#Jeffrey spokes

[womeninfictionandirl]

Green Lantern by Jeff Spokes

[afrotumble]

About The Book

From Academy Award-nominee Samuel L. Jackson and Eric Calderon, the team that brought you the Emmy-award-winning, best-selling AFRO SAMURAI comes their next original series-COLD SPACE.

From Academy Award-nominee Samuel L. Jackson and Eric Calderon, the team that brought you the Emmy-award-winning, best-selling AFRO SAMURAI comes their next original series-COLD SPACE. When an on-the-run outlaw crash-lands on a hostile planet on the brink of civil war, he finds himself in the crossfire between two warring factions. But in chaos lies opportunity-because where there's money to be made. A hard-boiled sci-fi action-adventure with covers by Eisner Award-winning artist Dave Johnson and IRREDEEMABLE cover artist Jeffrey Spokes!

[jdms-flat-ass]

GULP GULP GULP i just pulled up at the papi shop on clitmas eve 🤑

[zarophod]

okay will my boys posts be mostly about frenchie? definitely. is he scared of hurting colin? is he scared of being queer? does he have nefarious intentions?? why did he turn the photo over??? so many questions, and i need answers.

[astrophileous]

A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

[lanadelnegan]

The Feeling Was Mutual

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Female Reader

Summary: You and your former friend and co-star, JDM, pick up where you left off years ago when he joins you on set of TWD. Starting with a dinner date and ending with a quickie in the elevator. Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected public sex, heavy touching and kissing, angst, sexual tension, *Jeffrey is single

Requested by anon <3

Your heart thumped in your ears when the RV doors opened and the gorgeous man you hadn't seen in 10 years stepped out. You tried to stay in character, purposely replacing your googly heart eyes with fearful ones. You studied his every move, noting the new silver streaks in his hair and beard. His voice was deeper than you remembered and his waist skinnier, but it was a nice look on him.

For the past decade, you've avoided him, focusing on your acting career and pushing your growing feelings for him aside. Things were different now. You were both more mature and further along in your careers. And single. From what you last heard. Not that you were checking up on him.

"Eeny. Meeny. Miny. Moe."

When the end of the barbed-wire bat came dangerously close to the tip of your nose, your eyes finally locked with his. His smug gaze softened and for a moment, you thought he was about to break character. A grin threatened to tug at the corner of your mouth, but you mentally pushed it aside, breaking eye contact to stare at the ground. His smirk grew wider before he walked away from you, continuing his impressive opening speech.

"Cut. Amazing! Let's take a break." Your fellow actors stood to their feet, wiping the dirt off their knees and laughing amongst each other. You did the same, glancing at Jeffrey across the set before grabbing a drink of water. He was busy getting to know the others as they welcomed him to his first day on set.

Your back was turned away from him as you took a sip of your water. You hated yourself for being this shy in front of him, purposely stalling on greeting him with the rest of the cast. There was a time he was one of your closest friends but now you only saw him on social media, occasionally dropping a comment on one of his new posts and him returning the gesture.

"Not gonna go say hi to the new guy?" Norman teased.

"Eventually. You?"

"Met him earlier. Seems like a nice dude."

"Yeah, he's -"

"Walking over here." Norman said quietly, giving you a subtle heads up. Your eyes widened as he tilted his chin up at Jeffrey. "Man, that was awesome. Making us all look bad." Norman joked, earning a chuckle from the tall man next to you.

Jeffrey's hazel eyes quickly skimmed over you before settling on your own. "Hey stranger."

You rolled your eyes, playing off your ridiculous grin as he brought you in for a hug. You were always attracted to him, but this new him did something to you. He looked taller somehow. More confident.

"You know each other?" Norman asked.

Jeffrey rambled off to Norman about the movies you made together while you half listened, too busy soaking in his handsome features and the way the corner of his mouth tilted slightly when he spoke.

"And then, one day, she just.. ghosted me." He said jokingly, bringing his hand to his chest like it pained him.

You felt heat quickly rise to your cheeks. "I dunno if that's what happened." You said casually, hoping he'd drop it. Of course you weren't that lucky.

"You stopped returning my calls and texts. I'd say that's.. exactly what happened." Jeffrey tilted his head at you, resting his hands loosely on his hips.

"Well, you guys enjoy your reunion." Norman interrupted, patting Jeffrey's shoulder before walking away.

"What the hell was that?"

"Wasn't a lie." He shrugged, sipping his can of coca-cola.

"So that's how it's gonna be? You haven't seen me in a decade and you want to start it like this?"

He made a satisfied sigh, swallowing his drink. "This is awkward because of you, darlin'. Not me."

You scoffed. With his new found confidence, he was also apparently an asshole. You turned to walk away but he was on your heels.

"Y/n, wait."

You ignored the loud sigh he made.

"Y/n. Stop, can we just talk?"

You turned to face him, opening your mouth to say something, but quickly realized how close your face was to his. Your mind wandered back to one of the first scenes you shot with him - a kissing scene that involved lots of heavy touching. As if reading your mind, his eyes dropped to your lips then quickly back to your eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said genuinely. "Let's start over. You look.. really great."

"So do you. I.. I missed you." You stepped back a couple inches, allowing some space between you so others wouldn't stare.

"How about we get dinner tonight and catch up?"

You thought for a moment then nodded slightly. "Okay, yeah. That sounds nice."

Later that night...

You decided to keep it casual and eat at the restaurant at the hotel you were both staying at. This was just a friendly outing after all. You had to remind yourself of that a few times while getting ready, keeping your makeup light and your outfit nice but definitely not overdressed.

Your phone buzzed just as you were stepping off the elevator. Digging it out of your purse, you smiled at the name on the screen. You were surprised his number was still saved. And that he clearly still had yours.

JD: Got us a table outside in the back.

The nickname for him in your phone stuck after the filming of a show you did together. JD Richter. You smiled to yourself as you walked, remembering a particular scene you shot together that consisted of a king-sized bed and his body hovering over yours. His lips exploring your neck and collarbone. It was your favorite scene you ever shot with him, for obvious reasons. Partly because of the kissing, but mostly because of the way he whispered your name in your ear while on top of you. You real name, not your character name - so quietly that only the two of you could hear it. Shortly after that scene, your friendship grew apart and it was all your fault. He was right, you had ghosted him - stupidly. But tonight you'd make up for it.

You made your way through the restaurant, finding the door to the back patio. The sun was starting to disappear, but the patio was outlined in greenery and warm sting lights.

He stood when he saw you, pulling out a chair beside him. "You don't have to pull my chair out. This isn't a date." You half teased as you both settled into your seats.

"So there's no chance I'm getting lucky tonight? Shit. I wore my fancy underwear and everything."

Your laughs echoed across the patio, slowly fading when the waiter finally approached. After ordering a bottle of wine and a couple of appetizers to share, you took turns catching each other up on the past decade of your lives. He had been in two semi-serious relationships, one of which was fairly recent.

"The last one, I thought for awhile she might have been the one, but then it just didn't feel right."

"What happened?" You asked curiously, sipping your wine.

He hesitated for a moment. "When I got the call about the Negan gig... I broke up with her shortly after that."

"Choosing your career over your love life?" You chuckled like the idea was ridiculous.

"Sound familiar?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

Ouch. He was right.

"I deserve that." You nodded, popping a pretzel bite in your mouth. "But.. why after you got the Negan call?"

"I - uh.." He hesitated again. "Knew I was about to see you again."

You blushed, feeling his knee brush against yours underneath the table.

"Look y/n, I know you don't wanna talk about it. But I need to know. Why'd you stop answering my calls?"

You knew that question was coming.

The truth is, you needed to focus on your career. You were barely a known actress at the time, and Jeffrey had already made a name for himself. When you started developing feelings for him, you knew you had to distance yourself. You wanted to be known for your work, not your love life.

"Fine. I.. I had feelings for you. That I didn't want to have." You admitted, ignoring his gaze and taking a bite of chocolate cake you were sharing for dessert.

"You should have told me." He said, casually wiping a dab of icing from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You blushed when he brought it to his own mouth and sucked it off with a quick pop.

"I didn't know if you felt the same way."

"So you preferred never speaking to me again?"

Guilt punched you in the stomach and you felt like the worst person in the world. "No. I made a mistake. And when I realized it, I figured it was too late. You already had a girlfriend." You couldn't believe you were finally saying all of this out loud.

He nodded, deep in thought. "Okay."

"Okay? ...That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say, y/n?” He asked, avoiding eye contact and signing the tab.

That you had feelings for me too. That the feeling was mutual. That I made a mistake and we should have been together.

“It’s getting late, we should probably head back.” You said instead.

The walk back to your rooms was silent with the exception of him asking what floor you were on. You stared at him as he leaned back against the elevator wall, sliding his hands in his jean pockets. He stared back at you and you wondered what he was thinking, but stubbornly, you weren't going to be the one to speak first. When the elevator doors opened, he motioned for you to lead the way, so you did until you came to a stop at your door.

