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#like i was smiling throughout the whole episode
aprilstory · 4 months
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sometimes all a girl need is to watch a silly kdrama episode to feel alive again
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caramelkoo · 9 days
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warm as you
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pairing : Jungkook x reader
genre : established relationship, boyfriend jungkook yayyy.
summary : Jungkook gives you a little surprise which causes you to fall more in love with him.
warnings : Jungkook is nervous as hell, he's so in love with the oc, oc can't help but baby him, slight smut, fluff, lots of kissing <3, act of service and quality time as love languages.
a/n : hey angels, I saw the latest episode of "are you sure?!" and couldn't help but write this little piece. Jungkook is such a roundie. I hope you enjoy and let me know how you like it. xoxo.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
To be very honest, you've never been a morning person but when you're with the love of your life, your boyfriend, you can't help but eagerly wait to sleep next to him and wakeup next to him. He has a way of waking you up with kisses on your smooth skin and fingers through your brown locks.
Your eyes want to flutter open but you know once you're awake, he will stop and that's something you don't want. Jungkook's lips graze yours lightly causing you to break into a slight smile. His lips peck your forehead gently following with your cheekbones, your closed eyes, your nose, your chin and lastly the hollow of your neck.
"I love you, sweetie. Good morning, i know you're awake." he whispers and much to your surprise, he knows you've been pretending to sleep.
you chuckle and open your eyes, looking at him with so much love. His eyes sparkle like stars above you. No one has loved you like this and honestly, you don't want anybody else to do so. The bond that you share with your boyfriend is different and special.
"Morning"
He caresses your left cheekbone, a lazy smile on his face. It's soft and everything pure.
"What do you wanna do today?" you ask him.
"Is wanting to be in your arms an option?" he nuzzles his face in your boobs. Purring like a cat.
"I don't think that's a bad idea" your hands rub his back up and down, up and down.
"God, I love hugging you. You're so warm, so cozy. It's my own personal heaven" Jungkook puts his whole weight on you, being careful now to crush you in the process.
He makes you feel safe, protected whenever he wraps his arms around you. Being physically affectionate has not been hard for you when it came to him. Physical touch, as much as you hate to admit, is hard for you to receive. You've been uncomfortable with people touching you plenty of times but with Jungkook, it has never been the case. You don't know why but he's had a certain warmth to him ever since you met him. It radiates and lights you up.
"I know, baby. I love hugging you too."
You both stay like this for a while before he grunts and lifts his face from your neck.
"Want me to make you some coffee?" he asks because he knows you can't function throughout your whole day without starting it off with a cup of coffee.
One thing about Jungkook is he's going to notice. He notices the tiniest of things and he's made a mental note of making you coffee every morning just the way you like it.
"Yes, please. I want something sweet to go with it too."
"Pancakes?"
"Perfect. You're the best" you kiss his cheek twice before he gets himself up and walk outside towards the kitchen. Before he opens the door, you call him out.
"Yeah, sweetie?" he looks back, shirtless and you try not to say something entirely different and nasty.
"I love you, too" his lips turn upwards before he leaves the room.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
After you and Jungkook finish your breakfast, he suggests reading together in the hall. Since it's a slow Sunday morning and you both have nothing else to do, you agree. Quality time with him is another thing you cherish the most. He knows that when it comes to receiving, it's one of your preferred love languages.
Since the day you let him know this tiny piece of information, he has tried his best to make it happen for you. Reading, baking, pottery classes, trying out new recipes, even letting you do his makeup, he has done it all.
"What are you reading?" Jungkook asks after picking up a book for himself and sitting beside you on the couch.
"I have been wanting to read this romance book for a while. You're reading thriller again?"
"You know it's my favorite" indeed it is. The thriller section on the bookshelf gives it away.
For the next twenty minutes or so, you both read quietly. Jungkook eventually puts his head on your lap demanding your hands in his hair. You chuckle lightly before giving in and run your fingers through it.
"Your hairs are so soft"
When you look down upon him, he has closed his eyes and gotten rid of the book.
"It's your shampoo"
"My shampoo? You've been using my shampoo?" you're a little surprised but not offended. On the contrary, you find it a little cute.
"Sweetie, it smells like vanilla and I was planning on using it just once but then I got a little obsessed. Couldn't help it." he whines.
"You're adorable, you know that?"
the hall gets filled with your laughter. You continue running your fingers through his hair while also reading your book and just when you think he has gone into a deep slumber, he gets up walking towards the washroom.
"Wh- WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" you yell behind him.
"GIVE ME A MINUTE" he yells back. He didn't go in there to jerk off, did he? you decide to leave him be and resume your reading.
Fifteen minutes later though when he comes outside and stands before you, you let out the biggest scream ever. It startles him.
"Is it that bad?"
"Jungkoo-", "what-", "I'm-"
He stands there with his long hair no more on his head, instead he has cut his hair in more of like a bowl cut. Yes, you screamed but not because you don't like his hair, it was because he looks cuter than ever like this. You were just a little surprised, that's about it.
"Seriously, is it that bad?" the nervous look on his face causes you to take few steps forward and hug him so tightly you're not sure if he can even breathe. His arms wrap around you in return. Hugging you has always calmed him.
"I love it"
"What was that, sweetie?"
"I said, I love it" you tell him again. You break the hug and look at him.
"Really?" his expression has turned into a an excited one now.
"Yes, baby. It makes you look so cute but can I ask why? why did you suddenly decide to cut your hair?" you can't help but touch his new hair.
"To be honest, I have been thinking about chopping them off for a while. I know you love my long hair so it was holding me back." he places a kiss on your temple. "I wasn't sure if you would like it."
"Jungkook, I loved your long hair but I wouldn't ever stop you from doing what you want. I love everything you love and you can always grow them back, right?" you smile up at him.
You loved his long hair a little too much. You had asked him to let his hair grow further and he had happily agreed to but you would rather poke your eyeballs out before you refrain him from doing something he has wanted to for a long time. You're just a little upset due to the fact that he even had to be nervous before doing so.
Jungkook nods, "Right. So you like them?"
"Absolutely" you kiss his nose.
"God, I could eat you right now." He hides his face in the crook of your neck and groans.
"Hmm, maybe later".
Later that night when you lay next to him he doesn't let you sleep before he buries his tongue inside you and asks you to grab his hair. When you do, you get reminded of his long hair but his tongue moving in a circular motion inside you makes you forget about it all. You moan, you scream and when he takes your nipples in his mouth while pushing two fingers inside you, you come so hard you're sure you see stars. You hear him whisper "You're mine" before you pass out hoping he'll wake you up the next morning again with his kisses and touches.
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januaryembrs · 2 months
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YOU CAN HEAR IT IN THE SILENCE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [9]
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description: the TWO big steps you take together.
word count: 13.5k
trigger warnings: entire mr scratch episode including drugging and suic!de, gore, violence, blood, mention of Diana's schizophrenia, mention of hotch's upbringing
author's note: lets do this again UGH. also set throughout season 10 so even though it seems like a jump its been a whole year bcus I can't write about every day my babies spend together.
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‘Cause you can hear it in the silence, you can feel it on the way home, you can see it with the lights out,
You’re in love. True love,’
The one where you meet his mom. [you have the parenthood talk]
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her thumbnail instinctively picking at the side of her forefinger as her eyes trailed over the dress in the mirror. 
It was a little too chesty, were the sleeves too short? Would his mom not like that it was backless? Backless meant suggestive to some people. Would she hate her piercings? She could take out a couple of her earrings just for one day, cover the hole where her nose ring slipped in with foundation easily. 
Smile, she needed to remember to smile, not that god awful resting bitch face that Elizabeth used to say looked like she’d sucked a lemon between her cheeks. Smile. No, not like that, that looks fake and awkward. 
Was her make up too much? She would hate for Spencer’s mom to think she looked like a hooker. A cheap one at that. 
She felt his hands on her shoulders before the throes of her vicious mind could nab her once more, and her eyes trailed behind her in the reflective, if not slightly fingerprinted, mirror. 
“You’re thinking loud,” Spencer said as if it was a fact, though that tended to be the way with him, since he knew damn near everything there was to know. Especially about her. “Why are you so worried, it’s my mom. Besides, what’s not to like about you?” 
She huffed, shaking her head even though she really tried her best to give him a smile, instead turning to look down at her hands with wincing, cynical twinge of her lips. 
“Maybe my tattoos or my make up or my slutty dress or my piercings that make me look like I just raided Penelope’s collection of ‘goth chic jewellery’, her words not mine,” She said pessimistically. She didn’t want to dampen the mood, honestly she was looking forward to the woman who graced the world with Spencer Reid (she wondered if a handshake or a hug would be appropriate, she would ask Spence in the car she decided,) “People don’t tend to see me the way you do, honey, I can be blunt and rude and snappy and cold. And it’s your mom, she’s like the most important person in the world to you.”
“She’s joint first, actually” Spencer corrected, trying to lift her spirits even a little. He knew none of the things she was saying were necessarily true. He suspected that voice that had overcome her was not her own at all, more likely her own mother nagging into to her for years to sit up straighter, smile more, make an effort to network and socialise, or any other piece of shit observation about how she acted for Elizabeth to badger her about. 
But then she smiled at him, her eyebrows drawn together a little like she guessed he was lying or perhaps sugarcoating things. 
“You’re allowed to have her first, you know,” Bugsy reassured him, her eyes melty and soft as she looked at him and he nodded, wrapping his arms around her stomach, almost like he was trying to suck the negativity out of her whole body through diffusion of their skin alone. “She’s your mom,” 
“I know,” Spencer said simply, their eyes never breaking the gaze at one another, and Bugsy felt herself warm inside when she saw just how besotted his forest hues were, “Please stop worrying, she’s going to love you,”
“You can’t know that for sure,” She pushed back, because when had she ever allowed herself to enjoy a good thing when she had it. She knew she was being somewhat of a Negative Nancy, and she didn’t mean to be, truly. But Diana Reid was possibly the most significant person in Spencer’s life, despite what he said. And Bugsy was… Bugsy. All teeth and chaos and bite and vicious tongue when she didn’t mean to be. 
If Diana didn’t like her, she wasn’t quite sure she’d be able to look at Spencer again without blurting out the million ways she’d try to make it up to him.
“Oh, I do know for sure actually,” He said, spinning her around so he could see her first hand, not in a reflection or a mirror image, and she smiled despite herself, pressing into his lean body and taking a big whiff of his freshly washed clothes. It was the same detergent she used, the same one he’d always used, and yet it was so Spencer it made her skin crawl with what she thought felt like warm goosebumps.
“Oh yeah?” He nodded proudly, and she progressed to a grin, her chin leaning against his chest as she spoke, and he stroked her neatly braided hair away from her face to see her better, like he’d won the second he saw her smile properly, “How do you figure that one out, wonder boy?”
“I’ve mentioned you in almost every single letter I’ve written to her for three whole years. When she saw the photo of you I sent her, she asked if I’d cut you out of a vogue magazine,” Spencer said and she burst out laughing. He couldn’t say he blamed his mom, the photo he’d sent had been one of Bugsy’s best, but then he’d be willing to argue all of them were just as newsworthy as the last. And nothing compared to the real thing. “You make me happy, happier than I ever thought I was allowed to be. Believe me, I know she’ll love you, because I love you,” 
Bugsy smushed her face into his sweater to hide her modesty, and she pressed a small, barely there kiss to where her lips met even if he wouldn’t feel it. 
“Does my hair look okay?” She checked again, her voice muffled by his thick knitted clothes, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, stroking a gentle hand down her spine. 
“You look beautiful,” He said softly, pulling her away from his body and holding onto her right hand, “Give me a spin,”
He lifted her hand above her head, despite the fact she seemed reluctant and embarrassed, “Spence,”
“We’re not leaving until you give me a spin,” He teased, and his smile was infectious as she twirled around beneath his grasp, the long, floral, sundress fanning out around her knees, “And back again!”
“Spencer-” She said with a chuckle, but he seemed to ignore her, or judging by his smile that spread across his whole face he didn’t care.
“Sorry, it’s just the rules,” He said, though she was almost certain there wasn’t ever such a thing as a rulebook on how to make your girlfriend less of a whiny bitch.
He spun her back around, and by the time she whirled around to face him a second him, his arm dropped down to secure around her waist, yanking her towards him to press a scorching hot kiss to her lips. 
She kissed him back, her tongue trailing against his lip and Spencer’s obscenely large hand released her waist, trailing up her sides to cup her cheeks. Spencer kissed her like she was sucking air right out his lungs, like he was receiving life saving medicine, like he was being graced by an angel, a non-believer, a man of science reaching out to the white gates of heaven as if they were about to disappear under his touch. 
They parted with a small smack that reverberated in the bathroom, and Bugsy looked at him as if he’d infected her with a drug, because truthfully that was how his touch, his kiss, made her feel. 
They settled in his car, a few soft and loving affections later, because she really did look beautiful and he could apologise for smudging her lipstick another time, and Spencer it was the first time in a long time that Spencer felt like his future was laid out in front of him. 
She fretted some more in the lobby, the woman behind the desk at the sanitarium lighting up at the sight of Spencer walking towards her with a smile. 
“Dr. Reid,” She enthused, noting the woman next to him that squoze a book to her chest tightly like she wasn't sure what her fingers might do if they were let loose, “She’s been so excited to see you, her doctors said she’s responding well to the new medication,” 
“I heard, I’m glad to hear she’s feeling calmer,” He said, his eyes trailing past the brunette who tapped away at her keyboard idly, “Where is she?”
“She’s just in the sunroom. She’s been learning how to crochet, just like you said,” The receptionist smiled kindly at Bugsy, who looked all but terrified, though she hid it well through tight lips. 
Spencer nodded, reaching up to put a hand between Bugsy’s shoulder’s to lead her through the lounge area where a few other residents watched a black and white movie. 
“Are you sure my make up looks okay, my mascara hasn’t ran has it?” She whispered, because a few other people, some even her age, were sitting in comfy armchairs flicking through books. 
Spencer smiled at her, because she was so cute when she was nervous, usually it was the other way around, “You look lovely, you always look lovely,”
“I believe that’s what’s called voter bias, Dr Reid,” She said, because jokes and wit always seemed to release the pressure on her head when she was stressed. 
He chuckled, opening the door to a large room filled on all sides with windows, and the cosy heat hit her in the face, “Not if what I’ve said is a verifiable fact.” 
“Who’s your secondary source, Dr?” She said, because they seemed to fall into a nerdy sort of teasing when they were like this. Facts and figures were predictable, getting your boyfriend’s mother to like you based entirely on your personality was not. 
“My mom,” Spencer said, and her head whipped to his, ready to protest when he led her to the corner of the sunroom, where a woman sat with her ocean blue eyes screwed up in concentration where two blush pink hooks were crossing and bobbing between a cream thread of yarn, “Mom,”
Her eyes flew up from where she sat, immersed in the delicate movements. Spencer had said a few weeks ago her hands were becoming stiff on her new tablets, that the side effects were making her circulation poor and so Bugsy had been out to help him pick up a crochet kit from Walmart the very same day.
“Mom, this is Bugsy,” He said, and it was his turn to be almost shy as he gestured to the young woman. “The girl I was telling you about,”
Diana stopped for a moment, as if assessing the new face, the way her hair fell around her ears, and Bugsy clutched the hardback tighter to her chest, thinking that maybe she should have gone for something a little fancier than the small piece of twin that wrapped around the present. First time meeting his mom and this was the best you could do, really Bugsy? Where’s the flowers or even another ball of yarn to keep her occupied? 
Bugsy swore her breath caught, her brows furrowing together worriedly as she went to hold a shaky hand out to Diana, but then second guessed herself when she wondered if the loathing of spreading germs was shared between Spencer and his mom. She’d forgotten to check when they were in the car- stupid- stupid girl.
“H-hello, Mrs Reid,” She said quietly, shakily, holding out the book to the woman. Diana Reid looked good for her age, considering Spencer had told her on numerous occasions that she struggled to pretty herself up the way she used to before her Schizophrenia had spiralled. But her hair was a warm blonde with only small traces of grey in it, short around her neck likely for practicality, and despite the fact her face seemed somewhat grumpy, though Bugsy would describe her as lost more than anything, she lit up like a damn firework on the fourth of July the second she saw her son. 
“Spencer!” She exclaimed, holding a hand out for her son to take, which he did so without hesitation. Bugsy thought she might be going in for a hug, maybe that she’d missed the hint that Bugsy was trying to greet her, which the young girl didn’t mind one bit. She was well aware she was stepping on their time together, “Help me out of this chair, I left my glasses in my room, I want to see her,” 
Bugsy felt heat rush to her cheeks as Diana all but threw her crochet set to the little table beside what seemed to be a lukewarm mug of coffee, and Spencer helped her out of the recliner, Bugsy holding out another hand in case she needed it. She was tall once she stood to full height, taller than Bugsy would have thought she would be, and hands were on her shoulders the second Diana had released her son. 
“Oh, look at you!” Diana exclaimed, and Bugsy tried not to falter with embarrassment under her words. But his mother’s hands were soft, if not rough on the tips where she had spent her life flicking through pages on pages of literature, “I’ve always told Spence he was a looker but, my god, you’re a catch even for him,” 
“Mom,” He said indignantly, but Bugsy chuckled through flaming cheeks. Diana waved him off in favour of smiling at the girl, and the second she met eyes with the woman who had raised Spencer Reid she saw where he got his good heart from. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Reid,” She stumbled over her words, trying for a second time to give her the book, and Diana looked almost aghast that she had brought her a present, “Spencer said you’d finished all your books they let you keep here so I bought you one of my favourites-”
“How could I resist The Great Gatsby,” Diana said, running a polished thumb over the gold printed writing, a small smile playing at her lips, “I’ve been meaning to brush up on Fitzgerald,”
Spencer smiled at his mother, who seemed more full of life than she had in weeks, before she waved her hand in front of the two of them, and Bugsy wondered if she had done something wrong. 
“And none of this Mrs Reid crap. You're not the IRS, Diana is just fine, honey,” She said, and Bugsy grinned, nodding in agreement with the older woman. “Mom is even better if you’re feeling brave,” 
“O-okay, absolutely,” She said, smiling even wider when Spencer seemed almost aghast his mother was being so brazen. Though he needn’t be so prudent, Bugsy was certain she loved her already. 
“And how is my big strong FBI agent?” Diana turned to her son finally and he shook his head, his eyes full of boyish affection for the women. 
“There’s dozens of words I think would perfectly describe me yet ‘big and strong’ fall nowhere in that category, mom,” He said, smiling widely at his mother who rolled her eyes and nudged him with her shoulder. She seemed more like herself than she had in years, her eyes were clearer, her nerves weren’t shot like usual. She seemed like the mother from his best memories. 
“Alright, how does ‘contumelious’ work out for you?” She cracked back, and he laughed, shaking his head and he caught the pure warm grin radiating from Bugsy’s direction at the two of them. 
And Bugsy saw in the kind, devoted eyes that hid behind Diana’s fluffy white, blonde hair where Spencer got his gentle soul; as if no amount of medication or illness would ever make his mother let up on the tenderness she held for him. She felt it in the air alone, the way they fell into sync only blood could ever achieve, and for a flash of a thought, Bugsy wondered if Spencer would be so doting on their children. 
And for the first time all day she didn’t need to second guess herself. She already knew the answer. 
“And this was Spencer in the mathletes,” Bugsy’s hand flew to her mouth to suppress the ‘aww’ threatening to tumble from her lips, because she knew from the way his cheeks had turned a bright rouge that he was embarrassed and she hated to make him feel like she was finding humour in his shame. 
It was easy to see which one was him from the offset. Three college boys who had probably spent the best part of their first years begging sorority girls to fuck them and eating funny brownies stood at the back, atleast in their late teens judging by their late-adolescene acne and braces. Yet there, standing in front of them dressed in a tweed sweater vest and pressed brown trousers as if he was a small grandpa, was a scrawny pole of a boy, peeking out from behind a sweeping fringe in need of a trim and a pair of  bubble-like glasses. 
He was smiling wide, holding some sort of trophy in between his slender, little fingers, and Bugsy could bet her entire savings that he had answered almost all of his team’s questions. 
“Spence,” She murmured, taking the photo gently between her fingertips where she sat in between her partner and his mother at the foot of Diana’s bed, “You were so cute,” 
“You can just say dorky,” He corrected, fighting the urge to cover his cheeks with his hands, because he could feel the way they gave away his self-consciousness. 
But she shook her head, leaning into him with adoring eyes as she stared at the photo, “No, I mean cute. Look at your little hair, you were so tiny- aw!” 
He laughed awkwardly, not missing the way she put a hand on his leg in reassurance, and Diana handed her another photo of a toddler with thick dark hair, those hazel eyes she loved, huge and round on the baby's smiling face. Bugsy melted when she saw the milk teeth gleaming in the midst of his laugh, yet she burst into sheepish giggles when she realised baby Spencer had no clothes on. 
Spencer’s eyes widened when he saw the thing dangling between his legs as the picture captured him crawling towards where Diana had the camera. “Mom!” 
Diana rolled her eyes, producing another one of Spencer watering the flowers with the garden hose, barely one year old in a bucket hat and, yet again, nothing else. “Oh, Spencer, don’t give me that, look how cute those little butt cheeks were,” 
Bugsy slapped a hand over her mouth, her brows pulling together at the endearingly innocent photos, and she met Spencer’s gaze again, the urge to squish his cheeks in between her fingers suddenly itching her hands. Though, judging by the embarrassment in his expression, he wouldn’t like it very much even if she did mean the best of intentions.  
“You were so adorable,” She confessed, looking back down at the two tiny, round butt cheeks that made something well in her chest because it was Spencer, so small and vulnerable and helpless. She turned to Diana, her eyes wide with love, “How did you not want just millions of them?” 
The woman laughed, leaning against Bugsy and palming off another photo, this time of Spencer in swimming trunks at the beach, likely around two or three, a line of white sun cream running down his nose and cheeks as he looked to be grumbling about the sand on his legs. 
“Because I knew none of them could ever be as special as my Spencer, and then that just wouldn’t be fair on them.” She said simply, and Bugsy smiled at the woman, truly smiled, because despite everything her illness set against her, she loved her son more than anything in the world. “You don’t win the lottery and then pawn in your rings for a couple bucks, now do you?” 
