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augustghosts · 1 year

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The Best Thank you

Tommy Miller x fem!reader

On that night in 2003, Tommy calls his girlfriend instead of Joel.

(let's pretend the literal apocalypse doesn’t happen for this one, ok?)

I started writing this like a week ago before ep 6 and after seeing ep 6 I haven't been able to stop thinking about tommy fucking miller. Anyways, this ends kind of abruptly because i’m bad at endings lol. And this is the worst title ever, I couldn't think of one. Hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: 18+ so minors dni pls, not proofread so lmk if u spot any mistakes lmao. Lots of pet names. Established relationship, ppl in love n all that. Oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. Tommy defo whimpers btw.

Word count: 3.1k

“Shit!” She almost rolled her eyes at herself as she did the classic scramble around the bed in the dark for her phone. After a few seconds she grasps it, her eyes squinting as she looks over a number she doesn’t recognise. She considers not answering, it is midnight. But calls this late are usually important, right? Fuck it.

“Hello?” She’s hesitant, but the sigh she lets out makes it sound like she’s annoyed. Tommy is nervous, he’s actually fucking nervous. After no answer from Joel, he didn’t know what else to do. He was well and truly fucked. He's leaning against a cold wall, the payphone is heavy in his hand - not as heavy as the stare the officer who’s watching him is giving him. He looks down at his boots instead and squeezes his eyes shut before replying. The sound of her voice immediately helped his situation.

“Hey, honey!” He sounds a little too cheery, he honestly cringes at himself. He can’t tell if its the pure fucking anxiety he’s feeling because of this phone call or the alcohol.

“Tommy? What’s wrong?” She sussed him out immediately, the sounds of his voice initially putting her at ease before she sensed the edge in it. God, he thinks, she’s so damn smart. And she knows him so well. He catches himself smiling at the just the thought of her, until he remembers where the fuck he is.

“Yeah. I’m, uh - I'm okay.” Did he just stutter? This is one of those times he wished she didn’t have this kind of effect on him.

“Okay?” She beckons him to continue, leaning over to her nightstand to flick the light on. Her room is illuminated revealing a pair of Tommy’s shoes by her door and some clothes he’d left there still thrown over the back of her chair.

“Look, I'm - um.” Fuck, Tommy. Just say it. “I’m in jail.”

There’s a pause on the other end, a pause that’s a little too long and makes him think she’d hung up. He takes the phone away from his ear to glance at it, as if that would help. Her voice is small when it finally comes through. “What?”

“Did you actually not hear me or do you just want me to say it again?” He tries to joke.

“Say it again.” Her voice is stern, it immediately shuts him down.

“I’m in jail.” He sighs.

There’s another pause before she asks: “Are you okay?”

His heart squeezes in his chest. He had expected a million sighs, a telling off or maybe even a dial tone ringing in his ear telling him she’d hung up on him. But no, of course she’s not like that. He knows that - she’s better than anyone he’d ever met. Of course his beautiful girl with her beautiful heart, who had just been woken up at midnight, was going to ask him if he was okay.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” His voice is uncharacteristically small.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. It's- you know I was at the bar and one of my buddies got into a fight and I was just helping him out. I think maybe I knocked the guy out, I don't know.” He does know. He did knock the guy out and honestly, he was pretty proud of it. But he doesn’t want to tell her that.

“Oh, okay.” Honestly, she’s confused. Not sure why he was calling her, didn’t he have a brother?

“Anyway, look baby, I'm sorry but I need you to help me out.”

“How?” She asks. She’s sitting up now, and suddenly she doesn’t feel tired anymore.

He sighs again, he really doesn’t want to be doing this. “Darlin’, I really am sorry but I need you to bail me out.”

She’s silent again for a second, “Now?”

“Yeah, it’s friday. If I don't get out tonight I'll be here all weekend.” He’s speaking faster now, he sounds like he’s panicking. Shit, is she really gonna do this? Of course she is. She sighs as she stands up. Tommy hears it and it makes his chest squeeze again, guilt flooding him as he speaks. “Please. I’m sorry.”

“Which jail?” She asks - he tells her. A feeling of relief almost overtakes the guilt as he hears her shuffling around on the other end.

“Okay.” She says, slipping her shoes on. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Shit, thank you sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you.” He promises. She doesn’t respond - the line goes dead. Honestly, he feels like he’s getting mixed signals. Was she mad? Was she upset? He couldn’t tell. Fuck Joel for not answering.

Half an hour later she’s pulling up in front of the station. Her heart is beating faster than ever, maybe she should have left him here over the weekend. Taught him a damn lesson. She knows she doesn’t mean that, but she seriously considers it as she gets out of her car. The place is weirdly empty for a Friday night, a few people sitting on chairs in front of the desk. Only two people sitting behind said desk, she had expected it to be a lot crazier. Maybe the crazy is happening where Tommy is, somewhere in the back. In just a few minutes after a conversation at the desk Tommy is walking towards her. He looks more nervous than she’s ever seen him. His usual cocky and confident demeanor, which she loves so much, has been replaced by guilt and embarrassment. She stands with her arms crossed as she waits, watching as he’s handed back his phone and wallet.

“Hey.” He says as he turns to her, he almost wishes he could go back inside.

“Hi.” She replies, she turns and leaves. He follows, already going through an apology speech in his head. When they get outside she stops by her car, turning to face him.

“Baby, look, I'm sorry. I-” He starts his speech but is cut off by her soft hands grasping his face. Her hands are warm on his cheeks and he brings his own hand up to rest on top of hers.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. He nods, his gorgeous brown eyes wide as he anticipates what she’s going to do next. She surprises him by leaning up to kiss him, pulling his head down to meet her lips. He sighs as she kisses him softly, his hands wrap around her middle - he pulls her as close as he can. He had been contemplating tonight being the end of this, all his worries that he had disappointed her melting away as he felt her smile against his lips.

“You’re an idiot.” She mumbled against his skin as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. He mirrored the grin on her face as he pulled away from her, she was still holding his face lovingly.

“I know.” He smirked. Shit, even after all this - a night of drinking, an apparent bar fight and a few hours in jail, he still looked gorgeous.

“So, am I taking you home or?” She trailed off, stepping away from him and rounding her car to the drivers side.

“Only if you’re coming with me.”

“We’ll go to mine then. I have work in the morning.” She says, and that guilty feeling almost returns, but when he sees the smirk on her face, he mirrors it with the same amount of enthusiasm.

When they enter her apartment, Tommy suddenly isn’t as nervous anymore. Alcohol still running through his veins and excited over the thought of getting to spend the night with his girl instead of in a fucking cell. She’s slipping her shoes off and placing her keys down on the shelf beside the door when he approaches her from behind, wrapping his arms around her - chin on her shoulder.

“You’re my goddamn hero.” He jokes, mumbling the words against her skin as he nuzzled into her neck.

“Sounds like you were the hero tonight.” She whispers back, placing her hands over his and leaning back into him. He’s pressing kisses along her neck as he responds.

“Yeah, and i got fuckin’ arrested for it.”

She laughs loudly, turning in his arms to kiss him again. More passionately and messily than in front of the police station. His hands grip her hips tighter, one traveling down to knead at her ass. Her own hands push his button up off of his shoulders, leaving him in just his white shirt. God, he looked good today. She can feel his cock through the front of his jeans as his hand on her ass pulls her forwards into him.

“I gotta admit,” She pulls away from him, his mouth tries to follow hers but she grasps his hand, leading him to her room. “It is kinda sexy, Thinking about you winning a fight.”

She decides that maybe he deserves a bit of a show after the night he’s had. He’s standing in the doorway watching her, his trademark smirk plastered onto his face as she slowly takes her shirt off - Tommy’s shirt, actually. Already braless from being woken up at midnight, the jacket she had thrown on top of his shirt has already been abandoned at the door. He couldn’t lie about noticing her nipples through her shirt as she’d taken the coat off earlier. He makes a show of crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame, the smirk now turned into a grin. One that she's mirroring as she unbuttons her jeans and slowly slides them down her legs. His eyes follow, once they trail over her hips and legs he decides he can’t take it anymore. Having her standing in front of him in nothing but panties is not how he thought this night was going to end.

“Fuck, baby.” His voice is noticeably deeper now as he comes to her, gripping her hips so she's against him. Her bare chest pressed against his clothed one. “I’m gonna give you the best thank you you’ve ever had.”

And with that, he crouches down to haul her up into his arms - her legs wrapping around his waist as she laughs above him. He presses a quick kiss to her lips before dropping her down onto the bed. It’s his turn to put on a show now as he rids himself of his own shirt. He kneels in front of her and presses a kiss to her ankle before grabbing them both and using them to haul her towards the end of the bed. His mouth is inches from her pussy and she sighs as she feels him pressing kisses up her legs. He’s always been a tease, he lives for the sounds she makes. He loves to see her squirm. And squirm she does as he begins to slowly suck and bite the skin on her thighs.

“Tommy.” She sighs his name and tugs on his hair and he swears his cock twitches in his jeans. “Please touch me.” Fuck, the effect she has on him is insane. He wants nothing more than to rip the denim off of his legs and fuck her into the matress, but he knows what she needs. And he will always give it to her. He presses one last kiss to her stomach before sliding her panties down her legs and throwing them behind him.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He whispers, just inches away from where she needs him. He used his thumbs to part her lips, a groan leaving his lips as he leaned in and dragged his warm tongue down the length of her. She sighed above him, her hands still holding onto his hair. He focuses on her clit, his tongue drawing tight circles over the nub. After a couple of strokes he closed his mouth around it, sucking gently.

“Shit, Tommy.” One of her legs lifted around his shoulder, her heel pushing him further towards her. He smiled against her, he loved pleasing her. She always thought about how lucky she had gotten with Tommy. A man who knows what he’s doing, and loves to do it. After playing with her clit for as long as she could take he pulled away. A beautiful smile on his face as he watched her squirm, her hands grasping his shoulders trying to push him back down.

“You wanna come for me, gorgeous?” He asked, breathless.

“Please.” She nods enthusiastically, just as breathless as him. “Please make me come!”

“Whatever you want princess.” He smirks, bringing his mouth back down to her pussy. His lips closed around her clit once more. He brings a hand up underneath his mouth, a single finger tracing her entrance before pushing inside. He moans against her when he feels how wet she is, adding another finger. She’s whining above him, moaning his name and pulling on his hair and he thinks about how he could definitely come like this. Shit, he has before. He fucks her with his fingers exactly the way he knows she likes, his tongue continuing to dance on her clit until she closes her thighs around his head.

“Oh fuck, Tommy!” She moans loudly, neither of them have time to think about her neighbors right now. “I’m gonna come.”

He continues what he’s doing as she grips harder on his hair, her legs closing tightly around his shoulders as she arches her back as she comes. He watches her face, she always looks so gorgeous like this. He fucking loves it. He fucking loves her. He keeps going until she's giggling breathlessly and pushing him away. He sits up, kneeling at the bottom of the bed between her legs, pressing one last kiss to her thigh before standing up and ridding himself of his jeans. She whimpers when she sees just how hard he is. He looks gorgeous as he stands above her, his cock flushed and leaking. He climbs on top of her to kiss her messily, her wetness still around his mouth as he pushes his tongue inside of hers.

“How do you want me?” She whispers against his lips.

“Fuck, turn around sweetheart.” He’s grinning at her as she follows his instructions. Turning around onto her stomach and leaning on her elbows. He takes a hold of her hips, pulling her ass up so he can get a view of her dripping pussy. “God I can't wait to fill you up, you ready for me?”

“I’m always ready for you.” She smiles at him over her shoulder. He groans at her words, realizing he cant wait any longer, he takes a hold of his throbbing cock and lines himself up to her glistening hole. They both moan as he pushes in, her warm walls welcoming him as they squeeze him in.

“So fuckin’ tight.” He whimpers as he begins to set a pace. “God, i fuckin’ love your pussy.”

She feels like his words make her more wet, if that's even possible.

“I love your cock, Tommy.” She moans as he fucks her slowly, holding himself back. He wants to enjoy her, but her heavenly cunt makes it so difficult. “Please, make me feel good.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I'm gonna.” He says through gritted teeth. He always does, but she loves to tease him. And she knows how much he loves to hear her beg for him. He continues to fuck her like this, picking up his pace eventually when she begins to whine for him to go faster. She breathes his name as his cock begins hitting just the right spot, her hands tightening around the bedsheets - needing something to hold on to. Her chest pressed up against the bedsheets, her body being thrust forward as Tommy fucks into her, adds deliciously to the stimulation. He knows her so well, he can feel when she's getting close. Her silky walls tighten around him, her hands clenching and unclenching as her back arches more. Her whines of his name becoming higher in pitch. He’s close too, so with a smack to her ass that makes her yelp he pulls out. She doesn’t have time to process as he turns her over climbing over her again to kiss her. She moans against his mouth, his soft lips and tongue mixing with her own. Her legs wrap around his body as he pushes into her again. Immediately setting a bruising pace, both of them too close to care.

“You gonna come for me baby? Yeah?” He eggs her on as she nods, desperately. “Come on baby come around my cock. Let me feel it.”

The sight of her reaching down to play with her clit as she comes undone beneath him is enough to do it for him.

“Where do you want it?” He hisses. He knows the answer, but he always asks anyway.

“Come inside me Tommy. I wanna feel you.” He practically whimpers her name as he empties inside of her. She pulls his face down towards her again, wanting to hold him close. He bites into her shoulder as she whimpers in his ear, still coming down from her own high. Both of them enjoying the feeling of him filling her pussy up.

“Holy shit.” She murmurs. A drowsy smile on her face as she plays with his hair until he eventually lifts his head from her shoulder. He laughs before pressing a kiss to her cheek. He sits up, pulling out of her and biting the inside of his cheek as he watches his come drip out of her.

“I love you.” She says, reaching for him again.

“I love you more.” He smiles as she pulls him down for a kiss. “You gotta sleep, not long until you need to get up for work.”

“Yeah,” She agrees, still trying out her breath. She stands up to make her way to the bathroom and stops at the door to say: “A long night of being a hero.” She hears him laugh from the bed as she shuts the bathroom door, her legs still slightly wobbly and tingling. He definitely kept his promise, the best damn thank you she’d ever had.

#Tommy miller #hbo tommy miller #tlou #the last of us #hbo the last of us #Tommy miller fic #Tommy miller x reader #Tommy miller x fem reader #Tommy miller smut #Gabriel luna #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #smut

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jackactuallywrites · 2 months

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Fuck, Marry, Caught

Pairing: Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x female reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Spanking, punishment

Summary: You write about how hot you think Gaz is, he finds out and punishes you for it (sexily obvs)

Notes: Apparently Gaz really inspires me because Lord the word count!

Word Count: 3,542

ao3 link

Special thanks to @xxven for making me a trope wheel to spin 😘

Obsession didn’t seem word enough to describe how you felt about Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick. You craved him, a deep yearning in the pit of your stomach, a desperate need, the way your lungs needed oxygen.

There was absolutely no question about whether you would ever reveal this desperation to the man himself; as a lowly Corporal, the sergeant was your superior, so not only would it be considered improper just in terms of fraternisation within the military, but in terms of rank. Highly improper, and yet that only served to make it more delicious to you, daydreaming about how you would have to hide your illicit affair with him, hooking up in the broom closets, in the corners of the air hangers, in every slightly hidden place across the base. It was this that kept you going through the duller days of service, an impure fantasy to titillate your mind when you were doing pointless busy work. That, and the fact that you always had your equally delusional friends to share your dreams of desperation and depravity with.

