#that innocence is his best quality and despite it all he could keep that pure heart and move on with his life...... waugh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captain-barnes-writes · 3 years

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Addiction [1 / 2]

Summary: Lee Bodecker is fascinated by the young girl who works at her father’s store.

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x reader

Warning: Age gap, language, mentions of alcoholism, sexual content, unprotected sex (y’all better wrap it in real life tho bc this is fiction.) SMUT. 18+

Word Count: 4k [NOT PROOFREAD. Any comments, tips, suggestions are greatly appreciated. My Ask Box is always open.]

Lee Bodecker’s cruiser paraded through the town of Knockemstiff. He thought of how life had changed so much for him in the last few months. A man who was still in his lonesome at his age, caused by his extreme focus on his career, wasn’t blind to the fruits the small town had to offer. The more time passed, the prettier the girls got.

Vibrant sundresses, skirts that reached above the knee and them goddamn stockings. With the years the damn skirts and dresses only seemed to be inching up higher and higher up their legs. Most of the girls were timid under his presence. It was a good thing that they knew who he was and were more than well aware of the power he had.

Lee Bodecker was a crook sheriff in the solemn town; a menacing tormented man who most often than not drank his fair share of alcohol on a weekly basis. A lot of the time he was intoxicated with the moonshine he got from people he bribed. The alcohol always knocked him to otherworldly limits that helped him forget all that plagued him. It was his hidden secret, an unhealthy and disappointing one. A secret which he made sure to keep under wraps. Lee always had the election peering over him, taunting and glaring at him. He had to keep up with appearances.

Even with sore limbs, killer migraines and sunken eyes that didn’t want to see any light, he always made sure to clean the cruiser of any leftover canned beers and packs of cigarettes. He even tended to his own home as well, bagging the glass bottles and cans in black trash bags so as to not raise any suspicions. He was trying his best to stop, but it had become a habit that was hard to shake. Trying to kill one addiction had almost started another one, candies being the other culprit. Sweet little candies to quit the thoughts and yearning need for the arduous liquid that he’d come to rely on far too much.

But then there was another addiction he’d come to have for the past months. It was intoxicating but it wasn’t alcohol and sweet and tender but it wasn’t candies. The girl who worked at her father’s store at the center of town was the debilitating new type of obsession he’d come to have. Boyd Smith’s young daughter was as enticing as they came.

The store was small and slightly rundown, but had the necessities most people in Knockemstiff could need. People didn’t need much in the town anyway. But that girl was easy on the eyes and she wasn’t even aware of it. By far the prettiest in the godforsaken town and probably the whole state. Heck, Lee thought her to be the most beautiful on fucking earth. She managed to tug at his heartstrings in such a way nobody had been able to. Not in a long time, anyway.

When she first spoke to him, an actual conversation, she’d told him “stop eating so many candies, sheriff. You’re gonna get cavities.” And Lee had let out a loud laugh, though it hadn’t met his eyes as if the words she’d said had hit a nerve. They had, but he couldn’t admit it. Regardless the soothing tone of her voice, sweet and delicate, had reeled him in even further.

He visited the store so often, knowing when exactly her father would take his day off. Which were starting to climb up seeing as Boyd enjoyed gambling and drinking his fair share as much as Lee and would leave his daughter to tend to the store more often than not. So she’d be there in her most lonesome tending to her father’s store. He looked forward to seeing her doe eyes and skim his eyes about her gentle frame.

He often found himself wondering what she’d be wearing on days he visited. Being the daughter of a store owner meant that money wasn’t much of a problem for her family, and she seemed to be able to feed her affinity for pretty clothes. He always anticipated what she’d be wearing. Y/N usually wore pastel colored dresses, those pretty sundresses that reached just above the knee. The thin material at times clung to her body on the back giving way to the full bottom she was blessed with and Lee felt himself hardening just at the sight of her alone. He wanted nothing more than to tear the material off her and savor the innocence she oozed.

That day when she first spoke to him, he felt even more drawn to her. The delectable taste of the bonbons he’d stop to buy were of no comparison to her. Lee was either salivating or mouth dry like a desert at the mere sight of the store owner’s daughter. On that day when she’d uttered those words to him in hopes of alleviating the rather quiet environment, he had placed the money on her hands to pay for the pack of candies as well as a pack of beers. Their fingers brushed and Y/N had almost shuddered.

“I’m gonna have to find myself a new addiction so that doesn’t happen then.” Lee responded. His eyes had met hers and a gleam of mischievousness and mockery were swirling in them. She swallowed harshly, suddenly feeling small under the presence of the town’s sheriff.

Y/N looked at him. Like really looked at him and noticed things she hadn’t before. For instance, the way his eyes were the color of the town’s nearby lake, a sparkling blue, and when he didn’t have a scowl on his face he actually looked handsome. Crinkles at the end of his eyes showed his age, and even with the soft protruding belly he was actually easy on the eyes.

Y/N blushed under his piercing stare, proceeding to count the change aloud and handed it back to him in a clumsy manner.

“One fifty is your change, sheriff. Thank you.”

“No, thank you darlin’. I’ll stop by another day.” Lee countered, voice heavy as his orbs continued their arduous stare on the girl who couldn’t tear her own eyes away from his. She was flushed, a color that suited her so well with the baby blue sundress she wore. He wanted nothing more than to take her on the back of his cruiser and fuck her into submission.

Despite all his bad qualities, the dominance he liked to have, he wanted her to want it too. What was the fun in fucking somebody who didn’t want it? No, he wanted her dainty hands on him. For her to run them through his hair, grip it as she was a breathy broken mess beneath him. He yearned for her lips to moan his name, for her tightness to grip him like a damn vice. Just one look at her and he knew he was done for.

Lee started visiting the store more often. Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Sundays. She’d be there with her pastel dresses, behind the counter tending to customers in a manner that let him know he couldn’t be the only one thinking of her this way. She was too pure, too celestial to only have one man pining over her. And he was right. He wasn’t the only man looking at her with hungry eyes. There were plenty of them who’d show up at the store throwing flirty comments at her and she’d try her best to deflect them. She’d do so gracefully with shy smiles, an airy laugh while waving them away.

Lee had been there when men approached her in the same manner he did, flirtatiously and with no good intentions. He observed how she’d suddenly become nervous, dropping change on the floor and sputtering out a few sorry’s as she scrambled down to get it from the floor. She’d smile at her suitors, not knowing how to keep them away. How to say no. So when Lee was there, he’d clear his throat loudly and tell them to move along. No more needed to be said, the men would scramble away from the store at the mere words from the sheriff. They were scared of him and the immense influence the town’s sheriff carried just at the tip of his fingers. Lee boasted his power in front of Y/N wanting nothing more than to impress her. He was no longer in his 20s, no longer the slim figure he had 15 years prior, but he’d obtained something that was worth showing off: the power of being an elected official and the town’s sheriff.

Y/N would express her graciousness with a bashful grin and a small thanks would leave her lips, along with a few offerings of free candy or even a pack of cigarettes. She was young, no more than twenty. It was normal for girls her age to have suitors lining up, but she wasn’t an ordinary girl. This was the girl the sheriff was pining over. He was completely and utterly taken by her and he hadn’t even tasted her yet.

Lee wanted more than anything to be the one who clouded the girl’s thoughts. He wanted him to be the first thing she thought of every morning and the very last thought at the end of the night. His own thoughts were consumed by the store owner’s daughter. Her beauty was amplified by the tenderness in which her tone of voice took when she spoke. The way her hair crowned her face so perfectly and the smile lines which took upon her pretty face with a simple little grin. She was addicting and he wanted her so badly. He wanted her as bad as a drop of alcohol.

For Y/N, or any girl her age, it was an honor to be on the receiving end of the sheriff’s admiration. The piercing blue orbs watching with intent, body language screaming that he was taken with her. The way he was an asset to the town, an important one that kept order, that took care of people like her. That warded off danger. She’d be crazy to overlook him and his clear feelings for her.

At first she’d been slightly put off at his constant visits to the store. Sometimes just to buy a single pack of candy. At times he wouldn’t even buy anything. He’d stare at her, initiate conversations that diverted to different topics as if he didn’t want to stop hearing her voice. As if her voice was the only sound he wanted to hear. At times the voice coming from his radio would be the only thing that’d get him to leave the store. He’d huff loudly, bark back an answer, tip his broad-brimmed hat back on his head and wave goodbye to her.

But it wasn’t long until he’d crawled his way into her heart. A slow process that took many months. Gained her trust with conversation and his way of sweet talking. Expensive chocolates and bouquets of roses he’d gone out of town to get would make their way into her hands whenever he’d visit her, almost always finding himself at the right hour when the store was at its most desolate. Just her and him. The beautiful girl was driving him insane, she was slow to give into him. Her shyness a tough barrier to break.

The town would whisper about it. The sheriff wants Boyd’s daughter. The many visits had made their rounds in people’s mouths and being the small town that it was. The townspeople noticed the black cruiser more and more at the front of the store, parked there for more than half an hour at times. And they became suspicious because what could take so long in the small store? It was cramped and only had minimal supplies. All of Knockemstiff was talking about it in a secretive manner. They didn’t want to feel the sheriff’s wrath, didn’t want to light the anger in his eyes. But they knew. Knew that whatever his intentions were with the young girl, he was sure to get her. He was persistent and always got what he wanted.

Those many visits to the store turned into driving her home at nights. Though it was only a couple blocks from the town center, he still insisted on doing it. A girl like you could get kidnapped on these streets doll, Lee would tell her. He couldn’t believe her father would pick gambling with his friends over picking his own daughter up. She deserved to be cared for, tended to in the best way possible. He wanted to be that man for her; someone she relied on. Someone she could come to love.

At least the one thing her father did right was having her lock up the place early when she was in charge of the store. By 7:30 pm, she’d switch the sign to closed and begin the process of cleaning and making sure everything was tidy to open up the next day. Lee would wait outside for her in his car, smoke puffing from his lips as he took drags from his cigarette. When he would see her coming out, the thin material of her dress swaying with the wind and giving way to the smoothness of her legs, he’d close his eyes to gain control of himself and throw the cigarette outside. She never said she didn’t like the smell, never even made a comment about it as the scent lingered in the car, yet he still cared and wanted to be on his best behavior with her.

The drives to her home would take detours to diners, coffee shops and even to different towns as he felt so enthralled by her presence. He wanted nothing more than be able to spend hours with her. She didn’t even have to touch him, didn’t have to kiss him, but a simple gaze from her had his heart beating erratically. When she began talking to him more, not just waiting for him to continue the conversation, he felt the effect she had on him even more. He felt bewitched, as if the girl was his only sanity. It wasn’t the alcohol, it wasn’t the sugary sweets. It was the tenderness of her voice, her gentle frame and her doe eyes.

It also wasn’t long until she was sinking down onto the length of his cock on the back of his cruiser. She slid down in such slow motion with a heartbreaking guttural moan. Her virgin cunt wrapping him in such tightness his breath had hitched and eyes rolled in ecstasy. Her perky breasts right at his face and he’d taken a hold of them with his lips. Ran his tongue on the brown nipples.

“It hurts, Lee.” Y/N cried softly onto his shoulder. Pitiful tears landing on his clothed shoulder. The poor girl was wincing at the intrusion inside her. Lee deeply regretted taking her this way, her on top of him on the back of his damn cruiser. This wasn’t the place for a girl like her to lose her virginity. Hell, it wasn’t the place for any girl to lose their virginity. The seats were uncomfortable and movements were limited with the small space.

“I’m sorry darlin’. Fuck.” Lee cursed, feeling his cock twitch inside the tightness of her walls. She was incredibly tight and he didn’t know if he’d be able to hold on for much longer. He wanted to piston his hips against her sweet place, fuck her until she was crying. But she was already crying on his shoulder and it wasn’t even out of pleasure.

She stayed there for a couple seconds, trying to recover herself while being bombarded with sinful thoughts as she sat on his length. She was able to get a hold of herself, feeling a little better with the sheriff’s large hand drawing soothing circles on her bare back. His pink lips were against hers in soft kisses that had her head swirling. The taste of alcohol present on his tongue was a strong comparison to her minty mouth. Him, so imperfect and troubled. Her, innocent and pure. She picked her head up again. Her doe eyes found him in the darkness of the cruiser, the abandoned lot a few minutes out of town was desolate and dark.

Without any warning, her lower body elevated just slightly and came back down again. Lee let out a shaky breath and his hands had immediately slid down to the smooth skin of her ass, fingers marking the fullness of it. She was a mess above him, mouth hanging open with the sweetest moans falling loose. She began to slowly sink down on him again, building a tortuous movement of raising herself up and coming back down. The pain was still present but the sight of the sheriff being patient and not forcing her to move had been incentive enough for her to push the aching pain away. He was already inside her anyways, her chastity a thing of the past.

Lee’s strong hand grabbed the back of Y/N’s neck and pushed their lips together. She was still adjusting to him, moving slow to his standards, so he wanted to control at least one area of the sinful acts that were taking place. His kiss was rough and messy. His teeth took hold of her plump bottom lip and bit it until she shrieked into his mouth. Her dainty hands fisted at his hair.

The movements of her hips were reluctant and inexperienced. The flow of them slow, faltering even at the discomfort of the intrusion. The prodding inside her still stung and her eyes shut tightly when his cock hit a spot inside her that made her feel weak. Lee noticed and the hold on her ass tightened as brought her down at a faster pace. He wanted to fuck her so hard she would see stars on the roof of the cruiser, but she was still visibly aching.

Lee’s lips traveled down her jaw, kissing her there just slightly to bring any comfort to her, before they made their way to the valley of her breasts. She was bare, the baby yellow dress had been unbuttoned and thrown on the floor carelessly. She was unbelievably soft. Skin so delicate and smooth, breasts and ass etched with white stretch marks. His babygirl was so divine and heavenly and he’d just taken her innocence, her purity, on the back of his cruiser.

He was a bastard for not taking her to his home. On his bed. But this had been so sudden, a date to the outskirts of a different town had turned into them kissing like their lives depended on it. He’d conveniently found the empty lot and he couldn’t wait any longer, feeling as if he didn’t bury himself inside her he would explode.

His hips had began to lift themselves off the cold backseat meeting hers in the middle. She was reduced to a string of breathy moans; a beautiful mess before him. His dick was enveloped in her folds, bathing in her sweet juices. The sounds of drenched skin slapping against one another, loud and stained. The air inside the car was stuffy and lingered with the smell of their arousal. He felt like he’d come any second as he felt the familiar sensation building inside him.

“I want to put a baby right in here.” Lee’s hand stopped at her belly, the skin soft and warm. He was already crazy for her. With a single taste of her and he wanted more. He could picture his girl’s belly huge with his baby growing inside her. Maybe that would get him to stop craving the taste of alcohol, to stop wanting to replace his addiction with candies. He wanted her to be his only sane addiction.

Y/N stuttered at his words. Her eyes had widened and hands gripped his shoulders at the rapid movements of his hips. She was rendered silent as her mind swirled with the possibility of carrying Lee Bodecker’s baby. She didn’t know what to think of it. Girls her age were already carrying babies, married even.

But the townspeople chastised and judged those girls who gave away the very thing that made them good in the eyes of the lord, their savior, and she had done just that. Given away the one thing she’d held onto for more than two decades, cherished it, boxed it off and wrote it off for somebody whom she’d marry. The preacher of her church called it a “gift”, a mere pseudonym, and apparently a more appropriate and contained word, for a girl’s virginity. In her town, chastity from girls, taking care of that one gift for a nice man who would care for them was an important thing. But for Y/N, it was too late to look back.

“You heard me, darlin’?” Lee quipped again, hand grasping her jaw to get her to look at him. His azure eyes were laced with lust, swirling with it as his cock hit her sweet spot again and again. What could she say when he was taking the pain away and replacing it with delicious ecstasy?

“Yes, Lee.” She moaned loudly. A foreign heat had pooled in her stomach, the pistoning of his dick inside her driving her closer to a delirious state. Y/N was bouncing on him with his help and she couldn’t help but look at the man whom she’d grown to be fond of for the last few months. Fond was probably not the right term, but she’d only even kissed a boy before and it had been her senior year of high school, so long ago she didn’t even know what she was feeling. It was immeasurable. The grown man whose advances had made hordes of butterflies swirl in her stomach, made her breath quicken and at the sight of him her heart swelled.

“I’m gonna cum inside that sweet pussy of yours.” His words were foul, hips faltering as he felt the tightness of her cunt constricting the living daylights out of him. She had broken down before him, body spasming as an orgasm ripped through her in shocking waves.

“Oh my god oh my god.” She breathed out loudly, her folds seizing him in a shuddering way. Gripping so tight he couldn’t help but come only a mere seconds after her. His hips jolted, climax hitting him with such strength it had forced a string of curse words from his mouth. His cum seeped inside her like ribbons, painting her walls with his warm seed.

When they rode out their high, bodies covered in salty sweat and breathing somewhat steady, Lee grabbed her face and brought their lips together in another kiss. It was short and wet, his tongue swiping against hers. When he pulled away, he looked at the odd expression etched on her face.

“What am I gonna tell my daddy, sheriff?” She asked softly. Brows furrowed in worry. “It’s so late.”

“Your daddy doesn’t give a damn. He’s probably drunk off his ass while gambling.” Lee bit. He was right about her father, he was most likely drunk or gambling. Probably both. Lee was gonna take care of his girl now. Claim her. He had already taken her most precious gift anyway.

He wasn’t going to fuck her on the back of a cruiser. She didn’t belong there, not tainting the backseat of his car, not in an abandoned parking lot. The next time he fucked her he was going to plow into her on his bed. In his house. Because that’s where her sweetness belonged; tangled in his covers, a moaning mess beneath him. She should’ve been waiting for him to come home from a long day of work, arms out steady for him to fall on, lips ready to take his. She was more addicting than glasses of moonshine, more so than candy. Intoxicatingly beautiful, sweet and innocent.

“You’re mine now darlin.”

----

hope y'all enjoy lol I actually liked writing this so might make a second part. Who knows 💀🥴

Dividers can be found here by @writeyourmindaway. Ty!

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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Who's your favorite Batman villain?

The Penguin. Was gonna put off this ask for a bit but I got surprised today with an incredible rendition of him, so now the dastardly bumbershoot waddled and squawked his way into my thoughts again and I gotta talk about him.

Penguin's not just my favorite Batman villain, he's my favorite DC character and comic book supervillain, the main reason I even want to write a Batman story someday.

I love the imagery that surrounds him, the trick umbrellas and the birds he so lovely dotes after and the WAKs and the Iceberg Lounge, which has become maligned in recent years as a sign of his downfall, but I very much appreciate as a concept in general still. I love a lot of the performances and actors who've taken him over the years. Burgess Meredith and Danny DeVito are some of my favorite performers of all time, Paul Williams has a wonderful voice and starred in my favorite film of all time. Tom Kenny, David Ogden Stiers, Robin Lord Taylor, Penguin's just had such great, terrific performances and adaptations. Batman Returns is my favorite Batman film by far and it was what got me to start paying more attention to Oswald.

