#NO BUT DURING WALTERS FIGHT

[shirine0]

shitty funny gamer comic 2012 core doodle because yayyy vinesauce vinny is finally playing sh4

[avirxy]

Since Claire's the Trollhunter in First Frost how do her and Strickler's interactions go after she finds out he's a Changeling, or sorta Changeling, like does she go after him straight away or tell her friends? Because they almost never interacted in Trollhunters.

I’ve actually thought about this because I don’t think they ever really did interact at least not after he was outed as a changeling, even when she was possessed, which is so strange.

But she connects the pieces after the Grit Shaka incident and they get the Gumm Gumm totem off another one of the kids. Jim still has no idea, neither does Barbara.

Claire does confront him alone, a very Claire move, out of blue and Strickler isn’t surprised, he drops the ball that he knows she’s cursed, but he still isn’t aware she’s the Trollhunter which comes back to bite him exponentially not long after.

I’ve got most of it blocked out and man, they’re both really cunning, and natural thinkers, the dialogue gets so snippy. And here he knows exactly where to antagonize, her strained relationship with her mom, being cursed, her little brother in the darklands, she almost goes after him right then and there for that comment. But the interaction happens in a public place so she can’t exactly get away with beating her history teacher to a pulp without running the high risk of getting hauled to the station.

Claire does actually end up telling the other kids about Strickler after she confronts him, the only reason she didn’t immediately is because one, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure and two, Jim and Barbara.

The dinner goes down a lot differently afterwards, because Strickler assumes the Trollhunter is actually Jim still, he isn’t expecting to get sacked by 5’5 of fury from the basement nor Draal more so later.

[alucardsathomewife]

Just finished Hellsing Ultimate last night

Spoilers will be in the tags

[kaliarda]

Paola Revenioti: The Greek transgender activist on blowing up sexual taboos in the name of art

During the 80s, transgender Greek artist and prostitute Paola Revenioti published the trans-anarchist fanzine Kraximo. Funded by her own prostitution, the zine pioneered the fight for gay and trans rights, combining interviews with Greek poets and intellectuals alongside Athens street hustlers and her own photography, since compared to the work of Larry Clark and Walter Pfeiffer. Today she continues to work as an artist and activist, making Athens-based documentaries with her "Paola Projects."

[real-escape-room-quotes]

So I started a fake sword fight with someone as their group got out and she was funny because she, a girl I don’t know, put me in a fake head lock to ‘stab’ me and when I restarted the fight and lost again a minute later I asked why she acted like my friends  “Because I’m your friends but younger” I mean Fair, you aren’t wrong 

[mckitterick]

Christofascist Republican calls LGBTQ people "filth" during public forum

The culture of hate among Christofascists recently led to the violent beating and subsequent death of Choctaw two-spirit teenager Nex Benedict in Oklahoma.

When questioned about how 50+ anti-LGBTQ bills might have affected this case, State Senator Tom Woods said,

“We are a Republican state - supermajority - in the House and Senate. I represent a constituency that doesn’t want that filth in Oklahoma.”

Several audience members clapped at his statement, while others appeared shocked.

“We are a religious state and we are going to fight it to keep that filth out of the state of Oklahoma because we are a Christian state - we are a moral state,” Woods said. “We want to ... let people be able to go to the faith they choose. We are a Republican state and I’m going to vote my district, and I’m going to vote my values, and we don’t want that in the state of Oklahoma.”

State Representative David Hardin added, “How you live your life personally, that’s between you and God... but what goes through our public schools - I will fall back on my faith. I want to make sure that at least the children in our public schools have that faith... what I want to make sure of is that our young children have the right to grow up with that faith."

After the forum, Woods reiterated his stance on the matter: "I support my constituency, and like I said, we’re a Christian state, and we are tired of having that shoved down our throat at every turn... I stand behind my statement, and I stand behind the Republican Party values."

When asked what he thought of Woods’ characterization of LGBTQ people as “filth,” State Senator Dewayne Pemberton said, “No comment.”

Again and again, today's christofascist Republicans (any other sort doesn't get elected these days) reveal that they want to indoctrinate public school kids into their own bigoted hatred, forcing children to hate anyone who doesn't subscribe to their narrow interpretation of their religious texts. Christofascists seek to impose their personal, misguided religious biases on the general public, including creating laws codifying hate and authoritarian control over the lives and bodies of everyone, not just others in their own religion.

Make no mistake, Nex Benedict's death was caused by christofascist indoctrination of the three girls who brutally beat Nex in that school bathroom. Nex Benedict's death was caused by the school failing to take their injuries seriously, by hate codified in Oklahoma state laws designed to harass LGBTQ folks and normalize bigotry against them, by Oklahoma Superintendent of Public Instruction Ryan Walters appointing hate-speech villain Chaya Raichik (responsible for "Libs of TikTok") to the Oklahoma Department of Education's Library Media Advisory Committee even though she doesn't live in the state (but he likes that she used Benedict's school and teacher for targeted hate). And on and on - it's a systematic attack on personal freedom and human rights - and the lives of queer folks.

Nex Benedict's death is exactly what christofascists seek through indoctrinating children into their hate that perpetuates bigotry into the future and forcing their religious fanaticism into the public sphere through unconstitutional laws built on hate and control.

Do you want to live in a theocracy dictated by those who narrowly interpret their personal religious texts to promote hate? Because as long as citizens fail to speak out against these harbingers of civilizational collapse, they'll only feel more and more emboldened to turn hate crimes into victories.

We must not let another of our people become victim of systemic bigotry. To protect children and end generational indoctrination, we must fire all public officials who subscribe to christofascist hatred and, when appropriate, prosecute them for the violence they incite.

If we fail to end the careers of hateful christofascists, we fail our children.

[toskarin]

one underappreciated feature of hellsing is that there are context clues throughout that the poses aren't just there for the stage direction, but are to be understood as something the characters are actually doing because they're all so flamboyant

it doesn't like, ever really come up, but it's striking when you realise that alucard is doing parodies of walter's poses during their fight, because he's making fun of him. he's even squeezing his hands around invisible wires

[asifyoudidntknow]

All Time Favs

I began reading fanfic in my teens during the original run of the show. There were lonnng breaks from it, but coming back to the fandom in 2017 reignited my interest. I now keep a spreadsheet as well as a "to read" list. I already have almost 600 logged (not including 5 years), so I wanted to share my top favorites. Divided into my 4 favorite genres (AU, casefic, angst + romance, and smut + romance) and in no particular order...

*Alternate Universe*

I used to wonder why someone would choose to read AU. Then I read one of these and was completely blown away.

Katherine of Ireland by Jenna Tooms (gossamer)

Katherine, princess of Ireland is married to Walter, king of Angora. When Walter is killed during battle, Katherine is taken by the enemy, FitzJames. William is FitzJames right hand. When FitzJames orders her to be beaten (even after discovering her pregnancy) William devises a plan to save her, heal her and get her back to Ireland. Will William always be seen as the enemy or will Katherine come to see him for who he truly is?

By the dim and flaring lamps by @sunflowerseedsandscience (ao3)

Civil war AU’s are my jam and this was one of the first ones I read.  When Mulder discovers (disguised boy) Scully bathing in a waterfall by darkness and realizes what he is dealing with will remain etched in my brain forever.

In darkness by DKSculder (ao3)

What if Scully was married to Daniel?  What if Daniel was a serial killer?  What if Mulder was a VCU agent still?   This is an unfinished work, but the idea is unlike any other I’ve come across.

Blinded by the white light by DashaK (ao3)

Need I say more?  When Mulder and Scully find each other after colonization, will they remember each other and will they act on it?

The second side of light by @scapegrace74-blog (ao3)

Oregon Trail.  Mulder is leading scully and Melissa across the trail when Melissa dies.  They end up getting very close to one another on the journey.

Paracelsus by profuckslove (ao3)

Another amazing civil war AU.  When Mulder goes looking for his lost son and comes across a pregnant scully what will happen to them?

Hiareth by profuckslove (gossamer)

Wales 1215.  Scully escapes the king by marrying Mulder, the prince of wales.  Marriage leads to love and fighting off dangerous men.

Paracosm by @softnow (ao3)

This is an unfinished work.  College AU.  Mulder has a crush on the library girl, will she return his advances?

A companion unobtrusive by @slippinmickeys (ao3)

A college AU where scully is looking for a roommate and Mulder is looking for a room.  Melissa introduces them and the rest is history.

Qui Si by Trixie (gossamer)

After accepting an offer from a gypsy to go back to a life with Samantha in it, Mulder, a child psychologist, helps Scully, a PhD, get over her past.

You he did not fail by extraordinarily_ordinary (ao3)

Scully abruptly leaves TXF after surviving cancer and moves to LA to start anew.  She is dating when Mulder is assigned as a profiler to a case she is working and they have to deal with things left undealt with.

Five years and a lifetime by @monikafilefan (ao3)

Mulder is a Peds psychiatrist. Scully is a Peds neurologist. They meet at a conference and have a one night stand.  What happens when they come to work together 5 years later and Scully is a single mom?

Amish country by lolabeegood (gossamer)

Mulder and Scully go undercover in Amish country trying to catch a serial rapist while navigating very traditional values and roles.

You and me by lolabeegood (gossamer)

Mulder leaves his wealthy parents to serve under Scully’s father in the military.  In order for her to stay safe, fed, and clothed she needs to marry.

The mountain man by aka Jake (gossamer)

Scully is sent from nyc (where she was becoming a doctor) to Montana at her father’s wishes.  He wants her to marry a lieutenant under his command and not practice medicine, but she becomes intrigued with a local mountain man.

The countess/the earl by @slippinmickeys (ao3)

When scully is to be married to an old duke in order to save her family from financial ruin, a strange, alluring earl steps in to save her.

*Case*

There is nothing quite like a casefic. It's classic x-files and I am here for it. Writers in this fandom are so talented with their abilities to create a fic that rivals/trumps actual episodes.

Perchitor by @aloysiavirgata (ao3)

A little girl goes missing in the mountains with the superstition of Jenny Greenteeth to blame.  Mulder and Scully investigate while navigating a new physical relationship.

Omens by @lepus-arcticus (ao3)

I read this one as a WIP and was anxiously checking for an update every night.  There were several lines in this fic that made me gasp.  Cancer arc angst. Give me it alllll.

XII by fragilevixen (ao3)

A killer that romanticizes every victim.  His next target?  Guess who.  *coughSCULLYcough*

Hearts desire by malibusunset (ao3)

While in a small town scully runs into an old BF and starts wondering why she doesn’t prioritize her dating.  She decides to go for it.  The author makes me like Scully’s old flame.  That says something.  When the MSR convo finally does come, I thought I’d die from the slow burn.

Resurgam by opheila_interrupted (ao3)

One of the most xfiles like cases I have ever read.  Remains unsolved at the end and has our agents investigating ghosts near Mulder’s hometown while dealing with their own (Emily & Teena).

Universal invariants/laws of motion by @syntax6

Scully is engaged to Ethan throughout the first season while her and Mulder’s relationship is deepening and then consummated right before she is abducted.  How do two guys in love handle Scully’s abduction and what happens when she is returned?  

All the way home/head over heels by @syntax6

Mulder is pulled into a past unsolved VCU case of a killer with a shoe fetish while navigating a new physical relationship with scully.  When scully is targeted, Mulder has to gamble with his personal feelings while working to find the killer.

Queens gambit by Suzanne Schramm (gossamer)

Under Kersh, Mulder and Scully are assigned to a VCU case Mulder worked in Utah in 89’.  The killer was put to death and then revenge began.  Local mines and children involved.

*angst + romance*

This is my crux. Angst in any way, shape, or form. Add in some slow burn/ust and finally the rst *chefs kiss* particularly fond of Ethan fics and cancer arc.

Contact high by penumbra (gossamer)

Still feeling the residual effects of the spores post field trip, our agents try out Mulder’s new waterbed.

Early on by @sunflowerseedsandscience (ao3)

10 vignettes set during season 1.  Our baby agents are becoming close, but Ethan is still around.  How does scully navigate her relationship with Ethan while working with Mulder?

