#sorry i’m a big academic!tom enthusiast

[mistress-riddle]

rip tom riddle you would’ve loved getting a phd 😭

[the-haven-of-fiction]

Hear Me

Summary: Modern AU Professor Tom is away for the night and receives a distressed call from his wife.  

Genre: Fluff/Romance/Erotica (?)

Rating/Warning: M -  Possibly me being overly cautious.  Perhaps not everyone’s cup of tea.  Contains use of “Daddy” and things of that nature.  Non-explicit shenanigans.  Is “Literary Phone Sex” a thing in fiction?  I dunno.  You have been warned.

Author’s Notes: I just really hate Tom Hiddleston and my own imagination right now.  That fault is with those two things, but let’s blame @i-wanna-be-toms-body-pillow instead.  Same characters as See Me.  All mistakes are mine.

He was reaching for his phone to text her a goodnight kiss when her ringtone filled the hotel room.

"There is something skittering in the walls!" she Snoopy wailed before his greeting was complete. "Get back here right this instant and fulfill your wedding vows!"

He smiled at the sincere panic in her voice, feeling like it was disloyal but unable to stop it.  Her fear of the creepy crawlies, as she called them, was something he learned rather quickly about her.  She'd gone as far as to include it in their wedding ceremony, inspiring the same kind of smiles from those in attendance who were familiar with her long-standing aversion.

"Darling, as much as I relish being your rescuer and as much as I am loathe to deny any request of yours, I'm afraid I am unable to directly assist you with this."

"Then I want a divorce," she sniffed petulantly, inspiring a chuckle that accompanied the widening of his grin. "I'll find someone else, someone who won't leave me helpless and undefended to go prattle on about a paper at a stupid conference."

"Nonsense,” he replied and stretched his long legs, slouching in the chair a bit after two hours of putting the finishing touches on his lecture notes.  “You're never helpless.  That's what makes your chosen helplessness so appealing.  And you assured me that you were fine with my going alone."

She huffed at him and an idea that he had formed on the flight for a possible situation just like this came to his mind. It was that perfect irritating distance, just long enough to make the trip by car too tedious and just short enough for a mere hour in the air.  They had initially planned for her to accompany him to the academic conference at which he was presenting the following morning.  A surprise visit from a dear cousin she hadn’t seen in a couple of years had altered that.

It was their first overnight separation and they were both surprised at the degree of her anxiety over it; while he was secretly proud that she had progressed to the point where the reality of being without him, even for one night, was cause her to be in such a state, he was in equal measure truly concerned for her.  Although she had protested that she didn’t mind being without him for a night, his instincts had told him otherwise.  Curiosity was high.  He was eager to know if she would actually verbalize what she was feeling, if she trusted him to respond with that balance of indulgence and tenderness that she was learning to rely on.  

"Listen to me," he said, shifting his tone to the one that made her whole body alert and pliable, "Daddy is going to take care of his baby doll.  I want you to feel safe and get a good night’s rest so you can enjoy your visit tomorrow.  I'm going to tell you what you to do and you're going to obey.  Yes?"

"Yes," was the reply to his gentle prompt and he was filled with pride that there hadn't been any hesitation on her part.

He picked up his laptop with his free hand and moved from the table to the bed, glancing at the time to figure out where she might be in the house.

"It's almost 11, so you should be in your pajamas and heading to bed."

She wasn't quite sure if it was a question or not and chose to treat it as one, wanting to make it clear to him that she was fully willing to participate in this new avenue of their dynamic.

"Yes, I just got home from seeing the movie with Hallie and changed and was watching the news for a few minutes.  That's when I heard it."

Her voice was still shaky and the mention of the movie raised his suspicions.

"Did that monkey movie have creepy crawlies in it that bothered you?"

"It's not a monkey, it's an ape," she corrected him, as if he was a first grader in her classroom.  “Didn’t you learn anything at Cambridge?”  

She was being contrary in attempt to distract herself and these flashes of brattiness were also her way of testing him, of discovering how far she could go without consequences.  He was deciding how to respond when she rushed ahead.

"And yes, it did.  Big yucky ones," a shudder punctuating her words.  "And you weren't there for me to turn to."

It was said with honest distress, not with anger, and it temporarily made him put aside her previous comment.

