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kurooh · 3 months ago

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★ 02. MORNING ROUTINE !

☆ after filming your first scene and talking it over with your agent, you’re off to your second . . in a maid costume!? once filming is over, you’re roped into an interesting conversation regarding a few other stars.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, everyone is over 21, oral (f receiving), cum eating, maids, awkwardness, creampie, unprotected sex. | 4.9K words

xoxo, juno. SHES BACKKKKK! comment & rb if you enjoyed! thank u to wolfy anon for proofreading ily ♡

SHOWTIME MLIST.

“hey, good morning,” shinsou rushes up to you at the doors, lightly grabbing onto your shoulder before you can walk into the studio. “how’d yesterday’s shoot go for you?”

“good morning!” you reply happily, lighting up as you turn to face your agent. “let’s get some coffee from the place across the street, and i can tell you while we walk?”

“sounds good,” he exhales, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. “it’s definitely getting colder, god. i could seriously use some coffee.”

“ah, it is. anyway, filming wasn’t too bad. i had director iida, i believe? yeah, he was pretty alright.” you and shinsou walk side by side, stopping to hit the button and waiting for the lights to change.

shinsou gives a small smile, crossing the street with you. “how’d it go with your co-star? i figured he’d be a good introduction for you.”

“shōto was nice,” you say, warmth rising to your cheeks. the memory of being pressed against him and fucking is a little blurry, but just thinking about it has your pussy clenching around nothing. the faint feeling of his touch ghosts across your skin, and you clear your throat awkwardly. “um . . i think we ended up doing well together.”

shinsou’s not surprised. after all, he pulled the strings behind the scenes to get you with him.

“that’s good! i’ve been meaning to ask you about what you’re interested to do today,” shinsou holds the door of the coffee shop open for you and follows you inside. “i’ll get you up to speed after we order, alright? and don’t worry, i’ll just cover your drink.”

“oh,” you’re in the middle of unzipping your purse, “you really don’t have to, shinsou! i’ve got it.”

“i insist, it’s my treat.” he leaves no room for you to fight him any further, and you place the order together once it’s your turn.

“what were you saying about filming today?” you draw his attention back to the aforementioned topic as you sit down at a table together to wait for your drinks.

“oh, that’s right. you’ve been booked by a lot of different people, so you’ve gotta choose who you want to film with today. personally, i think you’ve got some decent options.”

“is that so?” you exhale, wondering if anyone else could possibly top your experience with shōto. but of course, you’re employed at a pornography studio, where dreams become reality and anything is possible.

shinsou’s voice drops to a low whisper, his words meant for your ears only. “well, there’s this . . maid thing, or some kind of bdsm shoot.”

“those are not good options,” you groan, closing your eyes briefly in disgust. “who’re the people booking? anyone important?”

“obviously, the maid film is from denki kaminari. the bdsm is—”

you’ve seen denki kaminari’s videos before. he seems to be energetic and also a little pervy, but he’s good looking and you’re not in the mood to be tied up in ropes or chains.

“i’ll go with the maid film. is he offering a lot?”

“kaminari’s a bit . . eccentric,” shinsou offers, waving his hand dismissively. “he doesn’t usually book with a set amount in mind like everyone else does. he prefers to shoot the film and then pay based off of what it makes.”

so, there are a few financial risks when it comes to choosing denki kaminari, but you sigh and bite the bullet. “that’s not ideal, but i’ll take it. when’s it scheduled?”

shinsou looks over at a mounted clock behind you, “if you’re going for this, you’re supposed to be over there in an hour.”

the barista calls out shinsou’s name, and you pick up the coffees while he sends a confirmation email to kaminari’s agent.

your arrival to shinsou’s office is met with an assistant of some kind dropping off a garment bag. through the fabric, you can see big frills and bows that most definitely will be itchy when you’re going around in it.

shinsou takes the bag with a sigh, and the assistant presses a yellow sticky note to the side of it before scurrying off quickly. you pick up the yellow paper and read the messy writing scrawled onto it.

hey! please change into this before arriving to set, director’s orders. we hope the dress is comfortable, even though it doesn’t look like it.

“i assume this is from kaminari?” you say flatly, tugging the sticky note off the bag.

“of course it is,” shinsou replies, holding the door open for you, “you can change in here before you head over. by the way, you’re heading to the fourth floor and turning to the left.”

“thanks, shinsou.”

unzipping the garment bag yields a frilly black and white dress decked out with bows and all kinds of lace. tucked in neatly beside the dress is a folded set of thigh high socks and a prop duster that looks as though it’s never been used. you pull off your clothes and change into the provided ones with little excitement. at the very least, you’ll get paid well and then end up filming something better, hopefully again with shōto.

shinsou nearly drops his phone when you step out of his office in that ridiculous dress—it looks so good on you, accentuating your chest and complimenting your figure beautifully. you fiddle with the bow necktie, fingers tangling in the black fabric. his mouth goes dry when you look up at him shyly, gesturing toward the necktie as best you can.

“could you help me tie this, shinsou?”

“of course,” he nods politely, snapping out of his daze. his nimble fingers undo the knots you’ve created and he ties it easily for you, pulling it into a snug bow. “you look great, by the way.” immediately after the words leave his mouth, he regrets having added that bit, but you smile at him and give him a spin, letting your skirt fan out.

“thanks. wish me luck?”

“good luck,” shinsou laughs dryly, turning away quickly before you can notice the redness blooming on his cheeks. “remember, fourth floor and to the left. there’ll be a sign or something on the door.”

you wave, thanking him again, and you both go your separate ways. the elevator comes quickly, and you go upwards silently, until the elevator stops a floor too early.

“there’s my pretty co-star!” an energetic voice exclaims, and the owner of it steps onto the elevator, practically buzzing with excitement. “come on, we can head up together!”

you recognize him easily; denki kaminari’s signature blond hair has a streak of black through it, and he’s got a winning smile playing on his lips, showcasing his nice teeth.

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, offering a hand in his direction. his energy isn’t off putting, just a little . . much for the first film of the day. kaminari instead wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you a warm hug as though you’re a long lost friend of his.

the elevator’s chugging upwards slowly, and kaminari’s still wrapped around you. well, okay. this is slightly weird; you’re going to be all over each other in less than twenty minutes and he’s already this friendly? something about him already has you on edge, necktie suddenly feeling like a noose.

you cough, pulling away and practically skittering into the corner of the elevator. he looks at you weirdly, confusion written all over his face, but you straighten and smooth out the ruffles on your dress.

“i’m sorry, it’s—we just met,” you utter, at a loss for words. maybe this is just how he is, but now you’re starting to worry if you’ve jeopardized your dynamic on set with him.

kaminari’s features soften with embarrassment, cheeks growing pink. then he very obviously panics internally, voice frantic and high as he tries to explain himself.

“oh my god! you’re right, i’m so sorry!” he stumbles over his words, and you wonder if the elevator is stuck with how long it’s taking. “i’m sorry, i really . . i’ve wanted to meet you for the longest time, and now you must think i’m a dumbass—ah, sorry!”

at last, the elevator finally comes to a halt. its doors open and you dash out, kaminari following with his head hanging. before you can open the door, he stops you with a sigh.

“wait, i—i want to redo our first meeting.”

you turn, gracing him with your attention and patience. “and how exactly do you plan to redo it?”

“with a proper introduction and handshake. no hugs, i promise.” he seems genuine, and your shoulders start to relax. kaminari extends his hand, a truce, and envelops yours once you reach out too.

“well, you already know me. just call me denki, though, okay? no kaminari or anything.”

“understood, denki.”

the door is thrown open and director yaoyorozu pops her head out, looking left and right.

“there you two are! goodness, i was about to send out a search party.”

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, shaking her hand and stepping inside behind her. “in the email, you didn’t have any kind of script . . is this some kind of freestyle thing?”

“i am so glad you asked,” she sighs, pulling the sharpened pencil from behind her ear. “i’ve got a simple idea to go off of, but the rest of it is up to you.”

“up to us?” denki chokes out, sounding shocked.

“um, yes?” the director sniffs, confused. “remember, you came to me with all of this.”

“director yaomomo, i thought you’d come up with a script!” he whines lamely, and she only rolls her eyes.

“kaminari, please. next time you’re booking a set, director, and supplies last minute, make sure you’ve got something for them to work with besides a generic concept.”

“director, the pancakes are finished and the set is ready.” a member of the film crew flashes her a double thumbs up and a smile.

“great, thanks so much,” yaoyorozu gushes before turning back toward you and denki. “so, the theme here is maids, of course. in this film, she’ll be waiting on you and waking you up with breakfast while you’re fake sleeping. obviously, you’re aware of what takes place next.”

“so, minimal dialogue?” you ask, folding your arms as you listen closely.

“the scene may have as much dialogue as you want it to. i’ll let you two head off and prep before we get started, okay?”

director yaoyorozu’s dark ponytail swings behind her as she saunters off toward the set to make a few more adjustments. denki waves at you, then heads off toward the changing area while you sigh.

