#BUT I MOST WANT TO DO IT WITH ORSON…. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweatervest-obsessed · 1 year ago

Text

Quand Tu Voudras

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: ~7.2k

TW: kissing, angst, blood, burns, cuts, bruises, arguments, crying, depression, mention of EDs, panicking, explosions, drinking, self-image issues, mentions of addiction, mentions of drug use, mentions of Maeve

A/N: Third and Final Part babyyyyyy let's GO. I'm actually excited to watch each part get its own vibes, but also be a cohesive story. I really hope you all enjoy it! Thank y'all for doing me on this crazy journey!

Dedicated to New Lovers , You're Keeping Me Down

“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.” ~Orson Welles

It was the most beautiful you had ever looked.

Shopping for a wedding dress was one of the most terrifying experiences you had ever lived through, and you had been shot multiple times.

But being surrounded by your closest friends and family members as you tried on dress after dress kept you going.

You finally found the perfect one in a small shop outside of the DC area, hidden in a little suburb where life wasn’t as rushed as it felt.

You tried on only three dresses at this little boutique. The second was almost perfect, and you were about to “say yes to the dress,” but someone was reorganizing the front rack, and that’s when the one you were currently wearing appeared, sent by the higher powers.

It fits you perfectly.

You started to cry when you saw yourself in the mirror, which caused Garcia to start crying, which caused Emily and JJ to cry, and the rest of your family quickly followed.

So it was only natural that staring at yourself in the mirror right now made you tear up again.

“Oh, Babe, no.” Emily was quick to fan your eyes as you tilted your head back, letting the tears melt back into your eyes.

“I can’t help it.” You grumbled, eyes wide as you tried calming your breathing slowly. “It’s just so pretty…”

“I know, I know. My money is on Derek crying first.”

“Oh, please. We all know Rossi won’t stop crying the second he takes his seat.”

You had decided that the only people you wanted at the ceremony were close friends and family. That meant the team, their little ones, and each of your parents. Small. Peaceful. Intimate.

Derek was over the moon when you asked him to officiate your wedding, wanting him to be there for you in every way since that’s always been his role.

You had taken him out for coffee under the very real guise that wedding planning made you want to rip your head off and chuck it out to sea.

“Okay, baby girl, talk to me.”

The ice was melting in the cup from the warmth of your hands, making your hands wet with the condensation, hiding the sweat from your nerves.

“Do you know how much flowers cost?”

Derek chuckled and shook his head. “No. I don’t think I do.”

“The government doesn’t pay me enough for the amount of flowers I want at my reception.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have picked the Peabody Library as your reception location.”

“In my defense.” You furrowed your brows. “You were with us when we toured it. It’s perfect, Derek. Don’t tell me it’s not.”

“No, it’s perfect; I just don’t understand why you need that many flowers.”

“Sometimes, I feel like you don’t even know me, Derek Morgan.”

“He’s going to cry first.” Emily smiled, lightly dabbing under your eyes with some of your powder foundation to show that you weren’t almost crying.

“I will buy you a whole bottle of Möet that Rossi will cry first.”

As JJ entered the room, you and Emily shook hands, giggling like school girls. “Almost ready?”

You nodded, glancing over at yourself in the mirror.

Honestly, you had never thought this day would come. Your wedding day. After everything you had been through, all of the heartbreak, all of the confusion, all of the traveling and running away. Everything you could possibly think of going wrong just went wrong. Suddenly, the flowers weren’t delivered, and then no one showed up to the reception, and then you were left at the altar, abandoned and unloveable again. You couldn’t breathe; your chest was seizing. It was too tight. There wasn’t enough fresh air in the room. Your heartbeat was too loud, and you couldn’t look away from yourself in the mirror. This wasn’t real; Everything bad happening was in your head.

Or maybe it was an awful dream, and you need to wake up before it gets too far and your heart gets shattered again.

JJ whispered your name, reaching out for you, sending a shock of electricity through your arm when she touched it.

You jumped.

“I want to talk to him.” You blurted out, looking over at JJ. “I–I need to talk to him.”

“You said yes.”

You nodded, staring down at your wine glass, pondering if it was the right decision. Emily was wondering the same thing.

“I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to go back to—”

“It is.” You cut her off, not harshly, just firmly. “I haven’t been the same since I left the BAU, and I left for perfectly valid reasons, Em, I know. But….”

“But?”

“But I miss it. Don’t you? It flexes my muscles in ways I couldn’t replicate, and I was so good at it. I felt smart and useful and not lost, wandering the islands of Greece.”

If you didn’t know her so well, Emily’s fake gasp could have easily been mistaken for a real one. “We had a fantastic time, and you know it.”

“Yes, but I also know that I was feeling so unfulfilled intellectually that I went off and got a Ph.D. Like, come on, I never wanted a PhD before I left; I just didn’t know how to challenge myself.”

“That is fair. I just think you need to consider the fact that you’d be working with you know who.”

“You can say his name, Emily. He’s not some dark lord; he’s just an idiot with an IQ of 187.”

“Yeah, Yeah, look. I have to go, but we are not done with this conversation, okay? I’ll need a full PowerPoint presentation with all the pros and the cons.”

“Yes, ma’am, I can do that. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

You heard the click of her line going dead before there was a knock on your door. You quickly pressed play on your movie, letting one of your favorite rom-coms (When Harry Met Sally) play in the background as you scrounged around for where you had left your wallet.

Clad in an oversized shirt you’ve had forever, plaid pajama shorts that were once part of a Christmas set, and your comfiest fuzzy socks, you slid over to the door once you had found your wallet.

You opened the door. “How much…”

His eyes met yours, and you took a small step back.

“You are not the pizza guy.”

“No. I’m not.”

His answer caused you to laugh a little bit, filling his chest with a warmth he hadn’t felt in over two years.

“Can I–” He gestured into your house, and you moved to the side, allowing him to enter.

“I, um….” You bit your lip and eyed him up and down. “As long as you’re okay with When Harry Met Sally playing in the background.”

“Time for the annual rewatch.” He smiled at you nervously, but a very small part of yourself enjoyed the fact that he remembered.

You headed back towards the couch, casually trying to clean up as you went to give the impression that you were cleaner than you were.

“Shoes off before you get to the couch.” You called over your shoulder.

The door closed behind Spencer with a soft click.

“Honey, you said you don’t want a first look.”

“We don’t have to look at each other—I don’t know, like a corner or something. I just..I-I-I.”

JJ watched as your panic started to bubble over, and she took your hands in hers. “Want to call him first?”

You nodded. “Y-Yeah, let’s try that.”

JJ handed you your phone off the vanity, watching as you dialed the number, panicking even more when it wouldn’t connect—there was no service.

Spencer had asked you to play chess with him that night, and you obliged. Something about falling into an old routine felt good; it felt right. A movie you chose in the background while playing chess against Spencer. Some things were always meant to be. The night was filled with laughs, small talk, and contentment–life feeling like it should.

A familiarity shrouded you both, mocking the comfort you once used to feel.

When you won, he was a bit baffled. You had only beaten him a few times, and he was focusing on all of the outcomes. How could he not notice—

“You can’t win every game, Spence.”

His heart lodged in his throat at the nickname, and he looked up at you, that goofy half smile on his lips.

Lovestruck. He looked lovestruck.

And then you exhaled. “We can’t avoid it forever. I know that’s why you came here in the first place.”

He blinked away the love, replacing it with guilt, hurt, fragments of something you both had grieved in your own time.

“Y-yeah. Let’s um, let’s talk about…”

You redialled the number only to be met with the same beeping as before, eyes wide as you looked at JJ. “There’s no service. JJ, I can’t–he won’t…”

Emily handed you her phone–it was ringing, thank god.

“Hey Emily, is everything okay?”

“It’s me.” You said simply, but the wobble in your voice said everything he needed to hear.

“oh–Honey, talk to me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“I-I…” You swallowed your tears and looked over at your two friends—you gestured slightly, silently asking them to leave the room so you could talk to your future husband alone. They obliged, letting the door close. It was nice of them to pretend like they weren’t running over to see if they could eavesdrop from his room, but they were just met with Derek in the hall, who had also been booted out.

“Is she okay?”

Emily shook her head. “No idea. She was fine one moment, and she was about to burst the next. Like a complete shift of personality.”

Derek sighed. “I’ve never seen him switch so quickly either. He was all nervous one minute, but the second he heard her voice….he almost sounded like Hotch doing damage control.”

JJ laughed slightly at that, glancing back at the door hiding you behind it.

“Do you think she’ll go through with it?” Derek whispered slowly, making sure no one was around to hear him.

Emily fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. “She’s terrified he’s not going to.”

“Look, Spence, I get it. Shit happens. But you don’t know what it was like, coming home one day and you were laughing with someone else. You hadn’t laughed for months, almost a year, before then.”

“I know. I’m so–”

“Say sorry one more fucking time. Sorry isn’t explaining…or talking to me. I know you have trouble expressing whatever bullshit is going on in your head, but you have to try. It’s me, for fucks sake, Spence, And while I am willing to wait, I can only be so patient for so long with no actual explanation—”

“I was terrified of you.”

“What…”

Spencer stood up, pacing back and forth in front of your coffee table, trying to find the right words. “You were so far gone when Em died, and you had sunk into this pit of despair, and I was scared of watching you push down this path, destructive and–and; I didn’t know who you were, and I was so scared to watch you go down this path so I turned away instead.”

“Spencer, you ran to JJ. You just left me here, alone. And then, when she comes back, you fucking threaten the fact that you were having Dilaudid cravings?”

“I think he’s even more mortified that she will back out on him. He knows everything she’s gone through. I mean–I love her, but she’s got major commitment issues.”

JJ slapped his arm and glared at him. “And for good reason, Derek.”

Derek grumbled an ‘ow,’ rubbing at his arm. “I’m not saying it wasn’t justified–I completely side with her on it--I’m just pointing out what we already know.”

Spencer closed his eyes. “I don’t love you anymore.”

Your heart leaped into your throat, or maybe it was vomit, you weren’t sure, but all you could do was stare at him from across the kitchen countertop.

“Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…”

You hadn’t even spoken yet, shaking your head. “Stop. Spencer. What.”

Your head was pounding, hands gripping onto the counter to try and steady yourself.”

“Sorry.” He whispered. He couldn’t even look at you. He was just staring at his hands, almost unsure about what he was saying.

“Sorry?” You laughed, tears starting to track down your cheeks. “Spencer, this has to be a sick fucking joke..”

He shook his head.

Behind the door, You were just pacing back and forth, listening to his voice, trying to erase this memory from your mind and find a new one to replace it, barely listening to the man on the other end of the line.

“Hey, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. If you want to call the whole thing off, everyone will understand. If it’s not right—.”

“No.” You responded immediately. “I–I, I want to do this, I want to marry you…just…”

“You just needed some reassurance. I know.”

You nodded, not realizing he couldn’t hear you nod, but somehow, it felt like he did.

“I love you.”

You smiled, exhaling shakily. “Good.”

His laugh bubbled through his lips, causing you to take another breath.

“I’ll see you out there?”

“Can you just stay on the phone for another minute or so? I just need, like—”

You could hear him nod over the phone. “Anything you want.”

Somehow, you were back in that fucking elevator. Again.

But this time, it felt like a homecoming rather than a curse you were trying to break.

When the doors opened, you saw your family leaving little presents on your desk—flowers, balloons, chocolate, even cupcakes from your favorite bakery. They were all so busy setting it up that they didn’t notice as you walked up behind them, peering over their shoulders.

“Looks good, guys.”

“You think—” Derek did a double take and clutched his chest. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

You laughed and smiled at him, dropping your bag onto your chair. “It looks wonderful. You guys didn’t have to do anything for me–”

“Actually, we did. How could we not? I mean! She’s home! She’s back solving crimes in sexy-looking outfits!” Garcia wrapped her arm around your shoulders, resting her head on yours.

“I love it, guys, thank you.”

JJ briskly walked past you all, giving you a brief smile, almost running up the stairs and into Hotch’s office.

“Well, looks like you’re getting thrown right back into it.” Derek sighed.

Hotch came out of his office and smiled at you before nodding at the others. “Wheels up in forty, everyone. I’ll brief you all on the plane.”

“Good.”

