#THEN when I made the subtitles for the first gif | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

megalony · 4 months

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Communication Error

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, requested by anon, I hope you will all like it I had a lot of fun writing this one.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989

911 Masterlist

Summary: When the 118 are called out to a crash scene, there is a bit of a communication problem that only Evan can solve. He's the only one who knows sign language. And the victim.

Enjoy.

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Running a hand through his hair, Evan let his head flop back on the pillow and a quiet groan tumbled past his lips when he noticed the time. He had to get ready for work. Not that he wanted to go in today. Evan loved his job, it was rewarding and demanding and every day was different and brought about new experiences, some of which he would rather forget at times.

But he didn't feel like going in today, he wanted to stay home. With (Y/n).

His tired, dreary eyes locked on the tv that was playing quietly in the background. Evan used to have the tv turned up on high volume, his hyper tendencies and short attention span made it hard for him to concentrate when he watched a tv show or a movie. The volume had to be loud so he could understand what people were saying and process their words.

Ever since he and (Y/n) moved in together, Evan's problem with loud volume was solved. (Y/n) needed the subtitles on whenever they watched something and at first it was hard for Evan to concentrate on watching tv and read the titles at the same time. But he found it helped him immensely. Even when (Y/n) wasn't home, Evan still kept the subtitles on and he found himself squinting angrily at the tv in the station when he had no words to process and had to use his ears for a change.

With a deep breath, Evan pushed himself up off the bed and slowly made his way towards the bathroom. He tried to shake the tiredness out of his system and liven himself up, he only had an hour before he needed to be at the station and he couldn't drive there half asleep like this.

When he walked into the bathroom, a tender smile curved on his lips that pressed together tightly when an idea popped into his head.

(Y/n) being unable to hear anything meant Evan never had a problem sneaking up on her. She prided herself on being unphased by most things until she married Evan and he found all sorts of ways to shock her and give her jump scares.

He shut the bathroom door behind him and gingerly approached the shower, taking a second to tilt his head to the side and admire the view his wife was unknowingly giving him.

He shrugged off his lounge shirt and shorts, kicking his bottoms off along with them before he tried his best to open the shower door slowly so (Y/n) wouldn't notice the sudden change in temperature. Steam curled around Evan's face and clung to his hair, turning it damp before he put one foot under the water.

Evan's tongue got caught between his teeth and his lips spread into a smirk as he hunkered down, stretched his arms out and suddenly clamped his hands down on (Y/n)'s hips.

(Y/n)'s arms coiled into her chest and a small scream mixed with a gasp tumbled past her lips when familiar fingertips dug into her hips and she was sent off balance. Her heart thumped away in her chest sending her vision blurry when she snapped her eyes open while her knees bent and gave way.

She could feel Evan laughing. She didn't have to look at him to know; his chest always shuddered and trembled, vibrating back and forth when he laughed. And (Y/n) could feel his broad chest pressing up into her back as his hands moved to bind around her waist to prevent her from falling down. Her feet skidded against the puddle of water pooling around the drain and she braced one hand on the surprisingly cold tiled wall while her other hand clamped down on Evan's forearm.

She let her eyes fall closed again so he couldn't see her rolling them at him while she tried to catch her breath.

She had been lost in thought until he snook his way in. Usually (Y/n) was able to sense Evan, but sometimes he went into stealth mode and she didn't feel him coming up behind her like this.

Evan was sure he heard her mumble his name and it only made him grin as he pulled her up so she was back on her feet again. He felt the shower door bump into his shoulders as it closed behind him and he walked (Y/n) forward a foot or two so he wasn't in danger of pushing the door back open and falling out.

He couldn't stop himself from grinning when he tucked his face into (Y/n)'s neck and pressed his lips against her skin. With his head tilted down, he could feel the water trickling through his curls, flattening his hair down against his temple. The water traced down the bridge of his nose and trickled down onto (Y/n)'s collar bone causing her to shudder against him.

With pursed lips, (Y/n) moved her hands in front of her, kept her palms open and moved her hands back and forth over her chest but the word she signed only made Evan smile. Scary. He had managed to scare her.

He grinned into her skin and bit down on her neck to make her shiver just as (Y/n) grabbed one of his hands and moved his palm to rest over her chest so he could feel her heartbeat. He had given her a fright just like he intended and he could feel her pulse. Her heart was thrashing away in her chest causing her skin to vibrate with each beat.

"Hi sweetheart," Evan leaned his cheek onto (Y/n)'s shoulder so she could see his lips moving. She wasn't the best at reading lips, especially not right now when water was cascading down around them, distorting the way his lips moved and blurring her vision of him.

So Evan curled his arms tighter around her and pressed his hands into fists so he could place them over (Y/n)'s chest. She looked down to where his hands were on her chest with his knuckles touching and when Evan started to curl his thumbs up and down like he was giving a thumbs up, (Y/n) leaned over to kiss his cheek.

It was the sign for sweetheart.

(Y/n) looked down when she felt Evan's hands move down from her chest so his arms were back to squeezing into her waist but this time, he placed his hands down to cradle her stomach. His thumb brushed up and down her skin against the water cascading down around them and (Y/n) took a sharp breath when he suddenly bit down on her neck like a vampire.

(Y/n) turned her head and nuzzled her nose against Evan's damp hair that turned a few shades darker when wet. Her hands moved to grip his wrists and she started to brush her thumbs across his skin in a slow, soothing motion. The movement made Evan smile against her skin that he was still kissing and nipping at like he was doing his best to create bruises all along her neck.

She knew what he was doing. He had his hands on her stomach because he was desperate to feel the baby move and now they were five months along, they should start to feel movements soon.

Despite Evan's eagerness, (Y/n) was the one who was silently yearning to feel the baby move. She couldn't hear the heartbeat when they went to their appointments. Evan got to sit and listen to their baby's heartbeat and know what that sounded and felt like. He got that experience whereas (Y/n) was reduced to watching the monitor, scrutinising it to see that heart beating away, forever silent in her ears.

Feeling the baby move would prove to (Y/n) that the baby was okay and actually real. Her bump didn't give her that comfort like she dreamed feeling the movement would.

Taking care to be slow, (Y/n) turned around in his arms so she was facing him and dragged her fingertips up his biceps and over his shoulders until she could cup the back of his neck. Her thumbs smoothed across the side of his jaw but she gasped as Evan's hands dug into her hips and he moved her back until she was pressed against the tiles.

They were like ice cubes sticking to her burning skin and the mix of hot and cold made her shake until Evan tilted his head down so their foreheads were pressed together. Most of the water from the shower trickled down the back of Evan's neck but the leftover droplets fell down his forehead and jumped onto (Y/n)'s skin.

It felt comforting to have Evan's arms around her, one secured around her waist and the other wormed around her shoulders and his hand wedged between her and the wall to cup the back of her neck. She could feel his fingers scratching into her skin and she let her head drop back against the tiles so she could look up at him.

She liked the way the water dripped down from his pale pink lips and jumped free from his chin. Each droplet made (Y/n)'s chest tighten until she pushed her hands against his neck and pulled him down to her level. Her fingertips stayed pressed into his skin as she connected his lips down to hers. She sucked his lower lip between her teeth and gave a little bite until Evan's chest vibrated and he meshed her into him.

Evan's head tilted down to the left and his eyes intently focused on his wife's hand as she pointed at him before curling her fingers until only her index finger and thumb were sticking up. She bent her index finger and tilted her hand up and down towards him.

She was asking if he was going to be late.

When he looked up at her, he could see she was muttering 'will you be late' under her breath and he could barely make out her voice. It didn't matter how many times Evan told her she could speak around him, she preferred to sign. (Y/n) couldn't hear her voice, she couldn't tell if she was pronouncing her words correctly or if she was whispering or talking too loudly.

But when she was particularly animated, she would speak as well as sign, but only around Evan. It made him feel special that he was the only one to hear her voice.

"I've got time," His voice was deeper than before and his eyes were hooded and each drop of water that fell from his lashes tried to distract (Y/n) from watching the way his lips moved. She could lip read well enough when up close and personal like this.

A soft smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips when she felt Evan's hand move from the back of her neck to reach down and grip the underside of her thigh. He looked her leg over his hip and pulled her closer until he was stood in between her thighs, smirking down at her because he knew she wouldn't object, whether he was going to be late or not.

With one hand still gripping (Y/n)'s thigh, Evan tilted his head down to look at his wife while he moved his left hand up. He hovered his hand over his face, going from his forehead to his chin in a circular motion before he pressed his index finger against his cheek and made a line down to his chin.

His sign made (Y/n)'s lips press together to hide her grin before she pushed up to kiss him.

'Pretty girl.'

***

"LAFD. Miss, I'm here to help you, are you okay?" A tender smile flooded Bobby's face as he yanked the passenger door open and wedged himself into the seat.

His eyes raked over the woman sat in the driver's seat, noticing that she was thankfully the only one in the car and she was awake, alert and responsive. She had very piercing eyes that took Bobby off guard as he watched her drag her gaze all over him like she was petrified some random stranger had just decided to climb into her car after she'd had an accident.

Terror ransacked (Y/n)'s body when she stared at the older man who sat down next to her. Something about his expression made her feel safe, his presence was calming and the florescent jacket was the same one (Y/n) knew her husband wore. He was part of the emergency service, someone safe who was here to help get her out.

One minute (Y/n) was on her way to Maddie's house to see her sister in law, the next, a car tried to overtake her on a single road and ended up crashing into a car coming from the other direction.

(Y/n), along with four other cars, collided when they all tried to break and swerve out the way. And (Y/n) was relieved other people were around to call for help. She had never had to call 911 before and she couldn't remember how to use the texting system that was in place for deaf callers. Maddie had been meaning to go through it with her for an emergency but they never got round to it.

"Can you tell me your name?"

(Y/n) dragged her eyes up from the man's jacket to look at his face but she couldn't work out what he had said. Confusion had to be clearly written across her face because he repeated himself, but it didn't sink in. Her body was shaking, her nerves were going haywire and the adrenaline made it hard to focus on one thing in particular. She couldn't see what he was saying.

Heat prickled along the back of (Y/n)'s neck and flooded her skin up to her wrists. Blood didn't seem to want to circulate through to her hands that were numb and on fire from panic. When she started to get anxious, she lost the feeling in her hands and they went cold and numb, blood went to the vital organs and forgot about her hands and feet.

Coiling her arms up to her chest, (Y/n) pressed her palms forcefully against the sides of her neck and scratched her nails into the skin at the base of her head.

She could feel each ragged breath that bubbled past her lips. She could smell the petrol, oil and burnt embers floating through the air, rolling into the car along with smoke that had been building up gradually since the moment they all crashed. And (Y/n) could feel her body trembling back and forth in the seat that felt cold against her unusually heated skin.

The man's hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality and she jerked away from him. Her body stayed facing the steering wheel and her elbows dug into her waist until her sides started to hurt. But (Y/n) forced herself to look back at the stranger. She had to communicate with him somehow.

(Y/n) swiped her eyes along her arm to try and clear her eyes and she unhooked one hand from the back of her neck so she could move her shirt. She rolled it up until the end of her shirt was tucked up against the bottom of her bra and her stomach was exposed.

"You're pregnant," Bobby needed assistance here. This girl was going into shock, she wasn't speaking or acknowledging him and she was starting to go into a panic attack. He wasn't getting through to her. "How far along?"

He tried again and kept motioning towards her stomach. He had the right mind to reach out and try to assess her abdomen in case she had sustained any hernia or movement with the baby but he didn't want to touch her when she seemed very unsettled and panicked.

"Five months?" Bobby watched the girl hold out her trembling hand and wave her hand at him and she seemed to nod when he spoke this time. "Can I assess you, what's your name?" He motioned both his hands out towards her but she started to shake her head as tears flushed her face and she began to sob.

With her right hand, (Y/n) pressed her fingers together in a straight line and stuck her thumb up before she looked at the man and started to rub her hand across her chest. Then she curled her fingers into a fist, kept her thumb stuck up and bashed her fist down into her left hand.

'Please help me.'

(Y/n) repeated the action again and then a third time until the man realised she wasn't having chest pains, she was using sign language with him.

She was deaf. Realisation and anger dawned on Bobby. He had wasted time trying to wait for shock to wear off when shock wasn't the problem, communication was.

"Buck?" He leaned towards the open door and grabbed the radio on his jacket.

"Yeah Cap?"

"You know sign language, right?" Bobby tried to think back to the Christmas party a few months ago at the station. Someone had come in to drop gifts off but the old lady only knew sign language and she was over the moon when Evan turned up and started to converse with her. Bobby could use those skills right now.

