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#Coloring this scene is so so so so so awful. It's so awful. It's just flat out noxious.
calvincell · 3 days
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I’ve been making my way through my 3rd re-listen of the incredible podcast - Batman: The Audio Adventures & just appreciating once more not only how terrifically written it is by showrunner Dennis McNicholas but also incredibly well acted by all of the amazing cast. For any unaware, the podcast is an audio fiction blend of comedy & superhero drama that was previously only an exclusive for HBO MAX subscribers back in 2021 but now both released seasons are freely available on literally every podcast app including on MAX’s own YT Channel itself, no subscription required.
In particular, I love the Harvey Dent moment we get in Season 1 - Episode 6 - “The Whale of Damocles”:
I have to first off praise the inspired creative choice the series makes to give Two-Face the dynamic that his personas are essentially like constantly bickering twin brothers - arguing, name calling & posturing but still inseparable at the end of the day.
In the scene in question, Harvey’s binary obsession has allowed The Penguin to easily lure Dent to his favorite pier on the Gotham Wharf, Pier 2, to prevent a planted bomb from destroying it. Batman arrives soon after as Dent’s desperate search brings him to the most perilous part of the pier. Batman is so earnestly trying to appeal to Harvey to stop that he almost can’t prevent slipping into his Bruce Wayne voice when we then get an excellent memorable moment (@ ~31:50) where we get a glimpse at the tortorus psychosis Harvey is living through:
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Harvey gives this tragic peek into his mind as he extols the awe-inspiring & nightmarish gospel he shares with his violent other half. It’s not only a very well written torrent of mad thoughts but also brilliantly & emotionally performed by Harvey/Two-Face’s VA: Ike Barinholtz. Batinholtz truly makes Harvey sound simultaneously mesmerized, terrified & sorrowful - on the verge of tears as he tells his former friend about the completely fractured way he views the world now & Batman’s actor Jeffrey Wright matches it with his desperate pleas to Harvey’s true self colored by the unflinching compassion he has for Dent.
For how invested the show is in genuinely trying to revive a bit of the Adam West era charm and fun camp & IMO successfully making the show legitimately funny, I believe it’s also equally in touch with the aspects of the franchise exemplified in shows like BTAS ie the darkness of the setting & emotionally resonant tragedy of both Batman himself and the different members within his rogues gallery. The show is not just sharp on a comedic level but also earnestly intriguing & engaging dramatically as well.
I have no doubt sung this show’s praises before but I don’t plan to stop anytime soon because I truly believe that the series is a must listen for every fan of Batman, superheroes & audio fiction/audio dramas generally. From top to bottom, the series is a brilliant production and stands to me personally as amongst the best content within the umbrella of DC Comics at least within the last decade.
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compressedrage · 14 hours
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just watched the Sonic X Shadow Generations: Dark Beginnings Episode 1 (the longest title I've ever heard) and boy do I have THOUGHTS
The title is "Shadow and Maria". You know I'm going to be in shambles by the end of this mini series
The beginning paralleling how Shadow ran with Maria right before her death but their roles are reversed, and nothing's actually wrong someone hold me–
Just Shadow asking what's wrong. Just him being prepared to catch Maria when she collapses. Just how frustrated he is at how they haven't been able to cure her yet. Just... yes.
Maria is excited to see the aurora, both in the Ark and on Earth– stab me in the chest
I am in awe of that fight scene. The effects are so good and it's so fast! I can't wait to go back and appreciate the choreography better.
THE NIGHTMARE SEQUENCE HAS MY ENTIRE SOUL.
Ahem, sorry, I love dream scenes and nightmares and all that fun stuff, and this is done SO WELL. Everything is so eerie and wrong but Shadow can't do anything other than just barely grasp what's happening because he's being thrown from one traumatizing event to another.
He has a Chaos Emerald on his person. I'm not surprised.
HE UPROOTED. A TREE. FROM A STATE OF SLEEP.
And he's off to get answers, oh boy!! I can't wait to see these answers.
And now I get to talk about the animation because oh my gosh. It's so good. Shadow's Chaos powers look insanely good, especially when they're illuminating the darkness around the characters.
The Aurora borealis is absolutely gorgeous, as well as the ensuing explosions. which sounds a little funny but sue me, animated explosions are beautiful.
Again, the speed and artistry of the fight scene is a marvel to see. The colors and lighting are incredible.
