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jbaileyfansite · 5 months

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Interview with Jonathan Bailey and Matt Bomer from GQ Hype

Filled with cozy, Hemingwayesque signifiers of midcentury masculinity (think: taxidermy and artfully-tattered boxing gloves), the restaurant seemed perfect for a breezy, late-autumn hang in the West Village.

But there’s one problem: Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey have burgers on their minds. And while this place boasts a surplus of dead animals nailed to the wall, it somehow only serves snacks and salads in the afternoon. And as Bomer points out, Corner Bistro—a pub that, in his opinion, serves some of the best burgers in town—is just a six-minute walk away.

The British-born Bailey—who, in his black sweater, floppy beanie and overstuffed backpack, looks more like a backpacker who just rolled out of his hostel rather than one of the streaming era’s top heartthrobs—waxes rhapsodic about In-N-Out, the California burger institution, which he recently tried for the first time.

He asks the suave, Old Hollywood-handsome Bomer, who spends most of his time in L.A. with his husband and three teenage sons, where In-N-Out falls on his personal burger index. “Our boys are really good judges of burgers,” Bomer says, and for them, In-N-Out is up there—but so is the burger at Corner Bistro. And how can we send Bailey—the Viscount of Bridgerton himself—back to London without tasting New York’s best?

Our location, midway between Stonewall Inn and Julius, two of New York’s most historic gay bars, is apt. The project we’re here to talk about—the epic new Showtime series Fellow Travelers, in which the pair star—tips its hat to the legendary 1969 riots that happened in Stonewall, but goes even further, telling the story of gay liberation in the second half of the twentieth century.

Part epic love story, part political thriller, Fellow Travelers begins in 1950s Washington, D.C., with an illicit affair between the strapping Hawkins “Hawk” Fuller (Bomer), a State Department official savvy to the ways of power, and the earnest, energetic Timothy “Tim” Laughlin (Bailey), the kind of wide-eyed idealist who goes to D.C. wanting to change the world. When they first meet, Tim is a conservative Catholic boy; his passionate, intensely erotic affair with Hawk both liberates him and throws him off his path.

Through the decades-spanning run of their relationship, the series takes us from the Lavender Scare of the 1950s—when a McCarthy-era policy that institutionalized homophobia expelled many “sexual deviants” from government, resulting at one point in a suicide a day—to the AIDS crisis of the 1980s.

The series is based on the Thomas Mallon novel of the same name. But where Mallon’s book generally focuses on the 1950s and the explosive romance between Hawk and Tim, the series expands the Fellow Travelers universe to reach through the decades and cover the Vietnam War protests of the '60s and the White Night riots of 1979.

“It's been taught that LGBTQIA+ history begins at Stonewall,” says Jelani Alladin, the actor who plays queer Black journalist Marcus Hooks in the series. “It’s a kind of false narrative. Queer people have been around taking a stand for themselves since the beginning of time.”

It feels like a disservice to call a series so sexy and so compelling as educational. But Fellow Travelers does serve as an important history lesson for younger generations who may not fully understand the battles fought before their time. “It was a really dark period in American history that obviously we're not taught in school,” says executive producer Robbie Rogers, who prior to his work in film and TV was the soccer player who became the first openly gay man to compete in a North American professional sports league. “We're not taught LGBT history.”

When the first episode of the series came out in late October, a viral clip showcasing Bailey and Bomer in a particularly kinky sex scene had Gay Twitter shuddering with excitement. In the scene, Bailey’s Tim uses his power as a sub to persuade Bomer’s Hawk to take him to an important D.C. party. “I’m your boy, right?” he tells Hawk. “Your boy wants to go to the party.” In surely one of this year’s hottest scenes on film or TV, we see Bailey hungrily suck on Bomer’s toes and gamely attempt to put his foot in his mouth. Earlier in the series, Hawk gives Tim the name “Skippy” after thoroughly dominating him in bed, a gesture of affection as much as of ownership.

Sex is a powerful, world-shifting force in Fellow Travelers, but it’s also a Trojan horse. While the early episodes bristle with erotic energy, every exchange between Bomer and Bailey is about power as much as it is about sex. And the further you go into Travelers, the more you realize what’s really at stake when these two hit the sack.

“Even in the ‘50s, they had joy,” Travelers creator and writer Ron Nyswaner, the Oscar-nominated screenwriter of Philadelphia, says. “You might be struggling, but that doesn't mean every moment of your life you're a victim of oppression. Behind closed doors they had a life—it's just that at any moment, the police could come through those doors and ruin that life.”

That unapologetic approach to queer desire is still pretty revolutionary in a big-budget prestige series on a major network. Gone are the days when gay characters were allowed to exist onscreen as long as they adhered to respectability politics. In Fellow Travelers, the queer characters are allowed passionate, unapologetically freaky pleasures.

“There's no shame attached to that,” Bailey says. “And I do think Matt's character detonates something in Tim. It's a gift to meet someone [who does the] radical act of helping you feel less shame and understand that intimacy that can be explored in so many different ways.”

Religion is a big theme in Fellow Travelers. Hawk is bound by covenant to his wife; Tim struggles with Catholic guilt. And like many queer people, Bomer and Bailey themselves have both had to negotiate religion within their queer identities.

“It took me a long time to dismantle it and to question what I was being told,” Bailey says. “Religion is interesting because it’s the voice of the shame but also [a source of] relief. There was this person that I could speak to—and I definitely did have that full conversation with a higher power. But the contradiction is brutal. To really lean into that as a gay kid who's not born into a gay family, you see both sides of what religion can provide, which is scathing judgment—as I felt it looking back—but also a real space for catharsis and nourishment.”

Bomer says he has an individualized approach to religion: “It's something that I've found for myself over years and years of exploration. It's just highly personal that way.” Bomer is proud to have raised his kids in a truly intersectional environment. “They go to an Episcopal school, but they're in school with Muslim kids, with Jewish kids,” he says. “We gave them that experience and then let them find their own way from there.”

On the way to Corner Bistro, Bomer gives Bailey a capsule tour of gay West Village. “That’s an iconic lesbian bar,” he says, pointing out Cubbyhole on West 12th street. Later, he asks if we’ve ever been to Fire Island. “You can have any experience you want there,” Bomer tells me, when I confess my anxiety around Speedos. “It's not just one thing.”

These streets bring up certain memories for Bomer. He tells us about coming up as an actor in New York in the early 2000s, at one point living in “a renovated crackhouse in Brooklyn.” Later, he worked two jobs to afford a one-bedroom apartment he split with a fellow aspiring actor—none other than Lee Pace, the famous, and famously tall (6′ 5″, if you don’t know), actor and Internet Boyfriend who Bomer has known since high school. “I’ll tell you how long I've known Lee Pace,” he says. “I’ve known him since he was shorter than me, when he was 14 and I was 15.”

As gay men are wont to do, trust that the group veered off-topic to talk about vocally-prodigious divas. Bomer has just seen the Broadway production of David Byrne’s Here Lies Love, which tells the story of the rise and fall of Imelda Marcos, the wife of the Philippine dictator Ferdinand Marcos. And when he finds out that I grew up in the Philippines, he tells me how much he loves Lea Salonga, the Tony-winning Filipino Broadway star who appears in the production.

We ask Bailey if he’s familiar with her. “Do I know Lea Salonga?” he asks. “She was Fantine!” he retorts, referring to her role in Les Misérables in Concert: The 25th Anniversary.

From there, we fall into a Filipino diva rabbit hole, talking about former Pussycat Doll Nicole Scherzinger (currently appearing in a well-received West End production of Sunset Boulevard that Bomer tells Bailey they must catch together), Mutya Buena of the Sugababes (an iconic U.K. girl group that Bailey and I separately saw live recently), and Darren Criss (who Bomer directed on The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story—technically a straight male, but one who earns diva status for his formidable vocals and the dance he did in a red speedo on Versace).

As we near the pub, a thirty-something woman walking hand in hand with her man does a hilariously convincing impression of the Distracted Boyfriend meme at the sight of Neal Caffrey and Anthony Bridgerton casually strolling through West 4th Street.

“Her neck!” Bailey says, audibly concerned.

In Corner Bistro, with sandwiches and coffees in hand (Bailey decides on a classic burger and a grilled chicken sandwich), we settle down in a cozy booth and talk about the points in their careers where Fellow Travelers found the actors, the hard-won representation Hollywood’s queer community has been fighting for for decades, and the LGBTQ+ talents of color they’d like to support on their own projects.

Bomer, of course, has been famous since the early 2010s, when he became a star on the series White Collar, and along with Neil Patrick Harris, proved that openly gay actors could become leading men. Since then, he’s conquered Broadway (The Boys in the Band), won a slew of awards (Golden Globe and Critic's Choice trophies for The Normal Heart) and become a producer and director.

In the past, Bomer has discussed the way doors closed on him even as he was being celebrated for being an out gay actor. When asked about that now, he says, “I choose just to never look back in anger about anything. Ultimately, my career is a lot richer because I decided to be open with who I am.”

“It’s a wave of progress that Matt's been surfing and is at the front of,” says Bailey. “And it's been a real honor to be able to get on my boogie board next to him.”

Before he became a global star mid-pandemic playing the grumpy, furry-chested Anthony Bridgerton on the Netflix juggernaut Bridgerton, Bailey was an award-winning actor in both the West End and British television. Huge fame didn’t find Bailey until his early 30s, so when it did, he had a clear idea of what he wanted to accomplish with his platform.

“I feel the responsibility immeasurably,” Bailey says. “I get it when people are saying you create a chair and bring people [to the table].” He talks about the connection between the civil rights movement and the queer liberation. “The Black queens are the ones who really started to fight,” he says. “It's amazing to feel politically activated. And if there's any project to do that, it's going to be Fellow Travelers. It will change the way I see myself in and the world I live in.”

The intersectionality makes the story Travelers is trying to tell even richer—most of all in Alladin’s scene-stealing portrayal of the conflicted Marcus Hooks, a pioneering Black journalist who pushes against segregation as he grapples with his own sexuality. “When I look at older men today, I'm like, You guys have endured so much,” Aladdin says. “From the Second World War all the way through to the AIDS crisis, it was nonstop life crisis after life crisis. To have been able to survive through all that, there needs to be a real, solid weight on the feet of [these characters].”

Part of the pleasure of watching Fellow Travelers is picking up on the cinematic references hidden in each scene. Hawk and Tim’s first interactions evoke the forbidden affair in David Lean’s 1945 classic Brief Encounter. When Hawk’s family settles in suburbia, the show evokes the Technicolor repression of the great Douglas Sirk melodramas. When Hawk and Tim run through the beaches of Fire Island in the ‘70s, that iconic image of Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr kissing on the beach in From Here to Eternity may flicker in your mind. And in some ways, the series plays like a gayer, hornier The Way We Were—an epic love story tossed on the tides of political change. (In this version, of course, the Barbra Streisand character is an eager foot-licking sub and Redford’s Hubbell Gardiner is a daddy with a pit fetish.) Fellow Travelers allows us to imagine an alternate timeline where queer love has always gotten as much screen time as cinema’s great heterosexual romances, giving other kinds of stories the chance at celluloid immortality too.

In the book, Hawk is described as being more handsome than Gregory Peck. But seeing Bomer in period-appropriate clothing, the Old Hollywood leading man I thought of was Montgomery Clift, the talented and ultimately tragic gay actor who starred in classics like Red River and A Place in the Sun. For a time in the mid 2010s, Bomer was attached to star in a Montgomery Clift biopic for HBO, to be directed by the great gay director Ira Sachs. “Ira is a genius,” Bomer says. “[But] I think that ship may have sailed.”

Still, when I press him about doing it in the future, he lights up. “You know, I’m [now] the same age Monty was when he passed away,” Bomer says. “I always thought it'd be really interesting to do a play about the last night of his life, when he's watching one of his old movies on TV. And he had this man who lived with him and took care of him for the last chapter of his life.There's an interesting play in there somewhere…. Maybe Liz Taylor swings by.”

What’s changed since the mid 2010s is that a lot of Hollywood’s current gatekeepers are queer people who were fighting from the bottom a decade ago. “It's the people, the gatekeepers who are now going, ‘We are going to make this [queer] story,’” Bailey says. “This narrative that gay people have to be closeted in order [for a project] to be commercial and in order for things to be interesting to people—it's been dismantled. But it's slow because it's not just straight people who think that—I think everyone believed that in the system of Hollywood.”

Nyswaner, who has been working in Hollywood since the early ‘80s, has seen that shift up close. “When I grew up in the ‘60s and early ‘70s, I never heard the word ‘homosexual’ spoken aloud,” he says. “There was no conversation that I ever had with anybody about homosexuality. It was not just bad, it was the unspeakable thing—that's how terrified people were of us.”

And while he agrees that, in some ways, it feels like the LGBTQ+ community is once again losing ground on some rights, Nyswaner refuses to accept that there hasn’t been change. “Sometimes I hear people say, ‘Well, we haven't gotten anywhere.’ And I'm here to say, ‘Oh, yes, we have.’ Because actually you can turn on the television and find gay characters.”

Fellow Travelers is the culmination of a dream for a number of the men involved in the series.

“When I met Ron, he was talking about how he thinks about this as his lifelong legacy project,” Bailey says. “And I just said to him, ‘Whoever ends up going on this journey with you, I think it'll be the same [for them] probably.’”

“In some ways, Fellow Travelers is a span of my life,” Ron Nyswaner says. “I was an infant in the McCarthy era. And then I came out of the closet in 1978 and just danced and did cocaine and had multiple sexual partners—we didn't know what was coming, which was the AIDS crisis.” Nyswaner was nominated for a Best Original Screenplay Oscar in 1993 for Philadelphia, the landmark drama about an AIDS patient who sues his employers for AIDS discrimination. In a way, the historical span of Fellow Travelers gives the battles fought in Philadelphia their context.

Rogers remembers being a closeted soccer player in the late 2000s, watching Tom Ford’s A Single Man and hoping one day to be able to find love and take control of his own narrative. And Bailey recalls, post-Bridgerton, realizing that he could suddenly write his own destiny and vowing to seek out “a sweeping gay love story.”

Bomer, meanwhile, says—laughing, but seemingly dead serious—that it’s his goal to play a queer character from every decade of the 20th century. “A queer Decalogue,” he says, referencing the Krzysztof Kieślowski classic.

Bomer’s next project might just help him do that. He’s currently producing a Steven Soderbergh film on Lawrence v. Texas, the case that overturned the sodomy laws in Texas in 2003 but started in the 90s.

There are many more stories to tell. And as our interview winds down, Bomer and Bailey start spitballing dream projects.

We talk about All of Us Strangers director Andrew Haigh, who’s revered for his portraits of gay intimacy. “Andrew Haigh has been a special filmmaker for years,” Bailey says. “I think [his film] Weekend informed actually how I approached the sex scenes in [Fellow Travelers].”

“I’d love to play Jessica Fletcher's queer grandson who moves back to Cabot Cove,” Bomer says, referencing Angela Lansbury’s iconic role in Murder, She Wrote. “He's inherited her house and he finds an old journal in her library, and it's a case she never saw and he takes up her mantle.”

And moments before the restaurant speakers suddenly start blaring George Michael’s “Freedom ’90,” Bailey comes in with a killer pitch: “I’m obsessed with the Sacred Band of Thebes, an army of 300 gay lovers in [ancient] Greece. They partnered in pairs, this gay army, and they overthrew a Spartan army… I want to do that as a comedy.”

“Oh hell yes!” Bomer says.

“Just get all the queer actors together,” Bailey says, laughing.

“Lee Pace, everyone,” Bomer says.

“Where would we film it?” Bailey asks.

“Mykonos?” Bomer suggests.

“Flaming Saddles, down the road,” Bailey counters with a chuckle, referring to a gay bar in midtown.

“Oil us up and let’s go!” Bomer says.

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#fellow travelers #jonathan bailey #matt bomer #jelani alladin #ron nyswaner #interviews #interviews:2023 #GQ hype interview 2023 #NEW!

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letshavedeernnertogether · 1 month

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We'll meet again

the plot is: (Y/n) started a new life, but every day she feels more and more lonely.

tw: a short episode with being attacked by a thief, Alastor is little bit out of character and he also lives through some trouble times, possibly grammar mistakes (english is not my mother-tongue.) I guess that's all. Well, maybe a little bit angst but there will be a happy ending (if I may call it like this)

I'm sorry it took so long, I had another busy week at university. I guess fics will appear once every in seven to ten days

The part three, by your side

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

(Y/n) had been living in New Orleans for three years already. She liked this city very much. It captivated her with its charm and picturesque streets.

She had a job that didn't bring her much earnings, but brought her a lot of joy. She made the podcasts about literature. (Y/n) usually told about classics but she loved the most to tell about the older books, that were not popular in modern world. She liked to popularize the unknown, yet interesting books, because their influence was as strong as the influence of more popular stories.

From the money that was her dowry she bought a house. It located outskirts and stood alone near a forest, so (Y/n) felt herself like she was at home, but nobody demanded anything of her now. She also liked this house being near the forest, because it was very important to her to be close to nature. She did her strolls under the majestic branchy trees almost everyday and couldn't hide a smile when she understood how many deer lived in this area.

People said that this house once belonged to a famous radio host who was also a serial killer, whose crimes were discovered only after his death. He buried a body in the forest and a hunter mistook him for a deer and shot him.

(Y/n) softly smiled when she first heard this story. It was just a hearsay, a very old story, but (Y/n) liked the thought that she lived in the house of her devil.

When (Y/n) moved in her new house, the neighbours knew about it only after a week. Her nearest neighbours, a married couple with already grown-up children, who lived in fifteen minutes walk, came to her to congratulate with the new home. (Y/n) gave them a welcome, not too warm, and never let anyone in again.

She got a reputation of an unsociable and reserved lady very quickly. Nobody knew where she was from. Her speech was strange. She had a strange accent and knew many languages, but she didn't speak any of them as it was her native. She seemed out of this world. She usually appeared on the streets early in the morning or in the late evening. She wore long dresses, a long pearl beads like in 20's and a black veil, covering the upper part of her face.

She didn't have much aquaintences, didn't have friends. Sometimes she went to the city to the meetings to discuss some business, connected with her podcast. Rarely (Y/n) invited somebody in her place. It was only women. But she never let them to cross the threshold. (Y/n) and her guests sat in the garden in the backyard and chated about something.

(Y/n) liked her life in New Orleans. She didn't feel alone, didn't feel any pressure of her family. She felt absolutely free and safe.

The one thing that didn't leave her mind was he.

She missed him every day.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Once in the late evening she was on her way home from the studio. She recorded an excellent podcast! She was sure, it wouldn't be popular, but it wasn't the main thing. She did her job because she liked it. All she had to do is to read, to write scenarios, to talk about her favorite topics and then she just had to apply the necessary effects and cut out what didn’t sound very good. That day she talked about a German novel from neinteenth century.

"Salutations, my dear hearers! Today I will tell you about the miraculous story of Peter Schlemihl. The man without his shadow... Hahaha! Oh, my! whenever I read this story I can't stop laughing! I'm very sorry for Peter and for his solitude, of course, but don't you think that he could benefit from his position? I mean, he had no shadow, so what?! People should be afraid of him, but instead of it, he was afraid of them! I find it quiet pathetic..."

"Moreover he had the devil's help by his side. But he failed to benefit from the deal. He chose money, another stupid decision of him. I would choose something more potent, what I could you use both on earth and in hell."

"Well, I shouldn't to tell you everything at once, when you probably haven't even read this book. So, let me to discuss the author's life with you, it was no less entertaining."

She enjoyed that day. She was walking along the road on the grass and thought about devils, shadows, contracts...

(Y/n) thought about Alastor. About his voice, which she hadn't heard for three years already; she thought about his smile, words, touches, protection.

His protection.

"What on earth does "choose wisely" means?" (Y/n) muttered, "Won't I stop trusting anyone the moment they attack me? Well, let's imagine. I did trust somebody, and allow them to be too close to me, but the moment they, for example, raise a knife over me, they wouldn't be the ones I trust anymore, would they? But why then does this point exist at all?"

(Y/n) didn't know that the answer was on her way.

She heard steps behind her and turned back. She saw a silhouette. It was in several meters behind her, quickly steping forward. (Y/n) saw that this person had a gored skirt and a leather coat.

"Only a woman," (Y/n) thought and breathed a sight of relief.

She turned around and continued her way, trying to remember what she was thinking about.

She walked without thoughts for some time. The night air was chill, and she breathed it with pleasure.

Suddenly the steps behind her became louder, and, before (Y/n) could thought anything, she felt that something squeezed her neck. Something thin cut into her skin. She began to suffocate. (Y/n) tried to remove that thing from her neck, but it was too tight. She heard the woman's voice behind her, "Hush, everything will be alright, I won't hurt you." (Y/n) felt that she was losing consciousness. Her eyes rolled up and legs gave way.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

As she opened her eyes, she felt a strong headache. With a weak moan she sat. She felt dizzy, but cool and wet morning air made her feel better. It was dawning. The sky was grey. A light fog surrounded her. The crows croaked in the woods. It was still dark but just in several minutes the sun would rise. How long had she been lying on the road? She touched her neck and saw little blood stains on her fingertips.

That woman... What did she do?

(Y/n) checked her bag and understood that that woman robbed her.

