#at the risk of rambling in the tags. have a final little fun fact:
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
suzena · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Like making angels out of crows
30 notes · View notes
another-corpo-rat · 2 years ago
Text
OC Playlist Meme
Tagged by @swearingcactus (tyyy <33) copying the sharing a wip along with these cos thats such a fun idea and it is wip wednesday my dudes alas my readable wips are but snippets rn so also including my characteristic ramblings as well
.
Hello Zepp + Overture
“So long as I won’t lose my life through sparing his…” She mirrors Hanako’s pause, not for dramatic effect or to consider her words but merely because she could. Gesturing lazily with her hand, “I’ll allow it.” And it’s a delicious thought; that Yorinobu’s survival is decided on her whim. Maybe if he knew that he wouldn’t have tried fucking her around, instead ordering Adam to kill her the moment he felt her gaze sharpen against his back.
One of the more recent additions to her playlist due to the fact I feel like I don't explore or put forward how truly cruel this woman can be. I needed a little reminder of that and what better way than the theme from one of my favourite horror franchises. There's something about 2:23 onwards that really meshes with her; the potential for tragedy that builds into something decidedly not in that vein.
Call Me Cruella
Victoria hums, amused but there’s an edge to it. A sharp point aiming squarely at the man across the room. “He’s a nobody.” She hisses, venom finally curling around her tongue and dousing the words.
I refuse to watch the film this song is from but my goddd if there's a single song that suits Ms Victoria Crane near perfectly its this one; the sheer unapologetic nature of indulging in one's own awfulness and THRIVING for it. The threads of vanity and fashion throughout the lyrics are just perfect too, esp for my fashion-indulgent lil bitch tbh
Villain
Victoria’s violence is different, much different than hers and Adam’s; an insidious flow of insults off a barbed tongue, coated in a soft rasp that makes the horrid words pleasant to listen to. Different and bloodless, yet entrancing all the same.
While I adore Call Me Cruella and do consider it largely Victoria's 'song;' this was what I had playing constantly throughout all of her development. It was probably what had me lean into making her a corpo since I wasn't happy with her in the Street-kid origin, and just making her unapologetically a villain. i could have just made her an awful street-kid but also. i like evil women in suits
From Eden
And she would never accuse him of being soft, even in his gentler moments there’s a risk of cutting herself against him. Both literally and not. But there’s something cautious to him now, a lightness to his touch, a hesitance that strikes her as odd. “Adam?” She breathes out into the dark of the room, watching the barest glints of light shift against the edges of his frame. His optics brighten minutely, a barely-there flash of surprise and his hand pauses, knuckles gentle in their rest against her cheek.
and this is just purely there for self-indulgence. hozier just has me in a chokehold and there's something about this one of his that lowkey fits Victoria/Adam and the thing they both refuse to put a name to for the longest time.
.
Tagging with no pressure! @merge-conflict, @vox-monstera, @theviridianbunny
9 notes · View notes
alpacaparkaseok · 3 years ago
Text
Heartbreak Ave.
When they’re in love with you but you have feelings for a different member (Hyung line)
→ tags/warnings: SFW, angstyyyyy (like, I’m sorry but at the same time I wanted to write something sad), no, there’s not a happy ending really idk so read at your own heart’s risk, but like really. I was listening to “Manos de Tijera” while writing this so it’s a wee bit heartbreaking
→ a/n: I don’t really write reactions very often but this seemed fun when @sierra-fics​ brought it up! I actually have one of your suggestions in my drafts, just haven’t finished it up yet. Thanks for the push, though! I love exploring different styles!
read the maknae line version here!
Tumblr media
Kim Seokjin
he’s not surprised
it’s probably the worst part for him, the fact that he’s not surprised when your eyes light up as Taehyung waltzes in the room. 
he had been in the middle of plucking up the courage to invite you to try out that new Thai restaurant you’d been chattering about when Tae walked in
and you tried - you really did - to pay attention to what Jin had been saying, but you faltered a bit as Tae greeted you warmly and plopped down beside Jin
and Jin just watched, not surprised. 
although what does surprise him is how much it hurts
that pain where your heart literally, physically hurts? it’s an exquisite pain, one that takes his breath away
and it doesn’t go away
it doesn’t fade
so he ends up in Namjoon’s studio later that night, and Namjoon knows to wait for him to open up
Jin just stares for a while, blankly at the wall
“Does Tae like her?”
Namjoon already knows who he’s referring to. He’s known about Jin’s helpless crush on you for ages, he knew before Jin himself figured it out
but it’s the way that Jin asks the question so softly, so carefully, that Namjoon realizes with a start that this is so much more than a crush
and Jin looks at him, misery clear in his eyes but also clear resolve visible  even as unshed tears glimmer 
“Would you really let her go?” Namjoon counters gently. Because he knows. He knows that if Tae got the green light, you'd be swept up in a matter of seconds.
and it’s the way that Jin stares down at his feet, and the tears begin rolling down his cheeks, that has Namjoon sick to his stomach
Jin nods, and when he speaks, his voice shakes but he sounds so earnest that it breaks Namjoon’s heart
“I’d do anything for her.”
no words are exchanged after that for a long, heart-wrenching moment. it’s just Jin, staring down at his feet and quietly sobbing, and Namjoon, pulling him into an embrace. 
“I’m sorry, hyung.”
it’s surprising to Jin, just how much that soft phrase cuts through him. It sounds so final. 
because at the end of the day, it’s the only solace that can be offered to him. 
he lost. 
he loved, and he lost.
Min Yoongi
you’re sitting beside him in his studio when the realization hits him like a freight train
sprawled sideways in your designated swivel chair while you stifle a yawn and rub your eyes, Yoongi wonders when he let his emotions get so out of hand
because you’re offering him a shy smile and asking him a question that he numbly answers, but on the inside he’s a total clueless mess
when did he fall in love with you?
it’s something that will haunt him long after you leave that night, rushing out when you get a call from Hobi
for the second time that night, he’s hit with another realization
he’s still reeling from the fact that he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you, so when you gasp and grin when your phone light up with a call, he falters
it’s like being doused with a bucket of ice water, the way you whisper, “oh, it’s Hobi!” and politely ask if you can take the call before rushing out into the hallway
“oh,” he mumbles to himself as the door closes. “it’s Hobi.”
and he laughs. 
quietly, darkly. he laughs to himself, at himself, whatever. 
because of course it’s Hobi. his best friend, his vitamin. you two deserve each other. of that much he’s certain. 
he doesn’t waste too much time feeling sorry for himself; he’s logical enough to see that you two are probably a better match. it’s nothing personal.
so why does he stay in his studio all night, ignoring any calls or messages sent his way?
he’s not sure when he fell asleep, but next thing he knows he’s sprawled out on his little couch and you’re gently shaking him awake
“Yoongo? Did you stay here last night?”
his eyes crack open at the sound of your voice, just enough to be met with your sweet smile
and he, in his half-asleep state, smiles back. he reaches one hand up to gently brush back a strand of your hair, and he swears you lean into his touch
and when you mumble something about Hobi bringing breakfast up, Yoongi is hit with the third realization in less that twenty-four hours.
it’s startlingly simple: 
he wants to cry. 
so he excuses himself to the bathroom, and cries. sets a five minute timer so nobody gets worried and comes looking for him, and allows himself that time to cry. 
then, with machine-like precision, he washes his face and puts some eyedrops in, and goes back out to pretend like everything is fine.
and whenever Jin or Taehyung bring up acting, Yoongi knows. He knows, deep down, that he’s the best actor of all. 
because he still loves you
and you will never know.
Jung Hoseok
hobi has never been the most forthcoming with his emotions
he keeps them on lockdown
monitors them with military-like focus
so he knows the exact moment he begins developing feelings for you
(it’s when you brought Bang PD a bouquet for valentine’s day, just to make him blush)
and he knows the exact second when he fell in love
(it was when, after a grueling day at work, you silently walked through his door with his favorite goodies and left without a single word)
(you were wearing a yellow cardigan that day)
(he’s never looked at the color yellow the same way)
if he’s completely honest, he’s sometimes trying so hard to stay on top of his own feelings that he forgets to watch out for where your attention may be drifting
to be fair, you kept your own little crush on Jimin a secret
so when Hobi decides to get over himself and just shoot his shot, he decides he’s all in
and when you arrive at his apartment that night for a movie, you’re shocked to see a bouquet of yellow flowers in Hobi’s shaking hands
“hey” he breathes
you stare at the flowers, then at him
“hello...?” then, with a sinking felling, you point at the flowers. “are those for me?”
hobi smiles broadly. “yeah, they are.” and he hands them to you, allowing his fingers to brush up against yours 
it’s electrifying, that small touch
and again, he’s so focused on how electrifying it is that he misses the way you look like you might be sick
pale face, concerned expression
he misses it all, because he’s so nervous but so stupidly in love that he’s just barreling ahead.
gotta get this out of the way
ugh, feelings
and so when he leads you to sit with him out on the balcony, he takes a deep breath and looks at you with wonder in his eyes
and that’s when he notices the way you’re fiddling with your bracelet
not a problem, except for the fact that it’s the one he saw Jimin carefully choosing from an online collection
so when you keep fiddling with the bracelet and avoiding Hobi’s eye contact, he gets it
he takes a long look at all those emotions he keeps in check, and allows himself a moment of self-pity before reaching out and laying a hand atop your own
you immediately stop fidgeting and look at him with wide eyes. he can see with a pang how you’re trying to come up with the best way to let him down easy
so he does the job for you
“I just wanted to say thank you for the other day,” he says, forcing a light tone. “when you brought me those goodies after work. It really meant a lot.”
you blink, confused. “Oh. uh, you’re welcome.”
“and,” he drawls, a well-rehearsed smile clawing its way onto his face, “I wanted to snoop and get the inside scoop about Jiminie. I know he got you that bracelet. did he finally cave and confess to you?”
you look shocked, but you burst out into relieved laughter. “how did you know?”
he didn’t. “how could I not? he’s absolutely whipped.”
and you blush under the stars and begin to ramble, lost in your excitement and joy. 
and Hobi watches. smiling. supportive. laughing at the right spots and asking all the right questions. 
later, when you give him a tight hug and thank him for the fun night, he lets the words sting as you call him “such a great friend.” he lets them sting, relishing in the pain. 
he reminds you to take your flowers home, and you begrudgingly admit that they’re your favorite type of flower. 
he didn’t know. but that hurts, too. the fact that he got it right. 
Hobi never looks at the color yellow the same way again.
Kim Namjoon
he’s told you he loves you a million times now
every night, in every dream, he tells you how much he loves you
adores you with everything he is
you manage to find your way into his music, his musings, every piece of artwork he comes across
he's never been like this before
never, he’s sure of it
and everyone knows, except for you.
it becomes a strange game for the boys to play, dropping hints at every opportunity, laughing at your confused expression
Jungkook and Taehyung especially enjoy the chaos that they create, making Namjoon groan and grow embarrassed
but you have no idea
or are you just willfully ignorant?
all Namjoon knows is that he’s swimming in his feelings for you, completely lost and on the verge of drowning
but, oh, what a way to die
he’s never been able to stop himself when it comes to you
and he considers himself rather disciplined, but the way you make him feel he could throw caution to the wind and give it all up
so when you end up staying late one night at the apartment, the boys manage to convince you to stay
“there’s plenty of room” Jungkook muses, feigning deep thought. “besides, it’s too late for you to drive back tonight. just stay.”
and while Namjoon wants to kill them all for the way they offer up his bed to you, he thinks he might actually die when you reluctantly agree with a yawn
he knows he should offer to take the couch, but something stops him
it’s like he physically can’t
“I don’t mind sharing the bed” you state, squinting at him while wearing his basketball shorts and oversized t-shirt. 
you look adorable. he’s unsure of how he’s even functioning right now, to be honest. he’s melting.
“just keep your snoring in check, loser”
and he’s back to laughing, turning off the light and hopping into bed
you’re so far away
why are you so far away?
“hey” he whispers, the sound so loud in the quiet. the only other sound is the muffled voices of the other members, no doubt down in the kitchen gossiping about the events of the night
“hey yourself” you whisper back, turning to face him
he can see you in the moonlight, his eyes having adjusted just enough.
and he wants to kiss you so badly
so he smiles, heart leaping when you smile back
and he reaches out, gently tracing your jawline. 
you say nothing, heart thundering in your chest
because to be honest, you’re confused 
why is he looking at you like that?
but you don’t ask as Namjoon takes a deep breath, steadying himself before propping himself up on one elbow and looking down at you with an adoring expression
your eyes flutter closed as he brushes his thumb against your cheek, and he can feel your heartbeat racing
your reaction gives him all the courage he needs as he leans down, lips capturing your own in a long, sweet kiss
and he’s going out of his mind because he finally kissed you, didn’t he?! finally!! 
but those are your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling him in closer you’re gently pushing him away
“namjoon.”
he’s never hated his name so much.
“I’m so sorry- I- I thought that maybe-” he stutters, pulling himself upright as you do the same, and he launches out of bed, hands in his hair “I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”
“Namjoon.” you repeat, and he notices now how utterly distraught you look. 
because you’re still confused, but there’s one name rolling around in your head even as you can still taste namjoon on your lips. 
“I...” you shake your head, unsure of what to say. “It’s just...”
and he’s looking at you with big eyes, taking in every single word you say. and you want to take it all back, want to let him kiss you until you’re breathless, but your heart won’t let you. 
“Just what?” he asks quietly, afraid of the answer. so afraid
“...Jungkook.”
two syllables, and his world comes crashing down around him. 
namjoon is silent, avoiding your gaze as he grabs one of the pillows off of the bed and a spare blanket, heading toward the door. 
“I’ll sleep on the couch. I’m sorry.”
and he’s gone before you can utter another word. 
sure enough, the boys are still downstairs, and they all fall silent as Namjoon appears, throwing the pillow down on the couch. 
“Hyung!” Jungkook asks, scrambling over. “Hyung, what happened? What are you doing down here?”
Namjoon can’t bring himself to look at the maknae, not when he can still picture how it felt to kiss you. not when those few seconds of paradise are still on his lips. 
“Didn’t wanna wake her up with my snoring.”
because how could he ever be angry at the boy that looks at him like he’s his savior?
--
m.list || buy me an orange juice?
thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so other people can read it! 💖
taglist: @baepsaetay​ @dreamcatcherjiah​ @kookie-vuitton​ @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write​ @fangirl125reader​ @heishichoulevi@knjkitten​ @sacha-cff​ @vik7797  @eusticenatalie​ @hesmyphenominiall​@miriamxsworld​​ @kayahay​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @marianeamine​@hqtetsurou​ @protontippens​ @beginwithamin​ @limiworld​  @jeonyoongi-jimin @buttvi​ @yoontaethings​ @sunshinejunghoseokie​ @delacyrose224​@jiminiesmagicshop​ @hitsussi @fanfictonreader05 @hyungieyoongi​ @lolalee24​
all rights reserved © alpacaparkaseok
280 notes · View notes
eldritchqueerture · 3 years ago
Text
Hello! This is a project for @summer-in-the-archives-event that I worked on with @horizonindigo! We came up with the idea together and based our individual works around the poem I wrote, included in the fic. You can find their absolutely amazing art here!!
I freaking loved working on this one and I got more and more excited as we progressed. I also surprised myself with the poem itself a bit, definitely didn’t expect it to end up quite as cool, if I may say so myself. It was incredibly fun to write.
Big shoutout to @sunflowers-and-frogs for beta reading, I love you bestie <3
I would like to thank all the mods that made this event possible! It’s my first time taking part in anything like this and it was really, really fun, so THANK YOU <3 Love you guys :3 Anyways, enough of my rambling kdfjgkjsdfg
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Relationship: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical The Lonely Content (The Magnus Archives), Kissing, Excessive Tea-Making, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Poetry, Love Confessions Warnings: self-esteem issues, typical Lonely content, discussions of free-will and determinism, graphic kiss
Summary: As Martin fights the remnants of the Lonely's influence on their ride to Daisy's safehouse in Scotland, he focuses on his feelings for Jon to keep him tethered to reality. He watches Jon be himself in the safety of the cottage, share these small intimacies of domesticity and the words come to him as a poem weaves itself into the pages of his notebook...
He feels the taste of salt in his mouth, as he looks out of the car window at the rapidly falling away landscape, covered in the darkness of the night. He feels Jon’s presence next to him, focused on driving but glancing every so often at him with concern. Martin feels like he should say something, somehow fill the silence that has befallen them, but no words ever find their way to his mouth. He stays quiet, watching the trees pass them by, trying to ignore the anxious churning in his stomach. He’s always been pretty good at filling awkward silences with chatter; at least before the Lonely. Now… he can’t help but feel bothered by Jon’s presence, even though he did all of this for him, even though this is what he’s wanted all this time; it’s like a splinter, prickling at his mind, almost causing him physical discomfort. He swallows and feels the salty taste on his tongue; he discards the thoughts and tries his best to breathe through the discomfort, instead focusing on the sensation of Jon’s warm hand on his.
Martin used to be the warm one; he’d always been generating heat and his mind goes back to the early days in the Archives when the basement was cold in the winter and both Tim and Sasha used to gravitate towards him with their respective cups of tea during breaks. Now his whole body is cold, the chill of the ocean breeze and fog having settled in his bones so deep he thinks he’ll never feel warm again. The thought isn’t sparking any emotions in him though. It’s just a thing that he’s learned to accept, just as the fact that he’ll always be alo—
“Do you want me to put on some music?” Jon asks with another one of his glances. Every time, he raises his eyebrows a bit, and tilts his head to the side; Martin expects the concern in his eyes, but he sees something else there as well. He’s been afraid to put a label to the expression for the fear he’s reading him wrong, but the bolder part of his mind tells him it’s fondness.
Jon’s hand is warm, and his thumb grazes the skin of his palm just a little, as if not sure he’s allowed to. Martin looks down at their hands and feels warmth spark in his stomach; he smiles.
“I’m sorry I’m—I’m not really good at the whole, uh… small talk thing,” Jon adds with a flush, turning his head back to the road. “I should probably be talking about something, though, to, uh… to keep you here. I suppose.” He visibly cringes at his words.
“It’s—It’s fine, Jon,” Martin chuckles, and Jon relaxes, fixing him with a quick smile of his own. “I’m just… you know.” He looks down at their hands again and has a brief feeling they belong to someone else. Not him. Never him. “I’m not quite… out of that. Yet.”
Another look of concern. Martin feels heat prickling at his cheeks and he’s a little bit glad, because at least it’s a feeling. He interlaces their fingers and looks out the front window.
They spend the ride in relative silence. Jon tries a couple more times to start small talk and fails; they stop at a gas station at one point and Martin takes out his notebook when Jon disappears inside the station to pay for gas. He flicks through it and his eyes stop at an unfinished draft; he started writing it shortly before Peter took him down to the Panopticon, but he’d only managed to get a few first lines down. Despite still feeling the cold in his bones and his mind being clouded by the remains of the fog, words come to him, and he starts scribbling. He continues to do so even when Jon comes back with tea and an assortment of snacks, blushing just a little bit when Jon shoots a curious look at the notebook. He doesn’t ask and Martin is thankful for it. He’s not the sort to show his drafts to anyone, especially to the subject he’s writing about.
It’s 1am when they arrive at the cottage; they’re both exhausted and they quickly take their bags inside and lock the door. The cottage is small and practical, just Daisy’s style; it’s also quite dusty from months of abandonment. Martin yawns as he opens one of the bags to get the essentials. They should leave unpacking and cleaning for the next day.
He hears Jon’s footsteps on the wooden floor coming back from the initial run of the house and he turns to tell him that, but the somewhat sheepish look on his face stops him in his tracks. Has he ever seen Jon look sheepish before?
