#walter too surprisingly

[cry-ptidd]

Hellsing characters as animals

Integra:

(Borzoi, snowy owl, secretary bird, lioness)

Alucard:

(Grœnendael, bearded vulture, emperor scorpion, Friesian horse)

Seras:

(Golden retriever, peregrine falcon, fennec fox, golden British shorthair)

Walter:

(Irish wolfhound, great blue heron, black-footed ferret, raven)

Anderson:

(Great Pyrenees, great horned owl, grizzly bear, white tiger)

Pip:

(Jack Russel terrier, ferruginous hawk, stoat, coyote)

[sybaritick]

Absolutely thrilled to have stumbled across your 1972 security council rp tag. Legitimately exciting to know someone is into such a thing! If it's not too strange / personal to ask, would you be able to elaborate on what that entails and what's appealing about that specific rp for you? I'm curious but I can't quite get my head around it

I love talking about this stuff, so thanks for asking! I'm aware it's very weird but I think the reasoning behind it is surprisingly normal (in terms of how kinks develop).

I've explained this to a few friends on Discord so I will use those screenshots to assist me in this presentation.

so the backdrop to all of this is that I love to play the bad guy. As a small child in play-pretend games I would want to be the villain. I liked to be "it" during tag. As long as it's within the confines of a game/everyone knows we're just playing, I just like to be scary :)

But with this particular kink, I'm pretty sure it comes from some particular affecting experiences I had as a young teenager. I wrote my first Hetalia fanfic when I was 12 and then was very involved in model UN starting at age ~14. (I was really competitive about it and ended up even getting to a national competition once in high school, lol).

as a pretty weird teenage girl (now trans man) lot of my first experiences having crushes, or having someone else have a crush on me, were at model UN events. It let me feel powerful (because I was good at it) and I realized that having others act like I was powerful and threatening (in this ultimately harmless LARP type situation) was really hot to me.

(many such stories...)

I loved playing the US diplomat when I got to because obviously you get to play evil puppetmaster world power so I would lean into that and have fun with it.

The period of history I connected to most in terms of US interventionism was the Nixon era, just because there were so many examples during that period of the US trying to control the rest of the world. I ended up reading some Kissinger biographies (Kissinger by Walter Isaacson and Nixon and Kissinger: Partners in Power by Robert Dallek) when I was 18-19 and it really just cemented my obsession with the incredible harm he was able to cause and just how much of an affect he had on US foreign policy.

I'm particularly interested in economic coercion/the IMF and World Bank as instruments of US hegemony. Actually...

but ofc it's not just the 1970s, I like fantastical modern scenarios too:

(removed my boyfriend's name, sure it's just a first name but do they really wanna be in this post)

so yeah! tl;dr: it's a power thing, I like it in a D/s way. I got some wires crossed in my brain and "I like when people act scared of me [sexual]" became associated with "I like when people act scared of me because they're aware of the rotten machine of US global hegemony that lurks behind my words [sexual apparently]"

[chaostheoryy]

Touch Me [Walter X GN!Reader]

Summary: You and Walter are currently the only two people awake on the colony ship headed for the outskirts of the galaxy. And while most people would find the company of a synthetic to be unsettling, you have come to realize you much prefer his presence over that of other humans. And perhaps you enjoy his company even more than you originally thought.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Making out, implied sexual thoughts

Reader: Gender Neutral

Word Count: 3.1K

Notes: I recently rewatched the entire Alien franchise and rediscovered my love for Walter. Because of course my dumbass feels connected to an autistic-coded character...There really isn't much plot here, just self-indulgence via smooching a big, wholesome android. And, as always, no beta. I die a warrior's death.

Living with a synthetic is easy. Like a faithful company android should, Walter has always done exactly what he’s supposed to when he’s supposed to. He never interrupts your work unless absolutely necessary and he doesn’t dare disturb your sleep unless following explicit instructions from you or MUTHUR to wake you in time to complete your tasks.

In addition to being an efficient and reliable worker, Walter has also proven himself to be a surprisingly pleasant companion. Conversation, it seems, comes naturally for him and his seemingly endless internal database of poetry and literature means he can recite any one of your favorite stories upon request. Though it’s strange to admit, there’s a pleasantness to his voice that makes every encounter with him comforting.

In fact, the more time you’ve spent together, the more you’ve come to realize just how much you truly find pleasant about him. The mesmerizing tint of his electric blue eyes. The imperfection of his crooked smile when you tell him your worst jokes. The gentleness of his touch despite the inhuman strength of his body. You know these are all things that were programmed into him by some random company engineer years ago, but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to him than a bunch of 0’s and 1’s. He’s not just a robot designed to serve man, he’s…Walter.

The stronger your connection feels over these first few weeks of travel, the bolder you get when it comes to exploring your affection for him. It starts with accidental brushes of the hand against his arm or a gentle press of your palm between his shoulder blades when you squeeze behind him in a tight corridor. Fleeting touches that can easily be written off as necessary interactions given the nature of your environment. He, of course, doesn’t seem to mind at all. Every time it happens, he responds to your apology or “excuse me” with a courteous little grin and a brief utterance of reassurance.

On a particularly bad day, when nothing seems to go right and the loneliness of space grips at your heart, you ask for his comfort and he obliges. His hand rests on your shoulder until it simply isn’t enough and you ask him to hold you. No request is too much for Walter, so sure enough you find yourself wrapped in his arms with your head resting on his chest. Even despite his lack of fleshy internal organs, you find he’s just as warm as any human would be. And when he murmurs soothing words in your ear, you realize that no human could possibly comfort you the way he can.

“Walter?”

“Yes?"

“Hugging you like this,” you murmur quietly into his charcoal sweatshirt, “Does it feel good for you?”

“If you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy embracing you, yes. I find it quite satisfactory.”

“Good.”

“Is this embrace satisfying for you?”

“Very."

“I’m glad.”

To your surprise, the hand that had come to rest in the center of your back begins to move in slow circles. When you shift beneath his touch, the movement ceases.

“Apologies,” he says as he abruptly steps away. The loss of contact leaves your body yearning for the comfort.

“No need to apologize, Walter. It’s fine, really. I…” You hesitate for a moment. “It felt nice.”

You stare each other down, both of you searching for answers to questions neither of you have asked. You know it’s probably just your mind playing tricks on you, but it seems as though he looks nervous. Then again, hard not to notice an aura of uncertainty coming from a presence that is usually nothing but certain.

“Have you ever touched someone like that before now?” You ask.

“No. I’m afraid it was never the company’s intention for synthetics such as myself to engage in intimate contact.”

You try to stow away some of the sheer sadness you feel knowing what he’s said is undoubtedly true. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because that doesn’t seem fair. Being surrounded by people your whole life and knowing that none of them will ever hold you. Knowing that the people who created you never even wanted you to be held.”

“Fair or not, it is simply a part of my programming.”

You frown. It frustrates you to no end. No matter how many times he or the little voice in the back of your head tells you that he is simply an android following his programming, you want to argue that there’s more to it than that. That he genuinely exists and deserves to live.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“In regard to what exactly?”

“Touch. Don’t you ever wonder what it’d be like to truly be touched? To be held and caressed and cared for by someone else?”

“It is something I have pondered over from time to time, sure.”

Your heart is racing in your chest as you consider your words. It’s crazy, you know it is, but you can’t help yourself. “Would you like me to touch you?”

Walter’s head tilts to the left ever so slightly, much like a dog who’s heard his owner utter the name of his favorite toy in casual conversation. Those dazzling blue eyes blink a couple of times as he considers your question.

“Yes, I believe I would.”

An inaudible sigh of relief slips from your throat. You nod, more to yourself than to Walter, and step forward to close the distance between you. He doesn’t move in the slightest, just stands there and watches your every move with the scrutiny of a scientist at work.

You start by taking his right hand. Pulling it from his side, you raise it up into the space between your bodies. Your right thumb traces over his knuckles while your left hand gently pushes the sleeve of his sweatshirt up toward his elbow. Just like any human you’ve ever met, there are delicate hairs all along his forearm that jump back into place as the fabric of his sleeve slides past.

After watching those little hairs shift around exploratory strokes of your hand along the backside of his arm, you turn it over and trace the now exposed lines of his palm. You feel like those storied fortune tellers of old Earth who search for hidden meanings in the imperfections of a person’s skin. But instead of seeking out some clue to the distant future, it’s as if you’re seeking the very essence of humanity in Walter’s palm.

“You have a soft touch,” he notes as you ghost your fingertips over the almost velvety surface of his inner wrist.

Your eyes flick up to his face to find him still watching you with a nearly unreadable expression. “Does that bother you?”

“Not at all.”

Reassured by his response, you can’t help the tiny grin that pulls at the corner of your mouth. And as unbelievable as it sounds, Walter’s gaze seems soften at the sight of your smile.

Suddenly feeling as if you’ve been caught witnessing something you were never supposed to see, you hastily draw your focus away from his face and back down to the hand in your grasp. Your fingers trace the lines on his palm a few more times before you curl his fingers inward one by one. When every single digit has been bent into the familiar shape of a fist, you rotate his arm once again and bend his wrist back. Then, with painstaking patience that could drive a man insane, you slowly unravel his fingers with your own until your palms are flush against one another.

“Like Dürer’s Praying Hands.”

Sparing a glance upward once again, you see him gazing at your pressed hands with a nearly awestruck look in his eyes. The way he appears mesmerized by the very sight of this contact, you’d think he’s staring at the aforementioned German artwork itself.

You elect not to say anything, choosing instead to spread his fingers apart with your own. Once they’re fully splayed out, you slip your fingers in between those outstretched digits and tenderly grasp his hand. For the briefest moment, his fingers remain fully erect as if every joint in his hand is locked in place. But, like the sun setting upon its earthly horizon, they soon slowly fold downward until your hands are delicately intertwined.

There’s a tangible silence in the room as you both gaze upon your interlocked hands. The only sounds you can make out around you are the distant beeps of some far off console and the soft exhale of your own breath. And when Walter’s eyes shift from your hands to your face, that breath only grows heavier. He looks curious, anticipatory.

“I think I’m beginning to understand why humans hold hands as a gesture of affection.”

Your brow raises instinctively. “You like it?”

“It’s pleasant.”

“Would you be willing to let me touch your face?”

He blinks, seemingly processing the inquiry. Then he replies, “Of course.”

Using your free hand, you reach up and gently cup your palm along his jaw. As usual, he doesn’t even flinch at the new touch. He just keeps his eyes locked on you while you explore the new frontier that is his visage.

At first, you examine his face like a parent searching their child for minor cuts and bruises after an afternoon of rough housing in the backyard. It’s gentle, yet full of meticulous observation. Intimate in a way only familial touch can be.

But after a while, you become familiar with the feeling of his skin and allow yourself to truly caress the face before you. Fingertips press into the most delicate patches of skin at the back of the jaw. Your thumb tenderly rubs his cheekbone as the butt of your palm teeters at the edge of his mouth. It’s not your intention to feel his lips just yet but it can’t be helped when your skin brushes past them. And just like a human’s lips would be, they are tantalizingly supple against your skin.

Goosebumps crawl up your forearm when you feel his breath tickle the inside of your wrist. Witnessing him breathe is one of those things that never ceases to fascinate you or quell your incessant desire to prove Walter is more than just some carbon copy synthetic. What need would an artificial person have to breathe if they were simply meant to be servants for mankind? Why make them so incredibly real if they aren’t supposed to live a real life? Why strive to recreate the inherently flawed design of the human body if they aren’t meant to be human?

“Is everything alright?”

Walter’s voice draws you out of your thoughts so violently that he may as well have shoved you out of the airlock. You blink yourself back to consciousness and are startled to find your thumb resting at the edge of his top lip, your hand still cupped along the sharp line of his jaw. His breath continues to tickle your wrist with every exhale.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer as you reposition your hand away from his mouth, “Everything’s fine.”