"Yeah…" Evan didn't like where this was going.

"I need you to come down to the dark green Ford and act as a translator for me. I have a young woman here using sign language and I don't know what she's trying to tell me. Hen, come down for medical assistance too please."

It was one of the few things Bobby was starting to scold himself for. He needed to learn some basic sign language because there were more and more people out in the community who they cared for and Bobby couldn't communicate with them. At least someone on the team had some basic knowledge.

"No, oh no. Please don't be (Y/n)," Evan tilted his head back and closed his eyes, praying to anyone that would listen.

That had to be a coincidence. It had to be circumstantial that there was a deaf woman, driving the same car as his wife, now caught up in a road accident. It had to be someone else. Evan tried not to calculate the odds in his head because deep down, he knew the chances of it being a stranger were very slim.

Evan passed the wrench in his hand over to Eddie before he made off in a jog down the side of the road, doing his best to be quick but safe so he didn't slide down into the ditch beside them.

He could feel his heart dropping down to his gut like a stone when he locked eyes on the number plate.

That was his wife's car.

"Fuck!" Evan ripped his florescent jacket off and tossed it on the floor behind the car, suddenly overcome with heat and panic all at once.

He barely looked at Bobby who eased out of the car, about to smile until he saw Evan's petrified expression. Ducking down, Evan clambered into the car and slumped down into the passenger seat, leaning across the gear stick to reach out for his wife.

"Sweetheart, sweetheart it's me. I'm here, you're okay."

Shockwaves rattled through (Y/n) and sent her shaking in her seat when a pair of familiar hands suddenly cupped her face and tilted her head to the left. Her lips parted and a shuddering breath tremored through her teeth when her eyes locked on Evan. Tears were already welling up in his eyes and his face was starting to turn a dark shade of red (Y/n) wasn't used to. He leaned over until his elbow was pressed into her arm and their foreheads were touching. But when he traced his thumb across her lower lip, a small cry left her lips.

He was here. Evan was on scene. Someone she loved and trusted was here with her. She didn't have to sit here alone, petrified, and wait for someone to come over who would be able to communicate with her. Who better to sit and translate for her than her own husband?

He tilted her head down and pressed his lips longingly to her forehead, taking a second to breathe in her scent and relish in her touch before he gently let go and trailed his eyes up and down her frame.

"Cap, Buck, what have we got?" Hen rounded the other side of the car and worked on wedging the driver's side door open so she could bend down at (Y/n)'s side.

Evan pointed his index finger at (Y/n) before he held his right hand palm- upwards and kept his fingers on his left hand straight as he waved his left hand over his palm as if he was pretending to cut something. 'Are you alright?'

"Her name's (Y/n)… she said she's in pain with her leg," Evan rested his left hand on (Y/n)'s knee for a moment or two and moved his other hand to cup the back of her neck. He reeled her into his chest and kissed the side of her head until (Y/n) grabbed his bicep to gain his attention and her hands started to move.

Hen wasn't used to seeing someone perform sign language but she could tell (Y/n)'s shaking was affecting her ability. She was flexing her fingers to stop them trembling and try to keep herself under control. But Hen didn't like the way Evan's expression started to change and morph into something worried and unsettling.

"Fuck, the airbag didn't activate, she's hit her stomach on the steering wheel and she's five months pregnant."

"I'll check them both over, see if she's okay to transport," Hen rummaged through her bag for her blood pressure kit but she kept darting her eyes back to Evan. Watching the way he leaned over the girl next to him so he could look down at Hen and see what she was doing. He wasn't usually this anxious. "Do you two know each other?" She muttered quietly.

"She's my wife."

Evan dragged his hand down his face and rubbed at his jaw before he dared look back down at Hen. This wasn't how he wanted them all to meet. He didn't want the team seeing his wife in a state like this the first time they came to know her. He wanted to bring (Y/n) to the annual cookout they had at the station and show her the brighter side of the job. He wanted the circumstances to be calm and natural, not forced and in work mode.

"Oh."

"This is Hen," Evan spelled out her name and pointed down to Hen so (Y/n) had an idea of who was around her. And he fumbled for the letters to spell out Bobby and pointed behind him. He was forever talking about the team but he hadn't gotten around to showing (Y/n) any photos of the people he worked with.

Evan smiled reassuringly and mumbled 'blood pressure' whilst doing the sign he had recently learned for when they had their hospital appointments. They had worked all (Y/n)'s appointments around Evan's days off so she didn't have to worry about trying to lip read and use a pen and paper to talk to the midwife. Evan was always there to act as translator.

(Y/n) curled her left hand around Evan's thigh and leaned her head on his shoulder, trying to hold her right arm straight so Hen could slip the cuff up near her shoulder.

She hated having her blood pressure taken. It made her feel light headed and the tightness sent shooting, tingling pains up and down her arm even after the cuff was removed.

Evan peeked his head over (Y/n)'s waist and looked down at the reading on the blood pressure before he glanced down at (Y/n). He curled his fingers together and held his index and middle finger out straight, level with his chest before he raised his hand up towards his forehead. Her blood pressure was high.

When Hen found the stethoscope in her bag, she lifted it up and indicated towards (Y/n)'s stomach. She would listen for a heartbeat. That was the only thing they could check right now. They couldn't do a scan and no physical exam would tell them if there were any issues with the baby. They wouldn't eb able to see if there was any internal bleeding or if the baby or placenta had moved.

(Y/n) would need a scan once she got to hospital, but the important thing right now was finding a heartbeat.

Her hand stayed looped over Evan's thigh and she leaned more into him when the cold end of the stethoscope was pressed against her lower abdomen, making her push back in her seat.

(Y/n) brought her other hand up to her lips and bit down on her nail, trying not to stare down at Hen but she didn't know where else to look or what to do with herself. What if she couldn't find one? What if it was there but very shallow? What would they do?

She bit down so hard on her nail that a pinch of blood welled in the corner of her thumb but she didn't care. Her head turned to look up at Evan and her hand moved from his thigh to grip his shoulder as she took a deep, tremoring breath. Waiting for him to tell her the verdict.

Evan bent his index and fourth finger down to his palm and held his hand over his chest to imply the heartbeat. He then curled both hands into fists against his shoulders and pulled away, unclenching his hands. 'A strong heartbeat.'

He could feel the relief radiate through (Y/n) when she slumped her head onto his shoulder and managed a small smile against his exposed neck. That was one less thing for them both to worry about.

"Okay, I'm going to do a saline drip, then we can get her in the ambulance."

Evan moved his fingers along his other palm to signal that he was going to walk around the car so he could go round to Hen and help get (Y/n) out the car. He hated to unravel (Y/n) from around him and when she reached out to clutch his bicep, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead before he scrambled out so she didn't have a chance to panic or drag him back.

A shiver rolled down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt Hen squeeze her hand and push the needle into the back of her hand.

A calming smile found its way onto Evan's lips when Hen moved out his way and let him take her place, crouching down beside (Y/n). He rubbed his hands up and down her thighs for a few seconds before he gently took hold of her legs and twisted them so her feet were firmly on the floor and she was sat facing him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Evan pressed his closed fists together against his chest and moved his thumbs up and down, smiling up at her calmly despite the wince he saw flash across her face.

He watched the way (Y/n) tilted her head to the side when she looked down at him and the deep breaths she tried to take as she blinked furiously, fighting off tears.

Her left hand moved to cup her forehead and she rubbed her index finger along her temple. While her right hand pressed to her bump with only her middle finger curled inwards and she moved her hand from left to right along her stomach.

"What's she saying?"

"She feels sick. That's alright baby," Evan waved his left hand over his right palm to signal that was alright before he pushed up so he was stood up with his upper half bent down towards (Y/n) instead of crouching in front of her.

His hands curled around her elbows and when (Y/n) nodded, Evan carefully eased her up from the car until she was stood in front of him. Her hands clamped down on his biceps and her forehead pressed into the middle of Evan's chest which made him smile. He leaned over and kissed the back of (Y/n)'s head, moving his hand around to her back while he took the IV bag from Hen and balanced it on his shoulder so it was easier to carry around.

Evan kept his right arm around (Y/n)'s waist and tucked her into his side while Hen stood on her other side, wedging her between them as they made a slow descent towards the ambulance.

"Hen, drive them to the hospital, Eddie tag along with them, me and Chim will stay here and sort out."

Evan wordlessly nodded while Hen opened the back doors and then proceeded round to get in the front of the ambulance. They would all reconveen together at the hospital when this scene was cleared up. It looked like Evan wouldn't be staying for the night shift today.

Moving his hands, Evan clamped them down on (Y/n)'s hips and walked behind her into the back of the ambulance. He raised a brow when she turned her head to look up at him and her lips pressed together.

Did she have to sit on the gurney?

Her leg was was aching and most likely bruised but it wasn't broken, she could walk perfectly fine. (Y/n) didn't want to sit on the gurney and be taken into A&E as if she couldn't walk when she could. It made her feel uneasy. She turned in Evan's arms and tried to give him her best smile but sweetening him up wasn't going to work and she could see that in her husband's firm expression.

He let go of her, moved one hand to hold the gurney behind her and pointed at her with the other hand.

"Sit." He knew she could read that one simple word from his lips but when she didn't move, Evan clicked his tongue and reached his hands out for her hips. He could feel her gasp soak up into his shirt when he lifted her up and sat her down on the edge of the gurney and placed the IV bag down on the pillow at the end so it was out the way and wasn't at risk of becoming tangled or blocked.

To make her feel better, Evan turned round and perched down on the gurney with her, swinging his legs back and forth until Eddie hurried up into the back and closed the doors.

Eddie plonked himself down on the seat opposite them with a curious, if apprehensive smile. Why was Evan sat on the gurney with the patient? Why wasn't the patient sat properly? Did they know each other? They seemed to be smiling and looked friendly with one another. Just as Eddie went to say something, he stopped when the girl pointed at him curiously.

(Y/n) gingerly tugged on Evan's shirt sleeve to gain his attention before she pointed over at the man in front of them. She cupped her thumb and index finger around her chin and tilted her finger away from her chin and back, asking who he was.

Evan pressed his thumb into his palm and curled his fingers over until his nails touched the top of his thumb. E.

Then he pointed his index finger upwards and pressed his middle and fourth finger against his thumb. D.

"This is Eddie,"

In sign language, it was easier to refer to someone's name as their first initial and he talked about Eddie a lot to (Y/n). Eddie was his work partner, the person he was always teamed up with and doing various escapades with so it was natural he talked about him. (Y/n) knew the team by the stories Evan told her and this unfortunately had to be the first time she met them.

"Eddie, this is my wife, (Y/n)."

This was turning out to be an interesting day for everyone.

#evan buckley x reader #imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #911 imagine #buck imagine #pregnant! reader #pregnancy #bucky x reader #bobby nash

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

Text

Speaking in Tongues (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer translates a movie for you. Things get a little tense.

Request: reader getting hot and bothered when her and spencer are watching a movie with him translating whispering in her ear? A/N: Filth. Pure filth. Thank you to @foxy-eva for translating for me (and always encouraging me to write). Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Handjob, teasing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-rough sex Word Count: 1k

MASTERLIST

When Spencer asked you to join him for casual German cinema, you had expected something innocent. Even after he’d explained that it was an attempt to become more “conversational” in German, you’d never considered how intimate it would become.

When the movie first begins, Spencer keeps a respectful distance. His couch has enough room for you two to sit without touching, but you make sure that you do; just an innocent brushing of thighs. He seems to savor the warmth, though, because Spencer is quick to inch closer.

At first, you are happy. You also lean into him, linking arms with him and holding onto his hand trapped in the middle.

You think you’ve made a smart decision.

Then the dialogue starts.

Spencer’s breath is hot against your ear. He speaks so quietly that you can barely hear him. Although, you wouldn’t have been able to focus even if he’d spoken at a regular volume. Your heart is beating too loudly to hear.

He’s still speaking English, right?

There is a lull between the characters. You try to steady your breathing.

Spencer remains focused on the screen.

The next time he speaks, you squeeze his hand tightly. He jumps but continues to whisper what might as well be sweet nothings into your ears.

The German subtitles blur on the screen. You let go of his hand and turn your palm to his thigh, instead. He jumps but continues to speak, albeit with a rougher, shakier whisper.

You begin to wonder where his limits lie.

The next time that a character speaks, you slide your hand several inches up his thigh. Spencer’s voice catches in his throat. He pants into your ear, yet still tries to translate.

It takes him longer, but he manages.

So, you continue. Between the lines, you inch your way closer to the steadily growing bulge straining against his pants.

Spencer whimpers when you creep your fingers around his length.

