#like i immediately recognized the reference to the movie. like. i Knew

[cinema-wasps]

i think one of the things that make me a real oliver fan is that i watched the entirety of ratatoing

[reidmarieprentiss]

Breaking Point

Summary: Spencer has a partner, his partner is not necessarily a great person. You really just want to connect with him, he is your roommate, Penelope's, friend after all. But Spencer just does not seem to like you, can you change that?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: Spencer has a partner, implied bisexual Spencer, non-graphic cheating, emotionally distant partner, controlling partner, Spencer is sassy and kind of mean, mention of Spencer's drug problem, insecurities

Word count: 14.6k

a/n: i know i can treat you better than they cannnnn -- happy one day early post !!!!

main masterlist part two

The evening was typical for you—a night out with the team at one of their usual spots, a lively bar that served as the backdrop for many of their post-case celebrations. You were perched on a high stool at the bar, sipping on a cocktail Penelope, your roommate, had insisted you try, something bright and fruity with just the right amount of sweetness. The music was loud enough to make conversation a bit challenging, but not so much that it drowned everyone out.

You leaned back slightly, your eyes casually scanning the room. Derek was engaged in a playful argument with JJ about some obscure movie reference, and Rossi was deep in conversation with Hotch. Everyone seemed relaxed, their faces lit with the glow of well-deserved downtime.

But then, something caught your eye—a flash of movement at the other end of the bar. Spencer, the quiet and reserved member of the team who had always been somewhat of a mystery to you, was engaged in what looked like a rather intense conversation with someone you didn’t recognize. The contrast between Spencer’s usual timid demeanor and the animated gestures he was making now piqued your curiosity.

You leaned closer to Penelope, who was sitting beside you, tapping away on her phone as usual, her fingers a blur of activity. "Who’s that?" you asked, nodding toward Spencer and the unknown person.

Penelope glanced up from her screen, following your gaze, and immediately sighed, rolling her eyes in a way that suggested this was a scene she had witnessed more times than she cared to count. "That’s Eli," she said, the name laced with a tone that was hard to miss. "Spencer’s partner."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Spencer has a partner?" The revelation blew your mind. You'd known the team for over a year, seen and been seen in all sorts of situations—some more embarrassing than others—and not once had Spencer ever mentioned having a partner. It was like discovering a hidden chapter in a book you thought you knew well.

Penelope gave you a knowing look, her lips pressing together as if she were debating whether or not to continue. You nudged her lightly, urging her on. "What is it? You can’t just leave me hanging."

She sighed again, this time more softly, and leaned in closer so that only you could hear. "It just doesn’t seem like they’re very happy together, you know? They always seem to be arguing about something or other. I don't think I’ve ever seen them have a normal conversation."

You turned your attention back to Spencer and Eli, who were still deep in conversation—if you could even call it that. From where you were sitting, it looked more like Eli was doing most of the talking, their tone sharp, while Spencer listened, his face a mask of confusion and quiet frustration.

"Why does he stay with them if they’re so unhappy?" you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. 

Penelope shrugged, taking a sip of her drink before responding. "Spencer's complicated, you know? I think part of him feels…responsible or something. Like he has to make it work, even if it’s not working."

You nodded, still watching the exchange between Spencer and Eli, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Part of you was shocked that Spencer, someone who always seemed so put-together, was caught up in a relationship that didn’t seem to bring him any joy. And another part of you, the part that had always felt a bit of an inexplicable attachment to him, felt a pang of something else—something almost like protectiveness.

"I never would’ve guessed," you murmured, more to yourself than to Penelope. 

"Yeah, well," Penelope replied, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "There’s a lot about Spencer that’s easy to miss if you’re not looking closely."

As the night wore on, you couldn't help but keep glancing in Spencer's direction, wondering what else you might have missed about him over the past year. The more you thought about it, the more you realized how little you actually knew about the man who had somehow managed to become both a puzzle and an enigma in your life.