“So, uh, obviously this was Daisy’s safehouse when she was, well… Avoiding people,” he says, not meeting Martin’s eyes.
“I hope ‘avoiding people’ doesn’t mean killing them in this context,” Martin snorts, not sure if he’s entirely joking. The humour is lost on Jon, however, as he looks at him confused for a moment before he processes Martin’s words.
“Oh, no, no, I-I don’t believe she, uh… She just slept here.” Jon shifts awkwardly. “And that means there’s uh, there’s only one bed.”
Martin’s eyes widen and his lips form a little “Oh”.
“Of course, if you’re not comfortable with sharing, I can just take the couch, you need some proper rest and I’m used to running on low sleep” —Jon averts his gaze as he speaks. He grabs his bag and walks over to the couch, and Martin wants to stop him talking and just say that they should share the bed, but his voice seems to have left him at this crucial moment. He just stares as Jon places the bag on the couch and looks back at him, aware of the silence. “Martin?”
Martin swallows, a familiar cold freezing his toes. He feels the damp sand underneath his bare feet and a chill runs down his spine. He blinks and tightens his grip on the bag he’s been holding. This is real, he is real, Jon is real.
“You need good rest too,” he finally manages to say, and he’s surprised by how clear and normal his voice sounds; it makes Jon relax a bit. “We should share the bed, if-if you are comfortable with that.”
A small smile appears on Jon’s lips and a warm feeling fills Martin’s stomach again; he knows the smile is for him.
“Okay,” he says softly and picks the bag up.
They manage to keep the awkwardness of it to the minimum; they’re both very tired and at one point it just doesn’t matter anymore. Jon hands Martin a separate blanket and he pushes the disappointment down into a void inside him where he keeps feelings to come back to when he’s alone. It would be foolish of him to hope for cuddling since they haven’t talked about anything yet.
He expects to fall asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow, but he finds himself awake in the darkness after goodnights are said (Jon’s voice sounds so soft and tender Martin has forgotten all about his earlier disappointment). He’s laying on his back, eyes closed, and he feels Jon’s presence on his right. His breathing is steady, not yet slow enough to indicate sleep, but calm and relaxed. Martin peeks out through half-lidded eyes – he hasn’t gotten used to the darkness as much yet, but he can see Jon laying on his side, facing him, his eyes closed and his hair loosely framing his face. One of his hands rests close to his head on the pillow. Martin blinks, fully opening his eyes now and smiling softly. As his vision clears, Martin notices Jon frowning ever so slightly, and he wonders if the faint lines between his eyebrows smoothen when he’s asleep.
“Is watching people sleep a usual activity for you?” Jon whispers with amusement as he opens his eyes and Martin gasps with surprise and looks away, feeling heat prickle at his cheeks.
“Wha—uh, no! No, of course no—Sorry, I—” He rambles, and he thinks he might just die from embarrassment when he hears Jon laugh quietly.
“It’s fine, Martin.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “Really. I-- Sorry, I thought a joke would, um… lighten the mood somewhat.”
Martin risks a look at him and wonders if the red on his cheeks is visible through the darkness. Jon looks at him with that expression again, something Martin would very much want to classify as fondness if it didn’t feel so impossible. But now that he thinks about it… Would it really be thatfar-fetched? Jon had gone into the Lonely just to get him out. Would he have done that for anyone else? Martin rolls his eyes at himself in his mind, of course he would. He did go into the Buried, and it was for Daisy, a person who has threatened him multiple times, kidnapped and almost killed him. If Jon was ready to lay down his life for her, out of all of them, it shouldn’t be surprising he would do the same for his assistant; it says nothing about his feelings on the matter.
Martin’s memories of the Lonely are hazy. He remembers the cold, the dampness, and the loneliness. He remembers his thoughts, the lonely ones, and how they felt both alien and familiar at the same time. He remembers the comfort, the feeling of fitting in, but also the pain and the fear, just before they were numbed by the cold and the fog that made him forget. And then suddenly, Jon was in front of him, looking at him with desperation on his face, tears in his eyes glowing with a green light. Was it Jon calling for him, or just the Beholding?
“What are you thinking about?” comes Jon’s voice and Martin realizes he’s been staring into the air for a while. He blinks and looks back at Jon.
“Uh…” He searches for words before he gives up on trying to come up with an excuse. His voice is quiet when he speaks. “Why did you do it?”
Jon blinks at him a couple times and rises to lean on his elbow, to better look at Martin.
“What do you mean?”
“The Lonely,” Martin says, not meeting his eyes. Jon is wearing a blue t-shirt with a logo of a band Martin doesn’t recognize; the shirt is loose and it uncovers one of Jon's shoulders which would probably be distracting if Martin’s mind wasn't chilled by the remnants of the fog. “Why did you come for me?”
Even without looking at him, Martin sees Jon’s forehead ripple. A while passes as Jon searches his face and the thought that he shouldn’t have asked starts creeping up to Martin’s head. Shouldn’t have brought any attention to the subject, he should just be glad, he should—
“I care about you, Martin,” Jon says in a very gentle and quiet voice, like he’s afraid anything louder would take away the meaning of his words. Martin looks up at Jon and the hint of that intense blush from before makes it back to his face. “You’re… You matter to me. You will always matter to me.”
Martin can’t stop a small smile appearing on his face and Jon mirrors it.
“Thank you,” Martin whispers, feeling a warmth settle in his chest, finally driving the cold away.
“Anytime.” Jon lays his head back down and settles back with the right hand near his face. “Sleep well, Martin.”
Martin closes his eyes contentedly and he curls up on his right side, facing Jon, as if trying to keep this warm feeling from escaping his chest too soon.
“You too, Jon.”
---
Martin wakes up alone in an unfamiliar bed, the smell of foreign covers filling his nostrils and for a second he panics. He opens his eyes and the memories come back to him; their late arrival at the safehouse and laying down to sleep next to Jon.
He sits up, looking at the space Jon had occupied. It’s vacant now, just the curled up covers he left behind, but it manages to bring a blush to Martin’s cheeks, nonetheless. It feels so… intimate to know that they slept next to each other. It makes him feel warm and cosy.
Martin gets up and goes to the bathroom before he finds Jon in the kitchen. He’s humming quietly as he finishes cleaning the table and he looks up when Martin enters.
“Good morning, Martin.” He smiles and Martin’s afraid he’s going to melt. He takes a quick look around and notices that their sparse kitchen supplies are mostly unpacked, and the kettle is already on the stove.
“How long have you been awake?” He asks; some of the shock must have made it to his voice because Jon looks amused.
“Two hours or so. I’ve always been a morning person.” He shrugs and finishes cleaning the table. “Tea?”
A smile lights up Martin’s face and he gets swept up by the familiarity of the activity, while Jon busies himself with fixing up some breakfast. As both of them work in the kitchen, Martin notices the casual brushes of their skin and touches of the shoulders. He doesn’t know if he’s doing it consciously or if it just happens naturally, but he knows that Jon’s open demeanour is drawing him closer than before. He wonders if he’s been like this ever since he woke up from the coma, and there was just no one to appreciate it.
The morning is relaxed, the casual conversation flowing a lot smoother than the day before, and after breakfast they set out to clean the whole cottage and go down to the village to buy some actual supplies. The village is small, but the local shop provides all the essentials they need; for a moment Martin forgets about everything outside of that village and shopping for groceries with Jon, as if this is their life now, in the Scottish Highlands, living together in a cottage. They talk about cooking dinner, and the cows they passed on the way, and Martin thinks he could get used to that.
The bubble bursts when they finish up and Jon decides to call Basira. She picks up after a while and updates them on the absence of both Jonah Magnus and Daisy. Basira says she’ll send some statements up to them when the Institute stops being an active crime scene, and a shadow passes over Jon’s face. Wrapped up in a conversation about their taste in dinner dishes, it was almost too easy for Martin to forget food isn’t the only sustenance Jon needs. He finds it easier to forget things ever since the Lonely. They walk back to their cottage in silence, Martin grabbing Jon’s hand as soon as he lets go of the phone.
When they get back, Jon declares he’s going to take care of unpacking and cooking, and even though Martin knows Jon to be stupidly stubborn, he’s surprised by the strictness with which Jon insists he sit back and relax. Martin doesn’t really complain; he’s spent his entire life caring for others and, to be honest, it does feel rather good to be on the receiving end for once. He watches Jon from the couch for a while, before he takes out his notebook and looks over the poem he wrote in the car.
Wisps of mist conceal my eyes
A lone indulgence to lose one's face
And soothing a part inside that cries
With chilling sadness and numbing grace
The steadfast rhythm of waves ashore
As ocean breeze leaves a taste of salt
The words forgotten, erase what I swore
Until I hear your voice once more
I wondered many times what it might be
That we finally took to calling "us"
What would be left if we broke free
Of dread and horror's eternal grasp
The Eye looms aloft, ever-present dread
Watching all, eternal lids apart
You made your choice unaware you were led
By strings of web, against your heart
Jon starts humming under his nose in the kitchen as he cuts something on the board; the water in the kettle boils slowly and fills the air with a quiet whistle. Martin smiles while shooting a subtle glance at Jon; he seems to notice his gaze and falls quiet, but a smile lights up his face when he sees the fondness on Martin’s face. For all this talk about Jon “losing himself” in the role of the Archivist, this seems as human as you can get. Martin never favoured the approach the other archival staff took to the knowledge of the significance of Jon’s position, and he often wondered how they could look at him and see a monster. Of course he made bad decisions, but so did everyone. They’ve seen or read about so many avatars giving into the powers that fed them and yes, maybe Martin is biased, but Jon was nothing like them. They’ve all been caught in this huge web of statements that turned real; the more they struggled to break free the more tangled up they became, and it wasn’t Jon’s fault that he ended up in the centre of it. He knows Jon tried to make right choices every step of the way. Can you really blame a human being for failing to completely resist something that’s beyond mortality and human reality? One way or another they ended up here, together, and yes, maybe the Eye and the Lonely are still looming as very tangible threats, and Jonah Magnus is nowhere near being stopped, but at least they’re together now. Martin remembers thinking the Unknowing was the endgame, the last chapter of this horror for them, and he remembers the hopelessness of their story getting a bad ending that essentially pushed him into the Lonely; now he feels a different kind of an end approaching – he dares to be hopeful. Maybe everything works out in the end? Maybe, if they were safe and happy, it wouldn’t actually be the end of the world.
Martin looks down at his notebook and starts writing, sticking the tip of his tongue out in concentration.
What is a monster? Where is the line
That would separate us from the world
All I know is our paths align
And we together can battle the cold
You cut through the curtains of mist and See
The green glow fades when our eyes meet
My lips form a soft and quiet plea
To be loved has never felt so sweet
To be loved is a new feeling for me
I only know how to love from one side
But with you I hope we can once be free
Maybe ignore the whims of the tide
Although I know we're not nearly through
I taste and savour your voice, your breath
If only for a moment, we can start anew
And I will follow you even to death
As he stares at the last word of the finished poem, his hand with the pen hovering over it, he registers that his eyes have watered a bit. He blinks the tears away quickly as Jon sits down on the couch next to him, looking at him with a gentle worry. Martin looks up at the two mugs of tea he’d placed on the table.
“Did you make tea?” He asks with mock bewilderment, and Jon scoffs at him.
“I know how to make tea, Martin.” He nudges him with amusement, that gentle worry not quite gone from his eyes. “What are you writing about?”
Martin falls quiet, pressing the notebook to his chest in a knee-jerk reaction.
“Thought you didn’t like poetry,” he huffs out a laugh that’s only a little bit self-conscious. Jon shrugs, reaching out for his mug and taking a sip.
“I don’t understand it. And yes, I have been known to dislike it at times, but… Maybe I could be swayed to give it another shot.” Jon rolls his eyes fondly and looks at Martin out of the corner of his eye, a look that says ‘for you’. Martin grins, heat pricking at his cheeks once again.
“You see, i-it’s all about emotion.” He places the notebook gently on his lap face down and reaches for his own mug. “You w-want to put all of your emotions into words in a-an artistic way, that has a rhythm and, uh, and feels alive. And you want your, uh, your readers to feel that, that emotion through your words.”
Jon listens attentively and his eyes aren’t leaving Martin’s face; at one point Martin gets distracted by it and forgets where his explanation was going. Jon’s gaze has always been intense, in different ways throughout the time they’ve known each other. At first it was judgemental, the gaze of his boss, full of unmet expectations; then it was piercing, watchful and suspicious; as time passed, it seemed to gain more and more weight of the Beholding, something Tim always complained about. After Martin had joined Peter Lukas, the rare glances he got from Jon were full of yearning that Martin didn’t understand at the time; didn’t want to understand. Now, it’s that gentle fondness, interweaved with something intangibly sad and Martin feels an urge to hug him, to bring him close to his chest and never let go; to bury his face in Jon’s hair and protect him.
They move to place their mugs at the table at the same time and snort, amusement quickly turning into a fit of laughter. Jon throws his head back a little with it and Martin wonders if he has ever seen him laugh so openly before. He didn’t think it was possible for him to fall in love with the man even more, but once again, his heart proves him wrong. He stares at him with a lovestruck expression and thinks they should really talk about it. Martin doesn’t know where to start though and Jon seems to be thinking in a similar direction because his expression shifts into gentle seriousness.
“Martin, I…” He starts and bites his lip. “I need to apologize.”
Martin straightens a little; it’s not exactly what he expects.
“I—The way I used to treat you…” Pain and guilt flash through Jon’s face as he looks away for a moment to gather his thoughts. “It was not okay. None of it was okay. And I’m—I’m really sorry for that. It doesn’t—I know it doesn’t change anything that happened, but I” —he sighs. “I really am sorry. I hope I can, somehow, uh… somehow make it up to you.”
Martin reaches for Jon’s hand, and he looks down in surprise; Martin sees his eyes start glistening.
“I’m sorry for everything that happened to you.” He continues in a whisper and his eyes are locked on their touching hands. “I’m so sorry about the Lonely. I’m sorry that you’re trapped in all of this with me, and I would understand if you decided to leave—”
“Jon.” Martin squeezes his hand and Jon’s eyes shoot up to look at him.
“I’m sorry, that’s not an apology,” he sighs again. “I just… I’m sorry, Martin. About everything.” His other hand grips Martin’s. “I’m glad you are still here. I’m—I’m so glad, you d-don’t even know,” he laughs.
“I think I do.” Martin smiles gently. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve—I've forgiven you for a lot of it a long time ago. A-And the rest just isn’t your fault.”
Jon frowns.
“The Lonely was always there,” Martin shrugs. “Peter Lukas was just… a catalyst, I think. But now I have you.” His finger grazes the outside of Jon’s palm and his heart flutters in his chest when he sees that small smile appear on Jon’s face. “And you can’t be blamed for Elia—Jonah’s games. We’re all just… a bunch of people who didn’t know what was going on until it was too late.”
Jon’s eyes fall as he nods slightly.
“He’s still up to something,” he says quietly.
“Figures,” Martin laughs bitterly. “But we’re here now. And frankly, I don’t really want to think about him when we’re finally…” The word ‘together’ gets stuck in his throat, as if it would breach this fine line of ambiguity they’ve drawn between themselves. Jon seems to fill it in and his eyes land back on Martin.
He’s never wanted to kiss him more than he does right now. Jon's eyes are wide and glistening with something that looks suspiciously like hope, and his fingers gently graze the outside of Martin's palm. Warmth spreads in his chest and his eyes flutter a little, not breaking the eye contact. He wants to pull Jon close to his chest, to run his fingers through his hair and feel his breath on his own skin. To really feel like he's there, next to him, with him.
Before he can follow through with any of that, something sizzles in the kitchen, loud in the silence, startling them both.
“Food!” Jon chuckles slightly before he jumps to his feet and rushes to the kitchen, while Martin snorts and follows him. Jon stirs the pan with curry and sighs with relief when he sees it's not burned. He turns down the heat anyway and checks on the rice.
“Jon, this smells amazing,” Martin says, peeking into the pan with cheese and spinach. “I didn't know you could cook.”
“Well, contrary to the popular belief I was a functional human being. For a while,” Jon snorts and leans against the counter to look back at Martin. “It's Palak Paneer, my grandma taught me when I was a child.”
“It looks fantastic,” Martin grins, and Jon rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.
Even though the moment's lost, the remains of the feeling can be felt between them as they prepare the plates and take the food to the table. They easily fall back into usual chatter and, as soon as they’re finished, Martin jumps to wash the dishes. Jon relents after extensive affirmations from Martin that he's alright and he can definitely take care of a couple dishes in the sink, and he drops onto the couch with a content sigh instead.
Martin finishes up with the dishes and dries his hands on a towel.
“Do you want some tea?” He asks and hangs the towel back on the rack. When there's no response, he turns to the couch. “Jon?”
Something sinks in his stomach when he sees that the object that consumes Jon’s attention is the poem he’s finished; he scratches his neck, as his cheeks take on a pink tinge. “Oh…”
He walks up to the couch, unsure, trying to gauge Jon's reaction. His face seems tense, he squeezes the notebook in his hand so hard his knuckles go white, and his eyes are focused at one point on the page.
“Um... Jon?” Martin asks weakly, his heart drumming in his chest so loud he's sure both of them can hear it.
Jon jumps to his feet, startled, and looks up at him with eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights. Martin instinctively raises his hands in a placating gesture, as Jon registers his presence, looks down on the notebook in his hands, and quickly puts it on the table as if it stung him.
“Martin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look, it was just there and—”
“Hey, Jon, it’s alright!” It’s maybe a little not alright, since the poem is nothing short of a love confession and a wish Martin had no right to assume would ever be true, so Jon reading it is less than ideal. Martin rushes to gently place a hand on Jon’s shoulder but when he recoils from the touch, Martin withdraws his hand, cursing everything about himself.
“No, I, uh…” Jon runs his hand through his hair, eyes darting between Martin, his hand, and the notebook frantically. “I shouldn’t have— uh, it’s—it’s your private business, what you write about, so—”
Martin is sure he’s tomato red on the face by this point and hopes against hope that the afternoon light filtering through the curtains obscures it just a little. Jon, on the other hand, doesn’t have the embarrassed blush that usually darkens his cheeks; instead he breathes fast, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Martin sees him hunch just a little, making himself smaller.
“Um, yeah, I, uh—” He starts fidgeting with his fingers. Did the idea of—of love frighten Jon so much? He was stupid to leave it out in the open and now Jon knows, and it’s not how he feels, so he hates him… “I’m sorry.”
Jon’s eyes snap to him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“For what?”
Martin huffs out something like a pained laugh.
“Th-That’s not exactly how- how I wanted to tell you.” He wrings out his hands and shoots Jon a pleading look. What’s done is done and the only thing he can hope for is for Jon to let him down easy and never speak of this again.
“Tell me?” Jon looks down at the notebook again and there’s the worry again, stark on his face. He breathes out, slowly, and looks at the floor. “I don’t—I don’t even want to think this is a possibility…”
Martin doesn’t need to imagine what it would be like to be stabbed, if he wanted to - he’s pretty sure the acute pain of his heart shattering in his chest is close enough. His mind tries to catch up to the emotions, slow them down just a bit, because something seems off, and isn’t this a weird way to reject someone you must have known had a crush on you? But his throat tightens with the swell of pain and shame and Martin blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes.
Jon sighs and plops down on the couch, hiding his face in his hands and pushing his glasses up to his forehead.
“We d-don’t have to talk about it, if—if you don’t want to,” Martin says quietly. He sits down next to Jon, careful not to touch him in any way, and puts his hands between his knees.
Jon lets out a bitter laugh.
“Isn’t that what they—the Web would want? Just… mindlessly follow, go with the flow until something… irreversibly bad happens?”
Martin turns to Jon with a frown.