He misses a line.

“Keep going,” you whisper as you turn to him.

His pupils are blown and his face has turned the prettiest shade of peach.

“You first,” he challenges.

The still-existent wit earns him your obedience. You can see the simultaneous regret and relief as he realizes that things will only get… harder, as you continue.

Despite the difficulty, he continues to dutifully translate for you. Of course, he could be speaking gibberish and you would allow it. You would allow just about anything to continue your exploration.

Spencer’s voice cracks when you tug at the waistband of his sweats. He outright whines when you pull his aching erection free from their confines.

Then, he continues to translate. For approximately five seconds.

“Fuck,” he groans when your hand wraps around his dick.

You’re pretty sure that isn’t in the movie.

“Focus,” you whisper into his ear.

Then, to be cruel, you nip at his earlobe. You revel in the way it makes him shiver.

“I can’t,” he confesses.

“Try,” you coo, “do it for me.”

He tries. Even when your fingers start to move, he stutters out rough, broken English. You want to pay attention to the movie to better support his desire to learn, but the sweetness of his skin is more alluring than the screen.

You litter him with sloppy kisses while your fingers apply waves of pressure around his dick. By the time you begin lazy strokes, Spencer is already about to sob from the repressed passion.

He hasn’t even touched you, but he feels himself teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"Ich will dich ficken,” he absentmindedly grumbles.

“In English, Spencer,” you tease, failing to realize that he was long past with the teasing.

“I said I want to fuck you.”

Before you can even process what he’s said, he pulls you forward onto his lap. You scramble to compose yourself, but Spencer continues regardless.

His hands are ruthless in their pursuit, pushing under your skirt and forcing your underwear to the side without hesitation. His fingers are just as quick to slip inside you. They also find no hesitation. He groans with relief to find you already dripping with anticipation.

He’s waited long enough. His hand drops to his dick while the other helps position your hips. With one smooth movement, you drop onto his lap as your body accepts all of him.

Spencer wants to take his time, but he knows he won’t be able to last. His thrusts are staggered and rough. You grab hold of his shoulders to try to keep steady, but you find yourself slipping when he starts to move.

You grab his hair, instead. The force with which you do so is matched by the intensity of his hands digging into your hips. He holds you down, pushing himself even deeper into you until there is nowhere left to go.

He still wants more. He cranes his neck forward despite your death grip on his hair. He returns your torture with bruising kisses on your neck.

You cry out. You cling to him, holding his face against your chest and depriving him of everything but you.

He doesn’t protest. He kisses you more. He fucks you as hard as he can until he is gasping for air against your breast.

Then, the world goes quiet as everything left of his resolve shatters. Spencer buries his teeth in the sensitive skin beside your collarbone. His hands keep holding you down, even when your body starts to squirm. He forces himself all the way to the hilt as he comes.

The feeling of his release is like a balm for the pain. It is so warm, and he is so vulnerable, that you are almost happy that his hold is so brutal.

But when he lets go, panting and whimpering like he had been before, you realize that he is beautiful in every iteration.

Spencer is only gentle then. He holds you like something fragile, and you treat him just the same. You focus on the feeling of his hot, steady breath against damp and bruised skin.

“What wonderful sorrow it is to love,” Spencer whispers through the exhaustion.

Your face crinkles with confusion.

“What?” you ask.

“The movie,” he mumbles, "That's the line."

Once you realize, you laugh. He joins you. You both laugh at just how far from the plan you’d strayed.

In the background, the movie entertains itself.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my Masterlist here!

Reid Taglist (Everything Reid): @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife

Complete Taglist (All Works): @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme

Thanks for reading!

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut

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isaksbestpillow · 3 months

Text

Ossan's love returns episode 2 eng sub

I've subbed the second episode of this magnificently lovable show! This episode was an interesting translation journey, I hope you'll like it. It goes from crazy to genuinely moving several times. I already loved this show, but translating it has made me appreciate the writing and the acting even more.

The first episode and the Tver special clip can be found subbed in this post.

Download links below.

Episode 2

RAW

subtitle

Do not reupload to any streaming sites.

Notes:

Kurosawa's language: He uses hyper formal and humble customer service language at all times. I've tried to retain some of it in the translation since it's a running joke and a huge part of his character in this season.

In Japanese rock paper scissors (janken) the winner can hit the loser on the head with a toy hammer and the loser has to guard.

Urusee kuchibiru: Kuchibiru is lips. Urusee can have a million meanings from noisy to annoying to picky to fuck off so it was hard to land on a single translation when the full context of this line isn't yet given.

@babeluda @twig-tea @nieves-de-sugui @nongnaos @veikonvihannekset @bengiyo @thirstkanaphan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @faillen @ellieellieoxenfree @randifrnz @fromisstar

I tried to tag everyone who's requested it but unfortunately tumblr didn't let me tag some of you. I'll send this post to you but it would help me of you could check whether you have the visibility settings on.

If you'd like to be tagged or untagged in future episodes, please let me know! I'll try to sub episode 3 by Friday next week.

I'd also love to hear what you thought of the episode/translation!

Enjoy!

#ossan's love #ossan's love returns #my translations

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graneymar · 1 year

Note

Okay hear me out luv

after months of mutual pining, 2017!Neymar finally gets his hands on you, his french tutor, only to find out you’re refraining because your pathetic excuse of an ex had convinced you that ur not sexy nor good in bed. Now he can’t let you believe such absurdities, can he? You’re a literal goddess in his eyes, obsessing him without even trying, so he just has to softly fuck your ex’s words out of your mind, replacing them with his dirty but - oh so sweet ones

aka slightly dominant ney praising his princess and doing her nice and sweet to admittedly erase the memory of every other man she had before him ✨✨✨

#11. NEYMAR: LESSONS

SUMMARY: above

WARNINGS: filthy dirty smut (whole package literally)

PAIRING: Neymar x fem!reader

"Neymar, are you even listening to me? What’s up with you today?", you asked softly, still raising your voice a little. Neymar dropped his pen and sighed out. "Just got a little distracted, I don’t know. Not in the mood today." It was quite obvious, his eyes kept on wandering up and down the upper half of your body. It was a hot summer day in Paris and you didn’t think of anything when you decided to wear something a little more revealing, but apparently, your student fought his thoughts about what he'd prefer to do with you. "Can we just a watch a movie or something?", Neymar suggested.

"I'm not getting paid for watching movies with you", you slightly giggled. Neymar got up from his chair and walked around your living room. "What if it’s a french movie? With portoguese subtitles", he answered, putting on his cutest smile. You thought about it for a second, but shook your head no. "Let’s just finish this task and we're done for today then I guess." Neymar let out a loud annoyed breath, but nodded. "Great. Let me just get another bottle of water. Would you like one too?", you said as you got up. You heard his footsteps following you to the kitchen. Taking out two small water bottles and closing the refrigerator, you suddenly felt two hands on your waist. He pulled you closer to his body and his hands started running up and down your sides. You were confused and shocked by his actions, but also too stunned to speak up. "You're doing this on purpose, aren’t you?", he whispered into your ear. Your body shivered as you felt his breath on your neck. "W-What? What am I doing?", you asked. Neymar again grabbed you by the waist and turned you around, so you were face to face. "The way you dress lately… how you look at me… you know you drive me insane", he whispered inbetween the kisses he placed on your neck. It felt so wrong, but so right. You knew you should pull away from him, but his lips on your body felt so good, making you feel so weak. He picked you up and placed you on the kitchen counter, his lips crashing on yours, your tongues finding their own rhythm. Your body stiffed as his hands were roaming all around it. You felt his large hand making it’s way underneath your shirt. No lie, you enjoyed it, but quickly pulled away the moment he tried to reveal your breasts. "Stop Neymar, stop now", you finally exclaimed, slightly pushing him away from you. He threw you a confused look as you got down from the kitchen counter and ran your fingers through your hair, turning your back to him. "Did I do anything wrong?", he asked after a moment of silence.

You hated being so insecure about yourself and body, all thanks to your ex. He was your first boyfriend, you’ve been together for years before you found out he cheated on you countless times. Confronting him, he let you know he didn’t enjoy sleeping with you, saying you became boring throughout the years, you wouldn’t know how to do him right. Adding to that, he made you feel insecure about your body, pointing out every tiny flaw. All this lead to you becoming insecure about your body and abilities in bed.

Now how were you supposed to open up to the one and only Neymar Jr, who was used to having the most gorgeous and sexiest women? You were convinced you looked like a fucking joke next to them and you couldn’t please him the way he knew it. You wanted him, you really did. In fact, one of your biggest sexual fantasies was about to become reality, and now it was only you who stood in the way.

"No Ney, it’s not you. It’s me", you spoke up, turning around to him again, "Me and my little demons." Neymar finally understood what you were about when you looked down at your body as you mentioned your 'little demons'. "Oh God, no, please don’t tell me you're questioning your beauty." Your eyes wandered around the room, avoiding to look at him. "Why would you even think of yourself that way?"

"It’s not just that Neymar, I know I can’t give you what you need."

"Who said that?", he asked and you couldn’t hold back yourself from tearing up. "I don’t know why I'm telling you this right now, but okay. My ex cheated on me several times. According to him, I wasn't good enough, wasn’t able to satisfy him, I wasn’t sexy enough anyway. Now, please just finally drop it." He looked at you in disbelief as he took some steps forwards you. "No Ney, please", you tried to stop him, unsuccessfully. He wiped the tears from your cheeks. You looked up to him, your head cupped in his large soft hands. "Fuck this shit, fuck him. Let me show you how beautiful you are to me", he quietly spoke before you felt his passionate seducing kiss on your lips again. A thousand thoughts running through your mind, but you literally melt into his kiss and hands. He smiled as he pulled away, "I've been waiting for this so long." You smiled back, letting him you know you’ve been wanting this too. He picked you up bridal style, your arms wrapped around his neck. "What a gentleman", you chuckled.

"I'll show you what a real gentleman is", he smirked as he softly laid you down in your bed. The nervousness in you was rising, some negative thoughts still came through, but it was too late for you to stop now. All the kissing and touching made you want him even more, you practically needed him. His lips placing sweet kisses on your neck, his hands instantly went down your shirt. It was important for Neymar to make you feel secure and comfortable with him, so he slowly started massaging and squeezing your tits, listening to your quiet joyous moans, before he finally pulled your shirt up. You sat straight for a moment, throwing your shirt on the ground. His eyes lit up the moment he saw your breasts, covered in nothing but your black bra. He looked at you asking for allowance, you nodded as a reply. He took off your bra and started massaging one breast. You felt a tingling sensation the second he sucked on your other breast, his tongue flickering over your nipple. Your eyes met his as you looked down, his lust filled stare drove you insane. Neymar slowly kissed his way down to your stomach, sending shivers all over your body. He tugged on your shorts and you lift your hip up, letting him drag them down. "Baby.. you are.. you're fucking gorgeous", he said, his eyes going up and down your body. You noticed his huge bulge and sat up to look straight at it. "You want him, don't you?", he smirked. You nodded, looking him deeply into his eyes. He untied his belt and dragged down his jeans just a little bit. You waited for him to continue, but he stopped. "Your turn to take care of him", he mumbled. You pressed your lips together as you pulled down his jeans with his shorts. You swallowed hard the moment his big cock jumped up. The excitement rose, but so did the nervousness again. You knew exactly what he wanted to you do, but you were again doubting your abilities, which he immediately noticed. "Just try it. My turn to teach you", he smiled, his breath becoming heavier thinking of what a pleasure was expecting him. You deeply inhaled before you finally had his cock in your hands, repeatedly going up and down. Looking up at Neymar, you realised he needed more, so you carefully swirled your tongue around his tip. After teasing him a little, you slowly tried to take him all in - he was a little too big for you though. Moving back and forth, your hands found their way to his balls, squeezing and massaging them. Neymar let out a few moans and tilted his head back with his eyes closed, before he grabbed the back of your head and forced you to take his huge cock all in, making you gag. He moved his hips in his own rhythm, going faster, then slower again, thrusting in and out of your mouth. He pulled your on hair as he deeply thrusted in one last time before finally letting you pull away from him. You were trying to catch a breath, but he left you no time to do so. His hand wrapped around your neck with pressure, pushing you back onto the bed, spreading your legs for him and placing one last kiss on your cheek, he thrusted into you without any warning, making you moan out loud. "You okay?", he mumbled. "It hurts a little", you replied, a tiny tear rolling down your cheek. He could barely hear you since the hand on your neck applied even more pressure than before. "It’s supposed to", he smirked, deeply thrusting into you once more. Your whole body twitched, you pressed your lips together in order not to cry out. One of your hands hold onto his wrist that was on your neck, your other hand grabbed the bedsheets. Neymars eyes sparkled up watching you being all out of control and completely weak for him. He slowly started thrusting in and out of your throbbing cunt, rolling his eyes back in pleasure, feeling your walls tighten around him. Your whines turned into an uncontrollable mess of moans the moment his pace increased, hitting your point with every thrust. The pain you felt before changed into a tingling sensation of satisfaction.