“Just breathe y/n. Okay? I’ll be the one at the end of the altar with the incredibly well-tailored suit and those flowers you like so much pinned to my chest.”

“You’re gonna cry.” You whispered jokingly, taking in a deeper breath than before. “I look so good in this dress. I actually was crying about it before I made Emily call you.”

“It’s like you’re trying to kill me.”

Derek knocked on your door, leaning his ear up against it, trying to hear what you were saying. He called out your name, and after about a minute, you told him it was unlocked.

“Can I come in?”

“If you want Derek, it is entirely up to you.”

He opened the door, tears welling up the second he saw you.

Hearing him enter, you faced him, smiling softly at him.

All Derek could do was take you in for a second, unable to really think of what he was about to tell you. This felt a bit ridiculous since he was there when you picked out the dress, but watching you now, ready to actually wear it for its intended purpose, was a whole different ball game.

“You look…..”

“Right.” You whispered, walking over and squeezing his hand. “I’m ready. Let’s do this thing before shit goes south.”

______________________________________________________________

“Y/n, You are the love of my life, and I could give you an eternal list of every single moment of my life where I felt nothing but complete and utter adoration for you. But then last week, you picked the movie you thought we should watch: a nineties rom-com, obviously, with big romantic gestures and a heroine who doesn’t need to be tamed. And those two inspired me to give you instead a list of the ten things I hate about you.”

Spencer had gotten a good look at you for the first time in a long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve and that you had broken up. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly, Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore. He hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”

He just nodded at Spencer. “I know, Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation would go any better than that.”

Reid just nodded and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash.

Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” with that, Hotch walked past Reid and down the stairs toward where he had assumed you had run off to.

Reid just returned to his desk, sitting and staring at your now empty desk. Hotch had fulfilled your request, letting you move across the bullpen so you didn’t have to sit next to him anymore.

Some part of the thought that you couldn’t even look at him anymore caused his gut to lurch, causing his hearing to burst for a moment. Maybe this was too fucked up. Perhaps he had been wrong. He thought he was doing the right thing by letting you go, not weighing you down with all his own bullshit, but he realized he had failed to pay attention.

Spencer thought long and hard, trying to piece together everything he had thought about in the past couple of months when it came to you, and that’s when he realized it was every day. He thought about you every day.

But he had ignored you. He had failed to notice as you crumbled to nothing in front of him.

“Number ten is that I hate the way you fold laundry. It’s incredible how you manage to fold every single item in a completely different manner. It baffles me. One of the great mysteries in this world that we might never have the answer to.”

“So you two spoke?”

You held up your finger as you finished the prosecco in your glass. Once you finished, casually, you picked up the bottle and poured yourself a second glass, only beginning to speak when the glass had been filled to your liking.

“He came over to my apartment, Derek. I had already opened the door, and what was I going to say—”

“How about no?”

“It’s rude to interrupt Derek Morgan.” Penelope elbowed him and took a sip from her own glass. “But he’s right, Y/n. You could have said no and slammed the door in his face.”

“But that’s not who I am. You know I’m a sucker for closure. You know I wanted to talk to him anyway. I just wasn’t expecting the discussion that ended up happening….”

Derek raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Do tell Princess.”

You shrugged and took another sip. “We talked about Maeve.”

The looks you received were exactly what you had expected, only because it was how you felt about the conversation.

“Number nine. I hate how you pick out what we will watch each week. You just skim through every single title on every platform until the one with the right ‘energy’ calls out to you. And they’re never the same. You manage to match a film to the night perfectly, and I hate how well you can pinpoint that about me.

“Eight. I hate the way you drive. You manage to be the safest and most dangerous person on the road. There’s nothing more to that one. You terrify me.”

“I cannot believe you, Spencer Reid. You have the audacity to come to my house, lose at chess, and then accuse me of being the reason our relationship ended!?”

“That’s not what I said.” His voice was desperate. “I’m not blaming anyone but myself, okay? I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I just—You were so–”

“I was so what, Spencer. What about me was just soooo fucking terrifying to you that you decided you didn’t want to propose to me anymore.”

“That’s not fair.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re fucked in the head if you think the part that isn’t fair is me calling you out on that.”

Spencer paced around, running his hands through his hair. He was going to wear a path in your carpet the way he was pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth.

“Seven. I hate how captivating you are. Whenever you tell a story, there’s no use in getting any work done because all anyone can do is wait for the story to be finished. If there’s no ending–I’ve watched Morgan sulk at his desk until you returned from a meeting because you were running late and didn’t wrap up the end of the story for him. Something about the way you speak, the way you capture people’s attention, is one of the most dangerous weapons I’ve ever seen on the planet.

“I hate—oh, sorry–Number six.” He smiled at you and squeezed your head. You were shaking slightly as you rapidly blinked away tears, trying to inhale and exhale through your nose. It wasn’t working. Every word this man said made you one second closer to jumping onto him and kissing him senseless. “I hate how smart you are. It’s ridiculous. You can argue so beautifully and eloquently that it makes anyone arguing against you look like a fucking idiot. You speak four fucking languages, making you invincible and even more aggravating since you’ve decided to start learning a fifth one. You have started to beat me every other game in chess, which is actually humiliating for me, and I can’t figure out how you’re doing it. You read everything under the sun and still manage to have a life, friends, and family. I don’t know anyone in the world who could compare to your intellect.”

“Five. I hate how you steal my chocolate-covered pretzels. I bought you a whole fucking cabinet’s worth, and somehow, mine still got eaten.”

You watched him give you a bit of a stink eye for that one, causing you to kiss his hand lightly. “My apologies.”

“You don’t mean it, and you know it.” He grumbled, flipping his page so that he could keep reading.

“I hate how beautiful you are. It’s distracting. I can’t work near you anymore because all I want to do is daydream about you. I want to watch you smile for the rest of my life if I can help it.”

“Three. I hate how much you care. It terrifies me how much you care about other people. I have seen you at your best and your worst moments.” You squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I have seen the worst outcomes of cases we could ever imagine, or the best, and yet you put the same amount of effort and care into all of them. It’s infuriating because you put your life on the line constantly to be able to give people a chance, whether that be to save them from others or to save them from themselves. You are the most considerate person in the world, even to those who might not deserve it.”

This was not a good case.

It was never a ‘good case,’ but this one just sucked the absolute life out of you. You had been back for only a month, and it was going too well. You were on top of your game. You were better than ever—but you knew the other shoe would drop.

And it did.

You were never a big fan of getting shot at, but you would prefer that rather than have to escape a burning building. It was one of your biggest fears, and here it was, being realized.

You had managed to crawl down to the first floor before everything started to go black. He had sealed the windows. He had sprinkled broken glass along the stairs, causing you to rip open your legs and hands as you slid down the stairs. The more significant shards of glass shredding the back of your pants. It was fucking painful. But you had managed to make it to the kitchen.

That’s when you saw the firefighters bursting through doors, trying to contain the fire surrounding you. You could feel the burn on your skin as they pulled you out of the building, blood dripping down your legs and hands.

You must have been one fucked up sight for Hotch to drop everything he was doing and run over to you. But you wished he didn’t because the building behind you exploded. The flames must have hit the gas line, and the house came crashing down.

You were thrown back from the force, causing you to land on your back. Nothing was broken, nothing was sprained, but adding road rash and hearing loss to your ever-growing list of injuries was not fun.

Spencer and Hotch, who were shoved to the ground by the blast, scrambled over to you, where you were just lying on the ground, facing the sky, trying to breathe.

Maybe they were yelling your name or just trying to speak to you, but your head buzzed with the remnants of the explosion.

You watched as the sky above you filled with smoke and flickered with red hues. At some point, you saw Spencer come into your line of view. He was definitely mouthing your name.

Just then, like a wave crashing over you again, your hearing came back. Overwhelming could barely describe the feeling of shock running through your body. Your eyes widened as tears sprung to your eyes, your lungs gasping for air, and your mind flooded with adrenaline, with panic.

“Y/N. Hey. Listen to me. Hey.” Hotch had been trying to get you to sit up. He was going through his own internal panic attack—this scene was a little too close to NYC, to Kate.

Ambulance sirens blared, and you could hear a beam crash down and spur on the fire—” It hurts. So. Bad.” You finally managed to whisper, still gasping for air.

Reid wasn’t sure you were even registering that you were sobbing and that tears were racing down your cheeks.

“Can you sit up?”

“My hands.” You mumbled. “There-there was glass…so much…”

You flinched as Hotch yelled for a gurney.

“I need you to try and sit up, okay?” Spencer was next to you. He was on his hands and knees, slowly trying to gain your attention. There is a gentle touch on the arm here and a brush of your hair out of your eyes. He was just trying to give you peace, a breath amid everything going on.

“Spence.” You whined, flexing your hand, wincing when a tiny shard of glass shifted in your palm, causing even more pain.

“I know.” He said to you, gently taking your hand and wincing as he saw the microscopic shards scattered across your palm. “I need you to sit up for me.”

“Please don’t make me get up, Spence.” You whispered.

Hotch had moved away from the both of you, trying to clear a path so two EMTs could reach you.

“Once you sit up, I promise you won’t have to do anything else.”

You closed your eyes and let out a cry. It felt so relieving to just let whatever tension you had left in your body. But the thought of not doing anything sounded even better, so you slowly made your way to a sitting position, leaning against Spencer’s chest as he kissed your head and carefully ran his hand up and down your arm.

Spencer’s entire body relaxed into yours. He had never been more grateful that you could make it out of that building before…he didn’t want to think about what else would have happened. The two of you had just started talking again. You were hanging out. He would have never forgiven himself if he left things the way they were.

It felt wrong for him to be grateful at how much you got hurt because all of your limbs were still intact, and you were still conscious, still breathing. But he was thankful as he held you on the pavement, in the middle of the road, while everyone ran around you both.

You, on the other hand, were not happy to be sitting up. The adrenaline started to wear off, and your body was no longer buzzing. “Spence.” You whispered to him, trying to get his attention. You were nauseous, and the world was spinning. Everything was phasing in, and out of clarity, you could actually feel the earth rotating.

“Spence.” This time, it was said with more urgency. And it caught his attention. “I need to lie back down.”

“You can’t—”

“I’m gonna vomit.��

“Shit shit shit, okay, nausea is usually a sign of a concussion, a really bad one, most likely in the red zone—”

“Spencer, please.” You mumbled, closing your eyes and slumping against him, trying your best to hold down whatever you felt slowly creeping up your throat.

“I can’t let you lay back down.” He mumbled, turning you in his arms, prepping for whatever would come out.

Luckily for both of you, the two EMTs and Hotch had made it back over, bucket in hand, because Hotch had told them you most likely had a concussion. And god bless that stupid bucket because it managed to save some of your dignity by not throwing up all over the street. The EMTs had checked you out, flashing that stupid fucking light in your eyes, looking at your hands and doing their best to pull out some of the larger chunks of glass, and then helping to get you onto a gurney, and eventually into an ambulance to be shipped off to the nearest hospital.

Spencer was the only person you would allow to come with you in the ambulance.

“Two. I hate how well you know me and can read me like an open book. I have never met someone who knew me in the same way you could. You know things about me before I could even fathom the possibilities. You have been there for me in some of the darkest times of my life, and I would not have survived if it wasn’t for you. You picked me off the ground countless times, more than I could ever repay you for.”

“And last but not least. I hate how I can’t live without you. I hate that if you’re not in the same room as me, I can’t breathe. I hate how you manage to make my days filled with comfort, support, and love when sometimes I don’t deserve it. I hate when you go away to conferences, and I have to wake up to an empty bed, and the only thing that motivates me is the fact that I know you’ll text me as soon as you’re awake. I hate how you are the last person I want to see at night before I go to sleep. And I hate that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

You were fully crying, tears tracking down your cheeks, as you squeezed his hand tightly. You laughed slightly, trying to wipe away one of the stray tears, but he beat you to it, using his thumb to wipe away your tears gently.

“Did you just quote When Harry Met Sally at me?”

He smiled cheekily, handing the paper back to Derek, who put it in his pocket. “What else would I be able to quote at you? It was playing that night…”

You shook your head, unable to stop the smile across your face. You heard him whisper, “I love you,” but it still made your heart ache.

“Okay, Doctor Reid. Work your magic.”