“Wh—What?”
Jon looks at him with something glistening in his eyes and Martin can see the lines of pain and misery written on his face like they belong there.
“The web,” he says faintly. “Strings of fate. I—” He lets out a breath. “Was I just being manipulated this whole time? Was I ever really—Did I ever have a choice?”
“Jon... what are you talking about?”
“You—You said I was...” He reaches for the notebook and points at a verse with his finger. “’Made your choice unaware you were led by strings of web against your heart.’ How—W-Why did you say this?”
Martin stares into Jon's green eyes with concern, yet parts of his heart start to weave themselves back together. However confused and worried Jon seems to be, none of it is directed at Martin; he looks at him with desperation, almost pleading, and he realizes they’ve been having two different conversations at the same time.
“Oh-Oh, God, Jon, I-I didn't mean—I just, it's a-a metaphor, just that, you know,” he takes a breath. “It does remind me of a web, the-the way we got caught up in Elias' plans.” He looks down, his cheeks burning as he remembers why Jon would get caught at this specific phrase. “I'm sorry for, uh, using that, it was just the first thing that came to my mind and—”
Jon exhales next to him and Martin risks a look up. The uneasiness isn't gone from his face but he relaxes just a little bit, enough to stabilize his breathing.
“I'm sorry for this… this whole thing, Martin.” He gestures at nothing in particular and it's his turn to look at the floor, as if it's all of a sudden the most interesting thing he's ever seen. He starts fidgeting with the notebook. “I'm just—What if it’s true?” His voice goes higher at the question and he closes his eyes. Martin squeezes his arm. “What if I am just... Just a puppet? An inhuman, helpless puppet in the hands of—Of some spider pulling the strings?”
A tear rolls down Jon's cheek and Martin grabs one of his hands. It’s small and still shakes a little; he tries to put all the protectiveness he feels into this small gesture. Jon doesn’t recoil this time, instead taking a moment to watch Martin’s hand clasp around his.
“Jon,” Martin starts softly. “You're still you. You're not some—Some spider puppet that can't make choices.”
“But what if—”
“You've made a choice to go into the Lonely for me.” Martin bumps their knees together lightly and Jon looks up at him. “I don't suspect any webs would need me alive to push you into it. It was You.”
Jon looks him in the eyes and Martin barely stops himself from reaching up to his face to wipe away his tears.
“Or it just makes us think that we have a choice but are ultimately helpless against fate and everything we do is determined by intricately crafted circumstances,” Jon whispers. “Maybe free will is a lie.”
Martin blinks.
“Jon...”
“Maybe I was never able to stop it. Any of it.” Jon’s voice grows more horrified and even though his eyes are directed at Martin's face, he seems to be looking somewhere past him. “Maybe nothing we try to do really matters.”
“Jon.” Martin’s voice gains a bit of force, even though he feels all but sure. “What do you see?”
Jon frowns. “What?”
“Look at me and tell me what you see?” The force is gone; the sentence sounds more like a feeble suggestion than a request, but Jon's eyes refocus on Martin's in a frown of confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“We're here now,” Martin says quietly. “And yeah, maybe our decisions are all predetermined or whatever. I still think it matters that we try. I think our experience matters. And you're not a-a monster without free will, Jon. You care about people, and you’ve sacrificed a lot for other people. You've made your own choices and, no matter if they were good or bad, they were still yours. And I think that matters.”
Jon blinks at him for a moment, then his shoulders slump with a sigh and he interlaces their fingers. Martin doesn’t miss it and he feels warmth in his chest.
“I've always been afraid of—of my will not being my own anymore,” he confesses quietly. “Of, uh... of not knowing the difference.”
“I get it,” Martin nods. “If it’s any consolation, I see a lot of Jon in you still.” Jon looks up at him with surprise and Martin gives him a half smile. “I see a very changed Jon but it's still Jon.” He strokes Jon's palm as his heart picks up the pace. “The same Jon I've first fallen in love with.”
Jon exhales softly, his face caught in a soft surprise, and Martin smiles around the dull ache in his chest.
“You don't have to say anything. I'm sure you've known for a while, but I just... I wanted to say it.”
With every second that passes in silence, however, Martin's cheeks grow hotter, and he concludes that this might have been a mistake.
“I-I'm sorry. M-Maybe I shouldn't have said that, I… I don't want things to get weird or anything, so, uh, we can, we can just forget—”
“Martin.” Jon says his name in a soft and kind of inquisitive way that makes his heart bounce around and transforms the ache in his chest into swirling butterflies again. Martin looks up and Jon’s head is tilted to the side, his face still wet with tears, but he notices something hopeful glitter in his eyes. “I love you too.”
Martin frowns, suddenly wondering if he isn't dreaming. Is Jon really saying what he thinks he is? Did he hear correctly? Maybe he misheard—
“I have for a while,” Jon's voice is still quiet and soft. “I didn't want to say anything because I thought it was too early after the Lonely and you might not feel this way anymore, but...”
Martin swallows, acutely aware of how loud his heartbeat is. He squeezes Jon’s hand and smiles slightly.
“I... I didn't know,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to cooperate.
“As soon as I woke up from the coma, I wanted to tell you,” Jon says. “I thought I was too late; that it took me too long to stop denying the feelings I had because I didn’t know how to deal with them, and I'd missed my chance.” He laughs bitterly.
“So that’s what it was about,” Martin whispers, as Jon's actions towards him throughout his time as Peter Lukas’ assistant start falling into place. Jon looks at him with a frown, so he adds, “The ‘let's gouge out our eyes and escape'.”
Jon scrunches up his nose and clears his throat.
“Yes, well. Yeah.”
Martin chuckles quietly.
“I don't think I would have lasted in the Lonely if I understood then. But then again. It didn't really matter in the end. It didn't help.”
“But it was your choice,” Jon echoes Martin's words from before and their eyes meet again.
“Yeah. It was my choice.”
They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, losing track of time, before Jon smiles slightly and looks back at the notebook.
“I really am sorry for not asking your permission, though,” he says. “I got so caught up in the metaphor I didn’t even finish it.”
Martin blinks, the warmth from his chest spreading to his cheeks again.
“D-Do you want to?”
Jon smiles softly, this new smile that Martin has only seen in the past couple of days, always directed at him.
“If you’d let me.”
Martin needs to look away, unable to handle the affection in Jon’s eyes. He mumbles an ‘okay’ with a smile that’s not entirely under his control and gets up.
“But I am making that tea whether you want it or not, waiting for someone to finish reading something is a torture.”
He hears Jon laugh as he heads back to the kitchen.
When he comes back with two steaming mugs, Jon is waiting for him with a smile and his nervousness dissipates with his next words.
“I like it,” Jon says. “Apart from the, uh, web metaphor, obviously. It's hopeful.”
“Y-You do?”
Martin swallows; the pleasant tingling in his stomach is back. He places their mugs on the table and reaches out to join their hands again. Jon intertwines their fingers immediately and caresses the outside of Martin’s palm with his thumb.
Jon looks down at the verses again and smiles softly, almost sheepishly, a familiar blush darkening his cheeks.
“I—I don't know if there would be anything for us outside of. You know. The fears and all that,” he grimaces. “At least, for me. But, uh…” He looks at Martin again with a hopeful expression that makes Martin melt a little, and he gently caresses Martin's cheek with his free hand. “I really like the thought of it.”
Martin's brain might be short-circuiting at this moment and all of his thoughts take form of fuzzy static.
“Me too,” he says, suddenly breathless. Jon's hand rests cupping his cheek and, are they a bit closer than they were a second ago? Jon's gaze slides down Martin's face to his lips and he feels he might faint right there and then. He doesn't, instead gathering up his courage to take a breath.
“Can I kiss you?” Jon asks first and Martin feels his lips form a grin.
“Please,” he breathes out; the next second their lips meet, soft but urgent, desperate and sick of waiting. Martin's hand dives into Jon's soft hair, fingers scraping the delicate skin of his head and earning him a low sound from Jon's throat. They pull each other closer and find a rhythm to lose themselves in for just a moment; the sensation of Jon's tongue swirling in his mouth, of his slender fingers on his cheek and his neck, the pressure of his body against his chest; all of it making Martin dizzy with happiness.
Martin pulls away when his lungs painfully remind him breathing is still a necessity and he opens his eyes to look at Jon – His soft lips, his nose, his pockmark scars, and his eyes, green yet with no trace of Beholding in them. He takes him in whole, with all of his flaws and all of his virtues, and he feels seen in return, seen by the man he loves and who loves him. The weight of it all hits Martin like a crashing wave and he pulls Jon in for a tight embrace.
“I love you,” he whispers against his shoulder, and he feels Jon's arms tightening around his torso.
“I love you too, Martin.”
61 notes · View notes
enamoured-x · 4 years ago
Text
Long Enough
Luke Alvez x Reader
Summary: You and Luke share an intimate moment. 
Word count: 2.8k
a/n: my first Luke fic bc I miss criminal minds and my rewatch had me missing him like crazy. Enjoy! 
Tumblr media
*Not my gif
As a member of the BAU for five years, you Penelope, JJ, Tara and Emily had grown extremely close over the years. Always having girls night whenever you could squeeze in time between cases. Currently though, girls night had turned into a team night when Rossi overheard you all talking about going to the bar. He of course invited himself which in turn led to him pressuring Spencer to join and then telling Luke to tag along as well. Matt had his kids to go home to so he decided on a rain check but suddenly, your girls night was nonexistent. You weren’t actually upset about it, although you did love talking to the girls about things you didn’t feel comfortable talking about in front of the guys. What you were concerned about was the fact that Luke was coming. He joined the BAU two years ago and somehow you had developed a small crush on the former ranger. He was incredibly sweet and always knew how to make you smile. But you two were closer to best friends than being anything more. You hung out with him all the time, going for runs with him and Roxy in the mornings occasionally or having dinner at his place or yours. Honestly, you two were glued to the hip. Even though you spent days together while working on cases you would both still make plans to hang out. Even crashing at each other’s place for no other reason than not wanting the night to end but not wanting to go home around two in the morning. All of this being the reason why you didn’t want him to know about your feelings for him. You two had something good going and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin it. Some days you thought he already knew with the way you two flirted. But it was all in good fun, it never meant anything, at least not to him. 
Which was why you still wished it stayed a girl’s night. Your girls knew all about your predicament, not from your mouth though, apparently you weren’t as sneaky as you thought you were being. They caught on real quick which then began the constant conversations about Luke and what you should do. The girls were all for you telling him, they even had it in their heads that he felt the same but you didn't know if you were willing to take that risk. Willing to risk your friendship and your comfortable work environment. 
You had arrived at the bar with Tara, both of you living within a few minutes of each other made it so you two would car pool a lot. Surprisingly the team was already there, gathered around a standing table. 
“They you guys are!” Penelope shouted as you two walked over to the table. Your eyes met Luke and you couldn’t help but smile as he flashed you that big grin of his. Pulling you into him as you got to the table, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 
“You look great.” He said into your ear, the rest of the team continuing their conversation. 
“Thank you, I guess you look alright too.” He barked out a laugh. He didn’t just look alright, he looked delicious. He was wearing an off-white button up with his dark blue jeans and black boots. It was what he usually wore except the soft colored shirt really brought out his tan skin. 
“Whatever, I know I look good.” He said and then grabbed a glass on the table and handed it to you, “old fashioned for you.” Your heart warmed at the gesture. You don’t know why you were all that surprised, Luke ordered for you all the time. 
“Thank you.” You caught JJ smirking at you and you quickly took a sip of your drink to calm your nerves. You’ve hunted down serial killers but the second your feelings come into question you get scared, unbelievable. 
You all slipped into conversation around the table as the night went on. 
“Tell them what really happened!” Emily urged you to tell your part of the story of when you decided to go visit her in London. It involved a night out with a rowdy Emily at some bar.
“Emily took it upon herself to start speaking in a British accent after a few drinks.” Emily groaned thinking you were going to defend her actions as you giggled. The table laughed. Luke kept a hand on your waist throughout your whole retelling and when you were about to excuse yourself to get another drink he offered to do it for you.
“I got it.” He said but before he could leave everyone else placed their drink order with him for another round. He groaned and you laughed.
“I’ll go with you.” You said and followed him to the bar. Not before sparing a glance behind you, the whole team eyeing you both and your face flushed as even Spencer and Rossi gave you knowing looks. Jesus, if they knew then Luke had to know. Although Penelope was quick to tell you in the past that Luke might be a profiler but he was still a man therefore he was more than likely clueless about your feelings for him. You held onto that notion as you two came up to the bar. Luke tried to get the bartender’s attention but he was talking to some other people at the other end of the bar. He turned to you, “hold on.” He said before walking his way over to the man. You stayed where you were and before you could look back to see if the team was still watching you, a man took the place right next to you, leaning against the bar as he faced you. 
“Hey gorgeous, can I buy you a drink?” He asked, usually you’d admire his dirty blonde hair and his dimples but the only thing on your mind lately was curly brown hair and the most beautiful brown eyes you’d ever seen. You had it bad.
“I’m good. Thanks though.” You said, looking over to where Luke was, finally having got the bartender’s attention. 
“Oh come on, just one drink. I just thought you looked really nice in those jeans–” His hand skimmed your thigh and you slapped it away, shocked by the action. 
“Do not fucking touch me.” Before you could say anything else, Luke put himself between you and the creep. 
“Back the fuck off right now.” Luke told the man. He didn’t look all that bothered as he stood up straight and laughed at Luke. You moved yourself to stand at his side and spared a glance at him. His face tilted up to look down on the man and the harsh glare in his eyes was evidence enough that he was pissed off. 
“Chill out, man. Just wanted to have some fun with the pretty lady.” He took his eyes off Luke to look over at you, his gaze made your skin crawl and as if Luke could sense that, he stepped in front of you again and tilted his head to meet the guys eyes again. You were used to creeps who wouldn’t take no for an answer, you were used to having to tell them off and you were obviously more than capable of handling yourself, but something about the way Luke had no problem coming to your defense had you feeling grateful. Maybe even a little refreshing, it was tiring dealing with these kind of men but Luke had no problem with that job. 
“She said no, get lost.” Luke demanded. His shoulders were tense and you knew this guy was getting on his nerves for the sole reason that he couldn’t just take no for an answer, he just had to play this game. You grabbed Luke’s arm as you saw the bartender place your drink order in front you both, trying to just get him to ignore the stranger. 
“Think I could change her mind.” The guy shrugged and tried to look around him. You pulled at Luke’s arm as he tried to get in the strangers face, “are you fucking serious right now?” 
“Okay, let’s calm down.” Rossi’s voice broke the two men’s stare down as he walked up to you three. 
“Who the hell are you?” The guy asked. Rossi pulled out his credentials.
“Get lost.” Rossi told him and the douche scurried away as soon as he saw the ID. 
“Let’s try not to start a fight on our night off.” Rossi teased as he grabbed the tray of drinks and walked back over to the table. They were all watching you two and you groaned. 
“You good?” Luke asked, ignoring the team’s watchful eyes. 
“Yeah, you know I don’t need saving, Alvez. I thought you figured that out the other day when I pinned you to the mat at the gym.” You teased him, wanting him to calm down. You knew Luke to be fiercely loyal and extremely protective so him wanting to come to your defense was simply because of that protective nature in him. You admired it. 
“Oh how could I forget you on top of me?” He smirked and you hit his arm playfully. 
“Shut up, Alvez. Let’s get back to the table.” He laughed as you two made your way back. 
“Well, well, well, if you weren’t our girls night and shining armor. Although she doesn’t need one because she can be a badass all on her own and she does not need a man to save her and she clearly could have handled it all on her own.” Penelope smirked at you two and you shook your head as she rambled. 
“She does not but doesn’t mean I won’t still try and protect her.” Oh god, your face burned as the others smiled at his sweet words. Emily and Tara shared a knowing look with you. Maybe he did share your feelings after all… 
“Anyways,” you said, trying to get the conversation off you two. Eventually they let up and you all slipped into conversation again. Luke kept his arm around your waist and the drinks in your system had you feeling bold enough to place your hand over his where it was resting on your hip. He looked down at you with the action and smiled before placing a kiss to your forehead and then casually kept his conversation with Spencer going. Your heart pounded at the gesture. It was all so intimate, the hand on the waist, his side pressed to yours, the kiss. You were sure to anyone looking over that you two looked like a couple, because friends definitely didn't act like this. JJ was to your right and smiled at you two. 
“I think we were right.” She whispered to you and you rolled your eyes. 
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You warned her. She shrugged but she still held a small smile. 
Eventually everyone started leaving one by one, even Tara who decided to hitch a ride with JJ seeing as you weren’t ready to leave yet. Eventually it was just you and Luke. As always. 
You were eyeing a group of people who had just walked in and overheard them talking about the club next door. 
“What are you thinking about?” Luke asked as he finished his beer. 
“I’m thinking we should check out the place next door, I feel like dancing.” You shrugged and his brows raised. 
“Well, let’s go.” He ushered you out having closed the tab right after you two got your last drinks. You were not all that surprised at his eagerness, Luke was always down for anything.  He grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers with his. You couldn’t contain your giggles as you two made your way inside the dark night club, such a drastic change from the laid back bar you were just at. 
“Come on.” He said, dragging you to the bar and getting you two more drinks. The crowded and loud atmosphere meant you and Luke were glued together as you both drank and exchanged words. You were practically hugging him at this point with how close you two were but he didn’t seem to mind as his whole arm wrapped around your waist. You definitely weren’t complaining. You two quickly finished your drinks, the cups being filled with mostly ice. 
“Come on, you said you wanted to dance.” He pulled you to the dance floor and you two immediately started singing along to the song as he grabbed your hands and danced with you. His smile never left his face and your heart warmed at seeing it. It was one of his most redeeming qualities. A smile that could put you in a good mood no matter what, a smile that could also become something darker with a bit more curl to his lips. You two grabbed onto each other with each song that passed and before you knew what you were doing, you turned around in his hold. You didn’t have to worry about how he would feel with you pressed against him because he eagerly assumed back control and grabbed onto your hips and pressed his body into yours. Your senses were on fire, the feel of all of him pressed against your back, his warm breath at the shell of your ear, it was all consuming, even the music and crowd of people couldn’t pull you away from this moment. 
“Is this okay?” He breathed in your ear, just loud enough for you to make out. You tilted your head to the side and he placed a kiss on your neck. Your breath hitched. 
“More than okay.” Is all you said before you two started moving again. Luke’s body pressed fully against your back had your heart beating like crazy. You were sure you’d be more shy if you didn’t have a few drinks in you already but the alcohol was doing wonders for you. 
You grinded against Luke as your hips rolled together, his hands digging tighter into your waist. You smiled and felt even more emboldened, so you slipped your hand behind you and grabbed onto the back of his neck while holding onto his arm with your other hand. He nuzzled his face into your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his facial hair tickled your skin. Never had you two been this close before, you wanted to blame the alcohol but you and Luke didn’t have more than a few drinks each. No, this was happening of your own volition. And he was participating fully as well. 
Luke pressed his cheek against yours, allowing you to feel his stubble against your skin. You turned your head to meet his eyes and you felt a rush go through your body at how close you two were, noses touching now. You two had stopped moving, now too caught up in the moment you two seemed to be frozen in. His breath fanned your lips and his cologne invaded your senses, making your head cloudy with everything that was Luke Alvez. 
“Just kiss me already, Alvez.” You said, tired of the waiting, tired of pinning after your best friend when it had been made clear tonight your feelings were definitely not one sided. He smiled and next thing you knew his lips were pressed against yours. The ache for him settled within you as his lips moved against yours, as his tongue found its way in your mouth. You moaned into his as you felt everything else in the room fade away, just you two and a kiss that was going to change everything. 
