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bluestar22x · 2 months ago

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Welcome To The Good Times

The Writing Contest - Chapter 8: Welcome To The Good Times

Summary: Nora and Javi celebrate his birthday

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female!OC (Nora Delaine)

Rating: 18+ Series

Word Count: 2,000(ish)

Warnings: Fluff, romance, a tiny bit of spice

Author’s Note: This is one of two chapters I hope to get done this month so look out for chapter 9 in the next week or so. If all goes as planned, it should be done by then. No promises.

xxx

Any news from Walter? you texted Javi.

It has only been a day cariño, he texted back and you huffed to yourself before you tapped the letters on your phone screen once more.

I know, I know, I'm just excited.

You and Javi had just finished another script together, this one lightly based off of how you and Javi had met. So lightly that all that they had in common was that the male love interest was a writer that made a writing contest and the main character won it. Everything else was different. The guy was an author of books; not scripts, and the main characters fell in love while writing a novel together.

The latter was also sort of true, you guessed. You hadn't voiced it yet, but you were pretty sure you were in love with Javi, and you were fairly confident he was in love with you, but maybe nervous about saying it so early into your romantic relationship. After all, that was why you hadn't said it yet.

Me too, though I am more excited to see you, Javi wrote back.

You grinned. Charmer.

How soon until you get here? he asked.

You climbed the steps to his front porch and knocked on the door instead of texting back.

It took him a few moments, but as soon as he saw it was you on the other side of his mansion's front door he quickly opened it and pulled you into a crushing hug. You secretly loved it.

"You were already here!" he exclaimed, keeping a hand on your jaw as he stepped back. "Sneaky, querida."

"I wanted to surprise you," you told him. "Everyone should have at least one surprise on their birthday."

"Best one I've gotten in ages," he declared.

"Only in ages?" You were curious what you were competing with.

"I got many big surprises for my childhood birthdays," Javi told you. "None matched the theater room my father made for me when I turned thirteen."

"Oh, I cannot compete with that," you said jokingly, but he tipped your chin up so your eyes met.

"You cannot compete because you are above it," he murmured.

You blushed even as a broad smile spread across your face and he beamed back at you before leaning in to capture your mouth in a sweet kiss.

You kissed him back equally sweetly until he released you after a long heated moment.

"So what do you wanna do tonight?" you inquired.

"I was thinking we go see a movie at the theater in town," he answered. "And afterwards we could walk around. I don't believe you've seen the town at night."

"I didn't think there was a night life."

"It's nothing wild," he told you, "But it is charming. I would like to share it with you."

"Anything for the birthday boy," you said, your lips pulling into a crooked smile.

Javi surprised you by picking one of the latest box office hits to watch in the local cinema, a romantic action flick about two assassins from enemy countries who fall in love.

It was pretty good, but you both were distracted by each other during the film. You honestly felt like a teenager all over again, sharing glances with him and trying to ignore the arm he'd flung over the back of your seat for a time.

You had split a big bowl of popcorn and passed it back and forth between you more times than you'd bothered to count and it went well until Javi knocked his elbow into it. You gasped as the remaining popcorn in the bowl went airborne, and you clamped your hands over your mouth to muffle a giggle.

Javi flushed. "Seems I am a clumsy celebrant."

He plucked one of the wayward pieces of popcorn off your head and tossed it into his mouth, making you giggle harder.

His embarrassed expression shifted into one of adoration at the sound. "I would make a fool of myself a million times over to hear you laugh," he admitted and you locked eyes with him, a disbelief on your face until you were sure he meant it.

Of course he did, but he was not the reason you had a difficult time believing it, nor why you felt so unworthy of it.

You slipped your hand into his without a word and you both turned back to the movie, just in time to watch its final spectacular action sequence.

After the movie you and Javi wandered the town in the early night, your hands still interlocked.

He pointed out his favorite locations to get a steak, ice cream, his writing supplies. He also warned you about a bar with patrons who were rowdy and sometimes even dangerous. He clearly spent a lot of time there when he wasn't busy with a script or visiting you in LA.

You paid attention to every word he said, knowing he did the same for you, but it wasn't until you got to the very center of town that you got excited about your exploration.

"Is that a carousel?" you asked, eyes lighting up as it clearly came into view.

Covered in gold paint and highlighted with golden lights in the early dark, the carousel spun at a good pace, not too fast or slow, as its beautifully sculpted horses rose up and down on the platform underneath them. There were mostly blacks and grays, but some bays and paints and a palomino had been included as well.

The speakers were playing mystical sounding music, like one you'd imagine a magical forest to have if it had instrumental music, and several children were shouting in glee as they clung to their mounts.

It took you back to your youth. To simpler times. It made you smile.

"I used to love riding carousels when I was little," you told Javi wistfully. "I loved a good thrill ride depending on how scary it actually was - I didn't like them too scary - but carousels were what I loved most. It was a calm thrill, the sweeping movements of the horses felt like I was riding waves. Haven't been able to ride one in two decades. The fair that used to come near my hometown was declared unsafe by the locals so they stopped coming. All because one kid's hair got pulled on a ride they specifically warned shouldn't be ridden without tying up long hair first."

"You should ride then," Javi said, "Take the opportunity."

You shook your head. "Carousels are for kids."

"No es cierto," he argued. "Adults can be young at heart. We should not have to lose something we love just because we grow old. They have been included in many romance movies, including one actually named Carousel, for a reason."

You glanced over at him and back to the ride, but remained in place. It had been instilled in you so long ago that it was strange for adults to hop on without kids of their own in tow. Small town minds and all. It was difficult to get it out of your head.

Javi released your hand as the ride came to a halt and handed the ride operator enough money to cover a turn for both you and him. He waved you over as he jumped onto the circular platform all the while you just watched.

"Come, cariño!" he shouted over the music encouragingly. "Do it for me if you must."

You glanced around and headed towards him. It was his birthday. How could you refuse?

Once your feet were on the platform you studied the horses around you, a wonderfully detailed red fawn and white marked pinto with a tucked head and open mouth catching your eye.

You grinned and went to it like it was calling you, climbing on top of its back and letting your hands run over its wild mane before grasping the brass pole between its shoulders.

Javi stepped up next to it as you got comfortable, placing one of his hands on your jean clad thigh as the ride started back up with its fresh batch of passengers on board.

None of them were near you and Javi, so you could easily imagine you were the only ones on the ride. It made it easier to focus on how intimately close his impressive hand was to a frontier it had not yet explored and you had a difficult time paying attention to the ride's movements as the breezy night air turned hot.

You avoided his gaze and tried to redirect your attention to the ride, knowing you wouldn't be able to bail for another couple minutes. Might as well enjoy what you can in the moment and think about other stuff later.

Soon the joy the ride had always brought you in your childhood returned to you like a long time friend. It was freeing. Enough for you to want to shut your eyes and feel the wind in your hair, and so you did.

When the ride began slowing down again you opened them again and realized you hadn't heard Javi speak in that time. It was unusual for him, quiet. He rarely went long without speaking unless he was focused on something or asleep.

Your eyes found him again, and he was still beside you, smiling as widely as you had been. "You look like a goddess on this beast," he declared as he put his free hand on the horse's arched neck. "Divine."

Your face heated again. "Now you're overselling it."

Javi helped you down and cupped your face. "I promised I would never lie to you again, hermosa. I mean every word I say."

You kissed him then, eagerly, his sincerity crumbing the last of the walls surrounding your heart. It felt as freeing as the carousel. Maybe...

"Let's go back to your place early," you murmured into his ear.

He hummed seemingly in agreement and followed you when you led him away from the ride, but he stopped you halfway to his car. "As much as I would like nothing more than for you to stay the night for a romantic evening, I want our first time to be special for you. The way you talk I do not think you've had that before, no?"

"It will be special," you said surely, but still he hesitated.

"What is it?" you questioned. "Did you have something in mind?"

The thought of him having planned out your first time together made your stomach flip in a good way.

He looked unsure of how to answer you, probably worried that you might think of him differently if he said yes.

"I've thought about it too, Javi," you assured him and his eyes shot up to yours. "It's okay. More than okay."

"It's two weeks away, but I thought we could wait until our boat trip at the start of August." He frowned. "Is that too long?"

You slung your arms around his neck and shook your head. "Of course not. If that's what you want, that's what I want."

You were curious what he had in mind.

He tipped his head to press his lips to yours again and for a moment you really wished you hadn't agreed to wait. What were you going to do with yourself for two weeks? All you'd be able to think about was that Saturday approaching. What it would entail.

"Thank you, mi amor," Javi whispered as he parted from you.

"That's a new one," you mused. "What does it mean?"

He ran a thumb along the edge of your cheekbone and studied your face as he spoke. "It means my love."

You beamed at him, your delight impossible to deny. "Je t'aime aussi."

It was Javi's turn to be confused. He raised a brow, expression curious. "And what does that mean?"

"It's French for I love you too," you replied, leaning in for a third kiss.

Javi met you in the middle, and you could feel a smile tugging on his lips before your mouths clashed.

July did not pass fast enough.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

#Javi Gutierrez #The Unbearable Weight Of Massive Talent #Javi G Fanfic (Mine)#OC Fanfic #The Writing Contest Series

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tinyetoile · 2 years ago

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Ty for the correction on the misinformation about Ken Penners. Also if you are ever open I would LOVE to hear your insights into how botw link's stoicism in response to his trauma detracts from Zelda's characterisation?

(personally I always found that it sold the isolation between the two of them more. He can barely even express his emotions towards her. She is reaching out, she is trying so damn hard, and yet he cannot reach out to meet her. Just like with her father. Just like with the goddess. She tries the best she can, and it is just NEVER enough.)

(I also think this is why post awakening Link is more expressive in what we see of him being expressive - he doesn't have all his memories back, he isn't living constantly with the knowledge that if he slips he'll fail. It's why BOTW link succeeds where his last self failed - He's no longer terrified of feeling. Of reaching out. Zelda reaches out to him, and she succeeds. She talks to him, she guides him, and together they achieve victory. Despite everything, despite all the failure and the pain, they succeed.)

(like don't get me wrong it's not Spirit Tracks w/ Zelda literally possessing a phantom in order to protect Link, and Link being SO excited to drive a train for her, but like. Idk I would love to hear your side bc you always have such insightful thoughts and I really respect and value your opinions, esp on this stuff!!)

(also spirit tracks is the best loz game bc it let Zelda just fuckin. Chill out. She just hung out w/ link it's great. They just vibe at the train)

LOL part of my motivation for correcting the Ken Penders thing is that usually when I see people "correct" it, they ALSO attribute it to the wrong person? Like I'll see people say "Ian Flynn designed Scourge!" but while he WAS the writer for the issue where Scourge came to be, he wasn't the one who came up with the design- that was Patrick.

I also don't play Sonic. Why I know these things is beyond me. As for the Zelda thing, well...

I ended up taking a lil while to reply to this because I was having trouble getting my thoughts in order about it and putting those thoughts into words. I wanna preface this by saying: I absolutely agree with your angle here, and one of my main problems (personally) is that I simultaneously know what they were trying to do with the characters, while also not having that come across to me in the moment at all.

Because like, I genuinely think that Link's muteness and stoicism being a trauma response is an incredible idea. It's a genius way to incorporate his "silent protagonist" schitck in-universe, and provides depth to his character in doing so. However, the problem is that in execution, it doesn't come across that way.

The best comparison I can come up with is how, when the hunger games movies came out, everyone was complaining about the lead actress's performance and how she never emoted, but in actuality she was giving a very book accurate performance- Katniss was the type of character who never showed her emotions on her face. And this was fine in the books, but when the medium was changed to film, rather than having that come across, people just thought the acting was bad.

That's the same feeling that Link's stoicism gives me, the way it's presented comes across as less "forcing himself to silently bear these burdens and never let them show to anyone so he can be a pillar of strength" and more "no thoughts head empty while other people are talking".

And the reason I think this detracts from Zelda's character is because I think one of the two big yardsticks for measuring Zelda's quality as a character is: how well the game sells her relationship with Link (not in a romantic sense btw). I don't inherently ship the two, and will thus not be interested in their relationship simply because they're Link and Zelda. I need to be convinced on a bond between them every new incarnation. But the reason it's Zelda's character that's dependant on this is because Link is the player character that we spend time with, so even if he's completely nothing, we still get attached to him by virtue of having him be how we interact with the world. But Zelda is restricted to her interactions with Link, or at least what Link sees of her, so even if Zelda has tons of character, if I'm not convinced on her relationship with Link, makes her feel worse to me.

This is why I think ST Zelda and SS Zelda are the best ones: They convince you that Link and Zelda are friends, that they care about eachother, that they enjoy eachother's company, that they'd hang out even outside of their assigned roles as "Hero" and "Princess", and it's Link's reactions to her that sell it.

In ST, they start out as strangers, but you spend the entire game watching them grow closer to eachother, become friends, and what makes it work is that it's not JUST Zelda who's selling you on this relationship, it's Link's reactions to her, the little laugh he gives after she possesses a Phantom for the first time, their amazing silly high-five after beating Byrne, the way his first reaction after having her land on him was to smile because she'd gotten her body back- can you imagine how weird the game would feel if Link never emoted?

In SS, this incarnation of Link is easily the most expressive "adult" Link, and they use this to show you how much he cares for Zelda. You IMMEDIATELY know what his relationship with her is like from the way he smiles at her wake-up letter alone. Even if the game didn't tell you they're childhood friends, you'd be able to know because the nature of their relationship comes through in every single interaction they have with one another.

Meanwhile in BotW, they tried SO HARD to give Zelda depth and these interesting aspects to her character and her relationship to her role as a princess, and then her interactions with Link fall flat and it drags her down so badly, especially because this relationship is supposed to be the focal point of the game. It ruins the entire climax of the final memory, where watching Link die unlocks her powers, because their relationship feels hollow to me, and as a result it makes Zelda feel weirdly... callous in this moment? Instead of coming across as desperation, as actually witnessing the atrocities of the calamity firsthand and finally tapping into her power because of it, I was left wondering if Zelda just didn't care about anybody outside of her assigned love interest at franchise. Which is absolutely not what I should have been feeling or what was trying to be conveyed, but was the taste the scene leaves in my mouth regardless.

I think what it ultimately boils to is: I really fucking hate the cutscene where Link saves Zelda from the Yiga, because that's where I think the ball was dropped. Allow me to explain. More than anything else, what should have been a massive turning point in Zelda's feelings for Link as they change from animosity to seeing him a new light, just comes across as hetero trite, where the writers just shortcut to "these characters are in love now" because one is a boy and the other is a girl so OBVIOUSLY we're supposed to assume a romance between them. It's like Zelda suddenly remembered they're supposed to be love interests because Link... did his job. Being her guard is his job, and protecting her like that is the reason he was following her around beforehand even when she didn't like it. It makes it feel like Zelda somehow never realized she was in danger before or something??? This image from OSP's romantic subplot trope talk almost perfectly encapsulates what I mean here:

The moment that SHOULD have been the turning point to their relationship should have been a moment where Zelda sees Link not acting as her stoic knight, a moment where she sees beneath the front he's put up to protect himself and realize they might actually be able to get along and that she's been projecting onto him and being harsh. Because Link being a seemingly flawless knight is one of the causes of her own insecurities and why she can't stand him at first, so having Link perfectly embodying that idea should not be what makes her fall for him!!! It should be the opposite! I hate this cutscene so much!

And even though the rest of the memories are spent trying to build this relationship, the fact that this was what made Zelda go from hard tsun to instant dere just sours the rest of their interactions for me. Not to mention the implication, if you get all the memories, that after everything Link just... goes back to being Zelda's silent, stoic knight? Which feels worse the more I think about it.

This probably ended up pretty incoherent and I'm also probably wrong about a lot of things, but the main thing is that, while I understand (and even like!) what they intended to do with Link and Zelda in theory, it doesn't come across (TO ME) in practice, so the whole thing is at odds with itself in my head. In the end I'm pretty sure this is just a me problem though, and probably me trying to rationalize why a character I should, by all rights, really like, just doesn't click for some reason.

BTW somewhat off topic but the second yardstick I have for measuring the quality of Zeldas is "how divorced is she from being a dignified princess" because the less dignified Zelda is, the better. ST is another good, emblematic one here because Zelda's freak-out completely shatters any such perception of her and immediately makes you attached to her, while her predecessor Tetra kinda falls flat in the last part of WW because the instead she transforms from "Tetra" to "Zelda" she immediately loses all of her character and becomes a demure dignified princess who waits to be kidnapped by Ganondorf (though thankfully she recovers some of her personality in the final battle and for the sequel). This is also why I don't care for TP Zelda as said before: We don't see her outside of her capacity as "dignified princess", though that's also because she has like five minutes of screentime, three of which are spent on exposition.

Even more off topic but man, it really sucks that WW and ST are the only games that have Zelda actually fight the final boss alongside you? I'm so shocked that this didn't immediately become the series standard for every game afterwards because it's so good.

Sorry for all this negativity, but also thank you so much for allowing me to exorcise this demon from my body.

#loz ramblings #negative #obviously these are all just my personal experiences and so on #i know that im an outlier here with how i interpreted things #i will stand by that link doing his job as a bodyguard should not have been what made zelda change her thoughts on him tho #i made myself hungry writing all this LMAO

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6lostgirl6 · 2 years ago

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Hey bestie could you please do some Eric Draven dating head canons when you open your requests back up!!!?

I headcanon that Eric never died at the end of the film, he’s basically like Batman and watches over Detroit in order to remove criminals, permanently, and keep the city safe. So in my future writings, the ending of him dying never happened.

Dating Eric Draven HCs

You met him when you were being harassed by a wanted criminal in an alleyway. During one of his patrols around the city, he found you and proceeded to rescue you with his regular methods, essentially he brutally killed the guy.

When he got a closer look at you, he was absolutely captivated. Not only was it your beauty that captured his attention, but the lack of fear and extreme gratefulness you expressed despite what he did and how he looks.

He took it upon himself to walk you home, in order to make sure you got there safely and without further trouble.

After that night, he became obsessed.

He took it upon himself to look after you, mainly because he was curious about you and the feelings you made him feel. Things he hasn’t felt since he lost Shelly.

When he starts dating you, watching over you doesn’t stop, it honestly gets worse. He is very protective over the things he cares about and he cannot allow anything to happen to you. You were his new reason for happiness.

His favorite nicknames for you would include; my love, princess/prince/princex, and sweetheart. He is the type of boyfriend that would give you such sweet nicknames because you gave him a second chance at happiness and he appreciates you so much.

Whenever he’s patrolling around the city, he will send his crow to watch over you in various shifts.

His crow absolutely adores you, it’ll hang out on your shoulder like a feathered guardian while you’re doing anything.

Being who he is, he is bound to have enemies that would want to bring him down and they will definitely try. In order to bring him down, they would have to bring you down first.

If you ever get kidnapped or hurt in the process, Eric will not hesitate in going after you in a fit of possessed rage and slaughtering whoever it was that touched you, let alone harm you.

Afterwards, his protectiveness would double.

When your relationship has already deepened, you end up living with him in the flat that he resides in. You helped fix up the place and had assistance which made him feel like his old self for a while.

The two of you spend time laying on the floor surrounded by albums and listening to music. Sometimes he’ll let you play some of his old albums he made with his band but he’ll eventually need a break because he starts thinking about the past.

Some nights, Eric takes you to the roof of his flat and plays his guitar for you, he even wrote a few songs in honor of you and it honestly made you emotional cause the music was so touching and special.

That doesn’t stop you from asking him to absolutely shred it on his guitar, he’s so talented, you love it when he plays around you.

He’s very affectionate and his favorite thing is having you on his lap with his ear against your chest, he loves listening to your heartbeat. It keeps him grounded and reminds him that you’re still with him.

Therefore, whenever his mental health goes downhill, pulling him against you and holding him helps him majorly. He’ll grip you tight and press his face against your neck.

He absolutely loves kissing you and his kisses are so sweet and full of passion. Whenever he wants to kiss you, he will cup your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks before he pulls your lips against his.

Whenever his makeup starts coming off or fading, you help redo it for him, sitting on his lap while he has an arm around your waist.

Eric would never use his powers on you, especially the one that allows him to look through your memories. He respects your privacy and would only do it if you allowed him to when you couldn't get the words out.

He’s a really good listener so whenever you’re feeling down, he’ll hold you and tell you that everything is going to be okay.

When you can’t get the words out or explain clearly what happened, that’s when Eric would use his powers. Only with your permission though, he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

Sometimes you forget that he can heal so when he comes home with literal bullet holes and stab wounds, you totally don’t freak out.

#the crow 1994 #1994 the crow #the crow #eric draven #eric draven x reader #eric draven headcanons #headcanons #eric never died at the end of the film #eric is literally batman

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julemmaes · 3 years ago

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Robyn

Rowaelin Month, Day Ten

A/N: I'd planned on posting them in order, but you get what you get. Idk when the other prompts will come tbf. I hope soon. Anyway, I managed to write over 6k words today and I'm pretty fucking proud.

This is just fluff over fluff, so yep enjoy!!

Word count: 3,047

Rowan was unbelievably late as he sped through the streets of Orynth.

So late that the school had called not only him, but also the front desk of the place where he worked when he hadn't answered the call on his personal phone. Sorscha, his assistant, had entered his office with an embarrassed smile on her lips, as if she didn't want to tell him that he had forgotten for the umpteenth time to pick up his daughter from school.