—

“is everyone entirely ready and in position?”

a few stage crew members adjust the lighting and some microphones before giving yaoyorozu confirmation through raised thumbs. she nods toward you, just as someone places a hefty tray into your hands. the silver platter carries a plate stacked high with blueberry pancakes, drizzled in syrup, and a tall glass of orange juice beside it. matching silverware sits neatly beside the plate, atop a folded napkin.

yaoyorozu crosses her legs in her director’s chair, while you try not to shake with the heavy breakfast platter in your hands. orange juice lurches from side to side in the glass, threatening to spill over if you don’t remain steady.

“action!”

you smile when you step through the doorway, sweat beading along your forehead as you try to mask the nervousness. denki’s shirtless and on his stomach in the bed, a mess of sheets and blankets covering his lower half. trembling, you finally set the breakfast platter down on the bedside table, taking a seat on the bed.

denki’s getting hard just from feeling the shift of your weight on the mattress. the director might have to end filming early with the way his breath hitches at the touch of your palm to his back. slowly, you rub his skin in small circles, encouraging him to wake up. is it possible to be aroused from an almost entirely innocent gesture coming from someone you don’t know?

he stirs with a groan, turning over with a yawn. denki looks up at you through hooded eyes, his lower half still tangled in the bedsheets.

“good morning, sleepyhead,” you sigh, a lot less nervous now that you’re no longer holding onto that damn tray. “i made you breakfast and cleaned around the house. gently dusted your figure collection too.”

“t-thank you,” denki smiles, sitting up. “uh, what’s for breakfast?”

“blueberry pancakes and OJ,” you say automatically, cutting a piece off the sticky pastries with the fork. “i think you’ll love it.”

there’s something too intimate about the way you feed him the piece of the pancake, your eyes on his as he swallows it.

“well?” you breathe expectantly, lifting his chin and tilting it toward you when he shyly averts his eyes. the simple gesture startles him, sends his heart into quite the flurry, and denki finds himself fighting to get a grip. really, he’s never been this awkward on set in all his years as a pornstar—in fact, a film like this would be the easiest for him . . so why’s it so difficult?

a few sparks fly between you when denki grabs your chin in return, tugging you into a kiss. you gasp, startled, and he licks into your mouth, letting you taste the sweetness of the pancakes for yourself. seriously, whoever made them deserves head; they’re sweet and fruity, but maybe they just taste better on denki’s tongue.

he moans deeply against your lips, and you swallow the low sound with one of your own. beneath all the frills and lacy ruffles, sticky arousal begins to pool in your panties, soaking through the fabric far too easily. meanwhile, denki’s trepidation melts away fully; he grows more absorbed in the kiss, until he regretfully pulls away for breath.

you look at him through your lashes, nodding blissfully when he looks toward your skirt. denki slowly slips a hand beneath all the fabric and groans loudly, his fingers swiping at your damp panties before moving past the fabric to stroke your slick folds.

before you can move into another kiss, the director lets out a peeved sigh and shakes her head, “cut!”

denki pushes a finger inside of you, savoring the gasp you let out like a piece of specialty candy. “listen to yaomomo for both of us, ‘kay?”

“b-but they’re not rolling,” you protest in a whisper shout, although your hips jerk toward him when he sinks in all the way to his knuckle.

“no rules against it, baby.” the once anxious denki you met thirty minutes ago is gone, replaced with the confident pornstar you’ve come to know through years of watching UA’s videos.

yaoyorozu claps her hands together, facing you and denki but not noticing anything going on beneath the umbrella-like cover of your skirt.

“you’re both doing well so far, but when i said the amount of dialogue was up to you, i didn’t mean no talking at all.”

“do we have to reshoot what we’ve done so far?” you gasp out when denki curls his finger right against your g-spot, sending shockwaves of heat throughout your entire body.

nobody seems to notice the inflection in your voice, and the director offers a small smile.

“no, it’s alright, we’ll just edit everything together before it goes out. you’re both doing great, by the way!” her praise is reassuring, and she hops up onto her chair again, then gestures for the crew members to position the cameras.

“action.”

denki’s lips find yours in a bruising kiss, tongue swiping against your lower lip impatiently. he’s quick to pull you on top of him too, wet fingers tugging up your skirt to give the camera a full view of your soaked panties and ass.

“what about the pancakes?” you ask, remembering the director’s tip about the dialogue. if she were to call cut again, the interruption would surely drive you insane.

“what pancakes?”

“the ones i made for you,” you breathe against his lips, eyes flicking to the bedside table. “over there, with the—”

he takes your distraction as an opportunity to press his face into your neck, taking in the smell of your perfume and the softness of your skin. low and quiet, he whispers into your ear, “fuck, you’ve got no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this—for you.”

you whine as he kicks the bedsheets off his body, firmly placing you atop his hard cock. through your panties and his boxers, you can feel the ridges of his tip and the heat of his body.

“how do you want it?” denki purrs, hands settled on your hips. “from the back . . bent over?”

the options he gives you only ignite the arousal burning in your core further; you move off of him, settling on all fours. the wild look you toss him from over your shoulder makes him groan, and he yanks his underwear and pajama pants off as quickly as he can, hurling them into a corner of the set.

“fuckin’ soaked, baby,” he coos, flipping up your skirt and slipping a few fingers beneath the crotch of your panties. your cunt flutters around nothing as he pulls the underwear off, with enough force for the microphones to pick up the ripping sound that follows. “is this all for me?”

he flings the torn garment off the bed carelessly, and it silently lands somewhere on the carpet.

“o-only for you.”

denki chuckles, and guides his cock toward your entrance, but doesn’t push it in just yet. instead, he strokes the tip up and down, gathering your wetness to provide extra lubrication. the tease has your toes curling and your eyes rolling back; denki gifts your ass with a slap, letting out a low whistle.

“you’ll get what you want soon enough, baby. i just . . feel like something’s missing.”

you look over your shoulder when the bed creaks, your co star’s weight leaving the mattress. he grabs at the drawer of the bedside table, and the glass of orange juice rattles against the silver platter from the movement. even director yaoyorozu looks a little lost for words, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

the drawer slams shut and denki returns to the bed behind you in a flash, a miniature black and white vibrator between his fingers. yaoyorozu settles back into her chair with a contented expression, signaling for the cameraman to zoom in between your bodies.

the soft, rubbery head of the vibrator nudges against your clit and you gasp. denki slants his body over yours, pushing his cock inside of you shallowly.

“i—i don’t think i can t-take all of it,” you swallow nervously, inhaling sharply when he bucks his hips forward and plunges inside you, bottoming out easily.

“that’s fuckin’ nonsense,” he groans, pushing a hand through his blond hair to get it away from his eyes. then it wraps loosely around your throat before you can protest any further. “‘course my girl can take it.”

my girl?

denki startles even himself. but this is the magic of being a pornstar and filming around the clock. he’s built up a persona for himself that he always seems to slip into no matter how he’s feeling. he’s thankful for this; otherwise, he’d be a bumbling fool who’d accidentally fuck your thighs, too caught up with excitement to get it together.

his teeth sink into his lower lip hard, scraping against the skin rather roughly as the words burst from his lips uncontrollably.

“g-god, you’ve got no idea how damn long i’ve been waiting to fuck this pretty pussy,” the vibrator turns on and presses flush against your clit, already at the highest setting. “ngh, you’re so tight, baby—got me all worked up with the little maid dress, heh. you look beautiful in it, i swear.”

his babbling soon falls on deaf ears, and you unintentionally tune him out, unable to hear him clearly over your ragged moans and cries. denki’s hips set a somewhat even pace, skin smacking into skin while the vibrator seems to only get more intense.

“c’mon, babe, arch a lil more for me,” he huffs, his palm nudging against the middle of your back.

with a whine, you do as he instructs, burying your face in the sheets.

“aw, i still wanna hear you clearly.” denki clicks his tongue, his fingers leaving the sides of your throat and instead tugging on your necktie. he turns it backwards and pulls your head back so you’re not muffled any longer.

“f-fuck, you’re so deep,” you sob, his strokes growing faster and rougher. the bed creaks beneath you, shaking loudly, and despite his panting, denki’s determined to give you the best sex you’ll ever have at UA studios.

“yeah, babe? feel my cock right here in your tummy?” denki’s voice is strained, his free hand wandering to the plush skin above your pelvis. he presses down experimentally, and he swears you get tighter.

it’s only a little pressure, but it sends shockwaves of something intense throughout your body and knocks the breath from your lungs.

“ooh, you’re squeezin’ me real tight,” denki comments breathily, “i want you to cum for me, got that?”

“‘m so close,” you sob, tossing your ass back onto his cock. “wanna—wanna cum on your cock!”

this is it. this is the big moment where he makes you cum twice on camera and shows all his friends who can fuck you the best. his mouth feels dry and he’s unable to say much of anything to spur you on, talk you through it.

the noisy metal bedframe squeaks louder, the mattress sliding side to side from all the movement. denki doesn’t let up, biting down on his lip so hard he draws some blood while he fucks you through the exhaustion and pain in his sides.

at last, highly anticipated euphoria courses through your bodies at the same time, and his cock begins to twitch against your cervix. a whiny moan tears from his lips as he spills deep inside you, trembling hands grabbing at your waist for purchase. the vibrator maintains its high setting, not letting up even once—in the moment, it’s amazing to ride the waves as you cum, but as you’re coming down, you begin to shudder away from it.