"Well, thanks for dinner. It was nice." You finally spoke, annoyed that you lost at your little silent game.

He nodded. “Yeah. Any time.”

You opened your mouth again to speak but he was already walking away. “JD.” He stopped, looking back at you over his shoulder.

Come inside. Stay with me. Let's do what we should have done a long time ago.

"...goodnight." You said instead.

"Night, y/n." He disappeared down the hall and you drifted into your room, disappointed and frustrated with yourself.

You kicked off your clothes, replacing them with your favorite silky night gown before falling into bed defeatedly. You closed your eyes, still feeling a buzz from the half bottle of wine you finished.

Imagining Jeffrey on top of you and whispering in your ear, your hand slipped between your legs. You easily rubbed your clit, considering your panties were on the floor with your other discarded clothes.

You were growing hotter by the second until your phone chimed from the nightstand. You sighed, picking it up and squinting at the bright screen.

JD: The feeling was mutual.

Your heart flipped at his confession and you jumped out of bed. You didn't bother slipping on shoes as you flung open your door. You took one step around the corner and immediately slammed into his tall figure.

"Oh.. hey.. I was just.." You rambled nervously, suddenly losing your courage.

"Me too." He said, slamming his mouth to yours and pressing you against the carpeted hallway wall.

He tasted like wine and chocolate cake, mixed with a hint of tobacco. The flavor alone enough to make your knees weak. He devoured your mouth and tangled his tongue with yours until you were breathless. Pulling away slightly, his mouth dipped to your neck, tracing his lips against your sensitive flesh. Your hand reached for his hair while the other wrapped around his wrist and guided it towards your soaked center.

He stopped suddenly, pulling away and looking at you. "Fuck, we can't do this." He ran a hand through his tousled hair.

"Oh.." You said, cheeks flushed. "Right.."

"Here. Someone could see us." He clarified. You exhaled a breath of relief as he guided you quickly to your room, placing his hand on your lower back.

"Oh no.." You panicked slightly, realizing your room key was on the other side of your door.

"Fuck. Come on." He led you to the elevator and luckily you didn't have to wait long before the doors opened and you stumbled inside the small space. His lips were on yours again as he clumsily pressed the button to his floor.

"I don't think I can wait another second to be inside of you." He said against your mouth, running his hand up your thigh and feeling your bare pussy. His finger slid through your wetness. "Fuck baby.."

"Then don't." You fumbled with the belt on his jeans. Pressing his forehead to yours, he helped you quickly unbuckle him.

You almost moaned at the sight of his cock when he pulled it free from his pants. He was rock hard and already leaking precum. Before you could admire it any longer, he lifted one of your legs around his hip and held it there, guiding his length to your slick hole. You were so wet and ready for him, you wouldn't be surprised if you were making a puddle all over the elevator floor.

He rubbed the head up and down your slit, coating his cock in your juices before stopping at your entrance.

"If you want to take this slow, we can."

You shook your head no, eager for him to be buried deep in your cunt already.

"You sure? I could take you back to your room.." He whispered in your ear. "And eat this pretty pussy before I fuck it."

"JD.." You almost yelled. "Please just -"

He pushed forward suddenly, entering you hard with one full thrust and stretching your walls perfectly. Your mouth fell open as he pressed fully against you, his cock buried so deep in your cunt it was almost painful. He let out a hoarse groan before sloppily kissing you again.

"Fuck, doll. You feel fuckin' good."

His hips began moving slowly, allowing you to focus on every inch of him. The elevator door opened for a few moments but he didn't stop. Luckily no one was on the other side and it finally closed.

His movements quickened and the moans from both of you filled the small space. You didn't care that someone was probably watching from the other end of the camera in the corner. Or that you could be caught at any moment and end up trending on the internet. You were too focused on each other. At how amazing he felt inside of you, like his cock was made for you.

"Oh god, fuck. I'm-" You couldn't finish your sentence before your pussy clenched around him and your legs shook beneath you. He watched you, his eyelids heavy as he felt his own release coming.

Suddenly the floor felt like it was falling from under you when the elevator started to descend.

"JD.." You said panicked, trying to push him away. But his grip tightened around your thigh and he continued thrusting, faster.

"JD..!"

Jeffrey stilled, letting out a couple of sharp grunts before spilling his load inside of you. "Fuck.. fuck." He pulled out of you quickly, stepping to the other side of the elevator and zipping himself up in his jeans. He held his wrists over his unclasped belt buckle as the doors began to open.

One would never be able to tell you just fucked.

Besides your flushed cheeks.

And his messy hair.

And the handprint on your thigh.

And the heavy breathing.

And-

The doors slowly departed, revealing Norman standing on the other side.

Oh fuck.

He squinted, eyeing you both suspiciously as he grinned, long enough for the doors to begin to close.

"I'll catch the next one." He said before they shut completely.

You couldn't help but giggle. "Oh my god.. you think he knew?"

Jeffrey took a step towards you, placing his hand on your lower back and pulling you towards him. "Probably. Especially if he noticed my cum running down your legs."

[tang3r1n]

still on my shitty dabi kick and i think i struck a chord with @mostlyheinous so here’s random ass shit i think a deadbeat bf dabi would do

18+, hard dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, smoking, forced drinking/taking of drugs, dabi purposely makes you have a bad trip on acid, unprotected sex, anal (referenced plus a thumb in the stink) i’ll add more idfk

kay first off, along the smoke vein, dabi would absolutely threaten to put his cigarettes/blunts out on you if you keep crying (openly, he loves watching you cry all quiet n sniffly)

he’s also no doubt changed you around the apartment with bugs/gross shit just to make you squeal and beg him to put it away

“baby it’s jus’lil beetle~” while waving a fucking 4in long roach he found outside in your face, “gimmie a big, sloppy kiss and i might throw Jeffrey away, as much as it pains me to.”

constantly making you exchange physical/sexual acts for practically basic respect

“show me your pretty tits and i’ll let you go hang with those stupid cunts— no i’m not gonna stop callin’em that, they’re dumb cunts.”

loves making you suck him off right after work, still all musky from the day, his cock even more salty from sweating all day (scent/smell kink is my fav im SORRY.) plugging your nose and jutting his hips out harshly to make you gag and cough around his cock, the sinfully wet noise making him groan out a chuckle as he watched you cringe

any and all attempts to change his behavior end with gaslighting and fake hurt plastered on his face as he breaks your fucking back in bed

“ungh- you’re such a fucking good girl f’me.. i love your, pretty, im so sorry you feel the need to accuse me of such things- god squeeze my dick like that again, fuck yeah- i..uh- gonna make you cum so hard, show y’how this noisy cunt ‘sall mine..”

steals your panties and jacks off with them right fucking in front of you, dick swinging and balls out as he strikes himself with your panties pressed against his face. his bright ass blue eyes piercing into you while he noisily huffs in the smell of your pussy and licks up the crotch of them like the perverted degenerate he is

oh and when you try to break it off, setting him down to explain that he is just..too much.. for you, he goes ballistic.

grabbing you by the hair and dragging you to the bedroom, placing you down still surprisingly softly as he ferociously tears off your clothes and starts eating you out like his life depend on it (idk to him it might, he’s a loser)

once he’s got you all whiny and soft after a few mind-shattering orgasms, he’ll start coping and trying to slip you back into the haze of his glaringly obvious manipulative love

“don’t say stupid fucking shit, pretty, jus’cuz y’on your period or what-the-fuck-ever is going on in that lil head don’t mean you can treat me like this.”

hell chastise you while he fingers you, fingers blurred as he finger-fucks you dizzy, fishing his cock outta his dirty jeans and scoffing as you whine and cry again, shuffling up the bed

he pulls you in again by your ankles, a scarred hand quickly silencing you as it softly pressed against your throat, a silent threat, as he spoke patronizing words to your sex and lust filled mind,

“just be my good angel one more time, pretty,” he forces a crack in his voice, flexing his throat so he sounds tearful and sad, “i just..i love you s’much, wanna show my pretty girl, my everything, how much she means t’me,”

the second you nod he’s grinning manically and flipping you over, forcing his cock into your wet cunt and rabidly humping against your ass, dick barely leaving and inch before pumping right back in as deep as it’d fit.

he’d spit on your other puckered lil hole, making your cry and squirm yet again as he pushes his thumb against it, gut burning with lust and a perverted sense of affection

“no- nononono angel- calm it down, i jus’wanna feel your cute ass ‘round me, promise it’ll just be my thumb— yes pretty i pinky promise

(he ends up cumming in your ass i don’t make the rules mb)

other than failed breakups and gaslighting, dabi also likes getting his pretty wasted

like… really wasted.

dabi’ll give you shit after shot, even making you sit pretty for him while he spits Jack Daniels into your awaiting mouth

he spikes literally all drinks he makes you and it’s so obvious but he just tells you it’s to ‘loosen your bitchy ass up,’ but in his own special, joking tone.

cut to you blowing cum bubbles while you suck him off, completely drunk, head dizzy and body fuzzy as he records you almost mindlessly salivating over him.