So what did that mean? It meant that (Y/n) relaxed when she saw, that she was stalked by a woman. (Y/n) never thought that any woman could rob the other one. She sighed deeply, stood up and slowly headed for her home. Her knees were shaking.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

She looked in the mirror. Pale face, dirty hair, a red line on her neck. It looked like (Y/n) was beheaded and then put her head on the place again.

She took a bath, treated the wound, changed her clothes. She was depressed and didn't want to think about anything.

In silence she moved to the desk where she worked. The best way no to think about anything is working. So now she was going to edit her last podcast.

When she heard her own voice, deriding the shadowless man, she couldn't help watch at her shadow. It was deeply black as usual, so black that it could be seen even in the darkness of the night. Just like on the road last night. Did that woman noticed the anomaly? (Y/n) didn't know, but even if so, the woman didn't run away in fear, she made her to lose consciousness and robbed her. The woman didn't care about who or what was (Y/n), the woman only wanted to get what she desired.

So maybe she wasn't the only one like that? Other people, desired something and saw no obstacles, they also did not care about essence of her and her shadow.

That meant that if (Y/n) wanted to be never harmed, she couldn't trust anyone.

She looked at her shadow again. At his shadow. She craved for seeing him again. It was so long.

She stood up, brought a candlestick from the living-room and matches from the kitchen and headed for a corridor at the far end of the house.

This corridor was the longest in the house and it was dead-ended. If the killer from the past had kept his victims in this house, and if they had tried to escape, they would probably have been caught in this hallway.

When (Y/n) moved to the house, she did some minor renovations: changed the wallpaper, updated the furniture that was too old and falling apart. She left the paintings, photos even and hunting trophies. A lot of antlers were hanging on the walls in this long and broad corridor.

She stopped in front of the dead-ended wall. It was also the darkest place in the house, as it had no windows. The only source of light were the candles in the sconce. She placed the candlestick on the floor and sat between it and the wall back to the candles, so a big black shadow fell on the yellow wallpaper.

She was waiting. Just give him time and he'll come.

Slowly the shadow grew bigger. Antlers grew on its head big as the branches of a tree. Its shoulders became sharper and its neck lengthened. An old radio, which she thought was no longer working, suddenly turned on. A soft white noise filled the hallway. She didn't move when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"I apologize, my dear, but I cannot be by your side right now," He said very quietly, she barely heard him because of the crackling. She didn't say anything.

"I have some business... that I must complete." He said it, drowning in the white noise more. She knew it meant that he was exasperated.

"Are you in hell now?" (Y/n) asked without taking eyes from the macabre shadow.

"I am, dear." His voice became softer. "We met in wrong time, mon cher..." Quiet calmy crackle. "I wish we could meet more often."

"I was attacked." (Y/n) said as soon as he finished his sentence. Not because she didn't want to listen to him. The point was her eyes we're filling with tears as she heard his tender whispering. She didn't want to cry if he couldn't wipe of her tears away.

The corridor filled with a nervous crackling. It took long enough for him to answer.

"And how could it happened? Don't you trust anyone?"

"It was a woman," She answered, as it could explain anything.

"Ah, now I see."

Somnolent noise filled the air again. She noticed how strange he was this time. He usually knew what to say and never kept silence for too long.

"Tell me, how are you, dear?"

"I'm fine."

She couldn't take this suffocating atmosphere anymore. Suddenly she wanted to scream his name, to cry, to crash the radio, where he was hiding. She felt hate and despair, love and hope.

The shadow moved, as if the candles' flame was disturbed by somebody's inaccurate movement. The white noise almost disappeared, and she felt somebody's presence behind.

She was still sitting on the floor and saw two shadows on the yellow wall. Her usual, yet too black, shadow and his one, with deer ears, little cute antlers and a cane in the hand. His shadow leaned over her and she felt his breath on her cheek and then her neck.

"It won't work that way," he whispered, looking at the red line, crossing her neck. "Are you sure, you don't want to rewrite the contract?" She heard a smile in his words.

"I assure you that it will not happen again. No one can even come close to me."

"I see," (Y/n) could feel like his words touching her skin. She was glad, she was sitting on the floor, otherwise she could fall because her knees were too weak.

Their shadows blended in one.

His wet lips gently touched her wound. She felt his sharp fangs on her skin. (Y/n) didn't want to move away, she wanted to press herself to his mouth. Alastor raised his head higher, leaving a trace of hot breath on her cold skin, and left a kiss on the crown of her head.

She saw Alator's shadow bent in the waist and his head touching hers, when he left the gentle quick kiss.

He straightened up.

"Remember your words, dear. I don't want to see any wounds on you, unless I gave them," He chuckled. "Until we meet again, dear."

The sound of his footsteps faded away until another radio crackle was heard. It spilled over into an old song, repeating his last words.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Since that day (Y/n) became more isolated. She stopped to invite anybody even in her garden. Her reputation of an uncommunicative woman became stronger. She only read books, recorded podcasts and made her forest strolls, which became more frequent.

(Y/n) didn't feel lonely.

Since last meeting of her and Alastor, the shadow became more independent. When (Y/n) was alone, the shadow could change its form, it smiled and grimaced. Sometimes it could even take a physical form. Then (Y/n) could even touch it.

Slowly the shadow turned into something more than a dark figure underfoot. It became her friend.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

Several years had passed. (Y/n) had fame and yet she still was the biggest mystery for her listeners and residents. But she had tired of her loneliness. She didn't want to accept that she could feel lack of intimacy. All this years she ignored that feeling, but every day it became stronger. It was eating her alive. The shadow was friend, indeed, it protected her and saved in time of need, from both men and women. People dissapered and nobody could find any trace of them. It brought (Y/n) joy at first, but with time she tired of suspicious glances and the strangers under her windows. They were so annoying...

His shadow could even touch her, it could embrace her, they even danced sometimes, but she still felt like something was missing.

It was like you watch at a home landscape and understands that something has changed, but you can't understand what. Until you notice that an old tall tree didn't touched the sky with its green leaves anymore.

She couldn't deny that she missed Alastor. Not just felt longing for him, she felt like she had missed him, as if she had lost him. This feeling grew stronger with everyday.

"I need him more then ever," (Y/n) thought. Being without him felt like a torture. The feeling of losing him scared her. Couldn't he die in the hell? She didn't want to even think about it. The pain grew stronger, when she realised that it was his home town, it was his house, it was his shadow. He was everywhere, and yet never beside her. Just a torture.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

"I WANT YOU TO FUCKING COME!" She screamed at the top oh her voice; so load that her throat hurt. She suffocated with sobbing. She felt so furious. (Y/n) had cast the spell for three times already, but he hadn't come.

She needed him, she wanted him; why was he ignoring her call?

She hated him that moment and hated herself. He promised to come whenever she wanted him, but he had been ignoring her for all these years.

"ALASTOR!"

Suddenly a flash of bright green light filled the room. Shadow tentacles were moving in the the fog. In this explosion (Y/n) saw his figure. Alastor was down on all fours, as if he was suffocating from pain. When the green fog disappeared (Y/n) noticed that his eyes were coloured in black. He glanced at her from under his forehead, and his eyes changed into their usual crimson colour. His red hair stood on end, his teeth were sharper than usual, the tails of his frock coat were tore. All his appearance told (Y/n) that something had happened with him. She had never seen him... so weak.

He looked away and stood up. The macabre lights and shadows disappeared. He looked normally now. Alastor stood opposite (Y/n) with his shoulders wide and with a self-satisfied smile.

"Verily, my dear, your command is much stronger then powers of overlords of hell."

She stood silently. He had come. Tears of rage ran down her face.

"Why, my dear!" Alastor exclaimed in surprise, "What has happened?" He made a step forward her and leaned over, "Why are you crying?"

She looked at him with her eyes burning with anger, "Why? Why?! You're asking me why?!"

Alastor didn't expect such fit of anger. He drew himself up and let her to continue. As she screamed, she gesticulated wildly, pulled her hair and looked at him like mad.

She didn't care who she was yelling at. She was devilishly angry and wanted to let all her anger out. He didn't stop her, letting her to vent all the emotions, even if he found it extremely senseless.

"I've been crying for you for..! for four years! I tried to summon you for numerous times! And you never showed up! Tell me, is the hell so far, that you can't even hear my screams, my cries, my prayers to you?!"

Her fury almost frightened him, and he thought what a powerful overlord could she be. Even a human she was frightful. She knew black magic, she didn't care for people's lives, she loved only herself and her power. But her words made him to feel pain I'm his chest. She was so deeply hurt. He was the cause of the pain, and for the first time in his life, he didn't like it.

She stopped screaming. She breathed more heavily and looked at him with teaful eyes. Pain in his chest became stronger.

Alastor said, pressing his hand to the chest, "I am ever so sorry, my dear. I apologize. There are some forces... That I can't resist."

(Y/n) was silence for several minutes. He couldn't understand what was on her mind. And then she said the thing Alastor didn't expect to hear, "I forgive you."

These words hit him. She said it so seriously, with clear eyes. He always tried to act like a gentleman, as his mother though him, but when he apologized, he always felt superior to others. He looked up on others with a wide smile. He found it funny, how he could to say "magic words" and then people or demons actually could take their armour off. But was he like that towards her? She was hurt by him indeed and yet she forgave him. Alastor understood that he needed her to forgive him, and that he apologized with all his heart. He felt sorry that they hadn't seen for so long. He missed (Y/n). And he was also glad that she summoned him in the moment, when he was in a quiet unpleasant situation. So, he was assuredly sincere.

But still he was amazed.

She looked at him, already calmed down. Alastor stared at her in wonder.

"We all have some... Difficult things to do sometimes, don't we?"

"Yes, indeed, dear."

(Y/n) looked at grandfather clock and asked Alastor, "And I suppose we don't have so much time, do we?"

He looked at the time too. If he weren't in the state he was now, they would have a lot more time.

"I'm afraid you're right, dear."

"How long?" She still looked at the clock.

"Until the dawn, I believe," He said quietly, coming closer to her.

"Only six hours," Murmured (Y/n) and turned to Alastor so quickly, he stopped in wonder, "Then you will do everything I ask."

"And I ask you now," She continued, because Alastor was silent, "to stay with me for this night, and you won't disappear or go away."

"If you wish, my dear."

(Y/n) took a candlestick from a commode.

"Follow me," She said.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Alastor followed her through the dark corridors lightend only by the candles in her hand. The walls were lined with woods, the furniture was old-fashioned, some floorboards creaked underfoot. He couldn't take his eyes off every object that arose in the dim candlelight, when they passed by. Alastor knew, if (Y/n) weren't here with her light he still would have found the way to the bedroom where they headed for. Everything was very familiar. His heart was aching.

"My dear, tell me, is this house- "

"Your house?" She interrupted him, not turning back, "Yes, it is."

Alastor heard smile in her words.

"Honestly, I didn't know it was yours when I bought it. Well, I was told that a serial killer lived here, but I thought it was just a commercial. But I understood that it was true, when I realised how hard it was to get it. After all, I had enough money to buy anything I wanted to."

"So they remember me?"

"Of course they do!"

Alastor was pleasantly surprised. He was an unknown serial killer and a famous radio host when he was alive. He liked his double life, but he liked more when people were afraid of him. And he was a little sorry, that no one knew about his crimes, when he was alive. And when (Y/n) told him the legends about him, how children frightened each other with stories of his deeds, Alastor was glad.

They came up to the bedroom door. (Y/n) stopped and asked Alastor to wait outside the door until she changed her clothes. As she disappeared behind the door, her shadow slipped under the door, mergering with his one. He tipped his head, looking at it.

In the bedroom (Y/n) changed her dress to a cotton nightgown in nineteenth century style. She turned on the lamps on the night tables and saw her shadow. It was her own shadow. Pale, dim, so abnormal. (Y/n) thought how defective looked her shadow without deep black colour of him.

She hastened to the door and let Alastor in. As he entered, the shadow backed to her. She breathed a sight of relief, but she thought about her addiction to the power and him.

She slowly came up to a big bed and lay under the blanket. The demon stood still in front of the bed. It wasn't his mother's bed, that once stood hear in this room. Some thoughts from his past filled his mind.

"Com here," He heard (Y/n)'s voice. She sat in the bed, surrounded by dark-red and white pillows. Her hair was plaited, naking her neck; she looked innocent in the nightdress, fit loosely on her body.

"Pardon?"

"I said," She said with a smile, beating each word with her palm on the mattress, "Come. Here."

He slowly came up, and sat down next to her. She glanced at him with a blink of fun in her eyes.

"Tell me," She said with a sly smile, "Do you have hooves?"

Alastor looked at her frowning but still with a smile.

"Just wondering," She smiled softly, "I just can't let you in my bed unless you take off your shoes."

She looked extremely cunning but he still saw traces of sadness in her eyes. He definitely didn't like what she invented to do, yet he took his shoes off and even his coat and lay beside her.

(Y/n) looked down on him and lay.

They looked at each other in silence in dim lightened room. She didn't realise how much she missed his crimson eyes, his wide sly smile, his funny sharpe ended nose and his deer ears. Several minutes ago she was so mad, she could kill him. Now she thought that to spend time together was much worth than any fights. (Y/n) moved closer to him and lay her head on his chest. Alastor turned on the side, so she clung closer to him. One of his hand laid under her head, other one embraced her waist. Alastor knew, her height was above average, but in his arms she still was very small.

"Do you demons ever sleep?" She wispered.

"Yes, dear, we do," He answered with a quite chuckle, "But not me, I'm afraid. Insomnia."

(Y/n) felt heat of his body. She clung even closer to get warm. Alastor's touches and breath were very hot; his breath tickled her skin; his right hand patted her head, and his left one squeezed her waist. She felt his claws gently touching her scalp and it gave shiver down her spine. The atmosphere of dark bedroom, his soft touches and quite radio crackling, his warm made her eyes close.

"I'm afraid to fall asleep." She mumbled and opened her eyes. Alastor saw her eyelashes were trembling.

"Why, my dear?"

"I want to feel you presence," She spoke very quietly, "but if I fell asleep, I wouldn't feel you anymore. And I want to spend every twinkle we have together."

(Y/n) felt his breath above her head and how he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. Then he pulled slightly back to look at her, and he saw tears in her eyes. He didn't like tears, especially when it was so much of them. With his long forefinger Alastor gently wiped her tears away.

"My dear," His voice was very low, "What is use of crying? I'm here. Wasn't that you wish?"

"It was, right, I just... Uh. Well, I missed you much and now..." She hid her head in Alastor's chest. She remembered last four years. And three years before it. The memory of her pale shadow flashed in her mind and (Y/n) shrank. It seemed like she wanted to bury herself in his rib cage. "To be honest I don't like my life. It feels like a threshold of life. Your power and protection freshed me, but I still feel like I don't belong to this world."

Alastor silently listened to her. Her breath became more intermittent, and he understood that she was crying again.

"I hate myself for being addicted to you, and yet I'm still like this. I'm so weak, so pathetic. I'm not even sure if you want my soul... It's the darkest and the coldest place in the whole Universe. It is more greedy and merciless than the Black Hole. But there is the only star in it. Just one warm star. And it burns for you. For you only, whatever you like it or not."

Alastor was impressed with her such poetic speech, but for the woman who had spent her entire life communicating only with books, this was normal, he thought.

"The only star in her soul that burns only for him," He thought. Such a lost girl. Such a lost soul. But he felt a strange longing for her. He didn't understand it and didn't like it. But he couldn't help it. Just as she couldn't stop her tears, he couldn't stop himself to touch her, to press his lips against her head, to call her "dear" putting a special meaning into the word.

She looked into his eyes and then looked down at his lips. They were the same colour as his skin — grey. She was looking there for too long, and Alastor raised an eyebrow, smiling expectantly. She leaned to him, but Alastor shown his teeth in a smile and moved a little bit back. (Y/n) smiled to him and left a kiss on his forehead. Alastor felt his cheeks pinked up.

"I'm sorry," She wispered and buried herself in his chest again. She didn't cry anymore, just lay in his arms movelsee as if she was already dead.

He was thinking. It could really be the last night they spend together. He didn't know when he would be free again. He tried to do everything that was possible, but it was still not enough to get back his freedom, to find the backdoor of that deal. But while he was here, in this house and in this room, with (Y/n) by his side, he could not to think about it.

Alastor made a decision. He made (Y/n) lie on her back and leaned over her. She opened her eyes in wonder, as he put one on his hand on her shoulder so she couldn't move. (Y/n) tried to bend her knees but touched his foot, no, his hoof. It gave her a very strange feeling, making her blushed. Alastor made the lamps to light even dimmer, and (Y/n) could see now, that his eyes radiated the red light. She opened her month to say something, but he leaned lower and kissed her. It was a long, deep kiss. His mouth was hot and wet, and she slowly closed her eyes. The metallic taste filled her mouth and she felt the touch of his tongue. She quietly moaned, and he pressed closer. His hands were searching her body; the lamps lighted up brightly and then go out again; she embraced him tight; sometimes she gently touched his ears and softly laughed, when they twitched, and he looked at her with assumed displeasure.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

After several days the newspapers told about a woman died in the forest near her house, in the house where a famous serial killer had once lived, and in the forest where the killer had died. It was after two weeks since (Y/n) and Alastor had met for the fourth time. After that night she woke up alone. She was the happiest and the saddest person in the same time. She went to the woods and didn't appear again. Some of her colleagues became worried and decided to visit her, dispite the fact tha she didn't receive anyone. The house was silent, and they checked the garden that was also empty. And then they went to the forest. They were looking for her for several hours and found her under a tree, a big and wide pine. A young deer bent over her body. It disappeared into the depths of the forest, seeing people. Her body had already begun the process of rotting. It was hard to name the cause of her death. There were only theories. People called the house where she had lived cursed. They told eerie stories about the deer in the woods. What a strange animal, they told, one man was mistook for a one and got shot, and other woman was guarded by the same animal. Residents noticed that with the death of the woman, people stopped disappearing without a trace. But none of the bodies were ever found. So New Orleans residents decided, that the famous podcast host was the murderer, and that she had a unique way of disposal of the bodies. People made up legends about a foreign woman who killed her enemies, guarded by the spirit of a last-century killer and who was friends with his shadow...

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

A new overlord appeared in the hell. A woman in a long black dress, with green wide eyes and big antlers. Nobody knew her name, and she was called The Wood Witch. The Radio Demon was especially close to her. Soon they took control over the hell. They were the most dangerous and enigmatic overlords. They never seperated from each other. Those demons who still believed in love considered them the most lovely couple. They captured the hell and nobody dared to stand in their way.

the end

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

invitation for a deernner: @noraunor

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor

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callsigndragon · 1 year

Text

Desperate times, desperate measures | Ch. 2: Till death do us part

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!writer!reader (Most of the times, she will be called Page)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: mentions of death, angst, Jake and Page fight for the first time, and the wedding-

A/N: THANK YOU ALL FOR ALL THE COMMENTS AND FEEDBACK I'M GETTING FROM Y'ALL. It's absolutely wonderful to see the amount of love i get from you guys, i love you all so much.

It's okay if you like it and all, but please... a comment is also welcomed and if you reblog it? I'll kiss you on the forehead.

Masterlist

When the lawyer leaves the room, you remember that there’s someone important that you haven’t called and who will be suffering as much as you when she knows that Anne is dead.

But so many things happened yesterday that you completely forgot to call your other best friend.

“Heeeeeeey, how’s my favorite writer doing?” Gabby says, and the background noises make you guess that she is at a Starbucks at the moment.

“Gabrielle, can you go to a quieter place?” You tell her, sitting down and bracing yourself for what’s about to happen.

“Holy shit, that serious? Okay, okay, let me go to my car.” It only takes her a few seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. “Okay, in the car already. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Luke and Anne got into a car accident yesterday, they died, and they wanted me and Jake to be Emma’s legal guardians in case something happened to them, but Jake’s work is really dangerous, and I’m ‘too young’ to be a single mother, so the only way we can get Emma’s custody is by getting married, and I can’t get married to fucking Hangman, Gabby, I can’t!” You let it all out before you even realize that you’re just rambling and rambling, and that probably Gabby hasn’t understood a thing and she’s going to freak out.

“Luke and Anne are… dead?”

“Yeah… they’re gone.”

She starts sobbing, and you want to punch yourself for the way in which you delivered the news. “Send me your location, I’ll go get you.”

“Don’t worry, Matt is here with me. I’ll go to your house.”

“I’m… I’m staying at Anne’s.” You clarify, wincing when you hear her swearing with a shaky breath.

“Of course you are, Emma needs all the stuff that’s in that house. I’ll see you in 20.”

Just wait until she finds out that you two cannot get Emma from CPS until you accept to be her legal guardians... and you can only do that when you get married.

“....And Hangman just went to get a marriage license because apparently it's faster and easier if you’re a member of the military.” You finish the story, watching how Gabs' knuckles tighten when she grabs the mug with force.

“Man, life couldn’t get more complicated even if it tried.” She sighs, wiping her face with a tissue. “How are you holding up? We all were best friends, but you’ve known her all your life, honey… And now you have to take her place, and raise her daughter.”

You nod, eyes unfocused as you drift away, remembering a conversation from a few weeks ago, in which you told Anne that you ‘envied the life she had’. A life that now was yours.

Yesterday, when you woke up, you were a single writer who had just published a new novel. You had good friends, you had a good life, a good house, a good car. It was everything you ever wanted, and you worked so damn hard to make it happen.