“You make it sound like I’m performing a spell or something. I’m literally just fixing your computer.”

You snorted and shrugged. “Isn’t it you who always said that physics and magic are basically the same thing.”

“Okay, yes, but—”

“And computer science is a science, right?”

Spencer just rolled his eyes, realizing he would not win this argument, and began to futz with your desktop.

It had crashed on you while you were in the middle of a report. At home. In your pajamas.

This was a practice that was familiar to Spencer. Whenever you were working on something that was not classified or very sensitive information, you had gotten special clearance from Hotch to bring it home. So Spencer has seen you write up preliminary profiles for cases around the country in nothing but your pajamas many times.

Except he hasn’t seen you in just pajama shorts and a tank top since, well.

He was supposed to be focusing on the desktop, and that is what he is going to do.

“I really appreciate you coming over at like 10 pm, Spence. I really do. I’m sure you were busy, so I really appreciate it.”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “It was no trouble, really. Besides.” He turned back to the screen with a cheeky grin across his face. “I know how you get when something breaks.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you leaned against the kitchen counter. “Spencer. Are you…flirting with me…”

His face turned slightly red as he quickly faced the computer screen again. “And so what if I am,” he mumbled, focusing on the task at hand. He wasn’t sure how you managed to freeze your computer this badly, but he was determined to work it out.

You shrugged and checked your phone, looking at the text from Emily that you had chosen to ignore. Maybe she told you not to ask Spencer over. Maybe she had warned against moving too quickly with anything.

But you were a grown adult, you could make your own choices. You could—

“It’s, uh, it’s all fixed for you.” Spencer had stood up and was nervously fiddling with his hands. He hasn’t been like this towards you since you had both started dating over seven years ago.

You bit your lip and casually turned your phone on DnD.

“Thanks, Spence. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, doing his best to stop eying you up and down.

The two of you stood there, unsure of how to continue on with one another.

The tension was thick, almost like a humidity in the air that covered your skin and ruined your hair, just by stepping into it.

Spencer eventually broke eye contact and wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, I’m going to uh…Have a good night.” He quickly grabbed his bag from the counter and shut the door behind him.

Your hands dragged down your face as you sighed and shook your head. Maybe it was for the best that you two just stayed friends. Maybe it was for the best that you two never were in a relationship again. You remembered what happened last time. Maybe you should just finish the report and go to bed. Or maybe you should run after him. It wouldn’t be that embarrassing, considering he was staring back at you, right?

Who said you didn’t deserve to make a bad decision every now and again.

You grabbed your keys and slid on your slippers, not even bothering to grab a coat. You opened the door and came face to face with an out-of-breath Spencer just about to knock on your door. You took one look at each other.

And that’s when he reached down and brought your lips to his.

Emily reached over and gently handed you your vows.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You whispered, causing everyone around you to laugh softly at you, desperately trying to stop crying.

“I said I was going to try not to cry during his, and that obviously was not the case.” You slowly exhaled your lips, taking his hand and smiling up at him.

“Hey.” You whispered, causing him to whisper it back to you. “So–um. I wrote my vows a long time ago. Like, a while back. And I was looking for them and almost couldn’t find them. But I remembered that I had written them in that really small brown, leather journal thing that you got me for one of my birthdays that I kept losing because I always put it down and never remembered where.”

The small, collected group laughed together, watching you turn the page in that small brown leather journal.

“I didn’t know where I wanted to start when writing my vows. I knew how I wanted it to end, though. I’ve always known how I wanted my life to end and everything to go. So that’s what I did. I started at my endgame and worked my way backward. But shit happens, and life never goes according to plan. Never.”

He squeezed your hand.

Those weeks after were fucking brutal for you.

Relaxing was something you were never fantastic at, so having to take two weeks off to recover from your concussion, burns, cuts, and bruises was excruciating.

Maybe it would have been worse if a certain someone wasn’t basically living in your apartment with you, doing anything and everything to be there for you.

You woke up to freshly brewed coffee, sometimes breakfast if he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes, he’d be home in time to make you both dinner. It felt oddly domestic for you, reminding you of before Maeve, before everything that had gone down over the phone.

Once the two weeks were over, he might have visited to check up on you. There would be nights where he would stay over just in case your head or back started to hurt again. It took more convincing for Spencer to let you go back to work than it did for your actual neurologist.

“Need I remind you I’m a doctor too, Spencer. I’m going back to work on Monday, meaning two over one, majority rules.”

Spencer scoffed and crossed his arms. “The lights will cause headaches, and staring at screens and files will only add to that. It’s a bad idea, y/n. Especially if we have to go somewhere, traveling across the country in a plane. You might as well knock yourself out because the air pressure would kill your head and ear drums.”

“Always the one for dramatics, aren’t we.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m not being dramatic. I just care about your well-being, apparently more than you do—”

“Spence.”

“What.”

You kissed him softly. Just to shut him up. There were no ulterior motives. None.

He hummed, hands sliding around your waist, keeping you close to him as you broke the kiss.

That was another development you were keeping under wraps. The two of you might have decided to give it another shot. It had been over a month since you rejoined the BAU, and even before you got severely injured, Spencer had been doing everything he could to apologize. Whether that be his apologies or through his actions, he was stepping up.

But both of you had yet to outright tell the others. Emily knew something was going on, especially when you showed up to work in the same outfit two days in a row, but she had assumed you had seen someone else, not your ex.

You didn’t mind, though, when he took such good care of you when he bought you fresh flowers every week, when he kissed you past the point of breathing when he would—

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer whispered, interrupting whatever spiral you had started.

“What book I should read next.”

“Liar.” He squeezed your sides, laughing softly and kissing you again.

“There’s not much I can say about how life doesn’t go as planned since everyone here with us understands and knows how quickly life changes. But I realized that I need to have you by my side regardless of how it changes. I don’t want to be back in a place where I’m not with you because it just didn’t make any sense.”

“My vows are short because I would never make it through them if they were any longer.”

This caused another ripple of laughter throughout your friends, giving your fiancé a moment to wipe away another stray tear on your cheek.

“All of this to say.” You cleared your throat, but it didn’t stop the tears from clouding your vision. “Shit. Give me a second.”

Emily gave you a tissue, which you used to wipe under your eyes. You shook your hands slightly, trying to calm yourself down and shake out the rest of the emotions so that you could at least finish saying your vows.

“Having begun to love you, I love you forever—in all changes, in all disgraces, because you are yourself.”

Spencer beamed joyfully, realizing you followed his same path, quoting something you knew the other loved.

And suddenly, the stars aligned. A soft breeze picked up, and the world was quiet.

Everything was alright. Everything was okay.

And for that beautiful, brief moment, you had everything you could have ever asked for, and there was nothing you would have changed, nothing in the whole world that was worth the love and happiness you felt in this moment, beaming at Spencer as you both said

I do.

“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” - Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @gubzgirl @onlyspence @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mynameisnotokay @kalulakunundrum @academiareid @lilsunshine1092 @brilliantreid @shqwqrma @cluelessteam @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @hereforfun22-blog @yoursarahg @r-3dlips @lilrios-world @hereforfun22-blog @mega-kittyglitter-1

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader angst #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds x reader

510 notes · View notes

glitterypin · 2 months ago

Text

rewatching 'The Caretaker' and by gods, I fucking hate Danny Pink so much - if you like Danny Pink, please stop reading right here, you are not going to enjoy the rest of this post, but I need to vent.

I think I gave him a proper chance when I first watched Season 8, I don't recall disliking him all that much back then, but the more I rewatch it, the more I want to punch his teeth out. Case in point:

-I just want to know who you are! -You know who I am! -When you're with him. When you're with the Doctor.

Like, excuse you, you insufferable fuckface, people contain multitudes. Who the fuck do you think you are to demand to witness a relationship you are not a part of? Hey, she's also different when she's with her grandma, do you want to pop by with her for a visit before you go on?

That Clara actually goes with it just straight up baffles me. Not because I think better of her, the whole invisibility watch scheme is very much up the alley of "doing dumb shit thinking I'll get away with it" that we're used to expect from Clara (I forgive her for most of them because I love her, btw, that girl is a mess), but Clara is also stubborn and proud, I don't understand why she doesn't tear him a new one for this.

I think a lot of the plausibility of the whole Danny arc hinges on us believing that Clara loves Danny very, very much, but that is in itself implausible for me, I truly don't understand what she sees in him - mind you, I don't mean there aren't good things about him, he's nice, he's handsome (not my type), he's reliable but he's also an idiot and a soldier and while I can see why other people would love him, I don't see why Clara would. He never even travels on the TARDIS, he's not even curious about it.

My current theory is that Clara loves him because she meets Orson. That she wouldn't choose him otherwise, but meeting Orson she believes her future is with Danny and just accepts that as truth and behaves accordingly. Like autosuggestion or something. It also occurs to me that in many ways Danny is the polar opposite of the Twelfth Doctor and Clara being pulled towards both of them is just a sign that she doesn't fucking know what she wants - very plausible.

But the problem is that neither of these routes are actually explored in the show, so we just have to take everything at face value. Danny is a good guy. Clara loves him. His death is a tragic event. Clara loved him so much she loses herself when he's gone. Let's pretend his departure wasn't a huge relief all around.

Anyway, yeah, sorry, Danny, if you were paired with someone else maybe I would like you better but you were absolute shit for Clara.

#clara oswald #danny pink #doctor who #twelfth doctor #the caretaker #s08e06

79 notes · View notes

inkyycapp · 6 months ago

Text

Pinefield-Matsu x Demon!Reader

(got lazy a bit in, forgive any errors I'll edit when my brain isn't mush.)

Deep in the library, a book of the dark arts lay dormant, untouched by many who passed it by.

Now, in the hands of a new holder, there was no telling why or how they found such a book as no system had it on file. Strange old, dusty book.

Far beyond the tree line, he flipped through the pages, skimming each page for what it had to offer. After what seemed like ages, his hand stopped at an interesting page. While the book and its contents were tattered and old, this one singular page looked preserved--torn through time itself.

Placing candles carefully around the circle of old bones, tossing salt and who knows what else into the small circle. Chanting in the incantation and then... ... Then...? Nothing happened. Checking the page, before looking at the circle. Once, somehow, a small fire was lit, to their surprise, it grew into a large fire pooling from the summoning circle, concealed safely inside.

Once the fire died down, a figure remained, glowing eyes staring back at them.

Osomatsu !!

Orson - Slacker !!

-After the summoning didn't work, he sighed to himself, lighting up a cigarette. Shaking off most of the fire from the match, he tossed it off to the side and it so happened to land inside the circle.

-He didn't expect it to work. Not at all. But, in a drunken state, who cared if it worked or not. Worst case scenario the forest would burn down... Right?

-WRONG. Because, once the fire died down, here you stood, your eyes staring back at him.

-Orson didn't really think it'd work to begin with, but it seemed his fate had other plans for him.

-Does freak out, but once he's more calm, he's asking all sorts of questions about you and what kind of devil you are, if you catch my drift.

-Orson isn't really the...ambitious type. Figuring out how to aid him was going to be difficult.

-So, after a long moment of silence, he offers you a beer.

-You both end up talking about you, about him, about whatever it was that seemed to pop up in your heads in the moment.

-In the end, you are stuck with him. But, maybe he isn't that bad.

Karamatsu !!

Karla - Geek

-Karla was forced into doing the ritual by some people who wanted to 'hang out' and 'become friends'. Karla was skeptical, but it'd would be so rude not to accept the offer! He just had to!

-This poor idiot. (Affectionately)

-Whether you were summoned or not, he was absolutely terrified. Though, when you didn't appear, he was almost a bit...disappointed.

-One of the tormentors shoved him forward, and nearly caught himself on fire, of course he didn't but the circle sure did!

-The others ran off leaving only Karla behind, stunned by the beauty of the growing fire--his eyes are glued to the figure standing amongst the smoke.

-Probably too scared to scream, and unsure if he should be impressed, he managed to will such a being to be in his presence or absolutely terrified of you.

-He's very cautious, and more wary than most on this list. Regardless, he's enamored by you and tries and fails to play it cool.

-At least he's cute!

-Regardless of your gender or appearance or anything like that, he thinks you're beautiful.

-He stays out in the woods with you for a while until he finally realizes he doesn't know how to send you back.