Like always, you had found yourself huddled up with the two of them in the corner of the airbase, the temperature in there always being a few degrees cooler than the heat outside, and you had found a loose bit of tarpaulin to bundle up underneath your heads as a makeshift pillow, allowing you to stare up at the sloping, ridged metal of the ceiling as you chatted. The topic, as usual, was the hotly debated rating of your superior officers.

Josh was the most recently outraged, his eyes wide and unbelieving as he stared at Tess, “You’re telling me you’re putting Ghost above Soap? You can’t even see his face!” Tess smiled and shrugged, “Oh, but isn’t that the appeal? If you don’t know what he looks like under the mask, you can imagine anything.” You had to agree with Tess; you understood the appeal of a masked man, especially a classic tall, dark and silent one like Ghost, but he still didn’t cinch the number one spot for you. You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could look at the other two, “I can’t believe that you two are sleeping on Gaz. I mean, have you seen that man?” You shook your head, “I mean, fuck that, you don’t even have to see him, have you heard him? I swear, that man has a voice like pure silky caramel. And by God, I want to taste it.” Josh shrugged, acquiescing to your views, “No, you know what? I can see it. He really is gorgeous.”

You’d been pushing the superiority of Gaz above the other soldiers for ages, and at long last, Joshua had finally given in and accepted your point of view. “Fucking finally. You have all been blind to that for far too long.” Tess rolled her eyes, “My God, you’re still on it with the Gaz infatuation?” You grin, “When am I ever off it? The man is a Greek god.” Tess snorted at you, “Like you’ve ever seen him naked.” You raised your eyebrows, wagging your finger at her to silence her before looking pointedly over at Josh. He sighed a little bashfully, “Well, I have seen him in the changing rooms. And Birdie isn’t wrong. Greek. God.” You grinned over at Tess, “See? That’s proven. Gaz is gorgeous. I don’t think anybody’s ever seen Ghost's body. That’s all conjecture.” Tess shrugged, “You have your fantasy, and I have mine.”

Now that you finally had Josh on your side, you brought out your little notepad from one of the many pockets, as well as a little pencil, “Now that the ayes officially have it-“ Tess snorted, “What are you, speaker of the fucking house?” You continued on as though she hadn’t interrupted, “Now that the ayes have it, we can finally put Gaz at the top of our list.” Josh gave out a lazy whoop, and you wrote out the name Sergeant Kyle Garrick at the top of the note, "And we've all agreed that Soap is next on the list, right?" Both Josh and Tess nodded; that much was absolute in your little group, and so you added Sergeant John MacTavish.

Josh leaned over to look at your notepad and scoffed at the simple way you'd written both names. "Really, Birdie? Your lack of flair consistently disappoints me." You rolled your eyes at him, "Alright then, you write it." He took your notepad, then took the pencil and wielded it with a flourish, spinning it between his fingers before he wrote in a far more elaborate script, vocalising the words as he wrote, "The Official List of the Hottest Soldiers." Tess snorted, "You make it sound so proper. Like we're not just thirsting over mean we can't have." You gestured to the notepad, "Add on that Corporal Waters is being a huge sourpuss about it." Josh grinned, writing what you dictated in the margins, "Corporal Waters' dissidence has been officially noted by the honourable Corporal Mills." “Note how shredded he is! And how that voice would sound in your ear when he’s-“

The grinding sound of the large hangar doors snapped you out of your revelry, and the three of you shot up from where you'd been laid, quickly getting to your feet lest you be caught slacking by any superior officers. Thankfully, you all knew the quickest route out of the hangar, scrambling after each other to escape the approaching footsteps, making sure you didn't leave a scrap of fabric that bore your name behind. It was all a well-rehearsed routine, yet there had been one fatal flaw—the notebook. You might have noticed it if you weren't in such a hurry to leave, yet one kick from Josh pushed it under the tarp you'd all been using as a pillow, and as it was out of sight, it was out of mind.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t out of your mind for long. The very second you’d stopped to catch your breath, a mile away from the hangar, you realised your fatal flaw. Your name was on that paper. Joshua had written it, and Tess had her name noted in dissidence, but yours had been credited as though you were the sole author. All you could do was pray they wouldn’t look under the tarp.

Two weeks later, you’d put that incident to the back of your mind, returning to your usual habits of daydreaming about Gaz, idly imagining what his body would look like in the shower, the droplets of water on his muscles, the dark curls that trailed down from his stomach that Joshua had spoken of. A perfect, delectable thought that kept you company as you worked in the tedium of logistics, endlessly tapping in numbers onto the spreadsheet as though it really mattered how many biscuits were currently in storage. What you would have given to have Josh or Tess come in to make a note of whatever they’d used during their daily mechanical duties. In fact, it was so dry you would have taken any grunt coming in to break up the day.

It was clear that someone up there had a sense of humour. Not a second after you’d pleaded for something to break up the monotony, the man himself, Sergeant Garrick, had come through your door.

You’d been on the base through several firefights, listening to rockets fired and praying that they wouldn’t hit anyone, but this seemed to cinch the top spot for the most afraid you’d ever been. He was here, standing before you, his warm brown eyes looking you over, and you had to question, did he know?

“Corporal Mills.” The way your name sounded pouring out of his mouth sounded like pure treacle, as though he’d put emphasis on sounding as alluring as possible. Suddenly, it seemed as though your mouth had been filled with sand, your tongue dry, your brain spinning as you took a second to reboot your consciousness. “Sergeant. How can I help you?” “I believe I’ve found something of yours.”

Your heart seemed to drop out of your chest as you saw him bring out your notebook, your name written in block letters on the very last page. Gaz seemed to notice the fear in your eyes, and a very smug smile spread across his lips. “Something to tell me, Corporal?” You blinked, trying to think of a quick lie on the spot, coming up with the laziest answer, “Is that mine? I’m pretty sure mine is in the storeroom somewhere. That one must be someone else’s.” He laughed, “You’re telling me a soldier in the Royal Logistics Corps misplaced something? Isn’t keeping track of things your whole job?” You gave him a slightly bashful smile, “Nobody’s perfect.” He raised a brow, tilting his head at you, “So I should track down Corporal Waters and reprimand them?”

You might have been a liar and somewhat of a degenerate, but you were never one to betray a friend, so you pretended to take a closer look at the notebook as if you’d only recognised it at that moment, “Oh, that is mine.” As you reached out to take it, Gaz pulled it away from him, tutting at you, “I’m sorry; did you think you were getting it back with absolutely no punishment?” Of course, you’d expected that much; superior officers always loved to take the opportunity to dole out absurd punishment. You dropped your head, hoping to look regretful enough that he wouldn’t be too harsh, “I guess I do deserve that. I’ll accept anything you deem appropriate recourse.” He trailed his fingers in a circle on your notepad, “Anything?”

It was impossible to know where you were, just imagining the sultry look in his eyes or the practical purr in his voice. Yet, you weren’t about to make a fool of yourself by making assumptions based on nothing more than endless fantasies, so you chose to play it safe. “Whatever you see fit, sir.” He smiled again, “Good. Come with me.” “Right now?” He raised a brow at you, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “Unless you’d rather have a traditional military punishment?” It seemed as though you’d fallen out of usual life and into some sort of wondrous fantasy, and you weren’t about to waste your one chance with Kyle Garrick. “No, sir.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling, “Come along then, Corporal.”

Your superiors would undoubtedly be absolutely appalled at the speed with which you abandoned your post, yanking down the shutters in your eagerness to trot after Gaz like an obedient little dog. He seemed to know the quietest corridors, as you didn’t pass a single other soul, making you feel all the more like a dirty little secret of his, not that you minded in the slightest. Your mind was focused on little else but the prospect of what pleasure awaited you, your heart thudding loudly in your chest, already feeling the excitement building in your stomach, trailing down between your legs. Perhaps you were a little overly optimistic, but you couldn’t help but let your mind run wild, desperate for even the slightest bit of physical contact from him.

At long last, Gaz stopped in front of a locked wooden door, rummaging in his pocket for a key. He unlocked it for you, opening the door and standing aside as he waited for you to enter, which you did abruptly, barely holding on to your last shred of patience. You could hear Gaz’s huff of amusement, no doubt amused by your unabashed desire for him, and he locked the door behind him, turning around to face you.

“So.” He began, and you sat on the edge of his desk, trying not to seem too desperate, but Gaz clicked his tongue at you, “What do you think you’re doing?” You looked at him questioningly, “Sitting on your desk?” He tutted, shaking his head, “I don’t think so. This is supposed to be a punishment, is it not? Bend over the desk.”

For a second, you weren’t entirely sure you’d heard him correctly, your brain seeming to short-circuit for a second. Gaz raised his brows, “Every second is another added to your punishment.” You hesitated, but you obeyed, turning around and bending over the desk, letting your chest rest on the flat wooden surface, stretching your arms out in front of you, your fingers clinging onto the far edge. Gaz approached you from behind, though you couldn’t see him, only hear his footsteps grow closer, the anticipation beginning to build between your legs. Suddenly, you felt his hand on your lower back, trailing across to your hip, his fingers reaching around to find the button of your trousers, deftly unbuttoning them with one hand, then tugging down your zipper. He bent over you, sending a shock up your spine as you felt the length of his hardness press up against your ass, his chest against your back as he leant down to murmur in your ear, his other hand bracing on the desk, “Safeword is pineapple, darling. Nod if you understand.” You nodded, and he straightened up, tugging down your trousers until they fell around your ankles. His hands shifted to your lower back again, starting on their slow path over your arse and briefly pausing between your legs long enough to stroke the entirety of your slit over the thin cloth of your underwear before resting on your ass.

“I think ten smacks is about right for misplacing personal equipment, don’t you?” You weren’t about to disagree, giving him another silent nod. He trailed his finger up and down the soft skin of your behind before bringing his hand down in a swift smack, sending pain and pleasure radiating through your core, and you couldn’t help but let out a little whimper, seeming to have discovered something new about yourself. His other hand trailed over your hip and down between your legs as the other one caressed your ass, his fingers beginning to rub you over your pants. The moment you relaxed into pure pleasure, he brought his hand down in a swift smack again, jolting you forward on the table. Your pleasure was more tangible now, and you groaned into the hard wooden surface, your fingers clinging onto the side for dear life as his fingers started moving against your more sensitive clit, his hands coming down against your arse twice in quick succession.

“You’ll have to beg for these next ones, sweetheart.” At this point, you weren’t going to resist anything Gaz said; any remaining sense of embarrassment completely vanished in the face of your desperation, your voice coming out as an almost unrecognisable plead, “Please.” His thumb stroked tenderly over the slightly sore skin of your arse, “Please, what?” You bit your lip, “Please, hit me again.” He obliged you, hitting you sharply, yet now his fingers were breaching the edge of your underwear and tugging them to the side, his fingers soft against your sensitive skin, caressing you gently before he slowly began to slip his fingers inside you, his thumb resting on your clit. You could feel yourself growing wetter as he sank his finger into you completely, and yet it was missing something, even as you were drowning in pleasure. Without prompting, you led out another pleading whine, “Please, hit me again.”

Gaz obliged you eagerly, giving you a swift smack, his finger beginning to pump in and out of you, his thumb beginning to move in circles around your clit, slowly setting you alight with pleasure, your hips beginning to buck back against his finger. You didn’t need to ask for another one, as already he was bringing his hand down against your increasingly tender behind, jerking you forwards on the desk again, his fingers slightly coming out of you, and then he grabbed your hip and pulled you back, now sliding two of his fingers inside you, gently stretching you open. Your body was practically desperate for him now, and you needily pressed back against him.

“You’re just desperate for me, aren’t you?” He purred down at you, his hand moving from your ass to your lower back, caressing you through your shirt, and you whimpered on the desk, beginning to lose those tiny shreds of composure you had left as you begged, “Please.” His hand spread over your lower back, pinning you down to the desk, and his voice became slightly strained, “Not yet.” He smacked your ass again, now pressing a third finger into your needy pussy, your body needing no further stretching at this point, completely relaxed and open for him. He left out a soft growl, leaning down over you, his chest pressed against your back, pinning you down as he reached over you to pull out a drawer, rummaging inside before you heard the sound of crinkling foil, your breathing quickening as you realised what he had brought out. Both of his hands briefly left your body as he quickly undid his trousers, and you heard the tearing of the foil packet, your body dripping with excitement as you felt him press up against you once again, one hand on your ass, the other guiding his dick down to your sopping wet pussy, the tip at your entrance, piquing your desperation as you felt him press into you, the pressure slowly building before he began to sink into you, one inch at a time, every single one more pleasurable than the one before.

Your nails dug into the wooden desk hard enough to crack the veneer, a soft moan escaping your lips as you felt him fill you up entirely. Gaz had been in complete control the entire time, yet now he was beginning to let out quiet moans himself, his other hand shifting away from his dick to your hip, gripping you tightly as he finally bottomed out inside you. He let out a short breath, rubbing his thumb over your hip, “Fuck me, you feel good.”

Words were beyond you now, only able to focus on the feeling of him inside you, pushing yourself against him, and he rewarded you with a sharp smack, sending you forward on the desk, yet he quickly yanked you back into his cock, not allowing you a second to recover from the sensations. His other hand shifted around from your hip, underneath your pants and back to your clit again, two fingers beginning to rub in a small circle as he slowly began to fuck you, small thrusts at first, then growing longer and more forceful. You could feel the pleasure building up inside you, and you bit your lip, arching your back as much as you could on the desk, and Gaz needed little encouragement, fucking you harder as he smacked your arse again, mixing pain and pleasure so tantalisingly, your body beginning to tighten as your orgasm approached, and you begged him, “Please, don’t stop Gaz, please.”

Gaz’s hand quickened in rubbing circles around your clit, and you pushed back against him to try and feel as much of him as you could, and he rewarded you with another spank as he fucked you more ferociously, coaxing your orgasm out of you until it hit you hard, crashing over you in waves, yet he didn’t stop, smacking your ass again as he drove himself into you over and over until finally, he came in a single long stroke, gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises as he leant down on top of you, resting on your back, his breath heavy in your ear.

The two of you stayed like that for some time, allowing your bodies to come down from the high still pressed together. Gaz was the one to move first, lifting himself off of you and gently pulling out, his hands trailing down over your back as he did so. Your brain quietly came back into control of your body, though you weren’t all that keen to get up, your legs still feeling rather jelly-like. Gaz placed a box of tissues in front of you, allowing you to take one and give yourself a quick clean-up, deciding that you’d shower when you returned to your barracks. You tossed the tissues in the waste bin, then hoisted your trousers back up, standing up from where you’d been sprawled over the desk. Gaz had already returned to his intimidatingly pristine self, yet he looked at you kindly, a slight smirk on his face, “Well. I didn’t expect to be so tempted. Or for you to be so loud.” He grinned at you, “I shouldn’t keep you. Logistics keep the base running.”

You had no problem departing quickly, desperate to update Tess and Josh on this new unexpected chapter of your life, and you nodded, throwing him a slight smirk, “Remind me to lose my notebook more often.” Gaz chuckled, unlocking the door for you and peering around to ensure there were no stragglers in the hallway. As you left, he smacked your ass again, and you groaned, already tempted to go back into his office but knowing that your duties -and gossip- awaited.