Center Mass by @kateyes224 (ao3)

Another Ethan fic set in season 1.  Mulder and Scully make an effort to get to know one another… in more ways than one.  And when Mulder gets aroused at Scully’s marksmanship it’s all over for me. 

One blue line by sarie_fairy (ao3)

IVF arc.  Scully is defeated by a negative pregnancy test.  When Mulder tries to comfort her, she suggests having sex.  I just remember wondering if I was reading or actually doing the act myself considering how detailed it was.

Salt by anjou (gossamer)

I remember reading this and being like WTF is happening to only have it all make sense at the end leaving me speechless.

Triptych by @iconicscullyoutfits (ao3)

My favorite FTF, post bee, how the f*ck did they get out of anarctica fic.

Snowbound by malibusunset (gossamer)

After missing their flight and being snowed in their rental on the side of the road, discussions lead to their relationship.  Once they’re recused they are put up in an inn with 1 room.  Dun, dun, dunnnn.

The ache by @storybycorey (ao3)

1999 Mulder has a visit with 2015 Mulder to urge him to get help with his depression and not lose scully.

Love bites by living_underground (ao3)

A review of vampirism cases throughout the years.  Hickeys from Ed.  Love bites from Mulder.

Goshen by bonetree (ao3)

Mulder and Scully are in a car accident where their car can’t be seen.  Major injuries lead to near death experiences and visions of Emily.

All that our senses can perceive by wonderland (ao3)

Mulder’s POV looking over Scully’s transformation from girl to woman and how all of his senses perceive her.

Caught in the Act I by parrotfish (gossamer)

Although the whole series is amazing, the first part is my favorite.  I love when scully lays into the review panel about being sexist.

The things she carries by @edierone (ao3)

One of my favorite cancer arc fics.  When Mulder confronts Scully 3 years later on the porch I literally stopped breathing.

Red valerian series by dashakay (ao3)

Scully looks to skinner for comfort during a grueling case, starting a 6 month affair.  Will scully ever love him or will the buried truth prevail?

Sex and Loathing by malibusunset (ao3)

Scully takes a drunk Mulder home after Roche.  He makes a move and they have terrible sex.  After 2 years of poking at each other they face things head on after Mulder almost dies in PBV.

Snakebitten by @onpaperfirst (ao3)

Set throughout season 5.  My favorite season. Say no more.

Five years and one night by Shalimar (gossamer)

When Scully transfers to LA and Mulder finds more babies like Emily, can they work together again to get to the bottom of this conspiracy?

The letter by Shalimar (gossamer)

Post TFWID, scully goes searching for more clues to her and Mulder’s past lives when she comes across a letter in a local Apison museum she sent to Mulder.

*smut + romance*

It's hard to have just smut when it comes to MSR, am I right? these two idiots are so in love that my smut category must also be romantic.

Undercover swing by 2momsmakearight (ao3)

What if Mulder and Scully go undercover as a married couple interested in swinging?  Can they both keep their jealously in check?  

Be kind, rewind by OnlyTheInevitable (ao3)

To help catch a suspect, skinner requests our agents watch porn together.  While watching, conversation leads to critiques about the performance and comments about personal preferences.

Girl 77 by mojo

A stripper is found dead with Mulder’s card on her.  She looks exactly like Scully.  Scully notices and confronts Mulder about it.

Dropped call series by @phillippadgettwrites (ao3)

Phone sex, but make it “not them”

December 31, 1984 by @phillippadgettwrites (ao3)

When Mulder saves an unimpressed scully from some jerk on NYE, they end up at her apartment having a one night stand.

Damsels by @sisterspooky1013 (ao3)

Scully is sent undercover as a stripper to find a missing woman.  Mulder is kept in the dark regarding her case, but pieces together where she is and what she’s doing and sets out to find her.

The Shirt by Audrey Roget (gossamer)

Skinner reconciles with Sharon leading to a vow renewal celebration. Skinner asks mulder and Scully to stand with him as his best agents. After slow dancing together, mulder bolts out of the celebration before scully catches the bridal bouquet and he crosses a line. When they end up in an accident while driving in a storm, things come to a head in an Elvis inspired motel suite out in the middle of nowhere PA.

[fuckyeahhistorycrushes]

Tamara Wiszniewska (1919-1981) - Polish actress

Tamara Wiszniewska was born on December 19, 1919 in Dubno, Poland (now a region in western Ukraine) on the banks of the Ikva River. It was here that she spent her younger years during which she picked up dancing, which eventually led her to her career in film. In her 1981 obituary in the Democrat & Chronicle, it was reported that Tamara, at age 15, “Was a ballet dancer, when German film director Paul Wegener discovered her and gave her a role in the historical film, August der Starke (August the Strong)” which premiered in 1936. This German/Polish co-production is a biographical look into the life of Augustus II, ruler of Saxony and Poland-Lithuania from 1694-1733. Although Tamara played only a small role it marked her debut and eventual rise to fame within the Polish film industry.

Following her appearance in August der Starke, Tamara appeared in thirteen other films between 1936 and 1939, including Trójka Hultajska (The Trio Hultajska, 1937), Ordynat Michorowski (Ordinate Michorowski, 1937), and Kobiety nad Przepaścią (Women Over the Precipice, 1938). Wladyslaw (Walter) Mikosz, Tamara’s future husband, produced two of these films. In an interview, Tamara and Walter’s daughter, Irene, states that, "The two met because of their film careers, and were married [late that same year] in 1937".

Life for the Mikoszs was happy for a time. Tamara continued to pursue her acting career through 1938 and 1939 and had welcomed a new born daughter into the world alongside her husband, Wladyslaw. Unfortunately, these happy times did not last long as the Mikosz family experienced the rise of Nazi Germany and their occupation of Poland in 1939 during World War II. The following excerpt from an interview with Tamara in a 1974 Times Union tells how drastically their lives were changed:

"I always played a rich spoiled girl who had lovely clothes, and for a short time I lived that kind of life too. It was a short, beautiful life that ended when the Germans took over Poland in 1939. We were wealthy and the toast of the town then. We’d go to Prague and Vienna just to see an opera or to play in the casinos. When the Germans came, my intuition told me I should have something on me to exchange. I sewed my jewelry into my clothes. Later, it bought us passes to freedom and bread so we were never hungry."

The German occupation of Poland during World War II brought then “beautiful” life of the Mikosz family to an end. Gone were their illustrious careers in film and the rewards that such a life had brought to them. In a later interview, Irene mentioned that her mother "was preparing to sign a contract for a film career in Hollywood, but Hitler’s invasion of Poland derailed the plans". Sadly, Tamara’s last appearance on the silver screen was in 1939 prior to the invasion of Hitler’s Germany; she never again starred in any films.

Although her dreams had been crushed, Tamara and her family did not lose hope. They made the best of their current situation, and were able to survive by selling the fruits of their labors that they harvested during their days in the film industry; their lives had been consumed with a fight to survive rather than a dream to thrive. However, not being ones to live quiet lives, the Mikoszs volunteered for the Polish Underground, the exiled Polish government that fought to resist German occupation of Poland during World War II. As civilians with backgrounds in film, Tamara and Walter were most likely engaged in spreading Polish nationalistic and anti-German propaganda. Such efforts of the civilian branch of the Polish Underground was in support of what Jan Kamieński refers to as "small sabotage" in his book, Hidden in the Enemy's Sight: Resisting the Third Reich from Within: "In contrast of major sabotage, the idea of small sabotage was to remind the German occupiers of an enduring Polish presence, to ensure that they felt a constant sense of unease and generally undermine their self-confidence". While attending to these duties within the Underground, the Mikosz family was separated and shipped off to separate countries: Tamara and her daughter, Irene, to Czechoslovakia (where Tamara’s parents had been sent) and Walter to Bavaria. The family was not reunited until 1945, when they were sent to the same refugee camp in Bavaria. The Mikoszs remained in the Bavarian refugee camp until the year 1950, in which they emigrated to the United States of America. Tamara and Walter lived quiet lives in Rochester, NY after arriving from a war-torn Europe, and did so until they passed away.

Although they have long since passed away from this Earth, the stories of the Polish film star, Tamara, and her film-producer husband, Wladyslaw Mikosz, will live on so long as there are people around to tell it.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Touch and Go: A Detective's Romance

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Detective!Female!Reader 

Fandom: Night Hunter 

Word Count: 3.3K 

Summary: What happens when a touch-starved detective who isn’t well-versed in human interaction meets their match?  

Warnings: touch starvation, awkward conversation, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, crying during sex 

A/N: It’s apparently winter in this story, damn Minnesota weather. Honestly, I was watching the movie while writing so it ended up being snowy. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me 

Cover Art by me 

My Masterlist 

It’s not like you never noticed your fellow officer. Of course, your attention has been pulled to Detective Walter Marshall once or twice, or several times throughout your time working together. Damn, ok the man was a presence. His very existence should have a warning label on it. 

Not that he’s a bad person. Far from it, in fact. You thought the world of him. Not that you’d admit it, but you found his grumpiness endearing. His monosyllabic responses to questions made it a bit hard to get to know him. You weren’t exactly an open book yourself. But you forced yourself to try and get to know him. 

You didn’t make it a habit to get to know people very often. You had trust issues, and rightfully so after what your ex-partner left you with. A broken heart and a fractured view of your self-worth. You hadn’t even let anyone touch you in so long. A handshake here or there, maybe a pat on the shoulder but nothing more. 

And now here you were, a touch-starved mess who had grown to be a bit more than interested in another detective. You wanted to make him smile and that was a foreign feeling to you. So, you started with an olive branch. 

Asking if he wanted a coffee on your way to the break room. After the fifth time, he relents, requesting a cup of black coffee with three sugars. While you’re there, you pick up a granola bar from the cabinet. Handing him the paper cup of coffee, you also pull the treat from your back pocket and toss it on his desk. 

He tilts his head like a giant puppy at the snack. 

“Humor me and eat something. I’m curious if you’re eating enough if I’m being honest.” You bite your bottom lip unconsciously, and the beginnings of a smile appear on his face as he rips open the bar and takes a bite. 

Chewing slowly and staring at you, he seems to look right through to your soul. You look down at your feet to break eye contact and he clears his throat, getting your attention back.  

“You know, I actually love food. I love to cook almost every night.” As the words come out of his mouth, it’s like they’re fighting their way out. As if each syllable is a punch to the gut. 

“I love food, too. But I hate cooking,” You suddenly had a very dry throat, so you sip a bit of coffee before speaking again, “I’m not inviting myself over or anything, but if you’d be up for it sometime...I, uh...yeah.” You look everywhere but him as you trail off. 

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I normally eat alone. Be nice to have someone...there...to eat with.” It’s like speaking makes him physically nauseous, the way his jaw tenses like that. 

“Well, I’m free most nights, so...just let me know.” You move to turn and leave his office, but he stops you with an offering. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be free tonight?” He’s even surprised by his question but plays it off by folding his hands on his desk and maintaining eye contact. 

“Yes. I’m free.” You know you sound desperate but at this point, this is the most contact you’ve had with the man since you’ve been here so who cares? Well, you do, but you can worry about that later. 

“Good. Yeah. So, uh, I guess come and grab me when you’re ready to go. You can follow me to my place. Sound good?”  

“Yeah, that sounds great. Um, I’m gonna leave so I don’t say something embarrassing. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I just—” 

Walter cuts you off, saving you from yourself. “Don’t do this a lot?” 

“No, I don’t. Been a long time and I don’t want to fuck this up, ya know? Not that playing it cool was ever my style. Why start now, right?” You surprise Walter by laughing at your self-deprecating joke and he follows suit. 

The little duck of his head doesn’t stop you from seeing the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. When he picks his head up again, a broad smile is painted on that normally glum face. If you had 1% less control over your face, you would have drooled. 

This man should smile more. 

And you know you hate being told to put on a smile but fuck, his face was made for it. You realize you’re still looking at him and a faint rose-tinted blush dusts across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

You should not be allowed to be that adorable. 

“What?” Walter’s question brings you back to where you just said that sentence out loud. 

“I think I just called you adorable. So, I’m gonna see myself out and try not to throw myself into traffic on the way to my desk. I’ll be back when I’ve calmed my brain down a bit.” You wave awkwardly and exit his office before you can notice the smile inching back over his features. 

