#makes me desperately want soft things for edgar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

win-writes · 1 year

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Poe + Dark chocolate 5 pls!

𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 5: “𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺”

༶ pairing; poe x fem!reader

༶ contains; sub!poe, getting caught masturbating, use of good boy, teasing, handjob, spitting, kissing

༶ word count; 1,470

༶ word count; this turned out way longer that i wanted but oof,,, hope you like it sweetheart!! tysm for your request i had fun writing this hehe

Pure torture

One simple sentence. Two words that perfectly describe Poe's current state. Laying on his back in your shared bed, clothes scattered all over the floor, with one hand covering his eyes while the other one is palming his hard cock, Poe can't help the whines and whimpers that escape his drooling mouth, filling the quiet room. He cannot recall how long he's been stuck in this position, unable to reach that release he's been chasing these past few days.

You, his lovely sweetheart, were gone on a business trip. That left your lover no choice, but to pleasure himself all on his own. But how could he? How could he ever reach his high without your soft lips or your tight pussy wrapped around his dick? How could his own tired and worn out hand ever replace your delicate fingers and your gentle palm?

Poe keeps stroking his hard member, with the only thing closest to you being his mental image of you riding him. He keeps crying out your name, soaking the pillow under his head with saliva. He's so lost deep into his nasty thoughts of you, he swears he can hear you calling out to him right now as if you were there.

"Edgar darling, do you perhaps need a helping hand?"

Except you are there.

Poe's head rises from the covers, revealing the flustered state he's in. His long beautiful hair may cover a lot of his features, but not enough to hide the embarrassment panted all over his face. "My.. my love what.. w-what are you doing here?" he stutters while his hands desperately try to hide his naked form from your sight." I didn't know.. you'll be back today.. " he looks down on his hands, not having the courage to look you in the eyes.

"I thought it would be fun to surprise you.." Poe can't pinpoint exactly when did you walk all the way to his side from the door, making him yelp at the feeling of your soft hand touching his wet from drooling chin, bringing him up to face you "And turns out, I was right" you whisper right above his lips.

Poe leans forward, hoping to catch your lips into a kiss he has been waiting for days, but it seems like you have other plans. You back up again, undoing your shirt's buttons painfully slow for Poe's liking, "Not so fast darling" your voice sounds so erotic, but your words make your lover bite his lower lip and frown his eyebrows.

Once you're done focusing on your shirt, your hands move lower, carefully and just as slowly taking off your pants, "Is this what you've been doing while I was away?" You let your pants drop to the floor before climbing up to the bed, until your clothed core is hanging over Poe's now hard rock cock and your lips ghost over his once again "Touching yourself so desperately while thinking of me?" Your lover is now panting below you, patiently waiting for your next move and hoping you'll finally give him what he's been waiting for since the moment you left your house.

"Did you manage to cum without me, my love?"

Poe's hands grip on the sheets, hopelessly trying to contain them from touching you without permission, knowing full well you might punish him for it. And like the good boy he is, he simply answers your question, "N-no.. Not even once.." he attempts to hide his eyes from you again, but you're fast to hold him back into his pillow by pushing your hand against his forehead, finally revealing his whole face, "There's my good boy. Even your body knows you're not allowed to cum without me."

You decide to reward his obedience with a steamy kiss. The moment your lips crushed against his, Poe groaned into your mouth. He kissed you like it meant the world to him. Like it's the last time he's ever gonna taste the sweetness of your lips. But unfortunately for him, you broke your kiss almost as soon as it started, "Now now, why don't you tell me what you want my darling?" you ask him as you sit up on his lap, feeling his dick hitting your lower back.

"I-I.." Poe loses his words at the sound of your question. Just a few minutes ago, he was twitching just at the thought of you on top of him, and now out of nowhere his wish came true. His facial expressions make it obvious to you that your man is overwhelmed by your sudden arrival. You give him your warmest smile as you slowly grind your ass against his twitching cock, "Come on my love, use your words and tell me what you want"

Your lover hates it when you act like this. You have the face and voice of an angel, making him think that you're about to grant all his wishes and he doesn't have to worry about a thing. But at the same time, the words you spit out and the way your body moves, burn away that halo above your head.

But that's exactly what makes him love you even more.

"Please stop teasing me and touch me already"

Poe doesn't fail to notice the smirk of your lips at the sound of his reply, "How could I say no when you ask me so nicely?" You carefully crawl further down on the bed, so that you're directly facing his cock. The young author sinks his teeth into his lip once again at the hot sight in front of him. You give his shaft a playful kitten lick, feeling his manhood throb at the sudden contact. You giggle at your boyfriend's adorable reaction, but you're not quite done messing with him yet.

"Oh? Are you already that sensitive darling?" you softly place his dick in the palm of your hand, gently giving it a stroke, earning another moan from him, "Then I guess just my hand is enough for today, hm?" Poe was about to speak, but only a whine managed to escape his lips the moment he felt your spit hitting his cock. You started palming him at a slow pace, spreading your saliva all over his length, making your man a mewling and sobbing mess. You can already see his tip leaking precum and Poe's cheeks painted red. He feels so incredibly ashamed that he's about to come when you've barely stoked his dick yet, but he can't help himself. He missed you so much, it's only natural he wouldn't last longer.

Just when he was about to ask your permission to cum, he accidentally shot his seed all over your face and hand. You widen your eyes at his early release, "Done already? Without even asking?" Poe tries to catch his breath in order to come down from his high, nervously looking in your eyes "I- I didn't mean to! Please I'll be good next time, i promise!"

Oh, how you loved that look on his face; half-lidded eyes, mouth agape, an overall lewd expression taking over all his pretty features. How could you ever punish such a lovely face? You sit up and wipe your face, collecting his cum in your fingers. You look him in his eyes as you sensually lick your creamy hand "It's alright baby" you tilt closer to his face without breaking eye contact "I'm not gonna punish you today, so don't worry about it"

Your lips connect together yet another time. His hands immediately find their way into your hair, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft and warm, panting slightly into the kiss, allowing your tongue to slip inside his mouth and letting him to taste himself. Poe lets a low mewl escape into your mouth, making your heated cunt clench around nothing.

It doesn't take long for him to run out of breath and break the kiss, "I missed you.. I missed you so much.." he tucks some of your locks behind your ears to take a better look at your angelic face. You smile at him, placing a soft peck on his forehead "I missed you too my love" Poe places his hands on your waist, drawing circles on your bare lower half "This wasn't fair to you.. I was the only one taken care of.." his tone is now completely different and his eyes are dark "I told you it's alright, I don't-" in a swift move, Poe has you pinned down on the mattress. His skilled fingers brush over your drenched panties, making you moan at the sudden contact "Let me do this for you please" he drags your wet undies to the side, making direct contact with your dripping pussy "I promise I'll make you feel good my love"

#win; writes #poe x reader #poe smut #poe x you #poe x y/n #bsd poe #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd imagines #bsd smut #edgar allen poe x reader #edgar allen poe bsd #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs smut

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girllfaillure · 9 months

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“you bewitched me..”

Wilbur Soot | Will Gold x reader (she/her pronouns used) ~ fluff <3

Sypnosis: Falling head over heels in a bookshop was the last thing Will expected on a November morning. Perhaps it was for the better?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bookshop that morning reeked of pure nostalgia. It reminded Will of his childhood, or some kind of comfort he didn’t know he needed. He brushed the tiny snowflakes off his beige trench coat with a soft flick and gravitated towards the history section, American History to be exact. He observed the bookshop, taking in the soft lighting and interior - definitely a cosy place.

At that moment, he found his eyes landing on a girl behind the counter. She had been typing away by the computer at the desk - she seemed focused with a warm drink clutched in her hand. Will felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t like any feeling he had known before. It was almost aching, but a good ache. A warm ache. He felt his gaze soften and his lips part. An almost foreign desperation clawed at him and it was like tiny sparks igniting and burning at his bones. He felt the profound urge to just embrace her then. He wanted to kiss her forehead and tell her sweet things. He wanted her. He wanted her like nothing he’s ever desired for before.

In that moment, feeling something practically scorch holes into her, she looked up too. And it was like time stopped moving around the two. Her eyes softened and she felt a little smile tug at her lips as she caught the eyes of the tall stranger in the room. She felt as if she had known him twenty years, rather than twenty seconds. Like they had been together in past lives or something like that.

Reality soon swept them back up and she immediately went back to typing on the computer, trying to purge this feeling but it wouldn’t die, it grew and it grew and she wanted to be swallowed by it. Will noticed her eyes turning away and was met with a sudden shyness. He could have talked to her if he wanted, he was Will Gold. He was the lead singer of a band on the rise to fame, a well-known content creator yet he felt so nervous to even step closer to the stranger. He exhaled a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding in and continue to peruse through the books on the shelves.

Her eyes found him again, taking in his appearance. She studied his brown curly hair, his lanky frame, his long fingers - which were grazing the books in a precise fashion, like his touch could kill if he even pressed too hard. She wondered what it would be like to hold his hands in hers, or feel him trace every scar on her body. She wondered what his hair would feel like, what scent would it carry. She wondered how his frame would feel next to hers in a hug or a cuddle. She wanted to extinguish these thoughts and fantasies but they were so strong…ceaseless. He was bewitching.

Will tried grasping at any courage he had in his body. Too many times in his life had he let fear stop him from potential lovers but none of them even compared to her. She was so, so compelling. She was angelic. She was something you’d worship. And he wanted to, for the rest of his life. He took shaky deep breaths, trying to think of things to say. A comment about the weather? No, that’s boring. A forward compliment? He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable - besides he was internally battling a fear that she was already in a relationship. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was, she was utter, complete perfection. But he knew if he let her slip away, he’d never forgive himself.

In that moment, he felt a voice behind him.

“Excuse me?”

Will turned his head and there she was. Her soft eyes looking up at him, like an innocent baby animal. He felt blush paint his cheeks a rosy colour.

“Hi.” He smiled and she smiled too.

“Do you need help with anything?”

She was soft-spoken and sweet. A voice he knew he could never get tired of hearing.

“Yeah..actually. Do you have anything by Edgar Allan Poe in stock?” He asked, trying to look anywhere but her face. He knew if he looked at her, his knees would buckle and give up underneath him.

She thought for a second, trying to recall if they did have any books by Edgar Allan Poe. But she didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity to talk to him. “I can go to the poetry section and have a look?” He nodded and she led him to the poetry section. She stood on her tiptoes and flicked through the book spines until she found one by the writer he had requested.

During the search, Will found himself looking at every little thing she did and he thought she was the most adorable person he had ever encountered. Every single thing, he felt himself smile to himself. He was falling more and more inlove with her each second. After a while a blue covered book was passed his way. When he took the book, his hand brushed hers and he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Thank you.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad I was able to help you.”

She smiled up at him and Will noticed the little pin clipped to her shirt, with her name in a pretty font.

He found himself repeat her name in his head. Reciting it like a vow or prayer. A pretty word coming from pretty lips. It wasn’t long before Will approached the counter and she was there, smiling.

Will smiled too. It was contagious.

She scanned the book and looked up at him.

“That’s gonna be…£8.89. Is that gonna be cash or card?”

“Uhm…cash..” He placed a hand in his pocket and fiddled for the money from his wallet.

She accepted the money and placed the change on top of the book, along with the receipt tucked into the cover. She looked back up at him, “Have a good rest of your day. I hope to see you here again soon.”

She smiled up at him.

He blushed and nodded. “Yeah..I’ll definitely come again soon. It’s a nice shop and you seem like a lovely person.”

Will could of sworn he saw her cheeks turn red. She nodded and watched him leave the shop, a flurry of snowflakes replacing his presence.

He sighed and felt the winter breeze nip at him, he opened the book up and checked the receipt curiously. Of course, the details and such were typed on to the paper, but there was an extra little piece of text at the bottom.

‘ xxxx-xxxxxx <;3’

‘i thought you were pretty nice and was hoping i will see you more often, rather than in the shop. i think you’re pretty cute anyways. i hope i’ll see you around more.

- [name] <3’ Will felt his eyes widen, his heartbeat gradually quickening. She had given him her number...she wanted to see more of him. He smiled to himself, which accompanied the butterflies in his stomach. Them meeting was clearly fate - true love at first sight.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur soot fluff #lovejoy #mcyt x reader

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turbulentscrawl · 3 months

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Reminders of the Horror (Norton & Edgar)

warnings: character death (you), descriptions of heavy gore (I mean it. the Norton one is p bad), angst, lots of blood and pain

Your ears are ringing.

There’s not really any reason for them to be. All things considered, the wall coming down wasn’t that loud, and neither was your screaming. But your ears are ringing like you think Norton’s must have during that horrible event so much like this moment. Aside from the volume, everything is exactly as he’d described it on those late, sleepless nights. The dust, the dark, the agonized cries. (Yours.) Somewhere in your scrambled mind, you’re sure Norton sees the ghosts of his spiteful coworkers littered about him, but it’s just you there, trapped under the rubble of the asylum’s collapsed walls. You’ve seen single portions of wall collapse at the church, but never anything like this. Fools Gold had somehow managed to bring down an entire section of the sprawling building. Right on top of you.

You’re wailing and screaming for Norton, and he’s just sitting there, mere feet from you, paralyzed. His face looks like a dead man’s.

“Norton!” you scream, almost incomprehensible. His name leaves your lips along with all the air in your lungs, the rubble crushing everything out of you. You’d never dared to imagine what this kind of death felt like. Never wanted to experience the horror of it. And the pain is beyond words. Every cell in your body screams wrong, wrong, pain!

The rubble continues to settle, shift, and somehow it all gets worse. Your bones give like fragile chalk. Your abdomen shifts, squeezed from the bottom-up like a tube of toothpaste. When you open your mouth again, blood and bile gush forward, followed by a bulge of something horrifically organ-like that chokes your airways. You claw a desperate hand towards Norton, and he reacts only by numbly pushing himself away.

His back hits the far wall, still staring with unfocused eyes, and through the window above him you spot Fools Gold amble into frame. He’s grinning, albeit tightly.

“Don’t mind him,” the Worse Norton says, stepping through the window. Stepping on Norton like he’s an insect. Stepping right into the pool of your liquified viscera. “Sorry, babe, you know I wasn’t aiming for you. Just trying to give that one a hard time. That sure looks rough, though. Let me help you out real quick.”

You’re crying, but there’s no air to sob. Only bloody, salty tears as your feel yourself about to burst from the mouth. Fools Gold raises his pickaxe—perhaps the one mercy he’s still capable of giving—and brings the heavy point down on your head.

There’s so much blood. Your blood. It’s unnerving despite Edgar’s assurances that it’s good.

From your position, though, it’s hard to see how this is good. Only you two are left in this match against the triplets, and you’re only meters from the exit gate death’s door with a porcupine’s worth of metal thorns lodged in your body. The wrecked wedding venue does not help the mood, and freedom being so close by is but a taunt. You have a win at hand, if only Edgar would flee. Edgar, though, is determined to drag your mangled figure out with him no matter how much it cost.

And it was costing a lot of hurt. The spiks caught in the dirt, in the cobblestone, and pulled on your flesh and muscle, poking and swirling around inside your bruises.

“Go,” you gasp, hiccupping in pain. If he’d go, secure the win, you could die faster too. The pain would stop faster. “Go, Edg—go. I won’t…last. Go.”