"I'm sorry, Pop Tart.  I'm here now."

When she inquired if he wanted to switch to a video call, he declined. 

"No, I just want you to hear me.  Only my voice,” he answered, knowing that the statement would bring up specific recent memories for her.  She tried to stifle the half moan, half whimper in vain, the sound making it clear that his plan was working.

He talked her into the bedroom, asking a few questions about the evening, checking to make sure she had eaten dinner and done her stretches.  She had pulled back the fluffy comforter on their sleigh bed and was about to climb in when his next command made her freeze.  He waited a few moments before repeating it.

“Is something wrong?  Do you understand what I’ve said?”

“I understand, sir,” spoken so softly that he almost didn’t hear it.  It was a surprise, it was a first; and it delighted him to a degree that was just as surprising.  She’d never addressed him in that manner and he had never asked her about it. Something about this particular situation must have brought it out of her.  He immediately decided that pointing it out right then in the moment wouldn’t be helpful to her and filed it away to discuss later, briefly settling on the possible explanation that using the term was a sign that she was feeling safe, that she was trusting his guidance.

“That’s how you normally sleep.  I know it might be different because I’m not there and you may be worried about having to suddenly flee from the monsters in the wall, but I think it’s important that we try to make this as routine as possible in that way,” he calmly explained.

She murmured in agreement.  When her pajamas were on the chair by the closet and she was naked between the soft cotton sheets, he told her to put him on speaker and lay the phone on his empty pillow.

“Now,” he proceeded, low and steady, “I want you to raise your arms and place them up on either side of your head.”  

He waited until the rustling stopped and she was settled comfortably before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“Hands off, darling, unless I give permission.”

This time she didn’t even bother with attempting to hide her reaction.  The frustrated groan was the sound of victory to his keen ears, as was her increasing rapid breathing.  She had assumed that certain guided activities were sure to follow and his command made her painfully aware of how intense her physical reaction was to the situation.  

Then he began his assault.

She would always be rather baffled at how his voice had such an impact on her.  It was contradictory in a way when she contemplated the qualities that made it so unique: rough but smooth, arousing but soothing, spicy but sweet.  The sound itself was enough to make anyone swoon; coupled with the specific manner of his address, it was lethal.  He never rushed, never spoke carelessly; and when it came to his beloved poetry, he was an enthusiastic expert.

It flowed from his mouth with confidence, with authority, with a passion that she periodically teased him about.  A selection of his favorites from the treasures that time has produced, lines he had read over and over to the point that reading was unnecessary. Poems in Ancient Greek whose words she did not understand, but whose sounds left her in no doubt of the message. Shakespeare, Donne, Cowper, Burns, Byron, Shelley, Rossetti...

And while she knew he recited them and poured over them day after day and semester after semester in his classroom, this was different.  This was for her.  Solely for her.  And she heard them as she never had before, heard him as she never had before.  She felt his voice as though his hands were ghosting over her skin, felt it rise and fall and wash over her, felt it dip and turn as if it led her in a swirling giddy dance.  

But when the words became new to her, tears stung her eyes.  They were new, although the poetic voice was familiar.  It was him.  His words. His poems.  

About her.

Things that made her gasp, things that made her back arch off the bed, things that made her wish she had turned out the lights.

Now she had to grip at the pillow with desperate fingers to keep herself from disobeying him, her muscles tensing, her legs moving restlessly against the sheets that were no longer cool.  Or dry.

“Hands, Pop Tart,” he reminded her sharply, interrupting himself, her every exhale escalating to a steady, panting moan.  “Are they in the proper place?”

“Ye-yes, s-sir,” she managed to stutter out on a sob.

She was almost at the breaking point when he, mercifully, seemed to be finished.

“Still with me, darling?” he asked with a casual air that absolutely infuriated her, as if she weren’t a quivering, fevered mess driven to near madness by his voice.  Just his voice.

All she could muster was a pitiful sound that he interpreted as a “yes” and he relented.

For a moment.

“I’ve got one last selection for you,” he whispered. “I’ve saved it for last.  I think it will take your breath away.”

She shut her eyes in frustration, having no idea what could possibly be left to say, and was a second away from begging him to grant her freedom so she could end things.

But his voice stopped her.