“say hi to Shigaraki f’me, pretty, little bastard is gonna love seeing you all horned up and slutty~”

he also shotguns his blunt/pipe/bong hits to you—never lets you hit in your own

dabi loves it if you sit on his lap during this too, a rare domestic scene of you both just vibing and grinding, soft praises and touches that feel unreal coming from him

the he ruins it by slapping your ass and making you cook him dinner

wait i had a funny idea hold on

“babe can we please go see my momma today— it’s just that it’s m’birthday and you made me skip it last year..”

“pretty, that bitch hates my ass, why would we go see someone who hates us?” (notice he says ‘us’ anyways)

[cut to momma glaring at dabi the entire time they’re over and throwing shoes at him once he opens his fucking mouth]

kay that’s all for now ig

wait

sometimes when you’re falling asleep you can hear him obsessively rambling and mumbling abt how much he loves you, how disgusting everyone else alive is, how he’d kill anyone who dared talk to-LOOK at you, how he thinks you’re such a soft, beautiful little thing that he just wants to protect but oh how he fucking loves ruining your angel wings.

[alottiegoingon]

love letters

shauna shipman x fem!reader

summary: the one where reader receives love letters from jeff

warnings: jeff mentioned for plot reasons, jealousy mentions, homoerotic friendship?, shauna is reader's best friend, no crash timeline, fluff but angsty ending, not proofread

find part II here

you thought it was weird when the first thing you saw as soon as you opened your locker was a letter. you weren't exactly the most popular girl ever but you weren't a loner. you were right in the middle.

you blinked rapidly, eyes darting back and forth to the envelope of the size of your hand and to the completely empty hallway. you were the only one in there. judging by the outside, it couldn't be a warning from school or from the book club you went to. it also didn't make sense to be someone bullying you, it was too neat.

you withdrew the paper nestled inside and carefully unfolded it. it wasnt anything professional, just words meticulously written on a notebook paper. you peer through narrowed eyes, attempting to recognize the handwriting but it wasn't like you knew everyone at school so intimately to know how they wrote.

in the small piece of paper, the words "you're always pretty but today you look as stunning and vibrant as a daisy in spring. love, jeff." are written in a sleek, rounded calligraphy, each letter carefully crafted with black pen ink. you feel your heart skip a beat as you read the name signed on the bottom, not believeing your own eyes. coincidentally or not, daisies were your favorite flowers and you couldn't stop thinking about how he knew that.

jeffrey sadecki was one of the popular boys in wiskayok high. almost every girl wanted to be with him while the boys wanted to be him. you weren't one of those girls, though. you despised how all of them would humiliate themselves and change their appearance or lie about their favorite movies or bands just to get attention from the boys. nothing too girly or the boys would laugh about it but nothing too bold or you wouldn't be delicate enough.

one detail caught your attention and brought you back to reality as you were overthinking a simple letter. the way jeff had signed his name was different from the rest of the words. more angular and noticeably larger. maybe he was in a hurry or too nervous, it didn't matter. the important thing now was to tell shauna, your best friend. you slammed the locker door and hid the letter on your pocket, rushing to the wiskayok high soccer field to let her know everything.

now, in terms of knowing someone closely, shauna was at the top of your list. shauna shipman was your best friend since you were in middle school as two twelve years old with awkward music taste, bad haircuts and an embarassing fashion sense. after school, you and shauna would spend hours locked inside your bedroom talking about your celebrity crushes, make fun of the boys after their unsuccessful try to make a move on the popular girl, and devouring an entire carton of bubblegum ice cream, that shauna would always bring to you, while watching movies. shauna wasn't a huge fan of it. it was way too sweet. but it was your favorite after all.

"i think you should pick the flavor next time." you randomly spoke while the two of you were sharing a bed and watching grease from 1978.

your leg was resting against shauna's, the back of your leg gently positioned on top of her knee. it first started as a way to annoy her when you were around fifteen but then it just became a casual thing. shauna would look all tense with a tight face until she felt your warmth.

"why? it's your favorite." shauna's entire face twists in confusion. her eyes immediately fly at you but you were focused on the small tv. inside her mind, in her own little world, nothing was more important than your sudden hate towards ice cream.

"it's too childish. i don't think any other girl on her last year would pick bubblegum ice cream as her favorite." you groan, frustrated.

"that's so stupid, it's just a flavor. and, you know, i think it matches you."

her words made you curious enough to shift your attention away from one of your favorite movies. she seemed to understand your fogginess and explained herself before you could say a word.

"i mean, it's fun and colorful and free of any judgments. it is also the favorite of a lot of kids and kids are way too honest to lie about something. so if they like it, it's because it's really good.. it's unique, i think."

"wow, shauna..." you subtly nod your head in agreement, feeling touched by her words. "you can really compliment an ice cream flavour that much? "you smile as you tease her.

"just shut up and eat your ice cream. you're so annoying."

now, in senior year, pretty much nothing had changed. you would still spend the afternoons after practice with shauna as well as the weekends. shauna was also really smart and would eventually help you with math, literature or english during finals. she was pretty good at it but it didn't surprise you at all; she was always carrying a book around or that super secret journal that you swore she would write on after you fell asleep during sleepovers.

"jeff? wow... are you sure?" shauna immediately looked away from you and made herself busy, forcing her uniform into her bag, at the second she heard his name. shauna wasn't exactly very fond of him as well but she never sounded so lifeless.

"yeah, he signed his name! i guess it could be one of his friends messing around with me but the handwriting is way too pretty for someone who did it as a joke." you sigh. "and he also mentioned a daisy in the letter. that's my favorite flower, shauna!"

shauna was avoiding your eyes at all costs but, for a split second, you saw her eyebrows knit.

"wait, so you're happy with that? i thought you didn't like him." shauna sounds unbothered but you notice how she rub her hands together to brush the sweat off or how she was incessantly adjusting her shirt.

"i don't. boys are stupid." you give her a determined nod to dispel the thought away. "it's just... it feels nice to know that someone cares about me. we've never had a conversation before but somehow he knows about my favorite flower so, i mean..." your voice trails off.

you never thought of yourself as someone who was excited to date boys. the idea of going out on a friday night with a guy never made you burst with joy. you'd rather spend the night with your best friend and have your typical sleepovers or going out for movies. even watching shauna write on her out of reach journal in silence was more interesting. despite shopping together when needed, playing around with clothes by putting them on and running a fashion show, dressing up for a boy and putting makeup on wasn't your thing, whatsoever. it wasn't fun cause shauna wouldn't be there to make you laugh or roll her eyes to hide how her eyes would affectionately get lost on your figure. "i guess he must be really interested on you, then. right?" shauna looks at you for the first time that afternoon but she looks different than usual, offering a strained smile.

[💌]

the next days slipped away from your hands in a blink of an eye. surprisingly, jeff wasn't actually that bad or at least he tried to be a normal nice guy around you.

you remembered how he was actually nervous when you two exchanged a few words and he made sure to let you know that he was responsible for the letter when he asked if you had liked it with a huge cocky smile. at first, you couldn't care less, he was trying too hard. but then the letters kept coming and you finally accepted to go on a date with him.

you went out for the movies and when you felt him pulling that classic move on you by sliding his arm on top of your shoulders, you had to fight against a giggle. shauna would love to laugh at that with you later. then, you stopped by your favorite place; a small family-run dinner that had a great milkshake of your favorite flavour.

"you don't think it's way too childish to be someone's favorite?" you hear jeff's voice fill your ears while you were focused on getting the last drop of the ice cream. you look up at him with a baffled look, not paying attention to whatever he had just said.

"the ice cream. i never dated someone who liked bubblegum."

"oh. yeah..." you feel heat rise to your cheeks and out of nowhere, you began to trip over your words. "it's not my favorite. it's stupid. i was... just trying something different!"

the days turned to weeks and the weeks became months. just like that, you were walking through the hallways of wiskayok high with jeff's arm over your shoulder. you weren't sure if you liked being seen as his property or something silly like that, but a lot of girls would die to be in your place.

you weren't sure if you actually liked him. the most excited part of your date nights was to eat for free and memorize all the idiotic things he had said to gossip about it with shauna later. besides, you could rarely pick the movie or talk about your day. the name "randy walsh" was stuck on your brain thanks to how often jeff would mention him and his funny stories that would actually make you sleepy.

but, again, maybe you just had to try harder.

the letters kept coming almost everyday. and if not everyday, then at least once a week. somehow, always pretty and perfectly rounded letters with his sloppy signed name on the bottom.

[💌]

"i can't wait to read it! people are saying that it's sad but i think it's gonna be great." you were telling shauna about the new stephen king's book that had came out that week; the green mile.

"i think sad is good. people underestimate how great tragedy can be." she casually mumbles, grabbing the carton of ice cream from your desk that you would share before walking to you.

you were about to agree with her when her words cut you at the moment her eyes met the packaging.