Lorcan had joined him, for some strange reason, but Rowan had stopped bothering when it came to his best friend. He'd been trying to figure out how he reasoned for years and had come to the conclusion that there was no logical sense in the actions of the man sitting next to him, who was currently singing at the top of his lungs to one of the songs on the Frozen CD - which much to the chagrin of both of them, had gotten stuck in his car radio months before, forcing them into hours of torture.

He would never deny that the songs were all quite catchy, but after the sixteenth time Rowan had had to listen to Let It Go at maximum volume, his positive opinion of the film had begun to waver.

As they pulled into the school parking lot, Rowan noticed with deep regret that the only cars still there were those of the teachers and school staff.

They both got out of the car, Rowan walking quickly towards the entrance while Lorcan dragged behind him.

He greeted the caretakers sitting at the entrance, who returned a big smile. A smile that grew even wider when his large, imposing friend entered a few moments later. He stopped to talk to the old ladies and Rowan walked down the corridor he knew led to Robyn's classroom.

He could hear muffled voices from inside the teachers' room on the left and the one he knew belonged to Miss Galathynius coming from the right. He looked out over the classroom, spotting the two people sitting at a desk.

As soon as his daughter saw him, her eyes widened and a huge smile flashed across her face.

No words. No "hello, daddy!" or "I missed you!" from the little girl.

Her teacher turned as she leapt out of her chair and ran towards him, hugging his legs and looking up at him. Rowan smiled at her in turn, running a hand over her hair that was shot in every direction.

"Hello, little bird," he murmured to her. The child's smile widened even more if that was possible.

The woman a few feet away from them pulled herself upright, crossing her arms over her chest and offering a sincere smile to the child, who hid behind his thighs.

Rowan was about to tell her that Robyn was shy with everyone like this, ready to defend his daughter's behaviour as he was used to doing in front of every adult, but he was beaten to the punch.

"It's good to see you, Mr Whitethorn," she said, extending a hand. Rowan shook it without hesitation. "Actually, I just wanted to write you a letter regarding Robyn," she continued, never taking her eyes off the little girl. "Nothing serious," she hastened to reassure him when Rowan grimaced, "quite the contrary. Robyn is remarkably good. One of the best in the class, though I shouldn't offer that information so bluntly."

Miss Galathynius winked at him, but he couldn't process what he'd just been told.

"Sorry, could you-"

The little hands clamped around his trousers tightened a fraction more and Rowan looked down, trying to figure out what was bothering his daughter, but then something happened that he hadn't even dared to dream about in recent times.

"You're here!"

The little girl broke off and ran away from him in less than the blink of an eye.

Rowan turned just in time to see Lorcan grab Robyn in mid-air, spinning her around as he brought her to his chest and showered her with kisses. The loud, incessant laughter that erupted from her seemed too much coming from that fragile little body, but he never tired of hearing it.

"Why hello baby!" said Lorcan laughing in turn, starting to tickle her until she begun to rebel and he was forced to let her slide to the floor. Robyn was still laughing at the top of her lungs and nearly fell to the ground as she squealed left and right, letting herself be pushed around by the closest thing to an uncle she had ever had.

When Rowan turned back to the woman, she was wide-eyed and her lips slightly parted as she watched the massive man dressed completely in black and the menacing face turn into a completely different person the second he had seen Robyn.

He chuckled, "I know, it's not every day you get to see a little girl be so comfortable with a brute like that."

Lorcan, who was listening to everything, looked him straight in the eye and without stopping smiling and playing with the little girl, mouthed to him to fuck off.

"Well, yeah. You caught me a little off guard." she confessed, still shocked to hear how Robyn was having a full conversation with Lorcan. They couldn't hear anything of what she was actually saying, but even just the fact she was talking to someone seemed to have Aelin unsettled.

She returned her attention to Rowan and let out a breath that sounded more like a giggle, "I've never heard her laugh before."

He nodded, blushing a little at the teacher's surprised but relieved tone.

"I'm sure the dean warned you about the problem she has," he said in a low voice. He grimaced at her poor choice of words, "I mean, not problem, but the difficulty she finds in interacting with people she doesn't know."

Liar, he told himself. Robyn hadn't spoken to anyone but him and Lorcan since the day Lyria had died. It wasn't a difficulty, but a response to the trauma that prevented her from speaking to anyone who wasn't part of her immediate family.

"I know, I know. We've been looking for solutions together." she informed him. "I give her a white board every morning. Come on, I'll show you." she turned to the desk they were sitting at earlier and raised the magnetic board, on which a few words were scribbled on. "I'll write here what she might need. Yes. No. I need to go to the bathroom. I'm thirsty. I'm hungry." she read, listing the various options. Rowan gaped. "We've only just started going over the alphabet for a second time, so she can't really read or write yet, as I imagine you know, but the little drawings next to each sentence help her."

She continued talking, but he couldn't quite follow.

The woman in front of him - aside from being breathtakingly beautiful - had done as much as she could to help her child with communication.

"Mr. Whitethorn-"

"Rowan. Please, call me Rowan." he said, clearing his throat once he realized how hoarse it sounded to his ears. Lorcan walked up to them at that point, still holding Robyn in his arms and positioned himself next to him, letting their shoulders touch in a comforting way.

"Call me Aelin, then," she smiled at them both. Then she made a small grimace, turning to Rowan, "I wanted to ask if it bothered you, that I sought a solution like that. Maybe I put her in distress, embarrassed her. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted to solve this on my own. I really wanted to discuss it with you, with your husband too, to avoid misunderstandings. Maybe we could arrange a meeting."

He was about to tell her that she had given him the exact opposite of annoyance, that he had been more than pleased that she had helped Robyn this way, when her words finally registered.

Lorcan, beside him, had opened his mouth wide and his lips were slowly bending into a mischievous smile.

Rowan furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, what?"

Aelin's smile seemed to falter. "A meeting? With you? To talk about how to handle the situation," then she shifted her gaze to Lorcan, "You're more than welcome to join as well. I didn't know Robyn had two dads, I apologise for assuming Robyn had a mum and dad. That was very rude of me-"

"I love this," Lorcan whispered, laughing in shock. He turned to Rowan with eyes that sparkled with amusement, "I would definitely be the top."

Rowan looked at him with an expression of complete shock on his face, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Robyn gasped, opening her eyes wide and bringing a hand to her mouth, pointing then to Rowan's.

"Yeah, sorry, love. I shouldn't have said the bad word." he apologised, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. He turned back to Miss Galathynius, "I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, but we're not married."

"No need to lie, sweetie. I'm sure Aelin," he gave her a knowing look, "doesn't mind at all about our relationship status."

Aelin nodded, "Well, yes. That doesn't change anything. Mr..." she turned to Lorcan, searching for a name.

"Salvaterre."

"Mr. Salvaterre can still attend. The fact that you are not yet married is no reason why you cannot both be present at the meeting. You don't have to worry, we are a very tolerant school and if anyone bothers you, you can come directly to me."

A sound of sheer glee escaped Lorcan.

Aelin continued, "I mean it. I was pleased to see both of you today. I was also pleased to see Robyn smiling so much." she concluded, looking the little one in the face.

Rowan took a deep breath, bracing himself, "No, I meant, we're not a couple. We're not gay. He's her uncle."

The woman's blonde eyebrows shot up and a second later she turned almost as red as the dress Robyn was wearing as Lorcan shook his head muttering something very much like 'you're no fun', which made Robyn giggle.

"Why did you even get off the car?" he asked him exasperated.

Lorcan shrugged, "Because I missed my little bean, you monster." he replied, clutching Robyn to his chest. The little girl clutched Lorcan's shirt in her chubby little hands and Rowan huffed, shaking his head.

Aelin brought her hands to her face, leaning against the desk behind her. She shook her head, her face still hidden, "Oh, god. I'm so sorry."

Lorcan let out a dry laugh, "Don't worry about it. It was fun while it lasted." then he turned to Rowan again, who was still trying to recover from the idea of being involved in a relationship with his friend, "You're really no fun."

"Yeah, no fun dad." repeated Robyn.

Silence fell over the class. Rowan looked at her with wide eyes and blinked once, twice. Robyn was staring at him with a sweet scowl that mimicked so much that of the man who was still holding her, but Rowan couldn't get over the fact that his daughter had spoken while Aelin was still beside them.

He was about to talk, noticing how Robyn had started squirming in Lorcan's arms, when there was a knock at the door.

They both turned, Aelin peering over Rowan's shoulder, and saw the figure of a petite girl with black hair and eyes standing in the doorway, watching them with her head slightly bent to the side. She had a tag on her t-shirt that was too colourful to belong to someone who didn't work in a school with children, so he guessed she was a teacher herself. Besides, Rowan felt like he'd seen her elsewhere. Probably every day when he picked Robyn up from school, he said to himself.

"I know you're not supposed to eavesdrop but I stopped by earlier and heard you were a couple of dads," she said by way of introduction. "I just wanted to reassure you that the school is an extremely safe place. I'm the one who did most of the interviews with the parents," that's where they had met then, "and one of the questions that is asked is just about the tolerance of the people who will be attending the school."

Aelin watched her, remaining silent the whole time and putting on an amused smile, nodded, "That's what I was telling them. How tolerant the school is. They make such a cute couple, don't you think, Elide?"

Rowan turned to her, arching an eyebrow, silently asking her what she was doing. The woman, as if she could truly understand what he was trying to convey to her, nodded her head towards Lorcan, who Rowan only then noticed was standing weirdly, his eyes fixed on the woman in the doorway.

He grinned, deciding to take his revenge right away. "Oh, yes. Thank you so much for the reassurance," Rowan began to play along as well. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lorcan turn towards him, dropping Robyn to the floor, who made a disapproving noise at being dumped so suddenly. "We are happy to know that this school is a safe place for our daughter. And for us."

Elide offered him a blinding smile, "Good. I'm happy to hear that you are pleased so far. And I am happy that Aelin is the one who is taking your daughter's class. She's the best one here."

Rowan didn't know her yet, but he knew the thing Elide had just said could only be true.

"Well," she said again, giving them an apologetic smile, "I really must go now, but if you need anything, you can find all my contact details on the website. Have a nice day!"

Aelin and Rowan said their goodbyes, thanking her. Lorcan took a while to recover, but when he realised he was staring into empty space he ran towards the door, almost stepping on little Robyn, who was moved by Aelin.

"We are very much not gay, miss!" he shouted into the hallway. Aelin, now beside him and with a hand on Robyn's shoulder, cackled. With Lorcan's infinite luck, someone walked by just then and gave him a stern look. "Oh, shut up ma'am. I'm an ally. The best ally."

Rowan shook his head as Lorcan launched himself in pursuit of the poor teacher and burst out laughing when he heard him shout, "I'm not homophobic! I'm willing to suck someone's cock if I have to prove it to you!"

Aelin opened her mouth wide before bursting out laughing in turn.

Robyn, seeing both adults so happy, giggled too and Rowan bent down to pick her up. The little girl laid her full head of white-light hair on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

She was tired and Rowan really needed to get her home to sleep.

He glanced at Aelin and reduced his lips to a thin line, "I'm sorry about the commotion, I'll try not to bring him into the building again. Even if it means tying him to the seat."

The soft laugh she gave made something tighten in his chest. He frowned.

Aelin didn't seem to notice the effect she had on him, "Don't worry, Elide is crazy about fools like him. If he says the right things, we might start seeing each other outside of school too."

Rowan nodded, now too caught up in the thought of having to take Robyn home to focus on anything else.

They agreed on when to hold the parent-teacher meeting and then he grabbed Robyn's backpack, walking towards the exit.

He was thoughtless as he reached into his pocket for his keys and balanced everything else - including the girl - on his other arm, but when Robyn's hand brushed his cheek, he looked down and his eyes met their twins. Green against green.

"What is it?"

The little girl's voice never stopped making him smile. Each time was like the first time she had said dada.

"I really like her."

Rowan frowned, "Who?"

"Miss Aelin." she whispered, almost as if she was afraid they might hear her.

He smiled at her, "Yeah? You like her?"

"She's nice to me."

Rowan had to put her down as he opened the door and let her get into the back seats by herself.

"I'm glad she's treating you well, love," he let her know, buckling her in.

He hoped she'd tell him more about her new teacher, but like any kid her age, the topic of conversation couldn't last for more than four lines apiece, "Where's Uncle Lorcan?"

Rowan snorted, "No idea, little bird."

Robyn nodded, "Elide is pretty too."

And as if those words had summoned him, Lorcan appeared beside the car, making them both scream. He entered the car in a heartbeat and turned to his daughter, who was still settling into the seat. "Do you know Miss Lochan?"

But before she could answer him, Rowan had entered the car in turn and smacked the back of his head, which made the Robyn giggle, "You're not using my daughter as your wingman. Now stop it and buckle up."

Lorcan gave him a gentle push, before doing as he was told and for once he was happy he'd convinced him to do something.

Or at least, Rowan thought he had convinced him.

"What if I left you a note to deliver to Miss Lochan, Rob? Would you be up for it?"

Rowan knew, even without looking at her, that she was nodding emphatically.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he murmured, "Could you stop calling my daughter Rob, please? You'll give her an existential crisis."

Lorcan clicked his tongue against his palate, "Rowan, I'm not giving her a damn thing. We live in this new world, okay? Your daughter could be called Simon and still be a beautiful princess. Grow up and educate yourself before you talk shit."

"Aaaah!" shouted Robyn, "Bad word!"

Rowan sighed and shook his head, but still he was smiling.

This was his life. Had been for the past two years.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @hellasblessed @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @terrible-and-proud @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses @rhysandswingspan @tanvee1231

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin fic #fluff #rowaelin month day ten

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queenshelby · 3 years ago

Text

The Last Semester – Part 23

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 4,795

Warning: Smut, Angst, Conflict, Fluff

Trigger Warning: Possible Loss of Pregnancy

‘Fuck! You cannot be serious man!’ your father growled as he placed two boxes on the floor besides the door while each of you and Cillian quickly threw on some clothes in order to cover up your naked bodies.

‘John, hang on’ Cillian huffed out as your father was walking towards him, evidentially angry and upset by what he had just witnessed.

It was clear that he wouldn’t back off and was filled with rage.

‘You promised me that it was over…what the fuck Cillian’ your father growled as Cillian got up wearing nothing but his briefs and t-shirt.

‘It was’ Cillian said quickly and, before he could say anything else, you spoke up while stepping in between them with the view to avoid a fight from erupting.

‘Dad, relax and take a deep breath’ you said as Cillian put on his jeans and your father backed off with a step or two.

‘We are back together. It only just happened and we were going to talk to you about it tomorrow’ you then explained, causing your father to chuckle and shake his head.

‘I can’t fucking believe it’ he then huffed out before attempting to attack Cillian once again but, somehow, Cillian managed to push him back against the wall.

‘Listen John, I know you aren’t going to support this and that’s fine by me but, for Y/N’s sake, we need to deal with this in a civilized manner’ Cillian said, trying to calm your father down as he lashed out once again.

‘You are a with a woman half your age who is my fucking daughter and you tell me to act in a civilized manner? You need to end this. It’s fucking shameful Cillian’ your father huffed out rather upset.

‘Well, I am sorry but I am not going to end it. I am done listening to others. It’s fucking everyone. You, Nadine and even my agent, telling me what I can and cannot do. I am sorry it came to this, but I love Y/N and this is what it is going to be. It is between me and her and not anyone else. She is a grown fucking woman, old enough to make her own choices’ Cillian said harshly and somewhat irritated.

‘Fuck Cillian, would you just think about the implications for a minute? Are you seriously going to subject my daughter to this crap with your ex and the press?’ your father asked angrily before letting go of Cillian.

‘We talked about it, so relax, alright? I am okay with it’ you said, causing your father to huff and shake his head.

‘We are done mate’ your father then growled, huffing in anger as he did before telling you that he had to go back home to look after the boys. The situation was too confronting for him and that evening was the last time you and Cillian saw your father for about four days.

***

Over the following four days, Cillian had told his agent about your relationship and he also told Nadine who was furious and once again verbalised her threats. She was determined to send the tape to the press, making Cillian pay for leaving her and intending to make it sound like as if he was leaving her for a much younger woman.

But Cillian didn’t care and only really told them about you out of courtesy, making it official just as he had planned to. He needed Nadine to know that you were going to meet the boys sooner rather than later and that you would be in their lives moving forward.

But Nadine didn’t appreciate Cillian’s openness, telling him that she would not allow the boys to visit him when you were around.

Of course, Cillian argued with her and, when this went nowhere, he contacted his lawyer about Nadine’s threats, including the impending publication of a sex tape and her, once again, breaching court orders.

His lawyer was quick to send a letter to Nadine, requesting compliance with the orders and outlining to her the detrimental affects her threats would have on the children if she was to do what she had threatened to do.

Regardless of this, Cillian had no idea whether or not she would listen. Only time would tell and he was determined to pick up his boys from Nadine’s house on Saturday morning as planned.

***

Just before the upcoming weekend, Cillian had to travel to London for two days to work on a campaign for a film festival. He was due to leave Dublin on Thursday afternoon and return early Saturday morning.

His trip to London took place at the same day as you had your first ultrasound appointment and you wished that he could be there. But it wasn’t possible as he was contractually obliged to film this campaign.

Just like every other night throughout the past four days, you spent the night at Cillian’s house and he once again cooked dinner for you. He was an excellent cook and had been researching the best diets for pregnant women.

After you had just gotten back together, you barely coped being apart from Cillian and you knew that you would miss him terribly just over the next two nights.

You just wanted to be around him all times which was something that you had never felt for anyone else before. It was strange to you, feeling so needy but, at least, your desire for each other was mutual.

‘You know, you still haven’t shown me this tape’ you said as you snuggled up on the lounge together after dinner.

‘Yes, and there is a reason for that’ Cillian chuckled, feeling uncomfortable about you watching him having sex with another woman.

‘Oh?’ you asked cheekily and he nodded. ‘I have been trying to avoid it. It would be fucking awkward’ Cillian then said which is when you began to nag him again until, finally, he gave in and opened up his lap top.

‘You kept a copy on your lap top?’ you giggled.

‘Nadine was nice enough to send me a folder with all this stuff when she first threatened to send the sex tape to the press’ Cillian said as he entered the password.

‘Hang on Cillian, there are more than one video?’ you asked surprised as you saw a few video and photo files within this secured folder.

‘Yes, but the others aren’t an issue. Nadine won’t want to ruin her own reputation’ he then chuckled and you were shocked and surprised all at the same time.

‘I will leave you with the lap top while I go and have a shower. Knock yourself out’ Cillian then chuckled with red cheeks and full of embarrassment.

When he disappeared into the bathroom, you couldn’t help but click through the different files and what you saw did blow your mind.

The woman named Laura wasn’t the only woman other than Nadine who was on these videos and you were somewhat surprised by what your boyfriend had been up to before you met.

There were at least four other women on these videos and you started to think whether this is what he would want to do with you in the future. You weren’t sure whether you would ever be comfortable with this, sharing him in this way.

‘I am glad to see that you are still here and haven’t ran out the door yet’ Cillian chuckled when he finally emerged from the bathroom, approaching you wearing nothing and covered only by a white fluffy towel.

‘I didn’t expect this’ you chuckled and Cillian sat down next to you and took your hands into his.

‘Ask what you want to ask’ Cillian then said calmly, noticing your facial expressions. You were worried and concerned.

‘Is this something you would want to do with me and…uhm…another woman?’ you wondered.

‘No’ Cillian then said.

‘But you did with Nadine’ you said concerned.

‘Nadine and I went through a lot of problems Y/N. I had no desire to be with her for many years after the boys were born. She realised. Then she cheated. We got back together for the boys and spiced up our loveless marriage. That’s it. Doing the threesomes was fun but the sex I have with you is much better than any of them were’ Cillian then said before pressing his lips onto yours.

‘Good, because I don’t think I could share you’ you then said as your lips drifted apart and you climbed on top of Cillian’s lap, putting a knee on either side of his hips and sliding forward as far as you could.

Whilst you were surprised by what you found on the videos, you were also a little turned on. Despite, the sex you had with Cillian was also the best for you. After all, he was the first man who made you climax.

As you sat on his lap, you held Cillian’s face in your hands and kissed him again while pressing your mound against his growing erection which was covered by nothing more than a towel.

Cillian put his arms around you and pulled you close, the kiss deepening, and both of you could feel his cock growing longer, thicker, and harder.

‘Hmm that was quick’ you giggled while Cillian slid his hands down your back to your ass, gripping the firm globes in his hands and squeezing hard, making you moan in his mouth.

‘Of course, because this is what you do to me’ Cillian said in between kisses and, after a few more moments you sat back, you mouth hanging slightly open and your breath coming a little faster.

With lust in your eyes, you grabbed the bottom of the top you were wearing, then pulled it up and over your head. You dropped it on the floor next to the couch and then sat up, sliding your hands around Cillian’s neck to the back of his head and pulled his face to your chest, guiding his lips directly to your left nipple.

Cillian clamped his lips around your hard nipple and sucked on it, gently at first but quickly increasing the suction and making you moan. He then squeezed your ass in his hands as he flicked his tongue over the hard little nub, then nipped it between his teeth and making you squeal and jump. He moved his mouth over to her other breast and did the same thing to the nipple there, and by the time he was done your breathing was coming quick.

‘Fuck, you got the most beautiful breasts’ Cillian said as he listened to you moan, closing your eyes and enjoying what he was doing.

‘If you say so’ you giggled as you held your hand on the back of his head and pressed his face into your breast again, and Cillian sucked hard on your nipple in response.