When you wake up tomorrow, you are going to be a married woman and a mother. You’re going to have to give up your car and your house. You’re going to have to reschedule all your promotions and the release of your new book. It’s going to take a few months before you settle down and manage to find time for yourself and time to write again.

How much can a life change in one day, huh.

“With a man I hate. This feels like shitty fanfiction written by a teenager.” You scoff, letting your head hit the back of the sofa while you close your eyes.

“Honey, you started with shitty fanfiction written as a teenager.” Gabby says, making you chuckle.

“I hope that nobody ever finds them.”

The main door opens, and you see Jake, followed by all the members of his squad. “Hey, Gabby.” He greets your friend.

Gabby only answers with a nod, turning her head towards the rest of the aviators, noticing that Nat is between them. Gabby may or may not have a tiny crush on her. But she knows that this is not the time to be a teenager with a crush.

“You got the license?” You ask Jake when he sits next to you, taking a deep breath and nodding.

“Yeah, it was easy. I called the squad to act as witnesses; I thought Gabby was in Texas working on her next movie.”

“We’re switching locations, and they gave me a few days off. I have to call them and let them know that I have to attend a service.” She grabs her phone and goes to the kitchen, probably to call her agent.

Sometimes you forget that you met Gabby a few years ago, when one of your first books was turned into a movie, and you went to the studio every day to help Anne, who was the director. Gabby was cast as the main actress, and soon the three of you turned into the bestest friends.

Gabby and Anne were always ready to listen to your craziest ideas and plots for upcoming books, even if that meant staying up until 3 AM and chatting on a video call. Anne used to prepare her pitches with you and Gabby, so it was perfect whenever she had to meet the producers or studio executives. Gabby prepared her scripts with you two, getting ready for her next audition.

It was the perfect team. You wrote. Gabby performed. Anne directed.

The three of you were preparing to work together soon, as you had written your first screenplay not long ago. Anne insisted on you giving it a try, because your books ‘felt like movies most of the time, so it’s not that different’. And you did, finding that it was funny and really entertaining. Auditions are being made at the moment, and the only thing you know is that Gabby was the hilarious best friend of the main character.

It made you sad, though. The amount of times she had performed that role over the years... And even after she won not only a Grammy but was nominated for another one! Why is she still getting these roles? Gabby said that, in this film, she felt more connected to that character than to the main one, so she was not mad about it.

But you’re getting tired of Hollywood’s hypocrite ass. They always talk about inclusivity and giving more opportunities to other actors, but you don’t usually see a black actress in the main role of a big movie. That’s Hollywood for you.

“I guess we’re going to the courthouse now.” You question, observing as all the members of the squad, some of whom you can consider friends but others whom you don’t know as well, are standing in their dress uniforms.

“In a bit.” Jake clears his throat. “Look, we only have to pretend until the caseworker approves us. Then it’s all over.”

“Oh, so you want me to get a divorce as soon as we get a seal of approval?” You retort, turning your body in his direction.

“What, you want to be my wife?” He scoffs, looking at Javy, who is shaking his head, as if he was telling him to stop with the jokes.

Jake should listen to Javy sometimes.

“I’m a public figure, Jake. Once I get married, everybody will know! And if I get a divorce in three months, right after CPS gives us their blessing, people will know too!”

“What do you mean? Do I have to play the doting husband for the rest of my life?” He raises his voice, and you can see from the corner of your eye how Rooster takes a step in your direction, but Bob and Payback stop him.

“This was your idea, Jake. Don’t yell at me.”

“Then tell me, what was I supposed to do? Let a bunch of strangers take my goddaughter away?” You can see the unshed tears in his bloodshot eyes. He had been crying, too. Probably even more than you and Gabby.

There’s a different level of connection between people who risk their lives together. It’s unsimilar to everything you've seen. The stronger the connection, the bigger the loss.

“I think that you took the only option we had. But we’re gonna have to fake being in a marriage for longer than you initially thought.” You get up from the sofa, moving to the kitchen, only pausing midway when he asks his next question.

“How long?”

How long? Well, that’s a good question. Long enough for them not to suspect. Long enough so they forget about you two.

How long is that?

“A year.” You proclaim, feeling as if your words echo all over the house.

“Do you have any cute dresses in your suitcase?” Gabby says, rummaging through the small suitcase you packed for the three days you were supposed to stay away from the city.

“No, I don’t have anything appropriate for a fake wedding.” You groan, sitting on the bed.

“Maybe we can go buy something before we get to the courthouse?”

“I don’t think we have time for that, Gabs.”

A soft knock on the door makes you tear your gaze away from your friend, waiting for the newcomer. Nat’s head pops up from the other side, eyes closed. “Are you girls visible?”

“Yeah, we’re trying to find a dress.” Gabby says, checking her reflection in the mirror before Nat opens her eyes.

Rolling your eyes, you see that the pilot has a bag in her hands. “What’s that?”

“On my way here,” Nat starts, walking into the room and handing you the bag. “I thought that maybe you didn’t have anything to wear. So I bought you this.”

You get the dress out of the bag. It has a vintage air to it, and it’s white. The skirt stops over the ankles. It’s the kind of wedding dress that was used for civil weddings. Just like yours.

“It’s beautiful, Nat. Thank you. You didn’t have to.” You hug her, trying to understand how a beautiful soul like hers is friends with Jake.

“Me and Bob will take you to the courthouse. Take as much time as you need.” She nods in Gabby’s direction and leaves the room.

You start crying as soon as you realize that your best friend will not be attending your wedding.

The ceremony isn’t long, and you’re grateful for that. Because you’re not sure how much time you can hold Jake’s hands on yours, while faking to be madly in love. Jake plays the part like a champ, even telling the officiant that he didn’t want to rush this wedding, but he’s going to be deployed soon and wants to marry the love of his life before he has to leave for a few months.

It takes all your strength not to take off your high-heels and throw them at his head. But the shoes are Anne’s, and you don’t want to damage them. It’s something borrowed. The sapphire earrings are an heirloom given to you by your grandma. It’s something old, and something blue. And the dress, bought for you by Nat, is something new.

You didn’t care about these small traditions because this wedding wasn’t real, but if you’re going to be married to this idiot for a year, at least you’re going to do it right.

“The future promises many happy days ahead,” says the officiant, making you take a deep breath to avoid laughing at his face. No, there are no happy days ahead for you. “filled with unique opportunities, adventures, and challenges. It is through trust, love, and the unfailing support of each other that you will meet these inevitable ups and downs.”

You and Jake look at each other, feeling the weight of the words on your shoulders. There will be adventures and challenges, and as much as you hate to admit it, the only way you are going to survive this year, is by supporting each other.

“Do you, Jacob Seresin, take Y/n L/n to be your spouse and to live together as partners, to treat them her love and respect, and to build a marriage that grows stronger and more loving as time passes?”

Jake doesn’t even blink when he answers. “Yes, I do.”

“And do you, Y/n L/n, take Jacob Seresin to be your spouse and to live together as partners, to treat him with love and respect, and to build a marriage that grows stronger and more loving as time passes?” The officiant repeats the same words, but they don’t feel as the ones he said to Jake. They feel heavy. Like a doom.

“Yes, I do.”

“The wedding ring represents the promises and potential of marriage. It has no beginning and no end, and is a timeless symbol of the love and commitment you have pledged. As you wear your ring, let it remind you of the love you feel here today.”

Love. The only thing that you don’t feel towards your soon-to-be husband.

“Jacob, place the ring on Y/n’s finger and repeat after me.”

Javy gives Jake the ring, that is soon placed on your finger. It’s cold. A coldness that burns your skin.

I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and devotion, as we join our lives together, today, tomorrow, and for as long as our love shall last.

Those are the words that Jake and you have to repeat, each of them damaging your soul and leaving behind small crecives that you hope time can heal.

The officiant’s next words make you cry, but he believes that you’re just an ‘emotional bride’.

True marriage is more than just a ceremony or a piece of paper – it is a lasting bond that joins two lives and two hearts.

You don’t want him near your heart.

Marriage is love.

You don’t love him.

Companionship.

He will spend most of his time away.

Trust.

You don’t trust him.

And Respect.

The only thing you respect is his job and his dedication to Emma.

May you always find strength in each other, laugh with each other, and find safety and comfort in each other’s words and company.

What strength? What laugh?

May you celebrate many joyful seasons together, support each other when days are difficult, and continue to learn and grow closer together with each passing year.

Only four seasons with him. Nothing more.

“You may kiss!”

And when he kisses you, Jake doesn’t know if the saltiness in his lips is because of his tears or yours.

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stansupremacy · 3 years

Text

SURPRISE — CHRIS EVANS X READER ONE SHOT FLUFF

[NOTE] English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes. Very excited to share this story with you, I originally posted it on wattpad, but it was really frustrating to note that it didn't seem to attract attention. Let's not focus on that, but on the now, new beginnings in Tumbrl (I still don't know how works lmao)

Traveling the world with a six-month-old was not an easy job, but you took the risk.

Chris was turning 40, you flatly refused to spend that special day away from him.

They were both actors, so their schedules were always very tight. Unfortunately, the idea of the surprise party with the whole family in Boston had been completely scrapped because Chris was filming in France for his next project and you were in Canada giving a press conference promoting your new movie.

The chances of celebrating her birthday together had been reduced to zero, worse you being the stubborn woman you are, you did not give your arm to twist. So after several fights with your representative and several scolding from your personal assistant for having disorganized your entire schedule. You had managed to escape for seven days, so that you and your daughter could surprise her father on her birthday.

You knew there was no better gift than to take Luna to her father, it had been a few long weeks since they last saw each other. Separating from his daughter was something that destroyed Chris, it had been a very difficult decision, but being a sensitive one. Luna had to be with you, she was breastfeeding, she couldn't be away from you for long.

After two plans, more than 16 hours of travel and a lot of stress, they had reached their destination. Paris Charles de Gaulle airport. The first part of the plan was complete, without wasting time, you settled Luna in her baby carrier on your chest, she cried in protest, she wanted to keep looking around her.

"I know, I know honey ... But you have to understand, mommy can't carry you in her arms, she has to carry the luggage" you murmured kissing her little head. You took the two suitcases and without wasting time you left the airport.

Luna had started to fidget, you understood her. The journey had been long, the two of them urgently needed rest. "Honey ... It was a short time, we just have to wait for Uncle Scott to come pick up us and we can go to sleep, preferably in Daddy's arms."

You took the phone from your backpack unlocking it to enter the chat with Scott, you sent the location and put it back in your pocket, without holding on any longer, you took off your chinstrap, a sigh of satisfaction left your lips when you felt the fresh air on your expensive. You removed little Evans from the carrier baby when you noticed that she kept complaining. Her small and expressive blue eyes looked around curiously.

"Do you need a ride?" A car pulled up on the street in front of you, the driver's window opened revealing Scott's face.

"Finally!" You exclaimed, he laugh getting out of the car, his arms wrapped around you affectively I returned the gesture for a few seconds.

Luna stretched her arms as she recognized her uncle waiting to be carried. Scott did not doubt it, and took her in his arms as he helped you store your bags in the trunk of the car.

You opened the back door, to throw your backpack there before entering and stretch your arms towards your daughter, who hesitating for a few seconds, accepted the change of arms.

"Sorry for the delay, your boyfriend is a pain in my ass. He asked me a thousand questions trying to figure out where I was going" Scott commented making sure the door is closed, he walked around the car and got back on as pilot, beginning to lead. "Tired?

"You have no idea" you sigh closing your eyes, a small smile adorns your lips knowing that they had achieved it, they would see Chris. "I swear that this is the only time that I cross half the world alone with a baby, next time I will bring someone to help me."

"Well, they are here, that's the important thing"

"Yeah, you're right." You answered, you look Luna who was beginning to close her eyes, it seemed that the dream was beginning to overcome her, you rock her lightly by kissing her plump cheek

[...]

Luna played entertainingly with the TV remote while you circled the hotel room, eager to see Chris.

You had to turn off your phone because he had not stopped calling and sending messages, your last message to him had been minutes before boarding, telling him that you were going to take a nap. More than 20 hours have already passed, so it was normal for him to worry, but you had decided not to answer him, it was not in your plans to ruin the surprise.

The clock said twelve o'clock at night, officially it was Chris's birthday, who should arrive at any moment.

Half an hour later, a message from Scott warning that he has already arrived at the hotel was what got you going. The suitcases were in Scott's room because if Chris came to see them he would instantly notice that they were there, you took your girl out of bed and ran to the bathroom but not before turning off all the lights.

Seconds after closing the door, the room door was heard opening. Chris's voice and Scott's laugh reached your ears.

"Don't laugh, idiot, this is serious. Y/N doesn't answer me, I think she's angry, but I don't know what I did." Scott made fun of his brother again, you smiled amused when you heard Chris's concern about the lack of messages. Luna, taking advantage of the fact that they were near the shower ledge, took a bottle of shampoo to drop it, making a great bang.

"Luna, you give away our position! You whispered indignantly, mini Evans babbling in amusement.

The door slammed open revealing a surprised Chris. Scott came in behind him, recording the reunion.

"Surprise!" You exclaimed, Luna shouted excitedly when she recognized her father. Chris wasting no time, drew them into a hug. "Luna and I decided that Daddy couldn't spend his 40th birthday away from us, right sweetheart?" The baby smiled stretching her hands to touch her father's face.

"Oh my girls, I missed you so much" Chris sighed still without letting go of the hug, he placed a kiss on Luna's forehead before turning her face and kissing you tenderly on the lips.

"Happy birthday darling, we love you very much, I hope you liked the surprise"

"I couldn't ask for a better thing" he smiled kissing your lips again.

"Don't say that, I have others that I'm sure you will love" you whispered with a mischievous glint in your eyes, Chris smirked. "We must put on day".

"For the love of God, you two are disgusting, talk about sex in front of the baby? Gross" Scott exclaimed in disgust.

Chris chuckled coming out of the bathroom with Luna on his right arm while his left was on your waist. He couldn't think of a better birthday start.

#steve rogers #chris evans x female reader #chris evans #andy barber #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut

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saeyawrites · 3 years

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You’re Important. (Elliott x Reader)

“Shoo! Get away from there!”

A crow cawed loudly, hurriedly flapping his wings in an effort to avoid being hit by stray water from your watering can. Shaking it furiously seemed to spook it into leaving your crops alone for the moment. Raising an eyebrow at the hastily constructed scarecrow guarding the vegetables, you scoffed.

“I thought that was supposed to be your job.” The hand painted face seemed to grin at you, and you wondered if some more straw and a new location would make him better at his job.

It had only been a year since you had moved to the valley and became friends with most of the adjacent Pelican Town. There was a lot of fun in your day-to-day life, but it was also a lot of hard work. However, it was definitely preferable to life in Zuzu City; revving engines, construction, and the shouts of angry commuters had been replaced with the peaceful sounds of your farm.

Truthfully, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Finished with watering your crops, you gathered your bag, making sure the amethyst you had gathered from the mines earlier was safely inside.

“Hello there, (Y/N).”

Elliott stood before you, a small smile gracing his face as you waved at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. The feelings that you had for the passionate writer flared up, and you hurriedly composed yourself, trying to sound normal.

“Hi, Elliott. Need another flounder?” Having delivered one to him previously, you were curious as to how it turned out, or at least manage to get the recipe he had used so you could try it for yourself.

“Not at the moment, although I do appreciate the offer.” He glanced down at your bag, your hand securely on the strap. “Going into town?”

“Yeah, Clint asked me to deliver an amethyst to Emily. It’s one of her favorite stones.” Nodding in understanding, Elliott offered you his arm.

“Then, if you’ll allow me, I’ll accompany you there.”

Nodding, you looped your arm around his, starting the long walk to town. The sun bore down on the both of you, the heat of the summer more and more apparent as you continued walking. Elliott kept his gaze forward, and you looked up at him, wondering if you should say something or continue to walk in silence.

“So, uh…” Fiddling with the bottom of your shirt, you focused on the dirt path in front of you, hoping you weren’t as awkward as you seemed.

“How was your dinner?”

“It was wonderful. I wasn’t too sure about the spices I used but it turned out to be a successful risk. Perhaps you’ll have to stay next time so you can taste it.”

He glanced over with a small smirk that made your face flush slightly and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I’d like that.”

As the words left your mouth, something cold ran through you. Anxious thoughts spewing negativity flooded your mind, whispering that you weren’t good enough and that you’d never truly belong anywhere. They reminded you that Stardew Valley wasn’t truly your home, and it might never be.

As if sensing the change in the atmosphere, Elliott stopped, turning to face you.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?”

Giving a valiant attempt to restore your earlier smile, you shrugged.

“It’s nothing! Let’s get going.”

“(Y/N), please don’t lie to me.” Elliott put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you from walking any further.

Lying to Elliott wasn’t a great feeling, so you decided to tell him what had been troubling you recently. Tears fell as you revealed your thoughts, feeling small as he listened to the insecurity that plagued you.

“There’s no need to cry…” Elliott pulled you into a gentle hug, caressing your back. Once you seemed calmer, he pulled away, wiping your tears.

“Don’t listen to those thoughts. You’re doing remarkably. All of Pelican town appreciates your hard work, and I guarantee all of them see what an amazing person you are.”

“Even you?”

Elliott smiled softly, nodding.

“Even me. You’ve helped inspire me enough to complete my novel and you are an essential part of my life. Everything from your deliveries to your random visits are important to me.”

Sniffling, you looked at him, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. The thoughts hadn’t dissipated completely, but you were feeling a little better.

“Feel better?”

After you nodded, Elliott was satisfied, although he still looked a little worried about you.

“Well, let’s continue. Best not to keep Emily waiting, right?” Agreeing, you continued walking with him, rubbing the remnants of tears out of your eyes.

“I could use a drink.”

Chuckling, Elliott grabbed your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours. Blushing, you looked at your intertwined hands, then at him, seeing he was looking at you, a charming smile plastered on his face.

“We’ll go to the tavern after you finish your delivery.”

As you finally reached the cobblestone streets that went through Pelican Town, Elliott stopped you.

“I’ll wait for you at the tavern, okay?” At your words of affirmation, he nodded. Before he left, he squeezed your hand, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“Never forget how important you are to me, (Y/N).” He turned to walk towards the tavern, sending a wink your way as you stared, finally shaking your head to clear your clouded thoughts and making your way to Emily’s house.

#stardew #stardew elliott #stardew valley #stardew x reader #elliott x reader #elliott x farmer #reader insert #imagine #stardew valley imagines #stardew imagines #saeya #saeyawrites #fanfiction #stardew valley fanfiction

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thatsgay-writes · 3 years

Note

Maybe a Korra x reader who has the powers of she ra

(Female Reader)

You were a non bender and had been friends with Korra way before you found the sword. The two of you had been friends since childhood, before Korra and her parents even knew she was the avatar. You were even there when Korra found and took in Naga. When Korra was sent to the White Lotus compound, the White Lotus had tried to end all of Korra’s friendships so she could focus on her training, but you would sneak into the compound almost every night. The guards were usually asleep half the time you snuck in, so it was never that hard to sneak past them.

You were there for Korra when she would reach new achievements, mastering water bending, fire bending, earth bending, etc. You had managed to befriend Katara, who had been the first to recognize the looks of love that you sent the avatar (reminding her of how Aang looked at her). So you didn’t have to sneak in as often the older you got and would just go with Katara instead.

You didn’t go to Republic City with Korra, which broke your best friend’s heart. But she understood why, your mother had gotten sick from an unknown disease and someone had to watch your family bakery until she got better. The two of you would send letter through out the time of separation and all was going well, until your mother passed.

---

Her death had been sudden but not surprising. You had lied to Korra that your mother was getting better when in reality, the last family member you had was slowly slipping away. Not even Katara could heal your mother. You went into a deep depression soon after your mother’s funeral and threw yourself into work. The more you worked, the less time you were alone with your thoughts, the less time you were stuck in an empty house. Slowly, but surely, your letters to Korra were blander and less frequent. Your love for her never faded, but the excitement in your life had.

Finding the sword was your saving grace. You didn’t know how much longer you could last, all the days slowly meshing together into a mess. You had gone on a walk, not something you did often because it left you alone with your thoughts. But something had been, seemingly, calling out to you, urging you to walk. When feeling the urge, you didn’t hesitate to follow it, maybe it was the spirits calling you home to be reunited with you mother.

A cave, a freaking cave... Is what you thought as you stood outside of it. By now, the snow that was falling softly had picked up and you knew you wouldn’t be able to return home until it had calmed. You walked slowly into the cave, trying to make sure there was no wild animal inside of it. As you were checking the cave, a light caught your eye. You followed it to its source, interested in what shone so bright in a cave so dark.

The sword was stabbed into the ground, vines wrapped around it. The light was coming from a bright blue crystal in the middle of the hilt. Who would leave such a beautiful sword here? You wondered as you walked closer to it, looking for traps or even a dead body. When you found nothing, you grabbed the sword and pulled it from the stones and vines. As soon as it was released, a surge of power blasted you back and into the cave wall, knocking you out.

---

You kept and studied the sword after you had woken up in the cave, sword still in hand. You told no one else of what you had witnessed or found and studied in silence, continuing to run your bakery in the day time and practice with the sword through the night. The Legend of She-ra is what the sword was, or supposed to be. You read through the book that most people called a fantasy novel and not non-fiction. You read about the adventures of the best friend squad and a world called Etheria, that was filled with princesses and magic.