“hah—ah, shit,” you cry, voice pitching. denki pulls out of you, eyes widening in delight as he looks over your sloppy cunt, drooling with a mixture of your cum and his own. glossy strings of white leak from your hole, sticking to your thighs every time you jerk away from the vibrator. “i-it’s too much.”

“oh, ‘m sorry babe,” the words roll off his tongue, each syllable oozing with faux sympathy. lucky for you, denki clicks the vibrator off and tosses it somewhere in the sheets. you don’t notice him moving to lay on his stomach, too busy trying to catch your breath. “she’s looking messy down there, hm?”

denki’s breath now fans over your wet pussy, his words low and sultry. you look over your shoulder in confusion, sweat shining on your forehead, bitten lips parting to ask a question, but he interrupts.

“i can clean her up for you.”

with that final statement, denki’s tongue presses flat against your slit and he moans, tasting the evidence of what seems to be his best porno yet. he slurps up the mess eagerly, holding you in place by your hips whenever you try to squirm away.

it’s bittersweet, slick pouring down his chin and making his skin shine while his own cum colors his lips white. you can’t do anything but whimper, looking back at him through hooded eyes that well with tears of overstimulation.

“i know, i know,” he mumbles into you when your body jolts, and you suck in a sharp breath. “i jus’ want to make sure you can’t move after this.”

a thorough pussy pounding and now this? there’s no way you’ll be able to stop shaking.

nimble fingers find your swollen clit and give it a light pinch, then gently stroke over it; he thinks the reaction it elicits from you is absolutely delicious—your expression crumbles and you rock your hips back against his face, dragging your cunt all over him.

he’s drunk on your scent and taste, taking as much of you in as he can. director yaoyorozu looks pleased as she whispers something to a member of the film crew, but you don’t even notice her through the sweltering haze of arousal. denki pushes the skirt further up your body, and the resounding sob that leaves your lips has him smiling against your cunt.

against your slit, his silky tongue paints peculiar patterns that your dizzy brain manages to register as the letters of his name. “fuck, ‘m gonna c-cum, ‘s coming—” your fingers tangle in his blonde hair, yanking him into your cunt as the high hits you, toes curling and teeth chattering together.

denki’s eyes roll back as you cum on his face, but then you’re trembling and moving away when the sensitivity finally sets in. your pussy is puffy and twitching, entirely spent for the day.

“woah,” he catches you with an arm when you drop flat on the bed, shuddering with the aftershocks of it all. “you good, baby?”

his lips press into your temple and you nod, huffing as you try to catch your breath. unconsciously, you start to cuddle into him, arms wrapping shakily around his torso.

it’s hard to remember where you are, stars swirling in your vision, but the sight of the microphone a few meters away snaps you back into professional mode. god, you haven’t been this dazed since your early days at shiketsu, where you’d been booking with some of the biggest men at the studio.

“i-i wish i didn’t have to, but,” you huff quietly, slowly raising from the bed to smooth out your dress and then look for your panties. you make a big show of bending over, giving the camera a great view of your quivering, dripping cunt. you swipe the underwear from the carpet with a relieved sigh, turning to face denki, who’s nibbling at his lower lip, already hard again. “i’m not finished cleaning the house yet. maybe i can make you some lunch later, when i’m done?”

the cheeky suggestion has an unintentional effect, denki’s cheeks darkening perfectly for the scene. he nods slowly, caught in a stupor. you blow a kiss toward him, stepping through the fake doorway and off the set.

after a beat of silence, director yaoyorozu calls for a cut. she hops off her tall chair and claps excitedly, while crew members rush to strip the bed and clean up the set. on jelly-like legs, you wobble over to her, standing beside denki with a small smile.

“excellent, the two of you,” she praises, ponytail swishing as she nods. “i’ll update both of your agents once we get this to the editors. hehe, my intuition tells me this’ll do very well.”

you thank her together, before parting your separate ways toward the dressing areas—at least you try to, but denki trails behind you quietly, cheeks still blazing pink.

“kaminari, is everything alright?” you step behind the shoji screen, the makeshift dressing room. without needing to be asked, his fingers find the zipper at your back and he loosens the maid dress for you.

“denki,” he corrects you with an embarrassed laugh, leaning his body against the shoji in an attempt to come across as relaxed. “i wanted to ask you about—”

the shoji screen topples over the moment his weight rests against it, smashing to the floor with a loud bang! you shriek, gathering the dress up around your chest as your co-star rushes to pick it up before anyone can look over. he is unsuccessful, much to your chagrin.

“oh my fucking—i’m so sorry, shit.”

“what is it you wanted to ask, denki?” you ask, embarrassed. it’s like you’re back to square one again, as if you weren’t just doing the nastiest things together less than ten minutes ago. he throws a hand behind his neck, awkwardly scratching the skin as he tries to calm his nerves.

“okay, look. me and a few friends of mine—UA stars—” he adds in that bit in case you need some extra convincing, “are hosting a little get together. i’m thinking maybe you can come and hang out for a little while? i can pick you up, if you—”

“that’s very nice of you.”

the interruption makes his heart drop straight into his ass, and he immediately looks down at his bare feet. but then you speak up, and he feels a spark of hope in his chest. after all, he did promise his friends that he’d introduce you to them.

“i live nearby, i moved apartments to be closer to the studio,” you admit, fingers loosening on the dress. “what time is it? i’d be willing to meet some other stars, get acquainted with everyone.”

denki looks at you, joy written all over his face. he flashes you a bright smile, nodding as he collects his thoughts. “everything starts at eight. i can just pick you up, ‘kay? here, i’ve gotta give you my number.”

you laugh, pushing him back. “i’ve gotta change first, the dress is really itchy. we’ll work it out when i’m done, sound good?”

he steps out from behind the shoji screen after nodding, gold eyes shining. before he can walk away toward his own makeshift dressing room, you stop him, smiling in a way that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“hey, denki? by the way, i’m really looking forward to tonight.”

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balteringanatidae · 2 months ago

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As Beautiful as Poetry

pairing: spencer reid x english teacher!reader word count: 2.38k contents: first time fic writer!! mutual pining, spence and reader are oblivious, smoochin’, reader is described vaguely (feminine and eccentric)

Lately, Spencer had been spending more time at the library. Not to pick up any new books—these days, he’d been dwelling on past books he hadn’t checked out in a while—but to catch even a fleeting glimpse of you.

Of course, he wasn’t a stalker; he was an admirer. Plus, he didn’t just gawk at you from afar; he’d spoken with you a few times, and that was when he found out that you had the most precious voice ever.

The both of you had spoken enough to know each other’s names and what you did for work. You were astonished when you discovered he was an FBI agent. You weren’t one to make assumptions, but with Spencer, you did, and it was far off.

He hadn’t been too surprised to find out you were an English teacher. You taught gifted high school students—essentially; you were the teacher Spencer wished he had when he was twelve.

With your deep literature knowledge, you could give him recommendations of a few poets he’d never heard of, and in return, he recommended a few science fiction novels. Which opted for conversations the following weeks. The both of you exchanged reflections on the suggestions.

Weeks of conversing—eight weeks, Spencer counted—led nowhere. In chronological order, each conversation consisted of a greeting, small talk, book talk, accidental flirting, and, finally, an excuse to part ways. Spencer always left as a blushing mess, as if he hadn’t been like that in the beginning. And you left giggling to yourself; Spencer’s coyness made you feel warm inside. Did he only act like that around you?

Neither of you would call it a friendship yet, no matter how badly the both of you wanted to. Fleeting glances, brief greetings, and exchanged smiles weren’t a friendship. Neither of you could figure out how to initiate a closer connection without seeming desperate. Spencer was desperate.

Your eccentricity all but enchanted Spencer. You weren't a rebel or a rule breaker; you were simply you, and it was gorgeous. Gorgeous, you lit up each book you grazed, as if the most alluring aura followed you. It was inexplicable why idiosyncrasy was so attractive to him—your idiosyncrasy, perhaps.

He could never get enough of your outfits, which, oddly enough, reminded him of the fourth doctor, but that did nothing but encapsulate him more. His favorite doctor, and you, with the potential to be his favorite girl? He was in love with the mere idea. He could practically infer that is where you got your fashion inspiration from.

You were the perfect girl most contemporary authors wrote about, but real—oh, you were so real. You weren't designed to be loved by some protagonist who was the contrary to you. You were created to dote on those archaic poetry books you devoted time to—the ones you were just as beautiful as.

He could nearly smell a perfectly bloomed bouquet of flowers when you entered the library. He adored how you glided across the library floor gracefully, skimming through every shelf with precision. With each step, you seemed to move along to a silent cadence. Each click of the heel of your auburn boots—matching your recently dyed hair and portions of your multicolored scarf—graced his ears; he just knew you were around.

He stood in the informational text passage, picking out two physics books. He scanned through the first swiftly; he was familiar with most of the information in the text. He simply wanted an excuse to stay around longer, hopefully to bump into you.