#jack writes #cod smut #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #kyle gaz x you #gaz smut #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you

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sashi-ya · 1 year

Text

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 to 𝐋𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚 +18. Uni Literature Professor! Aizen x f! virgin! reader.

✦ requested by @zella07: Hiii sashii how are you doing? I just saw the requests are open I’m soo excited can I request Sōsuke Aizen x female reader? NsFw. please thank you 🙏🏻 ➜ well of course my sweet friend, please, be my guest and enjoy 🤭. ✦ tw: +18. MDNI. virgin! reader. age gap (20years ~) reader is ~20 y/o. uni student. taking your virginity. creampie. masturbation. public. ✦ wc:3.4k ✦ masterlist

The way he fixes his glasses, the way his big hands open the book. The way his fingers run through his chocolate hair, the sweet smirk, the calming soft tone of his voice, the subtle shadow under his eyes…

You aren’t just an innocent professor, Aizen. Aren’t you? you aren’t just an innocent student. Right, (name)?.

Caramel eyes fix on yours from time to time, spying you from over his laptop. You can feel his sight as piercing as if he was touching you, penetrating you with his intense gaze.

Your cheeks burn, the tip of your ears too. The back of your pencil dances in your mouth, barely bitten by your front teeth, making your lower lip pout so delicately… what a delicious victim for a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.

He stands up, with an old book in his hand a smirk on his lips.

“So, can someone please tell me what does “L'Histoire de Juliette ou les Prospérités du vice” tells us about?” Aizen asks, sitting on the corner of his desk and crossing his long legs.

Some blush, others think. Literature is not just romantic sweet books; some are full of angst, and some are written by the Marquis de Sade. The day where erotica will be discussed to your literature classes has finally arrived.

You put down your pencil. It is shiny because of your saliva, and you haven’t even noticed. Lifting your hand, you wait for Mr. Aizen to notice you. And he does.

“Yes, dear (Name)?” he puts the book down, dedicating a full smile to you.

“Juliette is a story of violent pornography depictions but also intricated philosophical concepts that are truly dark… Classic Marquis de Sade” you answer, remembering how such novel had been your first erotic book you can recall ever reading.

He seems pleased. Aizen wanted to hear those words coming from your lips; he wanted to indulge into the idea of his sweet young student swimming into the deepest depraved waters of such novel.

“Very good, (Name). Tell me, did you read it?” he asks, he needs to be sure.

“I did, Mr. Aizen. “Juliette or Vice Amply Rewarded” is an exquisite work of art” you answer back, with a rather trembly voice and a soft bouncy leg under your desk. You swallow. It’s depraved, it’s dark and you are admitting publicly that you have read it.

He doesn’t say much more, but you can tell his eyes are now bathed by an aura of pride and something else you can’t quite recognize… or perhaps you can, and it seems to be hunger, lust, and immorality.

“I will ask you all to please read the book. By the end of the month, you should have a full analysis written. As for now, let’s start studying the author, shall we?”

The class goes by smoothly. There isn’t a better professor than him. And it’s not a coincidence that his classes are the most packed of all; in order to get a spot you need to rush the day the inscriptions open. Some, of course, aren’t there because of how amazing he is explaining literature but because of his looks. He is more than handsome, Aizen has something else that attracts women and men; he is naturally enticing, the way he speaks, the way he moves…

Two hours and a half are gone. Time flies when it comes to Sosuke’s classes. As you pick everything up and prepare to leave, a book slides on your desk. Your eyes scan the hand that rests on top of the cover, and slowly they go up to find out one of your stupid classmates.

“Wh- what?” you ask, you aren’t at uni to make friends. Much less with men. “So you have read the book? Can you tell me what is it about? Porno you said?” a smelly youngster asks you with a stupid smile that perhaps wants to portray sexual interest.

You grimace.

“Uh… yes. But… you should read it, is not exactly what you think” you murmur, closing with violence the zipper of your backpack.

“Oh… yeah? It’s like old people’s porn? Ha! Bet you really like to read about it” he spits, earning a look of total disgust coming from you.

“Is not the type of porn you are used to watch, dude. Can you please go away, I wanna go home” you tell him, trying to stand up. But he won’t let you.

A sudden hand lands on that asshole’s shoulder. “Miss (Name), I’d like to discuss something before you leave. Can you make some time for me?” Mr. Aizen tells you with a soft smile, while almost crushes that guy’s shoulder.

You blink twice, but them smile back at him. A little giggle slips out of your lips as the guy who had been annoying you begins to cough and silently runs away. Aizen looks like an angel, but his presence alone can make any other man run away.

You lower your gaze. His eyes are intimidating. “Thank you, professor” you murmur, standing up.

“No problem, (Name). Now, do you think you could really stay?” he asks, showing you, he wasn’t just making that up to scare that boy away.

A wave of heat hits your guts. The air feels heavy for some seconds. He really wants you to stay… “Uh, sure! I don’t have to work tonight, so I can stay. Is something the matter, sensei?”

Your professor, who is at least two decades older than you, beams in total satisfaction. Letting you know you are more than weak for him and all of those nights in which you have written endless erotic stories thinking of him haven’t been a mere dream.

“Oh no, don’t worry! I wanted to ask you about something. It’s ok if you can’t do it, but since you have already read Juliette, what about giving me your analysis before the end of the month? In exchange I will give you the freedom to choose any other erotic novel you wish to read and by the end of the month you could send in a different analysis” he suggests, walking towards his desk. You can see the way the small of his back looks just by how well his white shirt falls around his waist.

You gasp; you well understand why he is asking you this. Is not that he wants to punish you, he really wants to give you more freedom to read whatever you please. You have won the “teacher’s pet” title apparently… and you love it.

“Yes! I will! Thank you so much, Professor Aizen!” you chime, excitedly. And soon you took your hands to your mouth… did you just shown him what your favourite literature genre was?

Aizen walks around his desk, dragging sloppily his index on top of it. Sensually touching that surface, making you wish it was your skin.

You swallow, because his subtle scoff makes your back to arch unconsciously, your pupils to dilate and your core to throb.

“Very well, (Name). I’m glad you are committed to what you truly enjoy. I hate to force certain genres into some students, but you are a delight. Being your professor is very stimulating” he says, barely whispering.

His voice gets lower and raspier the more he speaks to you, but what makes you shiver are those words… he poetically chose to show how much he desires you. You are sure about it.

“The pleasure is mine, professor Aizen. I will hate the day these classes are over” you whisper, biting your lower lip immediately after. You unconsciously press your books against your chest, as if you were searching for some kind of relief; some kind of desperate touch.

Aizen grabs his suitcase and fixes his glasses. His hand, once again, brushes his hair back. “Let’s go and search for a good book at the library then” he orders.

You nod, pressing your books harder against your breasts to the point your nipples can feel it. And Aizen can clearly notice it. He very well knows about the effect he has on young students like you.

You follow him, the halls are already pretty empty. The last class is always the one the students will leave faster. Many hurry to get to their late-night jobs in time, others because are simply tired and want to go back to their rooms to sleep.

But definitely none of them would like to visit the library on a Friday night after a whole week of tiring classes… anyone but you…

The subtly white lights of each table barely illuminates the space. It’s as empty as you expected, and frankly not even the librarian seems to be at the counter during those hours.

“Ah… seems empty. What a pity, I wish more students would enjoy reading like you, (Name)… Do you know where erotica books are?” he asks, so nonchalantly.

Truth is, that you do know. You aren’t only a passive enjoyer of erotic literature; you even indulge on writing and posting it online… With a simple nod you take the lead. Aizen follows you, and you can sense his eyes tracing a path from your neck to the small of your back with his eyes. Or maybe that’s just what you wish he was doing… Indulging in your imagination is something you usually do, and it is as wrong, as tempting.

When you get to the little section of plus eighteen books you show them to your professor shily pointing at them.

He scoffs, sexily. “I will read the same you pick for the assignment” he says, leaving the suitcase on the little table near the bookcase. Aizen enjoys the way your fingertips run through the spines of each book. Until one catches your attention.

“Have you read Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, Aizen sensei?” you ask, pretty sure he did but still curious.

“Interest choice, (Name). I will read it” he murmurs, with a smirk that leaves you breathless.

You nod, picking the only copy available. You hand the book to him, grazing so softly his fingers. He inspects the cover page; he is making you so anxious and you have no idea why… what are you waiting for him to do?

“(Name), why did you pick this one? Is it because you wanna go deep into the moral aspects? Or because you enjoy immorality?” he asks, scanning the pages quickly.

You feel your heart about to jump from your chest, your breathing shortening. “I- uhh… I-“ you stutter, you aren’t really sure why you exactly chose such polemic novel.

And if oxygen wasn’t going inside you, it finally stops flowing completely to your lungs when his hand reach for your cheek as he bends forward to you. His thumb grazes your lip with such delicacy but so erotically that you can feel your knees failing to keep you standing.

“Do you find their age gap enticing? Or maybe the new experiences Lolita wants to try with Professor Hubert?” he asks, pushing his thumb in between your lips.

You blink slowly, letting his finger touch the tip of your tongue. Even such little touch tastes delicious, just as you imagined. Truth is, that you worship Aizen sensei as if he was a god. The god and guardian of your libidinous dreams.

“I… the- age…” you stutter, as he takes his glasses off with his free hand. He throws his head back just a little, and the sharpness of his mandible presents in front of you. You feel like an animal whose been deprived from food for so long… you just wanna jump and bite, and lick, and smell his neck… where this all has came from? You haven’t even touched a man in your life before, even at your age at which many of your friends already had immeasurable experience.

Aizen puts the glasses on top of the desk, slowly pushing you with his chest to it too. Your ass hits the table, your hands grab tightly to the edges of it. Nails carved in that old wood, toes curling inside your shoes. You can only feel surrounded by Aizen topping presence, and the subtle scent of his masculine fragrance.

You look up at him with puppy eyes that make him madly attracted to your innocence. “Tell me something, (Name)… all of those books have taught you well?” he asks, acknowledging your virginity so accurately.

You are amazed at how fast he was able to tell you haven’t ever tried the honeys of sex, and you can’t help but blindly wish he would be your first. Oh… and he will, darling.

He reaches for your thighs, sitting you over the table. “Were those books enough, or you wish for me to teach you?” he whispers, taking his lips closer to yours.

You let him approach you more and more, almost at the verge of fainting. You have waited for so long, just to let a man like him to take you. You feel dizzy, lightheaded. You can tell even your lips are throbbing, the blood pumping from your heart getting with strength at every inch of your body.

“I wish for Aizen sensei to teach me, please ~” you murmur, feeling the soft graze of his lips against yours. Drunken with pleasure, and slightly jolting when his hot palm lands on your thigh. And it goes up, under your skirt… so indecently searching for something he is sure he will find in the centre of your femininity… arousal pooling just because and for him.

“Heh… let’s focus this first lesson on your senses… shall we?” he orders, covering your eyes with his palm while his lips struck yours and his tongue mercilessly violates your mouth.

You gasp, receiving his indecent intrusion. You do as he tells; focus on your senses… The touch of his wet tongue against yours, flowing so organically one with the other. The taste of his mouth that’s so delicious. The scent of his perfume, musky, and masculine. The sound of a kiss so full of lust, reverberating with soft moans coming from you and low grunts coming from him.

The hand that’s been traveling up your leg finally finds the wet spot he has been wanting to reach. “So wet already… were you waiting for this, (Name)? Aren’t you a little bit corrupted?” he jokes, as if he wasn’t corrupt enough for taking you right there in such public spot at his work place.

“I… it’s because it’s you… professor Aizen ~” you purr, allowing your arms to rest on his shoulders.

He beams with sloppy eyelids, looking at you from the side with his fingers already in between your panties and sex. “Because of me? Are those stories you write inspired on me, (Name)?” he asks, showing you how much of a stalker he had been of your social media.

“Ai… Aizen sensei! You read my stories?” you ask, widening your eyes and soon spasming from his fingers penetrating your entrance. You bite your lips, pressing your forehead to his with subtle moans that you try to muffle.

He slowly goes in and out, trying the stretching capability of your walls. Sosuke is so pleased to find you are so pretty tight even to his fingers and he can only fantasize on how well his dick will feel once he is inside you.

“Of course, sweetheart. I told you; you are a delight of a pupil… that’s why you are so stimulating to me” he mumbles, whispering in your ear. “Will you write about this one experience, too? Let me help you with that too, please”

You tremble, your nails carve marks on the table as he alternates fingering and circles around your erected clit. You feel like losing control, like something unstoppable being unleashed inside you. And Aizen enjoys lifting your legs up to make you a lot more dilated than before.

He makes sure there is nobody around and proceeds to lower the zipper of his black formal pants. “Do you want me to teach you what it feels to have a man inside you, (Name)?” he asks, before doing anything else. Apparently he is still a gentleman despite the age difference, and the perverted idea of a professor fucking his student.

You nod biting your lower lip, still panting because of his unstoppable finger torture. “P-pwease, Aizen sensei… take me… teach me… be my first…” you whine, with eyes semi open, watching his perverse stare in between your almost touching eyelashes.

“That’s a very good girl… please, spread those beautiful legs for your sensei then”

You can feel how his hardness touches your entrance but doesn’t enter still. With your panties barely pushed to the side, it’s enough for your fluids to mix in one slippery cocktail of lust.

“I will be gentle with you, ok? I promise it won’t hurt” he whispers, kissing your cheek. Not only he is teaching you, but he pretends to take a caretaker role… because he knows he can. Because he knows he doubles your age, and because he knows you want it so bad. The upstanding professor Sosuke Aizen ended up being such a depraved man, after all…

“Yeah… yes thank you, Professor Aizen ~”

He attacks your lips once more, while one of his hands slowly massages one of your breasts over your blouse and the other one slowly reaches for the small of your back.

Sosuke slowly pulls you towards him, and you can feel the tip of his sex barely making some pressure on your labia. Is not yet enough to go inside, but the unhurried torture of the unknown feeling of having him inside is killing you…and you aren’t scared, the thing is that you can’t wait no more… you are dying to feel full of him, to give your precious treasure to him.

“I… please…” you plead, ripping a sexy laugh from him with his lips pressed against yours.

“You can’t wait no more, right? You want it badly, sweetheart? We should take it slow, I wanna enjoy making you a woman!” he taunts you, playing with your need, rejoicing in the chills and bumps of your skin the more he waits to make you his.

You cross your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Perhaps you aren’t doing this on purpose, and it’s just instinct and need. And Aizen knows it very well, you are ready for defloration…

“Don’t scream, bite my shoulder” he commands, pushing delicately your head towards his neck. He caresses your hair, and you can feel how he slowly opens his way inside your entrance. First, resting a few seconds right at the start of your sex and the slowly sliding himself inside.

You feel your walls stretching and soft inside “pop”. A pleasant pain that soon changes from a slight burn to an explosion of pleasure. And your teeth carved in his shoulder with a muzzled moan that will accompany Aizen’s memories forever.

��Ngh.. you are doing so good… you have no idea how good you feel around me… your virginal tightness” he grunts under his breath as his hips die to move faster.