I don't think I can name all of the things I love about this animation, but I had an enormous amount of fun watching it. I can't wait to see the next episode! :D
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charmedpruehalliwell · 2 months
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THE X FILES (1993 - 2018) ✰ (5.05) the travelers
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amoural · 5 months
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“I’m sorry, Granger,” he whispered. Her eyes snapped up to him. His fringe had fallen in his face, his eyes still cast down. “I didn’t want…this to happen to you.” — “When What’s Wrong Is Right” by LovesBitca8
very loosely and pg-ified based on LovesBitca8’s “The Auction” AU on AO3, specifically for “When What’s Wrong Is Right” 🥀
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pinkeoni · 1 month
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WILL BYERS IN EVERY EPISODE Episode #304: The Sauna Test
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alpacacare-archive · 11 months
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dad dress-up
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frunbuns · 1 year
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Obsessed w the way they lit Henry in this scene. It's all so soft, and warm, and cozy, and almost dream-like, not to mention that backlighting is so flattering. And the way it lights his hair like he's got this halo as if he's some kind of angel from above. They didn't have to go that hard, but they did. It keeps me up at night.
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gus-dix · 1 year
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been rewatching the anime recently for the first time since i was idk 13 and it’s actually better than i remembered. really disliked it before because of the random stuff they added and changed, also the weird fanservice moments. but it’s not that bad so congrats i guess lol
the comic pages are scenes that exist but rewritten to fit my style (dialogue + focus on a specific feeling)
do not erase the caption, use or rePOST my art (reblog ok)
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lesbiandarvey · 5 months
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i redid this gifset i’m doing like three times to get the coloring right and i still hate it. basically i need to throttle whomever was the gaffer on suits
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CAN WE GET SOME LIGHT IN HERE. MAKES GIFFING REALLY HARD GUYS
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sangre · 1 year
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… which means the absolute is a front for the gods of death and our enemies are chosen of the dead three.
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ferronickel · 2 years
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My job is creating 3D environments for vfx work, so why is making my own 3D environments as background reference for my comic so fucking difficult.
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godtierjune · 1 year
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god has given me danny phantom in support of my semi erotic love for artistic gore
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seumyo · 5 months
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32
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You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 
“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 
You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 
The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?
Really?
He’s calling bull.
“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”
“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?
“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”
“We had a driver—“
“Fuckin’ course—“
“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”
“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”
You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”
He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.
“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.
“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”
“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”
You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.
“What’s this?” 
Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.
“An IC card,” he simply answers.
It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.
“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”
“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”
“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”
“Forget it.”
“Really, Bak—“
“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.
You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—
“What do I do now?”
You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.
“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.
“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”
You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”
Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 
He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.
Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.
“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 
“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.
He scoffs.
“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”
“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”
Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 
An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.
Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.
The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.
“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.
“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”
Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 
A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”
Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.
“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”
“Shut up, I’m not.”
“Jealous?”
“Hah? Why would I be—”
“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.
“Quiet, remember?”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.
He’ll leave it to you to confess.
Then again, you already knew.
Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.
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SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
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nikibogwater · 1 month
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Actually while I'm thinking about it, I just wanna say that the more live-action remakes Disney shlups out like shoveled manure, the more amazed I am that Cinderella (2015) exists. It breaks literally every standard of Disney's LA remakes.
It's not a shot-for-shot remake of the original 1950 animated film, though it does include small references and homages to it, but only when such things can be incorporated organically into the story.
The creators understood and respected the cross-cultural significance of the Cinderella story. They didn't want to "fix" it, or add some wacky twist to it, they just wanted to make the best possible version of the Quintessential Cinderella that they could.
Everything that could be done practically was done practically. The carriage was a real, the horses pulling it were real, and all of the other animals (with the exception of the mice and lizards, since their performance was a lot more involved than the others') were real living animals, the lizard footman and goose carriage driver were wearing prosthetics instead of just having their animal features added in post, the Fairy Godmother's dress had little LED lights sewn into it so that it would actually glow for real, the ballroom set was built by hand and included real chandeliers with more than 2000 total candles that were all actually lit for the scene, and I could go on but you get the point.
There's a ton of attention paid to little details that make the world feel real and lived in. Ella's shoes are always a little scuffed and dirty. Her farm dress is faded and wrinkled. When she breaks down and runs away to the woods, she rides her horse bareback (which, once again, was a thing Lily James actually did, no stunt-double or editing in post), because not only is that something a country girl like her would know how to do, but it also makes sense that with as upset as she is, she wouldn't want to waste time with saddling the horse. When she's dancing with the prince, it's visually obvious that he is leading her and giving her cues because of course Ella wouldn't know the latest ballroom dances, and would need him to guide her through it.