Bugsy chuckled, shaking her head. Elizabeth had never been so doting on her. She knew she shouldn’t think about her, shouldn’t compare the two of them because they weren’t similar even in the slightest. Diana was a single mother of a deadbeat husband who left, she battled a disease day in-day out that threatened to eat away at her brain, her memories of her son who thought the world of her, and she was still a better mother than hers had ever been. 
Part of her felt that bitter sting that never really left her since she was thirteen, since she saw the maid at breakfast time more often than she ever saw her mother, the kid that got picked up and dropped off in another country like she was furniture, a barbie doll for her mother to primp and clean and boast about her big brain to her colleagues without ever showing a semblance of affection for the girl reading material eight years above her grade level. 
Diana was living proof that no matter what, it’s not a challenge to love your children the way Elizabeth had always made it out to be, that she was difficult to love even for her own mother. 
Bugsy bit the emotion back, knowing it was just the baby photos ramping up her hormones, and felt herself fall perhaps even more in love with Spencer Reid when she saw the photo of him at Christmas dressed as a Jedi. 
She was quiet on the way home, her stomach warm with fondness, her hand warm with his palm as they held hands on top of the gearstick. 
She watched the last of the sun peek through the trees in a cantaloupe orange and candy-floss pink swirl, and she let herself close her eyes under the day’s worth of laughter. 
“What are you thinking about?” Spencer said after a moment, giving her hand a small squeeze when she didn’t answer right away, and he wondered if she may have even fallen asleep, feeling immediately guilty for waking her. 
She looked at him with an uneasy smile on her face, and his brain threw up a million different reasons for it, almost all of them making him worry.
“I know my mom is a lot,” He said, his tone jittery and she started shaking her head immediately, forgetting he couldn’t see where he was looking at the road, “I know she’s-”
“She’s wonderful, Spencer. God, no, it’s not that. I loved her,” Bugsy cut him off, and his shoulder’s immediately sagged in relief. She moved her hand to tuck a single lock of hair behind his ear, and he nudged into her touch on instinct. 
“Then what’s wrong?” He asked, his brows pulled together in worry as they came to a red stop light, and he put the Beetle into neutral. He looked over at her then, and he saw the way the grin had slipped off her face, leaving her with something oddly unreadable, though if he had to put a name to it, he would say doubtful, and she swallowed thickly. 
“Do you ever worry…” She paused herself, because she already could see their picture perfect day spiralling down the drain like yesterday’s woes, “It’s nothing, just forget I said anything,”
“No, tell me,” Spencer insisted, and the road around them seemed to hold its breath waiting for her reply. He’d taken a nice route home, claiming he wanted to skip the eight pm traffic, whatever that was, had cut through one of those neighbourhoods they show on holiday brochures or estate agents' windows. The kind people with kids and volvo’s and yoga mom groups lived in.  
Her eyes snapped out the front window when four young boys zipped past them on their bikes, their knees muddy from where they’d probably spent the day playing soccer, their clothes just as messy and torn, likely waiting to be scolded by their mothers for their recklessness. And pulling up the rear was a kid smaller than the others, jogging after them, wanting to cross the road before the light turned green, his glasses slipping down his nose with every step, and some weird, small part in Bugsy’s gut wanted to throw her arms around him and walk him home to make sure he got there safely. 
Spencer’s hand was on her thigh, pulling her out of her thoughts for a second time, and she blinked a little too harshly, wishing she could just enjoy a lovely day for what it was rather than putting such a downer on things. 
“I haven’t spoken to my mom since Emily’s funeral,” She said, swallowing heavily, and understanding passed over his face then. He knew he would never have with Elizabeth what they had just had with his mother. Even if she retired tomorrow and wasn’t jetting off to another country every week, Elizabeth Prentiss was a cold, shrewd woman who could make someone, mainly her daughters, feel empty just by being in the same room. 
Her damning grey eyes, her tight lips that never smiled, her harsh brow. 
“I don’t think she even kept any of my baby photos, none that don’t have her in them at least,” She confessed, and the lights flashed to amber, then green, and he was forced to let go of her for just a moment as he pulled off again, “I don’t… I don’t think she ever liked me.”
He had no idea what to say that would make it better. Usually he was so good at wriggling her problems out from the core, proving all her worst fears were wrong with simple logic. Yet he was at an end. Because Elizabeth had never shown any sign of loving her daughters, truly loving them beyond trophies. 
“I’m sure that’s not true,” He tried, pulling over to stop at the curb because he hated speaking to her when he was distracted. “Some people just have a funny way of showing these things,” 
But she shook her head, turning her eyes to her lap, “Your mom is… Amazing. And I feel like a total asshole for complaining about mine when yours is sick most of the time. And I know things weren’t great- I mean you were just a kid, you should have never had to look after her, it’s supposed to be the other way around, you know? But you’ll know she’s always loved you, like truly, truly loved you. I mean, you’re her whole world,” She rushed, like the thoughts had been bouncing around her head all day, waiting to burst out at the seams, which they had. 
Spencer took the keys out of the ignition, shuffling in his seat to face her, and he only realised then she was watching where the four boys had taken off down the street on their bikes, the smallest one trailing at the back like a lost puppy. 
“Don’t you ever worry sometimes I’ll be..” She started, and he knew where it was going before she forced herself to finish. Taking her hand in his, weaving his fingers between hers and squeezing them tight. 
“Like your mom?” He said for her because the words were lingering in the air like alphabet soup. She nodded silently, grateful that he always seemed to know how her brain was ticking over. She reminded herself to make it up to him later, “Never,”  
“But-” She started, and he grabbed her chin then, forcing her to look at him. He smiled dopily, because usually it was him who needed to be told how other people felt, and she swore his eyes had never looked so sweet. 
“Never,” He repeated, feeling the smile spreading under his fingertips as it took the second turn for her to hear it, “If anything, I worry more about becoming like my dad,”
Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head again. Sometimes Spencer wondered if she knew she was so expressive. It was one of his favourite parts about her.
“Never,” She echoed back to him, and they shared a sombre smile, squeezing each others hand just that bit tighter, “I tell you what, the second either one of us starts becoming our parents, we have the right to call them a jackass,”
He laughed, nodding his head and leaning over the centre console to press his forehead to hers, “Alright, deal. Although I think I hear Freud rolling in his grave at that statement.” 
She kissed him, hard, because she would never be able to tell him exactly how he made her feel with words alone. Over two hundred thousand words in the English Language, at least five other languages she could speak fluently, and yet not one of them knew how to describe this feeling. Like she had been absorbed so completely, effortlessly, by Spencer Reid. That she was disease ridden, riddled with Reid. 
And the thought made her giggle into the kiss, because she would have to tell him some other time. Her hand ran through his hair, pulling him closer, and his hand skirted down to her waist to tease underneath her shirt. 
They pulled away after a moment, staring with the same dazed look in their eyes. 
“We have three more days in Vegas,” She started, fixing his collar and hair with idle fingers and pressing an absent peck to his lips, “Do you think we could go back one more time? To see your mom? If that’s okay with her, of course,” 
And he smiled widely at her, nodding and pulling her in for another long kiss. They had a dinner reservation in a half hour, but he didn’t mind being five minutes late for once in his life, not if it meant he was with her. 
The one with Scratch. [he buys a ring]
He’d walked past the jewellers three times that week on his way back from the coffee shop. Bugsy had a fair bit of paperwork to catch up on, despite him offering to halve her load with her because Hotch had already warned them once about the complaints he got from the other agents that she was using Reid’s memory as an unfair advantage, although he would argue that her brain was just as capable as his. 
So, he’d been sent on a coffee run alone. He wasn’t complaining, it was just down the road, barely even a five minute walk, and it meant he got to look at the range of neatly cut diamonds in peace.
He wasn’t looking to buy it soon, at least that was what he’d told himself the first time he’d seen the pretty one in the corner. He was just having a browse, perhaps just looking at the watches they had on display and his eye had happened to fall to the women’s section below. The second time he’d stopped for a look, it was just to see if anyone had bought that one he’d seen the first time, and when he realised they hadn’t, his heart gave a somewhat relieved sigh that he decided he would confront later. 
By the third time, the shop keeper stuck his head out the door, making Spencer jump. 
“Either you’re buying or you’re fogging up my window, kid,” The old man’s voice was gruff, but he had kind eyes, that of a romantic, and Spencer supposed you didn’t sell a dozen engagement rings a day and not feel hopeful. 
“J-just looking,” He stammered, taking a step away from the rings and double checking he hadn’t gotten any smudges on the glass, “Not to buy right now, just for future reference,”
“No one comes back that many times for future reference, son,” He said with a chuckle and Spencer hated the part of him that said that he was right, “Why not for right now?”
Spencer huffed quietly, wondering if her coffee would be cold by the time he got back at the rate he was going, “It’s still a little early. I don’t want to freak her out,”
She had been his girlfriend for one year, seven months and two weeks (and four days but who was counting). It had been her thirtieth birthday just a couple months ago, as far as he was concerned Bugsy had never dropped any hints about wanting to marry any time soon like he knew other women did at this time in their life. 
He was happy where they were, in their apartment, in their semi-public relationship, with their boys that were starting to look a little grey and rickety on their paws. Spencer didn’t want anything to ruin that, even if that one ring did seem to call out to him like a siren song. 
The jeweller grinned slyly, like he knew something Spencer didn’t, but he nodded at the kid nevertheless, “Well, that little number in the corner you’ve had your eye on has had two offers already, incase that sways your hand at all,” 
And Spencer felt the jolt of injustice in his head at the idea of someone else taking that ring, one that he couldn’t get out of his head the entire way back to the office, one that only went away when he saw her smiling up at him. 
One that only dissolved when he imagined how she would look wearing it. 
“Tell Penelope I said hi,” Director Axelrod murmured, turning on his heel and heading back to his car as Hotch flashed a look down at the paper, the name ‘Peter Lewis’ scribbled out on the line and he passed the paper to Bugsy where she peered around his shoulder. 
“Get this to Garcia, Lewis has his final victim already,” He said and she nodded, the two of them heading back to the car. Bugsy pulled her cell out her pocket, immediately calling their tech whizz where the rest of the team were at the office an hour away. 
“Peter Lewis, born and raised in Jacksonville, Florida. To call him a Math genius would be an understatement,” Garcia reported, her press on nails clicking against the keyboard as she worked in the candlelight since Lewis had hacked into their electric systems. 
“Where was he in the foster system?” Hotch asked, Bugsy holding the phone up over the centre console so they could both speak to their team.
“He was… ugh this WiFi hotspot is the worst,” They waited, Hotch heading for the freeway, “He was not in the foster system. He had two very biological parents and they ran the foster home until it- oh dear,”
“Looks like we found Mr Scratch,” Rossi sighed, and Bugsy’s brows furrowed, waiting for a response. 
“So one of the boys in the house said Peter’s dad would dress up as the devil then the other kids would follow suit, this has to be where all the victims stayed before they were adopted and their names were changed,” JJ chimed in. 
“Did Lewis’s father serve any time?” Bugsy piped up, chewing the inside of her cheek because the whole case had given her the heebie jeebies. Grown ups reporting sights of shadow monsters and waking up with dead loved ones. She thought by now she had heard it all. 
“The case was pending and then he was killed in jail for being a paedophile. Peter’s residency is still listed as Florida,” Garcia said, her mouse whirling around at the speed of light judging by the soft ticks they heard on their end. 
“He broke into FBI files to find someone in witness protection, did any of the kids from the home end up in WITSEC?” Hotch asked, clicking the blinker down to chand lanes and overtake the ford infront of them. 
“That would be… no? No, none of them,” Garcia replied, and the team shared a confused pause. 
“Who the hell is he still hunting?” 
Hotch spoke up, his own mind whirring as to who could possibly be Lewis’ endgame, “Garcia, who ran the investigation in Florida?”
“Hold on, that would be Dr. Susannah Regan, who went into witness protection on a very nice estate in Columbia, Maryland,” Bugsy and Hotch looked at one another, sharing the same thought and the unit chief floored the gas pedal, knowing Regan didn’t have a whole load of time left if Peter had gotten to her already. 
“Send Reid the location, we’re on our way,” Hotch ordered, and Penelope was already ten steps ahead, Rossi and JJ grabbing their vests and heading for the garage. 
Bugsy hung up, checking her gun was still holstered as Hotch launched them the final five minutes to Dr Regan’s home. 
And yet she couldn’t help feel like they were walking into the belly of the beast the victims had been describing. 
Garcia hadn’t been kidding when she said it was a nice estate. By the time they’d gotten out the car, the entire street was silent, a quiet only lots of acres and high gates bought you. 
“You stay behind me, we watch each other's six. We get Dr Regan and we get out, are we clear?” Hotch muttered, his eyes darling to the living room window where the curtains had been pulled closed, one single lamp left lit. 
She nodded, the two of them edging towards the door that had already been left open a crack, “Crystal,” 
He took a second to breath, wondering if they should wait for back up, but Savannah didn’t have alot of time, not if the unsub was already inside like he suspected, before he raised his hand up to the knocker and snapped it a couple times, pushing the door open. 
“Dr Regan?” 
“It’s open, come in,” The woman’s voice called, though it sounded too chipper to be authentic, some sort of uncanny valley as if it was an automated response from an answering machine. 
Checking Bugsy was still behind him, he pushed on, his footsteps light and quiet, eyes scanning the large antechamber, the grand piano sat in front of a huge fireplace cold to the touch, the lights all switched off despite the owner being home. 
Maybe Dr Regan was cheaping out on her bills. But Bugsy doubted it. Something in her gut didn’t sit right. 
“Are you alright?” Aaron called, his torso squeezing against his vest as he scanned what he could see from the room, and she held up behind him, flicking a look over her shoulder every once in a while for movement from the other rooms. 
“Agent Hotchner, I got Agent Rossi’s message,” She said, again in that cheery voice, despite her words claiming she understood she was in peril, and the sound of it made Bugsy’s chest seize with suspicion. 
“Doctor, you’re in danger, you need to come with us,” She explained, her eyes squinting to see in the damning lowlight of the home. 
“I understand,” That robot voice spoke, “I’m in the study,” 
They paused for a second, exchanging another look before pressing on because they had no time to lose over silly hesitations. Passing through the entrance into the room lined with bookshelves on bookshelves, expensive tapestry on expensive tapestry, their heads flicked over to a frail older woman that somewhat resembled the woman they’d been sent from Penelope, when she had was freshly turned twenty five with a sparkly new bookdeal under her nose. 
She sighed in gratitude when the entered, and Bugsy held back a moment as Hotch moved in, keeping her finger on the trigger, “I’m so glad you’re here, you need to see this,” Savannah produced a long, glass sharp letter opener that could easily pass for a knife with the eight inch edge of it, “He wants you to see this.”
And with that, without hesitation or caution she jammed the knife through her own windpipe as if puppeteered by a master, and Bugsy leapt forward to try stop the bleeding just as Aaron did. 
Only she never got that far, because no sooner had she stepped forward a hand reached out from the darkness, grabbing her by the scruff of her hair and throwing her to the floor while she had been caught off guard. Pain exploded behind her eyes as her nose met the hardwood floor, and she swore she cracked a tooth or two. Her hand scrambled out for her gun, only to watch a large black boot stomp down on her digits that made her hiss in pain. 
She heard a scuffle up ahead where Peter had managed to grab Hotch equally unaware, and she watched her unit chief tumble to the floor, smacking his head on the table on his way down. 
And it was then that she smelled it. A raw chemically odour that ran up her bloodied nose, went into her mouth when she tried calling out for Hotch, and it made her cough up a thick mucus before it had even slid down her throat. 
She heard shots fired, and it was enough for her to reach out for her own gun again, hoping that Lewis was distracted enough to not pay attention to her, only to realise somewhere in the scuffle he had kicked her weapon across the floor. 
When had he done that? Why hadn’t she seen him? Probably because the pain behind her eyes had damn near wiped her vision into a blur of white. 
It was then the nausea hit her, the vertigo washing over her like she’d stood up too fast, only she wasn’t standing up at all, in fact she was pretty sure she was on her hands and knees trying to crawl towards Hotch. 
Hotch, who lay on the floor with his own eyes rolling like the room was spinning for him too, and she wondered how on earth anyone could have beaten Hotch. He was a rock, immovable, irreplaceable, forever. 
“Hotch-” She garbled out, her voice tragic and weak in a way he’d never heard before. 
And he opened his mouth to speak, only to find his own voice gone when he saw the figure leering over her body, a glint of a knife in his hand, and Aaron wanted to know how he had managed to emerge out of the shadows when he could have sworn Lewis was right next to him. 
The drug, it had to be the drug. God his eyelids were heavy, what had they been in this house for?
But Aaron felt a scream lodge in his mouth, sounding more like a yelp, something that could have been a mix of ‘no’ and raw anger because Peter had brought one of those big black boots behind him and kicked Bugsy so hard in the gut she flew to her side like roadkill, the wind leaving her lungs with a whimper of pain, and her eyes never left Hotch’s gaze as he did so. 
“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m going to need some alone time with Mr Hotchner here,” Lewis said, and before Aaron could plea or beg, he watched the man lean down and drive a swift line across her throat, as if he were simply gutting a pig, and her carotid artery was sliced clean in two, her blood spewing all over Aaron’s shoes, seeping into the floor. 
And Aaron went to scream, felt the tears well in his eyes because he’d failed her, only this time, unlike Hailey, he was forced to watch every second of life trickle from her face as she bled out onto the floor, choking and clawing at the floor for reprieve. 
What would he say to the team, to Spencer? What would he say to Emily?
Aaron let himself sob, shaking his head in denial and squeezing his eyes tightly shut, hoping to god medical would get here soon. It would be too late by then, he already knew it. 
Bugsy was dead. There wasn’t any miracle fix or band aids that were going to fix that. 
And yet in the next moment the sound of her body writhing in desperation against the floor, the sight of which he couldn’t even bring himself to watch, it had gone quiet. 
And Aaron peeled his eyes open, wondering if she had passed, if she was still in pain, if she wanted someone to hold her hand as she went, and he urged his heavy muscles to do something god damnit anything to help her, except his body felt like lead and even opening his eyes was too much for him. 
But there was nothing there. Not the puddle of blood he’d just watched spill over the flooring, not her hand reaching out for him, clawing at her throat for reprieve and certainly not a body of a girl he once loved like a daughter who would stay with him for a lifetime. 
All of it, just… gone. 
“Don’t you worry, Mr Hotchner, I’m saving the girl for later. Can’t have a pretty thing like that go to waste,” Lewis smiled toothily, and Aaron wanted to wrap his hands around the bastard’s throat, wring the life out of him until he was a crumpled mess on the floor, “But for now, it’s you and me, Aaron. And I think you should answer your phone. Your team are on their way for you,”
Her scream was piercing, cut through two walls. He could hear it the second they stepped out of the car. He’d all but thrown himself out the vehicle before Anderson had even stopped, probably would have barged right through the front door without even drawing his gun if it hadn’t been for Morgan grabbing him. 
“Reid, Reid, no-” Derek said, even though his voice wavered, his head flicking back at the house, “You can’t just head in there without backup, it could be a trap, man,” 
“She’s in there, can’t you hear her?” Spencer said, his eyes wide with terror as the sound of her screaming kicked up a whole other decibel and Spencer's stomach churned at the thought of what might be the root cause of it, “Please, Morgan, I can’t-” 
He didn’t even realise his eyes had welled up at the sound alone until he couldn’t finish his words, and Derek was staring at him with an equally solemn expression. 
JJ rounded the other SUV, Rossi at her tail, their guns drawn low to their thighs as they gave Derek a nod; ready to enter. 
“Just promise me you’ll keep your head, Reid,” Morgan said with a cautious tone. Realistically, Spencer should have stayed back at the office with Kate. He was too emotionally invested in the case, though no one wanted to be the one to argue that with him, knowing Spencer would only fight back that they would all struggle to keep their cool once they entered the house. 
Because the UnSub had Hotch and Bugsy. He’d taken family. He’d made it personal. 
And then, just as Spencer nodded, unholstering his own gun and making sure his vest was tightened at his waist, perhaps the worst happened. 
A shot fired from inside the house, loud and unmistakable over the deafening cries and Bugsy’s screaming stopped. 
Spencer didn’t even remember entering the house, not really, despite his promise to Morgan. He felt like his heart was in his throat, images of Maeve’s brain matter splattered over the warehouse floor flooding his head, because apparently a revolver can cut through two heads at once and still pack a punch.
Spencer was realistic, had sprung into a clinical sort of worry that told him exactly how many times he’d told her he loved her (two thousand, six hundred and seventeen times) and that maybe that wasn’t enough. It told him the amount of kisses they’d shared could have easily been doubled if he dared to steal them more often before bed, if he’d been honest with her years before he had, if he’d just taken five minutes off his showers. 
He had barely survived Maeve dying. If Bugsy was gone… there would be nothing left of him. Nothing important anyway. Just a body, limbs, a heart that would never beat again. He wagered even his blood would stop because the idea of her gone from the world had already made him cold. 
He heard movement in the living room, and judging by the way Derek’s head whipped over to their right, he had too. And before they could raise their guns up to aim, Derek edging forward to kick the door in with pure, simmering rage, a voice sounded out from the other side. 
“In here!”
Hotch. Hotch, who sounded like he was weeping, or at least had a frog in his throat, hummed his words almost. The men drew a breath of relief, Derek reaching forward to open the living room door, his weapon still tight in between his fingers as he pushed. 
“Hotch?” He said, though Spencer’s eyes cast around the room the second he confirmed his unit chief was okay. He had a nasty gash on his head, likely from where he’d fallen, and his pupils were dilated. Drugged. “Hotch, where’s Bugsy?”
“H-he took her-” Aaron slurred, attempting to get to his feet, holding out a hand to the sofa and using the furniture to claw himself up to a stand, “Upstairs I think- I need to get her- Where’s my gun-”
Morgan rushed in to grab Hotch under his arms as Rossi and JJ burst in from the kitchen, Rossi calling out behind them for medical attention. 
“Hotch, you’re not going anywhere, you need to- Reid,” Morgan yelled, but Spencer ignored him. Because he could apologise later. 
Lewis had Bugsy alone, had taken her upstairs, that was what Hotch said. And Spencer couldn’t stand by and wait while they had no idea what was happening to her. He heard JJ’s footsteps pounding behind him, following him up the stairs, and he knew he should be paying more attention for any hint if Lewis was still in the building. But he didn’t. All he could think about was those screams. Raw. Guttural. Like she was being skinned alive. 