—

You’re not sure what brought on this new damn near obsession with Spencer Reid, but ever since you found out about him having a partner, you’ve been thinking about him differently. It was as if knowing he was capable of being in a relationship made you want to be the one who showed him what a healthy one looks like. The thought had wormed its way into your mind and now, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about him in your daily life. 

Whether you were at work, at home, or out with friends, your thoughts always seemed to drift back to Spencer—his quiet demeanor, the way he fiddled with his hands when he was nervous, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about. You found yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to be the one who made him smile, the one who could take away the stress you’d seen him carry.

Weeks passed, and you tried to push these thoughts to the back of your mind, but they always crept back in. So when Penelope proposed a night at Rossi’s, you jumped at the opportunity, hoping that maybe being around him might help you understand why you were feeling this way.

When you arrived at Rossi’s, the place was buzzing with laughter and conversation. Penelope was already engaged in a lively discussion with Derek and JJ, and Rossi was busy pouring drinks for everyone. As you scanned the room, your eyes landed on Spencer, standing off to the side, a drink in hand. He was alone—no Eli in sight.

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you knew it, you were making your way over to him, driven by an urge to finally talk to him alone. Maybe this was your chance to get to know him better, to bridge the gap that had always seemed to exist between you two.

“Hey, Spencer,” you greeted, nudging your elbow gently against his as you walked up next to him.

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of confusion as he looked at you. It was as if he wasn’t quite sure why you had come over.

“How are you?” you asked, trying to sound casual, though your heart was beating a little faster than you’d like to admit.

“Fine, thanks,” he nodded, his gaze drifting away from you almost immediately. “And you?”

“I’m great, thank you!” you answered with a smile, hoping to ease the tension that seemed to hang in the air between you.

But Spencer didn’t reply. Instead, he stood there, clearly feeling awkward, his eyes focused on some distant point in the room. You bit your lip, trying to think of something else to say, something that might spark a real conversation.

“So…I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” you ventured, letting out a small, nervous laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

At that, Spencer stiffened. He finally turned to look at you, his expression hardening in a way that caught you off guard. “Well, you don’t really know me, do you?” he said, his tone colder than you’d ever heard it before.

“What?” you asked, taken aback by his sudden shift in demeanor. The sharpness in his voice sent a jolt through you, making you feel like you’d stepped onto thin ice without realizing it.

But he didn’t stop there. “You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” he continued, his voice carrying an edge of bitterness as he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Why would you be privy to intimate details of my life?”

The words hit you like a slap in the face, and you stood there, stunned and at a loss for words. “Oh—I don’t know, I’m sorry,” you stuttered, your confidence crumbling as you tried to process what had just happened. You had expected many things from this conversation, but this level of hostility wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah, okay,” Spencer muttered, a bitter laugh escaping his lips as he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, violently confused.

You watched him retreat, your mind racing to understand what had just happened. The warmth and excitement you had felt moments ago were now replaced by a cold, sinking feeling in your chest. What had you done wrong? Why had he reacted that way?

As you stood there, the lively chatter and laughter of the party continued around you, but it all felt distant, muffled. All you could think about was Spencer’s harsh words, and the way he had looked at you—like you were a stranger, like you had crossed a line you didn’t even know existed.

“Hey mama, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. You good?” Derek’s deep, familiar voice cut through the fog of your thoughts, grounding you back in the present. 

You blinked a few times, forcing a smile onto your face as you turned to face Derek. “Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, doing your best to sound convincing. “It’s good to see you!”

Derek didn’t seem entirely convinced, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied you, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled back, his usual warmth returning as he pulled you into a quick hug. “Good to see you too, girl. Let’s get you back in the spirit of the night, huh?”

You nodded, grateful for his easy going nature as you allowed yourself to be swept back into the flow of the evening. Derek had a way of making everything feel a little lighter, and as the two of you rejoined the group, you found yourself easing back into the laughter and conversation around you. It wasn’t hard to get caught up in the fun, especially with Penelope’s infectious energy and Rossi’s endless supply of stories.