You spend the next two and a half hours hoping you didn’t make a complete ass out of yourself in front of the only man you’ve talked to in the last few months that wasn’t a delivery driver or your boss. The only person who you’ve talked to for more than a few minutes about something other than work.  

When 5:30 p.m. comes around, you gather your things and drag your feet to Walter’s office. He’s already standing, putting away some files in his desk drawer, looking up when he hears your polite throat clearing. 

“How do you feel about Spaghetti Bolognese? I have a recipe from Jamie Oliver that I’ve been meaning to try out.” He says, putting on his parka and moving toward you where you stand in his doorway. 

“Um, pasta is life. Pasta with meat sauce? Even better.” You brighten at the mention of a familiar dish, your previous nerves all but forgotten. 

“Great. Shall I help you with your coat?” He hinted once he realized you weren’t moving toward the exit. 

“Uh, yeah. Thank you.” You set down your purse and handed over your fluffy overcoat.  

Walter holds it out for you as you back your arms into the sleeves. As it comes to rest on your shoulders comfortably, his hands smooth over the fabric that covers your forearms, your hands ending up in his for a moment. 

You freeze at the sudden contact but if Walter notices, he doesn't make a big deal out of it. He just squeezes your hand quickly and hands you your purse so you can walk out together. You are grateful to be among the stragglers leaving the office so that you don’t draw too much attention. 

Walter walks you to your car and has you put in his address to your GPS, ‘just in case you get lost’ he jests before heading to his truck. As you watch him walk away, one thought comes to your mind. 

Is this a date? 

You park behind Walter’s truck in his driveway, climb out of your car, and crunch through the snow behind him. In your clumsy state, your foot slips, and strong arms catch you so that you don’t completely bust your ass on the unforgiving ice below.  

This time when he touches your arms, you are beyond grateful to be able to pull yourself upright again. Once you’re stable, Walter keeps one of your hands in his until you make it to his front door. He lets you walk in first, turning on the light to the short hallway after you chuckle in the darkness. 

Walter takes your coat and hangs it up with his, your wet boots left by the door. Walking into the kitchen, he pulls out a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Opening the wine, he pours each glass and brings them out to where you are standing in the living room. Handing you a glass, he raises his own.  

“Shall we toast to something?” Walter smiles softly, expectantly waiting for you to suggest what to salute. 

“To...being pleasantly surprised that you still wanted to cook for me despite every awkward moment I’ve had since earlier today. You are a gentleman and a scholar and I'm gonna shut my mouth and drink this wine before I just...keep talking.” You cringe inwardly before looking back up at Walter. 

He is watching you with rapt fascination, a slow smile forming. “Let’s toast to practicing human interaction. I’d say we could both use some assistance in that area. We’ll help each other, deal?”  

“Deal.” You tap your glass to his and take a sip of the now-aerated wine. Your cheeks warm at the blackberry finish of the cabernet sauvignon.  

Maybe there is something to the whole liquid courage thing. 

Dinner turned out lovely. You were pleasantly surprised that Walter could cook. There were moments watching him cook where he didn’t have to measure things, or he added a little extra of this or that. He didn’t use a recipe while making the garlic toast like it’s a staple of his repertoire or something. 

Sitting on his couch with your feet tucked up under you, you look around the living room at the lack of family photos or little touches that scream Walter Marshall. Not that you would have any idea of what those little touches would be. It just doesn’t feel like a home. It feels like a house, just a house that someone lives in. 

When he comes back to the couch with freshly poured wine, you accept your glass with a smile, and he returns it.  

“It is a Friday night. We are enjoying our second bottle of wine. You made me a delicious dinner. And I still can’t figure out if this is a date, Walter.” You fiddled with the glass in your hand, looking into it as if the answer was inside the wine. 

Walter’s thumb and forefinger on your chin have you looking up at his face. “I’ve used almost every excuse to touch you tonight. I kept talking to you earlier when you thought you’d lost me. I feed off your awkwardness because you say what’s on your mind without a filter. I’m not exactly one to speak a lot but I enjoy talking to you. Because you make me feel like I’m not alone.” 

Unshed tears gather at the corner of your eyes. You swallow the lump in your throat, clearing it loudly before you speak. “Can you tell I’m touch-starved because you are too?” 

At his quiet nod, you take his wine glass and set both of your glasses on the coffee table. You lean forward, your elbows on your knees. He watches as you have a silent moment with yourself, going over different scenarios before you reach a consensus with yourself. You look back up to him and your face softens. 

Reaching out your hand, you intertwine your fingers in his curls. As he turns his head to push it further into your hand, his breathing picks up. He grabs your fingers as they migrate to his jawline.  

“I want...I need more than this. I'd like to say I could wait, but all I can think about is kissing you until you can barely breathe.” Walter forces the words out, his breathing in time with yours. Erratic. 

You climb into his lap, one hand still in his, the other hand fisting his wool jumper. “Then kiss me until I can barely breathe. Fuck breathing. I just need you.” 

No sooner are the words out of your mouth, than Walter’s lips are on yours. It’s like he was starving and the breath from your lungs was the only meal he’d had in weeks. You could feel his hunger as he licked the seam of your lips, letting him in was the only option.  

As your tongues fought for dominance, he took the lead in a way you couldn’t ignore. His arms wrapped around you, pulling your torso flush to his. You felt so small yet so special as he held you. So new yet so treasured as you broke the kiss and rested your forehead against his to calm your nerves and catch your breath. 

A moment passes between you where you both just breathe. Until you lean your head back, locking eyes with Walter again, and you nod. He understands your non-verbal request, picking you up and walking toward his bedroom. Kicking the door behind him, he lays you down in bed and gets to work undressing you. 

You lift your hips as he pulls your jeans and underwear down your legs. You remove your top and bra, and he watches as your body is exposed to him. He stands to make quick work of his jumper, and you salivate at the sight of his hardness through his boxers when his jeans are pushed down his legs. His hefty dick springs up against his abdomen as his boxers are removed. 

Your hands roam over his hairy chest as he climbs onto the bed. With a hand under each knee, he pushes your legs back as far as they will go. He admires the shiny wetness that your pussy leaks. Shifting closer, he pushes the head of his dick through your folds and groans. 

He looks up into your eyes and asks silently if he can continue. When you nod, he enters you and your body accepts him fully. Allowing you to get adjusted to his size, he wraps your legs around his waist and pulls out until just the tip remains inside you before he slams back into you. This time you both groan, you at the fullness, him at the tight squeeze. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing. But please, keep moving.” Your words are all he needed to begin an all-out assault on your cunt. 

If it had been a while for him, you’d be none the wiser with the stamina this man possessed. He held your legs open while he fucked into you. He allowed you to just take it as he did most of the work. You could hardly keep up with his thrusts as you melted beneath him. 

“You’re so fucking close, just let go for me. I can feel you squeezing my fucking cock. Be a good girl and come for me.” While he whispered in your ear, he ground his pelvis into you to stimulate your clit and G-spot at the same time. 

When your resolve finally breaks, you try and hide your face in Walter’s neck to no avail. He tangles a hand in your hair and pulls you back so he can watch your orgasm play out on your face. 

“Don’t hide from me when I’m making you come. I want to watch you fall apart under my hands. You are so fucking gorgeous when you come for me, girl.” He talks as you come down from your orgasm and the warmth that spreads over your body is palpable. 

“Thank you,” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. 

Walter all but runs with it. “Fuck yes, you fucking thank me for your orgasm. That’s my good girl.” He pulls out, turning you on your side and sliding in behind you. Entering you again, he reaches a hand around to play with your clit. Circling your nub, then flicking it to keep you stimulated enough to come all over his fingers. 

You come for a second time within a few minutes, and he fucks you through it. Your words are clipped while you try to thank him once more and it just comes out as breathy whispers. 

Your moans are music to his ears and he pistons in and out of you. As your walls massage his cock, he starts to falter in his movements. You reach back to grab his hand, lacing your fingers together before pulling your hands to your chest. 

Getting the message, Walter wraps his other arm around you to pull you even more impossibly close to him. He slows down his pace, dragging out your moans as he unhurriedly moves inside you. He leans into your ear and speaks softly. 

“You have no idea how much I needed this. How much I wanted you. I didn’t know how to talk to you. Fuck, you feel amazing. Need you every day, girl. Just like this, wrapped up in you. I won’t last much longer. So perfect.” He babbles near the end, whimpering your name. He latches onto your neck as he stills inside you. 

His teeth nip at you and his tongue soothes your skin as you feel his cock twitch and paint your walls with his spend. You can hear him groan in your ear as his arms hold you tight. You haven’t felt this safe in someone’s arms since you were little. You don’t notice you’re crying until Walter wipes away the tears that fall down your face. 

“I’m sorry, I—” 

“If you’re about to apologize for crying in front of me, please don’t. You deserve to express your emotions no matter who is around. Least of all, me.” He places a kiss on your neck, attempting to soothe you. 

“Fair. I haven’t been held or even touched in so long and it’s a little embarrassing that my first reaction is to cry.” You sniff, rolling your eyes at yourself. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I know that’s easier said than done. But trust me, we just experienced some intense sex. And it was emotional for both of us. Trust me. Can’t you feel how fucking hard I am still inside you?” He moves his hips just slightly and is rewarded with a shiver going down your spine. 

“Walter...please.” You let your whimpers be heard and you get what you want.  

He moves to his knees while keeping you on your side. He pushes your leg up to a 90-degree angle and leans forward to fuck into you. The sound of slapping flesh fills the room as well as Walter’s grunts as he buries himself deeper inside you than before. 

“I’m gonna...please, don’t stop!” You reach up to hold his cheek in one hand and he shuts his eyes at the contact. When they open again, his pupils are blown wide. 

“Not stopping until you come again for me, girl.” The hand on his cheek migrates to his forehead to wipe away sweat-slick curls from his brow. 

“Come with me, Walter!”  

“Ugh, fuck!” 

The hold you have on your orgasm falters and your walls flutter around him, his hands curl around your thigh as his hips pound into you one last time. As his cock spurts inside you, your cunt continues to milk him until he softens and is released from your hold on him. 

He collapses next to you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. You reach an arm across his chest and settle in to catch your breath. Looking up one last time to Walter’s face, you’re pleasantly surprised to see a smile on his normally grumpy face. His eyes are closed, and you feel at peace knowing you are the cause of that serene expression. 

“Stay with me tonight.” You’re startled by his words, but you can’t deny the smile that crosses your face.  

Leaning up to kiss his stubbled neck, you revel in the grunt that follows. “Good night, Walter.” 

You feel him kiss the top of your head, nosing at your hair. “Night.” 

You fall asleep with your hand in his chest hair, your legs tangled together. You are held, you are safe, and you couldn’t be happier. Talking about what all this means could wait until the morning. For now, you bask in the feeling of warmth that this man and this moment give you. 

Touch and Go: The Morning After

A/N: Shout out to @sillyrabbit81 for her Detective Grumpypants Spotify playlist which helped me so much in writing this. 

**Tag List** 

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @peyton-warren @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel 

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁 

[waltywhitey]

🌟🌟 How the Breaking Bad crew would react to you coming out as trans 🥰🏳️‍⚧️🌟🌟

Notes: hi!!!! I'm a new writer and I just wanted to start with some breaking bad and better call Saul headcanons! Hope you enjoy!!!

Warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✨ Walter White ✨

🔆 Apprehensive at first since he doesn't really understand gender

🔆 Grew up old fashioned but will eventually come around

🔆 He's a teacher so he has to be understanding and use your correct pronouns

🔆 He further explores LGBTQ+ issues and gender rights and is a proud ally

🔆 He attends Albuquerque's pride festival

✨ Jesse Pinkman ✨

🔆 He's your best friend since moving to Albuquerque

🔆 Once you tell him, he gets really excited about learning this

🔆 He's so happy that he shows you his top scars in solidarity

🔆 Jesse never told anyone that he's trans too -- bonding you both closer together

✨ Saul Goodman ✨

🔆 Doesn't understand pronouns or being gay

🔆 Admits that he was gay for a bit in highschool

🔆 He'll refer to you with your preferred pronouns so he doesn't lose you as a client

🔆 He will protect you against hate crimes

🔆 He will also fight for your right to gender affirming care

🔆 He also wears a trans pin next to his blue ribbon to tell other potential clients that he supports all the queers

✨ Gus Fring ✨

🔆 You are one of his employees and confide in him that another coworker called you a transphobic slur

🔆 Gus does not allow discrimination in the work place and has the coworker fired

🔆 He consoles you in his office and asks what your preferred pronouns are and promises to make sure everyone refers to you as such

🔆 During June, Gus has a special trans meal that comes with a free trans flag and all proceeds go to an LGBTQ+ organization

🔆 Los Pollos Hermanos also has a float in the Albuquerque pride festival

✨ Mike Ehrmantaut ✨

🔆 Silence

✨ Skyler White ✨

🔆 You're best friends with her son, Walt Jr.