His eyes trailed the empty bedrooms, any sign of movement whether it be Lewis or the woman he would trade his own life for in a heart beat if it came down to it. But there was nothing there, not even as JJ swept the other handful of rooms, leaving them with one small storage room at the end of the hallway, and the two of them cast a glance at one another. 
JJ nodded to him, and he reached out a shaky hand, praying on everything in the vast universe he’d spent his entire life learning about that someone heard him begging to keep his Bugsy alive. 
He slid the door open, cocking his gun up to the figure in the corner, his own weapon at his feet as he smiled in a smug manner. 
JJ took stock of their surroundings, waiting for the trap they were walking into to spring, only he held his hands out in surrender. 
Because he had already gotten what he wanted. He had killed Dr Regan, and taken two cops down with him. 
“Where is she?” Spencer spat, handing JJ cuffs as the woman grabbed him harsher than she should do, because the pleased look on his face was infuriating, only made worse by the chuckle that bubbled out of his mouth. 
“She’s in the closet,” He nodded his head to the smallest bedroom, and Spencer’s eyes narrowed, “She sure is a darling, isn’t she? So easy to tame once that smart mouth of hers was gone,” 
Spencer wanted to shoot him between the eyes there and then, put him down like the sick dog he was, but instead he fled after where Lewis had directed him, because he didn’t know if she was injured herself or if it was already too late.
For once in his life, Spencer Reid knew nothing. 
And then he saw her. 
She was alive, thank god she was alive, a dent in her nose that suggested he’d thrown her to the ground face first, her knees skinned, her palms scratched. 
But that wasn’t what worried him.
Because no sooner had he opened the door to the closet, reaching forward to yank her hands off her ears, or maybe pull her for a hug, or maybe break down into sobs and tell her how sorry he was he couldn’t have stopped any of it, she’d started screaming again. 
He didn’t think after so many years on the job he’d ever heard something so gut-wrenching. For a moment he thought he might even be sick. Because it was full of pure terror. Not the childish fright you get from a scary movie or a loop de loop on a rollercoaster, but blood curdling fear like he had never heard before. 
It was enough to have Morgan running up the stairs with his gun drawn, only to see Spencer frozen, his hands reaching out to grab her, and it was only then the agent realised Reid was trying to speak to her. 
“Baby, baby it’s okay, it’s me, it’s Spencer, you know me,” He said, his lip quivering, his words warbling with tears, “Please, please come back to me, I don’t know what to do- please just tell me what to do-” 
“Reid, she’s not herself. Hotch said Lewis made him see things, awful things, just like he did with the other victims,” Morgan said, holstering his gun, his own resolve crumbling when he came closer and realised she had her eyes screwed tightly shut, curling herself into a ball in the corner like a kid trying to hide from the boogey-monster.
But Spencer didn’t listen, he couldn’t accept that they had found her alive and still he had been too late, didn’t want to accept that he had her in his grasp and yet she was still living her a personal hell with no end in sight. 
“Please, please, come back to me,” He sniffled, leaning forward onto his knees to try hold her hands in his, maybe get her to hear his voice and wake up from whatever nightmare she was stuck in, “Come on, I got you,”
“No, no, no, you’re not real, you’re not real,” She screeched, shoving his hands off her, and it was then he saw the dribble of tears running off her nose, “You’re not, I won’t kill him, I won’t-”
It was the ravings of a mad woman. But Spencer didn’t doubt for one second that whatever was happening inside that big brain of hers felt entirely real. He heard Morgan draw a sharp breath, turning to face away from the girl and steady himself where his dark eyes lined with woe and salt. 
Spencer hated seeing her cry, hated not knowing how to help her even more, and he didn’t care if she pushed him away even more. He had to hold her, hold her and make her listen, make her understand she was safe because he was there. 
Spencer swore then and there that he wouldn’t let anything touch her ever again as long as he lived. 
It took everything in him to ignore the way her hands scratched at his wrists desperately, and he wondered if in her mind he’d taken the form of some beast ready to swallow her whole. But he was sure he could calm her down with some coaxing, get her to see what was real if he was patient and gentle enough. He scooped an arm under her legs that shook, and it only took him a second to realise he had peed herself in the throes of her nightmare, the sight of it causing another cry to roll from his tongue. He didn’t care about the mess, because his entire focus was on her as her hands thrashed against his chest, trying everything to get him off her, even when his other hand wrapped around the back of her head and pressed her tightly into his shoulder, squeezing her against him in his lap like she was an inconsolable child. 
“Please, please, I can’t, I can’t do it again, I don’t understand,” She wailed, her voiced croaking and pathetic and he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d damaged her vocal chords, “I don’t understand,” 
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” He cooed softly, pressing his head next to her ear and rocking her slowly, “It’s me, it’s Spencer. I’m real, this is real,”
Her hands stopped their fight against his body, his own grip tight and not showing any signs of letting go any time soon as he waited for her to wear herself out, for her body to lose its adrenaline and slip out of its fight response. She pushed him limply a few more times, with little more than the strength of a toddler, and he knew she was coming back down, at least something close to it. 
“I’m so tired,” Her voice was muddled with tears, slurring and stumbling over each other and it was then that JJ walked in with three paramedics behind her. 
The blonde’s face evened out when she saw the girl was alive, nothing but a few surface wounds, but it was then she saw over Spencer’s shoulder the way her eyes were clenched tightly together, the red marks on Spence’s alabaster skin where she had put up a fight behind cradled in his arms. 
And JJ knew then that something inside Bugsy had changed that day. 
“I know, you were so brave, you were so brave for me,” Spencer nodded, his cheeks flooding as he tried to keep his tone strong, stroking the back of her hair softly, “You did so good, I’m so sorry,” 
“I’m so tired and I don’t understand,” She said, like she was putting sentences together for the first time, and it was like suddenly the fight had been sucked out of her as she slumped against him, not even realising in her haze that she needed to be showered off desperately. 
“I know, honey,” He murmured, sniffling and pressing his face into her neck, “You can sleep now, I got you,”
She hummed like she didn’t quite believe him, like she still thought he was some figment of her imagination, but she hadn’t the strength to fight back, to call his bluff. And so she drifted in and out of sleep, as the paramedics got her on a stretcher, Spencer hovering over her face incase she woke up in a panic again, cracking her eyes open right as they got her on the back of the ambulance and suddenly it wasn’t Spencer’s face she saw flitting in and out of her eyeline, it was Hotch. 
“Hotch-” She tried, her hand swinging out at her side with her attempt of grabbing onto his face because there was a trail of blood down his cheek. Her voice was fried, just like Spencer had suspected, her words sounding as if she had swallowed stones, “Hotch, your head,”
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I should have known he would be there,” Hotch said, as her eyes rolled back, straining desperately to keep herself awake. But she had said it herself. She was just so tired. “I shouldn’t have taken you in there,”
“I don’t think I like dreaming anymore,” She garbled childishly, a small frown on her face, and Hotch bit his lip to hide a whimper, raising a hand to her cheek, and Spencer sat at the foot of the stretcher, his neck and wrists sore where she’d clawed him, but he didn’t care. 
Hotch gave her a long kiss to her forehead, one Spencer pretended not to see for the sake of paperwork, because he knew Hotch needed it, even as she’d been sucked right back into the reverie of sleep, their eyes never left her frail form, not even when the paramedics started hooking things up to her wrists to take her charts. 
Spencer knew then he should have bought that ring. 
She’d been staring at the ceiling for about five minutes before he tried to pry an answer out of her. 
He’d tried not to smother her the second she woke up, had seen the hesitation and distrust swirling in her gaze when she saw him there, and he wondered if she thought it was another one of her dreams she had yet to wake up from. But he was real, and he was worried, and he loved her. God, did he love her. Loved her so much he couldn’t stand for one more moment to see her so dissociated from a world where she was his and he was hers and everyone was missing her.  
“What did he make you see?” Spencer tried, his voice as soft as he could try make it without crying, because her gaze remained in her lap, the side effects of the drugs making her a little woozy, “Baby, I can’t help you unless you talk to me, please just, let me help you,” 
Her throat was in agony the second she opened her mouth to speak, ripping with pain when she cleared her throat and in an instant, Spencer’s hand was on her thigh drawing comforting circles with his thumb. 
“Emily was there, she came to- r-rescue me,” She started shakily, her hands trembling beneath the covers and she breathed slowly through her mouth, “S-she wasn’t wearing a vest, and when I asked her she said she’d gotten the first flight out of London to get me; and then… Doyle,”
She swallowed, and he took her hand in his, giving her a reassuring squeeze, and she tried not to let her eyes well up only to find it was already too late. 
“He stabbed her like he did that night, but it was different this time. She was on the floor, trying to get away, begging me to call for help but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything, and I was trying so hard to scream and tell someone, but I couldn’t…” She sniffled, squeezing his hand so tight it hurt, but he didn’t care, “And he wouldn’t stop. He just kept going, over and over again, and I had to watch every second of it knowing it was my fault,” 
The floor was red, a horrible midnight ichor of Emily’s blood seeping from her body, more blood than a person should ever be able to hold. Last time Doyle had killed her, there had been a hairline chance that she would pull through and Emily had beaten all the odds stacked against her. 
But this wasn’t like last time. There was no miracle escape to Europe. Bugsy would be surprised if there was even anything left of her to put in the casket. 
Her eyes were terrified as she watched Doyle drive the knife into Emily’s skin, the scream lodging in her throat for a reason she couldn’t place. She begged herself to do something, say something, tell the man that she would rip him limb from limb if she ever got the feeling back in her legs, wail for help because that was her sister, her big sister, and she’d stopped moving a while ago. 
Stop, stop it, stop it.
But the words wouldn’t come out. She was frozen. Numb. Like someone had unplugged her from the socket, and the only part of her that did work was her eyes, why did it have to be her eyes. 
And the blade was red, so red she thought she’d never see anything else other than red again, as so was the floor, and his arms, and Emily’s clothes. Red. All over. Driving into her stomach with a wet squelch that made Bugsy want to vomit. 
Over and over and over.
She burst out crying then, the first real emotion she’d shown in days, and he was out of his chair in seconds, cradling her to his chest and shuffling to sit next to her on her bed.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it wasn’t real, baby,” He soothed, and she shook her head, her tears soaking his shirt through, and all he could do was stroke her hair down and press gentle kisses to her brow, “You were so brave,”
“And his face changed, and he wasn’t Doyle, it was Hotch. And he-he gave me his gun, and said I had to pick between him or you because one of you had to die and-and I wouldn’t do it, I wouldn’t pick-” Her words warbled into his shirt, an amalgamation of sobs and deep breaths in between sentences, but she needed to get it out. It would eat her alive if she didn’t.
“Choose,” It was Hotch’s voice. The same rough edge, same bite he used with the UnSubs they chased, the tone he’d never used on her. 
She shook her head, because the feeling had tingled back up her spine into her neck by now, and with it brought her voice, her sorrow. 
“No, no, Hotch, please don’t make me, I can’t, I won’t-” She sniffled, looking at the thunderous eyes of her unit chief she’d known for years. He didn’t look like himself, like someone was wearing him as a mask, yet she knew it was him by his steady hands that drew his gun from its holster. He had always been sure of himself. 
How had she got here? Had Lewis got to Hotch, brainwashed him into slaughtering and terrorising his own team. Whatever it was, Bugsy knew in her chest that whatever was standing in front of her was not Aaron Hotchner. 
“Me or him,” He said simply, as if it was that easy, as if he wasn’t pressing a gun to Spencer’s head. 
The sob fell from her lips before she could help it, looking to Hotch’s feet where he held the love of her life bound, his eyes rimmed with fear. 
“I can’t, please, I can’t,” She wept, her cheeks soaked, the salt trickling down her neck and into her shirt. Or was it blood. Had she hit her head? Why did her head hurt?
She couldn’t care, couldn’t think of anything other than the fact a monster had taken over the man she thought the world of. She knew if anything happened she would never be able to hold it against him if anything happened, even if it would always be his face in her mind killing Spencer. Because it wasn’t him. It was Lewis. It wasn’t him. 
Hotch’s finger clicked a bullet into the chamber, pointing the gun at Spence’s crown, and she warbled in protest, because her legs were still numb, her body from the waist down useless, but this time she could scream and fight and yell all the ways she begged for this to stop. 
“Hotch, please, please don’t. It’s not real, it’s not real,” She yawped, her chest in agony, her head spinning because she could have sworn Emily was just here, could have sworn she had been coming to save her. Why was Emily here? And she’d usually be embarrassed to admit it at her big age, but she wanted her sister. She wanted her big sister more than anything, “Hotch,” 
But the man who looked and sounded like Aaron Hotchner wasn’t listening. Instead he looked at her with a steely glare, cocking the gun once more between his fingers, “If you’re too much a spoiled little bitch to choose, then I suppose I’ll have to do it for you,”
And with that he pulled the muzzle away from Spencer’s head, and before she could say another word, utter another plea, he angled the weapon under his chin, pointing it straight for his brain, and pulled the trigger. 
She thinks she screamed, though her hearing had gone with a staticky blur, his blood spraying across the wall like something out of a slasher movie. She remembered howling in shock, her face soaked with ichor and salted tears, and she expected Spencer to rush forward, grab her in his arms and cradle her with soft words. 
But he did. Those hazel eyes she would know in every life time stared blankly at her, all trace of terror gone from his gentle face, and in a whirl of movement, he was standing where Hotch had been, his body gone in a wisp of smoke, like he was nothing more than a magician’s magic act, like her chest hadn’t just cleaved in two at the sight of him dying. 
And Spencer took his place, the lips she’d kissed a thousand times pressed into a scowl, the hands she wanted to melt under, to hold her and tell her he was going to fix everything and make it make sense again holding the loaded gun. 
And at his feet, bound by the same rope he had been was JJ. Freightened, beaten. Mother, wife, best friend, sister. JJ.
“Choose,” Spencer said, but it was cold and unfeeling. Nothing like the saccharine tone he used with her, and she felt the pit of pain and suffering and dread that had opened in her stomach grow only deeper, “Me or her,”  
She had cried for about two hours after that, and he had held her for all seven thousand, two hundred seconds of it, stroking her hair, reassuring her that Lewis was gone, the drug disposed of, and more importantly, telling her he would never let anything like that happen to her again, over his cold, lifeless body. 
And he meant it. With everything in him, Spencer would never let an UnSub get so close to harming the woman he loved. Not a bruise, or a cut. Not even a scratch. 
And for the three days they’d kept her in for observation she’d slept, and slept some more like she hadn’t known a wink of rest in years. And with it came the nightmares, of all the people she loved splattering their own brains over the walls, Chose, chose, me or them?
But by the fourth day she was allowed more than one visitor in her room, the spot that had solely been filled by Spencer, who would take to his grave that he’d gone home and washed their clothes of the mess she’d made when she wasn’t herself. 
And on that fourth day, the team had arrived with love by the bucket load, because Bugsy was family, and family never let each other suffer alone.
“Oh, look at you!” It was Penelope first, ofcourse it was Penelope first, “Spencer, where’s that cardigan I told you to bring her, she could get cold, and that purple is so her colour- oh what am I saying, come here!” 
Penelope bounded over to her bedside, not completely blind to the way Spencer tensed up as she threw her arms around the girl, fighting his urge to chide Garcia into being more gentle because he knew he’d been hogging time with her while the others had been forced to wait. 
“Pen,” Bugsy said, breathing out and hugging the woman back as hard as she could, “Why do you smell like lavender?” 
Garcia released her clutches (reluctantly) and produced a big tote bag of trinkets, one of which Bugsy suspected was a candle. 
“Spencer said they might be keeping you another couple of days and so I brought you some goodies to cheer this place up,” She said with a chirp, reaching in her bag for two stuffed teddies, and Bugsy’s eyes melted when she realised they resembled Niko and Sergio, their colourings not quite identical but the thought had been there, “So you don’t miss your boys too much.”
Bugsy smiled, her chest spreading with warmth “Thankyou so much, Penelope,” 
And Garcia went to respond, her smile wide and relieved, when another voice spoke up behind her, “Quite hogging her, mama, there are people waiting to see the kid,” 
Penelope rolled her eyes which made Bugsy snicker slightly, moving out the way for Derek to lean over her bedside and give her a tight squeeze. 
“You gave us a scare and a half, baby cakes,” He said with a sigh, and she hugged him back the best she could, though his arm muscles were the size of her head. 
“I’m sorry,” She murmured, and he patted her on the back gently, before letting her go for the next person waiting to pounce on her. 
“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to be sorry,” JJ shushed, her slender arms all but crushing her into her chest, and she heard the breath of relief from the woman’s throat as she stroked a hand over her spine, “Just get better for us, okay?”
And Bugsy knew she didn’t mean the crack in her nose Peter Lewis had given her when he’d grabbed her by the nape of her neck and slammed her face into the wooden door the second Hotch’s back was turned. She meant the screaming. The nightmares. The chill that ran down her spine even now when she looked at every one of her friends and remembered that night. Picturing their brains on the wall, their blood on her face-
“Henry drew you a picture,” JJ said, pulling away and presenting her with her own gift basket full of homemade goodies and fresh pyjamas because the ones she had from the hospital were starting to itch, “He said you needed magic kisses,” 
Plucking the card from the front of the wrapping, her lips quirked into a smile when she saw two stick figures, a small dot with yellow hair labelled ‘henry’ with an arrow, and a tall woman with a triangle dress and two glittery wings labelled ‘bugy’, and she was almost certain it was because they had played fairies and princes the last time she had gone over. 
She flipped the page, and saw his hand writing scrawled in a green crayon, a few spelling errors here and there where he had tried his best. 
‘to bugy
mommy said you wer hurt at work and needed somethink to make you happy agan.
I gave the card majick kisses before mommy takes it to the hospital to make you better agan. 
also plees coud we play princes again some time soon.
Love Henry’ 
She chuckled, her finger stroking over the letters gently, because she could imagine him at his little blue table writing it out for her, and she handed it off to Spencer to put on her bedside table. 
“Thankyou JJ,” She said earnestly, and the blonde nodded, squeezing her leg under the blanket gently before she moved over for Rossi to shuffle in, ruffling the girl’s hair because he would joke later that his back couldn’t handle all the movement when really he felt like she’d been mauled with enough affection for one day. 
“You okay, kid?” He said, his eyes roving over the bruise on her nose that had bled into her eyes, and she nodded, smiling up at him somewhat convincingly. 
“I’m still kicking aren’t I?” She said, and the older man chuckled, shaking his head, “Can’t get rid of me that easily,”
And it was almost true, the small seed of double planting in her own head because for a second in that house she had thought things were done for her. And Spencer had thought the same, judging by the way he nervously cleared his throat, playing with the collars of his shirt.
But Rossi nodded with her, “You kidding? There’s enough life left in you to resurrect all of my dead end marriages,” The team snickered, Rossi squeezing her arm the way grandads do, “Kate sends her love, she had to take Meg to her dance recital, she said she’s dropping by later with good coffee,” 
Bugsy took a sigh of pleasure, because she would kill for a steaming cup of good coffee, and Rossi smiled at her attitude they’d all missed in the office. 
And then there was Hotch, who looked damn near like a dog with a tail between his legs, sporting his own jagged forehead wound that had been stitched up, his lips pulled into a guilty pout unlike everyone else's grateful beams. 
“Bugsy,” He started mournfully, and he swallowed heavily, “I’m-” 
“Don’t-” She shook her head, looking up at him from where she’d sat up in the bed to accommodate everyone’s hugging, “It wasn’t your fault, so don’t give me that. He caught us both of guard,” 
But he still didn’t look like he quite accepted that answer, settling to reach out and squeeze the hand that was laying across her stomach, his skin warm and rough as he held her like she was cracking glass under his touch. 
She realised she had been wrong that day with Lewis, when she’d been damn near shaking in her spot because of the man who looked so much like Hotch, and she saw the fatal flaw that gave it all away. 
His face was set in a frown more often than not, and it was for that reason a lot of the agents on the other floors lived in fear of SSA Hotchner’s thunderous tone and barking attitude, but Bugsy knew that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Because while he could be cold and domineering and bossy, his eyes told her all she needed to know. 
He was hurt. He was guilty. He was worried. He was mourning. He couldn’t stop seeing Peter Lewis slitting her throat in that flash of a blade. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her incase it was all a dream in itself, that they had never been found, he had never woke up, they had never saved her. 
His eyes were haunted by the past twenty years of his life, perhaps what happened even before then because she wasn’t so stupid to miss how he was more rough on child beaters and abusive fathers than he was their usual UnSubs, how he was so extra gentle with Jack, how he hated raising his voice. And inside the big scary exterior, Bugsy saw a boy who only wanted to save everyone because no one was ever there to save him. 
She squeezed his hand tightly in hers, pulling him towards her and he’d resisted hugging her to start with because he knew the frog would leap into his throat, but he could never deny her. And he didn’t, he simply leaned over, caressed the back of her head over his shoulder with one of his enormous palms and gave her a warm hug no monster or demon or whatever she had seen could ever be capable of. 
And Bugsy felt stupid for ever believing anything she’d seen. 
They stayed for another hour or so, Derek running out to grab Bugsy a subway because the food at the hospital hadn’t been the best, and she had devoured the steak and cheese footlong so fast Rossi’s brows had raised into his hairline. Spencer handed her a strawberry flavoured pudding pot, the lid already peeled open for her and a spoon.
And it was then a figure came rushing through the door, so fast they were surprised they hadn’t heard the heels on the linoleum and the whole room stopped for a breath, Bugsy dropped her pudding cup down her shirt, barely even making her first bite count. 
“Why did no one tell me those two were screwing for eight months?” Emily barked, gesturing between the two agents that cuddled up on the hospital bed, and almost as soon as the pure joy to see her older sister had flooded her body, it ebbed again, and Bugsy rolled her eyes.
“Eleven hour flight, Em, and a buttload of head trauma and that’s all you have to say to me?” She snipped, mopping up her pudding with the edge of her finger. 
“I got weekly updates about the consistency of Sergio’s bowel movements but this you missed out?” She threw her hands up, sighing in contempt and almost immediately the girls were bickering like they hadn’t spent a single day apart from one another, but then Spencer supposed that’s what happened when you were blood. 