“You’re displaying early symptoms of common influenza,” he counters matter-of-factly, eyes piercing right through the shield of your lie. “Your heart rate is elevated and your body temperature has increased by half a degree.”

Your body temperature may have only risen by a fraction of a degree but it may as well be several dozen considering the sheer heat scalding your cheeks. The thudding of your heartbeat has become incessantly loud and your breath nearly gets trapped in your throat.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt as you pull yourself alway from him.

His brow immediately furrows with confusion. And if you dared to study his expression any longer, you may find the look on his face hints at disappointment.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand why you’re apologizing. You’ve done nothing wrong. If you are unwell, I would be happy to tend to you in the medical bay.”

“No!” The urgency in your voice catches you off guard. You swallow the lump in your throat, hoping it will take some of the embarrassment down with it. “Thank you. But, I’m not sick, Walter, I promise. I’m just…Nervous.”

His head tilts again. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re actively staving off immense shame for your handling of the whole situation, you might actually be able to acknowledge just how endearing you find that little tick of his.

“May I ask why you are nervous?”

A breathy chuckle escapes the confines of your throat. A nervous laugh that you had no intention of letting out. Walter appears even more puzzled by the reaction.

“I’m nervous because I’m touching you,” you admit, “Because touching you is something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time now. And because now that I’ve done so, I want to keep doing it.”

“Then why did you stop?"

It’s a question you weren’t expecting. But, of course Walter would be the one to bypass formalities and outright ask the hard questions.

“Because I feel guilty.”

“Guilt would imply that you’ve committed an offense or violation.”

“Running my hands over your body and caressing your face like you’re my lover sure as hell feels like a violation,” you argue.

Despite your tone growing erratic, he remains as stoic as ever. “I guarantee you, it isn’t. You asked for permission and I granted it.”

To your utter surprise, he reaches out and gently grabs you by the wrist. Despite your astonishment at his decision to reinitiate the contact, you don’t argue or pull away when he guides your hand back up to his face. Deep down you know this is the outcome you truly want, even if it’s one you never imagined you could have.

“Feel no guilt,” he says as your hand comes to its resting place along his jaw, “I want you to touch me.”

Your heart skips a beat at those words. It’s a statement that makes your mind race faster than any engine in the universe. Sexual innuendos and Freudian subconscious aside, the significance of his declaration isn’t lost on you. He isn’t just standing there, letting you explore his visage like some statue being admired by museum patrons. He’s now an active participant driven by his own desire to be caressed. To be caressed by you.

The mere notion of him wanting this is enough to conquer most of your hesitancy. Swallowing whatever fear remains, you bring your other hand up so that you’re cupping his face between them both. Your thumbs stroke at his cheekbones.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” His voice is soft, restrained. He knows it’s dangerous to spook an already anxious animal.

You dwell on his words for a moment. His eyes, sharp and disarming as always, seem to peer right through your orbital cavity and into your brain itself. If he looks hard enough, he may very well discover the thoughts that are tucked away inside your mind without you even needing to put them into words.

Before you can convince yourself not to, you say, “You’re beautiful.”

He blinks. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting that.

“The color of your eyes. The shape of your lips. The strength of your jaw.” You all but sigh as you trace the line of his jawbone with your middle finger. “I admire everything about you.”

“And what about the fact that I’m not actually human? Do you find that unsettling?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Why is that?”

You nearly scoff at the question. “Because you could introduce me to a hundred strangers on Earth and I can almost guarantee you that you’re more human than most of them. You have shown me more kindness and empathy than half the people I’ve met in my lifetime.” You slide one hand down to his chest, splaying your fingers out over the spot where his heart should sit. “It doesn’t matter what parts you have or what fluid flows through your veins. I still care for you, Walter.”

In a way, you feel exposed. You never fully considered just how deeply you feel for him. Though, the more you think about it, the more you realize that it shouldn’t be much of a shock at all.

“I would like to kiss you.”

Now there’s a shocking statement.

“What?” You stare at him in awe, unsure that you heard him correctly.

“I said that I would like to kiss you,” he states, “If you find such contact to be agreeable, of course.”

Words are unattainable for you in that moment so you settle for a nod.

He leans in and kisses you softly. He’s so careful, so unbearably gentle that it feels like his lips simply ghost over yours. It isn’t unpleasant, of course. It’s simply too delicate. The whole thing is over before your brain can even process what’s happening. It leaves you yearning for more.

When he pulls back to look at you, he can see the dissatisfaction painted on your face. “Did I do it incorrectly?”

“It wasn’t…wrong. It was just very quick. And much softer than I was expecting.”

“I see.” He thinks for a moment before adding, “Would you like to do it again your way?”

“You want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His eyes instinctively lock on your mouth to watch as your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. “Okay.”

You reposition your right hand from his chest to the side of his neck and pull him back toward you. When you kiss him, you do so with passion. Your lips find his like a drowning man resurfacing for air after being jostled by the sea. Not violent, but desperate, as if Walter’s kiss could save your life in the cold vacuum of space.

He may not know what he’s doing, but what he’s doing is right. When your tongue presses against his lip, he opens his mouth to welcome it. When you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, he shifts just enough to make it deeper. When your nails dig into his skin to drag him closer, his hands find shelter upon your waist to steady himself. He may be a synthetic by design, but it’s clear from the way he kisses that he is human by nature.

You’re nearly gasping by the time you break the kiss. The breathless wonder of a good kiss is a feeling you have sorely missed and, judging by the blissful look in Walter’s eyes, it seems he’s just experienced something similar for the very first time.

“I have to admit, I prefer your method,” he muses as a tiny grin pricks at the corner of his mouth.

You can’t help but return that grin with a big smile of your own. Your thumb grazes across his bottom lip. “Well, good news: you and I have a lot of time to explore more methods, if you want.”

“I fear there isn’t anything you could offer that I wouldn’t want now.”

[holylulusworld]

Wolfishly (2)

Summary: Omega meets alpha. What now?

Pairing: Alpha!Walter Marshall x Omega!Reader

Warning: possessive Walter, a/b/o, scenting, light smut, implied smut, needy reader/needy Walter, knotting, talk about claiming

A/N: A little drabble.

Catch up here: Wolfishly

Walter guided you toward his car, buckled you up, and whispered your name before he got behind the steering wheel. He inhaled your scent deeply and glanced at you in the passenger seat.

The alpha furrowed his brows in a silent question, waiting for you to change your mind, and leave his car.

You shook your head and dug your fingertips into your thighs. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you felt like your lower half took control of your mind.

This was so unlike you. Always playing on the safe side you never take a risk. Until you met Walter, the alpha swooping you off of your feet.

Against better knowing, you followed the alpha home. He didn’t let you out of sight or drop his arm from around your shoulders. Walter possessively snarled in his neighbor’s direction when the poor man dared to look your way.

Walter only stepped away from you to unlock his door, and let you in. He helped you out of your coat and dropped it carelessly to the ground. The moment he stepped over your coat, you were in his arms, and his lips were on yours.

He greedily explored your mouth while his strong hands hoisted you up and helped you wrap your legs around his waistline. You whined and started to grind against him.

It was the first time you let your body and instinct take over. Somehow you knew Walter wasn’t going to hurt you.

He took his time, exploring your body he stripped you bare with his skilled hands. For a man his size, he was surprisingly gentle, and careful. He prepared you to take his knot, skilled fingers working you open.

Both of you were needy and desperate to feel each other, you ended up on his bed in a matter of seconds. You climbed on top of him, taking control. Walter helped you raise your hips to sink on his massive cock.

He laid back, watching you rock your hips to climb higher and higher until you fell hard. You lay on his chest, still rocking your hips.

Walter struggled to stop his knot from popping open. He tried to get you off him, but the moment he wanted to pull out you clawed at him.

You bit his shoulder, and growled his name, desperate to keep him inside of your body. He fell back onto the mattress, giving up. He had no other choice but to cum inside of you, and let his knot swell deep within you.

Exhausted and satisfied you fell on his chest, panting heavily, while Walter tried to fathom that he came inside of you, a woman he barely knew.

“That was…unexpected,” he said. “You’re a demanding little omega.”

You snuggled into his chest, ignoring that you just had unprotected sex with an alpha you didn’t even know. “I wanted your knot,” you said, and nothing else. “You promised it to me.”

“You got it,” Walter said, voice deep and raspy. “Next time, I’ll mark this pretty neck. I cannot risk losing you to some other alpha. You’re meant to be mine.”

“No obligations on my side,” you purred happily and patted his arm. “If you do it right next time, you can knot me again too.”

He laughed loudly. “I got me a cocky omega.” His hand crept to your ass and groped your globe. “I will tame you, though. Only a little of course. I like you are a little firecracker…”

Tags in reblog.

[veronicawildest]

SHORT VEDIC ASTRO

Btw, If you are offended by my posts or anything I write, feel free to block me or whatever. Just don't argue in the comments, Ok?

I converted the kundli of some politicians (Mostly among them presidents) And the patterns that came out were overwhelmingly Mars rashi and/or nakshatra.

Claire Nakti isn't joking when she said that Mars nakshatra are often into politics. (she said it at the Mars dominant men video)

(Disclaimer: The ascendant are from Astro-seek and the other ones are from Astro(dot)com birth time verification)

• John Adams (Former President of U.S) - Ashwini moon, Rahu and Mars in 1st house of Chitra nakshatra

• Joe Biden (As of writing this, Current President of U.S) - Anuradha sun , Ashwini moon and Anuradha rising

• James Buchanan (Former President of U.S) - Ashwini sun with Mars and Ketu

•George Herbert Walker Bush (Former President) - Mrigashira sun, Chitra moon

• George Walker Bush (Former President) - Chitra moon

•Barack Obama (Former President) - Dhanista rising

•Donald Trump (Former and Candidate for President) - Mrigashira sun, Jyestha moon

•Kamala Harris (Vice President and Currently Running for President) - Chitra sun, Ashwini moon with Mrigashira rising

•Ronald Reagan (Former President) - Dhanista sun, Bharani moon

•Droupadi Murmu (Current President of India) - Mrigashira sun

• Frank Walter Steinmeier (Current President of Germany) - Chitra moon

• Leni Robredo (Former Vice President of Philippines) - Ashwini sun

• BongBong Marcos ( Current President of Philippines) - Ashwini moon

• Joko Widodo (Current President of Indonesia) - Mrigashira sun

• Benigno Aquino lll ( Former President of Philippines) - Dhanista sun, Mrigashira moon, Ashwini rising

• Napoleon Bonaparte ( French General and Emperor) - Chitra rising

Final note: the sun nakshatra were prominent too in other politicians (it's either in their moon or sun) and surprisingly, Sidereal Sagittarius Rashi (doesn't matter the nakshatra)

[eganmont]

Dagger: "Hey don't you think some of Vivi's children feel... eerily familiar?"

Zidane: "... Nah it's probably fine."

I've seen the concept of Vivi being a Black Waltz, but what if the Waltz were Vivi-fied?

*Ahem*, excuse me while I briefly obsess over an AU for minor characters who only show up like once from a 20+ year old game:

So anyhoo, I present an FF9 epilogue AU where Vivi accidently and unknowingly reincarnated the Black Waltz alongside his other sons. Assuming that Vivi used traces of mist to make his kiddos, I suppose it could be possible for the Waltzes' mist/souls be recycled back into life again by the same method. Made more likely by the fact they all originally perished during a time when Gaia's souls weren't properly passing on... (Hopefully I'm understanding ff9 lore right)

Neither of the 3 can fully remember their past lives, though they still subconsciously retain their memories. It's enough to influence their personalities, but you know, since they are no longer living weapons their violent tendencies get toned-down a lot and they properly get the chance to develop morals and stuff. At worst they probably just act like typical spoiled brats or trouble makers. I'd think they surprisingly get along well with Zidane too.

They're unofficially known as the Encore Trio, and get actual names now, from left to right: Waldren, Walter, and Wallace.