But no matter how much you tried to focus on the good vibes of the night, there was a nagging thought at the back of your mind—a quiet, persistent echo of your brief and bewildering interaction with Spencer. You couldn’t shake the image of his face, the sudden hardness in his eyes, and the way his tone had shifted so drastically from the Spencer you thought you knew.

You stole a glance across the room, where Spencer was now engaged in a conversation with JJ, his expression relaxed, his laughter genuine. It was as if nothing had happened at all, as if your exchange just moments earlier hadn’t rattled you to your core.

The contrast was jarring, and it left you feeling even more confused. How could he seem so unaffected, so nonchalant, after what had just transpired? It was like the sweet, shy man you’d come to know had been ripped away in an instant, replaced by someone who was colder, more distant, and completely unreadable.

You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done wrong, why such an innocent question had triggered such a reaction from him. It was just one question—one that, in hindsight, seemed harmless. And yet, his response had been anything but.

“Hey, earth to Y/N,” Derek’s voice snapped you back again, this time with a playful nudge. “Where’d you go just now? I was asking if you wanted another drink.”

You blinked, realizing you had zoned out again. “Oh, sorry! Yeah, I could use another one,” you said, offering him another smile. This time, you meant it. Maybe another drink would help you forget the odd tension for a little while, help you push Spencer out of your mind.

—

That night, as the evening began to wind down, you noticed Spencer slipping out quietly after saying his goodbyes to everyone but you. A pang of something—hurt, maybe?—struck you as you watched him head toward the front door, his figure receding into the night. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was just the lingering awkwardness from earlier, nothing more.

But then you noticed something out of place—Spencer had left his satchel behind, the one he always carried with him, filled with books, notes, and who knows what else. Without thinking, you grabbed it and rushed out the door after him, your heart pounding with adrenaline and the hope of another chance to talk.

“Spencer! Wait!” you called out, your voice echoing in the cool night air as you ran down the driveway, the gravel crunching under your feet.

Spencer, already halfway into the passenger seat of the car, paused at the sound of your voice. He looked back over his shoulder, his expression immediately shifting to one of mild annoyance when he realized it was you. For a brief moment, you wondered if he was hoping it would be anyone else but you.

“You left your bag,” you panted, holding it up as you caught up to him.

“Oh,” he replied, his tone flat, his eyes glancing at the bag as if it was the last thing on his mind. “Thanks,” Spencer added, his voice barely above a mumble as he took the satchel from your hands. 

You forced a smile, trying to ignore the awkward tension hanging between you. But just as you were about to wish him a good night, your eyes shifted to the driver’s seat where Eli was sitting, glaring at you with a cold, suspicious gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of their stare made you falter, your words catching in your throat.

“Have a good ni—” you started, but before you could finish, Eli’s hand jerked the car into gear, and the tires screeched against the pavement as they peeled out of the driveway. The door barely had time to close behind Spencer before they were speeding off into the night.

You stood there, breathless and confused, watching the taillights disappear down the road. The cold night air seemed to wrap around you, a stark contrast to the warmth that had filled Rossi’s home just minutes ago.

You couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that had settled deep in your chest. The way Spencer had looked at you, the way Eli had glared, the way the car had sped off as if they couldn’t wait to leave you behind—it all left you feeling more out of sorts than ever.

—

The next time you saw Spencer, it was completely by accident. You were excitedly attending the grand opening of a vintage bookstore that had been on your calendar for months. The store was rumored to have an original copy of Pride and Prejudice, and you were determined to get your hands on it. As you approached the entrance, ready to join the line that had already started forming, a tall, familiar figure caught your eye.

Spencer was standing off to the side, hunched in on himself as he spoke into his phone. His posture was tense, and his voice, though hushed, carried a tone of desperation and frustration that made you slow your steps.

“—you said you would be here! You know how important this is to me…” His voice wavered, and he paused, listening to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Your heart ached as you watched him, his expression filled with hurt and disappointment. His next words were spoken with an urgency that tugged at something deep inside you.