🔆 She's seen you grow up so when you come out as trans she's a bit shocked

🔆 At first she'll ask how you know and forbid Flynn from hanging out with you

🔆 Her son bashes her for being transphobic and says that he is going to run away

🔆 Skyler calms down and thinks things through

🔆 Eventually she promises to not be transphobic around you

🔆 At first she'll struggle with your preferred pronouns but she'll get it

🔆 Over time she'll become an ally and be accepting when Walt Jr. comes out as bi

✨Marie Schrader✨

🔆 You come out to Marie and she is very supportive

🔆 Marie stole your goddamn estrogen pills

✨ Hank Schrader ✨

🔆 You're one of Marie's coworkers and best friend

🔆 She invites you over for dinner where you admit to them both that you are trans

🔆 Marie is very supportive but Hank looks at you with a face of confusion and disgust

🔆 He doesn't believe in more than two genders and that you can be a different gender than what you were born as

🔆 He refuses to use your preferred pronouns and tells Marie that he doesn't want you back in his house

🔆 Hank tells his coworkers about you and Gomez gets on to him for being transphobic

🔆 After awhile Hank is indifferent to you at the least and tries to use your preferred pronouns

🏳️‍⚧️💗 BOUNOS 💗🏳️‍⚧️

✨ Kim Wexler ✨

🔆 At first she'll be confused because she thought you were pansexual

🔆 You'll explain to her that gender and sexuality are different and she'll quickly catch on

🔆 Once you tell her your preferred pronouns, she'll immediately start using them

🔆 She'll research all about LGBTQ+ history and current issues and promises to fight against any hate crime related cases for you

🔆 As she furthers he studies of sexuality and gender, she later comes out as non-binary

✨ Lalo Salamanca ✨

🔆 He finds you hotter

✨ Nacho Varga ✨

🔆 You're a cousin of the Salamancas

🔆 You'll befriend him as he seems like the least menacing of Salamanca's men

🔆 After awhile, you'll come out to him and he'll be shocked at first but then happy

🔆 He congratulates you on this big step and that it wasn't easy coming out to a member of the cartel

🔆 He'll ask what your preferred pronouns are and uses them right away

🔆 He eventually asks you to join his polycule

.

✨ Chuck McGill ✨

🔆 Dies

.

✨ Howard Hamlin ✨

🔆 You work for HHM as a paralegal

🔆 Howard spots the paperwork for a name change on your desk and questions you

🔆 You come out as trans and he'll be gladly shocked

🔆 He'll ask what your preferred pronouns are and enforce them with the whole company

🔆 He'll even offer to drive you down to the court for you to finalize the name change

(Tumblr has a 10 images per post limit I'm sorry Nacho and Howard 💔)

[weyounpussyindulgence]

Some highlights from my week at STLV

- Meeting Garrett Wang first, giving him a special Voyager limerick I wrote for him, and him loving it

- Getting my picture with John Billingsley and his wife Bonnie and getting some great advice about starting out in the acting industry from them

- Telling Tawny Newsome she looked beautiful and her complimenting my TOS inspired blue eyeshadow (and then her recognizing me the day after when I got her autograph)

- Jess Bush also complimenting me on my eyeshadow

- Walking past Anthony Montgomery and telling him “Hi! I think you’re really cool!” and him replying “Thank you, I appreciate that! I think you’re cool too!”

- Getting a duo picture with Jonathan Frakes and Brent Spiner, and Frakes telling me that I looked pretty

- Talking to Marina Sirtis, telling her I was there for my birthday, and her wishing me happy birthday and gifting me a free signed photo of Deanna

- Talking about Out to Sea with Brent and listening to him regale the fun he had making that movie

- Talking with Cirroc Lofton about his experience working with Avery Brooks and mutually agreeing that Star Trek needs more wholesome parent/child relationships

- Listening to John de Lancie talk about his experience sailing from California to French Polynesia (I could listen to him talk for hours, his voice is so soothing)

- Going to a memorial panel for Nichelle Nichols that featured her sister as a surprise guest (holy moly, she looked and sounded exactly like Nichelle 🥹)

- Going to another memorial for Aron Eisenberg and getting to make a toast to him with Cirroc and other fans (they used root beer for the drinks and had gummy worms “tube grubs” as table snacks)

- The moderator for the TNG panel not showing up, allowing Frakes to take over and him, Brent and Gates going absolutely batshit feral on stage

- Walter Koenig speaking out against the genocide in Palestine (and just getting to hear him talk in general)

- Seeing Armin Shimerman again and getting to tell him how much I enjoyed Betrayal of Angels (and his face lighting up when I told him how great an author he is)

- Sara Mitich and Ronnie Rowe both wishing me happy birthday and just being all around so kind and patient

- Telling Nana Visitor that she had the voice of an angel when she sings, and seeing how big and beautiful a smile she got

- Telling Kate Mulgrew she looked beautiful and her replying “Thank you! So do you.”

- JG Hertzler telling an absolutely hilarious story about how Avery Brooks and Rene Auberjonois got into a fight about one of Rene’s line deliveries while filming Far Beyond the Stars

- Richard McGee, Jay Chattaway and Jeff Russo conducting an absolutely phenomenal orchestral concert of Trek songs

- Seeing a really fun dinner show with some of the actors singing Broadway songs (my personal favorites being Nana, Robert Picardo, Bonnie Gordon, Jon Jon Briones and Celia Rose Gooding)

- Seeing Jeffrey Combs again and getting to ask him during his panel what would happen if all of his Trek characters were in the same room together (his answer: they would probably start either a baseball team or a rock band)

- Getting a picture taken with myself and both Carol Kane and Christopher Lloyd together

- Getting Mary Chieffo’s autograph and her writing happy birthday in Klingonese on it

- The entirety of the Rat Pack performance

- Getting to meet and interact with Trekkies of different ages, race, gender and sexuality and all of them incredibly nice

[radiant-reid]

The Right Person

request:

things spencer would say to his ex who’s his ex but not really his ex bc their hearts always belong to the other but is actually his ex bc they called it quits but just bc it’s over doesn’t mean it’s really over cuz he’s just: last slide

Summary: Right person, wrong time... at least until there's a part two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst, sort of)

Content Warning: a tiny spicy moment

Word Count: 3.3k

Masterlist | Navigation

Spencer has always jumped into things too quickly. It's the cocktail of being a romantic, coming from a broken home, failing with most social relationships, and the desperate need for a family.

So when Y/n came along, all smiles and beauty, he moved too fast. Fell is probably a more accurate verb. He fell in love so quickly without any logic that he couldn't help proposing a year in and marrying her six months later.

She offered him support and unconditional love. And for the first time in a tough five years in the FBI, he felt like the world wasn't completely terrible.

The whirlwind relationship would have been much better if taken slowly. It might have even worked out. With their fast pace, neither of them could keep up and after four years, trying to make it work wasn't worth it. The therapy, fights, and long periods without speaking wasted time and drained them both emotionally.

It was like fire. Hot and heavy or warm and comforting, but they were destined for a burn.

Sure, they loved each other more than anything, and they would forever argue that they're soulmates and the timing was at fault.

When Beatrice was nine months old, it was clear things wouldn't, so for her sake, Spencer moved out, the fighting stopped, and they could be friends.

For three months, they've been doing well with their co-parenting routine. Since Spencer had spent so much time away during their marriage, Y/n didn't have to get over the feeling of loss.

Maybe some of that could be accounted for by the fact it still felt like they were dating, the magnetism between them still volatile.

It's Saturday when Y/n's baking in the kitchen. She's yet to enquire about selling it, probably because they're yet to properly get divorced. Somehow, it doesn't feel weird for her to live in their marital home. She ignores how little it feels like they're broken up, especially when she's eagerly anticipating him coming home back from a case. He's not even coming to see her, but she's changed out of her pajamas and put makeup on.

"Guess who?" A voice says while the matching fingers block her vision.

If she didn't know that voice like the back of her hand, she would have freaked out. "You're so close to losing your key, Spencer Walter Reid."

He pulls his hands away, resting his back against the bench with his body facing her. "Boring answer. I would have accepted sexy ex or the smartest man alive." He says, smiling his perfect wide smile.

He looks good, a golden glow still surrounding him, and his shirt fits him tightly around his muscles. She's allowed to say that as his eventual ex-wife, right? It's more of a compliment to herself for attracting attractive, intelligent men. That's how she justifies it anyway.

"Who's been inflating your ego, loser?" She teases.

Repartee of their level is something no one else could ever offer him, and he cringes when other people try. "Jealous?" He asks.

Yes, she is. She'd love to shower him with compliments. Tell him about how nice his hair looks a little bit longer, how he should wear more light blue because it really is his color, how good he smells, and some less innocent things as well. The jealousy boils in her at the thought of someone else doing that. Still, she resists.

"That someone else has to vacate the bathroom for hours each day so you can do your hair? No." She lies. It's a lie on all levels.

Unimportantly, he doesn't spend that long in the bathroom, and he's about the furthest thing from a narcissist there is, but deeply, she would jump at the opportunity to be locked out of the bathroom while he spends far too long in the shower and be greeted with the gorgeous sight of a towel wrapped around his hips and his chest showing.

"Okay." He lets it go, and it annoys her that he won't believe the time. "Can I have some cookie dough?"

"Say please." She directs.

He pouts too much like Beatrice. "Please." He complies before opening her mouth.

She frowns, unsure if he seriously wants her to hand-feed him cookie dough. The answer is yes because he doesn't shut his mouth and tell her it's a joke. She scoops some up, putting her fingers into his mouth. He doesn't let them sneak out without wrapping his lips. It's suggestive, and it doesn't disgust her.

"You'll get salmonella." She tells him when he finally lets her fingers out of his mouth. She tries not to blush like mad while she wipes her fingers on a kitchen towel.

"You'll have to look after me then," Spencer says, justifying it. "As the person who gave it to me."

She shakes her head. "Gross."

"Why are you baking on a Saturday?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at her. He's suspicious whenever things change in her behavior, more so than anyone else's.

"I'm anticipating being busy tomorrow." She answers ambiguously.

It was on purpose, but the goal wasn't to make him curious and ask more questions. She just wasn't jumping at the opportunity to hear his opinion on her love life.

Unfortunately, his curiosity peaked when she started speaking. "Why?" She mumbles out an answer that he doesn't catch. "Come on, don't be shy."

"I'm going on a date." She says finally, avoiding looking at him.

That knocks him off guard, the smile slipping from his face as he steps back. Quickly, he forces himself to say something recoverable to hide the hurt and shock he's feeling at the unexpected news. "Does he know you're married?"

He knows he has no right to be upset about it. Not only are they not exclusive, but they're, in no way, romantically involved. It's why there's no bite in his words, nothing vicious in his tone.

It hits him harder with every passing second. Her statement is something he never expected, and questioning why that is while standing in the middle of their kitchen with her in a beautiful new top, yeah, it's gut-wrenching.

She holds up her bare left hand, shed of a wedding ring. "He doesn't, no."

"What's his name?" Spencer asks next. There are a million questions on his mind, but he keeps the conversation casual.

"Bradley."

She feels guilty for it, unsure if it's cheating guilt or mom guilt, and she's forced to constantly remind herself that it's okay, she's allowed to say yes when she gets asked out and be swept away by someone else.