And part of him wondered just who was going to tell Emily about the proposal, the same small part that had gone and bought the ring just yesterday while she’d been sleeping. 
He supposed he could live with it being his secret for a few weeks longer. 
--
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ophelieverse · 2 months
Note
if you are still taking requests I have one:Jace returning to Winterfell to reader,who is Cregan younger sister,to make the “song of ice and fire” become true after his mother told him😌please and thank you❤️
✩ ‧₊˚ and his will be the song of ice and fire
Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader
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-Summary:during his first stay at Winterfell,Jace and Y/n got much closer than they should.Now,after knowing the prophecy about the song of ice and fire from his mother,Jace is determined to make it true with the most beautiful lady he had ever seen.
-Warnings:spoilers of the last episode,reader is a Stark,Jace cheats of Baela(him and reader pull a Rhaegar and Lyanna)smutty time,asoiaf classic warnings.
•-thank you so much for requesting and let me know what you guys think,sending you lots of love
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
On that night in early Winter,as a milky moon shines white above the hills,the snow falls soft to whitewash the gentle slopes and the houses in the valley of Winterfell.The air smells of the last breath of smoke blown out of a fireplace,ice,earth and wood.
It's late,and many lights are already off,but the fire of torches along the streets still shine.The tavern lanterns are also still lit,as are some fireplaces or oil lamps in homes.The world is immersed in the peaceful quiet of that cold night,which already brings with it the algid squeeze of winter now closer and closer.
In the secluded area of the cold godswood,in the gardens of the castle of Winterfell,silence envelopes the floral landscape like a lover embrace and Jacaerys worries that the unrequited sound of his beating heart could be heard throughout the whole realm.
The blood-red leaves in the branches of the weirdwood tree danced calmly in the breezy wind,the snow had stopped falling from the black sky leaving only the white stars to shine.The torches lights were too close and too bright,Jace eyes were hurting and his cold hands were trying to warm up in the ones of his future bride.
The young prince is really trying to focus on the soft words,the promises of eternal love and loyalty,of the Septon that works for House Stark.But they sounded so foreign to him,almost as if they were another language.It’s impossible for him to focus on anything else outside the fact that he’s really getting married.
During his life,Jacaerys has never knew well how weddings ceremonies actually worked,but he was pretty sure that this one,his,wasn’t what people would call a normal one.He has a vague memory of his mother second wedding,just the day after the worst night of his life,but he still could remember a loving couple becoming one in the heart and soul.Promising each other,in the house culture,love and devotion,eternal loyalty.
He also remembered the wedding of his uncle and aunt,Aegon and Helaena,in the big and bright Temple in King’s Landing.How two children spouted oaths that they didn’t believed in,framed by perfect swaths of red,green and yellow.Smiling faces of their families,proud to be reunited for such a joyful moment.Then the celebration after in the castle,the people dancing and laughing,the melodious music and singing,the delights of the night.
Meanwhile this wedding,his,was quiet and rushed.Reserved and in the dark shade of the forest.There are no wonderful colors for decorations,no smiling families members or friends,aside from Cregan who was chosen as a witness to the union,and Jacaerys is in the middle of an icy tundra of suffocating silence.
Y/n is standing in front of him,adorned in pure pearly white just like the snow at her feet.She wasn’t just beautiful,she was otherworldly and vaguely threatening.Bright eyes,rosy cheeks and red lips,hair falling in the wind,the smile of and enchanting enchantress and the nature of a young she wolf.Blue winter roses crowned on her head,she looked like a religious icon,someone people sacrificed themselves for.
Jacaerys had spent weeks with her during his stay in the North and he couldn’t forget her for days.He had engraved her name in the palm of his hands,the way she would laugh with him,the way she carried herself and looked at him,forever in his heart.It was impossible to not grow to love her,the beautiful lady was made of magic and stardust.
The logics and sermons,the words and phrases of the Septon weren’t the one to convince him to swear his allegiance and love,the way she held his hands and softly smiled at him driven deeper into his soul.Y/n had wrapped herself into his ribs,crawling right inside his heart,to keep him warm.
He was born for her and she was born for him.The ice and the fire,it was written in the destiny.
His mother words still echoed in his mind as he looked at Y/n.The song of ice and fire would be the product of their love,a son or a daughter that would have ruled and kept the realm together and safe.Someone who would inherit the blood of the old Valyria,the blood of the dragons and gods,fire and warmth from their father.And the blood of the first men,the old gods,the ice of the true north from their mother.
Y/n was his truth,Jacaerys was the dream,she was the ice and he was the fire.
She made him sick with desire,she always did since the moment he was first introduced to her.With the desire to have her,to possess her,to have her around him forever.And now he had the perfect opportunity,the perfect excuse for his betrayal to Baela and his mother who had betrothed them months ago.
Now he could still believe that he was a good person with a purpose,not only because of his own selfish dream to be with Y/n and to marry her just because her figure hunted his memory and his carnal needs.Because he was growing to love her and wanted to grow old with her.It was for the realm,he was repeating to himself over and over to shut down the guilt,and it would be what he would tell his mother and cousin when he and his new wife would go to Dragonstone after their wedding.For the realm,for the world and the Targaryen dynasty.
Jacaerys is dressed in pure black,trembling in his furry cloak,he’s trying to calm down his breathing that relies heavily through his nose in forms of little white clouds.Idly he wonders if this was a funeral ceremony instead of a wedding,but this was the best they could manage in such short time.
The young prince had came to Winterfell,flying on dragon back,with the last lights of the sun and everything was orchestrated in secrecy as fast as they could.The child that would be born from him and Y/n needed to be fully legitimate,he didn’t wanted to risk a bastard just like he was,not when the child wouldn’t have become the protector of the realm,the one from Aegon the Conqueror dream.
Y/n was promised to Lord Jason Lannister eldest son and Jacaerys was promised to his cousin Baela.Everything of this was the highest of treason but the war was already there and they couldn’t go back now.His mind couldn’t help but circling around and back to the empty and oddly depressing atmosphere around them.
Before them a old and solemn man was going through some chants about the gods witnessing the union and behind them a grand total of just two whole guest.Cregan stood there,wrapped around his cloak,still and silent like a statue,Vermax was a few feet away looking at the scene like he could understand what was going on.
«In the sight of the Seven,I hereby see you these two souls,binding them as one for eternity.Look upon one another and say the words.»the Septon words were spoken with decision under the torches fire.
Jacaerys swallows thickly and feels like he’s been choked by the cloak that now is heavier on his shoulders.A beads of sweats drips down on his forehead and make his hair stuck on his neck even in the cold air.He wants nothing more than loose his collar and breathe deeply.All that clothing is far too stiff and uncomfortable and he feels like a stranger in his own body.He has to tell himself,as he close his eyes,that this would be over sooner that he’ll realize.
His mouth feels dry as he wet his lips before speaking his vows«Father.Smith.Warrior.Mother.Maiden. Crone.Stranger.I am hers,and she is mine,from this day,till the end of my days.»his voice was firm as he held her hand tightly.
Y/n smiled at him,she tried to be brave just like he was.Her hands were shaking in his,her nerves had eaten her alive the whole night,from the moment she had put on her mother old dress,to this very moment.Now she couldn’t go back.
She really started to love Jacaerys,how could she not?He was so gentle with his words,so kind with the way he touched and looked at her,perfect in everything that he did.And the fact that him,such a beautiful and loving man,had chosen her as his wife and future mother of his children,was dream coming true.As a child,she often dreamed of becoming a princess and to marry a prince,just like the ones in her fairytales.
But now she would’ve had to be the future Queen in a kingdom divided in two,with a war that was screaming outside their door.Jacaerys seemed to read her mind,squeezing her hands lovingly and nodding his head to reassure her,in a way to tell her that she wasn’t alone and that they would be together in the bad and the good.
«Father.Smith.Warrior.Mother.Maiden.Crone.Stranger.I am his and he is mine,from this day,till the end of my days.»Y/n pronounced every single word softly without taking her eyes off her husband.
Maybe this was really a funeral because,as she spoke,Y/n realized that there was no turning back now,they would not be just a prince and lady anymore.When did everything became so complicated?She started to get melancholic as she started to register how much her life had changed in few seconds,that the best part of her new life was also the hardest.
Just a few weeks ago she was running around the godswood with Jacaerys as she was teaching him about the old gods and the legends in the north and now all of her dreams and ambitions were threatened by her husband family.A family that she was part of now.
They were supposed to change the world by bringing their child into it,but the world was about to change them and it certainly wasn’t a change for the better.The greens usurping the throne,prince Aemond killing prince Lucerys proves that.
Y/n head was hurting as she thought about that.And she couldn’t forget about the part where both her and Jacaerys were promised to other people.They would be viewed as traitors among his family,his uncle Daemon wouldn’t take the news kindly and he certainly wouldn’t congratulate them.Y/n father also didn’t knew about any of this and she still feared his reaction.
Regardless all of that,of having the world against them.Both Jacaerys and Y/n didn’t cared about all the venomous things people will say about them or the things that they would have to go through,because if they were given a second chance they would do it all over again.They were loving each other too much to let the other go.
«With this kiss I pledge my love.»Jacaerys said to her,moving his hand to caress carefully her freezing cheek.
His lips felt soft and surprisingly warm against her cold ones.And just like that they were officially married in the sight of the Seven and law.
There is no time for celebrations,no music and tables filled with joy,decorations and all sort of foods.Instead they found themselves in Y/n chambers,the one she grew up in,the one that saw her going from a little girl that played with her dolls to a married woman.
The sheets were changed clean,some fresh flowers were put to adorn the headboard and right on the small table at the center of the table there was wine and some fruits.Cregan had to be the one organizing the whole thing as a small gift.
Y/n takes off her cloak and picks up a small red berry.Jacaerys does the same,moving around the room quietly,he raised his eyes and caught her attention with a sweet smile,so tender and yet so seductive,his lips shiny and wet with a clear juice that slowly dripped down his chin.
«Let me help my wife.»his voice sounded more confident now that it was just the two of them and no one else.
The word,wife,made Y/n feel hot against her chest and down her legs.Standing behind her,Jacaerys wrapped her in his arms.She shuddered when she felt his lips on her neck and along her shoulder:she closed her eyes and abandoned herself against his chest,sighing.
«Jace,husband.»whispered the beautiful lady,her eyes closed and her head slightly tilted back.
«From our love will come the child that this world needs.»Jacaerys had said between the kisses«And I will take care of both of you.»he continued.
«You promise?»Y/n voice was just breathless whisper.
«Nothing will happen to you,»his hand crawled down her stomach leaving shivers on her clothed skin,only to stop at her lower belly.
«But…your family…your mother and uncle-»she tried,biting her lip when he started to suck gently behind her ear.
«Our family will understand.»he corrected her«My mother knows the truth and she will grow to love you just like I do,especially after we will make her a grandmother.»he reassured her sweetly.
A shiver flashed down her back and inflamed her loins.The young prince lowered her shoulder strap to discover her breasts and squeezed it slowly between his fingers,flaring in turn as he felt the nipple turged against his palm.
Y/n staggered,her heart throbbing,her breath shortness and her legs were already trembling but Jacaerys was quick to support her:he lifted her in his arms and took her to the thalamus,on which he gently laid her,a splendid candid flower that seemed to fill that place of shadow with light and of which it was impossible for him to do without.
«My beautiful princess,my beautiful wife.»he murmured against her lips kneeling above her,her eyes shiny,her face turned on despite the pallor.
Y/n took his head in her hands,dipped her fingers between his long curly black hair like a crow's wing;she felt his whole body quiver himing,his heart beating fiercely,and like every time he made her understand that he wanted her,a glance was enough for her to make sure of his devotion:she beat her eyelashes darkening the beautiful irises for a moment,licking her lips;she barely curved them,aware that that gesture drove him crazy,she slowly pulled a flap of the dress to herself by uncovering one leg and flexed it,letting the toe of her foot slide down his thigh,continuing to look at him intensely.
Below the fabric of his pants,Jacaerys felt the delicacy and sensuality of her touch.The tremor of excitement that attacked him was violent, lightning-fast:he stared at her for a moment and couldn't resist any longer.He impatiently freed her from the gown leaving her naked and just as quickly he undressed himself,the look that ran longingly on every corner of her body,unable to give up admiring her as the first time and like every time.
«I’m yours.»Jacaerys promised her,whispering against her lips«Nothing will ever take me away from you.»he kissed her sweetly.
She whimpered and her heart started to beat faster«I’m yours.»she repeated.
He sank with his nose and mouth between the curves of her chest,grabbed her soft hips,stroked her thighs and bottom.Y/n flared all up as she felt his lips pop greedily on her breasts,squeezing volupously around one of his nipples as he brushed it with his tongue and teased the other with his thumb.Pervaded with chills,she widened her legs and clawed her fingers on the sheets;she lifted her pelvis sighing,longing for it anxiously.
The pleasure exploded when he began to draw with the arabesque index finger in the center of her body:she moaned,her breasts shaken by palpitations,her nipples turgid and sore from the pleasure of kisses and caresses,the groin and lower abdomen on fire.
Jacaerys stretched out on her,wrapped her every horizon in darkness:all her muscles were pulsing, the heartbeat that became gradually more frenetic from the burning need to love her,to get drunk on her.He looked at her again he could never have satiated himself to admire her beautiful face - and as soon as she returned his gaze,sweet and sensual every time more,the voluptuousness clouded his mind.
He sank between her thighs,tearing a lament from her that he suffocated with his lips;he clinged her tightly in his arms and kissed her with trepidation,proud and passionate as he pushed himself into her.Y/n clung to his shoulders pressing against his chest with her breasts and belly,her thighs squeezed to his hips:she felt like screaming again, but her tongue danced unbridled in her mouth,the movement of the hips energetic against her,providing her with each push a pang of intense,deep,absolute enjoyment.
The prince hands ran over her body with ardor,she felt his fingers demanding and sweet at the same time on the flesh,in the throes of estasy,she could do nothing but indulge in passion,following the fast pace with which he was moving inside,shadow inside the light,light wrapped in shadow.
«Jace,oh my gods!»Y/n had breathed closing her eyes and pulling the hair at the nape of his neck.
Going crazy with pleasure to hear his bride enjoy,Jacaerys pushed with greater vigor,eager to increase her enjoyment to a great demour,excited by her moans and delighted by the fervor with which she clenched herself by scratching his back with her nails.
«Y/n,oh my sweet little wife.»he groaned against her her,sweat covering his forehead.
He loved her,impetuously and madly,letting himself be stunned by her sighs,her heartbeats,her scent,similar to a flower that spreads his fragrance moved by the north wind caress.
Y/n quivered below him,the breast prey to his incessant caresses,the mouth half of his insatiable kisses;she felt his love to pierce her with tenacity,the pleasure to become more and more powerful and intoxicating and when she reached her peak she screamed,overwhelmed by the intensity of that embrace:this time Jacaerys did not hold back her scream and in turn could not hold back a moan as he made sure to release inside of her.
Appealing to the last forces Jacaerys had left,he bent down to kiss her and finally overturned at her side,panting.Exhausted,Y/n abandoned herself against the bed,her long hair spread in waves on her pillows.
Jace hurried to cover her with the sheet so that she wouldn't get cold and smiled at her,as soon as he felt her fingers touch his cheek.For a moment he stood to contemplate her eyes,her lips,her smile...she was even more beautiful,after love.
«Y/n,»he whispered as he came back to hold her tenderly to himself«I love you.»
She sought shelter in his arms,fulfilled and satiated with strong emotions but still eager for him.She placed her head on his chest and let his caress her hair«I love you too Jace.»she answered.
He smiled,placing a hand on her warm and sweaty skin of her lower belly where he hope a new life would start to grow soon«I promise you,our child will change the world.»he whispered.
They fell asleep together,ice and fire united.And the next day they would still be like this,in each other's arms,bound by passion,seduced by love.Creating a new life together that would have changed everything.
875 notes · View notes
kanmom51 · 17 days
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Are you sure?! Episode 6 - Sapporo
Lessons in how to start an episode right here.
Jikook being all sentimental.
This is not the first time they were in Sapporo. JM was talking about six or seven years ago, while this came to mind straight away:
Sapporo snow festival February 2016.
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One of those probably memorable moments.
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This is such a young Jikook, this being one of the first louder JK moments at the time.
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I'm sure they created some beautiful memories there. None as beautiful as the ones they created in Tokyo though.
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That was theirs, and that is also why we don't get to share any of their Tokyo time in 2024. That is theirs and theirs alone. And yes, I know that JK was working part of their time in Tokyo, but see, if they weren't intending on spending time together, JM could easily have joined him a few days later. But he didn't.
Them sitting there on that sofa and talking about the show, btw, was filmed most likely at the end of their trip, just before leaving for the airport and home.
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This is them leaving Sapporo.
28 November 2023. Basically 2 weeks before they enlisted. Them sitting down, at the very end of their last trip before enlistment. Understandably emotions would be heightened. And that trademarked move of JK's...
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Moving on to their arrival in Sapporo.
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Ok, so as I mentioned in my Jeju posts, I saw a clear shift in JK in Jeju. Lighter. A weight lifted off his shoulders. He was the same here, even more so. But the one I wanted to talk about was JM. Because I felt like here, in Sapporo, is where we see that same shift in him. In CT he was sick but content to be with JK. In Jeju he was happy but still felt a little distant (not from JK but not allowing himself to fully let go), less touchy feely with JK, like he was holding back (with all of the shifty cheeky behaviour that was going on he still felt like he was holding back). But here, he's just all in. He's handsy and touchy feely, and talkative. So so talkative. I won't lie, I was a little shocked. In the best way possible. This was a side of JM we didn't get to see for such a long time. Free. Open. Some of the conversations they had, and some of the things JM talked about, never in 100 years would I have thought he would bring them up on his own accord and share his thoughts with us about them.
This one for example:
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JM talking about this so openly. JK's reaction or lack thereof makes me feel like this wasn't the first time the subject came up with the two of them.
Not to say that I don't think that JK was taken aback by JM bringing it up there and then. His initial reaction was not stressed but maybe a little worried?
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But with saying that, imo this is not the first time he's heard this. And the maybe a little worry is not about the subject and more about the timing of the convo.
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Happiness.
That is what I see.
Even when having this conversation, which is not an easy one to have for the two of them.
Remember how the subject of being married with children came up during Festa 2020? Remember how the two stayed conspicuously silent on the matter?
And yet, JM brought it up there and then, openly, with a smile on his face, his hand not leaving JK's shoulder for one second during this whole convo.
All and all it was just so heartwarming to see them throughout the whole episode. Like I said, they just looked happy. To be there, together, with each other, making new memories to take with them for the next couple of years.
Back to them arriving in Hokkaido, can someone please explain to me why JK found the need to change that camera angle to show us JM's hand on him?
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JM well aware and letting go pretty much immediately.
Next we had them in the car/van/whatever it was. Doing this:
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Ok then, what to say here?
What indeed?
Truly, I'm seriously asking here, because I'm kind of at a loss for words, lol.
Just another one of those super sus super "nothing platonic going on here" moments.
Kind of like this one.
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But the eye squint, that smile, lip pucker and shoulder lift...
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This sequence:
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Really JK?
Can you be any more obvious?
🤣🤣
Just two dudes going on a dude vacay, right?
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And JK once again when hungry... looking for his food is he?
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Oh, and last but not least:
This is how 2 people enter a room when they are well aware of the camera in the room:
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And this is how 2 people are caught off guard by a candid camera placed in a room they weren't supposed to be entering together...
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Oopsy.
Well my friends, that is how you start off an episode. We have emotional, we have cheeky, we have sus as shit, we have happiness and fun, and we have an audience that is now glued to the screen screaming for more!!!
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ireneaesthetic · 5 months
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Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.
library scene • episode 1
their expressions softening and smiles growing bigger as soon as their eyes meet. oh the effect of each other’s presence!!!
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wille's staring contest and the lip bite while approaching give off so much confidence. he leans in for the kiss like it's all he's been waiting for - everyone is watching and yet he sees and cares about anyone anything but simon.
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simon dives into the kiss just as quickly. it starts out as shyyy but you can see the tension easing through his body language.
it’s a second first kiss for them in a way bc it's their first public one: the thrill, the excitement, the butterflies - it's all there. for this huge step to come from wille makes it even more special.
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it’s a super tender kiss, with simon’s hand ending up on wille’s chest. background noises fading away to enhance the sound of their lips is so on point: none of that truly matters bc in this moment it's - them.
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first they kiss and then greet with a proper hej *giggling*.
lip biting is serious business in this scene. simon's shows a lot of embarrassment tho - he comes out of their own bubble and suddenly becomes very aware of people's chatter.
shoutout to felice and maddie in the background not giving a damn about it ahsjsj.
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wille pulling simon by the hand in such a hurry is funny and so him. he literally says 'ok folks you've seen enough, i want him just for myself now'.
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ugh i love parallels in this show sooo much. they alone tell the whole story!
same spot but different point in their relationship: so distant in s2 - both physically/emotionally - and couldn't be seen or heard so they were hyper attentive; deeply connected on all levels in s3 instead, the focus is solely on each other, reaching for comfort by holding hands. the coloring tells the same plot too: cold and dull tones first but much warmer ones in s3.
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simon side eyeing the hallway but turning to wille is enough to reassure him and ease the discomfort.
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hands intertwined with the key chain in such a ‘fuck 'em, this is about us’ way is a genius move.
wille’s whole posture is extremely relaxed - one arm behind his back, the other hand holding simon’s, his legs crossed. it’s a breath of fresh air to finally see him acting this loose and unbothered around people. he's also the one who helps simon feeling much more comfortable here too.
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not much to point out, i just needed to gif simon’s bambi eyes and wilhelm being mesmerized by his face.
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hela terminen's line delivery is honestly *chef’s kiss*. they care to keep their voices low throughout the scene and then -
i have a thing for height difference so this shot is everything to me. it's peak head over heels boyfriends behavior!
wilhelm is stronger than me bc i would've kissed simon right on the spot if he tilted his head up like that.
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shhh they’re cuddling.
the forehead touch with closed eyes and content smiles. this is basically what i've always loved the most about them - the state of pure bliss they're in only when with each other.
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simon's eyes on him while wille is still keeping his eyes closed, slowly pulling away, to enjoy the moment a little longer.
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simon's attention directed towards wille and the linked hands. it must feel the best kind of weird to experience the freedom of doing couple-things publicly - people's scrutiny no longer being something they have to hide from.