I love the roles he can play in any given Batman story and how he's managed to endure all of his falls from grace by becoming an indispensable part of Batman's worldbuilding. I love his varied dynamics with Batman and Riddler and Catwoman and Gordon and his henchmen and those who get close to him. I love his style and the way he conducts himself when he's allowed to be more than just a generic mob boss. Penguin's design has, by simply staying unchanged over the decades, gone from "common rich person wear draped over a funny cartoon gangster" to "he is so out of touch and desperate for respectability that he dresses like an 1930s capitalist caricature, like a little kid's idea of what a rich and respectable man looks like, and Penguin's still stuck in that mindset". I love how absurd and plausible he is.

I like that Penguin can very easily fit just about any kind of Batman story, from the campy supervillain plots to the gritty urban crime ones. You can tell stories about Penguin falling in love, pretending to be legit because he doesn't want his aunt to learn he's a criminal, and opening up a comedy act with a talking penguin, or stories about Penguin terrorizing the city with giant robots and guided missiles and driving people to suicide. I like that he's a character who both relishes in his lifestyles of supervillain and crimelord alike, and yet is perpetually restless because the minute he acquires what he wants, he immediately starts wanting something else. He could have Batman and the Batfamily and all other supervillains wiped out and have Gotham in his pocket and maybe even become President of the United States, and he'd still want more. Because Oswald is nothing but wants, the wants of a traumatized manchild in a funny costume throwing money and toys and brute force and tantrums at the world until it makes sense, which only makes him far too fitting as a Batman villain.

Everyone forgets that Penguin was canonically the first villain to ever successfully escape Batman at the end of a story, completely bypassing the usual "villain swears revenge behind bars" ending to instead escape scot-free, and went on to establish himself as one of his biggest, most inventive and most cunning villains, second only, if not equal, to Joker. I love that he's ruthless and inventive and classy and cunning and brutal and how his main trick is using the fact that everyone underestimates the short fat man to his advantage. He's taken traits that got many of us in real life relentlessly tormented for them, and he uses them to pull the wool over those who think they are better than him.

It'ss a trick that works because even in real life people can't stop looking at this weird and silly little man and think "that guy's too silly for a Batman villain, he's not a murder clown or musclebound monster, what's he gonna do" and, yeah, that's the point, that's been the point from day one, he doesn't look scary or intimidating or even that evil, and he's the guy who pulls the rug under supergenius fighting machine Batman and becomes the top crimelord of Gotham City, a city ruled by terrors and manias and monsters infinitely bigger and scarier and stronger than he is, and he STILL made it to the top and he STILL maintains it, time and time again even when newer and flashier and scarier villains come and go. Batman is, at it's core, a fundamentally absurd character, and Penguin acts as a reminder of that. Because the minute we accept a man can terraform himself with training and money into a living legend on the level of gods, there's no reason why a tiny fat man with similar drive and resources can't likewise throw his weight with monsters and warriors far above his station.

Despite how ridiculously often he's disrespected by writers and fans alike, how far he's fallen off his former position in Batman's Rogues Gallery, and how often he's used as just a punching bag for assorted Bat-people, Penguin never goes away. He's the biggest survivor of all of Batman's villains, more so than the genuinely immortal ones, because he's the cockroach that won't go away no matter how many times you flush it.

Because once you get past the piles of money and the lounge fortresses and the armies of goons and the piles of cartoony gadget toys not too dissimilar from Batman's own, what the Penguin has is brains, and spite and hatred on a scale no other Batman villain has. He hates Batman, because Batman is nothing but yet another bully who thinks he can push Oswald around just because he's bigger and stronger. He hates the lower class for it's unsophisticated brutes and boors that made his childhood hell. He hates the upper class that's rejected and also tormented him since infancy, that he desperately spent so long trying to be a part of. He hates the monsters and supervillains he works with and has to associate with to stay alive. He hates the city that he fights to rule over tooth and nail.

And although he may never admit it, he hates himself, because he'a short paunchy man with a beakish nose who's brutal and immoral not just because those are the cards life dealt him, but because he likes what it affords him too much to give it away. Because he's never going to have the love and acceptance he desperately craves, he will never be able to accept it or keep it. Because he can never fully be a gentleman, or a monster, but instead a sad mix who belongs in neither of their worlds. Because at the end, he doesn't look like anyone else. He looks like one of him.

And still, I like Penguin because he's a Gentleman Villain. The one Gentleman Villain of Batman's rogues gallery, even if that's faded from a lot of his recent appearences that pushed the crimelord aspects to the forefront. He dresses like a gentleman thief, he's canonically a huge A.J Raffles fan, he's one of the most cunning brains of Gotham, he's got the money, resources, and adventurous spirit. Problem is, he's The Penguin. And suddenly, all that he has becomes overblown, outlandish, theatrical, and out of touch purely because it's him trying to do all those things. He's a gentleman adventurer gone rogue, the Count Fosco of the DCU, and that only makes it amusing, even endearing, when Penguin does engage in the swashbuckling antics he's so fond of.

When all his plans go to hell and so he starts fencing Batman, or when he commands henchmen with superflous fancy language, or even when Oswald gives the whole "hero" thing a shot and we see he's actually not bad at it, maybe he actually could have been one if it wasn't for the bile drowning his heart and the hellscape that warped innocent young Cobblepot into Gotham's Penguin, a name that immediately denotes something silly and ridiculous, and he carries it with pride, because he will make you respect that name.

And that's just a couple of reasons. I really, really love this character to the point of obsession and the main reason why I ever wanted to write stories for DC was to get to write Penguin and at least try to do the character a little more justice. But if nothing else, Penguin endures, regardless of what happens to him, in and out of universe. If nothing else, that's a very admirable quality in a supervillain. Oswald is the best.

#replies tag #comic books #batman #batman villains #the penguin #oswald cobblepot

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simkjrs · 2 years

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How about Kusuke for that ask meme? Would love to hear more of your thoughts on that little freak 😊

favorite thing about them

im kind of obsessed with his misanthropic mad scientist ways. theres nothing funnier about kuusuke than his complete lack of consideration for the happiness or quality of life for the rest of the human race. just look at him <3

least favorite thing about them

i hate all the incest jokes baked into his character. asou shuuichi had a perfectly interesting and compelling guy without that so why did he have to ruin it.

aside from that i think its really sad when he regularly invades saiki's privacy & bodily autonomy (such as adding a trigger to saiki's second limiter device without telling him. someone introduce kuusuke to the concept of informed consent please). i do think that this is one of the most interesting points of conflict between him and saiki tho so i wish asou shuuichi did something more with it where saiki gets a character arc learning how to assert his boundaries after living his whole life unable to respect others boundaries (due to x ray and mindreading) and without others respecting his (see: his dad and kuusuke)

favorite line

brOTP

i <3 saiki and kuusukes fucked beyond all repair brothers relationship i love how they care about each other but this fixes nothing and makes everything worse. its so interesting how they shaped each other growing up, and how despite resenting each other they also give each other things they cant get from anyone else -- kuusuke finding a "playmate" who can challenge him and stimulate his creativity, kusuo having someone he can rely on when it comes down to a crisis (such as his limiter breaking or needing to find a way to stop japan from being destroyed by a super volcano explosion).

of course, the fact that kuusuke cant be relied on in any other circumstance is also what makes the relationship interesting i think. like if kuusuke isn't helping saiki fix a problem, then he's the one causing all of saiki's problems. i really wish that we got more exploring their relationship.

that said it's really hard to enjoy them whole heartedly when all the incest jokes keep sneaking in. sorry i keep bringing this up but i really do hate them so much. like either commit to the incest/harrassment plotline and do your best to thoughtfully & respectfully portray the consequences of that trauma, or just leave it out. dont make it into a joke LOL ... literally why does anyone ever think this is funny

OTP

kuusuke x his pure & innocent disregard for humanity <3

nOTP

i see people shipping him with teruhashi makoto sometimes and its like ... why ... would you think that putting two creeps together would fix anything about them. they wouldnt make each other worse in a fun or interesting way. and they wouldnt even be funny

random headcanon

i think that kuusuke stopped resenting saiki shortly after he left home to go to cambridge because suddenly he was the smartest most genius most admired person in the room again but it was so boring because no one could challenge him and there was nothing to surpass. since life felt very boring & meaningless like this, i think that made him reevaluate his relationship with his brother and he realized that as much as it frustrated him to lose it made him happy to have a goal to always strive for. so i think after that, his ill will towards saiki mostly disappeared ... though he still has deadly serious competitive intent.

that said i think saiki never realized kuusuke's change of heart because kuusuke invented the telepathy canceler. and i think kuusuke wasnt interested in correcting saiki about how he felt now, and i think kuusuke didnt give much (if any) consideration to how it would make saiki feel to keep living under the misconception that his brother still hated him but had simply found a way to hide his plotting, forever. in conclusion: kuusuke is kind of the worst. LOL

unpopular opinion

ive already said all my unpopular opinions. my extremely niche opinion is that if saiki kuusuke and enoshima junko were born into the same world they would perfectly cancel each other out because what they both wanted was to fulfill their boredom and what they both did to do that was raise the stakes on other people until they managed to stop them (or didnt). kuusuke and junko would become perfect rivals. they would be like bbc sherlock and moriarty if they were high schoolers. they would be like L and light if L was completely amoral and just devote to winning the case for the sake of winning, and light was also completely amoral and just killing people to see what would happen. and they would be exactly like this post

song i associate with them

HMM i don't really have one. if i had to pick one... primadonna by marina. LOL

favorite picture of them

i cant pick one so you get three.

#ask #ask game #long post

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

Text

Drive Me Insane

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid is always getting on your nerves. Tensions rise and one day, he pulls you into the file room and snaps… just not in the way you think….

A/N: Early-Season-Twelve!Spencer. this is full-on HATE SEX fulfilling this request by @safertokiss and this request by @mggswhore. It’s rough and v sexy and angsty. Gif is mine! Enjoy! <3

tags: smut, penetrative sex, hate sex, enemies to lovers, angry sex.

RATING: EXPLICIT

Words: 4,363

MASTERLIST

You fucking hated him! You HATED him!

“REID!” storming out of the elevator, you headed straight for the desk of the asshole who had pulled the worst prank ever. “What the fuck is this?!” you screamed, slamming your coffee cup down on his desk, the beverage slightly spilling onto his work papers.

“Hey!”

“Don’t you fucking ‘hey’ me!” you were trembling with anger, bouncing on the balls of your feet and trying to ignore the people staring around you. “Explain yourself!”

The little cockfuck put on the most innocent expression you’d ever seen him manage.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, more to the onlookers than you. “Is there a problem?”

“Did you put him up to this? Did you tell him to write that?”

“Write what?”

Huh. He actually looked genuinely confused. But you weren’t buying it. You knew how evil he could be, always teasing you, correcting you, moving your stuff around, pulling pranks. If it weren’t for his stupid, pouty face, you’d slap the look right off of it. Oh, and you were coworkers but that was honestly more of an afterthought.

When it came to Spencer Reid, there was nothing that could stop you from exacting your revenge. Except maybe Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Who, conveniently, hadn’t arrived yet.

“Don’t bullshit me, Reid! You fucking told the barista downstairs to give me some phony number! What’s the joke? I call it and it’s a phone sex line? A suicide hotline? What?!”

But Spencer simply stared at the cup, mouth dropped open and staring at the ten neatly written digits gracing the side of your coffee cup, a little heart to the side of them.

Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, “I didn’t… I didn’t do this, Y/N.”

A refute to that was on the tip of your tongue but he suddenly looked at you and you noticed a slight tint to his cheeks that for some reason, had you believing him.

“Wait…. You mean…?”

“Yep.” He stood suddenly, chair flying out from behind him with the force with which he stood. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer. Excuse me,” he grunted, storming off down the hall, leaving you thoroughly perplexed.

“What��. What just happened?”

Tara approached you, placing a light hand on your shoulder.

“You got a dude’s number and thought it was a prank by Reid. Happens to the best of us.”

Well, yeah, that was rather obvious. You were more referring to the fact that he had stormed off once he came to the same realization.

But, as always, before you could think for too long, Garcia sent out a mass text alerting you to a new case. Your contemplation would have to wait for another time.

“Maybe he just didn’t want anyone to see him?”

The team was gathered around a roundtable in the dingy police office of Wamego, Kansas, discussing why the unsub was dumping the bodies so far on the outskirts of town.

“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Reid blurted, gesturing toward a map of the area. “There are more than enough areas to hide a body within the town’s limits. Plus, he dumped in the middle of the day so being seen isn’t his issue, he can hide easily in plain sight. The edge of town somehow connects to his comfort zo…. What?”

He trailed off once he noticed the grumpy look on your face. It wasn’t like you could help it! He was always refuting every little thing you said and constantly interrupting everyone.

“Well, Reid, if he’s so interested in the edge of town, why are all his victims abducted from the town square?”

Spencer stepped closer to you, eyes narrowing and lips turning downward.

“Maybe, Y/N,” he bit back, “he’s not picking these women at random, but targeting those he sees that look so obviously vulnerable. His end goal is to dominate them.”

“Seriously? Alexa Wells was a blue belt in karate and Tala Williams took a regular self-defense class. There was nothing vulnerable about these women at all!”

“If you weren’t so busy fretting over their physical capabilities maybe you would have noticed, they both possess a petite stature, making them more susceptible to attack.”

He was towering over you and staring at you with anger in his eyes. You, too, were having to fight back the urge to scream at him.

“So, what, you’re saying everyone with a small stature is asking to be dominated!”

“Nope, just you.”

He looked more shocked at his words than you did, taking a step back and glancing around the room for a moment before referring back to the map.

“I’m-I’m saying that the-the victims were all-all small—of-of small stature and that’s a-that’s a connection. Excuse me.”

And he bustled out of the room, leaving behind an audience of your coworkers whose gaze fell on you. Uncomfortable with the weight of their eyes on you, you excused yourself as politely as you could despite the anger and confusion rising in your throat. You didn’t return until you managed to compose yourself, and by then, the team had a new lead and Reid’s outburst was forgotten.

But not by you.

If the word ‘hate’ was a face, to you, it’d be Reid’s. To be fair, his face did possess a very… slappable quality. But, of course, you’d never act on that impulse. He never could quite push you to that edge. But, oh god, he got close sometimes.

Jesus. It was nearly 6:00 AM and you’d gotten a text about fifteen minutes ago from Garcia, summoning you in. Now, sitting in the briefing room, your thoughts had begun to wander into very vulnerable territory.

“Y/N?”

His voice grated your ears like sandpaper, the perfect tool to snap you out of your reverie. Why the hell did he have to arrive so goddamn early?

“Yes, Reid?” you replied, putting on the most bored voice you could manage, not even bothering to spare him a glance as he sat down in the seat immediately next to you, shrugging off his shoulder bag.

“Why are you here so early?”

You looked at him, startled by the question. Who the hell was he to ask you that? He came in early all the time and you never bothered him about it.

“None of your business,” you snorted, glancing down at your phone, trying to get back to reading your article. But with Reid in the room, it was hopeless.

“Jeez. Okay. I was just asking a question. You know, when someone is so defensive it actually has a lot to do with their social life. Usually, they aren’t getting enough mental stimulation outside of work and in rare cases, it attributes directly to whether or not they’ve been receiving enough pleasurable intercourse.”

He nodded curtly as he finished, his own gaze dropping to a regular manilla folder, not even taking in your expression of pure shock. He must’ve found your silence startling enough because soon after, he looked up at you, crooking an eyebrow.

“What?” Quickly, his expression shifted to a mix of understanding and his cheeks went red so quickly. “Oh! I wasn’t saying that-that-that you weren’t… that you aren’t… I mean, not that you are… I just mean that….”

“What, you’re saying I’m not getting fucked properly?”

His mouth dropped open just as Rossi and Alvez entered, conversing loudly enough to miss your snarky comment. Clearly, though, they could detect the charged atmosphere in the room.

“Are we interrupting?” Rossi, the bastard, asked coolly, taking a seat as Luke did the same.

“Nope,” you smirked as more of the team entered. “Not at all.”

Although there was a pressing case to focus on, you couldn’t help but glance at Reid a little more often than usual.

“Alvez, Lewis, you two talk to the parents. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the BDSM shop and see what they can tell us about the whip.”

The urge to roll your eyes and groan was almost too great. Being in a car with Reid for too long gave you hives and as you typed the address into your phone, you glared at your phone for displaying the time to get there as a whole half hour. In a car. Alone. With Reid.

Strangely enough, it had been about a week or so since he’d made any snarky comments to you, seemingly preferring to keep his distance. You wondered what being stuck in a car together would be like. Hopefully quiet. Silent, ideally.

You really shouldn’t have raised your expectations.

“So, the whip is actually a pretty common item so if he paid with cash, it’s likely there won’t be much of a trail. If you wanna wait in the car, I understand, I can just run in and get the info.”

Huh?

“Why would I wait in the car?” That might’ve been the first genuine question you’d ever asked him excluding when you’d first met and asked his name. Since then, it had been a whirlwind of sarcasm and rhetoric.

“Y/N, it’s a sex shop,” he said, a slight glance over to you as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel slightly.

“And?”

“Well… I mean, you don’t wanna go in there.”

“Says who? Reid, it’s part of the job. I’m not scared of sex like you are.”

That got him stuttering, huffing and puffing, and trying to backtrack so fast he might as well have thrown the car in reverse. But you had arrived before you knew it, settling into an empty spot right in front of the store.

“I-I’m not s-scared of… of… I’m not scared of that!”

Unbuckling your seatbelt, a surge of confidence rushed through you as you exited the car, quickly quipping, “Oh, I can tell judging by how easy it is for you to talk about. It’s okay, Reid. Not everyone can handle dominating someone. Certainly not someone as submissive as yourself.”

As you entered the shop, you could feel his tension next to you the whole time you questioned the woman at the front desk. But there was something… off about it. It was like he wasn’t nervous being in the shop, he had no issue making eye-contact with the witness, speaking calmly and coolly, and not avoiding looking at the various sex toys scattered about. No, he was nervous about something else. Something you had said?

But it wasn’t like you didn’t tease him ruthlessly and regularly anyway. Had you struck a nerve? What was different?

Maybe he just didn’t like talking about sex stuff with you. It made sense, he hated your guts. Still…. There was something.

Something that didn’t get brought back up again until a week later, when the two of you were sitting at your desks during a lunch break with everyone gathered around, conversing quietly. Then Alvez had to go and stir the pot like the little pot-stirrer he was.

“Well, I’d have killed to see how Reid acts in a sex shop. Hey, Y/L/N, please tell me there were lots of dildos,” he joked, earning a laugh from the majority and a groan from Reid.

“Actually, he was much less freaked out than I expected. I assume it’s because he didn’t know what half the stuff in there was.”

Sparing a glance at Reid, you were startled to find he wasn’t looking away in embarrassment, but staring straight at you, glaring daggers.