Hey speaking of dancing, y'know what else this movie does that no other LA remake has been allowed to do (at least not to this extent)? ROMANCE. Land sakes alive, this is one of the most unabashedly and yet still tastefully romantic movies I've ever seen. Ella and Kit are just oozing romantic chemistry from the moment they lock eyes for the first time. It all comes down to the fact that these two characters both have the same core values of courage and kindness, which makes their admiration for each other feel grounded and believable. Richard Madden also really sells Kit's feelings for Ella with the way his eyes go all big and soft whenever he looks at her. And don't even get me started on Lily's performance as Ella. Her quiet awe that someone as powerful as the prince loves her. The timidity and fear that she's not really worthy of that. The selfless determination to protect him from her family's cruelty, even if it means she'll never see him again, I'm just-- *banging my fist against the table and screaming into a pillow*
Absolutely god-tier costume design. No notes, I think Sandy Powell's work speaks for itself. Btw, in case you were somehow still wondering, yes, Ella's ballgown is fully practical--those layers upon layers of dreamy silk skirts are real. CG was only used to brighten up the blue color to make her stand out from the crowd more.
Wicked stepmother was allowed to actually be wicked. The movie never tries to make you sympathize with Lady Tremaine, or shift the blame off to someone else. And her villainy is given an extra layer of depth with the reveal that she is a dark reflection of Ella. They've both lost people they loved, but where Ella refused to let her grief get in the way of kindness, Lady Tremaine became utterly consumed by it. She views the death of her first husband as a sort of twisted justification for pursuing all her worst impulses. She despises Ella for her ability to flourish even while enduring terrible suffering, for being everything Lady Tremaine was either unable or flat-out refused to be.
Also Cate Blanchet absolutely SLAYS in this role. Hands-down my favorite portrayal of the wicked stepmother character.
Anyways, TLDR: Cinderella (2015) is the only Disney live-action remake that can justify its own existence and that's because it actively defies everything the LA remakes are today.
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seungcheorry · 3 months
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when seungcheol opens the front door of your house, it seems like everything is upside down. the living room looks like a mess with your daughter's toys all spread out - he was kind of guilty about this, i mean, she didn't really need that many toys to play with.
the kitchen is filled with vegetables all over the counter, kkuma is cutely on two paws as she tries to reach it; if only she was human sized, maybe she could...
and lastly, seungcheol could hear your daughter crying all the way from her bedroom, with your desperate pleas also being heard, asking her to calm down a bit.
"what's wrong?", he asks the moment he steps into the lilac colored bedroom.
"appa~", your daughter runs to him, hugging his legs with all the strength she has.
"hey, baby. why are you crying?"
as seungcheol picks her up, you sigh - half in relief, half in frustration. you really wanted to do something nice for seungcheol, especially when he does so much for you, so you tried your best to make a proper dinner, clean around the house, give kkuma a bath, but all these things are extremely hard when you have an hyperactive 3 years old who's, by the way, the biggest daddy's girl to ever exist.
"she keeps asking for mr. cuddles, but won't accept it when i give it to her", you gesture to the plushie you have on your hand.
"babe... it's because that's not mr. cuddles", seungcheol tries to bite back a laugh. "that's giggly, the tiger plushie soonyoung gave it to her on her last birthday. mr. cuddles is the panda plushie i bought her two months ago, remember?"
seungcheol walks with his daughter hanging on his neck to her closet, opening and reaching for mr. cuddles on the top shelf.
"i put it here this morning because kkuma was trying to get it, i'm sorry", and as he hands the toy to your daughter, you're not really sure who he's talking to, you or her.
"thank you, appa", your daughter kisses his cheek.
"you're welcome, baby girl~"
if you didn't love them so much, with all your heart, forever, to death - you would perhaps roll your eyes at the scene.
"why does she have to be such a daddy's girl? i literally carried her for 9 months!"
"aw, it's okay, babe. you're daddy's girl too."
"seungcheol!", you almost scream, but the bastard just smirks at you.
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a/n: inspired by one of @cxffecoupx's headcanons about dad girl!seungcheol. please check it out, they're amazing. ❤️🍒
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months
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early seasons spencer and bau reader undercover at a club and it’s just like. he is so flustered but also weirdly confident and do with this what you will
in which spencer reid and BAU fem!reader have to pose as a couple at a club. she's more than a little flirty. the conversation actually gets quite suggestive. he's cute when he gets flustered.
warnings/tags: discussions of sex, reader wears a tight dress and makeup and heels, discussions of blushing but r's skin color is not implied to be light, i just needed a reason to talk about sex flush LOL, if u don't visibly blush this will still read fine
a/n: I LOVE EARLY SEASONS SPENCER X FLIRTY READER OH MY GODDD thank you for this request angel from heaven I hope you all like this as much as I do teehee
The bass buzzes through the floor and vibrates your teeth. House music has never really been your thing. Neither have tight dresses and high heels while on the job—but you’re willing to objectify yourself just a little if it will lure yet another loser who likes to chop up young couples into the awaiting arms of the American correctional system. 