"Is this good? Is this how my little pretty slut needs to get fucked, hm?", he gasped, slapping your cheek before putting pressure on your neck again. You were shocked at the slap on your face, you’ve never experienced such actions in bed before, but you had to admit you liked it. You enjoyed the feeling of being his little toy. "Mhm", you let out, your lips pressed together. You could barely keep your eyes open, tears slowly rolling down your blushed cheeks. Your whole body started pulling together, your legs got a little shaky. You were close to your climax and Neymar noticed that too, but he decided it wasn’t time for you yet. He suddenly pulled out and started stroking his cock, covered in your wetness. "Turn around, turn around", he demanded, "Ass up, face down." You did as he told you. He started teasing you by sliding his tip up and down your entrance. You pushed your butt closer to him, letting him know how impatient you were. He smirked, "Aw baby, you really wanna come for me don’t you?" You were so fed up with his teasing, you weren’t even able to answer. He spanked your ass. Once, twice, thrice. The sound of the slaps mixed with your crying moans echoed through the room. Your body twitched in pain, still you managed to look back at Neymar and show him you enjoyed it by putting on a filthy smile. He returned the smile and slowly put his huge cock into your wet little pussy, giving you time to adjust, knowing this position was way more intense. "Oh my god, oh my god, fuck", you squealed and let yourself fall. He got you back up by pulling on your hair, his other hand holding onto your waist as he thrusted in and out of you. Being aware of how you liked the spanking, he made sure to repeat his action every now and then. "Fuck, Neymar", you screamed out as your breath got heavier, your whole body shivered. "Yeah baby, scream my name, come for me", he said inbetween gasps. You felt him twitch inside of you, he was about to come too. His pace decreased, but he still managed to hit your spot hard enough. That was when you lost it all. You screamed in joy, you felt everything and nothing at the same time. He let out two loud moans as you felt his warm juice filling your inside. Gasping for air, he let his sweaty body drop right next to you. You turned around to lay on your back again, hiding your body under blankets. You couldn’t believe what just happened, but what was even more surprising for you - you loved it, you felt good doing it and you actually felt good about yourself. Neymar cleared his throat and smiled over to you, "I think I need those French lessons a little more often."

You chuckled, softly slapping his face before he pulled you closer to him and gave you another sweet kiss.

#football imagine #football imagines #imagine #imagines #neymar imagine #neymar imagines #neymar jr fanfic #neymar jr imagines #neymar fanfic #neymar jr imagine #neymar jr fanfiction #neymar x reader #neymar x you #neymar x y/n #neymar jr x you #neymar jr x reader #neymar smut #neymar fluff #neymar angst

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pensat-i-fet · 6 months

Text

Can't sleep? (Rúben Dias x Reader) / Halloween '23

Masterlist

Wattpad

“Why do you have to play on Halloween? It’s so rude”.

You could hear Rúben laughing on the other side of the line. “Well, it’s not as if it’s a holiday like Christmas so…”.

“But I wanted to spend the night with you watching movies and giving sweets to the kids”.

“No one will go to our apartment to ask for sweets”.

“And so I’ll have to eat them all by myself. Alone. Can’t you fake an injury?”

“I’ll be back around midnight. That’s spooky. We can fall asleep watching a horror movie and I’ll protect you when you have nightmares”.

“I don’t get nightmares from watching movies”, you snorted.

“What about that time…”.

“Good luck at the match, Rúben. See you later!”

His laugh was still audible before you hung up the phone. But you were honest. Horror movies didn’t really scare you. That’s why you had planned on watching terrifying ones this year. Or what the YouTube video you watched called “the most disturbing movies ever made”. But honestly, how bad could they actually be?

You really got everything ready for the night. The cosy blankets, the blackish green popcorn from Aldi that was supposed to look spooky and hopefully tasted like normal popcorn, the sweets, …and the movies. The first one was a French one called Martyrs. You always loved the way the French language sounded so surely that would make the movie less disturbing. And you could just look at the subtitles if things got too much. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Not long after the movie started, you realised what a big mistake you had made. But being stubborn could be good sometimes…however, it often was a bit of a curse. You decided to watch that movie and you were going to watch the whole movie. Even if it scarred you for life. You were not going to quit.

The thing was that you were so shocked by everything going on in the movie, that when Rúben came back, you almost had a heart attack hearing the door open and close.

“Aahhhhhh!!”

“What’s going on?”, he asked, running to the living room to see if you were ok. “What happened?”

“You scared me”, you said. And then Rúben realised you were shaking and looked at the screen.

“What on earth are you watching?”

He took the remote from your hand and exited the movie. Then turned to look at you.

“Are you actually ok?”

“Yeah, just traumatised for life. But I wanted to see a really scary movie”.

“Without me?”, you nodded. “You don’t need to prove you’re brave. Let’s go to bed. I’ll hold you tight for when you inevitably have nightmares”.

“Can we watch a movie together?”

“A comedy?”

“No, a scary movie. But not as scary as this one”.

“We can watch Scary Movie”.

You rolled your eyes and followed him to the bedroom. Rúben turned the living room’s light off, as he always did, and you ran to the bedroom. Being in the dark at that moment didn’t sound appealing at all.

“I mean, we could watch I know what you did last summer or something cheesy like that”, he offered.

“Sounds good. Let’s get ready for bed”.

Rúben’s movie choice was perfect. A cheesy slasher that wasn’t scary at all and you knew so well, that not even the jumpscares scared you anymore. But then…you heard a noise.

“What is that?”

“Oh, it’s super windy outside. Don’t worry about it”.

“Right…”.

“It was a crazy landing. For once, I wish we had travelled by bus”.

You chuckled at that and continued watching the movie…until there was another noise.

“You sure it’s just the wind?”

“Yes”, he said, looking down at you with a soft expression. “And if it’s a monster, I’ll kill it before it gets to you”.

You shook your head, moving even closer to Rúben. And eventually fell asleep. When he noticed, he moved your body gently so you would be more comfortable and turned off the TV. Time for him to sleep too.

But the wind was making so much noise. It kind of sounded like someone was trying to open the windows. “It’s just the wind, Rúben”, he told himself and closed his eyes again…and then another noise. That was a door slamming shut. But was it at their apartment or somewhere else? Maybe someone left a balcony door open and the wind closed it? Or someone was opening a balcony door to get inside an apartment.

Looking down at you, he saw you were sleeping peacefully. How could you when he saw just a small part of the movie you were watching and almost threw up? Maybe you were the bravest one out of the two after all.

He had to leave the room and see everything was properly closed…and that there was no one inside the apartment. How ridiculous. He was a grown man, scared after watching half of a horror movie.

“Rúben?”

“Ahhhh!”, it was now his turn to scream.

“Oh my God, honey. I didn’t want to scare you. What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep because of the wind and I was checking everything was ok around the place”.

“Is it?”, you asked, biting your lip because he was too funny.

“I think so”.

“Ok, let’s go back to bed then. I’ll protect you from the monsters”.

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x yn #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff #footballer x reader #footballer imagines

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ineffable-suffering · 6 months

Text

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Let me at first put a small index for you here, since this is a three part meta and you might want to read the posts that precede this one:

Part 1: The Story of Job

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

... and now: Welcome to the final Part 3! We made it! Or well, we will have, soon-ish. Because let me give you a fair warning: This one is definitely the longest one out of the three. And by long I mean literally almost 5k words long. Mainly because there's a lot to work with since the 1941 minisode is less mini and more the entirety of S2E4 and also, in my opinion, needs a lot more context than the others. But! That shan't discourage me, as I am currently stuck in bed with a bit of a sore throat, a steaming cuppa tea and an entire afternoon to spare.

So, for the third and final time in this meta series: Let's get cracking! Under! The! Cut!

I shall spare you another summary of the points I have made so far and, should you not have read or remembered them, I kindly redirect you to the end of Part 1 and the beginning & end of Part 2, where I summarize most of it. Don't worry, the link to this post will be in both of them, so you can hop right back once you're done!

On commence with some needed context.

I think one of the most important things to point out at the very beginning here, is that unlike with the other minisodes, we don't have a direct indicator that this is once again one of Aziraphale's memories or diary entries. In the Story of Job, we see him read the part in the Bible and actively immersing himself into the flashbacks (so deeply, even, that Crowley leaves in between, since Aziraphale seems to be so intensely lost in thought). And the Story of wee Morag is being narrated to us by past Aziraphale's diary entry.

All we see before the start of this episode's minisode, however, is Aziraphale driving the Bentley before Shax unconsensually hitchhikes with him and then leaves again. The title squence rolls and we're in London, 1941. And once the minisode ends, it's also not with Aziraphale looking like he just remembered something or a shot of his diary, but instead with present day Shax going to Beelzebub to request permission for the attack on the bookshop and then Aziraphale arriving in Soho, back from his trip to Edinburgh.

It's safe to say, therefore, that these two somehow indicate why and when the 1941 flashback starts and ends the way it does. And they do! You just have to listen and look closely, because the hint of whose memory this is, is a bit more subtle. Let's take it bit by bit.

Shax reveals herself to Aziraphale, catching him off guard. ("You have the advantage on me." "I do, yes.") She then go on to introduce herself as "former admissions demon" and ...

"Now, a Hell's ambassador planner, potentially plenipotentiary* to this corner of the planet. Replacing the demon Crowley."

*(Thank you for pointing this subtitle error out in the comments, @odonataanisoptera!)

At first sight, this might seem like no new information. We already know this, we have seen Crowley and Shax talk multiple times, we know Shax is Crowley's hellish successor and we know Shax now lives in Crowley's flat in Mayfair and, due to that unfortunate circumstance, Crowley in his car. You know who doesn't know this yet?

That's right: Aziraphale!

Neil himself confirmed that the reason why Aziraphale hasn't yet asked Crowley to move into the bookshop is because he doesn't know Crowley is living in his car! Which also indirectly implies that he hasn't told Aziraphale yet that he's no longer Hell's representative on Earth! Massive communication issues aside, this means that four years after Armagedidn't, Aziraphale is realizing for the very first time that Crowley is no longer officially employed by Hell.

Which is quite big news! We don't really know what Aziraphale's exact state of employment is with Heaven, but we do know from Crowley saying so (to Shax, again) in S2E1, that they no longer talk to him and he no longer reports back to them about his work. We can therefore deduct that he isn't actively operating as Heaven's ambassador on Earth anymore – on Heaven's own volition.

After they pulled off their body swap stunt post Armagedidn't, Crowley and Aziraphale of course secured themselves some temporary freedom from both Heaven and Hell. But it was only ever that, right? Temporary. Crowley says so himself at the end of Season 1: "They'll leave us alone ... for a bit." Sure, they were both sort of free to do whatever they wanted, but up until this very moment in the Bentley with Shax, Aziraphale thought he was the only one out of the two of them who had not only been let off the leash a little but also, so to speak, let go from his former employment. Which really explains his genuine, surprised look once Shax lets him know she's officially Crowley's replacement.

Their body swap trick gave them some breathing space, yes, but that's still entirely different than actually officially being let go from your job obligations and duties. What Aziraphale doesn't know either, however, (because again, Mr. Anthony J. Can't-Communicate-Crowley hasn't let him known), is that despite having been replaced and technically absolved of his hellish duties, Hell still very much relies on and demands things of Crowley. And also that Crowley himself hasn't been able to drop his weariness and worries since he still seems to seek out any and every information he can get on what's going on in the Up and Down. David Tennant said in an interview about Season 2:

"[...] interestingly, when we first meet Crowley, he's on a park bench catching up with the person who's taken his job. He obviously can't quite let go. He still wants the updates, and he still wants to know what's going on."

There's just so awfully much Crowley isn't telling Aziraphale – but that's stuff for another meta.

Either way, it eeks me a bit that we don't certainly know how much and what exactly Crowley has told Arziraphale about Shax – but it clearly can't have been all to much, since the Bentley conversation is their first encounter and Aziraphale doesn't even seem to know what Shax looks like, let alone that she's Crowley's new replacement. Crowley must have mentioned her to Aziraphale at one point or another pre-S2, because he does name-drop her when Aziraphale is about to reveal the appearance of Jimbriel ("You'll never guess who Shax was asking me about").