You finally pulled away to breathe. Luke nudged your nose with his causing you to smile. 
“Been wanting to do that for a while now.” He said, he then motioned towards the door and he wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you out. Once outside, the cold air nipped at your skin and you reveled in it. The crowded club was not the only thing that had your skin on fire, Luke’s hands and his gaze was doing that just fine. 
“A while, huh?” You smirked and pulled him against the brick wall, your back now pressed to it, the cold stone calming you done from the heated kiss you just shared. 
“Since I met you.” He placed one hand on your hip and one against the brick right by your head. His smile was making you flush as it was directed solely at you, and those eyes… a mischievous glint in them. 
“Took you long enough.” You said, placing your hands at his neck, “now maybe we should make up for lost time…” You trailed off as he raised a brow and smirked as you pulled him to you. 
“We should probably get started,” he said against your lips as you two kissed through your smiles, “two years is a long time.” He added, making you giggle into the kiss. 
“Then take me home, Alvez.” With those words, he was pulling you to his car. 
Luke was definitely worth the wait. 
182 notes · View notes
gallavictorious · 3 years ago
Note
Your tags on my thumb caress retrospective breaking my heart with their truth and their beauty 💔💔💔 you're so right.
Aaaaaah, I'm delighted that you'd find wisdom in my random ramblings. XD This is one of relatively few things I do have a firm headcanon about!
For context, Ryt is referencing my tags on this glorious gif set, written in response to her own gorgerous musings on the very same post:
when did he start touching ian with soft hands? when was the first thumb caress? was it the sleepover? finally alone with no fear of being interrupted and no way to deny what he's feeling after he went and gave in to kissing him did he reach across the sofa while steven seagal was dropping some henchman to the ground and rest his hand on ian's shoulder thumb moving back and forth across the ball of his shoulder joint until ian looks at him move up to touch the back of his neck his jaw like he's never really allowed himself to do before softly and with intent or was it at his wedding? kissing and stripping so fast and so frantically but still having to pause for a moment just to get his hands on ian's face to touch his thumbs to ian's cheeks to look him in the eyes and try to convey to him everything this means to him and why he has to get married and that he loves ian more than he loves himself or was it after he finds ian and drags him home from the club sitting in his marital bedroom staring at the love of his life passed out on his bed regretting every time he ever touched him in anger or fear resolving that from now on any moment he gets to touch ian he will do it with softness that ian will know with every contact that he is precious to mickey that mickey wants to keep him to keep him safe to love him with his heart and his eyes and his hands his hands are so gentle with ian always and i just wonder where it starts
Now, I know for a fact that I've tag ranted about this before, but consistent tagging is sadly and brutally obviously Not My Thing, so I can't find the damned post. But yeah, I firmly believe that the first time Mickey touched Ian with, as you so beautifully put it, ”soft hands” – and did it knowing fully well what he was doing and without pretending he didn't – was on the morning after coming out at the Alibi. Just... him reaching out like that to stroke Ian's hair, like reaching for something he's only now starting to think he might be allowed to have; exploring not just the feeling of Ian's hair under his palm but the feeling of being someone who could touch like that, who could admit to wanting it. Even if it's just admitting it to himself at that point – Ian's still asleep, and I think that's necessary for Mickey to dare that first, tentative touch. This is still new to him, and though he's committed to Ian and his feelings for Ian – has been, since he went to find Ian at that club – there's a lot of baggage and unlearning yet to do.
Just seems a natural evolution to me, you know? First, there is the brief brush of fingers as they trade cigarettes back and forth (kisses by proxy, I've seen it described as, that passing of smokes and putting your lips where the other's have just been). Sometimes, Ian will place his hand over Mickey's as they fuck and Mickey will let him because he can pretend it's just part of fucking, just sex and bodies and lust. For a while that's all there is but then Ian's had enough of the feigned distances and he pushes; pushes and Mickey folds as he almost always eventually does when it's Ian who does the pushing (though folds with one finger raised, because this is still Mickey and maybe he's been dying to kiss Ian for a while now but that doesn't make him a bitch and fuck Ian for implying he's a coward). And having taken that step – made that admission, unspoken as it is – he dares the next, inviting Ian over to his place and we know they had their second and third and twentieth kiss that night. (The first date vibes of that sleepover are insane and I love it so much; they've been fucking for years but those little glances, like they're nervous and giddy and expectant and wondering ooooh are we gonna kiss? It drives me crazy, in the best way.)
And then it's all over, for a bit. There's that desperate kiss on the cusp of Mickey's wedding – and the way they fall into that, the way they surge for one another, is what has me convinced that there was so much kissing during the ill-fated date of 3x06; they discovered the joy of it then and it immediately became an intrinsic part of what they were with each other – and then Mickey is a husband (but not Ian's husband) and Ian is leaving and for a while there's only memories, both feared and revered.
When Ian comes back – when Mickey brings him back – they fall back into each other so easily, the way the always have and always will, but there's still tension and uncertainty. Mickey knows what he wants but not how to have it; Ian wants Mickey but not on those terms. The power balance is shifting and neither of them really knows what they're doing or where they're going and as much fun as they have and as happy as they are to be back together and as much as they sneak sex and kisses whenever they think they can pretend no one notices, I think they're both... hovering a bit. Waiting, for things to clear between them and the nature of their relationship to settle; neither quite willing to directly address the mounting strain for fear it'll tear them apart again. Not the right mood or time for soft touches, I think; neither of them are sure enough of what they are to each other do that. (I am insanely fascinated by their dynamic in 4x08 through 4x11. God, the complexity of it... I drink it like fine wine.)
But then, Ian pushes once more and Mickey makes his choice and there's the truth of it now, their feelings and committment and relationship. And not just to the world, but to them too. After that – after having riske his life and bled for it and removed himself from any opportunity of ever taking it back to hide once more – I feel that Mickey would finally let himself have this. What's the point now in pretending he doesn't want it? And he's earned it, goddammit, so fuck everything; thisis what he came out for: not just sex with Ian, but lovingIan.
Mickey wants it all, now, and starting here, he'll have it.
36 notes · View notes
my-sherlock221b · 3 years ago
Text
Supernatural Rewatch Ramblings: Bloodlust
2020-21 has been a huge transformative time for many of us. Whether we wanted it or not, we have been forced to stop, switch gears, rethink, reflect, let go, make new priorities, discover who we really are and who we want to be in the face of adversity.
One of those transformations for me has been giving up on control and finding a way to surrender to the power of the universe. Another has been to not let perfection be the enemy of good.
You may well wonder---What does all this have to do with the Bloodlust rewatch and review??!
Probably nothing LOL except for the fact that I still have to write up my review on Bloody Mary and have been unable to write for various reasons. And then because the Bloody Mary review was still incomplete I could not write about the next one etc etc etc.
So when we watched Bloodlust two days ago in the continuing re-watch, I decided that I am going to re-start the review, and from exactly where I am right now!
If time and life permits I might fill in the gaps later. If not, well, life is unpredictable and weird and we keep calm as it carries on….Thank you for coming to my Philosophy talk….:)
Read below for the Boodlust  review, Season 2 episode 3 and look out for the post from @soulmates-for-real​ on this rewatch too!! 
Tumblr media
The opening scene is the perfect switch and bait because we as an audience have been trained to latch on to types and identities and representations.
Woman in white night gown screaming and running--victim
Person who brutally beheads her—villain.
A few minutes into the episode we realize that we were wrong.
A good few minutes later we realize that we were wrong about being wrong.]
Haha.
We are idjits, swept away on the eddies and currents of this masterfully written and directed episode. Thank you Sera Gamble and Robert Singer!
The acting and the mesmerizing beauty of the two leads is worthy of an entire essay of its own but in order to have a life and finish this review I shall only say this—Oh my goodness HOW gorgeous is Jensen Ackles?!!
Tumblr media
It is sometimes impossible to look at him in this episode because my eyes didn’t know where to land! That perfect face? The lips? Those eyes?? The quirk of the eyebrows? Those micro expressions that are constantly weaving across his face? The smile? The way his lips move when he talks?? His hair? The Samulet?
And then the shot pans out and includes his hand and the ring and honestly it’s a miracle I could follow the plot at all.
So the images I am going to include in this review, much as I love Sam Winchester and Jared Padalecki, are all of Dean Winchester. It’s a criminal waste to not do so when the man is just an ode to perfection.
*
Sheila O’Malley’s review of this episode is in itself a work of art and a thing of beauty so I will direct you most enthusiastically towards it and only add here my little pennyworth bits. Do click on this link but be prepared to sink into a one hour read which will make you feel like you were dropped into the episode itself.
https://www.sheilaomalley.com/?p=87187
Here is a quote from her review which is so insightful.
These are the details that a director like Robert Singer never misses, and at this point his relationship with Ackles and Padalecki would be almost telepathic (it’s probably 100% telepathic now). He has said before that he and Kripke were such a good team because Kripke’s primary concern is Plot/Gore/Horror and Singer’s primary concern is Character/Relationship. And they both end up in the same place. It’s a good mix. If Singer were also Plot/Gore/Horror focused, we wouldn’t have the depth of relationship which is the real point of the show, its real hook.
*
For a much briefer and far less technically adept and analytical review, read on here!
*
The opening of this episode shows us the Impala from every possible angle. Gleaming, gorgeous, road -worthy. This is mirrored by Dean. He is also gleaming, gorgeous and roadworthy. He is in a happy mood that not even Sam’s little brother snitty comments can deflate.
Tumblr media
Here is the soundtrack of this episode for those who are interested.
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0835248/soundtrack
Here is some random but fun trivia:
Dean tells Sam in one scene "If it's     Supernatural, we kill it." One of the rare times the title of the     show is actually spoken in the dialogue.
This is the first episode where Sam began parting his     hair down the middle, the hairstyle he'd keep the rest of the series.
( I didn’t like his hair too much in this episode honestly but then again I could barely see anyone beyond Dean :D)
During the filming of this episode Jared injured his     hand when he fell badly during a stunt. He thought it was merely sprained     and went straight into filming the next episode without having it checked.     But it got more and more painful and finally he went to the doctor and     discovered that his hand was, in fact, broken. Because he had already     begun filming, he couldn't bandage the hand until filming for that episode     was finished. The writers ended up writing in an accident for Sam and his     line "I think she broke my hand" to explain the fact that for     the following few episodes he would be wearing a cast.
When Dean kills a vampire, blood is sprayed on his     face, mostly on his right cheek. In the next shot the pattern is     different, and notably the right cheek is almost clean. Furthermore, his     mouth was agape when he made the kill, risking the blood getting into his     mouth and turning him into a vampire. While the brothers didn't yet know     how a vampire is made at that point, Gordon did and should have been     alarmed that Dean might have gotten some of the blood in his mouth.
*
A random behind the scene shot from the episode:
Tumblr media
Guess who she is? Apparently this is Jensen’s sister in a super brief role in Bloodlust!
On to the review, or rather some of my thoughts during the re-watch.
The first scene with the Sheriff they are interrogating him about the cattle mutilations is hilarious. The way they bluff their way into the morgue is hilarious. Dean always leading and Sam following.
Tumblr media
Random trivia: When Dean enters the morgue with Sam and sees the name tag of "J Manners", it has been thought the name was to honor Jeffrey Dean Morgan and series producer Kim Manners. Dean guesses "John" - Jeffrey's character name - and the intern corrects with "Jeff"
Tumblr media
*
It a testament to the way Supernatural has trained its audience that we barely blink when they pull out a decapitated head in the morgue, squabble over who is more chicken, dig into the mouth and eventually discover vampire fangs.
Tumblr media
Yes, of course they do.
*
Next scene: Two hot guys walk into a bar…..
…….where the adorable Benny, who is not Benny in this episode but a random dude ( spoilers—later we find out the dude is a vampire), gives them directions/ mis- directions to a possible vampire nest.
Tumblr media
We see the first glimpse of Gordon Walker, amazingly played by Sterling K. Brown, and making us worry about and dislike him almost right away. The way he is shown with the light and shade bars on his face from the window blinds is so menacing.
Tumblr media
The next few scenes continue to build that sense of unease where the Winchester brothers, apparently telepathically, decide to double back and catch him following them, then he shows them his car and his weapons, where he references their dad and then refuses their offer for help.
The scene where he shows them his car is like a painting. (The car by the way is just as inconspicuous as the Impala –which is to say NOT AT ALL!! How do these people stay below the radar of the regular law enforcement is a mystery….).
The dust highlighting the rays of light, the two brothers on one side of the car and Gordon at the other, it’s all so consciously set up for a few seconds worth of screen time. Impressive!
Tumblr media
Next comes a truly brutal kill, at Dean’s hands, which we don’t even see except as a spray of blood on his face. Poetic! But it is Dean’s expression that makes my stomach clench. His eyes are dead and he is somewhere deep that even Sam can’t reach, as we can see from the distress on Sam’s face.
Gordon of course is all chipper and full of bonhomie and offers to buy them drinks.
That following scene is the one which gives Wincest brother-wives vibes like 100%.
*
Sam plays the role of the disgruntled ‘wife’ to perfection. No one but hubby is allowed to use the nickname. He hates the male bonding going on with Gordon and the more Gordon seems to slip into Dean’s inner circle, the more uncomfortable Sam gets, until he finally decides that he just cannot physically be there any more.
Dean’s smug expression when Sam tells Gordon off for calling him Sammy, his instant worry at Sam going back alone, his hand raised in exasperation to convey to Gordon—look what I have to put up with-- the tossing of the keys to his car----it is all a symphony of Dean playing his part in the brother-wives orchestra.
Tumblr media
The last line?! ‘Remind me to beat the buzzkill out of you later.’ And Sam’s expression at that? That’s exactly the way a bullying /abusive husband would react to a nagging wife who doesn’t like his toxic friends and wonders how he can be so blind as to not see them for the bad influence they clearly are.
( Bad Dean!!!)
Tumblr media
Sam goes back to the motel and does his due diligence by checking with Ellen, gets kidnapped by vampires, released and on his return is disgusted to find Gordon inside their motel room.
*
The next scene is where Dean erupts, having clearly had enough of the shifting power dynamics between them over the evening. Sam has been silently judging him since the kill and Gordon has managed to ‘other’ Sam and make Dean feel validated in his own bloodlust as a hunter.
Dean clocks Sam one.
Wow. I did not see that coming. And what shocked me at this re- watch is that Sam just takes it.
Like an abused wife, he just takes it. Not only that, sometime later in the episode he tells Dean to hit him again if it is going to make him feel better.
NO Sam! NO!!! This is NOT healthy and this is NOT the way to deal….ugh. Sigh.
*
Then the second half of the episode swings in and the moral dilemma they face becomes clear when the victim and villain switch roles and Dean is shook enough to question his dad’s judgement!
Dean is still kind of trying to give Gordon the benefit of the doubt even though he sees him literally torturing the vampire. But of course all bets are off the instant he touches Sam. Dean pulls his gun on him. I was surprised that he didn’t shoot him just on principle later simply because he hurt Sam even if it was a small cut.
Tumblr media
That is Dean’s definition of monsters-- Anything that hurts Sam. 😊
*
We don’t know it at this time, and spoilers ahead, but maybe Dean has been so annoyed and violent with Sam at the idea that he is standing up for MONSTERS is because he might also be one….and the way he looks at the end when he realizes that his whole life’s philosophy has been upended.
There are the details about the vampires who drink cattle blood so they don’t harm humans and therefore want to be treated as the good guys. Of course it is all about the inherent struggle between who you are and what you do—something that shows up hugely magnified in the later seasons when Sam is struggling with his own demon blood addiction and the knowledge of the demon blood inside him.
He needs desperately to believe in this as the utmost foundation stone of his life and its purpose—what you DO is more important than what you ARE!
So even if you are a monster, if you don’t behave like one—that is your redemption.
But it’s not just anybody whose faith he wants in his struggle to prove to himself that he is not a monster. He needs it from Dean.
Tumblr media
Remember the dialogue from the panic room “Don’t you say that to me. Don’t YOU say that to me.”
And the fake voicemail set up by Zachariah exploits this at the time of the breaking of the last seal.
*
Of course he doesn’t know any of this yet, but that’s Sam fucking Winchester for you –always purer and better than his circumstances allow. Always struggling to do better, be better.😍
*
It is fascinating how the visuals and the roles these two play are of rugged handsome men, badass heroes-- Dean of course super macho role playing all the time. But there are so many layers upon layers and honestly if it wasn’t for Jared and Jensen’s fine nuanced and impeccable acting adding depth to the characters, the show would not have held our interest for this long.
We are shown Sam as the brains with his lore and research, but then in the very next episode (Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things), we see Dean connect dots faster than Sherlock Holmes.
Dean is shown as the instinctively violent one with the gun under his pillow, trigger happy, and in this episode even that brutal kill of the vampire on the docks. But then please remember the way Sam kills Gordon finally. Or the insane way he bites himself to get blood for drawing sigils. Or the way he just simply shoots the crossroads demon point blank!
We see Sam as the soft hearted one and he does rescue kids once in a while, but he is never shown to bond with them even a fraction of the way Dean does—so effortlessly. Also the ladies of course, all of whom have a soft spot for Dean. The exceptions being Sarah and Madison, both of whom completely ignored Dean. Oh and that doctor from Sex and Violence.
Dean has had his share of bad dates of course with Cassie, the woman who gave birth to his magical superfast growing daughter ( who was killed by Sam), and the whole Lisa arc, but somehow we are shown Sam as the one who is invested in relationships. Hello?! Sam was planning to marry Jessica without having told her a thing about his life while Dean told Cassie the secret as soon as he thought he was in love and wanted a relationship.
So anyway, just to say that a rewatch is so brilliant because we know more about them at this point than they do and the character arc is such a thing of beauty to see unfolding!
*
That last scene where Dean is in a thoughtful frame of mind, the sun is rising overhead ( as a metaphor for him seeing the light, maybe?)--that insanely gorgeous shot of Dean with the ring of fire and light and his absolutely perfect face in a close up…sigh.
Tumblr media
Then he thanks Sam for pushing him to see this grey area and for the first time in that episode Sam finally smiles.
His big brother is back with him.
Tumblr media
And then he commits to Dean too. Ah…how it warms my heart to hear this dialogue!
 DEAN I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up.
SAM What do you mean?
DEAN Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives.
SAM Okay.
DEAN What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us...
SAM Dean, after what happened to Mom, Dad did the best he could.
DEAN I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things; and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill I didn't even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it.
SAM You didn't kill Lenore.
DEAN No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all.
SAM Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters.
DEAN Yeah. Well, 'cause you're a pain in my ass.
SAM Guess I might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass, then.
DEAN Thanks.
SAM Don't mention it.
Transcript here http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=2.03_Bloodlust_%28transcript%29
 Guess Sam does stick around for the next 15 years to be a pain in the ass 😊
Tumblr media
Some quotes from the writers about this episode: 
·  "The episode was really about what Dean would become if he didn't watch out: that Gordon was Dean in ten years if Sam didn't ask the difficult questions and keep him from getting too militant." - Executive story editor Sera Gamble
· "We set out to create a monster episode where you weren't entirely sure whether these monsters should be killed." - Eric Kripke
· "For me, the show is at its best when the supernatural story reveals something new about the brothers, or forces them to change in some way. Sam and Dean's realization that they've basically been raised as 'monster racists' was really meaty stuff. Exploring these characters' flaws is just as important as showcasing their heroism - these are the things that make them human, that make us invest in them." - Raelle Tucker
Check out this site for more amazing trivia and stuff
http://www.jonescave.com/supernatural/Episode/Episode.php?s=2&e=3#PopCulture
I have already finished watching the next episode ‘Children’s Shouldn’t play with Dead Things’….so let’s hope I get around to writing a review sometime soon !