You had been confused of the reason that the sword had ended up on Earth but by doing more digging, you found that over thousands of years ago your earth had been Etheria. The magic of the planet slowly effecting everyone and giving them the ability to bend. You learned about how there was light and dark magic, what Raava and Vaatu were made of. How someone named Prince Peekablue created the spirit world with the last of their magic for loved ones to wait for each other before finding eternal peace. Having used their magical powers to see beyond perception to make what they imagined a reality and how the spirit world only became stronger and visible as the magic of the spirits grew.

You read how when the last She-ra, Adora, died the sword wouldn’t work again until it was needed. You read how the sword was hidden for generations until the last of Adora’s bloodline had died out and the sword was lost to the world. Luckily, there were instructions on how to use the sword and practice with it for when it was found. You thanked the spirits that Catra, Finn, and the other authors of the book had left such important information.

---

When Korra returned to the Southern Water Tribe, you weren’t there. After greeting her parents and showing her friends were they would be staying, she ran off towards her best friend and crush’s house. She had missed you since she left the South Pole and even more when you both stopped sending letters. She had tried to get over you and date Mako but it ended almost as fast as it happened. She hoped that being back at the South Pole would rekindle your friendship and maybe even let it go beyond that if she convinced you to return to Republic City with her.

---

“Korra! Slow down!” Bolin yelled at the avatar as she ran towards your family bakery. Korra just rolled her eyes at Bolin, “C’mon, if you keep up with me, I’ll get you some food. They have the best kale cookies in the world!” Bolin’s eyes lit up at Korra’s proposal and he managed to keep up with her the rest of the way. Both of them ignoring how Mako and Asami rolled their eyes at the two’s childish behavior.

Korra reached the door to the bakery and attempted to enter, being confused when the door wouldn’t budge. “What the...?” Korra muttered as she looked through a window in the building to see that it was empty with chairs put on the tables. Bolin was sad that he wouldn’t be getting any cookies. Korra noticed someone standing across the street and ran over to ask about the bakery. “Excuse me? Excuse me!” “Huh? Oh wow your the avatar!” The kid said as Korra got their attention. “I... Um, yeah. Do you happen to know why the bakery’s closed?” The kid looked around Korra and at the building she was motioning to. “Oh, yeah. The bakery hasn’t been open for almost a month! It sucks too cause they had the best muffins.” The kid said with a frown, causing Korra to frown as well. “A month...” She mumbled to herself, what had she missed while she was away?

Korra tried your house too but you weren’t there. She let her friends go do whatever as she went to Katara to try and find you. “Katara!” Katara looks up from what she was doing and gave Korra a kind smile. “Korra, what can I help you with?” “Do you know where y/n is? Or her mom?” Korra asks hoping Katara knew and not liking it when Katara gained a frown on her face. “You mean y/n never told you? I had just assumed...” “Told me what?” Korra asks, worried at Katara’s reaction. Katara lets out a sigh before responding, “Korra... Y/n’s mother passed away. Y/n hasn’t been the same since. A lot quieter, more reserved...” Katara just trails off, not knowing what to say, while Korra feels like the air got knocked out of her. “What...” Korra says, not really asking, with tears in her eyes. Your mom had been like a second mother to her growing up and hearing that she sick was bad enough but finding out she was dead and that you were dealing with it by yourself, hurt more than she could imagine. Katara pulls the young avatar into a hug trying to comfort her. “Y/n has been gone for almost a month. She told me she would be safe before she left. She didn’t want me to worry.” Katara says, hoping to lessen the worry on Korra.

---

You had left to go to the swamp where the Bayan-grove tree was located. You wanted to go to the spirit world and learn more about magic. You knew that only air benders were supposed to be able to go to the spirit world, but with the new knowledge of magic, you hoped you would be able to as well. So you went to the place most tapped into magic. The tree had grown right over where you read the heart of Etheria was located before all the magic in it got released. You meditated and practiced with the sword everyday, wanting to master using the sword and the other things it could turn into. You hoped that going to the spirit world could connect you with Mara or Adora or anything to help you know that you were the one meant to get the sword, that you were doing what you were supposed to do with the sword, and that you were ready to use it if need be. You weren’t able to enter the spirit until Korra opened the first spirit portal.

---

You spent days in the spirits with a spirit that went by the name of Swift Wind. He was an alicorn that was the previous She-ra’s animal companion, similar to how Aang had Appa and Korra had Naga. You had inquired about when you would be able to get an animal companion but Swift said that it had to happen naturally. You didn’t know how long you had spent in the spirit world but it felt like days before you felt a sudden shift through out the spirit world. “What was that?’ You ask Swift Wind as you felt a sudden disheartening feeling. Swift Wind lifts his horn into the air and you watch as his eyes get big. “Vaatu has escaped.”

(There will be a part 2🙂)

Part 2

#lok #Legend of korra #korra x reader #lok x reader #female reader #female character #female x reader #wlw #atla #avatar the last airbender

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secondhand-trash · 4 years

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Love in the Time of Allergies

A/N: this is a concept from @redbeanteax and I’m down immediately after she told me about it lmao

Pairing: florist!Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader

Description: You were a tattoo artist who loved flowers and he was a florist who was allergic to flowers.

Word count: 6785

Playlist:

How Long?//Vampire Weekend

Pleaser//Wallows

Flowers In Your Hair//The Lumineers

If you take a turn at the first corner of the bustling shopping district, you would find yourself in the quieter, older parts of the area. If you wandered through the many narrow lanes, maybe you would get further and further away from the flagships and tall windows of the main avenue in front of the quaint little flower shop hidden away from the noisy crowd, bunches and bunches of bouquets lined up at the windows and pots hanging from the awning.

Sakusa Kiyoomi lived right above that flower shop, which he coincidentally runs.

Every morning, he woke up to the sun shining through the thin linen of his curtains. The streets were already alive by the time he was awake. The sounds of delivery vans driving past his window, the crisp bells of school children riding along the road to school on their bicycles ticking his still hazy senses. He was not a snoozing type of person by all means, immediately getting up to get his day starting the moment he paused his alarm. Then he would fold up his sheets neatly, getting them in the washing machine so he could replace it with the ones that had just finished drying the night before. Sakusa always made cleaning the first thing he does right after he wakes up, it made him feel productive and he relished in the feeling that his space was spotless at every corner.

By the time he was done, it would be time for him to go downstairs to open up the store and get ready to receive the batches of fresh flowers that were delivered every day. If he pushed open his windows, the sweet smell of flowers together with the morning air would fill his room.

A florist with a face that looked like he walked out of an ink portrait from the old times, just him standing there could be worthy as a still from any movie scene. Long, nimble fingers placing each stem right where it belong, the beauty marks above his brow moving as the man furrowed his eyes in concentration like the morning dew sliding off the white petals of a blooming flower.

A beautiful man and beautiful flowers. It would have been a breathtaking sight if you could ignore the fact that the florist was sadly, severely allergic to the flowers that he was surrounded with at every waking moment of his life.

Sakusa himself would like to argue that you could not, and should not, brush off such an important detail to his survival. Thank you very much.

How did he become a florist in the first place if he was allergic to flowers, you may ask. Well, He didn’t know. One day, he was filling in for his cousin who couldn’t attend his shift because he had dropped ill. Said cousin might have deliberately hidden up the fact that he was working at a place that sells flowers and by the time Sakusa arrived at the storefront feeling like he got struck by thunder, it was too late.

It was a pity that he was such a natural, so much so that he received a phone call from the then shop owner asking if he could come back the next day.

Sakusa still thought about that day occasionally. What had he done to himself, he looked at the sky and let out a long sigh.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was inclined to believe that he must have committed some sort of indescribable crime in his last lifetime to deserve this cruel joke from the universe.

Pulling up the latex gloves, he released the elastic band with a snap as it sit snugly on his wrist. He had his protective suit on, the white plastic covering him from his neck all the way down his legs. He had his mask and mask cover (yes, the mask needed its own cover) on before pulling his hood over and making sure that all his hair was tugged in.

Looking at the mirror, he let out a satisfied hum. Perfect, now all he needed to do was wait for the truck to arrive.

“Hello! Your delivery is here!”

The deliveryman was a new employer of the company, his uniform neatly buttoned up all the way. He checked his reflection in the window from outside the shop, reminding himself to put on a good smile when greeting the client. It was his first time going out for delivery on his own without a senior tagging along and he intended to leave a good impression.

He shifted his weight from one foot to another while waiting for someone to answer the door. He looked around the street, taking in a deep breath of the morning air. It was a rumor among employers that there was a living urban myth on this street, one that looked like it walked out of a chemical waste field in a dystopian novel was what they said. He chuckled to himself when he recalled how terrified they looked at the describe the myth. Look at the street with its sunshine and serenity, they should at least pick a more suiting location for the lie if they wanted to prank the newbie.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s alright! Please notify me after you checked if all the stock is correct,” he said with a wide smile as he turned around to where the footsteps were coming from, “mr- AH!!!!!!!”

A few blocks away, you paused when you heard an ear piercing scream from outside.

“Did you hear something?” your manager asked, looking out of the shop window with a confused look, “I swore I heard someone screaming.”

You tilted your head, looking away from the poster you were trying to hang onto the wall to follow where they were looking at. There were no panicking or people running to take cover so it didn’t seem like something major had happened. You shook our head, “Maybe it’s the sound of tires screeching?”

“Hm,” they glanced outside in wary but turned back to the empty store with a sigh, “is the backroom all set up?”

Your arms withhold in the air for a moment as you tried to see if the frame was before clasping your hands together in satisfaction before climbing off the stool you were standing on to turn and face your manager, “Yeah, I told the people to place all the chairs down as you said and all we needed to do was to unpack our tools, loaded up the shelves and we’re all done.”

“Ok, good,” they let out a heavy breath, placing their hands on both sides of their waist, “I still can’t believe the landlord of our last place can just take back the lot just like that.”

“Hey, they want to sell it to a big corp for quick bulk of cash instead of renting it out to a tattoo parlor, not that it doesn’t make sense,” you said with a click of your tongue, a loop-sided grin making its way onto your face as they chuckled at the saltiness you were not holding back at all, “at least we managed to find a new place fast.”

“Well, that’s true,” they said, “this seems like a pretty nice street.”

Other than the fact that someone screamed like they walked out of a horror movie in the morning out of nowhere, you thought to yourself but nodded no less as you two stood side by side and looking out of glass windows, trying to not think too much of it.

The fact was, you were just glad that you still had a job. It felt like the sky fell on your head when you walked into your humble little workplace one day to see the heavy expression everyone was wearing only to be told that the lease for the parlor would not be renewed next term. It wasn’t easy to just find a new place to rent so quickly nowadays and the possibility that you might go jobless for months horrified you to no end.

You liked the parlor you worked in. You had heard your fair share of horror stories of how some places mistreat their apprentices before you made the commitment of applying to become one and even though you were scared out of your mind while you asked if the place was still taking apprentices after being turned down numerous times already, it was nothing short of luck that you ended up being under a group of very nice people when you actually did succeed. You had been in this parlor for several years now, staying behind even after you got your license. You liked the homely little shop and you most definitely loved working for the owner who taught you so much so you couldn’t be more glad when they came in just a week before everything at the old place must be cleared out saying that a new lot had been secured.

You now needed to wake up a good hour earlier than before and take a bus that you were sure would take you to the other end of the town if you overslept by one station just so you could make it to work on time, but no complaints. At least the street looked nice, and there was a flower shop just a few blocks away from the parlor which you were very happy about.

You liked flowers, you had always found them to be great inspirations.

“Hello?”

A crisp ring of the bell interrupted the silence you were having while you two quietly unwrapped all the tools and whip them clean before putting them in place at the back.

“Can you go get it? I think it might be some of the other decorations being delivered over.” they said, staring at the little scratch at the back of one of the lamps with a painful expression in their eyes as they realised that it could not be rubbed away no matter how hard they tried.

You pushed away the bubble wrap that was piling up on your legs before standing up, dusting off the plastic strands before walking out to the front of the store.

“Hello- ah!”

You jumped when you saw a.. well you weren’t sure if that was a person because there was no face for you to identify but they had to be because you could not begin to process what else they might be underneath the full body plastic suit paired with what almost looked like a bee hat, standing at the front door with their arms stiffly extended and holding a flower basket in hand.

Your breath was rigid as you tried to calm yourself down, slowly getting back into a proper posture as you tried to ignore the million questions running through your head.

“Hello,” the voice sounded a bit distant from behind the mask but you could still make it out to be the voice of a young man. “I’m Sakusa from the flower shop a few blocks away.”

“Oh. Oh, oh, nice to meet you," you blurted out, giving a slight bow when you realised that you were still standing there in a daze, never feeling so confused as to when the person replied to your panicking gestures with a slight nod, “I’m (y/l/n), I’m one of the tattoo artists who work at the parlor.”

So this was the person who runs the flower shop? You tried to control yourself from making it too obvious that you were stealing glances at his more than peculiar attire for walking on the street under broad daylight. You weren’t aware that florists had to dress in bee suits.

Sakusa raised his already raised hand a little, “This is a welcoming gift for your opening.”

“Ah, thank you so much,” you said, gingerly taking a few steps forward to take the flower basket from his glove covered hands. He seemed to be relieved after you took the flowers away from him, letting out a soft sigh and relaxing his shoulders.

“If you need any help please always feel free to come over,” he said, sounding rather unnatural as he stayed where he was, maintaining a fixed distance from you.

“Of course,” you replied, standing with your back just a little straighter at the sheer tension that you were feeling under the stare of a man whose face you could not even see, “thank you for the flowers.”

He gave you another nod before walking out the door and you waited, standing there until he was completely out of your sight and let out the breath you had been holding in.

That was strange, you thought to yourself as you took a look at the basket you were holding.

Hm, the arrangement was very pretty though.

At first, you were very hesitant to even go near the radius of the glass door with flower pots hanging down. Could you be blamed? Who wouldn’t be intimidated by a person who showed up in a full body plastic suit? But eventually, your urge to find good references for your sketches gave won over your prejudice and you gathered up all your courage one day while you didn’t have any bookings and walked into the flower shop a few blocks away.

You weren’t sure if you were more bewildered or satisfied by your predictions being correct when you walked in to see him standing by the counter being covered from head to toe. Sakusa still looked as stiff as he was when he showed up at the parlor last time when he was in his own store, watering the flowers with this oddly long sprinkler.

You still felt that to be pretty strange but you were determined that no matter what, you were not walking away from that place emptyhanded.

Surprisingly, he was not as hard to approach as you had thought he might be and he was very helpful when you were overwhelmed by the many pots lining the store, pointing to the bunch of colourful daisies at the far corner when you told him you wanted something that looked delicate.

You started ordering bouquets from Sakusa’s store regularly a while later.

This did not look right. You stared at the black lines on the paper, feeling like your head was about to explode at how you could not point out what was exactly wrong with it but it simply didn’t look like the image you had in your head.

Throwing the pen down, you leaned back against the couch in the front room with an exasperated sigh as you glanced at the hand on the clock that tilted more and more as each second passed.

What happened to delivery at 3pm sharp?

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you jumped up at the sound of the door being pushed open and Sakusa walked in with a bouquet of carnation in hand. He was still covered but even without seeing his face, you could tell how he rushed over with the slight heaving in his voice, “there was a... dire situation back at the shop and I had to get that handled before I can make the delivery.

Sakusa shivered as he recalled how there was this customer who kept sneezing while walking around the store.

“It’s alright,” you said, getting up from the couch where you were laying on, “can you help me put it in the backroom?”

“Of course.”

“Just putting it here would be alright.” you gestured to the small table at the corner and he nodded before putting the ceramic pot down.

From the corner of his eyes, he spotted the last several bouquets and pots you got from him the past week lined up on the shelf at another side of the room.

Sakusa tilted his head. He had regular customers but none that showed up as often as you did and none that bought flowers for no specific reason at all other than to look at them. “Do you like flowers that much?"

He wasn’t sure what it was about the look of pure fascination in your eyes when you looked away from the colourful flowers to face him, but he felt an unexplained antsy feeling rising at the back of his neck.

“I guess it’s not so much of a sentimental liking than just admiration,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “they can be so simple but so detailed all at the same time,” you chuckled, “I find all my best works to be of floral patterns.”

You could not see his face behind the mesh net but you could guess that he was probably squinting his eyes right now with the way his body bent just a little forward. He was interesting to observe, and you had found quite a bit of entertainment in watching him.

“Here,” his eyes widened when you rolled up your sleeves with a laugh. He was wondering how you didn’t seem to have any tattoos on your unlike the other artists who he had met but it seemed like you just didn’t feel as much of a need to put them on display at all times. Under the white sleeves that now rest on your elbow, there were inked lines littering all across your arm, stopping at your wrist and he could only imagine that the vines would go further up into where the faintly see-through fabric was covering.

“This is the first tattoo I ever did on my own,” you said, tilting your arm so that he could see the sunflower on the inside of your wrist, “this is a gift to myself after I finished my apprenticeship.”

“My actual first tattoo though,” you lifted your arm up, showing him the morning glory that peaked out from under your sleeve, hanging on the vines that hugged the side of your arm, “is this one,” you had a look of nostalgia in your eyes like you were greeting an old friend, “I got it the moment I turned 18 without my parents knowing, to remind myself to be resilient like morning glories that climb high even on stone walls.”

He felt like he was invading some sort of precious intimacy that was supposed to be sealed up and savoured when you gently hooked your finger under the collar of your shirt, pulling it to the side just enough for him to see the dots of baby’s breath above your collar like tiny stars.

“But this one is my favourite. I got it because... well...” you poked your tongue out before pushing the folded collar back in place, “I just think it looks nice.”

Sakusa didn’t quite understand what the aesthetic appeal of flowers that you seemed to be so fixated on was. He worked with flowers but they weren’t anything that means much to him unless you count “mortal danger” as a special meaning. But as he watched you fix your shirt, the botanicas on your skin once again hidden from sight by the silky fabric that fell down like morning mist in the market street, he found himself sparing another glance to the flowers he just handed to you and wondered what they would become under your pencil and ink.

“Do you keep all of them around?” he asked, referring to the many different flowers that didn’t look like they go together on the shelf.

“Sometimes I’ll let clients take away the ones that I already sketched if they like it but I kinda just put them here the rest of the time,” you replied, touching one of the petals of the tulips that were sitting in a vase, “it’s quite a pity that I can’t put them in the front but the manager said it doesn’t fit the rest of the décor.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, even though it’s not like you could see him do so with the cover of the black mesh, and said something that surprised even himself once it was vocalised.

“If what you need is a reference for your sketches, you can always come over and look at the ones we have on display.”

“Really?” you did not hide the sheer excitement you had towards his suggestion, only to back down sheepishly when you realised how eager you were, “But would that be much of a bother to you?”

He was never much of a people person. He had a very carefully selected few close friends around him and he did not intend to broaden his circle any time sooner. He barely even wanted to interact with his customers all that much if it wasn’t for the fact that he needed the business, if he was being honest. His palms were starting to feel clammy from the sweat that wasn’t there just earlier, a feeling he very much so dread but the twist in his stomach that he could not begin to understand somehow hazed over this usual discomfort.

“Well, if you are only sitting there and sketching I don’t see that to be much of an issue...” he said, his voice getting tinier and tinier like he was starting to be confused over his own words.

You walked him out of the parlor with a very, very wide smile that day, thanking him again and again and joking that it was too late for him to take his offer back now because you were going to start annoying him daily. He wanted to argue that you already went around for your flowers often enough that making it a daily occurrence wouldn’t be much of a difference but he bite it back, worried that it would come out harsher than he had meant it and gave you the impression that he actually didn’t want to talk to you.

Which was strange, considering how he never really thought that he actually did want that to happen.

You started showing up at his shop every day, as you had said you would.

At first, your interaction with him was limited to the brief exchange of greetings when you walked into the store, informing the working Sakusa that you would look around yourself and he didn’t need to worry about you. You used to spend so long just standing there and sketch, stretching your neck that was sore from drooping down every once in a while. You said he didn’t need to pay any attention to you but as the owner, he still felt somewhat of a responsibility to show his care about his visitors’ well-being.

Then you showed up at his place again only to find a little bar stool by the counter.

You looked at the suited man at the side and he looked away from under the mask under your stare. “I got you a chair because you are here for very long each time,” he added under your appreciative stare, “people are gonna get the impression that everyone can just walk in and do the same.”

So you now had your own designated spot in his shop, right by the counter where he worked.

You started actually chatting to him after then and you liked to think that you two were friends, even though you still didn’t know what he looked like under the bee hat.

Until one day, when you went along the sidewalk of the peaceful street to the flower shop a few blocks away and saw a strange man struggling at the front door.

You froze in place, taking a few steps closer to the walls so he would not notice you too easily.

Who was this? You looked on warily at the lean figure that was shaking the lock on the glass door rather vigorously, seeming to be more and more frustrated with each moment passed. You could not see his face clearly with the dark curls that fell onto the side of his face. He was dressed in full black, black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black trousers that only accentuated how long his limbs were. The attire did little to help with your suspicion that he was not there for a proper purpose, seeing how he was starting to shake the handle of the door and let out a tired groan when it stayed closed.

Would it be someone trying to break in? In the middle of the day? Oh god, you felt the blood drain from your face when you realised what this meant.

Sakusa would have a breakdown if some unknowns leave dead skin cells over all his things.

“Um... excuse me?” you gathered up your bravery and walked towards the man, slightly taken back when he snapped around to look at you. He was way taller upfront and you gulped.