“You need to tough it out,” he says through gasps of strained effort. His soft face is twisted with determination. He is not a strong man to begin with, and the added weight of the spikes is only making this harder for him. His skin and hair are dripping with blood, sweat, and mud. “I told you I can do this. Just deal with it a little longer.” In the not-so-far distance, you hear the familiar metal and cloth of the triplets shifting out of their dreaded Breaking Wheel.

“Ed,” you sob, crying dirty tears. Everything is blurry, indistinct. A bubble of blood comes up with your next scream of pain, “Go!”

“I am not afraid of death,” Edgar snaps at you. “Least of all for a situation like this.” Suddenly, he drops you and his hands are all over your body, your wounds, on the ground. Touching until his fingers and palms are running with rivulets of your blood. Then he starts smattering it about his last blank canvas with a desperate speed you’ve never seen utilized for his creations. A mania-like joy overtakes his eyes as he smacks, pokes, and smears your blood into something to distract the Hunter.

“It’s perfect,” you hear him say. When he grabs you up again, you jolt with a scream and realize, foggily, that you blacked out during his creative process. And will black out again, despite the pain’s best efforts to keep you conscious. Edgar starts dragging you again, somehow, miraculously making it to the door. When you look up, you see the triplets there, looking over a propped painting in the aisle. They’re shaking, then howling. With rage.

They grab the canvas and launch it in a tantrum towards your now-immune forms stepping over the invisible line. It clatters in front of your fading eyes, allowing you to see, barely, the butchered forms of the triples painted in your blood. A daring threat from the painter holding you to his chest as you’re swept back to the manor, where you can die and rebirth in peace.

#idv x reader #identity v #idv prospector #idv painter #edgar valden x reader #norton campbell x reader #turbulentscrawl

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abbysanders2000 · 1 year

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I’m not sure if you write smut so if you don’t pls ignore me. Could i PLEASE get some dwayne smut there isn’t enough on this app i’m BEGGING. (but again if you don’t write smut don’t feel pressured at all i don’t wanna make u uncomfy)

-💜💚

Ooo my first Dwayne request as well as my first smut!! I hope I did it justice anon! Only warning below is smut :) Thank you for the ask!! This is my personal opinion on our loveable Dwayne I think he's a big disciplinarian. Especially when it comes to the bedroom. Like he told you not to do something and you did it anyway. Now suffer mwahah!!! Just please be nice as this is my first ever smut :)

Get over my knee (Dwayne x reader Smut!!)

'Shit shit shit shit!!!!' Y/n said in her head mentally cussing herself out as she and Dwayne rode back to her place. He had specifically told her not to go into the Frogs comic shop. Point. Blank. Period.

"Dwayne come on. Their the only place in town that'll have what I'm looking for." She explained. Dwayne shook his head. "No can do princess. Those little shits are a pain every night as it is. I don't want them harassing you." He told her with crossed arms.

Oh but she did not listen. She just had to go in the store. And of course Alan starts harrowing with a book of questions along with Edgar. She of course simply rolled her eyes and went to walk out. That was until Edgar called her and quote "a blood sucking whore" which earned him a good punch to the nose.

As quickly as she hightailed it out of there she were not fast enough to escape a pissed off Dwayne. Now as they pulled up to her place she quickly got off the back of his bike and ran into the house.

"You'd better run." Dwayne growled as he made his way into the house. "I asked you to do one simple thing. Do not go into the comic shop. And what did you do? You went your little ass into the comic shop!" He stomped up the stairs into her bedroom.

A lump was curled up under the covers. Dwayne smirked to himself as he slapped the lump square on the ass. Y/n let out a small yelp. He quickly ripped the covers off of her to find her rubbing her bum.

"Ow... babe that hurt." She whined looking up at him with the famous doe eyes. He poked out his bottom lip to mock her. "Awe I've got some news for you princess. It's about to hurt a lot worse."

She gulped. "Take off your pants and get over my knee." He said sitting on the couch at the end of the bed. Y/n groaned loudly but did as she was told. She knew if she didn't it was going to be a lot worse. She walked over to him slowly.

Dwayne rubbed the soft skin of her butt before he started. "20 and I expect you to count." Was all he said before his massive hand came down on her ass with a loud smack!

Y/n bit her lip as she held in a moan. "1...2. 3. Mhp! 4.." She counted. The slinky material of her panties was now soaked with excitement. No matter how hard she tried to hate it she always got drenched when Dwayne spanked her. And oh boy did he know it too.

"You gonna be a good girl for me or do I need to continue?" He asked when they got to 10. Y/n was stammering over her words as she tried her best to speak. "I can't hear you princess. Your gonna have to speak up."

"I-I'll be good Dwayne.." She finally managed to spit out. He chuckled deeply as he sits her up. "Jeez princess your soaking wet. I'm not even inside you yet and your already making a mess."

She let out a whimper as he placed little kisses up and down her neck. "You want me to take care of you princess? Do you think you deserve it after disobeying me like you did?" His hand slips down to rub her womanhood.

She gasped as the friction of his hand sent tingles up her spine. Her body was craving more and more with each stroke. "OH God. Dwayne please.." She begged as he slowly began pick up his pace. Slowly and surely as if he was teasing her. "I need you. I need you inside of me. I need you to fuck me." She moaned out in a half desperate beg.

"There we go baby girl. That's all you had to say." With one quick move he had her on the bed and his pants and boxers off. He stalked up to her like a lion would stalk prey.

Ever so slightly he slides smoothly into her dripping wet folds. His head dips down to kiss her neck as he begins to thrust. Y/n's eyes rolled to the back of her head as her body entered pure and utter paradise.

Dwayne moved his hips ever so slightly to keep up the rapid pace of thrusts. "Your so wet for me baby. I got you all worked up huh?" He smirked against the skin of her neck. Her hands suddenly went up to grip his shoulders. Her nails slowly slid down his back.

He let out a low hiss as nails dug into his back. "Two can play at this game princess." He said as he grazed his fangs across her skin careful not to puncture it. The sharp ends leaving scratched as they did.

She panted heavily as the bed started to shake. "Fuck babe don't break the bed." She joked. "Trust me pretty girl this bed is going to the least of your worries. By the time I'm done with you your not going to be able to walk straight." He panted.

She barley had time to react before he pushed himself deeper inside of her. She let out a scream of pleasure as he all but touched her cervix. He placed a hand over her mouth.

"Shhhhh calm down princess. We wouldn't want the neighbors calling the cops again now would we?" He as as his dick pulsated inside of her tight wet folds.

She slowly nodded her head. He removed his hand and waited for her rebutted to him. But only the sweet sounds of her moans came out. That was until she managed to squeak out. "K-k-keep going. Fuck my brains out baby."

"OH trust me princess. I fully intend to~"

This onslaught went on for over an hour maybe even more since neither one of them kept up with the time. Y/n was on the brink of exhaustion as she felt her climax or rather her 3rd climax of the evening on the horizon.

"OH God Dwayne I'm close." She moans. He grinned as he looked down at her. "Wait for me baby doll." He winked. Suddenly mixture of their combined climax hit one another causing it to ooze out onto the bed.

Out of breath he slides back out of her and flops down beside of her. He wrapped his arms around her pulling her onto his bare chest.

"Remind me to disobey you more often." Y/n panted as she struggled to catch her breath. Dwayne's dark eyes looked over at her with a glimpse of mischief.

"OH that wasn't even the half of it princess. I've still got a few more rounds in me. And we've got 5 hours before dawn."

#the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #dwayne x reader #x reader insert #request

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sarcasmandships · 1 year

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his! do you have any peterick fic recommendations? i've already read all your works on ao3 and i'm waiting desperately for updates so until then i need something to read because i feel like i've already read soooo many fics and i'm running out of material plz help :)

hiiii, im glad you like my fics and I'm sorry im terrible at updating i used to be so consistent but uni is just killing me with assignments rn! but i promise the restaurant au will get an update soon and im planning to edit death by a thousand cuts before i add to it again cos im just not really happy with the quality of it, but that will also be coming soon i promise!

anyways onto what you're really asking about; recommendations. im not sure if you're looking for smut or stories with plot so here's just a mix of things i've really liked ( i suck at bookmarking things so I've just searched through my history and there's deffos stuff i've missed im sorry)

Literally just read kick me in the face & ask me how my head feels by fkingdeathwish today - devoured this in a few hours and this fic made me like stories in first person. its so good and also has the best andy/joe/pete friendship dynamics i was smiling the whole time. but also features a lot of petekey tho which might not be ur thing

(smut) going down, down by @pyrchance - i read this the other day and its 10/10

Anything by snitchesandtalkers but some of my favourites are i've been checking my list, crooked love, making out inside crashed cars (smut), silver screen dream, the antidote to everything (except for me), we're friends when you're on your knees (not finished but still so so worth reading), amateur pornographers (smut obvs), a little less 16 candles (a little more bite me)

brutal love by @notastumph- this one is so good but like i also had to take a 5 min break between chapters cos the angst and heartbreak was getting to me so much (in the best way)

and i'll burn by jiksa - just read the tags first

the house on rosewood lane by scarredsodeep - this one is so fucking good, i don't even like horror and i was obsessed with this and couldn't stop reading

hey doctor, i'm certifiable by derridoid (smut) - so good and the ending made me laugh sm

husband on the payroll by das_verlorence-kind - what can i say, i love the fake relationship trope

also ive changed my plea to guilty by das_verlorence_kind - again just check the tags incase it’s not ur thing

accidents will happen by rusty76

again pretty much everything by @annoyingpetekey but some favourites are (i just wanna) get some, so pretty (when you're on your knees), and come on (and fuck me like you doubt me) - all smut

That Schrodinger guy made some really good points, you know? by @earlgreytea68

but i'm reflecting light by looks_a_scream - this one is deffos a favourite

the purgatory of my hips by auralcosm

edgar allan potato by emeralcitydowntowngirl - another absolute favourite, i have such a soft spot for soulmate AUs but I've never read one as good as this, again features a lot of petekey but it is all in the past

to take what i'm given with grace by likeasugarcube - their whole 'marriage of convience' series is amazing but this is the main fic and it is sooo good

anything by littlesnowpea but favourites include love in the middle of a firefight, but there's no preparing for this, and nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy (pls read tags first tho)

december is for cynics by looks_a_scream - another favourite

secrets i don’t want to keep by perceived_nobility (although i think they’ve changed their name to invisible_man now) anyways this one is only accessible if you have an ao3 account but it is so so good an hurts in all the best ways, would advise paying attention to some of the tags tho

Also pretty much anything written by appleremix or vampyerika

Ok so I have like another 30+ pages in my history but this is already so long, so i hope you enjoy some of these assuming you haven't read them already!

#anon #fic recommendations #peterick

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lewistan · 3 years

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“I wanted so badly to tell Tiffany the truth about why I came here, but something was happening – something I’d never experienced before – and I didn’t want it to end.” - Ji

#lewis tan #eva de dominici #lewistanedit #jiedit #ship inspo #couple #things i've made #loml #how LT hasnt gotten casted as a romantic lead as yet is beyond me #i played myself making this #makes me desperately want soft things for edgar #matthias knight #edgar x olivia #edgar yang #verse:twisted vines

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sword-dad-fukuzawa · 3 years

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the tell tale heart and ocd

Okay, it's time to subject you all to my personal interpretation of "The Tell Tale Heart," one of Edgar Allen Poe's short stories. I highly recommend you read it because it's really not long (a ten minute read at most) and you can find it here.

CW for this post: discussions of OCD, intrusive thoughts, tics, and general murder and death

That out of the way, on we go!

We had to discuss this story in class today, and it was while looking over it for the second time that I realized the narrator was...oddly relatable. Not to say that I've killed a man and buried his dismembered corpse beneath my floorboards, but this is the internet and you can never be too sure. My teacher was of the opinion that the narrator is relatable because of that final scene, as everyone has done something they were not supposed to and tried to cover it up--only to get caught.

I had a slightly different reason.

My personal experience with OCD has looked a lot like a lot of physical tics, a lot of flipping light switches, a lot of reopening doors, a lot of looking-at-a-room-from-a-certain-angle-multiple-times-until-I-get-it-right, and a lot of intrusive thoughts that I won't describe in graphic detail. My reasons for doing so are obsessive, irrational, and anxiety-inducing. Actually, writing this essay has made the ticcing worse, which was definitely an unforseen side effect. Oops.

But what I want to focus on is the irrational aspect of OCD. The reason I will open a door and close it and open it again is not because it's not closing properly. It's because if I don't open and close it exactly right, something terrible will happen. I try not to think too hard about what. And if I don't look at my bedroom floor from beneath my upraised arm before going to sleep, a demon might kill me in my sleep. It becomes a ritual and a thought spiral unless I do whatever strange thing my brain demands I do.

The narrator of "The Tell Tale Heart" is mad. There's no doubt about that. The story is a confessional, but it's not meant to prove their innocence. It reads instead as a desperate plea for the listener to understand why they killed a man, because the narrator continues to assert that they are not crazy.

Ostensibly, they kill the old man because something was terribly wrong with the man's eye.

"There was no reason for what I did," the narrator confides. "I think it was his eye. His eye was like the eye of a vulture, the eye of one of those terrible birds that watch and wait while an animal dies, and then fall upon the dead body and pull it to pieces to eat it. When the old man looked at me with his vulture eye a cold feeling went up and down my back; even my blood became cold."

Something is unexplainably uncomfortable about the old man's eye. Taken literally, the reader might believe he has a magic eyeball, something akin to the evil eye. It's certainly what the narrator believes. But this, to me, is familiar. It's seeing something ostensibly quite harmless, and yet the brain kicks you into fight or flight to make it go away that made me think of OCD.

And the narrator's behavior is obsessive, because they think about it so much that they conclude they must get rid of him. And their behavior is compulsive--they go to watch the old man sleep for seven nights in a row.

Every night about twelve o’clock I slowly opened his door. And when the door was opened wide enough I put my hand in, and then my head. In my hand I held a light covered over with a cloth so that no light showed. And I stood there quietly. Then, carefully, I lifted the cloth, just a little, so that a single, thin, small light fell across that eye. For seven nights I did this, seven long nights, every night at midnight.

This is a routine, and it's a deeply irrational one driven by some unexplainable anxiety. Does it map perfectly? No, of course not. I'm not suggesting that the narrator only had OCD, or that OCD leads to murder or anything like that. But I do want to point out why reading this story felt so familiar.

It's because I've lived experiences that were similar.

After the murder, the narrator buries pieces of the body under their house. But they start to hear old man's heartbeat. And the way they describe the noise that they hallucinate is also chillingly familiar.

It starts as a vague noise on the edge of their awareness. But as they try to ignore it, it gets louder. And eventually, it's all they can hear, even as they desperately push the noise away. In the end, they have to confess to killing the old man because the noise won't stop.

It was a quick, low, soft sound, like the sound of a clock heard through a wall, a sound I knew well. Louder it became, and louder. Why did the men not go? Louder, louder.

That's what ignoring a compulsion or a tic feels like. It starts off as uncomfortable, but as it gets more demanding, more insistent, it threatens to overwhelm you until you give into the urge to open that door again, to flick the light switch one more time, to check if the stove is properly off for the fifth time.