"what's that?" she said with a deflated tone.

"ice cream?" you chuckle at her obvious question. usually she would tease you back or give you a snort. but now she decided to ignore your lighthearted words.

"no, i mean the flavor. since when do you like vanilla?" she reads the words vanilla over and over again before looking up at you.

"oh, yeah. i changed. i'm too old for bubblegum now."

"how?"

"just eat it, alright? jeff said vanilla is too boring but i think it's better than being a kid flavor, right?" you giggle, oblivious to her clear annoyance.

shauna's hands close into fists as soon as she practically smashed the carton against the desk. the loud noise made you look at her almost instantly with widen eyes.

"are you okay?" your voice sounded so low-pitched and whispered that shauna almost couldn't hear it.

"are you? we used to laugh about stupid boys and now you are suddenly changing yourself because of jeff? he barely knows how to spell the world embarrass." you notice her voice slowly getting louder.

"this is insane. it's just ice cream, shauna! you are just jealous cause he writes pretty letters for me while you stay home to your pathetic journal." you feel your blood boil as she accuses you of changing because of a fucking boy. you would never.

shauna doesn't say a word and the silence made you realize that, deep down, she was right. her eyes are staring past your soul as she feels your words hit her and it made you regret them after a second.

"i didn't mean tha-" you tried to apologize but she was faster.

"no, you know what? you're right. i spend my friday nights with my pathetic journal but at least i don't pretend to be someone i'm not just to make a boy like me." she takes a step closer and this time her voice is low and tamed. "at least i'm not weak and don't attach myself to the first person who offers just a hint of interest on me cause i'm desperate for attention."

her sharp words sink in, eating you from the inside out. she doesn't seem sorry and you don't feel bad anymore. you feel your jaw clenching and tears were welling up on your eyes while you stand up from your bed, face to face with your best friend.

"fuck you." you struggled to speak through the lump in your throat.

the room got quiet and the sorrow was almost palpable. shauna's pupils were teary, fully dilated and unusually darker, regarded with disappointment. she didn't say a word before leaving your room and shutting the door behind her.

you couldn’t think of anything while collapsing into your bed, sobbing against the pillow, other than how badly you hated vanilla ice cream.

[💌]

barely able to sleep last night, you were distracted by shauna’s words and the fact that this was the first serious fight that you two had ever shared. shauna didn’t talk much about her feelings and would let everything merge together until she was bursting out with anger or a bunch of passive aggressive comments but she was never too harsh on you.

you knew you had to apologize and fix things with her. even though her words weren’t exactly the kindest, she was just worried about you, you thought. you wondered if she liked jeff in secret and was jealous of him even if she had never mentioned him before.

you weren’t sure if she had feelings for jeff but you weren’t sure if you did. he could be a jerk sometimes and definitely too self centered but he made you feel important. he liked you enough to know your favorite food, even though he called it childish, and your favorite movies, that he thought it were too weird for a girl, and your favorite books, that he mentioned how boring they were.

yes, he was decent and overall, compared to the others, he was a nice person. but then, as you were in the bathroom getting ready this morning, you remembered that he wasn’t the first person to ever care

you remembered when shauna showed up at your door once at 3am when you couldn’t sleep, way too worried about finals, with your favorite treats and a book of hers that reminded her of you. or when she spent an entire month learning how to draw daisies because you loved them and she wanted to give you a special handmade gift. a week later, your room was filled with drawings of different sizes of your favorite flower. there was even a small piece taped to the wall of your bathroom right next to the mirror.

then, it occurred to you that, once while watching romeo and juliet late at night, you mentioned how much you loved romantic gestures like receiving letters from the person you loved and shauna mocked you but then, two weeks later, you received one. it was a weird coincidence but it was there, right in front of your eyes.

you were feeling like complete shit when you stopped by your locker, already regretting leaving your bed this morning. you flinch as you see jeff magically appearing behind the small metal door with a huge creepy smile and a small bag in hands.

“i got something for you.” were the words he said before handing you the content from inside the paper bag. you weren’t expecting anything and definitely not after the shitty night you had. you were determined to break up with him but the idea of it vanished as you took a first glance at what your new gift was.

the new stephen king’s book, the green mile, right under your nose. your jaw was almost hitting the floor thanks to the beautiful cover.

“jeff… this is amazing! i’ve been wanting to read this since last week and i couldn’t find it anywhere. thank you!” you had to force your words out, too stunned to speak properly. looking away from the book, you saw how he looked genuinely happy with your reaction.

“it was nothing. i just like paying attention to my girl.” you ignored the smug tone and focused on the book.

jeff didn’t wait any longer for you to finish your appreciation moment and pulled in for a kiss, tightly holding onto your waist. he hugged you right after and while you were resting your head on his shoulder, he was looking at shauna right behind you two.

greeting her from a distance with a satisfied and arrogant grin was his way of saying thank you. shauna resentfully nodded and ignored the feeling of drowning in her own emotions as she watched you leave with his arm around your waist.

quickly, she placed the receipt from the bookstore in her backpack along with her notebook and favorite writing pen before disappearing into the crowded hallway.

[leftistfeminista]

Palestinian coed tortured during her period, just for joining a Leftist student org.

From the Israeli Newspaper Haaretz

Mays Abu Ghosh, who I featured here before, because of her brutal and humiliating torture of being tied in the banana position, while on her menstrual period, and denied menstrual products and underwear. Endured all that torture on the flimsiest of pretenses, even according to the Israeli media.

"Now Mays is in prison and, according to her lawyers and other sources, she has been tortured during her interrogations. The five counts of the indictment against her sound serious and terrifying, but are for the most part revealed as ridiculous when the details are known.

The “unlawful association” that Mays, a fourth-year student in the media department at Bir Zeit University, is accused of belonging to is the left-wing students’ organization, Qutub. Israeli authorities claim that Qutub is affiliated with the outlawed Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, but the student group denies any such connection."

In this article attacking the "Palestine Writes” literary festival at the University of Pennsylvania, she is the 1st "dangerous terrorist" listed, all because she was convicted in an Israeli kangaroo court, even by the standards of the Israeli media, simply for belonging to a leftist student organization. They focus media attention on the Islamists, but this is how leftists and socialists are treated. Intentionally exasperating our natural menstrual pains to intensify our torture is such a depraved level of hatred of women, down to our very biology. And then after all they did to her, they make it as if she victimized Israel.

This is how Mays was tied for 3 days, without sleep, while on her menstrual period, denied tampons or underwear. This is the infamous banana stress position.

“The most severe thing was three days in a row without being allowed to sleep,” Mays, 23, said. “I had to stay in a chair and if I closed my eyes, a soldier would come over and shout at me. I was slapped in the face continuously.”

Mays was forced to stand and bend her knees, with soldiers pressing hard on her shoulders. She had to remain in such painful positions for long stretches of time.

Mays Abu Ghosh seized by Israeli occupation forces

[daisyblog]

Adore You

Our Story Masterlist Summary: How Adore You was made.

Based on this request.

It was another day in the studio for Harry. Mitch, Kid, Tyler and Jeff joining him. Harry and YN were in a strange place since they had bumped into each other in a club in LA, they were texting, calling and FaceTime at any opportunity they could but neither of them had brought up the conversation of what they were. 

“So how’s things with you and YN, man?” Kid asked Harry, as the group were scattered around the studio in his house in LA. The question usually made Harry nervous, his stomach turning at the words. But this time, he felt giddy and his lips threatening to smile. 

With all eyes on him, Harry shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t entirely sure himself but it was looking good for them. They spoke every day, they weren’t putting pressure on themselves but just enjoying the simplicity of whatever was happening between them. 

“Ooo look at that smile….is that a blush?” Mitch began to tease, as he held his guitar in his hand, fingers playing with the strings. 

“Fuck off Mitch!” Harry laughed, still trying not to hide his coy smile. “It’s going good Kid.”.

“Should have seen them the other week in the club…whispering in the corner like a pair of teenagers!” Jeff continued to embarrass Harry, earning a playful eye roll. “I was just surprised they didn’t leave together!”. 

“I’m a respectful man Jeffrey”. Harry bit back, as he grabbed his leather notebook and pen from the black wooden table to the side of him. “Enough about my love life…we have an album to make!”. 

“The album so far is about YN!” Mitch called Harry out, beginning to fiddle with the strings on the instrument he held on his lap. “I bet you have another love song written in there.”.

“Mitch…kindly fuck off!” Harry laughed, the other men joining in, enjoying the banter they all shared. “But have you been snooping through my book?”.

“I just know you too well man!”. Mitch held his hands up in defence, a smug grin on his face. “What this one called? Take me back?”.

Harry’s face held a big grin. “Not quite…it’s called Adore You!”. He announced the new song he had been writing. 

The four men were intrigued to see what Harry had come up with, so far the songs written were hit and they knew this one would be too. “Adore You?”. Tyler questioned, wanting to know more. 