The laughter bubbling up inside your throat at the teasing immediately subsided, replaced with a sudden rush of… fear? No, that can’t be right. You weren’t scared of Spencer Reid. The guy was harmless. Right?

“Can I talk to you privately, Y/N?” he hadn’t said it like a question you could say no to, rising from his seat and storming off to the file room.

Resistance was futile, and in this case, unnecessary, because whatever Reid had to say to you in that room, you could easily turn against him. Ricocheting his remarks came so naturally sometimes you didn’t even notice you were doing it.

You entered the filing room, fully expecting to see Reid shuffling papers and mumbling, working up the courage to yell at you.

Which is why you didn’t expect to be shoved up against the door as it slammed shut behind you, Reid pinning his hands on either side of your head, holding your faces inches apart. Your breath left and so did the words you’d been rehearsing on the short walk to the small room. You felt your mouth drop open and your gaze unintentionally fell to his lips. It took you a minute to realize he’d been talking. Desperately trying to play back what he’d said, you felt your earlier anger rise back up in your throat.

“What’s your problem with me? Huh?” he was unrelentingly forcing you to meet his eyes. “Why are you always coming after me for the stuff I say? Jesus, you’d think you’d show me a little compassion sometimes, but nooooo. Little miss princess just gets off so good making the team punching bag feel like a piece of shit.”

At his words, you finally found your voice.

“Me? You’re always the one fucking correcting me and bossing me around! You pick fights with me all the goddamn time!”

“Name one time.”

“Hmm, let me see, the time you told Garcia you needed her to hack my phone for a case! The time you fucking told me I was asking to be dominated. Just last week you assumed I didn’t wanna go into a sex shop because, what, I’m too innocent? Or maybe you just want to think of me that way and you hate that it’s not true. Hey, how about the time you pulled me into the file room and pinned me up against the door like a goddamn butterfly?”

You were getting to him, you could tell. His face had slackened but his gaze was much stronger, scrutinizing all of your features carefully.

“You know what else? You’re the only one on the team that calls me by my first name. And I have no idea why! Is it just to bother me or do you actually just not care about giving me any indicators that you respect me? I’ve been a profiler for ten years now and I still can’t read you for shit! You’re so fucking hot and cold you give me freezer burn! Christ, Reid. Sometimes I can’t tell whether you wanna fight me or fuck me!”

Three seconds. That was the time it took you to register that his lips were suddenly on yours, biting and nipping, tongue fighting to get into your mouth.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCK!

Okay, listen… Normally, if someone you hated with all your heart pressed you up against a door and started to make out with you with the force of a thousand suns, you’d do what any sane person would do; shove them off of you and kick them in the junk.

But Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.

So, when you suddenly found your hands grabbing his face and pulling him in closer to you, opening your mouth enough to let him devour you whole, it wasn’t all that much of a rational decision. In fact, a whole series of irrational decisions happened in quick succession.

He was pressing you against the door so harshly, it felt safe to let your feet leave the ground, legs coiling around his hips and gasping into his mouth as you felt his length brush your inner thigh. Fuck, he was hard. Oh god. The pressure must have caused your mind to really comprehend what in the fuck was happening here.

Spencer Reid was kissing you up against a wall at work. But that wasn’t even the weird part. The weird part was... you actually liked it.

So, pushing down the thoughts of what a terrible idea this was, your hands gripped the lapel of his suit jacket, frantically pushing it off of his shoulders. As it hit the floor, he groaned, seemingly realizing where you wanted things to go.

He pulled back, tearing open the buttons of your blouse, words falling from his beautifully swollen lips.

“You’re such a goddamn tease. All the time. Wearing these tight little tops and expecting me to not rip it off of you?” he tsked, pulling open the top to reveal your bra, stopping in his tracks at the sight.

He was taking too long. Too fucking long.

Your hands reached for his belt, hurriedly sliding the leather from the strap, snapping it off of his pants and pushing them down.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this to happen,” you snarked as he picked you up and plopped you down on the small metal table in the center of the room, brushing aside all the papers atop it. Your back hitting the cool metal made you hiss but you went on, “I bet you brought me in here because you knew if we were alone together for more than five seconds, you’d snap. You wanted to fuck me, Reid.”

You were trying to sound like you still had some wits about you, but the truth was, they’d all flown out the window the moment his lips met yours. Those fucking lips.

He didn’t bother denying your claims, opting to roughly pull down your skirt and underwear, one strong hand tightly holding your bare thigh the whole time. Those fucking hands.

“Maybe,” when he spoke again, his voice had dropped two octaves, a register you’d never heard before that sent a flicker of pure delight through your veins, “you’re projecting, Y/N. I think you’ve wanted me to hold you down and fuck you this whole time. You’ve wanted me to shut that pretty little princess mouth up in any and every way possible so you rattle off teases and insults to make up for the fact that you’re just a little whore who is begging to be fucked.”

You heard your moan echo around the room before you even noticed you’d opened your mouth. Quickly, but not quickly enough, his huge hand snapped over your lips, stopping any further sounds from escaping. His other hand dug into his pants pocket and you could hear the crinkle of tin as he rolled on a condom.

All you heard before the world disappeared was, “Shut the fuck up,” as he slid into you in one perfect thrust, his left hand roughly digging into your hip as he grunted with the effort of holding back. But that wasn’t what you wanted. That wasn’t the point of this. And you told him just that.

“Reid,” you groaned through his hand and he relinquished his hold, “fucking fuck me!”

Apparently, you didn’t need to tell him twice.

He didn’t even bother trying to ease you into it, roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you against him with each sharp thrust. It took all you had to keep from screaming as a wonderful mix of pain and pleasure pushed you closer to the edge. Jesus, you were close to coming already after barely a minute.

It was like you said, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.

Still, you weren’t quite ready to submit to him completely. There was still quite a bit of fight left in you.

“I bet you’re loving this. Thinking you’re finally in charge of me. I got news for you, Reid,” grabbing his shoulders, you pulled him down so you could whisper in his ear, relishing in the hiss he emitted at the change in angle. “I’m more than you can handle.”

Saying he went wild would be an understatement. He somehow managed to lift you all the way up off of the table, spin you around, and reenter you sharply within the span of two seconds. This time, you couldn’t stop the pathetic mewl that left your throat at the feeling of him inside of you.

Actually, what probably got you was the horrible, dirty things he was whispering in your ear unrelentingly as he pounded into you, one hand on your hip and the other yanking your hair back roughly.

“You think I don’t know how to handle a spoiled little princess? Tell me, who’s the one moaning and writhing underneath me? Huh? Oh, can you not answer because I’ve got my cock buried in you?” He slipped the hand that was in your hair down to your cheeks, squeezing and forcing them into a pucker. “Answer me.”

You could feel how close you were but his thrusts were so slow and patient now. He wasn’t nearly as close as you were. If you were doing this, you were making him come first. You needed to keep some power. You did decide to relinquish a bit of control to him.

“P-Please, Reid….” you whispered, smiling to yourself as he responded exactly as you’d expected.

“Please, what?”

He was moving so slowly now, barely giving you any relief, slowly pushing in the tip only to pull out hastily, leaving you grinding back on his for more.

“Please… please tell me you don’t actually believe that,” you snarked, pleased with the way he suddenly froze, seemingly not expecting to hear that from you.

Your shock, however, didn’t last long. Because after a very pregnant pause, you heard the rush of air come from behind you. Because you felt a sharp, sudden, stinging pain on your left asscheek. Because Spencer Reid had just fucking spanked you.

“Ahh!” you yelped as the heat flared up your body as he sped up his thrusts, entering you deeper and deeper each time.

“I think someone needs to teach you a lesson about what happens when you mouth off to the wrong person. This,” he added with a particularly sharp thrust, “is your punishment, princess. You actually thought I couldn’t handle dominating a little brat like you? You’re the one begging to be filled up like a little whore.”

“Reid,” you let the name slip, feeling yourself slowly giving in more and more the further he pushed you.

“Say my fucking name, princess.”

“Ah! Spe– fuck! Reid!” you keened, happily letting your body give in to the feeling of being totally and utterly used by him, barely noticing almost calling him his first name.

“Tell me, princess, do you even know how tight your little cunt is bouncing back on my cock? I bet I feel so big inside you. I guess you finally got what you needed: to be fucked properly. You’re lucky that I’m the one to do it. I know just how to handle you.”

You groaned as he snaked a hand around you to circle your clit relentlessly, barely managing enough energy to squeak, “I hate you.”

There was anger behind the words, but not honesty. And Spencer knew. It was clear as he leaned in to whisper in your ear a final time, he also knew exactly how to push you over the edge.

“Prove it.”

And in an instant, your climax hit you, washing over you like a waterfall, feeling your walls clench and tighten around Reid’s cock. Drowning in the pleasure of your orgasm, you didn’t even notice the way he grunted as he spilled himself inside of you.

You definitely didn’t notice the way he planted soft kisses to your shoulder blades as he pulled out, whispering small strings of praise. Or the way he stroked your thigh as he carefully pulled your underwear back up. You definitely didn’t notice that.

You hadn’t quite regained your energy, but you knew you had to stand up. Every muscle in your body, however, begged you to collapse to the floor. Luckily, Spencer caught you, prompting you to look up at him, trying not to show the hope that was so obviously shimmering in your eyes.

Strangely, he seemed to be looking at you in a similar sense. Not exactly hopeful but… worried?

“You okay?”

You nodded weakly, breaking the eye-contact and pulling away from him, scurrying to put your clothes back on.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

You knew you sounded curt but you just couldn’t bring yourself to express emotion right now. It was stupid, you knew, but in the heat of the moment, you had felt… connected to him. In a purely animalistic way, surely. In a ‘fuck me so hard you impregnate me’ way.

Pushing the fact that that thought got you a little excited to the back of your mind, you turned back to Reid who had also fully redressed. He was shifting on his feet, avoiding looking at you fully.

“Well, now we know what to do next time we butt heads,” you joked, smiling softly to diffuse the tension.

He laughed but you could tell it was superficial. There was something the two of you weren’t saying and you were both waiting for the other to say first.

“We should probably get back out there, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, coughing and doing a ‘ladies first’ motion towards the door.

“Thanks,” you muttered, opening the door slightly, then glancing back at Reid, seeing him looking at you with the words neither of you would say.

“Hey, Spencer?”

He tried not to let his shock show but he did a horrible job. You couldn’t blame him though, it was the first time you’d ever called him by his first name.

“Y-yeah?”

“I… I don’t hate you.”

It wasn’t much, but he smiled liked it was everything. Maybe, in your own special way, it was.

“I don’t hate you, too.”

Giving him a little nod of your head, there was no way you could suppress the joyous smile that lit up your face as you exited the file room. Your coworkers would surely be suspicious, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. Spencer was the only thing on your mind the whole rest of the day and you were sure he’d stay there well into the week.

After all, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane. Now, you knew, in more ways than one.

TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST

(sorry if the tags aren’t working! i’ve been having some trouble)

@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @cielo1984 @thupidalthea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid@aloha-ashley-taylor@justchiara-02@spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin@dreamy-reid @brokenanxiety @thatsonezesty13 @psychedelic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck@awhollandx@baddreamsandbrokenhearts@simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam@gejatume@url-under-construction@krymson182@addie5264 @pinkdiamond1016 @gublergirls @georgia4287 @thineeminnie @untainted-memories @cm-is-kinda-cool @le-vie-en-amour1 @happyiidiot @wechillingcoop @blankets-for-bees @stewie-castle @dolanfivsosxox

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #matthew gray gubler #fanfic #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fandom #etherrealoblivion #smut #season twelve reid #reid #spencer

3K notes · View notes

s5anyu · 3 years

Text

he is a terrible man. and yet amongst men, he is the most beautiful of characters.

Character Analysis for Askeladd of Vinland saga

On the surface, Askeladd is nothing more than a self-serving man. He is cunning, charming, and intelligent, qualities that no matter the disdain people have for his abrasive personality, have earned him respect amongst the Vikings, and beyond. Floki respects his intelligence enough to approach him to request the killing of a man who is regarded to be the strongest amongst all warriors. This being his first appearance is a solid testament to his ability to overcome any predicament – the basis of his development as a character throughout the Vinland Saga prologue. His men trust in all of his decisions, no matter how rash. They believe him to be as lucky as he is intelligent. His intelligence, wisdom and kindness complements the air of arrogance with which he carries himself. When hosted by his uncle Gorm, he laughs at him, before imparting wisdom on a young man who tells him that he would sooner die than live without pride. He says:

“Look. It’s terrible. The guy who’s a slave to money holds a whip and pretends to be the master of the slave he bought with his money. He just doesn’t realise it himself. Everyone is a slave to something.”

Such a sense of wisdom places Askeladd as a tool for Yukimura to present and explore the status of elders in Norse society. As an elder to Thorfinn, he guides him through different trials and encourages him to push his limits as a warrior, and become a better combatant. Regardless of whether or not life at war is the best option for Thorfinn, Askeladd always believes in him and his ability, and though he never expresses verbally his concern for Thorfinn’s wellbeing, he always shows an interest in Thorfinn’s safety and is always waiting for his return where the rest of his band do not care. To the other Vikings, Thorfinn is just another one of their men. Bjorn says of Thorfinn, “You trusted in his [Thorfinn’s] luck too much this time. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t lose anything.” This statement also reflects the stark individualism displayed by Vikings – although they may work together in bands of warriors or mercenaries or otherwise, they do so to serve their own interests – honour, valour, wealth, among many things. But to Askeladd, he is someone important - someone he cares for. When one considers the question of whether life at war is the best for Thorfinn the answer to this question evidences Askeladd’s selfishness. Despite knowing that life as a warrior is not the best for Thorfinn, he still uses him as a tool to further his own goals. In his own words, “It’s just easy to make use of an idiot who is not afraid of anything.”

There are, however, multiple occasions on which Askeladd appears to be straying from the typical Viking individualism of the era. The first example of this, is his kindness towards Thorfinn, as introduced in the previous paragraph. Amongst Vikings, such ideas of care and brotherhood are ultimately trumped by ideas of valour in battle and honour in death. One would not be greatly concerned with the death of one’s companions as long as they are assured that the departed are well on their way to the esteemed Valhalla – however the concern that Askeladd shows towards Thorfinn is evidence of his holding of attitudes that were unconventional for his time. This ties into the subtle revelation towards the end of the prologue that Askeladd does not believe that life at war is honourable, and does not hold the Viking people in esteem because of this; going so far as to disdain his own Norse heritage in favour of his Welsh heritage. His final actions and his final words reflect his sentiment from episode 10, Ragnarok, in which he declares:

"This is the age of twilight, Bjorn. Let’s go out with a bang."

In his final moments, he kills King Sweyn to protect both his motherland of Wales and the young Prince Canute. In this, he sacrifices himself to protect what is dear to him – and to protect King Canute who he grows to respect as a man with potential to be great in their short period of companionship. This is him leaving his mark on the age of twilight; this is him going out with a bang. He tells Thorfinn:

“In the future, after I die, how do you plan to live your life, Thorfinn? You haven’t thought about it, right? Move forward already. Don’t stay stuck in a boring place like this forever. Go far ahead, go beyond the world where Thors went. You’re Thors’ son. Go. That’s your real fight. Become a true warrior son of Thors.”

These last words reflect multiple things that are introduced at the beginning of the prologue and explored throughout it, the first being Askeladd’s feelings towards Thors. At the beginning of the prologue, Askeladd shows great respect to Thors throughout the duration of their battle. He outwardly expresses an appreciation for his strength, saying that he “could lead a whole army”. This statement shows that Thors is a man who is both physically strong and strong in character, and that Askeladd recognises this. He then asks of him, “why don’t you become our leader?” which shocks his men – as mentioned before they trust in him absolutely and are already surprised to see a man who can best him in hand-to-hand combat. However, none of them express dissent to this; whether this is out of shock or acceptance is open to interpretation. When he backtracks on this statement and says he’s only joking, one of the young men from the village try to attack Askeladd, to which he responds

“Damn kid. You should start valuing your life. You should be grateful to Thors. He was a man who was worth more than a hundred bratty kids like you.”

Askeladd greatly respects Thors and despite his decision, holds him in high esteem. The first part of this statement also reflects on his belief in – or at the very least respect for – Thors and his philosophy. He calls him a man of great value and he scolds the young man who he perceives as disrespecting the sacrifice that Thors made to keep him alive. “Don’t stay in a boring place like this” refers generally to the life of a warrior as opposed to their physical location of the king’s court. As detailed briefly above, Askeladd disdains the life of a warrior, and disdains the Vikings for it. Therefore, when he reminds Thorfinn “You’re Thors’ son”, he believes that Thorfinn Karlsefni has the potential to be as great as his father, if not more so. He believes that he can grow to become something greater than a warrior.

The second idea that this quote reflects is that of Askeladd’s care and concern for Thorfinn. He asks, “You haven’t thought about it, right?”. Askeladd has thought about how Thorfinn has been mentally since the passing of his father. Thorfinn has a stark hatred of battle and engages in it purely because of the hatred he has for Askeladd, and the proximity it gives him to his goal of killing him. Askeladd is aware of this. In his last moments, he could have been unkind and goading towards Thorfinn as he had been in the past – but instead he pushes him to seek something better. He knows that Thorfinn has been suffering emotionally and hasn’t known happiness from the day they met. Askeladd doesn’t appear as a man who wants to seek redemption – he wants Thorfinn to find happiness now that he has nowhere to direct the anger that has been his only motivator for the greater part of his childhood. From this, one could argue that Askeladd’s selfishness trumped his desire for Thorfinn to be happy. However, very early on in the prologue, Askeladd hints at his acceptance of defeat at Thorfinn’s hand.

"You’ve grown a lot. Well, time is on your side. You’re going to grow, and I’m going to get old. Someday, I’m going to lose to you. It’s only natural. Even the strongest dies someday."

Askeladd doesn’t attempt to dissuade Thorfinn from his desire for vengeance. Rather he tries to guide him towards the idea that vengeance is empty, and that any defeat he faces at Thorfinn’s hand is meaningless in the face of the natural order of the world. He knows that it is pointless to try and calm the resentment that Thorfinn harbours towards him; he knows the gravity of his sin and can’t tell Thorfinn not to hate him for it. From this, we can begin to explore the idea that Askeladd is similar to Thorfinn and sees himself in the younger man. Askeladd is just as full of hatred as Thorfinn is – as much as he is to a father figure to Thorfinn as a man, as a character, he serves as both a parallel and a foil to Thorfinn.

Askeladd is just as full of hatred as Thorfinn. His mother, Lydia, was taken from her homeland of Wales as a concubine to Olaf, and when she grew sick, she was of no value to him. She and her son were discarded and Askeladd grew to despise his father, and by extension his people. Askeladd, like Thorfinn, learned from the man he hated the most and sought revenge against him. Askeladd was successful in killing his father but his disdain for the Viking way of life and his bloodline led him to harbour resentment even into his old age. He is therefore a parallel to Thorfinn in that they both resent battle and war but tolerate it as a means to satisfying their own end. Askeladd, however, has seen and experienced first-hand the effects of Viking conquest on the innocent. Thorfinn has only seen it from the eyes of the oppressor.