(The names just sort of came natural to them, I wonder why lol)

I can't help but feel the original trio deserved so much better, and couldn't pass up the idea of them getting a second-chance to live life and pursue non-evil and non-princess capturing related interests.

And despite what had happened in the past, I'd think Vivi would be happy for them too…

Ok ramble over for now!

[milkydraws8]

The Public Defenders, an informal group of New York businesses that look out for the little guy

Matthew 'Matt' Murdock of Nelson and Murdock, a struggling small-time legal firm. Beloved and broke for his near-suicidal opposition to the various mobs and penchant for hopeless pro-bono work. Outspoken against the so-called 'Devil of Hell's Kitchen'.

Daniel 'Danny' Rand, ex-boy millionaire back from the dead. Claims to have trained with mystical monks in an ancient magical temple. Lost his legacy to his father's company, doesn't seem to care. Has a killer right hook.

Lucas 'Luke' Cage, ex-con and almost-murdered inmate at Seagate Penitentiary. Got a new lease on life and an old lease on a barbershop. Never been much of a leader but apparently he's kinda good at it. Currently the biggest pain in the ass for Harlem's criminal underworld. Has pretty thick skin.

Jessica Jones. Not sure what she's doing. Obviously a lot less of a hard-ass than she tries to present herself as. Surprisingly good at soft-skills. Can hold her liquor.

Jennifer Walters. Loudest one in the room. Pretty sensational, almost greasy lawyer. Never does anything egregiously against the law. Actually could be doing a lot worse, although she could be doing a lot better. Having way too much fun to change. Has a famous cousin.

Mercedes "Misty" Knight. About this 🤏 close from losing her badge and gun. About this close 👌 from losing her arm. Got a mechanical replacement, luckily.

[alexiswritingstuff]

Just wanted to let you know that I've been binge reading all of your writings and I love them so much, keep up the good work! :)

I know you might have a lot of Gus requests, so it's okay if you put this one on the back burner for a bit. But I read the "Not So Scary After All" work and I was wondering if you could write a sort of sequel to it?

Maybe Jesse keeps trying to tell GN reader how obvious it is that he likes them. How he's seen him try not to smile when talking to reader, the softer tone of voice, things like that.

Reader obviously doesn't believe him and thinks that Gus is just being nice to his employees, especially the ones that are responsible for the cooks.

Anyways, after a few days of Jesse pestering the reader about it something happens to make them realize he might be right. I was thinking maybe they would make another mistake with the cook and Walter is there to see it. Maybe he gets mad, a little TOO mad, and Gus walks in 🤭 Or anything else works too! I just love the premise of a protective Gus that doesn't like to show how protective he actually is

First of all, thank you for the comment about my writings, I'm glad you have enjoyed them so far! Initially I didn't think about writing a part two, so I hope this does it justice, as well as that I hope it was what you were looking for!

Thank you for sending this in!

Not so scary after all. 2/2

Pairing: Gustavo x gender neutral reader.

Other appearances: Jesse Pinkman, Walter White.

Warnings: arguing, walter being a douche.

also be aware of spelling mistakes, or other errors. I do read these over but I can tend to miss stuff either way!

A/N: my brain has been fixated on other characters recently, so if these guys seem ooc then that may be why. It's hard to write scenes where gustavo is interested in another person because we barely get to see that in either show, so I also hope my portrayal of him just generally feels correct.

I hope you enjoy!

more Gustavo fics.

Taglist- @sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana

previous part.

It never mattered how many times you had gone through the same routine. Surprisingly, considering your line of work, waking up in the morning was always the most jarring part. 

You could’ve had a great nights sleep, not woken up at any point, had no distractions or noisy neighbours. Yet the second you were in that car to get to the laundromat, it was like you had to force your eyes to stay open. 

Which was apparently the same for Jesse too as there was a series of mumbles and grumbles that would fill the car every few seconds. 

Each time you spared a glance to the passenger seat he would be leant further and further into window, his head bobbing whenever there was a difference in ground level or direction of the wheels. 

It had you amused, but also a little concerned, “Did you wake up too early, or too late?”

Seeking no comfort from the hardness of the glass, and after his temple ended up smacking right into it, Jesse got himself to sit upright in a speed that closely resembled one of those stairlifts. 

He groaned, having to make consistent attempts to keep his body from just slumping all together, “Both?” His hands raised to his head, the sides of his fingers beginning to rub at his eyes as if it would rid them of their tiredness.

In all honesty, outside of the cooking sessions and other shenanigans you found yourself in, you and Jesse never really... hung out. There would be times where you had lunch together, or had to show up to his house if there was something to drop off.

But that was mostly it.

And there wasn’t exactly a reason as to why. You had absolutely nothing against Pinkman, it was like the opposite. The more you spent time with him, the more you felt like some kind of guardian watching over some kid. Even if he also was an adult.

“You had breakfast, though, right?” Your gaze was trained on the lane ahead despite your ongoing conversation.

You had just turned onto a state road, meaning that, regardless of it being early in the morning, people were up and about. Trying to get to their jobs.

It always made it seem busier than it was.

At first, in response to your question, Jesse simply emitted another mumble of something. He was thinking, the intensity in which he rubbed at his eyes increasing for a moment, and then his hands dropped. “Oh,”

“Shit, I don’t... I don’t know.”

You supressed the urge to sigh. It had already happened a few times. Depending on what he did the night before, there would be some mornings where his mind was rattled enough that he would almost forget where he even was, so.

You came prepared. 

“Well, I guess luck is on your side today.” you commented, flexing your fingers against the grips of the steering wheel, “There should be a sandwich or something in the back.”

By now Jesse’s head was leaning into the headrest, definitely having the same problem of trying to keep his eyes open like you did. The heat outside probably wasn’t a helpful factor either. “Seriously?”

You didn’t want to take your attention off of the road. The cars in front were starting to slow, and you needed to keep note of the distance from the ones at the back. “Check.” you told him, adjusting the rear view mirror for better visibility.

Jesse sort of rolled his head to the side after a moment, his chin almost knocking into the bone of his shoulder as his gaze cast onto the few items that were in the back seats.

He lazily blinked for a good few seconds, his eyes trying to adjust to the redirection of a sunlight beam. And then he saw it. Right in the middle.

A brown bag.

“No way.”

The next move he made was so fast that the seatbelt strapped around him had immediately stalled against his body, attempting to keep him in place at the assumption of sudden danger.

But that wasn’t enough to stop him at all. 

He pushed against it once, then twice, and then one more time before simply manoeuvring himself around the belt so that the top half would basically be protecting the car seat instead of him. 

When Jesse leaned himself between your seat and his, it was so much harder to keep your attention on the road. He was reaching out, arm extended as far as it could go and waving almost madly, until eventually, he grabbed the bag.

Jesse practically had to shove himself backwards to sit upright again, but soon he was able to resume his previous position with a big sigh of relief. Your head could only shake. 

Now, there was this sound a rustling paper that filled the entire car as you moved onto the accompanying lane. Something that was definitely not supporting your concentration. “Damn.”

His voice was muffled, the noises coming out of his mouth barely even sounding like a word which in turn made you send him a look.

He had finally gotten to the sandwich. “You make this?”

“Nah, I had too many errands to run.” you informed with a slight sigh, finally beginning to let yourself relax in your seat, “Would’ve done it if I had the time, but I think that is better anyway.”

Jesse didn’t even have to speak for you to know his response. He had taken another bite, nodding his head just slightly in proper approval. If his eyes were closed it would look like he was in pure bliss.

After relentlessly chewing for a hot minute, he attempted to swallow it down, “I didn’t-- I didn’t take you as an early riser.” Yet his voice was still almost unintelligible.

“Well, believe it or not, other people are in fact active in the mornings.” you pointed out, slightly leaning to the side for further emphasis on who the comment was aimed at in a way that had Jesse rolling his eyes. 

You swear you saw a clump of crumbs fly from his mouth when he next spoke, “Yeah, yeah-- You sure your too many errands wasn’t just you making sure that you looked good for a certain Fring?”

Your head snapped in his direction in a way that had looking back to the road immediately after, and probably almost gave you whiplash. But you saw it either way.

That damn grin had taken over his lips.

Again. 

“Please don’t do this right now.”

Jesse had to clear his throat to stop himself from almost choking, “Aw come on, man, it’s-- There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you did.” Your head shook like it had done before, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It was always so stupid to you how the indirect mention of someone made your body react the way it did. You were only trying to get to work, yet your heart was acting as if you had just gone for a run. 

“But I do.” The look you sent Jesse almost had him wanting to put his hands up if he wasn’t so focused on his sandwich, “What? I do-- Look, I may not have that much experience, or whatever, but there is totally something going on.”

“Definitely on his end at least.” He moved the sandwich around in his hands, trying to locate the best part to bite as he had finally swallowed the last one, “I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve seen him give you the look.”

Your eyebrows furrowed within seconds, “The... The what now?” You tried to turn in his direction for confirmation, but he seemed a bit too busy to notice your movement.

Due to a junction being up ahead, your foot had moved onto the foot break, watching the lights fully change the closer you drew.

“The look.” Jesse finally repeated, his mouth full all over again in a way that needed real concentration to understand the words coming out of it, “Yeah, he gives you the look, like, all the time.”

Soon, the car in front of you had fully stopped, and then so did yours as you put it into first gear, keeping your feet on the first two pedals.

The moment the car had stopped moving, you turned to Jesse within seconds, eyebrows furrowed more than they had ever been. “What is the look?”

Pinkman gave you a simple glance at first, thinking that you were just messing around as he kept munching away... But no matter how much time went by, you didn't move. Still watching him.

His chewing slowed when his head turned back in your direction. He just blinked for a moment. “You don’t know... You don’t know what the look is?”

Your chin lowered, your eyelids slightly doing the same, “Does it sound like I know what it is?”

“Okay, but... how?” Despite Jesse’s previous complete interest in his sandwich, it lowered with his hands to his lap. There was utter confusion written all over his face while he remained smacking away. “How do you not-- How old are you?”

Your attention went to the road ahead all over again, the back of your head sinking into the headrest as a huff left your lips, “Older than you.” you pointed out, trying to sound more authoritative, but that just seemed to spark an already lit flame. 

“Then how do you not see it, huh? I mean, even I can tell that it’s pretty obvious-- And not just because of the look either,” Jesse fully twisted in his seat so that he faced you, “He like... He wants to actually, like, talk to you, and shit-- I’ve seen him smile-- genuinely smile at you, okay?"

“Now, if he was doing it to me? I would... Man, I would be terrified-- But it’s you, it’s... different.” You were trying so hard not to shake your head again, but Jesse’s voice practically being right in your right ear was making it a lot more difficult. “It’s something else--”

“It’s not...” You regripped the steering wheel, “You do realise we’re talking Gustavo Fring, right?” Your head attempted to turn back to Jesse, though your eyes were trying to keep the attention on the road as one of the final vehicles seemed to cross through the junction. 

“Exactly!” Jesse practically threw his arms up, almost losing his grasp on the sandwich in the process, “You should be caring about this more than you do.”

Your head shook as your gaze fully went back to the road, your foot readying to release the clutch while your fingers tapped against the steering wheel in anticipation. 

You were trying to find something to zone in on, something to distract yourself from the kid sitting in your passenger seat as he was still eagerly trying to get you to see the things the way he did. But you weren’t giving it to him. 

“Fine then.” Jesse reached behind him, grabbing the top half of the seatbelt, pulling it until it was in front of him again, before he ducked himself beneath. 

“But I’m telling you, Y/n.” It was back, slinging diagonally across his torso by the time he was seated properly, and also by the time the lights had finally turned green.

“You’ll see.”

~

There was something about this day that was starting to feel a little familiar. 

You and Jesse had arrived ages ago. You had gone down the windy red stairs, did the whole thing of taking off unnecessary clothing so that you wouldn’t completely boil in the obnoxiously yellow protective suit you would put on next. 