‘You know what I didn’t see much of in these videos…unfortunately?’ you said in a breathless whisper before you stood up from Cillian’s lap and stepped between his feet, bending down to unwrap the towel.

‘What?’ Cillian groaned as you went down onto your knees, spreading his legs open with your hands.

‘This’ you whispered as wrapped your hand around his already hard cock before leaning forward, gripping it tightly and pumping it slowly.

A large drop of clear precum appeared at the tip, and you stuck out your tongue and licked it off. You smiled at Cillian as you swallowed it, pumping his cock and making another drop appear. You licked off that one, too, never taking your eyes off of his as you did.

‘I love the taste of you’ you whispered, smiling at him before lowering your head down and licking his smooth-shaven balls with the flat of your tongue.

‘Jesus…fuck’ Cillian growled as you opened your mouth wide and placed your lips on his balls. You expertly and effortlessly sucked both of them into your mouth, using just enough suction to keep them in your mouth without hurting him.

You then gripped his cock hard in your hand and pumped it slowly as you rolled his balls around in your mouth, running your thumb over the head of his cock to spread the precum that you knew would be there around and making Cillian jump as you did.

‘You are so fucking good at this…fuck’ Cillian growled, breathing heavily as you let his balls slip out of your sucking mouth and slowly licked the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue from his balls all the way up to the head, moving your hand out of the way as you did.

When you got to the head of his cock you immediately slipped your mouth down around it and sucked it into your mouth, sliding your warm, wet mouth down onto his cock until you had a little more than half of it in your mouth.

Cillian moaned as he watched you slide your mouth down onto his shaft. Your oral skills never ceased to amaze him and he loved watching you suck on his cock almost as much as he loved feeling it.

‘We should make a tape…of me doing this to you’ you then said before you worked your mouth up and down on his cock, sucking hard on it as you worked more and more of it into your mouth. It took less than thirty seconds for you to swallow his entire shaft, your nose pressed against him as you took his entire length into your mouth and down your throat.

‘Oh, my god’ Cillian growled as you reached for his phone, handing it to him all while you continued to pleasure him with your mouth.

‘Take a few photos. You can look at them while you are in London’ you whispered as you took a quick pause from what you were doing.

‘Fuck’ Cillian groaned and barely managed to hold up his phone, taking a few shots of you as you deep throated him for several pleasurable minutes before sliding your mouth up his cock until just the head and the first two inches were in your mouth.

You then wrapped your hand around his glistening cock and gripped it hard, pumping it as you sucked on the head of his cock. You then pressed the flat of your tongue against the underside of his cock and slid it up and down, sucking hard as you pumped his cock with your hand, looking him in the eyes as you worked on him.

‘Fuck Y/N…you are going to make me cum’ he then growled.

‘I know’ you quickly responded before you continued sucking hard on his cock, urging him to cum in your mouth.

It only took a few more moments for Cillian to feel his balls stirring and his orgasm building. Your cheeks were caved in further than he'd ever seen before, an indicator of the incredible suction you were applying with your mouth, and Cillian felt his cock widen as his orgasm quickly built.

‘Cum in my mouth, let me swallow it all’ you cried out around his cock in your mouth, urging him to cum as you gripped his cock harder, pumping it with your hand.

‘Jesus’ Cillian groaned as his orgasm hit and his cock exploded in your mouth. He thrust his hips upward and gripped the cushions of the couch in his fists, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back as he endured the sheer force of his intense orgasm.

You kept up the suction on his cock as his hard shaft throbbed and pumped in your mouth, shooting stream after stream of hot, thick cum into your mouth and on your tongue.

‘Hmm’ you moaned around Cillian’s cock as it filled your mouth up with his cum. Four, five, six, seven times his cock pumped cum into your mouth, and you took it all.

You looked up at him as his orgasm slowly began to subside, slowing the motion of your hand on his shaft as you squeezed every last drop out of his cock and into your mouth. You pulled and tugged on his balls as you squeezed the cum from him, and when the last spasm ran through his shaft and the last bit of cum was spit out of his cock, you slowly slid your mouth from his cock, kissing the head with a mouth full of cum as you did.

Cillian was quick to reach for his phone again and, just as he opened the camera, you looked up towards it and tilted your head back slightly and opened your mouth, showing your mouthful of his cum to him.

With the camera on record, you put a hand under your chin palm up, tilting your head forward and letting his cum run out of her mouth and into the palm of your hand. When your palm was full of Cillian’s cum your mouth was still half-full, so you tilted your head back to stop the flow.

‘That’s a lot’ you said, your words muffled by your mouthful of his cum. You smiled at Cillian and then lowered your mouth down to your hand and sucked the cum back into your mouth, then looked up at him as you swallowed it. You opened your mouth and showed him that it was empty, then slipped your mouth back onto his still-hard cock and began sucking on it again, although not as hard as you did to make him cum.

‘Are you ready for me to fuck you now?’ you then asked, smiling up at him, your hand pumping his shaft.

‘Always’ Cillian huffed out, enjoying the way you took control.

You stood up in front of him and took a step back, then hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties and slid them down over your hips, letting them fall to the floor around your feet before stepping out of them.

Then you stepped back towards Cillian and turned around, giving Cillian a perfect view of your magnificent ass.

‘Common, take a few more’ you then giggled as you bent over in front of him and he could see that your big, thick outer lips were already swollen and glistening with your juices.

As Cillian put the camera back on record, you rubbed your pussy with your hand, sliding your fingers in between your swollen outer lips, rubbing them up and down before spreading the lips apart with your fingers to give Cillian some good material for his videos and photos.

Then you moved back towards him to climb onto his lap. As you guided his cock towards your entrance, your thick outer lips spread open and enveloped the sides of his shaft as you moved, sliding your wet pussy up and down on the underside and coating it with your slick juices.

‘Fuck’ Cillian growled again as you placed the head at the opening of your pussy and pushed your hips down, sliding your pussy down onto his cock. You took your hand from his cock and put both hands on the tops of his shoulders for support as you sat down on Cillian’s cock in one long, smooth motion, taking him as deep inside you as you could in one stroke.

Cillian sighed out loud as he felt your pussy enveloping his cock. You were very tight, very hot, and very wet, and he groaned when you settled down onto his cock and then squeezed it with your inner muscles.

‘Oh, my God, that feels so good Cillian’ you moaned as you slowly ground your hips down and onto his cock. ‘I love the feeling of your hard cock inside me’ you groaned as you began to move, lifting yourself up and down on his cock.

Cillian rested his hands on your hips as you moved, gripping you lightly as you rode his cock. You rode him in long, slow strokes, pushing down hard onto him and rotating your hips as you ground your pussy down onto his cock. You moaned slightly as you squeezed his cock with your pussy, loving the feeling of his cock being buried inside you.

As you were riding Cillian, you both exchanged several passionate kisses while Cillian’s lips moved to your neck on occasion, nibbling on your sensitive skin.

You soon increased the tempo of your hips sliding up and down on his hard shaft, leaning forward and kissing him and moaning into his mouth.

‘Oh god Cillian, fuck’ you panted as she rode him. ‘I'm gonna cum all over your cock’ you then moaned loudly.

‘Do it, baby, let me feel you cum’ Cillian urged as your hips moved faster. He could feel his own orgasm starting to build, and he knew that feeling and seeing you cum would set him off. He gripped the cushions in his fists as you rode him, bouncing up and down on his cock, moaning louder and louder as you got closer and closer to orgasm.

‘Oh god yes’ you exclaimed, and a moment later you did. You cried out loudly as your orgasm hit, and Cillian could feel your body shaking as you slammed your hips down onto him, sitting up and slapping your hands down onto his chest for support as you drove his cock as deeply into your pussy as you could.

You ground her hips down and around onto him for a moment, then continued moving your hips up and down as your orgasm shook you. He could feel your pussy clenching around his cock, your juices running down his shaft and over his balls, and then he felt his balls shift as his orgasm rapidly approached.

A split second later he came, groaning loudly and bucking his hips upwards as his cock erupted inside your clutching, squeezing pussy. You cried out again as he thrust his cock into you. This orgasm was almost as intense as his first, but shorter in duration.

You sat up and pushed your hips down onto him to drive his spurting cock deep inside you, holding you still as he filled your pussy with his cum. You were coming down from your own orgasm as well, panting for breath as you sat on his lap with his cock throbbing inside you. When his own orgasm was over and his cock stopped pumping cum into your pussy, Cillian was left gasping for breath as well.

‘Holy shit!’ he gasped, and you looked at him, smiling and, when you finally came down from your high, you got off his lap, causing his cum to leak from your pussy onto the lounge.

‘Wait, let me take one more picture’ Cillian then said and, without warning, he pushed you down onto the lounge with your back resting against the pillows.

‘Spread your legs’ he then instructed and you complied, allowing him to get a very good view of your cum filled and leaking pussy.

You separated the outer lips of your pussy slightly with your fingers, opening it up for the camera and allowing him to take a picture just as more of his cum leaked from your mound.

‘Jesus’ he growled at the sight of it. Seeing his cum inside you turned him on immensely and he was quick to join you on the lounge.

‘Actually, there is one other thing I would really love to film’ Cillian then said and you knew what would be next when he handed you his phone.

‘Film yourself’ he then instructed just as he inserted two of his fingers inside your cum filled pussy.

‘Oh my god Cillian, fuck…’ you growled as he curled his fingers upwards towards your g-spot with one hand while you held the phone downwards and pressed record.

He knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum like this and, just after three minutes of Cillian massaging your g-spot with his fingers, he could feel your walls clench around him.

‘That’s it babe, cum around my fingers’ Cillian growled and, at this point, you barely managed to hold onto his phone as your legs began to shake and your orgasm washed over you, causing you to squirt all over Cillian’s fingers and his beige leather lounge.

‘Fuck Cillian, oh god’ you moaned as wave after wave of pleasure came over you and, finally, when you came down, Cillian withdrew his fingers from you and you let his phone drop onto the lounge beside you.

‘This is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen’ Cillian said as he picked up the phone and watched the video not once, but twice, while you were still panting on the lounge.

‘Oh god Cilly, I don’t know what turns you on about me making such a fucking mess, but hey, I am glad you like it’ you said somewhat embarrassed as you looked down at the lounge and the wooden floor before noticing Cillian’s cock which was rock hard yet again after having watched you squirt.

‘Uhm…’ you said somewhat surprised, causing Cillian to laugh as you walked into the kitchen to have some water and get a cloth.

‘Bedroom?’ you then asked as you returned and quickly wiped down the lounge with a cloth.

‘Yeah’ Cillian said with a big grin on his face, following you upstairs.

***

After another two orgasms for you and one for Cillian, you finally curled up against each other, tired and exhausted from hours of passionate sex.

‘I am sorry I can’t be there tomorrow Y/N’ Cillian said somewhat saddened as this was going to be your first scan after the pregnancy was confirmed at the doctor’s office several weeks ago.

‘It’s alright. I will get them to print out a picture for you’ you then said, cuddling into Cillian’s bare chest.

‘I would like that’ Cillian then said, running his hands through your hair gently before continuing on with what he was wanting to say all evening.

‘I was thinking that, since we are having a baby together, we should probably live together as well’ he said almost nervously before formally asking you whether you would like to move in with him.

‘You want me to move in with you?’ you then asked somewhat surprised.

‘Yes’ Cillian confirmed. ‘I know it’s early, but it feels right considering the circumstances, don’t you think?’ Cillian then asked and you nodded shyly.

‘I would like that’ you then said before looking up at him and kissing him passionately.

***

Around 2 o’clock the following day, your stepmother sneakily picked you up at Cillian’s house which you hadn’t left since the night before, before accompanying you to your appointment in town.

‘Nervous?’ she asked as you drove to the clinic and you nodded before thanking her for coming with you.

‘Of course’ she said before asking when Cillian was leaving.

‘His flight is at 3 o’clock’ you then said somewhat disappointed but, at least, you had someone with you for this visit.

The wait time at the doctor’s office was less than ten minutes and, after you got changed into a gown, you were taken into the sonographer’s office first for a quick scan.

‘So, we are around 10 weeks along?’ she then asked and you nodded before she inserted the ultrasound tube, causing you to cringe.

‘Take in a deep breath and hold it’ she then instructed as she probed around for several minutes before changing the angle and then using another device to roll across your stomach.

You watched the sonographer look at the screen for what appeared like an eternity, swallowing harshly as she did before, finally, calling in the doctor on duty.

By this point, you were slightly concerned and your stepmother held onto your hand tightly. She knew what this meant, but was hopeful nonetheless.

‘What’s happening?’ you asked extremely concerned as the doctor sat down on the sonographer’s chair and looked through the pictures on the screen before listening to her recordings.

‘Miss, I am very sorry but we cannot find a heartbeat. We need to discuss options’ the doctor then said, causing your heart to shatter into a million pieces.

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#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

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sk1fanfiction · 4 years ago

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the many faces of tom riddle, part 2

-you dislike frank dillane’s portrayal of tom riddle only because you don’t think he’s attractive-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION (and this time, featuring a bit of armchair child psych from a student).

Wait, don’t clutch your pearls just yet. Compose yourself.

I am about to explain why it’s not actually that bad, and Dillane’s portrayal is vastly underappreciated.

I definitely agree that his portrayal comes off as ‘creepier’. It’s not helped by the stylistic decisions in the scene -- the smeary, green filter gives the scene a sinister quality.

Even Slughorn looks suspect here, which is somewhat appropriate, given that he is complicit in this crime.

Again, this scene is very much intended to be slightly off.

You’ll notice (and I’ll discuss this again when I talk about Coulson’s portrayal) that Dillane is almost always shot from at least slightly below, which makes the lower third of his face look bigger (and thus more menacing). The lighting also makes his eyes glow in a really unnatural way. There’s an echo-y effect to make his voice (and not Slughorn’s) sound unnerving.

People talk about how Coulson would have looked in this scene, and if he was filmed in the same way (monotone, smeary/shadowy filter, and always from below), he’d look a bit creepy, too.

But all of this, imo, is for a pretty good reason. Slughorn isn’t the POV character. Harry is. Harry is learning about how a young Lord Voldemort wheedled the secret of Horcruxes out of an unsuspecting teacher. Unlike in COS, he expects Riddle to be evil. And, so, Harry’s new perception of Tom Riddle literally colors how we perceive him.

Take this shot, for example: he does that head-tilt thing that Coulson does, and it’s actually... kind of... cute???

Imagine Dillane filmed from slightly above, like Coulson usually is, and it looks even more innocent. (I mean, come on, he does not look like he’s killed four people, does he?) It’s not hard to imagine teachers being taken in by this kind of act.

Even that little smirk he does when the camera (aka, Harry’s gaze) pans in, is for Harry’s benefit. No one else noticed that.

However, I still fail to find this creepy, like, at all. Yes, it’s a fake smile, but he’s portraying a different side of Tom Riddle to Coulson. Whereas, in COS, he’s in his vindictive, murderous element, where he’s free to express himself, in this scene, Tom Riddle is doing what he does best -- manipulating and managing appearances.

This entire scene is an act. And because Harry knows it’s an act, it should look a bit stilted.

From the Hepzibah Smith scene in the books: Voldemort smiled mechanically and Hepzibah simpered.

So, Harry is pretty adept at parsing Tom’s fake expressions.

But just look at the expressiveness in his face: he goes from brooding, he blinks, and his entire face changes to this charming (fake) smile.

At the risk of sounding elitist, I’m a bit tired of seeing the word ‘psychopath’, which is not an actual medical diagnosis recognised by any psychological or psychiatric institution, being tossed about, especially with reference to Tom Riddle (and from a neuroscience perspective, it’s doubly annoying). There’s no such thing as ‘insanity’ or ‘psychopathy’ or being ‘crazy.’

-although I use it too a shorthand in conversation to distinguish ‘canon’ Tom from his ‘softer’ OOC counterparts, I really shouldn’t-

Unfortunately, I’ve seen the ‘psychopath’ comment used time-and-time again as an excuse or a full explanation of ‘why Tom Riddle went evil’ (JKR in fact, has made a weird comment in an interview, basically saying that ‘psychopaths can’t be redeemed or learn adaptive coping skills’ or whatever), which really just goes to show the lack of understanding and compassion when personality disorders, especially, are concerned.

But what I like most about the opening of this scene, actually, is that first, listless expression. And this is where we get slightly into headcanon, but Tom Riddle is the opposite of a happy, mentally healthy teenager. By Dumbledore’s own admission, he has no real friends. He has no parental figures, no real attachments. Yes, he might derive some pride or enjoyment from being good at magic and top of his class and all that, but I really don’t think even Tom finds that truly fulfilling. There is nothing that makes him happy.

In fact, although some might perceive it as ‘creepy’, I think that listless expression is an accurate window into Tom’s psyche.

I know people aren’t big on Freud, but I think that he does make some interesting points (also, cut the guy some slack for being relatively open-minded for the Victorian Era, and inventing psychoanalysis and while yes he did say some sexist stuff, good luck finding a field of science that isn’t male-focused and makes crazy generalizations about women, especially back in the day) about the possible origins of thanatophobia, the fear of death.

According to Freud, thanatophobia is a disguise for a deeper source of concern -- he did not believe that people were capable of conceptualizing their own death to that extent. Instead, he believed that this phobia was caused by unresolved childhood conflicts that the sufferer cannot come to terms with or express emotion towards.

Now, I know Freud almost always attributes mental distress to childhood experiences, but I think in this case, it really has some merit.

According to attachment theory, the basis of how we form attachments in adulthood is dictated by learning it from experiences with caregivers in the first two years of life. We know Tom was born in an orphanage, and that he didn’t cry much as a baby, and subsequently, probably received very little attention. Compounded with possible genetic factors and his caregivers being afraid or wary of his magical abilities, he later struggled to form attachments because of this -- I would actually go so far as to say that by the time Dumbledore meets him, Tom Riddle is severely depressed.

And that flat affect and anhedonia, I think, comes over very well in Dillane’s portrayal. There’s kind of this resignation -- a very deep sadness and loneliness to his character.

Of course, he doesn’t derive any comfort or fulfillment from human interaction, because (to borrow the description from the Wikipedia article on ‘Reactive attachment disorder’, which Tom meets all the criteria for) he has a “grossly disturbed internal working model of relationships.” In other words, he is unresponsive to all offers of attachment because of this unacknowledged trauma.

(You could arguably class Tom as having an avoidant attachment style, but I think in his case the trauma and its effect on him are severe enough to call it disordered.)

RAD isn’t particularly well-characterized (especially neurologically) and quite new in the literature, but here are some links if anyone is interested in doing a bit of digging: Link 1 | Link 2 | Paper 1 | Paper 2

And, instead of trying to resolve this conflict in a healthy way, or at least recognize that this is why he can’t be happy and try to learn how to cope from there, he (a) represses the desire for human attachment and (b) funnels that negative emotion into being the fault of Death, the Grim Reaper (again, to borrow Freudian terms).

And we all know how that turned out...

(And now, this should go without saying, but psychoanalyzing fictional characters has nothing to do with assigning a morality to mental disorders. Mental illness is neither a cause nor an excuse for criminal behavior -- in the same way that the cycle of violence is a phenomenon, not an excuse. Tom Riddle did not become a genocidal murderer because, in common parlance, he was a ‘psychopath’ -- he was not necessarily ‘predisposed’ to evil and could just as easily chosen to not follow the path that he did -- instead, he willingly made poor choices. This is a descriptive analysis, not a justification -- a ‘how’, not a ‘why’)

Here’s a Carl Jung quote that articulates it better:

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

Yes, he’s a bit stiff (and a lot more formal than in COS during his *conversation* with Harry). But, and here comes the controversial bit, this is appropriate for a portrayal of a schoolboy in the 1940s. The upright posture is accurate -- respectful, polite -- everything Tom Riddle would have been expected to be (and even Coulson, in that scene with Dumbledore in COS, is quite stiff). Even the way he looks at Slughorn and maintains eye contact is very *respectful.*

And, Dillane (I think he’s seventeen or eighteen here) actually looks like a believable sixteen-year-old. I’m sorry, I love Coulson’s portrayal as well, but he looks around nineteen in COS; so in HBP, he probably would have looked at least twenty-two or so. (Sorry, not sorry).

This may be influenced by my own interpretation of the character (because I imagine Tom always looks young for his age, and Dillane fits that archetype, but I don’t think that’s very popular), but I think young Tom Riddle is supposed to be *cute* and a bit stiff/shy/awkward (being charming and awkward is very much possible), if you consider the way Dippet and Slughorn treat him.

To support this, he says very few words to Hepzibah Smith (in the book, that scene’s not in the movie), and is very... bashful and coy during the whole interaction? I think yes, he’s charismatic, but he’s not loud, suave, openly flirtatious or particularly verbose. Tom Riddle should have a quiet magnetism, and to me, that came across in Dillane’s portrayal.

"I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me," said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah gave another girlish giggle.

...

"Are you all right, dear?"

"Oh yes," said Voldemort quietly. "Yes, I'm very well. ..."

Even the ‘ugly, greedy look’ described in the books, when Slughorn starts spilling his secrets, is there. This is how he’s supposed to look! Slughorn glimpses it, but doesn’t understand its significance. Harry does.

“Slughorn looked deeply troubled now: He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all.”

Remember the context of this moment, as well: He’s just discovered how to create multiple Horcruxes. Excuse him for looking a bit creepy (if not now, then when?).

Here’s two direct quotes of Harry’s impression of Tom Riddle in that scene:

“But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing.”

“Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human. . . .”

Tom Riddle’s Horcruxes are a direct metaphor for his refusal to allow himself to heal from his trauma -- instead, he continues to inflict destruction on himself and others.

His desire to continue creating more Horcruxes sort of resounds with the fact that self-harm can also become a compulsion.

I’d also like to digress a bit to discuss the Gaunt Ring, while we’re at it. While we’ve talked about his attachment issues in general, this discussion is particularly pertinent to father figures. And while Tom’s attachment issues are extensive, I think there’s ample evidence that as a child, he craved acknowledgement and acceptance from a father figure -- the man who gave him the only thing Tom truly owned -- his name. He would have had a vaguely defined mother figure in Mrs. Cole, perhaps.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was.... He didn’t like magic, my father ... He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage ... but I vowed to find him ... I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name ... Tom Riddle. ..."

We know that by June of 1943 (COS flashback) Tom has already uncovered the truth of his parentage; he knows he is the Heir of Slytherin via the Gaunt line, and he describes himself to Dippet as ‘Half-blood, sir. Witch mother, Muggle father.’

In Part 1, I discussed the high probability that as a presumed ‘Mudblood’, Tom Riddle was treated rather poorly in Slytherin House. But by this scene in the fall of 1943, he is surrounded by a group of adoring hangers-on. Why?

In my opinion; the Gaunt Ring. We know that Tom stopped wearing it after school, so its sentimental value couldn’t have been that great. We know he likes to collect objects (which I believe stems from his attachment issues -- he seeks comfort in things instead of other people).

Signet rings (such as the one belonging to Tutankhamun seen above) were used to stamp legal documents and such, in order to certify someone’s identify -- like an e-certificate, if you will. Like Tutankhamun’s ring, the Gaunt Ring bears an identifying symbol -- Marvolo Gaunt tells us proudly that it bears the Peverell family crest.

By the Middle Ages, anyone of influence, including the nobility, wore a signet ring. Rings in antiquity were auspicious -- they signified power, legitimacy, and authority. And so, I believe that all the Sacred Twenty-Eight families would have worn these, too.

And so, bearing the Gaunt Ring would have established Tom Riddle, symbolically and in the eyes of the Sacred Twenty-Eight (his future supporters and followers), as the legitimate heir to the House of Gaunt. This is why, I believe, Tom coveted the ring as soon as he saw it -- not just because it was a family heirloom, and not just because he thought it was a pretty toy for his collection.

(He curses it so that no one else but him can wear the Gaunt Ring safely.)

This is why, to make the legitimization literal as well as symbolic, Tom murders his father and grandparents. It’s not just an act of vindictive, murderous rage due to his perception of being rejected by his father (although it is that, too). And so, Tom, abandoning his search for a father figure (and possibly also giving up on the possibility to allow himself to heal from his own personal trauma rather than continue to inflict it on others), ‘cleanses’ his bloodline, to make himself truly legitimate. It’s rather telling that instead of affirming his legitimacy as a Riddle, which would have put him in line for a nice inheritance, and hey -- money is money -- (thus accepting his half-blood status), he simply kills them all. He has done all the murdering he needs to become immortal (and he hasn’t had the discussion about multiple Horcruxes yet); but yet, he does it again. Frightening stuff.

(Just look how the others look at Tom. All but the one to his left -- possibly Nott, Rosier, or Mulciber -- have their torsos turned towards him. Their attention is on him, while he knowingly regards the viewer/Harry. Tom seems a little uncomfortable with the attention.).

“And there were the half-dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.”

...

“Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.”

...

“Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader.”

The ‘gang’ are true hangers-on; Tom doesn’t seem to pay them much attention.

So, if not via careful flattery or charisma, the attraction must be status.

And perhaps yet more telling...

"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing." “A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor.”

That, in my opinion, is as good as we’re going to get as proof that Tom’s shiny new signet ring (and by extension, his new status) made a big impression on his fellow students.

So, when he returns to Hogwarts, he is ‘pureblood’. He is cleansed of his Muggle roots, and becomes the legitimate heir of the House of Gaunt, now well on his way to becoming Lord Voldemort...

Watch the scene again, with a critical eye, and imagine Slughorn’s perspective, instead of Harry’s. There’s nothing creepy about Tom Riddle... unless you know what he is...

Strip away all the effects of Harry’s gaze (and notice, here he’s still looking at Harry), and he’s quite the charmer, actually.

(I will concede that I don’t like the promotional images where they have him looking like he’s up to no good. And I do wish he blinked once in a while.)

My challenge to you: Rewatch the scene with an open mind, and let me know if you agree that Dillane’s portrayal comes off as depressive rather than ‘creepy.’ And if not, why do you dislike his portrayal?

#tom riddle #character analysis #character study #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #frank dillane #i literally could not find any pictures other than these #literal crumbs i swear #i know this is unpopular #people really dislike him i guess #watch the scene again with an open mind i promise you'll like it #i seriously do think he did a good job #tw: mention of child abuse #tw: mention of self-harm #i'm not trying to oversimplify things but you can't deny that maybe if tom was hugged as a child it would have helped #say it with me: psychopathy is not an actual medical diagnosis #it's actual more of a legal/criminal justice term #and people just use it as a synonym for 'evil' at this point so the original meaning is pretty much obscured #and personality disorders should not be moralized #people with personality disorders are not 'evil'

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specialagentsergio · 4 years ago

Text

now i’m getting colder || part one

summary: Emily’s been dating you for nearly a year and she’s never been happier--until her past come to call. Then she’s gone, and Spencer’s left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader (unrequited), emily prentiss x f!reader

category: angst

content warnings: (faked) major character death, mentions of/implied sex, mentions of vomiting (nothing descriptive), swearing

a/n: i got such a great response from the original fic, so after some requests, i decided to continue the story. thank you all for your support!

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist || masterlist

After the night in Connecticut, Spencer expects everything to change.

He expects you to start spending less time with him and more time with Emily, openly. He expects to have to watch you kiss her, listen to you gush about her to him. He thinks you may even be upset with him for exposing your relationship. So to say that he’s surprised when barely anything changes at all is an understatement.

The amount of time you spend together does go down, but only by about three hours and seventeen minutes per week. (Not that he calculated it on purpose—it’s one of those things he keeps track of without really meaning to.) You still spend a lot of your time with him, listening to him tell you about the books he’s reading and discussing what’s going to be shown at this year’s Georgetown foreign film festival. You don’t talk about Emily that much; at least, not any more than you did before.

Your behavior at work doesn’t change much, either. You and Emily keep things professional there for the most part, enough so that he can almost pretend that you aren’t in love with someone else.

Almost.

Three weeks after Connecticut, his attention is drawn away from his paperwork when you reach over the partition between your desks and tap on the wood.

“Spence.”

“What?”

“Are we still on for the Doctor Who marathon tomorrow?”

He blinks. “Oh, um.” He’s been so caught up in... well, in sulking, that he’s actually forgotten something. “Yeah, I guess. If you still want to. It’s okay if you don’t.”

You frown at him. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“I mean, I just figured...” He leans back in his chair, rocking it a bit. “I figured you’d rather spend time with Emily.”

“Oh.” Your expression doesn’t change much; you still look confused by his words. “Just because I have a girlfriend doesn’t mean I want to stop spending time with you, Spencer. You’re still my best friend.”

“Really?” he asks before he can stop himself.

“Really,” you affirm with a small laugh. “One o’clock, my place. Don’t forget the snacks.”

“I won’t,” he replies quietly, trying to ignore the little bud of hope sprouting in his chest, the thoughts of maybe things aren’t going well between you two and that’s why you want to spend Saturday with him, maybe you and Emily are going to break up—

You rest your chin in your hand as your expression shifts into something serene. Your gaze moves from his face to behind him and he follows it, turning in his chair to see—

Emily’s just walked back into the bullpen with a stack of files. Your eyes follow her the entire time as she makes her way to Hotch’s office, a small smile gracing your lips. You don’t even notice him watching you; you just look back down at your paperwork once she’s out of sight, that smile staying on your face.

Spencer’s chest physically aches, the bud of hope crushed. He returns to his own work, swallowing hard and trying to ignore the tears pricking at his eyes. You’ve never looked at him like that, and he would give almost anything for that to change.

---

Emily had wanted to smack herself when she realized that she was catching feelings for a coworker again.

It’s different than it was with JJ, though. With JJ, she had felt an instant connection. She had felt drawn to her like a moth to a flame. And just like a moth, she had been burned—JJ had never felt the same towards Emily as Emily did to her. She might have, someday. But then JJ met Will, and the rest was history.

You’re something entirely different. Emily’s always found you attractive, but for a long time, she didn’t have any desire to do more than simply enjoy the view. It takes her a while to really get to know you, since you spend so much time with Reid. But as she does, she finds herself more and more interested in you. A year passes, then two. One thing leads to another, and another, until one day she finds herself, slightly tipsy at one of Rossi’s dinner parties, looking at her friend and thinking, god I’d like to kiss her.

Following that realization, she notices a few things—you gravitate towards her at work, save her a seat on the jet and request to room with her when you have to double up. She thinks you’ve started touching her more than normal, too, placing a hand on her as you walk past and picking stray cat hairs off of her clothes.

The profiler in her recognizes these as signs of attraction. Now she just has to get up the nerve to make a move.

It happens in a hotel room in Phoenix. You return there from the FBI field office, both still riding the high of a successful takedown. You’ve always worked well together, and this case was no exception. You were the ones who made the breakthrough on it, leading the team right to the unsub.

You’d also been the pair that ended up at the location where he was. He’d tried to run, but you’d worked together without conscious thought. Emily had pursued directly while you took a side route. You cut him off quickly, and moments later had him in handcuffs and on his way back to the SUV. No injuries or additional casualties. It’s just about the best ending to a case that you can ask for.

You’re practically vibrating with excitement and leftover adrenaline when you turn to face her in the hotel room. And that smile on your face—god, it’s one of the most beautiful things she’s ever seen.

To hell with it, she thinks, and in the boldest romantic move she’s ever made, says, “I want to kiss you.”

She doesn’t even have time to feel nervous, because you answer immediately by taking her face in your hands and pressing your lips to hers.

Emily’s kissed women before, plenty of them. But none of those kisses had ever felt like this. No other kiss has felt so... right.

She can’t keep her hands in one place as she kisses you back; they roam everywhere, from the back of your neck, to your shoulders, your waist, your hips. You seem to be having a similar dilemma; she can feel you touching her everywhere, as if you can’t get enough of her. It becomes clear where you’re hoping this will go when you push her blazer off her shoulders. She has absolutely no complaints about that, and guides you to the bed that’s closest.

After, curled up in her arms, legs entwined with hers, you say, “I want more than just this. Not that it wasn’t fantastic,” you add. “It absolutely was. But I want this to be more than just sex, you know?”

“You want a relationship,” Emily infers.

“Yeah.”

She puts a finger on your chin and nudges it up so she can look you in the eye. “That’s what I want, too.”

You smile at her and kiss her again, gently this time. You sigh in content as you settle your head back on her chest.

Emily doesn’t think she’s ever felt happier.

---

A case the BAU gets in a gated community turns out to be a unique challenge.

“And that is the whole kit and kaboodle on each of your sixty-four suspects,” Garcia says. “Nothing really stands out.”

“That’s pretty much the main problem we’re going to have here,” Spencer says. You’ve got your back to him right now, so he’s taking the opportunity to watch you.

“Yeah. Vanilla doesn’t make your job any easier.”

“No, it does not.”

“So, um,” Garcia starts. “How’s it going with the agent whose father was a... you know?”

He frowns. “How’d you know that?”

“I might have looked into someone’s hidden background,” she admits. When he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “What? I am not gonna let some strange new person travel with my family and not find out who they are.”

Spencer glances at Seaver before returning his gaze to you. You’re wearing a sweater he’s never seen before today, and it’s really working for you. “I don’t know, she seems fine.”

“What is that in your voice?”

He scrunches his eyebrows. “What’s what in my voice?”

“Oh my god, you think she’s pretty!” she exclaims.

“What? I never said that!” he protests. He starts to panic—Garcia is notoriously bad at keeping secrets; she absolutely cannot know how he feels about you—before realizing that she’s still talking about Seaver.

“Ho, ho, you totally do,” she practically cackles. “Ha ha! PG out, lover boy.”

He frowns down at his phone before putting it back in his pocket. Whatever his tell was, he’s going to have to figure out what it is and stop doing it. He’s lucky Garcia wasn’t there to see who he was actually looking at.

“What was that about?”

Spencer jumps a little. You’ve snuck up on him, coming over when he wasn’t looking at you. “Oh, uh, n—nothing. It was nothing.”

You raise your eyebrows. “I don’t believe you. Your voice did that thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know, the thing where it jumps an octave when you’re surprised,” you say, pointing up.

“Oh. Right.” He clears his throat. “It was just Garcia being... you know, Garcia.”

“Uh-huh.” The expression on your face says you still don’t quite believe him, but to his relief, you move on. “Did she find anything in our suspect pool?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yeah. I like your sweater, by the way,” he blurts out, the words completely bypassing his brain-to-mouth filter.

You give him that smile, the bright, genuine smile that he absolutely adores. “Thanks!” you say. “Emily got it for me.”

Spencer’s never been able to look away from that smile before.

There’s a first time for everything.

---

When Reid stumbles upon the two of you kissing outside of the hotel room, Emily’s actually relieved. You’d both been talking about taking your relationship public for a while, and now she doesn’t have to come up with a way to actually do it. (You’d vetoed her “just stop keeping yourself quiet when I go down on you in hotel rooms” suggestion.)

But you don’t share that relief. Instead, your mood has changed from playful to anxious—she notices your nervous tic as you both enter the room.

She guides you to sit with her on one of the beds. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

“I...” You chew on your bottom lip. She waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “That’s not how I wanted it to go,” you say eventually.

“It’s not how I pictured it, either.” She tilts her head, unsure what to say to make you feel better. “It could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“It could’ve been Rossi.”

That gets a small laugh from you, but the smile doesn’t last. It drops mere moments later as you look at the wall your room shares with Reid and Morgan’s. “Do you think he’s mad at me?” you ask.

Emily blinks. “Why on earth would he be mad at you?”

“Well, it’s Spencer,” you say. “’Trust issues’ is practically his middle name, and I’ve been keeping this—us—from him for months.”

She takes a moment to consider this. You’re right, of course—no one knows Reid better than you. He does have trust issues; abandonment ones, too. But she still can’t imagine him ever being mad at you.

“I’m not sure it’s even possible for him to be mad at you.” She takes one of your hands in both of hers. “But I’ll talk to him, let him know this is on me.”

You relax a little, but still say, “You don’t have to.”

Emily shakes her head. “I want to,” she assures. “Besides, it’s the least I can do, since you’ve gone along with my boundaries for so long.”

“Of course,” you say quietly, and tip your head to rest on her shoulder. “Thanks.”

“It’s gonna be okay.” She squeezes your hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

---

There’s something going on with you and Emily.

He sees it in Emily first, noticing that she’s biting her nails and acting hypervigilant, constantly scanning her surroundings as if she’s looking out for something.

He can tell you’re worried, too. You’re watching her more than normal, but with a frown instead of a smile, and you’re quick to look away if she glances at you. Your bottom lip is getting chapped and irritated from how often you’re worrying it between your teeth.

Spencer isn’t sure what to make of it. It doesn’t help that he’s having headaches more and more often, and getting through them is taking up most of his energy. Even worse, you’re so focused on Emily that you don’t seem to notice that something’s wrong with him, too.

He desperately wants you to, and it’s not because he’s in love with you. He just wants to talk to someone, needs to talk to someone about these headaches, about how much they’re scaring him and how all the doctors say he’s fine but he doesn’t believe them. He knows you would listen, but he just can’t seem to bring it up, can’t overcome his fear of being a burden.

He needs his best friend, but she just doesn't seem to be around right now.

---

“I swear to god, Ian, you come anywhere near her, and I will end you.”

The words she’d spoken just two weeks ago when Doyle brought up your name echo in Emily’s head as she looks down at Tsia’s body. She knew he was hunting all of them, but she didn’t expect this. She’d thought she had gotten Tsia out of harm’s way. Instead, she’d sent her right into it.

She’s usually fine with corpses and blood. After all, she’s seen far worse than a gunshot because of this job. But this is her friend, she was talking to her just yesterday—

Morgan finds her out by the fence lining the building with vomit on her boots. He asks what he can do, and she convinces him to swing by her apartment on the way back to the BAU, not only so she can change, but so she can get rid of the necklace.

Hotch has just barely started the briefing when they return. His words fade to white noise as she looks over her team, her family. Doyle’s killing families, and now that they’re on the case, hers is next. They just don’t know it.

Her eyes come to a stop on you. The entire team was awake most of the night and everyone’s wearing yesterday’s clothes, but you look as beautiful as ever.

Emily knows you’ve been worried about her this past month, but you’ve also been so patient. You’ve never asked her outright what’s going on, instead dropping hints like you can talk to me about anything and have I ever told you that my college psychology professor said I’m a great listener? When you notice her keeping an odd schedule, leaving for hours at a time, you only ask that she text you when she gets home for the night so you’ll know she’s safe.

When Doyle had revealed that he knew what you were to her, Emily’s first thought had been that she should break up with you, for your own safety. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. You were her safe place, her calm in the center of the storm, her sanctuary.

Her profiler brain had backed her up: Ian wasn’t going to care about the official status of your relationship. He already knew she loved you, and he’d recognize that calling it off right after their meeting would be about protection rather than a change in her feelings.

So she had stayed with you, retreated to her safe place when it all became too much. This past month had been hell, but it would have been even worse without you there to keep her head above water.

You are, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to her. And she’ll be damned if Ian Doyle was going to take that away from her.

Enough.

It was time to end this.

---

The only word Spencer can use to describe the hospital waiting room is surreal. It’s eerily quiet. No one is talking, not even Garcia; she’s scribbling in a notebook instead. People switch between sitting and standing. He paces for a while before sitting next to Penelope, hunching forward in a way he knows is going to make his back hurt in a few hours. Everyone’s restless, even if they try to hide it.

Everyone, that is, except you. You’ve barely moved at all.

It had all happened so quickly. Not long after the briefing, they realized Emily was gone. From the document she had gotten from her informants, the team had quickly been able to deduce that four of the names were spies—and through that, that Emily was one, and she was on Doyle’s list.

Hotch found her gun and badge in her desk.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Spencer had said. “Why run? We’re her family. We can help.”

“That’s why,” you’d responded hollowly. “He’s killing families. She ran to protect us.”

It had been a comfort to see JJ walk back into the bullpen, and she was able to get ahold of crucial information: Emily had gone undercover as Lauren Reynolds and began a romantic relationship with Doyle in order to profile him.

It was information that didn’t sit well with most of them, Morgan especially. But you hadn’t seemed too bothered, almost as if it wasn’t news to you. Spencer had brought it up as you were both collecting your go bags for the flight to Boston.

“That didn’t seem to surprise you. Emily sleeping with him,” he clarified when you just raised an eyebrow at him.

“I knew there was a guy she was with for a while,” you’d said. “She told me a bit about what their relationship was like. Said it wasn’t real to her. I didn’t know he was a terrorist.”

Overall, you had handled this as well as could be expected. If it were you instead of Emily, Spencer thinks he would have been an absolute wreck. He definitely wouldn’t have been able to work the case as well as you had. There were some points where the stress had gotten the better of you, though, like when they were watching the video of Emily’s failed ambush and Morgan voiced his discomfort with it.

“She threw a flash-bang grenade into a car. She’s lucky the three people inside didn’t die. Is anybody else bothered by that?”

“No,” you had said bluntly.

Rossi had immediately tried to smooth it over by saying, “Well, three bad guys.”

Seaver is the one who makes the breakthrough on the case, posing the question of, why families? Hotch is able to convince Clyde to help, and Garcia tracked down Doyle’s son. You had recognized Emily’s hands in the photos of Declan’s faked death, and everything had clicked into place, the final piece of the puzzle of her past.

Morgan was the only one on the team to go into the building. “We’re already bending the rules by doing this ourselves,” Hotch had explained. “Our connection to Prentiss compromises the case. We can only afford to send one of us in there. The rest of us will wait outside in the case that he calls for backup.”

Morgan’s call over the comms had given Spencer emotional whiplash. “I’ve got her!” sparking intense relief, but quickly followed by, “I need a medic!”

Hotch had kept everyone from crowding the ambulance. They’d only gotten a brief glimpse of Emily being loaded into the back of it. Morgan had come over to the group once the doors shut and updated everyone on her condition.

“She, um...” He cleared his throat, clearly trying to reign in his emotions. “She was stabbed. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Okay,” you’d said faintly. Then you’d walked a few feet away and thrown up on the pavement.

You haven’t said anything since.

When the team had first arrived at the hospital, you had just stood in the middle of the waiting room, barely moving, until Garcia guided you to sit in a chair. Spencer had tried to talk to you a few times, just to check in, see if you needed anything, but you hadn’t responded at all. Your eyes were unfocused, and he could tell you were lost in whatever was happening in your head.

They wait for a long time. Spencer knows the exact number is floating around in his head somewhere, but he doesn’t care to track it down.

JJ walks in. Everyone looks up. The look on her face says everything he needs to know.

“No,” Garcia whispers at his side.

JJ draws in a breath. “She never made it off the table.”

His body moves on its own; he stands from his chair and tries to leave the room, but JJ stops him with a hand on his chest. “Spence.”

“I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye,” he says, only able to glance at her face once.