-Karla apologizes profusely.

Choromatsu ...

Charlie - Nerd

(i dont like him im sorry..)

-Charlie didn't think it was going to work in the slightest. In fact, he was doing it specifically to prove a point to one of his brothers that there was no such thing as witchcraft and that they were just being idiotic or something.

-So, when it didn't work, a smug grin splayed on his lips, though he couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment deep down as he adjusted his glasses.

-Comically, his glasses accidentally lit the center on fire. He was stuck watching and panicking as the fire erupted before fading into grey smoke leaving a silhouette in its wake.

-On one hand, he's frozen in a state of fear and on the other hand, he's pissed that the summoning ritual actually worked.

-He thinks you're cute, regardless of gender/appearance. How could he be mad at you? Clearly it wasn't your or his fault!! Had to be something else to blame..

-Oh, right. It's the book's fault. It should've at least put a warning or something--anything to prevent scary demons being summoned. Just, not you though.

-At the end of the day, you can't go home, and neither can he. Charlie can't imagine what his brothers might say if they knew he actually did it..

Ichimatsu !!

Itchy - Goth

-Itchy found that book, and decided to crack it open to scare a prep that found their way wandering into the words.

-He was convinced this book was made by some witchcraft guru and that it wouldn't actually work. So, he wasn't let down when the initial ritual failed.

-Though, to drive the scare home, he tossed a small firecracker into the circle, and watched as the flames only got brighter before they died and only you remained.

-He is absolutely stunned. Staring, it takes him a moment to react. To which, he definitely loses his shit like most of everyone on this list.

-He didn't think to get this far or that it would even work. Itchy is unsure whether to apologize, panic, or bathe in the ego boost.

-Kinda just stands there and stares, unsure what to do or say. Itchy does eventually get more talkative, he just needs a minute.

-Well, at least he did manage to scare that prep in the end.

-Like Orson, he doesn't really have any ambition. It might be difficult to aid him more than most on this list, but who doesn't like a challenge.

-Trick question, but you have zero choice!

Jyushimatsu !!

Juicy - Freak

-How he got this book into his hands was unknown. He did show it off to Itchy looking for his opinion.

-Itchy didn't really think it was real, so Juicy thought it'd be fun to try out all sorts of cool things he saw.

-After maybe the third or fifth spell or something, trying and failing until his eyes caught onto the summoning page.

-Unlike his brothers, he wasn't discouraged, and kept tossing things in, changing things around before he eventually lights some book (hopefully not the spell book) on fire, and tossed it in when you finally appeared.

-He's ecstatic you finally made your arrival, and honestly is just happy it worked.

-Once you explain what you are and your lifelong purpose, it goes one ear and out the other. The first thing he asks after is how good your baseball pitch is.

-Well, at least he knows what he wants, unlike everyone else on this list.

Todomatsu !!

Todd - Messenger

-Poor Todd, similar to Karla was peer pressured or rather forced into doing the summoning ritual.

-When nothing happened, he was relived, though one of the tormentors wasn't happy with this and decided to try and light the book on fire.

-Surprise surprise, it didn't go well. Once the smallest hint of the match go close to the circle, flames erupted from the center. Eerier noises and screams before everything fell somewhat silent aside the scampering of the gaggle of guys who had left Todd behind.

-He is absolutely stunned. Unsure if it was the fact that it work or that you seemed to take him as your summoner. It was the other boys, really it was. But, apparently to you, that's not how it worked.

-You are now here to help him. A boost to his shiny ego.

-He wants revenge, not a moment too soon. A short-sighted way to see things as you are stuck with him.

-No, he doesn't want you to murder them. That would bring too much attention. What he wants is to destory their careers. Make sure they're outcasted and ruined beyond help! They might have to move towns..

-You'll help him right? Well, you kinda have to.

(Tbh I just wanted an excuse to show off these goobers more..)

#x reader #mr osomatsu #osomatsu san #osomatsu x reader #karamatsu x reader #choromatsu x reader #ichimatsu x reader #jyushimatsu x reader #todomatsu x reader #osomatsu matsuno #karamatsu matsuno #choromatsu matsuno #ichimatsu matsuno #jyushimatsu matsuno #todomatsu matsuno #ososan #mr. osomatsu #<3 #au

58 notes · View notes

wi55iams · 11 months ago

Text

Worship (noun):

1. the feeling or expression of reverence and adoration for a deity.

2. great admiration or devotion shown towards a person or principle.

I have a lot of thoughts about Carlos Sainz Jr and it's about time i shared them. I'm trying to write a fanfic but i'm finding it difficult to articulate my ideas, this was is test run of sorts to see if I can communicate a message in a way that makes sense. Enjoy. Credits under the cut.

‘Hope is the biggest of our foolish things’ -Alfred de Vingy // Mark Thompson for Getty Images // Carlos Sainz believes he deserves F1 seat // ‘To wish was to hope and to hope was to expect’ -Jane Austen // Carlos Sainz’s last race with Toro Rosso // ‘Expectations were like fine pottery. The harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack’ -Brandon Sanderson // Sky Sports // Marina And The Diamonds, Oh No! // It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story’ -Patrick Rothfuss // Medium // An ode to my father, the matador // ‘Maybe if you sleep where another person sleeps and do what that person does, then eventually you’ll start turning into that person’ -Jack Cheng // Ferrari, one name two destinies // Jos and Carlos Sr on their sons’ rookie seasons // ‘Christianity is a religion built around a father who does not rescue his son. It is the story of a son whose father is a ghost’ -Terrance Hayes // Carlos Sainz poses with his father // Jos and Carlos Sr on their sons’ rookie seasons // ‘Perhaps it’s impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be’ -Orson Scott Card // Sky Sports // Junior status; Sharing dad’s name a mixed bag // ‘Who did I think we were. Who did I think I could make you. This is the oldest mistake, to confuse wanting with magic.’ -Marty McConnell Emily Kagan Trenchard // Sainz thrilled with first podium after Hamilton penalty // The Crane Wives, The Moon Will Sing // ‘If you spent your life concentrating on what everyone else thought of you, would you forget who you really were? What if the face you showed the world turned out to be a mask... with nothing beneath it?’ -Jodi Picoult // Top Gear // Carlos Sainz: the boy who became a man // Motorsport.com // Mikky Ekko, Who Are You Really? // ‘Sometimes we want what we want even if we know it’s going to kill us’ -Donna Tartt // RacingNews365 // Max Verstappen tells Carlos Sainz ‘I felt sorry for you’ // Racefans // Carlos Sainz has openly discussed his contract regulations // CNN // Sainz wins thrilling Singapore GP // ‘Who wouldn’t want you? Whose most demonic appetite could you possibly fail to answer?’ -Louise Glück // Sky Sports // Carlos Sainz Sr Wikipedia // 'Do you still believe myths can save you? Foolish creature. Let me be clear: every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered' -Tory Adkisson // Sydney Morning Herald // Planet F1 // Luvbug, Icarus // ‘Sometimes I prayed so hard for God to materialize at the foot of my bed it would start to happen; then I’d beg it to stop, and it would.’ -Marie Howe, // ‘Click here to be saved’, unable to find original author // ‘God’s favorite follower’ by Tumblr user quiet-plaything // ‘God is fucking with my oblivion. If he wants forgiveness, he shouldn’t have given us memory’ -Vi Khi Nao // ‘What you have to understand, is your father was your model for God’ -Chcuk Palahniuk // John Mayer, In The Blood // ScuderiaFans //

#f1 #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz sr #max verstappen #f1 fanart #f1blr #f1 fandom #web weave #webweave #webweaving #god mention

96 notes · View notes

davesrightshoe · 9 months ago

Text

Corrected

Thrawn x Y/N (18+!)

cw: spanking, fingering, general mdom, inappropriate workplace dynamics

Authors Note: ahh.. so it was my birthday this weekend and I wanted to share a bit of Thrawn with y'all. This is the first smut one shot I've ever written so I'm pretty embarrassed but my friends gave me some IRL exposure therapy. I hope y'all enjoy!

You stood in front of the metallic doors of Thrawn’s office. Alone on the upper floors of the Chimera, the only sounds you heard were the ambient hum of a ship traveling across the galaxy and the nervous beating of your own heart. Your daily anxiety had spiked when you had checked your data pad near the end of your shift to find an urgent summons from the Grand Admiral. The note had held very few details, and it hadn’t been the first time he had asked for a private meeting. But this time, you knew you were in trouble because he had never summoned you to see him this late after hours, preferring to delay the meeting to the next day. You had a feeling that this all had to do with the disastrous morning you had had.

At 9:00 sharp, a delegation of high-ranking Imperial officers had arrived on the Chimera, and you had been tasked with greeting them and welcoming them onboard. Easy enough. What anyone had failed to brief you on was that it wasn’t a typical naval meeting, where Thrawn and some other Admiral would discuss strategies and plan future campaigns. No, instead you had to learn firsthand, as he walked down the shuttle ramp, that today’s esteemed guest was Orson Krennic. Director of a top secret project which you only knew the faint details of. But from the private remarks of Thrawn, you knew he was a pain in the ass to work with, a pompous brat who was too smart for his own good. He also was diverting critical funds from Thrawn’s personal projects which more than angered your Grand Admiral. Whatever he was working on, you doubted it mattered enough to get in the way of the Empire’s most talented naval strategist, but it seemed the Empire didn’t share your opinion.

Walking down, with his white cape flaring around him, he gaudily stepped onto the hanger floor and glared at the surrounding troops. God, he was pretentious. You and a unit of death troopers approached him, coming to a stop a few meters away. Before you had even finished your salute, he asked, “Where’s Thrawn?”

“The Grand Admiral is in his morning meeting with the board officers of the Chimera. He will join us after the tour.”

“Oh, kriff the tour, I came here to talk to Thrawn, and he won’t even meet me, craven bastard. Take me to him now!”

You flinched at the insult to your Admiral. “Sir, he does not wish to be disturbed presently. They are planning key details for our next attack.”

He glared down at me from his impressive stature. He really was a lot taller than you expected for someone everyone called a brat. Well, everyone being Thrawn, and Krennic was shorter than him. Maybe that’s why he hates Admiral Thrawn so much. “Well, I am ordering you, Lieutenant, to take me to him. His attack be damned.”

“Sir, I promise I will take you to him once he has finished. If you wish, we can go directly now to his office, and I will ask for his quick return.”

“I hope I do not have to explain to you the weight a Director has on even naval careers. It would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting. Take me to him at once.”

“Sir, I will speak with him now,” you say, pulling out your data pad and opening a commlink with Thrawn. “Grand Admiral, I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting, but the Director is requesting an immediate meeting with you.”

“Lieutenant,” his sibilant voice poured out the commlink’s speakers, “I am in a meeting with my chief combatants. I specified that we are not to be disturbed.” Even though his voice was as calm as ever, you could hear the warning in his tone. He had given you a clear specification of how this day would go, and you were messing with his plans. And if there was anyone whose plans you should not disrupt, it was most definitely Grand Admiral Thrawn.

“I’m sorry, sir, but he has been most adamant that he wishes for an audience now.” You risked a glance at the Director who stood waiting with crossed arms. All he needed to do was stamp his feet and pout his lip and he’d be the textbook picture of a petulant child.

“Well then, Lieutenant, you must find a way to entertain him until I am finished.” He quickly shut off the line, and you were left in silence with the prissy Director. Gathering a deep breath, you prepared to tell Krennic that he’d have to wait for the Admiral to be done.

“Director, he has clarified that he will not be disturbed. Would you like to accompany me to the Grand Admiral’s office where he will shortly return?” Maker, I hope he accepts this.

“Take me to him now,” he commanded.

“Sir, I cannot he has specified that ---”

“I don’t give a shit what he told you, some junior officer won’t stop me from talking to that bastard” and he stormed off into the main hallway. You ran after him, scrambling for something you could do to stop this from getting worse.

“Sir, if you would just accompany me to Admiral Thrawn’s office, I could arrange for you to ---”

“Is he in his office right now?”

“No, sir.”

“Then take me wherever the kriff he is.”

“Sir, even if I took you there you wouldn’t be able to get in without clearance.” You slid to a halt in the hallway when Director Krennic suddenly turned around and started marching towards you.