“I went to your comicon, waited all night in line to get a video game for you, and I did that…thing! This morning, remember?”

You couldn’t hear what Eli was saying, but from the look on Spencer’s face, it was clear that whatever it was, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. You could hear the strain in his voice, the way it shook as he tried to hold back his emotions.

“Eli,” Spencer sighed, the sound so full of defeat that it nearly broke your heart. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “I never ask you to do anything…it does matter! It’s not stupid…okay. Yeah. Bye. Love you too.”

As he ended the call, you watched as he put his phone in his pocket, his shoulders slumping as he sniffled, clearly trying to compose himself. The vulnerability in his posture made you want to reach out, to comfort him, to tell him that he deserved so much better than this.

But before he could see you, you quickly made your way past him and into the line, your heart racing. You didn’t want to embarrass him by acknowledging what you had overheard. It felt too private, too raw, and you knew that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t want someone to witness such a moment of weakness.

Little did you know that Spencer had seen you walk by, his heart sinking further as he realized you might have heard his conversation. The idea of you knowing how he couldn’t even get his partner to come to a bookstore—a place that meant so much to him—was mortifying. It was bad enough that Eli had chosen to watch football with their friends instead of joining him, but the thought of you knowing about it only added to his embarrassment.

Spencer fell into line a few people behind you, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of rejection. He wished that the rift between you two didn’t exist, especially on a day like today. The thought of walking through the store with someone, discussing books, sharing little discoveries, was something that would have brought him immense joy. But now, with the awkwardness hanging between you like a thick fog, he knew it wasn’t possible.

As the line moved forward, you tried to focus on the excitement of the bookstore’s opening, but you couldn’t help but steal glances back at Spencer. He looked so alone, so isolated, and it made your chest tighten with an emotion you didn’t quite want to name. The bookstore should have been a place of happiness for him, but all you could see was the shadow of his disappointment.

You had managed to find the original Pride and Prejudice that you wanted, and your heart felt so full it was almost overwhelming. This book meant the world to you, bringing back memories of your grandmother reading it to you when you were sick as a child. The familiar scent of old pages and the sight of the worn, delicate cover brought a lump to your throat, but it was the good kind, the kind of feeling that reminded you of warmth and love.

As you clutched the book to your chest, savoring the moment, a voice came from behind you, pulling you out of your reverie. “Great choice, I can’t believe they have an original.”

You turned, surprised, to see a very attractive stranger standing there. They had strikingly beautiful eyes that seemed to draw you in, making you momentarily forget where you were. “Yeah, it’s my favorite,” you replied with a bright smile. “I’m so glad I was able to get it.”

“Shane,” they offered, extending their hand with an easy, confident smile. “Nice to meet you.”

You took their hand, feeling a pleasant warmth from the gesture. “Y/N,” you said, your smile widening. “Nice to meet you too.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly after that. You and Shane chatted about literature, the excitement of the new bookstore, and your mutual love for classic novels. Their enthusiasm for books mirrored your own, and you found yourself enjoying the banter, feeling a sense of connection with this person you’d just met.

What you didn’t realize was that Spencer was watching from afar, his heart twisting in knots as he observed how easily you interacted with new people. It was something he envied—how naturally you navigated social situations, how the friendly vibes seemed to radiate off you in waves. Anyone could see how nice you were, how approachable, and it only made him more aware of the tension that had built up between the two of you.

He wished things could have gotten off to a better start between you. But every time he thought about trying to fix things, that cold interaction from the other night lingered in his mind, making him think it was too late. And now, seeing you so effortlessly connect with someone else, someone who had already made you smile, only deepened the pang of jealousy in his chest.

As you made your way to the register, Shane walked with you, continuing the conversation. Just before you reached the counter, Shane asked, “Hey, would it be okay if I got your number? I’d love to keep talking about books and maybe grab a coffee sometime.”

