#92 truths

[walkswithmyfather]

“It is good to sing about your love in the morning and about your faithfulness at night.” —Psalm 92:2 (ERV)

“At each and every sunrise we will be thanking you for your kindness and your love. As the sun sets and all through the night, we will keep proclaiming, “You are so faithful!” —Psalm 92:2 (TPT)

God is good all the time! Amen! 🙌

[oflgtfol]

fucking Creachure

[epickiya722]

Okay, let me go finish this MomoChako fic.

[financeprincess]

Gaining & Maintaining Power: A Reading List

Power & Manipulation

48 Laws of Power by Robert Green

The Prince by Machiavelli

Games People Play: The Basic Handbook of Transactional Analysis by Eric Berne

The Dictator's Handbook: Why Bad Behavior is Almost Always Good Politics by Bruce Bueno de Mesquita

Power: Why Some People Have It - And Others Don't by Jeffrey Pfeffer

The Wisdom of Psychopaths: What Saints, Spies, and Serial Killers Can Teach Us About Success by Kevin Dutton

Charisma & Social Skills

How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie

Crucial Conversations: Tools for Talking When Stakes Are High by Kerry Patterson

How to Talk to Anyone: 92 Little Tricks for Big Success in Relationships by Leil Lowndes

The Charisma Myth: How Anyone Can Master the Art and Science of Personal Magnetism by Olivia Fox Cabane

Captivate: The Science of Succeeding with People by Vanessa Van Edwards

Never Eat Alone, And the Other Secrets to Success, One Relationship at a Time by Keith Ferrazzi

The Like Switch: An Ex-FBI Agent's Guide to Influencing, Attracting, and Winning People Over by Jack Schafer

Persuasion

The Art of Seduction by Robert Green

Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion by Robert Cialdini

Win Bigly: Persuasion in a World Where Facts Don't Matter by Scott Adams

Pre-Suasion: Channeling Attention for Change by Robert Cialdini

Win Your Case: How to Present, Persuade, and Prevail, Every Place, Every Time by Gerry Spence

Nudge: Improving Decisions About Health, Wealth, and Happiness by Richard Thaler

Methods of Persuasion: How to Use Psychology to Influence Human Behavior by Nick Kolenda

You Can Read Anyone: Never Be Fooled, Lied to, or Taken Advantage of Again by David Lieberman

Influencer: The New Science of Leading Change by Kerry Patterson

Psychology

Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman

The Art of Choosing by Sheena Iyengar

Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us by Daniel Pink

Predictably Irrational: The Hidden Forces That Shape Our Decisions by Dan Ariely

Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman

The Laws of Human Nature by Robert Green

Philosophy and Mindset

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius

Letters from a Stoic by Seneca

Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl

Mastery by Robert Green

The Law of Success by Napoleon Hill

Antifragile: Things That Gain from Disorder by Nassim Taleb

The Daily Stoic by Ryan Holiday

Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life by Hector Garcia

Public Speaking, Rhetoric, and Debating

Rhetoric by Aristotle

How to Argue & Win Every Time by Gerry Spence

The Quick and Easy Way to Effective Speaking by Dale Carnegie

The Art of Public Speaking by Dale Carnegie

Talk Like TED: The 9 Public Speaking Secrets of the World's Top Minds by Carmine Gallo

Verbal Judo: The Gentle Art of Persuasion by George Thompson, PhD

Thank You for Arguing by Jay Heinrichs

p.s. a lot of these can be found on z-library.

xoxo ❤️

[animusrox]

LETTERBOXD

1.   The Batman 2.   Everything Everywhere All at Once 3.   Prey 4.   Triangle of Sadness 5.   Barbarian 6.  The Northman 7.   Bodies Bodies Bodies 8.   The Banshees of Inisherin 9.   Bones and All 10.   Avatar: The Way of Water

Grade A

11.   Turning Red 12.   The Menu 13.   Babylon 14.   Hit the Road 15.   Cow 16.   Watcher 17.   Funny Pages 18.   Mad God 19.   On the Count of Three 20.   Armageddon Time 21.   Terrifier 2 22.   Marcel the Shell with Shoes On 23.   Smile 24.   Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery 25.   Holy Spider 26.   Aftersun 27.   The Fabelmans 28.   Breaking 29.   Decision to Leave 30.   The Whale 31.   All Quiet on the Western Front 32.   Brian and Charles 33.   Piggy 34.   Saint Omer 35.   Thirteen Lives 36.   Men 37.   The Fallout 38.   Resurrection 39.   Causeway 40.  The Black Phone 41.   Official Competition 42.   Nope 43.  Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio 44.   Apollo 10½: A Space Age Childhood 45.   Till 46.   TÁR 47.   Happening 48.   A Love Song 49.   The Outfit 50.   The Innocents 51.   Jackass Forever 52.   BARDO, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths 53.   Montana Story 54.   Three Thousand Years of Longing 55.   You Won’t Be Alone 56.   The Sadness 57.   Halloween Ends 58.   Pearl 59.   X 60.   Vesper

Click "Keep Reading” For My Full List

Grade B

61.   This Place Rules 62.   Fresh 63.   Windfall 64.   Kimi 65.   No Exit 66.   Top Gun: Maverick 67.   “Sr.” 68.   Farha 69.   The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent 70.   Weird: The Al Yankovic Story 71.   Nitram 72.   Speak No Evil 73.   Run Sweetheart Run 74.   She Said 75.   White Noise 76.   Puss in Boots: The Last Wish 77.   V/H/S/99 78.   The Wonder 79.   Women Talking 80.   Hatching 81.   Soft & Quiet 82.   Scream 83.   To Leslie 84.   Hustle 85.   Chip ’n Dale: Rescue Rangers 86.   Dual 87.   God’s Country 88.   Emancipation 89.   Vengeance 90.   Fire of Love 91.   Bullet Train 92.   Incantation 93.   The Valet 94.   Hellraiser 95.   Christmas Bloody Christmas 96.   Significant Other 97.   Cha Cha Real Smooth 98.   Lucy and Desi 99.   Not Okay 100.   A Christmas Story Christmas 101.   Blonde 102.   Deadstream 103.   Sissy

Grade C

104.   The Bad Guys 105.   The Cursed 106.   Empire of Light 107.   A Man Called Otto 108.   Broker 109.   Black Panther: Wakanda Forever 110.   The Princess 111.   Beast 112.   After Yang 113.   RRR 114.   Fall 115.   Jackass 4.5 116.   Beavis and Butt-Head Do the Universe 117.   Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness 118.   Jennifer Lopez: Halftime 119.   Lightyear 120.   The Pale Blue Eye 121.   The Woman King 122.   Violent Night 123.   God’s Creatures 124.   Ambulance 125.   Elvis 126.   You Are Not My Mother 127.   Emily the Criminal 128.   Crimes of the Future 129.   The Apology 130.   The Lost City 131.   Wendell & Wild 132.   Trainwreck: Woodstock ’99 133.   The Found Footage Phenomenon 134.   See How They Run 135.   Spiderhead 136.   Studio 666 137.   Bros 138.   Spin Me Round 139.   We’re All Going to the World’s Fair 140.   Paws of Fury: The Legend of Hank 141.   Honor Society

Grade D

142.   Thor: Love and Thunder 143.   Summering 144.   Strange World 145.   Glorious 146.   The Gray Man 147.   Devotion 148.   Clerks III 149.   The Forgiven 150.   Enola Holmes 2 151.   Father Stu 152.   Jurassic World Dominion 153.   DC League of Super-Pets 154.   She Will 155.   The Bob’s Burgers Movie 156.   Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody 157.   Hellbender 158.   Samaritan 159.   Day Shift 160.   Sonic the Hedgehog 2 161.   Prey for the Devil 162.   Troll 163.   Uncharted 164.  Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile 165.   Dashcam 166.   Firestarter 167.   Do Revenge 168.   Catwoman: Hunted 169.   The Munsters 170.   Amsterdam 171.   Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore

Grade F

172.   Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris 173.   The Bubble 174.   Dead for a Dollar 175.   Jerry & Marge Go Large 176.   Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul. 177.   Infinite Storm 178.   Marry Me 179.   Don’t Worry Darling 180.   Spirited 181.   Disney's Pinocchio 182.   Alice 183.   Black Adam 184.   Orphan: First Kill 185.   The Adam Project 186.   The Invitation 187.   Texas Chainsaw Massacre 188.   Ticket to Paradise 189.   The 355 190.   Umma

Bottom 10

191.   Green Lantern: Beware My Power 192.   Deep Water 193.   Where the Crawdads Sing 194.   Blacklight 195.   Mack & Rita 196.   Memory 197.   Me Time 198.   Death on the Nile 199.   Morbius 200.   Moonfall

[qtubbo]

The real truth of why Tubbo and Charlie went I missed you man haven’t seen you in ages while staying in character, when they saw eachother for the first time, was that they actually got divorced when Tubbo lost the super bowl back in 92 and needed to pursue a different path in life.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

Tell me if this is too much but could we pretty please get prompts 90,91and 92 together??

Lando and the reader are in a secret relationship and she thinks he just doesn’t love her the way she loves him and that he is embarrassed that she’s not a model or whatever.

They have an argument because some other guy asks her out on a date and Lando is like don’t go and she’s upset and says why not? She never gets to go on dates because Lando never takes her 💔

Truth is he loves her a lot and is scared that the media and outsiders will hurt her and hurt their relationship. 😭

send me thoughts/blurb requests (sfw & nsfw) for lando weekend

Lando was on top of the world, that much was clear. He and Carlos had finally managed their 1-2 they had dreamed about when they both drive for McLaren. Even though Carlos wore red on the top step of that podium, they had still done it.

He was grinning from the moment he got out of the car, rushing over to hug Carlos before he even took his helmet off. You could see it in his eyes though, the way they squinted when he smiled. He grinned as he pulled the helmet off his head along with his balaclava, his sweat-damp curls sticking out every which way.

He gave Oscar a hug, and cheered with the rest of his team. It was truly a moment Lando had been dreaming about for a while, and yet you had to watch it all unfold on a television in Lando’s Monaco apartment.

It was always hard when Lando traveled for work. Having to hide your relationship when he was around was hard enough, but seeing him travel to far off countries while he kept you cooped up in his apartment felt like a dagger in your chest.

You longed to be there, to share in these moments with Lando, but he was insistent that you stay behind, that you keep your relationship behind closed doors, away from the media, away from his friends, away from everyone.

You wanted nothing more than to live in that moment with Lando, to share in his happiness with him in person, in front of everyone. But he wanted nothing more than to keep your relationship locked away. You deserved someone who could love you publicly, someone who wouldn’t be ashamed to hold you in public, to share your affections with the world. You deserved better.

It takes Lando another few days to travel back home after Singapore, and he’s only got a few days before he has to travel out to Japan. He’s happy to spend what little time he has free before his next race at home in Monaco though, knowing you’ll be there to greet him with open arms and soft kisses.

He’s surprised to find his apartment empty when he returns though. He drops his bag at the door and walks further in, calling out your name. His room looks oddly bare, the bed perfectly made, a note resting on his pillow.

Lando,

I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t hide in the shadows because you’re ashamed of me, or ashamed of your love for me. Whichever it is, it’s taken a toll on me, and I imagine on you as well. I think I might be in some kind of love with you, but I can’t set myself up for heartbreak.

You did amazing in Singapore, and I know you’ll be just as great, if not better, in Japan. I wish I could’ve been there to experience that with you.

~Y/n

Lando’s eyes scanned over the page again and again and again, until the words were burned into his brain. Surely this was just a small blip in your relationship. Maybe he was being neglectful to you, but he never meant for this to come of it.

He forces himself to shower and change into a fresh pair of clothes. He lies in his bed alone, remembering just how cold it is without you sleeping next to him.

When he wakes up he finds himself holding your pillow to his chest. The scent of your shampoo still lingers on the pillowcase, pulling him into a false sense of security. He notices that he’s managed to sleep on your side of the bed, his body subconsciously searching for yours in his sleep.

He tries to call you, to text you, but you don’t answer him. He figures you need time, another day or two. But he’s only got one more day before he’s back on a plane to Japan.

He gathers up the courage to go to your apartment. He was always welcome, you told him, you even gave him a key, but now he feels like he’s a stranger. He knocks on the door, and his breath catches in his throat when you open it.

You’ve got a dress on, the white one with the yellow flowers on it. It’s the dress you wore on your first date. Well, the first time you shared a meal with Lando in his apartment.

You look confused to see him. “What are you doing here Lando?”

He searches for the right words, for any words really, but comes up with nothing other than “You look nice.”

You roll your eyes and walk back into your apartment. Lando notices you don’t close the door behind you, is it an invitation to come inside? He’s taking it as one.

He closes the door behind him as he walks in. He glances around, your apartment pretty much looks the same, save for a few photo frames he’s noticed now sit face down on their respective shelves.

“Lando, I really need to get ready to leave, so again, what are you doing here?” You ask as you look for a pair of shoes to wear.

“You wore the white strappy ones… on our first date.” He avoids your question.

You’re surprised he remembers such a small detail. You shake your head. “We never went on any dates. We sat in your apartment with takeout.”

“They felt like dates…” He mumbles to himself.

“No Lando. This,” you gesture to yourself “this is what going on a date is like. Getting ready to actually be seen in public with someone. To spend time together outside the walls of their home.”

“You’ve got a date?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I do.”

He’s at a loss for words. It’s been a day since you left him the note, how do you already have a date?

“My friend has been dying to set me up. So I told her she could.”

Lando feels something in his stomach turn. “Don’t go on that date.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” It has to be clear to you how much he cares about you, how much he loves you.

“Say it.”

He takes a moment too long to speak before you’re pulling your shoes on.

“You shouldn’t go on that date because you belong with me. We belong together. It’s me and you, not you and a stranger.”

“I can’t be with you if you’re just going to constantly hide me. I can’t live in the shadows anymore. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough.” Your last sentence is quiet as you turn away from him.