His next move, to her, seems predictable. Whenever he's looking for more information, he stays quiet, waiting for her to feel awkward enough to elaborate. Even though she used to read him like an open book, she can't see that he's processing, replaying their worst moments-the moments that led them here- in his head.

She keeps talking, annoyed that his old trick is working when really she's just breaking his heart more. "He's a defense attorney, but he accidentally took my coffee the other day."

Spencer resists the urge to scoff because 'accidentally.' He's seen Morgan use the move a hundred times: pretend to mix up the coffees, apologize, and seal the deal by asking if he can make it up to her. "Switching teams, I see." He interrupts, predominantly so that he doesn't have to hear anything else. "And a new top." He mentions. Again, a tactic to get her to stop talking. "What color is it? It would look really nice as a feature wallpaper."

He does that, too, only complimenting things adjacent to her. Talking about fucking interior design instead of just saying she looks nice pushes her buttons, and she knows where his are.

"Yeah, I was wearing a jacket in a similar color, so I'm hoping it's a subliminal message." She admits. "Plus he's tall and very attractive.”

Spencer wants to scream something along the lines of 'I'm 6'1, I have three PhDs, you've told me I'm handsome after you held my hair up while I puked after drinking far too much, and I'm so goddamn in love with you,' but he can barely admit the last fact to himself.

"So he's got brown curly hair and sparkling brown eyes?" Spencer teases her, and she rolls her eyes. That dumb eidetic memory would never let him forget the descriptors she'd given him, and his cocky attitude would never stop mentioning it. "It's not your fault you have a type. Scientifically-"

"Shh." She requests, pressing her finger to his lips.

Without thinking about it, like it was second nature, Spencer purses his lips and kisses her skin. After letting it linger for a moment, she takes it away and turns back to what she's doing.

Again, he draws her attention back to him, cupping the cheek furthest away from him and turning her face to look at him. Once she is, eyes locked on his, he holds her other cheek. He steps forward so that he's so close to her that her breath gets trapped in her throat.

Those fingers on her skin make her feel things she shouldn't be feeling, and her heart starts to thump in her chest when she sneaks a glance at those beautiful veins. Maybe her skin is hot or maybe his fingers are just cold but the contrast sends shivers all over her. It's hard not to think about all the times they've been inside her or how they look wrapped around his cock as he lines himself up with her sex.

"Y/n, if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god." He says threateningly, and it would worry her if she didn't know him so well and if it wasn't so hot.

"You don't believe in god." She calls him out, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

"I can find anyone, anywhere." She can't debate that. "And if he lays a hand on you, I'll kill him or put him in jail for the rest of his life. Your choice."

He's acting like he's doing her a favor, letting her decide how he'll hurt someone who hurts her. It's an odd declaration to be making, contradictory to every bit of his sweet nature, and she doesn't hate it.

"What if I ask- beg for it?" She questions him.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that." He's really not.

He would do immoral things that would make him lose his job and even go to jail if someone hurt her, but the deep feelings he's disgusting as an overprotective bravado against someone assaulting her is really just because he can't stand the thought of someone else being with her.

He's not worried about it sexually. She might be anticipating not being home for the night, but she's not the type to ask a first date to get rough with her. What's got him on edge is her being someone else's emotionally. They might be telling everyone they're not together, but if her heart belongs to someone else, there's no chance of him getting her back, and that's all he wants.

His lips are so close that she could kiss him, but the magnetism makes it challenging to resist. She yearns for the feeling of warm lips against hers, more specifically, the pretty pink ones she's peeking at.

They've had slips before. It's been three weeks since their last one. Every time, she swears she won't do it again, but she's ready to tear his clothes off and fuck him in the kitchen.

She's daring him to make that dangerous leap, and he's about to.

The cries of a woken-up one-year-old through the baby monitor snap them back into a harsh reality before their lips can touch. They both wonder if it's horrid that they forgot why he's there. Spencer lingers for a moment with her face in his hands before he breaks away from her painfully.

"I'll go." He says, leaving her standing there stunned with cheeks hot and a pounding heart.

She has a moment to recover, but it's not enough, and soon Spencer's back in the room with the sweetest baby in his arms. She's giggling, clinging to her dad, who she loves dearly. If Y/n didn't love Beatrice wholeheartedly, she'd be jealous she wasn't enough for Spencer to spend time with. But she can't be. Not when Bea has the greatest dad in the entire world, and she deserves every inch of his love.

"Kiss momma." Spencer directs, holding her up to Y/n's cheek.

She plants a kiss that's mostly saliva on her mom, and despite how messy it is, it makes Y/n grin. "How'd you sleep, baby?" She asks, knowing they'll be no reply. Her vocabulary is limited to three words: mom, dad, and love.

"Not so well last night," Spencer answers like it was intended for him.

He sits on a bar stool at the kitchen island, sitting Bea in his lap. "Spencer," Y/n warns, glaring at him.

"Your mom's mad at me." He stage-whispers to Bea. "I never know why."

"Should we start with lying to a child?" She wonders, but it's playful, not insulting. "Add in some pesky comments."

Spencer pouts, holding Bea up so she can see it and copy her father. "Oh, she loves them." He assures her. "And I love you. So much."

Y/n smiles in adoration. He might be difficult to be in love with, but he's the best dad ever. Spencer catches her staring, it's pretty obvious when the bowl of cookie dough sits abandoned on the counter.

"You look so similar." She says, trying to prevent the awkward since and slightly too romantic looks.

"Need another one to look like you?" He jokes, or maybe it's an offer. She can't really tell.

She scoffs, shaking her head. "I'm alright, thanks."

"But she's so perfect." He coos, her entire hand holding his pinky finger. "How could you not want another one?"

She chuckles at his baby fever. It is practically impossible to not want another child when theirs is so incredible, but they're only masochistic towards each other.

"Don't go getting random girls pregnant, Spencer." She jokingly advises him.

“I’m only ever going to get one girl pregnant.” He tells her.

He’s messy. In fact, they’re messy together, and he can’t keep his dick in his pants, but it’s not a problem he has with anyone else.

"That's possibly very nice." She says, frowning as she tries to figure him out.

"You're lucky." He rephrases.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're lucky I don't kick you out now."

"Whoa, I get it." He teases. "It's someone's time to get lucky, hang a sock on the door and all that."

"I highly doubt you got any in college." She reminds him.

"Or now." He adds.

It should be weird. Who casually discusses sex with an ex?

"Yeah, I noticed one of your hands seems stronger than the other." She quips, although there's no discernable difference. They're both equally delicious.

"Mm, reminds me, I need more lotion." He mentions, playing along with the joke. "Vanilla, right?"

She fake-gags. "That's literally disgusting." She chides. "Do not go and get the same lotion I have to jack off."

He shrugs casually. "It's a free country."

"You're disturbing." She reiterates, reminding herself he said it to get her flustered.

"Don't flirt with me like that, or I might start thinking you like me." He warns, fluttering his eyelids at her.

She does feel like she's falling in love all over again with him when it's all flirting and comfortable.

"You'd be begging if I was flirting." She assures him, and it's true. Spencer begs like no one else.

"Alright, I think that's time to go." He decides, clicking his tongue and looking at Bea again. "Your mom's too into me for her own good."

That is hitting the nail on the head. She's into him and she always will be, but it's not wise, and it compromises her self-respect time and time again.

He gets up, bouncing Bea on his hip and walking around the bench. She leans forward to kiss her happy baby before playing with her soft hair. "Just admit you lost, Spencer." She tells him.

A little grin lights up his features as he refuses to comply with her directions. "I never lose." Oh, except for his one true chance at happiness and a family with the most remarkable woman in the world.

"Those beautiful big brains." She coos, moving her hand to his hair to part his curls properly.

"I'm sure yours are equally, if not more, beautiful." He says, once again making her stomach slip with the eye contact. "Smaller of course."

She scoffs out a laugh. "Bye." She says. "Her bag's in the hall."

"When do you want her back?" Spencer asks, holding the baby up so her cheeks can be kissed an obscene amount of time.

Their custody arrangement is nonexistent. With Spencer's hectic schedule and their good relationship, there's never been a need to make it official. Bea's always his priority when he's in the District, and that keeps Y/n happy.

Not fully happy. She'd like to see Bea, and her dad, every day, and she's too far from that with the latter Reid to ever be completely satisfied with her life. Months later, she's still convincing herself she can one day not look at him and wish for something unrealistic.

"Whenever." She says. They start walking towards the front door, slowly, both lingering and dragging it out. "If you need to go, you can bring her back."

"If you're in the middle of a date?" He wonders cheekily, grabbing Bea's bag from the floor.

She glares at him, not finished with her sentence. "Otherwise, I'll text you."

"Call." He insists. "We're not texting people."

"Fine." She agrees, swinging open the door. She takes Bea into her arms, giving her a tight hug. "Love you, sweet baby."

"Mom, love," Bea mumbles back, placing her hands on Y/n's cheeks.

Spencer gets the sinking feeling in his chest that he always gets leaving, but it's worse when he's taking Bea, who's Y/n's entire world. It makes him feel nauseating amounts of guilt. How can he be okay with putting her through the loneliness of a house that big being empty?

He smiles at her as he takes Bea back. "Thank you."

She not sure what for and she doesn't have a chance to ask before he's walking out the door, strapping Bea in her car seat. She waves at her mom, looking as happy as always.

Spencer stops before he gets in his seat. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" She asks, straightening up her posture.

She's hoping he'll say what she wants to hear, although she doesn't know what that is. A Spencer fact would keep things simple, but saying something about how they can get back on track, that she shouldn't go out tonight, would ruin their carefully stacked house of cards.

"He's a lucky guy." He says, and it kills him to know that it used to be him taking her out, watching her grin from across the table, making her laugh until she's begging him to stop, driving home with his hand on her thigh, watching her take off her makeup and become more beautiful, and ending up cuddling in bed, their baby just a room over.

And he can't ever have that again, not with her, and he can't fathom it with someone else.

Y/n goes back inside once he's driven away, hoping for once, after he leaves, that she can not think about him.

It doesn't work. As always, she's stuck thinking about Spencer.

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[fluentmoviequoter]

Favors and Broken Promises

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x journalist!fem!reader

Summary: When you begin receiving death threats while writing an article on a dirty cop, Deacon Kay reluctantly agrees to protect you. He makes the situation worse before it gets better.

Warnings: angst to fluff; non-descriptive fight scene and injuries. the detective and dirty cop's names are a somewhat obscure book reference

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

A/N: I didn't proofread this, but I'll be back soon to do so!

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Deacon is attempting - and failing – to enjoy his day off. When his work phone rings, he sighs before answering.

“Sergeant Kay,” he greets, hoping this will be quick.

“Deacon, this is Detective Jeff Sherman.”

Smiling, Deacon is pleased that it’s not a SWAT call.

“What can I do for ya, Sherman?” he asks.

“I need a favor.”

“Anything for an academy classmate. Couldn’t have survived without you,” Deacon replies.

“It’s a big favor, Deacon. Big enough that if you say no I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“What have you gotten yourself into? This LAPD business?”

“Yeah. It’s for a case I’m investigating. Dirty cop working in the academy.”

“LAPD academy? For how long?”

“Started around the time we were there.”

“We would have seen it, wouldn’t we? Is there any truth to the claims, Sherman?”

Sherman sighs, and Deacon isn’t prepared to hear, “You didn’t know to look, Deac.”

“Tell me what you need.”

“I’ve got a friend, a journalist investigating the cop, and she needs protection. She started receiving death threats last week, and she was being blackmailed before that.”

“Why call me?”

“It would be off the books. Our history and your time in private security make you the perfect choice to keep her safe while we find this guy, get to bottom the threats.”

“Of course. Like I said, Sherman, anything for you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Investigating a dirty cop in the Los Angeles Police Academy isn’t as easy as one might think. After years in investigative journalism and a brief history in the criminal justice field, you found yourself drawn to telling the stories of the people who need justice the most but can’t get it for themselves. This particular story caught your attention because you know exactly what these young women are dealing with.

Walter Greener has been harassing, blackmailing, and assaulting female recruits since you were in the academy years ago. His history of mistreating women and the fact that he’s still at it with no record of any reprimands makes you eager to expose the truth.