You smiled, feeling flattered by the request. “Sure, I’d like that.” You exchanged numbers, feeling a small flutter of excitement as you parted ways with Shane.

Meanwhile, Spencer watched from a distance, the jealousy tightening its grip. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the effortless way in which you interacted with others, or if it was the fact that someone else had gotten your number so easily—something he knew he could never have done. Either way, the feeling gnawed at him, making him feel even more isolated than before.

When it was your turn to pay, you glanced back and noticed Spencer standing behind you in line. His eyes were downcast, his expression unreadable, but you remembered how upset he had been earlier. Knowing he was having a bad day and sensing the awkward vibes that had developed between the two of you, you decided to do something small to brighten his day.

Leaning in to the cashier, you whispered, “Could you estimate how much his books would cost?”

The cashier smiled and nodded, quickly scanning the stack of books in Spencer’s hands with their eyes. They told you the amount, and you quietly pulled out your bills, paying for Spencer’s purchases along with your own. Without saying a word to him, you took your bag and left the store, hoping that this small act of kindness might bring a bit of light into his day.

As Spencer approached the counter, still lost in his thoughts, the cashier smiled warmly at him. “You’re all set, sir. The woman in front of you already paid for your books.”

Spencer blinked, momentarily stunned. “She… she did what?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

The cashier nodded, still smiling. “She paid for everything. Said she hoped you’d have a good day.”

Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, holding the bag of books as if it were the most precious thing in the world. His mind raced, trying to make sense of why you would do something so kind for him when he had been nothing but cold to you since you met. The memory of your most recent awkward exchange at Rossi’s house replayed in his head, and guilt washed over him like a tidal wave.

Why would you do such a kind thing? He didn’t deserve it, not after the way he had treated you. And yet, you had done it anyway, without a word, without expecting anything in return.

As Spencer left the store, the bag of books clutched in his hand, he was overwhelmed by a mix of gratitude, guilt, and a growing sense of something missing. He’d had doubts about his relationship with Eli before, but he had always convinced himself that this was just how relationships were—messy and full of compromises.

But after seeing your kindness and how effortlessly you connected with others, Spencer couldn’t help but wonder if he was missing out on something better. For the first time, he questioned whether he deserved more than what he had settled for with Eli. Your simple act of paying for his books had cracked open a door in his mind, making him realize that maybe there was a different, happier path he could take—one that might even include someone like you.

—

When Spencer walked into the bullpen that Monday, he immediately noticed Penelope animatedly talking with Derek and Emily. The moment she heard someone enter, her eyes lit up as she saw him.

“Reid!” she exclaimed with her usual enthusiasm.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he walked over to her instead of heading straight to his desk. “What’s up?” he asked, his tone light and amused.

“Look!” Penelope gushed, thrusting a book into his hands with excitement.

Spencer glanced down, recognizing the book instantly—it was a first edition of a title he knew Penelope loved. His eyes widened in genuine awe. “Wow! Where did you find this?” he asked, marveling at the rare find.

Penelope sighed happily, clutching her hands to her heart. “Y/N got it for me! I couldn’t make it to the new bookstore, and she knew how sad I was, so she bought this to cheer me up!”

Spencer processed this new piece of information, feeling a warmth spread through him. Of course you did, he thought to himself, you’re the nicest person ever. “That’s… that’s really great, Garcia,” he said with a sincere smile.

“Isn’t she just the sweetest?” Penelope beamed, taking the book back and staring at it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Derek chuckled, adding, “Yeah, mama. That girl is a gem. I’m glad someone is treating you good when I’m not around.”

Spencer nodded, his mind lingering on you. It was just another reminder of the kind of person you were, and it made him think even more about what he might be missing out on.

"Something brewing in that big brain?" Emily teased, noticing Spencer had gone quiet, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

"Hmm?" Spencer responded, looking up at her, momentarily pulled from his reverie.

"Are you okay, Reid?" she tried again, her voice tinged with concern.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their stares. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... haven't had my coffee yet," he replied, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

Derek chuckled, sensing Spencer's discomfort. "Rossi just made a new pot. I'll go grab a cup with you, pretty boy."