“Am I, Aizen-sensei?” you ask, with incipient tears pooling on your eyes. It feels like heaven to be penetrated by him, to hear his soft moans of pleasure, his grunts as you expertly milk him with your walls.

He grunts, hallucinated by the way you suck him in with nothing but your spasming core. “Why- you… you where did you learn to do that? I… stop-” he frowns and tightens his jaw. He is clearly suffering, because he wants to last but it looks like he won’t be able to do so.

You giggle… “from the novels I read, Professor Aizen ~”

Aizen swallows; he has stopped hugging you and now his hand slaps the table right next to your left hip. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you? You wanna be full of my cum, little depraved one?” he asks, seriously, stopping the thrusts just to make sure you know where you got yourself into.

“Fill me up, Aizen Sosuke…” you purr into his ear, biting his earlobe after.

ㅤㅤ“Gladly, sweetheart… please, keep it all inside for me”

#aizen sōsuke #aizen x reader #aizen sousuke #aizen sosuke x reader #sosuke aizen #aizen bleach #bleach x reader #bleach #bleach anime #bleach x reader fanfic #bleach fanfic #muken aizen #sashi ya #aizen smut

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rom-e-o · 5 months

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The Call - Ebenezer/Constance Modern!AU

A continuation of Ebenezer and Constance's meeting in a modern and AU setting. Here, they FINALLY set up a first date!

This story also includes characters from @quill-pen and her universe, including her Ebenezar/Wolf, Bess, Addie, and Gal, as well as characters like Eddie and Pippersnipe that have manifested through shared headcanon discussions!

The sound of the cottage added further chaos to the already bursting cottage.

“Oh, yay! Pizza’s here!”

“I thought we were only making snacks for tonight. I just popped popcorn!”

“Who the heck complains about pizza?”

“You gals are like bloody garbage disposals – how can you eat so much?” Eddie asked.

“Oi, ladies, can we start this flick ‘ometime in the next fifty years?”

After each woman had filled their plates with pizza and grabbed a glass of their favorite wine, the group filed into the cottage’s cozy living room and piled in front of the television for a much-needed movie night.

“Here you go, Eddie,” Constance said as she handed the older woman a hearty plate of food and a flute of her favorite blackberry liqueur.

“Tryna to get me liquored up, are ya?” she asked playfully as she accepted the very full flute.

“That’s what sleepovers with the girls are for!” Constance teased in return, giving her shoulders a playful squeeze before making sure her blanket with tucked in place.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen ‘Anastasia’ – it’s a classic!” Bess exclaimed to Addie, who giggled as she assumed a spot on the floor. She put the bowl of freshly popped popcorn between them. “Gosh, I used to watch this with Millie on repeat when she was younger. I could probably recite it word for word.”

“Try t' contain y'self, Lass,” Gal said, stealing a fistful of popcorn as she fell into her seat of choice.

“Sorry, I’ve just … never had a reason to see it,” Addie reasoned with a shrug. “But I’m excited! Is it a romance?”

“Oh-ho! 'Tis a MUSICAL ROMANCE!” Gal corrected. She was lying across one of their tufted armchairs, her back resting on one armrest while her legs rested atop the other, socked feet bobbing up and down. “Wit' talkin' critters too.”

“How are you familiar with ‘Anastasia’, Gal?” Bess asked curiously as she twisted her long, dark hair into an updo. “It doesn't quite seem like your type of movie?”

“Eh, I dun'mind a princessy tale now and again,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. When the stares from her friends didn’t relent, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Also, Jake fancies it.”

Amused cooing erupted from the other ladies.

“If ye tell 'im I told ye, I'll knock ye brains out an' serve 'em as fritters!”

“Eh, leave the poor man alone, it’s a cute little movie,” Eddie added, who was comfortably situated on the room’s other armchair, which sat opposite of Gal’s. “The mousy lad she falls for is quite the darling. A little young and an awful dresser, but I think I could fix him up nicely.”

“Shhh, no spoilers!”

“I haven’t seen it either, Addie,” Connie chimed in, reaching down from her position on the couch to take her hand, lace their fingers, then swing their hands like a pendulum back and forth. “We can be surprised together!”

“Seriously, you too?” Bess asked. “How did I not know that? I would have fixed this long ago!”

The redhead shrugged. “I just don’t watch movies very often.”

“Now, that is not true, Con,” she refuted, poking her friend in the knee. “You have a weird taste in movies, not a non-existent one. I know WAY too much about what happens in the ‘Sex and the City’ movies because of you alone.”

“W-Well…” she went to argue as Gal snickered from her position in the chair.

Truth be told, it would be nice to have the distraction of a movie for the evening. While Connie was doing her best to play it cool, her mind and heart were still racing from her morning shift.

That was when, motivated by her friends’ insistence and reasoning, she had found the courage to write her phone number on the cup of Ebenezer Samuel Scrooge’s morning order. It had taken weeks of build-up and peer pressure to take the seemingly small step, but it had been preceded by maddening amounts of flirting.

As if giving him her cell number wasn’t enough, she’d written the note ‘Call me~” right beneath it, and signed it with the letter ‘C’ for good measure.

That had been seven hours ago. And not a single call or text had come through.

Crickets.

Nada.

Goose egg.

With a sigh, she slipped her phone into the kangaroo pocket of her oversized sweatshirt and took a bug gulp of her wine. Well, she’d probably just lost her best customer. That would be fun to confess to her boss on Monday.

“Okay, everyone ready?” Addie asked as she reached for the remote to start the film. “Annnnd … play!”

About halfway through the film, after the two jumbo pizzas had been demolished, Constance felt a buzzing from her pullover’s pocket. She’d silenced the phone for the movie, not expecting anyone to reach out to her (after all, all her friends – aside from her mom and their landlord Mr. Pippersnipe) were in the room with her.

Constance glanced down at her phone and saw a familiar number flash across the top of the screen. She hadn’t created a contact profile for the number yet, but she knew it by heart already after weeks of seeing his number amongst her daily orders.

“It’s him!” Constance exclaimed as she all but shot out of her seat. “H-He’s calling me! H-He really is!”

Gal practically spat out her drink.

The other girls collectively gasped while Bess turned to shush them. “PAUSE! EVERYONE SHUT UP!”

“W-Who? Wait, is it that handsome man from the coffee shop?” Addie asked, which made Constance blush bright red before nodding. “Oooooh, it is!”

“I’ll be damned – the blighter has a backbone!” Eddie cheered, hoisting her flute. “Now you can check that front-bone of his, too.”

“Eddie!”

“MISSION CONTROL, WE HAVE CONFIRMATION THE ADONIS HAS MADE CONTACT WITH THE SUN!” Bess continued, scrambling for the television remote. “Pause! Ugh, at least MUTE, darn you!”

‘Adonis’ was an affectionate nickname Constance and her friends had given to the silver-haired man that frequented the New Grounds Coffee Co. daily. It never needed explanation because, as soon as one saw a picture of the man, the reason for the name was evident.

“W-What do I do?” Constance asked.

“ANSWER IT!” all the girls cried in unison (“And put ‘em on speaker!” Eddie chimed in loudly before Addie frantically shushed her).

Constance took the deepest breath she’d ever taken before accepting the call.

“Um, h-hello, this is Constance,” she spoke timidly into the receiver.

“Constance! I’m glad you picked up. Um, hello. I-It’s Ebenezer.”

Her heart did backflips at the excited tremor in his voice. “H-Hi! I thought I recognized your number, haha. I’m glad you called.”

Now on her feet and pacing around in her black shorts and crumb-covered pullover, she was so thankful he hadn’t opted for a video call. While it was always nice to see him (literally, he was a treat for the eyes), she knew she looked like an absolute mess, with wine-stained lips and her hair in an updo that nothing but a shower could help.

She they talked, she saw her friends watching in intrigued, their reactions running the gambit from eager cheering to sly, flirtatious lip puckers.

“Are you busy?” he asked.

“Um, not really,” she replied truthfully, frantically gesturing for the girls to stay quiet. “I’m just at home. I-I hope you are too. It’s cold out.”

From her vantage point in the kitchen, she could see the beginnings of a gentle snowfall dusting the surrounding buildings in a flimsy layer of frost.

“I just finished at the office, actually,” confided, his voice low. “It’s been a long day, so I wanted to warm up with a drink before I left. I did want to give you a call as soon as I could. To tell you the truth, I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

Constance was sure she looked like a crazy person as she spun in excited circles at his admission, but she was far too happy to care. “Really? I’m kind of relieved to hear that, actually! I’m glad I didn’t scare you off.”

“Hardly,” he replied with a warm laugh. “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

“Oh, please don’t apologize! You were working. I’m just glad to hear you can head home soon.”

“You’re very sweet,” Ebenezer said, and her heart leapt again at his praise. His voice always got a little rumbly when he was pleased, and the melty effect it gave her legs was just as effective over the phone. “Constance, I wanted to ask … um, are you off this Saturday? We’re supposed to have a break in this cold front, and I was wondering if might be interested in going out to dinner to enjoy it?”

He was asking her out! It was REALLY happening!

She mouthed out ‘Dinner date!’ to the girls. The reveal was immediately greeted with silent clapping and eager thumbs-ups. Of course, Eddie mouthed back an ‘I told you so’, complete with a pointed finger to accentuate her correctness.

“I would love that,” Constance replied, tousling her hair nervously while she answered. “I’m free all afternoon and evening that day, honestly.”

The second the admission crossed her lips, she felt instant regret. Great, she thought. Now he probably thought she sounded desperate and needy for attention. Yet, Ebenezer only laughed again (goodness, his laughter was so nice – she could listen to it all day, every day).

“Fantastic! Would 8 p.m. work? There’s a fabulous restaurant on the riverfront called Estella’s that I think you’d enjoy.”

Estella’s on a Saturday night? The restaurant was well known for only serving London’s most upper of upper class. Without connections, it was nearly impossible to get a table.

“I’ve heard of it – it’s very exclusive! I-I hear it’s really hard to get in.”

“I think we should be fine,” Ebenezer said, his tone confident but not arrogant.

Unbeknownst to her, he was eyeing a reservation email in his inbox that confirmed the details of the dinner. He’d reached out to the restaurant’s owner and successfully booked the space before even calling to mention it to her. That way if she accepted his invitation, there would be no risk of him not being able to fulfill it. The last thing he wanted to do on a long-awaited date with the first woman he’d had a crush on in literal decades was not deliver on a first-date promise.

“Can I pick up at 7:15 p.m. or so? I know it’s early, but if we have some extra time beforehand, there’s a lovely lounge on the restaurant’s second floor with a nice artwork display. We could grab a drink or two as well. I-If you wouldn’t mind that, that is.”

“That sounds so lovely,” she answered. Heavens, how long had it been since she’d been on a date that sounded so nice? Why, it probably hadn’t been since before her marriage to her ex-husband, Orin. That would have made it over 20 years.

“Yes, 7:15 p.m. would work perfectly! I don’t think I live too far from you.”

As she gave him her address, she heard the click of a pen and the faint sound of scrawling. He was writing it down.

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”

He was actually going to drive her? Ebenezer Samuel Scrooge, one of London’s most esteemed philanthropists and self-made billionaires, was going to drive her personally?

“Oh, good! We don’t have a ton of parking here, but when I see your message, I can walk just up the street to the –”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted. “London’s winters are frigid! I’ll not have you walking and waiting in the dark. When I’m there, I’ll get out, ring the bell, and walk you personally.”

This all had to be some elaborate dream, she thought. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep during the movie after all and was just one nudge away from waking up and seeing that their phone conversation was nothing but an imagined flight of fancy.

“O-Okay, that sounds wonderful.”

“Excellent. Well, I won’t keep you, dear. I will tell you that I’m very much looking to our date.”

“Me too,” she revealed. “T-Thank you again for calling. I honestly can’t wait.”

“I’m glad to hear that, and I hope you’ll trust me when I say that it’s my pleasure.”

She laughed, an easy smile crossing her face. She leaned against the kitchen wall and sank down until she was seated on the floor, knees nestled just beneath her chin. “Well, I really hope you have a safe trip home. Goodnight, Ebenezer.”

“I certainly will,” he said. Then, after another beat, he said, “Goodnight, angel. I’ll see you Saturday.”

Constance ended the call. After checking to make sure she’d hung up the phone, even dialing another digit to hear a dial tone click in, she shot up and danced in circles. The woman was just about to run to the living room to alert her friends only to see that they were all waiting in a gaggle on the other side of the threshold.

“So?” Addie asked, already beaming.

“8 o’clock on Saturday,” she revealed.

Bess was the first to cheer and pull her friend into a tight embrace. “I knew it! I knew he would eventually do it!”

“Where’s he takin’ ya?” Gal asked. Upon hearing the answer, her eyes nearly popped out of her skull. “Estella’s!? Blimey, he mighty does like ye if he's takin' ye to a fancy galley like that!”

“You think?” Connie asked, then giggled again as Addie hugged her tight.

“The real test will be the night of,” Eddie said, waggling her glass mid-air. “What he does during the date…and after.”

“I-It’s just a first date, nothing serious,” the redhead said.

Bess and Gal exchanged unconvinced looks. Addie hummed idly. Eddie all but snorted.

“Just don’t forget a change of clothes,” Eddie teased. “Or…do. He may like that more.”

Connie yelped and Bess only rolled her eyes at the older woman’s teasing. Meanwhile, Addie looked slightly lost in thought, eyes glazing at she rubbed her chin and stared with oddly serious intent at the floor.

“Addie?” the raven-haired woman asked. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” she said, “I was … just thinking. Um, you said his name is Mr. Scrooge, right?”

Constance nodded.

“Ebenezer, or Ebenezar?”

“Um…Ebenezer?” Constance answered, her brow furrowing. “With an ‘er’ at the end.”

Without another word, Addie suddenly trotted back to the living room. The other woman trotted after to find her crouching on her knees, arm rattling around a small magazine rack they had under their end table. It was a common resting place for junk mail, catalogs, and other unnecessary mail items that didn’t have a purpose or deadline attached to them.

“Almoooost ...a-ha!”

Addie pulled a semi-smushed, rolled up finance section that had gotten mixed up in their morning newspaper delivery on accident. She flipped through it quickly before finding the page she desired. Then, splaying the pages open with her thumb, she held out the publication for the other ladies to view.

Right there, in the paper’s centerfold, was a featured article title: Scrooge Brothers Diversify Financial Portfolio with Expanding Philanthropic Efforts! Expert panelists weigh in…

There, beneath the headline, was an image of both men, side by side, engaged in some kind of presentation before a crowded room of onlookers.

One of the men was the man Constance knew from the coffee shop. Ebenezer Samuel Scrooge, the man who never ordered the same thing twice, complimented her skills, and remembered her birthday even when all her other coworkers had forgotten.

The other man beside him had the exact same face. Longer hair and a slightly sturdier frame, but otherwise, the resemblance between them was eerie.

Bess poked her head over Connie’s shoulder for a better look. Upon seeing the brothers featured, she grabbed the article and went bug-eyed. “No way.”

“Way. He’s a twin,” Addie said, “An identical twin!”

That had gone well.

Or, he thought it had … hadn’t it?