But it's one thing for Aziraphale to know or deduce that Hell might still occasionally send someone (like Shax) to check in on Crowley and another thing for him to not know that Beelzebub still summons Crowley whenever they feel like it, trying to coerce/blackmail him and that Shax regularly follows, even threats Crowley and lives in his goddamn apartment because she now fully replaces Crowley in his former job.

So, to sum this up: Aziraphale just received quite a bit of news Crowley withheld from him until now, but is also still lacking some other context that neither Crowley nor Shax has given him yet in order to be aware of the full picture.

Now, you're probably wondering: What the f*ck are you on about, OP, what does this have to do with the memory and narration analysis that this whole meta is supposed to be about? Well, dear reader, I'll kindly ask you to just hold onto that thought I outlined here until a little later. Tuck it in your pocket, don't worry, I'll remind you to take it out again once it's time.

Despite looking clearly incredibly surprised and, what is is again– ah, yes, flabbergasted upon hearing of Crowley's replacement, Aziraphale only reacts with a short "Ah", trying not to give away the fact that this is indeed very much news to him. He then continues to try and deflect anything Shax is saying and suggesting about Crowley. Except for the part where Shax says that she doesn't think Aziraphale seems like Crowley's type at all. And I cannot, for the absolute life of me, keep that GIF out of here, so:

God, how I adore you, Mr. Sheen, master of immaculate microexpressions.

Alright, let's move on from the brief flash of sassy angel, onto what Shax says next. Because this is the crucial part:

"You know ... what, sometime in the last 80, 90 years I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item. I didn't believe it then. Not really. Poor old Furfur. He thought you were his ticket to the big time."

Which Aziraphale replies to:

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."

But you do, Aziraphale, don't you? Of course you do. How could he forget the time he almost got Crowley caught together with him by Hell ("Fraternising!") in what was probably one of their most insane and turbulent adventures (that we know of, at least). And now he knows that Shax knows about it too! At least some of it, because she used to work together with Furfur and was the one who pushed him to do his investigation in the first place.

We end their little Bentley encounter with Shax getting out, cryptically saying "You've already told me where Gabriel is" and Aziraphale hurriedly speeding off back to London.

I'd like to briefly point out that according to Google Maps, Edinburgh is almost an 8-hour drive away from London. Of course we don't know where exactly Shax semi-grand-theft-auto'ed into the Bentley, but it's safe to say that since it's still dark when she does and Aziraphale arrives in London when it's light out and morning already, he must have at least been driving for another couple of hours. All by himself, with nothing to think of other than a) Crowley never having told him that he's been relieved of Hell's duties and –– you guessed it –– b) what happened in 1941.

And here's where it gets interesting: It's not just Aziraphale who's remembering 1941. It's Shax, too. It hit me like a ton of bricks, once I realized. Shax is the one who brings up 1941 and Furfur's mission to get his promotion. So everything we see that happens in Hell, with the Nazi spies being processed, are Shax's memories. Obviously Aziraphale couldn't have known or remembered any of that. But Shax could! And she does. Because this entire minisode is their shared memory of it, stitched together with the parts both of them actually witnessed.

And alas, here you have it: The reason why it makes so much sense that this minisode is so much longer than the last ones and also happens right after Aziraphale's encounter with Shax. They both were just very much reminded of what went down all those years ago. And they're both thinking back on it to come to some sort of conclusion. And funnily enough, it ends up being the same one – but I'll get into that in a bit too.

Aziraphale's got time to kill in the Bentley. A few good and long hours alone, with the knowledge of Crowley's and his own sort-of-newly-found freedom at the back of his mind. (Crowley! No longer bound to Hell! Himself! No longer bound to Heaven! Blimey!)

What else would Aziraphale think of, if not the time he realized, after the demon had saved his precious books, he was utterly and irrevocably in love with Crowley. And what else could Shax think of on her way back to London, if not the time Hell almost got proof of Crowley and Aziraphale being "an item", putting one of her colleagues onto investigating it and only now, decades later, coming to realize that it was true after all – giving her the confirmation that there was only one place Crowley would hide Gabriel while Aziraphale was gone: the Bookshop. Aziraphale's bookshop. Because if there's any demon that would have unrestricted access to it, it would be Crowley – as Shax has just now realized.

Let's just say it's no wonder that this minisode is about to be an explosion (pun intended) of all the things we have seen and realized about how Aziraphale capital-r Remembers things (ft. a bit more behind the scene knowledge, provided by Shax). And yes, it took me this absolutely ridiculous amount of time and words to get to the actual beginning of this minisode. But I'll be as bold as to say that you'll thank me for it because if there's one thing all of this teaches us, it's that context is so very important for memories and decision making.

... let's continue!

Title sequence: Rolled. London, 1941: Begins. Nazis in the church: Bombed. Books: Saved.

(Aziraphale: in Love.)

Right away again, the title card for "London 1941" looks like an old black and white film, similar to the retro hue and colouring of the Job episode in S2E2. We see what we saw already in Season 1, with the bomb dropping and Crowley saving the books. What we didn't know is what Shax's memory will now show us: How the Nazi spies were processed in Hell. And how she offered to help Furfur with being promoted if he could get her some intel on "some demon being up to no good."

I have yet to fully take my time to take a closer look at Shax, but I think she's a lot more competent and smart than Hell gives her credit for (similar to Saraqael in Heaven). How else would she have gotten word of A Certain Suspicious Demon while she was still an admissions demon herself. Or figured out simply by Crowley's Bentley not being at the bookshop in S2E3 that Aziraphale must be the one who'd currently be driving it somewhere. But okay, I really don't want to divert too much from my own plot here, so let's jump right ahead into our next scene: Aziraphale's first memory in this minisode.

I'm just gonna play Captian Obvious for a second here: There's literal sparks flying in the air. Red, firey, passionate sparks. And an angel looking like this:

I'll just let the imagery do the talking.

Now we have that love-birdery out of the way: I was at first going to once again call bullsh*t on the timeline our dear smitten Aziraphale is giving us here. Because I thought: "You're really gonna try and tell me that while there was an actual Blitzkrieg happening just down the block, the girls playing Ladies of Camelot had nothing better to do than to happily perform at the Westend like nothing out of the ordinary had happened?"

But the answer is ... yes. Yes, they literally had nothing better to do – because they were still performing! I chastised our dear angel too soon, because lookie here:

(Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Windmill_Theatre)

I indeed didn't know that the Windmill Theater remained open during WW2 –– but it did put a smile on my face that the article specifically mentions it remaining open even during the hight of the Blitzkrieg. Neil, you clever man!

Also, one last nugget of appreciation: Aziraphale most definitely having no clue what sort of performances actually happened at the Windmill Theater (in case you don't know, just check Wikipedia for a sec), exclaiming "Sophocles! Shakespeare!" and Crowley simply going "Something like that" just warms my heart infinitely.

Fondly thinking about Aziraphale asking Mrs. Sandwich: "What exactly is it that your girls do?"

Another thing that seemed strange to me at first, that I think I also managed to semi-debunk, is the fact that Crowley's Bad Deed of that day seems to have been to deliver 80-percent-proof alcohol to the Windmill Theater. It made me frown and go: "Huh? I don't think alcohol was illegal in England in 1941?" However, upon googling around a bit, I think it might actually be not so much about the alcohol itself, but who it was given to. Which, in this case, is the American soldiers frequenting the nude shows at the Windmill Theater. All I could find were some books and essays, one of them titled "The Wet War: American Liquor Control, 1941–1945", as well as this short abstract of a paper that seems to talk about how American soldies consuming alcohol while at war/stationed abroad for WW2 were frowned upon by US Army chaplains because "the impact that alcohol would have on the men's moral well-being".

So, it would make sense for Hell to send a certain alcoholic temptation to one of the dens of temptation itself – the Windmill Theater. Enter Anthony J. Crowley, your local Nazi-church-bomber, book-saver, angel-seducer and alcohol-smuggler. (Albeit that last one sort of failing a little. Sorry, Mrs. H.)

(Sidenote: @createserenity gave a lovely and very plausible explanation of the whole alcohol delivery and also who Crowley's character design might have been based on in the comments of this post!)

Aziraphale then of course jumps in, offering to be the magician of the evening to repay his "good friend" (sideye), waving around his little handkerchief like an excited little boy. ("Ah, the ✨theatér✨!") We also get the first zombie!Nazis content, which I believe is probably a reconstruction of what the zombie!Nazis told Furfur once they met up with him again and what Furfur then probably told Shax once he failed his mission. Brains eaten, we continue to this glorious line:

He's just so very excited and giddy about it all – and I think that's partly because he a) just realized that Crowley loves him (and he very much loves Crowley too) and b) because Bentley!Aziraphale who is remembering this, probably remembers it even more fondly and giddily. We've seen his emotions bubble over a lot more during the other minisode-memories – so it only makes sense that in this one, he's remembering himself to be almost out of his mind with happiness and excitement about Crowley the magic show.

Remember what I asked you to tuck into your pocket?

Take it out again. Go on, there's a love! Because what is it that Aziraphale realized mere moments ago during his conversation with Shax? Crowley is free of Hell.* (*and remember, he doesn't know that that's not entirely true because no one told him the rest of the facts. So yes, we know it's not quite as simple – but Aziraphale doesn't.)

For all of S2, he has been trying to bring his relationship with Crowley to a new, more domestically intimate level (our car!), confidently and potentially even a bit carelessly ignoring the still-very-much-there threats of Heaven and Hell. I think one of the things that might have still been holding him back in his attempts to get to the next base (huehue) was the fact that he thought Crowley was still actively employed by and tied to Hell.

In all of S2, Aziraphale does come across as a little bit blinded by his desire to finally be with-be with Crowley (rose-tined glasses obstructing the view and all) but he's not completely carless. He knows Hell to be way more cruel to their employees and has always been careful to not get Crowley into too much trouble by being associated with him. But now he has (a little falsely) deducted that Crowley is in fact no longer in hellish demand – and isn't that just absolutely tickety-boo! Lacking the context that we, the audience, have, Arziraphale.exe is currently running hot on: Heaven and Hell don't care about Crowley and me anymore! We're free of our employers' interest in us and the threat that used to bring!! I've been trying to lock this serpent down ever since the World didn't end – and now I finally can!!! I'm We're able to do whatever I we like which is to finally confess to Crowley!!!!

From Bentley!Aziraphale's point of view, this is the literal green light on their highway to Alpha Centauri! Metaphorically, anyway. More like their country road to the Southdowns. And, for now, the M1 to London– back, back, back to Crowley!

For a minute, I did wonder about why he doesn't seem at all worried or stressed once he arrives in London after his journey. After all, Shax did very clearly threaten him and insinuated that she already knew where Gabriel was. But if you look at Aziraphale all throughout Season 2, it's so very evident that he's completely occupied with being soppily nostalgic of all the memories he recalls of him and Crowley and, even while facing off with Heaven and Hell again, seems oh too happy to ignore all that because he only has eyes for one thing.

Need I say more?

So, of course, realistically Aziraphale should probably be worried and weary of what Shax said (and maybe also a little taken aback by the fact that Crowley never told him any of this). But oh, isn't the world just that much lovelier when you look at it through shades of yellow and rose? And ignore everything else because if you only look at what you want to look at, both you and the serpent of your dreams are finally free to be together? So, of course! Azirapahle should be so! Very! Concerned! But instead, he is so! Very! Happy!

Both back in actual 1941, after Crowley saves his books, as well as in his memory of the story, aka in the current present day – which we don't get to see until he leaves the Bentley, but then it does show.

And it shows even more while he's still remembering 1941:

Crowley doing an American accent? Oh, that must have been so funny and charming, look at him slapping his thigh, unbuttoning his jacket, leaning back all suavely and watching me– I mean ... the Ladies of Camelot.

There's this excellent meta by @cobragardens I read on the colours of red and yellow in this 1941 minisode as well, which further makes a point of how red is clearly Crowley's colour in Aziraphale's mind – and it's so, so vibrant in this memory specifically. Poor angel has really got it bad for his beloved book-saving demon.

I'd also like to point out Aziraphale's tendency to exaggerate again, both when it comes to others and himself. We see this in the other minisodes as well, and here again, when he seems almost overly-clumsy, dropping those big trick-rings twice, making a tower of cards topple over and then dropping even more things on the counter. This is probably just a bit of a projection how he might have been feeling about performing as a magician: Slightly nervous, trying to overplay it and yet very keen on getting it right.

Crowley seems to always just be watching silently when memory!Aziraphale is acting a little out of character – possibly because there was no actual reaction from him since these slightly overdramatic things weren't actually this dramatic in the first place.