He’d returned the first book to its fitting slot on the shelf, expecting someone else would learn as much as he did on his foremost read. He was now solely retaining the book he was certain he hadn't read yet.

As he strolled past the various aisles, spotting you in the ‘Poetry’ section, as per usual. You turned to him as his steps halted; a radiant smile graced your face, and you gave him a brief wave.

Smiling, you're smiling at Spencer.

He involuntarily smiled back; of course, he meant to, but his lips curled up before he tried to smile. He didn't even wave back; he was just moonstruck and stared at you as you turned back to the poems, picking one from a familiar name: Sir Walter Scott.

Spencer shortly came to his senses, and his smile sprinted away from his face. He watched you analyze the poem for a few moments before he tore his gaze away from you.

He’d see your pretty face another time.

He traveled to the back of the library, a space reserved for reading. A few old-timey chairs in a row and a lengthy, velvet sofa. He took a seat near the armrest; no one should sit near him, and he left more than enough space.

His book became a simple prop in his hands as he heard you start to read under your breath. The Lay of the Last Minstrel. This was nothing short of revolutionary to him. Your delicate voice reading each line, and he didn't recall them sounding so precious—not until you read it and he hung onto every word.

You were merely a foot away from him on the comfortable couch, and he could feel your aura from his own spot. That’s when his head spun to you, hardly discreet at all, but he’d presume you were too ensnared in the words before you.

Not stumbling over a word, you had been reading for ten minutes, in blissful ignorance of the man adoring you from a foot away. He yearned for nothing but to pick at that brain of yours. He’d already had a queue of queries on his mind:

Why did you choose that scarf?

Why did you choose that butterfly hair clip?

Why did you choose that poem?

Why did you choose to sit near him? Have you noticed how he looks at you?

You felt his gaze burning into the side of your head, and you felt as if he were scrutinizing you until your eyes met his.

Adoration. That’s all you could see; it's all you could feel. He practically had heart eyes for you right now. He knew he was caught, so he didn't even attempt to break his stare.

“I—” Spencer sheepishly chuckled, rubbing his bare forearm. “I was... lost in thought. I didn't mean to stare,” he lied.

You let out a barbed sound of understanding, and a small grin crept onto your face. You could see right through his lie, and it was almost endearing. “What were you thinking about?” You quickly placed your book to the side, giving Spencer your undivided attention.

He cleared his throat; the truth was in his mind, and suddenly he didn't feel worried about admitting it. “You,” he finally said. He closed the book, positioning it in his lap.

“I don't know you too well, and I want to change that… if you're on the same page,” he suggested, his gaze fleeting from yours as he fixed his glasses’ position.

You were silent, with your eyes wide, lips parted, and ready to speak. You wanted to scream ‘yes’ a million times as if he just proposed to you.

“If you're not, I entirely understand, and I don’t want to pressure you into—“ He began to ramble, but you prevented him.

“Spencer, I really like you, and I, too, want to get to know you better.” You offered him a bright smile, which caused him to reciprocate. You thought his smile was lovely.

“It is safe to say you're on the same page?” His voice teasing, but he couldn't lie that he needed more assurance. It was difficult to accept that you liked him.

“Absolutely,” you confirmed with a gentle touch to his shoulder, which he surprisingly enjoyed.

For the subsequent sixteen weeks, you and Spencer had established days you would meet at the library, typically on weekends when you were both free. It was seldom, but it was something, something more than what you had before.

Neither of you dubbed these rendezvous as ‘dates,’ but they entirely were. Spencer would wear cologne that Morgan gifted him a birthday ago, and you would wear more modest makeup that accentuated your natural beauty. The both of you yearned to impress each other.

Each time, you would feel that Spencer looked better than the previous time you two met. Spencer would believe that an angel touched you or that the gods had favorites, and you were one.

Occasionally, the dates would leave the library and follow into a coffee shop, where he would buy you pastries and a warm mug of coffee to subside the sensations of the frigid D.C. air. You would sigh in consolation as the warmth enveloped you like a thick blanket. Spencer would giggle at the precious view.

Soon, Spencer finally mustered up the intrepidity to invite you to his apartment. He insisted that it wasn’t a proposition, but you didn’t presume that initially. You knew what kind of man Spencer was—a gentleman.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” he murmured, there was a single cloth on the floor, “I held off on cleaning my apartment for a week, so I did it all today.”

You looked around; you deeply relished the atmosphere. It was amiable, and it nearly felt like home. Then you spotted his vast bookcase, and you wondered why he even visited the library. “It looks great in here, Spence.”

Spence. That was the first time you called him that.

“Thanks,” he attempted to sound nonchalant. “I really wanted to impress you, if it’s not obvious.” He stepped back, allowing you further into his living space.

“It is obvious,” you affirmed with a quiet giggle. You loved it. You loved how hard he tried to impress you, no matter how many times you told him it was unnecessary.

You walked around the flat, noticing a bowl of fresh fruit on the remote dining room table in front of the vase filled with your favorite flowers. Was it a coincidence? Candles encircled the vase, illuminating the puny space.

“This is too much, isn't it?” Spencer stepped beside you as you ate a sweet strawberry from the bowl, painting your lips a faint red. You shook your head; you thought it was perfect.

“I thought we were only gonna watch some movies or something of the sort, but I like this too!” You comforted him with a smile. You took another glance at the table, the fire of the candles shining in your eyes.

“I just wanted this moment to… be, uh, special.” He cleared his throat, trying not to stammer over his words again.

You wanted to save him the trouble and tell him you wanted to be his girlfriend right in that moment, but he tailored this moment just for the two of you. You wouldn't ruin it.

You turned to face him, taking his hands in yours as you sensed his nervousness. All he could do was nervously smile at you before he gathered up his courage.

“It’s been 112 days since our first ‘date,’ and I really like you,” he confessed, his voice anxious. “I would like for us to be exclusive, and I really want to call you mine.” He sighed; he’d already begun bracing for rejection when he set the dining table.

You gaped into his glossy hazel eyes, watching as they fluttered shut every few moments. You caught the way he nervously licked his lips as he waited for an answer.

“I’d really like it if you called me yours, Spence.”

He tilted his head to the side narrowly, quirking up an eyebrow at you. He was nearly confused by the fact that you didn't reject him.

“Really? I mean, that's not how I planned for this to go. Are you serious?” A smile crept onto his lips, hoping this wasn't a huge bit to break his heart.

“You expected me to reject you?” You practically pouted as he nodded. You rubbed your thumbs against his knuckles. “Spencer, I’ve been dropping hints for a while now, and I’m surprised it took this long for you to ask.”

He chuckled breathlessly, finally breaking eye contact as he shook his head. “Yeah, I noticed, but I thought that maybe I was perceiving it wrongly.”

You wished Spencer would look at you again; you needed to see your reflection in his glasses and how his pupils turned to hearts. His cheeks were painted a faint red; he wasn’t good at hiding his feelings. Of course, you loved his transparency.

“I’m just glad we could have this moment and that you didn’t reject me.” Spencer pulled his hands away from yours, his arms enveloping your waist hesitantly. He was frequently fearful you would be opposed to anything he did.

“If I rejected you, I think I'd regret that for the rest of my life,” you murmured fondly, your arms swathed around his neck. His eyes met yours nervously, his gaze examining each of your facial details.

“I’m gonna kiss you, okay?” You spoke up; Spencer was already looking at your lips; he simply nodded and leaned in with you. His eyes flapped shut a few moments after you closed yours, and your noses bumped, spewing faint giggles from both of your lips.

Your lips adjoined with his for the first time, and neither of you wanted it to be the last. Your lips tasted like the strawberry you ate before; his lips curled into a smile at the flavor. He tasted like vanilla chapstick. You could devour his lips, but you had decency, at least for now.

You didn't count the seconds; you were too lost in his lips, but Spencer did. His mental stopwatch halted as soon as his lips parted from yours. Twelve seconds—a few nanoseconds away from thirteen—you two spent kissing.

His forehead pressed against yours, both of your breaths mingling as your eyes slowly opened. The sight was practically lethal. His eyebrows furrowed and lips were moist. Your stares met as his eyes eventually opened.

“Is it a good time to say I love you?”

“I don't think there's a bad time. I love you too.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #ducky’s fics

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hrrtshape · 2 days ago

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　　 THE ROLES IN MY FAME DR. . .

quiet, quiet !!! centre stage, lights dimmed, audience hushed. my fame dr is essentially me winning the metaphorical acting olympics while everyone else is still lacing up their shoes. it’s, like, a line-up of roles so iconic, so overpowered, it’s like i’m thanos snapping my way through hollywood history. i wanted the cookie, and i baked the whole bakery.

here’s the rundown.....each role is a slice of cinematic perfection, OKAY, served with a side of "how does she do it? why does she do it?? how many oscars do you need??" energy.

　꒰ 2002. . . ' PONETTE ' as ponette. — picture a four-year-old (shut up) absolutely devastating audiences, grappling with grief and holding onto the wisp of hope that her mom might waltz back from the afterlife. tiny me..... heartbreaking. oscar-worthy. a pint-sized tour de force !!!