“Not enough? You’re everything.” He reaches out for your arm and softly pulls you back to him. “You’re what I look forward to the most every week. You’re the reason I want to win races.” His hands falls further down your arm so that he’s holding your hand. “Y/n, I didn’t want to go public because I was afraid you wouldn’t like it. I was scared that it would be too much, having cameras shoved in your face, being followed around everywhere you go… I didn’t want you to resent me for the life it would give you…”

His eyes are welled up with unshed tears. His hand squeezes yours as he tries to keep hold of the one good constant in his life.

“Please, please don’t go on that date.” His voice cracks.

You’re quick to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head in your neck. His arms wrap around your waist tightly, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets you go.

You agree to give your relationship another try with Lando, on the condition that he doesn’t hide the relationship. He takes you with him to Japan, keeping his hand interlocked with yours as you walk through the paddock. He’s proud when he introduces you to the McLaren team, calling you his girlfriend with a grin on his face.

When he and Oscar both score second and third he’s ecstatic. Both gaining large points for the team is cause for major celebration in the garage. You stand with the team when he parks his car. This time his eyes search for you in the crowd.

As soon as he finds you he throws his arms around you. His race suit is warm, sweat marks are visible in some spots. His face is lined with marks from his balaclava and helmet. He looks beautiful.

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” You ask him as he hugs you.

He practically dives down to kiss you when he pulls away from your hug. You can hear the crowd cheering and cameras flashing, but it’s all just fuzzy in the background of Lando giving you the perfect kiss.

[notroosterbradshaw]

slow dancing in a burning room - seven

word count: 6k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: no man's land. I hope you enjoy it. thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I truly appreciate your effort to show your support and if you like it… please comment and reblog it! x

You’d be lying to say you hadn’t been distracted all morning… not in the best frame of mind, half heartedly urging young teens, “Just another 50m, you got this”, because God knew, you certainly did not have this.

But you were just so tired. You hadn’t been sleeping well, you were just eating enough to say you were eating. You just felt average and it made you so angry how much you’d tangled yourself with Bradley. Self-care had taken a backseat to bury yourself in the pool’s redevelopment, you weren’t bothering with your morning ocean swim - and of course, it had nothing to do with bumping into Bradley on his morning run.

Nothing at all. 

Annie was on your case to pull yourself from your funk where you continually reminded her you were not in. You were in fact quite productive. Between the work, pool and constantly moving things around the apartment (you wished you'd never started to be honest because you just couldn’t make things work as well as they did before you nearly moved), your days were pretty full and you went to bed exhausted.

You’d just finished the early session when the first text came in. Shivering at your desk and wrapped in a sopping towel, just wanting to release the wet, tangled bun on top of your head and a hot shower to dechlorinate your irritated skin after teaching all morning, you knew protecting your peace was going to be difficult today.

Today, Bradley was to be arraigned. 

It had been a beast of a process for him. The last year his life had been so tumultuous - from deciding to move back to California, the highs of falling in love with each other, deciding to take that ridiculously quick step of moving in together. He gets the keys to his parents' villa and renovates it to build a life and a family. Everything he’d wanted for so long, to Maverick’s return. The only family he had that had destroyed all his hopes and dreams, was the Dagger mission… and subsequent crashes. His injuries, forced leave, and his mental health shattered to you leaving a man who didn’t know how to cope and not giving him the benefit of the doubt to try and help more. Your guilt crushed you in ways you’d never imagined you could ever put on another person. 

You bent in every direction for him, and it still wasn’t enough.

But the hidden truths. Your trust in him was shattered, and protecting yourself, something you were always taught, what we’re all taught but sometimes unable to walk away from someone who can’t change… but Bradley needed more help than you. And when he was put on forced leave, that was the final straw because… 

Because he almost died and when you found out through all the mistruths, he broke you. Maybe he didn’t mean to, maybe he wanted to protect you, protect what you had, but the world was bigger than what is redacted at the end of the day.

But without honesty, what the fuck did you have together? Very little, it turned out. Sex wasn’t going to save you, nor the way your heart found a new rhythm when Bradley was with you. Or how safe you felt in his arms, the way his big hands snuck under your shirt and wrapped around your soft tummy to pull you closer to his strong chest - 

Natasha Trace: He has been found not guilty. Don’t ask me what miracle or deity is on his shoulder, but to be released on Article 92 is wild! 

And you were so relieved and not just because you couldn’t compartmentalise didn’t mean those who were overseeing his case couldn’t. That was their job. Their job wasn’t to love Bradley unconditionally and feel the hurt you did for him… with him. Alone. 

It must have felt revolutionary. Your fingers found the characters to reply somehow. You were shaking, your phone trembled in your hand. Where were your glasses?!

You: How is he? Is he okay?

Natasha Trace: Disbelief. Absolute disbelief. Relief. He’s okay.

You: Thank God, thank you for letting me know, Nat.

Natasha Trace: Of course. We’re going for a celebratory drink. Do you wanna join us, or is that still the stupidest question in the world? 

You: The dumbest. 

You: But thank you.  

Natasha Trace: Can I tell him I told you?

You: I don’t think he will care, but ok. Tell him I’m happy for him and hope he’s excited to get in the air again.

Natasha Trace: I think he will get orders pretty quickly…

It sure seemed like a hint. Talk to him now before you lose him for months on end again. 

You: I’m sure he’s very excited about that. MEDHOLD? 

Natasha Trace: Awaiting TBI and psych assessment but he thinks he’s pretty close.

You: Don’t tell him I’m crossing my fingers for him.

Natasha Trace: …no, never 😉

After showering and dressing with a little more pep in your step thanks to Bradley’s good news, your brain got the best of you and you thought maybe it’d be nice to send him a small, “I’m really happy for you. I hope you enjoy getting back up in the skies” message.

Retrieving his number that was no longer your ICE, no longer the top of your Favourites, and unblocking it made your body quake, and like it was a warning, the barrage of texts you’d not received overwhelmed you.

One by one, begging, pleading for your notice, the raw, the anger, the language.

He had given you a few days of quiet before the texts started.

Bradley 🐓: Love, are you sure this is what you need? I can give you anything, let’s just please try and make this work. I’ll give you some time, whatever you want x

Bradley 🐓: I got a Not Delivered back. You’ve blocked me?

Bradley 🐓: You’ve blocked me. Shit.

Bradley 🐓: Okay, I get it, you want space, I’ll give it to you. 

Bradley 🐓: Hey you… checking if I’m still blocked.

Bradley 🐓: YEP. 

Bradley 🐓: Gotta say, I didn’t think you’d ever block me. 

The thing is, you never thought you’d ever have to block Bradley and as you eased back in your chair, your inherent need to nip something irritating to him made your fingers itch. 

Bradley 🐓: Okay, if this is what you want, I’ll leave it to you to come back to me.

Bradley 🐓: I’m so fucking sorry about tonight. I hope the door didn’t hurt you too badly. 

Bradley 🐓: Still fucking blocked. Ok. I won’t bother again. You've made your point. On me for stupidly not believing we are at this place.

You had to wonder if it was even worth sending one of your own. You couldn’t match his tone, his anger and disappointment. The congratulations text just didn’t seem to cut it but before you knew it, the “Natasha told me you’ve been acquitted. I am happy for you, Rooster. Enjoy getting back to work, I know you’ve missed it” text had written itself but it didn’t mean it was as easy to hit the send button.

And it felt colder than it sounded. You hoped he was sitting on his phone and ready to respond but when you were still waiting the next day, you had to admit you weren’t very surprised. Like he cared that you were happy for him, he deserved to move on and not deal with you and your bullshit in his life anymore. 

You desperately wanted to block him just like before, heart not prepared to see his name in your notifications again.

You hit send before you could think anymore and hoped maybe you were blocked on his end too.

“Knock, knock. Favourite granddaughter is here,” you announced, the tiresomeness in your voice evident after the barrage of Bradley’s texts weighed heavily on you as you walked into your grandparents' home for a cheeky late lunch later that day. Washed and primped (washed and in your activewear, naturally. You were a swimming teacher, not a goddamn office drone), you wandered past the photo wall to find Grandpa and… Maverick in the kitchen. Well, fuck. Your luck was the worst.

There wasn’t a midlife crisis motorbike parked out the front… this would teach you to turn up unannounced. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Grandpa smiled, raising his arm for you to fall under with a hug in greeting. “Whatcha doing here?”

“I, uh…” you tried not to stammer. “Lunch. Thought I’d come over and say hi.”

“Do you wanna sandwich or something?” Viper said, jumping into gear. “Can make a tuna melt - ”

“That’s okay, I’ll go,” you started making excuses. You didn’t want to be around Mav and your brain didn’t have the tolerance to try and fight anymore today. “I didn’t realise you had company…” 

Viper caught the gist and nodded slowly. “You gotta eat.” 

“I have food at home,” you told him but kind of waited for Maverick to take the goddamn hint to get the fuck out. This was your safe place; you didn’t need it tainted by Pete Mitchell. 

“I should probably make a move anyway,” Maverick said, knowing fully well that the discomfort in the kitchen was all because of him. How self-aware, you thought glumly.

“No, you stay,” you tried so hard to be polite, but the tension that bubbled in your bloodstream sort of made you kind of want to curse the day the Navy dragged him yours and Bradley’s way again. 

“No, it’s ok – ”

“Don’t Mav. I’ll leave. You stay,” you tried to bite back your exasperation but it certainly didn’t appear that way. 

“Hey,” Viper warned you. He wouldn’t expect you to talk to anyone like that. 

“Look. I’m real sorry, kid,” Maverick tried, and gee, age had worn him.  

You tried to remain passive, but the frown seemed to speak volumes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Why were you so angry at him? Did Mav even know the impact he’d had on your relationship? How Breadley would come home like a bear with a headache, angry, snide. And for that, you just couldn’t seem to disconnect your past from the present and it only made you seethe further. 

“I know I should have done this before because I know I'm the catalyst of a lot of Bradley’s problems. And in part, that burden fell on you.”

You wanted to tell him you didn’t know what he was talking about, to forget it, but as every emotion you had bubbled under the surface, you hissed back, “Well, it’s all very convenient now, I suppose. You get your kid back; you both get back up in the air and live happily ever after.” 

“That’s fair,” Maverick just seemed to take the lash of your tongue in his stride. How pathetic.

“Hey,” Viper said again, a little more warning in his voice.

“Grandpa, Mav almost got Bradley killed,” you said finally.

Viper’s gaze drifted to Mav. “I know the whole story, sweetheart.”

Taken aback, you look at your grandpa. “What?” 

“Bradley came and told me the whole thing.”

You were slow to respond, probably because your brain was overprocessing Grandpa’s reply and the sting it caused. Because Bradley came here when he couldn’t come to you? Because even though he loved you, he felt he couldn’t share this, so he came to Grandpa. 

And he couldn’t come to you?! 

“Jesus, what did you do so right to get some honesty out of him?” you retorted. 

“He was scared, kid. Bradley has already lost everything. He’d lost you. He thought his career was gone too. He needed someone to talk to.”

“I was right there, taking care of him when no one else was able to,” you could feel the rage build within you. “I was right there and he didn’t tell me until he was told - ”

“Because you were the hardest to tell, sweetheart,” Viper told you, the evenness in his voice riling you more. Why wasn’t your blood as furious as you were?! “The person who means the most in the world, who may or may not already have a vendetta against the Navy. How was he going to tell you?”

“How was he going to keep it a secret? When he wakes up screaming with nightmares every night?” you demanded, and Viper nodded slowly because he knew – you remembered vividly the nights you heard Grandpa wake screaming and Nana begged him to calm for your sake. “He’s had PTSD from the Navy since he was four and he still thinks it’s the only place he belongs.”

He belongs with me, you wanted to scream but thankfully managed to bite back.

“He will always have something to prove. With you, without you,” Maverick said your name evenly. “Regardless of anything that ever happened. He barely knew his old man and for a while, he got away with no one knowing Goose Bradshaw was his old man - ”

“So, what… now he’s got more to fight against?” you muttered.

“In a way, yes.”

Oh, you could fucking punch him and resisting it was becoming futile. You turned to him. “Please don’t say another word,” and there was so much threat in your cautioning. You felt feral, every emotion you’d been pushing down since everything exploded was waiting precariously on your tongue and in range was the one who it all centred around. 

Maverick nodded and for a minute, you thought he’d respect your decision… but nope. “I know him so well. It’s what he hates most about me. I knew his father better than he ever did and Rooster is just like Goose. Always bred for more. Always striving for that next part.”

“If you never came back, he’d still be with me, and we’d be happy. Since you walked back into his life, you unapologetically ruined him again after he fought for everything he has now. And I was there. Trying to fix him when he didn’t know how to fix it himself. But it fell on deaf ears because he didn’t trust me enough to tell me - ”

“He trusts you, kid,” Maverick told you evenly. “You are the only one he trusts and that is what makes it worse for him.”  

It was like a car accident. Bradley’s hand was so close to knocking on the weatherboard of the Metcalfe residence and hearing you, the absolute venom in your tone as you lashed Maverick inside. Bradley had never heard you like this, even when you fought with him, your voice was never as cool and callous. 

“I loved him. I wanted my future with him, and it was taken from us.”

“There’s still time - ” Mav tried and for a moment, Bradley stopped breathing because if what came next from your lips gave him the slightest piece of hope, he was going to walk inside and take you in his arms, right where you belonged and make you see reason if it was the last thing he ever did.

“There isn’t - he doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want anything to do with me. He’s got plenty of other options out there, Mav,” you hissed. “You think I’m stupid enough to think he hasn’t moved on? When I saw him at the bar a few weeks ago, he looked right through me. Then his date - whatever she was - followed him out. Trust me, I’m aware Bradley has moved on.”

The men remained quiet, because they knew Bradley hadn’t moved on. Bradley was not thinking about moving on. Bradley was only thinking about you. 

“You didn’t get to Viper’s and invite him for a drink?” Maverick asked a while later, cold beer in hand and sliding another across the bar to Bradley, free Bradley, Bradley who was ready to get up in the air again and get his life back on track after one of the worst periods of his life.