Another thing I would very much take with a grain of angelic memory salt, is one of the Nazi zombies actually walking into the shop while Crowley and Aziraphale are still in there. First of all, that would be pretty bold of him/them, given there's only three people in this tiny shop. And second of all, don't you think it's odd that neither Aziraphale nor Crowley would notice a literal undead person sauntering into the shop? I'll give Aziraphale the benefit of the doubt, since he's currently on cloud nine. But Crowley? How on Earth would he miss that?

Unless the zombie never actually went into the shop, put on silly costumes and rings (because given their track record, in my opinion, goofing around is a very un-Nazi-like thing to do) and it's just what the autopilot of Aziraphale's daydream is playing in the background, to fill in the gap for how the zombie!Nazis figured out where his magic show would take place. Because as we already saw, Aziraphale is a bit, well ... busy in that moment.

This GIF is not sped up, by the way, that is indeed the absolute astronomical speed Aziraphale shook Crowley's hand with when he agreed to pretend to shoot him on a live stage. He's my favourite. Of all time.

Alas, the curtains at the Windmill Theater draw aside, ladies and gentlemen: Enter Fell the Marvellous!

Firstly, I would like to point out that Aziraphale is literally being surrounded by all things Crowley – the red curtain to his back, the red and black feathers to his left and right and, well, literal Crowley in the audience to his front.

Just another little ode to how beautifully this whole minisode is done colour-wise.

If you read Part 2, you might remember me saying that how and what Aziraphale is feeling is actually translating directly to what we, the audience, are shown through cinematographic and auditory clues. And this very same thing happens here too. Its starts around the minute mark of 28:31. Right after Aziraphale realizes that his miracles aren't working and he still announces the bullet catch, introducing Crowley, you can tell that the whole frame starts to shake every so slightly.

At first, it's extremely subtle and you could possibly wave it off as simply being filmed with a hand-held camera. However, the further we progress into the bullet catch trick scene, the more the frame starts shaking.

I have taken the liberty to make a little cutdown of how this intense shaking progresses, so that in case you never noticed it before, I can spare you the time of going back to watch it for yourself.

It might be a trick of the eye but it even seems like the edges of the frame grow blurrier the closer the actual firing of the gun comes. And I don't think I have to tell you what feeling this is trying to convey. Anyone who's ever had a panic attack would probably describe it exactly like that. At least I would.

Everything is shaking because Aziraphale was most certainly out of his mind with fear and adrenaline. He wants to do this, he has to because he needs to show up for Crowley the way Crowley showed up for him at the church – but he's also literally risking being discorporated for good. And once again, we feel his panic, we feel like just like it's our own blood pumping through our veins, just like when we ourselves are shaking with fear. Because this is his memory. And a memory of such a tense and dangerous moment takes a long time to feel less scary.

Once they successfully pull of the trick, the shaking stops, of course. Fell the Marvellous nails his second trick by stealing Furfur's picture, the Nazi!zombies wander off to Satan knows where and we get another one of Shax's memories when we see Furfur not getting his promotion. (Almost makes you feel a little sorry for him, poor bugger.)

I don't have much to say about their romantic red wine candle light boogaloo, apart from the fact that it makes me want to punch holes in walls with how smited smote smitten Aziraphale looks at Crowley the entire time. And also there's this awfully sweet post about Crowley deciding to still sit and drink with him despite not knowing yet that Aziraphale had stolen the evidence picture.

HE IS SO IN LOVE I AM GOING TO SCREAM–

Back to reality, whoa, there goes gravity (as we plummet down to Hell).

Because remember: While most of this was indeed Aziraphale's memory, some of it was Shax's as well. And I'm pretty sure she knows most of what went down that night. After all, Furfur was most definitely the one who caused the rumors of Crowley and Aziraphale being "an item".

So, while Aziraphale was in the Bentley, indulging and revelling in his love-struck memories of the night he almost died* (*discorporated) twice and managed to survive both times because Crowley was there and trusted him, Shax also thought back on all of this since it was the final nail in the coffin that confirmed to her that Gabriel was hiding in the bookshop with Crowley.

So, what's the conclusion that both characters have come to during this very long flashback? It's simple:

Aziraphale loves Crowley. And Crowley loves Aziraphale.

There's only one person Aziraphale would trust with Gabriel – and that is Crowley. And there is only one place that no other demon would have access to except for Crowley. And that is the bookshop. Shax knows this now. Which is why it makes so much sense that once we're back in present day!Hell, she immediately requests a legion to attack the bookshop. Because she knows this is the only place Crowley and Aziraphale both consider safe from the outside world, and the only place Crowley would have access to because Aziraphale loves trusts him. Reflecting back on it, 1941 confirmed to her that they have been and still are the item everyone suspected them to be.

Clever, clever Shax!

As for Aziraphale: It's less of a conclusion, to be honest, and more of a reassurance, an affirmation of sorts. As I pointed out in my horrendously long context introduction, Crowley no longer working for Hell is exactly the push Aziraphale needs to finally feel like it's possible to make his move and confess to him.

And what does that news- and memory-induced realisation look like? This:

Ah yes, what a lovely day to confess your millennia-long love!

Too bad Crowley's not really up to speed yet and Aziraphale's rose-tinted little moment is met with:

... a face-full of plants. Whelp.

It's okay, they'll figure it out eventually.

My final little sidenote: The Jane Austen Ball and why it wasn't about Nina and Maggie

By all means, if you're already sick and tired of my tangents, do feel free to just skip this and end the meta early. I hope you had a good time with it, let me know your thoughts!

And for those of you who are up for a last burst of tinfoil-hatting: My conclusion to all of this is that I am 100% convinced that the whole Whickber-Street-Association-turned-Cotillion-Ball stunt Aziraphale pulls off in the next episode, was never actually meant for Nina and Maggie.

Why? Because up until getting a mouthful of plants once he arrives back in London, Aziraphale hadn't even known yet that Crowley's awning of a new age under the canopy had failed! The last time they spoke was over the phone in Edinburgh which ended with Crowley hanging up on Aziraphale to go make the love mission happen. And yet, Aziraphale clearly already has the whole ball thing planned out once he arrives in Soho, because he already calls it 'a night to remember'.

So, riddle me this: Why would Aziraphale plan this whole over-the-top romantic Jane Austen Ball on his ride back to London to make Nina and Maggie fall in love if he didn't even know yet whether or not Crowley's attempt at it had been successful or not?

It's almost like he meant for it to be his ideal way of a romantic confession for someone else.

'member the pub scene in S2E2?

Aziraphale: "People would gather and do some formal dancing and then realize they had misunderstood each other. And were actually deeply in love!" Crowley: "Now that sounds unlikely."

Resolving a deep misunderstanding like, hm, for instance, your "de facto partner" not telling you he'd been let go by his toxic employers just like you and also your quarrel about you wanting to protect your former-asshole-turned-cottage-core-dad boss from your own former toxic employers? With ✨a ball✨? (And that being, well, really unlikely to work? Oh, deary-dear angel. Oh, Aziraphale. Be still, my beating heart. You're a soldier for trying, I'll give you that.)

Are you goddamn done yet, OP?

Yes. I am. The tinfoil hat defense rests. I'm aware this was less focused on the actual unreliable narration and a bit more on contextualizing memories and feelings with decision making, deductions and actions – but hey, the road to epiphany has many winding paths. Or something.

Once again, here are Part 1 and Part 2 and if you made it this far: Congratulations, you have reached the end! Thanks for baring with me. I hope you enjoyed the journey just as much as Aziraphale did his daydream in the Bentley. And if you and me both feel strong enough for it, I might see you around in a cheeky little Epiloge to this meta series!

(Also: @dancingcrowley asked so nicely for me to tag them once Part 3 came out, so here you go!)

Cheers!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens s2 #my own meta #why aziraphale is an unreliable narrator #1941 #good omens blitzkrieg #bullet catch scene #bullet catch good omens #someone take this laptop away from me i need to be stopped #neil if you see this wink with both eyes i'm sure i'll feel it

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fishsticksloser · 7 months

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Deaf!Reader

RotTMNT x gn!reader

Warnings: deaf reader, fluff, in a different style than normal (because it's really really short and if they were separate it'd be practically nonexisitant)

A/N: The first AO3 request I'm posting. :) I was gonna do a platonic one, but I am running out of those and they're mostly fics now.

They all know sign language

With Donnie becoming nonverbal at times

And Leo losing his voice from singing too loud too often

It was a necessity

So although it takes getting used to, they absolutely can communicate with you

And I mean it takes getting used to as in they have 3 fingers so some signs are a little different (like how they sign M and W)

Donnie is the best at it, having used it more than any of his brothers

But when you're in danger, but you don't notice due to your deafness?

Oh my god

Raph flips out, from then on he's keeping you close

Or if its really dangerous, he's making sure you're far far away

Shakes Leo to his core

He'll teleport you somewhere safe, scaring you by accident as he uses his portals to get you to safety

Mikey uses his chains to pull you to him before getting you to safety

He about has a heart attack because of this

While Donnie uses his tech

Those watches he made everyone?

Yeah, he made you one that will vibrate if there's danger to help you get to safety (it also has subtitles and such when people are talking)

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astoundingbeyondbelief · 5 months

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Kaiju Week in Review (November 26-December 2, 2023)

I wasn't over the moon when Toho announced that Takashi Yamazaki's Blockbuster Monster Movie was in fact the next Godzilla film. I had seen a few of his works—none bad, but none spectacular either. Well, I've set my sights on watching the rest in the new year, because Godzilla Minus One is an unqualified masterpiece. A tagline from the original Godzilla, King of the Monsters! comes to mind (as it often does when you're me): "Mightiest melodrama of them all!" A lot of the post-Showa films suffer from an abundance of characters who just spout exposition and look at monitors; here, almost everyone in the small cast gets at least one close encounter with Godzilla, and the monster's backstory is conveyed with extreme efficiency. This tale of a war veteran trying to rebuild his life in the ruins of Tokyo, stumbling into a family, finding fulfillment in blowing up leftover mines, and haunted by what he perceives as his cowardice in combat, would have been plenty compelling without Godzilla.

Since it does have Godzilla, it's high on my list of the best movies of the year, and I only need one viewing to call it one of the best installments in the almost-70-year-old series. Yamazaki patiently waited some 15 years after Always: Sunset on Third Street 2 for his shot at a Godzilla feature. You certainly get the sense, watching one of the most brutal, pissed-off incarnations of the monster ever to grace the screen, that he spent every day of it in preparation. Watch it often while it's still in theaters, and watch it big.

Godzilla Minus One will gross about $10 million in its U.S. opening "weekend", a third-place finish that beat expectations. For context, Godzilla 2000, the last Toho Godzilla film to receive a wide release here, made about $10 million during its entire theatrical run here. Ticket prices were cheaper then, of course, and Minus One was helped along further by almost half of attendees going to premium-format screenings. Conversely, it had to overcome Americans' subtitle phobia, and the first weekend of December is usually a slow one. I was pessimistic at the outset, but now I expect larger theaters to carry the film into the new year, especially with near-universal raves from critics and audiences.

Yes, a third section for Godzilla Minus One; it's well-deserved, I promise. MyKaiju is risking life and limb by hosting an English translation of the film's novelization, written by Takashi Yamazaki himself. It appears to be at least partially machine-translated, but the Japanese text is included for comparison. Haven't read it yet, as I want to see the film a second time first, but quite a breakthrough given how mysterious this sort of thing usually is.

Monarch: Legacy of Monsters could never hope to compare with the opening of a stellar new Godzilla film; unfortunately, I also thought this week's episode was the weakest so far. It's bookended by Frost-Vark action, but the rest just drags. All's forgiven if the teacher and the hacker smooch though.

Toho and Legendary used to let each other's live-action Godzilla movies breathe; now the U.S. opening weekend of one is coinciding with the opening marketing push of the other. IGN released a trio of pics from Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, showing Kong with his axe; Dr. Andrews, Jia, and Trapper (Dan Stevens's character) in uniform; and Godzilla "evolving into a powerful new form." The same article included an interview with director Adam Wingard. Naturally, he didn't give away much... besides the return of Doug.

Earlier in the week, Legendary put out a trio of posters featuring Godzilla, Kong, and the film's antagonist, now christened Skar King. The taglines ("Unite" for our heroes, "Bow to Your King" for SK) sound like kaiju campaign slogans. Makes me wonder if, like Godzilla vs. Megalon before it, the movie will improbably capitalize on the presidential election next year. To steal a joke from Titanollante: Godzilla/Kong unity ticket? They'd have my vote.