"The Tell Tale Heart" is a surprisingly contemporary story for its description of mental illness, the subconscious, and repression. And that made it a really interesting read, especially for someone who has intrusive thoughts.

psssst @electrick-indigo I wrote it :)

#ocd #tw ocd #tw tic mention #the tell tale heart #edgar allen poe

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

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Sweet Pea, Fangs & Toni//you left me no choice but to stay here forever

Request: Hey, can I request the reader dating Toni, sweet and fangs? Where they break up with the reader because she doesn't want to join the farm and she's go to Archie's house and they kiss but someone sees them and blackmail her when she gets back together with lover three lovers and she tells them what happened and they forget her and only if you feel comfortable writing this and btw I love your writing

hey! i hope you like this! it’s angsty, but with a happy ending!

It’s weird to think back to before.

Before The Farm took over Riverdale. Before it stole your neighbours, your friends even some of your family.

Before it took them.

For months The Farm had just been a lingering threat, something that ran in the background while you got on with the rest of your life. And yeah, every so often you would see a neighbours house packed up, or a classmate wouldn’t be at school for a few days and then they’d turn up in all white, but for the most part it didn’t bother you.

You hadn’t been directly affected by Edgar Evernever and his cult, you just knew people that had. You watched Betty try to desperately save her mother and sister from the clutches of the people who seemed to kill with kindness. You would watch her and notice how she never seemed to breathe properly, even during class her breaths were always half what they should be.

You never thought it would happen to you, and then it did and it was far worse than you’d ever imagined.

Sunday the 7th of March was supposed to be a great day. The sun was shining, birds were singing and there was a light breeze blowing through Riverdale, which was surprising for the season. Usually it’s still quite chilly this time of year, but you could leave with just a light jacket thrown over your t-shirt.

As you said goodbye to your mom, your mind was too busy thinking of other things. Toni, Fangs and Sweet Pea were the only things you could think about as you closed the door behind you and did one last check of your pockets to make sure you had everything, and a small smile ghosted your lips as you thought about what the four of you would be doing today.

Maybe you would spend all day at Pop’s. You’d steal Fangs’ fries or Sweet Pea’s milkshake while Toni distracted them. The four of you would argue about who was paying, despite knowing that in the end it would be split between all of you.

Or maybe you’d go to the quarry and build a bonfire to light when the sun sets. You’d stop off at the store first to get supplies for a picnic and you’d spend the day underneath the sun, surrounded by your favourite people.

And then when the sun set and the temperature dropped, the four of you would walk through the dark streets, huddled together for warmth but none of you would really feel the cold anyway. You’d be too busy laughing at Fangs’ stupid jokes or your realisation that you had homework due the next day that you hadn’t even started.

However, as soon as Sweet Pea, Fangs and Toni turned up on your front step, all dressed in white and making you jump about three foot when you turned around and they were just staring at you, you knew that whatever plans you had imagined, would not be happening...maybe ever again.

As soon as you saw the matching white outfits and the same distant stare in their eyes, you knew. Your heart sank as you tried to force a smile, but you’re sure it looked more distorted than you’d wanted. Your lips were pulled too tight, your eyes a little too wide with fear.

“Oh, er. Hey guys.” You forced out, almost dropping your keys in the process and you quickly scrambled to catch them up.

When you looked at them again, it was like staring at three strangers. The people you’d grown up with and fallen in love with were long gone, instead replaced with empty vessels whose only purpose was to spread the message of The Farm.

You now knew how Betty felt, and soon you found it difficult to breathe.

“Why are you crying?” Toni was the first to speak and you hadn’t even realized you were crying until she pointed it out.

“This is a good thing.” Sweet Pea smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder. His smile was fake and his hand was cold so you shrugged it off and the two of you watched as his hand fell back to his side.

“We’re going to be healed.” Fangs added.

“None of you need healing.” You’d argued, despite knowing how pointless it was. Over a day it seemed they’d been sucked into The Farm with false promises and fake kindness.

“Sure we do.” Toni smiled. “And you can be too.”

“Yeah. You just need to join us.” Sweet Pea said and your eyes widened.

There was no way in hell you were joining them. Either this was some huge unfunny joke, or they had actually been brainwashed because the Toni, Fangs and Sweet Pea from a few days ago, knew your opinions on The Farm. And they knew you would never join, no matter what. You thought they felt the same, bu clearly you didn’t know them as well as you thought you did.

“I’d rather not.” You shook your head. “Why don’t you guys come in and we can talk about this?” You tried and motioned back to the door. The three of them shared a look before staring back at you.

There was once a time when you would look into their eyes and feel like you were coming home. But when you looked in their eyes this time, they just felt cold. Like there was nothing familiar left.

A whole lifetime together was just gone. All past memories now felt tainted, and any hope for a future together had just died a slow, horrible death right in front of your eyes. If you concentrated hard enough you could see the remnants of your relationship lying limply on the floor, while members of The Farm kicked it.

“No.” Fangs said and you stared at him in disbelief.

“Why not?” You’d argued. “I really think we should talk about this.” You remember being able to feel your heartbeat in your face and you were sure at one point it was going to explode.

Who knows what they were doing there. Betty had mentioned something about floating babies and sadistic rituals, and you weren’t sure about the rest of the Riverdale population, but you sure as hell knew that you did not want that to happen. Not to you or anyone else.

“No.” Sweet Pea had cut you off and you stared back at him annoyed.

“We need to go now.” Toni added and took a quick glance around. “It’s for the greater good.”

“The greater good?” You’d repeated. “Who’s?”

“Yours.” The three of them had said at the same time and you felt your blood run cold.

“Please.” You’d begged. You would have done literally everything for them to turn and tell you that it was a joke, or even for them to suddenly see sense and think ‘what the fuck are we doing?’ But they didn’t. Instead they just stared at you, eyes unblinking and faces unresponsive to you crying.

Normally you could’t let one tear escape before at least one of them noticed and was on top of you, squashing you in a gigantic hug that only grew as the others joined.

“We can talk about this. I promise. Just please don’t go back.” You pleaded. Fangs’ lip wobbled but he soon recovered and instead just averted his gaze.

Sweet Pea and Toni did the same thing, before Sweet Pea took a deep breath and stepped towards you.

You were so sure he was going to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest, and you were sure if he did you’d never leave. He’d just be stuck with you like this and you’d make Toni and Fangs join and that’s just how the four of you would be known.

Its a hell of a lot better than whatever the hell this is.

“It’s over.” He said and more tears rolled down your cheek.

“What?” You asked, your jaw slack as you tried to grab onto them. You needed to make them stay. If they stayed you could help. You could figure out why they felt like they needed to leave.

Why did they need to join a cult?

Maybe it was your own fault. Maybe you hadn’t been paying enough attention to them. Maybe they’d been crying out for help for months now but you didn’t notice and now it was too late.

“We’re sorry.” Toni whispered and pulled her arm from your grip.

You watched them walk away, and no matter how hard you tried to will yourself to follow, you just felt yourself sliding down onto the dusty ground.

You don’t know how long you stayed there for, just staring at the dead flowers surrounding the front door. You just remember the sun setting, casting the Southside in shadows, all of which seemed to follow you wherever you went.

They left you, so you did the only thing you could. You ran.

You ran through the cold and grey streets of Southside, until you found yourself outside the house of the only other person that knew you almost as well as they did.

Archie Andrew’s.

And for a good five minutes you just stood outside and stared at the front door, listening to the movement coming from inside the home. The light flicked on behind the door and Archie’s frame came into view. You couldn’t quite force yourself to look at his face, so instead you looked at Vegas who was happily bouncing up and down at the possibility of being cuddled by someone that didn’t live with him.

“Hey Y/n. What are you doing?” He asked and a sob escaped your lips. His arms wrapped around as he pulled you inside, and slammed the door shut behind you. And then you followed him up the creaky stairs, Vegas running behind the two of you.

“I’m so stupid.” You sobbed once inside his room. You hoped the dull lamp would hide just how sad you were, but you had a feeling Archie knew from the moment he saw you.

The smell of freshly washed laundry made you feel a little better as you looked at the pile of clothes sat on Archie’s bed. You knew he wouldn’t put them away until at least Tuesday, he always did. Archie wrapped his arms around you, pulling your gaze from the clothes.

His sweatshirt felt soft against your skin and you could feel your tears dampening the material. “A part of me thought it would just die down. That I wouldn’t be affected. But now it’s taken the three most important people away from me and I don’t know what to do.” You cry, your words mixed and stumbled into each other and you’re not entirely sure how Archie managed to even understand you, but somehow he did.

“What do you mean?” He asked and stroked the top of your head.

“The Farm. Sweet Pea, Fangs and Toni joined The Farm and broke up with me.” You cried and you swore Archie’s heart skipped a beat.

“Wha-at?” He stuttered and pulled away from you. “They’re at The Farm?”

“Yeah.” You nodded and let out another loud sob. A breeze from the open window made the curtains flutter a little and the warm tears rolling down your cheeks turned cold.

“I’m really sorry Y/n.” He sighed and pulled you in for another hug. “You’re not joining though are you?” He asked, a hint of panic in his voice as he looked at you, his eyes full of concern and something else that you couldn’t quite place.

“What? No!” You replied, almost offended that he’d think something like that.

“Good.” He sighed. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d joined.” He’d added and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

He was acting weird and a part of you was terrified that he’d also joined. You don’t think you could have coped if he’d gone too. When you look back, it just feels like something that was slowly getting close to you.

First it was someone that went to the same book club as your mom. And then it was a neighbour from down the road. It was a girl from school that you sat beside in Chemistry, followed by a closer friends mom. And then it was a cousin, and now it was them.

“I don’t know what to do.” You sighed and looked at Archie. You’re probably looked completely and utterly broken, to be honest, you felt like that too. So what compelled Archie to do what he did was beyond you.

One minute you’re crying because one you’ve just been broken up with, and two the people you loved the most had broken up with you to join a cult. They’d chosen Edgar Evernever over you!

And the next thing you know, Archie’s warm lips are moving against your own, and for some bizarre reason you were kissing him back. Your eyes widened when you realised what you were doing and you soon pushed yourself away from him, forcing the two of you to stare at each other with matching expressions.

“Shit Y/n, I’m sorry. I er, I don’t even know why I did that.” He rambled quickly and looked around his room, desperate for a distraction...or a time machine.

“No, no.” You shook your head frantically. You didn’t want to lose anyone else. “It’s fine. It’s already forgotten about.” You added and forced a smile making him chuckle awkwardly and rest his hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll get you some ice cream and then we can start planning on how to get them back.” He replied, his red hair catching the moonlight streaming in through the window and you nodded slowly, trying to get your thoughts in order.

Ice cream, plan, save them.

It sounded easy enough.

But that was then, and this is now.

This is after.

The dust has settled, leaving behind the remnants of a life once lived. The Farm is slowly falling apart, yet there’s no sign of any of them leaving, and so it’s just you left alone to live out your life as if nothing has happened.

You go to school and if they’re there, they ignore you, but it’s not like you could even get close to them anyway. You pretend you don’t see them when they sit together at lunch, and thankfully they do the same. It still hurts, but it would hurt more if they looked at you.

At least this way you can pretend that they’ve been brainwashed to forget you, instead of them just choosing to ignore you.

It’s been grey since they left, or at least it’s has been to you. The sun no longer shines and the birds no longer sing. It’s just a whole lot of nothing. You go through the day feeling empty, but pretend you don’t.

You force laughs and smiles when Archie says something funny, and when he smiles at you, it does make you feel a little better. Because at least he’s no longer worried about you.

A knock at the door forces Archie to pause his boring TV show and you silently thank whoever is outside. He huffs and stands and you fake a pout before following him downstairs. You’ve been craving popcorn since the moment you got here, and now seems like the perfect excuse to get some.

Plus, you’re hoping that either whoever is at the door is going to be a while, or if that fails, making your food will take at least half an hour.

“Do you want anything?”

“Nah, I’ll just steal whatever you have.” He grins in reply and you roll your eyes at him.

You grab the bag of popcorn Archie hid in the cupboard and start pouring it into a bowl. The door opens and you hear hushed voiced making you frown in confusion and spill some of the food on the counter.

You curse and quickly pick it up, shoving a few of them in your mouth before grabbing the bowl and heading back out to where Archie is stood.

He glances back at you and you’re about to tell him that you’re gonna go back upstairs, and if he’s not up there within the next two seconds you’re putting something else on to watch, when you hear someone you never thought you’d ever hear again.

“Y/n?” Sweet Pea asks quietly and you freeze. The bowl of popcorn you were holding falls to the floor with a loud clatter and popcorn spills out. Archie looks back at you, an unreadable expression on his face and you stare at him wide eyed.

“Do you want me to get rid of them?” He whispers and you shrug lamely. You honestly don’t know what you want. If this was a few months ago, you would have thrown that popcorn bowl to the floor, shoved Archie out of the way and thrown yourself at all three of them.

It wouldn’t be a pretty reunion with tears and snot and everything, but it was the only thing you could think about. For a while it was the only thing that kept you going, the hope that they would come back to you and the four of you could go back to normal.

You could resume your endless texts and phone calls until the early hours of the morning, all of you whispering as to not walk anybody up. You could continue to sneak out once your parents had gone to bed, and the race to sneak back in before they woke up.

The days nights spent at the Wyrm watching Fangs and Sweet Pea beat newbies at pool while you kept Toni company during her shift and she’d sneak the three of you free drinks for the night. Only to revoke that rule when Sweet Pea or Fangs would act far too big headed for their own good.

You would have given anything to sit underneath the bleachers in the bitter January cold, bundled in jackets and hats while carving stupid stuff into the wood and kicking dirt around.

But now, you don’t know. Because even if you could get back to that. Even if by some miracle, you could forget about everything that had happened between the four of you. If you forgave them for leaving you behind, you don’t know if you could. You don’t know if you wanted to.

After all, they did leave.

You don’t know why they joined, it all happened so quickly you’re not sure if you missed the warning signs or not. Maybe it was your fault, and if it was, did they deserve to be with someone that would miss a collective cry for help?

No, they didn’t.

And so you pushed down that gut feeling of seeing them again. Seeing them properly. You pushed away the daydreams of the reunion and you pushed away any plans you had for a future with them.

It wasn’t fair on any of you.

“Yes.” You whisper and he nods before turning back to face them.

“She isn’t here.” He starts and you don’t have to see Sweet Pea to know he’s rolling his eyes.

“Please dude.” Fangs starts and you hold back a sob.

“We just want to talk to her.” Toni adds and your expression soften. Some of the ice surrounding your heart thaws and now you can’t help the second thoughts creeping into your mind.

What if you can get back to how it was? You’ve known them for as long as you can remember, that’s got to mean something. Even if you can’t go back to loving them (who are you kidding, you never stopped) you could maybe get back to some sort of friendship, and then who knows what could happen.

“It’s fine.” You force yourself to speak and Archie stares at you surprised.

“Are you sure?” He mumbles and you nod quickly. You’re sure you’re walking in slow motion as you make your way towards the door. It’s 3 steps if that, but it feels like 300, and then finally when you manage to grab onto the door and swing it open, Sweet Pea, Toni and Fangs stare back at you, sorrow and guilt swimming in their eyes.

Sweet Pea shoves his hands in his jean pockets, Toni puts hers in her jacket and Fangs just stares at his. None of you know what to say.

You’re hoping that if they came here, they at least knew what they were going to do. But then again, after the countless of possible reunions you’ve imagined in your head, you’re just as clueless as to what to do as they are.

So instead you just stare at them, and will yourself not to cry. Archie shifts awkwardly behind you and places a comforting hand on your shoulder and you feel yourself relax a little.