　꒰ 2006. . . ' LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE ' as olive. — quirky underdog vibes. a beauty pageant dreamer dragged through chaos on a family road trip. big glasses, bigger heart. adorable chaos incarnate.

　꒰ 2007. . . ' LÉON: THE PROFESSIONAL ' as mathilda. — street-smart, sharp-tongued, and navigating grief and revenge. turned “child assassin vibes” into a genre.... unlikely bond with a hitman? groundbreaking.

　꒰ 2008. . . ' ATONEMENT ' as briony tallis. — precocious young writer turned accidental chaos agent. one little misunderstanding, and boom !! tragedy for everyone. the literary girls wept.

　꒰ 2009. . . ' TRUE GRIT ' as mattie ross. — fearless teen avenger with a rifle and a vengeance. sharp-tongued, sharp-shooting. unstoppable.

　꒰ 2011. . . ' LOLITA ' as lolita /// dolores haze. — a beguiling and precocious girl cloaked in innocence but steeped in rebellion, a mix of youthful charm and intoxicating danger. made everyone very uncomfortable because it wasn't directed by a pervert but instead an actual person who understood the book !!

　꒰ 2012. . . ' MOONRISE KINGDOM ' as suzy. — whimsical runaway girl with a suitcase full of records and big dreams, embarking on an adventurous and heartfelt runaway journey with her first love.

　꒰ 2013. . . ' BLACK SWAN ' as nina sayers. — the drama. the descent into madness on the basis of perfection. a ballerina teetering on the edge of perfection and chaos.

　꒰ 2014. . . ' THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL ' as agatha. — the sweet baker who saves the day in a pastel-hued, heist-filled fever dream. you could say i was the cinnamon roll that held the plot together.

　꒰ 2015. . . ' CINDERELLA ' as cinderella. — glass slippers, big dreams, unapologetic faith in the universe. cottagecore princess moment.

　꒰ 2017. . . ' LADY BIRD ' as christine "lady bird" mcpherson. — high school angst meets big-city dreams. small-town girl, big personality, fiercely independent. greta gerwig girlies cheered.

　꒰ 2019. . . ' ROMEO AND JULIET ' (dir. sofia coppola) as juliet. — tragic romance, youthful rebellion, a modernised shakespearean masterpiece. the english teachers are obsessed.

　꒰ 2019. . . ' ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD ' as sharon tate. — an enchanting actress and rising star, embodying the golden glow of hollywood’s bygone era with grace and optimism.

　꒰ 2019. . . ' LITTLE WOMEN ' as amy march. — ambitious, artistic, unapologetically confident. justice for amy achieved!!!

　꒰ 2019. . . ' STRANGE COLOURS ' (dir. david lynch) as naste. — struggling sculptor in post-war 1950s paris, whose pursuit of success leads her to morally complex decisions in a crime and punishment-inspired tale.

　꒰ 2020. . . ' THE QUEEN'S GAMBIT ' as beth harmon. — a brilliant yet troubled chess prodigy navigating personal demons, ambition, and addiction while conquering a male-dominated world.

　꒰ 2021. . . ' THE FRENCH DISPATCH ' as juliette. — a cynical and enigmatic character in a whimsical anthology capturing the spirit of journalism and artistic eccentricity.

　꒰ 2021 . . . ' PROFIL PERDU ' as josée. — a woman caught in a crumbling marriage, drawn into a web of intrigue and liberation when a wealthy magnate offers her a new life filled with possibilities.

　꒰ 2021 & 2023. . . ' SUCCESSION ' as lukas matsson's complicated girlfriend. — it’s giving chaos. it’s giving scandal. the girl who walked into the roy / mattson power vortex and made it just a tad messier.

　꒰ 2022 & 2025. . . ' SEVERANCE ' as helly r. — kafkaesque corporate dystopia, dual personalities, fighting against the machine. the drama of it all.

　꒰ 2022. . . ' X ' as maxine. — it’s sexy, it’s terrifying, it’s iconic. a daring and ambitious young woman pursuing fame in the adult film industry while navigating fear and survival in a horror setting.

　꒰ 2022. . . ' PEARL ' as pearl. — a dreamer turned unhinged by isolation and frustration, whose violent tendencies emerge as her craving for stardom spirals into tragedy.

　꒰ 2023. . . ' POOR THINGS ' as bella baxter. — a curious and eccentric woman reborn into a surreal world, exploring life with uninhibited wonder and self-discovery. an eccentric frankenstein moment.

　꒰ 2023. . . ' THE HUNGER GAMES: THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS & SNAKES ' as livia cardew. — capitol decadence personified. the symbol of privilege and mean-spirituality. as well as coriolanus snow's future wife.

　꒰ 2024. . . ' MAXXXINE ' as maxine. — a raw and determined character fighting to make her mark in a world that feeds on fame, continuing her saga in the x-pearl trilogy.

　꒰ 2025. . . ' FRANKENSTEIN ' as the bride. — a haunting and tragic figure, torn due to her her husband's newest project.

that oscar is practically monogrammed with my soul. engraved, embossed, bedazzled in my honour. if possession is nine-tenths of the law, that golden man is legally, spiritually, and cosmically mine. you ever look at something and just know?? that’s me with oscar excellence. signed, sealed, delivered. twice for emphasis.

also....dividers not mine !!!!!

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spindashes · 18 days ago

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While I love people’s own adaptations of what Agent Stone would look like as a character from the games, I feel some of them miss the mark whenever they have him looking too devious or sinister, or generally just as eccentric as Eggman.

Part of his appeal in his original appearance (imo) is the contrast of his completely professional demeanor to Robotnik’s eccentricity and over-the-top antics. It’s what makes it so good, mad scientist wanting to detonate a speedy blue rodent with missiles and lasers & his secretary that makes him coffee and always maintains his composure & professionalism despite the fact that his boss is crazy.

And yet he is utterly enthralled by Robotnik’s eccentricity, and is utterly loyal to a fault because of it. He’s an utter sycophant.

Like, I don’t think he would be maniacally laughing alongside Eggman. Because that supposes them as equals– they’re not, and he likes it that way. I think he’d be organizing Badnik patrols while Eggman focuses on larger schemes. Polishing up Metal Sonic’s paint job before sending him out on the doctor’s orders. Adjusting the volume levels while Eggman delivers his speeches to world leaders. And, of course, making him a a latte while he razes the land with a fleet of battleships and machines.

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withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus · 2 months ago

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So you want to listen to AND -eccentric agent-?

…and you don’t know where to start? Well I got you. I like talking about my favorite bands and I love recommending music. And this my favorite band so buckle up xD.

Like my previous posts on this series, I won't get into basic details about the band, that's easy to look up. All you need to know, imo is that it’s unfortunately disbanded. Why you need to know that? Cause some people don’t like listening to bands that are no longer active. Another thing you might wonder is if the members are still active...hehehe...ah...Well it's complicated but I will try to explain:

So the vocalist, Ikuma, retired in 2020 and now runs his own café, but he gives heavy signs he wants back and there is a paid broadcast he's having on twitcast where he has shared music before so...I don't know if he really wants back or if this is just sth he enjoys doing in his free time. The lead guitarist, Kili, has retired and while I saw him at a label party, I don't know if he's still working in the scene as a manager or staff or he's completely out, now, but he's not performing, that's for sure. The rhythm guitarist, Peco, had attempted to come back about 3-4 times, but failed to find members he connected to and then he had a daughter so, on his final try, because Corona had just started, he decided to not pursue his dream for now, as he wants to make sure he doesn't get something and puts his daughter in danger. He has left it open whether he will try again when she's older or not. The bassist, Ken, retired after the band's disband in 2013 but last year or the year before, he returnt to the scene as a support bassist to idol groups. He's also set up a studio at his house so I think he too might be planning something. Finally, the first drummer of the band, Suzune had to stand down from the band he joined after AND, due to a health problem that affected his hands and made it impossible to perform, but he did stay active on twitter for a while and disappeared shortly after the one day revival live of AND last year (or two years ago, I have lost track of time). As for the 2nd drummer of the band, Kaji, after his departure from the band after AND he was with Ikuma, I heard he started another band which also disbanded and never found out anything more after that. *breathes* I know. It's a lot and I too got questions BUT ON TO THE MUSIC!

[side note: Some fans might disagree with my choices or think I should add 1-2 more songs, but this is just an opinion. If you wish to make a list of your own go ahead, every person has different criteria on what feels easier to listen to first, or showcases a band’s colors best.]