Tumblr media
14 notes · View notes
sitp-recs · 4 years ago
Text
I never expected to be tagged in this game but the lovely @the-starryknight was generous enough to mention my reclists and at the risk of sounding pretentious I will accept this kind invitation! Thank you for thinking of me 💜
I wanna tag each and every creator on this hellsite but I know some of you already did the thing (pls ignore if that’s the case!) so I’ll tag @bixgirl1, @lqtraintracks, @the-sinking-ship, @shealwaysreads, @prolix- @dracoladon, @cibeewastaken, @veelawings, @p1013, @lazywonderlvnd, @l0vegl0wsinthedark, @maesterchill, @slytherco, @drarrytrash, @quicksilvermaid, @fluxweeed, @magpiefngrl, @punk-rock-yuppie, @andithiel, @phd-mama, @xx-thedarklord-xx, @lettersbyelise, @teacup-tai, @tinyhistory, @writcraft, @ohdrarry and anyone else who’d like to do it! No pressure whatsoever, of course :)
Top 5 of 2020
Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!
1. 1k milestone celebration: I like this series because it was a statement. I’m really proud of myself for coming up with a mix of drabbles and self-indulgent recs on that week - not only I got to spread love for fics usually overlooked because of their length, I also established my blog as a safe space for all kinds of ships and kinks, which has always been my priority due to previous fandom experiences. Knowing that authors feel seen and appreciated for fics that aren’t mentioned often (if at all) is so rewarding. Hopefully this has inspired everyone else to adopt DL;DR and kinktomato in their fandom lives, as well as encouraged both authors and readers to indulge themselves more often 🙌🏼
2. Drarry for Beginners: I’ve always been a bit hesitant about making anything resembling an ultimate/must-read/classics reclist. I’ve been in the fandom for a long time but there’s so much I haven’t/won’t read and to me, reccing is still something extremely personal. I’d hate to think someone feels like they should read everything I put on my lists, because they limit the fandom and bend it to my personal tastes. It’s only a small portrait that doesn’t convey how big and diverse the Drarry universe is. That being said, I’ve received some generous and wonderful feedback about this project which makes me so very happy and relieved because I’ve worked really hard on it. I tried to put myself on a newcomer’s shoes at all times, and made sure to include different takes and styles - in fact, I selected some popular tropes then set some ground rules hoping to avoid the trap of only reccing my favorite stuff. I’m thrilled to know it’s actually helping people navigate this huge wonderful fandom, that’s all I could ask for 🙌🏼
3. Smutty reclist: another self-indulgent little thing I did recently. It was a bit insane to put all those lists together and publish two per day but I’ve had so much fun doing it! I’m quite proud of myself for accepting that I wouldn’t be able to write reviews for each fic, and understanding it would be okay, they would still be personal and special. I also like that I decided to make this something more “me” - I brushed BDSM aside and included fics with Blaise and the Weasleys because I’ve been into them lately - and the fact that people still enjoyed it was really nice :)
4. Old gems reclist: I loved this one because it was super fun to track all those old goodies down. I’m a nostalgic hoe in general and this list made me look back at the 00s with fondness and think of my “first loves” back when I was starting to read works in English. I keep telling myself I’m gonna revisit some of them when I have time but ughh they’re all ass-long epics and where’s the time to properly enjoy it 😭
5. Finally, my fave single recs! I’m particularly proud of the one I did for Modern Love - after reading the fic I thought it would be impossible to put my incoherent thoughts into words but in the end the process was pretty smooth. I knew right away what I wanted to use as the banner motif (which is usually the hardest part because I’m a pretentious shit when it comes to those) and from there everything felt so natural! I was thrilled to know one of my all-time favorite reads was written by my friend @tackytigerfic and somehow that excitement made writing down my thoughts so much easier because for once I was writing them for Tacky and not the readers. It’s one of the most emotional recs I’ve ever written and hopefully it resonated with other people! I also have a soft spot for my rec for That Old Black Magic by @bixgirl1, which I did back when my blog was still a smol baby and my commentaries were way shorter with less rambling lol. That banner is my ultimate fave, I find it so pretty and I think it captures the mood I was going for, evoking the ending’s gentle atmosphere.
71 notes · View notes
etherrealoblivion · 4 years ago
Text
Someplace We Aren't Supposed To
Tumblr media
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: Spencer and Y/N have a relatively new relationship. Wanting to explore some more kinks, the prospect of the bathroom on the jet is far too enticing to pass up.
tags: smut, jet sex, hair pulling, exhibitionism kink, daddy kink, Dom!Spencer
A/N: i binge wrote this for this request. enjoy!
RATING: EXPLICIT
Words: 2,115
MASTERLIST
~
Everyone on the jet was fast asleep. Everyone except you and Spencer Reid.
Your boyfriend was quietly muttering to himself and flipping through a very thick book entitled, Match Wits With Mensa. He’d been reading it and rereading it a lot lately. When you’d asked him about it, he’d gone into a rant about how one needs to keep their brain alert and to do that, one needs to challenge oneself. 
By your count, he was on his… sixth? seventh? reread of the book, eyebrows drawn together tightly and silently arguing with whatever he was reading.
“....well, how the heck do you expect to gain knowledge of the correct pattern? You can’t!” he muttered, a little louder than anything else you’d managed to hear. Every now and then he’d scoff and say, “Well, that’s just not right.”
Dating Spencer Reid was… interesting. In many, many ways. One of the most prominent being the pleasant surprise as to how he behaved in bed.
You weren’t sure exactly what you’d been expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t what you’d got.
Spencer was, in the best possible way, dominant as fuck. When you’d first had sex, you were shocked to find he had much more fun being on top and pinning you down than the reverse of that.
But, other than him being a little commanding usually, your sex life was rather normal. Could having sex four times be considered a sex life? Sure it could, because even though you hadn’t done it all that much, each time was more amazing than the last.
Although… something had been rattling around your head since the last time you’d done it. After you’d both finished, he’d turned to you and said, “Maybe next time we can try something new?”
“Oh? Like what?” you asked enthusiastically.
“Um. I was maybe thinking… doing it someplace we aren’t supposed to?”
“Uhhh. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that, Spencer. My ass is sore enough already.”
“No!” he’d yelped, realizing how what he’d said sounded. “No, no, no. I meant more like… a physical place that’s more exciting? I don’t know, it’s weird.”
You’d been so delighted at him sharing his slightly kinker side, even more so at the prospect of actually exploring it.
“Okay! I think I’d really like to try that! Maybe next time we have time off, we can find somewhere we’d both be comfortable?”
“Wait, really?” his face went blank and you’d felt his spent cock perk up slightly.
“Yes,” you chuckled. “Maybe this weekend? If we don’t get a case, of course.”
And then the stupid phone had rung, pulling you from domestic bliss for three whole weeks to downtown Atlanta.
Now, though, you were safely on the plane home, excited to finally be able to relax. But still, an intrusive thought was wiggling around in your head and the more you tried to ignore it, the louder it got.
After several minutes, you set your own book down and looked at your oblivious boyfriend.
“Hey, Spencer?”
“Hmm?” he hummed back from behind his book.
“I was thinking about something we talked about a while back….”
“Mmhmm.”
You smiled, excited to see what his reaction to your proposal would be.
“And I figured we’re in a plane, yeah?”
“Mmhmm,” he muttered, flipping a page.
“And I’ve racked my brain this whole ride so far, trying to come up with a place more exciting than an airplane bathroom.”
“Huh?” he set his book down, head tilting ever so slightly to the right as it did when he was confused. Then, his whole face dropped, realization dawning on him and you had to suppress a chortle.
“Oh…. You mean....? Are you suggesting that we… um…”
Holding your hands up defensively, you smirked and slowly stood up.
“I’m not suggesting anything. In fact, now that everyone’s asleep,” you said with a pointed look around the plane, “I think I’ll use the bathroom. See you soon.”
And you walked away, making sure to sway your hips a little more prominently, and stepping into the tiny airplane bathroom.
There was a very big possibility that Spencer wouldn’t follow you. He wasn’t exactly the type to hook up in an airplane bathroom. Although, he was the one who’s brought up getting a little riskier in the first place.
The door slid open suddenly and Spencer was inside, quickly locking the door behind him and turning around. 
He opened his mouth, no doubt to spout off facts about the numbers of injuries and risks involved in what you were about to do, but your lips were on his before he got a chance to share any of them.
Moaning quietly at the feeling, you ripped off his shirt as he quickly pulled yours over your head along with your bra.
“God,” he gasped, hands instantly grabbing your chest, massaging your breasts lightly as you continued to kiss.
Slipping a hand down his pants, you muttered against his mouth, “I need you, Spencer,” as your hand coiled around his cock.
He was already so hard. Presumably just from the anticipation of this. 
Filling your voice with all the love you could manage, you groaned into his ear, “Fuck me!”
With that command, he spun you around, one hand flying to your hair and shoving you down so you were bent over the tiny sink. He shoved up your skirt and yanked your panties down in one fluid motion with the other hand.
You could hear him unbuckling his belt and he leaned in to whisper in your ear, the hairs on the back of your neck pricking up at the feeling.
“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you. Look at you…. Bent over like the cheap little whore that you are. Begging for me to give you what you so desperately want. I bet you like how I’m holding you down, taking control. Tell me, how bad do you want this, huh?”
He pressed the head of his cock against your entrance and you fluttered at the pressure. You needed him bad.
“So, so bad! Spencer!! Pleeeaassee!” you whimpered softly, forehead pressing against the hard plastic of the counter.
With a sharp tug of your hair, he lifted your head so you could see how you looked: makeup smeared, mouth hanging open, and utterly and completely wrecked. What really took the cake was the sight of Spencer holding you down, one hand in your hair and the other on your waist, arching your back. 
Sometimes, especially in the heat of the moment, you would forget how young he was.
“Then take it, little girl,” and he shoved into you in one smooth thrust, a sharp gasp leaving your lips before you could suppress it.
His hand snaked around your mouth and held it shut as he slowly pulled back out and filled you again.
“Shhhh,” he chided, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. “You don’t want everyone to hear you, do you?”
You moaned around his hand as he continued to pound into you.
“Oh? Maybe you do?” he leaned forward again, briefly biting your ear before whispering: “Maybe you want to wake up everyone on the plane so that they know how you liked to get fucked. So that they know who you belong to.”
“Mmm,” you moaned, attempting to show him how much you were enjoying this.
He quickly withdrew his hand and you bit your lip in fear of making too much noise. While the idea of everyone knowing what was happening was hot, it wasn’t something you wanted to tempt.
“What’s that?” Spencer grunted, yanking your hair harder and harder with each shove into you. “Say it, little girl. Say who owns you.”
“You! Fuck! You, Spencer!”
“Say it,” he commanded, teeth biting down on your shoulder harshly. “Say my fucking name.”
You could feel the heat rising in the pit of your stomach as he gained speed and depth, getting rougher and rougher with you, practically yanking you back onto him regularly.
“Spencer! Fuck! Spencer!”
Uh oh.
That was definitely louder than you thought it was. You reeeeally hoped these walls were somewhat soundproof.
Spencer, however, was losing composure, a sight you loved to see in the mirror. His mouth was dropped open, forming a tight ‘O’ shape, his eyes were shut tightly and his eyebrows so furrowed. He’d taken off his glasses. When did he do that?
You could tell he was close. He always started to ramble the closer he got to coming. But you weren’t worried, you were right there with him.
“You fucking love taking my cock like a little slut. I can feel your goddamn cunt fluttering around my fucking dick. You like this? You like watching me as I fuck into you from behind in a cheap fucking bathroom? You wanna watch me come inside you, fill up your little hole? Fuck! You’re such a good little slut for Daddy.”
At that last word, your eyes snapped shut and you felt the familiar burst of flames licking their way up your body as you came apart underneath him, forced to watch yourself the whole time.
Spencer’s thrust quickly became erratic at the sensation of you coming around him and with a few more thrusts you felt him fill you up completely, staying firmly inside for a few minutes.
When he finally pulled out, one of his hands stayed on your hip to hold you still so he could watch his come slowly slide out of you and down your thighs. Intrigued, he swiped a finger over your sore hole and played with the juices there, gently rubbing them into your skin.
“You okay?”
His voice was so soft, so tender. So… Spencer.
“Yeah!” you gasped, standing up very carefully and pulling up your panties, hoping the plane would land soon. “Very, very much yes.”
You smiled warmly at him and he returned it, redressing himself and slipping his glasses back on his nose.
“I’m sorry about the, uh… Well… I don’t really know where that came from…”
“The, um… the thing you called yourself at the end?”
He blushed, a strange circumstance due to what you’d just done.
“Yeah. That.”
“Spencer,” you pulled his face up to meet yours quickly. A worried expression was on his face that you needed to rectify quickly. “I don’t mind that. Actually… I’m very curious to explore that. If you want?”
His face lit up and somehow, that was more pleasurable than the orgasm he’d just given you.
“Really?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I think that could be fun! There’s lots of stuff I’m excited to try with you.”
“Me too.”
The two of you held each other for a bit longer before Spencer left the bathroom, you staying behind just in case someone had woken up.
You exited moments later after adjusting your hair and makeup so you looked presentable enough and sat down across from your boyfriend, a pleased expression on your face.
Spencer, however, was a shade of bright red.
“You okay?” you asked softly, taking his hand across the table.
He shook his head and, avoiding eye-contact, jerked it towards the other end of the plane.
You swiveled around and your stomach dropped.
There, chuckling softly, was a very awake Prentiss and Morgan, the latter of which wolf-whistled once you made eye-contact.
Shit.
“Fuck!” you turned back to Spencer. “Did they see you leave the bathroom?”
You wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Spencer somehow turned redder.
“They… they were both in the kitchen, just outside.”
“Oh my god…. How much did they—”
“Too much!” Morgan hollered from the back, a smile in his tone that you wanted to slap out of him. “Too much, lover girl!”
And you heard Emily chortle and the unmistakable sound of a high-five.
Spinning around, a surge of boldness washed over you and for some unearthly reason, the words left your mouth before you could think them through.
“We’ll make sure to be a lot louder next time, then.”
That sure as hell knocked the pleased expressions off their faces, Spencer included.
“What?” you asked innocently. “It’s their fault for listening. I’m not ashamed.”
But Spencer simply swallowed and said, “Next time?”
You looked up at him, smiling at the way he twitched his nose and how that shifted his glasses. He was so beautiful. And he was all yours. And you were all his.
“Oh yeah. Next time,” you said, winking at him.
As the plane landed and everyone departed, you swore you heard Morgan mutter to Prentiss, “Remind me to buy earmuffs.”
Poor Morgan. For the stuff you and Spencer were gonna do, he’d need a whole noise-canceling system.
~
A/N: i’ll edit this a bit better tmr I just wanted to post it now.
~
TAGLIST
@whollytaciturn​ @101donuts​ @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @happyiidiot @cielo1984 @thupidalethea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid @aloha-ashley-taylor @justchiara-02 @spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin @matthewreid​ @brokenanxiety​ @thatsonezesty13​ @psychedellic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck @awhollandx @baddreamsandbrokenhearts @simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam @gejatume @url-under-construction @radkryptonitepeanut @idontneedalltheseemotions @krymson182 @addie5264  @pinkdiamond1016
252 notes · View notes
927roses-and-stuff · 4 years ago
Text
Miracles in Gotham: Chapter 4: Unwelcome Discoveries (Part 2)
Hey, guys! This fic is inspired by @ozmav’s Maribat AU. Shoutout to @mystery-5-5 for brainstorming ideas with me for this fic. 
Woah, updating twice within the same week? It’s like I finally learned how to manage my time!... Not. Honestly this is my stress relief right now because I have two papers due tomorrow and those subjects are not as much fun to write about. On another note, I just finished my midterm and passed! So, yay! Anyways, hope you guys enjoy and have a little bit of luck come your way too. 
Btw, after you’re reading this can you guys please tell me if I’m writing too much angst after reading through this chapter??? I am writing what I think would logically happen in this type of scenario, but I also tend to be really pessimistic. 
If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham or ask to be added to the tag list.
Tag list: @northernbluetongue @zerotosiki @spicybelladonna @my-name-is-michell @legendaryneckjudgestudent @lokiifriggasonn
First Previous Next Fanfic
By the time Marinette entered the classroom, her mood had lifted considerably from moments before. She sat at her usual seat and prepared her things as the rest of the class filed in. Her mood was slightly disrupted by a disgruntled Lila who roughly swept past her, but otherwise it seemed like today was finally going to be a normal day; well as normal as one could get in Paris, anyway. As the last remaining students settled in, Mme. Bustier walked into the room with a huge stack of papers. She settled them on her desk before addressing everyone. 
“Good morning, everyone!” 
“Good morning, Mme. Bustier,” the class parroted back in varying degrees of enthusiasm. Mme. Bustier smiled in satisfaction. 
“Now before we begin our usual morning exercise, I would like to call up Marinette and Alya to help me distribute these packages for you. I will give you a few minutes to look through it before discussing it further,” she said, as she split the pile of papers in half and handed one half to each girl. Marinette’s eyes bulged. The stack of papers consisted of multiple stacks of paper about twenty pages long each. She and Alya shared a glance before obeying Mme. Bustier’s orders. She started at Chloe and Sabrina’s desk and ended with Rose and Juleka at the back. Then, she returned to her seat, analyzing the stack of papers in front of her.
“Wayne Enterprises Sponsored International Connections Program in Gotham City, USA Information Package and Permission Forms”
After that was a bunch of paragraphs that Marinette skimmed over. The first few pages detailed what the program was for, their accommodations, costs for travel along with what necessary documents were needed, and all sorts of other details that made Marinette dizzy. The next few pages after that outlined the risks specific to Gotham and resources that students and their guardians were strongly recommended to review before even stepping onto Gotham grounds. The pages after that were permission forms asking for the legal guardian’s consent, her personal info, insurance, etc. 
Needless to say, the whole class was baffled. In fact, some of them were downright lost, considering they didn’t even know a Gotham City existed in the US. Or what Wayne Enterprises was supposed to be and why they were offered to join this program. Only Max and Alya seemed excited at the prospect of the field trip, judging on the excited murmurs that Marinette could hear. She picked up on the word “vigilantes” from Alya and “greatest detective” from somewhere behind her  and suddenly it all made sense. She wasn’t sure if she heard correctly, but she was pretty sure she heard Lila talking in self-assured whispers to the confused people around her. She held in a scoff, before returning her attention to the papers in front of her.
Marinette frowned, closing the package and pushing it away from her. She waited for Mme. Bustier to explain the details more clearly. Unfortunately, Marinette already knew there was no way she could go, at least, not without risking Paris’ safety. 
“If you have finished, please bring your attention to me. I will explain everything. Please leave all your questions till the end,” Mme. Bustier said, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “As you may have noticed, this opportunity has been given to us by M. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises. He has chosen our school as a trial school for a program that he wants to implement next year to help expand student achievement nationally and internationally. As well as to encourage young students like yourselves to make connections with students from other countries. In fact, I believe it was Mayor Bourgeois who sent M. Wayne a glowing recommendation of our class from fundraising events to everyone’s extracurriculars and achievements! I am so proud of all of you.” 
At the front, Chloé straightened in her seat and smiled smugly. Beside her, Sabrina was looking from Chloé to the stack of papers in front of her in disbelief. The class was in a similar state of shock, and soon whispers erupted excitedly from most people in the class before Mme. Bustier silenced them all. 
Oh, that made sense, Marinette thought. Despite the sense of pride she felt for herself and the class (their hard work deserved some reward after all, especially with all the akumas recently), she knew Mayor Bourgeois was not the type of person to recommend just anyone from the goodness of his heart. He had recommended this class to M. Wayne for Chloé’s own success. Which was a bit of a shame, Marinette thought, since Chloé had more than enough resources to find opportunities for herself. However, she couldn’t help but feel grateful to whatever deity convinced Mayor Bourgeois to include the class, anyway.