“I’m a damn director of the Empire, you think there is anywhere I can’t get in?” He angrily waved a hand around his head. “Every inch of this star destroyer is unrestricted to me. Your Grand Admiral included!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but you wouldn’t be able to enter. Grand Admiral Thrawn is very particular about the security. You need his personal access.”

“Do you have personal access?”

“y… yes,” you stuttered. You really didn’t want to take him to Thrawn after Thrawn had told you to leave him alone, but it wasn’t like you could lie to him.

“Well then, take me to the room, and let me in.” He said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world. As if you weren’t about to go against Thrawn’s explicit command.

“Sir, again, the Admiral told me that he was not to be disturbed.”

“And again, kriff what he said,” he snapped his head to a trooper. “Trooper, do you know where the Grand Admiral is?” The trooper hesitantly nodded. “Good man, now take me there before I have to pry open every door on this blasted ship myself.”

Maker, this was just getting worse and worse.

It hadn’t been very pretty, when the lock doors had opened on the Chimera’s boardroom to reveal you, the Death Troopers, and Director Krennic with your code cylinder in his hand. Thrawn’s eyes had locked on yours, and his dissatisfied and annoyed gaze burned into your soul. You felt deeply ashamed for failing him. And now 12 hours later, you were going to pay the price.

Telling yourself to pull it together, you put your code cylinder into the receiver outside Thrawn’s door. The sound of the door sliding open reminded you of the morning again, bringing an embarrassed flush to your checks.

“I’m glad to see your ashamed of your actions, Lieutenant.” Thrawn sat behind his desk with a displeased look. His frown cut your heart because you knew you had finally disappointed him. Unknown to many, but you actually had a soft spot for the Grand Admiral, and you always worked hard to please him. Only you knew the way your heart flipped when he would spare you a small smile or the rare “Good work, Lieutenant.” It was wrong to feel that way about your superior, but you couldn’t help but admire the talented Grand Admiral. He had a tremendous, ambitious mind, and a strikingly handsome face. Distinctly alien, but handsome nonetheless. But none of that mattered now, you had let him down and it hurt.

“Stand before me, Lieutenant” That was new, he usually told you to sit. Your heart sped up, you weren’t sure where this was going, but you had a bad feeling. You silently nodded and moved to a stiff parade rest before him.

Thrawn stood and moved around his desk to begin slowly pacing circles around you. Once he had reappeared in your sight line, he addressed you. “Have you nothing to say for yourself? I clearly dictated to you that he was not to enter my meeting, and yet you disobeyed me.”

“Sir, I’m deeply sorry, I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He asked the Death Trooper to show him the board room and then he took my code cylinder. I didn’t intend for him to ---” The words that had rushed so quickly out of your mouth were promptly cut off by Thrawn’s harsh tone.

“Enough, I am not looking for your excuses. Explain to me why you thought it was appropriate to blatantly disobey my orders.”

“I tried sir, I did. But he wanted to speak with you at once.”

“And why did you not bring him to my office to wait? That would have been the prudent thing to do.” The way Thrawn’s eyes cut through you hurt. He now doubted your ability to do a simple task. You had worked so hard to impress him and prove myself as a competent and dependable soldier; his disappointment was shattering.

“Sir, I asked him to accompany me, but he refused and demanded an audience.” But even as you said it, you knew Thrawn wouldn’t accept this. I gave it all away, I should have been smarter.

“And you could not think of anything better? You could have taken him here and told him you would go summon me. He would have been left to his own devices here where he was contained.”

“Sir, I—I’m sorry.”

“I have heard your apologies.” He huffed, “but it will not do. You are my officer, you must learn to manage these situations. I thought you were intelligent enough to serve me.” His red eyes flamed as he berated you for your incompetent handling of the situation. “Did I overestimate your abilities?”

“No sir!” Your voice cracked in panic “I promise I strive only to serve you. I failed you today, but I will do everything in my power to amend my behavior, sir.”

“We shall see.” A sliver of hope bloomed in your chest, was there still a chance for you? “Now, get on your knees.”

“Sir?” You asked, confused. Where was he going with this?

“Oh, dear. Is today to be such a difficult day for you, Lieutenant. I said, get on your knees.” He came up behind you and pressed his hands down on your shoulders until you bent your knees and landed on your kneecaps. “Good. But for the rest of our time together, I would prefer not to repeat myself. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you were shaken. You had no idea what was going on. This reminded you of some of your more illicit nighttime fantasies, but Thrawn was never this angry or commanding. You always imagined him as strict but with a loving hand.

“Very well. Then we may begin” He removed his hands from your shoulders, and they burned from his contact. “What did I specify to you about today’s meeting?”

“You said not to disturb you, sir.”

“Yes, and then why was I disturbed?”

“I—I, I didn’t follow your orders, sir.”

“Correct, you let that ass interrupt my briefing.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you were starting to tear up. All the anxiety and stress from the day was starting to catch up with you, and you couldn’t handle Thrawn’s displeasure with you right now. You just wanted to make it all better and go back to being his perfect assistant. “Please, sir, let me make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh, do not fret, my dear, we shall see about that.” He pushed a hand into your hair, grasping the back of your head and pushing gaze down at the floor. He crouched down, bringing his mouth a centimeter from your ear. “As it is, I think you should pay with your ass, as they say, ‘an eye for an eye’.”

You jumped turning to look at him, but he was faster, tightening his grip on your hair and keeping your eyes pinned on the ground. He tsked. “Ah, no, Lieutenant, you must be good and accept your punishment. Did you not just say you wanted to ‘make it up to me.’ Now, listen well and do as I say, or else I will be very displeased.” Hearing Thrawn’s words over you brought goosebumps to your skin. You couldn’t believe he was really saying this to you.

“Yes, sir.” Your voice came out hoarsely, even if you were brave enough to admit it, a bit husky.

“Good Girl. Now get over my desk.”

Your core throbbed. This was like every sick fantasy combined together and you weren’t sure if you could take it all, but at the same time you would die if it stopped.

“I think fifteen will be enough to reinforce for you the importance of obeying your Grand Admiral. Do you agree, ch'otcavurt in'a?”

“Yes, sir.” You were starting to wonder if this day was just a horrifyingly realistic dream, a figment of your unconscious psyche that had begun to unravel after so many years of a high stress and low sleep environment.

“Good, let us begin.” He unbuckled her belt and pulled down her regulation trousers to expose her underwear. Embarrassed, she tightened her grip on the edge of the desk and braced for it to begin. But instead of a harsh sting, she was rewarded with the soft touch of his hands as he slid her panties down. Only the extended edge of her tunic covered her bare ass. Her nerves felt like they were riding the razer edge of the fabric covering her from flashing Thrawn.

“We can’t let this get in the way,” he said, folding the tunic over and removing the final protection of her dignity.

You jumped at the initial strike, gasping from the shock and pain. Definitely not a dream! “Shhh be still, this is a punishment.” You took deep breaths trying to prepare yourself for the next blow, but even as it came you knew you were done for. You doubted he was using his entire strength, even still the sharp sting threw off your concentration. All thoughts of Krennic and the morning were shoved away, as you lay in nervous anticipation of the next blow.

Thrawn took his time, giving you ample opportunity to tense and untense your muscles before his eventual slap came. He varied the location and pressure, not wanting you to acclimate to the punishment. The fourth strike brought out a pained groan. And on the seventh Thrawn gave you a particularly hard smack to your right cheek. You openly moaned.

“Are you enjoying this, Lieutenant?” You couldn’t see his face, but you had a suspicion he was smirking. You ground your forehead into the desk and pulled yourself together to respond.

“No, sir,” you strained to keep your voice even, despite how desperately you wanted to start begging him to fuck you.

“Wrong choice, Lieutenant, that’s another added for lying.” He brought down his hand to give you a matching red handprint on your left ass cheek. And then you heard something that took your breath away. Thrawn groaned. “That’s right, Ch'itses'o bustucah, take your punishment. Your ass is so beautiful with my hand printed on it. Like a painting. I should take a photo and hang it above my desk.” His hand went down your back, massaging your sore behind. “Ahh, but no photo would be worthy, as I have seen the original print.” He chuckled at his own joke and smacked you again.

You hissed and pushed your ass back towards him, openly inviting him to continue his onslaught. “Now this is very encouraging. My disobedient brat is eager for her correction. Only a few more until all is forgiven.” And the air was filled with the staccato slaps of Thrawn’s hand on your flesh. The last blow he aimed at your left check, leaving a flush red handprint in its wake.

But just as quickly as they had rained down smacks, his hands dropped to softly caress and soothe the sore skin on your backside. “Hush now, Ch’eo visahot, you did very well. Let your Grand Admiral take care of you.” His calming words soothed your nerves, as your body fought the wave of endorphins and adrenaline which the spanking had raised in you. Your mind was at rest, and all of your stress and anxiety was replaced by a quiet contented buzz. After a few minutes, his massaging and gentle support had you fighting the weighted pull of sleep. “Come here, darling, stand up now. You deserve to rest on something softer than my desk.” Thrawn’s hands slipped under your hips encouraging you to put your weight on him as he guided you around his desk and to sit on his lap in his armchair.

You hissed at the contact of your sore ass with his thigh. The softness of his chest though encouraged you to lean your back into him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and stroked your upper thigh, which twitched in response at the proximity of his hand to your cunt. With his ever observant eyes, your nervous convulsion didn’t escape him, and he repeated the action. You turned your face towards him to find a smirk resting on his lips. “Would you like me to stop, Besbi.”

“No,” you whispered, turning your face back to watch as his hand crept up your thigh till he stopped at the apex of your legs. He waited there stroking small up and down trails, working you up but never giving you exactly what you wanted.

“What did you say? You must speak louder,” he intoned, his hand never straying from his teasing motions.

“Please don’t stop,” you managed to say without stuttering. Thrawn rewarded you by finally swiping a finger across your folds. The contact stole a whimper from your lips. He answered you, by deepening his contact, swirling his thumb over your clit before plunging his fingers into you. Your gasp was accompanied by his groan as you clenched around his fingers.

The alternatively curled and twisted his hand to stimulate you. A quick study, he learned how to draw out loud moans from you within minutes. Soon you were writhing on his lap, completely heedless of the pain from your spanking. Thrawn praised you, telling you how beautiful you looked on his fingers. The combination of his words and actions pushed you to your release. Your climax came quickly, with you gasping his name.

Turning your boneless body around, Thrawn pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Ch'itt'teehah ch'eo ch'acah”. Without thinking too hard about the impropriety of the entire situation, you slipped your arms around his neck and laid your head on his chest. You didn’t know if you could think about anything too hard at that moment, completely drained as you were. Thrawn let you take your time to recover, gently drawing circles into your back and whispering Cheunh phrases to lull you to sleep.

Dividers from @cafekitsune

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn fanfiction #thrawn #davesrightshoe #thrawn smut

73 notes · View notes

breakerwhiskey · 2 months ago

Text

261 - TWO HUNDRED SIXTY ONE

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit atypicalartists.co/support.

If you'd like to send Whiskey a message, click here.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

Breaker, breaker, this is whiskey calling out to one and all.

[click, static]

Hi, everybody. I know it's been a minute. I’m—I'm weirdly nervous talking to you now. Now that I know that people are listening. Now that I know that people across infinite timelines are listening, it's a lot of pressure. I feel like I have a little inkling of what Jean Shepard would have felt getting on the radio every night, except I actually think I probably have more listeners than Jean, which yeah, I actually can't think about that very much or I will get even more nervous.

[static]

As an update because some of you have seemed curious— we’re doing good, I think. Not too much has changed since my last transmission. We're still where we were, although I think we're going to have to head down the mountain soon. The weather is changing and I don't think we want to be here when the snow comes. Well, when the snow really comes, there is already snow because we're that high up. But we can't survive a winter here, not with how thin these walls are. As for where we go next, I don't know. I know I probably won't be telling you. Not because I don't want you guys to know, but because. Well, you know, people may be listening and I don't want to invite any more trouble than I already am inclined to do, just living my life.

[static]

Harry and I are good for the most part. I mean, we've had a few blow up, knock down, drag out fights. Well, you know, a dozen, maybe. Nothing— nothing earth shattering, just the usual. Although now we have a a different mode of conflict resolution, by which I mean we actually make attempts at conflict resolution now and in a way that I think is very productive. Maybe not talking things out as much as we should, but I don't think either of us can complain. So. Yeah, we're. We're okay.