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sophsbookstore · 5 months
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Chicken Shop Date
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Lando Norris x reader 。・:*˚:✧。
Masterlist can be found in navigation!
Word Count: 2,348
Y/N walks into the chicken shop where they're filming the newest episode of her and her best friends youtube show Chicken Shop Date. Y/N and her best friend Amelia have been running the channel for a few years now, both girls switching off taking turns dating different celebrities.
Today Lando Norris was to be on the channel, and Y/N was ecstatic. Y/N has always been a big fan of formula one, with McLaren being one of, if not her favorite team. The original plan was for Amelia to be doing the date, the girls always switching off interviewing every other date, but Amelia knowing how much Y/N liked Lando, trades spots with the girl trying to set her friend up.
“Ok Y/N, Lando should be coming round the corner in a few.” One of the PA’s says, kneeling next to Y/N who was already sitting at the table, wiping her nervously sweaty hands against her legs.
“Y/N are you excited?” Amelia asks her best friend, Y/N side eyeing her friend before turning her attention back to the empty chair ahead of her.
“You suck, you know how much I like him, it was your turn to go on a date anyway!” Y/N whisper shouts. Amelia laughs, giving her bestie a quick hug before going to her spot behind the camera. The rest of the crew gets ready as Lando and his team enter the set.
Y/N watches anxiously as Lando shakes the crew member's hads, introducing himself to everyone before coming over and sitting across from her. “Hi, im Lando” the curly haired man says, holding his hand out across the table for Y/N to shake.
She does so, blush creeping onto her face. “Im Y/N, but i'm sure you already knew that” the girl stutters out. “That over there is my co-host Amelia, which I'm sure you already knew as well..” Y/N says kicking herself under the table in embarrassment. Lando looks at the girl, the smile never leaving his face.
“Ok you guys, we are starting in 3..2..” the director holds up one on his fingers, putting it down as everyone gets quet waiting for Y/N to start talking.
“Do you like chicken nuggets and chips?” what a way to start off the “date”, Y/N thinks to herself.
“I love chicken.” Lando says to the girl, smiling slightly as his head nods with satisfaction.
“That's good, I do as well.” Y/N reminds herself that this isn't a real date, she has to keep up the unbothered, bored character throughout the whole video. This is going to be harder than she thought. “Did you know that chicken makes you more beautiful” Y/N can feel her ears getting hotter.
“Does it really?” Lando asks, feeding into Y/N bit. Y/N agrees with the man, nodding her head.
Just then one of the PA’s comes out and hands Y/N a Capri-Sun, she places one in front of herself and Lando. Lando stares at the bagged drink in confusion, turning his head to the girl in front of him, back at the drink, then to her again. “How did you know I like Capri-Sun?”
“because…I’ve..Been, researching you..” the girl stutters out. Way to not sound like a creepy stalker, Y/N thinks to herself.
“I didn't even know I was doing this until yesterday.” Lando says, trying to steer the conversation away, stabbing his straw into the hole at the top of the bag. “I just looked at my calendar yesterday”
“Really? I've known about this for a while now, I've been manifesting it actually.” Y/N taking a bite of a fry, putting on a confident act for the camera.
“So manifesting actually works?” Lando asks, fixing the hod of his sweatshirt.
“It's been in my diary for about 5 years, you just didn't know about it until now.” Y/N shrugs, Lando leaning forward with laughter.
Y/N quickly looks over at Amelia, the girl silently laughing at her friend's awkwardness. Looking back at the monitor Amelia notices her friend secretly eyeing her down, turning to face Y/N she gives her a thumbs up, silently telling her that shes doing a good job and has nothing to worry about.
“Are you into, like, racing and motorsport?” Lando asks, trying to capture the girl's attention.
“Oh yes!” this perks Y/N up, being asked about something that she thoroughly enjoys. “I love Formula 1, my dad is a really big McLaren fan, so growing up we all had to be too.” Y/N finishes with a laugh.
“Are you still a McLaren fan?” Lando leans forward in his chair.
Wanting to play hard to get, Y/N leans slightly back in her chair. “I would say so, yes.”
“Who's your favorite McLaren driver.” he asks with a smirk.
“Oscar Piastri.” Y/N says, her face void of any emotion. Lando sighs, frowning slightly as he takes a bite of his food in defeat.
The pair could go on and on about racing, having both grown up watching the sport, as well as having the same favorite team, the two continue talking. “You know, I've never been to a race before.” 
This perks Landos interest. “I should take you sometime. Let me know which race you want to go to and I'll call a few people.” 
Y/N almost chokes on her drink. Did Lando Norris just invite her to her first ever race? Lando Norris. Her celebrity crush, and the person she has been manifesting to have on this show since it gained its popularity.
“I would really like that actually.” Y/N blushes, not being able to think of a cheeky comeback for his offer.
“You know what, bring your family too, you said they were McLaren fans aren't they?” Lando smiles at the girl, Y/N only being able to nod in agreement and thankfulness.
Lando takes a moment to eat some more of his food, Y/N looks over at Amelia, her best friend silently screaming and clapping for the girl. Y/N is stunned, her eyes wide, her mouth making an “o” like shape. Y/N shakes off the excitement, knowing that she still has to finish the “date” before she can get too excited.
“I hear it gets quite hot in there.” Y/N says catching Landos attention.
“Oh yeah, it gets very hot. Yeah, sweaty-”
“It would be even hotter if I was in there.” Y/N says bluntly. Lando opens his mouth to say a comeback, but when his eyes meet Y/N’s he shuts up, instead the blood rushes to his ears and he bites his lip. “Agreed?” Y/N instigates.
All Lando could do was nod and smile, his face getting redder and redder. Y/N takes her moment, taking a sip of her soda for confidence the girl leans forward, giving Lando her full eye contact as the interview carries on.
“Are you a romantic person?” the girl inquires. 
Lando takes a bite of his fry, looking at Y/N as a smile creeps onto his face, he looks down at his meal. “When I need to be.” he looks back up at the girl, still smiling.
“Good to know.” Y/N keeps eye contact with Lando, taking a bite of her fry, the boy winking at her subtly, making her nearly melt off her chair.
The two continue to eat in silence, one of the PA’s signaling to Y/N that they're about halfway through with the interview. This saddens Y/N, she doesnt want it to end. What if this is the first and last time she’ll ever get to see Lando. No, he offered to take her and her family to a race. What if it was just a joke? No, that would be too mean to be a joke.
“What's your ultimate goal?” Lando pulls the girl from her thoughts. “Apart from like this” Lando says motioning to the cameras and food in front of them.
“To fall in love I guess.” Y/N shrugs.
“That's cute.” Lando smiles at the girl. If she wasn't sitting down she would have passed out in the moment. 
Y/N analizes is face, taking in how cute he is before mustering up the confidence to continue the interview. “What's your type?” the girl asks.
“I'm open.” he shrugged nonchalantly.
“What do you specifically look for in a girl then?” Y/N questions the boy in front of her, desperately wanting to know.
“Just someone who's funny, has Y/E/C, beautiful, has Y/H/C, you know?” Lando continues to wait, trying his absolute best to act nonchalant. “How about you?”
“Oh you know, racer, has brown curly hair, brown eyes, a brown hoodie on right now. Nothing much to it really.” Y/N states, matching the energy as Lando looks down at his brown sweatshirt, looking back at the girl and smiling.
“Good to know.”
“Are you a big spoon or a little spoon?” Y/N doesn't waste any time before jumping into the next question.
“I'm big.” Lando responds. 
“That's perfect, I've been looking for a big spoon.” Y/N casually says.
“I've never been a little spoon before.” Lando laughs at the shock on Y/N’s face, the beautiful girl in front of him making him clarify that he's never been a little spoon before. “We could try,” Lando quickly says to Y/N, both taking a moment to imagine such a thing before turning their attention back to one another.
“Do you snore?” Y/N questions the driver in front of her.
“Yes.” he replies bluntly, leaning his body slightly more forward.
“No, really? That's a deal breaker for me.” Y/N puts on a fake sad face. She looks at the driver in front her, his face dropping ever so slightly, but enough for it to be noticeable. “It's ok, we can work around it” Lando nodded in agreement with the girl, his face perking up a bit more.
“How far away do you live?” Y/N asks, not caring about how creepy the question can sound. 
Lando laughs, looking down at his food before looking back up at Y/N “I love in Monaco.”
“Shoot.” Y/N sighs, finally breaking eye contact with the beautiful British man. “I don't know if I can do long distance.” 
Landos face falls, his smile faltering to a frown. “Well that's no good is it?” the two fall back slightly in their seats. 
“Am I going to have to move out to Monaco? Or will you stay in England full time?” Y/N asks, forgetting this is just a playful interview, actually thinking about her hypothetical future with Lando.
“Hmmm.” the driver ponders. “Whatever you want I'm good with.” he smiles.
Y/N laughs, playing along she obviously looks past the camera toward her friend Amelia. “I think we might have to move chicken shop to Monaco.” Both girls laugh, Lando blushing at the idea of Y/N moving her whole life to stay with him in a different country. 
The PA looks at the pair, walking around the camera and sneakily handing Y/N a custom made chicken shop trophy. Y/N thanks the PA before holding the trophy up and looking back at Lando. “You may not come first in anything yet, but you are the first F1 driver to go on a date with me.” Y/N holds out the trophy for Lando to take, he “awws” in response.
Lando holds the trophy in his hands, looking down then looking back up at Y/N “hopefully i'm the last F1 driver you have on. I would say our date was pretty successful.” he smiles.
Y/N doesn't hide her blush this time, looking down and laughing slightly before refocusing back at lando. “Maybe, maybe not. We’re still waiting to hear back from Oscar.” 
The director yells cut. The rest of the crew and various team members walk about the shop finishing their own tasks leaving Lando and Y/N to their own. The pair get up from their chairs at the same time, now standing in front of one another.
“Thank you for this again.” Lando says, motioning to the trophy in his hands. “I really had fun today.”
“Me too, thanks for coming, even if you didn't know until yesterday.” the two laugh, a comfortable silence falling between them.
“Hey umm, maybe we could do this again, no cameras or anything. I'm in England for another week or so if you're free.” Y/N is taken aback, did Lando Norris just ask her on a real date.
“I- umm, yeah I would really like that. I'll give you my number so we can plan it.” 
“Perfect!” Lando smiles, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it, then handing it to Y/N. Y/N quickly types in her phone number, setting her contact name, and taking a picture of herself for the contact photo before handing the phone back to Lando.
“Well then i'll see you soon Lando” Y/N says, looking up at Lando, taking a small step closer to him.
“I'll see you soon Y/N” he holds his arms out, giving the girl a brief yet firm hug, before getting called away by one of his team members.
Y/N stands in shock. Recapping everything that had just happened since the director started filming. Amelia runs up to her friend, nearly tackling the girl with excitement. “What happened, what did he say?” Amelia interrogates Y/N, having witnessed their interaction from afar.
“I just got a real date with Lando Norris.” Y/N says, pulling out her phone to see a text from Lando with an address and time. It's official, her manifestation had worked and she was now going on a real date with the driver she's had a crush on since he signed with her favorite team. Lando Norris.
870 notes · View notes
kakushino · 1 year
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Knot Enough
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Werewolf! Tomioka Giyuu x AFAB! Reader
Giyuu is hit by an unanticipated rut.
Tags: smut, in heat/rut, pheromones acting as aphrodisiac, knotting [& creampie (obviously)], possessiveness Word count: 2,4k
Masterlist
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It was the start of an extended weekend - holiday on Thursday and you took Friday off - and you were happy to finally catch up on your anime binging. All was peaceful, you were in just your panties and an oversized shirt for comfort; you got through two episodes so far, you were stocked up on snacks and drinks, content to spend three days alone before your date with your new boyfriend, Giyuu.
You had met Giyuu through a friend of a friend and you hit it off very quickly. You just sort of… clicked together, like missing puzzle pieces, or soulmates or whatever. It was three months in, and you couldn’t be happier. You hadn’t yet passed the kissing stage, but Giyuu seemed a little shy, which was perfectly fine. It wasn’t as if either of you were uncontrollable horny teens.
You were in the middle of watching a mage and his apprentice acquire a grim familiar during a tension filled-scene when your doorbell rang. 
“Fuck-!” you were so into it, the noise nearly made you jump out of your skin. Pausing the episode and putting your snacks on the coffee table, you padded over to the front door. The peeking hole showed you your boyfriend with a troubled expression. Worried, you quickly opened it. “Giyuu?”
The sound of your voice snapped him from a trance and his fever-bright eyes met yours. A smile spread on his face and slight blush decorated his cheeks when he walked forward without asking to come in. Unusual.
“Is everything okay?” The door closed.
Your boyfriend didn’t respond, kicking off his shoes - another odd thing, he was a very neat person - and tugging you into a tight hug, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. A shudder seemed to go through him the moment he took you in.
He spoke at last. “I know we’ve only just started dating,” he started in a low rasp. The sound of his voice so close to your ear sent goosebumps crawling across your whole body. “But my rut just arrived and I-” he cut himself off with a sharp exhale, his nose touching the side of your neck when he took a deep breath again.
You were beyond confused. “...rut? What do you mean?”
Giyuu’s arms wound even tighter around your form. It was a bad time to start explaining but he needed to, he needed you to understand and to act - to help him. “I’m not human.” 
You could only gasp. “What are you-?”
“I’m a wolf at times… and this wolf affects me even in human form. I need to-” he shuddered again, his lips gliding down your neck to where your shoulder met it. He licked the spot, trying to stem his hunger for you. “Please let me- let me fuck you,” he said in a breathy voice.
His desperation sent a flare of desire throughout your entire body. Your mind reeled with his admission. This whole scenario reminded you of the monster porn you read once or twice, but what did it mean for you? 
“Please,” he begged hoarsely, one of his hands pushing on the small of your back to press your belly against the bulge in his pants. 
Giyuu had never begged you before, he'd never expressed himself so boldly before. Just because of that, you were leaning towards giving in. 
It didn't help that he smelled so good.
"Okay." 
No sooner had that word left your lips, his own slotted against yours in a deep and desperate kiss that stole your breath away.
He backed you up against the wall, his hands holding your hips to grind against you and yours in his hair, the leather cord he used to tie it coming loose quickly as you lightly tugged on it. He released a sinful moan into the kiss, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.
Giyuu guided you both to the bedroom - you later wondered how he knew which room it was - tugging at your oversized shirt, clearly wanting it off, an impossible feat without pulling back from the kiss.
Just when you thought he would give in and tear it in off, he actually did let you discard it peacefully.
Your panties did not receive the same tender care.
With a growl of "I'll buy you some later," he laid you onto the bed tucking himself between your legs. One of his arms supported his weight by your head, the fingers of the other impatiently delving into your pussy to prepare you as soon as possible. One, two, three digits stretched you out in a quick manner while all you could do was sigh and moan softly, your eyes locked onto each other as you quivered under his form, mind hazy.
Giyuu had wanted to take his time on your first night… before his rut hit him. Now, he just wanted to eat you alive.
“I want you,” Giyuu whispered breathlessly. “I need you.”
You nodded shakily, still trying to find your bearings from the stretch of your pussy on his fingers. He pulled them away, making you gasp at the emptiness, your muscles clenching around nothing as you heard his belt buckle open. 
The sound of it had never been so enticing before.
You blinked slowly and looked at him.
You weren’t a virgin, but you had never seen a cock like his - thick and long and so, so pretty, with a strange swelling around the middle. But a brief glance was all you could get before he was onto you, kissing you deeply, sloppily. He was in a daze, his eyes half-lidded.
“Lovie, gods, I need you-” 
Giyuu lined himself up against your entrance and slid in slowly, the stretch of his tip entering you feeling so much more than his three fingers, even if it didn’t seem like it. “F-fuck, slow- slow downngh-” 
He immediately stopped and pulled away from your face, eyes glistening with unshed tears, guilt and anguish clear in his expression. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking so wounded as if he were the one being speared open with a cock. 
You breathed through the burn, your hands cupping his cheeks gently. “Just go slower okay? I’m not- it’s just been a while,” you reassured him. 
“I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” he leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours. “Please forgive me, lovie.”
Your thumbs caressed his face softly as you murmured, “You’re fine, Giyuu. You just need to go slow, okay? Can you do that for me?”
He closed his eyes, and hummed in agreement, sliding more of himself in slowly, as you’d told him to. He kissed you in an unhurried passion, enjoying you - your taste, your heat, your body against his. 
The burn wasn’t as bad this time, though as you threaded your fingers in his hair, you had to grip it tight when the swelled middle started to slide in. You broke away from him to breathe, clenching your eyes shut as Giyuu murmured apology after apology, peppering many soothing kisses all over your face and then-
Giyuu slipped in in his entirety, eliciting a deep groan from his throat. He’d swear later it was an accident, that he’d mean to just force his knot in faster so you wouldn't hurt so much, but he miscalculated how slippery you were. And Gods, your cunt was so snug around his cock, he could hardly breathe.
You could hardly breathe. So full. So hot. A fever spreading from your belly out to your fingertips - but not unpleasant. It felt good. The pain and burn faded instantly when you buried your face in Giyuu’s neck, breathing in the musky smell of his sweat. It made your mouth water and you couldn’t resist placing an open mouthed kiss on his pulse point, your tongue slipping out to taste him. 
His breath hitched, his hips bucked, and you threw your head back with a low moan when he hit the sweet spot inside of you with his cock.
“Fuck- sorry, lovie,” he apologized in a strained voice, trying to stay still. “Are you o-okay?” 
You only nodded shakily. “Please, mo-move.” You forced your hands to stop gripping his hair so much, keeping only one hand there while another cupped his cheek. 
Your eyes locked with his as he started to rock into you gently.
Giyuu’s face was flushed, sweat beading at his temples, lips parted to pant, eyes glazed over with an unnatural brightness. You probably looked no better, a mess underneath your lover. 
He kept panting and moaning softly, and this was the most expressive you'd ever seen or heard your boyfriend be. The vulnerability he showed you made you feel as if you would crack open - your heart so full it could not be contained-
“I love you.”
The words slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself. His eyes seemed to glow with happiness, and he sped up his thrusts. Your hands fell from him to grip onto his forearms.
“I love you, I love you-Iloveyou-” Each time he bottomed out, you repeated your feelings, and each time, he went faster until nothing other than moans and whines could escape you. 
Why did this feel more intense than anything you’d ever felt before? Why did it feel like you’d spiral any second? Why did it feel like you couldn’t get enough, that you wanted more of him, have him deeper, make him carve you out from the inside until no one else could fit but him?
It was a heady mix of greed and lust and gluttony for Giyuu, the not-human, the wolf.
“Pl-ease-! Ah!”
You could hardly believe the sounds leaving your throat, high pitched whines and animalistic keening, which only seemed to spur Giyuu on to be rougher with you. He kept eye contact with you still, his hands gripping the fabric of your pillow above your shoulders tightly, his wrists leaning against you to keep you from sliding away from his thrusts.
“Ghi-yuu-ngh-” 
His lips slipped open even more, in awe of how beautifully he disintegrated your composure; dew beaded at your lash line, your eyebrows furrowed, eyes half-lidded as you babbled his name, begged and told him how you loved him. 
And oh how he loved you too. 
He was going to keep you as his forever. Your cunt was too good for him, you were too good for him. Your scent called to him. He needed you.
More, more, more.
Not enough.
Giyuu fucked you like the beast he was, chasing his pleasure and getting drunk off of yours. This was the first heat he’d been even tempted to sink into the core of his partner and Gods, it felt so good. He’d never be able to not fuck you during his heat.
Thankfully, his heats happened only once or twice a year…
He pulled back slightly, slowing the fucking temporarily so he could put both of your legs over his shoulders before he picked up his earlier pace again. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his sharp nails - claws - digging into your skin. You could no longer keep your eyes locked into his, turning your head away and clenching your eyes shut, tears of pleasure falling, when he slightly changed the angle and rubbed along your sweet spot repeatedly. You let out a hoarse whimper.
“Lo-lovie, if you get- fuck- if you get any tighter - hah - I won’t be able to pull out-” he choked out, yet he did not let up. Deep down, he knew he would not be able to hold himself back. He needed to give you all he had, he needed to fill you with his love.
You clawed at the mattress, trying to find purchase, not knowing if you wanted to escape from the ecstasy or if you wanted more. Something threatened to snap in your gut, Giyuu didn’t seem to care as he pounded into you. “Plea-se-!” 
Your voice was music to his ears; if he could, he would hone his wolf ears onto you for eternity. “What is it, l-lovie?” 
“I- I c-can’t- plea-se- please!” you begged, not knowing what for - but you wanted it, you wanted something.
Your wolf knew though. “I’ve got y-you… you can l-let go, lovie-” One of his hands left your hips to push on your belly, making you infinitely tighter. A mistake, or perfection?
The bubble burst in the next slam of his hips against your ass. You keened, arching your back, more tears escaping your eyes. You were afloat, mind unable to handle any other stimuli than what erupted from your core; your ears rang, stars burst behind your eyelids, your mouth hung open. 
A strange vibration reverberated through your body, then sharp heat inside of you, and a slight burn from being stretched. Your brain registered that that couldn’t be right, but you could not focus on anything at all.
Giyuu was in heaven, his knot locked inside of you, his seed filling you up, and you lost in pleasure. There was no better place to be than right where he was - inside you, around you, with you. You, you, you, only you. Your scent enveloped him in a heady atmosphere and his teeth ached with need to sink into your neck, your shoulder. He wanted to truly make you his own.
But he wouldn’t. He couldn't, not without your explicit consent.
He already felt like he'd preyed on you as is, not pulling out, using you like this… he needed to make it up to you somehow. 
He needed to show you he could be your forever partner, he needed to show you he could be your future.
He lowered your legs from his shoulders to cradle his waist instead, half-laying on you, soaking up your presence in the post-orgasmic bliss. It distantly occurred to him that his rut had not yet passed, the feverish heat still burning in his gut. He didn't even know how long he'd need to wait for his knot to deflate… before he needed to fuck you again, and again, and again.
"Are you okay?" Giyuu asked at last when the both of you caught your breaths.
You hummed in affirmation, sore all over, throat hoarse as if you'd been at a concert all night. Your arms loosely embraced him as you cooled down a little. "So… not human, huh?"
He flinched. "I have some explaining to do."