And at first, once you were all geared up, the two of you stood in front of the machines. Your heads were raised, eyes cast up to the walkway above as you awaited the arrival of your usual partner at their usual time...

But the door never opened. 

There was no proper estimate for how long the two of you just stayed waiting as you had set your watch to the side, and the clock was on the other side of the room, however, there was one thing you knew for sure. Someone was late. 

Eventually, the two of you were trying to compensate, finding something useful to do while giving the benefit of the doubt that maybe it was just tough traffic or something going on that made them lose track of time.

Though, the ability to sympathise got smaller and smaller the more minutes began to turn into full on hours. 

You found yourself at your usual table with your hand supporting the weight of your head, attempting to occupy your mind by looking over the paperwork from passed cooks. A habit that you only recently developed. 

“Dude,” you heard somewhere to your side before there was an exasperated sigh, and a quick creaking of a chair, “What the hell is taking him so long?”

Earlier, Jesse had taken one of the other wheeled chairs from the table connected to yours and had rolled somewhere, enough so that you could only see him from the corner of your eye.

His body was slumped back, the seat beneath him creaking with every move that he made. And considering that he didn’t have anything to do, that was like every. Single. Second. 

He had tried out the difference created when he would shift his weight, tested what it would feel like to have his legs hanging over the left side of the chair and then the right, he had pushed his feet onto the floor to roll himself backwards and forwards against the smooth tiles.

And now, as apparently none of that had seemed to have settle his mind, Jesse had resorted to zipping and unzipping the protective suit he was so ready to take off by now. Over, and over... And over again. “Okay,”

“That’s it.”

The pencil held in your gasp was cast to the side of the notepad, you were barely looking at this point, before your hands moved to the edge of the table so that you could push against it enough that your chair started to roll.

You stood up, winding round the seat that was still on the move as you began to walk towards one of the pathways between the machines. Jesse fully planted his feet on the ground, “Yo, Y/n, where are you going?” 

Your fingers grasped onto the zip of your suit and you yanked it down as far as you could without having to bend for the rest, beginning to pulling your arms out one after the other moments after. 

You moved round that damn settling tank and soon ended up at the wall where you would keep or hang up your loose items. “I...” you began, your voice becoming strained as you bent down to free your feet of those big welly boots, “am going to find out what the hell is going on.”

The squeak of a chair echoed somewhere to the back of the room. “Well, don’t-- Don’t leave me in here by myself.” 

Finally, after one last tussle, your, once worn, protective suit was now sprawled on the ground beside the clothing rack. You moved to your usual shoes, putting either feet in their respective ware before tying the laces to make sure they wouldn’t fall off. 

Before Jesse could even appear by your side to complete the same process, you were on the move once again, directing towards those windy red stairs that always made you feel like you were going to fall up and/or down them. 

“Y/n, wait, dude, wait-- Just give me a minute.” You could hear the hurried rustling of plastic suit echoing through the steps you took on the metal staircase. 

Eventually, when your movements had allowed you to arrive at the cat walk, you found yourself complying to Jesse’s words... While the man himself was still trying, and failing, to get the suit off. 

It gave you a moment to catch a breath you hadn’t been able to take all day. You were stood high, looking down at the problems below, and not drowning neck deep in it like you usually did. 

A deep breath sucked into your nostrils as you let your eyes fall closed, the air of the lab starting to cool the warmth that had festered across your skin--

A sharp whistle squealed through from your left before it bounced around each wall one after the other. 

Your eyes had snapped open as soon as the sound appeared, but it wasn’t until your head had started to turn that your brain realised what it had come from. 

It was the door.

Your body twisted in the direction of the man who was almost stumbling across the cat walk, a series of huffs and puffs spluttering from his mouth that would have you worrying any other day. 

But as of now, all you did was cross your arms over your chest.

“Yo, Mr. White! What the hell took you so long, dude?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he began through a slight wheeze that ended with him doing this horrendous cough. And once he was about three steps in front of you, he stilled his apparently over exhausted body, using a hand to shift his weight onto the railing, “There was... car trouble, and stuff with the kids, you-- you know kids.”

“You would think, maybe, after the first one that it was going to get easier and then...”

In the midst of Mr. White stabilising himself, his head had turned to the right in at attempt to locate Jesse, which wasn’t hard to do considering the fact that he was still taking off that damn suit, to further emphasis his... guilt?

But instead, after he did a sort of double take, he began to slowly face you once again, “Why aren’t any of the machines on, why... Why aren’t you wearing your suit?”

“We were waiting for you. I was just about to try and find at least someone to tell us where you were.”

“Wait... Wait a minute,” Mr. White started, holding his hands up while he took a step closer. “You didn’t start?” His chin slightly lowered in a way that made his eyes peer at you over his glasses. 

“No?” you stated simply, your eyebrows furrowing at the sudden change to his demeanour, “After last time... We didn’t think you wanted us to do it by ourselves.”

“But that was-- That was last time, Y/n.” With every word that the man spoke, his hands rose higher and higher until they were inches away from touching his face, “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

The urge to scoff was stronger than ever, and you had to hold it back more than you ever had in your life, “I think I should be asking you that question.”

The man before you began shaking his head in a way that was almost not visible. “I told you... I was having problems with my car.” For a moment his expression remained the way it was, a visible attempt at holding back what you were guessing was anger. 

But then it failed. 

“I have... a family to take care of...” His hands dropped to his sides. When he next spoke the corners of his mouth slightly downturned like there was utter distaste for the words coming out of his mouth, “They are not going to be put at expense because, again, you weren’t able to do a simple job.”

Regardless of how loud it usually was when someone walked up the windy stairs, right now, as Jesse began to do just that, it was barely audible to your ears. The sound fading more and more the longer you stared at the man before you. “Guys, can we just--”

“I am doing my job just fine, Mr. White.” you started up with this lack of emotion to your voice, trying to make it as clear as possible that you wanted to get this over and done with, “We just didn’t want to do another batch all by ourselves, simply, because you couldn’t be bothered to show up.” Though it seemed your mouth had other plans. 

There was something that almost satisfactory when you saw a side of his face twitch. But soon, it was one that ended with this sort of smile curling at his lips, his eyebrows raising more than you had ever seen in your time working with him. “Oh.”

“So, you want me to apologise for making a singular mistake? Is that it?” He took yet another step towards you, “You know what, how about we count how many times you have made-- No, caused, a mistake, hmm?”

You couldn’t count the amount of voices that were telling you to take a step back, to move away the closer he got to stand directly in front of you, “But that wasn’t only my fault-- There’s a big difference between actually trying and just not showing up.” 

Your feet remained planted on the ground beneath. Your arms were held tighter than ever across your torso as you tried to maintain the blankest expression possible.  

“Dude, both of you just... just chill out, please.” Jesse tried to insist as he walked up the last few steps, but no one paid any attention to his words, “We can-- We can work this out--”

“You allowed a contamination,” Mr. White began, narrowing his eyes as if in disbelief, “How did you-- Did they not teach you to read, or listen, to instructions in school?”

“My education has nothing to do with this.” you insisted without missing a beat. And regardless of your attempts to keep your composure, it was inevitable that something began slipping into your voice.

You had been up early.

You had been running back and forth to make sure that certain things were sorted for certain people, had to drive all the way to downtown to pick up Jesse and then all the way back up to get here. To work.  

And then, while at work, you weren’t even able do your damn job because your other partner, that was supposed to be there at a specific time by contract, just didn’t show up. 

Which then lead you and Jesse to have to stand and do absolute jack shit for hours on end. 

Walter just shook his head again, even raising his hands like he was about to shove you or something, though he might have wanted to simply point a finger, “Well, apparently it does, because if you still aren’t competent enough to follow something so basic, then--”

“What is going on here?”

Within the next second, the man in front of you had twisted round in a way that almost gave you whiplash just from watching. He stepped to the side, and moved backwards until he was practically next to you. “Oh, Gus, I, uh... We were just... Slow start.”

But, of course, he was still a little ahead. 

Your feet, however, hadn’t moved an inch. In fact the only move you made was to let your arms finally fall free to your sides as you stared onwards. 

It was Gustavo. He was stood in the doorframe, one hand pressing against the weighted metal so that he had enough time to take in his surroundings. And then he took the final step inside. 

It was only when the door closed behind him that you realised you hadn’t even heard it open in the first place. 

The lab was back to what it had been minutes ago. Silent. No sound at all filtering throughout the entire room. 

Gustavo stilled himself not far from the door he had walked through, but enough so that you could feel his presence as well as see it. His arms were unmoving by his sides, a trait that would’ve carried out through his entire body if he hadn’t started moving his head. 

Like Walter had done when he arrived, Gustavo looked at the room below. He studied it, looked from one section to the other while noting the quietness that was effecting even him. 

And then he turned back to the people across from him, the expression on his face unwavering, “Why is that? There’s nothing in the machines.”

“You know, ex-- exactly.” the man to your side suddenly spoke up, snapping your attention from the other guy you wanted to look at a little longer. “I had... countless problems with a lot of things this morning, and I wasn’t able to arrive on time.”

Walter sort of took a step forward, but instead of what you would naturally think of when someone carried out such a movement, he didn’t properly face Gustavo. 

He stood side on, his body turned towards the machines so he could look at you or his boss with a simple movement of his head. And as of now, you seemed to be his main target. “Apparently they couldn’t be bothered to start the batch themselves.”

“That’s not true.” You mirrored his stance, faced directly towards him, instead of the man who was just trying to seek answers, as your eyebrows furrowed as much as they could. 

Walter tilted his head, “You sure?” he asked, using the most condescending voice that would of set you off had you already lost the grasp on your, slowly dissipating, self control. 

“Yes, I don’t understand--” Your hand rose to your face, fingers pressing into the skin beneath before dragging down to your chin. And then they dropped. You took in a deep breath. “Look... I admit it, sure, we could have started the cook. But.”

“Me and Jesse both thought it was smarter to wait after the previous mistake,” you began, emphasising your point by gesturing to the dude who was now stood behind, and his eyes sort of widened at the sudden attention. 

This time it was you who took the step forward. “But yet again,” You made sure to hold yourself back from blinking as you stared right at the man who was trying so hard not to cut you off, your fists clenched at your sides. “You. Weren’t. Here.”

Your heart was thudding in your ears, a sound louder than any other thing in the room. The exhaustion was rampant through your body, continuously attacking system, and at this point testing your patience that had already become thin. 

The ability to control anything was about one minute away from collapsing. 

“Why were you late, Mr. White?”

When Gustavo’s voice caught your ears, you hadn’t even bothered to look his way despite the fact that Walter did. In fact, he took the chance to move away from you, which almost made him bump into the other railing. 

“Car troubles, and, uh... family stuff, too, you know... all that.” he informed, his voice and the look of his face switching into one that you could instantly tell was the fakest attempt of trying to get sympathy. 

“And you didn’t inform anyone of these... troubles?”

Your head turned in about a second, your gaze snapping to the man who hadn’t moved a singular inch since the last time you properly saw him. His attention was only on Walter, his eyes now slightly narrowed. 

“What...” Mr. White started, the shock clear within his voice and the expression on his face, “Are you... Are you trying to say that this is my fault?”

“I am not saying anything, Mr. White.” Gustavo’s turned in the mans direction with such slowness that had a look of regret taking over anything else that was threatening to appear on Walters face. And once he stilled, he had even slightly tilted it to the side, “I am simply asking questions to understand why a job hasn’t been completed.”

Walter let out this sort of scoff of a sound as he gestured with his hands like before, “Well, then your asking the wrong person, Gus.” 

He pointed towards you, this time not even bothering to look unless it was to make sure his finger was actually aimed in your direction, “They... They have been here for who knows how long, I... I-- I mean, the batch could’ve finished by now, if they just--”

“You are putting the blame... on them?” Gustavo’s voice was low, deep in pitch that it was almost gravelly and harsh to any ears that heard it. There was no direct tone, or emotion clear within it. But paired with the slow step forward, anyone could tell that it wasn’t good. 