(*cries* where does one start, I listen to everything they've released. xD I'll try to retrace how I started to give you the best results)

youtube

If there is a word to describe AND's music I think "sexy" would fit xD. This was my first song. I used to see them recommended a lot on Youtube after looking up vkei around 2012, so out of all their songs I listened to, coming from a background of mainly pop music and being unable to listen heavy rock and metal, this managed to entice me want to know more. The guitars give such a raw feeling I just can't! Very cinematic, very video-gamey.

youtube

This song was such a rollercoaster for me to figure out whether I liked it or not, because it had the melodious side, but also the rock part I wasn't used to. But once my ears understood the assignment, honeys, this was an addiction. It's also the song that made me fall in love with Ikuma's voice. Goodness I'm gonna cry xD.

youtube

Another easy one, and one I found out, later, was rather popular at their lives. AND's songs had a lot to do with facing yourself and self-reflection. Ikuma's an exceptional lyricist (and Peco, cause he was writing some of the songs too) and all ANDo musicians gave me the most vkei sound I could ever ask for to start my journey in the scene.

youtube

I wouldn't have put this as a starter unless I knew how big of a deal the fans (agents) had made this release. I liked this song way after their disband. Now it's a strong favorite of mine but as a starter...maybe not for everyone.

youtube

Let's take you away from mvs now though. Cause AND's charm hid well in songs that had no pvs as well. Damn compression again but ho-neys! The cinema is real! xD Drums and vocals go brrrrr! xD The guitars are howling like wolves and the bass shakes the ground. If it wasn't early morning, your girl would be blasting it on my trusted grandpa woofer now. xD

youtube

Another amazing song to start to! And you get to hear lil'Ken-chan sing too! ^^

youtube

Again compression issues, but it's a beautiful song nonetheless. It always gave me a snowy feeling for some reason...when the sound is clean that is.

youtube

*Vibing and dancing around* Oh, you're still here! Yeah that's a good starter too *gets back to shaking it and headbanging*

youtube

If this song doesn't make you feel like you're on a damn mission I dunno what will. Listen. No listen!

youtube

I'm not even mentally here anymore xD. It's my cryptonite guys, I'm sorry. My IQ falls below 0 when it comes to this band. This is a very catchy song regardless and rather easy to listen to.

Another one I will suggest cause I ran out of videos: Lycoris

To this day I don't understand why this band disbanded, there were lots of stuff said back then, nothing confirmed, but I sure know a big name in the industry reached out to them at the last live and that is enough for me to know I was right in screaming how underrated they were. Btw fun fact; Kili, the guitarist, was a roadie to the Gazette. ^^ And both Peco and Kili have performed as support to a performance of Gackt's! Ok proud momma mode off. xD

I hope you find sth you like, if not, it's ok, we all like different things, but yeah, this was my attempt to entice more people listen to my top favorite visual kei band, AND eccentric agent.

#Youtube #and eccentric agent #and #ANDO #visual kei #vkei #v系 #アンド #アンド eccentric agent #a fangirl's vkei recommendations

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visualkeisales · 2 years ago

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AND BLINDNESS TYPE A $10

#AND #AND ECCENTRIC AGENT #ikuma #kili #peco #ken #kaji #liraizo #reign #breakin' holiday #zero mind infinity #visual kei #visual kei sales #jrock #CD

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stars-obsession-pit · 3 months ago

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The GIW had intended to open overtures with the Doctors Fenton. The pair may have been… eccentric, but their inventions spoke to their value. If they were recruited, it could be a major boon to their organization.

But then, when the agent met with them, a covert alarm on their person went off.

The scientist couple were severely ecto-contaminated. More than most anyone else they’d ever seen, even in Amity Park.

So plans changed.

The pair were captured.

Maybe they could still be employed later if they were successfully cleansed, but for now they were far more useful as test subjects.

#ecto contaminated jack fenton #ecto contaminated maddie fenton #ecto contamination #liminal jack fenton #liminal maddie fenton #giw (danny phantom)#ghost investigation ward #guys in white #danny phantom #dp #danny phantom au #dp au #danny phantom prompt #dp prompt

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fatuismooches · 15 days ago

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𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ♡

Prime Dottore: The original one who has seen and experienced it all. All the segments must answer to him. His ultimate goal besides having humanity surpass the Gods is curing his beloved.

Segment 01 - Alpha: Dottore's grumpy segment from his days in the Akademiya. The Outcast does not need friends or socialization, preferring to spend his time alone, but that feeling quickly dies down once he meets the person who changed the course of his life again. The reason why Prime chose to create this segment first was because he missed the days he once spent as a student with his sweetheart, but he'd never admit that to himself.

Segment 02 - Beta: Dottore's young and eccentric segment from his early days as a Harbinger. He can be easily irritated and impatient when it comes to working with others, but he has gained much personality due to a superb working space as well as meeting many other like-minded people, a stark difference considering he was merely an exiled student not too long ago. However, in Beta's free time, he solemnly works on yet another new gadget for his dearest to play with, adding it to one of the numerous boxes. The reason why Prime chose to create this segment was because his expertise in machinery was too important to let go of.

Segment 04 - Delta: Dottore's serious and stern segment who frightens many agents solely due to his demeanor. Despite his somberness, this segment does not snap or raise his voice at others. His lack of attachment and emotion is a result of his growing loss, and simply a prelude to what's to come as things only continue to spiral. The reason why Prime chose to create this segment was because of the many perfect traits an experimenter should have, despite the ways it was obtained.

Segment 06 - Zeta: Dottore's regretful segment that loathes his failure. He despises his shortcomings for being unable to prevent his dearest from centuries of suffering. Picked straight from the time when the original's loss hit him the hardest, it feels almost cruel to make this segment continuously live with such vivid, horrid memories. However, unlike all those years ago, Zeta now has a sweet voice to fill the void of unbearable silence. The reason why Prime chose to create this segment was to have someone solely dedicated to working on medicines and cures, and perhaps... an uncomfortable reminder of what could be his reality if he can't save his lover.

Segment 10 - Zandy: Dottore's child segment from when he was just a boy. He is as innocent, carefree, and curious about the world just as any child would be, perhaps a bit too curious for others' liking. Although he boasts a cheerful attitude, he struggles to keep it up for certain reasons. However, Zandy continues to smile as he hasn't lost hope... yet - but the inevitable will happen one day. The reason why Prime chose to create this segment was an interest in a child's perspective, but the only way he can understand it is with his darling's help.

Segment 18 - Sigma: Dottore's unusually kind segment that still retains certain unsavory qualities. He seems to be all smiles, and his softer voice tends to throw unprepared agents for a loop, but that calm smile can be turned into one of doom. Pinning down the time period Sigma is from is difficult, considering the existence of a segment like this just seems... wrong, but a good guess would be once he made his biggest step in surpassing the Gods, the pleasure and confidence from such blasphemy coursing through him. The reason why Prime chose to create this segment was the understanding that a gentler demeanor was useful in dealing with certain personalities instead of his other selves.

Segment 21 - Phi: Dottore's female segment and an early prototype of Omega. Her existence is confusing but then again the idea of "segments" already breaks the rules of the world, so it's best not to question it. She is teasing and similarly selfish, though she hasn't quite reached the state the latest segment has, and she has three gleaming red gems instead. Therefore, Phi must be from a time when the original was reaching his limit with what the world has handed a special someone. The reason why Prime chose to create this segment was to push the limits of what he could do once again and satisfy his curiosity.

Segment 24 - Omega: Dottore's selfish segment that has the highest authority after Prime himself, consequently outcasting himself from his other selves. Being the most selfish of them all, it can be assumed that Omega was plucked from a time when the original grew the most fed up with this world. His aura of arrogance and absolute confidence make it nigh impossible for anyone to read him, but finally being able to meet a certain someone has given him a chance to encounter a previously unachievable possibility. The reason why Prime chose to create this segment was simply the desire for another perspective, as well as needing another useful pair of hands.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #zandy bb <3 #fragile reader <3 #thank u skull party anon for asking me this cuz this is good for ppl new to my blog febvrejeq #this list may be updated in the future if anyone wants to give me more brainworms/ideas #divider by cafekitsune

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multifandumbmeg · 4 months ago

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Anthony Lockwood is an emotional chameleon. He changes how he interacts with people to be what they want and need.

Think about how he acts with George. They bicker, they insult each other, they're not touchy-feely, but they get each other. They care about each other. Lockwood treats him like this because that's what George likes: blunt, to the point, back-and-forth banter and sarcasm. He doesn't treat George's neurodivergence or eccentricities as a fault like others, he casually accepts or even lauds them. He's the hands-off but there when you need him friend George needed.

Think about how he treats Lucy. She doesn't realize this is why, which is the cause of much of her internal fury, but he tries to be what she seems to want. Lockwood gives Lucy a huge amount of freedom, doesn't push her to open up, celebrates and accepts her gifts at face value (especially in the books) but in the show when she makes clear what she doesn't want, he apologizes and changes course. He becomes comfortable with her quickly and doesn't treat her differently because she's a girl- he knows she can handle herself and she's just another member of the household, no judgement for being messy or lazy or looking wrecked like the rest of them. He knows that she is closed off and resentful when people pity her or acknowledge her pain, so he shows his affection in subtler ways, like making her toast and tea. Giving her precious things that are part of his past as a show of trust and attempt at vulnerability. Frequently praising her, but only when she truly deserves it, because she wouldn't accept it otherwise. Constantly showing her how much her life is worth to him, no matter how much it drives her crazy. His relationship with Lucy changes as his romantic feelings for her grow, and it gets harder for him to mask how he actually feels and wants to act.