Despite this, both continue to kill.

Askeladd’s ability to relate to Thorfinn’s anger is what makes him such a good father figure to him. He knows what it means to be so consumed by anger that you see nothing else, that you live for nothing else – to endure something you despise for the sake of vengeance. He knows that Thorfinn is miserable, and hurting, and lonely, because he is too. Such a sense of relatability is what puts him in a position to understand and take care of Thorfinn. It is because he understands how Thorfinn feels that he does not attempt to dissuade him from following him around in the hopes of killing him. He knows that Thorfinn cannot let go of the anger he has until he sees the recipient of that anger gone, because he too suffers from the same affliction. Therefore, it is not selfishness that drives Askeladd to keep Thorfinn around in his suffering – it is resignation; the same resignation he displays when he says that he will someday lose to Thorfinn.

Askeladd proves himself throughout his life to be ahead of his time. He is wise, caring, and understanding; but he is also cold, cunning, and ruthless. Man is not absolute, and Askeladd is no exception. But from those of his time, he is far above men – even with each and every of his nuances and flaws. he comes close to attaining the status of a true warrior as Thors was – and maybe if he had had more time, he could’ve seen his mother’s dream come true. The world is never that simple.

word from the writer:

When Askeladd was first introduced to me, he appeared to me as a terrible man. His intelligence and his strength is terrifying. A man who can kill for his own gain, without remorse. Such a terrible man. But amongst men he is the most beautiful of characters.

When I was writing this I wanted it to be a prelude to my upcoming essay on his relationship with Thorfinn. To some degree I’ve covered that here, so the next piece will most likely be on how Thorfinn views him and I would also like to talk about his relationship with prince Canute. Askeladd, despite not seeming like it, is a very fatherly man and I love looking at how he interacts with the other members of the cast. I hope you enjoyed this, and I’d love to hear what you guys have to say about this. my asks are always open.

Please look forward to the next piece in my Vinland Saga series.

#vinland saga #thorfinn #askeladd #bjorn #makoto yukimura #seinen #manga #anime #vinland saga canute #canute the great #analysis #philosophy #thors #thorfinn karlsefni #lucius artorius castus #danish #vikings #individualism #wales

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polishksiezniczka · 3 years

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Camerlengo Patrick McKenna Smut ABCs | Camerlengo x Female Reader

Some smut for our favorite priest ❤

As I was writing this, I couldn’t help but think that our favorite ~il camerlengo~ shares the trifecta of smut with Obi-Wan Kenobi: religious devotion, dramatic robes and pure, raw sexual energy. 🔥

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

Patrick is oh so attentive and considerate. He strokes your body softly, listening as your heartbeats gradually slow and fall in sync together. He’ll softly whisper declarations of love to you in his luscious accent, making you flush even more.

Bonus: When you’re in each other’s arms bathing in the afterglow, he adores it when you carefully play with his crucifix necklace (you better believe he wears it during sex after you *accidentally* let slip how turned on you get when he wears it).

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

Patrick loves to hold you using his upper body strength—his arms are deliciously strong and toned, but not in an overly-muscular way. He can’t help but groan and roll his head back when you cling to them for dear life during the throes of passion, your nails lightly digging into his skin.

It’s difficult for him to choose—you’re too perfect to pick just one element. If he had to, he’d choose your hair, your neck, or your breasts.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Because he was brought up in the Church, he doesn’t really do that sort of thing. Not to mention he views the practice as somewhat degrading to you.

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

Obviously, you. He’s a priest and supposed to be “married” to the Church!

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

Patrick is somewhat experienced. While serving in the army he had a few exploits, but he’s still relatively inexperienced. Not that you could ever tell though—he’s the best lover you’ve ever had.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)

Missionary! (HAHAHA…I’m going to hell for this.)

Patrick loves any sort of position where he’s able to see you fully. He treats sex as if it were a sacred rite: he wants to be able to watch the desire cloud your eyes, thoroughly kiss your soft lips, devour the creamy flesh of your torso, and do nothing less than worship you.

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

It depends on the situation. Patrick will usually take things pretty seriously—intensely pleasuring you, maintaining fervent eye contact, going slow and sensual—but sometimes you find yourselves in a giddy mood, especially after something good has happened to one of you. Then his playful side will come out: little nips at your ears and neck, gentle tickling of your sides, low chuckles, and a lot more teasing than normal. You delight in rendezvous like these, batting your eyes and telling him how much you want him.

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

OH GOD. You know how well Patrick takes care of himself. His hair is impeccable, always neatly combed and styled. You adore running your fingers through it and lightly scratching his scalp, though you’re careful not to muss it up too much.

The sight of his bare chest makes your heart flutter every time you see it. You love to card your fingers through the lovely patch of curly ginger hair which grows there, a huge turn-on for Patrick. The same hair starts again just below his navel, creeping down his stomach and past his waistband. It’s another part of him that never fails to make you swoon and unconsciously lick your lips.

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

Patrick is so romantic. He constantly whispers you how much he loves you, how much you mean to him, and how he can never be without you. Despite the unimaginable pleasure he provides you, his words sometimes make you teary-eyed during the moment—something you find extremely embarrassing but he adores.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Patrick suffers from SERIOUS Catholic guiltiness when it comes to masturbation. He’s done it before (when he was younger especially) but would never admit so to you. He only resorts to pleasuring himself when you’re apart for extended periods of time and always feels the need to confess to his sins of “taking his flesh” afterward.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise: Patrick’s need to praise you is insatiable and he does it constantly when you’re together. He loves to tell you how good you feel, how perfect you are, how sweet you smell, or how well you respond to him as he leans close to your ear, kissing and sucking. Although he can be reticent to accept compliments himself, you can tell how much it affects him when you whisper how only he can bring you this amount of love, pleasure, and satisfaction.

Priest: Patrick goes mad when you play into your priest kink and loves it when you call him “Father,” especially because you don’t often do so. As gentle as he is, this drives him wild, animalistic almost.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

On the bed or couch, especially with your hair splayed out across a pillow. You recently introduced him to shower sex, something he enjoys far more than he expected to. And of course, always somewhere private.

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

Your soft, innocent touches that lead to lingering thoughts and desires. When you run your hands across his chest and through his hair. Whispering how much you love and want him.

Oddly enough, your modesty also makes him hot under the collar (literally). The idea that you conceal your beautiful figure to others and only allow him to see and adore it awakens a deep and primal lust in Patrick.

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

He doesn’t swear that often and never uses the Lord’s name in vain. He also would never do anything that could hurt you or in some way degrade you.

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

He strongly prefers to give. He loves to huskily tell you how much you taste like sin when he’s between your thighs and caressing you with his mouth.

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

Slow and sensual—it’s called lovemaking for a reason.

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

You and Patrick don’t really engage in these because of the nature of your relationship—there are few moments when you can spend time together during the day. Patrick doesn’t like the idea either, as he can’t properly worship your body as much as he believes you deserve and derives so much pleasure from taking his time with you. He is never one to complain about stolen kisses, though.

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

Again, due to his position and all the publicity, Patrick prefers to keep risks to a minimum. He never would demand anything of you, but he requests that your liaisons be kept private out of concern for you and your relationship.

Once, however, you admitted a shameful desire of yours, and he gave in. So, late one night you made love in a confessional. Although he felt like he would be cursed with eternal damnation, he couldn’t help but admit how arousing it was.

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

Patrick’s stamina is intense; he never seems to tire, even after the care and attention he puts into each and every round. You teasingly attribute this voraciousness to all his pent-up lust while in seminary. But when you’re exhausted, he completely respects this and would never push you beyond your physical limits.

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

No; why would he defile perfection by using anything other than his body?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This side of Patrick really comes out when he’s feeling frisky or playful. He relishes that he can turn you into a puddle of goo with just one look—your eyes glaze over, your breath hitches, and you suddenly have difficulty maintaining eye contact. He’ll then begin to touch and kiss you slowly, almost chastely, until you’re a whimpering, sobbing mess beneath him.

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

Volume-wise Patrick tends to be on the softer side, though he can surprise you. What he sometimes lacks in volume he makes up for in quality. Patrick makes the most delicious and sinful sounds you can imagine: gasps at your expert ministrations, moans when you kiss him deeply. Your personal favorite? The sound of him purring into your ear as he showers you with praise and words of affection.

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

The man’s scent alone makes you goddamn feral. It’s clean and masculine, with just a hint of spice. You love to bury your face in his neck and chest, inhaling him as you litter his skin with reminders of your devotion.

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

Patrick is incredibly well-endowed. In fact the first few times you were together, you were in slight pain (much to Patrick’s agony) and felt sore for days afterward. Oh but Patrick made it all better: drawing you warm baths, scooping you up, and tenderly massaging every inch of your body with his large hands. 😏

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

On the higher end, but it’s completely attached to you.

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

When you’re in each other’s arms, he feels completely relaxed and can usually fall asleep within a few minutes, but he likes to wait for you drift off to sleep and then silently watch you in your most peaceful state. Your breathing steadies, your brow relaxes, and your hair softly falls about your face, still glowing from physical exertion. As sleep begins to take hold of him, he whispers that you look just like an angel.

Taglist: @seraferna @lemairepstuff

#ewan mcgregor #smut #patrick mckenna #camerlengo #angels and demons #patrick mckenna imagine #forgive me father for i have sinned #obi wan kenobi #ewanfuckinmcgregor #carlo ventresca #obi wan smut

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mellowswriting · 3 years

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Sweet but Fierce S/O

**some of these are more blurbs than headcanons... what can I say, it got away from me

Mando:

The duality is something Mando sees often with you, and he can’t deny that he loves it. You aren’t just sweet and soft with him, an experienced bounty hunter who by definition was the opposite of soft, but you were so good with the Child. You could get him to sleep like you had cast a spell over him, fed and played and talked with him as if you could actually understand his babbling. Soft and sweet wasn’t something Mando saw often in his life and now he can’t get enough of it.

But Mando is familiar with fierce, and seeing the way you protect the Child and his beskar-clad father? It honestly turns him on beyond comprehension. How can the same hands that provide comfort and care so readily also viciously break the bones in the wrist of someone unfortunate enough to have made a grab for the Child? How can the same hands that make warm, delicious food for your little clan (a habit you picked up after balking at Mando’s tendency to survive solely on ration bars) also steadily hold a blaster to the temple of an idiot who tried to remove Mando’s helmet?

As a Mandalorian, he is so used to the world being black and white, either or. Every bit of you is refreshing to him - the considerate gestures, the soothing touches, the biting need to protect those you love. It’s a precious quality.

It’s also incredibly attractive. Mandalorian culture is based in caring for and protecting children, so seeing you so fiercely loving?? Basically it makes him want to rail you into oblivion, but that’s neither here nor there.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Frankie could use a little sweetness in his life. It’s been a tough time, coming back from all that shit that went down in South America. He was closer than ever with the boys of course, but something was missing. He needed something more. So when Pope introduced you to him at his barbeque, Frankie was beyond interested.

It was a whirlwind, falling in love with you. You changed his life in the best ways; taught him which yoga poses would help with his achy back, filled his house with soft blankets and delicious coffees, listened to him ramble on as he drove. And the way you talked about your work, your career? It’s enamoring.

Your work is how he gets to see that fierce side. The two of you were out to lunch when your phone rang - it was one of your clients, apparently dealing with some sort of crisis. Frankie couldn’t deny you when you asked him to drive you to her home, especially since he had driven you to the small restaurant. Frankie leans against his car door as you go up to her house.

Apparently her landlord was illegally trying to evict her. You have no issue getting in his face and telling him with a terrifying kind of calm that you have no issue calling the police and your company’s lawyers. You’ll have him buried in litigation and fines for the next decade if he doesn’t stop being a greedy piece of shit and go about his day elsewhere. If that wasn’t enough to have Frankie wide eyed (and drooling just a bit tbh), you seem to fall right back into your sweet self as you calm your client and reassure her that all will be fine.

Hell, maybe Frankie could use a little spitfire in his life, too.

Javier Peña:

How? Just. How?

Javier doesn't understand how you've managed to be so sweet when surrounded by the shit you both worked with everyday. Your eyes are so bright and soft, your smiles easy and pure, every gesture full of unwavering kindness. Working in admin meant you saw all of the reports, all of the gruesome pictures of the aftermath of Escobar’s men. So again: how?

Christ, you always offer to get coffees for him and Murphy on those endlessly long days where every lead seems to fizzle out and he wants nothing more than to put his hand through a wall. Your presence is a bright spot in the office, even when the rain clouds hang heavy around his head.

Javier seeks you out on those bad days. It isn’t intentional - usually, at least. He’ll tell Murphy he needs to go for a walk before he starts throwing things and will find himself at your desk with you looking up at him with those big, soft eyes and asking if you can help at all. If only he had the words to tell you that your presence was helpful in and of itself.

Eventually Murphy gets onto him about it, tells him to just ask you out already because he’s tired of the longing. So Javi bucks up and makes his way to your desk with a surprising amount of nerves in his stomach. Fuck, how long had it been since he asked someone on an actual date and not just out to drinks as a prelude to fucking?

The sight of Agent Buchanan perched slightly on the edge of your desk gives him pause. The man is obviously laying on the charm and Javi is about to turn on his heel when he notices how uncomfortable you look. Javi’s eyes narrow because seriously? This dude is gonna fuck with the one literal ray of sunshine in the office? Buchanan leans forward and places his hand on your thigh and that’s when Javier is marching forward to break his spine in fucking half…

Before he can even get to you, you slip your fingers under his and give him that soft, sweet smile… and Buchanan’s middle finger is shoved back at a vicious angle. Over his pained sounds, Javier can hear the anger in your voice. “I said no thank you, asshole.”

Holy fuck. If Javier was interested before, he’s downright obsessed now.

And as always, the honorable mention of Javier’s innocence kink.

Ezra:

At first Ezra thinks it's some sort of bluff, the charming and easygoing nature you portrayed. When you came across him in the Green wounded and in dire need of a new filter and probably a meal or two, you just… helped him. His very own partner left him for dead, and here you were, offering him a lifeline without expecting anything in return.

Yeah, no. That’s not something that happens, especially not in the Green.

He isn’t afraid to call you on it, either. This man is straight and to the point in every aspect of his life, might as well do the same in his death instead of getting jerked around. But you just… grinned, all conspiratorial, and whispered, “I’m actually just using you for good karma. This is a selfish act, don’t worry.”

Huh.

It takes Ezra a moment to be assured that you aren’t playing some kind of long con as you nurse him back to health. You still clean his wounds and force him to take medication to help his lungs recover from the toxic air with confidence and ease despite his untrusting looks. Once he gets over his fears, there’s no getting rid of him. Ezra likes you. He likes the sweetness, the gentle touches. That’s why he offers you his partnership and beams when you accept.

Besides simply liking you, your kindness is a rarity that sparks a deep need in Ezra to keep you safe, protected. The idea of you harvesting on your own with no one to watch your back makes him feel sick to his stomach.

It’s the third day he’s out harvesting with you that he realizes you absolutely do not need his protection. You hear the duo approaching before Ezra does and immediately shove him into the raised, gnarled roots behind a tree - and the shot that would’ve caught him in the chest flies harmlessly past. Before Ezra can tell you to stay put and let him handle it, you’re scrambling out from behind the tree and he can hear the sound of your thrower discharging and a body crumpling to the ground.

Ezra shoots out to help but you’re trying to wrestle the other man to the ground and Kevva damnit, he can’t get a clear shot with all that writhing about. Just as he goes to jump into the mix, whatever hold you have on the man straightens his arm out behind his back in a harsh, unforgiving line. The man’s thrower slips from his incapacitated hand and the sight of you snatching up midair and firing it right through his helmet has to be the most erotic thing Ezra has ever seen.

You can expect this man to wax poetic about the twofold of your personality for hours. Goes on and on about how he loves seeing the different ways you light up: in passion, in pleasure, in anger. It’s downright titillating.

Marcus Pike:

Working with you gives leaves Marcus in the perfect position to see both sides. You’re so compassionate with the victims as you guide them through the legal processes but you also look ridiculously hot with a gun in your hand. Or while you pull on your bulletproof vest. Or when you’re strapping a holster to your thigh.

What can he say, Marcus can’t get enough of you either way.

He loves when you give him that grateful smile when he brings you a coffee. The shoulder rubs you give him when he’s been sitting at his desk for too long leave him hazy with a mix of love and pleasure. The way you open your arms up for him to crawl into bed, still half asleep but still wanting him against you… it was pure heaven.

Marcus also loves the hard edge in your voice when you’re interrogating a suspect. He loves the fire in your eyes when he wraps a hand around your throat and growls out exactly what he’s going to do to you, that bratty energy radiating off you and filling him with the need to break you down until he gets to see the pretty, begging glimmer of his sweet little thing again.

Max Phillips:

Max is the kind of man who loves having a pretty, wide eyed thing beneath him, watching their face morph into that surprised pleasure. That’s exactly what he’s gonna get from you, too. He just knows it.

You’re the kind of person everyone loves working with, always offering a smile and kind words throughout the day. You work so hard and so diligently, that work ethic is something that leaves you offering your assistance when you’ve finished up before closing time. Max thrives on those moments where you peek into his office and ask if there’s anything he needs - maybe a coffee or some help with some paperwork.

One day he decides, fuck it. Throws caution to the wind because hey, this is Max fucking Phillips we’re talking about here. So he waves you in when you pop by, lets you sit in one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, and whispers “You can help by bending that pretty little ass over my desk.”, his hands braced on either armrest.

The last thing Max expects is a harsh smack across his face. He stumbles back, eyes wide as you stand and glare at him. “Go fuck yourself, Phillips.”

Okay, yeah. He deserved that. The great thing about him, though? Max also loves the chase. And what could be better than slowly but surely convincing you that the best thing for you is letting him rail you into oblivion?

Pero Tovar:

Before he sees that fierce side of you, Pero keeps his distance. He’s a sellsword for god’s sake, he feels he has no business around such softness. He’ll hurt you, he’s sure of it. But that doesn’t stop him from looking. Pero often sees you in the market and every time, you take his breath away. You could usually be found aiding an elder in gathering their shopping into their carts or kneeling down to speak with the local children running amok.

As a man who spent his life surrounded by battle and hardship, it was a nice change.

It wasn’t long until he caught your eye, and Pero floundered. He didn’t know what to do with that first small gesture - he just stared at you when you offered him a small bundle of cheeses and meat to aid him on his two month long journey he was about to set off on. Of course he later cursed himself for the stunned silence he offered in response to your well wishes and the small wave you gave before you left him standing like a fool next to his horse.