Since they left, there’s barely been a time that he hasn’t left your side. He’s been constantly trying to cheer you up or helping you plan on how to break the three of them out. None of your plans have worked, but it’s the thought that counts. And at least he can make you smile, even if some of them are fake.

He was already your best friend before all of this, but now it’s like you’re even closer. It’s the only good thing that has come out of this, and you hope that now they’re back, they two of you can remain close.

“You’re mom said this is where you’d be.” Toni is the first to speak and everyone looks at her. She shrinks under the pressure, and you watch as she shakes her head and whispers something to herself before standing up straighter.

“Okay.” You nod and she looks at Sweet Pea and then Fangs.

“We wanted to say we’re sorry.” Fangs tries to help, but even that comes out a bit flat and he sighs. What do you say to someone after coming back from a cult?

“Okay.” You repeat and look around.

“We are really sorry Y/n.” Sweet Pea finishes and you finally force yourself to look each of them in the eye.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t stay mad at them. You don’t think you could even if you wanted to. Yeah, what they did sucked, and it hurt like hell. It always will. But they’re back and they’re standing on Archie Andrew’s doorstep for you.

“We can’t even to begin to explain how sorry we are. We have no idea what even happened. It all happened so quickly and I guess well, I guess that’s what they just do. They pull you in somehow and then the next thing you know you’re wearing matching outfits and having nightly meetings with half the town.” Toni rambles, and Sweet Pea and Fangs nod along. “We’re sorry we left, and we’re sorry we asked you to join and we’re so sorry we broke up with you.”

“It’s fine.” You say after a deep breath, and surprisingly you actually mean it. Despite everything, they are still your friends no matter what happens between you all. “Really. Clearly there was a reason why you thought joining a cult would solve all of your problems, and I must have missed it somehow.” You add and they stare at you confused.

“I love you.” Toni says and wraps you up in a hug. You’re a little taken back, but accept it anyway. It’s nice to be wrapped in her arms again. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back. I’ve just missed you and I’m so glad we’re back.”

“I-er. I love you too.” You stutter. “All of you.” You look at Sweet Pea and Fangs and they look down shyly. “It’s just, there’s something I need to tell you firs-”

“Aw, isn’t this a nice little reunion.” A tall man claps slowly, as he approaches the five of you. You and Archie stare at each other confused, while Sweet Pea, Toni and Fangs look around nervously.

The man who you can now tell is dressed in white stands at the bottom of the steps, his white t-shirt looks a little grey in areas and he hastily tucks it into his jean, his smile only growing when he makes eye contact with you.

You shift uncomfortably and the four of them automatically step further in front of you. They share a confused look and Archie soon drops their gaze, instead deciding to stand beside you.

“What do you want Albert?” Toni asks and her eyes narrow at the tall blonde standing in front of you.

“Just let it go. The Farm is gone.” Sweet Pea rolls his eyes.

“Actually.” His smile grows and his eyes narrow as he looks straight past them and at you instead. “I’m not here for you. You three are weak anyway. You ran at the first sign of trouble.”

“No, we left when the FED’s came.” Fangs mumbles making you stifle a laugh and he looks at you pleasantly surprised to have made you laugh. He’s missed that sound, they all have and they all really hope they’ll be able to hear it every day again.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He pinches Toni’s cheek and taps Sweet Pea’s as he makes his way up the stairs. “I’m here for her.” He says and stares directly at you. You swallow thickly, but the lump in your throat remains and you quickly look at the rest of the group.

“Me?” You ask confused. “Why?” Your voice shakes, no matter how hard you try not to sound scared.

“Yeah, why her?” Archie asks and Albert switches his attention from you to him.

“I’m so glad you asked!” He grins gleefully, it’s concerning how much this guy is smiling, especially considering everything that is happening to his home. “I’m here to ask her to kindly persuade you guys to come back.”

“And why would I do that?” You narrow your eyes and stand up straighter.

“Because if you don’t.” He starts and leans in towards you. “I might have to tell them about a kiss you shared with a certain red-head, not even 8 hours after they broke up with you.” He whispers in your ear and your eyes widen.

He laughs and steps backwards, making sure to look at each of you individually before looking back at you. His eyes glint in the sunlight but there’s nothing welcoming about it.

“So, what are you going to do Y/n?” He asks making you sigh and look at the floor.

You regretted it as soon as it happened and you have been regretting it ever since.

“Me and Archie kissed.” You blurt out and everyone stares at you. “But it only happened once and it was a huge mistake...no offence Archie.”

“None taken.” He nods.

“I was upset and it was the day you left and I didn’t know what to do. So I came here because I didn’t want to be alone and I genuinely just wanted to hang out with a friend but I was crying and sad and a bit angry and he kissed me and I kissed him back. But I stopped after like a second and we’ve never done it since. We haven’t even talked about it.”

“Y/n?” Sweet Pea places his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look at him.

“It’s fine.” He nods. “I think it’s the least we deserve.” He adds and looks behind him. Toni and Fangs nod in agreement and you feel yourself calm down.

“Now dude, you’re really upsetting our girl, and you’re annoying the hell out of me. So can you leave?” Fangs asks, and shoves the guy down the stairs. He stumbles and falls but quickly stands up again and huffs at you all.

“We made the mistake of following you once. We’re not going to do it again.” Sweet Pea adds and sends a small smile to you.

His fingers reach out towards you nervously and you find yourself having to suppress a smile at seeing a nervous Sweet Pea. It’s something you’ve only seen a handful of times and it’s very cute.

You close the gap between your fingers, giving his hand a squeeze and his smile grows.

Fangs has practically kicked Albert back into his creepy white van that he came out of and the five of you wave him off.

“I’ll see you around Y/n.” Archie glances at the other nervously before quickly disappearing back into his house and a slightly awkward silence surrounds the four of you. Suddenly you feel like you did when you first started dating.

It was new to all four of you. It’s hard enough to balance a relationship with just two people in it, but four? How the hell were you supposed to do that. All you know is that you liked all of them and they liked you, and so that was enough.

Maybe it’ll be enough now. At least just for a little bit. Of course there’s going to be long talks and tears and definitely some trauma. But you’ve done all of that before, so maybe you can do it again.

“Sorry if I was out of line calling you our girl.” Fangs quickly apologises and kicks a few stones around on the ground.

“You weren’t.” You reply and cup his cheek. “That’s what I am. I always will be.”

support my writing! if you want!

#sweet pea #toni topaz #fangs fogarty #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #toni topaz x reader #toni topaz imagine #toni topaz x y/n #toni topaz x you #fangs fogarty imagine #fangs fogarty x reader #fangs fogarty x you #fangs fogarty x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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soullessmocha · 3 years

Text

it’s okay.

{ david the lost boys x reader }

rating: pg-13

word count: 1066

summary: you show the frog brothers where the cave is. they promised you they would just talk and come to an agreement. yet to your naïve hopeful nature the frog brothers attack you, not showing any mercy. they have done critical damage and there is not much time left when david finds you

a/n: i wrote this during class after seeing a really sad scene. then i wrote this. please don’t hate me!!

warnings: gore, violence, blood, angst, pure sadness, afab! reader, no use of pronouns, no real proof reading because this was written at like 2am, use of david’s full name, sad boys and soft!david.

You didn’t know how it all happened. It was so fast. Your back was on the cold stone floors of the cave as warmth pools around the stake in your chest. You trusted those little boys, they said they wouldn’t do this. Even Sam was in shock at the sudden action. You were caught off guard but there was nothing that could stop it. You could still see Edgar’s frightened face at what he had done even as he confirmed you were human as the maroon liquid stained your white shirt. It seeped slowly and he was pulled off by one of the other boys, all three of them running in fright. Their screams and arguments bouncing off of the cave walls, dulled, echoing through your ears. Yet there wasn’t any pain. You were numb as a single tear slips down your cheek, then your vision goes black.

It isn’t until the sudden shaking of your body do you wake up once again. Stark blue eyes boring into yours filled with panic, concern, and pain. A leather glove stroked your tear away as a weak smile appeared on your lips. David had his brows knitted so tightly it was worrying you. “Why don’t you feel any pain?” he chokes out, holding you close to his body as the blood on your shirt grows wider in circumference on your t-shirt. He was obviously trying to get into your head, make you feel no pain, make you think of something else but all you could do was focus on his eyes.

“It’s because it doesn’t hurt,” You whisper before holding one of his hands where it was on your stomach, your iron grip moving it his wrist as he keeps his hand cupped on your cheek. Your body jerked in reaction to being moved and you coughed, blood trickling from the side of your mouth. You could hear more footsteps running towards you, “No,” Paul, you thought to yourself, hearing his whisper. A weak smile still plastered on your lips you hesitantly rub your thumb against David’s wrist.

“I-I-It’s okay,” you whimper as you realize you wouldn’t be able to see any of their faces again after you close your eyes. You were so close, you were so tired. “David, it’s okay- It’s okay. it’s perfect.” You whisper as the struggle to breath gets more prominent in your chest. Your blood covered hand raises to David’s cheek hesitantly. The scruff under your fingertips feels so comforting, the now temperatures of your bodies, and his soft skin makes you feel better. The flickering candle light mixed with the setting sun made it feel like you were seeing heaven. There were sniffles and hiccups in the background as the boys watched over you and David. Marko not being able to watch anymore is hiding in Paul’s shoulder. While Dwayne stands behind the two, his eyes brimming with tears. How could they have done this to you?

David watched you closely, listening to your heart beat as it slowed with each passing moment. He didn’t know what to do. He was in pure shock.

“I’m in the arms of my first love,” you choke out before wincing at the cold erupting through your body. It was foreign and terrifying. David’s expression softened at your confession. Neither of you have delivered that word to each other. Love. “The first person I’ve ever loved, the person I’ll always love.” Your breath hitches in your throat as tears start to pool in his eyes threatening to escape. Your hand starts to shake as you pull David closer to you smearing your blood on his cheek, “I love you,” you smiled at him, but this time it was full of love and worry. “David. David Powers.”

His eyes crinkled a bit at the sound of his last name. One he hadn’t heard in centuries. Now you were saying it on your deathbed with so much care and warmth. “Please don’t!” he whisper shouts watching the tears fall from your eyes. He wipes them with tender and care, “Y/N, please don’t!” his voice raises a bit more as a tear slips from his eye and down his cheek into your hair. He holds your stained shirt tightly and rocks, “Please! Get the bottle! Get it now!” his voice boomed through the caves. Dwayne was the first to rush to the bottle, knocking things over and trashing the site to find the bottle.

“David, no… It’s okay,” you whisper your hand slowly falling from his face as the fatigue finally catches up with you. “I love you,” you whisper as your vision blurs and your eyes close. “Y/N… Y/N! Open your eyes! Open your eyes dammit! Don’t!” David yells, shaking your cold body trying to wake you up. His hands patting your cheeks to your waist in an attempt to wake you up. Dwayne kneels next to your and David. He opens the bottle, “David, we don’t know-” Paul starts before David shoots him a spine chilling glare. “It will work!” he growls and gently pinches your chin between his thumb and index finger opening your mouth slightly. Dwayne pours the dark drink down into your mouth and closes it when David starts to tilt your head back.

David tenderly places his lips on your forehead as he screws his eyes shut. Shutting out the rest of those in the room, “Please, please, please, Y/N. Come back to me.” he whispers into your hair. His leather-clad hand reaches up to your chest and he pulls the steak out, wincing at the guttural sounds it makes. He throws it across the cave and presses his hand to where the wound is.

The rest of the Lost Boys stand behind David watching him hold you in desperation. Marko’s body shakes as he sobs. Who is going to be there for him when he wants to do crafts and get late night Chinese food? Paul holds Marko with his own glassy eyes staring absently to your still body. Who else would go to the record store with him to steal the latest record and jam out to? Dwayne, though always stoic, was hurting and it showed in his expression. Who else was he supposed to trade literature and give satiric reviews with?

Then there was David. Who else was going to show him humanity? Warmth? Love?

#soulless writes #the lost boys #The Lost Boys 1987 #david the lost boys #david x reader #david the lost boys x reader #i only write sad shit #pls dont unfollow me

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

October the 31st, the day I disappeared

Written for @jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House challenge. I hope you like this A/B/O version...

Summary: A celebrity haunted house for charity will be open one night only, Halloween night. You spent days trying to get a ticket online for the event. Thanks to a bad day on Halloween, you get there only a minute before the line closes. You’re the last person to go in and thinking that’s either really bad (everyone is tired or would be in a hurry to see you out) or really good (maybe you’d get some extra time with the one you came to see). You are never seen again. You select the set of the celebrity you’re there to see. When you get too close, you step into another dimension - their world – and there’s no escape. (I used the given summary…)

Pairing: Alpha!Curtis Everett x Omega!Reader

Characters: Gilliam, Edgar, Ofc Jake, unnamed ofc’s

Warnings: angst, language, a hint of blood, mention of deaths, scenting, true mates, smut, unprotected sex, mating bite, dub-con (if you squint), possessive alpha

October the 31st, your world…,

“Come on, hurry up, Jake,” you groan, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend. He doesn’t want to go to the haunted house to look at guys who look better than him. “I was at that motorboat show with you too.”

“I wanted to look at boats, not other guys,” Jake rolls his eyes, stopping right in front of the house. “Can I not wait outside? Go and look at those wax figures and get all riled up for me.” He runs one hand over his crotch, and you sigh, asking yourself why you are with a guy like him.

“Yeah, you wanted to look at the boats but ended up ogling the hostesses. Don’t think I didn’t see you leave with one of them,” hurt you look at the house once again. The clock strikes five to midnight and you know, it’s Jake who cheated on you more than once or your favorite celebrities tonight. “You know, stay outside Jake. I’ve got this.”

You run off before Jake gets the chance to argue – not that he would want to enter the haunted house. “I’ll wait here, smoke a cigarette, and imagine you blow me off.”

Disgusted you run toward the door, showing your ticket to step inside the haunted house just in time.

The clock strikes midnight when you stroll toward your favorite character.

“Curtis Everett,” you swoon, looking up at the man you admire so much. “I saw your movie at least twenty times. I still can’t believe you didn’t make it.”

“Step closer to have a look,” the man who validated your ticket offers. “Don’t be shy.” Hesitantly you look at the man, shaking your head.

“No, Sir. I don’t think the owner wants us to touch the wax figures. I wouldn’t dare to risk I ruin it. I can watch him from afar but thank you, Sir,” you decline his offer as polite as possible.

“No worries, young lady,” the man chuckles, getting a device looking like a remote control out of his pocket. “You don’t have to watch him from afar any longer.” An uneasy feeling spreads through your body as you realize there are no other visitors around.

When you entered the haunted house, at least half a dozen girls were swooning all over Chris Evans's characters. Some men admired Carol Danvers and others stormed toward Sebastian Stan's characters.

Now suddenly everyone is gone, and you wonder where they all went to. Or should you rather ask what happened to them?

“What do you mean?” You gasp when the man’s eyes start to glow in the dim light of the room. He’s mumbling words in a foreign language, a dark smirk on his lips.

“Don’t be afraid, it will only hurt for a moment. I’ll get your soul and your body will turn to dust,” you look around the room, now seeing the dust in front of all the wax figures. Your heart hammers when you step backward, back bumping into Curtis's chest.