“You are putting the blame on a person who was actively trying to solve a problem that you created... because you weren’t competent enough to make a phone call?”

You were use to his intimidation tactics. In all honesty, usually, it seemed even more affective when he wasn’t using them, like when he wore that smile that never really reached his eyes. 

But this...

This was different. 

When Gustavo wanted to intimidate someone, or remind them of their place in the bigger picture. He had relationships to maintain, an act to keep up so that nothing could expose him and/or his business, so he never risked insulting a person in case it would backfire, create unnecessary problems.

Gustavo Fring wasn’t a man who directly insulted someone unless he was going to gain something from it... Well, apparently, until now. 

For the next few seconds it seemed that Mr. White couldn’t find the exact reaction he had. His lips twitched almost every way that they could, his mouth would open and close again and again like he was mimicking a fish, all the while his head began to shake once again, “I don’t... I don’t know what to say-- I can’t... Gus, I just--”

“I have heard all I needed.” There were no movements that accompanied his words. No change to his voice a part from a mild show of a tested patience. Gustavo just stared at the man before him, unblinking, “You still have plenty time to cook.”

“You can’t be serious--”

“That’s what you came here to do... Is it not?” Gustavo pointed out simply, his head tilting to the side in a way that almost made him look like a puppy. But his face said all that it needed to. 

Walter sort of cowered, avoiding the mans gaze as he took a moment to think, “I... I-- Well... Yes, but--”

In about a second, though there was almost nothing displayed on Gustavo’s face, everything sort of... dropped? His eyelids lowered in a way that wasn’t enough to hide his eyes but it was still visible, his jaw unclenched, his lips almost looked like they were turning down the way. 

But again. Not once did he blink. 

“Then cook.”

For a solid ten seconds, there was just utter silence. Someone could have drop a pin on the other side of the room, and it would still echo like any other sound. No one moved. No one twitched. No one spoke.

Walter took in a deep breath, his shoulders deflating when it made its way back out. And then he turned, beginning to do just as Gustavo said this time without any argument.

But the moment you started to do to the same thing--

“Not you.”

You froze. Your body hadn’t even managed to twist yet, so after sending a look to Jesse who sent one right back, you simply rocked back on your feet, resuming the same position you were in before. 

His eyes were only on yours. The first time he had fully looked at you since he had entered the room. 

“We have... other matters to discuss.”

~

After you left the room, it was practically silent when you began to walk.

There was the usual sounds that occurred from the machines within the laundromat, and the workers who you were still not sure knew about the giant meth lab beneath there feet, but between you and Gustavo there was nothing. 

No exchange of words and barely even the sound of your own footsteps. 

He was a few steps ahead of you, which may have been one of the main reasons, as he lead you across the paths that had big machines towering over you on each side. 

There would be a few moments were you had to duck, or even completely manoeuvre, around certain objects that were hung, either needing to dry or they were connected to a moving system that would bring clothes from one section to another.  

You had no idea where you were going. The second the two of you had officially exited the lab, his lips had became sealed. He just started walking, and of course, you only had one response to that. 

Your gaze pretty much remained on Gustavo’s back no matter how far you went, only fleeting to make sure that you weren’t going to bump into anything, as you followed the man in front of you like a lost duckling... Though, you felt more like a child getting ready to be told off. 

Eventually, after stopping yourself from getting caught up in the thoughts swirling through your mind, you found yourself walking out of the big vertical door. The entrance of the laundromat. 

If your heart wasn’t pounding before it sure was now. And no matter how badly you wanted to just focus on the feeling of fresh air after being stuck in an underground room for what felt like, and probably was, about five hours... Gustavo stopped walking. 

He was stood at the edge of the paved platform, hands moving to clasp behind his back as he resumed that usual straight posture. 

Your steps grew slower the more close you got to standing by his side. You wanted to gage his mood, predict what was about to happen or what he was going to say, which was a bit difficult considering that you could only see the back of his head. 

You cleared your throat when you had arrived to the right of him. Your eyes were slightly narrowed, adjusting to the sudden presence of the sun, while you gently leaned back and forth on your feet. 

“Sir, I... I’m really sorry about this... Again,” you had begun, but almost immediately your speech planned in your head seemed to have fallen apart. 

You turned your head to the side, trying to properly convey your apology through your face more than your words. “I know it doesn’t help the business, but I really, really, don’t know why this keeps happening--”

“Y/n.” 

You had already been looking at Gustavo throughout your words. And maybe it was because you were too caught up in your mind, or because originally the man before you had been gazing into the distance with the usual expression that barely gave you anything to work with. 

But now he was looking right back at you. 

“Yes?” you answered subconsciously in a way that had your mouth snapping shut immediately after realising that you didn’t need to actually do that. 

This time, Gustavo’s chin lowered, “I’m not going to scold you, Y/n.” His gaze was the most gentle you had ever seen it, along with sound of his voice. He may have said the words simply, and matter of factly, but his face told you otherwise. 

You sort of just stood there for a moment, blinking at him. “You... You’re...” And then your eyebrows furrowed all over again, your body turning so that you faced him directly, “You’re not?”

Gustavo kept looking at you, and finally, since thatsituation with Mr. White, you weren’t presented with an expression of judgement. It wasn’t a look that visibly told that they thought whatever they were seeing was utter stupidity. 

He took in a breath, letting his eyes fall back on the busy town ahead for a split second, before they were back on your own, “I want you to go home.” 

His voice was lighter, the expression on his face no longer holding the tension that had clung to his skin. 

Your lips parted, even if no sound initially came out. You stared back at him for a moment, your eyes a little wider than they were before, almost unblinking, “Did I mess up that badly?”

Gustavo’s eyebrows furrowed so quickly that you hadn’t caught onto it until he turned his body in your direction, “Forgive my phrasing.” he started, his hands remaining behind his back no matter the change of position, “This is not a punishment.” 

With his next words, Gustavo made sure that you were looking at him, right into his eyes, just in case his meaning was conveyed through his voice, “You are not in trouble for the wrongdoings of another man.”

... Were you missing something? Why would Gustavo take you out of the lab? 

I mean, sure, you made the deduction that not starting the batch might’ve not been such a great idea, and honestly at some point expected to get a good talking too because of it. Maybe it would be the final straw... 

But here you were. Theman himself, the big boss, stood right in front of you. Directly telling you that you’re not in trouble.

“Then... I’m going to have to say that I don’t understand, Sir.” The muscles beneath your brows were getting a good work out from consistently changing between being normal and then furrowed within, practically, every thirty seconds, “We still have a batch to do, a deadline to follow.”

Influenced yet again by a man stood before you, “And who is that for?” 

Your whole body felt like it wanted to deflate, fall limp and just collapse on the ground. This time it wasn’t in anger, or fear, or annoyance. It was because after everything, you could exhale the nerves that had clung to your insides. There was no use for them now. 

You lightly nodded your head, the fact of not being in trouble officially processing in a way that had your gaze lowering, “... You.”

Gustavo wanted to smile. He wanted to display his pride of finally cracking the code that was your mind, having created even a bit of equal understanding, but he could still see the ghost of the previous expression that held your face hostage. The genuine concern over possible harming his business.

And him. 

“I am not asking you to leave because I think that you are bad at your job, or that you don’t do anything for this business-- Because that would be entirely wrong.” he started up with this new voice that was difficult to ignore, “I am simply saying that you have the day off.”

“It is... normal in a workplace, is it not?”

By the time your eyes met Gustavo’s, your brows had furrowed once again, though now, it was for a very different reason, “I mean... Yes-- But not in this business, just...” 

There was a huff of air that passed through your lips. Theexhaustion from earlier was presenting itself back into your system, making the want to talk become a lot less than before, “Let me-- Let me go back in there, we can work, we can... we can get it done.”

Gustavo’s head began shaking before you had even finished your sentence, “I can’t do that.”

“And why not?” you questioned, leaning back slightly so that you could fully take in his demeaner, analyse any look that took over his face, “I thought you said that I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“You didn’t.” he insisted almost immediately, the expression he wore going blank the way it usually did. But now wasn’t the time. “Then...” You took in yet another breath to cut off your words, trying to suppress the urges to sigh, scoff, or the sudden want to raise your voice, “Why?”

To say this day felt long was truly an understatement. Things just kept happening one after the other and still you were left in the dark. No answer as to why things progressed into the situations they had. 

“Y/n, I am not... risking the loss of more time to arguing.” It was like you could visibly see the words he chose to say. The pure caution, decisions careful enough so that he wouldn’t set off the things he could see getting ready in your eyes, “I know that if you go back in there, Mr. White will not... let go. Not unless I place someone in there to stand and watch at all times.”

“All I am telling you is that you are free to go while I... sort things out.” Gustavo somehow made himself stand taller, trying to prove the confidence in which was already heard in his voice and to also prepare for the possibility of you finally reacting in the way that your body had wanted to for hours. 

But despite what he had envisioned playing out, or tried to predict, it was pretty much the opposite. In fact, the only proper reaction to his words was your shoulders deflating, ridding your muscles of its constant worry. 

And then you crossed your arms over your chest, sniffing as you did so, “And what about Jesse... Mr. White? What-- What about them?” you questioned, waiting for the words to settle before you looked back into those other pair of eyes, only to find that the look from earlier had repossessed his face, “It may not seem like it, but I assure you, Y/n.”

“Mr. Pinkman and Mr. White can handle it themselves.”

For the first time throughout the entire day, you felt the want to smile. “Okay then.” You nodded your head once, your grip tightening on your arms as you took a step backwards, “Thank you, uh... Mr. Fring. It seems you have saved me again.”

“Gus. Call me Gus, and please, there is no need to thank me.” Gustavo started up before you could even try to turn in the direction of your car, “It comes under being an employee.”

Your body stilled after about one more steps backwards, your eyes narrowing at the man before you, playfully, “Then how come I haven’t heard you getting protective when someone else makes a mistake?”

Gustavo mirrored the look on your face, “I wasn’t... I wasn’t being... protective?” In his case, however, he wasn’t doing it in a teasing sort of manner, he was just genuinely confused at the comment. “I simply understood the situation and acted accordingly.”

Your arms loosened in your hold until they lowered to your sides once again, “And yet you defended me.” If you were close enough to Gustavo you would probably have started circling him, “Even though I was in the wrong... both times.”

Gustavo unfurrowed his brows, “You weren’t in the wrong just because some man has an incorrect idea of authority… and a very poor concept of time.” His tone was the flattest you had ever heard it. There was no emotion behind it until the words of... slight insult. 

The urge to smile grew stronger that had you pressing your lips together to stop yourself from letting out a laugh. “Still,” Though, after a moment, you managed to compose yourself, “If you hadn’t arrived when you did...”

Gustavo huffed air through his nose, bowing his head a tad before he let it shake a few times. When he looked back up it was clear that he was trying to hold back whatever was wanting to take over his face, but you could see it in his eyes. 

“Go home.”

There was this feeling of giddiness begging to erupt in your chest. It spread a warmth to every part of your body until it was a collective feeling. It caught you of guard, causing the smile you were trying to hide begin to curl at your lips.

So, after a sharp breath and a nod as a thanks, you sort of ducked away, twisting yourself around so that you could make your way towards your car. 

However, the nearer that you got to the vehicle, it seemed there was a thought pushing itself further and further to the centre of your mind. It may have been more of a feeling, as you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to go back to your house.

I mean, sure, being able to take a nice long shower, grab a bite to eat, and completely flop on your bed sounded... Well, pretty nice actually. 

But the next session for a batch was now going to be days away. 

Days from your work and a certain Fring. 

You had completely stilled about a step away from your car. There was a quiet breath that huffed through your nose, one that only you could hear, “You know what, actually.”and then you turned on your heel, the concrete practically scuffing under your shoe. “I’ve worked for you for quite some time now, and yet…”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been inside your restaurant.”

The man your eyes managed to focus on seemed to be closer than he was the last time you saw him. A fact that made your brain almost completely miss the words that came out of his mouth. “Well, it’s not an obligation.” 