“Anyways,” Mme. Bustier said when the class had calmed down. “I expect everyone here to listen to what I have to say and take it to heart.” Mme. Bustier’s voice settled lowered, her tone becoming dangerously low. “This program is a huge opportunity however, Gotham City is full of many risks and I am making it absolutely mandatory for everyone in this room, as well as their legal guardians to use the sources outlined under “Risks to be Aware of While in Gotham City” Section. While M. Wayne has assured the supervisors for the trip as well as M. Damocles that our accommodations will be in Gotham’s financial district, there is still going to be danger; more than what we’re accustomed to in Paris.” 
At the end of her spiel, the atmosphere in the room weighed heavy on Marinette. She had never seen Mme. Bustier so strict before, her teal eyes piercing through everybody in the room. 
“Um, Mme. Bustier?” Lila spoke and stood up. The class swivelled their attention to her. “I’ve actually been to Gotham City and have met M. Wayne before for a humanitarian project. I’m sure M. Wayne will make sure to do everything to keep us safe.” 
“That may be, Lila, but I assure you, these instructions were given to me by M. Wayne himself via email. He will do his best to make sure our trip is as safe as possible, but that means we need to do our part in keeping ourselves safe.” 
Blinking owlishly, Lila faltered. “Yes, of course, Mme. Bustier.” She forced a smile. “I was just saying so because it would be an absolute shame for anyone to miss out on such a great opportunity!” 
Marinette rolled her eyes. Sure, she thought. That, or she just wanted everyone to know that she knew Bruce Wayne- whoever he was- and be impressed.  At least she didn’t claim that she saved Bruce Wayne’s horse or something similar. Or claim to be friends with the vigilantes Alya had been fangirling about earlier.
The rest of the morning was spent going through the rest of the package from how to ensure that everyone had their visa, to what they should bring and how they should behave while they were there. Marinette frowned; there was something off about this trip. She wasn’t sure whether it was the duration of the trip ( which had a minimum of one month, with extra time being granted in case of any future interruptions), or why an American company would choose this specific French class for the trial program instead of a class in say, London, or any other country that spoke English. It seemed that Max was thinking along the same lines as her, because the moment Mme. Bustier finished, his hand shot up in the air. 
“Yes, Max?” 
“I have a few questions concerning this program. Why is there a minimum allotted time for our stay? Would our parents need to agree to any extension of staying? And how are we supposed to communicate or even understand anything when most of us don’t speak English?” 
Mme. Bustier smiled. “Those are all excellent questions. As I have said before, Gotham City is dangerous so there might be trips that are part of the program that will need to be rescheduled or we may need to take a later flight in case anything happens at the airport. Therefore, we need to be aware that our trip may last longer than the required month. Next, while we are there, you will be put in remedial English classes along with any classes you choose to take at Gotham Academy for the duration of our stay. This way, you will have the opportunity to brush up your English skills.” 
Alya was quick to stand up and shoot her hand in the air. “Will we be going on any field trips outside of Gotham City? Like Metropolis?” 
Mme. Bustier stared at her. “Maybe, but as for now, all details of the trip are included in the itinerary in your packages.” 
Alya deflated, slumping in her seat. Marinette turned toward her and whispered, “What’s so special about Metropolis?”
She perked up and whispered excitedly. “It’s the home of Superman, Booster Gold and Blue Beetle!” Marinette had absolutely no clue -nor any real desire to know- who those were. It didn’t seem to matter as Alya rambled on. “And, and, and, it’s also the home to Pulwitzer prize-winning journalist Lois freaking Lane  from the Daily Planet. I love her. I think I told Nino once that I would leave him for her (Nino gave an affirmative “uh huh”) if the opportunity ever arose and he said he wouldn’t mind as long as he could be with Superman. But that’s alright because Lois Lane is a badass and I love her; she is a genius-” 
“Ahem.” Mme. Bustier coughed. Alya stopped mid-speech and laughed sheepishly. Her voice must have been louder than she realized.
“Sorry Mme. Bustier.” 
“No problem, Alya. Just keep your excitement until the end of class.” She smiled softly. “And, I will see if I can mention your love for Lois Lane to M. Wayne.”
The way Alya froze in her seat, her jaw unhinged and wide eyes, Marinette wasn’t sure if she was in normal shock or if Mme. Bustier had actually managed to kill her with words. She chuckled before nudging her side to bring her back to reality. Shaken out of her stupor, Alya thanked Mme. Bustier and sat in her seat. Her smile was record-breakingly wide and she seemed to vibrate in place. 
Letting out a giggle, Marinette was ecstatic for her best friend. Sure, she may not know the superheroes she mentioned, and still wasn’t too sure of who Lois Lane was, but Alya looked like she won a million euros and meeting her idol would be a great opportunity. As Alya continued to freak out however, she shared glances between Adrien and Nino in front of her and had to stifle their laughter. 
Maybe if Alya did meet Lois Lane and Superman, and Gotham vigilantes, she could share her excitement with Marinette when the class returned to Paris. 
The rest of the day had been pretty normal, with the addition of excitement in the air as her class discussed the trip to Gotham. Students from other classes seemed to be split between being jealous of the class for the opportunity, or relieved at the foreseeable absence of what they dubbed as “the akuma class.” Students from her own class huddled together in their small groups, already planning on what they wanted to do, what they thought Gotham would be like, and how they were excited to meet any cute Americans. Marinette couldn’t help but let their excitement affect her as well. Not only was going abroad always a cause for excitement but surely it was a relief to be able to leave Paris in the foreseeable future. It was exhausting being targeted by stupid demonic butterflies and sucking up your feelings like they didn’t exist (Unless you were Lila, then you cried and let everyone worry about your emotional state and any akumas that could come from it, that is). However, Marinette had a feeling that this trip to Gotham would stir a lot of drama within their class, when everyone had the chance to reveal any negative emotions without the consequence of an akuma around. 
Well, that was that, she supposed as she went home for the lunch break, the permission forms tucked under her arm. She had been half tempted to chuck them in a bin somewhere, but knew her parents would be pissed if she didn’t tell them. Thus, she entered the bakery and once there was a lull in the orders, asked both of her parents if they could talk. 
She led them upstairs in the living room and placed the bundle of papers on the dining room table. Marinette briefly explained the program and let them read through the package carefully. By the time they finished, Marinette only had an hour left of her two hour lunch break. 
“So?” She prompted, trying to gauge their reactions. 
Her maman and dad exchanged a glance and nodded, before turning back to her. 
“You’re definitely going.” Her maman said, putting the package back on the table. 
Marinette’s jaw dropped. “Wait, Maman, don’t you need some more time to think about this?” She couldn’t believe it. She should’ve chucked the package in a bin. 
Her dad frowned. “Marinette, we don’t like it either, and it’s not...ideal, but we believe it’s for the best if you stay away from Paris for now.” 
Marinette’s eyes widened, glancing back and forth between her maman and dad. “What do you mean?” 
Her maman sighed. “Ever since we almost got akumatized on the day you were expelled, me and your father have been talking, and well, Paris isn’t safe for you anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.”
Her dad nodded in agreement. Marinette felt befuddled. She felt like she definitely lost a few brain cells. 
“Gotham City isn’t safe either, Maman, Papa. Didn’t you see the risks listed?” Marinette asked, grabbing the package and desperately scouring through the package. This was so not happening; she couldn’t afford to leave Paris. 
She heard a sigh coming from her maman, before her hands settled on Marinette’s own. Marinette glanced up to stare at her maman’s cloudy grey gaze. “It’s definitely not ideal, and we wish you were somewhere safer, but I trust that M. Wayne and the school administration would never have allowed this to happen if it was too risky.” 
“But-” 
“And, “ her dad interjected before Marinette could continue. “If this hadn’t come up, we would’ve sent you away with your grandmère and you would’ve had to pause your schooling and travel around Europe with her until it was safe to come back home.” 
“Or,” her maman added, giving Tom a small glare. “We would’ve sent you to Shanghai with your uncle Wang. At least this way, you can continue with your schooling and still be with your friends under the maximum amount of protection.” 
Her breathing turned heavy at her words. Her heart was beating faster, was it just her imagination or did it feel like the room was stuffier than before. She didn’t understand. Why now? They had been planning to send her away. She pressed a hand against her chest to try to control her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It had been a calming trick Master Fu had shown her when she had been at the edge of getting an anxiety attack. 
Not for the first time, Marinette wished she could just tell her parents she was Ladybug. Then again, maybe that would’ve motivated them further to get her out of Paris. 
No, her maman and papa loved her. They just wanted her to be safe. They weren’t aware she’d been taking care of Paris all this time. 
She felt her maman’s warm presence beside her as her papa engulfed them both. She barely registered the apologies her maman whispered as she stroked her hair. She was too busy pushing down all her anxieties. 
She couldn’t risk getting akumatized. 
Her lunch break had been long over by the time she had calmed down. By then, both her maman and papa had returned to the bakery with promises that they would talk about this tomorrow and that they would call the school to report her absence for the afternoon. 
Marinette barely registered them as she trudged up to her bedroom. Then her bathroom. Shower. Dry hair. Change of clothes. Bed. 
She didn’t know what to feel. She didn’t notice the kwamis flying towards her and snuggling with her, in her hair and the crook of her neck. 
“What do I do?” She asked listlessly. 
Tikki floated to her field of vision. “Marinette. It’ll be okay.” 
“How?” 
Tikki didn’t give an answer. She sighed and sat up. She was going to write in her diary until she read her last entry. Right. Marianne. She sighed. She’d call her and then go on an early patrol of the city. 
She didn’t want the helplessness that came with being Marinette.
Taking a long, deep breath, she grabbed her tablet and called Marianne through video chat. Surprisingly, despite her age, Marianne adapted to technology pretty well. She and Master Fu were living somewhere in London, enjoying their retirement together. Marinette liked to keep up with them regularly, since she missed Master Fu, and their present now gave her hope for her own future. 
She waited for the screen to load, and smiled widely when Marianne’s face entered the screen. She looked like she had just gotten home; the makeup she was wearing was starting to fade, and her hair was tied in a slightly wet updo bun.
“Marinette! Bonjour! How have you been, darling?” Marinette noticed that she had adopted a slight British accent when she talked. It hadn’t been that long since they last talked, so maybe her and Master Fu had been going out more. 
“Bonjour Marianne.” She softly waved her hand. “Everything’s fine actually. How are you and Master Fu?”
Marianne smiled, re-focusing her own screen so Marinette could see her more clearly. “Everything’s been great. Wang has taken to liking massage parlors again. We just visited one yesterday.” 
Marinette smiled fondly. She could feel Wayzz’s presence on her shoulder as he listened intently. If anyone had been more devastated than Marinette about Master Fu’s amnesia and departure, it would have been Wayzz. It had taken a long time for him to open up to Marinette and the other kwamis, often leaving the Oolong tea she brewed for him to run cold. Fortunately, he was getting better and opening up more. Their love for Master Fu had been what helped he and Marinette bond together as a new Guardian and kwami. 
“I’m glad. It seems like you two are really happy.” 
Marianne squinted her eyes; she could feel her gaze through the screen. “Why did you call, Marinette?”
“I, ah, had a question about the Miraculous actually. I was wondering if your time with Master Fu before had given you any insight to them.” 
Marianne frowned slightly, rubbing her chin. “I’ve picked up on a few things, but Wang was really secretive. I’ll give it my best shot for you, dear.” 
“Thank you! I was wondering if you had any clue as to why the Miracle Box turned into an egg when Master Fu renounced his Guardianship to me?” 
Marianne sighed. “I wish I could tell you, but I’m as lost as you are.” 
She deflated. Her hands gripped the tablet tighter. She knew there was only a miniscule chance that Marianne would’ve known anything, but a tiny part of her had hoped that luck would be on her side. Exhaling, Marinette thanked her. 
On the other side of the screen, Marianne’s frown deepened. As happy as she was with Wang Fu, it was cruel for destiny to hand such a young child the enormous and numerous responsibilities that the Guardian had to bear. She glanced at Wang, who was sleeping on the couch contentedly. She was happy they could now spend the rest of their lives together in peace when most of it had been previously spent in war. 
Speaking of war… 
“Marinette, darling! I think I might know of someone who can help you!” 
Marinette perked up. She had been about to change the subject or close the call, but maybe she had a bit of luck on her side after all. 
“Who?” 
“During the war, when Wang and I escaped to Paris, we were aided by someone who would become one of our closest friends. When he was recruited to battle in the war, he was very young, so Wang had lent him the Snake Miraculous for its powers of Intuition, at least until the war was over.” 
Marinette felt Wayzz stiffen on her shoulder. 
“She doesn’t mean…”
“Unfortunately,” Marianne continued. “When he returned home, he had an argument with Wang and almost didn’t return the Miraculous. It was only a month later that he left it on our doorstep. We haven’t heard from him since, but maybe he might know something. He was always a genius and intuitive beyond his years.” 
Marinette frowned. “Do you know where he might be now?” 
“His name is Alfred Pennyworth. He mentioned once that his family had a tradition of serving a family called the Waynes.” 
Marinette’s frown deepened. There was the name Wayne again. Which meant Gotham. It felt like the universe really wanted her to go there. She sighed. At least she’d have an objective while she was there- if she did go in the first place. She smiled again, once she saw Marianne’s worried stare. 
“Thank you so much, Marianne. I need to go now and plan what to do. I hope you and Master Fu stay well.” 
Marianne smiled. “You too, Marinette. Don’t hesitate to call me for anything, dear.” 
She merely nodded, and they both logged off. She set aside her tablet and turned to face Sass, who was already in front of her. 
“Tell me everything you know about this Alfred Pennyworth and your time with him, Sass. I need to know if he can help before considering everything.” 
The snake kwami merely nodded. “Of course, my Guardian.”
59 notes · View notes
goldgalaxytea-fanfics · 4 years ago
Text
Meteor Shower
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: Identity V
Relationship: Luca Balsa | Prisoner & Yidhra | Dream Witch, Yidhra | Dream Witch & Yidhra's Follower
Characters: Luca Balsa | Prisoner, Yidhra | Dream Witch, Yidhra's Followers (Identity V
Additional Tags: commission, Inspired by the Meteor Shower Event, meteor shower, Stargazing, Developing Friendships, Talking, Luca Balsa | Prisoner Has Memory Issues, Yidhra | Dream Witch is a scary lady™, Luca Balsa | Prisoner is a nerd
Words: 1,291
Summary:
Unlikely friends bond over the stars.
Notes:
This is a commission for my amazing gf!!!🥰 It was a lot of fun to write cuz it features me and my bb's favorite characters!!!🥺💖 
Tumblr media
One could find almost anything in the manor if you looked hard enough. There were endless hallways and rooms, each hiding numerous secrets and long forgotten items. Luckily for Luca he had stumbled upon an unlocked storage room on the 3rd floor, the old dusty boxes nestled inside holding the exact treasure he was searching for.
A telescope!
It had a few dents here and there, and was covered in so much dust that simply looking at it sent him into a coughing fit, yet it still worked as if it were brand new. Gently dusting off his prize the young inventor made his way outside, the soft glow of the moon illuminating the otherwise dark grounds.
Luca explored the gardens, eyes pointed skyward as he searched for the best spot to view the meteor shower. None of the places close to the manor's exterior were great so the young man ventured farther out.
After a short walk the ground began to slope upwards. A grassy hill lay ahead, devoid of any trees on or nearby.
The perfect spot!
Luca excitedly rushed forward before quickly freezing in his tracks.
He was not alone...
Atop the raised earth sat a large woman, her skin an unnatural purple paired with long hair as dark as a raven. A blindfold covered her eyes, yet nothing obscured the long scaly snake tail that lay in place of where her legs should be. In her clawed hands she held up a small girl whose color pallet matched her own, allowing the young girl to get a good look at the falling meteors above.
Dream witch and one of her followers!
Luckily it seems like neither had noticed him, eyes focused on the sky above and paying no mind to the earth below. Luca turned to leave, feet silent as he crept away slowly. 
"Hello 'prisoner'." Yidhra greeted him, face still turned the opposite direction.
Oh no…
Yidhra was a force to be reckoned with in and out of matches. The eldritch god was known for her ruthlessness during games; almost  never going friendly during matches and showing no mercy to any of the survivors, regardless of if they were the first one found or the last. Around the manor the snake woman was hardly seen by the survivors, avoiding the humans at every chance and only interacting with the other hunters.
Facing the Dream Witch one on one never ends well...
"Ah- My apologies, ma'am." Luca hastily apologized. "I didn't know you were here. I'll leave you be." He turned on his heels, wanting to leave as soon as possible for fear of invoking the god's wrath.
"Calm down, little one." Yidhra spoke, lowering the small follower back down onto the grassy hill so she could properly face the 'prisoner'. "You may watch the stars with us."
The rational part of Luca's brain screamed absolutely not while the fried part reasoned he should. He meets the two sides midway, mentally listing off the pros and cons of each choice.
Pro: it's the best spot to view the meteor shower
Con: possibly getting murdered
Pro: hunters aren't allowed to harm survivors outside of matches
Con: she's a god and could definitely get away with breaking some rules.
Pro: it's the best spot to view the meteor shower
In Luca's scrambled mind the pros outweigh the cons, so in the end he decides to stay.
The inventor went about setting up his telescope, securing the legs and adjusting the lens. He worked as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb the hunter a few feet away from him. Though Luca was not a quiet man - always mumbling to himself and letting any thoughts that came into his head spill from his mouth with no filter, his rambling often accompanied by metallic clanks from his constant tinkering - so staying silent was a difficult task. An uneasy tension ran thick between the three, Luca refusing to acknowledge it for fear of annoying the eldritch god. Though said deity sensed what was amiss and quickly grew tired of it.
"Out with it already, boy." Yidhra hissed. "We don't have all night."
Luca recoiled from his telescope, fearing the worst.
"Oh um I want to talk about the stars, they're really quite fascinating, but-" The man swallowed nervously. "I do not wish to disturb your peace."
"Go ahead, I do not mind."
When Luca showed no sign of opening his tightly sealed lips, she continued on.
"Come now, don't be shy." She smiled, flashing her sharp teeth. "I don't bite." A shrill sound that might have been a laugh rang out from her throat.
Luca awkwardly laughed along before clearing his throat. The inventor aimed the telescope to the sky, his good eye searching for stars and constellations through the glass. Whenever he found one he would list off the various names, stories and facts about them that he could remember. His words were a mess;  full of missing info and constant back tracking when he remembered what he forgot. As he spoke he risked a glance towards Yidhra, worried the hunter was annoyed by his jumbled rambling. Thankfully her expression was one of amusement, so Luca continued on with his incoherent spiel.
When the young man eventually ran out of new stars, silence reclaimed the night. Though it didn't last for long. A tug at his shirt pulled the man's gaze away from the telescope. Looking down he was face to face with the follower. What was normally a horrifying sight was now kind of cute. The small girl was smiling, eagerly pointing at the telescope.
"Oh you want to take a look?" Luca asked. The follower nodded. The brunette stepped aside, allowing her access to the telescope. Luca took a seat on the hill between the Dream Witch and her follower, head tilted back as he watched the meteors falling overhead. A peaceful silence befall the three of them, an unlikely trio simply enjoying the stars together.
It wasn't long till the quiet night was once again interrupted.
"I've roamed this earth since before life inhabited it." The snake woman reminisced, voice unusually soft. "Yet I never grew tired of watching the stars. It's one of the few constants I've had over the centuries. Their beauty is mesmerizing, even to a god."