To your surprise, he didn’t look shocked when you approached him. In fact, he seemed to have calmed down a little from his earlier irritation with the lock upon seeing you.

“Did I not tell you we are closing early today?” he said, crouching forward slightly.

“Oh, I’m just here to look for a friend...” you paused, your eyes widening when you heard how familiar his voice was, “wait... Sakusa?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, brushing the piece of hair that had fallen onto his face away from his eyes. “Yes?”

You were so prepared to fight whoever it was that might be busting the lock open but you were not prepared for this. You were so used to seeing Sakusa in his full body protection gear that the idea of him being this faceless entity got so comfortable in your head, seeing him as someone with actual facial features and expressions made you feel like you were meeting a whole new person all over again. He was staring at you, bending even forward as he waited for you to say something in confusion. The posture allowed you to take a clearer look at his face, and somehow it sent more adrenaline to your system than the nerves you got from thinking that you were about to witness a crime.

Wait, hold up. Why did no one tell you that he was hot?

From the angle you were at, your eyes immediately caught on to the sharp arch of his eyebrows, the two moles on one side dotted on like ink on white paper. His bone structure was pronounced, the defined curve lining his eyes going down to the tip of his nose. He was looking down at your through his long lashes, his lips pursed as he waited for you to say something.

You felt a slight regret rising in your chest for his face that was wasted away because its owner decided to dress like a b-movie crazy scientist.

“Why are you trying to break into your own store?” you asked, breaking the silence when you realised that you had been staring at him like some dazed fool.

He let out a mumbled groan, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “I forgot my mask at the counter before I left but now the door is doing that thing where it gets stuck and couldn’t turn the key,” he turned back to the door, putting both hands on the handle and yanked.

“Do you need help?” you asked, peaking from behind him.

“Please do,” he sighed and you held onto the frame of the door, “I’ve already been exposed to the air for far too long for-” he gritted his teeth as he gave it another pull.

“My-” a slam on the door pushed the rest of the key that was stuck into the porthole.

“Liking-”

The door crashed open with a loud bang and you stumbled forward to regain your balance. He sucked in a deep breath when he felt the sweat on his palm, walking as fast as he could to the counter and let out a relieved sigh when he pulled out another one of his white medical masks.

“Why are you closing early today?” you leaned on the counter as you watched him physically relaxed after hooking the cotton band over his ears.

“I’m heading to the flower market today to look for new suppliers,” he said as he pressed down on the wire on the bridge of his nose, “the one we were working with suddenly said they can’t do business anymore because the delivery company refused to send people here which is very strange.”

“I see,” you said, “I was gonna hang around here because I don’t have any more bookings for today, I’ll come back tomorrow then.”

“You can come with me if you want,” he blurted out, his own eyes widening as he paused, “it might be very boring though.”

“Wait, I had never been there before, can I?” you gasped, “I want to go!”

“Ok.” he said rather stiffly, not expecting you to be so excited about what he viewed to be a rather blend thing to do.

He did not know what it was that made goosebumps rose on his arm when you followed him out of the shop, taking a few steps for each on he took just to keep up with him. It was like how it felt when he used to be less careful and got too close to the plants that he worked with, tickling and irritating and made him want to tear his own skin off but not nearly as unpleasant. In fact, he would go as far as to described the feeling as “fuzziness” when you kept talking to him on the way even though he rarely replied with more than a few short sentences.

“Sakusa, can I ask you something?”

Your voice broke him out of his running state of mind.

“Yes?”

“Why do you always wear a full body suit?"

"I'm allergic to flowers.”

“What?” he grimaced at the reaction he had expected, already knowing what you were going to say next.

It was a mistake, Sakusa grumbled to himself as he recounted how his life seemed to be full of mistakes, starting from becoming a florist even though he was highly sensitive to pollen.

“Then how did you become a florist-”

"Please don’t ask.”

“Ok.”

“Remember to leave the cover on for the next two hours and wash it with lukewarm water,” you said to your last client with a smile as you opened the door for them, "and just contact us if you need any help with the aftercare.”

You let out a satisfied sigh when they happily waved at you before exiting your sight. There was no better feeling than to see someone being so happy about the piece you did for them. You stretched out your arms, rolling your neck as your back cracked. That took a while, you let out a slight whine when you felt the knot on your shoulder. You found yourself to be the type that emerged themselves into their work completely once started on something which you view to be a good thing but that also meant that your notifications were always blown up every time you did a slightly bigger, more detailed piece.

You recalled your phone to buzz non-stop during the appointment until you got annoyed and turned off the sound completely. Taking it out of your pocket, you took one of your gloves off to unlock your screen.

Your eyes widened at the amount of miscalls and messages that came from Sakusa, who had given you his number after you annoyed him into saving yours. He rarely called you, you were always the one spamming his inbox when he was trying to put you on read.

You had a bad feeling about what had happened when you saw another incoming call from the man who had been bombing your phone.

“Hello-”

“Come over.”

“What?” you said. His voice was pressed down even lower than usual and you clutched your phone closer to your face to hear him clearly.

“Please just... come over. Come over quick.” he hissed.

“What is going on? Sakusa are you ok?” you felt the panic building up in your chest at the tone he used.

“I am facing a critical situation and you’re the only help I can get-”

“Ok,” you didn’t wait for him to finish before hastily pushing the door to the street and paced to the direction of the flower shop, “I’m coming over now.”

“Thank you,” he let out a shaky breath, “and please be quick.”

You nearly went over the front door of the shop with how much of a rush you were in. Looking in through the window, the shop was completely empty and you could not even find Sakusa anywhere.

Oh god, what was it that got him in such a crunch?

“Hello?” you asked gingerly as you stepped inside, "Is anyone here? Sakusa?”

There was no one in there. You furrowed your eyebrows as you walked deeper into the stores and past the vases that lined up at the sides.

“Psst..”

You snapped towards where the sound came from.

“Sakusa- ah!” you yelped when you were suddenly yanked down to the floor. You blinked when you saw who it was that suddenly pulled you behind the counter.

“Sakusa, why are you hiding under here?”

You felt bad for finding the very tall, very well-built Sakusa who was once again wrapped up in his plastic suit all curled up under the counter, even more so when you saw that he was actually sitting on a plastic sheet instead of on the bare ground.

Even if he was finding somewhere to hide, he still uphold his principals.

“There’s this...” he shivered, “thing out there crawling around...”

“Thing? Crawling?” you tilted your head as you looked out, “I didn’t see anything?”

“Well of course you don’t. They are fast and tiny and black and...” he shivered again, shaking his head a little as if trying to shake away his thoughts.

“Fast and tiny and black...” you paused, “you mean a cockroach-”

“Do not say it out loud,” he gritted.

“I’m sorry for saying this but thank god,” you let out a deep breath, “I thought you were being held at gun point or something...”

“How is this any better?” he asked in disbelief, “please help me get rid of it..."

“Sakusa I’m not gonna be your personal bug killer-”

“Before I burn this place down-”

“Ok,” you said with your hands thrown up, telling him to stay put and hold back from doing any property damage. You sighed as you stood up, “Thank god I rushed out in such a hurry that I still have my gloves with me...”

Sakusa finally knew what that burning irritation he felt whenever you gush at him was when he peeked from behind the counter to see you swiftly trapping the cockroach under a plastic bag and swept it up with your gloved hands before taking it out to the street. He felt a rapid rhythm drumming in his chest when he heard a loud stomp from outside, his black eyes following your frame when you came back in with a sigh as you skillfully removed your gloves from inside out and tied them together.

“Um...” he felt the slightest bit uneased as he climbed out from his hiding spot, suddenly feeling small even though he was clearly towering over you, “thanks.”

“It’s alright,” you said with a chuckle, “can’t have you dying on me like that.”

He had never been glad about his allergies until now, feeling just a little bit more self-assured because even though his mind was in shambles from the sudden realisation he had, at least he had the mask to hide his face that he was sure to be flushed from you.

“Do you need help sanitising everything?”

"What?” his voice came out as a whisper.

“Well,” you said matter-of-factly, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “I assume you won’t just let it be after that co- that thing got in here?”

“Yeah," he stood up just a little straighter, “yeah, of course.”

Sakusa felt an unexplained taste in his mouth. It was a bit bitter, the dryness making his jaw clenched but he also couldn’t help the muscle at the corner of his mouth from inching up higher and higher as he watched you scrubbing the counter with a cleaning wipe, your forehead crinkling up in concentration

He was so, so in love.

You dropped everything at hand and ran out the door when you got his message.

“Can you come over?”

What was it? What was it this time?

You ignored the bewildered glances from the passersby as you dashed along the otherwise serene street.

Was it a bug? Did someone sneeze near him? Did some idiot broke the vases and got muddy water on him again? There’s no way that could happen twice in a week, right? Right?

You were heaving by the time you got to his place, nearly tripping into the shop as you tried to collect your breath. Sakusa was standing in front of the counter and facing the door, oddly without his usual bee hat. He felt his stomach twisting in knots as you held yourself up by the door with one hand and the other clutching your chest as you panted.

He did not expect you to show up so quickly. He had thought that he would have some more time to collect himself after pressing “send” with his shaking hands so he could look, well, somewhat cooler doing what he planned to do after a lot of inner conflicts.

“Ok, I’m here,” your hair was a mess as you looked up, your chest still heaving from the run, “what is it? What happened? What do I need to do?”

“Um...”

“Oh god, why aren’t you talking? how bad is it?” you said as you slowly straightened your posture, only to feel your breath hitched when you saw why he was in silence.

Sakusa seemed to be in clear discomfort, his eyes shifting around as his throat bobbed. But it wasn’t his usual look of wariness or discontent and instead, he seemed to be nervous.

And then you saw the bunch of red roses he was holding in hand.

“You know,” he gulped, holding his arm out as stretched out as he could, “a dozen roses means ‘be mine’ in flower language.”

You blinked, your eyes slowly widening as he looked away.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” you licked your lips, a grin finding it’s way to your face, “are you trying to say something?”

“I said,” he gritted from his teeth, his face burning up under your teasing tone, “be mine.”

You bite at the inside of your cheeks, your face aching from the smile that was only growing wider. In your ear, you could hear the steady drumming tapping at you, sending the signal everywhere in your body as you felt the warmth that spread together with it.

Say yes, say yes, say yes...

“Of course.”

He let out a hitched breath as his shoulders drooped, pouting a little when he looked back at you as if he was blaming you for poking fun at him earlier.

“Look, I’m sorry,” the look of resentment only grew when you started giggling, “but you were so cute just then, I couldn’t help myself.”

He grumbled and your giggling turned into actual laughs while he glared at you but couldn’t hide the blush on his face.

“It doesn’t matter as long as I say yes, right?”

"Sure,” he let out a soft tsk, “but can you please take this?”

“Is that really the way to go at it-”

“I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, oh,” you said when you suddenly remembered his allergy and rushed to take the roses from him, “of course, of course...”

If you take a turn at the first corner of the bustling shopping district, you would find yourself in the quieter, older parts of the area. There was a quaint little flower shop hidden away from the noisy crowd and a tattoo parlor a few blocks away, but you already knew that. You also knew that as bewildering as it sounded, the florist that run the shop was actually deadly allergic to flowers.

But what you didn’t know (or at least pretend not to so he wouldn’t feel too embarrassed) was that for you, the tattoo artist who loved flowers, the florist who was allergic to flowers wouldn’t mind taking off his plastic suit and hand deliver fresh flowers to you every day just to see you smile.

Bonus

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“Really.”

“Yes,” Sakusa said with a deadpan face as he sat on the chair.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he replied, even though his entire body was tensed up.

“Ok,” you said, leaning closer to him, “promise me you won’t regret this.”

“Yes.”

“Ok,” you said in a breathy tone, gulping as you placed you held the edge of the tattoo chair for leverage, “I’m gonna do it.”

“Ok.”

You took a deep breath, staring at your boyfriend who had his eyes pressed tightly together as you lifted your hand.

His eyes snapped open at the light peck you placed on his lips.

Look, look. This might seem dramatic but this was a huge step for him, alright?

You blinked, nervous about what he might be thinking, “how was it?”

He seemed to be dazed, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes that were fixed on him.

Nothing could stop the surprised gasp you let out when he suddenly latched onto you and kissed you much more firmly, not letting you move away with his hand at the back of your head.

Your breathing was rapid when he finally let you go, your face heating up when he poked his tongue out and swiped it along his bottom lip.

“I think I might actually like this more than I thought I would.”

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa imagine #sakusa imagines

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writ-in-writings · 3 years

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Embarking on a writing project - particularly historical fiction, but any genre - calls for some dedicated research. It’s important for your own ease when writing your novel and for the reader who can feel fully immersed and trust that what they’re reading rings close to the truth. It’s also respectful to those who lived through major events or were affected by them down the road.

By itself, this task can feel daunting and there’s the temptation to charge in and figure things out as you go. I should know; I started by employing this very tactic. But in my journey, I learned a lot of dos and don’ts of novel research that I’ve now compiled here for other writers who would benefit from knowing this approach early on.

For further discussions, follow the link to my full post on Medium, but I’ll be sure to put plenty of details on here, as well as some smoking hot summary slides made via Canva, a godsend from the design deities.

Why we research

Several reasons, briefly discussed earlier: doing quality research is a service for writer, reader, and subject matter alike. Historical fiction deals with some of the most incredible, awe-inspiring (for better or worse), and/or underrepresented moments in the stunning scope of human history. To navigate this totally new world with ease, you’ll want to know about it yourself; make it your area of expertise in every sense of the word. Literally, with the senses, so your writing process can get a running start once this is done.

Then, of course, the reader can enjoy the experience as the immersive journey it’s meant to be. They can trust what you’re presenting to them and enjoy a really, really good book, learn something, and not feel the need to pause and wonder “does that make sense...? Is that true...?”

Start with Wikipedia - I promise it’s okay!

I know many of our grade school and high school teachers are turning their heads 180 degrees to stare in horror at the idea, but eventually instructors will loosen the reins. And they’ll offer the important distinction: Wikipedia is a good starting place, not a final source. It offers a fount of useful terms, a broad overview, related topics worth looking up to truly paint a true picture of the historical era, and it (usually) cites its own sources. That, in turn, lets you conduct the important step: trust but verify.

Think of Wikipedia like a web. The very center is the most basic related search term about your novel’s subject matter. From there, it branches out into new subjects that are inexorably related and relevant, that WILL fill in important gaps, even if it’s just one or two sentences - those two lines will ring true and authentic because you read a related term on Wikipedia, checked its sources, and found a valuable scholarly or firsthand account on the subject matter.

What should you be looking for, anyway?

Primary or secondary sources, or something totally different, all should provide you different pieces of information that all serve the goal of enriching your world and easing your job as a writer.

For a truly immersive experience, you want to get into the very mind of people from that time and place. This is always important because it will help set an appropriate voice for characters. Go forth into the sources you compile wanting them to give you helpful chronology, relevant players, key locations, and common practices, at the very least.

Primary Sources

These almost always have some sort of biased leanings - what doesn’t? But that too has value. They put you into a sample mind of someone from X demographic, in addition to any objective, factual information they can provide. They’re not worth overlooking or discarding, even if they should be approached with a critical eye.

But that’s part of the fun, right?

Secondary sources

Still don’t want to totally rule out a person’s own biases leaking through what they have to say. But there are some important numbers they can give. Usually, these can be considered accurate, BUT you should always verify with other sources, even when it seems something as straightforward and irrefutable as numbers, dates, locations, people involved, etc.

For example, try being a 20th century historian figuring out what happened at the Ipatiev House in 1918. Different outside sources will give WILDLY different accounts to avoid blame. Same with state-sanctioned erasure of history. Even our beloved, reliable textbooks can leave certain things out to totally re-color history. Literally.

Important source types!!!

This is one I really want you to take to heart because it made a world of difference for me. A lot of quick research can be done online these days and many sites can have well-organized content that outlines essential information in a very helpful way.

But there are some things they can’t or won’t provide for you, usually from time and word count constraints. You need the little details and some sites just don’t have a place to include that. What are the sounds of the era? The tastes and textures, sights and routines? What would you have seen if you stepped into the era of your interest? When available, videos give you just that window to the past.

Putting it all together

So you’re onto that lovely stage of using all this information you just gathered. Congratulations! Now here are some recommendations for how to actually research and keep track of everything.

Have a Word Doc or note sheets just for this. Organize it however suits you best; I went through chronology and relevant parts of my novel (since it’s set during WWII, I had separate spots for combat and civilian life, and broken down further based on setting as the front line moved).

For your own peace of mind, keep track of where you read each fact. That way if you ever doubt or want to read more or anything, you know where to find it. Remember, the reader is putting their trust in your hands (and your book in THEIR hands). Do right by yourself, your book, the subject matter, and the reader by having an earnest research system. With all this in mind, best of luck to you on all your literary endeavors.

To read more of my writing guidelines, follow me at the links below:

[Medium]

[Instagram]

[Twitter]

[The Quilted Atlas]

#writing #creative writing #historical fiction #writing tips #writing inspiration #research #verification #truth #accuracy #sources #original post

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shinhatigf · 3 years

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a little bit insane ahsoka and luke au

the lovely @picazos-angsty-typist inspired me to just post my au ideas as opposed to giving them away, and this one is my absolute favorite! it's an au in which 19 year old ahsoka finds the time travel crystal from the lego star wars christmas special and is transported onto tatooine right before a new hope. then she gets to go along through the original trilogy and be best friends with luke! (this is honestly just an extremely convoluted way to get my favorite characters to be best friends. this au is for me <3.) extremely long elaborations and plot stuff in bullet points under the cut:

okay so 19 year old ahsoka! it would be about 2 years post order 66 and about 6-8 months since the ending of the ahsoka novel, so she's traveling the world and doing fulcrum things, attempting to build a rebellion with bail organa. this, naturally, means she needs to hide from the empire.

because it needs to be life day for the crystal to work, that's the day this all starts (in ahsoka's original timeline). ahsoka finds out randomly that it's life day, and has a moment remembering the day before order 66, before the empire.

she gets into a skirmish with the empire close by kordoku, the planet with the time travel stone on it. she feels a pull from the force, like there's a safe haven on the planet below, so she lands and immediately knows why: she's in front of a jedi temple. she knows she'll be safe inside from the empire. she walks in, and seals the temple with the force

she picks up the weird rock thing in the middle of the room, as it's singing to her through the force. the second she touches it, a wormhole opens up, and she's dropped directly in the middle of a tatooinian sandstorm.

we the audience know that she's time traveled, but ahsoka has no clue. and as I'm assuming she doesn't have much experience wandering ancient abandoned jedi temples (in her time, very recently, they'd been populated and upkept), she wouldn't suspect she was hallucinating. she assumed the rock somehow teleported her, but the sand and the wind of the sandstorm make it impossible for her to find the rock. where before it had been singing to her through the force, she couldn't feel anything now.

she has no choice but to try and find shelter from the storm and wait it out. she finds a sort of cave, a small hideout, so she sets up her small camp. having nothing else to do, she opens herself up to the force to meditate, hoping to locate the rock and find more information about her new situation. however, she instead discovers something she wasn't expecting: the faint and utterly familiar force prescence of one obi-wan kenobi

it feels damaged and weak, almost as if he'd cut himself off from the force somewhat, but there was no denying that it was obi-wan. ahsoka thanked the force for sending her to the rock, as she assumes it had just sent her to obi-wan and nothing else.

during this force meditation, she also discovers the planet that she's on is tatooine. this heavily reminds her of anakin, hearing echoes of their conversation as they crossed the desert from what seems like a million years ago.

once the storm settles, she makes her way through the tatooinian desert, and just as the suns are coming up and she knows she would need to find shelter, she happens upon the Lars farm.

she meets Owen and Beru Lars and their nephew, Luke. they are kind and good people, and do not hesitate to offer ahsoka a place to stay + some food and water. ahsoka rests up somewhat, but insists on helping them in return.

this part I haven't quite nailed out yet. tatooine side quest featuring ahsoka and luke doing whatever one does on a moisture farm. I assume ahsoka would offer technological help as she's a good mechanic (perks of master skywalker) so maybe they're going around and fixing vaporators?

that day and into the night, she and luke really hit it off. she learns more about tatooine and more about how they've been affect by the war. however from the way luke talks about it, the empire has been around as long as he can remember. this strikes ahsoka as extremely odd, and wonders what else is going on, but fixing things doesn't leave much room for another galaxy warping revelation, so she doesn't dwell on it immediately.

she and luke discuss kind of everything. they become buddies bc that's important to me. the next day, she tells them she's looking for obi-wan kenobi. "do you know someone named obi-wan kenobi?" luke does his little "do you think she means old ben kenobi?" number which is fun n nostalgic hehe.

owen seems to freeze. he hasn't heard that name in quite some time, and it doesn't exactly conjure pleasant memories. he reluctantly agrees to let luke point her in the right direction, and she buys a speeder from them (they try to give it to her but she insists on paying. ahsoka ftw)

ahsoka manages to avoid the tuskens on her way into the jundland wastes and runs into.... this really old dude. this is when she really has to confront the time travel of it all. she and obi-wan have a Talk. there's still a little bad blood between them considering obi-wan was on the council that condemned her without remorse or apology, but they're both so relieved to see the other alive.

ahsoka learns that it's been 19 years since order 66, since the empire took over. she remembers the day it happened, what only feels like 2 years ago to her.