Godzilla's new form, meanwhile, has already been spoiled by a T-shirt on Legendary's own site and some dire-looking Playmates figures. It makes sense that Wingard would want to have his own spin on the character after keeping the design from Godzilla: King of the Monsters for Godzilla vs. Kong. Hard to cast judgment without seeing the real design in full, but there's one particular detail I really like.

The film also has a booth at CCXP in Brazil, with a panel later today, so I think a trailer is incoming (the main reason I hammered out this whole post so quickly).

I missed this one last week: Tsuburaya announced an anime project called Ultraman: DARKNESS HEELS. The DARKNESS HEELS branding has been around for a while, spotlighting prominent evil Ultras—and, of course, Jugglus Juggler. No details on the anime yet, but if the Juggleman's there, so am I.

The big toy reveal this weekend was Super7's ULTIMATES! MaiGoji figure. Previous Godzilla figures from this line haven't lived up to the official photos, but hope springs eternal. It's $85 (much less than the MonsterArts); preorders started Friday. Other highlights: a Super7 ReAction figure of the original Godzilla's skeleton, which comes with a little Oxygen Destroyer, and a plush Mothra from Surreal Entertainment that can flip to imago form to a neck pillow-shaped larva.

#kaiju week in review #godzilla #godzilla minus one #monarch legacy of monsters #godzilla x kong the new empire #ultraman darkness heels #kaiju

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 9 months

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When The Girls Talk Boys | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Author's note:

Words: 2.051

*** BOYS ***

She was beautiful. Everything was beautiful about her. The way her eyes lit up as she talked to JJ and Emily, and how her lips always curled up into this adorable pout-smile she always did when someone said something a little too inappropriate for work.

Watching her from across the bullpen had been my favorite thing to do ever since I met her. The first few days, that was all I did. I just watched her from across my desk or as she made herself a cup of coffee. Even when we were in the field, all I could really do was list off any and all facts I knew about whatever was happening. I couldn’t bring myself to actually talk to her as I would get too nervous.

That was until she asked me to go see a screening of Alien Girl, without subtitles. I think that might’ve been the moment I fell in love with her, but I didn’t quite know it back then. One cinema date turned into two, turned into three, turned into dinner dates and after-work drinks or pre-work coffees and breakfast. After two weeks of going out on casual dates, I had finally dared to kiss her.

Knowing fraternizing between co-workers is strictly prohibited, the two of us had decided to keep it under wraps. From then on, we had been strictly professional when we were at work, however, the second we were alone, we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves. Every night, she and I found ourselves, kissing and touching like no one else.

Every day, I fell more and more for her.

“You have been awfully chipper lately, pretty boy,” said Derek, capturing my attention.

I shrugged, returning to my file as though I hadn’t been staring at my co-worker for the past ten minutes. “Eh, it’s the sun,” I dismissed him, not wanting to attract any more attention than I already have. “The beautiful weather we’ve been having lately tends to boost serotonin levels. It improves your sleep, synchronizes your biological clock and lowers stress levels.”

While I was ranting off factoids, Rossi joined the conversation. “I think it sounds more like there’s a woman in your life,” he suggested whilst dropping another file on my desk.

Rossi and Morgan both tilted their heads and raised their eyebrows, neither of them really believing anything I was telling them unless it involved a woman. Of course, they were right, but I couldn’t tell them that.

“Who is she?” Morgan asked, noticing my faltering.

Sighing, I shut the file on my desk and turned to my co-workers. “Fine, there is someone,” I told them honestly, capturing their attention, along with my boss’. “She’s… just amazing… You know how someone can just take your breath away with one look?” Morgan, Rossi and Hotch all nodded their heads slowly. “I don’t really understand it, to be fair… It’s-It’s just… I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s a first,” Rossi chuckled.

“So, who is this woman?” Morgan wanted to know.

I fought my instinct to look right at her. If I did, they would most definitely figure it out. They were the best profilers after all. So, instead, I grimaced and turned back to my file. “I-I can’t tell you… It’s kinda new so I kinda want to keep it to myself for now. Don’t wanna jinx anything.”

All three of my co-workers chuckled as they patted my shoulder or simply shook their heads as they left me alone to get back to work. As I let my own words simmer in my mind, I looked up to find her already looking at me with that gorgeous smile on her face.

It did make me wonder if she, herself, talked about me the way I just talked about her.

***GIRLS***

Watching Spencer from across the room was one of my favorite things to do. I just loved how he furrowed his brows in concentration or how his tongue would poke out as he wrote something down. I hated not being able to touch or kiss him whenever we were at work. But I also did know that this was for the best.

“You’re daydreaming,” Emily pointed out, capturing my attention.

I let out a chuckle. “Yeah, a bit tired, I suppose.” It wasn’t a lie. Last night, Spencer and I spent a lot of time together, cuddled up in bed, just talking. And kissing. And touching. All things we couldn’t do when other people were around.

“Ooh, who kept you up last night?” JJ questioned, having heard part of the conversation. There was a teasing in her tone that I had used on her myself whenever I would ask about Will when they first started going out and I was the only one who knew.

Shrugging, I turned away from the girls, ignoring the way my cheeks were heating up. “No one– it’s…” I couldn’t lie to them anymore. I had to say something. Something that would get them off my back, something that would allow me to gush about Spencer without them knowing who I was talking about. “It’s kinda new, so I don’t wanna jinx it…”

“We got a new lover alert?!” Penelope exclaimed as she passed my desk, catching onto my last words. “Tell me everything!”

I fought the urge to glance across the bullpen towards Spencer, who was talking to Morgan, Rossi and Hotch. No one was supposed to know about us. No one could know how we’d gone on several dates and how we’d kiss and touch each other in ways that weren’t very appropriate at work.

“I–” I inhaled a sharp breath, thinking about what to tell them and how to tell them. “He’s a sweetheart, you know? He’s a gentleman…” I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from continuing, but then did anyway. “In and outside of the bedroom.”

The girls all gasped in surprise. “Y/N!” Penelope exclaimed, capturing Spencer’s attention. I locked eyes with him for a split second, which wasn’t enough to alert any of the girls.

“He’s all I’ve ever wanted and I think…” I pressed my lips together. There was no way I could ever admit to what I’m truly feeling for my co-worker. “I think I might be falling in love with him.”

The girls’ jaws dropped while their eyes widened. Their reaction sent a rush of heat to my cheeks, forcing me to hide my face in my hands. I couldn’t believe I was admitting all of this to my co-workers during work hours, even.

“Oh my God!” Penelope cooed, holding her hands to her heart.

“What’s going on?” Morgan asked as he joined, hearing his favorite girl’s exclaims.

“Our little Girl Wonder is in love!” she shouted loud enough for everyone in the bullpen to hear, including Spencer.

Morgan’s eyebrows raised. “Are you now? Who’s the lucky fella?”

Shrugging, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s–I’m… It’s kinda new. Don’t wanna jinx anything.”

Something shifted in Morgan’s facial features, like puzzle pieces fell into place. Rather confused, his eyes flitted from me to Spencer and back. “You… You’re in a new relationship?” he asked me, to which I nodded very slowly as I was trying to grasp onto what he figured out. “And so did you…” he pointed at Spencer.

My eyes widened ever so slightly as they flicked towards Spencer, my lips pressed together tightly. “Y-yeah,” Spencer responded nervously. “Can happen, right? I-it’s a coincidence…”

Morgan hummed suspiciously while Emily narrowed her eyes as well. “But it’s not a coincidence how you’ve both been staring at each other since you guys entered the office…”

Exchanging quick glances, Spencer wordlessly told me he wanted to tell them and while I agreed, I also didn’t want them to win. But I also knew I wasn’t going to win against my co-workers. They were the best at what they did after all.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told them, shaking my head and crossing my arms.

“Oh, come on, y/n!” JJ whined, followed by a chuckle. “You’re in love with him!”

My eyes landed on Spencer again as his eyes softened and his lips curled up into a smile. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, ignoring everyone else around us and the fact that I was still trying to dismiss their suspicions.

“I–” I tried to get myself out with some little white lie, but looking into Spencer’s honeycomb eyes, my insides completely melted and my walls came crashing down. “Yes,” I squeaked.

The most beautiful smile tugged Spencer’s lips upwards and I couldn’t help but mirror said smile. Albeit the setting wasn't’ the most romantic, the moment felt kind of sweet.

“Nawwww!” JJ, Emily and Penelope called out.

I rolled my eyes at them, though I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. “This is kinda awkward.”

“Is it, though?” Spencer asked as he took a step closer towards me. He was quick to grab my hands and pull me up to my feet.

Chuckling, I looked up at him. “It is when you don’t say it back, honey,” I whispered, scrunching my nose.

“I’m in love with you, too, baby.”

A wide smile spread across my cheeks as I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed him deeply. The shivers the feeling sent down my spine caused me to forget about everyone else around us. It wasn’t until I pulled back from him and Hotch spoke up that I realized where we were.

“I’m gonna need to see you two in my office,” he said sternly, though the ghost of his smile still resided on his face.

Sighing, we smiled at each other before following Hotch to his office. I didn’t let go of Spencer’s hand until we reached the office. The two of us listened to what Hotch had to say and filled out the forms he needed us to. Once we were done in the office, Spencer and I exited and made our way to the breakroom.

“Are you okay with everyone knowing?” Spencer asked when he shut the door while I started making us some coffee.

I smiled up at him. “Yeah, it feels freeing, kind of? Means I can just talk to the girls about you without having to hide who you are.”

Tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants, Spencer made a beeline towards me. “You talk to the girls about me?” he asked, a slight pink tinting his cheeks. I simply hummed as I grabbed at his sweater to pull him closer. “What do you tell them?”

“That you’re a sweetheart,” I replied and kissed his cheek. “That you’re a freak in bed,” I kissed his jaw with a mischievous smirk plastered on my face. “That you’re my lover.” I kissed his nose. “And that you’re all I need.” I finished my answer with a kiss to his lips.

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this at work,” he mumbled but leaned in again for another kiss anyway.

A knock on the door startled the both of them into releasing one another. Morgan peeked his head inside. “All right, lovebirds, Hotch wants us all in the briefing room.”

Nodding our heads, Spencer and I walked out of the breakroom together and joined the rest around the round table. Spencer kissed my knuckles before taking a seat, allowing me to take one on the other side of the table. It was better for us to sit apart, anyway. At least then, we could refrain ourselves from constantly touching each other. It had been our way of keeping us a secret for so long.

We had been able to go without anyone finding out for longer than I had anticipated. But with our co-workers knowing, it felt as though a weight had fallen off my shoulders. I loved Spencer and I loved how everything we did was ours without anyone knowing. But having it out into the world, I didn’t have to be careful with every glance, every touch or what I wanted to say to him.

From now on, I could say what I wanted to him, I could hug him if I needed it without any suspicion.

From now on, I could love him openly and loudly.

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh @Jassy122

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds

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tangerinesgirl · 1 year

Text

The Hourglass

AFAB!Reader x Marquis Vincent de Gramont

Word Count: 1k

Rating: explicit, 18+, no minors

Warnings: smut, choking, slapping, denied orgasm, derogatory language, Marquis is an asshole, Dom!Marquis, Reader uses sex as a weapon, French swears

Summary: Reader is a manager of a hotel being deconsecrated. Think that scene in John Wick 4 in the Marquis' office but the hourglass is timing you having sex as well. Not a happy ending (well, for you anyways) and quite a dark fic. A few French swear words but I'm not a French speaker so I apologize profusely if they are wrong/the context is wrong. Please do message me. My first piece on Tumblr, so be kind! I have written on AO3 before though!

♡♡♡♡♡

Four guards escort you to the office of the Marquis de Gramont. You've heard rumours about the High Table but you've never had the honour of meeting any of them until today. They certainly made an impression on your hotel, threatening you with deconsecration with no solid proof that you've done anything wrong. This is why you're here. Since your grudge is with the Marquis and the Marquis alone, you left your concierge at the hotel, being useful and evacuating all the guests.

You brush yourself down out of nervousness, you have to admit you look good, I mean you do want to make a good impression afterall.

"Come", the voice says from inside the room. The guards open the massive double doors but don't follow you inside. The Marquis already has a handful of bodyguards inside.

Your heels clatter on the concrete floors, reverberating in the massive yet empty room, giving you a sense of power and femininity, a nice ego boost. The Marquis is staring out the window, wearing a very flattering grey three-piece suit. On closer inspection there are also small flecks of glitter. They catch the late night sun every time he moves. You thought you looked good but, damn. There's an hour glass matching the one at your hotel that the High Table so generously gave you, the blood red sands threatening to run out.