Pero would thank you properly when he returned, that was the resolve he came to while away. You deserved to hear the words at the very least. He takes a moment to clean up before he sets out to find you, not wanting you to see him covered in grime, and as always, he spots you within moments of entering the village. Except something is… off. Your face through the shop window lacks it’s usual brightness, your eyebrows pinched together, something akin to fear replacing the brightness your eyes usually held. That’s when Pero realizes there’s a man holding a dagger to the shopkeeper and demanding the man's coin.

By the time Pero has his own dagger in hand and shoves through the door, the man is already crumpling to the ground from the harsh kick you landed at the back of his knee. Pero watches in awe as you take advantage of his confusion to snatch the blade from his hand and point it at him with your foot pressed firm to his back.

Despite just how amazing you look like that, Pero takes over quickly, wanting you out of harm’s way immediately. The assailant is taken care of after a small struggle and when you rush towards him to make sure he isn’t hurt, a fire lights in his belly. As you fret over him, your soft hands searching for any harm to his scarred, calloused skin, Pero knows. He’s found his person, he can feel it in his gut, deep in his bones.

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queen0fm0nsterz · 3 years

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I wonder if Scarecrow girl regret pushing away someone that she initially disliked? Given one of the meanings for scarecrow in dreams is wanting to correct negative decisions and realizing the good qualities in a person you dislike?

(give this post a read for context!)

MASTERPOST

Ok, I'm going to use this question to answer a few of the Ladies related questions I got. Thanks to all of you for the positive feedback on that theory, I really appreciated it!

Starting with you, anon.

1) About Scarecrow

You know, after making a full analysis on the Ladies and getting a good look at each one of their rooms, both in the Residence and in the Nest, I think I agree.

The question now would be, who was she pushing away?

An obvious answer would be (her) Mono. As I previously established: a Lady of the Maw cannot exist unless a Thin Man creates her and a Thin Man cannot exist unless he's betrayed by said Lady. Maybe she regrets leaving him to his fate? The Eye paintings are quite prominent in her section.

Or, this could be referring to the other girl.

I theorized that Scarecrow may have had a sister who ruled the Maw alongside her. Not only that, it might have been one of the others as well.

The candidates to fit this role would be Tengu and Teapot. I lean more on the latter.

Tengu is tecnically the second in line, following the order we previously reconstructed, yet I also mentioned that she and Scarecrow may have been interchangable because you can choose to retrieve them in either order. They're the only ones to which this rule applies; Fox will always be first and Teapot will always be last. Plus, Scarecrow's pedestal is taller than Tengu's, effectively making her the second.

Another thing I think is worth mentioning is that, in the way to reach Teapot, we have to pass over the two armchairs. Reminiscent of when Teapot had to sneak past the sisters, perhaps?

Then, when we do get Teapot, to leave the room we have to once again sneak past Tengu (albeit it's her false persona).

Lastly, I wanted to mention that Red and Blue have always been opposites. It would make sense for Scarecrow to dislike Tengu, especially considering how drastically different they behave. For example, while Scarecrow prefers to hide away from the monsters and ignore them, Tengu actively engages with them and pretends to be a monster herself. I could easily see the Lady in Blue be either disgusted or irritated by this way of handling things.

On the other hand, we have our other candidate, Teapot. I do believe it's less likely, but pictures of one of the girls in the paintings (the one with long braided hair) are seen in her area.

Of course, it's also possible that Scarecrow's possible sister is not one of the other Ladies and was someone else entirely.

This lowkey got me thinking though.

If the "Lady & Thin Man coexistence theory" (yes we're naming it lads), is true, then this means that, if there were two Ladies governing the Maw at the same time, then the number of Thin Men wouldn't line up... because one Mono accompanied two Ladies. Consequentially, our Mono would be the fifth Thin Man and not the sixth, and the number 6 on the Thin Man's door was indeed referring to the number of Ladies.

Now I can't help but wonder how such an event would go down. My guess would be that the Thin Man of the time only took one of the girls (maybe only one of them was wearing the yellow raincoat?), awakening her Hunger which would then lead her to become the Lady while her sister helplessly watches and follows.

Mh. I have to think this one through. The concept is really interesting though.

2) About Fox (and Six)

" I wonder if Fox Mask Girl met a gruesome end for being too kind? Given that kindness will guarantee suffering with certain death in the little nightmares world so it won't be too farfetched that she got killed by someone that she offered kindness to. " - anon

" You know given how Fox mask Lady was able to have children be comfortable in her presence and how she likely died a gruesome death, maybe she was the type to continue on being kind and caring despite what she experienced as a kid and becoming the Lady of Maw? Her horrible death is definitely her being punished for still being kind since the world of little nightmares is where kindness will make you suffer and guarantee certain death. " - anon

I do think she met her demise as a consequence of her gentle nature. But in her defense; if the order is correct, then she was the first Lady ever. Maybe she wasn't aware of the cycle/loop. I'm pretty sure she died at the hands of her successor after trying to offer her kindness and shelter.

(Another thing to think about: the rip on her statue kind of looks like a bite.)

People who try to be kind always get the worst possible outcomes in the Little Nightmares universe. Once again, that famous achievement expresses the core belief behind this world: "Kindness will be your undoing!"

And talking about achievements... the other day I was on the wiki reading the achievement list - as one does - and something caught my eye.

Little fox.

In the achievements, Six is referred as a couple of small animals that relate to her in some way. For example, she's called a "little canary" or a "sneaky rat". Both connections are obvious: the canary is a bird with bright yellow feathers and rats are considered vermins - which is how Six is seen by the monsters.

This only draws more paralleles between Six and Fox, who have been stated to be quite similar in many ways.

3) Additional Color White Meaning - Teapot

@pidgeapodge

That is absolutely correct! Then again, this begs the question: who or what could the Lady in White be mourning?

Again, maybe (her) Mono? Or perhaps she's mourning her own lost freedom?

Out of all the Ladies, current one included, Teapot really seems to be the most depressed about the whole situation. It's really heartbreaking considering how her coding made her out to be an innocent, pure hearted, happy go lucky soul.

4) About Scarecrow's and Teapot's masks.

@doragonlw

Thank you so much for the kind words!

So, personally I do think they kept wearing their masks, even if they're a little peculiar.

You have to keep in mind that people wearing masks is kind of the whole "brand" of the Maw.

When Six gets there every single employee and even some of the guests are wearing masks, with the only exception being the Granny. Then again, the Granny is a contractor, not an employee. She kinda does what she wants and no one can really stop her, which is really funny in my eyes.

Plus, Scarecrow is not the only one we see wearing a sack on her head. We have the Hunter as well! So I wouldn't say it's that uncommon.

Teapot's choice of mask is way more goofy, bc let's be honest. An extremely powerful force of darkness going around with a teapot on her head? But then again, it lines up with her innocent nature.

It's a stark contrast with the current Lady, who is so refined and came right after Teapot.

5) Lady Six design? An headcanon, I guess!

@agandcw20

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!

I actually may have to correct you on one thing before we go though: if the girl in this portrait in the Lady's quarters is infact a younger Lady, then it's safe to assume all Ladies before her wore a yellow raincoat as well.

Perhaps that's their signature clothing, like Mono's paper bag. Paperbag and yellow raincoat, always together.

Moving on!

Yes, I do agree on Six's kimono being yellow. A darker shade of the Lemon color - like how the Lady's kimono was a darker shade of Tangerine - would be PERFECT. Lemon is usually associated with Awareness, Enlightenment and Alertness, which I think would fit Lady Six. She finally realizes how things work in this world and how she was just a pawn into the Eye's plan all along.

As for the mask, I actually thought about it for a while. I don't think it would be the same as the Lady's, because they're really different from each other, but I still think it would have something to do with Noh masks.

Personally, I settled on the Ja mask. It's badass and scary, something I think Six would definetely wear.

(Btw, I tried searching for what Noh mask could be associated with the Lady's. I found several, but the Fushikizō may be the best candidate.)

6) Same person from different dimentions?

" Random thought but what if the ladies and Six actually exist similar to the movie "Spiderman: Into The Spiderverse", where they are actually a different version of The Lady brought into Mono's dimension to continue the cycle? Some of the masks seem to hint the presence of other worlds, AND Six's connections to previous mask owners. Six herself is also hinted to be from a different world as well, as she is labelled to be "awaking in a world she cannot recognize" " - massive brain anon

OK BUT THIS ACTUALLY MAKES A LOT OF SENSE???

And this actually explains why Mono and the Thin Man would be drawn to her! It's still his friend, but a different version of her! Especially after we've established how the human children are all lured from other dimensions in the LN universe... Wow. Good thinking, anon. This way, the selection of the next Lady is not casual and actually makes sense all things considered.

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septembercfawkes · 3 years

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How Theme is Your Story's Shadow

Something that has been coming into my conversations lately, is the idea that theme is like your story's shadow. Or perhaps, more accurately, its shadow puppet.

Setting, characters, and plot are more concrete. They are (more or less) physical. But theme comes out of them when an outside intelligence (writer or reader) shines light on them. This casts a shadow to form a shape, or a puppet.

Learning about and writing theme can be difficult, in part, because you can't hold and mold a shadow itself.

You have to shift what casts the shadow.

To create the right shadow puppet, you have to rearrange the hands--the story elements--the right way.

And if you cast an incoherent blob on the wall and claim it makes a cat, it's not going to be effective.

This is the equivalent of a writer trying to slap on a thematic argument through "telling," when the story itself doesn't "show" or back up the argument. This usually manifests in a character being philosophical or preachy somewhere in the story--trying to force a meaningful discussion on a topic that is irrelevant enough to be un-meaningful.

On the other hand, a professional-level writer may understand how to arrange the characters and plot in a beautiful, coherent way, so that it casts an elaborate shadow--even if the writer never looks beyond the story.

This is why you can sometimes find powerful, thematic literature, written by someone who doesn't know how theme works. Just this last week, I was listening to a hugely successful writer talk for hours about his approach to writing, without even addressing theme. Yet I've seen his work used by others when discussing theme.

He surely knows all about rearranging the hands appropriately, so when anyone intelligent comes to look, they shine the light on them to find the thematic shadow. It doesn't matter so much that he doesn't understand theme. He understands the underlying principles that make up the theme.

For the rest of us, we need some help. And understanding theme before we get to a professional level, will help us reach that level faster. Furthermore, I have sometimes wondered how much better a successful writer would be, if they did properly understand theme. I mean, imagine if their stories were even more impactful!

In order to cast a great thematic shadow, we need to understand its physical counterparts.

Here are the critical pieces:

1. Your protagonist's dominating qualities, worldview, and/or lifestyle

Your protagonist has dominating qualities. She might be a survivalist like Katniss. Innocent like Frodo. Miserly like Scrooge. Overly protective and codependent like Marlin in Finding Nemo. Or something else. One, if not multiple, of these qualities tap into the theme.

2. Your protagonist's arc

How your protagonist changes or remains the same because of the plot, regarding those qualities, conveys a value of those qualities. Scrooge gives up his miserly ways to live a better life. This implies that being miserly can hold one back from a better life.

What a character wants versus what a character needs can also play into this.

3. Antagonistic force's qualities and worldview

Because the antagonist is opposing the protagonist, the antagonist is also challenging the protagonist's dominating qualities. The antagonist either leads to the protagonist changing those qualities or at least tests the protagonist's commitment to those qualities. At some point, in some way, the antagonist is usually thematically opposite of the protagonist.

4. How that antagonistic force is resolved

At the climax, the protagonist and antagonistic force go head to head. It's what makes the climax, the climax.

Who wins and how, conveys a teaching about those qualities and worldviews. Katniss must defeat the antagonistic force by proving she will do more than simply save herself and survive (which is what they expect). She must be willing to risk dying to save Peeta and beat the Games.

To defeat death, Scrooge must be willing to let go of his miserly ways and realize real wealth comes from relationships and helping others.

In the denouement, those who gain something greater (and this may only be internal), are those who have the "correct" view, while those who are punished have the "wrong" view. The "correct" view is the theme.

Here are the supporting pieces:

1. Influence Character

I actually debate where to put this one, because I think it's more important than the other supporting pieces, but not as important as the critical pieces.

The Influence Character is important because they influence or impact the protagonist. The Influence Character and protagonist are connected in some way, but they usually have different methods or views when it comes to dealing with life. These differences tap into the theme.

Most of the time, the Influence Character has a worldview that the protagonist comes to understand and adopt--a worldview that is "correct." This embodies the theme. However, in some stories, this will be reversed. (And there can be variations.)

2. Supporting Cast

Ideally, the supporting characters will also be feeding into the theme, by providing different perspectives related to the protagonist's and/or antagonists dominating qualities and worldviews. For example, in Arrival--which centers on the theme topic of communication--the protagonist must interact with characters who don't understand, respect, or fully value language. In Moana, each of the side characters has a different view on identity--Tamatoa says identity comes from your appearance, while Moana's father argues identity comes from your place on the island.

3. Secondary Plots

Often secondary plots will mirror or foil the main conflict, which means they mirror or foil the thematic argument. In Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, the thematic argument is that what one chooses is more important than what one is--as demonstrated by the fact that Harry, who lacks a pure bloodline and "should" have been in Slytherin, is able to defeat the Heir of Slytherin with the Gryffindor sword. This proves that Harry's choices (to be in Gryffindor) are more important than what he is--since he defeats the antagonistic force who is arguing that one's value is based on what one is (a pureblood).

In addition to the primary plot, the thematic argument is explored in the other conflicts: Hermione being bullied for being a Mudblood, despite being the best at magic; Nearly-Headless Nick attempting repeatedly to join the Headless Hunt, who argues he doesn't qualify; Hagrid being a scapegoat for being half-giant; Dobby being forced to serve the Malfoys because he's a house-elf; Filch trying to learn magic as a squib.

The critical pieces are the "bones" of the shadow puppet. The supporting points provide the "flesh" (they add breadth, density, or depth to the shadow).

Because the critical pieces are the bones, they inherently make the shadow puppet when the light shines on them. You can't cast a shadow that doesn't match the bones. This is why every story you write says something about life, even if you don't want it to.

And this is why some writers accidentally say something in their themes, that they didn't mean to. For example, if Katniss killed Peeta to win the Games--and was rewarded for that--then the argument may be that survival at all costs, including killing a friend, is the correct way to live. A completely different thematic statement.

This is why trying to slap on an irrelevant theme through some character monologuing, doesn't ring true. Because the bones said the theme was something different. The bones showed the theme was something different.

You can never cast a shadow that doesn't match the bones.

The supporting pieces aren't as vital, so they give you more wiggle room. Still, a shadow is usually easier to see when it has some depth.

The supporting pieces may simply, ultimately reinforce the main argument, which may make the theme more straightforward. For example, Hermione being bullied for being a Muggleborn, when she's actually the best in her class, simply reinforces the idea that what we choose (to study hard) is more important than what we are (Muggleborn). Notice, however, that this doesn't necessarily make the journey "easy." After all, feelings were hurt, and tears were shed.

On the other hand, the supporting pieces may contrast the main argument, which may make the theme more complex. In Zootopia, Judy dreams of being a bunny cop to prove to everyone that you can be anything you want. However, when we meet Nick, he shares the idea that a baby fox wants to grow up to be an elephant. This is an impossibility. No matter what, a fox can't be an elephant.

This means that the idea that we "can be anything," is actually more nuanced and complex. It needs some refining. In the right context, we "can be anything." There are certain limitations. . . . Although, maybe these days, one might argue that a fox could identify as an elephant--but that's a different argument outside that story's.

(Also, just a note on a technicality, the idea that "we can be anything" is actually a secondary theme of the story, not the primary theme (which is about bias), but the principle holds true regardless. Someday I'll talk about secondary themes.)

Because the supporting pieces can reinforce or contrast the critical pieces, you can write all kinds of things in those spots. However, it can be helpful and beneficial to know what you are doing so you can create the best shadow puppet shape you want.

It also helps you evaluate how one idea may fit better in your story than another and keeps you from arguing something you didn't intend. Just as an example, if I did want to argue that indeed "we can be anything," then I may not want to include Nick's elephant idea, and if I did, I'd want to refute it by showing a fox could be an elephant when he grew up.

What's not a good idea is to put in a bunch of stuff that is irrelevant to the theme. Suppose J. K. Rowling decided to include the secondary plot of Ron's relationship with Lavender Brown in Chamber of Secrets instead of Half-blood Prince. It waters down and takes away from the theme, because it has little to do with what someone chooses or what someone is. It needs to stay in Half-blood Prince, which explores one's inability/ability to love, along with counterfeit love.

However, with that said, one may argue you can take that plotline and rework it to highlight Ron's choices and maybe argue that Lavendar only likes him because of what he is--a keeper on the quidditch team. That would make that plotline more supportive of the theme. And it may be that by the time the story is publish-ready, it has naturally come to that point.

Needless to say, you can flesh out the bones all kinds of ways. And I'm sure I will talk some more about that in the future.

For now, just remember that in order to convey theme, you need to shift the "physical" pieces, so that when someone shines light on them, they can see the right shadow. The critical pieces definitively make up the theme, and the supporting pieces reinforce or add complexity to it. While it is possible to write a great story without understanding theme, it's probably better to use it to your advantage.

#writing tips #writing tips and tricks #writeblr #fanfic #writing theme #writing reference #writing help

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depressedacadamia · 3 years

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Do you want to keep your opinion or your knee caps?

Prompt + pairing: College au, ‘Photo’ + fierrochase

A/N: So tHiS wAs A rEqUeSt- thank you to the anon who requested this! You'll notice that the duolingo owl meme has inspired the title of this and towards the end, I have Alex quote Lemony Snicket. I dont have much else to say except the list of prompts that I had pinned on my tumblr dashboard is now a link on my masterlist. Currently pinned is Will solace's birthday week prompts- I hope you guys enjoy this and please comment! <3 from persephone!!

Read on a03 Masterlist WritersMonth 2021

“T- Jeff, Give that back right now!” Magnus yelled as the 6 pack of red bull- which he had slammed on his desk 10 minutes to midnight- was snatched away from his very eyes.

“Hell no!” his best friend shouted back. “ I’m not watching you throw away your health! Hey Sam- Back me up here!”

Samirah, who had only entered the dorm to steal another one of Magnus’s good pens which he had probably stolen from Alex or T-jeff, simply shrugged. “ I’m pretty chill if he wants to shorten his lifespan by a couple of decades.”

“Seee! That's what a good friend does- ignores all your terrible mistakes and lets you live your own life.”

Samirah, had taken a red bull from T-Jeff, because god help him if he had tried to stop her. “I’m not your friend.”

Now , you, the reader may be wondering- what on earth am I witnessing right now before my very eyes?

Allow me to kindly explain. What you are viewing is what is called the ‘ College phenomenon’. Currently, on the 19th floor of their dormitory building, Magnus Chase was about to drink 6 red bulls in an attempt to keep himself awake for the entire night; why would anybody do this to themselves, you may ask?

Because, college.

And in reality, Magnus had a very long project that- of course- was due tomorrow. Sure, his cousin Annbaeth was smart but even Annabeth left work to the very last minute. He could feel his head pounding from the previous caffeine consumed when he decided it would be a good idea to chug several espresso shots.