she mentions that luke helped her find him, and obi-wan freezes. this obviously gets noticed by ahsoka, and obi-wan drops the real bomb on her: luke is anakin and padmé's son. obi-wan tells her that anakin died in order 66 and padmé died with the rebellion, that he's here both to hide out and to protect luke. she remarks in her head that the whole chosen one thing is ridiculous, that pinning the entire galaxy's hopes on a nineteen year old kid that up until now obi-wan has refused to even CONSIDER training (skywalker trauma lolz) but she can sense the strong emotions from him, that he wouldn't have it in him to stand up to the empire alone, so she drops it.

as to how padmé died: i hate the way that she dies in the prequels so I am deleting it. this is my canon. she actually survives and stays with the rebellion for a good 3-5 years before she's killed in a rebel vs. empire conflict. ahsoka is especially devastated to learn about her death from obi-wan (who bail organa risked communication with to tell him, as he was also close with padmé).

she and obi-wan spar, both to get Ahsoka's mind off of the everything about this situation and because it's been so long since either of them have been around another jedi. it's cathartic for both of them. (ahsoka beats obi-wan easily btw haha)

obi-wan offers to officially knight her as a jedi knight, as that was what the council had intended after the whole fiasco and he says "you're just as experienced and powerful as I was when I was knighted." but ahsoka declines. she isn't ready to be considered a jedi yet, and may never be.

this is when a new hope really starts. obi-wan and ahsoka find luke unconscious in the jundland wastes, and that sequence goes pretty much the same. r2 is beeping and trilling like crazy because ahsoka!!!!!! that's one of his best friends!!!!!!! luke is like "you know this droid?" and ahsoka freezes, because how exactly does she explain to the nice dude she met yesterday that actually she's from 17 years in the past and was very close with both of his parents, who both were extremely close to r2?

she does in fact explain all of that to him when they get to obi-wan's house. she has no idea how she got here or why, but she did know anakin skywalker and padmé amidala naberrie, and tells him as much as she remembers about them. luke misses both of his parents like an ache in his chest, wishing more than anything he could have known them.

obi-wan offers his own perspective on it, and tells how anakin died (which ahsoka is just as eager to know). obi-wan, on the spot, says that another jedi fell to the dark side and joined sidious, and that anakin died defending the temple. (he obviously couldn't say that vader was his pupil, because ahsoka would see through that immediately.)

luke asks why he couldn't have lived with his mother in the rebellion, but obi-wan says that she wanted him to be safe from the galactic conflict and stay with anakin's family. (which is partially true, but the whole sith-sensing-the-overly-powerful-skywalkers was a big factor as well.) obi-wan says he's truly sorry that luke never got to know her.

after learning about the message r2 brought, ahsoka knows she has to get to the rebellion however possible and rejoin the fight. obi-wan agrees, and gives his little elevator pitch to luke about becoming a jedi and joining the rebellion. when obi-wan gives luke the lightsaber, a million memories with anakin flash through ahsoka's head. luke still comes to same conclusion at the end of that conversation: he's willing to guide them out of tatooine, but he can't join the galactic conflict, at least not now.

however, as they're leaving, they find the destroyed jawa crawler. luke, as before, realizes it means the stormtroopers found his family. ahsoka knows that only despair waits there for him, and urges him not to go, but when he doesn't back down hops in the speeder with him (for protection and emotional support).

luke gets to have more emotions about the fact that the empire killed his /entire family./ ahsoka doesn't try and use it to convince him to go, only offers to help him bury them. she openly uses the force to move things around and make things easier, while luke is still in shock, almost numb. they're buried next to shmi and cliegg.

luke is ANGRY at the empire. he is PISSED. he decides to go with them to fight not because he longs for adventure, but because he wants to hit the empire where it hurts. ahsoka can recognize that isn't the thought process of a jedi, but she feels the exact same way after learning about anakin and padmé.

now it's mos eisley time. i feel like han would definitely like/admire ahsoka at first, but ahsoka would not like him. she finds him deplorable and a little annoying, and joins in on the whole bagging on the falcon jokes. this leads to han getting his feelings hurt and he's like fine :( we are not friends then >:(.

the interesting thing is that chewie and ahsoka actually know each other! they were both kidnapped by bossk and hunted for sport in that one clone wars arc, so they're both like "oh hey person who was there for one of the most terrifying and traumatic times in my life! what's up!" they become fast friends yet again, and chewie is like "wow you did not age at all. are you sure you're not a wookiee?"

on the millennium falcon, she and obi-wan get started on luke's training. he asks her about his parents constantly (what they were like, what they did, where they came from, etc). she also talks about what the jedi were like (providing a less rose-colored-glasses perspective, but still with a lot of positives).

she feel the same pain obi-wan does right before they get to alderaan, and can feel bail and breha organa in particular (having known them fairly well after the ahsoka novel).

they get pulled into the death star's tractor beam. ahsoka can feel the cold and horrible presence of vader, a sick dread building in her the closer they get to it. they go to hide under the floorboards of the falcon. han knows how the empire operates better than anyone, which ahsoka is shocked to learn is much different than the Republic or the empire she remembers. (i imagine she lived in a more transitional period, so while the empire was terrible during her time, they were only getting started.)

she tries to go with obi-wan to shut off the power beam, but obi-wan still does his "I must go alone" little number. sensing the end of something, but not what it is, she hugs him goodbye. he's still obi-wan and she missed him dreadfully. he tells her to protect luke.

she along with luke refuses to indulge han's obi-wan slander, and when han says "great at getting us into trouble!" she says "you should have met anakin."

then it's princess rescue time as it should be. that goes exactly the same except ahsoka is much better at defending them from the stormtroopers lol. leia still does the blasting and "somebody has to save our skins!" line because I love that

ahsoka can tell immediately that leia is padmé's daughter. she had probably heard of leia, being in the rebellion for about six months before time traveling, but now having met her it's completely obvious. she doesn't vocalize this immediately though, planning to discuss it with obi-wan.

yes I'm keeping the garbage monster scene because I think it's funny :)

ahsoka goes with han and chewie after the stormtroopers while luke and leia head for the ship. also ahsoka + han banter because I think it's funny

she can see obi-wan and vader's fight (which I'm hoping will be a lot more like their fight in rots. a new hope is incredible but the lightsaber fights got way better as time went on. their final fight deserves to be epic). she tries to run and help obi-wan but luke pulls her back. "he can handle it," he says. "we need you to help us get to the falcon."

however when obi-wan is killed, both of them are distraught. his voice appears in ahsoka's head, telling her not to face vader yet, telling her to run. chewie literally has to hold her back and carry her to the ship.

they blast their way out of the death star, none of them having the time to dwell on what just happened.

ahsoka and luke are both numb. luke lost 3 parental figures in one day, and obi-wan's death after going through order 66 just brings it allll up again. leia is also hanging out in the numb dead parents circle, because her entire planet got blown up today and obi-wan's death just feels like another nail in the coffin. all three of them can sort of feel each other's emotions, and unconsciously they're comforting each other with the force. it's a healing moment for all three of them

han is kind of awkwardly standing in the background. "there wasn't anything any of you could have done," he says, in a rare show of emotion. (i like han wanting to help them despite his i-don't-care-about-anything facade.)

this doesn't stop him from saying he's only in it for the money later though. leia gets to blow up at him about it same as in the movie because she deserves it methinks.

they make it to the rebellion, and a few of the people who've been in it from the beginning recognize her (mon mothma maybe?). I also like the idea of ahsoka being something of rebellion legend, having been one of the last jedi who presumably died fighting the empire for the rebellion.

also general hera syndulla gets to be there bc i love her. she is the one who shows the plans to the pilots and explains the plan. she also references the rogue one crew because i love them also.

ahsoka in an x-wing with the red team attempting to blow up the death star. when vader makes an appearance, she can sense him in the starfighter nearby them, the same cold and evil presence. she personally goes to fight vader and defends the rest of the team from him, somehow falling into a perfect rhythm and anticipating every move. she doesn't kill him obviously, but she gets close. the things that happen stay the same: they sustain heavy casualties, she survives the battle, han comes back to save the day, luke is the one who blows up the death star.

luke, han, chewie, and ahsoka get medals in the end, because each of them were instrumental in the blowing up of the death star (and a lot more pilots survive thanks to Ahsoka's defense). there are references to the phineas and ferb star wars special because I want it.

there's a bit after the official end of a new hope in which she's talking to Luke like "I can't stay. this isn't my timeline. I have to go back. and if I can go back, maybe I can try and save the jedi. maybe I can fix things." however luke changes her mind. "maybe you're in this timeline for a reason. maybe NOW is when you can change things. I would've died without you in the battle of yavin. plus, how am I supposed to become a jedi without you?" luke + leia + han + chewie + r2 + 3po all convince her to stay. they are all very attached to ahsoka at this point, and ahsoka realizes she doesn't really want to leave them either.

also. because the battle is over and they all have a moment to breathe, she tells leia that she's positive she's padmé and anakin's daughter too, not just because of the physical resemblence but also her force sensitivity. there's no doubt about it.

ahsoka agrees to train both of them in what she knows, though she warns that she wasn't a master or even a knight.

it ends with the whole crew hanging out on the falcon (han, leia, luke, chewie, r2, c-3po, and ahsoka)

those are my bullet points for the episode IV section of this! if people want to see where this goes in the rest of the trilogy let me know I have so many notes about this au

also tagging: @togrutanduin @padme--amygdala @bisexualobiwanrights @grimthejedisith @senator-nahberries you get to watch me lose my mind in real time <3

#word count: 3.0k #and this is only the first installment if I ever write this it's going to be so long #the original trilogy #ahsoka tano #luke skywalker #it's loving ahsoka hours #luke is my favorite himbo #my writing #? never used that tag before maybe I should?#ryn dot fic #ryn dot text

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softyoongiionly · 4 years

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NSFW A-Z List (Mama Mia! Jungkook)

***This contains smut, 18+ only please***

“Aqua told me you all had some questions for me so, I had my assistant fax me the prompt and, I’m really hoping she didn’t read it because, these are filthy ha. I hope you all enjoy yourselves.”

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex):

“It kind of depends on the situation but, if I just had sex, I’m in a good mood. If Y/N and I are in the bed, I make sure I change the sheets and, I make sure she’s cleaned up and, feeling good too. Sometimes we like to talk about it. A bit of pillow talk is always great. PILLOWW TALK! Do you guys remember that song by that one dude in one direction? Great song. It’s like he left one direction and, immediately needed to say the word fuck and sing about sex.”

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

“This is a weird question. I like my abs? I guess? I mean I spent like a million hours in the gym trying to tone up and stuff so, it’s definitely the only thing that stands out.”

“Y/N is the by far the most beautiful woman on the planet so, it’s a little hard to pin point one specific part of her I like the most. If I had to choose, I would say her eyes. Sometimes she looks at me and, I suddenly forget all three languages I speak. She takes my breath away. Literally, who is she looking at like that? Me? Does she value my life at all? Is she trying to kill me? Probably. I love her :-)”

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person):

“Cum...I don’t really know what I’m supposed to talk about in this section so, I’m just gonna say- yes?? Is that the right answer?”

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

“One time, when Y/N was away on business, I jerked off so much in one day, I sprained my hand. I guess that isn’t dirty but, it is embarrassing. I’d probably do it again though, I’m so spoiled that I forgot what’s its like to go without sex.”

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?):

“Yikes this question is a little hard for me to answer. Before meeting Y/N, I had a lot of different partners. After finding out my half-brother tried to steal my recipe, I got really down on myself. I felt really empty and, I spent a lot of time partying and, hooking up with random people. I don’t really know how many if I’m being honest. It was a lot though. After awhile I kind of snapped out of it and, realized I needed to deal with my issues head on so, after a bit of therapy, I was doing a lot better. Sexually, I’ve had a lot of experience but, intimacy? That’s a lot newer for me. And let me tell you my dudes, nothing is sexier than being with someone who truly loves and cares for you. I don’t make the rules.”

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual):

“Missionary. Listen, I know it’s a boring answer but, I’m a sucker for passion what can I say? I like watching her face and, seeing all the little expressions she makes, especially right when I first push inside of her. Also, it’s the best position for her to scratch up my back and, I really love when she does that.”

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc):

“I don’t really find a lot of things to laugh about during sex but, I’m sure it’s happened at some point. Sex is kind of a serious thing for me now but, I wouldn’t stay serious if something funny happened because, sometimes funny things do happen. When they do, we laugh but, then I’m right back in the moment again. Y/N and I mess around a lot in our daily lives so, I like to use sex as a way to show her how serious I am about her and, our relationship.”

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.):

“I got laser hair removal like 3 years ago. Yes, it’s possible to get it done in sensitive areas but, it’s crazy expensive. Or so I’ve heard, I’m not gonna lie to you, my idea of expensive and, other people’s idea of expensive are probably a little different. But yeah, I got it all lasered off so, it doesn’t really grow there anymore. I keep my face shaved too but, my arms and legs are free to grow all the hair they want.”

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…):

“With Y/N, I’m a little bit of a hopeless romantic, I can’t lie. I love all of that cheesy shit. Rose petals on the bed? Yes. Wine and chocolate on the shores of our private beach? At least twice a week. Leaving Y/N little post it notes all over our villa that contain all the things I love about her? Duh. I AM A SAP. I AM A MESS. I can’t help myself. My father collects first edition classic novels and, for Valentine’s Day, I had him send me the contact of his distributor so, I could buy Y/N the first edition of The Princess Bride. It’s one of her favorites. It was only $1,400 so, I definitely got a good deal. I also had a custom gown imported from France and, a prince-like outfit made for me. What do princes even wear? What is that called? Tights? I don’t know but, I looked like a goddamn Disney prince by the time I was done getting ready. I rented a different villa out for the weekend and, my interior designer decorated it like a medieval castle. We spent the weekend playing prince and princess and, it was probably one of the best weekends of my life. So to answer your question: Yes, I am romantic.”

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon):

“I only really touch myself when Y/N is away. Her and I have a pretty consistent sex life so, we have sex almost every day, sometimes multiple times a day. I don’t really have a need for it anymore and, it doesn’t feel nearly as good as sex with Y/N.”

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks):

“I have a few. I’m really sensitive to smells so, if Y/N smells good, I can’t keep my hands off of her. She has this one perfume from Gucci that I love so much. I can get hard just from the smell; it’s kind of pathetic honestly. I love having sex outside too. It’s a good thing we have a private strip of the beach because, if we had neighbors nearby, they would hate us ha. I have a cashmere picnic blanket that we take down there a few times a week and, we always end up making love on it. Yes, I said making love. Get over it. Oh and, if Y/N says anything about my muscles or how strong I am? Instant turn on. I think I have a praise kink? Is that what it’s called? I love Y/N’s panties too. Lace, silk, cotton, clean or dirty; I don’t discriminate, just put them in my mouth. Lol, this is getting dirty…sorry Aqua.”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do):

“I already kind of answered this but, sex on the beach or sex on our balcony are probably my top two.”

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going):

“I feel like I answered this one too because, I just talked about my kinks but, I would say my motivation is to get my girl off right? I get off easily. I have a beautiful woman all over me, saying dirty things in my ear… I mean, my orgasm is guaranteed. Y/N doesn’t take a long time to cum anymore because; I know how to please my woman but, I still want her to feel good. I want to see her let go and, let someone else take care of her for a change. She works so hard. I want to show her what a good woman she is. I want to show her how much I love her.”

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

“Threesomes, anal and, I’m pretty sure this is everyone’s answer but, bodily fluids belong in the toilet.”

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc):

“Yes.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.):

“Both. Sometimes I want to draw it out and, let her feel every inch of me but, sometimes I want to fuck so hard we are both sore the next day. It’s all amazing either way.”

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.):

“I love quickies. They are great in the afternoon when she and I have things to do but, we still want each other. They would get old after a while though so, we usually do both. It’s very rare that we just have a quickie and, nothing else but, sometimes it happens. Ever since we moved to Greece, we try to always make time for each other but, we both get busy from time to time.”

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.):

“I’m game to experiment a little bit but, Y/N and I have been together awhile. We’ve tried a few different things but, sex with her is so amazing, I don’t feel the need to experiment that much anymore.”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…):

“I can last forever if I need to. Like I said, my orgasm is an easy thing to obtain with a woman like Y/N so, my focus is making sure she’s feeling it too. I can go for multiple rounds too, I mean it’s hard not to. Have you seen her? We have sex all night sometimes. I hope she finishes her conference call soon, I’m really starting to miss her…”

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?):

“Y/N owns a very tasteful collection of dildos made out of rose quartz and jade. I use them on her sometimes between rounds but, I don’t know how often she uses them beyond that. I don’t own any toys but, I do spend quite a bit of money on new lingerie for Y/N. She has an entire armoire for all of her outfits. Oh, we have gold handcuffs too. We take turns using them on each other.”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

“Y/N has a really sensitive spot on her neck and, she’s really tender around her waist so, sometimes I come up beyond her and, brush my lips against her throat and, tickle her. She’s told me it turns her on immediately so, I like to play with her a little bit. We both tease each other a lot though, especially during phone meetings. One time, I was on a 4 way call with my investors and, she sucked my dick through the entire thing. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack but, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cum a little harder that time. Maybe that’s another kink of mine…”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make):

“We live on a private piece of land so; we can be as loud as we want. I’m only loud when things are getting intense but, even still I’m not screaming at the top of my lungs. She isn’t crazy loud either but, I do try my hardest to get her to scream my name every now and again. Just for fun.”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice):

“Y/N and I are in the process of buying an island in the Caribbean and, sometimes I get turned on when she talks about how much money we both have. I’m sorry, I know it’s a dick move but, it’s the truth. I donate millions to charity every year, I swear.”

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words):

“I’m like 7 inches I think? When I’m hard it’s probably like 8 or 9. I’m not sharing any more than that ha.”

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

“Pretty high. Unless I’m really sick or really busy.”

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

“If we’ve been going for multiple rounds, I’m pretty exhausted by the end of it but, I don’t just fall asleep. I don’t want to leave the bed afterwards though. I just want to cuddle with Y/N until we both pass out. If it’s during the day and, we’ve only gone once or twice, I’m not tired at all.”

“Aqua wanted me to dedicate this to @gldnrecs and, @bulletproofbirdy. She says you guys are the best and, apparently you have a sweet spot for me. So, I guess I’ll dedicate this to you too ha. I hope you liked it.”

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook #bts jungkook #mama mia!#A-Z: Mama Mia! Jungkook #smutcentralnet #bts scenarios #bts reactions

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ladymiseria · 4 years

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Smut Alphabet - Satan

Here is another one for one of the more underappreciated Obey Me boys. I just love Satan a lot, okay.

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

-You are his priority after sex, plain and simple. He knows how delicate the human body is compared to a demon’s so he has to make sure that you’re okay, physically and emotionally. He’ll do whatever you need to relax and loves holding you and stroking your hair and just coming back to earth (the Devildom? lol) together.

In terms of aftercare he needs/wants, affirmations of love and reassurance are big for him. It makes him feel better to know that you’re still happy with him and want to continue on together, learning and growing along the way.

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

-Satan loves your neck: kissing it, touching it, biting it, sucking on it, marking it up. It means a lot to him that you trust him enough to allow him to get close so he makes sure to lavish such an important part of your body with as much attention as he can.

While he ultimately doesn’t pay much mind to his own physical attributes (he values his brains more than his braun), he does enjoy his arms and how he’s able to use them for displays of both softness (hugging, holding, etc) and strength (picking you up, pinning you down, etc).

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

-He’s down to come anywhere pretty much, but the real winner is when you swallow/clean up after him with your mouth and then kiss him afterwards.

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

-He goes absolutely feral when you look/act like a little slut in front of him (teasing, flirting, showing a lot of skin, etc). He has a bit of a jealousy streak and you being too saucy~ really brings it out of him.

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

-Satan has had his fair share of experience (he’s very popular with the witches). That said, he also reads a lot of romance novels so he had to find the real-world balance of how sexual encounters actually work once he met someone he really cared about.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

-Satan looooves to hit it from behind: hands on your hips, your face in the pillows, pulling your hair. Any position that puts him in control is A+ in his mind.

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

-He can be very serious, but he’ll still laugh with you (especially if you surprise him with a kiss or something like that). He’s a fairly serious person in general, but he allows himself to let go of the facade a bit when you’re together.

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

-Satan takes his grooming and personal hygiene very seriously. He’s always shaved and conditioned and overall just very clean. He smells really nice, too.

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

-Satan is a hopeless romantic. He always wants to take you on dates and buy you gifts and do little things here and there for you to show how much he cares and how much you mean to him. This often carries over into any sexual encounters you have, as well. He very near worships your body and wants to make you feel good and, more importantly, loved. Even if he’s going hard, he never forgets to check in with you and balance it out with some tenderness.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

-He’s actually not big on masturbating: if he wanted to get off, he could just go find a willing participant with relative ease. He also sometimes feels a bit guilty and dirty after masturbating, though he can’t quite place his finger on why. And if he’s turned on and you’re not in the immediate vicinity, he would honestly rather just let his lust build as he searches for you and then unleash it while you’re together.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

-Dom/sub, bondage, biting, collaring, blindfolds, a bit of bloodplay if you’re down

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

-His room, because he can have you all to himself without the risk of interruption. That said, he’s had you in the library and the archives, as well, which was exceptionally thrilling.