All you can do is to close your eyes and wait for your end. The song your mother used to sing to help you fall asleep comes to your mind and you start mumbling the words. The man’s eyes widen, but you can’t see it when the words your mother taught you slowly calm you.

“No…no…I can’t lose control,” you feel hands grasp for you, souls screaming your name when an arm wraps around your waist, dragging you backward. You scream in terror, fight the embrace as the room starts spinning.

“Don’t take her soul away from me,” the man screams, dashing toward you but it’s too late. Whatever grasped your body drags you into another world with rules of its own…

“Is she one of the front enders?” You hear voices close to you. Your mind is still clouded with darkness and fear. “Girl doesn’t look like she belongs to the tail, Curtis.”

“She doesn’t belong to them,” Curtis’s voice much closer now, his fingers graze your neck. “Now go and check the section. I can’t let anyone get her."

“Curtis, she could be a spy,” humming the tall alpha leans over your body to sniff at your neck, dragging his nose along your pulse point. “I’ll be right back.”

“Go, tell Gilliam we found a girl,” your eyes slowly flutter open when the alpha kisses your skin. “There she goes, little omega.”

“I…I,” Your eyelids flutter shut when you pray this is all a nightmare. His breath hot in your neck, his scent surrounding your senses the alpha brings you out of your prayers. “I swear that I’m not part of Wilford’s plan. I…”

“Who are you?” A knife pressed to your throat forces your eyes to meet Curtis's darkened blue orbs. “If you are not part of the plan you can answer my question.”

“You will not believe me,” lips quivering you look up at Curtis, knowing he will not trust anyone not coming from the tail end.

“Try me,” he’s sliding his hand over your chest, gasping when you push your breast into his hand. “I want to know how you got this far. We control the water supply section.”

“I know,” your shiver, feeling his thumb pinch your nipple, slowly rolling it. “I will tell you how I ended up here, but you’ll believe I’m crazy.”

“I want to hear it, omega,” Curtis’s hand slowly moves down your chest, fingers curling into your crop top. You shudder when his fingers reach your pants. “Tell me about it.”

“I visited a celebrity haunted house for charity. I got the tickets online and the only person I wanted to see was you, or rather the wax figure they made,” you gasp when his fingers deftly unbutton your pants. “Suddenly everyone was gone but a strange man. He mumbled words in a language I didn’t understand. Then I felt the wax figure behind me wrap his arm around me…that’s all I think.”

“Online? That’s impossible. Everything and anyone outside the train got destroyed. There is nothing left,” Curtis dips on hand into your pants, fingertips grazing your clit. “You’re crazy or a liar.”

“I still got the ticket, alpha,” you grind against his hand, slick slowly soaking Curtis's fingers. “You can have a look. I swear this is not my world. I don’t know how, but I think that I ended up in an alternative universe.”

“Alternative universe,” humming the alpha makes quick work of your pants, drags the fabric down your legs, along with your soaked panties. “You’re crazy.”

“I told you that you won’t believe me, Curtis,” his lips press against yours, claim your soft pillow in a surprisingly gentle kiss. There is hunger hidden behind his eyes, but he doesn’t want to unleash the beast he released at the beginning of the revolt. “I don’t know how to get back.”

“You won’t,” Curtis states, ripping your top off your body to reveal your braless chest. He groans, head dipping to suckle at one of your nipples. “You’re mine now.”

“Yours?” you cry out feelings his hand slip back between your legs to toy with your clit. He’s slowly running his thumb around the swollen numb, bringing you to the edge of an orgasm. “I can’t be yours. Jake, he’s…”

“I will not let you go,” you whimper, body craving the alpha. “I knew the moment I woke behind you that you’ll be mine. I could scent you.”

“Behind me? This is impossible. How can you…” Realization hits you. You didn’t end up in the world of Curtis Everett from the movie you know. “Edgar is still alive. This means things didn’t end up like in the movie.”

“We are not in a fucking movie,” he grips your hands, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, to hold you to the ground. “You’re in my world now. I don’t care if you came from the front end or another dimension. No matter what – you are mine now,” his teeth sink into your neck right before he slips two thick fingers into your slicker channel.

You should be afraid, should fight his touch but your secret fantasy comes true and you can’t deny the alpha your body or obedience. Not with his mark on your neck.

“You don’t understand, Sir.” Jake pants, fighting the cops who deny him access to the haunted house. “My girlfriend, Y/N. She went inside that house like four hours ago and never came back. I can’t reach her phone.”

“Sir, we must ask you to remain calm. We are looking for all the visitors. All we found inside the house was dust in front of the wax figures.” Panicked Jake looks at the haunted house, screaming your name when he realizes he lost you forever.

“Y/N…Y/N…no…no,” he sniffles. “I’m so sorry for being an ass tonight…or like ever…”

“Mine, that’s who you are,” your clothes scattered all over the floor of the train, your face pressed into his dirty coat you kneel, shivering in anticipation. “I will not let you go.”

“I can’t stay,” Curtis doesn’t listen to your words. All rational thoughts left his mind the moment he caught your scent. “I need to go back. There must be a way.”

“There is no way you’ll leave your alpha,” you close your eyes when the tip slips inside. “I haven’t had a woman like you in ages…or rather never. You smell like hope.” His hips snap into your ass and you fist the coat, crying out at the wide stretch. “You feel like heaven in this hell.”

“Please…oh-god,” he sets a pace you can’t match. His hands touch every inch of your body. There is so much desperation in the way he takes you it breaks your heart. “Curtis…”

“I want to know your name, beautiful.” He whines, lips pressing against the mark he left in a haze. “You feel so soft against me, so pure.”

“Y/N.” You choke your name out, mind clouded with lust. “I swear I didn’t lie to you…alpha.” Curtis groans at your words, holding you to the cold ground, now speeding up.

“God, I wish I could fill this tight cunt, but not now. When we took over the train, everything will change. I’ll get you round soon,” Curtis purrs. “I want you to cum for me.” You teether on the edge, ready to let go.

“Curtis,” a breathless moan leaves your lips when his cock rubs over your g-spot. Curtis pulls out to flip you onto your back. “Please don’t stop…”

“I won’t…never,” he’s forcing his way back inside of you. His dirty face buries into your neck and just now you feel his sticky skin and that his natural alpha scent mixes with the smell of dirt, blood, and death.

Tears run down your cheeks when reality catches up with you. This is not a nightmare, nor a fantasy. Curtis Everett, the guy from a movie just claimed you.

An alpha you don’t even know moves on top of you, cock spreading you wider than Jake ever could. You lose a part of yourself when you come undone, nails digging into his back.

“That’s it, Y/N,” his teeth sink into your neck again, this time he draws blood and you cry out, feeling his knot swell. “I lied,” he growls when his cum floats your belly. “Gonna knot you now…”

Curtis didn’t let up for almost two hours until he finally brought you to his hideout in a corner of the water supply section.

“Mine,” his lips travel down your shoulder, nibble lightly at your soft skin. “So soft and warm.” You wish you could enjoy his touch or that you can feel your bond form.

“I want you to tell anyone you ran from the front end. That Wilford tried to make you his omega, but you caught my scent, ‘mega. I can’t have them question you.”

“Curtis, I need to find a way to go back. I can’t live in a movie,” he fists your hair, forces you to crane your neck to reveal the mark he left. “Alpha?”

“I’m sorry to tell you, but you were lost the moment my teeth sank into your neck,” he smirks against your skin, erection pressing into your ass. “If only you would’ve run to the next section, omega. You could’ve gone home as long as you had your ticket.”

“What?” You gasp, struggling to get up. “No…no…you are supposed to be the hero…”

“In my world, you eat or get eaten. You asked me why Edgar didn’t die, well…” Curtis snickers, into your neck, not missing your body starts shaking. “It’s because we run the train. There was this nice man. He came to us, offered his help if we give him something in return.”

“The souls…the man was talking about souls,” you sniffle, hiding your face in the palms of your hands. “How could you do this?”

“We agreed and he sent us two or three people a year on Halloween. The poor bastards ended up dead, slaughtered by people of the front end. I never had to kill anyone. I just didn’t help them,” Curtis whispers into your ear. “You are different, Y/N. I scented you and knew, you’ll be mine.”

“He screamed and acted as if he can’t get my soul…”

“It’s his game, Y/N. He likes to play with his prey. This time, he got played, though. We found the sigils he pained on the walls of the train and removed all of them right after I dragged you into my world. There is no way back.”

“I’m stuck…with you…”

“No such words, baby. I swear you’ll have a good life by my side. It’s not the life you chose, but it’s the one you’ll learn to love…”

One year later, Halloween...,

“There is nothing you can do?” Jake looks at the haunted house, stomach twisted in knots. “It’s been a year and none of the victims got found. Now they open it again as if nothing happened. Twenty people disappeared in one night.”

“Sir, I’m sorry,” the officer sighs. “I lost a friend too, you know. I wish I could stop them, but there is nothing I can do. I hope, one day we will find out what happened to our friends.”

“I do too…”

“She’s so beautiful…” Curtis watches you lie on his bed. Your belly filled with his baby you sleep peacefully. “I knew she would adapt soon enough. “Maybe one day she’ll accept I did this for her.”

“I don’t think she’ll believe you,” Gilliam sighs. “This was not the way we wanted to win the revolution. Using that monster to get rid of most of the people from the front end. Keeping a few hostages to work for us.”

“They did the same,” Curtis argues, eyes never leaving your sleeping form. He rarely lets anyone get close to you. Most of the time you must stay in the room he stole from Wilford.

“Did you listen to your words, Curtis? We do the same and that makes us monsters too. The only difference is – we should’ve known better…”

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#October the 31st the day I disappeared #JsHauntedHouse2020 #JTargaryen18′s Haunted House 2020 #angst #smut #a/b/o #true mates #dubcon #curtis everett #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x reader #alpha!cutis everett #alpha!curtis #snowpiercer

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whosnickydude · 3 years

Text

A soft dusk

okay so a while ago a posted this Kandreil drabble on ao3 but never really kept writing a 2nd part? but now that’s summer i have more time on my hands and i started writing again, so i guess i’m posting the 1st part here as well?? idk enjoy

CW: panic attack, Kevin has some really sad and harmful thoughts. please take care of yourselves lovies!

Kevin was spiraling. He felt as if his chest was about to explode from the pressure of not getting air through, and he couldn’t get a hold of his feelings.

Six months had passed since Riko’s death. Since the press lurking around every corner, demanding answers, fighting for a statement. None of them were sensible about it. Kevin practically couldn’t go anywhere alone the first month, or he would probably end up being stalked. One time it actually got close to physical assault.

All the while, he was mourning Riko. And he was the only one, it seemed. He felt immensely guilty, for an overbearing amount of reasons. He felt guilty for letting his brother become the sadistic monster he turned into. He felt guilty for not being able to change him. He felt guilty for leaving him. But most of all, he felt guilty for mourning him. It wasn’t fair, not with all that he did to Kevin. The sleepless nights, the feeling of always being a prey, always the second, always with a leash around his neck. He broke his hand because he was having a fucking tantrum, for God’s sake. It was not fair that Kevin still had to feel like shit because of him dying.

He started drinking, after that. More than he did before. It was the only way he knew to numb the pain. The other foxes let him. None of them understood why he felt so sad about his abuser’s death, so none of them knew how to —or wanted to— comfort him. They would throw him a pitying glance and try to do so, but after some times he shoved them off, they started to leave him to himself. So they let him drink. It wasn’t as if they ignored him completely. When everyone went to Eden’s Matt, or Dan, or Allison asked him to go dancing with them. Sometimes he got so drunk that he actually did. Most of the time, though, he stayed on the table while everyone gradually went to the dance floor. They never left him completely alone. Almost every time, Neil and Andrew stayed on the other side of the table, speaking in languages he didn’t know. Probably flirting shamelessly right on his face. However, the only one who stopped him from getting alcohol down his throat was Andrew, and only when he saw that another one would end up with Kevin passing out.

Five months had passed since Thea left him by now. And through text, at that. Apparently, he was making a fool of himself in public every day and it was bad for both of their careers. She didn’t want anything to do with him nor with Edgar Allen. The hypocrite. Kevin was the only one that was always mindful of his surroundings. The only one that acted perfect, that pushed every feeling inside so as to not attract too much undesired attention from the public. But she had it as she wanted it, and Kevin put no resistance against it. They didn’t even see each other and barely even texted or spoke on the phone.

The drinking got worse. The mighty Queen of Exy had fallen, but the only ones who saw it happening were the Foxes. And people who knew nothing about Exy in the darkness of a nightclub in full swing.

Four months had passed since on a Wednesday at 6 A.M., in the middle of his morning run, Neil had found Kevin, alone, near to unconsciousness in the middle of the road to Fox Tower. He had his body on the street and his head on the sidewalk. His face was pressed to the pavement as he sobbed, a half-empty bottle of vodka in his right hand.

Four months had passed since the last time he drank alcohol: he was four months sober now.

It had taken fights, screams, and comforting talks with Abby, but Kevin finally accepted to go to A.A. Neither Wymack nor Andrew would let him alone enough time for him to get near any type of alcoholic beverage. It took a while, but he got to the point that he spent a whole day not thinking about it.

Right now, he would kill for a drink. His mind seemed to have caught up on everything that had happened in the past few months. It was the beginning of term, so everyone wasn’t as free anymore to look out for him. Andrew and Neil had gone out a while ago, probably to the roof, since it was almost dawn. Kevin was left alone for more time than he could manage. The prospect of having to deal with still mourning the death of his worst nightmare, his own mental health, his addiction, and the school year, was simply too much. It was looming over him. He felt as if he was dying.

Maybe it was because he found himself with so few distractions that he started overthinking. Maybe he just opened the wrong Pandora’s box from the rotten depths of his mind. Either way, he was panicking. The rush of adrenaline and utter fear he felt —he remembered— from his time in the Nest was a live wire around his throat. How could he let all those things happen to him? Riko’s abuse, Tetsuji’s beating, the terror, the exposure. Being so vulnerable and ignored while also being right in the spotlight. “Always a commodity, never a human being...”

And then, what? He went running to his father, who didn’t even know he was his father. And he didn’t say anything about it until he was forced to do so. He was a coward. He was a coward, a fucking coward.

He couldn’t breathe. His head felt heavy, his shoulders felt heavy, his whole body felt heavy. Living felt heavy. Maybe he could just lay down where he was sitting on the couch and let himself go. But he couldn’t bring himself to move. His vision started blurring and everything around him was out of focus. Suddenly, there was a warm pressure on the back of his neck, and then another on his right cheek. The world started solidifying back, spinning around him, and he was gasping for air. He was letting out ragged, desperate gasps, his neglected lungs screaming for oxygen.

A face started coming to focus in front of him, but as soon as it materialized it blurred again. Tears were running down his face and he curled his arms around him. The pressure on the back of his neck —a hand, he realized— tightened, and the one on his cheek went up to pull at his hair.

“Kevin, look at me,” he heard someone say. The voice sounded familiar. “Kevin, I need you to breathe.”

The hand behind him stretched up and tangled between his hair as well, pushing his head slightly down.

“Come down, Kevin. You’re safe.”

The voices felt oddly comforting, and his hands flew up to grasp the other two. He was still crying and gasping, but it wasn’t as desperate. Maybe he wouldn’t die today.