Or to the wrong end of Emily's Glock. Whatever comes first.  
You scan the club—it’s not your usual scene, and you can only imagine how Dr. Reid is faring. As far as you can tell this is essentially his nightmare. It’s sensory overload central even for you. 
Your eyes catch on him at the bar, tucked away from the writhing crowd. He’s standing near the end, one arm resting on the surface while the other hand is jammed in his pocket. He seems completely unaware of the several women circling closer and closer. The whole earnest and dorky but still handsome thing seems to work well for him. Or, it would, if he had any interest in utilizing it. He’s dressed a little sharper than usual—no doubt styled by Morgan and Prentiss. Hell, the earnest dorkiness and the well fitted dark suit is working for you if nobody else. 
Sometimes he just looks… edible. 
And self-discipline doesn't always come naturally to you. 
“Doctor,” you purr in greeting, grazing the forearm propped up on the bar with white-tipped nails as you insert yourself in front of him. His fingers twitch under your light touch. 
Spencer doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes sink down your frame, sticking to every highlighted curve like you’re dripping honey. Or maybe he just doesn’t realize that you can see that’s what he’s doing. 
“Hi. You look nice.”
“Aw,” you smile, dulling the salacious edge to your voice, “you didn’t have to say that. Someone’s improvising.”
“I meant it. That dress looks nice on you,” he says, simply, and you hate his specific brand of charm because it’s not intentional. It’s not something he puts on. It comes out of nowhere and always knocks you on your ass when it hits—even in the smallest doses. His eyes narrow and he leans closer. You can feel the energy rippling around him like a force field as he examines you. “You’re wearing more makeup than you normally do.”
“Do you like it? Penelope ordered the wrong shade of blush and gave it to me. Supposedly it’s meant to make me look like I just had an orgasm. I don’t know if I believe it.”
Much to your disappointment, Spencer leans back, scanning the crowd for your target and speaking as if he’s only half-interested. 
“That’s not what you would look like. Sex flush deepens the color of your entire face and chest, not just your cheeks.”
Your brows knit as you contend with unwelcome butterflies. 
“Buy me a drink before you start telling me what I’ll look like after I orgasm.”
That catches his attention, and his suddenly wide eyes snap to you. If he had a drink, he’d be choking on it. 
“I wasn’t—it was a general you, I’d never—that would be inappropriate. It was. It was inappropriate. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
You lean with your back to the bar, elbows propped on black granite, and swing your hair over your shoulder. Spencer’s eyes dart back down to your décolletage and then up to the ceiling like he regrets being born. You smile wickedly. Much better. This is the way God intended for you to interact with Spencer Reid. 
“I’ll consider forgiving you. And I don’t blush. Not when I orgasm, not ever.”
Admittedly, you just want to milk the whole talking about you orgasming thing to see how pink you can make him. It’s not often you’re gifted with an opportunity to be so candid about your sexuality or flirt this unabashedly. But you are supposed to be posing as a couple. Maybe you’re just feeling extra in character. 
Instead of stumbling over his words some more, Spencer smiles with a degree of bemusement like he’s caught you in a white lie. 
His smile is so nice. His teeth are perfect, and his lips—
“Yes you do.”
Always so convinced he’s right, this one. 
It’s annoying. And kind of hot. 
“Uh, I promise you I do not.”
“Everyone blushes. It's a sympathetic nervous system activation response wherein blood rushes to your face. Your blood vessels dilate when you get flustered or anxious. Your face gets hot and your undertone changes.”
You raise your brows. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was challenging you. 
“Yeah? Wanna bet?”
“Actually, no,” he mutters, losing any bravado and casting his eyes downward subserviently. “You have a habit of proving me wrong.”
“That’s right,” you gloat, smiling wide. Someone bumps into you, and you turn around, highly unprofessional insult locked and loaded—but it’s just a drunk girl who apologizes and stumbles off. The encounter does, however, remind you that you’re supposed to be finding a killer. “Do you think this is the best positioning? He might not be able to find us way over here.”
“You think we should move?”
You look back at him and nod, holding your hand out. He looks at it uncertainly. You waggle your fingers and infuse your words with sugar. 
“Oh, come on. I don’t want to lose you. And we’re supposed to look like a couple, remember?”