“Yeh…it’s like saying I love you but you’re not at that stage yet.”. Harry tried to explain the meaning behind the song. 

“Let’s hear it man!” Kid instructed, as he fiddled with a few buttons in front of him. 

You don't have to say you love me

I just wanna tell you somethin'

Lately you've been on my mind

Every time Harry spoke to YN the words ‘I love you’ almost slipped out. He didn’t want to say them and YN feel she had to say them back, it’s not what he wanted. YN was always on Harry’s mind. Whatever he was doing or wherever he was, something always reminded him of her. 

Honey 

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Oh, honey 

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

He meant the words he sang. He would do absolutely anything for YN, anything! At the time he had written the lyrics, he didn’t consider how it sounded, but hearing himself sing the words he could hear how it was his way of asking YN to take him back. Let him adore her. Let him love her. 

---

“Did ya have a good time in LA?” Niall asked YN as they sat in his living room, both huddled on his large grey sofa. 

YN smiled as she thought back to her little trip to LA, initially to see Louis and Freddie but still managed to bump into her favourite green eyed person. “I did…it was nice to see Lou and Freddie!”. 

Niall eyed her suspiciously. He’d seen that smile before and it was usually when she wasn’t telling the whole story. “You saw Harry didn’t you?”. 

“Of course I fookin’ did Ni…he’s everywhere I fookin’ go!”. YN answered honestly, crossing her leg over the other. “It’s like how can I forget about him when he’s there and looking so good”. 

“So are you back together? At least tell me you kissed?”. Niall begged. He was one of many that was rooting for them to get back together. 

“No but one more glass of wine and I think I would have.”. Niall’s loud laugh filled the room and a frustrated sigh. “He was a little tipsy too so it’s probably a good thing.”. 

“Did tipsy Harry confess his love? He was always a soppy drunk.”. He was eager to know any juicy details. 

“Not entirely, just kept saying how his Mum thinks I’m the best for him!”. YN’s heart was still full from the words Harry whispered in her ear that night at the club. 

“Aw Anne…what a woman!” Niall beamed. “I might have to call her, ask if she’ll help me play Cupid.”.

YN giggled. “You’ll be glad to know Harry’s coming over in a few days and he’s staying at the house.”. Niall raised his eyebrows suggestively. “And I’m going to tell him I want us to get back together!”. 

“FINALLY!”. Niall’s loud accent echoed through the room. 

---

Like they had planned, Harry had flown over to London for a few days. They had enjoyed a snippet of their old lives. They woke up together, made breakfast together, walked Teddy, laughed at the silliest of things, even FaceTimed their families together. But with Harry flying back to America tomorrow YN was running out of time to confess her feelings. 

“I’ve uh..I’ve written a song and I’d like to play it for you.”. Harry’s voice surprised YN when he appeared with his guitar in hands. But she could sense he was nervous. 

YN was always Harry’s number one fan, so to hear something he had been working on was a privilege to her. “I’d love that!”. Her smile lit up her face. 

Walk in your rainbow paradise 

Strawberry lipstick state of mind 

I get so lost inside your eyes

Would you believe it?

You don't have to say you love me

You don't have to say nothing

You don't have to say you're mine

Honey 

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Oh, honey 

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

Harry didn’t look up once from his fingers strumming the guitar strings. But the minute he finished singing, his eyes found YN’s and was pleasantly surprised to see them shining proudly. 

“That’s such a beautiful song.” YN complimented. She always knew Harry was charming with his words, but when he put them into a song she fell in love even more.

“A beautiful song for a beautiful girl.”. The words effortlessly slipped from Harry’s mouth. Smooth! 

“Just one thing.” YN worked hard to keep her smile at bay. Harry waited patiently wondering what was wrong with the song. “What if I want to say I love you?”.

A cheesy grin formed on both their faces, both relieved that after all this time they both felt the same. “Then I want to hear you say it for the rest of my life.”.

“I love you.” YN brought her hand up to cup his cheek, flutters filled her stomach as she longed to feel his soft lips against hers.

“I love you.”. Harry mimicked her hand and placed his on her cheeks, pulling himself closer to push his lips against her. 

Their lips moved slowly to start, both getting to know one another again. But once the familiarity kicked in, so did their eagerness. Their lips moved messily against each other, both fighting for more. Their hands wandered, Harry’s down to her hips, pull them closer and YN’s found themselves in his curls. 

Pulling apart to catch their breaths, their foreheads stayed connected. “I adore you!”. 

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream @treehouse-mouse

[berzahoes]

you and me | izzy stradlin

summary: no matter what axl told him, izzy could never stop loving you.

an: it’s about time i wrote something for my man izzy <3 not an exact timeline of how things actually went but hey, that’s fanfiction for ya!

warnings: axl rose that should always be a warning

the moment izzy saw you, he swore he was in love. at the time, you were both in high school. he had long hair and beat up shoes that were years old. on the other hand, you were the nicest clothes and shoes while your hair was perfectly cut and brushed. he noticed that you always wore a locket, maybe a family member had given it to you as a present.

you were known as the nicest girl in school. nobody had anything bad to say about you until a certain lead singer saw how in love his friend was with you.

“she’s a prude. why waste your time on her?”

izzy would immediately defend you. “you don’t know her. stop saying shit if you don’t know her.”

it was after your high school graduation that you and izzy began to talk. your family had thrown you a party. as you were helping your mom bring in decorations from her car, izzy just so happened to walk by since your houses were close to each other. you noticed him and waved for him to come over. he couldn’t believe that the most popular girl from high school was about to talk to him.

“hi, jeffrey.” you said in your sweet voice that izzy loved.

“you know my name?” he asked.

“well, yeah. we went to the same elementary school. remember mrs. smith? she wore those big glasses?” you said.

“i remember now and i remember you doing a project about the ocean and you said your favorite animal was a betta fish and some kid made fun of you for liking a fish.” he realized how much information he remembered. was it normal to remember all that? he probably looked like a creep—

“it still is. it’s a pretty fish.”

izzy only nodded.

“do you want to come over later? i’m having a graduation party and i would love for you to come.”

“yeah, thanks. maybe i’ll drop by. i’ve been busy with my band.”

“you’re in a band? that’s cool! what kind of music do you play?”

izzy wished he didn’t even the band, but at the same time, he wanted to share what he loved with you. “it’s just a . . band. you know, rock, we play that.”

“cool, maybe i can come see you guys perform?” you questioned.

“if you don’t mind sitting on a old couch in a garage.” he joked.

“every band starts somewhere, jeff.”

“izzy, i go by izzy.” he was nervous about what you thought about his name. did you like it? did you hate it so much that it made you not want to talk to him ever again?

“well, izzy, i still mean what i said.”

during the party, you introduced izzy to your parents. izzy thought it was a bad idea since most parents took one look at him and instantly thought he looked like trouble. but your parents weren’t that type.

“mom, dad, this is izzy. we went to the same elementary school. he graduated too.” you said as izzy shook hands with your parents.

“nice to meet you, izzy. congratulations on your graduation. any plans for your future?” your mom immediately asked.

“honey, the boy just got out of school. the last thing he wants to do is think about college,” your dad said. “our daughter says she wants to travel for a bit before she goes to college. we told her that as long as she has the money and she’s with someone we trust, she can travel as much as she can.”

then you whisper something into izzy’s ear that had both of your parents wondering. when you finished, izzy chuckled and nodded.

“he let me say this, izzy is actually in a band.” you blurted out.

“a band? that’s great. you know, i was almost in a band once. . .” your dad spoke.

and that was your cue to take izzy someplace else so you ended up in your old treehouse that your dad built. the party was still going on as you and izzy layed on the wooden floor.

“do you want to go to college?” izzy asked.

you sighed. both your parents went to college so they expected you to go as well. but all of you wanted to do was travel. you were born and raised in lafayette, the only time you went out of state was for your cousin’s wedding in georgia that you didn’t remember because you were five years old.

“I don’t know. you know how our teachers always say you have to go to college to get a good job and good money? i don’t think that. i want to go anywhere, everywhere. i don’t need a math degree or read shakespeare,” you explained. “i want to go to los angeles, i want to experience it so bad.”

“then let’s go.” izzy said casually.

“what?” you turned to him.

“let’s go to los angeles, you and me.” he repeated.

“but what about your band?” you asked.

“we were never going to make it out of the garage anyways. maybe los angeles has something for me.”

so after a few weeks, it was decided. you and izzy were going to the city of angels. when you told your parents, they were hesitant, but you reminded them of your dad’s words. they helped you pack and even gave you extra money so you wouldn’t worry.

back at izzy’s house, axl was trying to talk him out of leaving, especially with ‘the prude’ as he nicknamed you. but izzy wasn’t listening to him. he continued packing as axl listed all the reasons why it was a bad idea.

“she’s not going to survive the streets of los angeles, izzy. look at her! she’s going to break and then she’ll come back crying to mommy and daddy.” axl stated.

“she won’t because she’ll have me.” izzy replied.