And shit, he’d had a lot of them in his short time on the planet to compare. 

He gave Mav a wary side-eye. “No, by the time I got back from the gym, I thought it was rude to pop over around dinner time,” Bradley lied spectacularly, and he knew Mav could see right through him. He'd watched his godson from the moment he walked in, rigid, terse and for a guy who had the world at his feet again, Mav knew something was still troubling him.

“Talk to me, Bradley.”

“Mav, I heard her.”

“Heard who?” Mav was clueless to Bradley’s less-than-subtle hints. Who else was she?

Bradley sighed, easing against the sticky bar as Javy came past, shaking his shoulders happily. “Congrats, brother. So fuckin' happy for you!” he exclaimed as Bradley gave a sheepish grin in reply and Javy said he’d be back with drinks shortly. 

“Bradley,” Mav got his attention again.

He sighed, sipping his beer to wet his throat. “I heard her yell at you, at Viper and I almost didn’t recognise her voice because of the anger laced in it. And it was because of me she was that heated.” 

Of course. Bradley had come to invite Viper for a drink and caught your vitriol instead. Mav sighed, contemplating his next words. Because even though he’d just got him back in his life, he knew his fractured relationship with Bradley was going to take time to heal fully. Knowing what he knew about Bradley, if he pushed too hard, he would resist. He was so headstrong, and at times, unable to see the forest for the trees, but Mav persisted carefully anyway. “Something tells me, like you, Bradley… she’s had this vendetta lined up for a while. Viper, her old man, now you, and probably me because of my involvement in the last few months... years, I suppose.”

“Doesn’t give her the right to take it out on anyone,” Bradley reminded him.

“She probably never has, and that’s why this smarts so much. You’re more alike than you think. Allathis,” Mav motioned around them at the Naval paraphernalia hanging around the bar. “It’s all you both know. She hasn’t felt the joy from it you do. She lost her faith a long time ago. And for now, you are collateral damage from years of turmoil.

When did this motherfucker get so smart? It left a bitter taste in Bradley's mouth he could be receiving such frank advise from MAv after everything they'd been through.

"But if it told me anything, son, it's that woman loves you and that’s what is making everything so much harder for her.” 

Staring hard at the older man, Bradley guzzled the cool beer down his throat and for once, didn’t know what to say, so Maverick continued, “If anything, have faith that she is still crazy about you. And it’s not over, but it will take time. And it’ll need to be the right time.” 

“When’d you start dishing out all this maturity?” it was all Bradley could find himself saying as Mav broke into a smirk that was almost permanent on his face as a younger, much more careless man. The years had matured him. Gone was the flashy, wide unbeatable grin that was constantly in competition with Ice for the biggest ego and accolades, replaced with a softer version, one that had listened and learned from the auxiliary noise around him. 

One of Mav’s biggest regrets was never settling down and having a family. When it didn’t work with Charlie all those years ago, and it took so long for him and Penny to see eye to eye on where they wanted to be in life, he knew he had to step back and re-evaluate how to get where he needed to. And that didn’t always mean fighting for it, it sometimes meant to take that step back and let fate take its course. 

When Goose died, Mav tried to step in to be the father that Bradley had lost, and for a long time, Bradley let him try and fill that void of a father figure. But it only took one betrayal on Mav’s behalf to become Bradley’s enemy and the resentment that Bradley had for him shook Mav to his core. It wasn't a risk he was willing to take again. He knew better and would do what was needed to support his family the way they needed it. This time, he was going to be everything Bradley needed even if it was to his detriment.

It was only a few days later after your showdown with Mav that you’d gotten word Bradley had flown out, and you were free as a bird to leave the house and see what the outside world had turned into while you’d turned your back on it. Why, you wondered at this time, you’d bothered, was another thing.

“So, if you don’t have a boyfriend, why can’t I buy you a drink?” the young officer asked as you chewed your tongue and could swear, you tasted blood. What was it with these Navy fuckboys who thought anyone was fair game after a few drinks? Not all that much had changed, not even the quiet seething Bob displayed a few seats up, prepping himself to step in.

What was wrong with you to think coming here was a good idea… at any time… anymore?

“Because I have a drink,” you explained quietly again, showing he couldn't take no for an answer, your glass. “I don’t need another. I appreciate the gesture, but no.” 

“Come on, just one.”

“Holy shit – ” you finally snapped but you felt his body heat behind you before you could get the words out. You’d know it anywhere. When did he walk in? …how much had he seen? He wasn't supposed to be here!

You stiffened and maybe more agitated than you were before. 

“Lieutenant,” the young pilot straightened, and it all but confirmed you knew Bradley Bradshaw, who was supposed to be on a boat somewhere in the middle of the big blue was behind you. You were going to kill Hangman. Kill him.

“Nice to see you, Rhodes. Heard you got blown out of the sky today…” Bradley said, the amusement in his voice paramount but you didn’t once let your guard down. You didn’t need him to fight your battles for you. 

“Uh, yeah…” the meekness in the young officer’s voice was obvious. You didn’t always realise the command Bradley had over others. Of course, you knew how people were drawn to him, but seeing him with a subordinate was infatuating, to say the least. You didn’t often see him in a position of real power, and it would be shameful to admit, it was sexy. 

“And by Hangman no less,” Bradley laughed quietly, that amused chuckle that you knew had a whole other hidden meaning. “Would probably be a good idea to stop drowning your sorrows and prepare for tomorrow, huh?”

“Guess so…”

“And apologise.”

“Look, I didn’t think you guys were dating anymore – ” Rhodes tried but didn’t offer an apology.

“What difference does that make?” you snapped, confidence growing in Bradley’s presence. You felt him stand a little closer, his heat prickling your back, behind you you wondered if he noticed it too.

“If you think that is what this is about, your ego is more outta check than you’re letting on."

You heard Rhodes mutter, “I’m sorry,” while he skulked away, and you finally breathed as Bradley stayed quiet behind you. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” you heard him mutter as he joined his other friends. 

“You okay?” Bradley asked gently. 

“I’m fine,” you reassured him, the slight snipe still in your voice. But you didn’t dare turn to face him, because if you looked up at him, that would make this whole thing real - that he was right there with you. You weren’t surprised when your stool was slowly spun towards him and his friendly, impish smile graced his handsome face… his beard was well grown in and manicured to the navy’s specification, his sun-kissed curls a lot longer than you’d ever seen on him and you swear, he’d never looked more handsome. “Hi.” you managed and God, he looked desperate to be kissed. You missed those plump, beautiful lips. 

“Hello,” he replied, holding your gaze. Not hard, just… tender. 

“Thanks. You didn’t need to… do that.”

“I know I didn’t. And I know you’re perfectly capable of standing up for yourself. I just wanted to make sure that little pissant knew what he was getting himself into if he went ten rounds with you.”

And you couldn’t help it as you bit back a giggle, hiding your burgeoning laughter behind your hand. Because if he knew one thing about you… it was that you were the dirtiest fucking fighter around and that poor kid would have been laid out with your lash of the tongue alone. “Well, you’d know…” you admitted as he licked back a smirk of his own and hummed. “Can I buy you a drink to say thanks?” you offered softly, and you weren’t sure he’d even heard you in the commotion of a Friday night. You barely heard the sound of your voice from the raging heartbeat in your ears.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking back at the fellas… all of whom were keenly watching on. Unabashed and gawking. Fuck those guys, he rolled his eyes and came back to you. “I shouldn’t…” 

“Get her a drink, you goddamn pussy!” Hangman mouthed viciously and Bradley pretended he couldn’t read his wingman’s lips. He wished he couldn't.

“Yeah, okay. The least you can do is buy me a beer.”

“Hangman has a tab,” you informed him, that devious glint in your eyes shining. 

“Top-shelf whiskey,” Bradley replied confidently.

You gave the order and times it by two, Bradley raising an interested eyebrow. You stayed together in a strange silence for a while, both waiting for your drinks to whet your palette and bring up the courage to say something that was simply… kind… to the other. God knows your last conversation was anything but. 

Taking your first thankful sips, you both laughed as the exact same line came out to the other, “How have you been?” you both dropped your eyes bashfully, uncomfortably and you tried asking him again.

“Not too bad,” he admitted. 

“I was told you had shipped out.” You would still kill Hangman.

“Checking up on me?” his upper lip twitched as you ducked your head. “Phoenix?”

“Hangman,” you corrected him as he chuckled quietly. 

“Dick,” he muttered shortly. “They extended my medical leave just another few days. Paperwork.”

You looked at him, he looked right as rain. 

“And you were right about the shitty shrink stuff,” he pointed to his head while he read yours. “PTSD.”

Well, yeah, you wanted to say it was the least shocking thing he could tell you. “Oh. Oh, Bradley,” you said delicately.

He nodded and shrugged. “Please don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve seen that whole look my whole fuckin’ life, I just can’t stand you looking at me like that too. This is what I’ve been trying to avoid from the get-go.” 

“Then you’re gonna really hate me after this,” you gently touched his ribs, knowing their previous injury and left your hands to skim his cotton tee before wrapping him in your grasp, the muscles tense under your touch. “I’m sorry, Bradley,” you murmured into his chest, and he sighed, his breath against you shuddered. Your shampoo invaded his nostrils, and goddamn, if he didn’t miss that fuckin’ perfect scent and how it lingered. 

He couldn’t fight it if he tried and he wrapped his arms around you, trying to desperately not lose it and do all he really wanted to do – cry. Cry for him, cry for you, cry for how badly you’d both fucked up. And he’d be lying to say that being in your arms felt so good. He missed the warmth of your curves, maybe a little less than he remembered, and he breathed you in, his love. And the hardest thing he ever had to get over.

Because, unlike his other losses, who left his life, wholly? You were there every day while he tried to make it without you. That sting of trying to get over you in every facet of his life and he just couldn’t move on from you. And that made it worse. 

“It’s not all bad,” he said, lips so close to your ear. “A long story short, I did get clearance and I’m out in 48 hours. Just for the record. The counselling has to continue weekly.”

“Just like me,” you said, a little sing-song. 

Bradley scoffed, humoured. “Yeah… just like you. A pair a’ damaged goods.”  

“Jesus Christ,” you exclaimed, breaking the revelry as Bradley’s arms were covered in cool liquid and he figured, so was your back.

“What the fuck?” he pulled back, alarmed as he looked at some of the younger officers getting into each other’s faces, glasses hitting the floor, drinks flying. It was broken up as quickly as it escalated, Bradley pushing you gently behind him to avoid getting caught in the fracas. “You okay?” he asked over his shoulder as you were reaching for the napkins on the bar just out of your reach. He moved before you and retrieved them, helping you dab away whatever had - yep, drenched you, the back of your hair dripping and the back of your dress sopping. 

“Yeah, just a drink or something,” you sighed.

“Lemme help,” he said, carefully turning you around and tenderly mopping up the bare skin on your back. And he’d be lying to say that if he just reached a little lower, he’d be able to kiss that freckle behind your ear, but blinking that image away, he knew this was not the time to be fantasising about the woman whom he fantasised about every night. 

He sighed and removed his shirt, white V-neck underneath. “Take this,” he said your name a few times over the commotion in the bar after the almost fight.

Raising your hands, you told him not to worry. You’d just take off and get a shower. “It was a bad idea coming out tonight. You know when you feel it’s not the time?”

“Well, you did think I had already flown out, so you probably should have trusted your intuition.” 

And you stared up at him, watching him biting back a grin and as he wrapped his shirt over your shoulders, watching you slip your arms into the sleeves, all he wanted to do was pull you in tight again, kiss your hair and tell you how he was still so in love with you that it was keeping him awake at night, that it was you that he still jerked off and willingly spilling into his hand and all over his stomach to. He imagined you riding him, giving him the messiest head like only you knew how, kissing him while he made love to you, and he held your arms trapped above your head as you trembled beneath him, as you came around him. 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked, chewing his lip, and fixing the collar on the shirt. But you were so swept up in his smell that lingered, and as you tightened it around yourself, your eyes changed just for that flash that told Bradley that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just him who was feeling the way he was. “Can I drive you home?” 

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I know you have things to do tomorrow - ”

“Come on,” he offered gently, nudging his head towards the door and as he collected your bag and urged you to wander out before him, you knew it was going to take all your strength to just allow this to happen. “Lemme get you outta here.” 

And who were you to argue? Because honestly. You’d follow him anywhere. The man you loved, the man you’d hurt so badly. Nodding gently and seeing that sweet gentleness in his honey-coloured eyes, you let him usher you ahead, his strong hand easy on your lower back, just like it was any other night, the way he’d guide you through the masses, softly, securely, protectively. 

You wriggled as the cool alcohol pressed into your back, and Bradley flinched, thinking you wanted his hands off you – when it couldn’t be any further from the truth. He took his palm away and opened the door as you exited. “You really don’t have to drop me home,” you told him. “I’ll just grab an Uber.”

“It’s fine, really. I had, like, two drinks. Probably best I call it a night and make sure I’m organised anyway,” he replied, leading you to the Bronco. He unlocked your side and naturally opened the door, offering his hand to help you step in.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking his offered warm palm and he helped hoist you in with the slightest of assistance. Buckling up, your eyes followed him to the driver’s side, and he just looked so handsome. You were surrounded by him with his shirt and cologne filling your senses. It all felt too familiar and that scared you terribly. He was fiddling with the keys before popping in and hopping into the seat. He gave you a small smile as he buckled up and gunned the engine, unsurprisingly Al Green low through the stereo. 

It was a quiet trip towards your apartment, keeping your eyes on the passing coastline, scared if you looked at him, you’d do something stupid and just revelling in being the closest you’d been to him in months. 

“You see they demolished that old villa near Penny’s place?” he mumbled. 

“Yeah, how ridiculous,” you said to him. “It was such a gorgeous home. I think they’re dozing it for apartments or something,” you continued the small talk as you passed his villa. You noticed the ladder out front and scaffolding around the roof. “How’s it all going here?”