Gingerly he accepts your hand. His is bigger than you’d have thought. Not nearly as freezing as your own perpetually are. It occurs to you as you grab his hand that his bone structure really is bigger than yours. He’s… tall. He is, at the end of the day, a real life adult man. His presence is palpable behind you and you enjoy the weight of his hand in yours as you tug him through the crowd, perhaps not taking the most direct route through the throng just so you can savor being able to touch him like this for a little longer. 
Miraculously you spot an empty booth and slide into it. It’s a deep alcove, shadowy and secluded at the back. That’s where you settle, against black vinyl, and where you wave at Spencer to join you. 
He lingers at the edge of the table, glancing around at the groups of dancing and drinking young adults. 
“I don’t know. Can you even see the dance floor from back there?”
“Part of it. But I’m sure he’ll be looking in the booths for couples. He’ll come to us.”
Spencer faces you again and sighs ruefully, a begrudging smirk playing at his lips as he slides into the booth and joins you against the back wall. His side is warm against yours. He smells nice. Clean. Almost herbal, like patchouli or vetiver. 
“What? You really hate sitting next to me that much?”
Spencer’s lips part wryly before he speaks, like he almost thought better of it but decided to anyway. 
“I think you just wanted a reason to get me alone and secluded so you can finally accost me.”
Your knees bump. You lean into it. 
“Accost you? That seems harsh,” you pout, leaning toward him clandestinely to undo his top button.
“I don’t see how. You are literally trying to take my clothing off as we speak.”
“I’m just increasing your sex appeal. It’ll be good, trust me. Maybe you’ll even end up taking one of those girls from the bar home. Or—back to the hotel, I should say.”
Spencer covers your fussy hands with his own sweetly, like he can sense the true jealousy simmering underneath the sarcasm, and places them in your lap. The touch lingers.
“Are you always like this?” He murmurs, voice lower than you can recall ever hearing it and twisted into the shape of a smile. 
“Only with you, Dr. Reid. Speaking of, how about you? Do you flirt with many other FBI agents on official business?”
“Just the one. She’s kind of a full-time job.”
“Shut up. I’m basically your babysitter. If anything, I should be paid extra for dealing with you.”
“Attempting to seduce your charge seems like a bad business model. There are definitely some ethical issues there.”
His hands still rest on yours. You lace your fingers with his and speak sweetly, meeting his eyes best you can in the dark. 
“I wasn’t aware I was seducing you. Do you feel seduced?”
He’s the first to look away after a few seconds pass—pulls your hands apart gently, politely arranging them back on your lap. 
“I think you’re incorrigible and a terrible influence. In all honesty, you terrify me and more often than not I walk away from our interactions a little confused.”
You clap a hand to your heart, the bare skin revealed by your low cut dress warm under your fingers. 
“Spencer… that kind of turned me on.”
He just looks at you for a moment, a hint of a smile on his pretty face, long enough to make you feel a bit nervous. 
Then he’s leaning forward, and unconsciously so are you, almost forgetting to breath when you’re practically pressed against him in this booth and he’s whispering so low and sweet into your ear. 
“He’s watching us. Right across the floor, next to the girl in the blue dress. White button up and a leather jacket.” His hand slides over yours, fingers skimming your collarbone in the process as he interlocks your grasp once more. “Keep your hand right here and lean closer. We need to maintain his interest.”
“I don’t think I can lean any closer,” you breathe, hoping it doesn’t register as nervous as it really is. You’re supposed to be the confident one who teases him. “But if you want me to sit on your lap, just ask. I won’t say no.”
He chuckles, too loud to be amorous. It’s clearly genuine. It sounds like the way his reddened cheeks always look. It almost does more for you than the bedroom voice.
“You… you are beyond help. I don’t think you could be appropriate if your life depended on it.”
Slowly you pull back so you can look into his eyes—much closer than you normally have an excuse to. They dart wildly over your face, partially obscured by the dark which cuts shadows deep into the dramatic hollows of his bone structure. He really is so pretty. 
You glance toward the man, who’s pretending not to watch you. When you focus your attention back on Spencer, sliding your hand up the curve of his jaw, you find yourself making a dangerous wish. You find yourself wishing that you didn’t have an audience. That this wasn’t all for show. That neither of you had earpieces in.
His pulse hammers under your little finger, and his lips part slightly as he doesn’t have the wherewithal to not glance at yours. He’s so unaware of how obvious he’s being. It’s cute. 
You run the tips of your fingers through the hair in front of his ear, the one sans bluetooth, pushing it back, before leaning in close once more to whisper. 
“Good thing we’re not going for appropriate. Actually—your hands could stand to wander a little more, Dr. Reid. Let me know if you need me to tell you where to put them.”
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