“then you’re both dead.”

soon, you and izzy were on your way to los angeles. your parents had payed for your plane tickets. when the plane touched down in lax, you smiled at the feeling of being out of indiana.

“you ready?” izzy asked, grabbing your hand.

you nodded. “ready.”

1982

you and izzy now called los angeles your home. it took months of working and saving up money, but you and izzy found a nice small house in a good neighborhood. your parents often called to make sure you were okay. you would sometimes find izzy on the phone with your dad.

when you and izzy arrived to the city of angels, you immediately started looking for a job. a record store owner hired you since the store had just opened and the way only had two employees. it was definitely a dream job for you.

it was a spring break when izzy’s friend, axl, decided to join you and permanently move to los angeles.

“you’re still here?” axl asked you when he saw you walk through the door of your house. he was sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. he definitely took the phrase ‘make yourself at home’ too literally.

“yes, axl, i’m still here. this is my home.” you clarified as you walked towards your and izzy’s shared room. you dropped your purse on the floor then threw yourself on the bed. you were exhausted from work and all you wanted to do was sleep, but of course when axl rose is in your house, sleep is not an option.

“hey, you hungry?” you heard izzy ask from the doorway.

you could smell mac and cheese. “not right now, izzy. my feet hurt, i have a headache and i have the opening shift tomorrow.” you groaned.

“you have to eat something.” izzy encouraged.

“she doesn’t want to eat, let her starve i guess.” axl took the pot of mac and cheese from izzy’s hands so he could eat it.

“what is he still doing here?” you had enough and got up from your bed.

“don’t even start with me, bitch!” you heard axl yell as izzy closed the door to your bedroom.

“i’ll make him leave. he’s only here because we were rehearsing. we got a few gigs coming up. i promise he’ll be gone soon.” izzy assured you.

“he just gets in my nerves.” you sighed.

“i know. but he’ll be gone soon and you and i can continue where we left off this morning.” he started kissing you. then axl happened.

“you guys fucking in there?” he pounded his fists on the door.

“i’m going to fucking kill him.”

[womeninfictionandirl]

Abby by Jeff Spokes

[nerdygaymormon]

A podcast episode was recently released of Sheri Dew interviewing Elder Holland, and part of the episode involved him reacting to his "musket fire" address at BYU from 3 years ago. I responded to his remarks in this post.

I was contacted by a reporter with the Salt Lake Tribune who sent me the following: In a recent interview with Sheri Dew, Elder Holland reflected on the "musket" speech and the response he received from it. I am curious: Are they enough? Are they helpful? And what fallout did you witness/experience at the time and in the wake of the address?

I sent a 3 paragraph response, from which they chose 1 sentence. I knew they wouldn't run my whole response, but I thought I'd share on my blog what I sent.

—————————————————

One thing I hope people understand is that most minorities grow up within a culture that helps give them a sense of solidarity, a group of people that they can go back to, usually their family. There’s a sense that I’m learning to navigate being this particular minority within a larger culture. LGBTQ+ individuals are generally without this support. We have a minority experience that’s different because we generally experience this individually. It's an individual process to try to understand ourselves and our place in society. There is stress involved in recognizing yourself as an identity that separates you as an individual minority within your family and within your religion and your university. This makes queer people, especially those who are younger, vulnerable. It's important for queer individuals to know others like themselves, to find a community where they have a sense of belonging and don't have to hide, to feel hope that the future is gonna be better. We need love, support, guidance, acceptance and affirmations. It's difficult to stop hiding and come out and be authentic about our feelings and our experiences if the messages we get are that you are not wanted, you don't belong.  

Just before Elder Holland spoke to BYU faculty and staff 3 years ago, the president of BYU in Provo announced the creation of the Office of Belonging which aimed to root out prejudice of any kind on campus, and then Elder Holland gave his message that he wanted to stop all the ways queer students have made their presence known—no flag waving or protests or sharing some heartfelt words at graduation, no lighting the Y in Pride colors. That was crushing as it feels like just existing is considered problematic, that we are to remain unseen and unknown.

I know several queer individuals who've met with Elder Holland and they have shared that he is caring, he listened to them and cried with them. He is aware of the hurt and pain they experience in this church. His remarks on the podcast reflect the compassion he showed to my friends. I am glad that he acknowledges his address from 3 years ago at BYU caused a lot of pain to LGBTQ students and members. That was important. I wish that the compassion he feels for the pain of queer students and members would be turned into a desire to want a better place for us at BYU and in the Church. 

[avatar-anna]

Love on Tour: The Documentary, Part 2

we all know harry is working on a documentary, so this is my take on how young dad!harry would approach it!

and now a little key:

bold and italics: camera directions, or what you would be seeing as a viewer of the documentary in person

just italics: interviewer questions, or people who are speaking off camera

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

Part 1 Part 3

In the interview room with Harry.

“There are some pretty heavy songs on Fine Line.”

Harry scratches his chin and looks away from the camera. “Yeah.”

“You’ve said in the past that you write from personal experience. Where did songs like ‘Cherry’ and ‘Falling’ come from?

“Uh...Not the uh…not the best time of my life.”

Cut to Y/n’s interview.

“Harry is…the most hard working person I’ve ever met. He wants to do everything he does with a hundred and ten percent. Almost to a fault, and there—there were moments where I felt like he was choosing his career over his family. You know, once One Direction went on hiatus, I thought things were gonna be different. I thought we would have more time together as a family, but we started falling into the same cycles. Write, promote, tour.”

Cut to Harry.

“Were you choosing your career over family?”

“I know how Y/n felt back then, and we’ve talked about it at length since then,” Harry says. “I think…I think at the time I only knew one way of having a music career and providing for my family, and it worked, so I almost felt like I had to keep that momentum. After the first tour ended, I came home and we spent time together, but…All I’ll say was it was tense.”

Cut to Y/n.

“I often think the pandemic was a blessing in disguise.”

“Really? Why?”

Y/n looks down at her lap before answering. “Because I was done.”

Cut to clips of Harry in Japan and in recording studios with his team.

Harry’s voiceover: “I’d never felt truly alone until we separated. To some it may seem odd because I was touring so much anyway, but I spoke to my family every day. I don’t think a day had ever gone by that I didn’t speak to Y/n. I wanted to give Y/n space, and I felt so lost, so I just kind of…stayed away. It was so hard. All I kept thinking was, ‘I did this. This is my fault.’ I eventually started writing down how I felt, but…yeah. Not something I look back on with pride.”

Back to Harry’s interview.

“Why talk about any of this at all?”

Harry’s eyes are red and watery, as if he had just been crying. “It was part of this whole journey. It wouldn’t be authentic of me to only share the good parts. Fine Line is introspective. It’s an album about high highs and low lows, so it only makes sense to kind of…express what I was going through to make me feel a certain way while writing.”

Cut to Y/n’s interview.

“What was it like to hear Fine Line for the first time?”

“Jeff told me H jetted off to Japan to write songs for the next album, and I didn’t see him until after it was nearly ready to be released. I wanted him to fight for us, but he just left. It solidified for me how much we needed to take a little time apart and figure out what we wanted. I was…resentful going into it. It felt like his music was tearing us apart, and he went to write more. But…”

Y/n wipes a tear from her eye.

“He…He was hurting as much as I was, and I was partially to blame.”

When asked to elaborate about the children during that time, both Harry and Y/n refused to comment.

Cut to an interview with Jeffrey Azoff, Harry’s long time friend and manager.

“I have a lot of respect for the both of them,” Jeff says. “What the two of them went through together, what Y/n endured all those years. Being a parent is hard enough, add everything else they put up with on top of that?”

Jeff shakes his head.

“But Harry went on a huge tour under your management.”

“An error on my part. And his,” he says. “I think we were so excited to start his career, and as a manager who has a client who loves live performances, it felt like a no brainer. I could tell that H was going to be someone explosive in the music industry, and I let that kind of cloud my vision.”

Jeff also reveals that he has since apologized to Y/n and that they are on good terms.

“So how did you go about promotion for Fine Line?”

“It was tricky, you know, because to the outside world, why wouldn’t H be doing all the talk shows and interviews and things like that? To everyone who didn’t know what was going on, he had all the time in the world and no obligations, but that obviously wasn’t the case.”

“Were there ever conversations to reveal his family to the public?”

Cut to Y/n and Harry in an interview room together.

“We talked about our options moving forward,” Harry says. “But we decided the best way to protect the kids’ privacy was if no one knew I had a wife and kids.”

“Definitely not easy,” Y/n says, but not impossible.”

Clips of Harry on various talk shows (Late Late Show, Ellen DeGeneres, Graham Norton) and at the Jingle Bell Ball, and One Night Only at the Forum appear. Some are of him performing, others are of him rehearsing, and one in a green room with Y/n, Simone, and Collette sitting on a couch.

Harry’s voiceover: “We decided on a couple talk show appearances in places where I could drive home afterwards, and longer breaks between tour destinations,” he says. “I was prepared to hold off on the album release so that I could spend more time at home, but Y/n wouldn’t let me.”