There was something about the look on his face. Something about the way he pressed his lips together immediately after he finished speaking. He may have assured that the visit wasn’t needed, but... there might have still been a want. 

“What hours is it open?” you asked, the sound of your voice almost echoing through the parking area, even if the noises from the active laundromat were louder. 

Gustavo’s head slightly rose after a moment, one of his brows slightly twitching as he processed your question. And then he cleared his throat, “That would depend on the day.” he informed, readjusting the hands he still held behind his back. 

You hummed in response, letting your gaze fall into the distance as you thought.

Honestly, after the past few hours you could barely remember what part of the week you were in right now. So, instead, you thought back to what a usual week would look like. 

What was the day that was perfectly set between the times you would possibly be able to see Gustavo at work? Right in the middle?

“How about Thursday?” you suggested, now watching as Gustavo began to make his way across the concrete, slightly nodding his head, “Then... Seven to ten, I believe.” 

“All right,” you breathed out, the speed in which your heart beat increased the more the man approached. “One less lunch to plan for the week.” You practically gulped as you reached backwards, fingers patting against the cool metal of the vehicle for a moment until they located the handle. 

Gustavo stilled himself about three steps in front of you, the look on his face signalling that he was thinking about something as he wasn’t making direct eye contact, “Actually... I would suggest to come around dinner time.” 

Just as you were about to tug on the handle, your hand froze, along with pretty much every other part of your body. 

The man was now looking right at you, his voice sort of timid in a way that caught you even more off guard. And apparently himself too. “It’s... more quiet.” He cleared his throat, “Less people around.”

Your arm slowly moved back to your side, releasing the warm handle from any sort of grasp. 

There was a fight going on in your chest. A want to give into the urge of running away like you would’ve done in a situation close to this as a kid. But you weren’t a child anymore, far from it. 

It took a good moment for any sound to be able to roll off of your tongue. And as soon as something eventually had, it was like your lungs remembered how to properly function. “Will you be there?” 

You felt younger. The two of you may have been stood pretty much right in front of the other, yet neither of you could maintain eye contact longer than a few seconds before you collectively had to look away, no matter how confident either one of you tried to seem.

Gustavo cleared his throat, though it sounded like it had barely done anything. “I believe so.” he finally confirmed, and regardless of the fact that his voice was still quiet, there was this tone that took over his words. 

“Well, good...” That giddy feeling returned, even if it had probably never left. “I think I probably would still go if you weren’t there, but... it would be a lot less... fun.”

The man before you let the slightest smile curl at a side of his mouth, “Well, we wouldn’t want that now would we?” He sounded more breathy this time, a natural progression from his already quiet voice. But it wasn’t because of nerves, or a reaction of his lungs, which you had initially thought. It was intentional.  

“Not at all.” Your voice in question was more full than his, however, there was this slight whisper to it, as if Gustavo should be the only person allowed to hear it. 

“Then it’s settled,” he began, slightly lowering his head in away that had your back pressing into your car. His normal tone had seeped back through his words like he was back in boss mode. But not quite Gustavo Fring just yet. “How does... eight o’clock sound? Unless you eat earlier?”

Your head shook practically without a second of hesitance. The ability to move your lips was barely thereso you resorted to moving to the side, finally pulling on the handle of your car door until it swung out far enough that you could stand behind it. 

You could see Gustavo raise his eyebrows just the slightest as the door had created a sort of separation, and it had you biting back a grin. “It’s perfect.” you insisted, trying to sound as neutral as possible despite the, possibly, clear ways you felt at that moment. 

And then you lowered yourself into the car, having to slightly shifted backwards a little bit to properly get into the drivers seat before you swung your legs inside.  

Your hand grasped the inside of your door, your fingers making certain that they had a good grip, before your eyes landed on the figure through the glass of the window that hadn’t moved an inch.

And then you smiled. 

“Gus.”

[danganronpa96]

How does Latte Cookie feel about the participants so far?

I’m not sure if you mean everyone who’s currently alive or the entire cast, but I’ll do the latter because we gotta give our cookie queen some attention

Walter -> She saw him as a reliable leader at first, someone who would be able to lift everyone’s spirits up with his plan. Of course, when his true intentions came to light, she felt immensely disappointed and betrayed. Still, she would’ve liked to have learned more about his time as a teacher.

Hiroshi -> As a student, Latte was impressed with his academic intelligence. She wanted to encourage him to be more social, however, despite his inward nature. She still strongly believes that Nesos is at fault for pressuring him to commit murder.

Retsuko -> She found Retsuko very cute at first by her small appearance, but did get concerned by her surprisingly unhealthy habits. Latte wishes she could’ve talked to her more, perhaps inviting her to the cafe to chat more about their lives.

Kaidou -> (oh… oh dear) Latte would never admit to bias out loud, but Kaidou did have a special place in her heart very quickly. She always saw his imaginative mind as a healthy proof of his creativity (and sort of also assumed he wanted to be a hero like some of her other cookie students). She still blames herself from time to time about not being there for him when things got tough during the 2nd motive, and misses him a lot.

Ena -> Latte always saw Ena in a similar way to her other students, although as a more special case. It was clear Ena still had a lot to learn, and yet could surprise her in terms of things she herself didn’t know about. Latte was never intimidated by Ena’s presence, but despite her confusion at some points, she never wanted to give up on them. This went for their emotions as well. It was upsetting to see them go so soon.

Yuri -> At first, Latte was sure she could read Yuri like a open book (pun intended). A quiet girl who just needed a gentle push in the right direction to expose her full potential. However, past the second trial, Latte was scratching her head at what had just happened. She still does not feel anything that Yuri said was her true beliefs, and that deep down she was still the same sweet girl that just got caught up in something horrible.

Mai -> (oh god… please have mercy on me) What can I say that wasn't already 100% obvious unless you're playing historian. Latte loved Mai a lot, and not just in that way. Her overall outlook on life, her fun ideas to build bonds, her interest in Latte's own life and interests; she really was the ideal other half. Nothing could ever hurt more than seeing those gingerMais. Still, she's trying her best to overcome the grief despite all.

Bojack -> Latte never really approved of Bojack's overall lifestyle (then again, there weren't a whole lot who did). She was just grateful he kept himself away from the students (par Natsuki, but that was more of an exception considering what he did for her). She felt some sorrow for his case, but ultimately decided not to get too involved unless for Jesse's sake.

For these guys, I’ll talk about how she sees them so far (like the ask intends, but as chapter 5 isn’t over yet, I’ll include the chapter 5 victim in the same fashion):

L -> Latte is very impressed by L's wit and skills, and although I've attempted to lightly reference this in the fic before, he reminds her a little of Espresso Cookie. She doesn't necessarily think she relies on him for trials and such too much, however she's grateful he uses his intelligence to help them all investigate further into Nesos rather than stay selfish about it. At least, that's what it looks like in her eyes.

Jesse -> Latte has seen first hand how much Jesse has been through (in terms of those he's lost so far). She does tend to look out for him from time to time (those teacher tendencies kicking in), but tries not to coddle him too much considering his age. She thinks Jesse should be a little more responsible with some habits, considering he tends to spend a lot of time with Natsuki now, but won't overstep her boundaries.

Natsuki -> It was tough seeing Natsuki go through the notions ever since her murder case. Latte is very proud of how Natsuki's dealing with things so far, even taking some of her own advice into account. She also really enjoys Natsuki's baking, and hopes she continues to bake more in the future despite what set her back (and perhaps join her for another baking session).

Saiki -> As he is Kaidou's friend, Latte has always felt sorrow for how Saiki has been dealing with things since the second case. She's happy how he's manage to come more out of his shell as of late, but wishes he could speak up more because she can tell he has a lot of potential despite his mysterious demeanor.

Brian -> Latte sees Brian as a good person who tries his best despite his clumsiness. She's very curious about his role as a witch-hunter, but ever since their small talk about it, she's only gotten more questions on why he doesn't recognise her descriptions of the witch.

Kurumada -> At first, Latte wasn't a fan of Kurumada's brutish and brash nature. However, she's now warmed up to him after seeing more of why he acts this way, especially after Mai's death. She can tell how much he works to make Hayasaka as comfortable as possible at any moment, being during a murder case or a normal day. They both share a want to help avenge Mai's will.

Hayasaka -> Latte finds Hayasaka a delight to talk to, by proxy of her connection towards Mai, but is also appreciative of what he tries to do for the group in trials and such. She notices how much he tends to look out for younger members of the group (i.e. Saiki) and wonders if he bares some secret parental tendencies deep down. She hopes he could open up more, after seeing what he said during their time at the arcade.

[roolsilver]

I was thinking today about how one of the major themes in Iruma is Teamwork.

The Cannonball Execution Exam was basically a vehicle to show the baseline teamwork of demons. Az is so obsessed with Iruma that he ignores everyone else, and the rest are too busy being chaotic idiots to even play the game. Half of them are disqualified on technicalities before they even touch a ball. 1/10 teamwork at best. The first time the Misfit class even has a common goal is Royal One, and all the planning on that falls to Iruma, the rest just go along with it as he uses their strengths. Teamwork 3/10.

Cut to Season 2 and we have Walter Park. For the first time, Iruma isn't the one who brings everyone together. Not only do two of the groups not have Iruma at all, in Iruma's group he really isn't in charge, especially once the attack starts. You have Kalego telling his group to work together or die, and they DO IT. They fail, but their plan is sound and they all play their parts well instead of going off on their own. Surprisingly good teamwork for a team with no Iruma. Amarie is used to leading the Student Council and Opera is Opera, but Clara takes it upon herself to help them and Keroli uses her concert to benefit others. Iruma isn't really directing any of the others, but even Sabnok and Az work together. Even Ronove makes the often forgotten decision to sacrifice himself to save everyone else in the park. Top it off with the ridiculous teamwork of the Adult Trio and it shows them all how far they have left to go. Teamwork 5/10 for the kids, 8/10 for the adults.(it was 90% just a ploy to harass Kalego)

Season 3 is the Harvest Festival and for the first time the teamwork is a deliberate choice from the beginning. The pairs do well together, and everyone comes together to support eachother when there's a common threat again, but this is the first time they're all working towards the benefit of a few. Some of then are disqualified, some of them have no chance of winning, some of them get disqualified on purpose, some of them give away their chances for the sake of others. They're small units all working for the benefit of Iruma by the end, just out of camaraderie. Teamwork 8/10.

Manga Spoilers below

Jump ahead to Season 4 and the Music Festival and the class has a common goal that benefits them all again. It's very demon to jealousy guard what is yours, and they all embrace that. Choosing the right leader, Keroli, and overcoming the common weakness of demons to synchronize, and highlighting the ones in the group who need it the most. They even bring Purson into the fold, and critically they DON'T expect him to be up to speed. They DON'T assume he can do the same things they can. They tailor his role to him, not to them. And they blow everyone away. Teamwork 11/10, they have reached a level of teamwork impossible for both humans and demons.

Going further, during the Deviculum Iruma totally assumes that Az will act as he does. They're in sync, they're a unit.

During the Heartbreaker, Jazz trusts Allocer to keep his kohais from the beginning, and Az passes his off even to Caim, who DOES adequately protect them. They aren't instructed specifically to work together, it's assumed by this point that they will. They trust eachother implicitly as a unit. Teamwork 10/10, but a SOLID 10/10. They're keeping it at this level. They're comfortable with it.

And when they get back to the Battler Party, Agares is offended that they even THOUGHT he would need convincing. Of COURSE he's going to help, they're Misfits.

[fictionadventurer]

Just because I am so curious what you would come up with this title….

The Scorn Prince- historical fantasy

When I picked The Scorn Prince by Meryl North off of the library shelf on a whim, I had no clue that I was getting all my favorite fantasy tropes in one middle-grade (borderline YA) book. We've got a cozy sibling tale. We've got fantasy political intrigue. And we get a portal fantasy where the person from another world crosses to our world.