At some point during the episode he had shut his eyes tightly, and now he tried to blink slowly, with narrowed eyes. The first thing that he saw was red hair, scarred skin, and blue eyes. Neil was in front of him, looking worried in his own way. His brow was furrowed, and he was chewing on his lip, but his expression didn’t seem quite compassionate.

“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, Kevin,” he said. He showed the motion, exaggerating his breaths for Kevin to copy. And Kevin could only look him in the eyes and comply. Some time passed —maybe minutes, maybe hours— and the panic ebbed. The tears wouldn’t stop falling and his breath was shaky, but he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore.

He was still holding both hands, and he felt the one at the back of his head slip away from his grasp. He looked back and saw Andrew staring at him, sitting on the arm of the couch. Neil was sitting on the coffee table in front of it.

“I’m... I’m sorry, I just...” he started, but couldn’t finish.

Andrew didn’t look away from him. His face didn’t demonstrate any emotion, but he still wasn’t looking away. “What happened, Kevin?”

“I...” He sighed. “I started overthinking, and I really wanted a drink, and I... I guess it just went down from there.”

His voice was small and he hated it. He felt stupid, he couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts for two fucking seconds because he started falling to pieces.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Well, don’t be,” Neil said. “It’s only natural for these things to happen.”

Kevin wasn’t really sure what he meant by that, but he didn’t have much time to think about it because then Neil was standing up and going to the kitchen. Kevin looked back towards Andrew and saw him lighting up a cigarette and walking to the desk next to the window.

“Go change your clothes, Kevin,” he said, looking out towards the campus. “You’ll be itchy until you do, and you probably drenched all that in sweat anyway.”

He was probably right, Kevin thought, but still glared in his direction. Only because it was in his nature and he felt better already; Andrew wasn’t looking at him. Though he probably knew Kevin would glare at him. Giving no response to the blonde, he stood up and went to the bedroom to change into his pajamas. Andrew was right: the sweatpants felt like heaven on his skin. He closed his eyes and brought his hands up to rub them. He was feeling sleepy all of a sudden. The panic attack had drained all the energy from him, and his muscles hurt everywhere.

He went back out to the living room, yawning, and found Neil sprawled on one end of the couch with his laptop on his lap and a cup of coffee on hand. Andrew had one too where he was still sitting on the desk, and there was another one on the coffee table.

“Is that for me?” Kevin asked, sitting down on the other end of the couch. Neil looked up at him from his laptop and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“No, Day, I felt like having two cups of coffee,” he said. They fixed their eyes on each other until Kevin decided to take the cup. Neil seemed satisfied with that and looked back to where he was browsing something. A few seconds later he clicked on something with a flourish and put his laptop on the coffee table. It was a Trojan’s game they had already seen many times.

Kevin stared at Neil, but the boy just kept watching the beginning of the game. He saw Andrew moving to stub his finished cigarette on the window sill and light up another one. The last rays of sunshine and the street lights drew shadows all over his face. He breathed out the smoke and Kevin saw it disappearing in the wind. He looked back to the game playing on the laptop and brought his knees to his chest. He sipped on his coffee, and it was sugary sweet. But he could allow himself that, at least for today.

#aftg #kandreil #kandriel #andreil #kevneil #kandrew #wip #i just love them #this is entirely self indulgent #so yeah don't expect much #panic attacks #hurt/comfort #a soft dusk

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idmakeitbehave · 4 years

Text

This I Know {Spencer x Reader}

Chapter Three

masterlist

series table of contents

summary: you’re finally released from the hospital. time to go… home? wherever that is.

word count: 2.0k

The snow-covered trees zoomed by, blurring in the distance. You leaned forward in the passenger seat and pressed your nose against the glass as you studied the outside world. The doctor had released you earlier that morning, expressing hopefulness at your recovery.

Spencer was taking you home- to the apartment you shared together. You had balked at the thought at first, the notion of sharing a home you didn’t know with this man you barely knew, but you had warmed up to the idea. Just the sweet look on Spencer’s face put you at ease. If you were going to remember your life, the one you shared with him, this was a step you had to take. And oh, how you desperately wanted to remember. The hours you had spent yesterday with him and Penelope, laughing together and looking through old photographs just strengthened that desire.

Your life before, as you had come to think of it, had been fine, pleasant almost. You were not particularly close to your family, having cut off contact with the majority of them years ago for a handful of reasons, and you had only one or two people you would even consider friends. You had a job you thoroughly enjoyed and you were friendly enough with your coworkers, but you had never considered them more than close acquaintances. These people, the one in the photos, they were different. You were sure of it.

The idea of the two lost years still shook you, but the thought of these strangers, these friends, anchored you. You had the job you had so intensely wanted, you had a team that you appeared to be undeniably close with, and you had a brilliantly beautiful boyfriend who apparently loved you. What a good life to stumble into.

Spencer parked the car and you got out, closing the door softly behind you. You stared up at the apartment building with wide eyes. “We live here?” Spencer nodded nervously, clutching your bag in his hands.

You followed him through the doorway into the apartment. The familiar scent hit you, the smell of… home? You looked around frantically, eyes trying to take in everything all at once.

“Welcome home.” Spencer shifted from foot to foot as he watched you gazing around the apartment. You walked immediately to the large bookshelf, and he almost laughed at your predictability.

You ran a finger along the spines of the books, noting which were familiar and which were not. There were a good deal in other languages, and you realized that they had to be Spencer’s. He really was an entire genius.

Spencer continued to observe your exploration with a small smile as he put on the kettle for tea. It looked almost like you were looking for something in particular, though he had no idea what it could be.

You turned away from the bookshelf, looking instead at the small end table that sat besides the couch. It was a hollow, wooden thing, and you pulled the lid off almost automatically. “Aha, here!” You triumphantly pulled a thick book out from inside, a large volume of works by Edgar Allan Poe. The book was well-worn, dogeared in places with passages underlined here and there.

“How-” Spencer’s wavering voice broke you out of your trance. “How did you know that was in there?”

You looked up at him slowly, your eyes wide. “I… don’t know,” you admitted. There was a moment of silence as you stared at each other, the heavy book still in your arms. The tea kettle whistled and he turned away from you, into the kitchen. You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware that you were holding.

This was a lot. You had no idea how to explain to Spencer that you knew the book was in there. You didn’t know why you knew, but you just did. It was like there was something deep inside of you telling you exactly where it would be.

You set the book down, determined to return to exploring the rest of the apartment- your apartment. The rest of the living room was unfamiliar, though it captured that same homey feel. You wandered down the hallway to the bedroom and cracked open the door tentatively. Your heart caught in your chest at the large bed in the middle, clearly slept in on only one side. You supposed you had known deep down that the two of you shared a bed, but it didn’t hit you until it was right in front of you.

The side with the rumpled blankets was Spencer’s, that much was obvious. You sat down on the edge of the bed. There it was again. Vanilla.

You eyed the bedside table on his side. There was a framed photo of the two of you, a birthday cake in front of you. Spencer had frosting on his nose and a luminous smile. You grinned mischievously next to him, frosting on your finger as it hovered dangerously close to his face. Next to the photo sat his watch, a wallet, and a small stack of books.

You turned to the other side of the bed- your side. Your bedside table was messier, a similar stack of books on it. There was a purple lamp, magnets attached to the base. Beside it sat a small dish of rings and earrings. You picked up the dish, thumbing through the jewelry. You recognized a few of the pieces, but there were some new ones there. A garnet ring caught your eye and you held it between your fingers, studying it. It was beautiful, a simple silver band adorned with an engraved leaf.

“That’s from me,” Spencer spoke softly from the doorway. You turned to him and he had a small, almost nostalgic smile on his face. “Orange garnet, because we met in October. And for our shared love of fall and all things Halloween.”

“Oh man,” you exhaled. “I do love Halloween. Wow, Spence. You’re a true romantic.”

His face flushed red and he stammered a little at your words. “Tea’s ready.”

You followed him back to the kitchen, turning side to side as you walked, trying to see everything. This was your home. You didn’t recognize it, didn’t know it, and yet somehow it just felt right. It felt right in a way that your Atlanta apartment never had. That apartment was just a place for you to keep your things, to lay your head down at night. This felt different, like it was so much more.

Spencer motioned for you to sit down at the kitchen counter, and you perched on one of the red gingham stools there. It was adorable, exactly your taste.

He caught you looking at them. “We picked those out together at the flea market.”

You smiled, turning your attention to the grocery list on the counter. You recognized your own handwriting, but there was another set of writing, slanted and slightly wobbly. The domesticity of a shared grocery list tugged at your heart. “Oh my god, you have genius handwriting.”

Spencer let out a deep breath as he sat down beside you.

“What?”

“You- you always say that.” His eyes were watery as they met yours and you offered him a small smile. He handed you a cup of tea, warm beneath your hands.

You recognized the mug instantly, it said World’s Greatest Dad on it. “Oh wow, I still have this! This was a gift from-”

“Mia. Your best friend from the Academy.” Spencer finished for you, smiling almost apologetically at interrupting.

“Oh,” you whispered. Of course he knew that. He must know everything about you. The thought of someone knowing you so intimately unnerved you, but you took one look at his eager face and immediately felt at ease again. This was what you had always wanted, had always dreamed of. Sharing a life with somebody who accepted every part of you without reservation.

You talked and laughed together easily over your cups of tea. Spencer told you stories that made you snort with laughter, and you loved the gleam in his eye as he watched you giggling. There it was again. That same, strange urge to keep that look on his face forever.

Day turned into night, and, after curling up in the dim light with a much-loved book, you moved to stare out the living room window, curling into the loveseat. The apartment- your apartment, you reminded yourself- was on the third floor, and you had a clear view of the night sky.

“What are you looking at?” Spencer’s voice was soft again as he watched you gazing out the window.

“The stars.” You shifted in your seat, making room beside you. “Do you want to sit with me?”

Spencer nodded, sitting down cautiously, trying to keep some space between the two of you on the tiny sofa.

You turned back to look out the window. “The stars are the same. That’s what I keep reminding myself. I woke up in a different place- in a different time, for fuck’s sake. Everything about my life is different. But the stars- they’re the same stars here as they were in Georgia.”

Spencer sighed, leaning back on the loveseat. “‘The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.’”

“Carl Sagan,” you noted with a nod. He grinned at you, nodding minutely. You stared at his face for a second, again studying his bright hazel eyes, his sharp bone structure, his cute button nose that you noticed he scrunched up from time to time. You looked at his full lips, noting that he seemed to often lick them before he spoke, his tongue darting out quickly.

You didn’t know this man. And yet, somewhere deep down, it felt like you did. It felt like you had known him all your life. You shook your head at the impossible thought and turned your body towards him. “Can I- can I touch you?”

Spencer swallowed, and you noted proudly how he licked his lips as he did so. You were right. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He nodded silently instead.

You reached up your hand slowly, bringing it to rest on his cheek. He inhaled sharply at the touch, eyes closing. You traced his cheekbone with your thumb before moving your other hand to the other side of his face. The two of you sat like that for a moment, his face held in your hands. The room was silent, the air still. It felt like both of you were holding your breath. You trailed a finger down his nose and across his lips, the other hand studying his jawline. You could feel his breath on your face, the scent of vanilla intoxicatingly close.

“You really are beautiful,” you whispered, your voice shaking. A tear slid from his eye, and you wiped it away instinctively. His eyes fluttered open, and the sudden eye contact shook you. You stared at each other as tears welled up in your own eyes. One slipped down your cheek. Spencer reached up and wiped it away, mirroring your motions. This familiar, comforting touch broke the dam, and suddenly you were sobbing.

“I- I want to remember you,” you stuttered, your breath catching in your chest. “I want to remember you more than anything.”

Spencer began to cry harder, the tears coming fast down his cheeks. You laid your head reflexively on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in close. As your sobs subsided, you felt the exhaustion wash over you and your eyes closed as your head dropped to his chest and you curled tighter into Spencer. You felt the vaguest sensation of fingers running through your hair as you drifted off to sleep and it felt as though you had been there many times before.

“I think it is all a matter of love; the more you love a memory the stronger and stranger it becomes.“ -Vladimir Nabokov

previous chapter / next chapter

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #reposting because my tag got eaten?? big sorry #sarasstuff #thisiknow

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moonflower-31 · 4 years

Text

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 26

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

A/N: Sorry it’s late. Again. Technical difficulties :/

Warnings: None

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @serendipity-imagines, @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @thatsonezesty13, @bihoeofmanyfandoms

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity - Edgar Allan Poe

Spencer raised an eyebrow as Garcia came into the room with her open laptop in her hands. She immediately placed the grey slab on the desk and began typing rapidly.

"W-what do you mean? What do you have?" Spencer asked, rushing over towards Garcia's side to see what she intended to show him.

"I've been keeping track of all the surveillance cameras in the surrounding tri-state area. And get this; just an hour ago, I got this glimpse of a very Peter-y looking guy up in Baltimore on one of their traffic cams. He got out of the city but he's headed back here. His license plate wasn't in his name, but he was driving a black chevy truck. I've put it out on the APB so the police can bring him in if they find that car." Garcia shows, turning the laptop towards Spencer to show him the footage.

On the screen, sure enough Peter was there in what was a chevy truck and with a baseball cap and a dirty flannel. He seemed to be on the phone. Whoever he was on the phone with obviously got on Peter’s nerves, as over the ten seconds of video where he was in the view of the camera, he yelled into it before tossing it out his window.

Spencer widened his eyes and began to stumble over his words. "D-do we know if that was a-a disposable?" He asks. Garcia looks up at him and shakes her head.

"I don't know his true personal number so I can't track and see if it's called any numbers repeatedly." She apologizes. Spencer curses under his breath and rubs his face tiredly.

"I… I guess I'll have to ask (Y/N) when we get back if her phone records still exist from before she abandoned her old life. Maybe we can check the numbers he used to stalk her with. If any of them have any recent repeated calls we need to bring them in for questioning." Spencer insists, pacing through the room instead of getting anywhere on the geographical profile.

Garcia nodded. "I'll do the best I can for now Jr. G Man." She says, closing her computer and then clicking her heels as she left the room to get back to her temporary office. Spencer sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took an exhausted sip of the coffee JJ had given him. He watched Garcia go, nothing but sleep weighing on his eyelids.

All he could think of was you. But unfortunately, they had a case. And the case came first.

But that didn't mean Spencer wouldn't be willing to drop everything he was doing to drop kick Peter onto his ass multiple times if he decided to show himself.

Spencer grabbed the small box he had of pins and got back to work, hoping sincerely that you were okay back at home.

It wasn't long after he finished that JJ and Emily came back from investigating the main dump site, and came back to inform him of the new findings.

"Another body? Where?" He asked, turning his head towards Emily as he picked up another obnoxiously red pin.

"9 miles from here. It fits the distance, except it was 3 miles more than the normal 6-7. What made him change?" She asked.

"Maybe someone saw him abduct this girl and he drove farther to prevent this murder being tied to the others?" JJ asked.

The two women continued talking while Spencer added the pin and began to look over the map. He wasn't really listening. Why was he so distracted? He never usually had this much trouble, especially when you were here.

His mind was going blank as he looked over the blending blurs of the map. He was developing one of those headaches again. The colors on the map all began to blur together and he couldn't make any of them out. He grunted in frustration and gripped the side of his head from the sudden onslaught of pain.

"Dammit…" he exhaled as he narrowly placed the box of pins yet again in the marker tray of the map.