You were likely one of the first. Greener harassed you constantly, and when he grew bold enough to assault you on numerous occasions, putting his hands on you or getting rough in the locker rooms after training, you began considering dropping out. Letting the actions of one man dictate your life seemed ridiculous, and you vowed not to quit without good reason.

When the first letter demanded something in exchange for your safety, essentially asking for a piece of your soul to keep your life, you knew you couldn’t keep going on the track you were on. You pulled away from your friends and family before dropping out and moving. During this time, completely alone, you began studying to become a journalist, refusing to let other women’s stories go unheard. Your classmate, Jeff Sherman, tracked you down and demanded to know what happened, able to see something that no one else could.

Years later, when you learned that Greener was not only a cop but was working in the academy, you had to return to the heart of Los Angeles and find the entire story; the good, bad, and ugly. Now that you have enough evidence, both past and present, you’re ready to write your article. There’s more than enough to get him fired and charged with harassment and assault if anyone else is willing to testify against him. The moment you began preparing the story, a death threat appeared in your email inbox. Within a few days, they were being delivered straight to your door.

The only relationship that survived your forced exit from the academy was with Jeff Sherman, so you called him and told him everything. He jumped to action, promising to find him and keep you safe. Believing him, you continue working on the story, unwilling to let Greener scare you away again.

✯✯✯✯✯

“This woman have a name?” Deacon asks.

“You’re not gonna like it,” Sherman says before telling Deacon your name.

“Are you kidding me? No way, Sherman.”

“You already agreed, Deac. C’mon, man, do it for me?”

Deacon pinches the bridge of his nose, wondering how he went from being suddenly abandoned by you to being responsible for your safety. While you were in the academy, you dated Deacon for several months. He was happy, and things were getting serious, and then, out of nowhere, you started pulling back before disappearing completely. You dropped out of the academy, and Deacon had to accept that he’d likely never see you again. You broke his heart without giving him any idea about what happened. Even today, he is hurt and angry that you didn’t talk to him about the unknown issue. 

Unaware of how you were forced to pull away from him and the career of your dreams, Deacon has remained clueless about the blackmail and harassment that targeted your personal life. Each threat included your family and friends, including your cop friends and Deacon himself.

You and Detective Sherman only stayed in touch because he realized something was going on with all of the women and found you, cornering you for answers after your disappearance. 

Deacon already agreed and won’t go back on his word, but he really doesn’t want to see you again. Doesn’t want to be that close to you, responsible for you, any of it. He was pissed when you left, and he’s still so angry and hurt that he can’t imagine letting you walk into his life, his house, without at least providing a few answers. The idea of someone threatening to kill you, however, makes it harder to say no (if he could).

“You said death threats?” Deacon asks. “Are they bad?”

“They weren’t at first. Progressively, yeah, they’ve gotten graphic and detailed. The blackmail was rough too, though. Greener knows a lot about her.”

“Wait, Richard Greener? From the academy?”

“Right, you didn’t know, I’m sorry. That’s who the article is about. He’s still harassing and assaulting young girls in the academy and she’s trying to get to the bottom of it, get him fired or indicted.”

Deacon wants clarification on the ‘still’ aspect of Sherman’s statement but decides that getting close to this is a bad idea. It’s a job, nothing more, so he can’t let you get under his skin. The anger and hurt are as powerful as they were years ago, so Deacon will keep you alive and then watch you walk away again.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Why won’t you tell me who my bodyguard is, Sherman?” you ask, approaching a back door.

“Because you wouldn’t have come,” he admits while knocking.

The door opens, and you find yourself face-to-face with Deacon Kay.

“Hi,” you whisper, shocked to see him.

He ignores you, looking at Sherman instead. “Check for trails?”

“Of course, Deac. We weren’t followed. Thanks for your help.” He looks between you to add, “Don’t kill each other.”

Sherman walks away, and Deacon enters the house, leaving the door open for you to carry your bag inside.

“Guest room is the second door on the right,” he says, his back to you.

“Thanks,” you reply. “I’m sure you didn’t want to do this, but I appreciate it.”

“Oh, yeah, I just live for protecting people who intentionally piss off the wrong people with their second career choice of journalism. Because writing will change so much.”

You try to ignore his hurtful jab, opting to find the guest room instead of staying close to Deacon. He’s already forgotten this is supposed to be a job, letting his emotions control him. When you reemerge a few hours later, he wordlessly slides a plate of food to you.

“Thanks.”

“Feel free to throw it away if you suddenly decide you don’t like it, since you seem to enjoy that,” Deacon snaps, taking his plate into his room and closing the door.

“I think I might prefer the death threats,” you say to yourself.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Luca, you don’t get it. She left me, took part of me with her,” Deacon says quietly, pacing as he asks for advice.

“Sounds like she may still have it,” Luca offers. “Maybe give her a chance to explain. Have you talked to her yet?”

“Um- sort of. Nothing civil though.”

“Deac,” Luca sighs. “You can’t attack her for something she did back then and expect her to feel safe, for one, but that’s also no way to move on, man. At some point you just gotta let go and find something else.”

“You’re telling me to forgive and forget?”

 “I’m telling you to remember that neither of you are the same people you were back then. Give her a chance, and maybe be a little respectful of the fact that the man who destroyed her life is threatening to take it.”

“Thanks, Luca.”

Deacon ends the call and exits his room, noticing your door is closed. He sees your shadow move in the light under the door and decides that Luca’s advice can wait a day because his hurt feels brand new.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Is that wise?” Deacon asks, walking into the kitchen the following morning. “Isn’t writing what got you into this?”

“Not exactly,” you answer, completing your outline.

“Well, it’s what got me into this, and it’s not my dream vacation, so maybe don’t do anything to make the situation worse, if you can manage that.”

You nod slowly, sad that Deacon seems stuck on what you did in the academy. If he can’t move on or at least give you a chance to explain after all this time, then it’s probably not worth trying, you think.

Deacon notices the sad, misty look in your eyes as you continue typing but exits the room before anything else happens. He’s not in the mood to give you pity or feel empathetic toward you; you got yourself into this situation, but you also drug Deacon into it.

Throughout the rest of the day, you don’t even react to Deacon’s jabs and outright mean comments. Whenever he sees you, you jump as if you didn’t know anyone else was around, are lost in thought, and ignore him, or stare longingly out the window. Even after stumbling upon you crying at two different times, he keeps pushing you, letting the past impact his current treatment of you. Deacon thinks you don’t seem to care, so why should he?

By the end of the first day, you refuse to meet Deacon’s eyes and try your hardest to avoid him. Deacon notices, of course, and realizes that something in your past must be affecting you, maybe even the same thing that made you leave him. Everyone seems to think Deacon needs to move on, but he’s not the only one.

✯✯✯✯✯

A few days into your nightmarish stay with Deacon, he wakes up in an especially bad mood, which shows in his snarky comments and low-aimed insults.

“Couldn’t make it as a cop so you sit behind a computer and judge those of us that answered the call to serve and protect,” Deacon mutters.

Tired and unable to take Deacon’s – for lack of a better word – verbal abuse for a moment longer, you snap. “Well, I am so sorry that I was harassed and assaulted so often that I didn’t feel safe anywhere, not even with you! Dropping out and pulling away from everyone I cared about was my only choice, and it hurt me just as much as it hurt you, Deacon, but I’m not trying to make you feel like a monster for letting me leave and not noticing that Greener was putting his hands on me every time you looked away!”

Deacon’s eyes are wide as you continue, “And if the panic attacks and trust issues get to be too much, I’ll just leave again, because I think anything would be better than sitting in this house, with the man who is supposed to be keeping me safe but instead is making a bad situation a whole lot worse.”

With your emotions raging, you can feel the panic attack building in your chest, and you storm away before Deacon can witness that level of vulnerability.

Once he’s alone in the living room, Deacon begins piecing together all of the little signs he missed before, growing more and more determined to make it up to you. From the academy to this moment, he has a lot of hurt to mend, but he can help you now, even if he didn’t back then. Your situation requires a reminder that there are good, trustworthy cops; despite his recent behavior, Deacon is one of the good ones.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon knocks softly on your door, and you harshly rub the tears off your cheeks before answering.

“I’m so sorry,” he says when you come into view. Staying in the hallway, Deacon holds his hands before him, his genuineness evident in his gaze and body language. “I’m here with you and I will protect you, I promise.”

You nod, and he sends you a small smile before retreating into his room. Your heart feels a bit lighter, and Deacon’s does, too.

✯✯✯✯✯

Over the next few days, Deacon’s heart begins healing. He’s casually protective, gently moving you out of the way when you’re blocking something he needs, calmly asking you to stay away from the window, and refusing to let you out of his sight for too long. When you spend too much time in the shower, Deacon knocks and asks if you’re okay. Your responding laugh makes Deacon smile for the first time in too many years.

Deacon does more than a bodyguard should, with evident kindness and concern underlying each of his movements and commands. When he speaks, his words are nearly parallel to his previous comments.

“What are you writing?” he asks when he finds you curled on the couch with your laptop perched on your knees.

“Working on the article,” you answer carefully.

“I’ve read some of your pieces. You write on important topics in a way that makes them relatable. That’s admirable.”

Later the same day, he encourages you to keep writing when you mumble that it feels pointless.

“Even if you help one more girl, isn’t that enough?”

He even walks you to bed, holding the door open as he apologizes again. “And I didn’t mean what I said – any of it – but especially the part about you not being able to be a cop. We both know you were on track to be the best of us. But what you’re doing now is just as important.”

“Still can’t help but feel robbed,” you admit. “He took everything I loved.”

Glancing up at Deacon, you think he understands your meaning when he smiles.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Sergeant Kay,” Deacon says, answering his phone. “I’m off this week… How bad is it?... Yeah, I’ll get right back to you.”

“You should go,” you say, looking over your laptop. “Sounds like they need their best.”

“It’s a major hostage situation, and they only called because it’s urgent. I shouldn’t leave you, though, they can find someone else.”

“Deac,” you call. “I’ll be okay for a little while. And I will call if anything happens, or I get worried or just want to talk. I promise.”

Deacon reluctantly agrees, gathering his things as he calls his team back and tells them he will meet them at the scene. As he leaves you, he feels like something is wrong, out of place, but maybe that’s just because he misses you after spending so much time together.

✯✯✯✯✯

Something scratches across the front door, and you’re immediately alert. It hasn’t been long enough for Deacon to return, so you rush to his room, but the front door slams against the wall before you can escape behind another locked door.

“An article about me?” Greener asks. “I’d be flattered if I didn’t know exactly what kind of woman you are.”

“Now, I’m the kind of woman that you can’t intimidate.”

“Intimidate?” Greener laughs as he cracks his neck. “We’re way past that, don’t you think?”

You step back as Greener lunges, glad you continued training after dropping out of the academy. You’re still a good fighter, and Greener underestimates you because you’re a woman. While Deacon deals with a tiring afternoon of saving hostages, you win a tiring fight.

Car doors close in the neighboring driveway, and an exhausted and injured Greener rushes out of the broken front door. You don’t want to call Deacon, not because you don’t trust him but because you know he will blame himself. Regardless, you dial his number and lean back against the wall.

“Hey, what happened?” Deacon answers.

“Uh, Greener broke in. I’m okay… mostly okay. We fought but he got scared off,” you answer softly.

Deacon hangs up, rushing home and patching you up. He covers your scrapes and bruises, apologizing as he goes.

“I will never put you in this situation again,” he promises as he secures the last bandage over your split knuckles.

“Stay by my side?” you ask, offering your less bruised hand.

Deacon takes it with a soft touch as he answers, “Through it all.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon keeps his promise, staying by your side through the trial, the mixed backlash and praise over the article, and perhaps most surprisingly, your sudden fear of being alone again.

Standing by his door with your bags in tow, you can’t cross the threshold.

“You don’t have to go,” Deacon repeats. “Stay as long as you want. I’m by your side, remember? There’s nothing to worry about here. Other than me getting attached to you and clingier.”

You smile, glancing at the door before stepping closer to Deacon as he pulls you into a hug, and you wrap your arms around him before pressing your cheek against his shirt.

“I’m never leaving you again,” Deacon vows. “I lost you once, and after everything we went through to find each other again, what I put you through, I’m not losing you again.”