“Ahh, okay,” he shrugged, trying to focus on the road. “You know, a lot to be done still.”

“I can imagine,” you agreed, studying his face. His profile was completely different with his neat beard, but the rest of him was bigger and stronger. He’d laid countless hours into the gym while on leave and you could see the proof. Your eyes travelled over his tanned biceps and the way the white tee sleeve strained over them, following the vein to his inner elbow and wrist, hand clutching the gear shirt, long fingers wrapped around it. “Thanks for the lift home.”

“Anytime,” he replied, peeking a look back at you and a small smile crept to his handsome features, knowing he was sprung. But alas, so were you. “What?”

You shook your head gently, mortified inside that he caught you checking him out. But what were you to do? He was always so incredibly handsome, and you just missed being near him, being around his warmth, even if it wasn’t something you could bathe in like you used to. 

As much as he made you nervous to be in this proximity again… you felt incredibly content just being with him. His quiet calm always had a way of reassuring you, even before you started dating. 

A few more moments in relative silence aside from the stereo, Bradley pulled into the apartment carpark and put the car in park.

Ask him in, your brain screamed.

Kiss him, it added.

Fix this, your brain had officially melted down.

And when all you muttered was a “thanks” for driving you home, for giving up his shirt, for being the bigger person to be able to do both… you sunk into a funk that you just weren’t expecting tonight. Because even though the night was a happy accident, there was so much unsaid.

“No problem,” he said, hands gripping the steering wheel like if you tried to kiss him, he would let you, like if you asked him in, he’d willingly follow. He was anticipating your next move but you didn’t know what it was. 

“Bye,” you unbuckled and opened the door, scooting out before you made more of a mess of everything than you had to now. 

“Night,” he said, sadly lips pursed together as you gently closed the door over and refused to look back as you went to the stairs and forced one foot then the next to continue climbing the flights until you were safely at your door. 

With one last glance back, you weren’t surprised to still see Bradley’s Bronco parked and you waved timidly, not willing to see if he returned the gesture before finding solace in your apartment.

You tossed your bag on the bench and made a beeline for your bedroom, spent. Mentally, your brain was fried. Physically, all you could think about was Bradley and how he could amp you up with very little attempt on his behalf. You wrapped his shirt tightly around you, taking in the Acqua di Gio that lingered.

You missed the way the scent drifted around the apartment and how much it truly reminded you of him. You carefully slipped it off and folded it just like he would have if it were him removing it before unzipping your damp dress, the alcohol stinging gently against your skin and discarded the dress in a pile at your feet. 

Needing a hot shower, you rinsed yourself of the mess of the evening but as you hung your towel up after your evening skincare, Bradley’s cologne wasn’t lost on you in the small room. His smell overwhelmed you and as you moved towards the shirt again, bringing the collar to your nose, you knew the time had come to fix this. 

To fix you.

To fix him.

And to fix you back together.

masterlist.

Big thanks as always to @sometimesanalice for helping me get this fic over this line when this chapter really needed it! x

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

The Sweetest Thing

Roy Kent x Teacher!Reader

Warnings: Language

0.5k words

Teach Me Tonight Masterlist

“Did you hear me?”

“Hmm?”

“I said, what flavor d’you want?”

Damn. You’d been caught staring at Roy Kent- again. You had to be imagining the softness that appeared in his brown eyes as he gazed at you, waiting for you to pick what kind of ice cream you wanted.

Averting your eyes to the ice cream display, you cleared your throat. “Um, chocolate I guess?”

His smirk was full of teasing. “You guess?”

“Chocolate,” you confirmed with a chuckle.

That smile- that stupid, wonderful smile- had you making emergency lesson plans in your head, because surely you’d need at least a week to recover from it. He quickly ordered three ice creams, waving your hand away gingerly when you tried to slip him a few quid. It had to be an accident when his fingers brushed yours- right?

Needing a moment to collect yourself, you excused yourself to go wash your hands once the three of you found a small outside table, leaving Roy alone with a suspiciously quiet Phoebe.

“Oi.” He hooked a finger around her little ice cream bowl and tugged it away from her now pouting face. “Tell me the fucking truth. Why’d your mum tell you to invite your teacher to our practice?”

“Well,” Phoebe started slowly, eyes zeroed in on her treat. “She said it would be a nice thing to do. And, well…” Her gaze flickered to her uncle. “She also said she wanted me to tell her all about the look on your face when she showed up.”

Roy’s cheeks were on fire; he was going to fucking murder his sister. “And what face did I make?”

His niece looked thoughtful. “Well, you looked surprised. A little nervous. And sort of happy.” Her face turned mischievous. “Mum says you fancy-”

“Did you uncle really steal your ice cream, Pheebs?”

As you took the seat next to him, Roy slid the little bowl back towards the little traitor, his heart quickening at the sound of your teasing. “If you’d been gone another minute, yours would’ve been next,” he joked, feeling his entire body soften when he realized how close you were.

With a playful eyeroll that surprised you, you smiled at Phoebe. “So, Pheobe, did you tell your uncle about how you did on last week’s spelling test?”

The three of you dove into easy conversation- about school, football, Phoebe’s friends. It felt wonderfully natural, eating ice cream with Roy Kent and his niece, as if the three of you hung out all the time. The relaxed way he looked at you, the way he made you and Phoebe laugh, hell, even the way he held out his bowl so you could try a bit of his cinnamon-vanilla ice cream, all of it made you forget that he was a famous footballer; it was almost as if he could be any student’s handsome, funny, kind uncle who you had an ever-growing crush on.

By the time the three of you walked back to the school parking lot and the uncle-niece duo wished you a good rest of your weekend- with Roy thanking you for joining them- you finally admitted the embarrassing, thrilling truth to yourself: You were positively, absolutely, undeniably smitten with Roy fucking Kent.

Taglist:@infinetlyforgotten @gothicwidowsworld@taytaylala12@amieinghigh@klaine-92@misshall14@rosesheerio@goose-101 @gee72sstuff @alainabooks143@lwritesstuff@hayden-maximoff @optimisticsandwichgladiator @veryprairieberry @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @jaymum@shakespeareanwannabe @axelsagewrites @kidd3ath @brainscabs @v-nest @just35yrsandtrying

[mclennie]

In the prequel, Suzanne Collins continues exploring one of the central themes of the THG trilogy: how the adults and government in the series use children, the most innocent in society, for their own aims.

This is primarily seen in the original trilogy with the cruelty of the games, where the government has deemed it legal and proper to take custody of children, throw them in harm's way, and make them kill each other to pay for the sins of their forefathers.

In TBOSAS, we get to see how Lucy Gray and the other tributes were dehumanized and thrown in cages to be gawked at by Capitol citizens who viewed them as little more than animals. They were kept in chains and survived on handouts, with some tributes having to entertain Capitol citizens for food (tbosas, pg 96).

But it's also clear Capitol children aren't as protected in Capitol society as expected. Dr. Volumnia Gaul makes Clemensia Dovecote retrieve the proposal she claims she worked on with Snow from the tank of rainbow snakes, knowing she could be seriously injured. She even hides the truth of Clemensia's injury from her parents, saying she has the flu.

This makes Snow, who witnessed Clemensia's injury and the death of his classmate Arachne earlier by another tribute, reel at the implication that the Capitol puts little value on children's lives, whether Capitol or district.

"He buried his head in his hands, confused, angry, and most of all afraid. Afraid of Dr. Gaul. Afraid of the Capitol. Afraid of everything. If the people who were supposed to protect you played so fast and loose with your life... then how did you survive? Not by trusting them, that was for sure. And if you couldn't trust them, who could you trust? All bets were off" (tbosas pg 116).

Even Snow gets put into harm's way when Dr. Gaul asks him to retrieve Sejanus from the arena, with the peacekeepers guarding the arena lying to him that they "have his back" (pg 231). But when the pack of tributes goes after Snow and Sejanus, the peacekeepers don't do anything to save them, forcing Snow to kill Bobbin in self-defense. When an angry Snow complains to the peacekeepers, they all say they were following Dr. Gaul's orders (pg 239).

And it goes back to something Sejanus says when confronting Gaul in front of all his classmates. Shouldn't the government protect everyone, district and Capitol alike? (tbosas 92). Not in Panem's society, where children are seen as complicit in their parents and grandparents' crimes, where their innocence is stolen from them, where they are asked to kill or be killed.

[pokemonshelterstories]

I will forever be graceful that my mom talked me out of doing the gym run. Like, dude, you were 15, had your starter (who was still a weak rowlet) for 10 months and you really thought you could travel the region and get all the badges? I was a really delusional kid. My friends didn't enjoyed their summer vacation at all and the only one who got all the badges and became champion class was the one friend who had been preparing a team since middle school (3 years before getting our starters) and who's dad was a gym leader so she could stay at nice hotels instead of camping. When they told me all about it at the start of 11th grade I made sure to thank my mom for helping me dodge that bullet.

yeah, seeing kids go on actual journeys at this point is a pretty rare thing nowadays, and honestly i think it's for the best. the truth is, the vast majority of gym challengers don't win more than two badges; i think the most recent survey by the international pokemon league said that dropout rate is between 68-83% by the third gym depending on the region, and 89-92% by the fourth?

battling on a competitive level is such a rare occurrence, and most gym challengers will never get to that point. so the idea of disrupting such a formative time in your life for it really perplexes me. i think in some ways the concept of the pokemon league has gotten away from the original purpose of pokemon battling, which was to further the bond between trainer and pokemon. a lot of it's about winning competitions these days, so people start early to have the best shot. if less focus was put on beating gyms and entering tournaments, i think more people would wait, and it'd ultimately be better for them and their pokemon.

[milesdickpic]

His Little Girl | Bradley Bradshaw X Reader

His Little Girl Master List (WIP) 🫶🏼

Ch. 1: Just the Beginning

Ch. 2: Little Leia

Ch. 3: Revenge of the Sixth

Ch. 4: The Real Reason I’m Here

Ch. 5: Austin ❤️

Ch. 6: The Best Day of Your Life

Ch. 7: The Beach Scene…

Ch. 8: Bradley…Bradshaw…

Ch. 9: A Date?

Ch. 10: Time to Let Go

Ch. 11: “Stay, Austin.”

Ch. 12: You Were Each Other’s First Everything

Ch. 13: His Little Girl 🥹🫶🏼

Ch. 14: Every Time I Close My Eyes

Ch. 15: Goodbye, Again…

Ch. 16: Bradley’s Wings

Ch. 17: Dagger 2, Up and Ready

Ch. 18: “MAAAAAAV!”

Ch. 19: They’re Mine

Ch. 20: Our Little ‘Bob’

Ch. 21: Papa Mav Duty

Ch. 22: Bradley Meets Billy

Ch. 23: The Banquet

Ch. 24: Leia’s Family 🥰

Ch. 25: Hangman’s Little Wing-Girl

Ch. 26: It’s Been a Week and a Half…

Ch. 27: Lieutenant Bradshaw

Ch. 28: Leia is a Kindergartner

Ch. 29: Daddy Rooster, Sir. 🫡

Ch. 30: Leia’s Callsign Party

Ch. 31: Name: Leia Rey, Her Callsign: …..?

Ch. 32: Fanboy the Tooth Fairy

Ch. 33: Dagger Squad vs. Vapor’s Homework

Ch. 34: Welcome Home, Baby

Ch. 35: Party the Night Away

Ch. 36: Rooster’s Cockpit (that’s still me… 🥺)

Ch. 37: Scarred for Life

Ch. 38: Paradise

Ch. 39: The Venue

Ch. 40: Last Day in Paradise

Ch. 41: Welcome Home Kisses

Ch. 42: Leia’s Puppy

Ch. 43: Best Man and Maid of Honor

Ch. 44: Bridesmaids and Groomsmen

Ch. 45: Will You Give Me Away?

Ch. 46: The Fitting

Ch. 47: The Final Venue

Ch. 48: Practice Dinner

Ch. 49: The Breakdown

Ch. 50: Bachelor vs. Bachelorette

Ch. 51: Wedding Planning

Bradshaw Wedding Invitations 🤵🏻‍♂️❤️👰🏻‍♀️

Ch. 52: Our Little Secret

Ch. 53: At Last, My Love

Ch. 54: Love Forever, Nick and Carole Bradshaw

Ch. 55: The Wedding Pt. 1 " 'Til Death Do Us Part' "

Ch. 56: The Wedding Pt. 2 "The VIPs"

Bradshaw Wedding Reception Playlist 🤵🏻‍♂️🔥👰🏻‍♀️🍾

Ch. 57: The Wedding Pt. 3 "Surprise, Baby"

Ch. 58: The Wedding Pt. 4 "Bound Forever"

Ch. 59: The Deployment

Ch. 60: Take Care of Momma For Me

Ch. 61: The Bradshaw Twins

Ch. 62: Phantom

Ch.63: "Mav, Tell Me the Truth"

Ch. 64: Little White Lie

Ch. 65: Package Received

Ch. 66: Austin the Caregiver

Ch. 67: Perfect Father? Perfect Husband?

Ch. 68: Reunited With the Love of Our Life

Ch. 69: Two Weeks with Nat and Jake

Ch. 70: Bye Bye Kindergarten 👩🏻‍🎓

Ch. 71: "This One's For You, Dad."

Ch. 72: My Heart Will Go On

Ch. 73: "I Can't Do This Without Him."

Ch. 74: "I'll Always Be In Your Heart."

Ch. 75: The Awakening

Ch. 76: Baby Steps

Ch. 77: The Long Road Home

Ch. 78: It's Not Your Time. Fight.

Ch. 79: Welcome to the World, Bradshaw Boys

Ch. 80: Leia and Luke Bradshaw

Ch. 81: Luke and Bradley Bradshaw

Ch. 82: First Night Madness

Ch. 83: The God Parents

Ch. 84: Dadley Dadshaw

Ch. 85: Leia's Luau

Ch. 86: Days in the Life of the Bradshaws

Ch. 87: A Bradshaw Christmas

Ch. 88: Sleeping in the New Year

Ch. 89:

Ch. 90:

Ch. 91:

Ch. 92:

Ch. 93:

Ch. 94:

Ch. 95:

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Relistening to MAG 92 is always such a treat, not only because we get all the cast in one place and I'm in love with Elias Bouchard, but also because, in retrospect, I feel like it's the one and only time we get a glimpse of the truth of Jonah Magnus'... heart.