Now here's the controversial one: Lockwood does not show Holly favoritism, nor is a malicious, manipulative monster pitting two women against each other. Every single thing about how Lockwood treats Holly differently can be attributed to him knowing her past and trying to be what she needs. He is helping her. Lucy's internal monologue of intense jealousy is a matter of insecurity. She sees Lockwood's gentleness with Holly as him seeing her as a "real girl" and Lucy herself as "just one of the guys" - read, not a romantic prospect. But Lockwood makes it clear who he favors soon enough: when Lucy decides to leave, he offers to fire Holly immediately because he knows of their feud. It is Lucy he can't live without. Lockwood is, in a word, polite to Holly. He is kind and friendly towards her because her previous boss abused her, and she is traumatized in a fundamentally different way than Lucy. Whereas Lucy hardened but sees the agent life as all she can do, all she is worth, Holly is paralyzingly traumatized by agent work. Which is exactly why he takes her out on cases slowly, watches out for her, and does everything he can to rebuild her confidence. He gets onto to Lucy rather than Holly because 1) Lucy became hostile immediately and fully started their conflict, 2) as mentioned before, Holly is traumatized by an abusive, toxic prior work environment. He's trying to make her feel safe here, and 3) He's completely unaware of how Lucy sees this behavior as a personal slight because he fully respects Lucy as an equal, which he thinks is a compliment.

Also, I think George sees Lockwood's ever-changing personality as completely par for the course. As a fellow neurodivergent, he thinks this parade of masks is how everyone interacts, Lockwood's just good at it.

In conclusion, Lockwood is simply a kind kid with pretty damn high emotional intelligence, which is frankly remarkable considering how alone he's been. Anthony Lockwood tries to be whatever anyone else needs, because there was no one to be it for him.

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #locklyle #lucy carlyle #lockwood & co #lockwood and co spoilers #holly munro #george cubbins #george karim

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catscidr · 5 months ago

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// what's the difference between scotch and whisky anyways //

i. note — /edit/ i said i would fix the formatting later and Now is later hi hellooo. sorry for not posting, i suddenly couldnt bring myself to write for more than five minutes at a time lmaoa ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) but i hope the dottore enjoyers like this at the very least. rn im working on chapter 3 of fbbts and a darker, separate dottore/reader one shot and a couple of jjk fics if anyone would even be interested in reading them lol. but in the meantime, here's drunken shenanigans ft everyone's favorite war criminal ii. includes — dottore x gn!reader, webttore (beta) and omega cameos. various mentioned harbingers iii. cw — fluff, crack sorta, alcohol stuff, dottore is ooc because he's Not Sober, everyone is clingy. fun stuff yk iv. wc — 3,5k -> ao3 link

It’s a popular stereotype that Snezhnayans are heavy drinkers, but the fact lies within the fatui. They’re shameless; whether it’s showing up to work inebriated or drinking on the job, they’ll hold onto the ‘snezhnayans have a high alcohol tolerance’ stereotype with clenched fists and a bottle at their lips.

However, that fact only applies to the lackeys—agents that are stationed for hours on end without a break, agents that, at times, need liquid courage to face the horrors that come with the job. The Harbingers are an entirely different case.

They balance each other, in a way. Where Tartaglia can down three shots of fire water and come out virtually unscathed, Damselette would rather not be caught within a hundred meters of a drop of alcohol. Where The Knave occasionally enjoys a glass of wine in her office, The Balladeer sneers at the choice of drink.

None came together to go out for drinks, if not because of their job taking up a lot of time out of their days. No, none of the Harbingers were really close enough to let themselves be seen so vulnerable, if one dared drink themselves to the point of being unable to walk in a straight line.

Thus, there had only been rumors circulating the halls of Zapolyarny palace. Hushed speculations spoken between coworkers, told with an air of excitement. No one has ever seen their Lords in a state other than wholly glorious, so it’s only human nature to wonder just what they would be like if their dignity were knocked down a peg—how they would be if they indulged in simple human vices.

There are two kinds of Harbingers; ones that lack any rumors about their drinking habits, and ones that are so intriguing that if you were to strike up a conversation with a fatui agent, you would start theorizing about what kind of drunk they’re like before saying hello. Tartaglia and The Knave are part of the former, along with The Rooster and The Fair Lady. The latter consists of (unsurprisingly) The Balladeer, our sweet Damselette, and the two big shots at the top.

Rumors of The Captain’s drinking habits are usually quite short-lived. People either have too much respect for him to speculate about something as childish as how he acts when he’s had too much to drink, or fear him too much to risk spreading rumors.

But regarding The Doctor...

It’s no secret that, even if he is eccentric and has a penchant for unconventional research methods, he has quite the loyal following. Agents will rally to defend him if they hear anyone slandering him, insisting that he’s reasonable and logical. ‘If you simply do your job, you have nothing to worry about’ is what they’d say.

Although he’s amassed his fair share of fans within the fatui, they’re unlike The Captain’s loyal following; The Doctor’s subordinates are the first to whisper theories about their boss’ drinking habits. He’s only part human now, so maybe alcohol doesn’t affect him the way it does normal people like Tartaglia. Oh, but he seems the type to need to unwind occasionally, so maybe he has a secret stash of wine somewhere in his office? What if, in his free time, he creates various concoctions and cocktails to drink?

Seeing as he understands science deeper than anyone else, mixology should be a walk in the park for a scientist as lucrative as him.

Wrong.

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

The glare sent your way is nothing short of vicious. There stood in front of you one of his segments, the one with the infamous short fuse. “Why are you here?”

You internalize the sigh you want to let out, deciding against making him mad when it seems he can’t even stand straight for longer than a few seconds.

“Lord Pantalone dismissed me early.” You strategically omit why he let you go in the first place. “Where’s Prime?”

As per anything retaining to Il Dottore, your relationship was unconventional at best. The term closest to what you were, if you wanted to describe said relationship, would be lovers—but... not quite? Still. Neither you nor Dottore cared enough to put a clear label on it, so you’ve resorted to letting people speculate— it can be quite entertaining to listen to people guess while being loud and wrong, anyways.

You used to work under him as one of his many researchers. When you both started taking your relationship seriously, he threw in the idea of promoting you to being his personal assistant; that way he could (give you special treatment) have someone more competent than his last assistant take care of “menial tasks” like his tedious paperwork.

You refused the generous offer, insisting that it would be unprofessional to work under him as his partner. After many late-night discussions (and stubborn headbutting of differing opinions) you both have come to an agreement in which you would work for Lord Pantalone as a financial planner.

(You finally managed to convince him by bringing up how you could, hypothetically, pull some strings on your end in his favor—that you could persuade Pantalone to allot more funding for his research. If he had any shame left, it would have been embarrassing how quickly he shook your hand to accept your conditions.)

Now, while you spent most of your time in an office in The Regrator’s office building near the Palace, you occasionally came by to drop off documents. Of course, you would use your short trips as an excuse to go see Dottore (even if you could do so at any time anyways, given how much authority he had.)

However, sometimes you just want to work.

You’ll leave the comfort of your cubicle to go see him and the extensions of himself, sure, but you still had a job to do. Papers piled up, clients grew impatient, and even your boss wasn’t immune to their nasty attitude whenever he held a meeting with a particularly irritating client. Thus, sometimes you wished you could truly focus, lose track of time and work until your wrist forced you to take a break.

This wouldn't happen today, clearly. Seeing as one of Dottore’s lackeys rushed to your office to bring you to the Haeresys, you most likely won’t be seeing your desk until further notice.

Now you were stuck with a cryptic Beta, trying your best to use what little knowledge about the clones’ machinery you managed to wring out of your stubborn lover.

“Where’s Prime?” You run a hand over your wrinkled coat sleeve, keeping your voice calm and steady. Patient, else you’d be subjected to the segment’s indignation.

“Dunno.”

You sigh. Is he a scientist or a child? “You do know. Where is he?”

“I told you I don’t know!” He throws his hands up, accidentally striking his mask in the way—effectively leaving it to rest at an angle on his face. Most of his mouth showed now, instead of the half you’re used to seeing. And the holes for the eyes don’t quite go where they should...

Blinking, you take in the sight in front of you while he calms down. His crimson eyes were glassy, and his lips formed a permanent pout, vastly out of character for a segment that supposedly represented The Doctor at the most volatile stage of his life. Azure locks curled around his cheeks, though they were usually tucked out of the way. His clothes were all wrinkled, in a way that left you wondering if you shouldn’t tend to him instead. Dealing with his attitude is annoying, but it’ll be amusing to think about later, I guess.

“Do you really not know...?”

“No.”

“Then, do you know why I was called to the lab?”

“No. Yes... probably not. Uh,” he crosses his arms over his chest and loses his balance for just a second, “I think I do.”

You raise an inquisitive brow, silently encouraging him to continue.

“Give me a second.” Beta shuts his eyes, shoulders slumping. His mask was still crooked—you had half a mind to fix it, but held back the twitch in your fingers. After a few seconds he pipes up, uncrossing his arms to reach out to you.

“Come.”

The segment grabs your wrist and drags you into the hallways of the Palace, ignoring your yelp of surprise and the stares of various agents lingering in the halls. You pass by ornate statues and paintings, the sight more unfamiliar than not.