The Scorn Prince is one Jerrigan, crown prince of the fantasy realm of Ardwick, so-named because of his intense pride and sharp tongue that lead him to disdain basically everyone as his inferiors. As you can imagine, this doesn't make him many friends, and he winds up being overthrown in a revolution and driven into the wilderness, where he stumbles upon a portal that leads him to a coastal village in 1940s Maine. There, he's discovered by Ruth Yates and her brothers Walter and Edwin, who, naturally, think he's crazy, but decide to help him find food and shelter and navigate their world. There's all sorts of silly fish-out-of-water shenanigans, but also a surprisingly touching character arc, as Jerrigan learns humility and the kids learn to overcome some of their own character flaws that they see mirrored in Jerrigan. It's such a touching little tale of friendship (even a hint of romance), which makes the ending that much more bittersweet. I loved that Jerrigan had matured into someone who was worthy of and could reclaim his throne, but I'll admit that I teared up when he had to leave the Yates family behind. It's such a simple (almost too simple) story, but it hit so many things I love that I was kind of obsessed.

[gothamslostboy]

Hi me again! Could I request Spencer Reid x trans male reader (ftm) with the prompts

“Please stay” and “It’s cold when your gone”

Where the 2 r js cuddling bc some asshole at y/ns work said some shit abt him being trans

Maybe a bit of making out but fs like kisses

Ty luv 🫶

- 🦭

A/N: hey 🦭, thank you for my first ever Spencer Reid request! This was a great experience to write and I hope you like it:]

Meliorism

WORDS: 850

MELIORISM (n.) the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world

Spencer Reid x FTM reader

SPENCER YOU

Spencer had 3 main amazing talents. His eidetic memory, which allowed him to recall the tiniest visual details of the things he sees, even if briefly. Reid could also read 20,000 words a minute, finishing books that would take a regular person multiple days in only a few hours. These are well known about Spencer, but, his third talent is something only you’ve experienced. He has the ability to read your emotions perfectly.

If he hadn’t already explained that the ability to be a genuine mind reader would require factors that don’t exist in our world, you would’ve been sure he was one. No matter how insignificant the feeling, Dr. Spencer Walter Reid knew you felt it. So it was no suprise when he was already at the door when you arrived home, scooping you into a hug and kissing your forehead.

Daniel said something again didn’t he? You know, even after one transphobic comment the U.S Equal Employment Opportunity Commission says that he can be fired. I’m sorry he does this Y/N, you deserve better. You let out a small chuckle as he continues to ramble about different papers and documents he’s read that could help. Just knowing how much Spencer wants to help makes the hurt you feel evaporate away for a bit.

I’m gonna be ok Spence, it just hurts to hear those things. Especially because he was a work friend before he found out I’m trans. You broke away from the hug to shrug the burgundy coat off your body, placing it on the coat rack before grabbing Spencer’s hand & walking towards your shared bedroom. I know Y/N, but you’re just too great of a guy to have to put up with hateful speech. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? I just want to lay down and watch a show, is Star Trek alright? He smiles, matching the small one on your face as he nods.

Sounds perfect! Did you know that Star Trek actually has very little physics mistakes? Considering the time it was- Spencer’s phone rings, cutting off a rant you were honestly interested in hearing. He answers, the corners of his mouth dropping back down as he exhales. He nods his head a few times before excusing himself to the person on the other end of the phone. Sorry Hotch, just a moment. You’re now back to feeling the same disappointment you had earlier, Aaron only calls after 6:00pm when there’s a case.

Y/N, im so sorry, Reid cups your face with his left hand. There’s a briefing for a case, we leave early tomorrow. Please stay. You lean your face into his hand even more. I know it’s selfish, but I just don’t want to be alone…. Its not selfish. A quiet silence fills the moment. Spencer examines you for a second before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. He guides you onto the bed, pulling off your shoes and turning on Star Trek. He exits the room and moves the phone back to his ear. You sigh, knowing that the case is important or he would’ve stayed.

Surprisingly, Spence re enters about 10 minutes later, with waters and your favorite snack. I thought- I can read the case files on the flight tomorrow. There’s more than enough time and Hotch said he’d fill me in on any other information needed. You hug his side as he sits down, pulling yourself close enough to rest your head on his shoulder as you watch the show. Thank you Spence. It’s better when you’re here, the house is so cold when I’m alone. He turns your head to face his, you come first Y/N, always.

Both leaning in for a slightly intense kiss, time passes and you realize 1 and 1/2 episodes have played in the background. You two had got so caught up in eachother that the tv noise had been completely forgotten. Spencer shares one more peck, before turning back to the screen. I thought you just wanted to lay down and watch a show? We haven’t done very much of that have we? A snicker escapes you as your eyes roll playfully.

Alright, I know. You’ve seen this show a hundred times- 68 and 3/5ths. Reid beams at you as you raise an eyebrow. Ok, you’ve seen this show 68 & 3/5ths times, what’s happened so far in this episode?

He begins to tell you all the needed context for the episode, and then some extra. You lean back against his shoulder and you two hold the hands closest to eachother, the horrible day of work completely forgotten.

Spencer tended to do that. He made all your bad days turn into good ones. You knew no matter how many people tried to hurt you, to tear away your happiness, that people like Spencer Reid existed. People who spend everyday trying to fix this broken world. You knew that meeting Spencer and falling in love with him was the luckiest thing a guy like you could do.

[sflow-er]

Two-year fic anniversary

I can't believe it's been two whole years since OPS was completed. Happy anniversary to all my ace Henry AU boys, their happy endings, and me finishing a story for the first time in well over a decade!

To celebrate the occasion, I'm going to put two of my personal favourite bits from ch33 under the cut (neither of them are Wilmon, sorry).

-Big spoiler warning-

Firstly, the whole confrontation between Henry and his parents but especially this part:

He fell silent and dug his hands deeper into his pockets to physically force his shoulders to stop rising and falling so rapidly. It felt surprisingly good to say all that, but since he had no idea what was supposed to come next, it was best to try to appear calmer than he felt. His parents were not saying anything. His father was simply pinching his lips together with a strange look, and his mother kept batting her lashes in quick bursts while they both stared at his flushed face. The next thing he knew, Mickan rushed to hug him. Her arms felt less stiff than usual clamping around him, and the way she squeezed him to her chest was almost a bit clingy. He allowed it but was too wary to reciprocate right away, even if the familiar scent of her perfume stirred an old impulse to do that. “I’m so sorry, Henry,” she said in a small voice. “I understand why you feel that way, and it’s all our fault.” She sniffled at the end, and at that point, Henry’s arms moved around her without much input from his brain. She hesitantly petted his hair, and the next time he exhaled, some of the tension in his back and shoulders flowed out. He repeated it one breath after another, gradually relaxing into the embrace. His eyes burned a little, but he breathed through it. After a while, a hand landed on his free shoulder, and Calle said in a tone that could only be described as apologetic, “It’ll be okay.”

And secondly, the very last lines (after Henry wants to tell some of his family friends that Walter is in fact his boyfriend). All the Walty bits in this chapter are shamelessly sappy since it's the last one, but I am really happy with the ending:

In response, Walter darted up to press their lips together for less than a couple of seconds, almost too fast for Henry to register the kiss before it already disconnected with a smack. Then he sat up, picked Henry’s phone from the coffee table, and handed it over. “Do it then. I’ll try to think of a good lady of the manor joke to tell them.” “Please don’t,” Henry said, opening the contact on his phone. “It needs to be a really bad one. The worse the better.”

[pynkhues]

Oh you know I need your dream cast for a Succession prequel, Sophie

(x)

Okay okay okay, SO first thing's first, my dream Succession prequel is set against the 80s clusterfuck expansion into parks because every little bit of canon we got about that era just cooks. You've got Logan meeting Frank (and probably Gerri), Logan's whirlwind romance then toxic marriage to Caroline, Logan starting to have the golden trio and reconnecting with Connor and dealing with the aftermath of what happened to, and with, Connor's mother! Plus Ewan may or may not be still involved in the company? (I choose to think he is!)

As a result, a lot of my casting is partially determined by the age the characters would be then, which means I've had to change some actual dream casting (Romola Garai as 40yo Gerri, my beloved), but it's also a pretty fun era to think about so that's fine.

Anyway, let David Tennant as Young(er) Ewan invite you in:

I really love the Snr. Roy's being from Scotland, and their backstory feels so entwined with Scottish WWII history, so I wanted to honour that a bit in the fancasting, but all the same, I think I probably would've cast David Tennant anyway. I think he can sell that simultaneous moral superiority and absolute hypocrisy in a way that Ewan needs, and honestly, I just love the idea of him reading Jesse Armstrong's dialogue, haha.

Was Karl working for Logan in the 80s? I choose to believe yes, because I love him. Jack Lowden's been one of those actors who's popped up in a few things I've watched lately - Fighting with My Family, Small Axe and Slow Horses in particular, and I've been consistently pretty impressed with him? I think he's got a good handle of comedic timing (important for anyone taking up the Karl mantle) but also is a compelling dramatic actor and I think he could kill it opposite...

David Rysdahl as Young Frank! I've always figured Frank would've been a bit younger than Logan, and I love that little glimpse we got in canon of Frank having been brought in to advise on the parks acquisition and then Logan basically making him an offer to stay. There's something extra crunchy there for me if Frank's a little wide-eyed at the time and Logan oozes that charm that we know that he can turn on when he wants to. I like the psychosexual drama, and I also like the idea of Frank having this weird sort of connection to Caroline and Kendall because he met them while he was still impressionable / in the midst of being swept up.

But yes, haha, David Rysdahl I think is a bit of an up-and-comer, which is kinda funny given he's been in a lot of stuff. I've liked him though in the newest season of Fargo, and lowkey think he looks a bit like a young Peter Friedman.

Honestly, I just loved her in Swallow a lot, and she played the smart, unhappy, unhinged, WASP-y wife there to such perfection that I think she'd be ideal for a young Gerri who's still better known as Baird's wife than as counsel. There's such an attitude and vulnerability to Haley too which I think would match J's quite well, plus they have a bit of a similar look too which works for me? I want to see her claw her way in! And I also want to see her toxic relationship with Caroline which leads to her being Shiv's godmother.

Speaking of...

Honestly, I went through a few people for Caroline and she was surprisingly hard to cast. A lot of actresses who felt like they might fit the bill - Michelle Dockery and Claire Foy were two that sprung to mind - didn't really work as I didn't think they could quite balance the acidity with the blunt charm and playfulness that Harriet Walter just does so well (and honestly is a testament to what an actress she is). But then! Jessie Buckley! I've loved Jessie in everything I've seen her in, from Women Talking to The Lost Daughter, but it was actually thinking about her turn in Misbehaviour which made me think of her for this, exactly because of how she can play, well playfulness.

Plus I think she'd be a lot of fun opposite...

I did say I''d go with a Scotsman! Ewan McGregor's been in a few mmm, less good things lately, which makes a turn in a role like Logan Roy could potentially be pretty great. He's always been a remarkable actor, and one who, I think, can find the heart in any role, which is arguably what any actor playing Logan needs. Plus I always tend to think Ewan has chemistry with everyone he acts opposite, and I think he could really sell Logan's naked charisma in this era in a way that would make sense given he's making some pretty questionable choices across the board in the 80s. Plus, y'know, to the point of the post that inspired this one, I think him playing Logan would do a lot of psychic damage to people who could only ever see Logan as perpetrator of abuse and never as product or victim.

[mattybstqrn]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫 (𝐏𝐓.𝟏) - 𝐂.𝐖

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝟹𝚡

Female Reader x Cole Walter

This chapter is just a flashback, but it is EXTREMELY important to read!

Y/n Y/l/n is a very smart girl, Y/n gets good grades, pays attention in class, takes thousands of notes, and also tutors kids who need it. Y/n was kind of known as a nerd, Y/n didn't care what people thought about you though. You just like learning new things and helping people out with school but if that considered you a nerd then so be.