Like, yes, in 160 we also get part of it, I suppose, but MAG 160 is so polished; it's so perfectly tailored to what /Jon needs to hear/; Jon has already by that point a very clear idea of who he thinks Jonah Magnus is: and i'm not saying it's necessary a wrong idea, but Jonah heavily leans on it - Yes. I am evil. And how freeing it was to realize I was. Yes. I want power, and immortality. That's all there is to it.

But MAG 92 shows, I guess, the Jonah Magnus... in the process of realizing "that truth" that he'll be so calmly able to recount a century later. There's a genuine emotional aspect in Elias telling Jon "You may believe to have confidantes but don't trust that". when you know, later on, that every friend Jonah had picked a power and went through with it, or became prey to them. I believe that Jonah Magnus DID care about Barnabas, and still let him die because the curiosity was too strong. I also believe keeping his bones here is both out of sentiment and out of a warning to himself of what happens to those who do not head the warnings sent their way.

Barnabas was warned. Barnabas didn't listen. Jonah is always so, so careful because he will not be a victim. He will not become prey. But in the process of course you cannot let sentiment guide you anywhere ever again. You cannot trust anything or anyone but yourself and your own mind.

God, he's such a character, i love him so MUCH

[humansofnewyork]

“I call it God’s Gift; it’s priceless. 1981 Oldsmobile Cutlass, right? I got a great deal on it. And I knew it matched my vibe. In the beginning it was all about the exterior. Visual stuff, you know what I mean: add-ons, and new rims, and new tires with fresh white walls. But I ended up losing my first engine. Because I never paid much attention to things like maintenance, and oil changes. How clean it should be on the inside. When they lifted the old engine out of the car, I remember thinking: it looks just like a mechanical heart. It made me think about the food I was eating. There were never many healthy choices in my community. It was McDonald’s every day after school. Either that or corner store food: powdered donuts, sunflower seeds, bag of chips. I grew up on that, heavily. Those are low vibrational foods. And I think they were responsible for a lot of my most negative behaviors. Right now I’m in transition to a plant-based diet. And I definitely try to stay away from anything man-made. People in my community see me in the street, just by my panache, my verve. They notice it. And they want to know: what can they do to obtain it? I tell them the truth: the diet. Then I invite them to stop by my place for a juice. I make it every morning in the kitchen. All my ingredients come from a local market in Yonkers. I choose rare, exotic fruits: things that can be out of reach: passion fruit, dragon fruit, sour sop, purple carrots, golden beets. My specialty is sea moss. Sea moss has 92 out of the 100 minerals that your body needs. And I mix it right. A lot of this stuff is new to the people in my community. But I can tell you right now, never had anyone yet, make a funny face about one of my drinks.”

[fortheloveofwonderland]

You Know My Heart | Part 2/2 | S.R

Not my gif

Part One

Summary - with the wedding rapidly approaching, will Spencer be able to convince you that he’s the man you should be marrying?

A/N - second and final part for @imagining-in-the-margins Wedding Challenge. I have no excuses for why this took so long to post, I’ve had this written since September I just forgot to post it. I’m sorry to those who have been waiting for it.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - friends to lovers | angst with happy ending | fluff

Warnings - swearing, pining, mentions of male masturbation, drinking, bachelorette party shenanigans, making out, drunken mistakes, angst, tears.

Word Count - 10.6k

Part Two

92 Days until the Wedding

When Spencer had shown up at your door the following morning with coffee and pastries, you’d almost slammed the door in his face. 

But just before you did he’d blurted out the words shopping and on me and your interest had been piqued. 

So you let him take you on a shopping trip, deliberately making him spend out on frivolous things you’d never normally buy and you had to admit you were impressed by his commitment to make it up to you. 

By the time he almost brought a designer handbag for you, you decided to let him off the hook. 

He was about to hand his credit card over, a look of concern for his poor bank account all over his face, when you reached out and gently placed your hand on his arm. 

“Don’t.” You shook your head. 

He turned to you with a frown, so did the cashier. 

“But I-“

“It’s enough. Seriously.” You motioned to all the bags on the floor he’d been lugging around. 

The cashier gave you a slightly frustrated look as Spencer tentatively slotted his card away, collected up the bags and let you lead him from the store.

There was a coffee cart outside and you brought the both of you a drink before sitting down on a bench surrounded by your haul. 

“You really didn’t need to do any of this.” You spoke, giving him a guilty look. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining.” A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. 

“Well you were pretty adamant. I would have been happy with a simple apology.” 

“I’ll remember that for next time.” He sipped his coffee. “Because I’m sure there will be a next time. I keep fucking up with you recently and I don’t know why.” 

You exhaled, glancing up at the sky as you played with your coffee cup in your hands. 

“You’re happy for me, aren’t you Spencer?” You asked without looking at him. 

“Of course I am.” He lied, chewing on his lip. 

“Do you think I’m…” you looked back at him and he could see the uncertainty in your eyes. “Am I doing the right thing? Or am I just kidding myself thinking this is going to work out?” 

That was Spencer’s opening. It was the perfect opportunity for him to tell you exactly what he thought about your impending nuptials. 

You were asking him what he thought. You wanted his opinion. 

Your eyes practically begged him for the truth, while you rolled your bottom lips nervously between your teeth. 

Spencer’s mouth was suddenly dry. The words were on the tip of his tongue, caught somewhere in the back of his throat. The words he’d so desperately wanted to say to you since the day at the airport when you’d introduced your husband to be. 

You shouldn’t marry him. This is a mistake. Marrying him will be the biggest mistake you ever make. 

You think you love him but you don’t. He thinks he loves you but he doesn’t. Or maybe he does, I don’t know. But I do know that he can’t possibly love you as much as I do. 

No one in the world could ever love you like I do. And I know what you’re thinking, why am I telling you this now? Why after ten years of friendship did I decide to tell you my feelings after you got engaged?

The truth is, I was stupid and spent all these years burying my head in the sand. I missed what’s been right in front of my face this whole time. 

It wasn’t until we spent time apart that I realised what I’ve probably always felt for you. When you were gone it smacked me around the face like a tonne of bricks. 

I am in love with you Y/N. Maybe I always have been, I can’t say for sure. But I can say definitively that I am in love with you now and I will be in love with you for the rest of my life. 

So no, I don’t think you’re doing the right thing. Yes, I do think you’re kidding yourself. He is not the man you should marry. 

I am. 

Marry me Y/N. Be my wife and let me show you what love really is. Let’s grow old together, create a life together we can one day tell our kids and grandkids about. 

Marry me, not him. Choose me and I swear you’ll never wonder even for a second if you’re doing the right thing or not because you will know you are. 

“Spencer?” You spoke again after he was silent in thought for some time. 

He shook his head, banishing his thoughts from his brain with a heavy sigh. 

“Do you think you’re doing the right thing?” He drummed his fingers against his cup. 

“I think so, yeah.” You nodded. 

“Then that’s all that matters.” He smiled a little sadly before looking away from you, taking a sip of his drink. “This coffee tastes like garbage.”

You frowned, watching his profile as he stared off into the distance. He had a strange look on his features, one you couldn’t place. 

He looked partially contemplative but with a hint of sadness and you didn’t understand why. He’d purposefully changed the subject too. 

Something was definitely bugging him. You just couldn’t tell what it was. 

Even after all these years Spencer was sometimes so hard to read. He’d been trained by the FBI to never give away what he was thinking or feeling. He used that to his advantage. 

“Yeah, it’s not great.” You sighed in agreement, still watching the side of his face intently. “So uh…I need to tell you something.” 

That caught his attention and turned back to face you. Your tone already told him it wasn’t something he was going to like. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant? Is that why you’re getting married? Did he get you pregnant?” His eyes widened at you.

“What?” You shook your head. “No I am not pregnant! Thanks for that though.” You subconsciously rubbed your stomach. 

“I didn’t mean…I’m not saying you look pregnant! I just…” he trailed off shaking his head before he could dig the hole any deeper. “What did you want to say?” 

You pouted a little at his insinuation before sighing lightly. 

“Well, as you know the wedding is in Rome…” you picked at the sleeve of your coffee cup. 

“Yeah…?” Spencer frowned at you, trying to read your expression which wasn’t at all hard for him. 

It was written all over your face and his frown faded, being replaced by a sadder expression. 

“You’re not coming back, are you?” 

“No.” You shook your head. “Antonio’s decided to sell his architecture firm and start over back in Rome. His parents are getting older and I think he’s worried he doesn’t have a lot of time left to spend with them. I think it’s good, I think we’ll be happy there.” 

You sounded more as though you were trying to convince yourself than Spencer. Spencer just narrowed his eyes on you, scrutinising you. 

“The museum were really happy with my work while I was out there and they’ve procured me a role at the Galleria Borghese. They’re helping out with moving costs and everything.” You smiled but Spencer noticed it didn’t reach your eyes. 

“You don’t speak Italian.” He scoffed. “How are you going to work in a country where you don’t speak the language?” 

“They were actually in need of some English speaking curators. You’ve heard of tourists, right?” You chuckled but it was an uneasy sound. 

Spencer grinded his teeth and turned away from you again. You saw the way his jaw squared and tensed and his nostrils flared with heavy breaths. 

“Just say what you’re thinking.” You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t bite your tongue around me, Spencer.” 

His jaw tightened and he slowly turned back to face you and his eyes were suddenly dark, practically black. 

“Trust me when I say,” he pushed himself up from the bench. “If I told you what I was thinking, our friendship would be over.” 

You watched him turn on his heels and storm away, tossing his half empty coffee in a trash can on his way. 

You chewed on your lip, thinking better of going after him. 

Sometimes with Spencer, it was better to just let him work through his emotions on his own. If you went after him, the two of you would fight and you’d done enough of that lately with Spencer. 

You finished your coffee on the bench before collecting up your things and grabbing a cab home as your ride had left you stranded. 

He’d cool down eventually, he always did. You just had to wait it out.

***

75 Days until the Wedding

If Spencer hadn’t already been sure he was in love with you, he most certainly would have been now.

It was a moment he would never forget for the rest of his life even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory. 

The second you stepped out of that dressing room, a slightly bashful look on your face as you chewed on your lip, the rest of the world slipped away.

The sounds of your bridesmaids chattering between glasses of champagne filtered out to silence. They disappeared from his vision, replaced only by you. 

You and the wedding dress adorned on your body were the only things in existence that mattered to Spencer. 

He was honed in on you like you were the only person in the world. To him, at that moment, you were. 

You looked like a princess. Like a fallen angel come to earth to show Spencer his true purpose in life. 

You were the sun and all the stars in the sky. You were a goddess. 

And Spencer knew without a shadow of uncertainty that you were the love of his life. 

The dress was ivory in colour, short sleeved and lacy all across the bodice. It fit you like a glove, as if it had been hand stitched just for you. It hugged your glorious curves and the long, mermaid train draped behind you. 

You started heading down through the shop but in his mind you were walking down the aisle to him. The displays of dresses on either side of you became people lining your path towards your soon to be husband. 

He stood up from the couch he’d been occupying, imagining himself in his smartest tux, beaming from ear to ear as the most beautiful woman in the world headed his way, to become his wife. 

Tears flooded his vision the closer you got. You floated towards him as though you were walking on air, like the ethereal being you were. 

His heart constricted in his chest and his stomach swarmed with butterflies as he reached for your hands. 

You let him take them and smiled brightly back at him. Your own eyes swam with tears and you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth. 

I do, I do. A thousand times I do, he told you subconsciously but said nothing out loud. 

He imagined sliding a ring on your finger as you recited your vows to one another. He could hear a voice pronouncing you husband and wife.

I do. I do. I do. 

He would draw you into a kiss as you were declared Doctor and Mrs Reid. Faint cheers erupted in his mind and confetti hailed down around you. 

You were the one. You were his one, not Antonio’s. This dress deserved to be worn when you married him. 

Love didn’t even begin to describe how he felt about you. There were simply no words to accurately depict the way Spencer’s heart ached for you. Love wasn’t enough. This feeling had no definition. 

Spencer wanted to relish in it forever. He wanted the two of you to stay like this, trapped in this perfect little bubble and pretend for as long as he could that it was him you were marrying. 

But bubbles were so easy to pop. 

“This is the one, right?” You sniffed back your tears, giving Spencer’s hands a squeeze. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, suddenly aware that Melody, Tahani, Eliza and the shop assistant were all staring at the both of you. 

“Uh…it’s…beautiful.” He snatched his hands from yours and stuffed them in his pockets, taking a few steps back. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N!” Tahani squealed, quickly spinning you to face her and the other girls so they could get a better look.

Spencer shrunk away and sat back on the couch while the girls cooed over how amazing you looked. 

A tear crept from his eye that he was quick to wipe away. But when he glanced up you were looking over your shoulder right at him. 

And if he didn’t know any better, he’d think he gave the game away, because the look you were giving him was almost as sad as he felt. 

***

57 Days until the Wedding

“Please, tell me again why you’re doing this.” Luke groaned, looking at the display over Spencer’s shoulder. 

“Because I love her and I want to marry her.” Spencer replied without turning around. “I’m swaying towards something more vintage. What do you think?” 

“I think you’ve lost your mind.” Luke rolled his eyes. 

Spencer straightened up from where he’d been leaning over the counter and looked at the aging jeweller. 

“Could you give us a moment, please?” Spencer politely smiled at the man who was quick to slot the trays of rings back into the glass cabinet and lock it behind him before taking his leave. 

As if Spencer looked like the kind of man to rob a jewellery store. 

“Voice your opinions.” Spencer turned to Luke once the man was out of ear shot. “Once and only once. Get it out of your system and then please help me.” 