“Come here,” JJ says, her voice just barley audible, and pulls him into a hug.

His face crumples, and he starts to cry. His feelings about Emily may have been... complex the last few months, but regardless of any jealousy or anger, she was still one of his closest friends, and he loved her. She was like the big sister he never had, always looking out for him. Being told she’s gone—it doesn’t feel real.

JJ is the one to break the hug, pulling back from him as gently as she can. When he turns back to face the team, his eyes land on you.

You’re sitting next to Rossi and you’ve practically collapsed into him now, your body shaking with silent sobs. Rossi has a few tears of his own falling down his face as he runs his hand up and down your back.

Spencer doesn’t bother to wipe away his own tears as he makes his way to the vacant seat on your other side. He gently places his hand on top of one of yours and says your name quietly. You don’t move except to turn your hand palm up, put your fingers through his, and grip it so tightly, it’s as if you’re hanging on for dear life. He supposes you are.

You’re going to need your best friend to get through this. He knows that because he’s going to need you as well. He may be hopelessly in love with you and long for you to feel the same way, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

It doesn’t matter, because Emily is gone. She’s gone; she isn’t coming back.

And the world feels colder without her.

---------------

tell me what you thought here!

#spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss x reader #spencer reid fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #angst #spencer reid #emily prentiss #my fic

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mehbzz · 3 years ago

Text

FFXV A/B/O au 18+ includes fingering, yandere, controlling behaviour, alludes to forced breeding, depression, mentions of self harm, low self esteem/weight issues. F!reader/Ignis/Gladio

So this was going to be a pretty dark forced breeding kinda fic but my mood changed and it ended up being half the beginning of a forced breeding fic and half depressed reader suffering from a depressive episode. The change in my mood is very noticeable half way though and probably a little jarring so we shall pretend that the second half happens a month or two after the first half, when the topic of kids has been soothed over and temporarily forgotten! No proofreading, no beta.

EDIT- Just correcting a typo that was annoying me!

“….having children.”

“What??” You’d been spacing out, a mixture of the Eos version of antidepressants you were taking and the fact that this meeting with King Regis was more than a little boring. Or had been at least. The end of Regis’ sentence shocks you back into reality abruptly.

Ignis shushes you quietly and you look at him aghast, but he ignores you, focusing on the King.

“Apologies Your Majesty.” Regis briefly glances at you then back to Ignis, “She is your mate? Bonded?” “Yes Your Majesty, myself and Gladiolus.”

Regis looks back at you “And the nature of your relationship with my son is….?”

Ignis answers before you can, “She is companion to all pack members.”

“Can she speak for herself?” Your gaze flicks to Ignis and he nods. “Yes Your Majesty I can.” You feel foolish and more than a little embarrassed as your voice echoes in the hall.

“Your pack keeps you close, understandably so, although I have heard you do not have much freedom?” The King watches you, waiting for a reply you think but you’re not sure what to say. “She’s very quiet isn’t she?” It feels like a jab, and you look at Ignis for direction who looks uncomfortable. He shakes his head minutely so you bite your tongue. Regis sighs and you feel a little like you just missed an opportunity.

“I believe that as Pack Alpha and as The Prince of Lucis Noctis should have first breeding rights.”

Ignis freezes and you bite your tongue so hard you taste blood. Breeding rights?? “I am unsure if that is something Noctis –“

“It doesn't matter,” The King interrupts with a wave of his hand. “I let my son live as independently as possible, and have allowed him to start his own pack but having an omega is an opportunity to continue the Caelum line. An opportunity we may not see again and one that should not be denied.”

You feel incredibly taken off guard with this whole conversation. “You cannot be – “

Ignis grabs your hand and silences you with a tight squeeze of your fingers. You must be dreaming right? This is not truly happening. The floor feels like its tilting beneath you and you have to look down at your feet to make sure it’s not.

“I will let you discuss it with Noctis and within your pack but I hope you will not forget my opinion or interest in this matter.” Regis gazes at you for a few seconds. “Apologise to Noctis on my behalf, I will not be able to make our dinner this evening.”

Ignis bows and you reluctantly do the same. You feel dazed. Ignis tight grip on your hand doesn’t let up as you leave the throne room. He keeps giving you concerned glances out the corner of his eye as you walk back to your quarters, but it takes you until you’re walking down the corridor to your room that you shake yourself out of your stunned stupor enough to say anything.

“Did we just negotiate over which one of you gets to knock me up?” You ask incredulous. He doesn’t answer you but he frowns at your choice of words.

“Ignis, you – please tell me I just hallucinated that whole meeting.”

He sighs “we will need to discuss it.”

“You are not serious. The answer is no!” “It's an omegas role.” He snaps and you flinch, not used to Ignis’ anger.

“My apologies. If the King has taken an interest we will need to discuss it.” he repeats.

“He cant make me have children.”

Ignis hesitates barely a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a pulse of terror through you that he immediately picks up on. he stops, turning towards you and cradling your face in his hands. “I nor the rest of your pack would force you into anything you didn’t want love.” He lets you go and takes your hands again. “However it is the future of the royal bloodline, it will be something we need to talk about seriously in the future, whether we want to or not.” “We do not! I don’t want kids Ignis!” He flinches and something dark flickers across his face as he looks at you. It’s gone before you can interpret it as he turns away, pulling you after him as he continues walking.

You feel tired. “I thought I was your mate,” you say sullenly “not Noctis’.” “You are, unfortunately it’s more complicated than that.” You think you should be more upset by this than you currently feel. The medication you were on was new and felt a lot stronger than the antidepressants you had been taking back home. It left you feeling a little more numb and placid than you think you would have been otherwise.

He stops outside your room and pulls you into a kiss. Moaning softly when you immediately respond. He’s purring, trying to comfort you and you give in to the calm emotions it provokes, not wanting to feel the disorientated confusion anymore.

He leans closer, pushing you into the wall and his hand tugs up your dress until your thighs are bare. “You did well talking to the King, I was proud of you.” His praise makes you shiver. You thought Gladio was the one with the high sex drive but as his fingers stroke up your thighs you think Ignis is just as bad. Although a little more polite and less aggressive about it perhaps.

You're both quiet as his fingers slip between your thighs and he rubs softly at your clit. He presses harder and increases his pace at your gentle sigh and you turn to bury your face into his neck as the pleasure builds. You’re panting into his neck and he has his face buried in your hair, you’re not sure why you feel like you have to be quiet but you do your best to hold back your moans. He’s saying nothing, breathing hard he slips his hand up, pressing onto your abdomen before dipping into your panties and sliding a gloved finger inside of you. He gives you no time to adjust before he starts fucking you, like he’s desperate to make you cum. His palm grinds against your clit as he adds another finger, your orgasm is building fast, and as he continues his ruthless pace you feel another kind of pressure building slowly low in your stomach. It makes you gasp out his name in mild alarm, “Sl-slow down, I’m gonna pee!” He nuzzles against your ear, his purr increasing in volume. “No you’re not love, just relax,” he nips at your ear, “Let go for me.” He curls his fingers, stroking your walls quickly in just the right way to have your back arching. It’s a quick hard orgasm that takes you by surprise and has your whole body jerking and shaking as you ride out the aftershocks, biting into his shoulder as you try to control your twitching muscles. He seems a little disappointed but he’s still purring quietly and it helps calm your racing pulse. “Good Girl” he slowly withdraws his hand and removes his gloves. Leaning around you to open your door he gives you another quick kiss. “Noctis will be disappointed about this evening, perhaps we should eat together?” Your legs feel shaky as you enter, Prompto is sat on your couch, watching what sounds like a musical and Gladio appears in front of you, pulling you into a kiss before you can even say hello. The kiss Gladio gives you is ravenous, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. Both hands squeeze your ass as you try to pull away, conscious of the growing slick between your already wet thighs. “Gladio!” He chuckles at your breathless gasp and pulls away, letting you go. He slaps your ass hard as you walk away, almost crossing the line into genuinely painful but he only grins at your glare. You wince as you sit down next to Prompto and he gives you a sympathetic smile. He pats his knee “Lie down.”

Head resting in Prompto lap you half-heartedly watch the musical as he enthusiastically tells you the plot. You gaze flicks between the TV and Ignis and Gladio talking quietly by the door. You can’t make out what they’re saying but you have no doubt what they’re talking about. You’re still a little shook from your meeting with King Regis but you trust your pack to look after you. --------- “She looked to me for permission.” “hmm?” “When the King spoke to her. She looked to me before answering.” Gladio surprises him with a kiss to his cheek. “We trained her well.” “It’s not the way I wanted this topic brought up.” Ignis says after a few seconds and relaxes a little as Gladio strokes a hand down his back. “I didn’t realise that was what the King wished to discuss.” “Relax babe. We’ll do damage control, it’ll be fine.” Gladio watches Ignis expression closely, “She wasn’t happy with the idea I take it?” “She said No. Emphatically.” They both stand there quietly, watching you as you’re subjected to Prompto’s retelling of the film’s plot. “Accidents happen.” Gladio says quietly. Ignis frowns. “She’s on birth control and heat suppressants.” “You're in charge of her medication Iggy” Ignis finally looks at him, but says nothing. “Who can really tell one little pill from another?” Gladio shrugs. “Just saying.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Noctis said you cancelled your plans with him today.” Ignis stands next to your bed watching you. He frowns slightly when you don’t respond, gently pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. You push him away and he sits next to you on the mattress. He sits and waits watching you patiently until you give in and make eye contact with him. He's worried about you, it’s written clearly across his face and it makes you feel ill. You shrug. You're half expecting him to force you to go anyway.

“Bad day?”

You don't answer and snuggle deeper into your duvet.

“Love?”

“I'm fine,” It’s an automatic answer and a lie. “Just tired.” Not quite another lie but close enough. You are tired. Just not the type of tired that's going to be helped by the 12 hour nap you want to take. You try to force a smile but it feels awkward and it’s obviously not convincing from Ignis expression.

He sighs and cautiously shifts a little closer but you flinch away when he goes to stroke your hair. It's a dirty greasy mess and the thought of Ignis touching it fills you with disgust and embarrassment.

“Don’t.” His nostrils flare as he scents you and the surge of hatred for that invasion of privacy makes you feel physically sick. Nothing is ever just yours anymore.

“Talk to me love, I care about you.”

“Why?”

It's a choked sob and you angrily bite your lip in an effort to stop the tears.

“Because I love you.”

“Well you shouldn't.” It’s a snappy angry retort but he doesn’t flinch or pull away.

He reaches forward, gently brushing some of your hair away from your face. “Sit up.” You scowl but you do as he commands. He pulls your hair gently in to a ponytail, combing his finger slowly through it to ease the knots before tying it with a band.

“Have you eaten today?” You shake your head reluctantly. You hadn’t even got out of bed today let alone eaten or drunk anything. “Have you taken your medication?” His questions and attention are starting to irritate you. You just want to be left alone. “Love?” You shrug. You genuinely don’t remember. “I can take care of myself.” “Can you?” You don’t reply, annoyed at his patronizing, but probably correct assumption and instead lie back down and curl up into a tighter ball and try to ignore him. He sighs and entwines his fingers through yours despite your attempt to pull your hand away.

“I will go get you something to eat.”

You don’t want to eat but you want to be left alone so you nod. He looks almost sad, maybe disappointed and it feels you with a surge of guilt.

”Tell Noct I'm sorry”

“You have nothing to be sorry for love, but I will talk to him?”

It's a question and it surprises you for some reason.

You don't want him to know, it makes you feel pathetic. Ignis notices the way your thoughts have gone and links his fingers back through yours. “He'll understand.” He squeezes your hand on the last word and you look up at him. Noctis is the one most likely to understand you know that but it's still embarrassing.

“I won't tell him anything you don't want me to, just enough to ease his concerns.”

You nod reluctantly, but the thought that Noctis could genuinely be worried about you feels absurd. “Will you be safe on your own?” his gaze sweeps down your arm as he stands, you know what he’s looking for, what he’s thinking, and you feel irritated at yourself for having shared so much with him in the past. The frustration at his question is unfair, you know that but you still feel it.

“I’ll stay.” Gladio’s voice interrupts your reply. You watch with increasing exasperation as they talk quietly by the door, wishing they'd just go away before Ignis comes back to you. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to ignore his intense gaze. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and entwines his fingers back through yours. You crack open an eye when he doesn’t move away. He looks so concerned about you that you find yourself crying before you can stop yourself. “I’m sorry.” It’s half choked half sobbed from your throat. “You don’t need to be sorry” he repeats. He makes no move to come closer and you feel grateful for that. You don’t think you can handle too much affection without breaking down completely.

“Why do you put up with me?” you whisper, voice cracking. “I don’t do anything, I can’t fight, I can’t help with hunts, I just do nothing. I’m a burden.” “Love.” he sighs. “You are not a burden.” He kisses your palm. “You are a part of our pack. Our omega. Our mate.” He kisses you. “We love you.” “Why?” you sniffle. You can’t wrap your head around it. He wipes away your tears with a sad smile, “Because I do, because it’s you.” You’ve fooled him somehow, tricked him into loving you. Your stomach twists painfully.

“I won’t be long.” “Ok.” It’s a weak feeble reply but he doesn’t pull away from you, instead waits until you let go of his hand. You watch him leave, expecting him to go and not return now he’s seen what you are truly like until Gladio steps in front, blocking your view.

He stands next to your bed, arms crossed as he looks down at you. “Can I?”

You hesitate in answering and he takes that as a yes.

“Move over,” he says expectantly. Pushing his way into your bed and nudging you gently with his elbow when you don’t move.

You feel guilty that he’s having to stay with you, the urge to make it up to him is strong. You hook your leg over his and slide your calf over this crotch. He grunts in surprise and grabs your leg. “Relax baby.”

“You don't want to?” You're not surprised really, you probably don't look or smell very attractive right now but it still hurts. Why would he stay if you can't give him what he wants?

“Always, but we're napping right now.”

You don't believe him, and even though you don't even want to have sex you still feel the sting of rejection. He notices and presses a kiss to your forehead. Grabbing your wrist he tugs your hand to his crotch. “I'm always half hard for you omega.” And he is. You curl your hand around the bulge in his pants and squeeze tightly. His hips jerk forward and he chuckles pulling your hand away to rest on his chest. “No, don’t be naughty.”

You slump down on his chest, somewhat sullenly, still a little sore from his rejection.

You lose yourself in Gladio’s presence for a while, his heart beat strong and steady in your ear. “Wanna talk?”

“No, just cuddle.”

“I can do that.” He tightens his grip around you, pulling you until you are practically on top of him.

The self hatred comes back and you tense. You try to pull back but he tightens his hold.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm –“ Was he really going to make you say it?

“I'm heavy.” You mumble it into his chest.

“What?”

“Aren't I too heavy?”

“No you’re perfect.” he slides his hands down your sides to your ass. “I love every inch of you,” he continues his movements, gripping your thighs. “You know how much Prompto goes on about these thighs? Gets me jealous with the amount of marks he leaves on them.”

You want to cry. He freezes as your breath hitches.

“We can work on it if it's something you really want baby.” He says it hesitantly, quietly, like he's scared of upsetting you further. Linking his fingers with yours he tugs your hand to rest over his heart.

You don’t know if it is something you want, you can’t separate the dark voice in your head from the logical one. But he’s listening to you. He’s not dismissing you, and he’s definitely not ignoring you and it makes the tears run freely again. Youre not worth such care. His free hand is still wandering, soothing strokes that start at the nape of your neck, swirl down your spine to your ass and dip just barely under the hem of your shirt. It’s a soft gentle caress and even when his hands slip a little higher under your shirt there’s nothing but love and tenderness in his touch. “You’re sexy and you’re smart,” he kisses your thumb, “funny, kind,” he makes his way along your fingers with each word, a kiss pressed to the tip of each one. “brave, and my favourite kind of brat.” he nips at your pinky with the last word, before moving onto your other hand. His hands still when he hears you sniff. ”Want me to stop?”

You bury your face into his chest to hide your tears. “Yes,” you hiccup “No.”

He squeezes you tighter and lets your hand drop, resuming his touch down your back.

“and I like you on top of me,” he says his voice dropping to a low whisper “I love watching you ride me.”

His horniness is predictable, and you smile into his neck, and although it doesn't last long it is a genuine smile.

“I felt that.”

You feel him relax underneath you, he’s not purring but you feel grateful for that.

You're still tired, still sad but the heavy dark emptiness in your chest lessens slightly as you lay there and listen to Gladio’s heartbeat. You feel like you can breathe a little easier. You turn on to your side away from him and all though he looks apprehensive he lets you go.

You shift and squirm until you are comfortable on your front and reach behind you to pull Gladio’s arm across your back. He goes willingly, only resisting when you try to drag him on top of you. “The weight feels good. Please? It makes me feel,-“ It’s hard to describe how it makes you feel exactly, “…safe.” You finish quietly. He opens his mouth to reply and you beat him to it. “No talking, just squish.” His amused huff rustles your hair but he does as he’s told, draping himself over you until your half wedged under him and wrapped tight in his arms.

“I lo-“ “Don’t” you interrupt him quickly, with a surge of panic. You can’t hear that right now. “I’m- I cant. Not now.” You’re pretty sure you’re not making sense, that he’s not going to understand. “Ok.” It's murmured against your hair, a simple acknowledgment but it makes you feel better. “Can I touch you?” You nod and he slips his warm hand under your shirt to rest across your ribs just under your breasts, holding you snugly against him. It still doesn't sit quite right. His affection, his obvious care, still feels alien, wrong, like it’s meant for someone else. The feeling that you’ve tricked them into caring about you and your depressed mood still linger, and probably will for a while. But you’ve been through this before, you’ve made it through this before, and with the sound of Gladio’s steady breathing in your ear as he holds you, the heavy emptiness in your chest lessens a little bit more.

#ffxv #fanfiction #a/b/o universe #ffxv ignis #ffxv gladio

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sailingintothenight · 4 years ago

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“Put your head on my Shoulder.” T.H. Imagine.

Summary: And what if after years of chasing each other like a cat and mouse, on a magical night where you two have to pretend to be a couple, you are finally able to say how you really feel about each other?

A/N: Hello everyone, after a while, and because a couple of people asked me, I wrote the second part of this story, "WANNABE", but you don't have to read it to understand this one. Anyway, I really hope you like it. Please give this story a lot of love. Thank you - V.

Tom Holland hates not being able to hate you.

The secret of his hate is because of your vanity, your selfish and free heart, your tender smile, the dimple that forms on your left cheek and your dreamy eyes that look at your grandfather as if he were the first man that you have ever loved — because you did.

Tom hates you because under a starry night, in the midst of a crowd of people and soothing music, you make your way through the mortals wearing a velvety wine red strapless dress that is lust itself on your body, black boots (velvet too) that cover you up to the knees and are as hot as hell, and your chocker - a gift from your father - from which a cross hangs, that is a tempting invitation for a sinner like him.

You are his angel with a devilish smile: but tonight, Tom Holland hates that, despite possessing all those qualities, and many more, he can only see the tenderness in your eyes when you look at your grandfather, or when you talk about him, and your smile that becomes as adorable as the face you were born with.

“You are like… staring much. Don't you think?" Harrison chuckles beside him, making Tom look away from you and your way of receiving the guests scattered around the place.

"Shit, Tom, if you turned a little faster you would look like the exorcist." Harry continues with the bland jokes, the same ones that make Sam, Harry and Tuwaine smile.

"Shut up." Tom hisses, taking a sip of his beer as he looks back at his group of friends.

But this story is not about you, but about Tom Holland, your lifelong neighbor, who you never had a conversation with other than to annoy each other, who you used to call idiot when nobody but him heard you, who used to laugh at you while filming Avengers: infinity war, endgame and finally, Spider-man: Far From Home, who used to hold your hand when you were kids because your parents were best friends, the same Tom who now drinks and look at you while you warmly greet each guest who has come to celebrate the birthday of the second man you know loved you.

“How is possible that you and he are the only two famous people at this party? What a waste of fame. Sigh." Danielle, your best friend whispers dramatically, just as you both stop at the bar to pick up more drinks.

"I'd feel sorry for you if you actually sighed." You give her a know-it-all smile, one that invites you to earn a playful slap on the butt from her.

"Please baby, I need to get something out of our friendship, otherwise this isn't working." She makes a gesture between her and you, the same sign that a boyfriend would make before breaking up.

"Tom Holland is here, why don't you go meet him?" You joke as you take the tray and walk with her by your side talking about Tom, although he was not news to you two.

"No thanks. But you can't deny that he looks sooo good. Only HE can look adorable and sexy at the same time. With those good boy eyes and wild muscles under his plain white T-shirt. Like Wow." She makes an expression of surprise, and the sound of an explosion as if her head cannot bear so much information that causes you so much laughter. "Seriously, please take that hottie. I'm sure your grandmother sent it to you as a gift."

You giggle, but your heart races at the thought of his breaking, because even though he and Hanna Johnson were never official, maybe he thought they were so. And after breaking up with her, he was back in London.

You suspected that was the reason behind his break.

"I would, but I don't love you as much as you think." You joke, just the moment you get to the table where your dear grandfather and your grandmother's friends, are, talking about you.

With just your young age, the world was a bright place for you, but here you are now, feeling how your best hits in movies escape from your hands like sand thanks to the endless words that spring from between the wrinkled lips of your grandmother's best friends, in the garden of your own house, adorned with crowded wooden tables and Christmas lights shining on you.