Not much else to report. Not much has changed. Haven't heard from Birdie or from Fox since that last big transmission, but I have been hearing from a lot of you. We spend most of our days sifting through all the different messages we get. Some of them are like this, and a lot of them are Morse code, which I don't think either of us were expecting necessarily. But it's nice to have somebody else with me to translate the Morse code.

One of you…one of you sent a morse code message asking if this was real. You said it was a cool project and that that threw me because does that mean that somehow you, whoever you were that send that message, you're back in the normal world and this was coming through on your normal radio and you thought, hey, maybe there's another Orson Welles joint or something of that kind. Does this sound like a story to you? Like I'm just an actor pretending to be somebody stuck somewhere. I—I’m glad that you thought it was cool. In any case, I don't know that I would categorize it that way because it's my life, but yeah.

Yeah, it’s real.

[static]

#breaker whiskey #audio drama #episode #transcript #Spotify

28 notes · View notes

99tech99 · 5 months ago

Text

A/N: I went to Yosemite, Zion, Bryce National Parks (US) recently and the trees were unlike ANYTHING I had ever experienced. I thought it would be sweet for reader to experience nature for the first time. These pictures are from my phone (unedited). The first is from the foot of El Capitan in Yosemite, the second is from the Emerald Pools trail in Zion, and the last is in the ascent to Thor’s Hammer in Bryce. The last one is a touch distorted because I had to use pano because the trees were literally too tall to fit in the frame.

WARNINGS: none?? well i guess sort of low key suggestive at the end.

1.5k words under cut

“What are those I wonder?” You and Director Krennic were in his chauffeured speeder winding through the skylanes of Coruscant. You pointed at the huge, illuminated holoboard you were passing.

“The trees?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes impatiently. “No, no. There!” The display changed. “Oh, you missed it. There was an advert for Star Tours, a trip to some moon. It was showing these huge brown cylindrical towers with tubes sticking out, all covered in green.”

“I saw it. You mean the trees?” he asked again with a quizzical frown.

“No! I know what trees are, Orson,” you said impatiently. “They’re…” you raised a hand above your head, then spread your arms wide, trying to pantomime “tree.”

“Alright.” He was smiling at you, clearly trying not to laugh. Whenever the two of you disagreed, he treated you like a precocious toddler. It vexed you to no end.

You gave up trying to explain. “I know what trees are,” you grumbled. “Never mind.” You crossed your arms and settled back into the seat of the speeder. Krennic was still smirking annoyingly at you. You ignored him and privately deciding that they must be some sort of communication towers. But why in the galaxy a moon would need such an abundance of comms towers or why anyone would want to visit them was a mystery to you.

***

“I win, you know,” Krennic announced a few weeks later, entering the drawing room of his apartment. You looked up from his couch where you were curled up reading the latest batch of ISB files on your datapad.

“Oh, I’m sure you think you do,” you replied with a wry smile. “What have you won?”

“Your birthday. I have just arranged the most perfect present for you. It took quite some doing. I’ve rather outdone myself, in fact, which is saying something.”

You groaned and set your datapad aside. “Ugh, every year I tell you that I do not want or need anything for my birthday. It’s not even for another month!”

“And yet, I am always compelled to do something deplorably extravagant.” He sat down on the end of the couch and pulled your legs across his lap. “Besides, I would think you would look forward to your birthday. With each passing year, it becomes slightly less inappropriate for you to be involved with me.”

You laughed and tossed a pillow at him. “Only if you plan to quit aging, old man.”

With a scandalized expression, he tossed the pillow back at you. You dodged it. “If anything about our relationship ever becomes appropriate, I may have to leave out of sheer boredom,” you teased.

“Noted,” he said, drawing you in for a kiss. “In that case, I will very inappropriately ask you to dinner, then very inappropriately invite you to stay with me tonight, so we can very inappropriately leave first thing tomorrow.”

“Simply scandalous,” you agreed, “but I can rarely refuse you.

“Where are we going?” you asked, knowing full well he would never tell you.

“Now, now, my dear,” said Krennic standing up and pulling you to your feet. “There’s no fun in spoiling a surprise.”

***

He took the element of the surprise of your present extremely seriously. He wouldn’t even allow you to pack, saying he had taken care of everything already. Indeed, when you got to the landing pad of his private shuttle the next morning, you saw your luggage already waiting. Krennic refused to give the pilot the coordinates of your destination aloud, transmitting them directly to the navicomputer instead. And when the ship was just about to drop out of hyperspace, he produced a blindfold.

“Really, Orson? That’s not a bit extreme?” you questioned.

“Not at all,” he replied. He stood behind you, but instead of securing the silk around over your eyes, he fastened a delicate silver chain around your neck. You glanced down. An irregularly-shaped shard of bright green crystal dangled from the chain against your chest. You knew at once what it must be, but you couldn’t believe Krennic would be so bold as to abscond a piece for you. But there was nothing else in the galaxy it could be. It was Kyber.

“Is this…?” you asked.

“Happy birthday my love.” He kissed your cheek and tied the silk band around your head.

In a moment you felt the gentle lurch as the ship fell out of hyperspace and began its decent to the planet’s surface.

The pilot made a smooth landing. When the shuttle ramp lowered, you strained your ears for a clue of where you might be. You heard the faintest but most melodious chimes.

Krennic took you by the hand and led you down the ramp. The ground beneath your feet felt soft yet stable beneath your boots. Krennic paused and you stopped too. The most wonderful scent filled your nostrils. You had never smelled anything like it in your life. It was sharp and sweet and spice-like, all at the same time. You stood, inhaling deeply, savoring the freshness of the air. All at once, you realized the sound you had not heard chimes, but birds.

“Do you know where we are?” Krennic asked.

You shook your head.

Krennic removed your blindfold. You blinked in the brilliant sunlight. It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the brightness. Then you gasped.

You were surrounded by dozens and dozens and hundreds of the structures you had seen on the holoboard all those weeks ago. Only they weren’t artificial towers. They really, truly were…

“Trees!” you whispered. You let go of Krennic’s hand and took a step toward the nearest one. You became aware of your heart pounding in your chest. Stretching trembling fingers toward the tree, you paused, then gently pressed your whole palm into the trunk. The cracked, rough bark felt like nothing else you had ever touched. You swore you could feel the life of the tree, pulsing through it, coursing into you.

Craning your neck, you tried to look through the branches to the very top. Peeking through the needle-like leaves was the bluest sky you had ever seen. Looking down, you marveled at the dappled sunlight dancing on the needle-strewn earth. The breeze tousled your hair as you wandered, trancelike, from one tree to the next.

These couldn’t be real, they just couldn’t. You could not comprehend how anything so massive and beautiful and strong could spontaneously exist in nature, independent of any human intervention. It was simply sacred. You stood still, your face tilted toward the sun in a clearing as though wanting to become one with the forest.

Krennic, however, was paying no attention to the trees or birds or sky. His eyes never left your face, and in his estimation, you had never appeared more radiant. He took a step toward you, accidentally snapping a twig.

You jumped. You had all but forgotten he was there.

“Do you like your gift?” he asked.

“Orson Callan Krennic!” you accused.

“Now how can I possibly be in trouble?” he protested, taking your hands in his.

“Only you…” you shook your head in mock annoyance.

“Mm, yes, only I am capable of many things my dear. I’m afraid you’re going to have to narrow that down.”

“Only you could devise a scenario wherein you are able to magnanimously bestow this grand gesture of a present to me, with the hidden motivation of proving yourself correct.”

Smiling mischievously, Krennic kissed your hands. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” His expression grew serious. “I would give you the galaxy if it were mine to confer. As things stand, this will have to suffice.”

You kissed him hard. “Thank you Orson. This trip was perfect. Can we please stay a while longer?”

Krennic tilted his head and gave you a sly smile. “The trip is not your present.”

Your hand touched your necklace.

“No…This,” he gestured, spreading his arms wide, “is your present.”

“The…forest?” you asked, confused.

“The whole moon,” he clarified.

It took a moment for what he was saying to sink in. Your eyes grew huge. “The whole—You bought me—Can you even do that??” you asked weakly.

“Can one in general buy a moon? No. But as you said last night, darling, I’m a difficult man to refuse.

“The forest moon of Endor. Doesn’t currently have its own name, but you can obviously call it whatever you like.” He continued on about the mass of the moon and length of day and the planet it orbited and other specs, but you weren’t comprehending.

An entire moon? He would give you the galaxy? Your head was swimming. In a dreamlike daze you kissed him again.

“It’s too much,” you said.

“It is, isn’t it?” he concurred, immensely pleased with your reaction.

You smiled flirtatiously. “I’ll need to thank you properly, won’t I?”

You could feel him getting hard already. “Yes, I think you better,” he agreed. “More than once?” he added hopefully.

You laughed. “Yes, love. All night.”

Back to the Master List!

Tag List! Message me to be added! Remember, reblogs are love ❤️

@znerac

@msjackson1073

@sinker003

@empresskrennic

@shelveddoll

@traveller-of-word-and-screen

@perfecttimemachinestranger

@allthebestscreennamesaregone63

@dinathalawriter

@missunsympathetic

@starladyy

@enaelyork

@hottpinkpenguin

@starwh0ers

@kaminokatie

@nahoney22

#star wars #director krennic x reader #director krennic #krennic #orson krennic #star wars fan fic #star wars fluff #99tech99 writes

28 notes · View notes

colleybri · 1 month ago

Text

Which Rogue One characters should make an appearance in Andor Season 2 ?

^ Orson Krennic. Would be so great if we got a scene with him and… Partagaz? Dedra?!

Casting spoilers and speculation below…

Apart from Cassian, Mon, Melshi and Saw, we now know that K2SO is making his chronological debut, and we’re getting more Krennic. General Draven - Cassian’s commanding officer - can also be glimpsed in the D23 leaked trailer. Mads Mikkelsen is appearing at Star Wars Celebration 2025, fuelling speculation that Galen Erso might be in Season 2.

^ The wonderful Mads Mikkelsen as Galen Erso. I remember whimpering with joy when I first saw he was in this film.

My own point of view? I love Rogue One but I prefer Andor if forced to choose (though I’m excited by Diego Luna’s repeated assertions that after season 2, it will be like watching a completely different film ) and for that reason I don’t want any less screen time for my season 1 favourites. Especially those who I think still have a lot of growth/story to come: Syril, Mon, Bix and Vel. But seeing as the final arc happens merely days before Rogue One begins - and the final scene will literally be Cassian departing for the Ring of Kafrene to meet Tivik the informant - it makes sense for Tony Gilroy to enhance the links to the film.

There are some characters who I would like to see and some who it would make sense to be there. Bail Organa perhaps - he’s clearly known to Mon. Mon even knows about his links to Obi-Wan (“your friend - the Jedi”). He would be a good character to have at least in the background, as an explanation for an increasing awareness of the Force (even in an unlikely character such as Cassian) . Maybe. Not essential though, and I wouldn’t be fussed either way.

The characters who make most sense to me and who I would really like to see : Tivik and - IF we’re getting Galen - Bodhi Rook. Tivik because Cassian clearly knows him and has met him before. An appearance by him – especially if we see the sister that Cassian and Jyn were supposed to be meeting with on Jedha - could add a lot of weight to the scene where… Cassian is forced to off him. You know, deliberately depriving a sister of her brother and all that. What with his own history. And there goes another little sliver of his soul…(This is one of the scenes that Tony Gilroy added in the reshoots in order to enhance the sacrifice theme.)

^ Alas, poor Tivik. With that great big red flag of a wounded arm . Among the all-time greats of “Characters who were unceremoniously shot dead by Cassian Andor”.

I love the film, but the opening 20 minutes or so is pretty confusing and fast moving and we’re given no explanation about why Galen trusted Bodhi enough to give him the hologram message for Saw. This is my biggest personal wish. I would really love to see a scene between Galen and Bodhi. To find out a bit more about this relationship and how it was built up. Bodhi obviously has a great deal of affection and respect for Galen. It doesn’t need to be much or long, but I think it would really enhance the film.

Bodhi Rook - arguably Rogue One’s least developed main character. Could Andor’s final arc do something about that?