Luke huffed out a breath, stepping a little closer to Spencer. 

“You’re buying a ring.” 

“I am.” Spencer nodded. “Are we just stating facts now or…?”

“She’s already engaged, man.” Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re buying a ring for a woman who is going to be married in less than two months.” 

“You’re the one that told me to convince her not to marry that guy and to marry me instead.” Spencer folded his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah, but I think you’re jumping the gun a little here, bud.” Luke sighed. “If you don’t manage to get her to call off this wedding, you’re going to be out of pocket thousands of dollars with a ring you can’t do anything with.” 

Spencer let his arms fall back to his sides and let out a heavy breath. 

“We had this…moment.” He pulled a face at how pathetic that sounded when he said it out loud. 

Luke raised an eyebrow at him.

“A moment?”

“Yes.”

“Define a moment.”

Spencer sighed loudly, almost instantly wishing he hadn’t mentioned it. 

“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head but he knew Luke wouldn’t drop it. 

“It does matter. Tell me.” Luke softened. 

Spencer yet again sighed and ran his fingers through his messy locks. 

“It was when I went dress shopping with her. She walked out in that dress and I…I fucking forgot how to breathe, Luke. And she walked straight to me and she looked at me like I was the only person in the whole world. I swear she felt for me what I feel for her. I’m sure she was trying to tell me with her eyes that it’s me she wants to marry.” He chewed on his lip, knowing how utterly ridiculous it sounded. 

Luke’s facial expression told him just how stupid it did sound.

“Is it possible,” Luke stepped a little closer to him. “That it was all in your head?” 

“Of course it’s possible!” Spencer huffed. “I’m losing my mind here, Luke! I have never felt like this before. I’m a fucking mess. But if there is even the tiniest possibility I didn’t make it up and she does feel the same about me, I want to be prepared. So I am buying a ring today and you can either help me or leave.” 

Luke subtly rolled his eyes with a small sigh before nodding his head. 

“I want to help.” He grumbled slightly. “I just don’t want to see this blow up in your face is all.”

Spencer ignored him, looking over towards the jeweller on the other side of the store and giving him a nod. 

When he returned, he gave a Spencer slightly frustrated look that said buy something or stop wasting my time. 

Spencer puffed out his chest, looked down at the display case and jabbed his finger at one ring in particular. 

It was a white gold Art Deco style ring with a modestly sized diamond set in the middle with a slightly smaller sapphire nestled either side of it. The shoulders were engraved with intricate patterns carved in the metal. 

It was simple and elegant. It was beautiful with a slight vintage flare. 

It was perfect. 

“This one. This is the one.” He spoke with fierce determination and a nod of his head. 

“Very good choice, sir.” The man smiled wryly, fishing his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the case again. 

Spencer’s stomach coiled in excitement. He would defy anyone to say no to that ring. 

Now he just had to decide how he was going to ask you and when. And he’d hope and he’d pray that he was the man you’d choose. Because he simply couldn’t imagine his life without you in it.

***

14 Days until the Wedding

Spencer had been carrying the ring around in his pocket everywhere he went, afraid to let it out of his sight. 

He was also afraid you would find it and he wasn’t prepared to give it to you yet, or to lie about why he had it. 

Two weeks before the wedding he found himself on a flight to Rome with you and the other bridesmaids, your parents and Antonio and his groomsmen. 

He didn’t want to spend the next two weeks in one of the romantic cities in the world with you and him. But he also needed to spend as much time with you as possible as time was running out. 

He found himself sitting with you and Antonio, Antonio by the window and him by the aisle, with you sandwiched in between. 

It was late and most everyone on the flight was asleep apart from the two of you. You were reading a book and Spencer was just watching you as you did so. 

He was mesmerised by you. The way your brows creased when you were confused by something you’d read, the way your lips twitched at the corner when you found something funny. The way you wet the pad of your thumb on your tongue to turn the page and the way you sometimes flicked back a few pages as if to clarify something. 

You absolutely fascinated him. Even your simple micro expressions most other people wouldn’t notice were riveting to him. He could be content watching you all day. 

After a little while you closed your book and shuffled in your seat when you turned to face him. He’d been so wrapped up in you he didn’t have a chance to turn away and pretend he hadn’t been staring at you. 

“Do I have something on my face?” You spoke in hushed tones so as not to disturb anyone.

“What? No.” He frowned. 

“Then why are you staring at me?” Your lip curled into a smirk. 

“I…can’t sleep.” He shook his head. “And I didn’t want to read.” 

“You didn’t want to read?” Your eyebrows shot up. “It must be a cold day in hell.” 

Spencer chuckled, trying to stretch his legs but instead bashed his knees on the seat in front of him and groaned. He was too tall for commercial planes. 

“Satan himself is knitting wool sweaters.” He smirked as a long forgotten memory came to his mind. 

You narrowed your eyes on him briefly as if you were remembering the same thing but you quickly shook it off. 

“Now that I’d like to see.” You laughed, scrutinising Spencer slightly. “You’re not getting laid, are you?” 

“Excuse me?” His eyes widened in shock at the sudden change in topic. 

“Sorry, I’ve just noticed you’ve been a bit…on edge recently. You’re more fidgety than normal. And usually it’s obvious when you’ve gotten laid because you’re always really smug after. I don’t remember the last time I saw you smug.” You shrugged. 

You really could be a profiler, he thought. Or maybe it was only because you’d known him so long that you were able to read him so well. 

“It has been…a while.” He agreed, drumming his fingers on his thigh. 

“Something wrong? In ten years I’ve never known you go through a drought.” You nudged him playfully in the arm. 

“I’m just…I don’t know.” He sighed. “Maybe I’m tired of it, you know? Different women all the time, no strings attached sex. Maybe I only want one woman.” He looked into your eyes, trying to communicate what he was thinking without actually saying it.

And just like in the dress shop, he was sure you knew exactly what he was trying to say. There was a brief moment of understanding that passed between the two of you on that quiet plane as you flew at thirty thousand feet. 

For a second he thought you knew what he meant. He saw a look fleetingly wash over you as if registering what he was trying to say.

But as soon as it came, it was gone again. And suddenly you started to laugh. 

“Oh wow, you almost got there for a second, Spence.” You chuckled, slapping his shoulder. “Spencer Reid with one woman? Man, that’s funny. Hell really would freeze over.” 

Spencer forced himself to laugh along with you although he felt like doing anything but. You were never going to take him seriously. He couldn’t undo ten years of behaviour in a matter of months. 

He didn’t know who he was trying to kid. 

The ring felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket as he felt his heart breaking in his chest. 

“Yeah, I almost had you for a moment.” He looked down into his lap so you wouldn’t see the sadness in his eyes. “I just…I guess I’m bored of DC women.” 

“Probably because you’ve slept with them all.” You rolled your eyes. “Rome will be like a whole new pool of beautiful women for you. You’ll be back in the game in no time.”

He almost told you that the only beautiful woman he wanted in Rome was the one sat right next to him. Almost. He might even have said it if it wasn’t for the fact someone else spoke up. 

“As long as it isn’t any of my sisters.” Antonio stifled a yawn. “Stay away from them.” 

Spencer looked over your head at him wondering how much of that conversation he might have heard. 

Judging by the look in his face he’d not only heard enough but he’d seen the look on Spencer’s face that you’d missed. 

Your fiancé knew he had feelings for you, he was sure of it. Spencer just hoped Antonio would be gentlemanly enough not to mention it. 

***

“You don’t get to do this.” 

One minute Spencer had been about to slot his key into the lock of his hotel room and the next, Antonio was grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. 

Spencer dropped his duffel bag on the floor and pulled a face. 

“Do what?” He played dumb, which was really hard when he was anything but. 

“You know exactly what I mean. You had ten years to tell her how you felt! You had all the time in the world and you wasted it. So you do not get to decide you want her when we’re getting married in two weeks.” Antonio squared his shoulders and straightened his back. 

He was around Spencer’s height but much broader and muscular than him which made him seem taller somehow.

Spencer mirrored him but didn’t feel at all intimidating. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s my best friend. I don’t have feelings for her.” He folded his arms over his chest. 

“Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Uh…is that a trick question?” 

“I’m not blind, Spencer. I see the way you look at her and you need to back off. She’s marrying me. She loves me. Get over it.” Antonio spat. 

“She doesn’t give you the doggy bowl look.” Spencer muttered under his breath. 

“What?” 

“I have a theory.” Spencer smirked at you as he went to reach for the door handle.

You pulled a face, trying to decide if you were going to take the bait. You did. 

“Oh, Casanova has a theory?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Yes.” His smirk grew. “It’s called the Doggy Bowl Theory.” 

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest at his vague nature. 

“Explain.” 

He was suddenly crossing the room back towards you, his smirk so high it hit his hairline. 

“It’s the look a dog gets right before you put down their bowl. When a woman has that look, it means they're attracted to you.” He looked smugly at you. 

“And you’re telling me this, because?” You huffed a little. 

“Because it’s the look you’ve been giving me since I got into your bed.” 

“Nothing.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “Are we done here?” 

“Stay away from her. You missed your chance.” Antonio spat and with that he turned on his heels and marched down the corridor, leaving Spencer alone again. 

His time was rapidly running out. If he was going to get you to call off this wedding and be with him, he had to do it soon. 

He slotted his hand in his pocket and ran his fingers over the ring box. 

Was it possible Antonio was right? Maybe he had missed his chance. Maybe it was time for Spencer to admit defeat and let you be happy with Antonio.

Or maybe it was just time to up the ante. 

***

12 Days until the Wedding

Spencer didn’t see much of you for the first two days in Rome due to you being busy with wedding prep and dealing with both yours and Antonio’s families.

He spent the time exploring a little and you weren’t wrong about Rome being full of deliriously attractive women. 

Honestly, it was like dangling a carrot in front of a starving donkey. And Spencer was utterly famished. 

This had to be the longest he’d gone without sex since his lost his virginity. He was practically climbing the walls, he was so horny and all the gorgeous Italian women were certainly not making that any easier on him.

But Spencer had vowed to himself since he realised his feelings for you that he would not sleep with another woman. You were the person he really wanted. Anyone else would just be a consolation prize. 

But right now, a consolation prize had never sounded so good. 

He had to remain strong. He couldn’t give into his urges no matter how desperately he wanted to. And so over the course of those two days, Spencer spent an unreasonable amount of time masturbating.

On the first day after his run in with Antonio, he’d gotten thinking about the first night he met you and how he would have given anything to fuck you that night.

So while he was showering the smell of the flight off himself, he masturbated.

He’d gone for a walk and found himself in a coffee shop where an unnecessarily beautiful woman kept making eyes at him across the cafe. So he’d jerked off in the bathroom. 

Then he’d gone for a bite to eat after a walk around the Colosseum and his waitress had just been begging to be fucked. Her short skirt and low cut blouse left him reeling so once again he’d locked himself in the bathroom and masturbated. 

That night he’d gone for drinks with your bridesmaids and Antonio’s groomsmen and for whatever reason Melody had been flirting with him like nobody’s business. Her previously frosty demeanour towards him had turned sultry with a few drinks. 

And instead of taking her back to his room and fucking her, he once again masturbated. 

The second day he stayed in his room, thinking without outside stimuli, he couldn’t possibly get so worked up. 

He was wrong. 

It only left more time for him to think about you. 

He played over all the scenarios in his head over the years that could have led to the two of you falling into bed together. 

There had been more than a few occasions when things had heated up between the two of you, only for you to push him away at the last minute. 

The night of the Halloween party when you’d first met, he could have gotten you into bed if only he’d tried harder. 

The following year after a few too many drinks at Garcia’s holiday party, he’d teased you under the mistletoe, and almost had you on his hook.

“Stop it.” You batted his hand away, trying to suppress your giggle. 

“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.” He shrugged, raising his arm over your head again.

“Stop it!” You smacked his arm and this time the laugh erupted from your lips. “Spencer, I mean it!”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smirked. 

You glanced upwards and Spencer’s eyes followed to the piece of mistletoe he was dangling from his fingers over your head. 

“Oh wow, how did that get there?” He joked. 

“Put it away.” Your eyes danced with amusement. 

“Can’t.” He shrugged again. “Holiday rules dictate that if you find yourself standing under mistletoe with someone…”

“I am not going to kiss you.” The playful glint in your eyes grew.

“How about I kiss you?” He stepped a little closer, daring to place his free hand on your hip. 

“Spencer…” you trailed off, not sure where you were going with that particular sentiment. 

“It’s holiday law, Y/N. I don’t make the rules.” 

“How many women have you actually gotten into bed with this play?” 

“You’d be surprised.” He chuckled lightly. “It only has a very specific window of time when it works though.”

“December I can only assume?” 

His hand was still on your hip and you hated how nice it felt. 

“Precisely.” He stepped even closer. “So we’re under the mistletoe and like I say, holiday rules dictate-“

“Oh for the love of god just kiss me already!” You surprised him when you blurted that out. 

And Spencer didn’t need to be told twice. 

He leaned in close, moving his hand from your hip to your cheek and cupping your face gently. 

But before he could so much as brush his lips against yours, Garcia appeared out of nowhere, completely ruining the moment. 

“Ohh is that mistletoe?” She drunkenly chirruped before snatching it from his hand. “Thanks boy wonder! Now where is my chocolate thunder?” 

The mood had been ruined after that and you’d avoided Spencer for the rest of the evening. 

Oftentimes when the two of you were drunk you would become flirty with him and there were more moments than Spencer could count where something had almost happened between the two of you. 

Almost.

And he played through every single one of them on a loop while he spent the day in his room. And he masturbated more times than he could count. 

He eventually fell asleep after one too many orgasms, feeling nowhere near as satisfied as he would have liked. 

***

The following day he couldn’t even think about masturbating. He’d well and truly exhausted himself the last two days but at least he wasn’t horny anymore. 

At least he wasn’t, until he saw you. 