He allowed himself the pleasure of letting out a little laugh of relief. Bloody hell, he’d been so nervous about calling her. When he’s first seen the note she’d left him, he’d thought he’s been dreaming. Or, perhaps she was pranking him. Regardless, he’d tucked the note in the breast pocket of his coat for safe-keeping. Even the small scrap of paper carried the aroma of lilies and fresh pears, a perfume he’d come to associate with her. It paired quite nicely with the sight of her brightly greeting customers as they came in from the cold. After shuffling down the cold and sometimes hollow alleyways of London, the mere sight of her tanned visage and coppery hair was like glimpsing the summer sun.

Then, when he’d worked up the nerve to call (after the help of some liquid courage and from within the safety of an empty office) the sound of her voice had lured him into a sanctuary of further boldness. Each word from her lips was as clear as a bell, her articulation precise and her tone welcoming. Eager, perhaps. He certainly hoped so.

Ebenezer polished off the glass’ last finger of whiskey before pulling up a new tab on his laptop. After loading the website of a local florist he knew from their work at other charity events, he began to browse through the different flower varieties and arrangement options.

What flowers should he bring? Tulips? Too juvenile. Roses? Certainly beautiful, but still not quite right. Orchids? No, lilies! And sunflowers. An unconventional combination, he supposed, but it seemed so perfect for her. The lilies for poise and elegance, and the sunflowers for the way she lit up even the darkest days in the darkest city with just one smile.

As he clicked through different options, he saw the phone he’d temporarily set aside vibrate gently upon his cherrywood desk.

He was greeted by a text from his younger twin brother.

>>Ebenezar: I can see the office light on from my flat. What the hell are you still doing there? <<Ebenezer: I’ll be leaving shortly. I’m just grabbing a drink. >>Ebenezar: Must be a strong drink – you were pacing around the office with the loopiest grin on that mug of yours. Now, you’re browsing for flowers?

Ebenezer went to the window and yanked the blinds shut. Blast, he’d forgotten his brother lived so close to the damn office.

<<Ebenezer: Spying? Are you so bored at home? >>Ebenezar: I’m not calling on Yankee ladies like you. If that’s what you mean.

How the hell had he known? Blast, he must have heard him chatting about the phone conversation with Bob.

<<Ebenezer: Perhaps it would do you well. You’re handsome enough. >>Ebenezar: ‘He was hilarious.’ That’s what they’ll say on the day someone finally knocks you on the head for your smartass comments. <<Ebenezer: Pot, meet kettle. Like I said, I’ll be leaving shortly. Sorry to cut your entertainment short. When you start calling on Yankee ladies, I’ll warm them of your voyeurism. >>Ebenezar: Smartass wanker.

Ebenezer rolled his eyes and pocketed the device, quite content to abandon his post and get some sleep. It was getting colder out, after all, and Constance had expressed hope that he’d head home soon.

In a way, he wanted to honor her wishes, even if she wasn’t technically present to witness it.

The fact that she cared so much made heat flood his cheeks, and he suddenly doubted if he’d even need his winter coat anymore to keep his blood from freezing.

I really hope you have a safe trip home. Goodnight, Ebenezer.

His heart started again. The blush didn’t leave his face, even after he’d closed his laptop and shut off the lights.

For a man who enjoyed a productive and jam-packed workweek, suddenly Saturday night couldn’t come fast enough.

#scroogeverse #scrooge 2022 #scrooge netflix #scrooge x oc #oc constance dogoode

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shadowsxgwynriel · 1 year

Text

Mistaken Identity

Day 1: Meet Cute 🥰 @sjmromanceweek

Gwyn tries to help Nesta breakup with a clingy guy, but Gwyn accidentally dumps the wrong man.

Ship: Gwyn and Azriel 💕

Word Count: 1,822

Read on AO3

“So, let me get this straight,” Gwyn said. “You want me to go and dump some guy for you? One that I haven’t even met or knew you were dating?”

“Pretty much,” Nesta confirmed.

“And why can’t you do it?”

“I tried!” Nesta insisted. “But Dave keeps crying and hyperventilating every time I mention the word breakup. One time, he even got on the ground and begged me not to leave him. In public. Do you know how many people were staring at me like I was a heartless bitch?”

Gwyn winced in sympathy.

“And when I tried to text him that we were over, he just ignored it! I don’t know what else to do. We’ve only been dating for two weeks, so I don’t know why he’s acting like this. I mean, most of the time I forgot he even existed!”

Well that explained why Gwyn had never heard of him until now.

”Maybe he’ll miss the sex?”

“Ha! We haven’t even had sex!”

Gwyn frowned. “Really? What about other things?”

She snorted. “We barely even kissed. It’s like I’m a toy that he wants to look at, but doesn’t want to play with.”

“What happened to your no relationship rule?”

“He put me on the spot. I said yes without thinking. But he’s not . . . he’s just not my type.” Gwyn had a feeling that she was about to say he wasn’t Cassian. She wondered how long Nesta would deny her feelings for him. “I really want to be single again, so will you help me out? Please?”