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dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear
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venusbyline · 3 months
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Will Graham NSFW Alphabet
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⚠️: Smut, Will Graham x Female Reader, switch!Will, CNC, mommy kink, daddy kink, mention of threesome/voyeurism, slight dark!Will, mention of mental health issues, mention of blood.
A/N: sorry guys, my depressive episodes and the college left me with a writer's block so fucked up. but i'll trying my best, i promise!
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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Will cares a lot about the aftercare moment, even though most of the time it's you who has cheking that everything it's fine with him. So the best aftercare type for both of you it's just lying in bed, cuddled and covered by the bedsheet, feeling the heat and sweat of each other's bodies, while he caresses your hair or your face. Sometimes you talk a little and sometimes you stay just like that, both of you comfortable with the silence until fall asleep.
B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Will's a little insecure about himself. He believes you could and should find someone better than him, because you're the most perfect woman in the whole world, and from his point of view, you deserve someone perfect too. However, he really likes his pretty puppy eyes. He knows how making good use of them to seduce you, whether begging for your touch or scolding your brat behavior during sex with a mockery or severe look. Will also likes his own hands, even though they've some calluses, he knows how making you feel so fucking good when he touches your pussy.
Will loves your boobs, no matter their size. Whether they're small, very small, mid, big or very big. He's always touching them and begging you to let him suck them like a baby, even when you're not having sex. If he's dominating, he'll roughly squeeze your boobs, making you whimper and biting your nipples. In a non-sexual context, Will loves your smile, it's literally the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. You're the prettier and most perfect person he has ever seen.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…)
Will cums A LOT. You two don't have much free time together to fucking regularly and he tries his best not to masturbate often, so when he cums, it's really a LOT.
He likes cumming inside your mouth or on your face, or even inside you. He loves seeing his sperm dripping out of your pretty little hole. Such a cute creampie.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Will always has SO MANY dreams about a threesome with you and Hannibal. He also imagines what it would feel like seeing Hannibal fucking you while he's handcuffed and sitting in a chair, watching everything and trying not to cum in his own pants. He knows Hannibal would be so much rough and dominant with you than him. He knows Hannibal would force you telling Wlli that he's fucking you better than he'll ever be able to. He knows Hannibal will demand it so you can cum on his cock. In the dreams, Will doesn't care seeing you moaning that degradation, he doesn't care if ywour sentence it's true or not, he's even more horny seeing you squirting on Hannibal's cock, mouth or hands, seeing you crying because the overstimulation after that. Just like his dreams, Will always cums in his own pants, he also wakes up sweaty and with his pajamas dirty with sperm, running to the bathroom to clean himself up before you can wake up worried and ask if he's okay.
These dreams and thoughts happen very frequently as fuck. He doesn't know if he really hates it or not.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Will isn't very experienced. He's beautiful and kinda husband material for anyone, but his troubled mind, the fact that he doesn't really like random physical touch and his lack of free time haven't cooperated much with him. So let's say that before you, he hadn't sex with many people. He probably lost his virginity during his final years of college and had too few casual nights throughout his adult life.
He definitely knows what he's doing, though. Even though he isn't a womanizer, Will's a fast learner, as well as knowing that each person likes things differently. He's an empath, so he'll understand and adapt himself to how you enjoy sex, your kinks...
F = Favorite Position (Pretty self-explanatory...)
If he's feeling more submissive, definitely Cowgirl. He likes seeing you in control of the situation, he likes to hold your hips and suck your boobs while you ride his cock. It's great for you to be able to grab his soft hair and force him begging you to cum.
If he's more dominant, Will likes fucking you missionary. He likes looking at you, seeing your bambi eyes glaze over with pleasure as you cum and cream his cock. He's a very visual guy, sees your delighted face just turns him on even more. In this position, he can also bite your neck and kiss you intensely while he's fucking you dumb.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous...)
Depends on the time. If Will's feeling almost 100% mentally well, you two can have a few laughs during the act. But usually, he's so caught up by his own mind and issues that sex with you also becomes a way to distract himself and get rid of the darkness trapped in his thoughts.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes...)
He has a considerable amount of hair there, curly and dark hair. He doesn't care much about things like that, but if you want him to shave it all or at least a little bit. Will doesn't want it being unpleasant for you when you're giving him a head, so you can tell him to shave it if you wanna.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Will's a very romantic guy, even when he's dominating you. He likes looking into your eyes while fucking you and worships you mentally, feeling lucky for having you by his side.
But sometimes Will just needs fucking you hard and sends his nightmares and weird hallucinations away. Or sometimes he's so psychologically fucked up because of all the criminal cases and ends up letting himself go, treating you just like a random pussy to fuck. Despite everything, these situations happens rarely and he always cries afterwards, apologizing for being too rough and treating you with so much disregard.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Like I said, Will doesn't have a lot of free time to think about sex and when he does, he prefers using it to fuck you. But if you're in different places or some unforeseen events happens and he simply can't take it, Will jacks off using his own mind as an incentive. He's a very visual man, but he doesn't like porn videos and also doesn't likes sharing nudes, he's ashamed and finds that virtually dangerous. He can cum just by remembering the taste of your pussy on his lips or how your boobs bounce when you ride him. Will also has a very creative mind and can imagine many different sexual scenarios with you.
During his time as a prisoner, he definitely masturbated A LOT thinking about you, not giving a fuck about how loud his moans were. His cock would turn red and almost raw from rubbing himself too fast and hard, growling your name and annoying the other prisoners and the staffs at the BSHCI, especially Frederick Chilton.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Will definitely has breeding kink. This man's dream it's being a father and it's practically impossible to convince him to have sex with a condom. Even if you're not ready to have a child yet and take the contraceptive pills, he wants cumming inside you just at the idea of picturing getting you pregnant, carrying his little baby in your belly. While he's on top, fucking you at an absurdly fast speed, he gives you some dirty talk like "You want me to fuck a baby inside you? You want daddy getting you pregnant? Breeding you?". Then later he wants to see the results of that, pulling out of you and seeing your little pussy full with his cum. You can be sure that he'll eating you out after that, relishing the mixed taste of your juices with his own sperm.
We can already tell he also has a bit of Daddy kink, right? I need admit, that's a little weird, considering his dreams about having children, but he loves treating you like his little baby. When he's dominating, you can call him Daddy and watch this man become ecstatic.
Mommy kink too, maybe because he didn't have a mother figure present in his life, also because he dreams about having a family with you (kinky and weird but cute AGAIN). Add that to a breastfeeding kink. He loves sucking your boobs even at random and non-sexual moments, while he lies on your lap and lets you caress his hair. Will definitely calls you Mommy sometimes.
Praises turns him on, much more than degradation. He wants to be a good boy for you, just like he wants you to be a good little baby for him. But like any Mommy/Daddy kink, there are rewards as well as punishments. If you're good girl for him, he'll fuck you dumb for hours and give you as many orgasms as you can handle. If you're being a brat, he'll bend you over his knees and spank your ass with his belt or some wooden paddle, demanding you to count each beat and start counting again if you make a mistake or forget a number. If he's being a good boy, you'll let him spend an entire free day just sucking your boobs, without any other concerns on his mind, just the feeling of your nipples on his tongue it's enough to make him cumming on his own pants.
Choking. Spanking. Biting...
Maybe CNC too, especially post-prison!Will. He's so mentally messed up that he feels better exposing his creepy desires during sex. After always setting your limits and a safeword, he likes chasing you through the woods at night, he definitely uses a knife to tear your clothes and draw some blood from you, licking every drop.
Pet play, but not often. You're his only kitty.
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
At home, in your bedroom, when he's sure the dogs are locked out.
But for CNC roleplay, it's definitely in the woods.
Sometimes at his classroom, at night, after class ends and all the students have already left.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
As weird as it sounds, stress it's something that turns Will on the most. His mind it's so turbulent and he urgently needs feeling you distracting himself from all this shit.
He also gets very horny when you wear clothes with a low cut neckline or a transparent fabric (like I said, it doesn't matter how small or big your boobs are, he literally worships them as they are).
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Will wouldn't have a threesome with another woman. He doesn't even consider the possibility of touching a another girl. Actually, he doesn't want threesomes with men either, just maybe with Hannibal...
He also doesn't like the idea of being blindfolded, because that would make him lose the little sense of reality he has left.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Will loves feeling your velvety mouth around his cock, giving him cat-like licks first. However, Will's a true giver. He loves eating your pussy out. His mouth and tongue skills make you see stars. If you want him being fast and rough, he'll be. If you want him being slow, he'll be. If you want him just sucking your clit repeatedly, he'll do it. If you want him using his tongue and his long calloused fingers at the same time, he'll do it.
What's obvious it's: Will loves the taste of your pussy and he's addicted to it. He can definitely make you get so many squirts even during just one night.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Most of the time, Will's slow and sensual, even when he's being more rough and dominating you. He's always enjoying the moment and the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock.
But sometimes he'll be so fast, especially when he's so mentally fucked up that he needs IMMEDIATELY just letrinhas his frustrations out.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Will isn't the biggest quickies fan, he prefers enjoying the moment. But it often happen when he has nightmares, so you can calm him down and get him back to sleep readily afterwards.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Also, Will isn't the biggest fan of taking risks when it comes to exhibitionism or something like that, but he's a such experimentalist guy, loving testing different kinks with you.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Will Graham doesn't have very free time to fucks you that often, so unfortunately he won't take long to cum. But lucky for you, he'll be a good boy and make it up to you by fucking his fingers inside you or letting you sit on his face and rub your pretty pussy against his lips and his nose until you cum. Even though he's already exhausted.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
At first, Will was a little wary by the idea of using toys on both of you, but that quickly changed. He loves paddles, handcuffs, whips, vibrators, dildos, cock rings... The only thing he really doesn't wanna try it's wear blindfolds. But if you want him to blindfold you, that could be something interesting to explore.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Will's at his most teasing mood when he's finger fucking you, wishing you begging for him to fuck you or at least eat you out too. He's not very proud of that, but sometimes he also teases you by being a brat when you're dominating him.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Will's very loud, he moans too loudly and sometimes it sounds more like a desperate whimper than just a moan. He's almost like a crybaby man when you're giving him a head.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
One day, you met Will after he finished his class. He was very stressed, both because his students and also because the new case Jack had gotten him into. You tried to calm him down, saying comfort words, but for a moment Will's eyes darkened and he roughly pushed you over his own desk, covering your mouth as he lifted your dress and began fucking you like an animal, hands squeezing your neck with a intense strength. He knew you could use your safeword if you wanted. You knew that too. But his angry gaze as he thrust against your tight walls felt so good. He just kept choking you with one hand and covering your mouth with the other. When he was done, he came all over your face, barely giving you time to process what happened. A few seconds after coming off the high, he cried into your shoulder, realizing that even though you enjoyed all that rudeness, he seemed acting almost like a monster. Almost as if criminals were getting into his mind more and more.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
We already know that Will has curly, dark hair down therer. So let's talk about size. I don't think it's that big, but something around 6 or 6.5 inches, a mid and common size. However, he's quite thick, making you whimper whenever he put it inside you, your tight pussy trying to crush him as you both moan with each thrust. His cock it's so pretty, a little darker tone, slightly brownish, but with a reddish tip.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Will's always too busy or distraught to think about sex, but don't worry, whenever his sex drive finally arrives, he makes up for all the "lost" time.
Z = ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Oh guys... This guy feels so good after the fuck, freeing his mind from all insomnia issues and nightmares. Don't blame him for sleeping so quickly before you.
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Text
into you
Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader
Wordcount: 2.247
Rating: T
Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano
A/N: Another one for  @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe
follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
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You couldn’t sleep. 
The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland. 
You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got. 
For years you dreamed of being a big movie star. 
Much like every young person who came to LA. 
Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year. 
By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it. 
Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.
You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month. 
They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason. 
Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead. 
Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you. 
You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change. 
Not just because they offered you the job. 
No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.
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Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was. 
You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens. 
And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope. 
But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years. 
You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then. 
He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing. 
But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life. 
So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition. 
Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.
Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional. 
Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone. 
2:43 am. 
Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back. 
In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo. 
You should be beyond happy. 
Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined. 
Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet. 
You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him. 
Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed. 
More than once. 
In front of the camera. 
But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you. 
You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room. 
You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay. 
You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound. 
In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise. 
You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up. 
He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.
And so instead he played. 
And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other. 
Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play. 
His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song. 
When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face. 
„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked. 
You hummed in agreement. 
„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side. 
„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled. 
„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile. 
„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place. 
„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you. 
„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him. 
„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed. 
„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head. 
You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.
„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours. 
„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered. 
„Yeah?“ He asked. 
„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply. 
„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again. 
„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment. 
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„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes. 
„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest. 
You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too. 
„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face. 
He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.
„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked. 
„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie. 
„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down. 
„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go. 
„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry. 
The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces. 
„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder. 
„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. 
„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging. 
„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…
You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.
„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked. 
„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours. 
You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped. 
„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss. 
The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet. 
Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile. 
„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over. 
„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him. 
„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready. 
And you did actually get married. 
Seven months later.
On a beach. 
In the rain. 
Without any interruptions. 
276 notes · View notes
astraariel · 1 year
Text
eternal snow
pairing: sanji x fem!reader
summary: your love for sanji was unconditional, unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same seeing as there were petals coming out of your mouth.
word count: 3.6K
warnings: spoilers (?) just the name of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!
tags: loosely based on “eternal snow” from fullmoon wo sagashite; angst; hanahaki disease; implied cheating; modern!au; hurt no comfort; lovesick; requited unrequited love
author's note: I think along with everyone opla is taking over my life so it encouraged me to finish this fic I started months ago lol. once again I like angst and this is soooo ooc of sanji he would never cheat I love him so much I’m sorry. on another note, I really like AmaLee’s cover of this song so you can give it a listen if you want to feel the vibe. 
also, ignore the fact that Pudding is sixteen, she’s older than that in this. I couldn’t really think of anyone else to have/didn't want to think of a different character. just know, she’s of age. other than that, ignore grammar mistakes and enjoy♡
──★ ˙ ̟read pt2 here!
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You weren’t entirely sure how you had gotten to this point. You were certain that you two would be together forever. How you had unknowingly lost the one you love so dearly, you would never know.
Sanji was a flirt and you loved it, he could simply say that you looked beautiful today and you’d melt. Hell, that’s how you too met, Nami had introduced you two and Sanji wooed his way into your heart. You knew that he had you in the palm of his hand, but you weren’t sure you could say the same for him.
Sanji was an attentive lover. When he loved, he showered you with his attention. You could always tell that his presence was there whenever you spoke. He’d care and cater to every request you asked of him, not allowing you to lift a single finger. It’s who he was.
You were blinded by your love for Sanji that you never noticed him slipping away from your grasp.
The two of you were currently sitting together on your living room couch. Sanji mentioned there was a new show he wanted to watch, so here the two of you were. Your attention was focused on the TV in front of you while his was on his phone.
You glance at him, “Who’s that?” 
He hadn’t looked away from it for more than 30 seconds throughout the last episode. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he looks at you. 
“Oh, it's the new dessert chef at the restaurant,” he shuts his phone off, “I've been assigned to help her around and show her the ropes,” he smiles, “It’s nothing, you want popcorn?” 
You turn to him, “Of course I do.” He gets up to walk to your kitchen, “Hey, I love you.”
He walks up behind you and bends down, kissing your head, “And I love you more.” He stands up and you hear him rummaging through the pantry for a popcorn packet. 
You cough slightly, “Could you grab me some water, Sanji?” He shouts back a response but you don’t make it out because you’re too busy pulling a petal out of your mouth.
♡‧₊˚
After that lone petal had made its introduction, it planted itself as a constant. Every so often for the following weeks, you’d feel something weird in your mouth, only to pull out a single flower petal.
You weren’t sure what was going on, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think too much about it. On top of the weird cough you were having, Sanji was also acting off. 
It was small at first, just tiny, little white lies that he’d tell you. 
Like when he’d say he was tired, that he was going to bed, but you could hear him on his phone laughing at something from the room. Or when he claimed that his phone had died and that’s why he hadn’t texted you back even though you were hanging with Nami at the time and he had replied to a video she had sent him a minute after you texted him. 
That was just the first few weeks.
You weren’t sure when the white lies became real lies but it had only spiraled more. You had found that he wasn’t even bothering with lying anymore, simply stating that he was too busy to come over or that he didn’t even want to hang out with you that day.
Sanji would claim to be too tired and not bother to see you for an entire week, but then he’d call you complaining that he missed you and question why the two of you hadn’t gone on a date recently and then insist that he was going to cook dinner for the two of you. Those times were always the best. It made you feel like nothing was wrong. 
It was pure whiplash. 
You were never sure which Sanji you were gonna get that day. Maybe it’d be the Sanji that you loved or this new person who had taken over and wouldn’t even text you back for days on end. 
Recently, he was your loving, doting boyfriend. Which caused you to completely forget about the flower petals you were currently collecting from your mouth when you were being distracted by Sanji’s full attention. 
You were lying on Sanji’s chest recounting your day to him when suddenly the sound of his phone pinging cut you off. 
A quiet chuckle made you peek up at Sanji, his eyes were looking at his phone intently, whatever was on his screen, clearly captivated him more than what was coming out of your mouth.
You sit up, his blatant disinterest in your day annoying you. 
“Did I do something wrong?” Your voice cuts through the room.
He looked up at your now sitting form, it looked like he was just acknowledging your presence.
He lets out a noise of confusion, “What?”
“Are you angry at me? Did I say or do something that pissed you off? Because, please, just tell me, I can't take it anymore.” you pleaded.
You notice Sanji’s body tensing, his brow scrunching in even more confusion. He laughs awkwardly, “Baby, what are you talking about? I’m not angry.” he looks away, “I love you, you know that right?”
And suddenly, you weren’t angry anymore. 
You smiled, “I love you too.”
He glances at his phone again.
But you don’t care, because he loves you. 
Satisfied with his response, you settle back down but are interrupted when you begin to cough. Quickly, you stand up to fetch your handkerchief from your pocket, wiping your mouth swiftly. 
You look back at Sanji, “I’m gonna-” but before you can finish, you feel the familiar flowers clawing their way up your throat. You walk out of the room coughing. 
Sanji doesn’t look up from his phone.
♡‧₊˚
He was late.
Again. 
You were exhausted. The constant lies that you fooled yourself into believing for the sake of your heart were beginning to wear on you. 
The old hoodie you were wearing enveloped you in an attempt to provide yourself some level of comfort that no one could really give you anymore. 
It’s late, around midnight, last you checked. The spaghetti dinner left on the table you had cooked had long gone cold. The Baratie had closed hours ago and Sanji still wasn’t home. 
You sit in complete darkness, the TV is currently rattling off an old rerun of some show you didn’t watch. You’re too tired to get up and find the remote to change the channel so you settle on watching the old comedic sitcom. You’re holding your trusty handkerchief that’s become your best friend in the past months; ready to close around your mouth in an attempt to catch the petals of flowers that’d come up your throat every so often. 
Your eyes glaze over the screen when you hear the door creak open. Footsteps were heard as a soft clatter sounded throughout the room from Sanji setting his keys down on the counter. 
You sit up slowly, in an effort to prohibit any intense coughing. 
Your eyes meet Sanji’s surprised ones, “You’re still awake? It’s late, you should go to bed.” he looks away. 
“You missed dinner.” You look over at Sanji’s form, he’s stiff, you note.
“I stayed late to help close, sorry we can reschedule.” He brushes you off swiftly.
“Was she there?” The argument had already begun, why not fuel it some more?
Sanji whips his head at you, an incredulous look gracing his features. “Who are you talking about?” Acting dumb was never a good look on him. 
Your tired eyes stare at him, “I know you’re spending time with her.” The venom in your tone was palpable.
You were over the lies. You were over the constant tiptoeing between each other, you’re honestly surprised he still even decided to come over. It would have been better for him to stay at his place and just call you in the morning to tell his lie. 
He has balls, you’ll give him that.
“Do you even love me anymore?”  
The silence that surrounded the room was upsetting. Of course, he didn’t, who were you fooling? You had all the proof you needed in all of the trashcans around your house, discarded tissues soaked in blood, and petals filled the bins.
Sanji scoffs, “I don’t know what you want from me.” He doesn't answer the question, “Why are you asking if I love you, you're being needy.” He stares at you before continuing, “If you don’t trust me,” he looks away, “Then maybe we should break up.” With a tone of finality, he turns around and walks toward the door, the sound of it shutting echoing throughout the house.
You’re left alone in the silence, the ticking of the clock on the wall muffling your coughs that were accompanied by flowers and blood. 
♡‧₊˚
With the new development of the blooms coming out of your throat, you felt defeated. You’re not sure what you did in a past life to deserve this. You didn’t wish this on anyone, it was a lonely and awful feeling, physically and emotionally. 
You’ve gotten used to your condition. It had been a month since you’d seen Sanji after he had broken things off and in that month, you would constantly find yourself leaning over the toilet bowl, hacking up blood and flower blooms. 
You finally had the courage to look up what you assumed was hanahaki disease. It was a rare condition, but you were certain that was what was causing you pain. The only cure was to have surgery that resulted in the patient forgetting about whomever they had loved. That you’d act as if nothing had happened, that you’d live in ignorance bliss afterward. 
Sacrificing your heart for your life. 
After that month, you had decided to go to a coffee shop forcing yourself to get out of the house and do something. 
So you went to Sanji’s favorite coffee shop. 
Why you had put yourself through that? You weren't sure.
You remember wrapping your hand around the door handle, ready to walk in when a wisp of light auburn hair had caught your attention inside the cafe. 
There she was. Pudding. The girl who had replaced you. The one who had captivated Sanji’s attention in a way you could only dream of.
Sanji stood beside her, you were certain he couldn't see you from inside, his attention was fully on Pudding’s face, absorbing whatever story she had been telling him. 
He had never looked at you like that.
Did he ever love you? Were you that stupid to even see the truth? Had it been there all along and you were simply too blind to notice?
An “excuse me” had brought you back to reality and had you rushing back to your apartment in hopes of not bumping into Sanji or Pudding. You weren't sure your heart could take it if you were forced to talk to them.
After that defeat you noticed that you were no longer hacking up petals, but fully blossomed flowers, you couldn’t walk for a long distance without wheezing, the flowers constricting your airways preventing you from wanting to do anything. You knew you were nearing the final stage, soon roots were going to begin to show up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go to a doctor. You had read that the longer you kept this from being treated, you’d enter the point of no return. 