"Life goes by so fast, honey, you won't have that hot body for life." Says Mrs. Lee, who, at 89, still plays to be a 20-year-old from time to time. "You are... 24? 25? And you haven't had a single boyfriend yet."

"What do achievements matter if you don't have the most important thing, cutie?" Mrs. Russell asks, clicking her tongue in approval at her own words. “There are so many beautiful boys out there. My granddaughters want to be like you, but what will I tell them if you've never had a taste of real life? You are very innocent and that can work against you. You can have a little more fun while still being a lady, you know?"

Although in your cheeks bloom a crimson glow, you are aware that her words are offensive.

"You could tell the twins that you can be successful without fucking every chocolate-covered hottie that makes you an unseemly proposition." You murmur between tight lips, knowing well that the women in front of you need more than a whisper to hear certain truths. “I mean, you could tell Amy and Anne to work hard if they want to be actresses. The world is sexist, but, hey, here I am - besides, who says I don't have a boyfriend?"

You raise an eyebrow at your own question, winning several curious glances that seem to pierce you, even your grandfather, who stares at you more astonished than anyone.

"Really?" Mrs. Russell smiles, and her red lips gleam in the night. "And who is he?"

"Uh... well... I..." You giggle in a trance thanks to the bitter taste of the liquor that has your mind under a spell, leaving you completely blank and without a coherent response. "He is…"

"Hello, love." Tom presses his body against yours, suddenly, out of nowhere, wrapping his arm around your waist, so firm that you feel the pressure of his rolex in his left hand. "Hello, ladies. I heard you talking about me and I couldn't help but come and save my girl from this sea of questions about who her boyfriend is. You thought I wasn't real, huh? I know my angel here is a little shy about our relationship, but there is no problem, love, you know you can show off what a good boyfriend I am with whoever you want…"

Tom smiles and enchants the older women who smile back at him, as if they are in love with his youth and his face that has it all: his cloud-fluffy brown hair that is combed to the side and back, the sparkle in his gaze and the way he smiles, making the corners of his eyes crinkle, right down to that funny eyebrow that everyone finds adorable.

From his lovely face and well-defined jaw to his personality and strong English accent: Tom looked like an angel from heaven, perhaps the devil himself because how dangerous his charm could be.

"Oh honey, I didn't know you and Tom were dating." Mrs. Lee says, with an expression between happy and sad. "My granddaughters thought they might have a chance with you, darling."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Lee." Tom answers, with a hint of happiness and pride in his voice. "I'm already taken and I like it that way."

"Yes!" You say with surprise when Tom gives you a squeeze with the hand that is holding you, shooting you a loving look to encourage you to speak. "I mean... He is."

You smile at the audience, especially at your grandfather and Danielle, who seem to have their suspicions.

"Tom..." Says Roy, your grandfather, who averts his narrowed eyes from your gaze to his, just to become the happiest person in the world as he clasps his hands in a sign of prayer. “I didn't know that you and my darling (Y/N) were together. I'm so happy! I'm sure my beloved Jules is happy too. Couldn't have asked for a better grandson."

"Thank you very much, Roy." Tom says, and it's so natural that he seems sincere. "I wanted to tell you, but we wanted to wait for our relationship to grow stronger."

"Yeah, you know that there are many actresses, blondes and blue eyes actresses who want to eat this hottie." You say and Tom laughs, nervous.

"Well, if you'll excuse us, I'd like to speak to my girlfriend in private for a moment."

Guiding you all the way, you and Tom turn around in the direction of the glass doors of your house that connect to the kitchen, breathing in the warm air from the warm walls the moment you two walk in.

"Good acting, Tom." You smile as you take a grape from the kitchen counter. "Not enough to win an EMMY but-"

"Ha. You are funny. But now I want to talk to you about something…” Tom smiles, too, giving you a devilish look, as if he never rests from it. "You owe me a favor, love."

"Of course not!" You defend yourself, nervous of the sudden change in the conversation. “You came alone like a prince on a horse. I did not call you. I do not owe you anything."

"Are you sure about that?" Tom laughs, as if he really enjoyed the moment. “Because I can go there and tell them the truth. I told you it's pathetic that you've never had a boyfriend. Besides, I wouldn't want to break Roy's heart, he looked so happy to know that his dearest granddaughter is with a good man."

You cross your arms, uneasy with the fact that you've never really fallen in love with someone, while seriously thinking about how happy, and probably relieved, your granddfather is to see that his granddaughter is with someone like Tom, who, despite of everything, yes, was a good boy.

"Okay. What do you want?"

"I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend in front of my parents."

You laugh inadvertently, although deep down you want to know if what was being said about Hannah and him was true.

"Why?"

"Everyone thinks Hannah dumped me and I don't want to see myself as a loser in front of my family and have them keep asking questions about her, it's exhausting."

"Eh, too late for that." You sigh, and Tom looks at you hopefully. "You were a loser long time ago, Tom, sorry."

"I hate you." Tom laughs.

"The feeling is mutual." You look away, and in a second you decide to contemplate why agreeing to be his fake girlfriend would be a bad decision, and why you would do it anyway. “Okay, but you know you can't call me darling. And stop looking at my chest, perv."

Tom laughs, looking up your chest into your eyes.

"It's not my fault you have worn that dress, but it seems that despite everything you didn't have a boy's body all this time. Congrats."

"Idiot."

Tom and his dreamy eyes smile as he opens the glass door for you, stepping aside so you can go out onto the field and do the performance of your life, which you discover would be more difficult than you thought as both of you approach the table on the left side of the place, where your family - made up of your mom, your dad and your older brother - are with his. So, in silence, and to let them be the ones to carry out the conversation of your supposed relationship, Tom remains standing next to you, leaving a space between Harry and him for you.

"Oh, yeah. Last night I got the iPad with the script of the Devil all the time." You say, to continue the conversation that your brother Ethan started, smiling at you. "My character falls in love with the poor and broken Arvin Russell."

Tom chuckles.

“And (Y/N) is a cold and rich bi—… girl who treats me like shit until I save her from her dad, the reverend and the crazy couple of rapists. I think you will play that role very well, love." And again and against your will, Tom brings you closer to him placing his arm around your waist, so close that his proximity makes you red.

So much so that you must place a hand on your exposed chest so that his gaze does not fall on that specific place.

“Bet your pretty ass I will. And then we will flee together into the sunset with a happy ending after killing 4 people."

His family and yours are too stunned to say a word, but just at the moment when you think they will shout hallelujah to the sky or to mention you are Frenemies, Dom makes a fist and a victory gesture with a loud yes!

“I told you they would be together before they were 25! pay me!" He yells happily at your dad, who, next to him, grunts as he searches for his wallet in his pants.

“Couldn't you wait until you turned 25, honey? It was only a few months away."

"What the hell?" Tom says, watching your father leave a $100 bill in Dom's hand.

"It's a silly thing they did when they were drunk." Nikki says, as she joins her hands in prayer just like your grandfather, just as happy as he. "It was about time you decided to be together."

"I didn't know that Tom could love someone other than Tessa." Your brother jokes.

"I didn't know anyone could love Tom more than Tessa." Harry jokes, but in his eyes you can see that part of him means it.

"Is this serious?" Your mom says, raising an eyebrow.

"It is." Tom says, and his voice is as solemn as his expression. "Mom, Dad, everyone, I want to marry this woman... someday."

Along with the expressions of happiness and surprise, theirs and yours, your brother breaks the silent while looking like a hawk at Tom.

"Her favorite color?"

"Blue." He answers, without missing a second.

"Favorite book?"

"Jane Austin's Pride & Prejudice."

"Coffee, hot or cold?"

"It depends on the season."

"Seafood?"

"Banned forever."

"Very well, you have my blessing to marry my sister." Your brother nods, like a wise old man, while you, foolishly, think of two things, how quickly he responded, and how well he knew you.

"Just that?" You question, partly offended. "Why better not give him 2 cows for my honor?"

"That's a good idea." Tom responds. "We already have a chicken so..."

You snort just like the idea of Tom buying a chicken just because there were no eggs in the store is spinning in your head, but at that very moment, your words die on your lips as Rose, your aunt and your grandfather's eldest daughter, has taken the command of the party to indicate that the most important thing of the night has arrived: the dance that your grandfather and grandmother used to have, when she was still alive.

Like a fairy tale, every couple in love gathers in the center of the garden while the song “Put your head on my shoulder” by Paul Anka begins to float in the London air that is suddenly flooded with love, to such an extent point that threatens to drown you in it.

"Would you like...?" Tom is nervous, and lets the question hang in the air.

Your breathing becomes agitated, it becomes irregular as your parents and his join the other couples, wild as your heart that beats with the fierceness of a caged animal seeking freedom.

You want to say no, but the crystallized look and happiness that you achieve in your grandfather's eyes are the impulse you need to avoid breaking his heart with the truth.

"Okay."

Tom takes your hand gently and guides you to the makeshift dance floor, placing his hands on your waist to imitate the elders.

Inside and out, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was still as beautiful as the first one he saw you when you were children; but of course, now as adults, everything was different: you were stronger, more mature, more self-confident, wilder and indomitable. But Tom didn't judge your insecurity, he never did, because you had trouble trusting in a future love that could be so real that it seemed a fairy tale - like the ones your father had read to you before bed - as deep as Roy's pain at losing his beloved Jules.

And it is then that Tom realized everything.

That's why you didn't want to be called darling, just because your grandfather used to call his great love that way. Why you never had a boyfriend. Of why you had never wasted your love giving it to someone you knew you would never have a future with, just the way he did with Hannah. Of why you have never been able to give your sincere love to someone else.

Because we're so hopeful at the beginning of things, it seems that there is only one world to gain, nothing to lose, and suddenly, we lose someone whom God knew we deeply love, leaving us with nothing but a void where there must be a beating heart.

And that's when the applause dies down, the silence overwhelms you two, time runs out and life forces you to look into each other's eyes to wonder, without words, why you did the things you did and the things you didn't.

"I'm in love with you."

"Don't."

You say the words at the same time, although they are not the words you expect to hear from the other.

And then you smile sadly, slightly because you no longer have the strength, because your body seems numb from the little alcohol you have drunk and because it seems that the world is leaning to one side with his love confession, but you also smile because Tom still has that adorable face, and a funny eyebrow that you were dying to fix. Just for fun. Just to touch him.

"You're not in love with me, you're just sad about Hannah." You whisper, desperately waiting for the song you have loved for so long to come to an end so you can flee from his arms.

"No, you don't understand, now I can see that it's you, it's always been you." Tom hates himself because he can't put his feelings and his memories into words, but his hands secure you in your place so that you don't leave, not before he can tell you a little of what he was hiding in his mind. “Since we were children I held your hand: in kindergarten, on the way home, to the park around the corner. I don't know why it is now that I can see you, always there in every step of my life, being my best friend even when we said words to annoy each other. I don't know much about love, but I know that it should make you feel good, give you peace, and that's what I feel with you. I feel at home with you, no matter where we are. And we have been in several countries away from home, but you feel like my home. And I am in love with you, and I only ask that you give me the opportunity to love the way you deserve to be loved."

You have a world of words, sharp as a knife, that could kill his confession, but against all, and because this is the first time you feel in love, you lift your hand from his shoulder, a little shaky, to brush your thumb against his brow, soft, delicate and loving, as a lover should be when loving someone for the first time.

"I still hate you."

Tom smiles and you both share a look of hope, staying in the foreground, just to be a participant in the main scene of this beautiful love story that would only be the beginning of a long night in the bright sky of your lives, the one that is like a painting made of watercolors, colors that spill over each other just to create a perfect combination, just like you two together in the eyes of any art lover.

"Not me, no. I love you."

And after that, Tom leans down a bit, feeling the softness of your lips in a real kiss, the first of many to come.

@averyfosterthoughts @galaxies-of-the-heart @heartofholland

#tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x actress!reader

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dornish-queen · 4 years ago

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Pedro Pascal - La Vanguardia

With Javier Peña's mustache as his hallmark, the 'Narcos' and 'Game of Thrones' actor is filming in Budapest with Nicolas Cage and Paco León

Pascal, cultured, seductive and reflective, repeats as Loewe's ambassador for its Solo Mercurio perfume and is a model for 'Magazine Lifestyle'

SYLVIA MARTI 12/13/2020 06:00

Casual striped jacket, tousled hair, exquisite punctuality, and a room in Budapest. There is something about this man, generous in smiles and answers, great talkative, attractive without clichés. Pedro Pascal, 45 years old and face success. He shot The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent in the Hungarian capital with Nicolas Cage and Paco León, who apparently encouraged the show a lot; We see him without seeing him in the Star Wars universe as a galactic bounty hunter in The Mandalorian and he is Maxwell Lord, the eighties villain of Wonder Woman 1984 , perhaps the only blockbuster that, if nothing goes wrong, will make us happy Christmas.

Session in Budapest The Chilean actor shoots 'The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent' in the Hungarian capital with Nicolas Cage and Paco León

(full article and photos under the cut)

Chilean by birth, his family left the country fleeing the Pinochet dictatorship when he was a baby. Brief passage through Denmark and new life in San Antonio (Texas). Normal when speaking in your mother tongue some words in English slip through. Think before answering a question without losing spontaneity or being afraid of silence. An art.

There is still Javier Peña's mustache, which catapulted him to fame from Narcos , and you can recognize that little point of joyous irony of Prince Oberyn Martell, who almost ended the Mountain in Game of Thrones . Two roles that have opened doors that he has managed to keep safe from slamming doors and have allowed him to skip the toll of stereotyped roles. Today Pascal, well trained in theater and loved by the cameras, can do whatever he wants. Even dedicating a Saturday to star in a fashion shoot and speak exclusively for Lifetsyle Magazine .

"Nobody knows me but everyone thinks they know me," he said when he debuted as the face of Solo Loewe perfume. Introduce yourself with four words.”

I do not define myself only by them, but I am contradictory, faithful, loyal, sensitive and, at times, a bit geek.

What would surprise me about you if you knew him better?

That although I live life and enjoy family, friends and social connections a lot, I have a lonely point. I like having my space and the option of staying a day at home in a relaxed and cocoon plan .

“Even though I live life and really enjoy family, friends and social connections, I have a lonely point.”

With Covid-19, many of us are already a little tired of staying at home ...

Yes, now that I don't have much choice to go out, I'm afraid of not being able to go back to the theater, to a party, to a dinner with many people ... I really regret those times that, instead of going out, I stayed at home.

Which character has left the most impression on you?

I miss Peña, from Narcos . It was my first leading role, the first time I had time to develop the character, create his energy, his style ... They gave me a lot of freedom to shape it, even if it was based on a real person. I was able to work on it, make it my own, create the tone, invent and deepen.

Do you easily get rid of them when filming is over?

When I was younger I was very clear that they had to be left at work, that the character had to be separated from the person. I thought that with age it would get easier and easier but, surprisingly, the opposite happens to me: it gets harder and harder. Energy cannot always be organized the way we would like and I have to admit that I take some of my characters home with me.

Have you incorporated any of their phrases into your life?

Maxwell Lord has a very attractive in Wonder Woman 1984 : "Everything is fine, but it could be better."

Very eighties. Like the one Gordon Gekko said on Wall Street (1987): "If you want a friend, buy yourself a dog." Have we advanced or are we already for the fourth pet?

We have come a long way. I am very inspired by young people, their strength to face in an original way that win, win and win system that reached a monstrous level in the eighties. Today's young people go deeper into the need to respect a planet in which we all live together and the obligation to take care of it.

“Young people inspire me, they deepen the need to respect a planet and the obligation to care for it.”

I see you optimistic ...

I am a realistic and hard-working optimist. My first impression is that the glass is half empty, I have to find arguments to see it half full.

Is it true that you drew the comic strips to interact with them as a method to immerse yourself in your character in 'Wonder Woman 1984'?

I made a book with images from the eighties and sixties, comic book drawings, papers, erasers, colored pencils, markers and vignettes to better understand what it was to be a man of that decade, how his attitude was forged ... It was a way to focus to live up to what Patty (Jenkins, the director) asked for, which was a lot, and not lose sight of it. I'm a horrible cartoonist, but I had to do something practical to study, understand, and develop the character.

What does a script or a role have to have to get their attention?

Sense of humor. Even if it is a drama, a hero, a villain ... Humor immediately hooks me.

A good shield to go through life ...

The best. It is the most important thing to survive.

Do you remember the last time you laughed out loud?

Paco León immediately came to mind. When he's on set, here in Budapest, we are all happier and we laugh a lot. The entire production loves it. It has made filming more fun.

“When Paco León is on set, here in Budapest, we are all happier and we laugh a lot”

What fascinates you most about the Star Wars universe?

Nostalgia, the huge audience it has, the ability to reach so many people. It reflects our childlike imagination without limits. Create more and more worlds with all kinds of people and species. He is capable of casting the universe

What is your definition of success?

Have a healthy relationship with yourself. Nothing matters if you don't love yourself.

What would you have done if you had not succeeded as an actor? Did you have a plan B?

No. Perhaps the only thing that could have been useful to others is acting as a literature teacher, as a counselor or advisor for people who need help ... I am a bit of a therapist with my friends. And it must work, because they come back. I have a lot of common sense.

What is elegance to you? Has your relationship with Loewe influenced the way you dress?

In that of elegance I am a student, I am learning. I wear what is comfortable but I also have very finite taste and, when motivated, I really like to express myself with style. And when it comes to style, Loewe is on top of everything.

Something material that would save from a fire.

A book. I always have one on hand. Now I am rereading The Magic Mountain , by Thomas Mann. Literature is one of my passions. It is an extension of life. The problem would be to choose only one, there are so many! My identity is made by inspirations from authors, actors, dancers, the art world, the sea ... There is no self without the influence of all the things that inspire me.

“The sea is what I like the most in life. I have respect, curiosity and love for him on a religious level.”

The sea…

It's what I like the most in life. I have respect, curiosity and love for him on a religious level.

If he gets lost, I know where to look for him.

On a boat in the middle of the sea, on an island, on the beach in Chile ... Everything related to water. One of the first smells I remember, although I don't know if it's too attractive, is the chlorine in the pool.

What is your fastest way to disconnect?

Losing your mobile phone. I fell down the stairs in Dubrovnik and at first it was like, "Oh noooo." But then I thought, "Well, a week without him." I had a certain feeling of liberation. Not having to be aware of e-mails, messages ... I find it very strong that people communicate even through a direct message from Instagram. I refuse.

Now that you quote them, how are you getting along with the networks? (He has 1.5 million followers on Intagram)

I am quite active, I use it when I have a good time, but also to express myself and to give my opinion.

“I will say goodbye to the year with a kiss and raising the middle finger. He has treated me well but the collective suffering and fear this year….”

What is your favorite word?

Oxymoron. I like its meaning and its sound

Who would you like to shut up, as you did in the first Loewe Solo ad?

Personally, I would love to shut up that heavy, bad voice, the imp that we all have in our heads. That it's nice to have him and that, and I know he will never go away, but it would be nice if he shut up sometimes. Collectively I think we would all like to shut up one person.

Trump?

I suppose.

What have you learned from this rare year?

That you cannot live without human contact. For me the deep and simple connections with my friends and family is the only thing that matters.

How will you fire him?

With a kiss and raising the middle finger. He has treated me very well but the collective suffering and fear this year….

*article translated with google chrome. Source of article*

#Pedro Pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #la vanguardia #magazine article #article #magazine lifestyle #maxwell lord #ww84 #the mandalorian #din djarin #lavanguardia.com

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temple--ghost · 4 years ago

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SNK Chapter 133 - Levi on Eren’s Eventual Death

An analysis of Levi’s emotional state in SNK’s recent chapter.

___________________________________ Boring Disclaimer: I’m Ereri trash. However, in terms of Isayama’s intention for the series and these characters, I believe Isayama has sought to depict their relationship as one completely without romantic or sexual undertones.

However, there are enough "blank spaces" and "building blocks" in his work that a reader can conceptualize and read given scenarios in many ways. In aspects of film and media theory, characters and narratives are often treated as if they aren't just blots of ink hitting paper, but as a hypothetical reality in which to judge character morals and meaning. When we intake any piece of fictional media, the ideal is an engagement with the characters and the story. We can consider the author’s intent, while also acknowledging multiple, theoretical “realities” of this created world as it is portrayed to us using media-driven language.

That said: I cannot argue that there is a romantic undertone between these characters; instead, I believe there is a significant relationship here that is vague enough to be twisted by interpretation.

___________________________________

Introduction

This is where we begin:

Hanji has been left behind to die. Eren’s rumbling has slaughtered thousands. Countries and cultures have been left to ruin.

And, our group of protagonists are unsure how to stop Eren.

We have two crucial suggestions from Armin: try to talk with Eren and, as a last resort, kill Eren.

Coming off of Armin’s mention of this “last resort,” Levi says:

We know there are a multitude of reasons for Levi’s death-wish against Zeke,

So, in trying to understand his motivation here, I can see Levi’s words being read in two ways:

1. Going after Zeke in place of Eren may prove a simpler solution, while also fulfilling Levi’s desire to kill Zeke. Furthermore, if both Mikasa and Armin are hesitant in killing Eren, logically, Zeke could be the substitute. Levi’s suggestion is made out of intelligent convenience. His main priority with this suggestion is Zeke.

2. Replying directly to this “last resort,” Levi offers up an alternative TO this last resort. “I’m fine with us having a last resort BUT...” and he offers Zeke’s death in the place of Eren’s. Simply put: he, personally, does not want Eren to die.