"Do you believe in rules, Miss Manager?", the Marquis has a very thick Parisian accent, you wish there were subtitles for this conversation.

"I do."

"And consequences?", the Marquis dramatically pours himself a cup of tea. He stirs in two spoons of sugar and licks the spoon, making direct eye contact.

"Indeed."

"So you don't deny you've been harbouring a fugitive?" It all makes sense now, you have no idea how he knows about John Wick staying at your hotel. There's bloody eyes everywhere. You can't deny helping Wick. You also can't seem to deny how attractive the Marquis looks right now. Or are you just attracted to his power? Or is it the suit? Maybe all three?

"Marquis, as much as I believe in rules, I al believe in second chances... and making amends", you step slightly closer and pick up the spoon on his desk, licking it in the same way he did moments earlier. His guards reacted immediately when you moved, unholstering their guns to point at you in seconds. The Marquis gestures for them to lower their guns, watching you the entire time, never breaking eye contact. He looks you up and down, your back arched and displaying your chest as you put on a little show, pulling it out with a soft but satisfying pop.

"Leave us", the Marquis orders the guards. They do as they are told. You were searched on the way in so they know you were unarmed. They probably also know of your ulterior motives and what's about to transpire, probably why they moved out so quickly. The doors clatter closed.

The Marquis taps the glass on the hourglass, the clink echoing around the room. "A lot of things you can do in an hour", states the Marquis.

"Come on now, give yourself a bit more credit", you lean over his desk to straighten his tie. He grabs your hand just before you do, "Don't think this will save your pretty little ass".

"You think I have a pretty ass?" is your take away. He throws you down on the desk, the cup of tea clattering to the floor. "Turn around". You do as you're told. He hikes up your dress and plays with you through your underwear. You let out a small moan. He stops briefly and you look back and see him unbuckling his belt. "I said turn around", he takes off the belt and wraps it around your neck. His other hand moves your pants to one side and he sheaths himself inside you in one fast motion, winding you. He's incredibly large, almost to the point where it hurts. You let out a gasp as he slams himself into you. He forces you down on the desk, arching your back for him. He grabs both of your wrists to keep them in place behind your back, still holding on to the belt. He slowly tugs on it as he thrusts himself into you. Over. And. Over.

"Such a slut, do you always offer yourself as forgiveness when you break the rules?", he babbles.

"Only for you, Marquis."

He swears under his breath, "fuck, I like it when you say my name... Do it again". He tugs on the belt again, the loss of oxygen turning you on even more.

"Marquis"

"Louder. I want all of the High Table to know how much of a whore you are", he removes the belt from your neck, and slaps it across your ass. You inhale sharply, shocked, "Marquis!" He does it again before suddenly turning you over to thrust into you again.

He grabs the end of the table for leverage, his other hand holding you down by the chest, playing with your breasts through your clothes. He feels even deeper from this angle, "I'm close, Marquis". Your orgasm is nearing, but just before you can come, he removes himself. You look at him, confused, as he strokes himself so he can finish. He lets out small moans and the occasional "putain" as he edges closer...closer... Then, he audibly cums, on your face, and on your dress. You're pissed, first you're denied of your orgasm and now your favourite dress is ruined.

He opens his eyes and tucks himself back in, grabbing and tying his belt, "Clean yourself up, fils de pute". You glance over at the hour glass, it's just about to run out. The Marquis catches your gaze and tuts. "Did you really think this would save your pathetic hotel?" The sands run out and there's an explosion in the distance. The Marquis grabs you by the neck and presses you against the window to watch. He grabs your hair so he can whisper in your ear, "these are your consequences".

#marquis de gramont #reader #reader x marquis de gramont #bill skargard #john wick #john wick 4 #vincent de gramont #john wick chapter 4 #marquis vincent de gramont

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booasaur · 3 months

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Have you seen this french soa "Ici tout commence" ? There's a wlw story going on that's pretty nice! Lots of tropes ! (strangers -> bestfriends -> lovers, the socially anxious introverted x popular extroverted mean girl, fake dating....) If anyone wants to watch their story, you can ask to follow @itsoiise on twitter they have the videos with eng subtitles :) I hope you have a great day !

Hi, yeah, as I briefly mentioned the other day, I am watching it, but still pretty behind.

Instead of just watching a cut of the ship's scenes, I downloaded all the eps from this current season and the provided French closed captioning, and then machine translated those to get English subtitles that mooostly work. Then I just started watching from the first ep.

As usual with soaps, even though I'm usually jumping in for just the ship and will often skim to their parts, I like to know the full context and do eventually get sucked into the rest of the stories, so at this point I've finished Teyssier's flareup, the Lionel/Kelly/Mailk/Ambre love square, just completed the David abuse story, and am now fully entering the Carla pregnancy arc. That's in November, so I still have about three more months to catch up to.

I'm surprised you mentioned fake dating for Carla and Berenice too, since she's right now in the middle of fake dating Souleymane! But please don't give me any other spoilers, I know that currently, as in right now in February, there's a lot going on with them but I've blacklisted everything so I'm actually staying pretty spoiler-free, except knowing there is activity, or at least there was on Berenice's side, that's about how much I picked up when this first popped up on my radar.

But anyway, so I love them already! Their friendship really is a perfect mix of opposites attract, like you said, the confident mean girl and the socially anxious introvert, but like any great relationship, that's just a fraction of their dynamic.

Carla being so outgoing and without any respect for boundaries that she quickly bulldozed through Berenice's, who would have never reached out first, while Berenice being so quiet is what made Carla unthreatened enough to seek her out and let her in, that's how their differences put them together but what's kept them together are all their similarities. Berenice's no doormat and her light sarcasm and humor and willingness to call Carla out are actually what make Carla really like her, and it's Carla's very occasional kindness (mostly drawn out by and for Berenice) that made her reassure Berenice at the very start and convince her to stay.

Each makes the other a better person; Carla pushes Berenice to be more outgoing and not stuck in her head or her screens so much while Berenice pushes Carla to be nicer and fairer to everyone. If they weren't already a ship I'd be shipping them!

Most of all, they genuinely like each other! It's funny that individually they're both the type to be isolated from the rest of the school, Carla too spoiled and snobby, Berenice too withdrawn, but they get along perfectly. All the contrasting and complementary parts of their personalities makes them always happy to just hang out with each other, on the same wavelength but never boring and predictable. They're just so playful and at ease and comfortable with each other, it's wonderful. :)

#replies #femslash related stuff #Anonymous #sent on 20240131 #5 #ici tout commence #carlice #that's the ship name?#the second half...

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creedslove · 1 year

Text

STUDYING

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

A/N: I got the inspiration for this piece during my own spanish class this week, I was supposed to be paying attention but I was thinking of him and my upcoming test and got distracted. Also, it's worth to mention that reader studies Spanish in a language school that teaches adults foreign languages just like I do in real life (and I'm 26) which means there's NOTHING to do with highschool or underage reader at all. If this kind of school isn't a thing in your country then it's too bad, lol!

Summary: Pedro helps you study and get your Spanish essay done on time but you get distracted by your personal tutor at home

Warnings: fluff, sweet boyfriend Pedro and a tiny bit of smut towards the end

1.2k words

It was about your third or fourth sigh that caught Pedro's attention. He knew you were having your moment of studying and he always made sure to give you your space, so you could focus, do your tasks, spread all your pens and papers with endless notes across the table and finish everything on time.

However, this time he could tell by the times you ripped pages off your notebook and crumpled it things weren't going so smoothly. He'd borrowed one of your highlighters to highlight his lines in the new script he was engaging into, being comfortable in the living room when he heard you mumbling something about 'fucking that shit'

He frowned curiously as he knew you absolutely adored studying Spanish, you enjoyed it so much you often spent hours making cute and colorful vocabulary summaries you'd learned in class, and you were nerdy to the point of writing essays without the teacher requesting them, just for fun, writing about random topics you enjoyed.

And Pedro was also aware you didn't study Spanish because of him. You'd been studying it for at least a year before you two met, knowing it had to do with the possibility of getting a better position, or a new job, or a nice trip abroad or even understanding movies and series. As he knew, you loved studying languages and that was one of the things he loved about you. And also the fact he could practice it at home with you, enjoying the fact you very often got his internal jokes or pet names you called each other.

In reality, he knew he wasn't the reason why you started learning Spanish, but he knew he was the reason why you kept studying it and made sure to get good results. And he loved it.

One thing you really enjoyed about Pedro was that he never intruded in your business. He knew you were smart enough to learn it by yourself and only if you needed help he would offer some. You avoided asking him for help as much as you could, you just wanted to do things on your own and you also loved his proud face when you were able to carry full conversations on different topics or understand a whole movie without having to rely on subtitles. But that essay was driving you insane.

Your test was coming up and it made you nervous. For the first time, you began feeling the difficulties in the language as the grammar was becoming harder and harder and you didn't know what else you could do to memorize that. Your essay, or composición as your boyfriend would say, was stressing you out, as nothing seemed good enough, you've written better, hell, even Pedro had told you many times how good your writing was and he wouldn't lie to you, that's for sure. But yet, you weren't convinced and when you finished that piece of shit you called a text you were already exhausted.

You began collecting your pens and pencils and organizing them back into the case and cleaning up the table when Pedro walked towards you. He had a sweet smile on his face and gently stroked your cheek, his curious brown eyes scanned the place until they fell onto your work.

"¿Qué pasa mi amor?" He asked in his beautiful, sexy accent and pulled a chair, sitting next to you. "I know you can do everything, but if you want, I can help you" he offered gently, not really thinking you'd agree with it, but when you handed him your text he grabbed his reading glasses, those black ones you loved and that always distracted you. At that point, you didn't give one single shit about tests, grades or evaluations, you would love to climb his lap and ride your handsome boyfriend while he dirty talked in spanish into your ear until exhaustion.

You barely noticed him talking to you, you were too busy looking at him, his tight sweater looking great on him, his messy soft hair, the way he softly bit his lips unconsciously when he focused on reading and those damn glasses.

"Y/N? Princesa? Are you listening to me?" He raised his brow and stared at you, waiting for you to reply. You swallowed hard and looked at him, feeling your cheeks flushing as you were caught fantasizing about your boyfriend.

"Y-yeah, I am, sorry cariño, I was just thinking of the test" you lied and looked at what he was pointing out in the paper. Pedro had taken a red pen and circled some words, you had either misspelled those or just put them in the wrong place, but overall your text was pretty decent. He gently explained you what you got wrong and how you could fix it better, though he could also tell you weren't really caring about that at the moment and knowing his sweet little puta very well, he knew whatever was on your mind had nothing to do with tests or school.

"Are you having wet dreams about your Spanish teacher, Y/N?" He folded his arms and looked at you "because I can just tell your mind is miles away from your studies and by the way you are clenching your thighs together you are probably very wet now" he smirked and loved how red you got. You knew there was no way you could fight that and lying would be just stupid. You bit your lips and chuckled, placing your hand on his thigh "I would have these if they fired that annoying cunt and hired you instead, though I can't complain about my private tutor" you whispered and leaned into his body, kissing his exposed neck gently and before he had any other action, you got up and immediately sat on his lap, facing him and pecking his soft lips gently, feeling his facial hair tickling you. His hands immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, at the same time you raised your ass lifting your skirt up and feeling the contact of his rough jeans against your thin panties, moving your hips slowly against his, the friction on your core sending shivers down your spine just as Pedro felt his pants tightening at how hard he got.

"I know you want to help me, but we both agree this isn't my best work, so I can even rewrite it later if you want, but now…" you kissed him deeper this time and you felt how Pedro bucked his hips against yours, looking for more touch, more exposure of your skin on his.

"Y/N… you're teasing me" he groaned and only got a smirk as a reply

"Lo que quiero decir és que podríamos hacer otras cosas ahora, papi… ¿Qué te parece?" You whispered against his ear knowing it drove him insane when you spoke with him like that.

Pedro pulled your panties to the side and ran his thumb up and down your hard clit, feeling how wet you were and nodded.

"Sí, pero si no te vayas bien and la prueba, voy a darte un castigo" he whispered back against your lips and slapped your ass hard, making you whimper and feel your cheek burn, as you definitely knew what kind of punishment he'd give you.

______

A/N: this is my first one shot after years of not writing. I hope it wasn't so bad and there might be a second part to it because I still have many Spanish tasks to carry out which means there might be more ideas, hopefully a little bit more smut this time. Also I posted it through the app and it somehow got worse when it comes to editing posts 🤌

Anyway, feedback = life

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal works #actor #hot actors #male actors #pedro pascal headcanons

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