Back to Y/n.

“Keeping him from doing what he loves was never the goal,” Y/n says. “I just wanted there to be a balance. The kids were getting older and had more things going on, and I didn’t want their earliest memories of their dad to be that he was gone all the time. H wouldn’t be the same person if he didn’t have his music, but he also wouldn’t be the same without us. I never wanted him to give up his life for us, but things needed to be different.”

“Global lockdown was certainly different.”

She nods. “I think H saw it as an opportunity to…make up for lost time. It was difficult for obvious reasons. Online learning, keeping the kids entertained all day, staying inside, the toilet paper thing, but we’d never been the kind of family that spent so much time under the same roof before. It was strange, but also really nice.”

Back to Harry.

“You know, obviously I was bummed that I put out this album that I was really proud of and couldn’t perform it the way I wanted to, and there were already so many fans who bought tickets. I felt like I was letting them down too. But at the same time, it forced me and Y/n to share common space after so much time apart. I wasn’t about to take that for granted.”

This was all Harry and Y/n were willing to talk about concerning their separation. They did not say how long they were apart or when they officially mended things.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

In another interview room are four children.

“Can you state your name for the interview, please?”

“Simone Styles.”

“Nicoletta Anne Styles.”

“Maeve!”

When the fourth child doesn’t answer, Maeve does it for him.

“And that’s JuJu.”

“No it’s not!”

“Then say your name!”

“My name is Julian.”

“Do you know what your dad does for a living?”

“He travels a lot,” Maeve says. “Sometimes we get to go with him!”

“Daddy sings onstage,” Julian says.

“And on the radio!”

“He’s a musician,” Simone says.

“Do you have a favorite song that your dad sings?”

They all begin to talk over each other.

“I like Adore You!”

“As It Was!”

“Only because you were in it.”

“Baby Shark!”

“I like his One Direction songs,” Collette says.

“So you know who One Direction is?”

“Yeah,” Simone says while the rest nod.

“Simone, do you remember anything about your dad being in One Direction?”

“Not really. But Mom likes to tell stories about all the cool places we got to go together.”

“What is the coolest thing about your dad?”

“Did he tell you to ask us that?” Maeve asks.

The whole crew laughs.

“No, he didn’t.”

“I like when he plays with my toy cars. Sometimes we make a really big racetrack with, like, loops and stuff,” Julian says.

“I like when he plays tea party with me!”

“I like it when Dad picks me up from school early so we can go shopping together,” Simone says.

Back to Harry and Y/n’s shared interview.

“You do what?”

“It was only a couple of times!” Harry says in his defense.

Y/n gives Harry a stern look before she says, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Mmhm.”

Harry looks at the camera. “She does this to scare me. Pretends like everything’s fine and then grills me later.”

Back to the interview with Simone, Collette, Maeve, and Julian.

“What was it like being in lockdown together?”

“It was really fun!” Maeve says.

“We played lots of games and did campouts in the backyard and stuff,” Simone added.

“I learned how to ride a bike!”

Collette tilts her head to the side. “Well, it was mostly fun. When Mom and Maeve got sick it was not so fun.”

“I think Daddy was in over his head,” Julian says.

Cut to Harry and Y/n’s interview.

“I was not ‘in over my head.’ We were fine. Better than fine, even.”

Y/n looks at the camera, clearly amused. “He called me crying several times.”

“How did you and Maeve quarantine while you were sick?”

“We took our bedroom,” Y/n says, gesturing between her and Harry. “And they would bring us meals and everything. I was a little worried because GiGi was only a couple months old, but we made it work.”

“Why were you crying so much, Harry?”

“It wasn’t so much. But…I think we’re all used to having Y/n around, and sometimes Simone and Collette would argue, and Julian missed having Maeve around, and you know, was looking after a newborn during all of it. Y/n is truly the glue that holds this family together.”

“He got really good at braiding my hair!”

Everyone laughs at the little voice off camera, which turns away from Harry and Y/n to where Collette is sitting in a director’s chair. Then the camera swivels back to Harry and Y/n.

“She’s right. I am a master at the French braid.

Cut to a home video of Simone and Collette with Harry filming.

“Welcome to our home!” Simone says. She spreads her arms wide as she presents the front room of the house to the camera.

Both Simone and Collette proceed to give a tour of the whole house. They show a kitchen, a home theater, what they call “Daddy’s office,” which appears to be a converted recording studio, and the twins’ bedroom.

“This is my room. I share it with Simone,” Collette says.

Simone shows off the bedroom, which has white walls with pastel accents. Lots of stuffed animals on two beds with princess canopies and a small sofa. There are two rugs on the floor, a white one with a textured pink and purple smiley face and another white one with an orange pattern. A teddy bear bean bag chair sits by one of the beds. There’s a bay window with a small mattress and curtains with hand-stitched cherries on them. “A project completed by yours truly,” Harry says about the bay window bed. “I’ve become quite the handyman during lockdown. And an interior decorator.”

“Dad!” they both cry.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll keep quiet from now on.”

The “tour” ends in Harry and Y/n’s room, where Y/n lays on the bed. Her belly is big, clearly several months pregnant. She smiles as Simone and Collette approach.

“What’s going on here?” she asks.

“We’re giving a house tour!” Collette says as she jumps on the bed. “This is our last stop.”

“We’re gonna send it to Nana and Auntie Gemma and…”

Simone rattles off all the names they plan to send their video to.

“Wow! And I see you have your own cameraman,” Y/n says.

“He’s good, but we have some notes,” Collette says, and Simone agrees.

“That’s it. No more cameraman. I’m the tickle monster,” Harry says.

Simone and Collette scream and run away, and the video ends shortly after that.

[detachedminxsfics]

Improv

Characters: Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Actress F!Reader

Summary: You just wrapped for the day on the set of The Walking Dead, and you can't stop thinking about your impending first scene with Negan, more importantly, playing Negan's lover.

Word count: 2.6K+

Warnings: NSFW - Vaginal sex, slight rough fuck, creampie, fucking JDM in his Negan fit bc its hot

A/N: Tried something a little different to celebrate 100 followers! I'm so thankful, and eternally grateful for all the continued love on my Negan stuff. Tysm! <3

You idly tapped your feet against the floor as you held the script in your clammy hands, the spot you'd sunk into on the sofa warm with how long you'd been sitting. You'd gone over it a thousand times, and yet still feared that you wouldn't be able to act it as well as you would like. Jeffrey was most likely still out filming one of his many scenes in the Sanctuary, but you were wrapped for the day. Your characters hadn't gotten the opportunity to interact with one another on-screen yet, but tomorrow that was all going to change. The dynamic between you and Negan was intended to leave one hell of a lasting first impression on the fans, and you needed to maintain the hot-blooded chemistry you were so thrilled to portray. You skimmed over your first scene with Jeffrey for the thousandth time when the door to his trailer swung open, and a weathered black cowboy boot stepped in. He was still wearing his Negan outfit, minus the leather gloves and usual wielding of the infamous Lucille. He looked good, and tired, judging by the huff he entered with as he closed the door behind him.

"Hey." Your small mutter to make your presence known faintly startled him, and he spun to face you with a hand hovering over his racing heart.

"Shit darling, you scared me. Everything alright?"

Your lips formed a small smile, and you waved the script around in your hands to accentuate your point.

"Just going over our scene, y'know since we gotta shoot it tomorrow? And I think, I'm just not sure about it."

You and Jeff didn't know each other awfully well, but you'd spoken in passing between takes on the Sanctuary set, and under general introductory circumstances.

"Oh yeah? Talk to me." He set down the script he had been holding before making his way over to you and lowering himself down onto the space beside you, your fingertips still fiddling with the edges of the pages as you gathered the courage to confess your doubts.

"It's just, who Negan loves is so important to his character. And Lucille is so important to him in the comics, and such an iconic centerpiece to his storyline, and I'm just worried I won't be able to portray the love between our characters authentically enough. Like I can't measure up to that."

He listened to every single one of your words attentively, even nodding in places as you spoke. It was reassuring.

"Look, I've seen you act, and I've seen how much of a badass you are. You're gonna be great, I've got no doubt about that. But if you'd like I got a short break between takes, and we could run our lines together. Just to get a feel for the scene."

Your eyes widened slightly, and you glanced down at the script page in your hand. Your character's first scene with Negan is intended to set the tone for their not-so-public and flawed bond, and what the two of them mean to one another behind closed doors, essentially, in a clothes scattered on the bedroom floor kind of way. Nevertheless running through this scene with none other than the man himself would surely calm some of your nerves, and the offer was just too good to resist.

"Sure. Do you wanna stop just after my last line?" The reason you asked was that the moments that followed after your last line of dialogue was a rather steamy sequence of kissing and shoving, the scene set to cut just as you and Jeff hit the mattress, partially nude.

Jeffrey stood to his feet and made his way over to where he'd left his script, making brief eye contact with you as he flipped to the relevant pages.