He could feel his boyfriends smirk as he entered the room. He felt slender arms wrap themselves around his neck as a tinge of green hair fell down to tickle his cheek. A warm cheek pressed against his, in a somewhat comforting manner.

“You look like shit,” Alex pointed out.

“Thanks, that’s exactly what I want to hear from my boyfriend,''Magnus grumbled. He frowned and suddenly, he felt a light peck on his lips.

“You’re cute when you’re grouchy.”

Despite his awfully foul mood, Magnus couldn't help but feel a small blush paint his cheeks and burn to the tip of his ears from hearing such a compliment- after all, he looked like shit (and felt like it) and yet here was his prim and gorgeous as ever boyfriend telling him that he looked cute.

“I came here to steal your stationary Magnus, not witness an awkward first date,” Samirah took another sip of the red bull.

Magnus pouted. “ How come you let her drink the red bull, but you don't let me?”

“Uh- Because she’s terrifying,” T-Jeff retorted.

“Thank you,” Samirah smiled, flicking her headscarf over her shoulder.

“And there’s no way I’m letting you drink all of those,'' Alex reminded Magnus.

T- Jeff continued, “ And he is also terrifying.”

Annoyed and frustrated, Magnus slammed his head directly onto his desk. He ignored the blearing pain that struck through his head like lighting due to the stupid hit. He ignored the annoying words that began to blur into one another as he drifted off to sleep- and perhaps he ignored -or, or maybe he didn’t notice- his boyfriend moving him to his bed and snuggling up next to him as they fell asleep.

The next morning, Magnus was semi surprised to find that he was A- in his bed, B- not suffering from a headache and C- lying down next to Alex. When did he even get into bed, let alone with Alex?

“Your staring is interrupting the quality of my sleep,” he groaned as he shifted himself slightly, resting his head on the blond’s chest.

“When did you get here?”

“And that's a question I never want to hear from you in the morning,” Alex mumbled, “ I put you to bed idiot- you’re sincerely welcome.”

Magnus felt a flush rising to his cheeks as he sat up. “ O-oh.”

Alex yawned as he grabbed Magnus by the arm and yanked him back down to the -let's be frank here- uncomfortable mattress of his dorm.

Soon they were both fast asleep, in each other’s arms; not aware of any of their surroundings or of Mallory snapping a photo of them.

“Delete it now!” Magnus cried as he tried to grab the phone from T-jeff who was currently showing off the photo that Mallory had sent the group chat.

While Alex seemed quite unfazed by it, it seemed to have caught the unwanted attention of all of their friends- therefore pushing Magnus into a very uncomfortable spotlight.

Magnus couldn’t help but feel like he was 15 again- out on the cold streets, people staring at him as he cowered away from the harsh glares, sympathetic whispers but no true hands being held out to help him. He couldn't stand the idea that every one was watching him, staring at him, talking about him. But this was infinitely worse because not only could they all be talking about him but they could also be talking about Alex.

He could feel his face burn as his friends laughed with innocent delight at the cute photo of the couple sleeping in each other's arms. His eyes were stinging, blurring together reality and his confused nightmare and maybe it was real or maybe it was his confused version of reality but he could have sworn to have seen a sliver of concern flash across Alex’s face.

“Delete the photo.” Her firm voice rang out. Magnus watched, half stricken with awe and the other half still shaken with fear, panic and misery.

“What?” T-jeff and the rest were confused. “ C’mon Alex, it’s just a cute picture of the happy couple.”

“The couple is no longer happy because of the photo- delete it.”

“You seem pretty happy to me.”

“Do you want to keep your opinion or your kneecaps?” Alex hissed, her eyes narrowed into slits, anger portrayed like the eye of a hurricane nearing the ocean- like a tornado near a lit splint. Nodding eagerly, they all agreed to delete the photo. Subtly calling for Magnus for some couple related reason, she managed to get them alone.

Bonus:

His hands came to cup Magnus’s face, the tears finally falling. None streamed down his face as he kept his head bowed slightly- hiding it from Alex.

What was he meant to say? How do you comfort a crying person?

“Was it really that bad?” Alex asked, trying to keep his tone soft. “ Did you really not like them taking photos of us?”

Magnus shook his head.

“I need you to talk to me, Magnus.”

“I… I didn’t like it.” His voice was meek, soft, and purely vulnerable; and as he slowly raised his head, Alex was all too stricken with the sight before him. Magnus’s eyes somehow still seemed gorgeous, red rimmed and shiny from the tears that befell from them. His cheeks were flushed,his ears tipped in red and his blond hair sheltering his face like a small child.

“Why?”

Magnus paused. He was hesitant to answer the question, after all- who wouldn't be nervous to tell their partner about all the previous trauma they’ve endured?

“It reminds me… of a bad time,” Magnus’s voice only seemed to get quieter. “ I..”

“You…”

“Iusedtobehomeless.”

Despite his innocent attempts to prevent Alex from understanding him, he felt two hands hold his face very gently and bring it closer to his boyfriend who stood before him. He felt uncomfortable as Alex burned his eyes at him. Their pupils locked onto one another and Magnus wasn’t sure whether he should look away or not.

“...What…?”

“I was just wondering if you had fallen down and broken your head in the process,” Alex thought aloud.

“What?” Magnus’s confused voice and expression was something Alex told himself he’d have to save in his head to view later.

“I’m not going to judge you because of the misfortune you’ve lived through. I’ll love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves the innocent and as justice loves to sit down and watch everything go wrong,” Alex murmured as he placed a small kiss on Magnus’s nose.

#writersmonth2021 #writersmonth #magnus chase #alex fierro #magnus chase fanfic #alex fierro fanfic #fierrochase #fierrochase fanfic #fierrochase fluff #magnus x alex #alex x magnus #magnus x alex fanfic #alex x magnus fanfic #samirah al abbas #thomas jefferson jr #mallory keen #annabeth chase #she gets mentioned #magnu hs a bit of anxiety

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samwontshare · 3 years

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Black Widow Review I guess

Was Black Widow the send off movie for Nat that I wanted to see after Avengers 1 first dropped? No.

Did I really enjoy it anyway (with some criticisms)? Yes.

Here’s what worked and what didn’t work for me.

What worked for me:

-Yelena and Nat’s relationship carried this entire movie. It was start to finish a truly beautiful sister movie. Their relationship is so genuine and they have such a great connection on screen. The bickering! The older/little sibling dynamic is so powerful in this movie. Yelena’s need for Nat in her life, and Nat who suffered so much trying to just escape but her younger sibling was left behind. This was so painful and real for me as a survivor of childhood domestic violence - where my older sibling would often leave to protect himself, but then I was left behind to survive. It took me a long time to have empathy for him and his very real need to protect himself. Because we both were just trying to survive and it wasn’t our fault. I saw myself in Yelena and my brother in Nat’s decision to leave the Red Room. For them to come together to take down the Red Room together is just some beautiful, cathartic shit.

-Yelena. Every. Single. Thing. About. Yelena. The acting was just stunning - that Yelena has this childlike quality to her because for the first time, she can be a human being. She has beautiful character moments: fogging the glass, playing with her beer bottle, her enthusiasm for the vest with pockets she purchased AND modified thank you very much. Do I feel they dulled her trauma to keep the levity? Yes, but she still has some stunning moments of vulnerability - especially when she took her fake family to task and called out Nat for saying it wasn’t real. This was just *chef kiss* THE HEAD TOUCHES OMG.

-The found family dynamic. I think some folks might baulk at the forgiveness shown to the parental figures, but for me this rings true as someone again who experienced childhood violence. What’s often hard is that you feel such justified anger toward those who hurt you and didn’t protect you, but for many people (though not all) there is still a need to be loved by those people and you might still love them despite everything because there were good moments in all the horror. What I think actually made this work is that Melina and Alexei both took steps to correct their ways - they immediately helped the sisters. It spoke a bit on generational trauma - particularly re: Melina. Was it perfect? No. Do I think it will work for everyone? No. But I didn’t mind it. Damaged people trying to do better is my jam. And I was just happy Melina lived.

-The opening credits is one of the best things Marvel has ever done. Chilling.

-The humor. This shit was funny.

-The way it centered Yelena and Nat, women supporting women, and said fuck off to the male Avengers.

-This is unpopular but I was fine with Taskmaster. I remember Taskmaster from the Deadpool comics so I get why people are mad, but to me it threaded a nice loop in Nat’s story. Nat’s desperation to leave the Red Room and end her violence meant killing an innocent child - was it heroic? No. Was it human? Yes. Taking the time to make some amends there felt like nice closure, even if Antonia falls into one of my biggest issues with the film (see below).

-I’m glad Dreykov was an unexplained Bond villain with his ridiculous sky lair that everyone should have known about after NYC. Dreykov was symbolic for every shitty male abuser that’s plagued women. It ain’t about him. It’s about what he represented.

What didn’t work for me:

-How WOC showed up in the movie felt super uncomfortable. We see a Widow of color starting the movement to free the others, but she’s quickly dispatched and the job is taken over by two white women. There is a really horrifying scene where another WOC is forced by a white man to kill herself to further Nat’s horror about the situation. The only time in this movie WOC are on screen it’s to 1) die and 2) literally be brainwashed into servitude. There’s no agency for WOC in this movie and it sucks A LOT.

-That sort of plays into my other big problem with the plot and that was the whole brainwashing storyline. It fell really flat for me and I’ve been trying to figure out why. The movie started out really strong with the absolutely horrifying story of Nat and Yelena’s childhood and the opening credits that pull no punches about human trafficking and the literal child torture that takes place in the Red Room.

But the MCU once again proves it’s not ready to tackle deeper issues in their totality - they have to walk it back so it’s still the quippy, action oriented formula that makes every one a blockbuster. So instead of a story about the horrors of the Red Room and psychological conditioning of young trafficked girls into trained killers - and more importantly how those women still maintain their agency despite this, how they are survivors and how they break the chains of the Red Room to take their power back (a story much more grounded in real abuses), they put a sci-fi veneer over it.

Suddenly they’re trained assassins who are brainwashed into being trained assassins…? As if the horrors of the Red Room aren’t enough without the total removal of agency (and it’s handled with so much less grace than say Bucky Barnes’ experience, who breaks his own conditioning). The Widows spend the entire movie as nameless victims waiting for rescue and get absolutely no scenes of agency even when they’re freed.

To me, it undermined the whole trafficking commentary. They remained nameless. They remained victims. They remained waiting for rescue. But at least they’re not forgotten? Yeesh. It flattens the experience of real trafficked people and their resiliency. I think there was a way to both honor survivors and honor those who didn't survive and the movie didn't get that balance.

-I think a lot of other people have already pointed out that this movie feels like Black Widow 2 and we’re missing parts 1 and 3. Telling this story now is a let down. That Black Widow’s only movie is about passing the torch after she’s already dead is a disappointment (and that’s not a criticism of Yelena - who is pure gold in this movie). I left the movie still feeling like Nat herself was hollow, that she didn’t get the earnestness of Yelena’s character. She had an endearing moment of watching spy movies and a beautiful childhood opening and then she gets lost in her own movie bouncing from one fight to another. It was sad as hell. I wanted this to be about her time in the Red Room, her escape from the Red Room, her experiencing what it means to have freedom to decide.

-They really ruined that beautiful moment of Yelena mourning Nat with Val showing up. Look I don’t care if it would’ve been predictable, that movie would have hit harder if Nat whistled back. They didn’t even have to show her. It could have just ended that way.

Overall, I enjoyed it as a movie. I don’t know that I enjoyed it as Black Widow’s ONLY movie.

#black widow spoilers #black widow #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #mcu #cw human trafficking #cw abuse

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Man’s Best Friend.”

Try not to bee too mad at me guys :) Sorry about the angst.

It is a more than well known anomaly that humans will social bond with any species. This is not barring their danger levels, or factors of perceived cuteness; no matter the cost, humans will pack bond with any animal. They have even been known to bond with inanimate objects and houseplants. However, one of the greatest bonds man has ever created, is their bond with dogs. Thousands of years ago a man shared his food and his fire with a wolf: another social pack species. After years and years of careful breeding selection manipulated by humans, they ‘created’ an animal that protects loyally, forgives quickly, and loves unconditionally.

In my study of humans, I have found that the emotional bond with a dog can run deeper than an emotional bond with humans. I am not entirely sure why a human would find it more displeasing to watch a movie where a dog dies than to watch a movie where a human dies, but I have some suspicion that it has to do with the innocence and unconditional friendship that dog has given man, a quality that man has never given himself.

***

Waffles: a 75lb 34kilo german shepherd shoved her head into an alien bush nose working furiously as she pawed through the strange purple plant. She came back up a moment later and sneezed violently sending up a cloud of delicate yellow polin.

Admiral Vir laughed and whistled, and turning on her heel she bounded back to him over open ground her ears straight up, her tail wagging furiously. She ran up to him and touched her nose to his hand as if tagging base before bounding off again to sniff the path before them.

Krill and Sunny walked with him, Krill staring at the brightly colored alien landscape with buzzing antenna.

Waffles leaped through another patch of wild blue grass sending up more white spores into the air, stopping only to sneeze again before continuing.

Sunny went up to walk beside the Admiral, “She looks happy.”

Adam nodded, “Yeah, I like bringing her down on occasion to get some fresh air. I know she does pretty well on the ship, but I feel bad keeping her cooped up so much.”

With another bound Waffles plowed through a shallow stream sending up droplets of water.

This planet was one the GA had been studying for some time, and, as it seemed, it was a relatively nice, habitable planet that they were readying for colonization for the Finnari, or perhaps, humans, or even both permitting everything went well.

Krill watched the dog as she plowed through the grass, rolling in the weeds like she was having the time of her life.

Predators used to scare him, but the dog had proven herself to be docile at the Admiral’s command, and he could at least tolerate her if not like her…. Just a little.

Adam Grinned at his dog’s antics and charged into the grass after her.

The dog dropped her front paws, but and tail sticking up in the air, a nonverbal invitation for her master to play with her. He didn’t reject her offer and raced forward to play chasing her around the field, their legs swishing over the grass. She barked happily as they did.

Adam had now ran far ahead of the others towards another nearby forest path. Waffles was behind him just a little ways as he pulled to a halt panting.

It was then that he heard it, a sudden rustling of foliage turning into a swirling thunder of air.

He turned on the spot eyes wide in shock and surprise.

Surprise at the ravening beast charging directly towards him, its purple fur and white tusks glittering in the sun. he leapt out of the way, but the beast was quick, about waist height and angry. He was so startled he couldn't even scream his only reaction to try to kick at the creature and keep it back.

It squared off against him, and he tried backing away, but it charged again.

There was a sudden snarling noise, and waffles charged into the fight snarling and snapping.

She bit the creature hard on it’s back leg.

“WAFFLES!” Adam shouted

The creature turned violently and whipped it’s tusks at waffles, who didn’t heed them as she charged in again, snapping at its face and throat forcing herself between Adam and his attacker.

It thrashed and she yelped in pain, but charged forward again, grabbing it by the leg and holding on for dear life as it trampled into the bush dragging her along with it.

Another yelp came from the forest, high pitched and painful.

“WAFFLES!” It didn’t take a moment before Adam was chagrin into the bush after them pulling his sidearm as he did. He followed the sound just in time to see the creature whip it’s head around and catch waffles hard in the side picking her up and tossing her to the ground. Blood drenched her fur, while green icor drenched her muzzle.

He screamed in anger instead of fear this time as he leveled his sidearm and emptied his magazine at the creature. He wasn’t sure how many hit, but the creature was tough enough that it staggered off itne bush yowling. He ignored it for the time and ran, throwing himself to his knees at the side of waffles, who was lying on the ground breathing shallowly.

Sunny roared into the clearing just behind them, her spear raised, but the creature was already gone.

Adam reached out his hands which were trembling so badly he could barely function, “Waffles, waffles no no no no.”

He rested a hand on her side and she whimpered in pain, her muzzle resting on the ground her eyes half hooded.

A choked sob broke from his throat, “No. no…. You’re g-gonna be o-ok.”

His hands fluttered uselessly over her body, covered in blood.

“KRILL! PLEASE Someone… h-help.”

Sunny stood back in shock and fear as Adam clawed at his hair, tears rolling down his face in uncontrolled streams.

Krill scuttled in not far after.

Adam turned to look at him his face twisted into a snarl, “Help her!” His voice cracked on demand and he turned back hands still shaking not knowing what to do. Being a doctor krill was well aware that the human’s anger was displaced and did not take it personally as he moved forward and took a look at the injured animal.

He lifted her front paw, and she whimpered piteously.

Off to the side Adam was still inconsolable, his hands in his hair threatening to rip out fistfulls with his clutching fingers. His agitations was actually getting in the way of Krill working.

“Adam, Adam just hold her head ok, help her stay calm.”

He nodded following orders stiffly, crawling over the ground to sit her head in his lap and tell her she was such a good girl and that she was going to be ok. Streams of continual tears rolled down his cheeks and onto her fur. Waffles licked his hand lethargically.

Sunny knelt next to him, hand on his shaking shoulder powerless as for what to do.

She had never seen him like this, ever.

Not that Adam was one to conceal his emotions completely, but he generally subscribed to silent tears if there were any at all. This, this was different, no holds barred uncontrollably sobbing, the kind where the human loses all functioning, eyes, nose, mouth and racking sobs that shook the body in aggressive, violent spasms.

Krill rolled waffles a little further onto her side spotting a deep gash from her chest and abdomen. He couldn't tell how deep it was, and didn’t want to look in this sort of environment.

“Sunny, call the shuttle!”

The urgency in his voice only served to secure Adam’s worst fears, “No… no, ou’re going to be o.”

“Adam, give me your jacket.”

He did without hesitation, ripping it off his body and offering it to krill as if it was the thing that was going to save her life.

Krill got Adam to help lift her onto the jacket and wrap her up, while he used some thing from his medical kit to staunch the bleeding. Waffles was still conscious, through her eyes were half lidded.

“Please be ok.” Adam begged, and despite all her injuries, her tail thudded against the ground at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand. This only started his tears flowing even harder.

Overhead the sound of engines whirred, and touched down on the grass not far away.

“Ok, lift her gently.”

He did as ordered hugging her to his chest and practically racing towards the shuttle as it descended.

When the doors opened he practically bowled past the waiting marine who looked on in shock.

He gently lay Waffles on one of the seats all but yellin at one of the marines to make sure she stayed there before racing to the ront of the craft.

“Admiral are you sure…” The copilot began.

“Get out o my fucking way!” he snarled, and the ire in his voice was so that the man quickly leaped from his seat as Adam slid into the pilot’s seat. Krill was worried that the human was going to kill them all trying to pilot in that state, but what he witnessed next was a feat of pure talent and skill as he maneuvered them up through the clouds faster and steadier than krill would have thought possible.

Waffles whimpered softly in the background, held tight in Sunny’s arms now.