[bettercallstan]

V.II Snail - Second to One

Armoured Core 6 has an excellent story. The themes are well realised, the plot flows naturally, the world is coherent, but most of all the characters are layered and consistent. When you ask people who their favourite character from the game was most people will pick either V.IV Rusty, Handler Walter, Ayre, G1 Michigan, or G5 Iguazu. Armoured Core 6 has three endings and four major antagonists. The Fires of Raven ending has Ayre as the central antagonist, Alexa Lacta Est has Iguazu and Allmind, but the Liberator of Rubicon ending likely has the best antagonist in V.II Snail. Snail is the second in command of Arquebus’ Vespers and is often cited as a well written but fairly two dimensional character.

The first time Snail is introduced is just before Operation Wallclimber, where Walter is negotiating to send independent mercenary C4-621 on the mission. During the conversation Walter says ‘I hear you’re deploying V.I again. Must be rough having only one good pilot to rely on.’ He says this to insult Snail, as V.I Freud is the only person Snail can never be better than. Freud is ranked number one in the arena, he’s the highest ranked Vesper, and he’s both of those things without any of the augmentation that makes piloting an AC even possible for most people. Snail has many augments but despite that he can never catch up to Freud. In response Snail says ‘Are you suggesting your dog can take Freud’s place?’ This line is very interesting due to the similarities between Freud and 621. Freud may be the highest ranked Vesper but he isn’t loyal to Arquebus; he’s an expert AC pilot who only cares about getting to fight people he deems to be worthy opponents. 621 – the player’s avatar – is much the same, as what else is the player here for but for cool mech fights? Equally, 621 is a Gen 4 augmented human, a generation seen as outdated and subpar. So whilst not unaugmented, 621 needs significantly less augments than Snail to pilot an AC at the same level of mastery as Freud. Snail likely sees Freud in 621, and this is why he chooses to let 621 take Freud’s place on Operation Wallclimber. During the fight with the Juggernaut, Snail lies to V.IV Rusty about needing him to intercept incoming reinforcements, which causes him to leave 621 to fight the Juggernaut alone. Unfortunately for Snail, 621 wins, his plan fails.

After this failure, Snail becomes much less antagonistic towards 621. He takes a back seat in the story until the final mission of Chapter 3, Destroy the Ice Worm. In this mission Arquebus and Balam have agreed to cooperate, with Balam leading the mission under the command of G1 Michigan. Snail manages to nab himself the position of ground leader, and works with 621 and three other AC pilots to take down the Ice Worm. He’s mostly absent during Chapter 4’s descent into Watchpoint Alpha, because Arquebus have agreed to let Balam take the first shot at reaching the convergence. In fact Arquebus don’t even enter the watchpoint until halfway through the chapter. This is important as Snail seems to represent the ideology of Arquebus. His callsign – Snail. Snails are best known for being slow, and both Arquebus and Snail seem to embody the ‘slow and steady wins the race,’ mentality. This can best be seen when Snail lets his colleague V.VI Maeterlinck die so that 621 can defeat the Ibis series CEL-240 that guards the convergence. After the CEL-240 is downed, Snail ambushes 621 at the opportune moment and captures them, much like how Arquebus waited for the opportune moment to take down Balam by killing G1 Michigan earlier in the chapter.

At the beginning of Chapter 5, 621 escapes the Arquebus reeducation that Snail himself oversees. If that wasn’t already enough of an embarrassment, the player can choose to fight him on the Xylem and destroy his AC or ignore him. Both of these are incredibly humiliating for Snail; either he got his AC destroyed by an outdated pilot, or said pilot decided he wasn’t even worth their time. The other side of Snail’s callsign is that Snails are small, weak creatures that retreat into their shell when they feel threatened. In response to the incident on the Xylem, Snail retrieves the prototype Arquebus Balteus to try and finally put 621 to rest. This is a perfect conclusion for his character for a few reasons. Firstly, the main gimmick of the Balteus mech is its pulse armour; a spherical pulse shield that protects the mech from all damage, much like the shell of a Snail. But secondly, it relates back to his god complex being born of a feeling of inferiority. Snail sees Freud in 621 but even with this immensely powerful mech at his disposal, he can never overcome 621. He still loses. During his final fight he says ‘Raven the independent mercenary, you’re not the mutt I thought you were. You’re below that, you are vermin!’ During his conversation with Walter he called him a ‘meagre dog-sitter,’ so this shows how his hatred of 621 has deepened; he started off derogating 621 as just a dog, but now sees him as even worse than that because the only way he can feel better about himself is to put others down. No matter how hard he tries he can never be better than Freud or 621, so the only course is to bring them down to his level. During the fight he goes on a tirade, saying ‘Out of my sight vermin! That traitor V.IV, those dolts at command, but worst of all – you! The pest of Rubicon who stirred the cinders, you sicken me, all of you! I’ll crush you underfoot, I am Arquebus!’ Being stepped on is a common fear for Snails, so it seems he may be projecting somewhat here. Snails are incapable of ever crushing anything underfoot, just like how Snail can never beat 621 like he wants to.

However, the most interesting line to me is when he says ‘I am Arquebus.’ It’s worth noting that whilst Freud is V.I, Snail is the one with the power. Freud just does what he’s told if it involves cool mech fights, Snail is the one calling the shots at the Vespers. In practice he is the highest ranked member of Arquebus that we see in game. During his final fight, Rusty says ‘Snail may be V.II but he’s second to none.’ This is interesting because we know for a fact that’s not true – Freud is canonically the better pilot in every way that matters. What this actually tells us is that Snail, whilst not as skilled as Freud, was still skilled enough to gain Rusty’s respect. Snail had everything. He was respected as an ace pilot, he was in charge of the Vespers and of his rival, but he couldn’t see any of it because he wasn’t V.I. He was so obsessed with something that ultimately didn’t really matter that he failed to see just how much he has because at his core he is greedy, nothing he gets will ever be enough to satiate his inferiority complex, and it manifests in an arrogant, god complex personality that no one wants to be around. He ever says that 621’s greatest crime is trying to kill or ignore him. He can’t see how 621’s actions affect anything other than himself, and ultimately he dies inside Balteus for this failing.

In conclusion, V.II Snail is not as two dimensional as people say. He isn’t just arrogant, he isn’t just a man with a god complex. His character goes much, much deeper than that, and it’s one of the many reasons why I believe him to be Armoured Core 6’s best villain.

[iouinotes]

Dark night, sweet lips | Alex Walter

pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader

show: My life with the Walter boys

warnings: smut, kissing, arguments (between Cole and Alex)

summary: Alex is arguing with Cole and you´re trying to make his evening better afterwards.

authors note: An anonymous person asked if I could write a scenario where the reader and Alex have (angry) sex in the car. I converted it a bit, hope it's still ok! It has taken me so long to finish writing this ff and I am relieved to finally be able to publish it…

Alex is probably the sweetest soul to walk this earth. For me, he is the most beautiful ray of sunshine, the brightest star and every spark of light that dispels the darkness.

He is my first boyfriend, but I feel it every time he smiles at me, that I will never want another man this close by my side. He is the second half of my longing soul.

The two years we have been together were the best of my life. I know that it is so often said that "love blinds you" and that the greatest heroes fell victim to love, fell so incredibly hard for it.

My love for him still blinds me every day, but I don't regret a single second of it.

He doesn't give me any reason to regret us, not when he does everything to make me happy.

He buys me my favorite sweets, gifts me books with the phrase "I thought you might like it", he kisses my forehead when I have a headache. And I just need to be quiet for a while too long and he will make me laugh until every bad thought inside my head has disappered. He cuddles me, watches movies with me, that make me cry, just to hold me in his arms and whisper to me, how much he loves me, during the credits.

Maybe some people will say it's too good to be true. That there has to be something to break through his perfect facade.

And actually there is something.

He breaks down when his feelings are hurt. If it happens, there's nothing I wouldn't do to see him happy again.

Just like now.

The reason for his anger is Cole. I know how much Alex loves his family and that deep in his heart, he sees Cole as a role model. Even if they fight each other over every little thing and throw words at each other, that will never be spoken of again.

While the first three hours of the family dinner went well, there was of course a point, that caused the good mood to change for the worse.

"Just because you didn't make it, I should skip college too? You're such an asshole, Cole." Alex's angry voice leaves an awkward silence, but only until the blond brother answers.

"I'm the asshole? I'm not leaving my family and travel to the other side of the planet!" When I meet Kathrine's gaze, I can see the desperation hidden in her eyes.

"Oxford isn't that far away, you shitty-" But his sentence is interrupted when George suddenly stands up.

"Boys, please be nice to each other! The evening was pleasant until now, stop acting like nine year olds." George's voice echoes in the room and despite the protests of the actual children, who are this age, the request doesn't help to stop the fight.

I usually stay out of the arguments, that the two brothers often have and Jackie normally does the same.

But this time we both look at each other and notice how much more tense the situation is becoming. And that every wrong word would only make their relationship worse.

"Cole, let's go upstairs. I think I left my history book with you." Her stern voice is the only thing that catches Cole's attention and when he turns his angry gaze to her, he seems conflicted of his next actions.

I also step in and gently put my arm around my boyfriend's, putting my lips close to his ear.

"Let's step outside for a moment, please." Alex's anger is also still clearly visible, but when his parents also get up to try to intervene, I manage to successfully pull Alex away from the drama.

His angry gaze softens slightly when he finally looks at me.

As we step out the front door into the cold night air and I close the door quietly behind me, Alex's unhappy voice immediately echoes trough the silence.

"He's such an idiot! Just because he couldn't go to college, he has to ruin it for me too. He's so selfish." I notice goosebumps spreading across my skin and only now realize, that I've forgotten my jacket. But I try do order my thoughts by crossing my arms over my chest, focusing on the boy in front of me.

"Alex, I know how upset you are with him right now. But he's just hurt, that his chance to leave this city and go off to college is gone. You know exactly how much the loss of football still affects him." I try to be reasonable, even though Cole's rude words about Alex's decision to go to college, makes me angry too.

"You don't understand, he said I was wasting our parents' money just to run away with it! You didn't see my mother's look when he said that." A sad feeling clinges to my heart, seeing him in such pain. I walk closer to him, gently holding his face in my hands and trying to meet his gaze.

His eyes, full of anger and despair, stare into my soul. I want to take away any sorrow from him.

"Alex, your parents know how much you love them. And that you would never do something like that. It is your future, your education and also your chance to change your life. They know how important this decision is, how important college is to you. Cole just can't handle it properly right now."

He sighs, his eyes briefly look at the dark, starry sky until the next moment, where he places his hands on mine and a small smile creeps onto his lips.

"You are wonderful, you know that? You are my heart and my mind, all combined. What would I do without you?" His words melt a part of my heart, which already belongs to him and I focus my gaze for a second too long on his lips.

As a cold breeze hits our bodies, I shiver slightly and faster than I can register, he strips off his jacket and holds it in front of me, so I can put it on.

As I slide into the sleeves and mumble a small "thank you", he quickly pulls me back to him. Wrapping his arms around my waist.

His eyes sparkle like a thousand stars.

“I just want to be alone with you right now. No arguments, nothing but you and me.” His whispering voice interrupts my many thoughts.

As I'm about to answer, a loud knock sounds behind us and I suddenly see his little brother making ridiculous faces. Laughing, I notice Alex's frustrated expression and hear him muttering under his breath.

But when I look behind him, I see the blue familiar car, leaning against the barn and an idea forms in my head. I point with my hand in this direction and confused he raises his eyebrows at me.

"What's on your mind, darling?"

Smiling as he keeps his gaze on me, I slowly drag him down the stairs by his hand. The warmth he radiates, makes me never want to let go of him again.

"Just you. Only ever you."

When we are just a step away from the car, I push some strands of hair out of my face and turn my back to him.

Waiting for him.

"Now we can be silent, if you want." He smiles at me, I see it in the corner of my eye, until he finally wraps his arms around my waist and together we walk to the car. Leaning my back against it and facing him, we laugh.

"Maybe I want to fill in the silence." I raise my eyebrows, smiling at his words.

The metal is cool, Alex's body in front of me warm. His eyes watch every expression on my face until they finally move to my blue dress. Which moves gently in the wind.