So, you simply waited.
Your mind was reeling. You never wanted to stop loving Sanji. You didn’t care about the pain that it brought you. 
You don’t care that you still long to have Sanji tell you that he loves you. To tell you and for you not to immediately have to turn away and cough up blood and flowers. 
You missed him. You yearned for him.
After Nami had found out why you and Sanji broke up, she went on a rant about how she was going to kill him, on how he could have done this to you. You weren't sure if you had ever seen her get so angry before. 
But even after that, you confessed that you still loved him. 
She proceeded to call you insane, but she simply didn’t understand. She didn’t know about how his eyes would sparkle when he would go on about a new recipe that he developed and how he was certain that it was going to be the new hit at the Baratie. She didn’t know how bashful he got when you complimented him on his food. How he’d kiss you like how it was the first time you were kissing each other.
You loved him. And you would forever love him.
But he haunted your life. Leaving you lying at night, not even allowing you to find comfort in your dreams since he haunted those too. When you’d close your eyes you could only mourn for the love that once was. To mourn for him even though he was alive and well, but could you say the same for yourself?
You had long accepted that you were going to die. If anything, you willed it. Never did you want to forget your love for Sanji. The idea that you would never be able to recall how he made your heart pound every time he’d look at you, would be a nightmare.
But you were tired. 
In the months after the cafe incident you would go through phases where the pain would turn to anger, cursing Sanji, wishing you two had never met, wishing that Nami had never introduced you too. 
But the anger would never stay directed towards Sanji. It would always circle back to you. And anger would turn to pity and pity would turn to sadness. 
You wanted to cry and scream at the sky, to yell at the world, to question why love felt this way. Why couldn't he just love you back, why were you being punished for simply loving him unconditionally?
You suffocate yourself in the love that you have for Sanji. Sacrificing your every breath to simply feel the true and fierce love you felt for him. You’d cry until you were gasping for air, til you were choking up flowers that were clogging your lungs. You wished, begged, for it to go away. Wishing that you had never fallen for him. 
But even with all the pain he caused you. You could never hate him.
You could never hate Sanji.
You can’t even bring yourself to hate Pudding, it wasn't her fault that Sanji was infatuated with her rather than you.
And you could never truly hate him for that.
The sterile white walls and the smell of disinfectant wafting through the air brought you back to reality. 
Recalling how hours before Nami had found you on the ground of your bathroom, post-hacking your brains out from the various blooms of flowers that rose from your throat at what seemed like at every hour of the day as of recently. You hadn’t heard her call for you when she entered your apartment so you weren’t able to hide anything from her. 
“Are you insane?” Her voice ricocheted in the bathroom after you had explained to her what had been happening to you for the last couple of months.
You were numb the entire car ride to the hospital as Nami yelled at you for being so careless. 
“Why are you letting that boy kill you?” 
Why were you? 
Why were you putting yourself through this pain, knowing he would never love you again?
The recent memory reminded you of Nami’s presence on the side chair that was placed beside the crunchy bed you were currently sitting on. Her brown eyes met yours and smiled softly at you. 
“You’re gonna be okay.” Nami’s attempt at reassurance was comforting to you for 5 seconds before the door swung open revealing the doctor. 
“Hello,” she said your name, “you’re the one with hanahaki disease, correct?” You glance over at Nami before replying to the doctor in confirmation. “Well, unfortunately, it has been developing for a while and if you had come just a little bit later it would have been untreatable, so I highly suggest proceeding with the procedure as soon as possible.”
Your hands grew clammy. This was it. You were going to be relieved from this grueling life you had found yourself in. You would finally be able to go back to normal. 
Normal. 
Would it truly be normal if you didn’t love Sanji anymore? Could you truly live with yourself knowing that you gave up the one thing that has been keeping you going? You guess you wouldn’t actually remember your love for him if you did the surgery but your heart would know. Your soul would know. 
You wished that all of this pain would go away. Longing to run back to Sanji, for him to stop the anguish that you felt. To have him whisper that he loved you and for you to not cough up flowers anymore. To know that he truly meant the words that he was saying.
You wondered how your life would have gone if you had never fallen for Sanji. Would your life still lead you to this very moment of hell that you’re living currently? You would think that hell would be hot, blazing with heat, but all you felt was the coldness of lies that you believed that spewed from Sanji’s lips when he spoke to you. 
You would like to think that you wished you had never fallen into this trap. That your heart never fell for him, but you knew better. You knew that he had your heart from the beginning. You were doomed from the first interaction.
Wasn’t it a true act of love if you could let the person go? Wouldn’t it be the final seal of approval of your love if you went through with the surgery? The love that you felt for Sanji would be proven by this simple act. 
You felt Nami’s hand grab yours. Her eyes were filled with remorse, a sadness that you could distinguish as the same sadness that you saw in your eyes ever since that first petal came to be.
Anticipatory grief.
She was grieving your love for him already, grieving for your heart, how you would never love again, how you would never love him again.
You sigh. 
♡‧₊˚
You wake up to the soft murmurs of the television in the corner of the room. 
Your mind was hazy, from what, you weren't entirely sure yet. It felt as if you had lost something like it was on the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t think of exactly what it was.
Guess it wasn’t important.
Your eyes wander over to your surroundings, the hospital room is bare except for the basic, usual furniture. Your eye caught movement out of the corner of your eye, turning your face to examine what it was.
A balloon with the words “Get well soon!” fills your vision, and your gaze scans over the hearts that surround the bubble letters in bright yellow hues. You reach over the side table to grab the card that sat under the balloon. 
Hope you feel better - Nami.
Sad that you had missed your friend, you made a mental note to pay her a visit after you were discharged from the hospital to thank her.
A soft knock echoed throughout the room, your attention to the door opening revealing the doctor. “Hi, glad you’re awake. The procedure was a success. You should be good to go soon, but take it easy for the next two weeks.”
The procedure.
You quickly scour your brain for answers of who it was you loved but came up short. 
Guess that was the point, wasn’t it? 
Before you could thank the doctor, rushed footsteps were heard outside the room, hasty knocks piercing the air along with the clamor of the door opening quickly. 
Sanji’s blond hair comes into view, and he stands, wide-eyed, near the doorframe. He was panting slightly, a sign that he possibly had been running before he got here. 
He says your name quietly, the doctor gives you a nod before excusing herself from the room to give you guys privacy. 
“Sanji,” you smile brightly at him, “Did you get off of work? Why are you here?”
His eyes shift over to the balloon on the stand beside the bed. “Nami told me about the…procedure.”
“Really?” you roll your eyes teasingly, “It’s not that big of a deal honestly, that Nami. Always the worrier, thank you for visiting me though, you’re a good friend, Sanji.” You look away before you can notice Sanji’s face falling. 
You look back at him, “Oh, could you take me home? I probably shouldn’t be driving right now.” you laugh quietly and scan Sanji’s face. His mind seemed to be somewhere else, perhaps he was really busy at the restaurant. “If you can, if not I’ll just call Nami.” 
“No,” he clears his throat, “Yeah I can take you home.” 
You offer him a smile, “Thanks, hey I think I may have to fill out some paperwork. Could you grab it while I go change?” You begin to stand up slowly before he rushes over to help you up.
You look up at him to thank him again when you realize his eyes are watering. 
Weird. 
Your eyebrows knit in worry, “Hey, are you okay?”
He blinks rapidly while looking away from you. His hand lets go from his grasp on your arm and runs it through his blonde hair while turning away from you. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he coughs, “Uh, I’m gonna go look for those papers.”
He walks out of the room before you can respond, leaving you slightly confused but you shake it off before you begin to look for your clothes. 
You don’t see Sanji standing outside the doorway, coughing up a flower petal. 
821 notes · View notes
sommerbueckers · 2 months
Note
HIHI ITS 🤍 I LOVED THE LAST ONE SHOT YOU WROTE FOR MY REQUEST SO IM BEING GREEDY AND SENDING ANOTHER⁉️
so basically it’s fluff with paige finding out her gf/flirty friend?? doesn’t know how to drive/isn’t good at it and teaching her🤭🤭 just imagine paige teases her about her bad parking, hand on her thigh the whole time she tries to focus on driving, praising her when she’s doing good
need this woman SO BAD
Did y'all miss me??
HI BABY, so glad you loved the last one and I hope this one meets ur standardsssss
Paige sighed as she pulled into a gas station and parked the car. It was mostly deserted with the exception of a family that was taking their leave.
"I'll pump and you grab snacks?" she quirked a brow at you and was met with a nod.
The two of you were four hours into your adventitious road trip and you could tell Paige was getting tired. You had encouraged her to get as much rest as possible so that she'd have enough energy to make the full drive, it's not because you didn't want to drive, but because you didn't know how.
You had never learned to drive simply because you never needed to. Throughout high school you had taken the bus to and from school, your friends and parents drove you to every public event, and you never went anywhere you didn't feel absolutely inclined to. So learning to drive was never something that crossed your mind.
But sitting in the passenger seat of Paige's car with her barely able to keep her eyes open, it was the only thing on your mind.
You grabbed two Redbulls from the refrigerator section and a couple random snacks before making your way to the register. Pulling out your wallet you said, "Can I put twenty-five on pump four?"
...
"You get me Tru Fru?" Paige perked up when she noticed you approaching the car.
"Duh, a Redbull too, can't have you fallin' asleep behind the wheel," you snorted, hoping she got the message.
"About that," the blonde started, leaning in through the driver side window, "I was thinking you could take over for a little."
"Take over what?"
"Driving, what else?" she laughed.
"How am I gonna watch my show if I'm driving?"
"C'mon ma, just for a little. I just need a break."
"I told you to go to sleep last night but you wanted to watch another episode, now you have to pay the price."
"Bro," she groaned, resting her forehead on her forearms. "It's not like you were against watching another episode, you wanted to see the recoupling just as much as I did."
"Wait we need to talk about that for a moment, because that shit was crazy."
"Nah for real though! I love Mackenzie 'n' all but choosin' her over Courtney was fuckin' crazy."
"Yeah, yeah and-"
"No, stop," Paige interrupted, "you're trying to distract me from the conversation."
You sighed in defeat, "It was working for a moment," you mumbled.
"Please peach, just drive. Drive for a little and then we can switch back," she pleaded.
"Paige I can't..."
"Why not?"
"Because I-" you sighed and rubbed your hands over your face, "I can't drive."
"What do you mean?"
She was met with silence as you shook your head and leaned back, embarrassed to admit it out loud.
"Look I get that you don't want to but I don't want to drive another-"
"No, Paige I literally can't drive. Like I never learned how."
"Huh? You're jus' lyin' so you don't have to drive," she frowned.
"Dude why do you think I never drive to your house?"
"'Cus you don't have a car."
"And why do you think that is? 'Cus I can't fuckin' drive."
Paige stared silently at you, her eyes wide with shock as she processed the information. She bit the inside of her cheek and tapped her fingers against the door. When the pump popped out of the socket, she placed it back into the hold and got into the car.
She didn't start it back up, just stared at you with a teasing smile.
"You really never learned how to drive?" she asked.
"Never."
"You never wanted to learn?"
"I never needed to."
"So how did you get everywhere?"
"The same way I do now. Ubers, busses, my friends."
Paige shook her head, "I can't believe this, we gotta do somethin' about this."
...
"What is this?" you frowned, pausing your Netflix show and looking through the windshield.
"This is my course."
"Your what?"
"My driving course, where you're gonna learn how to drive," Paige said.
"Paige what? No, what're you doing?"
Paige parked the car and unbuckled her seatbelt, not answering your question as she stepped out and walked over to your side.
"Either you can get out this car willingly or I can get you out myself. You pick."
You looked up at her with pleading eyes, begging her not to make you do this. But she didn't seem to care, leaning patiently against the car door as she waited for you to get out.
"Ugh, fuck."
...
"Alright adjust your mirrors, make sure you can see your surroundings," Paige instructed.
"Oh my god, look at my eyebrows!" you frowned, running your finger across all the little hairs surrounding them.
"Focus!" Paige exclaimed, thumping your head. "Now put the car in drive."
"It won't move," you roughly tried yanking the gear stick back but it wouldn't budge. "Maybe this is a sign that we shouldn't be doing this."
"Shut that shit up," Paige snorted, "put your foot on the break and then change gears."
Once you switched the gears and let your foot off the break, the car began to move on its own. In a panic, you slammed your foot back down, jerking the car forward.
"Shit! I wasn't even pressing the gas," you frowned at the blonde.
"Yeah the car moves by itself," Paige suppressed a laugh as she nodded at you. "Just relax," she breathed out, gently rubbing her hand up and down your thigh. "You don't gotta be scared, i'm right here."
You nodded your head and gave her a smile, turning your attention back to the empty parking lot in front of you. With a deep breath, you finally eased your foot off the break.
...
"Go up more...little more. Good girl," Paige gave your thigh a light squeeze as she praised you.
You could feel your cheeks heat up at her words and you did your best to focus on driving.
"Alright now put the car in reverse and turn the wheel that way as you back up," the blonde said.
"Can't believe I'm fuckn' doing this," you breathed out through a laugh.
Paige smiled, "Doin' great baby."
Paige's hand inched higher and higher the more you backed the car into the lines. As her hand crept toward the inside of your thigh, you panically -- for the second time -- slammed your foot on the break.
"What just happened?" she asked when you parked the car.
"I got nervous," you shrugged innocently.
Paige smirked knowingly at you before unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car to check your job. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline and she tilted her head, chuckling to herself.
"I don't think I've ever seen worse," she said once back in the car.
"Stop. Was it really that bad?"
"No, no," she smiled, taking your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles, "You just need a lil practice, that's all."
"You sure? Don't lie to make me feel good," you said.
"I'm not lying."
"Okay."
A beat of silence passed before Paige spoke again.
"I have seen Drew do better though..."
"Paige!"
...
"You're not being a very good student right now," Paige whispered, using her thumb to drag your bottom lip down.
"I'm only as good as you make me," you smirked.
You softly pressed your lips against hers, smiling when you felt her hand travel to the back of your neck and hold you close.
"You're so pretty," she caressed your cheek with her other hand, "and smart...even though you can't drive."
"You are such a dick," you playfully slapped her arm, pulling away and sitting back in your seat.
She shrugged to herself and opened her bag of Tru Fru, tossing a few pieces of the chocolate into her mouth. "Next lesson."
...
"Alright so this is an intersection," Paige explained, "it's packed."
You stared blankly out at the empty parking lot, furrowing your eyebrows and then side-eyeing her.
"Art of imagination," she patted your thigh. "Now the car on the left of you was here when you got here, but the car on your right got here at the same time as you, do you know what to do?"
"The car on my left goes first," you answer.
"Right, but what about the other car? Who gets to go first?"
"Whoever presses the gas harder," you snort, only to be met with Paige's unimpressed expression. "Fine. Uh...don't they go first? I have to yield to cars on my right."
"Bro you got it!" Paige smiled.
You clapped briefly, shyly shrugging your shoulders as you looked up at her. "I think I deserve a kiss."
"Oh do you?"
"Mhm...et lite kyss," you mumbled.
"Fuck that's so sexy, say somethin' else," Paige said.
"Kom hit," you gestured for her to come here with your finger, connecting your lips in a slow kiss.
"Hmm," she hummed against your lips, "you ready to go?"
You nodded your head, "Please. Do I have to drive?"
"No, not gonna make you do that."
"Good, 'cus if you did, there'd be no kisses for you tonight."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm ashamed to admit that I am in fact a lazy son of a bitch...sorry
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wenellyb · 5 months
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9-1-1 Season 7 Episode 4: Was Buck lying when he said he was trying to get Tommy's attention?
I'm a little frustrated about the people who said that Buck was lying when he said he was trying to get Tommy's attention because according to them, he was trying to get Eddie's attention not Tommy's, and the argument they use is the gym scene...
I'm frustrated because I want to ask them: "Have you guys never watched a TV show, ever?"
TV showrunners have different way of structuring their episodes, some episodes are set up to be emotionnal, some are set up to be dramatic or romantic, some are heavy on the action scenes and some are meant to get a surprised reaction by introducing a plot twist the audience didn't see coming. It can be a big plot twist like the finale of the 1st season of the Good Place or it can be a smaller one like in this episode of 911.
And whenever they want to set up a plot twist, the writers will put small hints along the way, that are not obvious right away but will contribute to the "ah" moment when everything clicks into place after the plot twist is finally revealed.
The whole point of the episode was for people to think Buck was trying to get Eddie's attention because he was jealous of his best friend spending time with someone else and BAM, it's revealed that in fact it was the "someone else" Buck had been interested in all along.
And if you look closely, there are clues throughout the episode showing that it was about Tommy all along.
1. Buck asking Tommy for a tour.
At first we think that Buck was just testing the waters and thinking about switching jobs but at the end of the episode Buck reveals it's because he was trying to get Tommy's attention.
Moreover, a lot of people assume Buck was disappointed because Tommy left with Eddie and he was jealous about Eddie. But if you pay attention, Buck's smile drops the moment Tommy turns him down for drinks, and that was even before he saw Eddie in the car.
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2. Buck's rant to Maddie
Buck was complaining about Eddie spending time with Tommy and even going to a basketball game with him.
And later when he talked to Maddie after accident accidentally injuring Eddie, he admitted he did it because he felt left out and was trying to get "his" attention.
But in retrospective, he never specified who he was trying to get attention from. He could have meant Eddie or Tommy.
And it's confirmed that he was indeed talking about Tommy when he says this.
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3. The gym scene
We all assumed Buck was trying to get Eddie's attention when he was at the gym because he wanted to spend more time with him. But if Buck had wanted to hang out with Eddie, he would have just asked, they're best friends. Buck ordered the basket Ball because he wanted to be invited to the basketball game because Tommy would be there. Same for the karaoke. Buck never had a problem with asking Eddie to hang out, the only differentiating factor here is Tommy.
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Why would Buck suddenly be so awkward around Eddie? He was trying to get an invite so he could see and when it didn't work he asked Chimney.
4. The basketball game
Buck admitted that he accidentally hurt Eddie because he was trying to get Tommy's attention.
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5. The "big reveal"
Up until the very end of the episode we were made to believe Buck was being jealous of his best friend having a new best friend.
Even Tommy thought so.
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It's not until Buck reveals he wanted to get to know Tommy and was trying to get his attention that everything clicks into place for the audience and we understand why Buck was acting like that.
We weren't watching someone being jealous over his best friend spending time with someone else but someone acting like a fool because he had a crush.
TL:DR: Buck was trying to get Tommy's attention all along. The show just set up the episode in a way that would lead to a plot twist, a "big" reveal and a romantic kiss.
What do you guys think? Was Buck trying to get Eddie's attention as well?
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whateverisbeautiful · 14 days
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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL
#50: The Dream Come True (1.05)
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gif cred: @machonnes
This moment is a dream come true for Rick. A dream come true for Michonne. And a dream come true for many of us. 😭
It's also a top 10 all-time Richonne scene to me. 😭 For a long while my favorite thing Rick had ever said to Michonne was “How’d I get so lucky finding you?” And then TOWL came along and Rick was saying some of the most romantic lines possible throughout this miniseries. And in this breathtaking scene right here, Rick says my official favorite thing he’s ever said to Michonne. The whole moment is the epitome of beautiful 🥹💍...
Before we even get into this breakdown, you know I gotta dance and shout because Won't 🎉 He 🎉 Do 🎉 It...
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Y'all, I am so grateful that our captains ensured this ship and this fandom stayed blessed and highly favored at every possible turn. 🙌🏽😇And this scene right here is an all-caps BLESSING. 🥳
After taking out Jadis, Richonne is back walking in the woods and Rick points out where her helicopter is ahead. He then says, “What you said to me before in front of her, it wasn’t just for her.” I like how Rick already knows Michonne was not bluffing with Jadis.
And Michonne replies, “You couldn’t have changed them by yourself, Rick. But together - 'the whole damn world.'” It always makes me smile hearing Michonne say this in ep 5 after hearing Rick say it in ep 4 because Dream Michonne said it in ep 1. 😊
Rick’s mind really does know Michonne well because what he imagined her saying is something she’s now saying in reality and believing wholeheartedly. She knows the two of them together can make the world the good place they believe it should be.
I also think it’s sweet how Michonne doesn’t think Rick should have to try and change them alone. She’s never felt Rick should have to carry anything alone. 🥲 And now that she’s back with him, she’s with him all the way, so now changing the CRM is their shared mission. See, even Dream Michonne is always right 😌...
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Michonne says, “I see how we could make it better, and if we can, Rick, we have to.” Thats Richonne for you. 😌 When called to step up and help others they always do. 👌🏽 I love that they know what they’re capable of and care to make it their responsibility to fight for others.
And now they’re taking a more balanced approach because before, Rick thought he’d have to essentially give up his life to fight for future generations - but now they know they can stop the CRM and still go home and live life together with their family as well.
As Michonne speaks, Rick turns to her when she says his name, and when she's finished talking, she continues walking forward. But then Rick stops her. 😍
And y’all...I’m already twirling my hair and kicking my feet just from the moment he takes her arm and says, “Michonne, wait.” 🥲
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gif cred: @nat111love
The moment before he takes her arm you can see Rick looking at Michonne like he truly doesn't want to let one more second go by without proposing to her. He's waited practically a decade for this moment and he can't wait any longer. 🥲 Especially with the hefty undertaking they're about to do with stopping the CRM, I love that he wants to make sure they have this private moment between them before all that happens.
When talking about the proposal dream in episode 1, I had said that Rick’s thought process was “Before we make the world ours, I want to make you mine.” And I feel like that’s also what plays out in real life in this scene. Because before they go and save the world, he first wants Michonne to know just how much she saved his, and that he’s forever hers. 🥹
So Rick stops her and then they face each other and Rick says, “I’ve been wanting to say something.” And y’all, the little nervous breath he takes after he says that. 😭 It makes my heart melt that Rick is nervous for this proposal moment. Similar to his nervousness in the Say Yes proposal moment.