“Beta, where are we-”

“Hush, I can’t walk when you’re talking my ear off.”

...Right. Something is definitely wrong.

After about five minutes of running around like headless chickens you tug your arm back, making Beta turn around indignantly. You lift your hands up in front of you before he can speak.

“Did you mean to bring me to Lady Signora’s office?” you ask, lips curled up into a small smile seeing his mask still laid crooked on his face. With a gentle hand you fix it, cold fingers grazing his burning cheek.

“...”

Beta’s brows furrow as he avoids your gaze, huffing dramatically. Poor guy, you mused.

“Alright, let’s go to the lab, then. He must be there, right? Where was Prime last time you saw him?”

“...his office, probably,” he murmurs.

With a nod and a smile akin to someone doing some gentle parenting, you place a hand on his back and help guide him to Haeresys. The stairs were hard to walk down, but with just a bit of patience and a bit of Beta clutching your arm while shouting that you were trying to assassinate him, you make it down in one piece.

You remove your gloves and place your palm into the scan, then input the lengthy password to open the laboratory’s large doors. They slide open, revealing the absence of normal researchers and noise. You spot Omega standing over the remains of a ruin machine with a clipboard in his hands and look back towards Beta.

“Go sit, I’ll go ask Omega about Prime’s whereabouts.”

The clone nods, trudging his legs along to lay down on the leather couch tucked away in the lab.

As you put away your large coat and hang it up in the small rack near the doors and make your way towards Omega, you notice the slow rhythm of his handwriting—when he’s usually seemingly speedrunning writing down notes, he’s now leisurely writing away, unaware of your presence.

“Omega.”

The latter turns to you, masking his surprise with a small smile instead. “My dear,” he practically purrs, putting away the clipboard in a swift movement, placing the pen in his coat pocket.

“I was alerted that something was... off, with Prime. Do you know where he is?”

And where you thought Omega would pick up on Beta’s lack of decorum, you were sorely mistaken. The clone walks up to you with that same smile brightening his features, placing both hands on your shoulders oh so gently.

“He’s in his office. But enough about him, I haven’t seen you in a while, beloved. Why must you keep me away from you?” he muses, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You tilt your head to avoid being stabbed by his mask’s beak, raising your hands to press against his chest to make some distance. The action proved to be futile, of course.

We saw each other yesterday, you murmur. “I’m sorry, I’ll get back to you in a moment, alright?” You offer him a warm smile in hopes that he’ll listen, seeing as he seemed to be quite... mushy.

It works, and he lets you go with a curt nod, retreating to go... somewhere. You didn’t linger around long enough to figure it out, since you knew where to go now.

Walking across the lab, you note how things seemed to be more out of place than usual. It couldn’t have been a researcher, they always had to clean up after themselves, courtesy of their boss. So, the mess had to be caused by them...

You finally stand in front of his door, raising a fist to knock. A yelp leaves you as you’re whisked away, the door slamming shut just as quickly as it swung open.

“Dottor-”

“Can you fucking believe how inept these agents are? They dare speak to me with such disrespect after delivering the lousiest job I’ve ever seen.” Dottore rambles, pulling you deeper into his office. You observe the state of his workspace, namely the papers scattered onto the ground and the... bottlecap on the floor, right next to his trashcan filled with crumpled up paper...?

“Showing up in the lab with their damn hands empty save for the half empty bottle of scotch they tried to hide. Idiots were too shitfaced to notice how I noticed.”

“Okay, Dottore, what are you-”

He gestures wildly as he speaks, his hands the only way for you to read him as his mask hid most of his features. The blue lines taunt you; though you’re tempted to take it off, you feel like he might just lunge at you if you did.

“And then they had the gall to insist that the bottle was theirs when I confiscated it.” Dottore pushes you down to sit on the couch, a small oof leaving you in consequence. “Anything that enters this fucking lab belongs to me, I’m the boss, I decide what flies and what does not.”

Absolutely unaware of your muffled giggles as you piece things together, he keeps ranting, turning his back to you as he stomps away towards his desk. “Not to mention these damn lackeys have had multiple warnings up until now,” he spits out. “Lord Harbinger, we’re sorry! We’ll clean up the lab to make up for this offense! Lord Harbinger, it won’t happen again! Who do they take me for, a moron?!”

The higher pitch he uses to imitate (and make fun of) the agents almost makes you lose it. But you keep your composure, sitting demurely, listening.

Dottore comes back with a bottle in hand, orange liquid swirling around the thick glass as he stumbles closer to where you sat. He joins you without warning, creating a dip in the sofa next to you—almost forcing you to lean onto him for support. His free arm drapes over the back as he sighs loudly, making you stifle a laugh behind your hand.

A pregnant pause stretches between the two of you as his anger simmers down to embers. You lean forward, attempting to take a look at the label on the bottle in his hand.

“What’re you holding there, love?” you ask sweetly. Glancing up you’re able to steal a peek at his eyes from underneath his dark mask—Archons was he absolutely gone.

It takes him a second to respond, almost as if he forgot you were even there in the first place.

“Whisky.”

“I thought it was scotch.”

“Same thing.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s n-”

“It is.”

Maybe it wasn't the brightest thing to do, messing with him while he’s this inebriated. But it sure was entertaining.

“Alright. Well, how much did you drink?”

“A sip or two.”

As if on cue, he brings the bottle up to his lips and takes a swig. Your grin widens, thoroughly entertained by the show; who else had the privilege of seeing The Doctor so drunk he could barely formulate something that made sense?

You bring his attention back on you as you place a hand on his knee, leaning close. Dottore immediately snaps into place, gaze flickering down to your lips from the proximity.

With a swift hand you grab the scotch from his hands, inspecting the amount still left in the bottle. If he said it was half empty when he confiscated it, then...

“Dearest, did you drink a quarter of this bottle?” You're not even supposed to drink it straight from the bottle, either is what you wished to add, but seeing how defensive he was already, you figured it would just make things more complicated than they needed to be.

As if stung by the Tsaritsa’s delusion, he immediately stiffens and defends himself. “I did not, I told you I only had a sip.”

The way his bottom lip jutted out was almost cute, if you dared to describe him in such a way. Compliments could wait though; you had answers to seek.

“Mhm, a sip. Well,” you put the bottle down on a coaster on the coffee table and turn to face him properly, “what happened to the segments? They’re all a little... woozy.” Your fingers trail his arm, tracing circles in their wake.

Dottore swallows, Adam's apple bobbing as he opens his mouth to speak. “We’re connected, albeit loosely. They could be affected by the few sips of scotch I drank, though I would have some work cut out for me if that were the case. I can’t let them be so weak after all.”

The way he spoke sounded, for lack of better words, pouty.

Was he... sulking?

“And since we’re connected, I know you spoke to Beta ‘n Omega earlier.”

He most definitely is. He's even slurring his words, now...

“Yeah? I was asking them where you were so I could check up on you, baby.” You chuckle softly, taking the liberty of putting his mask away. Bright, glassy red eyes stare down into you, and you hold back the urge to smother his face in kisses.

“You didn’t have to talk to them, you could have just asked me.”

“I was looking for you, so I couldn’t have.”

“Why not?”

You scoff, smiling as you adjust yourself on the couch. Dottore notices and takes the liberty of pushing you down, laying his head down so his ear is on your chest, cheek pressed up into you. “I’m sorry, I’ll ask you next time,” you respond.

That satisfies him, enough to render him silent for a handful of seconds before he speaks up again.

“...I need to get back to work,” he huffs.

You bring a hand up and run it through his disheveled locks, careful not to tug at the small knots in the hair at the back of his neck. Twirling the hair of his mullet you hum, noting how his weight seemed to grow heavier as the seconds passed. No way is he going to get any work done if he falls asleep here.

“Take a break, you deserve it. In the meantime, you can think of a suitable way to punish those stupid agents from earlier, right?”

A quiet hum is all you get in response. You look down expecting to see his unnerving red eyes to be staring up at you, but you’re met with the sight of his features completely lax instead. Azure hair pools around his face, settling on your chest where his face rose in time with your breaths.

You would have dimmed the lights and turned off his computer if you knew he was going to keep you hostage on the couch. Though you can’t really complain at the turn of events; it’s rare for Dottore to be the one to initiate skinship in the relationship.

It was quiet, but you managed to hear the low dear? that left his lips. You hum, not wanting to speak as to not break the quiet atmosphere lulling you to a sense of peace.

After a minute of silence, you decide to repeat yourself—this time a little louder than before. “What is it?”

Another minute passes, just as quiet as the last. The sound of his slow, deep breaths fills the room, accompanied by the low scratches of your nails on his scalp. His hair parts where your fingers tread through it, and you quietly note that you should trim his hair soon.

Il Dottore’s poor alcohol tolerance will always be a mystery to the public, because there’s no way you would ever let anyone in on the way he cuddles up to you when he’s had too much to drink.

#dottore x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x you #il dottore x you #dottore genshin impact #dottore x gn reader #il dottore x gn reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #cw drinking #cw swearing

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