“Fine,” Gwyn said with a sigh. “I’ll breakup with him for you.”

~~~

Gwyn looked around at all of the cubicles. She normally wouldn’t show up at anyone’s place of work, but she figured that he couldn’t possibly make a scene around his colleagues.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where Dave’s desk is?” Gwyn asked a balding man.

He looked away from his computer with a tired face, reminding Gwyn of a zombie. His eyes squinted as if he wasn’t used to human interactions. “Who?”

“Uh, Dave?” She didn’t know his last name, but surely he had to know who he was, right? There couldn’t be that many people who worked in the building with the name Dave.

“Oh. Him. His desk is right next to the water cooler.” Without another word, he went back to typing on his computer.

Okay then.

She found the water cooler and came to a halt. That’s because the man standing at the desk was absolutely stunning.

He was wearing an all black suit and had his dark hair slicked back, though a few strands were out of place, like maybe he had a habit of running his hand through it. His face was polished and classically beautiful, and he had golden-brown skin with piercing hazel eyes. No man had the right to be that perfect.

What was she doing? She was here to dump him for Nesta, not ogle him.

He was busy looking over a file of some kind, so he hadn’t noticed her yet. Gwyn took a deep breath to steel herself, then she approached him.

Though she almost reached his shoulders, she still had to tilt her head just to look up at him. Gwyn tried not to blush as he gazed down at her. She tried even harder not to wonder if he liked what he saw—coppery-brown hair, big teal eyes, freckles. It shouldn’t matter to her what he thought.

“Hey, so, I’m very sorry to be the one to tell you this, but . . . Nesta doesn’t want to be with you anymore,” Gwyn told him in a kind yet strong voice.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she held up a hand and shushed him. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, like this was the first time anyone had ever silenced him.

“No, no. There’s no need for you to speak, Dave.“ She placed her hand on his muscular arm—and okay, maybe her touch lingered for longer than necessary. “It’s best if you don’t try to contact Nesta anymore. In fact, it’s probably better if you just delete her number.”

His lips twitched and Gwyn figured it was time to leave. She didn’t want to risk him causing a scene.

“I’m sorry that things didn’t work out between the two of you, but I’m sure that you’ll find someone who is perfect for you.” She gave him a sympathetic smile before turning to leave.

That hadn’t been so bad. It was actually pretty easy.

Gwyn stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. The doors were in the process of closing when a hand suddenly stopped them. Her eyes widened when Dave joined her inside the elevator.

It was just the two of them, so admittedly she was a little concerned.

Gwyn cleared her throat. “If you try anything, just know that I have a black belt in karate.” That was a lie, of course, but she didn’t have to know karate to kick him in the balls.

He ignored her and reached out to press the emergency stop button. Her jaw dropped. There was no way he actually just did that. Just how crazy was this Dave guy?

“Are you serious?” Gwyn questioned him. “You and Nesta went out for two weeks! Don’t you think you’re overreacting? I mean, why can’t you just get broken up with like a normal person?”

“I think there’s been some confusion,” he said, leaning against the wall like he wasn’t completely batshit. Also, how dare he have a deep and sexy voice when he was holding her hostage?

“And what confusion would that be?”

“I’m not Dave.”

Gwyn laughed nervously. “What? Of course you are . . .”

“Afraid not.”

“But you were at his desk!”

“I was looking something over.” She recalled that he had been looking at a file when she approached him.

“So then . . .” Gwyn was almost scared to ask. “Who are you?”

The man—not Dave—smirked. “Azriel. And you are?”

“Gwyneth,” she mumbled. “Look, I’m sorry about, you know, mistaking you for someone else.” She bit her bottom lip nervously. “Um, can you start the elevator now?”

He eyed her long enough for her cheeks to heat. She had to fight the urge to squirm under his keen gaze.

Finally, he nodded. “Sure,” he said, restarting the elevator.

She frowned as something occurred to her. “Aren’t you worried you’ll get in trouble?”

Azriel outright laughed. “I don’t think I’ll have anything to worry about.”

Cocky bastard.

But as it turned out, he was right. Nobody said anything to him when the doors opened, despite the long line of people waiting to get on the elevator.

“There’s Dave over there,” Azriel told her, pointing at a man who just entered the building.

Gwyn squinted. Dave wasn’t Nesta’s type at all. She was honestly surprised that he even managed to get a date in the first place. It wasn’t that he was unattractive, but he just looked so mundane.

“Great, guess I can dump him after all.”

She left Azriel standing there and caught up to Dave as he was signing in at the desk.

“Dave?” Gwyn asked. She would double check, just to be sure this time.

“Yes?” he said cautiously. “Do I know you?”

“Not really. I’m a friend of Nesta’s.”

His eyes brightened. “I can’t believe I actually get to meet one of Nesta’s friends.”

“Yeah, just listen,” Gwyn said. Unfortunately for Dave, she had used all of her patience on the accidental breakup with Azriel. “Nesta doesn’t want to see you anymore.”

His face dropped. “Wh-what? But she can’t! We were just starting to become a serious couple!”

Okay, so clearly this guy was delusional. And he was starting to draw attention to them.

“Mr. Winston, if a woman sends her friend to breakup with you, then shouldn’t that tell you something?“ Azriel interjected.

Gwyn jumped. She was too busy dealing with Dave, that she hadn’t even realized he had followed her.

Dave paled, and started to fidget nervously. “S-sir!”

“Sir?” Gwyn whispered in confusion.

But Azriel had heard her. He smiled at her. “Did I perhaps forget to mention that I was the CEO?”

She stared at him in disbelief, mouth agape. “CEO?”

He nodded, amusement clear in his eyes. Well, she was glad that he seemed to find levity in the whole situation, because she was completely embarrassed.

“Why are you still here?” Azriel asked.

Her cheeks heated. “I-“

“Not you, Gwyneth. I meant you, Mr. Winston. Why are you still here when you should be upstairs working?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’ll go right away, sir!” Dave started to rush off.

“Oh, and Mr. Winston?” Azriel called, stopping him. “Don’t contact this Nesta woman again. She’s obviously not interested, so leave her alone. Do you understand?” His tone was full of authority, making her shiver at the sound of it.

Dave turned bright red. “I-I understand. I won’t contact her anymore.”

“Good. You can go now,” Azriel told him, and Dave took off like the floor was on fire.

While he wasn’t looking, Gwyn slowly inched her way to the main door.

“Leaving so soon, Gwyneth?”

She sighed, figuring that maybe he wanted another apology. “Just Gwyn is fine. And once again, I’m really sorry for earlier.”

“I like Gwyneth. It’s a beautiful name,” Azriel said.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Can I walk you to your car?”

“I don’t have a car.”

He frowned. “Then how did you get here?“

“I took the bus.”

Azriel looked at his watch. “I have a meeting in thirty minutes. I’ll have my driver take you home.”

“Thank you, but that’s really not necessary.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that my intentions are purely selfish.”

Gwyn raised an eyebrow. “How’s that?”

“I want to take you out on a date,” he informed her causally. “And in order to do that, I need to make sure that you get home safely.”

Wait a second. “Did you just say you want to take me out on a date?”

“I did.”

“But why?”

Azriel smiled. “What can I say? You had me hooked from the moment you opened your mouth.”

Gwyn couldn’t help but return the smile. “Well . . . I guess maybe it would be nice to get a ride home. If you’re sure it won’t be too much trouble?”

“Of course not. And how about that date?”

This wasn’t how Gwyn pictured her day going, but she certainly wasn’t about to complain. Nor was she going to turn down a date with a very attractive man.

“Does tomorrow work for you?” she asked him.

“Just one sec.” Azriel pulled out his phone and typed something, presumably a text or email. “My schedule just cleared up,” he told her.

“Then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His eyes gleamed with something that made her pulse race. “I look forward to tomorrow, Gwyneth.”

#sjmromanceweek2023 #gwynriel #gwyn berdara #azriel #meet cute

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buckets-and-trees · 2 years

Text

Bucky and the Bench

Title: Bucky and the Bench Fandom: MCU Pairing: eventual Bucky x female!Reader

Word Count: 802 Summary: It’s not enemies to lovers, but it definitely doesn’t start out well. Warnings: Slow burn Additional Notes: Well, here’s my first post here… This will not strictly be a WIP, but it is a series of drabbles with a plan, if you will. Or if you won’t. I still will be drabbling…

“You’re on my bench.”

You look up, so shocked at this stranger’s audacity that you couldn’t hide the look of harsh scrutiny on your face. “I – this is a public park.”

He nods. “And you’re sitting on my bench.”

Your scrutiny turns to a glare. “You can’t have a bench at a public park.”

“Fine, it’s my favorite bench in the park. It has the best view.”

Your face softens slightly. “You’re not wrong.” Two things are working to disarm you. You don’t glare often, but when provoked, whoever receives it usually backs down immediately, and the fact that he hasn’t is intriguing. But he’s probably not because he’s likely never had to back down from anything in his life, the imposing hulk of a man that he is, well over six feet, built frame, and a piercing blue stare. He’s more than the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, and that doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Can I?” he gestures to the right side of the bench.

You weren’t sitting in the middle of the bench, already slightly favoring the left side, so you shrug and scoot to the other end of the bench, moving your things along with you. He sits without another word. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him pull a book out of an inner pocket of his jacket, and he becomes immediately engrossed.

It’s only after another few moments that you realize the look out of the corner of your eye had turned into a full-on study of the man at the other end of the bench, and then you quickly move to rummage in your bag. You weren’t staring at him.

Except you had been, because how could he really have had the audacity to disturb you about, and then insist on sitting on, this bench? There were plenty of good benches here, and he could have sat at any one of them. And then he just sat there, reading To Kill a Mockingbird as if nothing had happened to get his handsome frame in that spot. And this may be his favorite bench (it was yours, too), but that was one of your favorite books, and you couldn’t tell if you were annoyed that he had it in his hands, or if you were curious. It was a classic, to be sure, but had he read it before? What did he think?

You glance up from your bag to look at him again. He was still reading with rapt attention.

Back in your bag, you settle on just pulling a mint out of a small tin, then settle back to reading your own book. For your lunch break today, you’d opted for a fluffy new romance recommendation alongside your sandwich. You aren’t embarrassed to be reading a fluffy, trendy romance book, but you did hope the stranger hadn’t noticed how vibrantly pink the cover is. You move the book to rest in your lap, pressing the pages open across your legs, effectively hiding the cover from any eyes that may judge.

Once you are back into your book, you only have eyes for the pages until your phone’s alarm blares, which is only a moment of interruption to you, but causes the man at the other end of the bench to jerk violently, nearly drop his book, and glare at you angrily when he realizes it is only your phone.

You give him a half-apologetic grimace as you slip your book and your phone into your bag before slipping it over your shoulder. He settles back into the bench, but this time hunching over his book, elbows resting on his knees, clearly attempting to block out all his surroundings, including you.

You stand and walk away. As you begin your journey back to work, you can’t help thinking how awful a meet cute that was, if your life was a romance novel or rom-com film. Maybe it could be worked into an enemies-to-lovers plot, but even that was a stretch.

Those brooding blue eyes though…

You laugh to yourself, exiting the park and truly getting back to normal life.

Normal, standard life, void of meet cutes, but a life you are generally content with, no need to worry about the man with the impossibly blue eyes or his strong jawline.

Because, honestly, what kind of man was so particular about a public park bench anyway?

So strange.

You don’t go back to the park and the bench the next day, but the day after that you do go and reclaim your bench. You’d been to that park and sat at that bench during your lunch many times – not every day, but two or three times a week, and you’d never seen him there before, and you don’t see him there again.

next part

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky is a brooder sometimes #bucky doesn't play nice with strangers okay #he's a grumpy grandpa #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x yn #don't worry i'm not terrified to post my first writing here on tumblr #and also have that writing be totally not a major hook #but the muses said this is how this journey begins #book loving bucky #the brooklyn boys #aspen wrote something #female reader

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translatemunson · 1 year

Text

track three — the ex tapes

warnings: not proofread. this is not a fluff series, so be ready for some angst and angry characters.

author's note: thanks for all the love these past few chapters! i'm thinking of taking some requests on scenes/drabbles you'd like to read about this series, what do you think? send your ideas my way via ask or message me!

series masterlist

Eddie didn’t call you again. He went silent. Yeah, that was definitely a goodbye.

This was one of those days where the connection wasn’t there. The artist you worked with gave you some trouble when trying to find the subject of the song. You’ve talked for hours, he asked his assistant to get you some coffee and cookies from a nearby cafe, but even after all of that, he couldn’t give you enough material to start based on his experience.

You wrote a verse and a chorus you are not proud of, leaving the rest for another session. But you’re not sure if this was going to happen. He felt a bit off, you knew when people didn’t want to open themselves up, for whatever reason.

Perhaps it was your fault. You were so connected to your personal story that everything was distant. You drive back home listening to your classical music tape, letting the harmonies and crescendos get the ideas out of your mind.

You don’t recognize the black car parked a few spots to the left of Steve’s car. You’ve been living in this building long enough to know everyone else’s cars. New neighbors? No, you weren’t aware of people moving in for a while now.

You gather your things and go up the stairs to the third floor. Everything is calm.

“Stevie! Wanna order some pizza?” You unlock the door and meet with a very serious Steve staring at the person on your couch. Black jeans, denim vest and jacket, dark curls. “What’s this? Why did you let him in?”

Both boys look in your direction. You cross your arms in front of your chest, your guitar case on your feet.

“I think you should talk.” He motions to Eddie to stay in his place.

“Steve-”

“Think of your career, ok? I’ll be in my room,” he walks to you and hugs you. “Try not to kill each other. Scream if you need me to kick him out.”

Steve leaves you alone, locking the door to his room — you bet he’s gonna eavesdrop on your conversation, whether you like it or not. You put your things on the table and let a deep sight cut through your silence.

“What are you doing here, Munson? No, what do you really want from me? Wasn’t leaving me behind like we were nothing enough?”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“I know, you said it a few nights ago. But I’m not buying it. How did you find me?”

Eddie looks in the direction of Steve’s room and you feel a little betrayed. You knew Steve would do anything for you, to protect you. And maybe you were too drunk when he arrived after the phone call and you poured your heart out telling him you wished things ended up differently. But you were too hurt, too afraid to let him closer again.

“Sorry, I-”

“You don’t mean it, so shut it. You never returned my calls, or my letters, or even let me know when you were in town so we could have a decent conversation. And now it’s too late.”

“You wanted closure? Do you even know what it means? Because to keep writing our story on people’s songs isn’t closure.”

“Like you’ve never written something about us as well. You can’t change my mind, Munson: I’m not writing with you. Now leave me alone.”

Eddie stands up, but doesn’t go for the door. He takes some bold steps until you’re close.

“You left me in the studio, was it some kind of twisted payback?”

“You broke my fucking heart, Eddie! Making you pay for the studio rent is nothing compared to what you’ve done to me!”

“Well, isn't it funny that you’re working in the same field as me? It’s like you were hoping this would happen.”

“Idiot, I’ve been writing songs and poems for ages! Who gave you the poem that inspired your first hit?” He doesn’t answer, well aware of the day you gave him an envelope with the poem inside. “Why did you use it anyway?”

“Because it was good, Y/N, really good. Can we please put those things behind and talk about our jobs? Because I really need to write this song, and you’re the only person that can understand me.”

You don’t understand me, he said that before you left the trailer in a hurry. It’s been like six years since that night, and you still feel it hunting you. Because you know you were wrong, but you were also young and too eager to get it.

You wanted to move to Chicago, to attend college, to live with Eddie in a small apartment. But you weren’t on the same page. He didn’t see how leaving somewhere else would be good, how he could keep playing with the band. According to him, you had everything you needed in Hawkins.

You had this huge fight. Screaming at each other how things were going to be better, new opportunities and everything else. To him, studying was a waste of time. To you, his band was a waste of time. In the end, you left the trailer after getting tired of all of his bullshit.

When you returned a few days later, he was gone. He moved to Los Angeles, they got a record deal, Wayne explained to you. He gave you his number and new address, and God knows you’ve tried to talk to him, at least to say you were sorry and you wanted to try long distance before ending things up.

He ended things before you could try.

“It has to be you, Y/N. I’ve tried with others, they don’t get it like you do. Please.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I can’t.”

You take a paper from the table and start writing down all the songwriters you’ve worked with and could help him, maybe would be honored to work with him. Because you know you can’t go in a studio with him, write down his feelings and walk away without feeling hurt. The song would play everywhere and it would sink the knife deeper.

You offer the paper. Eddie takes it but doesn’t give it a look, shoving it in his pocket right away.

“Please.”

You start crying, your memories making you go back to that night in the trailer. You’ve seen this film before, he’s gonna leave you again and again.

Eddie brings you to his chest in a warm hug. You inhale his scent: cigarettes, maybe coffee and some fancy cologne. Time was good with him. You hug him back stronger, wishing things were different in the past. He doesn’t let you go until he’s sure you’ve calmed down.

“I’m so sorry that I left you. I really am.” He holds your face gently, sweeping the tears away. “Back then I thought that I always had to choose, and I didn’t want to do it because I really wanted to be with you, but music means everything to me. And then we fought and I had a good reason to run away. But you didn’t deserve it, and I’m so sorry for that.”

“I know, Eddie. But I have my fair share of guilt,” you cover his hands with yours. You wished you did this sooner, found your way to Eddie sooner. “I wanted you to leave everything for me, without thinking about other ways we could do it. And when I did, it was too late.”

He holds your shoulders. “Let’s call it a truce? Just for the sake of our jobs. We write the song, I give you a huge cut from the money and we can follow our own ways.”

“You can’t tell people that Charlie Rogers is your ex, because I really don’t wanna be Eddie Munson’s ex,” you add to the deal.

“Sure.” Your proudness is always showing, but he agrees with you: you’ve built your career by yourself, not by being someone’s ex. “Anything else?”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise, love.”

“I can fit you in my schedule.”

“Great,” he claps his hands, satisfied, “if you wanna work in a specific studio, let my manager know, he can arrange that.”

“Nah, choose your favorite and we’ll be fine.”

“Right, ok,” he smiles and leans in. “So see you soon?”

“On thursday, probably. I’ll have to cancel with Madonna, but that’s fine.”

“Madonna? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it's the third time we’ll work together. I can fit her somewhere else,” you say like it’s nothing. “Clean your schedule for me, rockstar, and meet me here at eight. And make sure to rent the studio for noon. There’s something we need to do before our writing session.”

“‘K, I’ll be here.”

“Ok.”

But none of you move. His big brown eyes don’t leave yours, you can’t break the contact. Reality is hitting you in the middle of your face. The thing you asked for years is happening. Eddie is here.