The hotel you were all staying in was the same place you would be getting married in twelve days time and set just on the outskirts of the city with its own vineyard and winery on site. 

Spencer slept most of the morning and eventually surfaced from his room in the middle of the afternoon. 

He found you outside at one of the tables on the patio area, alone, with your head in a book. 

You wore a lilac coloured, floor length sundress, with little spaghetti straps and low cut bodice. 

The second he stepped outside his eyes couldn’t help but land on your immaculate cleavage and within an instant he was turned on again. 

How was that even possible? 

He took a few deep breaths, adjusting his slacks as he walked over towards you. 

Sensing his presence you glanced up from your book and smiled at him.

“Hey stranger,” he smiled back as he reached you. 

“Hey, sorry I’ve been MIA. It’s been a crazy few days.” You pushed your chair back and stood up. “We’ve been house hunting.” 

Spencer’s heart plummeted to his stomach at the thought of you looking for houses in a city that was almost four and a half thousand miles away from DC. And with another man no less.

“Sounds fun.” He nodded, trying to hide the disappointment from his face. “Are you busy now?”

“Nope, I’ve got some free time.” You smiled. “What did you have in mind?”

You and me in my room with no clothes on. 

Or you and me with no clothes on, over this table right here.

Or you and me just about anywhere with no clothes on. 

“Wanna take a walk? I haven’t checked out the vineyard yet.” He said instead of any of the things that were floating around his head. 

“Sure.” You nodded, tucking your book inside your purse and slinging it over your shoulder. 

You fell into step together, heading down the bank at the side of the hotel towards the vineyard beyond. 

It was a warm day and Spencer wished he’d had the forethought to pack anything other than pants and shirts, as sweat gathered in his armpits and on his brow. 

You were both silent as you strolled, Spencer was preoccupied with his own thoughts. This was probably the only time he was likely to get you alone and most likely the only chance he would have to tell you how he felt before it was too late. 

He just had to get his words in order, but they were a jumble in his nervous brain. He slid his hands in his pockets and toyed with the ring box as he tried to formulate a sentence. 

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, watching the way his brows scrunched up. 

“What are you thinking about?” You startled him a little when you spoke. 

“Huh?” He looked over at you in surprise. 

“I can practically see the cogs turning in your head. What’s on your mind?” 

“I uh…” he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Do you remember the first time we went to Garcia’s holiday party together?” 

“Vaguely?” You frowned slightly. 

Spencer slowed his pace until he came to a stop and you did the same. You looked at him curiously. 

“Mistletoe.” He smiled wryly at you. 

“Ah.” You laughed slightly nervously. “How could I forget? You were practically begging me to kiss you.” 

“I don’t beg.” He scoffed, fingers still brushing over the ring box. 

“Not how I remember it. Oh please Y/N I have mistletoe you have to kiss me it’s a holiday rule.” You impersonated him. 

“I sound nothing like that.” He pulled a face. 

“You sound exactly like that.” You teased him. “Why are you thinking about a holiday party from nine years ago?” 

Because I wanted to kiss you then and I want to kiss you now. Because I’ve been so stupid all these years. Because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. 

“No reason.” He shrugged. 

“Liar.” 

Spencer exhaled, cupping the box in his hand. It was now or never. Do or die. It was time to come clean about his feelings. 

“Fine, you really want to know the truth?” He stepped closer to you and you nodded. “The truth is that I am utterly and completely in l-“ 

“Y/N there you are!” Eliza interrupted him, suddenly heading your way with Tahani and Melody in tow. 

Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes. Their timing couldn’t have been worse. Just as he’d finally worked up the nerve to tell you how he felt. 

“What’s going on?” You eyed the girls up. 

“We’re going out! It’s your bachelorette party!” Melody squealed, forcing a bright pink sash into your hands. 

You laughed as you looked at the gold words of Bride-To-Be emblazoned on the sash. 

“Right now?” You slipped it over your head and Spencer took a few steps back, feeling like a spare part.

“Right now!” Tahani grabbed your hand. “Come on both of you, we’ve got a schedule to keep.” 

“Can we just have a minute?” You pulled your hand free of Tahani’s. “Spencer and I were just…”

You looked at him and he was sure you knew exactly what he’d been about to say before you were interrupted. 

It felt like you were silently begging him to finish his sentence. Did you want to hear him say it? Would you leave Antonio if he did? Did Spencer want to be the kind of man that would try and break up a soon to be married couple?

Antonio had been right, as much as Spencer hated to admit it. He’d had ten years to realise he had feelings for you and he’d missed his chance. 

You were happy with Antonio, probably happier than he’d ever seen you. He didn’t want to ruin that. He wanted you to be happy above all else. 

All four of you were staring at him, waiting for him to speak. He plastered on a smile, shaking his head a little.

“Let’s go, we’ll talk later. It wasn’t important anyway.” He knew you didn’t believe that, but you nodded all the same. 

He had to let you go. He had to let you get married and be happy with Antonio. 

Even at the expense of his own happiness. 

***

Another quarter landed in the bucket, jingling against the other coins at the bottom. You smiled a little shyly as the stranger planted a kiss on your cheek and your friends cheered. 

You’d been against the idea of it to begin with. Selling cheek kisses for quarters seemed a little demeaning but your friends had all insisted it was all part of the bachelorette party fun. 

After a few cocktails, you started seeing the funny side and now had a bucket full of quarters and half the men in the bar's lips had brushed against your cheek. 

You found Spencer sitting alone, swirling his whiskey around in his glass. You slipped in the booth beside him, placing the bucket on the table and hearing the coins clank again. 

“Someone’s popular.” He nodded towards the bucket. 

“What can I say? Italian men seem to love me.” You giggled. 

“Can’t say I blame them.” He gave you a soft smile but there was a look in his eyes you couldn’t place. 

“Well there’s one American man who has not put a quarter in my bucket.” You tried to ignore the look. “Cough it up Doc.” 

Spencer chuckled slightly, reaching into his jacket pocket for his wallet and retrieving a quarter. He dropped it in the bucket, but never took his eyes off of you. 

“Now what?” 

“Now you give me a kiss.” You turned your head slightly to the side and tapped your index finger on your cheek. 

Spencer felt his breath catch in his throat. He wanted nothing more than to grab you and turn you back to face him so he could crash his lips against yours. 

But if this was the closest he got to that, he’d take it. 

He took a few breaths before edging closer, catching the scent of your lavender shampoo and your perfume as he got closer. 

He felt heady from your smell as he cautiously pressed his lips against your flesh, closer to the corner of your mouth than your cheek. 

Your skin was soft beneath his lips and he swore he felt a spark of electricity pass between you. 

Something animalistic took over in Spencer and he was powerless to stop his next move. 

He took hold of your jaw, cupping it in his hand and turned you to face him. Your eyes met his and an understanding was shared. You wanted him to kiss you. And he wasn’t going to disappoint. 

You both closed your eyes simultaneously and you felt Spencer’s breath fan across your face. Goosebumps flared on your skin at the small gesture and your stomach coiled into knots. 

You had never wanted someone to kiss you more in your life. You felt as though you needed Spencer to kiss you, like if he didn’t you might crumble into a million pieces. 

His lips brushed cautiously over the corner of your mouth and you couldn’t hold back the small whimper that escaped your mouth at the contact. 

You had been in love with this man for longer than you could even fathom. Just because you were marrying Antonio, it had never changed that fact. 

You’d spent so many years wondering what it might be like to kiss him and now you were on the precipice of finding out. And you were ready to dive over the edge even if Spencer didn’t intend on catching you. 

His hand moved from your jaw to the back of your neck and then his lips suddenly slammed against yours with bruising force, causing you to gasp. 

Spencer tried to slow himself down, take his time, in case this was the only chance he ever got to kiss you. But his hunger for you took over and he just couldn’t help himself. 

When you gasped, your lips parted enough for him to plunge his tongue inside of your mouth and deepen the kiss. In response you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours.

You tasted like the sugary cocktails you’d been drinking and a slight hint of mint. It was intoxicating, otherworldly. Spencer didn’t have any words to describe it. 

Fireworks erupted behind his closed lids and his heart felt as though it was soaring. It wasn’t awkward or messy like first kisses usually were. It was as though the two of you had been doing this your entire lives. 

You moved together in perfect rhythm and it was barely any time at all before Spencer felt himself growing hard in his pants. 

Little whines and moans were leaving your lips and you held onto him for dear life, afraid you might actually float away. 

The kiss was passionate and needy, two people who had fought their attraction to one another for too long and couldn’t resist anymore. It was desperate and hungry and you wanted Spencer to throw you across the table and fuck you right in the middle of the bar. 

By the time you both dared to pull back you were panting heavily, lips slightly swollen. 

You stared at each other while you fought to catch your breaths, so many unspoken words passing between you. 

But before you could get any actual words out, Spencer was suddenly on his feet, pushing past you out of the booth. 

“I uh…need a drink.” He croaked before he fled.

You stared in his wake, your brain a haze of lust of confusion. 

What the fuck had just happened? 

Spencer had kissed you and then bolted before you’d caught your breath. Was this how he was with his lays? Fuck ‘em and leave ‘em before they can even understand what’s happened? 

Your lungs were on fire and your lips burnt from his kiss. You run your fingers over them, as if you could still feel him there. 

Could you really get married to another man after a kiss like that? There was no way a kiss that magical could be just a kiss. You practically tasted Spencer’s feelings in that kiss. No one was just that good.

There had been so many moments over the past few months where you’d thought Spencer was looking at you differently. There had been moments between you when you were sure he had some kind of feelings for you. 

You’d ignored them up until now, but all those moments combined with that kiss had to mean something. 

And you needed to know once and for all. You needed to know what Spencer was feeling, what it all meant. 

You needed to know if you were marrying the right man. Because right now, you weren’t so sure you were. 

***

A few hours later you’d pulled at all your courage as you stood outside Spencer’s room. This conversation was inevitably going to go one of two ways. 

Either you’d been imagining everything in your desperation for Spencer to love you. You would confront him and he’d tell you he had no idea what you were talking about and you’d never be able to look him in the eyes again, thus ruining ten years of friendship. 

Or he would tell you that you weren’t imagining it, he did have feelings for you and you would be left to decide between Spencer and Antonio. 

Either way someone was going to get hurt. 

You exhaled heavily, hoping to get rid of all your nerves before you knocked on the door. 

“Oh shit.” 

You heard Spencer’s voice carry through the door.

“Fuck. Just…one second!” 

He sounded out of breath and you frowned to yourself. You heard some scrabbling about from the other side of the door for a few seconds before it suddenly flew open. 

Spencer’s hair was all over the place and his face was slightly flushed. He wore nothing but a towel slung low around his waist but you noticed instantly his skin wasn’t wet from a shower. 

“Oh…uh…hi Y/N.” He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was uh…just about to shower.” 

The bright red, glowing hickey on his neck was the first thing that made your stomach turn. But when you heard the woman’s voice from inside the room, you were about ready to hurl. 

“Spence, come back to bed!” The voice called and your blood ran cold.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’d grown up hearing that voice damn near every day 

You saw Spencer’s face fall in an instant and you stumbled backwards a little. 

“Y/N…I can explain.” He choked out but you were shaking your head. 

“What’s to explain?” Your voice cracked as you spoke. “Have fun with Melody.” 

“Y/N, it’s not…I mean it is what it looks like but I-I…please let me explain!” He begged but you kept backing away from him. 

“I’ve gotta go.” You spun away from him and you ran in the opposite direction.

Your legs were shaking so violently you didn’t know how you didn’t collapse. Spencer continued calling after you and you heard him padding down the hall behind you. 

You reached your room and managed to get inside and slam the door before he reached you. The second you were inside your legs gave way and you fell to the floor in front of the door and the floodgates holding back your tears broke. 

How could you have thought for even a second that Spencer had feelings for you? Were you really so naive to think a playboy like Spencer could ever have feelings for anyone? 

You allowed yourself to get sucked into a fantasy. For years all you’d wanted was for Spencer to love you and after one stupid kiss you’d let yourself get your hopes up. 

Spencer didn’t love you. Spencer wasn’t capable of love. A leopard can’t change its spots anymore than a lothario like Spencer can. 

You pulled your legs close to your body, wrapping your arms around them and resting your chin on your knees while you sobbed. 

It was only a matter of seconds before there was a frantic knocking on the door behind you. 

“Y/N, please talk to me.” Spencer spoke through the wood. 

You quieted your sobs but Spencer could hear your breathing. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m a complete fucking idiot. She threw herself at me and I’m…I’m weak ok? I’m pathetic and I’m weak. I didn’t sleep with her though. We…we made out. She took my clothes off. I was…I was about to kick her out I swear. I promise you, I was not going to sleep with her.” He felt foolish talking through the door whilst standing in the corridor of a nice hotel in only a towel. 

But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going anywhere until you talked to him. 

“Why did you even come to my room? Please, just answer me that.” He begged, not expecting an answer. 

There was a long stretch of silence and Spencer didn’t think you were going to speak. 

He heard you exhale loudly and then you finally spoke, so quietly he barely heard you. 

“I wanted to talk.” You sniffed. “About…about that kiss.” 

Spencer closed his eyes as he felt his tears gathering, pressing his palms against the door.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. The words came spilling out his mouth before he had a chance to stop them. 

“Please.” He croaked. “Please don’t marry him.” 

“S-Spencer.” You choked on another sob. “It’s been ten years…”

“Don’t marry him.” He repeated, pressing his palms harder against the door as though he might be able to push his way through. 

“All these years, Spencer. And you’re doing this now?” Your voice was haggard, punctuated with sobs.

“I know. I know.” Tears escaped his eyes as he opened them again, silently rolling down his cheeks. “Let me in. Please let me in.”

“No.” You hugged your legs closer to your chest. “You’re only doing this because you’re afraid of losing me. You don’t have feelings for me Spencer. You’re just scared.” 

“That’s not true.”

“It is Spencer.” You chewed on your lip. “I need someone who’s going to be there for me, no matter what. Someone who actually loves me. Someone I can trust. I’m marrying Antonio, Spencer.”