Jyn Erso? With apologies to my Rebelcaptain-loving friends, I can’t realistically imagine a scene where Cassian is staring at her hologram image, simply because that wouldn’t happen before the Rogue One Tivik scene - the Alliance only then start looking for her as a possible way to track down Galen and gain safe access to Saw. But there is a hope that she might pop up at least as a mention in any Galen and Bodhi scene, or perhaps via Saw - who looked after her all those years. Maybe even Luthen knows about her in some way from that time.

^ Jyn Erso - might we get a mention or even a glimpse?

For the same reason, I don’t think we’ll see anything of Baze or Chirrut - it makes sense for their first appearance to be in the film.

One more wishlist request from me. Bor Gullet. The alien who works for Saw as a mind-reader. I would really like a little backstory there. No, really. I’m fascinated. (Might Bor even be retconned as a surviving Dizonite?!)

^ Bor Gullet will know your thoughts! The unfortunate side-effect is that one tends to lose one’s mind.. (though not for very long, apparently!)

Over to you. Re-blog or comment with your wish list.

I have a feeling we’re going to love you all over again, K2!

17 notes · View notes

bloodsadx · 5 months ago

Note

i really appreciate your work. the first thing that struck me when i first read was the depiction of acne of course. Stark red on mainly black pieces. Disappearing as it fades from your perception but always there by implication and the way it informs. It feels real in a way most depictions don't.

As an artist i respect and relate to, I was wondering if you have words for something. I've released critical writing to decent success, but have found that what actually draws people is the person that leaks into the critique. But I can't harness that intentionally. I'm fairly dissociative and barely know myself, nor how to relate that self to others.

Your works feel personal and critical, in a sorta coherent flux. I wish to learn that, but I'm someone that eats their nails ig. Nothing leaves my body without a filter. Beyond attempting to grow out of that critical isolation, do you have any reading, art, concepts to explore? If not, i appreciate the consideration. keep it real

the first thing i wanna say is thank you. the second thing i wanna say is that absolutely being a critic who has a following or success is more about having a cult of personality than having strong critical faculties. but i think the best critics have their personalities in part molded around their critical faculties, and having rigorously lived in some kind of way which matches and performs the kind of standards they purport to hold media to they gain a large degree of authenticity. but being a critic is also heavily about persuasion and through relating and story telling you can really draw someone into your arguments. so to that end having a strong voice and living a bespoke life defined by a unique and Personal personhood is definitely like, a goal that i think is like, inseparable from being able to not only like talk about art but to experience and communicate about experiences gained from art.

and so i really think just doing stuff and taking risks and living hard and painfully and reflectively and full of vulnerability is important to being better at doing that. and i think thats true of any kind of art. i think a good example to me is someone like tim rogers, who, by design has obfuscated much of his forward facing personality and brand, but also has created or purports to have created like a doppelganger of himself anyway which represents the arguments hes making. and his lived experience often serves, whether ironically or sincerely, as a basis for the core of his various experiences. and maybe more importantly to what you asked, the navel gazing memoir esque rants he goes on allow people to construct a personal version of that character which seems real and allows them to relate and Care about his arguments. and he has a very big and dedicated following. selling authenticity and boisterousness. you got dunkey and orson welles doing the same shit. and maybe another very important thing with these particular figures to me is that they didn’t necessarily want to be critics, didn’t show up to the conversation choosing to be perceived as Sideliners, but actively are or were people who created and then talked about stuff.

as far as my own work, i make things which are honest and lies and i make fun of myself freely and i say stupid things and make art that is so vulnerable and honest at times to the point of damaging myself and my personal relationships. i openly embarrass myself but intentionally and unintentionally. i have a like genuine personal belief in the fact that being vulnerable and naive and sincere makes art better and so i have actively for a long time sought to be better at doing that. and art to me is in part a release and the way in which i express the things im thinking has been honed through long periods of obsessive angst and self seriousness as well as detachment and self hatred. i spend most of my life doing stuff that isn’t making art, like walking 10-15 miles a day or drinking at bars with my friends or working for weeks straight in an empty studio, often until i become devastated or empassioned by something, and then i vomit everything i’m feeling through some kind of metaphor sometimes and other times just nakedly. i listen to a lot of emo music and am obsessed with publicly vulnerable figures in art like kanye or phil elvrum or lil peep or whatever. i don’t know. it’s taken me a long time to find the footing i have and it’s been a constant process to keep it, and i often lose it, and i am honestly and probably visibly even extremely concerned with my own work to the point i am regularly reanalyzing it and making insular self references. a big thing for me when i made my first zine (AND IM TIRED OF FEELING FEELING, which is mostly bad) and then after that my first book (MANIFESTO) was the concept to me of beginning to make my own emotional vocabulary. and i mean literally i thought of and planned out a series of things and events and symbols which i could attempt to define and talk about so that they would be like, recorded, and then i would be able to, in all of my own further work, respond to my own failures and successes in doing that. and i think most people don’t do that so deliberately, but for me i think being very intentional and analytical and like structurally aware of how art is designed comes most naturally to me when i’m Reflecting and then doing that reflection work constantly allows me to, when i am in Making mode, vomit stuff that is even slightly meaningful to anybody. my art is a conversation with myself and little fake cartoons of parts of myself or my reactions to the world around me. sometimes to the point of being nauseating LOL!

well i hope any of that helps you. i just sincerely recommend going crazy and like doing stuff thats crazy and seems like stuff u maybe wouldnt ever experience. i think sometimes i think of myself as doing gonzo journalism on like extremely mundane stuff where im like yeah im gonna go to this boring party that sucks but im doing it as a student of the world of boring parties that suck. sometimes u just gotta put urself in a position.

#from the mind of the author

24 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jane Fonda:

"I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."

#eartha kitt #jane fonda #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 6

757 notes · View notes

prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 4 months ago

Text

medialog june 2k24

watched

wordplay - rewatched this documentary about crosswords and particularly about the annual crossword tournament put on by will shortz while waiting for the anesthesia from my wisdom tooth extraction to wear off and found it about as charming as i remembered... i love a doc about a subculture made up of endearing nerds. i first saw it when it came out and on revisit it also has some intensely 2004 vibes - in particular jon stewart shows up as one of their crossword-fans talking heads and it really brought home for me how influential he was on the development of internet tone (like to this day the reason so many people on reddit sound Like That is because they're trying to be jon stewart and failing...)

the bourne ultimatum - movie go zoom zoom! still not convinced matt damon can act

artists and models - i had never seen a dean martin/jerry lewis film before and i don't really want to again but i'm glad i saw this one (this is how i feel about the two (2) wes anderson movies i've seen, and also pulp fiction & tarantino). some great colors & costumes, a plot that goes surprisingly bonkers in a final third turn that reminds you it was the cold war (between that and all the stuff about comics & violence this one also functions as a real time capsule), and (my main reason for watching) shirley maclaine the love of my life is so adorable and funny as a daffy sweetheart in a role that really lets her (a former dancer) show off her gift for physical comedy.

the secret garden - the cast in this movie is so good, including the children in the starring roles, and while it doesn't even attempt to do anything with the book's deranged relationship with things like the british empire and the concept of disability, watching it really did bring me back to why the book has been so beloved - the fantasy at its heart is ultimately about hard humble work paying off and about friends teaching each other to be nicer, which are i think deeply appealing narratives for children in a way that people sometimes forget. it's so funny that part of what cures mary and colin of their bad personalities is meeting another unhappy rich child for the very first time!

humanist vampire seeking consenting suicidal person - this was slight but sweet, a darkly funny romcom with some style and heart. also i had never seen a french-canadian movie before i don't think and it was a fun surprise to hear them talking like "frenchfrenchfrenchfrenchRRRRfrenchfrenchRRRR." not an accent with which i have much familiarity!

jurassic park - my somewhat inexplicable, even to me, aversion to raiders of the lost ark had me avoiding action spielberg for basically my whole life but i gave this a shot thinking maybe i would appreciate it if not enjoy it and was absolutely GLUED to the screen from about five minutes in. i understand why other directors are like that about spielberg now, and also what jj abrams is trying to do all the time and failing because he doesn't understand how it actually works. this is like the most famous movie in the world basically and i've seen so many clips from it over the years and yet even waiting for them and expecting them to come i was ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT! like WOW! truly a movie that feels like a theme park ride more than any other i've seen except maybe fury road. anyway as you statistically speaking probably already know this movie absolutely rocks, and not just for (1) laura dern and (2) jeff goldblum with his tits out.

citizen kane - spent the last weekend in june at two different marches & closed it out sunday night with a screening of the movie that made me bisexual <3 one day i'll figure out a way to articulate how this movie did what it did to me but for now i will just say that it is great and its reputation is deserved and orson welles is one of the most entertaining screen presences of all time and it looks so cool and beautiful all the way through and it is so so so so gay

interview with a vampire season 2 - my opinion on this is at this point well established lol finally some good fucking food!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

read

megan abbott, the turnout - this & the zadie smith book are further steps in me catching up with authors i lost track of during some bad reading years! when i heard that megan abbott was coming out with a book about sisters who run a ballet school i was like LOL because that's like the peak ultimate megan abbott premise (girls and the nastiness of both feelings and bodies and ambition and hunger and an atmosphere of nightmares and filth and the insane dynamics of a tightly knit but deeply dysfunctional world, all to the nth power), and guess what as a megan abbott fan i loved it :) all the bad reviews on goodreads for this are like "why is this book so gross? why is she sexualizing the nutracker? there were scenes in this book that made me feel dirty reading them. way too much focus on the wet leotard crotches of little girls" and i was sickos dot jpg the whole time. but actually i think the reason that this wound up being my favorite abbott since dare me is that at its core it's a book about a woman with an unbelievably fucked up childhood due to her incredibly fucked up dead parents and the suspense that gives the book its tension and its form is less about what's going to happen with the plot and more about whether she is at any point going to put it together that the things that happened to her when she was young were actually bad; the further the book goes, the more deeply you understand the walls of denial and distortion around her entire life. it rules.

david j. skaal, something in the blood: the untold story of bram stoker, the man who wrote dracula - as previously mentioned, i have some real qualms with some of his dracula readings, but overall i found this an addictively pleasurable tome - 600 pages and he kept them turning the whole time. i love a biography that starts off with some background on medieval ireland, you know? skaal is a good writer with an engaging but learned style, and the book is clearly both exhaustively researched and intended for popular audiences (albeit popular audiences who have definitely read dracula, but, i mean, who else is reading 600 pages about this guy?); reading it often feels something like having a drink with a professor who knows his stuff and is NOT afraid to gossip. dracula qualms aside i may investigate some of his other books, particularly his book on dracula screen adaptations, since i'm curious about those but don't necessarily want to, like, watch most of them, lol

bonnie jo campbell, the waters - book club book that was objectively certainly not terrible and which had some things i did like or appreciate, like an 11 year old girl obsessed with math (representation matters...) but which i found just about the most boring thing i have read in my life. like i would definitely say campbell is a better writer than, say, taylor jenkins reid (to name another book club book) or whatsherface who wrote the book of fried green tomatoes which we also read las year... but i found those books much more aggravating but also easier to get through than this book, which really requires you to have some level investment in, like, the natural world of rural michigan, but mostly made me feel so glad i don't live in a small town where all the men have guns.

zadie smith, swing time - it's funny because when i started this i was spending a lot of time thinking about how maybe plot and structure have become underrated, but then this was like a very long book written in the style of someone just kind of talking at you about their life, with plot events technically happening but never feeling like the driving force of the book, and i was totally riveted, which was a good reminder that you can get away with anything if you're a genius! smith is just such a keen observer of people and how they operate, and so allergic to relying on any kind of obvious assumptions about the relationships between demographics & personality or beliefs, even as demographic realities are such a key part of the fabric of the book... i was a little worried i would be disappointed by the fact that she abandoned the modernist-leaning experimentation of NW for a more straightforward, even chatty, style, but "you can get away with it if you're a genius" applies to that too. this book is also an absolute masterclass in the universal through the specific - i cannot emphasize how much literally not one thing the protagonist experiences has ever happened to me, how much our lives and backgrounds and personalities overlap not at all, and yet constantly i found myself aching with resonance over things like "it's so true that's what it's like when you have a mom" or "that really is what it feels like when you are young and sort of smart but also sort of stupid" (which if i were to define it briefly is i think more or less what the book is about).

listened

charli xcx, brat - i remain after all these years a true romance truther and continue unfairly to measure all her subsequent work, much of which is frankly too sophisticated and experimental for my listening taste even if i recognize she's Doing Something, but this album sounds great and has some bops. as a straight-through listen it was too rich for my blood, but i find myself enjoying the songs on shuffle mixed in with whatever else i've been into more than i would have expected from that first exposure, and also 360 has been stuck in my head more waking hours than not for like a month and a half now and i'm still not sick of it (although i think my favorite song on the album is 365, and not just because i think it's really funny that she ended the album with "the opening track coming out of the bathroom after doing cocaine"). plus as someone who HAS been listening to charli since whenever the video for "you're the one" dropped it is nice to see The Culture finally rally around her even if i remain a little puzzled over why now, the all-star remixes getting rolled out have been pretty delightful (LORDE!!!!!!!!), and it's nice to have the zeitgeist coalesce for a moment over something i too think is fun (especially since the other thing gay people love this summer is chappell roan on whom i have yet to be converted sorry to everyone i'm sincerely glad you're having a good time)

#medialog 2k24 #isabel 2k24 #media 2k24 #another fun game of can i remember my own tagging system for these...