Spencer nodded gratefully as the two men headed to the breakroom, which was mostly empty, save for a few agents from other departments who were too engrossed in their own conversations to pay them any mind.

"Do anything fun this weekend?" Derek asked casually as he started making his coffee, glancing over at Spencer with a curious look.

Spencer allowed himself a small smile as he replied, "Yeah, I went to that new bookstore. They had their grand opening."

Derek thought for a moment, then asked, "Did you see Y/N there?"

Spencer's hand froze mid-stir, his expression faltering. "Oh, uh, no," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly, clearly caught off guard by the question.

Derek narrowed his eyes, not missing the way Spencer suddenly seemed on edge. "Alright, spit it out, kid," he pressed, sensing there was more to the story.

"Spit what out?" Spencer sassed, attempting to deflect, but his tone lacked conviction.

Derek just sighed, giving him a look that said, Don't bullshit me. "I've noticed you don't necessarily... enjoy Y/N's company. Did you run into her? Was it weird?"

Spencer let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in trying to hide it from Derek. "Yeah, I saw her," he admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But it wasn't weird. I mean, not exactly. It’s just... complicated."

Derek raised an eyebrow, waiting for Spencer to continue. "Complicated how?"

Spencer hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I think she might have overheard me on the phone with Eli... They were supposed to come with me to the bookstore, but they didn’t. I was upset," Spencer shrugged, trying to downplay the hurt in his voice.

Derek softened his gaze, sensing the vulnerability in Spencer’s words. "I’m sorry, man. Did they give a good reason?"

Spencer shrugged again, his eyes welling up as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "Um, they said they needed to watch the football game. Something to do with the fantasy league they’re in."

Derek rolled his eyes, his frustration evident. "That is not a good reason. Eli should have known this was important to you."

Spencer cleared his throat, staring intently at his coffee, willing the tears not to fall. "They knew... I don’t know if they cared."

"Reid..." Derek began, his voice gentle, but Spencer quickly waved his hand, cutting him off.

"No, no. It’s fine—we talked about it," Spencer said, his voice wavering but firm, clearly wanting to move past the topic.

Seeing that Spencer didn’t want to delve deeper into the matter, Derek decided to let it go for now, though he still hadn’t gotten the answer to his earlier question. "What does that have to do with Y/N?"

Spencer sighed heavily, the weight of his embarrassment pressing down on him. "She was walking past during the end of the call. I think she might have heard me, but she was too polite to say anything. I don’t know… I’m just embarrassed. My own partner wouldn’t show up to something that important to me, and she probably heard how pathetic that sounded."

Derek frowned, his heart going out to his friend. "You’re not pathetic, Reid. You’ve just been dealt a rough hand. And Y/N… well, she’s not the kind of person to judge you for that. If anything, she probably feels bad that you were hurt."

Spencer nodded, though the shame still lingered. "Yeah, maybe. It’s just hard, you know? I don’t want her—or anyone—to see me like that."

Derek gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "I get it, man. But Y/N… she’s good people. Maybe talking to her might help, even if it’s just to clear the air."

Spencer considered Derek’s words, the idea of reaching out to you both comforting and terrifying. But deep down, he knew Derek was right. It wasn’t too late to make things right, and maybe—just maybe—you’d be the understanding ear he desperately needed.

After parting ways with Derek, Spencer realized he’d forgotten to mention how you had quietly paid for his books at the bookstore. Wrapped up in the emotions of their conversation, it had slipped his mind. But as he returned to his desk, the memory resurfaced, and he found himself holding onto it like a cherished secret.

Spencer wanted to keep that moment to himself, a private reminder of your kindness. It had meant more to him than words could express, especially in a time when he often felt overlooked. Your simple act of generosity was a bright spot, making him feel seen and cared for in a way he rarely experienced.