“I am Sam.”

“Sam I am.”

The hilarious combination of that panty-melting voice with the Dr.Seuss classic she read so often to her first graders had her crying with laughter by the third page.  She was wheezing when he added a gleeful “The End.”

“You see, darling?  I told you it would take your breath away,” he informed her.  “And now you may reach for some tissues, dry your face, and burrow under the covers for a good night’s sleep.”

“That’s it? But, but…I…” she stumbled over the words, her shocked protests making him chuckle.

“Yes, I know.  Life is full of disappointments.  Or denials, in your case.”

He was enjoying this entirely too much; she wanted to grab the bloody phone and hurl it across the room.  Insufferable man!

“And yes, the Hands Off rule applies until I return home.  My hands get their turn first.”

He took advantage of her stunned silence and continued.

“Maybe next time when I ask you if you’ll be okay by yourself, you’ll think of this…lesson in delayed gratification and tell me the truth.”

“You are big meanie head!  And I renew my divorce request!” she cried in bewilderment.

“I love you, too, Pop Tart,” he cooed, “Goodnight.”

“I do not like you, Sam I am,” she grumbled and hit the End Call button with more force than was necessary.

The ding of a text alert arrived a few seconds later.

“I heard that. xoxo”

[ryanmeft]

Spider-Man: Homecoming Movie Review

All Marvel Studios really had to do with their new Spider-Man movie, after a rash of poorly received efforts from Sony, was to get it right. It didn't need to blow anyone's mind; it just needed to be Spider-Man. It is that. It also contains the best supporting cast in a Marvel movie to date, pitch-perfect comedic timing, a fantastic villain, and some genuine twists whether you've read Spider-Man for decades or couldn't tell a Doctor Octopus from a Doctor Robert.

No matter how good a superhero movie is, the part a reviewer always dreads is having to describe the origin story, but I'll give it m...wait, there's no origin story? No, there isn't. It's one of the many touches that make this iteration of the web-slinger fast and funny: it just assumes you already know about Peter Parker's famous origin, and only briefly mentions a bite from a spider in passing. Right to it then: the film begins eight years ago, as a private clean-up crew led by a man named Adrian Toomes (Michael Keaton) is getting set to cart away the remains of the alien battle from the Avengers, a job that is apparently a windfall (2017 minus 2012 equals five, not eight, but it's no big deal). He's stopped by an officious Tyne Daly, who informs him Tony Stark has created a thing called Damage Control to deal with this kind of stuff and that he's out of a job. Realizing he's already got some of that sweet, sweet alien tech sitting in his warehouse, he announces "World's changing, boys. Time we changed too."

Jump ahead eight years, and Peter Parker (Tom Holland) is an energetic, overconfident Spider-Man, getting on the nerves of his handler Happy Hogan (Jon Favreau) and begging his patron Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) for more important assignments than retrieving stolen bicycles and giving directions to old ladies. All of this builds from Captain America: Civil War, though Homecoming is a stand alone story that doesn't deal too directly with the fallout from that movie. Parker's no Avenger. Despite his comics pre-dating those of most of Marvel's characters, he's always been the kid in the room; the movie makes that official by having him be several decades younger than Iron Man or Cap. He's enthusiastic, naive, awkward, and yes, sometimes annoying, because a 15-year-old who is never annoying is like a unicorn. He acts before thinking (as when he heroically stops a man from stealing his own car), confronts crooks without considering the potential collateral damage, dismisses the advice of his mentors and treats it all like a game. He's bullied, too, though not as brutally or physically as in the comics, perhaps because that's a hot topic these days. If you give a put-upon kid a high tech suit that can actually talk to him, the power's likely going to go to his head. Holland gets both the man and the mask right: inside the suit he's a celebrity, outside of it he's too awkward to admit a crush.