"Hey… you okay there Reid?" Emily asked, her voice changing to express her concern. JJ wasn't too far behind her, her voice soft and motherly.

"Yeah, you've been kind of out of it since we left."

Spencer shook his head. "I'm fine, alright? Just… another one of my headaches. Garcia's news didn't really help anything." He grumbled.

"News? About what?" Emily spoke up, putting her pen against her hand. She adjusted in her seat, as if preparing herself for whatever news Garcia had given him.

Spencer groaned and rubbed the front of his head, his fingers digging into his scalp. "She said she found traffic surveillance footage of Peter in South Baltimore. He wore a… pretty pathetic disguise? Like… a Yankees cap and a stained flannel hiding some sort of beer company t-shirt. The only letters I could come up with from the exposed fabric were C, D, and B. The B ended up standing for beer when he moved and exposed more of the shirt-" he was pacing now without realizing, and stopped himself once he noticed.

JJ looked towards Emily for a moment, then back at Spencer waringly. "Do we know for sure where he is?" She asked. "He could be in Quantico by now if this footage isn't too old." JJ warned.

Spencer’s eyes widened. "No… no, no, no… He… Morgan’s at home. He doesn't know my apartment… she's safe…" he began to rant, more to himself than to the women.

Emily sighed and stood up. "Reid, I think you need to take a break."

Spencer looked up from the sudden change, his eyes and pupils as wide as saucers. "What?" He breathed.

"A break. You know, take a walk. Read a book or 16. Call her maybe." Emily suggested, her shoulders rising with her last one.

Spencer looked back down to the ground for a moment, finally his nerves deciding to take a break from causing him so much distress. "Maybe… maybe I will…"

Emily smiles down at him, but unfortunately was a little too soon.

"But only after we find this unsub. Hotch wouldn't want any of us to slack off. Especially with two of our team members on leave." Spencer insisted. Emily sighed and looked to JJ for help. The blond just shrugged and gave her a smile. One that most definitely said 'Well, we tried.'

"Well… Good luck then Reid. Don't overwork yourself though, okay? If you do I'm telling (Y/N) myself." Emily teasingly threatens.

Spencer chuckled. "You wouldn't. She hasn't told me anything regarding overworking myself before."

JJ grinned. "Doesn't mean she won't."

○●♡●○

A few hours passed and Arthur had to leave. Your mother would be tracking him by cell phone before he knew it, and he didn't want to risk giving your mother anymore 'product' to sell to Peter. You understood, and wished him well as he went off, of course not without Morgan giving him a talk about trying to use a disposable from now on.

But for now, you were doing the dishes as you listened to Beethoven and tried to distract yourself from Derek's obnoxious snoring. Yes, he had decided to catch up on sleep while he was with you. But you didn't blame him. There wasn't much to do. So you settled on chores while Spencer’s favorite composer played over the speakers of your cracked I-phone (Or Samsung).

You hummed along with the familiar tune and scrubbed at the ceramic plates Spencer had in the sink. It was a miracle they were even used at all, given the amount of paper plates you had found and had thrown away when you first actually got to sleep in the apartment. It seemed so long ago since he first brought you here. He hardly ever used his flatware and relied on the 'Great value' brand to supply him with things in which to put food on to eat. But thankfully, you had been slowly getting him brought back to the light side of the force. But it was an uphill battle for sure.

"Why do I have to use them? They're easily breakable, (Y/N). The plates I buy are biodegradable." Spencer had grumbled as you insisted on putting the food you had made on one of his ceramic plates.

You had playfully rolled your eyes. "Because! You wouldn't have to buy the 'biodegradable stuff' if you used plates you could wash instead. Problem solved."

Spencer had then replied with a very childish and frustrated stuck out tongue and an annoyed huff that had sent you and your aching insides into a fit of laughter.

The memory brought a smile to your face, causing you to put the plate down so as to not drop it into the sink from how far you had it held in the air. (If you dropped it, he'd really get after you about the paper plates)

As you continued to wash the dishes, your mind began to travel back to Spencer. You wondered what he was up to. What he was thinking about. Did he think of you? If he did, did he think of you the way you did him?

A sigh released itself from your lungs, letting your chest fall. The dance you had invited Spencer to was still in four months. Maybe then would be your next chance to tell him how you felt. But with that long of a wait, you didn't think you could do it. You wanted him to know. Even if you ended up being hurt in the end, you wanted desperately to tell him. Unfortunately, cookies and killers were successful at pushing your opportunities away.

You finished the last dish; Spencer didn't have any more than 6 dishes in his sink due to it only being the two of you. Derek always washed his dish when it was cleared. You turned the sink off and quickly dried your hands with the dish towel on the oven handle. Once the dishes were all in the dishwasher, you began to wander back into the living room.

You had done what laundry there was to do and Derek wasn't due to wake up for another 2 hours. He had specifically asked you to wake him up when it was 6:30 pm. So you decided that since you had virtually nothing else to do, you'd take a nap. You'd wake up at the same time you were set to wake up Morgan, and then you'd both be rested.

You turned off all the lights and closed the curtains for a dimmer light. You then grabbed the blanket Spencer had recently been keeping on the back of the couch and curled up in it. You didn't want to head into Spencer’s room and bother Derek just to borrow one of Spencer’s hoodies. No matter how much you really did want to steal one.

You settled in on the couch, and closed your eyes, letting your body begin to rest more and more with each inspiration and expiration.

When 6:30 hit, and Derek had somehow managed to wake himself up without your assistance, he groggily got up to go check on you.

"Hey, Pretty Girl, what happened with you waking me up, huh?" He asks you, rubbing his eyes with his hand. He expected an answer, but instead heard the sudden movement of fabric and the thud of something hitting the coffee table. He narrowed his eyes and looked down at you, and found you asleep. However, it was not peaceful.

Your leg kept trembling, almost kicking the coffee table as the rest of you shook in terror. You mumbled incoherent pleas under your breath, causing Morgan to panic. He was afraid this would happen.

"H-hey, kid," he started, gently putting a hand on your shoulder to slowly get you awake without alarming you. He gently shook you, but you proved to be unwakeable. So he took in a deep breath before he shook you a bit harder, calling your name a little louder. "(Y/N), hey, come on kid it's just a nightmare-"

You finally woke, heavy breathing and a jolt forward followed by a violent shaking came afterwards. You hated this. Even after having just woke up. You felt terrified. Fear was coursing through you and you had no way out of it.

You whimpered and curled up in the corner of the couch, unable to calm your racing heart or your uncontrollable breathing that came in harsh sobs.

Derek felt his eyebrows tilt as he looked at you. "Kid I… " he sighed, looking at you pitifully. You and him both were in the same boat. He had been sleeping more often to escape the look in Peter’s eyes he was reminded of whenever he saw you. But he knew you needed him, that was why he had been cutting back on his sleeping. It wasn't healthy anyways.

"C-call Spencer…" you whispered softly, hugging your knees.

Derek raised a confused eyebrow and got a little closer to your reserved form. "What'd you say?" He asked, unsure of what you actually said.

"P-please…" you spoke up a little louder, taking a deep breath as you began your request. "C-call Reid…"

Derek didn't know how Spencer was supposed to help, but he didn't want to sit by when you clearly needed the genius.

He nodded and grabbed his phone from his pocket, dialing Reid's number. He pressed the phone to his ear, whispering pleas for Spencer to pick up the phone. He reached over and gave you the option of holding his hand, to which you thankfully accepted. You squeezed his hand for dear life, just wanting to hear Spencer’s voice and hear him recall one of the many poems he'd read to calm your mind.

Meanwhile, Spencer was currently standing beside JJ, feeling his phone buzz as Hotch tried to deliver the profile. Spencer had given his expertise already, and just wanted to see who was calling him. He'd already been on high alert in case it was you. And no amount of convincing himself to focus on work was helping.

"Please have all of your available officers out looking for this unsub, and warn women of his type around the neighborhood and in the kill zone." Hotch began to warn. Spencer’s phone continued to buzz, causing the room to turn their eyes towards him. He blushed softly and flashed Hotch a desperate look. He sighed, but nodded.

Spencer nodded back in rushed thanks before muttering his apologies and leaving the main room to answer his phone.

Once outside, he picked up his phone and answered.

"Sorry, we're in the middle of delivering the profile, so I was a little caught up. How is she?" Spencer asked.

"Reid, she's… I don't know…" Derek replied, wishing he could hug you and soak up all your pain. He took the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker. "She just woke up from another nightmare. She told me to call you."

You look towards Morgan, gesturing to see if you could take the phone. He nodded, still never letting go of your hand.

"S-spence?" You whispered into the phone.

"Hey…" he replied calmly. "Are you okay?"

Instant relief washed over you. Not completely instant and overwhelming, but you suddenly felt a rush feeling of being protected and loved. Even if Spencer didn't know it yet.

You sniffled. "H-honestly? No. I'm the furthest from okay." You wiped your eyes of incoming tears, exhaling sharply so as to not encourage more sobbing.

Spencer felt his heart ache from hearing you cry. He wished he were home with you. So it wasn't just you and Derek. Strangely, after that thought, a misplaced thought of jealousy panged his heart. Seriously? This wasn't the time to be jealous of his best friend for getting to spend extra time with the girl he loved who he hadn't gotten enough courage to confess to yet. He supposed he was just worried that when he'd be ready to tell you, you wouldn't feel the same anymore.

"Is there anything I can do to help? I still have all of Edgar Allan Poe's works memorized if you need me to recite one." He offers. The idea brings a slight, and small smile to your face.

Derek's face lit up at the arrival of said smile, showing off his own signature one.

"Please? S-spence I don't want to i-intrude on the c-case but-" you began to ramble and try to explain.

"Hey, it's okay. Hotch cleared me to come take this call. You're my top priority right now. Not the case, not the profile, you." Spencer assured, smiling genuinely as he even was able to hear your voice.

You sighed gently, and let your mind relax for a moment. "O-okay… but y-you pick this time." You replied. Spencer replied in kind.

"Sure, (Y/N/N). He answered. "How about The Raven this time? It's one of his most well known works, and it surprises me you haven't asked me to read it yet."

You can feel your nerves slowing down and relaxing as you let out a soft giggle. "S-sure. But you know that's because you prefer the obscure ones."

Spencer rolled his eyes teasingly, as if you could see them. Derek gave you a reassuring look, and you nodded, letting him sit back for a moment as Spencer Reid began to read yet again another poem to you to calm the raging storm of emotions stirred from your nightmares.

Spencer cleared his throat teasingly before he began, pulling a slight laugh from you. "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping…"

Just as it was each and every time he did this for you, it calmed every part of you to hear his voice alter somewhat to fix the tone of the poem. To hear the way the words rolled off his tongue even without the poem in his hands.

You were asleep before he could even finish the poem. But that didn't matter to him. He just finished the poem and sighed to himself.

"Is she asleep?" Spencer asked softly.

"Yep. Out like a light." Morgan says, readjusting the blanket over you.

"Good. Just… call me if she needs anything else. I should be able to answer. If not text Hotch for me." Spencer expressed.

If only he could be there to see your beautiful face asleep on his couch. Maybe even with your head on his chest. To hold you close. To hear your gentle breathing in and out.

Derek got to do that.

Spencer couldn't help the jealousy he felt in his heart. Derek could get any girl he wanted. Even you. But Spencer's heart couldn't help protesting that you were supposed to be his. He wanted you to be his. His life. His love. His Darling. Well...

Only time will tell if that will ever change.

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et-lesailes · 4 years

Text

the bodyguard | pt. 4

series masterlist

pairing: dark!curtis everett x reader

word count: 1906

chapter summary: you’re reaching the end of your pregnancy any day now, but you and curtis get into a fight after a steamy night.

themes: smut, breeding kink, angst

taglist: @tanyam93, @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @patzammit, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @sammyslonglostshoe, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @whysparker, @sebabestianstan101, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @heyiamthatbitch, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @bangtan-serendipity, @troublermalik, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @bookish-shristi, @kind-sober-fullydressed, @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly, @denisemarieangelina, @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie, @rororo06, @savemesteeb, @raveviolet, @hurricanerinwrites, @captainamerica-is-bae, @shaddixlife, @tessa-bl, @marvelouspottering, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc, @thegetawaywriter, @dwights-new-plague, @rynabarnesrogers, @fckdeusername, @doloreschanal, @ssworldofsw, @la-cey, @buckybarnesplumwhore, @hevans-angel, @chuckbass-love, @stardust-galaxies, @smyfmj, @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

notes: would love to hear your feedback! graphic creds to @allthefandomstogether ~

You practically collapse onto your bed in exhaustion, one hand cradling your large bump while the other reaches back onto the mattress to support yourself. Your hair falls upon your back as you tilt your head, briefly shutting your eyes and enjoying the silence of your cart.

The past nine months have been different than anything you’ve ever experienced before. About three months into you and Curtis’ “relationship”, your grandfather passed away. Curtis claims he was simply old, but you’re almost positive he was behind Wilford’s death, considering his loyal men mysteriously died within a few days after. Not that anyone questioned it. Everyone is terrified of Curtis now. He had Wilford’s approval before his death, thanks to the baby you’re carrying, and so they have no choice but to respect him. It’s almost pathetic how quickly Mason bows down to him, practically falling to her dry, wrinkly knees every time he passes.

His own men from the tail section practically dominate the front now. Edgar and Grey are his right-hand men, now cleaned up rather nicely in comparison to the grubby clothes and overall lack of hygiene from their tail section days. Tanya is still a close friend of his, someone you’ve even had jealousy with in the past. Curtis is slightly more soft with Tanya than he is with you. You often wonder if it’s because she’s a mother, and find yourself hoping he’ll be the same way with you once you give birth to his child.

There were other times you witnessed a softer side to Curtis. Gilliam, Curtis’ dear advisor, friend, and mentor, passed before your grandfather did. You still remember how shocked you were upon seeing the tears spilled from those bright blue eyes, watching the man practically crumple to the floor before you. You remember getting right down with him and hugging him tight, holding his head close to your chest and telling him that everything was going to be alright. He melted into your embrace, letting himself collapse against your body. It was the weakest you had ever seen him.

You remember thinking about the fact that you could have killed him right then and there, if you really wanted to. His gun was in the drawer right next to you, he had a knife right in his pocket.

And then you felt an overwhelming sense of disgust and shame, immediately shaking the thought out of your mind.

You were and still are forever obedient to Curtis. You love him, even if your brain screams at you for it from time to time.

The door to the cart slides open and he walks in. You look up noticing his blood stained, button down shirt that he’s already swiftly removing. You don’t have to ask where he’s been. Ever since he took command, he forced the “useless” front sectioners to the back- the ones who did not have any jobs or services they could contribute to the train and its passengers. Now he tortures them just like they tortured him. He at least showed mercy to your friends, but you still do not like to think of the torment he puts those people through on a daily basis. He often invites you to accompany him to the tail section, a wicked smirk on his face as he asks, and you always refuse.

He’s still angry. He wants vengeance. Quite honestly, you can’t fully blame him.

“You’re going to pop any day now, hm?” the man murmurs thoughtfully, eyes locking onto yours as he looks over at you. “How are you feeling tonight?”

“Like a balloon.” You mumble, though can’t help but barely crack a smile as you peer down at your swollen belly. You can’t deny that you’re excited to be carrying Curtis Everett’s child. You’d do anything for him, and you have no idea why.