My following argument and theory correlates to what is stated in #2:

Based on the way in which Levi is portrayed in chapter 133, it is clear he remains emotionally invested in Eren’s life.

And, notably, this is not the first time Levi has offered this solution...

Substitution

Chapter 112: the Jaegerists are uprising. Eren has now not only forced the Survey Corps into action by attacking Marley on his own, but has also begun an uprising within Paradis himself. Soldiers find Levi and relay the information; Levi is told of the plan to kill Eren.

His reaction...?

To offer up Zeke.

He goes on to admit:

“I don’t know if Eren’s really being controlled by Zeke or not. But we just need to end Zeke and they’re done for.”

There’s an obvious parallel to chapter 133, in which:

- Levi seems aware that Eren’s actions are likely his own. Eren is likely guilty in being a provocateur of destruction and yet...

- Levi acknowledges that Eren’s life is threatened. He offers Zeke to save Eren from death.

(For the sake of length, I’ve omitted a few panels. Eventually, I intend to address this entire moment in a future meta post, wherein I want to discuss if Levi’s desire to protect Eren stems from a personal attachment, or if his only concern is the concept of the “wasted” lives that have died for Eren’s sake).

Let’s return to chapter 133.

Eren’s Answer

Levi’s suggestion to kill Zeke with the help of the others prompts a discussion point from Reiner.

“Eren might want us to stop him, no?”

A scene change occurs soon after; our protagonists are transported to PATHS. Levi is the only character to realize:

In this moment, Levi acknowledges the possibility that Eren may have been listening and reacting to the idea that he (Eren) wants to have someone kill him. Levi is putting the pieces together -- Eren has heard them and this will be his response.

Our characters call out to Eren. Levi is the last to speak.

Somehow, in this moment, there’s still a sense of humor in Levi’s dialogue.

Despite Eren causing the deaths of thousands... despite the loss of Hanji, Levi’s comrades, and of the hope Eren was supposed bring... Levi’s greatest “threat” is to “let [Eren] off with an ass-kicking.”

Through the lens of the odd and physical nature of Eren and Levi’s relationship, the threat is sentimental, almost.

His final callout (”Why don’t you speak up for a change?”) brings to mind a fantastic meta done by @yaboylevi, in which they explore Eren’s process of verbally retreating from Levi and the others. As well as how, in multiple instances, Levi tries -- and seemingly fails -- to speak to and understand Eren, but Eren would not let him in.

Directly following Levi’s words, Eren appears -- seen first by Levi -- and Eren’s monologue begins.

This is it. Eren has heard and is responding directly to our protagnoists’ question. And it is here that Eren not only confirms but takes it a step further by threatening further destruction unless he is destroyed.

And it is only after this moment, after Eren has given them no other choice but to kill him, does Levi's knees hit the sand

The monologue continues. We see a close-up of Levi's face, while all of the others are in the background or not made purposely distinctive -- his is the face that sticks out.

Let’s talk about scene framing or, in a more common term used by those in media criticism: mise-en-scene.

Per Dictionary.com, we can define this term as:

The arrangement of scenery and stage properties; the setting of surroundings of an event or action.

In visual media, story-boarders and artists use the placement of characters to communicate messages to an audience. Mise-en-scene is often one of the first and most important concepts taught to those within the industry. Why? Because how these characters are placed within a frame manipulates an audience; there are, across all aspects of visual media, certain “tricks” a director or artist may use in order to convey a message through the visual representation of a scene.

If you wish to understand this aspect further, I highly suggest this article. But, let’s move on and apply this concept to Levi within this chapter.

I would argue that it’s significant that, within all the ‘PATHS panels,’ he is not only portrayed on the left-hand side, but also at a lower elevation than the rest of the characters. Characters portrayed at a lower elevation often intend to display ‘weakness, defeat, insecurity.’ The left side of the scene is also reserved for this indication. I’ll quote filepicker.io for this:

“Left: weaker side of the frame, reserved for villains, powerless or insignificant characters”

I want to bring up this page:

Where the others stand together in (what I see as) the same level of awe and shock, Levi’s differing in his placement and emotions is made purposely distinct.

With Levi in the foreground, he is made completely separate from the homogeny of the rest of the group. The reader's eyes go to him on the ‘weaker’ side of the frame. While all others stand and look at the same point, he is the only one sitting and staring downward, listening and in thought.

He feels weak. Defeated. Powerless. I read the downward tilt of his head and the slump of his body as conveying a deep and thoughtful sorrow.

The audience is told not only in Levi’s expression, but in the author’s entire use of framing, that what Eren has communicated in PATHS has a very significant effect on him and we, as an audience, are meant to see this.

Levi’s Response

Immediately after this page, we return to the plane.

Note Levi, whom remains in the similar crestfallen state as before -- still, obviously, in the same state of emotions and thoughts he was in just prior.

One panel later he states:

He is back on the other side. He has been told, by Eren himself, that Eren’s death is the only option.

He has been given a straight-forward answer. He has obviously ruminated on this. He must now have an inkling of doubt that killing Zeke will stop Eren. He must understand the further depth of terror that will happen should Eren not be stopped. He must understand the loss of lives lost in Eren’s wake.

And yet, his emotions remain tethered to Eren. Despite his original promise in chapter 19.

At this point, after all that has taken place between them, between then and now...

Once again…

“...Now what?”

He does not consider the option of killing Eren.

#snk meta #aot meta #ereri #snk chapter 133 #LEVI ACKERMAN #snk spoilers #aot spoilers #133 spoilers

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intrulogical · 5 years ago

Text

Worthy

author’s note: i will never, ever write a fanfiction ever again. ever. but anyway, this fanfic is just logan angst and remus helping him, and i never typically write stuff but i just like logan angst this much. BIG THANKS to the logang discord for beta reading (oh my poor tenses). specifically, big thanks to: elle, aj, jem, orb, ellie, anders, mac, reese, roan, remy, zippy and everyone else who read it before i got to post it! (i'm not sure if you read it but shoutouts to meg and lo too bc you two are cool)

pairings: Remus/Logan (can be viewed platonically or romantically)

warnings: Logan angst, morally ambiguous light sides & Thomas (I aimed it to be canon compliant but the sides are still Rude), glitching, self-deprecation, self-neglect, self-doubt, bruises, emotional breakdown, self confidence issues, crying

word count: 6242

summary: Remus stood nervously in front of Logan’s door, hesitant to knock as he held an ice pack in hand.

It was ridiculous, really. Remus wasn’t one who’d typically provide comfort for someone, but he couldn’t help but wrap his mind around what he saw earlier.

or,

Remus underestimates how neglected Logan is and attempts to help.

(ao3 link)

Remus stood nervously in front of Logan’s door, hesitant to knock as he held an ice pack in hand.

It was ridiculous, really. Remus wasn’t one who’d typically provide comfort for someone, but he couldn’t help but wrap his mind around what he saw earlier.

While it had been some days since the episode was filmed, the tension that scattered the Mindscape was still incredibly thick. The general atmosphere had been so impossibly unnerving that even Remus felt discouraged to execute any pranks he had in mind because he was just that bothered. Even the “Light” Sides’ daily routine shifted. Remus hadn’t seen them do a Movie Night or eat meals together for a while, and despite how uninvolved Remus was with their problems, it disturbed him to no end.

Something even more worrisome was what Remus had witnessed during dinner some time ago. While the sides didn’t gather during dinner like they used to, Patton still prepared meals for them to eat. Sadly, the sides refused to eat as a group and would simply grab a plate of what Patton prepared and walk right back into their room. Earlier, Remus joined Janus in grabbing something for themselves, and coincidentally, they ran into an uncharacteristically unkempt Logan.

As Remus was about to jab at how incredibly unlike himself he looked, he noticed something off about Logan’s neck-- there was a large splotch of fresh, discolored bruising that coated it. Janus and Remus both shared the same sentiment as they gazed at the logical side in unease, but Logan quickly detached himself from the scene, making a beeline for his room.

There was no mistaking it-- those bruises that covered Logan’s neck were identical to the bruises Remus witnessed manifesting right after Janus violently pulled Logan out of the episode using his cane. As the sides weren’t technically human, some of their injuries heal more quickly than usual, but their healing powers were heavily dependent on how much Thomas acknowledged their worth as a side. One would think it odd that Remus would be informed of the semantics of how a side’s health works, but as a “Dark” Side, he was well acquainted with how physical injuries would heal slower as Thomas didn’t value them as important as the “Light” Sides.

And honestly, it was quite concerning that Logan, one of the more important “Light” Sides, suffered the same kind of neglect that Remus was experiencing.

Maybe that’s why Remus stood in front of Logan’s door. The realization that Logan was just as disregarded as him unexpectedly yet intensely haunted his mind. Despite how different Logan and Remus were in terms of personality, they shared striking similarities with one another, from the way they were treated by others to how talkative they both were. The thought of how Remus related immensely to Logan’s struggles resonated with him, and while he obviously couldn’t forget how poorly they treated each other in the past, he still aimed to mend their relationship for it to become more durable.

After much stalling and lip biting, Remus rose his hand and rapped on Logan’s door frantically. Remus couldn’t help himself; his nervousness mixed with his unending concern amplified his jitteriness. From the other side of the door, he heard a yelp from Logan.

“I apologize, I’m currently working, so I cannot accompany whoever--”

“Do you really think that’s going to stop me from barging in, Mark Zucker-turd?” Remus retorted, earning a disgruntled sound from Logan.

“Remus,” Logan said, sounding exasperated, “Can’t you simply forget about what you’ve witnessed a few moments ago? I assure you that I’ve got everything under--”

“Again, do you think anything you say is gonna stop me from barging in?” Remus replied. Logan was silent for a few moments. Once silent, there were a few things Remus didn’t notice before he knocked. On the other side of the door, Remus heard soft whispers as if there were imps scattered around Logan’s room speaking to him, maybe mocking him. While the voices were hushed, they spoke in unison, yet nothing about it sounded like a symphonic harmony.

Eventually, Logan replied, “Do you really have to?”

“Well, no, I suppose not, but none of my visits ever have a purpose behind them, do they?” Remus said, then continued with, “I also brought some ice.”

He heard a sigh coming from Logan, “Fine, you may enter, but I strictly prohibit you from staying for more than five--!”

Remus didn’t allow Logan to finish his sentence before slamming the door open with some vigorous force. Logan jolted at his thunderous entrance, even dropping his pen from the suddenness of it. Remus grinned widely at the logical side, shutting the door quickly as he sauntered toward Logan. “Catch,” Remus said, tossing the ice pack at Logan, and impressively, Logan caught it.

“Thank you,” Logan said in a deadpan tone, immediately pressing the ice pack against his livid bruises, “but you didn’t have to do that.” Logan finished and turned away from Remus to continue his work after he retrieved his dropped pen.

Remus was about to retort with some witty insult before the voices that Remus heard from outside began to chime in again, this time more audible as Remus was inside Logan’s room. Allowing himself to stay silent for a few moments, he decided to listen to the voices that echoed through Logan’s mess of a room. The whispers were just as overwhelming as Remus expected them to be; all of their voices synced together inharmoniously, creating an ear-piercing, bothersome noise.

“Pardon Thomas’s thoughts. I understand that they can be… overbearing, at times.” Logan said, noticing Remus’s disturbed expression, “They’re usually not this clamorous but Thomas has been deeply troubled lately— I’m sure you can understand. Then again, I’m assuming this is tame compared to your room, yes?”

“Well, yea, but there are definitely more voices in your room compared to mine. I’d rather listen to a kindergarten being burned down rather than this crap.” Remus stated.

“That is a lovely image to picture, Remus.” Logan said sarcastically.

“You’re welcome, Dick-ola Tesla.” Remus replied, earning a tired huff from Logan. “What are you doing, by the way? Y’know Thomas isn’t planning to devote any time this week to work on something-- self-care and all that jazz.”

Logan whipped his head around, shooting Remus an incredulous look, “You are aware that I am in charge of Thomas’s memories, right? I’ve had to postpone my work for a few days for… confidential reasons. Because of that, I have to reorganize everything at this moment before the workload becomes too overwhelming.” Logan paused before continuing, “Not that I’d become distressed, of course. I find it rather exhilarating, actually… not that you care, anyway.”

“What?” Remus exclaimed, “No! No, all is good— it looks like you needed someone to talk to, anyway—“

“I was performing quite adequately without your company earlier, Remus.” Logan’s tone remained unwaveringly monotonous.

“Yeah, your gigantic bruise totally proves that,” Remus retorted and Logan stopped writing, “Are you trying to summon Janus or something? Look,” Remus fiddled with his sleeves, “I’m not one who usually provides comfort, I mean—“

“I do not need to be comforted.” Logan sneered.

“When did Thomas stop listening to you?” Remus decided to cut to the chase. The question must’ve set something off within Logan because Remus could hear the sound of paper crinkling. Remus decided to approach Logan to better converse with him, and that’s only when he noticed that Logan had ripped out a page from his notepad and crumpled it in fury.

“What, hit a nerve, dork?” Remus asked, but Logan still refused to look at him directly.

“Thomas still listens to me,” Logan said, but like the expression he had at the moment, his tone was doubtful, unconfident, maybe even mixed with a little bit of hurt. It pained Remus to see him in such denial, and his eyebrows even knit in concern as he observed that Logan’s hand began to shake.

“You know, Thomas doesn’t listen to me either. Then again, I do tell him once a week that he should drink an entire bottle of cooking oil… then again, he doesn’t listen to Orange—“ he saw Logan flinch, “—and Janus either, you know, before the episode, and they are both pretty good guys—“

“I am not like you or your friends, Remus,” Logan said, clearly irritated. “My methods of teaching have just been very difficult to comprehend for Thomas and the others, so I merely have to correct my flaws for Thomas to listen to what I have to say. That is all.”

“Dude, I know I’m just as crazy as Sweeney Todd if he were on crack, but that is seriously fucked up—,“

“I don’t need your input on how flawed I am.” Logan swiftly interrupted him, voice raised to the point it combated the millions of other voices that spoke across the room. Before Remus could reply, Logan grabbed a remote from the corner of his desk and pressed a button that turned on all of the televisions that decorated his walls. Remus had always acknowledged the televisions, but he never knew their specific purposes.

Knowing Logan needed to cool off for a few seconds, he approached the televisions to observe what they were showcasing. All of the screens depicted different events that occurred for the past few days in Thomas’s point of view, ranging from when he achieved his new highscore in Word Crush to when he, Lee, and Mary Lee had a heart to heart about why Thomas was extremely glum during the reception. While it was somewhat a miraculous experience that Logan had access to all of Thomas’s memories, the audio that came from all the speakers and the voices that reverberated through the walls created an eerie dissonance-- Remus was surprised Logan didn’t seem bothered at all by the deafening noise.

“I apologize for raising my voice,” Logan said softly. Remus almost didn’t catch it by how much it blended in with the blaring voices.

“It’s alright, it’s not like you started World War Three or anything.” Remus said, in hopes of making Logan at least chuckle. He was met with no response. Remus chewed on his lip before carrying the conversation further, “Can I just say that all of these TV’s and voices are like, big stalker material? Like, you literally can witness any moment in Thomas’s life, whether he wants you to see it or not, and you can maybe even jerk off to--” “I aim to be as professional as I can be as I handle all of Thomas’s memories, Remus. It would be inappropriate for me to utilize them for personal gain.” Logan said, and Remus thought it was troubling how Logan could easily mask his emotions with a snap of his fingers. One second ago he showed distress, and now, he is indifferent.

“You won’t even use it for blackmail against the other sides?”

“Janus-- Deceit--well, I am unsure of what to refer to him as since he didn’t reveal his name to me directly--is rubbing off on you.”

“So is that a ‘maybe’?”

“I won’t use it as blackmail, Remus,” Logan repeated himself, “Again, I am supposed to be professional.”

Remus rolled his eyes at him jokingly as he watched the different scenes that each television was projecting. On one screen, it showed the exact moment Logan joined the conversation as a person inside a textbox. The scene was highly unsettling as Logan’s digital form looked slightly comedic, but what was undoubtedly more unsettling were the reactions he had gained from appearing. Thomas was about to punch him, Roman had infinite eye rolls for him, Patton’s optimism was so evidently fake that Remus couldn’t help but cringe at his positivity.

While Remus enjoyed the moments he spent with Janus and Orange (and maybe even Virgil despite his newfound spite for the “Dark” Sides), there were also some moments that Remus wasn’t so fond of remembering. Roman and Patton’s behavior towards Logan was reminiscent of the times Janus and Orange would both glare at Remus for being too insufferable. Or maybe it reminded Remus of the days they had to ignore him for being too intolerable.

Logan and Remus really weren’t that different, after all.

“How do you cope watching footage of the others beating you up during every conversation?” Remus said, hoping it would get Logan to open up once more.

Logan stopped writing and shot Remus an unamused look. Remus noticed his grip on the ice pack had tightened as he viewed the television that showed the painful memory. “Last time I checked, I haven’t gotten into a physical altercation with any of the sides, and the closest I’ve gotten is when Janus forced me out of my textbox using his cane.”

“What I mean is, how do you cope watching footage of others shit talking to you? I would rather eat my eyeballs downed in superglue rather than watch any of this footage.”

“This is necessary for Thomas’s--,”

“Yea, yea, it’s very fucking important for Thomas. Y’know what I think? Thomas should just fuck off.”

“Real mature, Remus.”

“But aren’t you hurt at all? Thirty years of watching others insult you nonstop is kind of… overkill.”

If Remus wasn’t being observant, he would’ve missed it, but Remus swore he witnessed some items and furniture within the room glitch for a second. It was as if the furniture belonged to some dysfunctioning game and its material would transform into mere polygons for a few seconds. Remus’s eyes widened, but Logan looked unperturbed as if he didn’t see anything transform at all.

“Thirty years of organizing Thomas’s memories only prompted me to become more professional. Please stop trying to push this narrative that I feel anything negative when I have not felt, nor experienced emotions for that matter, at any moment in my life.” Logan said, voice rising again. This prompted the furniture to glitch one more time, and like earlier, Logan chose to avoid speaking of the elephant in the room.

“Well, I’m not pushing anything! I’m just asking a few harmless questions, that’s all.” Remus pouted, “But you do admit that memories like these prove that you haven’t been listened to for a long time.”

Logan sighed, stiffening a bit, “I…” Logan started, and his death grip on his ice pack is starting to worry Remus, “I suppose there’s no avoiding the fact that Thomas hasn’t been as attentive to my contributions as he was before but I-- I’m sure I can conjure up a plan for that to change. The others had made it understandable that I have been obnoxiously invasive for the past few episodes so if my hypothesis is correct, everything should return to normal if I become less overbearing for Thomas and become more passive while still being able to contribute to their discussions.”

Remus stood wide-eyed as he tried to process what Logan just rambled on about, only able to synthesize about half of it. Logan, with an embarrassed flush on his face, looked away, returning to his notepad, “I apologize. I intended to be less invasive yet ironically did the opposite just a moment ago.” he chuckled sourly to himself before proceeding, “You should probably go.”

“No!” Remus exclaimed, approaching Logan hurriedly.

“No?” Logan quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I’m going to stay until I…” Remus fumbled with his sleeves again, “Until I get to help you. You’re not doing okay, Logan. You’re hurting yourself.” Remus said, trying to sound as sympathetic as he can.

Logan, on the other hand, pulled a troubled expression, before masking it again. The glitches around the room were starting to return and the noise was becoming more unbearable.

“I’m not going to repeat myself, Remus. The only injury I possess at this moment is the neck injury you and Janus inflicted upon me. Other than that, I am doing satisfactory.” Logan said, his voice was wavering once more.

“Logan, out of every side in this hell of a Mindscape, I can understand the feeling of distraught and pain you feel when you get dismissed by the other sides. Their treatment of you isn’t normal, and I cannot emphasize how much nothing about you is flawed or wrong like what the others imply--”

“I-- It’s interesting how my room is beginning to make you speak more logically--”

“You can’t avoid the subject, Logan.” Remus said, and Logan didn’t reply. Remus tried assembling a rational argument within his head, trying to recall anything he remembered from Orange about some weird philosophical lesson that he could apply at the moment. Then, he turned to his left, eyeing the largest television present in Logan’s room. On the bottom right of the screen, there was a red, flashing text that said “LIVE” which implied that whatever is being broadcasted on this screen was what Thomas’s current point of view looks like. And there, on the screen, was Janus, who was presently being summoned by Thomas.

And fortunately, an argument popped into Remus’s head.

“Okay, let’s think about this logically, since that is technically your gig, right?” Remus began, “If the others, including Thomas, stopped listening to you because you were too ‘invasive’, then why did Thomas begin listening to Janus even if he’d only met him once or twice before the episode was filmed?”

Logan gazed at him nervously, his hand reddening by how hard he was gripping the ice pack, “I-- I believe Janus offered some valuable points that would’ve contributed better to Thomas’s dilemma compared to the arguments presented by Patton and Roman--”

“Okay, you got it, but quick question: do you think Janus would’ve ‘improved himself’ if he were a little less invasive or present during that episode?”

Logan looked like his mouth has gone dry, “Uhm--”

“‘Cause if I remember correctly, you weren’t fucking around either during that episode. You presented the others with evidence to back up their arguments-- you practically did the same thing Janus did in this episode with me for when I first appeared! All of this evidence you have stacked up for some stupid hypothesis you formed is all so contradicting!”

“And what’s your point?” Logan glowered.

“This problem you have right now with ‘not being listened to’ isn’t something related to how invasive a side is or how much one talks. Janus’s situation is practically similar to yours, but isn’t it weird that he got listened to for the same reasons behind why you’re getting ignored?”