A door is opened and you hear footsteps.

“Erm, I thought you killed each other,” Steve cleans his throat.

You break the contact first. Eddie puts a cheeky smile on his face and walks to the door.

“See you on thursday. Bye, Steve.”

“See ya, Munson,” Steve does the honors of letting Eddie out. As soon as he closes the door, his eyes find you. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” You take your stuff and walk to your room. “Please, leave me alone tonight.”

“I’ll make dinner for you.”

“No need.”

“Y/N,” he’s already worried about you.

“I need a moment alone, Harrington. Talk to you tomorrow.”

taglist: @@lokiofasgard616 @munsonology

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #rockstar!eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #songwriter!reader x eddie munson #songwriter!reader x rockstar!eddie munson

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disappointingyet · 9 months

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The Decline Of Western Civilisation

Director Penelope Spheeris Stars Claude Bessy, Exene, Darby Crash, Ron Reyes, Nicole USA 1981 Language English 1hr 40mins Colour/Black & white

The classic LA punk doc

I feel it’s rare to have a (theatrically released) documentary that is much less well-known than its sequel. But The Decline Of Western Civilisation II: The Metal Years had famous people in it, some much-quoted funny moments and set up director Penelope Spheeris up to make the massive hit comedy Wayne’s World. The first Decline, on the other hand, is bleaker, occasionally funny in a very dark way and put Spheeris on the way to directing the grim (and fairly obscure) squatland drama Suburbia. And at the time none of these people were celebrities and even subsequently, the only person here who has nudged fame is Pat Smear, the guitar player from Germs, who was a touring member of Nirvana in their last days and is currently a Foo Fighter.

But make no mistake, The Decline Of Western Civilisation is an extraordinary music documentary. Filmed in late 1979 and early 1980, it drops us right into the middle of punk in Los Angeles. There’s no voiceover – although we do occasionally hear Spheeris asking questions – so the description and analysis comes from bands, fans, managers, club owners, bouncers and the staff of Slash magazine.*

In what I think was an accident of timing, Spheeris caught a pivotal moment. The early punk scene in Los Angeles had been open-minded and stylistically diverse. Here we see the codifying of hardcore punk and the amped-up aggression of bands like Black Flag, Circle Jerks and Fear and their audiences. Fear, in particular, incite their gobbing crowd with a steady stream of homophobic derision.

The contrast is with Catholic Discipline, led by Slash editor Claude Bessy (aka Kickboy Face), whose guitar player Phranc was a trilby-sporting lesbian. (And Catholic Discipline are shown playing at venue we learn had banned the hardcore bands by this point.) Their crowd looks like a relatively sophisticated bunch who have put a lot of time into their outfits. But they also, it should be said, seem a lot less into the occasion than the kids at the Circle Jerks show.

There wasn’t (it seems) even the language to describe what was going on those crowds. Everyone refers to pogoing, but these kids aren’t jumping up and down on the spot, they are smashing into each other and creating a vortex of bodies, and clambering up onto stage and getting shoved off. It seems the terms slam dancing (moshing was an even later coinage as I remember it) and stage diving were not yet in common use.

So how does Spheeris put us in this world? We get a lot of footage of the bands on stage, which might be hard work for some viewers. But because Spheeris and her camera crew are interested in the scene as a whole, there’s always something anthropologically interesting to note**, even if you can’t tell where one Fear song begins and the next one ends.

And then there are the interviews. This the opposite of the uniform talking-head approach, although the great access Spheeris had helps. Interviews with kids from the scene are face-on in a stark room with a bare light bulb hanging down, shot in black & white and tinted blue. Venue owner Brendan Mullen is filmed on a cliff high above Los Angeles. Nicole, the long-suffering manager of Germs, talks in close-up with her clothes merging into the black background.

Germs lead singer Darby Crash, by contrast, is filmed cooking eggs and bacon in a grubby kitchen – this is probably the film’s most notorious segment, as his mate blithely recounts stumbling across the body of a workman at her parents’ house. Spheeris [unseen]: “Didn’t you feel bad that the guy was dead?” Michelle: “No, not at all. Because I hate painters." During the X interview, singer John Doe is tattooing LA music scene character Top Jimmy's arm while the band’s other singer, Exene, talks through her collection of fundamentalist Christian pamphlets that she’s collected on the streets of LA.

All of which is to say that faced with my key question about movie docs – is this actually a movie? (rather than TV or – these days – YouTube content) – the answer is about as emphatic a ‘yes’ as is possible. This is a visually fascinating bit of film-making, regardless of what’s being said. But the what’s being said is interesting, too. Both the letters from readers to Slash magazine and some of the things the kids filmed under the light bulb say are (to a 2023 viewer) evidence that it wasn’t the internet that created all manner of unpleasantness – it was always there, and (in the case of the readers’ letters), people used to bother to actually write and post trolling nonsense (I was going to say and pay for postage, but I’m guessing a lot of these were kids using stamps from their mom’s desk.)

This is one of those movies I’ve known about for decades, but only finally now got a chance to see. And yet somehow it went way past my expectations – this is one of the great rock documentaries.

(In the UK, all three TDOWC movies are currently available to stream for free – legally! – on Plex.)

*OK, so maybe worth saying I know a certain amount about this stuff – for instance, I’ve read We’ve Got The Neutron Bomb: The Untold Story Of LA Punk so I had a lot of context that the more casual viewer wouldn’t. But I still think it would be an absorbing watch if you don’t know anything (you don’t have to have read a book to realise that Darby Crash was very bad news).

**For instance, at this point at least, both in terms of the bands and their audience, this was less all-white than you might imagine/despite the bile spewed by a couple of the interviewees. (Not as far as I know shown in this film, but definitely already a key figure was Spot, RIP.) This is part of my 'Every girl should be given an electric guitar on her 16th birthday' series of reviews

#punk movies #the decline of western civilisation

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yodeleyewho · 5 months

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(Small rant about my feelings on “Too Much, Too Late” and the unresolved problems of Sonny and Rico’s relationship)

Been thinking about season five’s “Too Much, Too Late” and how the tension between Sonny and Rico just kinda, idk, falls flat? Goes unresolved? Half of the episode is just Sonny being sulky and Rico being snappy with him, especially when Rico reveals that he wants to get married to Valerie. Sonny isn’t happy about it, tells him to take it slow, and he’s definitely speaking from experience with everything that happened with Caitlin, but I also think that he’s just scared of losing Rico and this leads back to Prodigal Son in a way (it all leads back to Prodigal Son 👆🏾❗️) .

Prodigal Son is the episode where Sonny realizes that he really does love his partner and doesn’t want to lose him. That’s shown through the music, DJ’s acting, and the way the camera frames them. Now, I don’t know if I’m just reaching here, but I did notice that the way they’re placed is almost always in a way for Sonny to be looking at Rico.

First time is when the team is waiting for these dealers at the pond (i actually can’t remember if it was a pond) then it cuts to Sonny and Rico’s position, Sonny is placed behind Rico, but the camera stays on him with Rico almost out of frame. Sonny is able to look at Rico without Rico noticing that he’s looking at him. The second time this happens is when they’re talking to Borges in the empty club and Sonny gets up and walks to a mirror, and in it’s reflection he spots Tubbs and he smiles at him (which was the sweetest thing ever 😭). Now, there was a fake out moment in the scene where Tubbs and Valerie reunite and dance together. As they’re on the dance floor, Valerie looks back to where they were sitting, and the camera cuts back to their table, but the way Sonny and the other guy are seated kinda makes it look like Sonny is staring at them while they dance, but after rewatching it over again that doesn’t seem to be the case. The third time is when Sonny and Rico are driving at night and Sonny looks over at Rico, but Rico doesn’t look at him, and to me, this scene feels like a callback to “Heart of Darkness” where they’re driving somewhere and Rico just looks at Sonny, but Sonny doesn’t look back at him. The final time is the airport scene. Rico is in a rush and doesn’t notice Sonny is here, but as he passes him Sonny just takes a second to look at him before he sneaks up behind him and gives him the classic “fancy meeting you here”.

But like I said earlier, might be reaching, it’s just something I noticed. Even in the next episode “Whatever Works”, Sonny has a conversation with Rico abt how upset he’d be if he ever had to go back to NYC, so this is definitely the season where he makes it clear that he doesn’t want Rico leaving him.. ever. BUT BACK TO TMTL!! During their convo about Valerie, Rico tells Sonny that he doesn’t trust his feelings anymore, brings up Caitlin (which was a horrible thing to do), Sonny gives him the most heartbroken expression ever (props to DJ for acting yet again), and for the rest of the episode they just act so cut off from each other. They get close to opening up again in the bar scene where Rico says that the case is getting between him and Val, and Sonny literally says the least offensive thing ever, he just says that yeah that can happen, but Rico gets snippy with him again and says “you got somethin’ to say?”, Sonny pauses for a moment and tells Rico that he doesn’t trust Valerie, but Rico doesn’t listen and gets huffy and tries to leave the bar. Now. All of that tension. All of that build up. We expect it to go somewhere, right? Be resolved? NO! NEVER GETS FIXED! THEY NEVER TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN! And it’s sooo frustrating, because sure, they don’t have to fix it this episode, maybe they can talk about it another time, but nope. Never happened. For me, the shows ends on an unsatisfying note regarding everything that went down between them. So much could’ve been done, but it felt so.. interrupted? It was going somewhere, but it took a wrong turn and never ended up at it’s true destination.

#and just like Sonny and Rico’s relationship this rant is.. not fixed up.#miami vice #sonny crockett #don johnson #rico tubbs #philip michael thomas #80s #80s television #80s tv #80s icons

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cassatine · 2 years

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I love love love hearing you talk about the bastard thing and how it was legit never about legitimacy but the throne. So many people seem to debate genetics and how they COULD be laenor’s kids etc but I feel like it totally misses the point

Thank you it is my lil’ hill to camp out and die on… it's like, sure, some things are up to interpretation, but not that one. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: it could hardly be more obvious that the kids’ legitimacy was never the problem. It’s in the fucking text ffs… Otto & Hobert were already having their lil discussions about putting Aegon on the throne when he was two and Rhaenyra was still years away from being married or having kids… Otto straight up tells Alicent that Rhaenyra could have been Jaehaerys reborn and it wouldn’t have changed shit because she was born without a dick also before she even got married or had kids. How those scenes went over so many heads I don’t fucking know, but it’s kind of amazing how people can look at something that’s clearly meant to be an indictment of the patriarchy and still go… ok ok but listen… what if… what if the text is really meant to be read with the fake patriarchal medievish mores in mind?? What if the issue really is the kids' legitimacy?

The brain rot is so bad, we could have a Greek chorus looking at the camera, telling the audience “it has nothing to do with legitimacy and everything to do with patriarchal structures & the Hightower patriarchs thirsting for power” and people would STILL be like, but but but how can the chorus be reliable?? Don’t the fake patriarchal medievish mores say sex out of wedlock is dishonorable whore behavior and bastards are by nature wanton and treacherous??

The fake patriarchal medievish mores also say you shouldn’t break guests rights, or kinslay, and that protecting people who did such things is bad, all things the people who point the finger at a woman having consensual sex out of wedlock with one (1) dude that isn’t her gay husband don’t seem to care overly much about for some reason -- don't even start me on how fucking yikes it is that people are like "well clearly Rhaenyra & Laenor didn't try hard enough they didn't do their quote unquote duty :((".

And lmao people are bringing genetics into it?? Missing the point indeed. I love to push the watsonian approach to its limits as much as anyone else but ffs, HotD isn’t. like. the real world. What we see is what the people telling the story chose to show and if they’d wanted us to think for even a hot second that maybe the kids were Laenor’s, the hints would have been on the fucking screen: the Velaryons would have been white, Rhaenys would have had her dark Baratheon hair like in F&B, Harwin wouldn’t have had that scene holding baby Joffrey, Rhaenyra wouldn’t have had that scene telling Jace “you’re Targs and that’s what matters” -- nor would she have told Daemon “yeah Laenor and I tried and it didn’t work,” etc etc.

And in any case…: if the kids had been Laenor's, then Otto & Hobert & co would just have pulled a different card, such as: well Laenor is super gay so how do we know the kids aren’t quote unquote deviants as well, can’t have a gay King in the future can we? Or: well Laenor is super gay so how do we know the kids actually aren’t some other Velaryon’s kids, Rhaenyra was spotted talking to Vaemond for more than two minutes twice in the last ten years, isn’t it sus? Etc etc -- and of course, they could always have defaulted to the classic “well Rhaenyra doesn’t have a dick so she clearly isn’t qualified to rule.”

#im like. slamming my head against walls in sheer frustration #house of the dragon #meta #ask #anon

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popculturebuffet · 2 years

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Monthly Muppets/Pirate Month: Muppet Treasure Island Review!: The Darkest and Most Tim Curry Muppet Film of All (Comission for Emma Fici)

Hello all ye swabs and welcome back to pirate month, my look at a bunch of pirate media as we sail out of summer, as well as Monthly Muppets, my monthly look at muppet media as comissoined by my good friend emma.

Today’s film is one I did see as a kid but hardly remember as did my co-pilot for this one @jess-the-vampire. I dont’ remember hating it but I do remember drifting off, findng parts boring and only remembered cabin fever and part of Kermit and Piggy’s duet. Little Me was just ambvalient to it unlike say Problem Child , Heavyweights or Little Rascals which conversely i’d watch on loop at my grandmas. Classics one and all that i’m bound to cover someday (Or sooner if you want to comission it, wink wink)

So it took me until the tender, innocent age of 30 to not only watch it again.. but to truly enjoy it. Dosen’t mean kids can’t, i’ve heard plenty of people loved and grew up with this one, i’ts just the weird ass path i’ve taken in life I suppose. On rewatch.. this film was excellent if not at all what I expected. I mean it is in ways; i’ts an adaptation of a classic british novel , done because Christmas Carol was a huge hit so the Muppet Crew wanted to keep going down this road, and as far as I could tell production went well. While Tim Curry wasn’t the first choice in mind, they also had the equally great casting of David Bowie and the baffling casting of Mic Jagger (who is a great musician but just dosen’t have Curry or Bowie’s Charisma), in mind, otherwise productoin went well and while the film didn’t do great in the box office, thus leading to muppets from space, the first film covered for this feature, it as should be clear did great on home video.

What caught me off guard.. was the tone. See I forgot just how seriously Christmas Carol took things, essentially being an almost straight adaptation of the book but iwth some muppety jokes and the various muppet cast members dotted about and playing apporirate parts. Still fully muppety but far more serious than the usual madcap antics. Treasure Island takes that and runs with it, but while Christmas Carol’s darkness comes from the fairly dark subject matter, a bitter greedy old man, the things that he lost becoming this way and the horrible things to come for him and those around him should he stay th ecourse, this is an adventure story and being an adventure story written before censors stepped in for children.. it’s one shockingly paved in blood and something that the movie mostly stays very close to. The OPENING SCENE is a dead serious and wicked cool musical number, and as has been standard since Labyrinth i’ll get to those later on their own, about pirates, dead men telling no tales.. and that ends in Captain Flint MURDERING most of his crew to keep the treasure secret. We don’t see it but most muppet productions don’t open with cold blooded murder for pure greed, nor are most bits of mupet violence played dead seriously like this

And this isn’t a tonal clash: While there are PLENTY of jokes, and all time great ones for the muppets as a whole the story and it’s stakes are mostly played dead serious. And you’d THINK this wouldn’t work.. while the muppets can have truly good truly deep stories, see the 2011 movie, usualy their more in the line with personal drama when drama does crop up. The muppets usually don’t do big sweeping adventure stories. Yet.. it works pefectly. The jokes are spaced out well from the dramatic scenes and the action set pieces, so the transition isn’t jarring. For instance at one point Tim Curry’s Long John Silver valiantly holds back his traiterous crew to save Jim, our human lead more on him in a sec, we get some space to progress the plot more with Jim, and then we cut back to an all time great gag as his crew literally hand him a black spot (a black spot, aka the black death, was seen as a polite vacation certain doom. Full credit to jess for just casually knowing that) The film can be as madcap as a muppet film needs to be, with it’s all time best bit being the roll call

youtube

I saw this on tumblr years ago and it’s lived in my head with ME paying it rent for the pleasure of staying ever since. One of the best muppet bits period and one of my personal faviorites. I mean you have this, yet it dosen’t detract from the story.

Getting into the story so we have context, and because it makes it easier to get into some bits, the story follows Jim Hawkins, a young lad played by the equally young at the time Kevin Bishop. He is incredibly good in the part despite his age, being a bit shouty (as child actors tend to be) but still earnest, heartwarming and when needed steadfast in his convictions. And i’m proud to say Bishop had a career after this, mostly tv but he IS the current voice of 2D of the Gorillaz, and that will never not be the highlight of anyones resume.

Jim is an orphan, a slight change from the original where his parents both lived and his dad only died shortly into the story, but one that makes sense: it streamlines things and makes his close friendship with Gonzo and Rizzo, who are apparnetly also children? It’s Vauge, and both were SUPPOSED to be in jim’s part entirely, but the execs figured the two just didn’t fit for the emotoinal core of the story.. and were right. The two are amazing characters but they just don’t WORK as a wide eyed 12 year old boy. Granted that leave sme scratching my head why they didn’t just use robin, the actual child in the muppet troupe, but Bishop was great, so it worked out.

Jim toils at an inn for a selfish boss who can always tell what anyone says “how does she do that”, listenting to the stories of Billy Bones played by Billy Connoly, who has pride at being the only person killed in a muppets film to die on screen. The landlady, Mrs. Bluvridge is played of course by british icon Jennefer Saunders. Always a delight to have her pop up in something. While most of the pub thinks bones is full of rum soaked barnacles, turns out he was righ tin the tale he tales, of being one of the only ones to know where Captain Flint’s treasure is via a map he stole. Naturally he gets beset by other pirates, and Jim and co barely escape thanks to Jennifer Saunders FIGHTING THE PIRATES OFF. God I love this job.

They convince the son of a lord, played by Fozzy, and his assitants played by bunsen and beaker who naturally had a gunpowder mishap shortly before meeting our heroes, to fund a trip. Unfortunately the rich dimwit son trusts the tiny man in his finger to hire the crew

So while the captain is the utterly stalwart, kind and resonable Smolett, played by Kermit the frog here, and his first mate the stick in the mud who wants to commit attrocities in Smolett’s name only for Kermit to say