Their copilot sent out a medial call as soon as was feasible and very prudent.

By the time they made it inside, a crew was waiting with a stretcher.

Didn’t matter that it was waffles, but they treated her as they might any human with krill tagging long beside.

Adam ran after them until the doors to the med bay shut in his face and he was told to stay outside.

***

Sunny made her way quietly down the hall footsteps no more than a whisper over the metal floor. It was dark on the ship, the lights having been dimmed for the night. Up ahead she could see light filtering out into the hallway, and the rim lighting of a figure sitting in the dark.

She moved forward, and the mass of shadow coalesced from the darkness. Adam sat on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, head in his hands. Three pairs of bright yellow eyes looked up at her from the darkness. And Sunny tilted her head in surprise to see three Finnari curled up around Adam. One leaned against his left side, one leaned against his right side, and one rested against his legs.

The others raised their heads, though Adam remained curled up with his head in his hands.

Sunny nodded to them, “I can take it from here.” She said quietly

The Finnari looked between each other and then waddled to their feet. One of them patted Adam’s hair before joining the group and waddling off down the hall. Sunny knelt and then slowly sat next to Adam resting a hand on his back.They sat in the dark in silence for a long while before he looked up at her.

His cheeks were still wet, and she had no idea how he was still producing any, sure he would have dehydrated hours ago.

In response, she pulled the human closer using all four of her arms until he was curled up against her head resting against her chest.

“I….I can’t l-lose her s-sunny…. I I don’t know what I-I’d do.”

She rubbed his back gently with one of her lower hands, feeling as his body continued to spasm rhythmically with the beat of his grief. He covered his eyes with his right hand turning into her chest as if trying to hide his face. His teeth were gritted against quiet sobs.

But despite his attempts to stay quiet, he couldn’t.

It killed Sunny to watch.

He was completely debilitated. She had seen a human like this maybe once before under different circumstances. Neither war, nor kidnapping, or injury in the time she had known him had ever brought this man to his knees, and if it had it had been silently and alone where he dealt with it himself.

This was different.

He had snapped, broken right in half.

It surprised her almost how fragile humans were, after everything he could have gone through, and after everything he did, this is what hurt him.

His grief came in waves, one moment she thought he had finally calmed down, and then the next moment he was escalating again just as bad as before. It was exhausting to watch, and she had no idea what to do other than keep him company in the dimness of the hallway.

They were there for hours.

And then the door hissed open.

Adam shot to his feet as krill stepped out into the hall.

His hair was disheveled -- even more so than usual-- his face was red and puffy, his eyes were ringed in bright red. The collar of his shirt was damp.

Sunny rose to her feat as well.

“Is she-” he couldn't finish, choking up again.

“She’s alright, we were just waiting for her to wake up to make sure. But she’s going to be ok.”

This time the sound he made was a sob of relief rather than grief, “Can I see her?”

Krill paused but then nodded, motioning him back. He hurried after into the med bay.

At the end of the room, waffles lay curled up on one of the beds.

She was wrapped in bandages and an IV was held into her right front leg with pink gauze. Someone had managed to fashion a makeshift cone out of plastic shielding.

Adam rushed over.

Waffles blinked slowly at him, too tired to lift her head, but her tail began to whap happily against the covers of the bed. He smiled rubbing his hands through the soft fur of her face and ears, “Good girl…. You’re such a good girl.” tears were leaking down his face again, but he was smiling.

With great effort, waffles lifted her head, licking at his face with her long pink tongue, whipping the tears from his face the only way she knew how.

Krill walked over and paused by them, “She should be up and about by tomorrow, but she definitely needs to rest and recover.”

Adam looked up at Krill, “Can I stay here…. With her?”

Krill looked at him unsure, but the look on the human’s face was one the little alien certainly couldn't say no to , and he sighed, “Alright, you can stay.”

When Sunny left the room Adam was curled up on the bed with the dog resting with her back to his chest, the two of them fast asleep.

Thank the spirits Waffles was ok.

***

Ask a human, the vast majority of them find the sadness of grief or pain of a dog to be more poignant than that of a human -- unless the human is one they know--. This is why movies often employ dogs for emotional factors. Perhaps you cannot get an audience to cry for the pain of a human, but if you get a dog to wait at its owner's owners grave than you can have an entire audience in tears. As I said earlier. It's hard to watch the pain of someone who doesn't deserve that pain and never will.

Dogs are a reflection of the best parts of man

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cherry-interlude · 3 years

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Lana Del Rey Unreleased Ranking (3)

This is a re-ranking of Lana's unreleased songs, after making a first a few years ago. This is all my opinion, which I don't mind anyone disagreeing with but don't come for me for it - honestly, I like every song, despite any criticism, and this ranking is very vague. It's based on objective and subjective opinion.

This is the third of five posts, with the middle songs.

Dreamgirl

Purely wholesome and dreamy, Lana adds some very fifties “shoo-wops” to play a fifties starlet whispering, her vocals soothing and soft along with the looping piano that guides the song.

Jimmy Gnecco

Breathless over the brisk guitar, Lana gushes over Jimmy – mixing her adoration of her lovers with wannabe-starlet fangirling. It’s one of her best acoustic tracks as she smirks and requests a trip to the park.

Elvis

Lana’s acoustic dedication to her icon Elvis Presley is memorable despite how stripped back it is. It could have been cleaner but Lana’s sorrowful desperation to be close to this man who she is such a fan of works well in being decent output from her.

Boarding School

It’s a difficult listen, considering Lana’s nostalgia is for a “pro-ana nation” and a school where “makig love with your teachers” is revered, but it may just be a satirical look at her time in boarding school when she was younger. I don’t enjoy listening to such worrying topics being handled in an upbeat song but the song itself has well-written lyrics and a great instrumental.

Television Heaven

This song is incredibly sweet, with lovely lyrics, dreamy verses and a distinctive pop feel, but it is definitely a strange mash of instrumentals. It’s not too jarring but it does make the song fall lower in ranking. It feels indecisive as it goes from sugary pop to a slightly darker feel in the choruses, and the lyrics aren’t the most imaginative in Lana’s library of tracks.

Be My Daddy

Lana’s full on sex-kitten in this song that opens with twangy guitars and her hushed “what’s up?” as she greets her potential “daddy”. With dirtier lyrics that she’s “open like a Christmas present” and how she’ll “fuck you”, Lana avoids keeping the sex in just the vibe of the song.

Break My Fall

Another song made for another artist, Lana this time sounds like she’s doing her own track. The pop sound is still ideal for actual music charts but Lana pulls the song off well, playing a strong woman far removed from the tragic women of many of her songs. It’s strong in quality and doesn’t stray into more experimental territory where many of Lana’s unreleased songs reside.

Hit and Run

With three versions to pick from (the poppy original, the Born To Die style slower version and the demo Criminals Run The World that’s a little more overt about Lana’s violent intentions), all three of these songs have something special about them. The pop version is bouncy and chaotic, perfect for a wild spree of gun fights and car chases. The slower version is much more seductive and measured, but a little too reflective compared to the manic power of the upbeat version. Criminals Run The World ranks much lower, not as smooth compared to Hit and Run but still with that insanity that makes Hit and Run a wild ride.

Heavy Hitter

With a jazzy introduction, Lana gives us a glamorous tale of a star having an overdose (somehow she makes it glitzy). However, following the suggestive chorus in which Lana asks her man to open his butterfly doors of his car (to drive her to get help, somehow delivered with seduction rather than horror), the lyrics get lost in Lana’s generic praising of herself and her wicked ways. However, it’s a staple of Lana’s unreleased music, even if I do skip after the (if you think about it) harrowing first verse and chorus.

Behind Closed Doors

The instrumental is a little bit all over the place, but it does work when Lana details her ill-received romance to her lover, then jumps right in the chorus to eagerly tell him how much she enjoys sleeping with him.

Gangsta Boy

Lana is inspired by Betty Boop as she croons and gasps her way through the track. The vibe is great, though the music falls a bit, but Gangsta Boy is playful, light-hearted fun.

You’re Gonna Love Me

Lana may be raw in her vocals and basic in her instrumentals (only a guitar) but Lana takes control, self-assured she will make the listener adore her. Her confessional whisper that she might just want to be loved gives this song a knowing edge despite the pondering questions and realism-on-the-edge-of-pessimism feel tone.

Living Legend

Lana’s Living Legend was intended for Ultraviolence, and whilst the song fits in it is definitely one of her more slumbering songs. Yet her sentiment is strong, her lyrics thoughtful and thoroughly enjoyable. All of the versions bring something a bit different but it is underlined by great song-writing.

Hey You

Lana has fun greeting a potential lover with this track and I have as much fun listening to it. The chorus is sparse and repetitive but Hey You is all about grabbing your attention rather than going to deep.

Is It Wrong?

Claustrophobic and guided by a smart riff and technological glitches, Lana pulls off the perfect unhinged groupie as she questions whether or not she is wrong for wanting the star of her dreams so much. The glitching is great for really seeing how Lana teeters on the edge of sanity for this guy she can’t resist, going from being the starlet to the foaming-at-the-mouth fangirl.

Playground

Lana becomes a rapper apparently in Playground and hits back at anyone who doubts her and her music. With a cloying chorus that compares the music industry to a playground of bitchy comments and school yard, Lana’s verses are smooth and her references overall decent. It can be a little bit clunky in places but it doesn’t take itself too seriously.

Motel 6

A cute little dance track which namedrops Jim and her sister, Chuck, Lana brings the party to her favourite motel, downplaying her glamour to throwback her ‘lore’ and her old life pre-fame. Though it’s very much just describing one night rather than anything complex, it’s harmless fun.

Dynamite

Like the explosive dynamite itself, this song is punchy, restless and powerful. Lana layers this dominating track with innocent references to ice cream and pillow fights whilst also not holding back from the sexual references.

Afraid

Neat and mournful, Lana finally breaks off from her toxic partner. Lana is either sick of being worried for the future or terrified of her partner, and its reflective sadness as she plans to go back home still leaves hope that she will be able to be happy.

Wayamaya

Rolling calmly like a beach wave, Lana takes us straight to Hawaii and paints us an image of handsome surfers and Mercurys. Wayamaya is simply a soothing, short, cute little track that keeps very much surface level.

Hawaiian Tropic

Plinky music paired with non-stressful verses and imagery of Hawaiian shirts, this is the (in my opinion) better version of Every Man Gets His Wish (which shares the same chorus). The subtlety of this track compared to Every Man Gets His Wish helps to convey the hurt feelings a lot better, with the nostalgic feel and mournful longing in the vocals.

Dum Dum

Lana plays the alcoholic star who name drops Scarlett O’Hara and Bugsy Malone as part of her identity. These lyrics are pretty witty and the song snappy but, like some of her unreleased music, is a bit too overproduced and not cohesive. The verses and choruses don’t quite gel which doesn’t make for a song that flows well but with tweaking it could be even better.

Hollywood’s Dead

Lana fits perfectly into the era of fifties with this mid-20th century driven track. It sounds perfectly in place for the decade she frequently romanticises (with a modern twist) and Lana’s crooning, tearful references to her icons drips with glamour.

Fake Diamond

For an anti-romance song, Fake Diamond is quite upbeat. Lana complains of her ‘lover’ who is one way with her, a different way with others, whilst comparing their relationship to all manner of Lana-themed aesthetics (diamonds, movie projectors, etc.). Comparing herself to a child, she practically has a tantrum in the chorus, stamping her feet lovingly as she demands he loves her. I do think this song is joyful, making fun of her inattentive lover whilst keeping one step ahead of his games.

I Must Be Stupid

Lana’s live unreleased track lets Lana enjoy her life despite the hurt that surrounds it, showing strength in the face of heartbreak and other such topics in her music. It was performed post-Lust For Life, an era in which Lana embraced the light side rather than simply the dark.

Live Or Die

The version that is a little bit more lowkey and, in some ways, mature in that it matches a lot of her early albums sound is good but it’s not my favourite. There’s the heady, ultra-pop second version that has plenty more sexy references, a little meow (iconic) and an overall vibe of just having fun on the run. The former version is a bit more serious, but the second is – though less good in terms of production – full of soul.

Velvet Crowbar

Velvet Crowbar is a song that shows the dark side of fame and bad boys, namely the way they self-destruct to the point that their adoring lovers (already addicted to these gangstas of course) are falling with them. This song is a warning to these destructive souls that they aren’t invincible, and an equal warning to the people that love them that they might just fall apart and lose them. Lana puts her emotion across so well, with her stark lyrics, anxious guitars and growling third chorus. Even her more flowery imagery doesn’t cover up the overt fear that runs through this song.

Your Band Is All The Rage

Probably one of Lana’s saddest songs (which could be a great deal many since she knows how to tug heartstrings), Lana lets go of her rock star lover despite still loving him in this acoustic track. She makes soulful promises to be there when he needs him, her love lingering until he wants her back, and utilises the country music theme to her advantage.

1949

The studio version is my favourite but the charm of the original, acoustic demo is unmatched. Despite the controversial inspiration for this track, Lana puts us straight in the world of the 1950s, with American motels and Kmart. It has a note of sadness – perhaps because of the unfortunate tale of Lolita that much of this song seems based on – but it works as one of Lana’s aesthetically pleasing and classic tracks.

Because of You

The spoken intro is a little bit cringe but the song is lovely. Lana plays an immature brat who fell in love with a good man who essentially tamed her (a little bit questionable for some in 2021). It’s got some of her most flowery imagery and it details how her relationship bought out the best of her. The casual comments she throws in throughout the song give this a real bedtime story feel, though this song is anything but sleepy.

Resistance

Frustrated but fun, Lana’s catchy and upbeat Resistance brings to mind surfers and sunny days set in the noughties. Even though she’s furious with the guy who’s causing her so much trouble it still, for a change, stays perky and pleasant. A song that needs more attention, it’s the type of song that gets people singing and dancing along to it.

Dangerous Girl

With a rock-feeling patriotic opening, Lana launches into a track about her prowess as a dangerous girl, like a deranged beauty queen with a gangsta on her arm. It’s simply fun, complete with wolf-whistles and an impression of a siren.

#lana del rey #lana del rey songs #lana del rey unreleased #cherry-interlude

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amydancepants-peralta · 3 years

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from the bottom of my heart

(Hi @dumpsteramy! I am your Secret Santa, and I have finally arrived with your Christmas gift! 🎅🏼 I hope you enjoy xx)

from the bottom of my heart

For a detective that had - a mere five hours ago - participated in the takedown of one of Brooklyn’s most notorious killers, Jake Peralta knows that he is feeling way too nervous about the tiny parcel that is currently sitting inconspicuously on his kitchen counter.

He reminds himself of this fact, hands obsessively wiping down each surface one last time in preparation for Amy’s arrival - running through his memory bank of various moments of bad-assery - but try as he might; every single time he glances at the box, wrapped in brown paper and too small to be anything but innocent, his heart leaps back up into his throat all over again.

It’s possible, he reasons; as he grabs the last pair of dirty socks off the floor and throws them in the direction of the hamper, that it’s because this year is one of the few times that he’s actually had a girlfriend over the holiday season.

(The reason behind that detail, he’s not entirely sure hasn’t been deliberate, however that’s just a little too much to unpack right now.)

But it’s also possible (and honestly, curse his impeccable detective instincts, because sometimes ignorance truly is bliss) that it’s because of who his girlfriend is this year; and how much he’s already hoping for a hundred or more Christmases together, that his nerves just plain refuse to take a chill pill for a minute or two. (Or was it whom? Seriously. He cannot tell.)

And then, there’s also the minor fact that he’s kinda sorta already completely fallen in love with her - a tiny nicety that he cannot bring himself to say out loud just yet, because that really is a bell that one cannot unring. But there were implications within that little brown box, connotations of many more years together that hasn’t yet been suggested but that he wants to imagine could actually be possible, and right now he could really do with Terry’s magic 8 ball to give him some kind of sign that everything is going to turn out just fine.

Just be cool, Peralta. No biggie if Amy doesn’t like it. Jake winces, head shaking at his own thought; checking on the takeout keeping warm in the oven. He really is a terrible liar.

It’s only the sound of a key sliding into the lock - AMY’S key, because they are dating and have each other’s keys and it really shouldn’t make him this giddy two weeks later but it really does - that pulls Jake’s mind away from his slightly obsessive thoughts, and his face morphs into a happy grin as Amy lets herself in to his apartment.

Her face is flushed from the cold, half hidden behind a layer of scarves and jacket collars, but then their eyes meet and she smiles and oh, he really is the luckiest guy in all of New York.

“Hey! Sorry I’m a little late. Just got completely swept up in that last bit of paperwork, you know?” Letting his front door swing shut behind her, she uses her free hand to unwrap the layers of wool, craning her neck to meet Jake’s welcome home kiss. “But! I made us some cookies for dessert. Santa ones, with lots of icing. You’re gonna love them.”

He gives Amy what he hopes is a convincing smile, helping her slide the last sleeve of her jacket off and casting it on a nearby barstool as her hands wrap around his waist. “Sounds amazing, babe.”

“Mmm. More kisses, please.”

It’s a polite request - honestly, he’d have responded the same even if it been a demand - and as a contented smile lifts Jake’s lips he leans in for another kiss, letting this one linger for a moment or two, purely because he can.

She sighs against his mouth, shuffling closer and planting her palms against his hoodie; reaching up for the zipper as their lips press together once more.

His eyebrows raise as the zipper descends, pulling away slightly as her hands wrap around his now free middle with a secret smile. She dips her head into his neck, that perfect mixture of flowers and ink that he’s come to know as Amy washing over him, and even though Jake’s technically been here for hours, finally it feels like he’s home.

The hug continues for a beat, and despite the fact that he’d probably stand here for hours if Amy only asked, Jake breaks the comfortable silence to voice a nagging suspicion. “Can’t tell if this is a sweet hug from my girlfriend, or a brazen attempt to steal all of my body heat.”

“You know I’m an excellent multi-talker, Peralta. Clearly, it’s both.” Her soft lips press against the base of his neck as though offering payment for his services, and Jake’s grip on his girlfriend tightens. “You’re just so warm, and Brooklyn is so cold tonight.”

“Oh, so this is like a two-for-one deal kinda sitch.”

Amy nods, the soft edge of her chin rubbing along Jake’s collarbone and truly, he could have a thousand more nights just like this.

Her head lifts slightly, sniffing the air before turning her attention back to Jake. “Can I smell Thai Guy’s Tom Kha Kai?”

“You can.”

She grins, giving his waist a quick squeeze before releasing him from her warmth-stealing hug. “Wow. You definitely win Best Boyfriend for today.”

“Best Boyfriend? Noice. If I’d known it was that easy, I would’ve ordered double on standby for future awards.”

Amy grins, chuckling softly before noticing the parcel (because she honestly is the best detective - even if he’ll never say it out loud), letting her hands run along the edges of his hoodie as she pulls away to make a closer inspection. “What’s this?”