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He and Michonne have already been through everything together and he knows they’re committed to each other forever, Michonne has literally said yes to creating life with him already - but Rick is still nervous in these woods because this is still a big important moment for them. 🥹
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gif cred: @nat111love
Seeing Rick’s endearing nervousness, it's like you can see a glimpse of the boy he likely was in high school who, while Shane was probably running game and smooth-talking all these girls, Rick was being more reserved. It also makes you see the man who only ever wanted to give all that love in his good kind heart to one woman, the right woman, and now he's found her - he finally found the perfect woman for him who loves the way he shows love and loves him back just as fiercely. 🥹
It’s sweet how much Rick feels like he hit the ultimate jackpot getting Michonne. And his energy both in the dream 'proposal' and in this irl proposal depicts how he still feels like this woman, whose heart he has so completely, is someone he truly lucked out in finding. It’s like even after all these years, he still can’t believe he got so lucky finding her. And not just finding her, but finding that she wants him as much as he wants her.
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Michonne is an extraordinary gift to him and Rick knows it. He’s known it for years. That’s why when he tells Michonne that he’s been wanting to say something, he means not just for the last few hours or days, but for nearly a decade he’s been wanting to tell her exactly what he says in this proposal - a proposal he’s thought about and dreamt about often.
Rick takes the ring out of his shirt pocket and I love how even part of why it takes him a minute to get the ring out is because he’s staring at her. Still as entranced as ever. 😋(Also it’s cute how the blood on his forehead even looks like an 'm.' He’s hers for real.😇)
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
I love the way Michonne looks at Rick as he takes out the ring. She has this moment of just looking at him so adoringly before even shifting her focus down to the ring that he holds up.
And then when she sees the ring, her face softens and she has this little smile and quiet breath and once again it just melts my heart. 😭
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gif cred: @nat111love
I always get so reflective on Richonne's overall journey with scenes like this. So I think about how Rick took out mints from his pocket and that ushered in Richonne's romantic relationship, and now here he takes a wedding ring from his pocket, wanting to further cement that Michonne is his wife. The best. 😭
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And then because he’s the greatest loverboy to ever exist, Rick holds up the ring and says, “It’s a broken world, Michonne, and you’re the only thing that puts it back together.” 🥹🥹🥹
If you think I’m squealing like a fool every time I hear this…you are correct. 🫠🥳 It’s so perfect and so powerful hearing Rick say this.
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
Part of what makes Rick and Michonne’s love story so special is that it depicts how a love so healthy and whole can grow and blossom even against the backdrop of a broken world. 
Andy really summed Richonne up perfectly in saying that they’re perfect partners in an imperfect world. And that was beautifully illustrated in this special ep 5 scene and all throughout Richonne's TWD/TOWL journey.
Also, after all those CRM folk tried to take credit for saving Rick’s life, it’s great that in his proposal he gives Michonne the credit for being the only one to put his world and the whole damn world back together. 
The way there’s so much emotion and sincerity as he whispers this. And I love how he says the only thing. Like the way this man constantly gives Michonne her flowers and acknowledges her as the greatest influence on his life is really something. 👏🏽🥹
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gif cred: @sharpesjoy
And as many have already noted, this wording is especially special when thinking back to season 3, when Rick was going through an extremely tough time mentally after the death of Lori.
Rick imagined speaking to Lori on the phone and there he became emotional saying that he couldn’t put the pieces back together. And it is just beyond beautiful and full circle that now Rick can look into Michonne’s eyes and tell her that she is the one who was finally able to put it all back together for him and with him. 🥲
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
I always say Rick and Michonne didn’t just find a second love in each other but a supreme love. The best love. They found the one. 💯 And particularly, they found the one who helps them make the world make sense and make life so worth living.
In plenty of TWD scenes between Richonne, it's clear that Michonne makes all the sense in the world to Rick and that she makes his world feel intact. Even pre-canon, as soon as Rick and Michonne realize they can trust each other, Rick has so many moments where it's clear he wants and needs her safe because she matters a lot to him and she's the North Star in his world.
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gif cred: @michonnegrimes
And no matter what else was going on, no matter how much was going through his head, Michonne could always reach Rick and he’d always hear her and resonate with what she’d say, what she thought, and where she’d lead him. She both repaired his broken world and made it so much brighter.
When Rick says Michonne is what puts the broken world back together, you just know he’s been wanting to say this exact thing for such a long time because he’s been aware of it for such a long time.
I think about how in season 7 Rick was aware that Michonne was the one who had led him this far and reinstilled in him the will to fight back.
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gif cred: @michonnegrimes
And now in The Ones Who Live, Rick gets to share that he’s aware that even despite the vast darkness and the heavy brokenness of this apocalyptic world, the world still hasn’t entirely fallen apart. And why? Because she puts it back together. 🥹
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gif cred: @sharpesjoy
I love how he doesn’t even just say his world, but the world. Rick has always felt like Michonne can bring everybody to the light like she’s done for him countless times.
When I think about how much Rick and Michonne have been through it fully warms my heart to think that Rick reflects back and feels it’s Michonne that kept their world together.
And it makes sense. From the moment she showed up in Rick’s life, she began putting pieces back together.
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She provided formula for his baby girl. She became the best friend his son needed. She saved his life against the Governor. She became wholly committed to being a part of Rick and Carl's family as they healed and traveled on the road to Terminus and she gave Carl and Rick warm lighthearted moments even despite this dark world. She co-led with Rick and led team family to their longest-standing home ASZ. And she became a fantastic mother to the Grimes children.
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Then through Rick and Michonne’s romantic relationship, she gave Rick something personal to have and enjoy for himself that wasn’t strictly about leading, protecting, providing, but really living and loving too.
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She gave him the strength to fight back and free themselves from the Saviors, and particularly instrumental was the way she built Rick back up after the devastating loss of their son Carl. ❤️‍🩹
I don’t think Rick survives that incredibly painful loss the way he did without Michonne being by his side, and I think Rick would cosign that.
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And even after that loss, where Rick’s world could have easily gone completely dark and bleak, instead he found a way to honor Carl’s memory and be present with the family he still has in his wife and daughter - so much so, that Rick even had enough hope in both the future and his love with Michonne that he and her planned to have a baby. 🥲
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Then, Rick's world actually did go dark only once he’s taken from Michonne. 💔
And it’s dreaming of her that keeps him going and keeps his world from ending. But when he can’t get to her anymore in dreams or reality, he forces himself to die while alive because he believes there is no scenario where he can be alive in this world without her.
But then she showed up again.
Michonne reentered his life in real life and fought so hard for him even when he had convinced himself that he’s stuck and not worth fighting for. Her love helped him see the light again and made him come alive again.
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And after the CRM broke Rick's world and his heart by taking away the image of Carl, Michonne even restored one of the most vital parts of his world - his son - to him with the phone portrait of their beloved boy. 🥹
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And now that they’re finally on the same page about going home together, Rick gets to actually look forward to being a father again to both his daughter and the son Michonne gave him. 🥹
Like if this isn’t the epitome of Hershel’s lovely sentiment that 'things break but they can still grow' and a whole new plant will arise, I don't know what is. Because even while Rick was away and feeling alone in the CRM, his family was still growing and his legacy was still living on and expanding through RJ. 😭
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I just say all this to say that when Rick tells Michonne she is the only thing that puts the world back together, he means that from the bottom of his heart. Because it’s a scientific fact. 
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Again, I'll forever love that Rick is utterly in love with the woman who changed his mantra from ‘We’re the Walking Dead’ to ‘We’re The Ones Who Live.’ Michonne changed his life. She saved his life. She brought him back to life. She put his world back together.
And it makes sense that Rick put an asterisk on their motto and felt he's only the one who lives if he lives with her - because an intense element of soulmates is now part of your very heart and soul lives outside of your body. They are that one. And I love the way Richonne operate as one throughout the flagship show and this miniseries to the point that they can both declare belonging to each other.
So y’all, clearly the "It's a broken world, Michonne, and you're the only thing that puts it back together" line alone was enough to have me reveling for days. But once again Richonne reminded me that there is no ceiling on how beautiful their love story can get as Rick then tells Michonne:
“‘Til my last breath, I am yours.”
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gif cred: @sharpesjoy
PERFECTION. My heart can’t even handle it. 😭
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That line is breathtakingly beautiful for so many reasons but especially for how Rick wants Michonne to know she’s the one for him past, present, future, forever. I adore that Rick so happily belongs to Michonne. And til his last breath. That couldn’t be more romantic. 🥹
It’s also so fitting because he’s saying that so long as he’s breathing he’s hers. And we visibly saw that play out. Because along Rick's years-long journey, he’s been alive, he’s been dead, and both versions still were madly in love with Michonne. All versions of Rick love Michonne. So truly as long as there is air in his lungs, he knows that any version of him will be hers. ♥️
And my heart is so happy for both of the characters to see Rick finally get his dream of directly telling Michonne, his North Star, that she’s the only thing that puts this broken world back together and he forever belongs to her. I love the way Rick always is aware of, vocalizes, and appreciates Michonnes immense importance. He knows there is no other that mends the world quite like her.
Then Rick just makes my heart burst even more when he gets down on one knee while holding up the ring. This perfect scene just kept getting more perfect with each second. 🥹
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gif cred: @nat111love
I absolutely adore that Rick stayed wanting to wife Michonne up any chance he could. Whether it's over dinner on their Say Yes honeymoon run, with a priest on a bridge like he was planning, in a dream on an idyllic park bench, and now here in reality, on one knee in a forest. 🥹
And I also love that this proposal comes in the fifth episode too. 5 Episodes & A Wedding Ring. 😊
I'll forever celebrate that we really got pretty much every single thing we could have ever wanted from The Ones Who Live. 😭 Like they really knew our Richonne wishlists and said...
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A huge thank you once again to Danai for being the one behind this decision to have a Richonne proposal moment. And of course, Andy delivered this whole moment flawlessly. 👏🏽 Those two are a true gift. 🎁
I know for many of us we consider that Say Yes dinner scene to be a Richonne proposal. And I still do view it like that, but I also love that in TOWL we get an even more direct and clear-cut proposal moment. Richonne was already so married but it’s great seeing them want to solidify it even further.
And I call it a proposal moment since there’s the whole Rick on one knee giving Michonne a ring, but I also really like how it feels like a proposal between a couple that already knows their husband and wife. A vow renewal of sorts.
We kinda get the best of both worlds too with Rick clearly saying a muted “Will you marry me?” in the scene. I don’t mind that it's muted because we get to visually see him say it while also knowing that it doesn’t even really need to be a question. The beautiful words that Rick said just before getting down on one knee are almost more of a vow to the woman he knows is and has long been his wife. And this is his reaffirming vow to be her devoted husband forever.
And I adore how this all goes to show that part of why Rick always seems so determined to give Michonne the world is because he knows she’s the one who put his back together. 🥹
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
So this part already did me in but y'all, it's not done because now we get to see Michonne's lovely reaction to her man's heartfelt declaration. And after 50 of these RIR posts, I think it's clear I'm extra as all get out, so of course I have to do a Part Two of this lovely dream-come-true scene. 👌🏽😌
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cosmicatta · 3 months
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One Piece Novel: Law — a short analysis
So, after a long time trying to get my hands on the Law light novel, I was finally able to read it recently! And, because I'm an obnoxiously intense person who can't just be normal about things, I found myself taking notes about everything I judged interesting.
And I thought I could share! So here's a mostly improvised essay about the Law novel, how it portrays Law and what it reveals about him as a character.
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Some notes before I start:
The edition I've read of this novel is the official Spanish translation by Planeta. When quoting and mentioning numbered pages, I'm referencing that edition.
I originally posted this on Twitter as a thread! If it sounds familiar, that might be why.
For those who haven't read the novel and might want to: be mindful of some trigger warnings, including gruesome medical descriptions, suicidal thoughts, mentions of abuse, and violence in general (I won't be touching on these subjects here though).
These are just my personal impressions, I'm not trying to tell anyone how they should interpret the novel or Law's character. I'm just doing this for fun!
The story takes place right after Cora dies, following young Law's journey as he makes it to Swallow Island and desperately tries to survive. There, he will meet Bepo, Penguin and Shachi, as well as Wolf, a novel-exclusive character that welcomes Law and the boys into his home as a family.
Overall, it's a very short read, agile and straightforward. The style is very juvenile, but that was to be expected, and I'd say it does a pretty good job at capturing the feeling of watching a One Piece episode. The novel does kinda feel like a mini arc.
I'm unsure if light novels can be considered 100% canon in general, but since the contents don't contradict anything from what we've already seen in the manga/anime, I'm going to assume we can at least take the events described in this one as canon.
But I'll leave the plot aside a little bit to focus more on Law's psyche, analyzing everything in the novel as material that helps us further understand him.
The entire book (save from a few specific passages) is written from Law's point of view and in first person, so it offers a more in-depth look at his way of thinking, motivations and ideals.
What I find most interesting in this sense is that the whole story is very centered around Law's kindness. Though he does admit several times that he had wanted to see the world burn when he was under Doflamingo's care (as we already know from the source material), the novel makes it very obvious that Law's true nature is compassionate. His inner voice even explicitly states that he enjoys helping and making others happy. (Quotes roughly translated from Spanish):
P. 27: "And I felt very comfortable collaborating with the task of helping others."
P. 92: "Knowing that I was going to free a person from their pain [...] gave me a joy I had never experienced before."
P. 136: "Just imagining the surprised faces of the Old Man, Bepo and the others brought a smile to my face" [when planning on getting fresh fish for dinner as a surprise].
And, despite living under Wolf's motto of "give to take," Law never expects anything in return for any of his good actions. In fact, he gets furious at Wolf himself when, after saving his life, the old man insists on giving Law anything he demands as compensation.
P. 120: "I didn't save you because I wanted a reward!" [...] They [Bepo, Shachi and Penguin] burst into tears of happiness when they realized that you had survived. That's more than enough for me! [...]" I won't let you belittle their tears!"
But even then, Law keeps arguing that he only saved Wolf "on a whim," much like he would say years later when asked why he chose to save Luffy's life. This is a common theme throughout the whole book (which is also pretty obvious in the manga)—Law doesn't recognize his own kindness.
It's not modesty or shyness, his inner monologue makes it very clear that he doesn't see himself as good-natured, and is often confused at his own motivations.
In their first meeting, when Bepo asks him why he is so nice to him, Law doesn't know what to answer; and after that, when Law finds himself wondering why he's trying so hard to save Shachi and Penguin despite their past history, he blames it all on "doctor's pride."
P. 48: "I wasn't even a good person."
Still, regardless of what Law might think of himself, living in Swallow Island seems to be making him progressively gentler. He was wary and hostile towards Wolf at first, but eventually lets himself trust people again, trying to honor Cora's memory and what he taught Law.
In Swallow Island he builds his new found family little by little, though never letting go of Cora and what he meant to Law.
P. 39: "Cora and I were family, that's what I felt at heart, I had no doubts. We had loved each other without saying it out loud [...] Would I feel the same for the Old Man and Bepo eventually?"
Slowly, he starts finding comfort and joy in community. He lets himself be carefree around his new friends, treating them with open affection, laughing and being surprisingly enthusiastic (although he quickly starts taking his role as a leader very seriously, and sometimes avoids showing weakness around them so as not to worry them.)
Law even gets to become an active part of life in Pleasure Town, where he and the other boys are cherished after 3 years living and working there. He's comfortable with his role in the community and appreciates the people in town. His sense of duty towards them shines especially when the pirates arrive to attack the town.
Again, this contrasts with how Law sees himself even in the manga/anime, where he insists that he acts mostly out of selfishness and only seeking his own benefit (or, in the best of cases "on a whim.")
But the truth is that Law's decisions are almost always related to other people's desires.
In this sense, the concept of guilt is also key to understand Law's motivations and his relationship with the world as a whole. This is especially obvious when it comes to Cora—Law even briefly wishes that they had never met, so that Cora would still be alive (p. 128-129.)
In a way, guilt is what moves Law forward, and what slowly starts transforming into a thirst for revenge, into rage and hatred towards Doflamingo and possibly towards himself too. It's a kind of tragic guilt born out of love.
His love for Cora still haunts him, his last wish for Law is the big enigma that he tries to solve during his 3 years in Swallow Island: be free. What is freedom to Law? How can he fulfill Cora's request? This is the question that gives meaning to the novel.
We know that Law wouldn't feel free until finally taking down Doflamingo and avenging Cora's death many years later, but he hasn't reached that point of determination in the novel yet. Maybe that's what gives the narration that hopeful and optimistic tone, with a young Law that's still finding himself, experiencing wonder in loving again, and learning what it means for him to be true to his values. It's the start of an adventure, and its core theme is love.
The ending illustrates this very well; I especially like the moment where Law names the crew as they're setting sail:
P. 243: "Cora's love that he showed me, Wolf's affection, the trust I had in my companions. One word embodied it all: Heart."
It is love that gives Law a reason to keep going. And I'm so glad that the novel doesn't shy away from this fact and isn't afraid of sounding "sappy" or "corny," because I do believe emotion is a very important part of Law's character.
The epilogue closes with a very interesting quote in the last page:
"You hear that, Cora? This is my... This is our pirate crew."
It is unclear if by "our" he is referring to himself and Cora, as if dedicating this new beginning to him, or if he means him and his crew. I'd personally like to think he means it both ways. But in any case, it's interesting that he openly shares the honor of "owning" his crew with someone else. He is the captain, but not the owner. It's another little way in which his generosity is evidenced.
Overall, it was a very enjoyable read, and it left me wanting more. Obviously, it's not a literature masterpiece, but it gives a lot of interesting material for character analysis, which is super fun.
Finally, here’s a few fun facts for those who can’t/don’t want to read the novel but enjoy the little trivia:
The Polar Tang was built and designed by Wolf.
Law’s first tattoo was "DEATH," and he got it at a local tattoo shop in Pleasure Town at around 15 years old.
Shachi and Penguin are childhood friends and likely met through their parents.
Shachi had always wanted to be a hair stylist.
Law is bad at cooking.
Both Shachi and Penguin are good at cooking, especially Penguin, who worked as a waiter in Pleasure Town.
The Hearts’ jolly roger was collectively designed by Law, Bepo, Shachi and Penguin days before leaving Swallow Island.
Law decided the name of their crew upon setting sail for the first time.
And I think that's all! ♥ I hope my rambling was enjoyable at least!
Edit: I've now posted an analysis of the Ace novels too!
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canonizzyhours · 4 months
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I'm a professional screenwriter. I know nobody reading this has any reason to believe that, and I work pretty hard to keep my fandom activity separate from my professional identity, so I'm not going to offer any proof that would doxx me here, believe me or don't. But it's true and I don't just mean I'm trying to get hired as a screenwriter, I mean I am pretty well established in the industry and I've worked on some stuff big enough you've probably heard of it. I've also been active in OFMD fandom for about two years now, since nearly the beginning.
The canyon really freaks me out because seeing it up close makes me worried I've drastically underestimated audiences' empathy gap around characters of color and tendency to sympathize with and excuse the actions of white characters. I've always tried to be conscious about that sort of thing in my work but now that I'm seeing the whole process up close it's so much worse than I always thought.
I think a lot about what I would have done during season 1 of OFMD, if I were in the writers' room and I'd wanted to make sure it would be clear to the audience that Izzy was Ed's abuser and wasn't acting out of secretly sympathetic motives and we're supposed to be genuinely horrified by his actions. I'm in writers' rooms workshopping issues like this all the time. I know the kinds of suggestions I'd make.
Like, if we were worried that the audience would think Izzy's hostility toward Stede was about class instead of homophobia, I might have suggested we make sure Izzy's dialogue never has any reference to Stede's class at all, and that we might do a subplot in one episode where Izzy is equally hostile toward Lucius, since Lucius clearly isn't rich but is extremely gay. But that already happened, and it didn't help.
If I wanted to make sure the audience understood that Izzy is bossing the crew around and screaming at everyone to work harder because he's a petty little bully on a power trip and not because the work actually needs to get done, I might have suggested a scene where Izzy deliberately makes a mess on purpose just so he can order the crew to clean it up. But that already happened, and it didn't help.
If I wanted to make it clear that Izzy has always been awful toward everyone around him -- especially his colleagues of color -- since long before the show started, I might have suggested we repeatedly emphasize throughout the season that while Fang is willing to work with him, he doesn't like or respect Izzy and this is because Izzy has always treated Fang very badly. Have him pull on Fang's beard for no reason and have Fang explicitly say he hates that but knows it wouldn't help to complain. Have Fang tell strangers jokes about times Izzy humiliated himself in public. Have a scene where everybody unanimously VOTES TO MURDER IZZY and someone explicitly stops to ask Fang if he's cool with this and Fang explicitly says yes this is absolutely fine with me and then he actively participates in the murder plan while smiling. But all of that happened and I still see the canyon insisting that Izzy was a much nicer person before the events of s2 when he wasn't under so much stress and has always been liked and respected by the PoC around him, including specifically Fang!
If I were worried that the audience might take seriously the idea that Izzy is motivated by "loyalty to your captain" -- well, honestly I don't think it ever would have occurred to me to worry about that, since he says that in a scene where he's in the middle betraying his captain and I'd probably assume people are capable of picking that up and understanding that when someone says they're abusing you for your own good you should not believe them. But if someone else insisted we address the concern, suggestions I'd make would include: make sure some of the first interactions we see between Ed and Izzy involve Izzy complaining about how he doesn't want to do the job Ed just gave him, then half-assing the mission and lying to Ed's face about it. Show Izzy deliberately undermining Ed to the crew by telling them he's half-insane, then insist to Ed that he's the only one keeping the crew loyal when they're worried about his judgment. But they did that stuff and we still have people thinking Izzy's central motivation throughout season 1 is selfless devotion to Ed.
The show did every single thing I would have suggested, and none of it worked. So what does it say about all the stuff I've already worked on, whenever I've written a scene where a white guy was being a dick to characters of color? Have I just been embarrassingly naive this whole time? Have I undermined my own work by not getting this?
You can't control audience reactions, I know that, that's part of what's great about art, you have to let go and accept that people will interpret things in ways you never intended, I get it. But if it's THIS impossible to choose words that will create the kind of feelings you meant to, what's the point? Is it even possible to write about the kind of abusive relationship Ed and Izzy have, where the white guy thinks he's entitled to control a brown man's life "for his own good" and that the brown guy is obligated to be grateful and reciprocate his "love" and not have a huge group of people creating elaborate justifications for the white guy? What else could they have done? What else can I do, when I'm writing about characters of color? I'm seriously asking. If anybody reading this has advice I want to hear it. What could I do?
#408.
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