28 notes · View notes

fandomsniper · 7 months ago

Text

I really love incorrect quotes, did you notice?

----

Motti, rising his glass in a toast: I'd like to say something about my wonderful sexy husband

Jerjerrod, sinking in his seat: Oh no...

Motti: Tiaan, you make my life hard and my dick harder. I love you *drains his glass in one go*

----

Piett: *mumbling and strangely moving around*

Needa: What are you doing?

Piett: Summoning Satan.

Veers: Why would you want to see Ozzel so early in the morning?

----

Needa: You have to apologize to Motti.

Veers: Fine.

Veers: 'Unfuck you' or whatever.

----

Tarkin: Orson...

Krennic: Oh no, you said 'Orson' in B flat.

Krennic: You're disappointed.

----

Piett: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Max!

Veers: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

----

Piett: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.

Veers: Wow. They sound stupid.

Piett: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.

Veers: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”

Piett: I guess you’re right. Hey Max, I love you.

Veers: See! Just say that!

Piett: Holy fucking shit.

Veers: If that flies over their head then, sorry Fir, but they're too dumb for you.

Piett: Max.

42 notes · View notes

angelofverdum · 4 months ago

Text

Desperate Housewives

I wish I would have written about each season while watching. I have so many feelings.

I have so much to say about this show. I just love it when a show has a perfect mix of drama and comedy. The kind of show that made me cry and laugh so much that I had to pause the episode.

They don't make shows like this one, where they introduce a story in one episode and wrap it up in the next one, and it's not relevant again. That is television. 6 to 8 episodes are the worst thing that ever happened.

I have a tiny complaint and it's that they should have spent more time together as friends. They did poker night but besides that they don't discuss personal stuff. That's why one of my favorite scenes is when Gaby and Bree are having an "affair", because they want to hangout just because.

The wives

Bree Van De Kamp.

In my eyes Bree can’t do wrong, I’m sorry. On paper why would you like someone like Bree? She is a Republican, she has guns, and she was judgmental. I’ll give credit to Marcia Cross for making Bree this beautiful amazing character.

Bree was the best-written character. I think it was the only character who didn’t regress, she actually had a character development through the seasons and learned from her mistake.

She was homophobic when she learned that her son was gay, but she got over it, her relationship with Andrew was one of the most beautiful things on the show.

She was so perfect that every man she met asked her to marry him. If I were Rex and my wife was Bree I wouldn’t have cheated or died.

Imagine coming home, and you have a wife that looks like that, cooks, cleans, and I get that Rex's problem was that Bree was too uptight but when you watch the flashback where she tries to open up about him flirting with Gaby and he dismisses her, you understand why she never opens up to him completely. She couldn’t match his freak.

And It makes me so happy that in the end, she found someone and she can be her authentic self.

And that badass name? I was mad when Rex died and she married Orson and she became Bree Hodge. The writer fumbled that one really bad. I’m glad she realized that when she wrote the book.

Also, she had an incredible queer vibe. She has the best lines and those episodes where she was absent because Marcia Cross was pregnant were like a personal attack. I missed her so much.

Gabrielle Solis.

When I was a kid and I watched random episodes Gaby was my favorite. She was young, pretty, had money without working, and a handsome husband, that was a dream to me.

When I started the show I still liked Gaby, even though she was selfish. They knew what they were doing when they cast Eva Longoria as Gaby because her charm definitely helped Gaby’s selfishness.

My problem with Gaby was that she went back and forth with her selfishness, she did something awful then she realized her mistake and apologized, next episode she did the same thing.

But she was so funny, she said the most out-of-pocket things that I had no other option but to love her.

Lynette Scavo.

My problem with Lynette was her relationship with Tom. It was awful and boring. But I really liked Lynette, she was smart, sarcastic and funny.

Felicity Huffman is a hell of an actress. Think about the most heart-wrenching scene on the show and it’s probably carried by Felicity. The way she moves, her voice, her eyes. She is a brilliant actress.

There is the hurricane episode or the shooting episode in which you can see her talent but also the scene when Tom tells her he is ready to come back to work at the restaurant and she starts to cry in the bathroom, that scene stayed with me. Like, omg give her another Emmy.

Susan Delfino

S01 Susan was a bit annoying but mostly funny but as the series progressed she became almost unbearable to me. Her attitude was awful and she made everything about her. But at least Teri Hatcher was a capable actress and could handle the comedy and drama perfectly. She made me laugh a lot, I'm not gonna lie, but also made me so mad, the Julie pregnancy storyline.

She deserved that Golden Globe, I guess.

Katherine.

It’s crazy how they ruined Katherine’s character when Mike left her. I love her character so much. Also, she has a lot of chemistry with Bree. They should have explored that a bit.

Renee.

She entered the show too late. I wanted more of Renne, she was clearly there to replace Edie but it was Vanesa Williams how can you not love her? I don’t understand how she didn’t become immediately friends with Gaby.

Edie.

I loved Edie the moment she showed up. I love a female character who is full of herself and doesn’t care what other people think about her. However, for me, she was the most inconsistently written character on the show. In season 1 she was a “bitch” but tried to be friends with the girls, they become friends but then they needed a villain so she went maniac, just to come back and tried to be friends again. She was whatever the writers needed at the moment. Her death was totally unfair.

Karen McCluskey. The MVP

The Husbands

They were all awful. All of them were terrible. They had fragile egos, toxic masculinity, totally disregard for their wives’ feelings.

Carlos.

He had a big macho man problem and didn’t know what he wanted to do in life. Tell me what father will leave a job that has so many benefits to work in a place where the pay is almost nothing? But I like him because when it came to Gaby he didn’t play about her. He had a character development, and that season when he became blind? Uff A MAN.

Orson.

I’m going to take Orson as Bree's husband because I think it was her longest relationship, that we saw of course. I think they were onto something when they were introducing him as the villain. Then they made him this silly guy who was perfect for Bree, I loved their marriage. Then they ruined his character, he mistreated her, manipulated her, etc. So he became my personal enemy.

His ego was so fragile that he asked his wife to sell her company because she was more successful than him.

Mike.

Boring, just boring. Terrible actor too, Teri was running circles around him. Mike made his family go bankrupt because he couldn’t take his wife’s money.

Tom.

The worst husband to ever exist on television. The worst character on the show. An ungrateful man-child. His wife got cancer and he made the situation about his pain. The worst part is that the show tried to tell us that he is a great husband when we can see he clearly is not. He took all the money they had to open a pizza place, then asked Lynette to quit his job and work with him, then got mad when Lynette was better than him.

Maybe Marc Cherry was in love with Doug Savant because I don’t get it. Even when they fucking finally separated and Lynette said she was relieved, she was the one who had to win him back. He got a new girlfriend while Lynette was scamming a way back into his life.

Ranking the seasons

Season 1

The best mystery in the whole show. So well written, you get enough clues to get you through the season but until the very end you don’t get the whole picture. It was classy and shocking and twisted

Season 3

Not as good as the first one, but it allows you to piece the story together into a bigger mystery. Orson’s mom was a great villain and anything that involved Bree signed me in. Orson’s ex was annoying tho.

I want to talk about the pedophile’s storyline which I think was one of the darkest plots they did. They resolved this in three episodes, and I think they couldn’t handle it, the final revelation and the character were so eerie and jaw-dropping. I think they never come close to this kind of plot again. It was incredibly upsetting.

Season 5

David was evil and I liked that. I figured it out too fast and I get It wasn’t so mysterious, they revealed too much at the beginning of the season but he was a great villain and a wonderful actor.

Season 6

I liked the Bolen family but the resolution of the mystery was kinda underwhelming. I did like that Lynette was more in the spotlight. I think Angie should have stayed on the show, she was fun.

Season 4

Uninteresting. The mystery didn’t make any sense. How Fake Dylan didn’t remember her time at the orphanage? But it gave me Katherine so I’m not complaining so much. It’s insane to me that Katherine did all of that and kept living like a normal person just to lose her shit when Mike left her in the next season.

Season 8

I have an enormous problem with this season, keep in mind that it’s the highest-rated season of the show on Rotten Tomatoes. The season started so amazing, loved the mystery about the letters and how this time the girls were the ones committing the crime. Which I have expected since the first season.

But then, when all the focus was on Bree it went downhill. And don’t get me wrong I loved that Bree had that much screen time but it didn’t make sense at all.

First Susan’s guilt was crazy to me. She killed a mother and a kid a few seasons ago, and here she just helped to cover the murder of an awful man, but even if we understand her guilt how come when Bree was in trouble, about to get thrown in jail, she never took the initiative to say hey “I did it too”. Same thing with Carlos, he didn’t try very hard Gaby told him "No" and he obeyed.

Besides, the fact that all of them where very shitty friends and I don’t understand why they got so mad at Bree, and not Susan who painted the whole crime scene. The trial in general was so stupid.

Bree wasn’t connected to Alejandro in the first place, she didn’t have a motive. Then their argument was that she slept with him, but Bree started to sleep with those men after Carlos killed him, so she couldn’t pick a random man at a bar because she didn’t even drink and she was with her boyfriend ( don’t remember that asshole's name)

Then, the police knew exactly when he was killed even tho it had been months before they found him, like they knew it was that night specifically AND even if Bree killed him as a random guy in a bar, how come he had her address in a map? it means he knew her. What is the motive for her to kill him? they weren’t even saying she was a serial killer. They were calling her every name but that.

And again if he knew her how come they didn’t call his wife to testify? How they didn’t know his real name. How they didn't connect him to Gaby before?

And Orson had pictures of that night but didn’t send them. Lazy writing.

Season 7.

Paul Young was a great character a ride-or-die husband who lost his mind when he found out why his wife killed herself. But this mystery was so dumb like that was it? mind you, it was such a bad plot that they dropped it and never addressed it again.

Season 2.

Terrible and boring. Borderline racist. Dragged.

When I finished the show I looked up what was the drama behind the scenes, I knew that Teri Hatcher was awful to the rest of the cast. Imagine my surprise when I found out this has been happening since s01 and that infamous photoshoot, if you know you know.

They had such good chemistry, you could feel they were really close. That’s an impressive thing to me, it was like Alissa Milano and Shannen Doherty hating each other, I was gagged because you don’t see that on screen.

I think it was around s07-08, perhaps 6, when it started to feel like they were trying to keep Susan away from the rest of the cast. Some scenes were almost awkward to watch.

I liked the ending because somehow it makes sense that they moved on with their life. I loved the show so much. It’s full of plotholes, and awful husbands, it was racist, and so conservative, and not even once the option of abortion was brought up, Julie's last storyline was awful.

But at the end of the day, it was a show about female friendship, and they were amazing characters. I’d love to experience this live and I wish I could see them again but at the same time, I don’t. Maybe a reunion like Eva said, but not a reboot.

I'm in that state of sadness that only comes when you finish a good show, and you have to let go but you can't.

#desperate housewives #bree van de kamp #gabrielle solis #lynette scavo #Susan Delfino #Tv shows #long post #opinions #reviews

20 notes · View notes