Her words resolved any lingering tension, the wall between hunter and survivor finally collapsing. The two conversed freely, the hours flying by as they discussed whatever random topics presented themselves. Before they knew it the sky was changing colors, the rising sun illuminating the hill where they sat. The higher the sun rose the farther Luca's eyes closed. A long yawn escaped from the inventor before he finally succumbed to the sweet call of sleep, head cushioned by the soft grass.
"Silly mortal," Yidhra quietly laughed, careful not to disturb the slumbering survivor. "forgetting he requires rest."
The Dream Witch rose, ordering her follower to gently carry the sleeping man. Yidhra leads the way back to the manor, her follower close behind. Once inside she makes her way to Luca's room, using her claws to pry open his door. Her follower sets the inventor on his bed, Yidhra proceeding to tuck him under his blankets. Once the man was taken care of the hunter left, carefully closing the door and making her way to her own room.
As she slithers away her mind can't help but drift back to the 'prisoner'. 
None of the other survivors were nowhere near as interesting as him. She mused. He stood out amongst a sea of painfully boring mortals.
Yidhra decided right then and there that their first conversation wouldn't be their last. The Dream Witch would make sure of it.
Tumblr media
Notes:
If anyone is interested, I've opened fanfic commissions to support my Identity V addiction! This post has info about it! ^-^
24 notes · View notes
baepsaesbae · 4 years ago
Text
Parang Kape Ko. Bittersweet. || Just Like My Coffee. Bittersweet
Tumblr media
Pairing— Kim Taehyung x reader
Genre— Fluff/Romance, Enemies to Lovers au, coffee shop au
Warnings— None
Word Count— 1.8k
Summary— You work at a coffee shop with the most annoying person ever. Kim Taehyung. 
A/N— Thank you @kitsutaes​ for requesting! I hope you like it darling. You can still request drabbles up until the end of the August with this post
You couldn’t quite place it. Something about Taehyung made your skin crawl since the very first day you laid eyes on him. To make matters worse, your manager kept pairing you together for nearly every shift (she couldn’t help it, she thought you guys looked cute together).
You despised the way girls would giggle and try to subtly give him their number after ordering their drink. You rolled your eyes every time he’d wink and flirt back with them. Each shift with just the two of you was unbearable. 
Taehyung was naturally a player, anyone could see that. Women would swoon from a mere flash of a smile. They’d be putty in his hands with a simple wink. That being said, Taehyung was so taken aback when his charms didn’t work on you. He couldn’t figure out what he did to tick you off, but it seemed like you didn’t like him from the start. That was a concept he couldn’t fathom. 
It was like a never ending game of tag that you didn’t want to play, and you couldn’t risk Taehyung finally catching up to you. The more you showed your disdain for Taehyung, the more intrigued he’d be by you, thus spurring him to pester you even more. 
“Hey grumpy grump! How was your weekend?” Taehyung greeted you as you clocked in.
“It was fine. Yours?” you replied with indifference.
“It was chill, kinda lowkey. I actually found a cool hole in the wall restaurant that I thought maybe we could--”
“I’m busy,” you interrupted without looking at him.
“But I didn’t even say when--”
“You don’t need to. I’m very busy all the time,” you walked away to prep the machines before Taehyung could even reply. 
“C’mon, just give me a chance! It doesn’t even have to be a date. I genuinely want to get to know you. Why do you hate me so much?” Taehyung pouted as he followed you around like a lost puppy. 
“Prep the tables and chairs, please,” you commanded without acknowledging his whining.
“Yes ma’am. See? I’m such a good boy, I always listen to you,” he called out from across the cafe as he unstacked chairs. 
You ignored him. This was your normal routine every time you worked with Taehyung. He seemed to get a thrill every time he riled you up, so you’ve learned not to give him the satisfaction. Straight up ignoring him was the best way to go. 
Taehyung became preoccupied with taking orders once the customers started piling in. You absentmindedly made the drinks, a task that you could now do with your eyes closed. You thought about what Taehyung said. Sure, he’s an annoying prick who knows he’s too handsome for his own good, but does that really justify your hatred for him?
You hated to admit it, but Taehyung is the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. Your heart fluttered every time he teased you, and though you gave off the impression that you wouldn’t care if he disappeared off the face of the Earth, you were secretly pleased with the attention he gave you. On occasion, you’ve caught glimpses of random girls glaring at you while Taehyung was messing around with you. 
You shook your head as you powered up the blender to make a double mocha frappe with 2 extra shots of espresso. What the hell were you thinking? This is exactly why you don’t like Taehyung. He lives in your mind rent free. 
“I think that frappe is blended enough,” Taehyung observed. He appeared out of nowhere, startling you.
“You good?” he asked with a hint of concern.
“I’m fine,” you answered curtly as you handed him the drink. 
“Frappe for Tiffany!” Taehyung called out before returning his attention to you, “I was serious earlier by the way. This little game of ours is fun, but I honestly want to get to know you. Plus, you never actually talk to me so I don’t know what I did to make you hate my guts or whatever. Unless you’re like a massive introvert or something. I’d respect that of course, but like I said I literally wouldn’t know that because you never talk to me so--”
“Okay! Fine! I’ll go with you to that stupid restaurant. Will you finally shut up now?” you snapped. 
“Aw, so you do listen when I talk to you. It’s a date! Or not, that’s up to you. You free after this shift?” he lifted his eyebrows with excitement. 
“Yeah,” you begrudgingly nodded. 
The rest of the shift flew by with the nonstop stream of customers. The morning rush is always tough, but Taehyung handled the flow perfectly every time. His demeanor calms even the most irate caffeine addicted customers.
“I’m starving,” Taehyung announced as he clocked out. 
“What kind of food does the restaurant serve?” you asked as your stomach rumbled.
“Hamburgers!” Taehyung beamed. 
“Cool. Text me the address and I’ll meet you there,” you say as you head towards your car.
“Wait! It’s actually not too far from here. There’s no need to take two vehicles,” Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck.
“Do you wanna ride in my car?” you asked quizzically. 
“Actually I wanted to take you for a ride. On my bike,” he quickly added.
“Sure I guess. You got a little basket for me to ride in or something?” you attempted to be friendly. 
“Not quite. I don’t have a spare helmet, but I can assure you that I’m a safe driver,” he says as he leads you to his parking spot.
“You have a moped?” you asked in shock. You couldn’t help but smile at the cute little lavender moped that Taehyung probably zips around on every day.
“Yeah, I love this little sucker. It used to be my sister’s, that’s why it’s purple. But it’s badass on the streets,” Taehyung patted the seat.
“So where am I sitting?” you asked even though you already knew the answer. 
“You’d be safest sitting behind me. You can hold onto me if you’d like. For safety reasons, of course,” he smiled. 
You climbed onto the moped after him. You didn’t want to hold onto him, but you whimpered and quickly wrapped your arms around him as soon as he took off. The tiny moped was surprisingly fast, and since it was so small, you could practically feel every bump on the road. 
Taehyung smirked as you hung onto him tightly. “Cute,” he thought. 
Taehyung’s scent enveloped you as you leaned into his back. You’ve grown accustomed to his smell since you were always together at work, but being up close and personal with him was a different story. He had a comforting smell that made you want to snuggle up to him even more. You wondered which cologne he was wearing, just in case you wanted to pick it up for yourself. 
You felt how solid his torso was as you clung to him. Your thoughts lingered to his earlier question yet again. Why did you hate him so much? He really didn’t seem like a bad guy. In fact, the opposite is true. Sure he could be a bit flirty, but he was also always kind and gentle. You realized that he never flirted with the customers first, he simply returned their energy. 
“We’re here!” Taehyung happily announced.
He led you into a small restaurant that appeared to be family owned. The owners greeted Taehyung by his first name, indicating that he’s probably a regular customer. 
“Welcome in! And who’s this lovely lady you brought with you?” the man greeted. 
“Taehyung! Is this this coffee shop girl? She’s just as gorgeous as you said she wa--” his wife began to ramble until Taehyung cut her off.
“I’ll have two of the usuals please. Oh, and two sodas. Thanks guys,” Taehyung ordered quickly before bringing you over to a small table in the corner. 
“How much do I owe you?” you inquired as you took out your wallet.
“Nothing. This is my treat. I’m surprised you finally agreed to hangout with me,” Taehyung smiled as he shifted his weight in his chair.
“What was that lady saying before you ordered?” you tilted your head.
“She uh, was telling me about the daily special,” Taehyung lied.
“No she wasn’t. I was right next to you, Taehyung. Am I the coffee shop girl?” you teased, delighted that the tables have turned. 
“I mean you are a girl and you do work in a coffee shop. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re THE coffee shop girl…” Taehyung was flustered. 
“Is this a date or are we just hanging out?” you pressed further. 
“Which would you like it to be?” Taehyung retorted.
“I asked first,” you countered.
“I guess I can’t argue with that. I would prefer this to be a date. But since you hate me I’d happily settle for us just hanging out,” he admitted. 
“I wouldn’t say that I hate you…” you trailed off.
“Oh really? Then why do you always ignore me and only talk to me to boss me around. I find that hot by the way, but we don’t have to get into that right now,” he smirked. 
“I...I don’t know. Your face always bothered me I suppose,” you answered thoughtfully. 
“My face?” Taehyung burst out into a fit of laughter, “___, am I so ugly that you just can’t stand being around me?”
“The opposite actually. Oh what the hell, we’re here anyway. You’re so goddamn handsome it’s aggravating. You’re so nice it’s unnerving. And when you talk to me it’s like you’ve known me forever. If I didn’t act so cold towards you I would’ve fallen for you so easily,” you finally got everything off of your chest.  
An awkward silence filled the room and you began to regret coming clean. The owner came by with the burgers and you noticed the ketchup was done in the shape of a heart.
“Damn,” was all that Taehyung replied after a while.
You silently nodded as you bit into your burger. 
“I’m glad I kept bugging you then. I thought you were a cutie during orientation. I knew you weren’t actually a bitch because I’ve seen the way you interact with people who aren’t me. You’re such a sweetheart. Also please don’t think I’m a creep for watching you at work sometimes,” he chuckled. 
“I’m sorry for being so cold towards you. I’m not really good with processing emotions and all that,” you blushed, “But now that everything's out in the open, I’d be willing to let my walls down I guess.” 
“Sure. We can take it one date at a time. And maybe you could actually talk to me at work?” Taehyung gave you big puppy eyes.
“Maybe. I’ll see what I can do,” you failed to suppress a smile.
Kim Taehyung might not be too shabby after all.
Published August 9th, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.
61 notes · View notes
hellreads · 5 years ago
Note
what are some of the most filthiest fics you've ever read?
this is the HARDEST ASK I have received so far, I spaced out after seeing this ask trying to recall every single filthy fic I ever read because there’s a lot but I will only be adding three fics per member for this ask, now, what I consider filthy may not be your cup of tea or may seem vanilla to y’all but to each their own, btw filthy to me includes threesomes to gangbangs because we’re weak for double penetration in this house, a lot of cum play and sloppy seconds, dirty talk, degradation, and more ~ by more I mean feelings, I need to feel something before drowning me in good explicit smut but I like pwps too lol, anyway, enough of my ramblings let’s get to the list! | 🍒
NOTE: please check all tags and warnings before reading a fic, read any of these at your own risk!
Tumblr media
TOP PICKS
❥ The Hills by @minflix➴ Ski-Trip/Vacation!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Hoseok | Series➴ A ski trip with old friends sounds like a fun time, right?when your ex-boyfriend (who you hate but somehow always end up in bed with) and your stepbrother (who you are harboring not-so-secret feelings for) tag along at the last minute, you have a feeling it won’t be an uneventful weekend.but fun? debatable. that remains to be seen.
❥ Pour Up by jungxkook (deactivated/story no longer here on tumblr)➴ Fuckboy/Fratboy!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ You like to pretend you hate Jungkook and Taehyung but sleeping with both of them doesn’t sound so terrible especially when you’re drunk and faded.
❥ Extreme Obsession by saylilirose➴ Psychological/Yandere!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ In life, you meet one person that you live and grow old with. 
You? You meet seven. 
But your love? Non-existent. 
But theirs? Real…and obsessive.
Which turns deadly and dangerous. 
Without hesitation.➴ NOTE: this story contains heavy/dark/taboo themes and this isn’t for everyone, make sure you read all tags and warnings before starting this fic, you’ve been warned.
Tumblr media
Kim Namjoon
❥ Miss Communication by @dovechim➴ Poly!AU | Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ Poly relationships can be complicated. especially one where there’s an established hierarchy, and someone decides to break the rules. in a series of miscommunications between your boyfriends, you find yourself being the conveyor of peace and something else that isn’t quite what you expected. 
❥ Tigerboy by @joonbird➴ Hybrid!AU | Namjoon x Reader | One-Shot➴ “You, a docile rabbit hybrid, have been waiting a long time to meet the mysterious tiger hybrid, Kim Namjoon.”
❥ Criminal by @teawithkpop➴ Criminal/Police!AU | Namjoon x Reader x Yoongi x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ Namjoon is a wanted criminal, and he decides he wants you to be his ‘last meal’ before he’s booked.
Kim Seokjin
❥ The Devil Wears Armani by @floralseokjin➴ Devil!AU | Seokjin x Reader | Series➴ You never imagined accidentally attempting to sell your soul to the devil would lead to this…
❥ Off-Limits by @floralseokjin➴ Brother’s Bestfriend!AU | Seokjin x Reader | Series➴ You’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…
❥ In The Bleak Midwinter by @pcyheartgirlx➴ Idol/Escort!AU | Seokjin x Reader x Chanyeol | Series➴ We’re all whores, we just sell different parts of ourselves.
You own a multi-billion dollar company, servicing the biggest names in kpop, in more ways than one. Under the name “Starlight Catering”, you, your best friends, Damon and Maya, and your hundreds of workers provide stress relief for idols.
You have partially retired, not because you didn’t want to, but because Chanyeol was your muse. He was all that you had time for and all you needed. Until Jin came along.
So what happens when you mix fire and ice?
You get smoke and all the lines are blurred.
Min Yoongi (hardest list to make, I have a lot of good Yoongi filth T_T)
❥ Zelus by bumblexfox➴ Sugar Daddy/Lovers!AU | Yoongi x Reader | One-Shot➴ Yoongi becomes jealous when your close friend Jungkook puts his hands all over you right infront of his face. So, Yoongi decides to make sure you know who you really belong to.
❥ Dead Leaves by wrienne➴ Detective!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Jimin | Series➴ In which you (reader) are a homicide detective about to face the biggest hurdle both of your career and life.
Married to probably the kindest but most boring man you’ve ever met and living in a town where nothing ever seems to happen means life for you is dull. Dull enough to drive you crazy with boredom and dissatisfaction. However, life changes abruptly when your old boss retires and a new man takes his place - a man you used to love (and sleep very regularly with) more than a decade ago. Especially when your husband comes home smelling of perfume, you’re unable to resist your more carnal urges and dead women start showing up across the city with unnerving frequency.
❥ Hyung, Open the Door by @gotmetalkinginmysleep➴ Idol!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Taehyung x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ You’ve been keeping the boys awake with your moaning for months thanks to Yoongi. Tae and Jungkook want to find out why.
Jung Hoseok 
❥ Flight 18 by @noona-la-la-la➴ Idol!AU | Hoseok x Reader | One-Shot➴ Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul. You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat. Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.
❥ See Both Sides Like Chanel by @minflix➴ Rich Kids/FWB!AU | Namjoon x Reader x Hoseok | One-Shot➴ You, Namjoon, and Hoseok are inseparable. Three best friends that grew up together since you were all in diapers.
But lately, Namjoon has been drifting away…
So on his birthday, you and Hoseok remind him just how inseparable the three of you really are.
⤷ or alternatively: a little less twenty-one candles, a little more “touch me”
❥ Langour by @littlemisskookie➴ Step-Siblings!AU | Hoseok x Reader | One-Shot➴ Hoseok’s got a lust-driven thirst for his step sister.
Park Jimin
❥ Sharing is Caring by @littlemisskookie➴ Prostitution!AU | Seokjin x Reader x Jimin | One-Shot➴ Jin graciously decides to loan you to handsome Park Jimin for the night.
❥ Power Play by @dovechim➴ Pornstar!AU | Jimin x Reader | One-Shot➴ You know him as the A-lister of all porn stars; a man who sits pretty in his place at the top of the food chain. But you also know him as the Park Jimin who single-handedly humiliated you and ruined your own career as a rookie just starting out, the epitome of the biggest dick in the entire industry… and you’re not talking about his assets. But when Park Jimin comes to you, saying he’s in a slump that only you can get him out of and begs you to sign an exclusive contract with him; things get messy… in more ways than one.
❥ Neighbors by @jkeuphoriadreamland➴ Neighbors!AU | Jimin x Reader | Series➴ Finally achieving your successes in life you never expected the distraction that came with your new hot neighbor. He, however, had been trying to get your attention for a much different reason.
Kim Taehyung & Jeon Jungkook (because majority of my fave filth includes these two ~ I am breaking the 3 fics list for them because I can dsjkhfkjasdhf)
❥ Clandestine by @ditzymax➴ Assassin!AU | Taehyung x Named OC x Jungkook | Series➴  As a professional assassin, Kim Kinsoo has many shrouded secrets in her life. Some of them she shares openly with her loving boyfriend, but there are other things he must never know.
❥ Shameless by @imaginethisbts➴ Voyeurism/Exhibitionism!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ Taehyung’s the new guy in town, just trying to make some friends. And when Jungkook invites him to a party, he thinks he’s finally gotten a good opportunity to meet some new people. But what he doesn’t expect is witnessing his new friend Jungkook and his girlfriend, you, getting it on in front of him, and all of the other guys, at this so-called party. 
❥ When You Least Expect It by @johobi➴ F2L/Lovers!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last-ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.
❥ Stealing the Bite by @wildernessuntothemselves➴ Supernatural!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ In a world populated by the supernatural, witches were the most despised and mistrusted of creatures. Everyone desired to make use of their powers but no one was willing to be seen openly conferring with them. And so there came to pass a heinous practice: Small covens of witches were isolated and kept under wraps in every kingdom, to be utilized when needed, and kept under close watch to prevent them from rebelling. 
Growing up in a kingdom ruled by werewolves, abuse and scorn were a fact of life, but you were determined to put an end to it. You devised a devious plan to gain power, and it involved a certain prince.
❥ The Doms Next Door by @tatertotthethot➴ Poly/Tattoo!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ In which you unknowingly accept the offer to become a tattoo model for the two, sexually-crazed men next door.
❥ Maid for You by @forgottenpasta➴ Idol!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ As Bangtan’s dorm maid you’re expected to be professional, your identity anonymous. Until Jeongguk finds you on your knees beside his bed, with his rolex in your hand.
❥ Into Temptation by coconutty➴ Demon!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ It was just a dare…
❥ Lust and Errors by @imaginethisbts➴ Step-Siblings!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ Stepbrother, fuck buddy… They were one and the same now. But what started out as some mindless fucking game, quickly turns into something much more difficult and complex.
❥ What’s Mine is Mine by @avveh➴ Idol!AU | Jungkook x Reader | One-Shot ➴ You caught his eye from day one. As far as Jungkook was concerned, you were always meant to be his.
❥ This Isn’t Love Darling by @junqkook➴ Mafia/Escort!AU | Jungkook x Reader | One-Shot➴ He tasted of an empty night and an eclipsing moon, with blood on his hands and fire in his eyes when he put his mouth on yours.
❥ Illicit Photography by @jkeuphoriadreamland➴ University/Photography!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ You’re a well respected university professor who assigns a portfolio project to your photography students, but your best student, Jungkook, doesn’t follow the rules very well.
❥ My Way by @ellieljade➴ Fuckbuddy!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ Jungkook doesn’t appreciate your boyfriend’s insistence that he stop sleeping with you and he knows just how to prove that you like it his way.