His heart has most definitely returned to it’s seemingly new home at the base of his throat, but somehow Jake manages to persevere. “Oh, it’s some-nothing really … just something I picked up and it’s nothing really it doesn’t matter.”

Her right eyebrow twitches up, throwing him that look she gets whenever she senses a lead, and Jake sighs.

“So … I know you know how my mom used to work a lot, since my dad was a leaving jerk who left like a jerk and whatever.” Amy nods, remaining silent. “Well, the holidays always paid really well so I spent a lot of them with Nana or Gina or sometimes just me and the tv.”

“And Die Hard.”

“Naturally. It’s the only Christmas movie worth watching. And we’d make our own holiday day, somewhere in the week, so the whole actual date thing really wasn’t that big of a deal. But … we did have this one tradition, that actually started the first Christmas after my dad left.”

He watches nervously as Amy rounds the counter, using the tip of her perfectly manicured fingers to shuffle the parcel closer to her position, and takes a heavy swallow. “My mom would buy - and sometimes make - ornaments, and put pictures of us from throughout the year in them.” Running one hand through his hair, Jake moves until he’s leaning against the opposite side of the bench. “She said that way, we were celebrating the year that was and making wishes for more of the same. As you can imagine, as time went on the tree had a bunch of photos of her and I. It was actually kinda cool.”

“It sounds really lovely, Jake.”

Nodding, Jake points at the package Amy’s nimble fingers have begun toying with, silently encouraging her to lift the lid as he continues. “Yeah, so … I sort of had this thought that maybe … this year there could be one with us on the tree.”

Giving Jake one last curious glance, Amy lifts the lid of the small brown box, chewing her lower lip as the contents come into view.

With his stomach feeling like it’s dropped to his feet, Jake leans into the counter, waiting with bated breath for Amy’s response; and she lifts the tiny wreath ornament from it’s resting place, letting the trinket spin as a selfie Jake took of the two of them two months ago flickers in front of their eyes.

It’s the silence that’s killing him, the need to explain and deflect and pretend everything is fine too strong, and even though Jake knows he’s rambling, the words just start tumbling out of his mouth. “It’s no biggie, really. Just something that I thought might be cool. It’s okay if you hate it, we don’t need to bother next year, thats if there even is a next - ” The gentle press of two of Amy’s fingers against his lips throws Jake into silence, and she holds them in place as she rounds the corner of the kitchen counter again, only pulling away once she’s by his side again.

“Jake. I think it’s wonderful. I could never hate this.”

With the sense of relief flooding through his veins, Jake manages a smile, tucking the strand of hair that’s fallen from Amy’s work appropriate up-do behind her ear. “Yeah?"

“Yeah. It’s amazing, actually.” Her hands come to rest on either side of his neck, the sheer familiarity and comfort of the move subsiding any linger nerves as she looks up at him with the softest gaze. “A really special tradition, that I cannot wait to continue. And honestly, I just feel so lucky that you’d want to share it with me. Thank you, babe.”

Her lips press against his as she pulls him in for a grateful kiss; and even as his hands slide along the smooth edges of Amy’s back, Jake can’t help but think that if there’s anyone in this kitchen that’s lucky, it is most definitely him. After all, not only does Amy love the tradition, she cannot wait to continue it - and what could be greater than that?

He wraps his arms around Amy completely, pulling her in for a tighter hug as the kiss breaks, and with her chin resting against his shoulder she takes in the rest of her surroundings.

“Hey. You cleaned!”

Feeling a tiny glimmer of pride at her observation, Jake nods to play it cool. “Well, you know. Tis the season, and all that.”

“The cleaning season?” Gasping, Amy tilts her face back up to Jake with a giant smile. “Oh my gosh, can you imagine!? There could be a different cleaning method each day!”

Her eyes are bright, taking on that special sparkly quality that just takes her beauty levels from one hundred to one thousand as she describes all the different products that could be used, and he is most definitely, absolutely, totally and utterly, head over heels in love with Amy Santiago.

“Look, all of that sounds amazing, Ames, and I’m sure one day if you wish really hard it might even come true. But … for now, how about we eat this Best Boyfriend Award winning dinner I ordered and watch some top quality movies on the couch?"

Amy nods, raising one finger in a friendly reprimand. “But no Die Hard, we watched it just last week.”

“It’s a vintage classic, babe! The kind of movie that never grows old.”

Her responding eye roll is good-natured in it’s delivery, a gentle slap landing along the line of shoulder. “Vintage or not, I get to choose the movie tonight.”

Letting out an exaggeratedly defeated sigh, Jake decides that a pre-dinner commiseration cookie is in order, and he lifts the lid to the container as Amy removes their food from the oven.

“Uh, babe … are these the cookies you made?”

“Yeah?”

“They look … neat.” Jake smiles, one that he knows isn’t very convincing, but he’s also not entirely certain that the lumps he’s discovered in the container are actually cookies - even out of technicality.

Amy’s eyes narrow, abandoning her serving of rice to gaze over Jake’s shoulder, jabbing a finger into his spine. “Out with it, Peralta.”

“No, it’s nothing, it’s just … have you ever seen that show, Nailed It?”

Her jaw drops, brows raising in obvious indignation as she reaches for one of the lumps. “Hey! Eat your damn cookie, detective. Or don’t go expecting anything to happen with your candy cane tonight.”

“My candy ca- oh! My ‘candy cane’. Ha. Nice euphemism, Ames.” Winking, he snatches the cookie out of Amy’s protective grip, snarfing it down in one bite. “Mmm, yummy. Don’t mind me, just standing here enjoying this deliciously amazing cookie that my incredible girlfriend made for me with her bare hands and doesn’t taste like a salt lick at all.”

Casting a side-eyed glance at Jake as she returns to serving their dinner, Amy mutters something about how she really thought the extra icing would hide the salt taste; and even though it’s probably completely insane, he feels strangely excited at the thought of many more years pretending to enjoy his girlfriend’s cooking.

The idea of it all - of a mixture of Christmases, Hanukkahs and Noche Bueanas alike filling up their years - makes Jake’s face break out into a stupidly wide grin; and without thinking he reaches for another cookie, this time making no complaint as the salty sweet combination begins to grow on him.

And truly, there could not be any greater sign that he is completely in love with Amy if he tried.

(A few or so years from now, there will be a Christmas tree standing tall in the living room of the Santiago-Peralta home, covered in ornaments and memories alike. Their son Mac will place the very last decoration on the tree - a tiny little sonogram of his soon-to-be-born little sister - and Jake will ruffle his hair and remember a time when all of this had only been an unspoken dream.)

#MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!#I miss yall #returning from my forced hibernation temporarily #b99 secret santa 2020 #peraltiago fic #b99 fic #christmas fluff #peraltiago fluff

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readbyred · 3 years

Text

“Pathetic” Ted Spankoffski x Reader

a gender neutral, reverse hurt/comfort fic

warnings: cursing; mild sexual comments; a very tired dyslectic author

Lately, things haven’t been going so well for Ted. Charlotte broke things off for good and it was far from pretty, the atmosphere was crushing to be honest. And so with time he latched onto Paul more and more, using his best friend as a distraction from his own life and failiures. Unfortunately his companion seemed to be a bit distracted and not very eager to spend time, at least less so than usually. Ted pinned the fault on a crush of his, Emma, one of the baristas at a nearby caffee. She was hot and would be great if onyl she didn’t speak, or at least that’s what he told Paul. His friend didn’t seem to agree for some reason. But that’s how it was, in Ted’s opinion. She always got offended for so many small things and tried to make him out to be the bad guy of every confrontation. But it wasn’t Ted’s fault that their uniform shorts were so short and besides one or two comments were just a given considering how good her and her coworkers looked in them. But she always had something to say, a name to call him or even a complaint to make, if her boss was around. But even then it was all fun and games. Until one day it wasn’t.

It all started “innocently” as he considered it. He spotted Paul using the stairs on the opposide side of the building. Some time ago his friend had stopped using the ones by Ted’s office, for one reason or another. And so they made their way together, Ted trying to get some information out of him as to how things with Emma were. Finally after a conversation more painful than pulling teeth Paul announced that he was going to ask Emma out. It was a big step and it surprised Ted but after some teasing he promised not to blow this. So far so good and it wasn’t until they stood in the line, inside the cafe, that it went downhill.

It was meant to be a harmless comment, he knew Emma found them at least a bit funny too, for sure. Nothing bad, he just asked whet else could she do for a tip if she didn’t want to sing. She already looked very annoyed, he never expected her to appreciate his humour and so he nudged Paul saying that he might give her a different tip if she didn’t want his money. That, for reasons unknown to Ted, crossed the line and Emma whipped around to face them frustrated. She turned to Paul to announce that although she liked him around if his friend was going “to come around only to be a gross creep” then they might as well just go to starbucks instead, since she “didn't go to this shitty job to get harassed”

Ted didn’t even get to say that technically, he wasn’t doing anything wrong because Paul who was now done with awkwardly apologizing to his very pissed off crush, dragged him out of the Beanies, furious. They didn’t talk and to be honest Ted started to feel a bit anxious inside, like a child feels when they tip off their parent in public and know what will await them home.

But that was just how he was! A sleazeball, a jerk, a horny bastard at best. He didn’t want to accept that same persona that was now basically his whole self could have gotten him in trouble with his best friend. And he was never a fan of feeling guilty in general so as soon as he realised that Paul wasn’t going to address it he turned to the first person that asked what happened.

It was Bill who questioned the situation first and although he asked Paul what was up the younger man seemed not to be in the mood to talk and so there was Ted, ready to offer his, very objective, point of view. Leaning on the wall of Bill’s cubicle he announced, trying to sound like he didn't care that he obviously did something bad.

“His grumpy barista got pissed for no reason” chuckling nervously he exclaimed glancing over at Paul working on his computer and ignoring him “it’s not my fault she’s so stiff, alright? And there are many more girls than her, it’s her loss, ey?”

No response. Bill seemed to glance at Paul pitifully.

“Oh, come on! You can do better anyways! And as your best friend I-”

“Can you shut up?” Paul didn’t raise his voice but he as well might have, the tone he was using was way worse. He fully turned to face his older coworker, and for a very long time in a while Ted was, in fact quiet. As he spoke however he became more visibly frustrated “Can you finally stop following me around when I don’t want to be followed, trying to insert yourself into EVERY conversation i have and ruining everything with your gross comments? Why can’t you take the hint? We are not friends, you- you’re just this guy, a guy from work that’s just there when no one wants him to and is just too... pathetic for anyone to directly tell him that''

Ted’s face went blank as Paul let out his years worth of frustrations.

Ted often heard those words. “Pathetic” yes, he was familiar with the term more than anyone. It was alongside such titles as “annoying” “sad” “lonely” “disposable” “a nobody” something he heard often. Sometimes from Sylvia who worked on the top floor and had no real fun qualities besides looking hot (in his opinion). Other times from Emma who would be a decent friend if she wasn't so annoyingly ‘horny for Paul’.

Most of the time he said them himself though. It was normal, you know. A truth he accepted without any brooding except for those lonely nights in his apartment where he drank and let his emotions out. But it hurt no less to hear such remarks be thrown at him from someone like Paul. Someone who, despite his flaws seemed to be genuinely liked by people around him and wanted around. But if Paul wasn't his friend did he have anyone else at all? Not only in his job but in general. After all he didn’t have much besides his work life.

In his youth he was a nerdy little kid that quickly bloomed into a bitter, insecure adult, no magical glow up or ‘it gets better after high school” crap. When he got this job sometime after college, still a mess after that happened a few autumns earlier, he thought he found his place.

Even if he never felt very wanted he liked it here a lot. Only now had he realized he might have been the only one to see it as such. Was he just as sad as everyone apparently saw him as?

That moment made him way too conscious of his own existence and choices, it was no longer a matter of convincing himself that it's all in his head now that the truth was out and clear, the words hanging in the heavy air seemingly for the whole world to see.

And to be fair he had no arguments against the claim, because how sad that was to consider his coworkers, coworkers that apparently hated his guts, the closest people he had?

Because sure, Bill was stiff and boring but there was a certain dose of fun in their usual banter. Sylvia always knew all the gossip from the office and wasn’t all that bad at times. Melissa was always fun to hang around and even brought him lunch on a few ocassions. Even the intern that joined merely two months before, (Y/n), was someone he accepted as a friend. Not to mention Paul and Charlotte, two of the closest people he had, both of which didn’t want him around. And from what Paul said no one else did either. He had no reason not to believe it.

It took him only a few seconds to get it together when Paul finished.Ted always had a habit of getting very obviously defensive when his ego was hurt.

“Okay, whatever!” he shrugged angrily “Well, it’s not your problem then! I know when I’m not wanted”

He made his way to his office, away from Paul and Bill and all those people who he considered to be his friends.

The whole day was a bit messy, ever since (Y/n)’s foot stepped into the office they were sent on endless errands by their superior, Mr Davidson. Whatever happened up above in the chain it created one hell of a mess in the documents and so (Y/n) along with Melissa were the busiest they’ve been in a while.

Hence when they finally found time to get some well deserved coffee most of their friends were on their way back to CCRP.

That led to a lot of confusion when after stepping onto their floor they were met with an unusually tense atmosphere. They must have missed something important, they thought.

It wasn’t a long time ago when they joined the team and they never felt like the new person they were and all the efforts at staying purely professional faded with first friendships. And as much as they tried to,they became fond of their coworkers quickly. And so the current mood around them concerned (Y/n).

This wasn’t snooping around, they told themselves approaching Bill to ask what was up. He was a nice man, older than them and equally unskilled in the tech field but overall a very sweet man. If there was something to be concerned about he’d tell them for sure.

The day was almost over, one hour was left until Ted could go home and drink himself to sleep. But for now he just sat in his chair, staring blankly on the screen of his computer displaying a familiar black and orange webpage he was unusually uninterested in, mindlessly squishing his old and used up stress ball. The busiest hours were over and all files seemed to finally be back in place and safe and so he didn’t have much more to keep himself busy with.

He was angry, upset and hurt. Already keeping so many negative emotions inside, those new ones threatened to spill over the edges of the walls he built over the years but so far he managed to keep it together as much as he could.

And that’s when someone knocked on his door.

“What?” he sounded just like he felt, his own voice betraying him greatly. The person on the other side must’ve taken it as an invitation because soon they revealed themselves to be (Y/n). It wasn’t the last person he wanted to see, sure, but it was only because he didn’t want to see any of them equally. Maybe Paul a bit more than the rest “What do you want?”

“I heard what happened and-” they began, watching him carefully. Ted felt even more miserable under their gaze, truly pathetic and judged with his emotions on display. But there was no more space left for him to push them further down and ignore.

“Great, you came here to tell me how much you hate me too, or what?” he scoffed giving them a bitter look “Because I ‘acted like an asshole’?”

“You did from what I know” they responded. It wasn’t something he didn’t expected to hear but he felt even worse hearing it come from (Y/n). They were someone he had his eyes on for some time but never got to try anything. First, because he was with Charlotte and, as much of a jerk as he considered himself to be, he would never forgive himself for being just like Sam. Later when she ended things it was just too painful to jump back into ‘his game’ as he called it. As he always believed, he wasn’t able to fall in love. He did so once in college and never again. It was easier to believe than to face his fear of rejection and not being enough again. Sure, he didn’t exactly love (Y/n) and even if he could do it at all he probably wouldn't, knowing them for two or three months tops. Those sorts of feelings though, weren’t distant at all and their arrival was, at this point, almost inevitable. And so to hear them stand against him, even if rightfully so, hit him in a way he never anticipated. Hence his confused expression when they added “But I came here to check on you, you’ve been locked in here awfully long...”

“I was busy” he barked back quickly returning to his defensive tone. They sometimes asked him things like this one for no apparent reason as to why would they want to know that. He never fully gave in, only sometimes in passing throwing one or two passive-aggressive remarks referring to his situation with Charlotte and such.

“Bullshit” they raised their eyebrows looking down at him. If it wasn’t for the fact he felt anything but up for joking he’d point out how unusual it was to hear them curse. Unamused they added, awaiting his response “Your screen reflects on the glass behind you. So?”

“’So’ you can leave” with Paul’s words still vividly playing in his head he avoided their gaze. The possibility that they thought of him so lowly seeming very overbearing and terrible all of a sudden “I’m fine, alright? So what else you came here for”

“You know acting like this never worked on me, right?” they took the seat opposite to him, still acting very unbothered by his aggressive demeanour, maybe a bit impatient.

“And why do you even want to know that, huh? I mean really, (Y/n), I know you’re new around here but you really don’t have to kiss ass to-”

“Get over yourself, will you? If you’d like to know I was worried” their frown was gone almost as soon as it appeared as they went one, seemingly letting their words fall from their mouth freely “And yeah! You cross many lines, I’m not surprised Emma was mad, whatever you said to her. But you’re still someone I care about, as a person. And you’re not that bad most of the time, you know?”

“If you really want to have a place to stay over the weekend it wouldn’t hurt to ask more nicely, you know” Ted jumped between acts and masks, desperate to find one strong enough to hide whatever that was that made his expression soften.

“Look, I came here on my own but if you want things to go back to how they were you’ll really need to drop the act” they sighed, gaining a bit more of a serious tone.

“And you tell me that? It was Paul who decided to call me a lonely pathetic asshole” Ted knew well only one of those things actually came from Paul but if there was even the smallest possibility to have someone disagree with what he and others thought of him he’d gladly take it, even if it wouldn’t be honest. But what was more pathetic than fishing for a surely insincere ‘oh no, you’re not!’?

“And he regretted it right after, I spoke to him, really. I’m not going to try to make you shake each other’s hands and apologize, you can do that on your own if you want to. I’m just saying you both screwed up, there isn’t one person to blame”

“Okay, (Y/n)” he sighed “That’s cool of you to try and be moral like that but I don’t need to talk or make up with anyone so you either want to cheer me up my way or you can get back to work”

He let his eyes travel up and down their body freely, assured by their earlier statements and a bit relieved that they didn’t share Paul’s opinion. He looked back up when they stood up, torning to the door. Just before he could mentally curse himself out for ruining it they stopped.

“Tell you what, it’s Friday. I’ll make something up to get out of softball practice and we can go grab a drink” they said grabbing the doorknob “That’s the closest I’ll get to doing it ‘your way’. What do you say?”

“Wait really?” it was rare to see him truly surprised like that but it was the last thing he was expecting to come from them.

“Yeah, I can show you a cool place” they smiled walking out and turning back for the last time “come by my desk in an hour and we’ll be good to go”

The door closed leaving him alone again in a much brighter office.

Ted felt a small smile form on his face, a geniuine one too. Things were awful and he didn’t even want to think about how (Y/n) made him feel or how awkward things were going to be in the office from now on. But even if nothing was alright yet, it seemed that he was getting a bit closer to ‘okay’ and that was more than enough.

tag list:

@stopgettingonmynerves

@joeycupcakerichter

#tgwdlm #tgwdlm x reader #ted spankoffski x reader #tgwdlm ted x reader #i need sleep #tgwdlm ted #x reader

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