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

-Satan is a big ol’ nerd and any display of your intelligence or expertise (in any subject) is a huge turn on for him. He could listen to you talk for hours about your interests and he’s even more enthralled when it’s an interest the two of you share. You are unbelievably sexy to him when you show off your smarts.

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

-He doesn’t care to be dominated due to always wanting to be in control, but it’s something you’ve been working on together and he’s much more receptive to letting go of the reins on occasion now.

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

-Satan is infuriatingly good at giving oral. He has no idea why you say this but he accepts the compliment. Receiving feels exceptionally dirty to him, but he gets off on it.

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

-Fast and rough is the general default for Satan given his title, but being the romantic he is, he can get very sensual, focusing solely on you and fulfilling your every wish until you’re completely spent.

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

-Satan can be a jealous, possessive boy so it’s not uncommon for him to have his way with you when the mood strikes him. Quickies aren’t his preferred engagement (at least with you), but sometimes he’s simply incapable of waiting.

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

-He’s the most logical and level-headed of the brothers so his knee-jerk reaction to a risk is hesitance, but his passion for you wins out more often than not. He’s certainly down to experiment and is always eager to hear your ideas and what you’d like to try and, if allowed the time, he nerds out and does all the research he can to make sure he’s doing things correctly (and safely, should it apply).

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

-As long as you need him to/as long as he wants. He is a demon and that has its advantages.

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

-Satan had always been intrigued by toys, but had never explored with them until the two of you got together. He loves to use them on you now, though. He likes the variety and all the new sensations and scenarios he can use them for: it’s almost like studying.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

-It varies depending on his mood. He likes to tease until he’s convinced that you want him as much as he wants you. He doesn’t prolong it, though; he mostly does it to see all of your cute reactions.

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

-Not very loud, but there’s still a lot of vocal expression on his part. Growls, moans, groans, whispers, and the occasional chuckle are all part of the encounter with him. He likes to talk to you during and likes when you talk to him.

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

-He likes pulling you close to him with the feather boa from his demon form and kissing you while he wraps you both up in it. He also likes tying your wrists together with it.

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

-Satan’s dick has similar coloration to his tail, but the texture isn’t as rough or severe. It has a distinct but not uncomfortable upward curve to it, as well.

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

-He never knew he could want someone as much as he wants you. He still likes having his own space from time to time, but just thinking about you for long enough usually leads him down the path of lust and he’s not one to sit around and do nothing about it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

-Not very quickly. He’d prefer to spend time with you relaxing afterward. Even if you fall asleep, he’s content to hold you and read until you wake up or he feels tired, as well.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me satan #satan #smut #writing #obey me headcanons #ABCs of Smut #Smut Alphabet #shall we date

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dokidokivisual · 3 years

Text

Gochiusa BLOOM episode 5 impressions

Previously: 4 - 3 - 2 - 1

Welcome to another installment of my Gochiusa BLOOM episode reviews. At the end of last episode Cocoa finds out about Chino’s intention to go to her school, so this episode opens with some sort of ceremony to celebrate this fact. Despite a reference to alcohol, this ceremony might seem innocent, but it actually has a dark connotation...

First off, Cocoa is asking if everyone is holding a sakazuki. Sakazuki is a special traditional sake cup, which was apparently so important that it even has its own kanji 盃. A real sakazuki is actually more like a saucer than a cup, and holds very little alcohol. The girls are holding regular coffee cups, while pretending they are sakazuki. But what is the importance of sakazuki here?

The hint comes from Chiya’s description of the ceremony: 義兄弟の盃 (gikyodai no sakazuki) which literally translates as “sake cup of sworn brothers”, though kyodai can be used for siblings of any gender. The origin of this type of ceremony lies in Chinese 14th century novel Romance of Three Kingdoms, where the so-called Oath of the Peach Garden has transpired between three major characters. However in modern times, this type of brotherhood ceremony is mainly used by organized crime syndicates known as yakuza. So what you’re supposed to be seeing in this scene is literally Chino being initiated into a gang. If you’re interested, here’s a video of gikyodai sakazuki ceremony of Yamaguchi-gumi, the largest yakuza organization.

The ceremony is interrupted by Aoyama Blue Mountain who somehow got behind the counter. Soon, Mate Rin comes in looking for her, but she’s already gone. Before this point I didn’t know yet what the part B of the episode will be about, but this intro definitely provides a hint about it. Rin also gives a business card to Chiya, but it’s a bit difficult to read. Thankfully, there’s a better shot of it later in the episode.

Cocoa remembers there’s a marathon tournament, and Chiya is horrified when she learns that it involves running. However Cocoa persuades her that as Chino’s recently sworn older sister and senior she should run the whole distance.

Chiya’s motivation for participation in marathon was changed compared to the manga, the chapter in question (vol.5 ch.7) opens with Cocoa and Chiya doing exercises during PE class (a scene sadly cut out from the anime) and has to deal with Chiya and Cocoa’s friendship bond. This is why Chiya wants to finish the race with Cocoa so badly.

Chiya starts training by herself to get ready for the marathon. The location where she trains (some sort of clearing being overlooked by a bridge) is quite interesting, as it also appears in season 1 episode 5 (where Cocoa and Chiya practice volleyball) and Sing For You OVA where Chino uses the same tire excercise as part of her special training.

Ironically Rize thinks one tire is “too far” for Chiya, but 5 tires is ok for Chino who was supposed to train her singing. Anyway it’s quite interesting how some locations in town stay consistent, I wonder if the staff has a detailed map of them.

Despite having muscle pain from training, Chiya shows her resolve to finish the race to Cocoa. In this speech she mentions the Whirlwind (旋風) from the title of the episode (”On that day I will make Ama Usa An whirlwind blow”). Interestingly, the title of this manga chapter 千の夜を走る風となる (”run 1000 nights to become the wind”) also mentions the wind.

Cocoa also wants to train, and justifies her ability to wake up early with a helpful diagram (which looks as if she’s born directly from bread). To be fair, her justification that bakers wake up early does make sense, and she didn’t seem to have a problem to wake up in time in Dear My Sister. However when staying in Rabbit House, she definitely tends to oversleep, which happened this time too.

Rize and Chiya start training without her, and start playing shiritori to keep Chiya’s spirit up. Honestly this game appears in pretty much every anime ever, so should I even bother to explain the rules? Anyway, Rize names sweets that she supposedly overate, while Chiya names stuff that would be normally served at Ama Usa. However after saying いちご大福 (strawberry rice cake) she continues even though it’s Rize’s turn, saying 黒豆寒天 (black soybean jelly). This ends in “ん” (n) which is a losing turn in shiritori, since no Japanese words start with ん. Nevertheless, Chiya continues listing off Ama Usa desserts and eventually just switches to advertisement mode. Rize compares her to senden car which is a decorated truck that you can find driving around Japanese cities while blasting advertisements really loudly.

Rize introduces her stamp card here (which is an upgrade over her previous motivation techniques, such as the schedule in Dear My Sister), which gives Chiya an idea for an Ama Usa An stamp card. The reward for completing it is 90 minutes of all-you-can-drink piping hot oshiruko, which is a kind of soup made from red beans. The fact that it’s very hot was for some reason omitted from the official English subs, even though that’s what makes the deal especially ridiculous.

Cocoa still wants to train, so she asks Sharo to run with her. However when the morning comes she still can’t wake up on time. When Sharo talks about Chiya taking up jogging there is a montage of Chiya training with Rize, but at this moment Sharo doesn’t know that Chiya trains with Rize, which is why she gets jealous when it is revealed later.

Sharo’s orange phone with the dangling teacup charm was previously seen for example in season 2 episode 7. The exact model is “Kyocera Honey Bee 201K” and as you can see it’s accurately drawn down to the small details.

This is another repeatedly used Gochiusa outdoors location, seen for example in season 1 episode 6 when Cocoa and Tippy meet Aoyama, and in season 2 OP in the shot with Tippy, Anko and Wildgeese. This is where Rize wants to persuade Chiya to continue training, but Chiya isn’t having it. In the manga this is where Rize pulls out her stamp card (almost filled out) to persuade her, but in anime version we never see how many stamps she acquired.

The marathon starts and we see some of Cocoa’s classmates from the previous episode running by. As expected, Cocoa ended up being less fit than Chiya and had to hold on to Chiya’s twintails to keep up. The manga doesn’t actually show them finishing the race, so watching whether Chiya would be able to cross the finish line was quite suspenseful.

After the race, Sharo is disappointed at being left out, but Rize invites her for special training right away. Rize seems to be interested in some triathlon competition and tried to invite Chiya earlier, but Chiya was scared off by the mere name “triathlon”. A triathlon competition features running, cycling and swimming. Sharo is actually better than Rize at swimming (see season 1 episode 8) and perhaps Cocoa is the best at cycling.

We never see how these two trained, but in the manga there’s an additional illustration at page 65 of volume 5 which shows how it may looked like.

Now the “carefree breeze” part of the episode starts, and it’s based on volume 6 chapter 3, making it the first chapter from volume 6 to be animated. Even though there are 9 chapters between part A and part B of this episode, in retrospect it makes a lot of sense that they were put together. For one, they feature a lot of running. And there are a lot of outdoor locations. Such as the park where Cocoa and Chiya meet off-duty Aoyama.

You might recognize it as the same park where Cocoa meets Aoyama for the first time in season 1 episode 6. In season 2 episode 8, Cocoa and Chiya also walk through this park when returning from school.

Cocoa and Chiya think Aoyama is going on a date (this is more explicit in the manga) but it seems she doesn’t have anything to do and just dressed up nicely for the sake of it.

She wants to play tag, which in Japanese is called oni-gokko and oni (a demon) is the one who’s chasing the other players. The role of the demon is relegated to Mate Rin who comes to Rabbit House for the second time this episode to search for Aoyama. This time we get a better look at her business card.

The name of the publisher is Seironsha (生論社 - the first kanji is not visible here, but is visible in the manga). Usually publishing companies in Kirara series are parodies of Houbunsha but not this time. I couldn’t find the reason behind this name anywhere. There’s a word “Seiron” which means “sound reasoning” but it’s spelled with different kanji (正論). There’s also a publisher Rironsha (理論社) although it seems pretty obscure. Also a fun fact: Aoyama’s book Bakery Queen (seen in Dear My Sister OVA) had a different publisher 走兎舎 (”Soutosha”?) which means “running rabbit house”.

Rize, Chino and Rin form Shin-furimawasare-tai (“the new at-their-mercy corps”) which is a reference to season 2 episode 8, as well as a few character songs recorded by Rize, Chino and Sharo as Furimawasare-tai. It seems that Sharo is sidelined a lot in this episode...

Next there’s a montage of them unsuccessfully chasing Chiya, Cocoa and Aoyama, which shows off various locations in town. They are not necessarily just random spots. For example the stairs with the statue and the fountain are actually right next to each other, as can be seen in Dear My Sister.

Then they spot Aoyama riding a gondola (a somewhat fancier one than in the beginning of episode 3) and Tippy falls off Chino’s head. Which doesn’t happen nearly as often as you’d think it would. Last time (season 2 episode 6) it also involved boats...

Cocoa, Chiya and Aoyama make a pact to be caught together, but it falls apart rather quickly, as Cocoa gets lured by Chino. The scene of Cocoa being captured was quite expanded compared to the manga, with Chiya and Aoyama trying to discourage Cocoa from falling into the obvious trap, and then lamenting her “passing”.

Despite the earlier pact to be caught at once, Aoyama and Chiya split up and Rize ends up chasing Chiya. This is where the marathon chapter is referenced, as the teacher ends up chasing the student. Chiya was able to keep up for a while, but hits the dead-end and surrenders to Rize.

Meanwhile Cocoa, Chino and Rin go to some sort of fair, where Sharo finally appears, performing as Phantom Thief Lapin. Rin, being a fan of Lapin comes closer and discovers Aoyama already sitting there, who seems to like Sharo a bit too much...

I also wonder where did Tippy come from, because it didn’t seem like Aoyama carried him while running away earlier. Next we see the infamous rabbit carousel, which looks even weirder when CGI animated.

It’s evening now, but if you look back at Rize chasing Chiya scene it’s clear that the sun is already beginning to set by then, and the sky becomes darker in the Lapin scene. There are all sorts of colorful lights in the background, which creates a proper fairgrounds atmosphere.

The lighting gets even more fairytale-like as everyone gets on the carousel, with bokeh effect being created by all the lights at the fair. Interestingly, the word “bokeh” comes from Japanese where it means “blur”. This entire scene looks quite amazing with CGI and special effects blending in with 2d animation very well. I bet it used up more budget than the rest of the episode, but it was worth it.

One of the interesting shots here was this one, with Chiya riding alone and looking pensively at Rize and Sharo, which made me feel bad for her. At least in the manga version, Chiya was riding with Rin so she didn’t look as lonely.

Aoyama and Rin are reminiscing about their past, and there’s a flashback of Aoyama in high-school uniform thanking Master (Chino’s grandfather) for lending her a fountain pen (a callback to season 1 episode 9 where she loses this pen). Unbeknownst to her, Master is sitting right in her lap, as Tippy. Maybe if Aoyama kept track of when she hears Master’s voice and Tippy is around, she’d have figured it out by now...

Anyway, that was another great episode of Gochiusa BLOOM, and check in next week for my review of the next episode which is coming out this Saturday. Seems like it will have more rabbits than usual...

#gochuumon wa usagi desu ka?#is the order a rabbit?#gochiusa #review

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star-spangledstud · 4 years

Text

The Cure Keeper - One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (female!)reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t quite know how the microwave works. Thankfully, you’re there to help him out.

Word count: 2300-ish.

Warnings: none

A/N: There he is! Tags are open ;) hmu!

Avengers Tower, New York City, USA. 12 May 2018, 1:55 AM.

You don’t remember how long you’ve been reading Shakespeare for when your stomach violently spasms for the third time in less than five minutes. You chose to ignore the growls before, but when the sound is so loud you’re almost sure it can be heard from the floor above, you finally allow your eyes to stray from the beautifully written words. You hear raindrops, thick and translucent as they fall against the windows when your stomach finally settles down, and you hope the weather clears up again tomorrow.

You’re thirsty, the kind of thirst that brings a headache with it if you choose to ignore it long enough. The kind headache that includes pain that leaves a lingering throb behind your eyes, as if someone is pushing against the sockets with their fingers and pinching the nerves with the tips. It’s the kind of headache that sneaks up on you and gets progressively worse as the day continues, only to be relieved under a hot shower or by sleeping it off.

The clock’s illuminated letters worry you because you’ve been at it for far longer than you know is good for you. It’s the rain, you think. It does something to your emotions you can’t quite understand, never have. It causes melancholy to settle deep within your bones, causes you to want nothing but to curl in bed with blankets over your head. That��s why you hope it clears up tomorrow. You prefer the heat of the sun and the rays that warm you from the inside. It’s pleasant, harsh yet gentle, and less constricting than rain.

You get up finally, shoving the covers to the side before slipping out of bed. The floor is chilly, but you don’t bother to locate the fluffy slippers Bruce gave you for Christmas. You take the book with you, yawning when your eyes locate where you last left off.

You’re not surprised to find him in the kitchen at this hour, fiddling with the buttons on the microwave like he’s never used one before. Perhaps, you think, he hasn’t. Usually, he gets somebody else to do the heating and defrosting for him, but everyone is gone now except for you and Bruce, and God knows where on earth Bruce is. He only shows his face when he’s sick of staring at computer screens and stacks of notes, and he doesn’t get sick of working very quickly, so both of you doubt you’ll see him pop up any time soon.

You know Bucky hasn’t heard you come in, because he doesn’t make a move to let you know he’s aware of your presence. The muscles on the side of his neck are tense and his jaw is clenched and for a small moment, you fear he’s going to break the device off its hinges and toss it across the kitchen in a fit of rage.

The window is cracked open just a bit. It lets in the bitter New York breeze, making you shiver when you remember what you’re wearing. In your defense, it was sunny when you put it on. Granted, that was nearly 16 hours ago, but still. Your hair brushes against the side of your face when you cross the wind’s path and it amuses you to know he still has no clue you’re this close to him. For a deadly assassin, he sure is oblivious.

Bucky doesn’t notice you when you walk into the common kitchen, not because he’s so engrossed in trying to figure out how to work the microwave for a bag of popcorn, but because you’re extremely silent, even to a guy with heightened hearing.

Book in hand, carefully flipping the pages every once in a while, you’re sitting at the dining table before he even realizes you’re there and his heart skips at least three beats when he finally does. It isn’t the first time that you manage to sneak up on the man with enhanced senses, because you seemed to almost float through the halls of the compound like a little fucking fairy, and while he curses quietly to himself, Bucky recognizes it won’t be the last.

Speaking of fairies, you look like one too, with strands of hair flowing behind you when you skip happily through the building on days where infinite rays of sunshine illuminate it from all angles. You don’t skip on rainy days, but even then, it’s almost hard for him to imagine your feet are touching the ground you walk on.

He’s stunned completely in place, partially because you managed to get so close to him without drawing his attention from the flickering microwave that’s not behind him, but mostly because you seem to pay him no mind like he’s nothing but a ghost to you. Big and bright doe eyes are on the book, frantically scanning the lines from left to right and he knows you’re getting to a good part because your breath hitches just before you turn the next page.

He’s never been a reader himself, Bucky prefers to watch pictures on the television over words written on paper. You seem to feel the opposite.

Bucky doesn’t want to interrupt whatever’s happening inside your head, your imagination no-doubt fully playing out whatever’s written inside the book scene by scene. It’s a different one from the one you were reading yesterday, that one undoubtedly already finished and placed neatly at the top of your bookcase, which took up the entirety of one of your bedroom walls. He can tell from the cover, which shows the picture of two kissing people, as opposed to the plain purple covered book you held to your chest the day before.

You’re a complete mystery to him.

He’s never seen you in action, nor does he have any idea what you’re capable of other than to look angelic in the kitchen at this ungodly hour and to creep up on people. Oh, and you can read fast. He figured out that when Tony brought in a stack of books for your last birthday and you finished them in less than a week. He thinks he saw you at the gym once, but you were leaving just as he came in and the earbuds in your ear obstructed you from hearing his greeting. He hasn’t seen you down there since.

He’s tried to ask Steve once, three months after becoming a permanent part of the team, but Steve was busy filing very classified and highly important paperwork at the time and the conversation hasn’t resurfaced, not even four months later, when he has done countless missions since then, all without you. He doesn’t want to pry, but his curiosity gets the better of him every time he catches you laughing with Peter over some 21st century inside joke he doesn’t understand. He still hasn’t figured out pop culture references, to his dismay.

The itch to say something is right below his skin, but he’s too mesmerized by the sight of your bare feet crossed over the top of the table, summer dress rose high enough to show your thighs while you’re balancing the chair on two legs. It’s dangerous, it could fall backward and you could slam your head onto the concrete, but you’re doing it so effortlessly he tries not to think about it. Besides, what would he even say to you that would make you stop? He hardly knows you. You probably don’t like him. A lot of people don’t like the Winter Soldier, even though he’s not under mind control anymore. The metal arm is enough to have people cowering away in fear. You, however, Bucky can’t imagine anyone being afraid of you.

Instead of commenting on you potentially cracking open your skull, he swallows the words that burn on his tongue and turns back to the microwave, one hand on his hip in frustration and the other on the buttons. The shrill sound of irregular beeps brings you from your book at last, and an amused expression falls upon your soft features when you take in the scene before your eyes. You set the novel upside down as to not lose the correct page and take in the sight of Bucky’s disheveled appearance for the first time since entering the kitchen.

He’s wearing green sweatpants and a black figure-hugging t-shirt, feet clad in fluffy black socks with anti-slip on the soles so he doesn’t go sliding around the compound at 2 in the morning. His hair is tied in a low bun, but you can tell he’s been messing with it because strands are beginning to fall from the hair tie down the nape of his neck and his ears.

“Need any help with that?” You ask him, voice soft-spoken and quiet as if you’re afraid to wake anyone even though nobody besides the two of you is currently sleeping on this floor.

Just this morning, a Quinjet full of agents left the compound, leaving only you, Bucky and Bruce behind, and Bucky’s pretty sure Bruce sleeps in his lab. He doesn’t mind, because he’s sick of people hearing him shouting in his bed at night, haunted by the nightmares filled with images of horrendous acts he committed against innocent people. He knows you’ve heard him because your room is next door to his, but you’ve never said anything about it. He’s grateful for it.

Bucky jumps, once again not having heard you sneak upon him, and turns his torso slightly sideways so he can look down on you. Because he’s well over a foot taller than you and at least twice as broad. You have dimples even when you don’t smile that seemed to have permanently etched themselves on both sides of your cheeks and tiny freckles that you don’t care to hide with layers of make-up cover your nose and forehead. You’re young, much younger than his 101-year-old self, but he can’t tell exactly how young. 23, he guesses, but what does he know?

“Hello?” You wave your hands in front of his face and he suddenly realizes he’s been staring at you from behind glassy eyes, “earth to James. You need a hand or what?”

James. You’re the only one who calls him that. Nobody calls him James, not even the people that enjoy pushing his buttons. It’s always Bucky, Buck, Barnes, or whatever dumb nickname Tony manages to pull out of his ass at any given time, but never James. He likes it, even though he’s not sure whether he does because it’s a breath of fresh air to hear his first name among a sea of nicknames, or because it’s you who’s saying it. It sounds pure and normal like it doesn’t belong to him, but you’re addressing him alright, not someone else.