Spencer choked on a loud sob of his own, resting his forehead against the cool wood door. 

“I understand.” He croaked. “I hope you’re happy together, I really do. But I can’t watch you marry him. I can’t stand there and pretend that I don’t think you’re doing the wrong thing. I can’t be a part of this.” 

He took a step back from the door, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. 

“Goodbye Y/N.” He whispered. 

You felt your heart shattering into pieces at the thought of Spencer walking away. Suddenly, without meaning to, you were up on your feet. 

But when you threw the door open, he was already gone and the hallway was empty. 

Your bottom lip quivered and you closed your eyes as you stepped backwards in the room. 

“Goodbye Spencer.” You muttered, before you closed the door again both physically and metaphorically. 

***

The Wedding Day

When he’d landed back in the states Spencer went straight from the airport to Luke’s apartment. The older man had allowed him to cry on his shoulder between glasses of whiskey while Spencer explained the whole sorry thing. 

And bless him for not once mentioning the ring he’d brought or saying I told you so. 

He stayed with Luke for two days before going back to his own apartment. His bags remained unpacked by the front door for the next few weeks. 

The only thing Spencer had the energy for was to drag himself from the bed to the toilet and back again. The rest of the time he stayed curled up under the sheets, the engagement ring he’d brought taunting him on the pillow. 

He considered going back to work early just for something to occupy his mind but he didn’t have the willpower to leave the apartment. 

His heart was in pieces. He swore he could feel it physically shattering in his chest although logically he knew that wasn’t possible. But this was all such a new and alien feeling to Spencer. 

He’d never been in love before, never had his heart broken. He slept around, kept women at arms length so as to avoid this exact emotion. 

Over the years he’d let his guards slip, he’d let you get close and never realised the ramifications that would have. 

But now he was feeling the full force of it. He couldn’t ignore it, or push past it like he did every other trauma he’d suffered in his life. This was begging to be felt, demanding to be noticed. 

He’d lost the love of his life and his best friend in one fell swoop. You were marrying Antonio and staying in Rome. And Spencer had to try and reconcile the fact he would surely never see you again.

Over the course of almost two weeks there were a lot of knocks on his front door. 

It started with Luke checking in on him daily. And then Garcia bringing over baked goods which were now going stale in the kitchen. 

JJ and Emily came by as did Tara and Matt and Rossi at various points. 

The knocking on the door got irritating and eventually he’d just left the thing unlocked to save getting up. 

So when after nearly two weeks of this, there was another knock on the door, he groaned with a roll of his eyes. 

“It’s open!” He grumbled from his position on the couch. 

His bedsheets had started to smell so he’d spent the last few days curled up on the couch instead. The smell however had followed him, and it took him longer than it should have to realise it was coming from him. 

He was grumpier than ever today, on the day that you were getting married. He couldn’t stop picturing you walking down the aisle in that dress and exchanging vows with Antonio, becoming his wife. 

He really didn’t have the patience for whoever was at his door right now. 

The knock came again as he tightened his old robe around his body. 

“It’s open! Jeez.” He called louder this time. 

But once again there was another knock. 

He huffed out a breath and angrily pushed himself up off the couch before storming towards the door. 

“For fuck sake, I said it’s o-“ he threw the door open and his words died in his throat when he saw who was standing there on his doorstep. 

He stared blankly at you, as though he had no idea who you were. His expression was completely unreadable. 

You scuffed the toe of your shoe on the wooden floor, chewing on your lip. 

“Uh…hey?” You offered him a small shrug. 

He continued to stare at you, blinking a few times to try and clear the fog surrounding his brain. 

“W-why…what are y-you…why?” His voice was hoarse and croaky where he hadn’t spoken in what felt like days. 

“You left.” You chewed harder on your lip to stem the tears gathering in your eyes. “You just left.” 

“I told you, I couldn’t watch you marry him. Why are you here? Why are you standing in my doorway on your wedding day?” His heart ached for you. You were so close he could reach out and touch you. 

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. 

You sighed and shrugged again. 

“Because I love you.” You replied like it was the simplest answer in the world. “So here I am standing in your doorway. I’ve always been standing in your doorway.” 

Spencer felt his own tears flood his vision. He was desperate to touch you, to hold you. But he refrained. 

“Why isn’t your husband with you?” He choked out, bitterness dripping from tongue. 

You sniffed back your tears and gave him a shaky smile. 

“I uh…I was kinda hoping he was.” You fished in your back pocket and before Spencer knew what was happening, you were dropping to one knee in front of him. 

You pulled out a giant red ring pop, the kind Spencer hadn’t seen since he was a child and held it towards him. 

“It was the best I could do on short notice. It’s the only kind of ring you’re going to find at an airport.” You chuckled lightly, a little nervously. “Spencer, I have loved you for ten long years. You are the only man for me. And if you meant what you said in Rome, if you really meant it-“

“Of course I meant it.” He cut you off, gripping you by your wrists and pulling you back to your feet. “But this isn’t right. Just…just…one second.”

You frowned as he turned away from you and ran back inside his apartment. You stood there in confusion, still holding the ring pop. 

You took a few tentative steps inside the apartment as he disappeared inside his bedroom. 

You watched with a frown as he fumbled picking something up off his bed and soon he was barrelling back towards you, faster than you’d ever seen him move. 

Your eyes landed on the black velvet ring box in his open palm and you gasped, heart skipping a beat. 

A large smile was plastered on Spencer’s face as he lowered himself to one knee in front of you. 

“I meant it, Y/N. I meant all of it. I’ve been carrying this ring around for months hoping to find the words to tell you that I am utterly and inconceivably in love with you and that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He opened the box and plucked the ring from its little cushion nested inside and took hold of your hand. 

At some point your tears had sprung free and were rolling down your cheeks. 

“Y/N, will you marry me?” 

“Yes. Yes! Of course I’ll marry you, Spence!” You nodded frantically as he slipped the ring on your finger. 

You helped him to his feet and he was quick to pull you into his arms and crash your lips together. Ten years worth of feelings came pouring out in a single kiss. 

Spencer wished he’d realised his feelings for you sooner and hadn’t wasted so much time not being with you, but he knew he’d never waste another second. 

He cupped your face and deepened the kiss, finally feeling like he’d found his rightful place in this world. 

Tomorrow he was taking you to Vegas or Atlantic City or wherever you wanted to go and the two of you would tie the knot. He wasn’t waiting another day to be your husband. 

But tonight as he started leading you through to the bedroom, the only thing on his mind was getting you undressed and finally getting to be with you the way he’d been desperate for since the first time you met. 

He laid you down on the mattress and climbed on top of you, smiling at the perfect woman he was soon to make his wife. 

“There it is.” You smirked up at him, a playful glint in your eyes. 

“What?” He frowned a little.

You reached up and cupped his jaw, feeling his spiky stubble beneath your fingertips.

“The doggy bowl look. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.” 

“I do not have the doggy bowl look.” He scoffed. 

“Oh you totally do.” You laughed. “You’re completely starved, Doctor.” 

He laughed too as he stroked your hair back off your face before bowing his head to kiss you again. 

To think if it hadn't been for one Halloween night and him slipping into bed with the wrong woman, he might never have met you.

Maybe he’d unknowingly left a piece of his heart in your bed that night and you’d kept it all these years.  And because of that you knew his heart inside and out, in ways he wasn’t even sure he did. 

But the one thing he did know, was that his heart beat only for you. It always would. And it probably always had. 

***

Ten Years Ago

You typed your number into the device before handing it back to Spencer. He smiled brightly at you, a smile that caused your stomach to tighten. 

“Thanks.” He pocketed the phone, hovering by the door. “So uh…now what?”

“Now you leave.” You chuckled lightly.

“Are you sure you want me to leave? Because I don’t think you do.” His eyes were heavy and filled with lust and you couldn’t deny it made you hot under the collar. 

But you were not caving. No matter how stupidly attractive he was, you were not falling into bed with him. 

“I’m very sure.” You stood your ground. 

“See I don’t buy it.” He shook his head. 

“You don’t buy that not every woman wants to sleep with you? Trust me you are not that attractive.” You lied, hoping your expression didn’t give away how gorgeous you really thought him. 

“I have a theory.” Spencer smirked at you as he went to reach for the door handle.

You pulled a face, trying to decide if you were going to take the bait. You did. 

“Oh, Casanova has a theory?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Yes.” His smirk grew. “It’s called the Doggy Bowl Look.” 

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest at his vague nature. 

“Explain.” 

He was suddenly crossing the room back towards you, his smirk so high it hit his hairline. 

“It’s the look a dog gets right before you put down their bowl. When a woman has that look, it means they're attracted to you.” He looked smugly at you. 

“And you’re telling me this, because?” You huffed a little. 

“Because it’s the look you’ve been giving me since I got into your bed.” His smugness grew and you wanted to slap the look right off of his beautiful face. 

“You really do think a lot of yourself, don’t you?” You folded your arms. 

“No but you certainly do. I’ll leave now but I am going to call you. And trust me when I say, when you see me in my best suit, not covered in fake blood, and I lay on my charm…” he stepped even closer, hooking his finger under your chin and looking you right in the eyes. “You’ll be begging for me.” 

You swallowed a lump in your throat, almost resorting to begging him now. Your knees were weak and it was a miracle you didn’t fall down. 

But you would not let him have the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on you. 

“It will be a cold day in hell if you ever get me into bed, you cocky son of bitch.” You stepped out of his touch and his hand fell to his side. 

“I’ll tell Satan to get knitting those wool sweaters.” He shot you one last look before turning back towards the door and sauntering to it. “It was an absolute pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” 

“I wish I could say the same.” You scoffed as he opened the door and stepped out into the hall. 

He gave you one last smile, one that felt like it knocked all the air from your lungs, before he was suddenly gone. 

As you fell back to your bed and closed your eyes, you saw Spencer Reid behind your closed lids.

And for whatever reason, you knew your story was far from over. 

Taglist

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[clydesavage-thefox147]

So...I loved the new Asides short. A lot to love actually. But, Now that it is confirmed that Janus is cold blooded...this just makes you realize the hell he goes through with that.

If you're not aware, cold blooded means that one can not regulate their body temperature properly or can't produce their own body heat. So, that means Janus can't.

Reptiles must be kept between 75-80 degrees fahrenheit to be content to the highest 90-92. Anything higher than 92 is too hot. When a snake gets hot, it can get heat stroke like us, however in severe cases, it can cause them to seize and unintentionally kill themselves in the process. Florida is notorious for hot and humid climates, warm and humid is ideal for a snake but anything too heated is deadly.

On the flip side, if a snake gets too cold, below 70 degrees, it will start to enter what is called "Brumation" which is kinda like hibernation but different. During Brumation, a reptile's(or amphibian or fish) body systems will start to slow down resulting in slow moments and lethargy. They do not eat, only drink, seeing as their digestive system will slow or shut down completely. Snakes specifically choose to burrow underground or find confined spaces for any warmth they can find. If it drops below freezing, so 32 or lower, this can cause them to freeze to death. But Brumation is practically like living death, slowing down so much that not all reptiles make it out alive. However, the ones that do, have the benefit of higher fertility, better breeding success and better egg clutches....so I'm guessing Janus would be very hungry and horny after winter XD.

However, cold weather is one of the leading causes of respiratory infection in reptiles. Snakes are known for getting these. Symptoms can include nasal discharge, mouth breathing, wheezing or gargled breath, drooling or frothing at the mouth, vomiting or regurgitation, coughing, sneezing etc. If the drool or froth is not cleaned from the snake's mouth in time, it will cause it to rot off. So, if Janus got COVID, he would be screwed.

So, looking at Roman's gift, it's pretty thoughtful in the sense of "Here so you don't freeze to death, I'm not that sadistic" And Janus was kinda taken back. Like, he is aware of what he goes through and is shocked that Roman even cared to do that bit of research for the gift to get.

He was so taken back that he even felt sorry for being a bit too outlandish even if he was drunk. Which, with him saying he was having an "unhinged jaw"(which further shows he can do that), it means he's more truthful when he's under the influence. So, that means that this "cold blooded" admittance is true. Is Janus ashamed of this to the point he looks upset? Or is it genuine shock from Roman's gift coming from a thoughtful place of consideration?(even if Roman said he did it begrudgingly).

In a past post, I said that Janus could have a lot of interesting and compelling things about his genetic differences that would make for pretty neat moments. I'm glad we're getting more information about the "snake" behind the "snake man" and what he really deals with being this way. But, I feel sorry for him that he has to deal with it on a routine basic. It must be tough but he is self care so, he hopefully does his best. There's so much more yet to be confirmed about him that I hope one day will in some way but even if not, it's still a cool and intriguing thing of how a snake-human hybrid would function.

But so far, it's confirmed he's cold blooded, he sheds and he hisses with drawn out S's. (It was confirmed he sheds in a past Livestream, but he was very embarrassed by it).

Now...onto that alcohol addiction. Snakes can't consume ethanol, it actually burns their mouths and throats. It's so effective against them that it helped in relinquishing them from bites. They also don't like the smell. Like with us humans, snakes can contract liver damage from alcohol. In ancient belief however, snakes drowned in wine and left to ferment in it was beneficial to health or was believed to be. But, rubbing alcohol is deadly toxic to snakes, so much so it can dry them out, penetrating deep beneath the scales. Snakes can get accidentally drunk from eating fermented berries in the wild so, Janus's consumption of wine makes sense, however it's hurtful to him potentially. Alcohol can also be an appetite suppressor which if he drinks it routinely, no wonder we have only seen him eat cake and half a sandwich, which is not healthy enough for him. If his main consumption is wine, that is risk of overdose and drunkorexia. I know snakes can go without eating for a while but still. But, in conclusion, Janus is an unhealthy alcoholic. As much as it's funny seeing him drunk, it's shocking in the fact that he's actively hurting himself in the process if that's the case.

Anyway, I can go on and on about snakes all day but that's a future thing. Thanks to Janus, I know so much possibly useless snake information lol.