He's up against a baddie who is a nice break from the usually larger-than-life villains of Marvel's movies. Toomes builds himself a suit of armor and set of mechanical wings that he can also operate independently of the suit, and becomes The Vulture, though this name is never stated. He doesn't want to rule anything; he simply wants to make a better life for his family and crew. To this end, he pulls off small-scale heists of alien tech, which his men turn into weapons for sale to ambitious crooks. Keaton is vital to the film. As Sam Raimi proved in his first two Spider-Man films,  the hero needs a good villain to be effective, someone who is fascinating even when not pulling off acrobatics. Keaton makes Toomes more of an antagonist that should get equal billing. He doesn't kill if he can help it, focuses on crimes that won't get him noticed, and isn't given to grandstanding. Keaton's key moments come late in the film, in which, like any smart super-baddie, he tries to get the hero on his side. Most of the time that goes something like this: "Join me and be totally evil and kill lots of people." Not tempting for most. Toomes's offer is more realistic: join me and get a slice. Donald Glover, in a small-but-effective role that is also a nerd nod, calls him a psychopath, but he doesn't seem like one.

Also vital is the strong supporting cast. I was of the opinion that this was a major weakness in the much-loved Wonder Woman film, and Spider-Man is the opposite of that. Instead of being defined entirely by a single character trait, Parker's classmates, teachers and family seem like real people living real lives. The students naturally get the most attention. Parker's crush Liz (Laura Harrier) is the serious leader of his Academic Decathalon team, while his classmate Michelle (Zendaya) is frankly more interesting, nerdy, aloof and abrasive in that way young, smart people are. It's frankly a major step forward for female roles in superhero movies that she is both a nerd and not the butt of jokes; she puts me in mind of Mae Whitman in the underrated film The Duff. Peter's best friend Ned (Jacob Batalan) is adorably nerdy, more so than Parker, and I'd like to note that no jokes are made at the expense of his size. Marisa Tomei is completely perfect as an updated Aunt May, and rather than shy away from the ridiculous nothingburger that was the controversy about her age, director Watts and his army of screenwriters emphasize it, as waiters and billionaires are not shy about flirting with her.

Other excellent roles that I just don't have the space to go into detail about (I'm so sorry, actor people) go to Tony Revolori, Garcelle Beauvais, Logan-Marshall Green, Bokeem Woodbine, Michael Chernus, Michael Mando, Jennifer Connelly, Kenneth Choi, Hannibal Buress, Angourie Rice and Martin Starr. This alone is a shock. I recall my dread at having to simply list every X-Men character every damn time, and here I am wishing I had space to devote to each of a dozen minor characters.

The film's more down-to-earth plot is reflected in action sequences that mostly feature Spider-Man squaring off against a single baddie, but the two that define the character are when he must try and keep the Staten Island Ferry from splitting in half due to his own arrogance, and the final showdown with the Vulture, which I dare not describe. The reason they're fighting in the first place may be a bit shaky, but that's par for the course. What matters is the last fight feels, like the one in the original Iron Man, true to each combatant. Their respective motivations don't change at the last minute, and neither behaves in ways that haven't been established as part of their personality. The conclusion, and even the obligatory mid-credits scene, reinforce this as one of the better rivalries in superhero flicks. I'll go ahead and toss in a disclaimer here: I'm a big Spider-Man fan for lots of reasons I won't be discussing here. I have enjoyed all of the movies, though unlike the first two, I haven't felt the need to see the last few more than once. I saw this one twice in one day, when I almost never see a movie twice, period. Your mileage, as they say, may vary, and if you loathe the webbed one this won't change your mind. It is absolutely a product of the MCU universe, and trades in the quirk of earlier films for a more grounded story that may not be to everyone's tastes. Those who longed for Edgar Wright to return to Ant-Man may be left cold. For most, though, I think they'll find Jon Watts and his mob of writers have made a true crowd-pleaser. That word gets thrown around a lot to define a movie that is basically sugar (all sweetness, no nutrition), a definition I personally reject. Homecoming may not be prime rib, but it's completely enjoyable the whole way through, sad and surprising at times, with both good guys and bad guys you want to see again. The day I feel the need to get sniffy about a movie like that is the day I ought to hang it up. And yes, that was a reference to Spider-Man's webs. Hey, I never denied my own nerddom. Verdict: Highly Recommended Note: I don’t use stars but here are my possible verdicts. I suppose you could consider each one as adding a star. Must-See Highly Recommended Recommended Average Not Recommended Avoid like the Plague You can follow Ryan's reviews on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/ryanmeftmovies/ Or his very infrequent tweets here: https://twitter.com/RyanmEft All images are property of the people what own the movie.