“Yeah, sorry,” he breathes out, “technology’s still not my strong suit.”

You smile, exposing pearly white teeth, and he steps aside to allow you access to the device. You have to get on the tips of your toes to reach the timer, courtesy of Tony Stark, who for some reason thought only tall people needed easy access to the damn thing when he had it installed, but you don’t seem to mind. He suspects you’re used to it, being the shortest person in the room. It adds to your childlike innocence, he thinks.

Three buttons are all you need to push for the microwave to light up the flat bag of popcorn lying inside, its quiet hums quickly filling the silent kitchen. You smile again, no teeth this time, and head for the fridge, where you grab a bottle of water before sitting back down in your seat. He’s thankful because he’s really craving a late-night snack and to be fair, he was very close to grabbing a pan from the cupboard and cooking it on the stove. Of course, then, he would have to figure out the induction plates and that’s a battle for another day.

You drink from the bottle, chugging nearly half before placing it down and picking up your book again. You return to your original position, naked toes wiggling while you balance in the chair. It reminds him of one of those circus acts on a rope. The popping of popcorn soothes him slightly, but knowing that the silence will return after it’s done makes him nervous. It’s funny to him because he can’t even remember how many people he’s killed in cold blood and yet you’re the one to make him feel nervous.

Three minutes later, a ding interrupts the mixture of hums and pops and, as suspected, the finished product of Bucky’s late-night endeavor once again envelops the two of you in silence. He picks the bag out of the microwave, careful not to burn his fingers despite knowing they’ll heal fast, unwilling to choose practicality over comfort. He plunges the contents into a glass bowl, making sure to get each little kernel until there’s nothing left but salt and oil inside the bag. He doesn’t bother throwing the bag away. It stays on the counter until the cleaning lady comes by the next morning.

“Want some?” He asks with a mouthful.

It’s a miracle his voice doesn’t crack when he finally works up the courage to speak again because it always happens in situations where he can’t afford to sound like an early pubescent 12-year-old. You glance up from your book, smile hidden behind the tattered pages, and you nod at his question. He assumes that’s why you’re there in the first place, also in search of a late-night snack. You settled for his choice of salted popcorn. You don’t appear bothered enough to look further. Perhaps the popcorn is what you wanted all along, and he stole the last bag from under your nose.

He turns back around and divides the bowl into two smaller bowls, one of which he slides across the table to you. You pick it up with two of your toes, skillfully lifting it through the air with nothing but the strength of your foot, before placing it in your lap. He hears you munching contently seconds later, attention once more returned to your book, and fights the urge to smile at your monkey-like manner of grabbing the bowl.

He thinks of sitting down at the table beside you but changes his mind before he can make a real fool of himself. Besides, you haven’t said anything to indicate you might enjoy his company, and to top it off, you’re reading, and you still look very much into your book. Bucky’s already interrupted you once, not that he regrets it. You’re fascinating to him.

The urge to ruffle your hair is so strong it takes all his strength to keep his arm to his side when he passes you by. You don’t look back when he disappears into the hallway, door slamming shut with the kick of his foot when he enters his bedroom seconds later.

Yeah, he doesn’t know you at all.

tags:

@justine-en

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fic #winter soldier imagin #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avenger x reader #avenger fic #sebastian stan #marvel fic #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #jammywrites

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cutiepisenpai · 4 years

Text

Gifted part 5

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, a tiny amount of angst, mentions of unsubs crimes

That night when Spencer got home he called Y/N to let her know he got home safely, she had insisted he did. But rather than a brief call they talked all night long until they both received calls from Hotch telling them to come in for a case. They rode in together which was not unusual but they were trying to hide their new relationship from the team for now. "Long night, did you get lucky?" Morgan teases Spencer, seeing the bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual. But Spencer just ignores him. Garcia and Hotch brief the team on the case there is a serial killer duo driving across country on a murder spree. They have robbed a bank, gas station, and a diner killing everyone inside and heading west from Kansas on Route 70 with no apparent destination. The last location the duo was seen was in Grand Junction, Colorado so that is where the team is headed. On the jet Y/N and Spencer are sitting side by side that in and of itself it is not abnormal but the arm rest that would usually divide them is up so they sit side by side legs touching, if anyone on the team notices the change they say nothing. “Different states, different venues, different victimology. The only thing these murders have in common is the weapon used and that every location is just off of Route 70.” Y/N says while swiping through her tablet looking at the information they had. “They didn’t hide their faces, they want people to know who they are. If they had hid their faces with them crossing state lines and venues would we have even been called in?” Morgan added in. “Glen Rogers the “The Cross Country Killer” was convicted of stabbing and strangling five victims, one man and four women in California, Florida, Ohio, Mississippi, and Louisiana although he originally claimed he murdered over seventy individuals.” Spencer chimes in. “When we touch down Reid and Morgan go to the latest crime scene, Prentiss and JJ go talk with the victims families see if they know anything, Y/L/N, Rossi and I will head to the local police precinct to bring them up to speed.” Hotch informs everyone.

While the team was investigating in Grand Junction they sent out alerts to other precincts along Route 70 informing them to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. “What is the importance of this highway to them?” Y/N says in frustration watching Spencer map out the geographic profile. “Route 70 crosses through ten states and is 2,153 miles long and crosses through nine major cities in the heart of the US.” Spencer spouts out before turning to see her smiling at him. “What?” “You’re cute.” Luckily none of the other team members were around to hear Y/N comment or see Spencer’s light blush. “Another thing is all the places they have hit; outside of the bank the gas station and the diner are quick stop places they might have traveled a lot beforehand. I wonder what set them off though to go from living an ordinary life to killing dozens of people every few days is a huge escalation.”Y/N continue to question. “It is possible that they have been killing all along but more discreetly and over time the kills became less gratifying and so they escalated. Do you think we should tell the team about us?” That question caught Y/N off guard she was so focused on the case she hadn’t thought about the fact that the team didn’t know. “If you want to but I don’t think it’s necessary that they know everything.” She says not looking up from the file. The phone rings Garcia calling before their conversation could go any further. “Go ahead Garcia you’ve got me and Reid.” “Hello my favorite geniuses I come bearing bad news there has been another hit at a cafe in Richfield, Utah” “They are running out of road if they’re plan is to stay on Route 70.” Reid says. “They must have an endgame in mind, approaching the actual target of their desires. Thanks Garcia” Y/N says hanging up the phone.

A few days later the team finally caught the unsubs holding up a gas station in the last town on the west end of the highway. They never find out the unsubs true motives both declining to answer any questions. The team had just landed back in Virginia Y/N and Spencer had had little time to continue their previous conversation but there was tension surrounding them since then. Although still close in proximity there were no quick quips, no playful banter. While the team is finishing this case's paperwork when Morgan meets Spencer while getting coffee to ask him about it, “What’s going on with you two?” Gesturing in Y/N’s direction. “What? Nothing? Why would you think that something is wrong?” Spencer questions his voice getting higher. “Oh I don’t know for two people who seemingly never stop talking to each other you haven’t said a word to one another in what six hours since we left Utah. And your voice just raised two octaves.” Morgan says. “We can go without talking to each other without it being something weird.” Spencer says trying to keep his voice purposely even. “Well word of advice lover boy just apologize for whatever it is, even if you’re not wrong, it will make your life easier.” “I don’t need to apologize there is nothing going on.” Spencer says walking away with his coffee. When he got back to his desk Spencer couldn’t help but admit to himself that Y/N's silence was bothering him. He knew nothing was wrong. He could understand her reasoning for wanting to keep their relationship private, she was very private about her personal life. It didn’t actually bother him; he just didn’t like hiding things from the team they would find out eventually. He looks over to Y/N, she is focused on the file on her desk working quickly through it. Spencer walks over to her desk, “Hey”. Y/N looks over to him, “Yes?” “Are we okay?” He asks. “Why wouldn’t we be?” “Because we haven’t been talking.” She sets the file and pen down turning to give him her full attention. “We’re talking now. What’s bothering you?” “Morgan said…” but before he could say anything further. “Whoa Morgan said? No, I don’t care what’s bothering Morgan. What’s bothering you?” Spencer starts chewing on his bottom lip. Y/N reaches to grab a hold of Spencer’s hand rubbing her thumb across the top of his hand. “Is it the whole telling the team thing? We can tell them, it’s okay.” Not really thinking about what she had done before doing it, they hear a wolf whistle from across the room. Morgan and Prentiss looking over at them stifling laughs. With a deep sigh, “Well I guess there was no use in trying to hide anything working in close proximity with profilers.” She says. “Sorry, if I hadn’t freaked out they wouldn’t know.” “It’s fine they would have found out anyway.” Sharing a look between them Spencer pulls Y/N’s hand up to his lips placing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I don’t have to tell you how many germs are on the back of people's hands.” She says with a smirk. “No but for you I will risk it.” Garcia had just come out of her lair to hear the commotion and seeing what had just happened she ran over to Y/N screaming happily grabbing her out of Spencer’s grip to pull her into a tight hug and dragging her back towards her office. “Okay you have to tell me everything.”Garcia says. Y/N looks back to Spencer with a pleading look for help while Morgan and Prentiss are no longer able to hold back cackling loudly.

A few hours later paperwork was done and finally having convinced Garcia that there was nothing more to tell they were ready to head home. During the drive Spencer holds Y/N’s hand as they make light conversation. “What do you think about me hanging at your place while we’re off? I still have some clean clothes in my go bag.” He asks. “What kind of girl do you take me for Dr. Reid?” She says jokingly. “No no that’s uh that’s not what I meant. It’s just I want to spend more time with you.” “So you’re coming home with me?” and Spencer just nods in return. When they arrive at Y/N’s apartment she opens the door and they walk in together. When he walks in he takes in his surroundings, her apartment is surprisingly more colorful than he expected. Her furniture is neutral warm greys and browns, but the patchwork pillows and throw blankets on her couches are a variety of colors . Her bookshelf is organized with books lined up starting at red and ending in violet. It reminded him of Garcia although more organized it made sense why the two are so close. He stands there awkwardly not really sure what to do. “So I’m going to go take a quick shower and you can shower after me if you like. Go ahead and make yourself at home.” She says before heading towards a door Spencer can only assume is her bedroom. Not really sure what he should be doing he sets his bags down and walks over to the bookshelf looking at the books she had. From the books he recognized that she has lots of classic literature, mystery novels, biographies, autobiographies, and what he assumes to be young adult and adult fantasy novels. What does catch his eye is her collection of Twilight novels, five books in total. He reaches for the one with just the twilight name and starts reading. He is half way through the book before he feels a tap on his shoulder. When he turns he sees Y/N hair still wet, smile as bright as always, she is wearing a tank top and pajama pants. “So you decided to give it a try.” “What?” Not realizing she is talking about the book. “Twilight you decided to read it.” He looks down at the book in hand. “I don’t understand why so many people like it. It’s ok I guess.” He says closing the book and placing it back on the shelf. “It’s an acquired taste I guess. Well showers available. I left a clean bath towel and washcloth on the counter for you. I’m going to go make something for us to eat.” Spencer nods before picking up his go bag heading towards her bedroom. He hesitates just looking into the room not walking in yet. When he finally walks in he feels out of place like he shouldn’t be here almost as if he is invading her privacy. Finally relenting he walks in deciding to just head into the bathroom and shower. When he gets out of the shower feeling refreshed the smell of something amazing draws Spencer to the kitchen. Walking into Kitchen he sees Y/N humming to herself as she tastes whatever food she is making. He walks about behind her placing a kiss on her cheek, causing her to flinch. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a me thing “I’ll adjust” as Garcia says. So I decided to keep dinner simple so teriyaki stir fry and rice, are you okay with that?” “Sounds good.” They eat while making light conversation and end their night laying on opposite ends of the couch with their legs tangled together.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #reader insert #Female reader #x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #fluff #bau x reader #BAU Team #Penelope Garcia #Jennifer Jareau #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #david rossi

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therokoko · 4 years

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“A bad attitude on set is deadly” - Interview with Alex Rider Director and Producer Andreas Prochaska

Andreas Prochaska on adapting the books, casting Otto Farrant and the challenges of releasing the series in times of Corona

Based on a podcast interview with Austrian news outlet Der Standard titled “Schlechte Laune am Set ist tödlich”. I’ve translated the important bits.

1. How he came in contact with Alex Rider:

Well, that was relatively simple. I have an agent in England, and he sent me the script for the first episode as well as an outlook, a kind of series bible about how things were going to proceed, and I read this and thought: “This works for me. That’s something completely different.”

I mean, especially … you mentioned “Das Boot” earlier, which was the production I worked on before, and which was burdensome in every way, I mean not only because of the time it took but also because of the topic, because we killed, I think, 26 characters in “Das Boot”, not counting extras, and of course that has an effect on you. And then I also filmed “Spuren des Bösen” [Traces of Evil, a German 8 part crime series made between 2010 and 2019, A/N), in which a mother jumps out of a window with her baby, and I was looking for something with a lighter tonality, and something which I hadn’t done before in this particular form, and “Alex Rider” was perfect for that.

I also didn’t know the book series at all. I read it completely unbiased and thought: “This is actually a cool, daring concept – so to speak somewhat exaggeratedly Coming-of-Age meets Jason Bourne....

[This job] was a result of “Das Boot” insofar as someone working for the distributor, Sonar, knew someone at Eleventh Hour – and it’s not just over here that people talk, and when someone says “listen, this guy has done a decent job, take a look” or something, that helps, and in this case it’s probable that the people became aware of me through these contacts.

2. How they approached adapting the books:

Well, it already started with the fact that our series is a mixture of the first book of the book series, namely “Stormbreaker”, and “Point Blanc” – I don’t remember right now whether that’s the second or a later book.

In Stormbreaker, the drama of the protagonist is established with the uncle who dies and the realization that this uncle wasn’t who he appeared to be. Stormbreaker had been made into a feature film which was produced by Harvey Weinstein and for which Anthony Horowitz had written the script, and that was pretty much a lead balloon. And because of that it was relatively clear that everything bad that had happened with that feature film needed to be avoided, namely that everything was totally over the top.

And my job was to [adapt] this material, which actually … I started reading the novel afterwards, and I stopped after 20 pages because I realized that that wasn’t helping me because they are actually books for 12 year olds, or at least Point Blanc is – when I read it I thought: “This is an English, better-quality version of the ‘Knickerbocker Gang’ [a German children’s book series about a group of child detectives, A/N] or something like that”. And the task was to just adapt this material for an older audience and to just draw the characters in a different way emotionally, to draw them in a more realistic way. When you look at the entire season it does occasionally reach into almost absurd spheres, but it was important for me to pave the way for the audience by starting out realistically with a protagonist that could just be the boy next door.

3. How he went about filming a spy series:

Well, the most important thing for me in every story are the characters and to get as close to them as possible. I developed a sympathy for this unwilling hero quite quickly. And, as I said, I tried to make the surroundings as British as possible given my Austrian view of things, and to draw a character that you believe and for whom failure is always a possibility, because I find it incredibly boring when you have these superheroes and you already know that they are never in any real danger.

And this was very important to me also in working with Otto Farrant, who plays Alex, to guide him and direct him in such a way that you get the feeling that it’s possible for things to not turn out well, so that you go on this journey with him emotionally, and as to the rest it is … I don’t approach things mathematically. It’s not as if I feel: “Ok, in minute 10 this particular thing must happen, and in minute 20 this thing must happen.” For me, every story is a journey, and you try to make these journeys as good as possible following your instincts.

Like, for instance, the opening scene. In the script the villain was sitting on a roof manipulating some things on his laptop. And then the thing that happens with the man happens – I don’t want to spoil anything, because it’s actually a pretty nice surprise – and this was only 2 thin pages, and I thought: “Actually, to start this series off in an epic fashion, I’d rather like to introduce another character here, too, to charge this scene as much as possible so that you’re just drawn into this world.” And equally in episode two, that’s so to speak the episode of the test, where he has to pass the test designed to show whether he’s suited for this mission, and the script called for a hut in the woods and a road in which things happen, and I thought: “Ok, if we are dealing with a secret service, the military is not that far off.” And so I told the location scout to look for abandoned military bases, and we ended up on a former nuclear weapons base somewhere in the South of England, which made the producer sweat quite a bit because this was a relatively complex location compared to what had been in the script. But those are the things where I, as a director, can try to create visual appeal for a global audience. The series has been sold to a hundred countries, which comes with certain expectations, and of course you don’t want to disappoint these expectations.

4. On the circumstances of the release and viewer reactions:

It came out in England in the beginning of June, which is sad, of course, because we had planned to have a premiere celebration at some festival, which wasn’t possible because of the current situation. And so this release on Amazon almost felt a little stepmotherly. So I just refreshed the link on Amazon.uk again and again to see how the people reacted to it, and there were actually many very positive reviews in a relatively short time. I think we are at 4.6 out of 5 stars at the moment, whatever that means, …

There are of course, again, total haters who only give one star and say: “What a bunch of crap.” But the majority of people seem to really like it. So hopefully, or it seems we have managed, at least in England, to … that the fans who read it as children watch it, so to speak, in retrospective joy and that they remember the times in which they read it, and still [feel like the series] adds something new.

5. On the casting process:

There was … even before I came on board, they made an England-wide, i.e. Britain-wide casting call. And in England, there are quite a lot of youth theatre projects, which were also contacted. And we received, I think, more than 3000 e-castings, which were screened beforehand. I still saw about 200 e-castings, and then this number was reduced bit by bit. In the end there were 3 people left in the room, one boy was from Game of Thrones, another one was very young – barely over 16, which would have been difficult -, and then, to be honest, there was only Otto. On the one hand, that was surprising because you think that there are loads of great actors in England, that it would be difficult to find the right hero, but in the end it was just very clear. It was an interesting casting situation: there was Anthony Horowitz, then there were the two executive producers from Eleventh Hour, then there was Wayne Garvey from Sony International Co-Productions, and also a casting agent from Sony America, and they all sat behind me like an assembly, and I just took the camera and worked with the actors and just tried to ignore the audience – I also felt like I was being cast again as well in my work with the actors, but … it was, yeah, it was very interesting and exciting.

I virtually grilled him for hours, tried again and again to draw the different scenes in different temperatures and with different emotions out of him, just to see what his range is and how much I would be able to work with him later on in terms of fine-tuning. Because carrying 8 episodes is an extreme challenge for a young actor, and it doesn’t help me if the boy is just dashing and then he carries only half an episode and then breaks apart. That is why it was so important to really test him thoroughly, also in combination with Brenock, who plays his best friend - we tried different combinations – and with Ronke, who plays his confidante in the household, just to try and find the right chemistry. And that was a very exciting and very satisfying process. What was really great was, when he had those three, there wasn’t any discussion anymore at all, we all agreed – I mean it would have been equally possible for Anthony to favour someone else or for Sony to like somebody else better, but it was really incredibly harmonious and unanimous.

6: On what made Otto Farrant stand out:

Well, it was his perseverance. I mean, really, we had one scene which we really tried in 10 or 15 variations, and every time I felt that he understood where I wanted to go. To direct often means to change the temperature of a scene using only short adjectives, and for that you need someone who understands you and who can also implement that. And I just saw that he doesn’t give up that he really has stamina, and that was essentially – apart from the fact that he really comes across as incredibly natural and likeable – the deciding factor for me in the end.

7: On the responsibility of making Alex Rider and the first weeks on set:

Well, I mean the … Alex Rider is, I mean to English fans, a promise like James Bond, on a different level. And you need someone who – and of course you need that with every film and with every series – you need an actor who touches the people emotionally, to whom they can connect. That is, of course, something you can’t … beforehand … I mean, of course you can, as we did, try everything out during the casting process, but you only know whether it really works out after a week of shooting.

And I really – especially in the first 3-4 weeks, in which I was still searching, too – I mean with every production you start on the first day of shooting and you want to throw away all the material you shot on the first day right away and start over on the next day – but he was searching, I was searching, and in a way I became – it sounds a little exaggerated right now – I became a little bit of a surrogate father during that time, because I noticed that he needed a certain type of attention and a certain security that only I as the director could give him. That is, he could come to me with every problem and with every decision concerning the character, and that worked out really well …

8. On the challenge of “carrying” a series as a lead:

As for the “carrying”: on the one hand he has to, so to speak, function technically, i.e. he must be able to, so to speak, deliver every scene, i.e. to know the dialog, to have the right energy, and do that over the course of months - now, luckily, Otto is 21; I don’t think that would have worked with a 16 year old. And that meant that while we were shooting Otto had to read the other four scripts, which were still being written while we were shooting, and he had to comment on them and to learn them by heart, and the transition was seamless. I had to interrupt my shooting schedule for two weeks because we had a location that was only available at a specific time, and so I left the set and flew to Austria to start the cutting process, and on the next day the other director came in and just kept working with him. That means Otto had to adapt to the other director, and that’s a challenge for every actor, but especially for a young actor. ...

I [as a director] could only keep it together up to a certain point in time, until my episodes where done shooting. [...] And of course, when the lead actor is in a bad mood when he comes to the set in the morning, that is at least as bad as when I come to the set in a bad mood. That emanates in all directions. So the strength of character of someone, who also knows … I mean, he doesn’t know yet about the power he may have in the second or third season, when he maybe becomes executive producer or I don’t know … but [it’s important] that you, as a human being, just treat everyone with respect in such an environment.

Source: Der Standard AT

#alex rider #alexrider #andreas prochaska #otto farrant #alex rider tv #ottofarrant

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