“You look wonderful tonight, so beautiful. My girl, more radiant than the night sky." His face gets closer and closer, until I feel his breath on my face.

How beautiful he looks today, black shirt, tight pants and disheveled hair. These lips that are as inviting as the look he gives me.

I feel myself trying harder and harder to breathe, he has this effect on me.

As he leans closer to me and places his hand on my cheek, I close my eyes.

He slowly leans in and captures my lips in a sweet kiss, my fingers tangle in his hair.

His hands are not idle either, they stroke the sides of my hips and grip the light blue material of my dress. Pressing myself closer to his warm body, I have to suppress a shudder.

His lips press harder against mine, I feel my heart beating so fast. My chest feeling so warm, like a sun exploded inside me.

Then his tongue strokes my bottom lip and as I open my mouth, he slides his tongue inside of it, gently pushing me against the car now.

Without being able to stop it, a soft moan escapes me, his hand that is on the back of my head moves to my chin as he pulls away from me.

I take a breathless breath, he lifts my chin slightly to meet his gaze and when I look into his eyes, I realize again how incredibly in love I am with him.

If he only knew what he was doing to me.

"Maybe we should go back inside now." Such a gentleman, always so accommodating. His thumb strokes my heated cheek and I swallow loudly as his eyes return to my lips despite his words.

"What if I don't want us to go in yet?" His eyes now look into mine, confusion swirling in his irises.

“Then what do you want, pretty?" I lean close to him, searching his gaze and breathe a single word at him.

"You." His eyes widen and when his mouth opens in surprise, I lower my hands to push his jacket off my shoulders.

His gaze doesn't leave me. I see nervousness decorating his handsome face.

"What, here? Now? But, someone might see us-" I place my finger on his lips, pulling my hand down until I intertwine mine with his.

"Then open the door." I see him swallow and as the jacket hits the ground, he seems to come back to life.

Nodding, he seems to compose himself, rummages in his trouser pocket and, luckily, pulls out the key.

As the lock is turned, he opens the door for me and I smile softly as I sit in the back seat.

As he joins me and closes the door, darkness surrounds us. As soon as his hands find my body, my heart pounds loudly.

I silently wonder if he can hear my heartbeat.

"Won't the others be curious, if we're gone too long?" My hand moves up his thigh, gently pressing on the bulge that's forming in his pants.

“Then hurry up." I pull his hand to the straps of my dress, giving him time to trace small patterns into my skin.

It's not our first time, but definitely a primary one, to be intimate somewhere else other than our beds.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom with me." I slowly push him against the back seat and sit on his lap. His hands quickly find my waist and I wrap my arms around his shoulders as I answer him breathless.

"Check my pocket." When he tries to contradict me, he stops as soon as he pulls a small bag out of the pocket of my dress.

"You're amazing, how-" but when my lips meet his, he has to swallow at my next sentence.

"I love your voice Alex, but I would love it even more if you would whisper dirty things into my ear, instead of asking why I carry a condom with me, which is obvious for many reasons. Now, please touch me." My whiny voice is enough to finally get him to move.

His hands wander under my dress and stroke the bare skin of my thighs, I press my mouth against his neck and leave kisses there.

I feel his heart racing beneath my hands as his fingers find my underwear.

"Can I-" I nod in frustration and pull his shirt over his head, his messy hair and the nervous look in his eyes making me squeeze my legs together.

"You look so good, Alex. So, so good, I need you inside me." As if he's finally deciphering the situation, a smile spreads across his face and when his hands stop moving, I want to protest.

"Shhh, I want to look at you first." I pull my lip between my teeth and feel his fingers touching my lower lip, sliding over it.

"You can look at me, while you fuck me." The shocked look in his eyes makes me pause for a moment, but then I slowly raise my hand.

Confused, he waits for my next move and when I take his hand into mine and push his thumb into my mouth, I swirl my tongue around it.

I keep my eyes on him. His fascinated expression makes my heart skip a beat.

After a few seconds he pulls his fingers out of my mouth again, I lean in further to whisper to him.

"Stretch me, please. I need something inside me." It takes him a moment to register my words and when he does, his fingers trail anlong my body. Letting the wetness wander down my arm until his hand disappears under my dress.

I have to inhale sharply when his thumb strokes my clothed core and I have to stop myself from begging him to finally do something.

When I turn my gaze to him, he is already looking at me.

As his fingers push my underwear to the side, collecting my wetness, a moan escapes my lips.

"Please-" Then his finger slowly sinks into me, I want so much more of him. The sound is dirty as his finger slides into me so easily.

"Always so polite, have you been this wet all evening? Or does my hand make you feel that good?" I nod quickly, wanting to tell him I need more. But before I can open my mouth, he lowers a second finger into me and my eyes close in pleasure.

My mouth opens slightly, a tremor running through my body as his lips meet my skin.

My cheek, my neck, then my collarbones and finally across the fabric to my chest. I put my hand on his hair, tugging at the strands as my head spins.

When he looks into my eyes, the look so sweet and mischievous at the same time, I could cum on the spot at the sight of him.

Why does this boy have to have freckles too? Shit, you'll be the death of me.

"Can you hurry up? I want-" When his fingers hit the special spot inside me, I tighten around his hand. I feel my eyebrows knit together in frustration.

"What do you want, pretty one? I thought you wanted my fingers. You have them." As I lean closer to him so we are face to face, I kiss my way down his chest.

When I look up at him, his lips part slightly.

"I'll give you some motivation to figure it out then." His fingers pull out of me, but before it annoys me too much, I lower myself to the floor and wrap my hands around his waistband.

I kiss the fabric, letting my hands roam over his stomach. I see his hands trying to hold onto the leather.

Then I break away from him and quickly help get rid of his pants, pulling down his boxer shorts as well. A short breath escapes his lips, as the cold air hits his exposed skin.

"Do you really want to-" As soon as I put my hand around his cock, he stutters.

I twist my wrist around his cock, collecting the precum at the tip, starting to move my hand up and down. His brows furrows and he struggles to keep his eyes open.

Then, without warning him, I gently wrap my lips around his head, sucking lightly as I swirl my tongue around him.

His head hits the back of the car with a grunt, his hand quickly finding its way into my hair.

I slowly sink my mouth lower, hollowing out my mouth as his loud breathing rings in the silence. He chews his lip with his teeth, then he finally gathes his strength to look at me with lustful eyes.

It only takes a few movements of my tongue for his grip on my hair to tighten.

When I realize he's about to cum, I pull my head back. When I look up at him I see his flushed cheeks.

"Why did you stop?" His lazy eyes look into mine and as his hand cups my cheek to hold my face, I feel myself dripping.

This sight, me on my knees in front of him, him with his chest heaving rapidly and his eyes wide open - he looks like an angel.

Well, a naughty angel.

I smile sweetly at him, his eyes almost automatically go to my mouth. I know how much he wants my lips around him again, but when I swing my legs over his lap, he realizes my intentions.

"Take off my clothes." He doesn't need to be told twice.

His hand wraps around my dress at my waist and when he looks at every part of my skin exposed to him, he pulls my dress up.

As I raise my arms, he helps me to take it off. Now I'm sitting only in my underwear in front of him. His hand moves over my breasts, caressing the lace bra, my sensitive nipple and I shiver as the cold air hits me.

He grins at me as his left hand finds the clip on my bra and he opens it with a click. His fingers slowly stroke my arms, goosebumps appear as he pulls the straps from my shoulders and takes off my bra.

As he maintains eye contact with me, he leans forward, I hold my hand to the back of his head as he swirls a nipple with his tongue.

I close my eyes as the feeling intensifies, his one hand resting on my hip while the other hand cups my breast. Without noticing, I lower myself onto his thighs. Trying to put pressure on my core.

But he just tightens his grip around my waist, pausing the movement as he pulls away from my chest and his fingers stroke over my stomach.

Anticipation builds in my stomach as his right hand wraps around the material of my underwear. As I lift my hips, he slowly slides the material down my legs.

As I lower myself again, his hand moves around my thighs. Our heated skin meets when there is no longer any material separating us.

As our hands connect, he brings mine closer to his mouth. Kisses the skin and makes a smile appear on my lips.

"Ready?" His quiet voice makes me nod.

His hand wraps around my waist, helping me lift myself up as he directs his cock at my entrance and we both let out a loud sigh, when we meet.

I pull my arms around his shoulders, cupping both of my hands around his face as I lower myself further onto him.

The tugging hurts slightly, but it's pleasant as he leans in, stealing my attention as he places his lips on mine.

The kiss is a mixture of our breathing, love and pleasure.

The heat that arises between us warms up the car. I see the windows fogging up out of the corner of my eye.

When my hips are right on his own, he stretches me out so much, that I feel him all the way into my stomach.

His sweet lips brush the corners of my mouth, my cheek. His hand goes around my back, trying to give me time to get used to him.

"Do you feel good?" As I rock against him and he's moaning in respone, I laugh against his skin.

"Does this answer your question?" The look he gives me, leaves me out of breath.

"God, you´re amazing." I smile to myself, slowly lowering myself back onto him. His eyes follow my movements, as his lips settle between the valley of my chest.

His breath is warm against my skin, I almost want to close my eyes, but decide against it when I meet his attentive gaze.

When I finally move, I let out a shaky breath. I need a moment to savor the feeling. To savor being so close to him.

"Do you need help, beautiful?" I nod slightly, feeling his hands wrap around my waist and helping to lift me up.

As soon as I lower myself, I murmur his name like a prayer.

"Alex-" A groan escapes me.

"I know, beautiful. You're doing so good." My hands roam from his shoulders over his bare chest, over the heated skin. As my fingers wrap around his neck to rest my forehead against his, he lifts his hips.

His hands press into my skin, surely leaving a mark for the next day, but his mumbled words draw all attention away.

The sight of his freckles look like a gorgeous work of art.

"You like that? If everyone could see you? Fuck-" He takes a sharp breath as I start moving faster. His question makes my stomach tingle.

"I just want you to see me." His mouth twists into a smile and I lower myself to steal a kiss.

"I only want you too." His lips feel warm aginst mine. His tongue traces my bottom lip and as my thighs shake, his hands roaming my back.

“Do you want to swap?” Out of breath, I just nod, wanting to finally come.

The next second, I'm lying in the back seat, a laugh escaping me as his mouth hovers over my stomach.

He leaves dizzying kisses there, my fingers stroking his wet hair. For that moment as we look at each other, there is only us.

Then he slowly kisses his way down my thighs, across my stomach, up to my chest and finally hovers over my face.

He supports himself on the armrest while my fingers stroke his cheek. As he enters me again, my eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and my mouth hangs open.

I feel his grin in the darkness.

"Stop doing that." My voice sounds slightly embarrassed between us, but a smile still creeps onto my lips at his satisfaction.

"What? I just want to make my girl feel good." I wrap my legs around his waist, connecting our bodies even closer.

"You´re so beautiful, you know that? I could stare at you all day and it still wouldn´t be enough." His hip movements are so deep, that I can feel him in my stomach.

His hands wander over every part of my body that is spread out in front of him. My mouth opens in pleasure as I feel my climax approaching.

“I want to come so bad, please- Alex, please let me come.” His mouth settles on my collarbones, leaving marks, and all I can do is moan, unable to care.

"You deserve it, you've been so good to me. Let go, you can." It's always these moments, his whispering voice, his seductive, sweet words and that look in his eyes. It's as if the world stops the moment I reach my climax with him.

The thought is the last thing I need and as his hand wraps lovingly around my cheek and he gives me a sweet kiss on the lips, I see white.

I feel so good, only hearing in the background as he lets out a long moan and comes inside me with one last thrust. I notice how he lets his weight rest lightly on me, before he grips my hips and swaps our positions.

A slight moan leaves me as he pulls out of me and with my last remaining strength, I lay my head on his heated chest. Our breaths synchronize perfectly in the next seconds and I feel deeply lovestruck.

“I love you.” His fingers stroke my temples, brushing individual, sweaty strands from my face.

“I love you more.” How wonderful these three words sound, when they are said by him.

As we lie together in the dark and the bright stars shine down on us, there is nothing more beautiful than this moment.

Well, maybe him.