Or somethign like that, the rest of the boat is a wretched hive of scum and villiany, and to no ones shock are both the ones behind the attack on bones and the former crew of the traitorious captain, all lead by the MVP for the film, the man with the sexiest non-keith david voice in the world, the sexiest man to ever put on panty hose, and that’s a long list, and one of the coolest guys to ever live, Tim Curry, playing Captain John Silver.

Curry is the best part of the film, and yes i’m aware it’s a film filled with the muppets at the top of their game. He’s the rare actor who upstages the fucking muppets, and he does so with gusto, playing the roll of Long John Silver to the hilt, and doing so better than I’ll wager anyone ever has. I could be wrong as i’ve barely seen any adaptations of treasure island, but I doubt I am.

He plays Silver as smooth, charming, able to easily bond with young Jim and quickly taking the kid on as a surrogate son, genuine in his love for the boy and care for him. That said he’s also cunning, ruthless and when he goes full ham he goes FULL HAM, with a wonderful song we’ll get to later to show that off. He’s at the same time threatning and charming as all hell because i’ts tim curry, it’s what he was born for. He’s clever, ruthless, and cool, yet also can be funny as seen with the black spot scene and his musical number, without ever breaking character. He plays off the muppets without missing a beat and the film would not be as good without him as it’s core. And that’s INCREDIBLY rare to say for a muppet movie, but it’s the truth; Tim Curry takes the film seriously when he needs to and has fun the whole time, and this is to this day one of his faviorite rolls and makes me even sadder he’s retired. He’s a swashbuckling badass bar none and the gold standard for pirates for me now on... well okay much like the gold standard for sexy voices it’s a tie but in fairness.. his competttion is VERY steep

So yeah Curry rocks as silver and rolls easily, with him and Kermit playing move for move. Kermit is also amazing in this, being a tough but fair captain, only taking jim’s map when it’s clear the danger of someone stealing it is too great and almost, ALMOST beating silver: after Jim overhears he’s behind the mutiny, Kermit plans to MOTHERFUCKING MAROON THEM FOR A YEAR. It only dose’nt work because silver, being tim curry, is one step ahead and takes jim.

And Silvers relationship with Jim is another key part of the film, as the two geninely bond and the only thing you can trust about silver.. is that he cares for the boy. His attempt to make jim join them dosen’t seem born out of ego or neceisity, he could simply just toruture the boy into it or have his crewmates back on the ship bring someone as a hostage.. but he dosen’t. He wants Jim to join him because he wants his son back, gladly defends the boy and kills poor dead tom at gunpoint when that fails, and the final confrintation between the two is truly heartbreaking. We’ll get to that. Curry and Bishop play off each other wonderfully.

For now though, our heroes thankfully sent a landing party of Steed, Gonzo and Rizo. Unforutnatley they run into the weakest part of this some wild pigs

Not you pal, but it IS nice to see you again.

No it’s another stock “savage natives’ sterotype , who have made piggy, aka Benjamina, a CHOICE for a name instead of just calling her benni since she’s adapted from a male character. I am so fucking tired of running into this crap in my reviews. Like i’ts not just general racisim. I’ve seen plenty of that too. but this kind of stupid shit was in everything and i’m glad i’ts gone because this was irritating and Piggy really adds nothing to the film. She has a romance plot with Kermit.. and that’s about it. Their number as they hang off a cliff together is also a crime for the ears.

So with that we cue the music for a second. And the music here is mostly really good.. but what isn’t grinds the movie to a halt. So let’s talk about them

The opening number, Shiver Me Timbers, is an omnious, forboding and perfectly mood setting piece, and easily the films second best number, with only one we’ll get to topping it. It woudlnt’ be out of place in any work with pirates and should be mandatory for pirate works but alas, not the world we live in.

Something Better is a VERY boring, very typical “I WANT A BETTER LIFE BY GOSH BY GOLLY” number. It’s nowhere near the best in it’s genre and just wasted 2 minutes of my life instead of really adding anything. Could’ve been cut without any real issue.

Sailing for Adventure on the other hand captures the spirit of adventure the other song was going for MUCH better as the crew of the hispanola sings their hearts out about the voyage and it is awesome. Flawless, no notes.

Cabin Fever is the most fun song and a wacky number where all the muppets aboard not part of the plot bar fozzy and the ambigoiusly gay duo have a party have a ball. A true bit of fun.

Professional Pirate is my faviorite. It’s also tim Curry’s main song and as should be clear anytime tim curry sings it’s fucking trancendant. Though we already knew that LONG before this movie

youtube

It should be also mandatory tim Curry sings this in every work he’ sin, but sadly not the world we live in once more.

Love Led Us Here Blows. It’s a power ballad between kermit and piggy, and we’ve not only got better love ballads from both, but this one goes on for an enternity. The only entertainmetns is the weird cuts to the pirates findign the gold and partying, the best being the shot I used as the main one for the review: Tim Curry grinning ear to ear while making it rain. As bad as that song is, it gave us that and i’ll give it that.

The final song is Love Power by Son of Bob Marley. It’s a generic Reggae Song and is only MARGINALLY better than Love Led Us Here. It dosen’t fit the film at all, feels horribly out of place and feels like the most “Stuido Mandate” thing i’ve seen since the Iluminati section of Multiverse of Madness

The climax to the film before that though is great as we get a full on action scene that works with the muppets.. and Sam, who was sent away on a dinghy but I forgot, who is THE ONLY verison of mr. arrow to surivive suprisingly enough, boogtey boogetys the pirates into fear and allows our heros to save the day. we also get kermit swordfighting tim curry and doing backflips

It’s the scene after that’s the real climax, as Silver attempts to sneak away with a few treasure chests.. only for Jim to confront him. It’s utterly heartbreaking, with Jim wondering why Silver did all this, and Silver admitting he can’t turn back, it’s too late for him.. but that his love for the boy, for his son.. was never in question. Both are clearly heartbroken.. but both have taken a path the other can’t follow; Jim has found a family who values his honesty and inegrity and Silver can’t be a part of it. The best he could do is stay and be executed.. so go he must as the two tensely stand off, Jim with a whistle, Silver with a pistol.. and Silver backs down, unable to hurt his son. Turly effecting stuff, especailly Kermit who was there.. and who says Jim did the right thing. Our heroes take off for wherever adventure takes them, Silver ends up with his boat sinking (an original additon though him somehow escaing is part of the story. Weird), and we’re out

As you can probably tell this film is awesome it’s only problems being love lift us up and the piggy subplot that feels tacked on just to get her into the movie. Seriously cutting that could help the film’s pacing amazingly and get rid of some good old 90′s racisim. Everyone wins. But otherwise.. this film is a masterwork, it’s rightfully loved and I recommend checking it out. As for where it ranks with the muppet films i’ve covered so far, well thanks to letterboxed instead of typing you, I can just SHOW ya

It sits at a comfy #3 as while having a weaker plot, I felt most wanted was slightly stronger, though both are pretty close in quality.

Next Month: It’s time to hit the big apple as the muppets take manhattan! Will I like it better this time than I did first seeing it years ago?

But find out next month and thanks for reading.

#the muppets #muppet treasure island #tim curry #jennifer saunders #pirates #pirate month #treasure island #kermit the frog #miss piggy #fozzy bear #gonzo the great #rizzo the rat #jim hawkins

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thedaveandkimmershow · 1 year

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I won't lie. I have pretty bad memories of Thanksgiving shopping at a QFC in U Village a long time ago.

The parking was impossible.

The store was uncomfortably packed.

The lines were long and slooooooooooooooooow.

So any year we head out shopping on Thanksgiving Eve or Thanksgiving Day, I go with a little doubt on board.

Okay. A lot of doubt.

Fortunately for us last night, we hit Trader Joe's in Lynnwood after the insanity... still with an hour or so left before the store shut its doors with no intention of opening them again until Friday morning.

After that, since Kimmer 'n I both went back to back from work directly to our grocery quest, we slipped into Dick's Drive-In for a pair of Deluxes to savor. And then across the adjoining parking lot to WinCo for a lot of bulk spices and baking odds 'n ends.

Now, aside from our grocery quest, one of the things we experienced last night was finding out our turkey was pretty well still frozen. So into the bathtub under a trickle of running water it went until emerging this morning fully thawed.

Moving into our day, first up was the one thing we forgot to buy during last night's grocery quest: cream cheese.

I know that shouldn't be a big deal. Only, it's a crucial ingredient in a frosting Kimmer's conjuring for the baked goodies.

And they’ve gotta have the frosting.

So I'm on the road, into the heavy fog clinging to Ballard, driving straight to Trader Joe's which I know is closed today.

I just didn't happen to remember that.

Whoops.

Turning around, I head back the way I came, spotting my first Donna's tree lot of the season before arriving at Whole Foods for the cream cheese.

Finally, when I’m back at our place, it’s time to set the Macy's Day Parade to parading in our living room whilst Kimmer's Symphony of Cooking gets underway in the kitchen.

Later, the parade gives way to Addams Family Values, one of our favorite Thanksgiving movies, especially because of that summer camp massacre performance at the end.

Classic.

Also, I don't remember how often Thanksgiving works out this way, but I don’t wanna forget the morning sunshine streaming through our windows. It. Was. Magnificent. Good grief, the sunshine gracing our day is one heck of a gift.

I also bring this up because I was talking to Linzy earlier who's a little peeved about the fact that her birthday seems to be the only day this week that got sincerely CRAPPY weather.

☹️😭😭

After Addams Family Values, of course, it’s Pieces of April. What can I say? We enjoy our Thanksgiving movies with a healthy dose of dysfunction.

😉

By the time darkness falls, we're picking up Linzy and driving to my parent's place for a Thanksgiving visit. A bit of over the river and through the woods, if you will. We come bearing frosted lemon cupcakes from Linzy's birthday a coupla days ago.

They're quite tasty, so I tell my mom exactly how many dad's putting into their refrigerator on the off-chance he tries to pull a fast one in order to score more lemon deliciousness for himself.

Interestingly, the visit turns into a photo show 'n tell. Turns out my dad's got some fifteen thousand photos he's scanned from our family albums and he's put a bunch of those on his phone. So now he's showing Linzy some photos from when she was a teeny tiny human being a long long time ago.

And yes. She agrees.

She is adorable.

😉

Then Linzy's sharing some of the pictures from her phone with my parents. And then my dad whips out pictures of me as a baby and then a toddler. None of which make me look like an especially intelligent human being. Linzy even manages to mimic my goofed up facial expression in one of the Little Dave In The Park photos.

And yeah.

She nailed it.

After our visit, we're back at our place where the turkey's about done and Kimmer goes about putting the finishing touches on everything whilst Linzy whips out a very lovely jazz standards playlist and we chill in the living room until dinner...

Is served.

Gotta say, there really isn't a recipe Kimmer can't nail. Especially when she's the one making up the recipe with expert creativity. Along with the various wines and the Yonder Hard Cider Linzy brought for the occasion —

Okay.

Quick word about that Yonder Hard Cider :

Cranberry. Dark cherry. And a hint of orange.

Yeah. That's a very tasty cider...

To accompany a dinner that was perfection for our little family. 😊

Now, to be honest, down at this end of the day (and with a combination of tryptophan and carbohydrates on board), we're all starting to lean into a touch of sleepiness. Batteries officially running down.

We do manage, however, a pair of super traditional, non-dysfunctional Thanksgiving shows.

The first was A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, during which Peppermint Patty invites herself and two other friends to a Thanksgiving dinner that's not even happening at Charlie Brown's house. We all agreed, though, how awesome it would be to have a dog that could both actually set up a dinner table and prepare a meal. Even if that meal is pretty much toast and popcorn.

The second show was also a Charlie Brown feature, The Mayflower Voyagers, that always makes me feel a bit uneasy when the story plants itself inside the Mayflower traveling the rolling seas of the North Atlantic amidst crowded, cold, and not completely sanitary conditions.

Oof.

By the time we were through Charlie Brown Thanksgivings, it was obvious the night was over as we were becoming less and less adept at, you know, keeping our eyes open.

It was only 8pm. But there you are.

So I dropped Linzy back at her place, settled back in ours with the pumpkin pie Kimmer just topped off with whip cream.

And you know what?

It was also delicious.

The End

😁

#Thanksgiving #Thanksgiving 2022 #family #dinner #charlie brown #the mayflower #Thanksgiving shopping #turkey #frozen turkey #birthday cupcakes #grandma #grandpa #over the river

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birch88mcclure · 2 years

Text

hermes crocodile kelly 25

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strang-news · 2 years

Text

//Vicky Reviews//

Vicky Reviews Proudly Presents…

In conjunction with Whoever Was At the Office That Day…

✨The 2022 Gummy Games✨

Ten bears enter, only one leaves

I won’t go so far as to say that my review on Albanese gummy bears caused a cultural revolution, but I will go so far as to say it caused an *office* cultural revolution. Never have I gotten such a response to my harsh words and even harsher feelings. Never have I heard so many unsolicited opinions about candy. Never has there been such demand for MORE, DAMN IT, MORE!!!!

Well fine, then. You asked, I’m answering. Join me as I scathingly rank and disparage every gummy candy available at the Target on Bird Road. No sense in nonsense, let’s get right to the meat and potatoes:

In numeric order from "wow, heavenly" to “did you source these from Satan himself?”*

Albanese Gummy Bears

I’ll skip all the hullabaloo, because I think you knew this was coming. Nothing will remove Albanese from the #1 spot unless science finds a way to encapsulate the taste of happiness and the feeling of a tight hug from someone you love. Apologies to all the other candidates, but this position was filled a hot minute ago. Achieving nearly a perfect score, Albanese only lost points because I can’t reasonably eat a full bag of them without getting sick. These bears are perfectly formed, boast fancy flavors, and are, texturally speaking, a gummy paradise. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you! Just eat them already!

2. Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers

Guys, this caught me SO off guard I cannot even begin to tell you. But I will anyway. A childhood classic turned adulthood object of dismissal, Trolli worms have totally got it going on! Of course they’re extra tasty because all that tart citric acid balances out the sweetness of the worm within, but even once all the sour powder has been patiently licked off, we’re left with a very solid gummy, and I’m not talking texture. Great bounce, great flavor, and MY GOD such potential for eatability. Ask Dani Todd about it, she has a lot to say!

3. Favorite Day (Target Store Brand) Gummi Bears

Did you know Target has signature gummi bears? I didn’t, but Matt Cohen certainly did. This doesn't happen often, but I think Matt was right! The gummis are good! These come close to Albanese texture-wise, and one bag will provide you with all the standard (read: iconic, delicious, irresistible) gummi bear flavors you’ve come to expect from our tiny food-colored friends. These were just a little too sweet for me, but third place is still quite an honor! Good job, Target.

4. Black Forest Gummi Bears

“Healthy” Gummies have entered the chat. Flavored with ~some~ natural fruit juices, and ~other~ artificial flavors, Black Forest gummies are not actually any better for you than any other of the brands represented here. Still, though, aside from some mushed bears, a little too much sweetness, and a more ~luxurious~ price tag (I guess we’ve gotta pay a premium for those natural fruit juices? Seems like a scam to me), these are pretty good! I wouldn’t go out of my way to find them, but this is a decent option when you can’t find the gummies you really want…

5. Happy Cola

This candy gets points just for being cute - who doesn’t want to eat tiny bottles of Coca Cola? These little guys were nearly unchewable, but the flavor is all there. If you like cola flavored candy, they’re worth a try! Especially if you don’t mind losing a few teeth to cavities and the laws of physics as you try to unstick the mini gummy bottles from your chompers :)

6. Favorite Day Peach Hearts

This is where things started getting dark. These peach “rings” are actually heart shaped, and that should’ve been my first red flag. A jelly texture is no problem to me, I love jelly. Sugar coating? Unnecessary, but I won’t fault you for wanting everything to be covered in what amounts to edible glitter, I love glitter. You know what I don’t love? When things taste like perfume, and not in a floral way, in a chemical way. These hearts were so loaded with sugar that I at first didn’t even register the gross taste that lay beneath! I was simply too distracted. But let me tell you something, friends, that chemical aftertaste haunts me to this day. It’s like somebody was carrying a vat of peach flavoring to the mixing machine, tripped, and accidentally landed in such a way that every single drop of peach essence entered the gummy mix. They should have scrapped the batch and saved us the cognitive dissonance of loving peach rings and hating peach hearts, but no. I found them, bought them, ate them, and hate them.

7. Haribo Gold Bears

An open question: how is it that these are the most popular and also the least satisfying option in the gummi bear community? It doesn’t make any sense. They’re too hard, they’re too sweet, they hurt my teeth, and they’re really not all that. They’re not gross or disgusting, but they’re just not scratching that itch.They are basic, they are average, and I think you should spend your pennies elsewhere, given the option. Why did I even tank

8. Sour Patch Strawberries

Little known fact: feeding me strawberry flavored anything is the fastest route to gaining my friendship. Why, then, you must be asking, are these strawberries so low on the list? You got me there. The Sour Patch Corporation knows what they’re doing when it comes to texture and flavor, but these things are hecka sweet. Like so sweet that I had one strawberry and had to stop to briefly consider my life choices. These are tasty, but they just don’t deliver on their promise. The flavor is there, but the sweetness kills, the chew is a bit much, and I just couldn’t get past the disappointment of wanting teeny strawberries and being given teeny sugar bombs.

9. Swedish Fish and Happy Cherries

Bingo bango, baby, we’ve got a tie for second to last place! Swedish Fish and Happy Cherries each suck in their own special way. Swedish Fish: not a gummy! What was I thinking! Really, they shouldn’t have been in this competition to begin with. The texture is trash when compared to The Great One (Albanese) and the flavor is…..cherry? I think? Don’t come here looking for something that will satisfy your cravings for gummies. You shall not pass. Happy Cherries: definitely a gummy, but why do they have to dentally curb stomp me? These are cute, but WAY too hard to chew, only so-so on the flavor, and what’s the point of having adorable cartoon cherries in a bag if you can’t get through them because they’re so got dang sweet??? RIP, here lie my Mrs. Pacman hopes and dreams.

10. Haribo Twin Snakes

Kalil was really confident about these. Like reeeeeally confident. He even bought me a bag of them because he wanted me to try them so bad. I hate to break it to him, so can someone else do it? He was so wrong. Twin snakes are so gross. They ticked every box on my “what to avoid” list. We’re talking lame-o consistency, flavor whomst?, a zero on the eatability scale, my teeth were missing by the end of the taste test, I can’t believe someone who calls himself my friend suggested these to me. One snake is sour, one is sweet, but they can both go straight into the garbage. The whole bag can go straight into the garbage. Why is Haribo doing this to humanity?

Dost thou disagree? To be honest, having done the legwork, I can now report that there’s a gummy out there for every weird flavor/mouthfeel preference in existence. You’re allowed to disagree. But also, stop arguing with me! I’m the one writing the article, and my choice is Albanese! It never won’t be!!! You may duke it out amongst yourselves, because I need a good long break from the world of candy before I fall into a diabetic coma. Catch me in the potato chip aisle, we’re on to new, savory horizons.

*All gummy candies were scored in eight categories: consistency, flavor, sweetness, eatability, toothsomeness, cost vs. taste, refinement, and definition. 1 = ew, 5 = ooooh! Check out the scores in the spreadsheet below.

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