OT7
❥ Moth to Flame by @bang-to-the-tan➴ Vampire!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ Robbed of your memories and intended as a birthday present for a deadly creature of the night, you unwittingly become the center of a territorial dispute between two covens of vampires. Tensions are rising and the brothers are getting hungry.
❥ Void by @btssavedmylifeblr➴ Space!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ You are the only female crew member on a 12-year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.
❥ Temptation Series by @yminie➴ Idol!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ Sleeping Temptation : Yoongi and Jimin come home to find you asleep on the couch. To say they were happy they beat the other members back would be an understatement.
➴ Waking Temptation : Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon are home, and you’re not asleep anymore.
➴ Sweeter Temptation : After an eventful evening, it’s the morning after and Jin’s there to take care of you.
➴ Breaking Temptation : Jungkook ditches movie night for other activities, and you’re not impressed.
❥ Seven Deadly Sins by @mintedmango➴ Demon!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ You stood suddenly, chair being pushed away by the backs of your legs, the rest of the sins standing with you as you looked around in panic. All except Sloth who was out cold in the corner.“Oh, little pet, indeed, I am still hungry.”
❥ Physcom by @teawithkpop➴ Idol!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ AU where live-in Physical Companions are provided to k-pop groups so the members can relieve their sexual related stress and tension - around their busy schedules, of course. You are one such “PhysCom”. However, complications arise when the BTS members start harboring romantic feelings for you. Feelings you’re not sure you can reject with any believable amount of conviction. Such a scandal could result in getting both you and them fired and exposed, ruining any future career options for all parties involved… it turns out the “com” in PhysCom might as well stand for complications.
❥ Cum by @honeymoonjin➴ Idol!AU | OT7 x Reader | Two-Shot➴ An episode of Run! BTS in which the seven members compete to see who can make you cum first.
❥ The Gentlemen’s Club by @brookelegend➴ Club!AU | OT7 x Reader (Hobi-Centric) | Series➴ You’ve been in a dating drought, more specifically, a sex drought. Your best friend has the perfect remedy for your problem: The Gentlemen’s Club.
Tumblr media
435 notes · View notes
dressedindustandshadows · 5 years ago
Text
Crescent City Review
My book review is finally here! 😂 @highladyofstoriesandmusic @dawnblaze23
Right off the bat I think crescent city may just be my favourite Sarah J Maas book. It was a combination of me reading the book at the perfect time and the fact that Bryce and Danika are the characters I have most related to out of all Sarahs worlds.This book was sexy 😉 and fun and action packed and inspiring✨! 
I definitely recommend this book but do be warned it has a slow beginning but quickly becomes addicting. I personally found once I got the audiobook I powered through it in less then a week.
P.S. I really loved this book so if you’ve made any art or anything related to it please feel free to tag me💕
Bellow the cut will be a spoiler review so continue at your own risk ☺️
So before I get into it, shout out to Hypaxia for being a QUEEN (both literally and figuratively)
Before we delve deep into the characters lets talk plot. I enjoyed the investigation, I know many people thought it was pointless but it's what drew our main characters closer and I loved seeing that. I honestly was shocked by the multiple plot twists, I didn’t really have a suspect and when we found out it was Danika?! I was shocked. And also broken. How hard that must have been for her. I honestly hate Micah so much for putting her through that.
Character time!!
So first off and obviously my favourite if you’ve been following me for a little while but CONNOR HOLSTROM! Ugh! We deserved more of that beauty (or at least I did lo). Although I like Hunt, Connor was everything to me. I don’t think that he should’ve been endgame with Bryce but if I found a Connor in real life I would be hopping on that bandwagon like now.
Now Danika. Danika and I have had a strange relationship. In the beginning I was very iffy of her. I didn’t trust the Danika that was put on a pedestal by Bryce, I thought there had to be more. When Hunts theory about Danika was exposed my heart broke for Bryce. I know exactly how it feels for this person you thought you knew change completely. And then when Micah admitted the truth about what he did it all made sense. I finally understood and loved Danika. She is the person that will fight you if you hurt her friends but cry over a puppy in pain, she is a bad bitch when needed but believes in the quote ‘through love all is possible’. It was powerful for me to read about a character like this because people have constantly told me I can’t be outgoing and ready to fight you if you get on my bad side but also love cute poetry and sappy songs, Danika proved them wrong and showed me who I can be. It hurts to know that the little piece of Danikas soul was given up for Bryce but I know it only strengthens her character.
Bryce I also related to, not because of her personality as I did with Danika but instead the way she grieved. I was in a very dark place similar to Bryce and I rose up just like she did, but it was hard and I know that first hand. So the only thing I can say is how proud I am of her.
The controversial topic of this book, Hunt and Bryce, will they last? Personally I think yes. They have both been in relationships with a deep, consuming love and others without it so they aren’t each others firsts (which I think is super important because it is unlikely the first person you fall in love with will be the last). Next, yes they both are grieving in extreme ways, but I do not think their relationship was built out of need for anyone. The grief just made them understand each other better because I know many people who just don’t get it. I liked that it wasn’t just romance between them, they became friends that told each other everything before they realised it could be more. I did hate Hunt for lying but I understood the heartache between choosing his friends or his love, and I hate to say it but I think he was manipulated… I don’t know about you but to me Shahar seemed abusive. I could definitely be wrong but from what I interpreted she took advantage of a man who struggled with where he fit in and turned him into someone with a vendetta. I think their cause was legit and I support it but some of the things Hunt said made me question whether or not his love was used for her purposes? and perhaps that belief still followed him to this day.
Im going to miss Lehabah, she brought a smile to my face every time she was in a chapter, and although I hated that she sacrificed herself I understood it, just like how I understood Danika’s sacrifice.
I don’t have much to say about Ruhn, I didn't hate him but I significantly liked him a lot more towards the end. Same with Fury. We didn’t see enough of Juniper I thought to get an in-depth feel to her character.
Because I love you I'm going to now remind you of scenes that broke us all 😙💕
Lehabah saying she will not be afraid
Hunts wings being cut off
The pack of devils waving to Bryce from the bone quarter
That phone call between Bryce and Hunt
Finding out what happened from Micah
“Close your eyes Danika’
“I believe it wasn’t for nothing”
“Light it up Bryce” - that whole scene at the bottom
Bryce torturing herself with those last messages
Syrinx almost dying
Ithan and the black rose pack in chapter 43
Well now that I'm crying I think that’s enough. I really fucking loved the pack of devils
Thanks for reading my rambling 😩🥰
46 notes · View notes
1dfangirls35 · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Voir Dire (N.H.) A fake dating OU about contracts, soulmates and risking it all for love.
Masterlist // Tell Me What You Think!
twenty-eight
As the elevator ticked past each floor of the Capitol Records building, Niall began to wonder if this would be the last time he would ever step foot in this or any place related to music.
He still remembered the first time he stepped foot in the iconic building- fresh off the One Direction hiatus and unsure what he would be as an artist. His dreams for his solo career just within reach. He was a different person back then. A person that was willing to do whatever it took to make it in the music world and to make a name for himself. A person who believed that Capitol Records was the key to paving a career that fit his dreams perfectly. A person who still believed that the music industry wasn't all bad.
But today was the end of that. He would no longer give up his own relationships, hopes and dreams just because of an image that his label wanted him to portray. He would no longer be letting someone else dictate his life; what he sang, what he wore, who he loved. No today, for perhaps the first time in his career, Niall was going to take charge of his own destiny.
A part of Niall was still scared that something could go wrong. He'd asked Kelsey ten times last night whether she was sure she wanted to go through with this, knowing what might happen if their plan didn't quite go off without a hitch.
Each time he'd asked her, she'd nodded and smiled and told him there's nothing she'd ever been more sure about. Niall knew saying those words was hard for her. He also knew that the smile on her face was constructed with just as much fear as Niall had right now.  But he couldn't be happier to finally be at the place where he and Kelsey could have the life together he'd always dreamed of. Free of contracts and fake girlfriends and manipulation.
Niall didn't wait for Alan Michaels's secretary to greet him when he stepped off the elevator, or for her to notify Mr. Michaels that he had a visitor. Instead he headed full speed towards the double-glass doors of the Capitol executive's office and pushed them open, saying in his strongest, gutsiest voice "We need to talk."
Alan Michaels turned from his computer, snapping his head around to look at Niall with surprise. "Mr. Horan did we have a meeting today?"
"We do now." Niall said forcefully, taking a seat in the chair in front of the desk. He tried to ignore the light shake of his hands as he folded them in his lap, instead taking delight in the fact that Alan Michaels had no idea what was coming for him.
"And what can I do for you today Mr. Horan?" Mr. Michaels asked in a long drawn-out voice, shuffling a stack of papers around on his desktop.  
"Whatever you did to make Kelsey Benton break up with me- I want it nullified," Niall doesn't flinch as he says the words, staring straight into Mr. Michaels dark brown eyes as if they aren't the most intimidating pair he's ever seen.
Niall swears it takes five minutes before words leave Mr. Michaels mouth again, his heartbeat rapid in his ear.
"Excuse me?" Mr. Michaels said his face astonished. "I'm sorry Mr. Horan, I have no idea what you are talking about. Have you been in contact with Miss Benton?"
"Not at all." Niall said, his lips staying in a straight line. "And I've begun to realize that perhaps there is a reason why." Niall wondered if this small fib would be enough to convince Alan Michaels that Kelsey hadn't breeched the conditions of her contract, but even if Michaels suspected he did, there was no proof.
"I can assure you Mr. Horan, what Miss Benton chooses to do in her relationship is entirely under her control. Perhaps she simply decided you weren't the one for her," the lies slipped out of Mr. Michaels mouth with ease, and Niall can see why he has this job. He's good at it. The lying, the manipulating, the convincing. Niall wondered how many other artists have sat in this very spot and been convinced that the label was doing everything in their best interest. How many hearts had been broken, families changed, careers altered all under the power of Alan Michaels and his smug smile. That wouldn't be the case today.
Niall had not expected this to be a simple meeting. He knew Alan Michaels wouldn't admit to meddling in his relationship willingly, so Niall had come prepared with his own pretty little piece of blackmail.
"Let me make myself clear- ALAN," Niall's voice was strong. "I happen to know several journalists who are just a phone call away from releasing an interview with me about my fake relationship with Krystal. I'm sure it would be the talk of LA in a matter of minutes."
Niall watched as Mr. Michaels throat bobbed in a firm swallow, he had his attention now.
"You are under a contract Mr. Horan. These promotional tactics are not to be disclosed to the public."
"And if I chose to tell my fans the truth? That you've hired someone to be my girlfriend over the past year. That the dates, the music video, the "love" was entirely something of your own creation in order to help increase your record sales. That I was forced into this against my will? What would you do then?"
"Well we would have to terminate your contract with Capitol Records. You would no longer be one of our recording artists." The look on Alan Michaels face told Niall that he thought he had given the ultimate threat, but little did Alan Michaels know, that threat was exactly what Niall wanted him to say.
"I bet you'd hate to see that happen wouldn't you? I mean a number one album in 42 countries, a sold-out world tour, some of the most dedicated fans in the universe. There's a lot more where that came from," Niall was taunting him now, and the more Mr. Michaels smug grin transformed into a frown, the more fun Niall was having. He was getting to Alan Michaels, he could tell.
"We would hate to see one of Capitol's best artists leave the label, that's for certain," Mr. Michaels said, his voice now laced with nervousness instead of intimidation.
"So you see the dilemma here? Looks like you are going to have to choose between terminating whatever kind of threat you made with Miss Benton to ensure she didn't ruin your promotional plans or terminating your relationship with one of your most successful artists. I mean if it was me, Alan, I don't think I'd think twice about it. What's the girl to you?" Niall crossed his legs in the chair, staring Mr. Michaels with a soft grin on his face.
Mr. Michaels kept his hand folded. He didn't say anything, Niall thought he was considering it. He didn't even think he'd get this far. He assumed that Alan Michaels would be invincible to manipulation. But today was proof that if you play the right cards, the right threat can convince anyone to change their stance.
Alan Michaels took a deep breath. "Kelsey Benton's contract will be nullified."
"Now," Niall added firmly. He couldn't risk this not going through. Not with what he was about to do next. "You'll let her know now."
Mr. Michaels nodded, picking up his phone. "Samantha, can you get Kelsey Benton on the line for me please?" He hung up, looking Niall in the eyes. The two stare at each other, neither speaking. Until the phone rings again. Niall can only assume its Kelsey on the other line.
"Is this Miss Benton?" Mr. Michaels asked. Niall can't hear Kelsey on the other line, but he pictures her sitting on Niall's couch, still in her pajamas, smiling at the sound of Alan Michaels voice. The thought made a small smile break through Niall's otherwise serious expression.
"This is Alan Michaels with Capitol Records. We've decided to terminate the contract we've signed with you. All I need is your official signature and it's gone forever."
Mr. Michaels hung up the phone, turning to look at Niall expectantly, as if to say 'Happy now'.
"So that's official?" Niall asked, cautious to make any more moves before the pieces were set in place.
"Official as of my signature right now. Miss Benton's signature is mainly a formality. It's as if our agreement never existed."
"Good." Niall nodded, inhaling deeply before saying his next words. "Well now that that's taken care of. I'd like to notify you that I'm officially terminating my contract with Capitol Records."
"But..." Mr. Michaels protested.
"My lawyers have assured me that there is nothing in our current agreement limiting me from telling anyone about what went on here once our contract has been terminated. I'd get your PR team ready, Alan. My fans don't take too lightly to people messing with my life." He stood up, pulling down his charcoal suit jacket and reaching out a hand to shake. "Best of luck with everything."
"But Mr. Horan..." Mr. Michaels seemed to be at a loss for words. "We can work something out, we can come up with a new agreement. I promise you we will not hire anyone for your PR again..." Alan Michaels was stumbling through his words now, but Niall just smiled and made his way towards the office doors.
He walked past Mr. Michaels secretary, who has now stood up, looking towards the office and the still rambling Alan Michaels standing in his office doorway.
"You're going to regret this Mr. Horan!" Mr. Michaels yelled at him as Niall called the elevator.
As the elevator doors dinged open, Niall turned around, facing Alan Michaels one more time. "No Alan, I don't think I will." And with that he stepped inside the elevator, letting the doors close, literally and figuratively, on his time as a Capitol Records recording artist.
Tag List: @awomanindeniall @ihearthemcallingforyou​ , @niall-is-my-dream ,​  @stylishmuser​​​ , @thicksniall
6 notes · View notes
dawnie1988 · 5 years ago
Text
❇Update Redux❇
⚠Possible Triggers Ahead⚠
I’m not positive if this will be anything too graphic or runs too much of a risk of triggering others, but there will be ramblings of melancholy, depressive thoughts and anxiety issues, so I’m going to attempt to put all of this (along with tags to the ones who have been reaching out personally) under a keep reading line just in case.
So let me start by basically repeating what I said last time: I’m still standing, things are easing up a tiny, tiny bit each day (at least for a little bit at a time) and the outpouring of support and concern from everyone, although it really doesn’t surprise me to see coming from any of you, just once again feels me with a feeling I could never accurately describe. It’s both overwhelming and humbling that despite having your own troubles and worries you’re still taking the time to send out check in messages, and I am truly appreciative and thankful for the fact that I was fortunate enough to stumble into this mishmash group of mutuals. Though, given the way my mind always seems to go in a full 50/50 split, it also makes me feels even worse for still not getting back to your guys’ individual messages. I really had every intention of doing it last week when I had made that first post because it honestly felt like I was finally on the upswing again, but then I slid down again and am just really struggling to get my footing this time around and I’m not positive why. I was going through this quite regularly last year but it seemed like it had really eased up for a few months at the start of the year here, or at the very least I had gotten a better handle on sweeping things under the rug and hiding from it again. A really unhealthy way of compartmentalizing, I suppose.I had my random bad days, of course, but not this bad again and not to the point where it was affecting me so much both mentally and physically. Now it just feels like it did when I had a big mental fall around Oct. 2018. Between the daily home life/family life and all the stress and crap on the news being so triggering and nearly impossible to outrun completely, I just feel so overwhelmed with everything and nothing at the same time, it seems, and it’s really got my anxiety on high alert. I’m having the worst time keeping up with household chores, the few times I do have to go out for something I get legitimately scared to walk out the front door and would do just about anything to not have to go out the front door. I’ve currently have 3 moods: gumpy/angry, ready to burst into tears or a mix between the two. I’m spending most of my time that’s not dedicated to my mom curled up under the covers with my headphones on and living in my daydream world just trying to drown the noise in my head out because the thoughts and worry just will never slow down at the moment unless I’m asleep but then I’m instantly on edge and feel like I’m ready to crawl out of my skin as soon as I’m awake. Everything, even the few things I actually want to do just seem like such a massive hassle and chore, which activates the ‘you’re basically a glorified babysitter who lucked out into getting paid to sit around home all day, what time are you taking out of your schedule?…..’. I wake up in the morning and even if there’s nothing that needs to be done for the day except for my mom’s daily care, I still am instantly struck with that ‘too much to do, not enough time to do it’ panic and then that instantly morphs into the dreaded circling the drain cycle of thoughts: stop being so lazy, what’s it gonna hurt you to take 5mins to say hello to people, the place needs to be cleaned, laundry is piling up, get off your ass and do something, you’ve already screwed up the day so what’s the point of even bothering now, all the people in the world who have it so much worse off at the moment - having to worry about how they’re gonna feed their families and keep a roof over their heads, etc. etc. and you’re whining about, what, exactly?’.  And it’s like, I know none of what’s going on with anyone else devalues my own thoughts and feelings and I’m being completely unfair to myself by comparing myself to others like that, but I can’t help it. I’m much better at giving out the positive, 'you’re valid and you matter’ speech then I am at receiving it myself.
I do know and understand that a lot of this is stress based and has a lot to do with not having a clear outlet to pour all this negativity into or a place to let go of all the troubling thoughts when they pile up too high, but since I’ve had nothing but time to be thinking about all of this, I also think a big chunk of this was brought on by my birthday. It was the week before when all this first started acting up again and the week of (April 15th) where things really just hit a nose dive. The last handful of birthdays for me have become the equivalent of New Years for me. It’s like, a full day to celebrate and highlight all the things I haven’t accomplished over the course of the year, and a reminder of all the things that feel like I won’t get the chance to do and then it just starts me down another rabbit hole of self pity and bitterness and resentment. And the thing is, I know plenty of things I could do to help myself, but the reality of my home life being what it is I just don’t know how or see a way to do any of those things without seriously screwing over my family, primarily financially. 
Sooo……yeah, that’s basically the jist of things right now and the best way I can explain my current head space. I know you’ll all tell me not to, but I’m gonna apologize for the long winded rant/rambling anyways. I always have such a hard time trying to explain this stuff because I feel like my thoughts contradict each other so much and even after redoing this post 3 times today, I still feel like it’s just a jumbled mess of words, so I hope it’s understandable.
Once again, I have to give a big thank you to the group below for taking the time to check in and offering help of all kinds, it really is priceless.
@fangirlxwritesx67 @flamencodiva @itmighthavebeenintentional @boondoctorwho @winchest09 @katehuntington @thoughtslikeaminefield​
Tumblr media
You guys (along with all the other lovelies I follow and interact with) really have become the brightest light in my life. Between the amazing content you constantly put out and just talking, having fun fangirling and fanboying with each other and ogling over pretty people and the over all family community everyone has created with each other, it all really is the thing that brings me the most joy these days. I miss it and all the wonderful stories I’m beyond behind on, and this is me hoping I can get back to it the way I want to sooner rather than later. I truly adore you all and thank you for the kind words and encouragement ♥️
14 notes · View notes