But because out how smart you are you're used to tutoring a lot of people, so one day when the guidance counselor Y/n to tutor Cole Walter, the hottest guy in school and Y/n's crush, you obviously couldn't turn down the offer, not that you would've not matter who it was, you immediately agreed.

So, the next day the two of you started your lessons, twice a week after school and sometimes emergency sessions, just in case Cole needed extra help.

At first, the two started off weird and very quiet, Y/n didn't know how to talk to him, especially because you had feelings for him, not to mention Cole hated the idea of having a tutor, and just studying in general, but as the two got to know each other, they became quite close and started to develop a friendship.

But that all flipped upside down when one day Cole started playfully flirting with Y/n. She found herself falling for more than just his charm and good looks, once she got to know him she saw how sweet and caring he actually was and that he was a lot smarter than he seemed, he's just a 'dumb jock' he worked really hard, and was actually surprisingly good in school, all he had to do was apply himself, which he started doing with the help of you.

About a week and a half ago, it was time for their weekly study session, as usual she came over, and the two went to Cole's room so he could focus, there wasn't a full house, but Danny sat in the living room watching movies while Isaac, Lee and Alex were all outside, the Garcia boys skating and swimming while Alex, quietly read outside, wanting to get some fresh air. 

Their parents had taken the younger kids out of the house so Cole could study, which was something they usually did, they trusted Y/n to be alone with Cole, even though Katherine could tell that Y/n had the hots for Cole. Katherine trusted the girl knowing she was too shy to make a move on him and for some reason, she thought Cole wouldn't try anything with the girl, because when he first found out he was getting a tutor he said and I quote, "Ew, no she's a nerd," he was embarrassed to ruin his reputation but after he got to know the girl he realized that she was so much more than that.

So, the two sat on Cole's bedroom floor as Y/n started helping him with his Algebra homework, but Cole had other plans, he tried to distract the girl from the work, not wanting to study, he played with her hair, hid her pencils when she wasn't looking and even changed the topic multiple times, the girl followed his conversation but then realized what he was doing.

"Cole! you need to focus; this test is 20% of your grade!" the blonde-haired boy groaned in annoyance, rolling over on the floor so he was on his back, Y/n looked at him unamused by his actions, this was a normal thing he did when he didn't want to study, so you were pretty used to it.

Y/n crawled over to the boy, balancing yourself on your knees before sitting down next to him as he laid on the floor, "Cole." Y/n said with a warning tone, "I don't want to study! We've been at it for hours, let's take a break." he suggested, "Fine," Y/n reluctantly agreed with a huff.

"What do you want to do?" Cole didn't answer the question, he just sat up and placed his hands on his knees as he looked around the room. He looked bored, "We could play a game, watch a movie," Y/n listed things not paying attention to what Cole was doing, she looked off outside of his window admiring the view, but that all stopped when she felt him place his hand on her cheek.

Turning her attention to the boy as he gently forced her to look in his direction. His pupils were dilated, and he stared at Y/n, you had his full attention and he had yours, he continued to admire you as you sat there shocked by his actions, wondering where this was going, he started to lean in, at first you thought he was high or drunk, but he seemed perfectly fine.

Y/n quietly gulped, Cole was about to kiss you, your crush since like the 6th grade was about to kiss you and you didn't know what to do or if you should believe it or not. "Cole," you knew you probably just ruined the moment you had to know what was going on, what was happening? was this some type of prank? or was he serious?

"Yeah?" you took a deep breath, "Are you trying to kiss me?" it was an obvious question, really, but you wondered why, "If you'll let me," You looked at him and slowly and slightly nodded, confirming that you didn't mind.

Cole bought his lips to yours, sending butterflies everywhere, you swore you would explode, you had to be dreaming but you seriously didn't want to wake up if you were, it felt too good to be true. You immediately kissed back, but you couldn't pull away, you both continued to kiss until you pulled away.

Cole gave you these eyes, and you could tell he wanted more, you thought that he was probably just horny, and looking for someone to fill the void, but deep down you didn't care, you had been waiting for this moment for a while, to have your first kiss and your first time, and if that meant doing it with Cole Walter, you honestly didn't care.

You stared at him, slowly starting to give in to what he wanted.

You both started kissing again, continuing what you were doing, you started undressing each other, kissing down each other's bodies, it felt good, you were really horny and so was Cole, it was like being drunk, you didn't really know what that felt like because you had never been drunk but you were drunk in love.

You laid under Cole as he started to align himself with you, "Wait." you spoke causing him to stop, "I've never done this before," you told him, "I know, I'll help you," he told her, you nodded as he is started pushing himself inside of you. He didn't move, letting you get used to the feeling.

Y/n moaned at the feeling of him going inside of you, you took deep breaths as you got used to his big figure inside of you. Cole asked if you were okay and if you were ready, you frantically nodded, the pain was insane, it felt like your stomach was on fire but as he started thrusting in and out of you, the pain turned into pleasure and you couldn't help but moan, trying to stay quiet so no one else heard you guys, but it was kind of hard.

(Did I just write that?😨😱)

A few weeks later, Y/n stood outside of the Walter household. You were hesitant, questioning if you should knock or not. You had been seeing Cole because he still needed tutoring, you guys hadn't talked about what happened that day, Y/n was too scared to talk about it and Cole was forced into another relationship with Erin, which was pretty normal, but this wasn't the case.

Y/n took a deep breath before walking up to the door and knocking. You awkwardly stood at the door, you were nervous and scared, and you didn't even know what you would say to him. You were greeted by Katherine who smiled at you, inviting you inside, you awkwardly greeted her back telling her that you needed to speak with Cole, she made small talk with you as George called Cole down which caused you both to cover your ears at the loud yell.

Cole made his way downstairs a few seconds later, at first his tone was tired and annoyed but that all changed when he saw you standing with Katherine in the kitchen, "Oh hey, Y/n," Y/n awkwardly smiled at him, "Hi," you greeted him.

The two adults made their way out of the kitchen when Cole looked with raised eyebrows wondering why they were being weird. "What's up? we don't have a session today," he looked at her confused as he slowly made his way over to you where you leaned against the island with a cup of tea that Katherine placed down for you before she left. 

"Can we go somewhere more... private?" you asked, he nodded and the two of you made your way upstairs to his room. Cole sat down waiting for you to join him, you felt weird and didn't want to sit down but you reluctantly did, trying to get comfortable "So, what's up?" he questioned, you couldn't bear to look him in the eye, your eyes wandered the room before speaking, "We need to talk..." 

[chrlxx]

I’m finally back from shadowban, but did not return empty-handed and brought you some kind of "review" of a historical novel I’ve just read because it was such fun that I can’t help but share it with some educated people and because I love nagging about historical inaccuracies.

🚨SPOILER ALERT🚨

The rest you will find under the cut

The book I’m talking about is Cinq-Mars by de Vigny. This novel was published in 1826 and is centred around the conspiracy of Louis XIII’s last favourite, Marquis de Cinq-Mars, against Cardinal de Richelieu. Cinq-Mars was the first important historical fiction in French and derived much of its popularity at the time from the enormous vogue of the novels of Walter Scott. After 1831, when Victor Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris was published, Vigny was pushed back from the first positions, and his Cinq-Mars was forgotten. At the same time, critics of subsequent eras state that from a purely literary point of view, Cinq-Mars is a much better work than Hugo's novel.

Since Henri d’Effiat is a main character, Vigny portrays him as a hero, a noble man surrounded by scoundrels and therefore doomed. Louis and Richelieu, on the contrary, are negative characters. If you want to get a better understanding of Vigny’s attitude towards them, take Dumas’ interpretation and multiply it, let’s say, by three — after that you will have a proper comprehension of their portrayal. I can’t resist providing one quotation, though: "the tyrant Richelieu, who does not cease to humiliate good old nobility and the parliaments, and to sap the foundations of the edifice upon which the State reposes".

But the biggest meme of this book is Father Joseph. Surprised? Me too. First, his character is so far from reality that it made me want to cry. I happened to read Huxley’s Grey Eminence right before this novel, so the contrast was…prominent. I was ready for many things, but not for Joseph eager to betray and poison Richelieu for a red biretta. Besides, the author does not describe him in a very pleasant way: "The monk looked upon the ground with the stupid eye of some base animal". Second, historical François Leclerc du Tremblay died in December 1638, before the events described in the book began. Lower the curtain.

Since I have already started talking about historical inaccuracies, I will continue with this topic. For some reason, Vigny likes to introduce characters who should be languishing in the Bastille or other prison at that time. The story begins in the summer of 1639 in the chateau of Cinq-Mars’ family. At the farewell dinner on the occasion of Cinq-Mars’ send-off — he is heading to Perpignan (which is under siege) to be introduced to the King — Marshal de Bassompierre is present. Real Bassompierre, however, was arrested back in February 1631, shortly after the "Day of the Dupes", and definitely wouldn’t have been able to participate in the occasion. But his arrest still takes place at the end of the first chapter. Besides, Marshal de Vitry and Duc de Puylaurens, who also appear in the novel, should have been incarcerated by then as well: Vitry was imprisoned in 1637, and Puylaurens — in 1635. The latter, by the way, died in Vincennes the same year, so his presence in the story becomes even more strange…

According to Cinq-Mars, many interesting things happened in 1639; so many that in reality it took circa 10 years. I have already mentioned Bassompierre’s arrest (1631) and the siege of Perpignan, which actually took place in 1641-1642, but this is only a small part. On his way to the King’s camp, Cinq-Mars passes through Loudun, where, surprisingly (or, perhaps, unsurprisingly?), the case of Urbain Grandier is in full swing. I’m not an expert in this particular field and cannot fully judge the accuracy of the events described (yet), but some details are historically correct, and some are definitely not. The most eye-catching is the fact that all this tremendous commotion actually began in 1632 and ended in 1634, not 1639. In a while, after Henri’s arrival to Perpignan, it turns out that Marie de Medici has already died. She was too hasty with this, I must say — it should have happened three years later, in July 1642. There are many many more minor inaccuracies, such as someone saying that the Long Parliament in England is still sitting when its session hasn’t even begun or Louis asking Richelieu why he hates Marie de Medici so much, as if it wasn’t Louis himself who sent her into exile for her constant intrigues. Or the premiere of Mirame, which takes place after the execution of Cinq-Mars, in September 1642, although in fact it was January 1641. Such an abundance of events in such a short time makes me think about how boring my life is.

Speaking of time, its passage in the book is very unique. The first chapter begins in 1639, and the fourteenth chapter with line "we will at once pass over the space of two hundred leagues and the period of two years" suddenly brings us to December 4, 1642. Math? No, never heard about it. What’s more, it is actually the date of Richelieu’s death, but the conspiracy against him hasn’t started yet. Then, the twenty-fifth chapter featuring execution of Cinq-Mars and de Thou begins with words "In the middle of a night of the month of September", but in the original french version the same line sounds like "Au milieu d’une nuit du mois de septembre 1642". One could chalk such strangeness up to misprint and claim that the 4th of December 1642 must be 4th of December 1641 — in that case everything makes sense. However, de Vigny points to December 1642 several times.

What I like most about this book is a list of King’s duties dictated by Richelieu, which, according to the author, has come down to us:

Lovely, isn’t it? The eighth one is definitely my favourite. Frankly speaking, I’d like to be in prime minister’s shoes myself…

Lastly, I would like to mark an amusing detail. In twenty-fourth chapter de Vigny makes an allusion to a famous phrase about six lines ("If you give me six lines written by the hand of the most honest of men, I will find something in them which will hang him"), which is frequently attributed to Richelieu. In Cinq-Mars, though, he says, "For four lines in a man’s handwriting he might be criminally tried".

In any case, this piece of literature is good in its genre and worth reading. If you’re not so familiar with the historical part, you won’t grumble about every single incorrect detail in the conspiracy and will even be able to enjoy the story… But still remember: Cinq-Mars was a bi—