"I say see what happens, and we'll do whatever feels natural. Sound good?"

"All good to me."

His eyes lowered back to skim the page, and you stood to your feet too, setting your script down on the coffee table considering you already knew your lines off by heart, thanks to your paranoia. After spending a few moments with the script Jeffrey set it down and glanced over at you, an obscure smile on his face.

"I'll walk up, and you just pretend I'm coming in. You ready?"

"Ready."

Your nerves begged to differ as to your level of supposed readiness, but you averted your focus on executing this scene. Jeffrey took a few steps back until he was on the other side of the trailer, and the elaborate shift as he immersed himself into the character was incredible. His jaw was slightly clenched with a signature scowl to match, and the way he sauntered with that leather jacket just demanded attention, it certainly captivated yours. You were sure you had gotten into character now too, feeling as you shifted the weight from one leg to the other, flexing your hip as you stood. She was bold with a firecracker attitude to match, so it was no surprise Negan was drawn to her.

"Honey, I'm home." Jeff bellowed with that noticeable drawl to his voice, and a wide unnerving smile to match.

"What do you want, Negan? You've had me standing in here longer than I ought to be, like one of your damn wives."

He feigned offense from your displeased tone, every step bringing him closer and closer.

"Well hell, aren't you just happy to see little ol' me? You're a busy woman these days."

You rolled your eyes a little at Negan's blatant self-flattery.

"I'm busy because I've got a duty to do, a job you tasked me with. If you don't like not seeing me that much, get somebody else to run my damn post." You narrowed your eyes to pair with the slight venom laced in your tone, and he closed most of the distance that was left between you.

He was invading what was left of your space now, his smile still lingering on his lips as he exhaled a mock, surprised breath at your rather brash words.

"Oh, what a big mouth on you sweetheart. If you keep forgetting exactly where you stand I might just take your suggestion on board, it would seem you've forgotten your manners."

Jeff swept a stray strand of hair behind your ear as he chastised you for your curt attitude, and you had to redirect your focus back to continue with the scene. That wasn't scripted, and you felt as though it was just a taste of the kind of improv an actor as experienced as Jeffrey would be accustomed to, and it exhilarated you.

"Not forgotten, I'm just sparing with them. Besides, we both know that if you're gonna take shit from anybody, it's me."

The slight clenching of his jaw showed that you were pushing him, urging him into toeing the line of his limits with you. He softly cups the line of your jaw, his thumb resting against your chin. Another non-scripted gesture that made the attraction between the two that much more believable.

"Alright, let's cut the bullshit, shall we? Rick the prick and his band of dickless assholes are proving to be more of a handful than we thought. I've mellowed him out a little, but I need someone I can trust back here, someone to hold the line while I deal with it. And as much as I love Simon, well, he's just not the man for this kinda gig. This is a job for my girl."

You subtly softened your stare, leaning into his touch. Though she could be a hardened, callous woman, she had a soft spot for him. It was important that the viewers could see that, could see that she had weak spots. More importantly, just to see them be vulnerable with one another.

"Your girl, hm? There's a room down the hall with six other girls that are yours too, what's supposed to make me believe I'm so different?" She was teasing him, testing the waters and gauging the level of his commitment to their secret love affair.

You kept your panic internal when you realised you uttered your last words, your features still as relaxed as they had been throughout. Jeff was thoughtful too, the whirl of thought taking place in his eyes. And though you barely knew each other enough for this kind of level of expression fuelled telepathy, you read him anyway. His eyes were wondering whether you were comfortable going ahead, and your slow lean toward his face was your answer. He responded rather fluently, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was meant to be tame and yet hungry, starved, and full. Your eyes fluttered closed, and the feeling of a hand gripping your hip to further pull you in made you all the more eager. Jeff was a good kisser, a real slow and rhythmic kind of guy. Your arms wrapped around his neck just as the script had prompted, and the movements of your mouths lasted a lot longer than you ought to. He placed his other hand on your hip to draw you towards the wall of the trailer and slam you back against it, pressing his chest against yours, positively trapping you. It was when his fingers played with the hem of your lace trim tank top that you realised you weren't acting anymore, and truthfully, you weren't sure you minded. His mouth was on your neck, his teeth making diligent heated nips at your skin, mindful of the fact that you couldn't have any marks showing for the filming of the show. You breathed a shaky, hesitant moan, and Jeff pulled back to yank your top over your head. When he leaned back in to press his lips against yours you gently placed a hand on his shoulder to halt him, and he glanced at you with a mixture of confusion and longing.

"You forgot your line." You hummed teasingly, tilting your head as you playfully chastised him for his mistake.

Jeffrey grinned at you, the lust having corrupted his gaze conveying his true lack of care for continuing with the scene, and that he surely was no longer pretending.

"Whoops, fuck it." He muttered with a sense of impulsivity, and the next thing you knew, your feet were no longer touching the ground.

He lifted you, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist whilst the grip on the underside of your thighs supported your body. The trip to the sofa was brief and rushed, and you fell into the inviting cushions a lot sooner than you thought. Jeffrey was on you in seconds, so fast that you feared you'd forget to breathe. His fingers clambered for the zipper of his black leather jacket, but your words interrupted him.

"Wait. Keep it on, I like it."

Your confession had him raising his brows, a staggered look in his eye as he fiddled with his belt.

"Sure can do, we just can't make a mess of it." He said matter of factly, pulling his now undid belt through the belt loops, and slinging it onto the ground.

You too undid your pants, pulling and shimmying your jeans off until they'd gathered at your calves. You kicked them off, and your panties were discarded shortly thereafter. You were bare besides your bra, totally exposed. When you glanced up at Jeff he'd pulled his boxers down just enough to free himself, his pants still on just in case he was suddenly called to set. You spread your legs to make adequate space for him, and he was more than happy to oblige. He settled into the space you made, placing a hand on your waist as he leaned down to hover over you, the smell of leather and expensive cologne wafting past your nose. Then you felt him, easing in at first, pacing you. Your mouth fell open as your breath hitched, and an embarrassingly breathy moan followed suit. The hand on your hip slightly clenched, gripping you, whilst the other got lost in your hair, sifting through the strands as he eased you through the onslaught of pleasure.

"God, you're so good."

His praise only made you that much more wanton, and his low groans filled your ears afterward. You were in heaven. He was the perfect scene partner, your undeniable chemistry was off the charts, and he was insanely skilled with your body too, something to which you were currently discovering. Jeffrey's thrusts grew harder, faster, a more brutally unforgiving pace as he bottomed you out entirely. His touch was merciless, and your wild and primitive whimpers were positively matched with the way his hips hungrily connected with yours. Your lips smashed together, thankfully muffling some of your noisy and earnest moans. Everything was just bliss. He tasted so good, and he felt incredible. It was as though he knew every inch of your body, and treated it as such. You were intoxicated with him, and the heat pooling in your abdomen only intensified with every thrust. When you could no longer restrain yourself you let go, his lips parting from yours enough to break the kiss but remain brushing, eyes wholeheartedly focused on you as you quivered beneath him. Your rather vocal and intense release was enough to tip him over the edge himself, and he filled you. His throaty groans filled the trailer again, filthy sounds that he hardly made any effort to stifle. You were utterly dazed, still coming down from your high when he lifted you from your place on the sofa in order to turn you towards him, and to lay the back of your head down across his lap. He'd adjusted his pants back to their presentable state, leaving you still nude, panting and splayed across him, but you didn't mind. One hand still stroked through your strands, the other idly planted just below your chest.

"Well, it would seem you've got nothing to worry about when it comes to authenticity. You are beautiful."

Your eyes lit up, and a small smile played on your lips. You parted your lips to respond when a knock on the door of the trailer startled you both, and the sudden sound of a voice from the other side of it.

"Jeffrey, you're needed on set."

A woman politely informed, and he attempted to suppress the disappointment threatening to trace his response.

"Got it, just give me a minute." He called back, a short silence ensuing as the sound of progressively distant footsteps eventually resumed your privacy.

He glanced down at you with a hint of irritation, not at you, but at the situation. He wanted to stay here with you a little longer, at least long enough to make sure you were okay, and to not make it seem so sleazy. But he couldn't. Feeling that he was about to stand up you leaned up, straightening your back as you sat up, and gave him the space necessary to stand. He stood to his feet and smoothed a hand over his somewhat messy hair, the slick that he'd been styled in having gotten ruffled during your spontaneous improv.

"Listen, I'm gonna be shooting through the night, but I've got a room at a hotel not too far from here, same hotel all the others are staying at. It's room 100. Let yourself in, get comfortable, and I'll see you there."

He finished his more demand than a request by rummaging through his pocket until eventually retrieving a set of keys, and he tossed them at you. You caught it with a smile, and you gazed back at him, top teeth dragging flirtatiously against your bottom lip.

"I'll be there." You responded with the hope that you didn't sound too desperate in your enthusiasm, and he took off.

Running your lines with him wasn't such a bad idea after all.