He comes over to you shirtless, leaning down to press a naturally rough kiss against your lips. “Mm. I like seeing you like this. You look so perfect, pregnant with my baby.” He mutters gruffly, his husky tone making you shiver slightly. You love that he makes you feel so wanted. You love being his, and you love that no one else on the train will ever experience him the same way that you do. He truly is entirely committed to you- he can’t even look the other front section women in the face due to complete repulsion.

He starts to pull back but you grab his wrist, looking up at him hopefully. “The doctor said that sex can help induce labor.”

He blinks but barely smirks, slowly tilting your head up. “Is that what you want, little kitten? You don’t have to pretend it’s just for the purpose of having this baby, you know.”

You barely giggle, insistently tugging him closer again and kissing him. “You know it’s not that. I always want you.”

He smirks against your lips, slowly pushing you down on your back as he deepens the kiss, tongue pushing into your mouth to explore roughly. You can’t help but moan softly when his lips move to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin with teasing nips- when you feel his hand slide up your leg underneath your dress and to your panties, fingers rubbing you firmly, you’re practically whining out in desperation.

And then the doors slide open, a loud Irish accent interrupting, “O-oh, ho oh! Sorry, Curtis, didn’t realize I was interrupting. Man, you’re still fucking? Is that even safe-”

“Edgar.” Curtis turns his head, still on top of you as he practically bores holes through the younger male with his piercing eyes. “Get the fuck out.”

“Yes, sir!” Edgar simply hoots in laughter, saluting before giving you a wink. “Have fun, m’lady!” He turns around and walks out, most likely ready to go find Grey to have a laugh together about it.

You can’t help but blush, though Curtis simply starts rubbing you again with those talented fingers, sucking on your neck even harder than before. “We should really change the code to that lock,” he mumbles deeply, leaving love bites all over your sensitive flesh- you half giggle, half moan, reaching up to grip the back of his neck. “I agree…”

He pushes up your dress and moves his head down, kissing all over your belly. “Come on, little one, we’re waiting on ya.” He glances up at you with a smirk, tugging down your panties and finding your clit with his thumb, teasing it roughly. “Fuck, I can’t wait to see you be a mother, Y/N. Already thinking of knocking you up again once this one comes out.” He reaches down to hastily remove his pants and underwear, revealing his thick erection, the mere sight in itself arousing you even more; though you can’t help but look at him with wide, innocent eyes upon his statement.

“You want more?” you whisper, and he scoffs lowly, pressing his shaft against your core.

“Of course I do. I can’t run this train forever, can I? And I don’t know about you, but I prefer we keep this a family business. We’ll need more than just one.”

You don’t even have time to respond as he thrusts into you roughly, making you gasp out loud as you move your hands to grip onto his muscular back. “Curtis!”

He groans as he bucks his hips forward, leveling himself on his arms as he stares down at you with grit teeth, eyes completely focused on your pleasured expressions. “Fuck, I love seeing you under me like this. You like that, kitten? You like my big dick deep inside you?”

“Yes!” you cry out, arching your back as best as you can, though it isn’t too much. Not that you need to help him out, anyways, he’s perfectly capable on his own. His strong thrusts, rough kisses, and dirty words muttered deeply into your ear send you over the edge with ease; your moans become louder and louder as you start to come undone. He keeps his eyes glued on you, almost addicted to the way you react to his touch. He hates that in a way, you have him wrapped around your finger. He’ll do anything to hear those moans from your lips, to see the way your body writhes and wiggles underneath him, to feel every single inch of your skin.

When the two of you finally meet your release, both breathless and panting, he pulls out and lays beside you, lazily kicking off his pants he didn’t even fully remove to begin with. You stare up at the ceiling as your chest heaves up and down, your dress still rumpled above your bump. He looks down at you, arching a brow slightly.

“Do you feel anything?”

You can’t help but think of the conversation you had earlier. You look back up at him, biting on your lip and ignoring his question for now. “Do you really only want me for kids, Curtis? Is that why you continued to be with me after my grandfather died?”

He blinks, slightly thrown off before sighing, reaching up to rub his temples. “Is this talk really necessary? Why do you think of such petty things all the time? This train was so goddamn corrupt, I’m trying to save it here. And this is what you spend your time thinking about?”

You look at him in shock, frowning as you sit up- a little clumsily, nonetheless, due to your belly in the way, but your expression getting angry. “You’re the one who made me want you, Curtis, you practically tortured me! Even after that night you told me how we would be together. I-- you knew I was always interested in you, and I knew you were using that to your advantage but-- is that really all this is? Are you still only just using me?”

He growls in annoyance, sitting up as well. “Is that what you think? If that were the case, why would I keep you around after Wilford and his men died?”

“I don’t know, for image? And I’m the only one on this train with Wilford’s blood, it makes more sense for you to have kids with me if you eventually want them to be leaders.”

He exhales in frustration, running his hand through his buzzed hair. “This is ridiculous. I-- I can’t have this talk with you right now, you’re clearly going insane from these pregnancy hormones or something.”

He stands up and starts dressing himself again, and you look at him in complete shock. “Wh-what-- where are you going?! I could literally give birth tonight, are you seriously leaving me right now?”

“God, no! Would you just fucking relax? I need to take a walk, I just-- I need to be out of this damn cart for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

You watch as he walks out of the cart, your heart pounding from anxiety and sadness. You hate this feeling. Sometimes he makes you feel like the only girl in the world, and other times it seems like he sees you as some sick fantasy that plays into an outrageous breeding kink.

Curtis, meanwhile, lets out a yell of frustration once the doors to your cart close behind him, kicking at the soundproof wall. All because he doesn’t want to admit that he’s fallen just as dangerously in love as you have.

#curtis everett x reader #curtis everett smut #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett x you #curtis everett fic

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passionate-reply · 3 years

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Have you and Telex met somewhere before? If not, you may want to make their acquaintance. This delightfully irreverent Belgian electro-disco trio came in next to last at 1980′s Eurovision Song Contest. And then they did an album featuring English lyrics by Sparks’ Ron and Russel Mael! Find out all about what makes this record tick, in this week’s installment of Great Albums. Full transcript below the break...

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! It’s time to break outside the Anglosphere, and take a look at one of the finest synth-pop acts to come from Belgium: the irreverent post-disco trio of Telex. Telex were, in fact, so European that they were sent to that most European of institutions, the Eurovision Song Contest, in the year 1980, in what was perhaps their finest hour in the spotlight.

Music: “Eurovision”

While many contemporary listeners may find “Eurovision” amusing, it actually didn’t go over well in the contest itself, and Telex managed to place second to last on behalf of the Belgian people, losing even the (arguably) more illustrious last place to Finland. It was one of the earliest true “joke entries,” so perhaps the masses weren’t ready for this approach yet. Despite its generally upbeat sound, I think the lyrics of “Eurovision” come across as really quite harsh--and the song’s availability in both English and French meant that plenty of people understood them. Mocking the financial instability of Italy and, apparently, anyone dumb enough to tune into Eurovision, there’s really a rather condescending, perhaps even cruel, sensibility about it. A conspicuous reference to the Berlin Wall, a symbol of some of Europe’s deepest divisions and greatest political turmoil, gives it an extra nudge towards feeling rather contextually inappropriate. Telex’s “Eurovision” might just be the most cynical or anti-European song ever entered...at least up until Hatari of Iceland gave us the thunderous industrial anthem “Hatrið Mun Sigra,” in 2019.

Telex’s follow-up to this “incident” is, in my opinion, where their career starts to really get interesting. While it isn’t that heavily advertised, 1981’s Sex was actually something of a collaboration album, featuring English-language lyrics on all tracks which were contributed by Ron and Russell Mael of Sparks. Given the recent resurgence of interest in Sparks spurred by Edgar Wright’s documentary on them, I figure now is as good a time as ever to revisit this somewhat lesser-known work in the Sparks catalogue--or, at least, with one foot in the Sparks catalogue.

In my opinion, Sex takes the better aspects of both of these groups and combines them into something that feels like more than the sum of its parts. Telex’s soft, yet sprightly synth arrangements have as much fun and flair as those of fellow Sparks collaborator Giorgio Moroder, and feel more substantive and organic than Sparks’ many attempts to play with various genres in which they remained outsider dilettantes. Likewise, the Mael brothers’ lyricism is a major improvement to the often clunky English offered by previous efforts by the Belgians. Recontextualized amidst a sea of dreamy Euro-pop, and delivered by Telex’s suave yet unassuming vocalist Michel Moers, the same style of lyricism that often makes Sparks feel crass and overwrought to me becomes transmuted into something I’m much more amenable to. Much like Devo, I’ve often found the “smartest guys in the room” vibe of Sparks a bit off-putting, but Sex has a certain subtlety or ambiguity about it, that keeps me coming back and pondering it.

Music: “Dummy”

The feel-good, squelching bass grooves of “Dummy” recall the most affable work of the seminal Yellow Magic Orchestra, and a falsetto hook that’s to die for marks it as one of the more pop-oriented tracks on the album. Had it stopped at “Dummy, hey, I’m talking to you,” it would be not only less interesting musically, but also conceptually; the overt questioning, “now who’s the dumb one?”, rescues it from simply being mean. I like to think it calls to mind the archetype of the fool who is constantly vocally doubting the intelligence of others, in an attempt to cover for their own insecurities. While it’s a comparatively simple track, lyrically, it establishes some of the album’s most important themes, portraying traditional “intelligence” as mutable, and perhaps questionable. Despite its appeal, “Dummy” was actually not included on the original tracklisting of the album, but rather debuted as the B-side to the single “Brainwash,” before receiving this promotion in later revisions of the LP. In this rare case, I actually think the later edition is superior, and it’s the one I’d recommend.

Music: “Brainwash”

Besides just sharing opposite sides of the same single, there’s also a strong thematic connection between “Dummy” and the slower-paced, narrative-driven “Brainwash.” Arguably the most high-concept track to be had on Sex, “Brainwash” tells the tale of an intellectual who willingly forfeits his intelligence for the sake of falling in love. That, in and of itself, is a take on the love song that I’ve never heard before. We all know the trope that being in love makes one stupid--our word “infatuation” is basically Latin for “being made stupid.” But “Brainwash” suggests that, given the choice, we might well be better off as fools rushing in. What good is a life full of knowledge if it is one without passion, and deeper humanity? The narrator of “Brainwash” seems fully cognizant of what they abandon, and makes an informed decision to do so. But what complicates things even further is the development that the object of the narrator’s affections seems desperate to make them regain their prior book smarts--perhaps a commentary on how society frames this issue, and its willingness to prioritize the prestige of education over genuine human happiness. The single “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” explores a related, but also distinct tension between knowledge and happiness.

Music: “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?”

Moreso than anything else on the album, “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” is really sort of harrowing. Moers’s falsetto feels less like a fun disco aftershock and more like a cry of pain, and the stilted melody and more brash synthesiser stabs establish an air of unease--though still not so strong that it feels out of place alongside lighter tracks like “Brainwash.” Its lyrical narrative is plainly a tragic one, with a narrator who thinks he’s encountered his wife, but can’t quite piece it together, or get the response that he’s looking for. It’s evocative of the very real agony a sufferer of dementia and their loved ones might face, losing their memories, and, with them, their connection to the people around them. But perhaps the most eerie thing about the track is that it never does dip into more maudlin territory, even if it feels like it ought to. In the full context of the album, and particularly the sentiment expressed by “Brainwash,” we’re forced to question just how unfortunate the tale expressed in this song is. Perhaps “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” is also suggesting that love is more powerful than knowledge, in its own way. Perhaps the characters it presents have transcended the need for knowledge of their shared history, because their bond is deeper and more primal than that? Similarly subversive questions about love are also posed by “Exercise Is Good For You.”

Music: “Exercise Is Good For You”

With a pleasingly abrasive, textured synth line and a rather singable refrain, “Exercise Is Good For You” is the one track cut from the later version of the album that I do find myself missing. This track’s narrator has devoted themselves to exercising--perhaps over-exercising--in the wake of a bad break-up. At first blush, it may seem a bit absurd, but this is a real-life coping mechanism, and one that can potentially be quite dangerous, particularly as it’s often combined with eating disorders. The potential for peril is compounded by the notion that, well, “exercise is good for you,” and that in a world where too few of us partake, anyone who does must be doing the best for their health. While it doesn’t deal with the realm of knowledge, I do think “Exercise Is Good For You” works in a similar space as tracks like “Brainwash” and “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” do, offering an ambiguous narrative that asks us to question something we habitually value--in this case, by portraying the apparent virtue of physical fitness in a darker and less healthy light.

Earlier, I referred to this album simply as Sex, but for the UK market, it was re-christened Birds & Bees. There is obviously something quite transgressive and irreverent about naming a pop album “Sex”! We like to think of pop music as trading chiefly in themes of love and romance, so the title Sex functions as a bit of a “low blow,” suggesting that we ought to think more cynically about “what’s really going on below.” Despite this, there’s really not a lot of terribly bawdy tracks to be had on either version of the album, which may come as some surprise if you’re familiar with their early track “Pakmoväst.” I think the fact that the album title was changed, and seemingly “censored” with the very knowing title Birds & Bees, only adds to its transgressiveness, and lends it a certain allure of the forbidden.

You won’t find birds or bees on the cover of the album, however, but rather a butterfly, feeding off the nectar of two large flowers. It’s certainly an image that can be read as evocative of sensuality, with yonic visual overtones. Perhaps more overtly offensive to the eye is its queasy, dull yellow colour scheme, which is actually much more stuck in the 70s than the rather sharp and with-it electro-disco stylings of the music.

Historically, the butterfly is often used as a symbol of innocence, particularly with respect to the carnal knowledge of sex. In François Gérard’s depiction of the mythological heroine Psyche, a butterfly hovers above the subject, as she receives her first kiss from her lover, Cupid, a god of lust and sexual desire. The suggestion of youthful innocence is only heightened when the title Birds & Bees is applied. We might also consider the similarity between the idea of naivete or innocence as a virtue, and the apparent thrust of tracks like “Brainwash,” which also challenge the utility and benefit of knowledge about the world.

Telex would go on to release three more LPs after this one, and while they never quite surpassed a cult following, they keep up with the times quite respectably, incorporating sampling and digital synth textures without losing their signature levity and playfulness. I think they’re well worth a listen if you’re interested so far.

Music: “Raised By Snakes”

My favourite track on this album is one that’s exclusive to the later release, and never appeared anywhere else: “Mata Hari,” which was not only added to the album, but given the prominent position as its opening track. Mata Hari was actually a real person, a courtesan famous for her exotic dances inspired by her time in the Dutch East Indies. But she became caught up in the political storm of the First World War, and the French government convicted her of spying for the Germans--even though many believed she was framed. After her execution for the alleged crime, her severed head was embalmed and displayed in a Parisian museum, for all to gawk at...until it mysteriously went missing, possibly stolen by an “admirer.” It’s a strange and tragic tale, for sure, and one suitably treated with a sense of mystery and uncertainty by the song. An undoubtedly complex and controversial figure, Mata Hari can be seen as a symbol of European disunity, not unlike the Berlin Wall, as well as a representation of sensuality used for devious and destructive ends. I think this track enriches the album’s themes while also feeling somewhat separate, with its more pensive mood and third-person lyricism. That’s everything for today--thanks, as always, for listening!

Music: “Mata Hari”

#music #album review #album reviews #telex #sparks #ron mael #russel mael #eurovision #eurovision song contest

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