The thoughts were getting louder again as Thomas began to converse with Janus. Many of the thoughts complimented Janus, and while it exhilarated Remus that Janus was beginning to be more listened to, this only backed up the argument Remus was about to make.

“Don’t you think that maybe, maybe, the others are simply being a little bit too unfair about how they treat you? That nothing about you is wrong at all? It isn’t you who’s being unfair here, Logan, it’s the others! It has always been the others! These thoughts only prove that Thomas has been unfairly biased against you--”

“That-- that doesn’t make sense,” Logan says, and this time, he stood from his office chair. “The others have repeatedly informed me that-- that they know what’s best for me. They all share the same sentiments about-- about me, and-- and they’ve always made sure to showcase to me how correct they are compared to me, and this ‘unfair bias’ they have against me cannot be a possibility--,”

Logan’s saddened tone mixed with all the noises was just sheer torture to Remus’s ears. The thoughts that complimented Janus made it even more uncomfortable as it clashed with Logan’s self-deprecating sentences. “But what if it is? You need to value yourself a little bit more, Logan. You’re ruining yourself by letting others overpower and dominate you as if you were some kind of utility--”

“I told you, I am doing just FINE.”

Right as Logan’s voice began to reverberate across the room as if it was there to mock him, the room proceeded to taunt Logan with a thought that was somehow louder than the rest of the voices. The voice seemed to articulate itself in a less frantic pace, mimicking Thomas’s voice exactly as if he was in the same room talking to them. It spoke,

“Y’know, with how more understanding and intelligent Janus is compared to Logan, he might be an even better logic than Logan himself.”

And with that thought alone, the whole room, including Logan, began to break and dematerialize. The glitches returned violently, not only warping every single item and furniture in the room but also transforming the ceiling and the carpet as if the room was going to destroy itself. No object in the room was safe from the glitch’s grasp as colors flash rapidly while everything practically warped and tremble viciously. The voices all mutated into a staticky mess as the pitch and tempo of each voice were altered to make them sound like something you’d find in a horror movie. The televisions were altered as it pixelated every memory and horribly modified each person’s face to look like it was something a demon would spawn.

And Logan. Logan. He was on his knees with his hands on his ears, trying to block out any distorted sound that tried to mock him. He himself wasn’t even free from the glitching as he was subjected to the same kind of torture every object in his room was experiencing. It was as if this glitch monster thingy, whatever it was, viewed Logan as just as worthless as the things he was surrounded by. He was viewed as something lifeless; he was viewed as an object, as a utility.

Remus didn’t realize he was frozen with panic until he began to hear distorted screams coming from Logan’s lips. He quickly rushed over to Logan’s side anxiously, mumbling incoherent nonsense as he tried to think of any possible solution for this unsettling situation.

“Get me out,” he eventually heard Logan say. Without any hesitation, Remus placed both his hands on Logan’s shoulders, ignoring the massive amounts of shock and pain he felt as he touched the spiky glitches, and he used every bit of his power to force him and Logan to be teleported elsewhere.

The moments in between sinking out and materializing again were always a blur. While it tended to calm down any rampant emotions that overwhelmed a side before they dematerialize, it was also a moment used by the sides to process everything that’s happened.

It was difficult for Remus to glance at Logan, but the grip he had on his shoulders were good enough to convince him that Logan hadn't dissolved or vanished. While Remus already deduced that Logan was negatively impacted by the immense neglect he received from Thomas and the others, he didn’t realize how horrendous their treatment had gotten. Remus even feared that there was a slim yet probable chance that within the next few months, Logan could be part of the “Dark” Sides.

Ignoring the pessimistic thoughts that emerged, Remus tried to focus on bringing he and Logan into his side of the Imagination. At first, he thought that their lounge would have been sufficient enough, but seeing how Logan would visibly flinch at the mention of Orange, Remus thought his room would be a better option. He was also able to accomodate Logan better if he chose the Imagination; nothing about their lounge was comforting besides their soft couch.

Before he entered the Imagination, he tried to manipulate its interior to turn it into something more reassuring for Logan. If Remus remembered correctly, Logan was quite passionate about astronomy, and he thought it’d be appropriate to bring Logan to a place he would find comforting: outer space.

Eventually, they materialized into the room. While Remus’s knowledge on stars and planets were limited, he was hoping that his assumptions on what outer space would be like were enough to appease Logan. Inside, the Imagination stretched infinitely and no place was left unadorned. Although he did not recall the names of every planet nor what they looked like, Remus challenged his creativity to produce his own kind of system of planets and stars. Additionally, he lowered the gravity levels of the room just to add to its realism, and now, he and Logan were floating amidst all of his beautiful creations.

When Remus was sure that everything in the room was executed perfectly, he finally risked glancing at Logan. Logan’s eyes were shut tightly but that didn’t prevent any teardrops from leaking out of his eyelids. As his eyeglasses were left behind, water droplets began to slip out of his eyes freely as it floated around the two of them. Logan even let out a painful whimper as he cried woefully to himself.

“I…” Remus spoke as his heart wrenched at the sight of the crestfallen side. Remus was fearful that he might say something inappropriate so he allowed himself to stay silent for a few moments for him to think. Eventually, he spoke in a reassuring tone, “Can I-- Is it okay if I touch you?”

Logan sniffled before he nodded, prompting Remus to raise his hands and place them delicately on Logan’s cheeks. He thumbed Logan’s tears away as it gradually floated away from his face. Eventually, Logan slowly opened his eyes, blinking away some tears that still remained.

As there was barely any distance between Logan and Remus, this was the only time Remus could properly study Logan’s face. The bags underneath his eyes were excessively darkened as his eyes sagged wearily, and the fact that he was crying didn’t help ease his exhaustion. His hair was incredibly greasy; it was as if he hadn't given himself time to prioritize his wellbeing over the tiresome work he aimed to accomplish. Moreover, the livid bruises that coated his neck were still swelling as the ice pack Remus gave barely did anything to soothe it.

Overall, Logan looked exhausted.

“Remus,” Logan said, his throat slightly parched.

“Yeah?” Replied Remus as he felt Logan’s hands make their way to meet his.

“I’m sorry.” Logan said, averting his gaze away from Remus. “You shouldn’t have witnessed that. I dragged you into my personal issues and it is entirely--” Logan choked as he tried to withhold a sob unsuccessfully. “It-- it is entirely--”

“Logan, you’re allowed to be sad-- you know that, right?” Remus told him, and immediately, Logan’s face crumbled. The tears returned in full force as he placed his forehead against Remus’s chest and began to sob once more. Remus gently wrapped his arms around Logan, pulling him closer as he felt Logan’s hands grip his arms firmly.

“I-- I just-- I’m just not used to this.” Logan uttered.

“No one is, to be honest. Emotions can be a bitch sometimes.” Remus replied.

Logan huffed out a wet chuckle, “Don’t I know it.”

The two of them huddled close for a few minutes, Remus allowing the repressed sadness Logan had within to burst out. As Logan let the long overdue tears shed, Remus rubbed soothing circles on Logan’s back, hoping it would provide Logan with ease and comfort.

Part of Remus was exceptionally disgusted by how much the others’ treatment of Logan has completely ruined him, and the fact that they weren’t aware of their own cynicism only aggravated Remus further. There was an urge in the back of Remus’s mind to pardon himself, grab his mace, and utterly bash the other sides’ head in, and if it weren’t for Logan’s mental breakdown, he would’ve fulfilled that temptation by now.

Instead, he pulls Logan closer to him.

Eventually, after Logan’s sobs subsided. There were a couple sniffs here and there, but it seemed like Logan had slightly calmed down.

Logan was also first to break the silence between them, “I wasn’t aware of how crying like a newborn baby kinda feels relieving.”

Remus chuckled at him, “So you wouldn’t mind telling me about what other thoughts you’ve been repressing in there?” he paused, “Of course, if you feel uncomfortable then I won’t push you--,”

“No, no… I--,” Logan let Remus loosen his grip on him slightly for them to see each other eye to eye. “I don’t think there’s any point to withholding information from you anymore. You are already aware of how… incompetent I am.”

“I don’t think you’re incompetent for having emotions, Logan.”

“But then why do the others make it feel like I am incompetent?” Logan blurted out, “No matter how many times I assume I performed something correctly or suggested an idea that I thought was valuable, the others still convince me that I’m wrong or-- or I’m just grabbing attention. Initially, I thought that they were wrong, but then Thomas started to agree with the others every time we had an argument and it really didn’t take many instances for me to begin questioning my worth.”

Remus’s eyebrows knit together in concern, “Other people’s opinions on you don’t dictate your worth, Logan.”

“Then why are they so insistent to prove how-- how-- how fucked up I am?” Logan asked, tone distressed. Consequently, Logan took a deep breath to compose himself. “I’m sorry, I can’t-- I��m just at a loss of what to do. Growing up, I thought I was somewhat like… Thomas’s savior, his key to success, but then it turns out that all my efforts were just a waste.”

“That career change did a number on you, didn’t it?”

Logan’s lips thinned nervously before he replied, “I hate to admit it but I don’t think any moment in my life could amount to how pained I felt when I realized that Thomas didn’t want to pursue a career in engineering or astronomy. I began to question things that I thought were true. Did Thomas even genuinely listen to any plan I told him about? Did he think I was wrong? There were just so many questions, so many hypotheses to prove, and it bothered me so much because you know how I strive to be the most perfect I can be for Thomas. But how can I be perfect if everything I do is brushed aside or ignored?

“But I didn’t think they were wrong for— for neglecting me. They’ve already proven to me how beneficial they are to Thomas and how-- and how righteous and just and correct they are compared to me. It just felt wrong to think of them as wrong when I’ve already accepted the fact that it was me who was being a burden to them all this time. I just… I’m not used to it. I aim to be as perfect as I can be, I want to improve myself, but why does it feel like nothing I do is good enough?

“And sometimes, I don’t know who is to blame. Is it them? Is it me? Is it both of our faults? If they say I’m wrong, and I feel like I’m wrong, am I really wrong? Are they capable of being wrong even if their insults and jabs resonate with me as if they were right? And if they were wrong, then how come I still feel like I’m a terrible side? Why do I want to believe they’re correct so badly?”

Logan sucked in an enormous breath once he finished his spiel. While Remus was unquestionably proud and honored that Logan was able to finally open up to him, comprehending what Logan rambled to him was a whole other story. The sullen expression on his face wasn’t helping either.

“Logan, I…” Remus spoke, “I know nothing I say right now can magically fix this problem as if it never existed in the first place, but you, Logan Sanders, aren’t worthless, and anything the others say about you does not define your worth.”

“But why--”

“Why are they persistent? Well, I don’t know if you know, but the other sides aren’t exactly always so righteous and god-like?” Remus said and proceeded to sigh, “What I mean is, you need to value yourself a little more, Logan. You’ve trained yourself to listen to whatever the others are bitching about and immediately think that they are righteous even if they’re probably just being assholes to you.

“You’ve been so selfless and forgiving towards the other sides that you’ve ignored that you’re destroying yourself, Logan. You have listened to the others and prioritized them so much even if sometimes, the person who really needs to be listened to more than anything else is yourself. You’re worthy, Lo. You’re incredibly intelligent yet you’re so fun to hang around with. You’re so selfless and sweet and so lovable-- there are so many things I can say to convince you that you are worthy, but you also need to do your part in remembering that. Take care of yourself, give yourself some time to rest. You’ve punished yourself too much that it has made you exhausted. You have to value yourself more, Lo.”

And with that line alone, Logan began to shed tears once more, “I know I am exhausted, I just--” he cried, placing his forehead against Remus’s chest once more, “I just don’t know how to stop thinking about my flaws and my mistakes and everything that is wrong about me.”

“Honestly? Same.” Remus said, “It’s never an easy process, Lo.”

“How-- How did you get over it?”

“Well, I had Janus ‘self-care is my number one priority’ Sanders, so that’s one thing.” Remus was glad to hear that that made Logan snort, “Another is… time. And distancing yourself from the people who hurt you.”

“The others haven’t hurt me.”

“They have. It’s okay to admit that the people who you love are capable of hurting you and are capable of being wrong. It’s perfectly normal.” Remus said.

The arms that wrapped Remus tightened, “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.” Logan admitted, “I… Remus I just-- Thank you. Thank you so, so much.”

“You’re welcome, dork.” Remus replied, smiling softly as he looked at Logan, “Well, actually, you’re only welcome if you do take a break, okay? If my efforts in comforting you have all been useless and I see you working your ass off the next day, then fuck you, I guess.” Remus joked, and Logan snorted again.

“I’ll try my best.” Logan replied. They floated in a comfortable silence again as they had their arms wrapped around each other. Logan allowed himself to cry, allowed himself to feel, and Remus couldn’t help but feel immensely proud of Logan.

Like earlier, Logan was first to break the silence once more, “If I… If I were to take a break, would it be alright if I spend it with-- with you?” Logan said, looking up at Remus again, “I’m just scared for the glitch thing to happen again and I think I’d feel much— much safer if I were with you.”

Remus blinked at him once, then twice. Then, the biggest, toothiest grin appeared on Remus’s face. “Of course, Jimmy Nude-tron, you don’t have to be all shy about it! We’ll have the best sleepovers and dissect bodies together and-- and--,”

“Stargaze?” Logan suggested.

“Yeah, hell yeah! We’ll stargaze so fucking hard that Janus is going to be jealous.” Remus exclaimed, making Logan chuckle, “Plus, I can even allow you to make your own planets and stars, if you want! I have no fucking clue what astronomy is really about so maybe you can give me a few lessons here and there.”

Logan eyebrows raised, “Even if you lack knowledge on astronomy, you made such a magnificent replica of outer space, Remus.”

Remus couldn’t help but flush at the compliment, “Oh, uh, thank you, Swell-phaba Thropp.”

Silence.

“That was a horrible nickname.”

“Agreed, pretend I didn’t say anything.” Remus said. While he thought that they'd calmed down enough and were ready to exit the Imagination, there was one more thought that he had in the back of his head that he felt needed to be addressed.

“I don’t mean to bring the mood down but… are you going to tell Thomas about the glitching?” Remus asked, and he physically felt Logan stiffen anxiously.

Remus was about to apologize before Logan interrupted and spoke before he could, “Maybe. But not now. I don’t think I have the energy or the motivation to see him at the moment.”

Remus nodded in understanding, “While I would advise you to do everything at your own pace, I do want to remind you that you shouldn’t stall it too much either because we don’t know what those glitches can do, Lo.”

“I know, Remus. I promise I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“Good.” Remus said, “Do you want to get out of the Imagination now?”

“If… If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay here for a few more minutes.”

“That’s perfectly gucci, dork, take all the time you need here.”

And the two continued to float, arms still remained wrapped around each other as it seemed like they didn’t want to let go. While they were too preoccupied with one another to observe the changes in their surroundings, in this very precious moment, the stars that encircled them seemed to be shining brighter than ever before.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #fanfiction #intrulogical #my post #logan angst #logan sanders angst

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otonymous · 5 years ago

Text

The ABCs of Shaw (MLQC Headcanon - NSFW)

Dearest Nonny,

Thank you so very much for your lovely comments! 💕 And I'm SO GLAD you asked for Shaw’s dirty alphabet because god knows my thirsty ass can’t think of anything else 🤣 Take care of yourself as well and hope you enjoy the read!

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language - reader discretion is advised. Specific spoilers noted in the appropriate section(s) below.

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

Surprisingly sweet and tender. Shaw is actually a bit of a teddy bear once he's decided to let you in his life

Sex is very passionate with him: often hard and fast, at times desperate and rough — the two of you will typically come down from the high of release with your foreheads pressed together, feverish bodies cooling as you both gasp for much needed air in between deep kisses, punctuated by the occasional chuckle at the fact that neither of you can keep your hands off one another

A marathon cuddler: his lithe yet strong arms will wrap tightly around you, as if the strength of his emotions could be conveyed through his embrace alone

Chatty Cathy: Shaw actually loves to talk after sex. Topics could range from something as mundane as what to eat for dinner to contemplating the meaning of life. He’s a great conversationalist (partly because he’s got such a wide range of interests).

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

Shaw loves his cock. It’s huge — long and thick. He also loves the way you respond to it: immediately on your knees with your mouth wide open 🤣

He loves your eyes. He loves how expressive they are. He loves their honesty - the way you can never truly hide what you’re feeling. And when they crinkle at their corners when you smile? That’s the best thing in the world, as far as Shaw is concerned

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Loves to pull out just enough to cum on the folds of your pussy. Will then proceed to use the head of his cock to slowly smear it along the length of your slit, still trembling in ecstasy

Sk8ter Boi is instantly hard again if you dip a finger in it and bring it to your mouth (tbh though, his refractory period is pretty much nonexistent)

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

He’s in love with his brother’s girl

Loves the smell of your pussy on his hands

If he could, he would never wash them after fingering you

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

Don’t judge a book by its cover: despite his youth, his sex game is strong

Not only is he experienced, he is also adventurous and up for experimentation (grad students need to conduct research after all 🤣)

F = Favourite Position

Pressed up against a wall: because 85.72% of the time, this man can’t wait until he’s in a bedroom

Neither will you, to be honest, especially if Shaw’s engaging in one of the following activities: playing bass guitar, cruising effortlessly on his skateboard, speaking oh-so-eloquently about his archeological research and studies, blinking, breathing, etc.

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

Post-coital giggles and a few seductive chuckles leading up to intercourse, but Shaw is nothing but serious when he’s actually making love to you

Sex is raw and intense

At times, it actually feels spiritual: identities merge and unseen wounds are healed

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

Your man is nicely trimmed and neatly groomed

And no, the carpet is not lavender as well 🤣

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

Very intimate and romantic — Shaw is actually quite the sensitive soul. This is true even when the sex is rough and fast, such as when he’s banging you to within an inch of your life beneath an overpass or backstage before a set

There are rare moments (usually when he is particularly frustrated) when Shaw’s tough-as-nails façade slips and you get a glimpse of the melancholy that resides in his heart. You cannot help but sense that he’s been deeply hurt in the past. This won’t be something he’s readily willing to talk about at the beginning of your relationship, only when he feels like he can really trust you

Thus, there are times when sex feels like a form of emotional healing for this man. It is more than a means by which to sate his physical desires. The intensity of his love and feelings for you remind him of his humanity. The fact that you can love him reminds him that he, too, is deserving of love and affection

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He’s young, healthy and a grad student. Of course he jacks off 🤣

On average, a few times a week

The frequency increases during exams as a way to relieve stress (though this guy remains unflappable most of the time)

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Director’s Cut: Shaw LOVES, LOVES, LOVES to film your sex sessions

Even better: making love while watching clips of the two of you going at it

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Shaw isn’t really that picky tbh — any place is fair game when the urge hits

Still, he has to admit that your bedroom is pretty comfortable

That time he fucked you doggy style against a lectern at Loveland University was pretty hot too - he often thinks about that experience 🤣

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

Shaw is most turned on when you show him that you love him — please give this guy plenty of care and affection

The swing of your hips when you walk also makes his cock twitch

He also loves watching you eat: he thinks you’re absolutely adorable when you react to tasty food with unadulterated joy

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

Not into name-calling during sex (e.g. “slut,” “whore,” etc.), although he would do it if you so desired

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

As much as Shaw loves to have your lips wrapped around his pole, he’s actually a bigger fan of eating you out

Sk8ter boi isn’t afraid to get down and dirty: he will bury his ENTIRE FACE between your legs when he goes deep sea diving, refusing to surface until you’ve come several times and made his face a shiny mess

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

Capable of both, but tends towards fast and rough because y’all are typically boning all over the place

Guess that’s what happens when you can’t keep your hands off each other

You also don’t really have the leisure to be slow and sensual when there’s a line-up for the restroom at the Live House

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

(please see “Pace” above)

Quickies happen often and thankfully, are just as enjoyable as proper sex

Let’s be real: any sex with Shaw is great sex

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

As mentioned previously, this grad student is quite adventurous and game to experiment

Take your bag of kinks and feel free to have him root through it for something that might intrigue him — he’s down for whatever and would never judge you

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

Can generally last pretty long during a given session

But his true talent lies in frequency — with a practically non-existent refractory period, Shaw is raring to go in no time at all

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

this man charges them with his Evol

Boy’s got that Hitachi Magic Wand and isn’t afraid to use it (What? He’s got stiff shoulders from all that studying!)

Is definitely down to use electronic aids on the both of you

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Despite being snarky when you’re both fully clothed, Shaw is actually quite straightforward when it comes to activities of a more lascivious nature

He would like to be able to tease you, but most of the time he’s already got his pants down around his ankles by the time thoughts of sex run through his head

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

FUCKING LOUD

(Rapid, heavy breathing + ample dirty chatter) x (moans so sexy it should be illegal coming from a man’s mouth) = such a bad combo for discrete quickies but a turn-on nonetheless

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

Shaw is also a b-boy. He knows his windmills get you hot.

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

You have to see it to believe it. Shaw has actually been hiding an ANACONDA in those ripped jeans all this time!

This snake happens to be circumcised

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

HIGH AF. Nuff said

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

Typically likes to cuddle and chat for a bit before falling asleep in that nice, post-coital haze

Please forgive him in advance: Shaw has been known to wake you up on occasion with the slide of that juicy boner between your legs LOL

Thanks for reading! Check out more of my work here!📚

#q&a #all request line #anonymous #thank you so much #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc smut headcanon #my writing

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