—

Thursday evening marked your first date with Shane, and it was everything you had hoped for. They had called earlier in the week to make plans, and you were excited to have someone showing genuine interest and making an effort. Penelope had eagerly offered to help you get ready, her expertise in all things beauty proving invaluable.

"Pen, you’re seriously the best," you gushed as she applied the finishing touches to your look. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Penelope giggled, her eyes twinkling. "Probably show up looking a lot less flamboyant!"

"And we would not want that," you teased with a smile, savoring every moment of girl time with your roommate and best friend.

When Shane arrived to pick you up, they were the epitome of courteousness—opening doors, pulling out your chair, and keeping the conversation lively throughout the evening. It was an amazing first date, made even better by Shane’s undeniable attractiveness. You enjoyed yourself thoroughly, feeling a spark of excitement about where this could lead.

Meanwhile, across the restaurant, Spencer sat at a table with Eli, his view of you unobstructed. What should have been a special anniversary dinner had been overshadowed by the effort it took to even get Eli to agree to go out. Spencer had to beg them to celebrate, with Eli initially resisting, claiming they didn’t want to spend the money. Spencer had insisted it was worth it, that their relationship was worth celebrating. Eli eventually caved, but only because they didn’t want Spencer to start crying—again.

As Spencer watched you laugh and smile with Shane, he felt a sharp pang in his chest, the desire to drown his sorrows in a bottle of wine nearly overwhelming. The contrast between your joyous date and his own crumbling relationship was stark. Eli sat across from him, more interested in checking their fantasy football league stats than in engaging with him.

Of course, you would go on a date with the attractive person from the bookstore. In Spencer’s eyes, they were everything he wasn’t. It made sense that you’d find happiness with someone like that, while he watched his own chances at joy slip further away. It was just another reminder that good things, happiness, were always just out of reach for him. As he sat there, barely holding back his tears, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of his own choices, the realization that he had pushed away someone who might have brought him the kind of happiness he saw reflected in your smile from across the room.

After Shane paid the bill for your dinner, causing you to swoon at the kind gesture, the two of you walked toward the exit, Shane’s hand resting intimately on your lower back. As you passed by Spencer's table, you couldn’t resist saying hello, the expensive wine Shane had ordered loosening your tongue.

“Spencer! Hi!” you greeted excitedly, your smile wide.

Spencer looked up at you, clearly caught off guard, his expression quickly shifting to a polite smile. “Hello,” he replied, trying to mask his surprise.

“What are you doing here? Is this Eli?” You turned to the person sitting across from him, offering a warm smile.

Eli, however, gave you a cold, sinister look. “Wow, beauty and brains, what a catch,” they remarked snidely, directing their comment at Shane.

The sarcasm completely flew over your head, and you responded cheerfully, “I think you’re pretty too! It’s so nice to meet you, and Spencer, so good to see you! Bye!” You gave a little wave, before taking Shane’s hand and dragging them toward the car, their laughter following behind you. Shane, having had much less to drink, simply smiled, amused by your tipsy enthusiasm.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Spencer grew even more quiet, while Eli’s anger simmered, their face contorting with irritation.

“What the fuck was that?” Eli asked, their voice low and venomous.

Spencer’s head snapped up, startled by the harshness in Eli’s tone. “What? Y/N? She’s drunk,” he replied, trying to defuse the situation, though he felt increasingly uncomfortable under Eli’s glare.

“No shit, Spencer,” Eli scoffed, rolling their eyes with frustration. “But why did they say hi to you?”

Spencer fumbled for an explanation, feeling cornered. “Umm… I guess we’re kind of friends by association?” he offered, his words uncertain, as even he wasn’t sure how to define your relationship.

Eli’s eyes narrowed, their anger intensifying. “I told you not to talk to her. I asked you to do one fucking thing in this relationship—how hard is it to not talk to some dumb bimbo?” they snarled.

Spencer shrank in his seat, feeling like a scolded child. His embarrassment was palpable as he tried to explain, “I can’t help that she’s Penelope’s roommate. I like to be civil.”

“Civil, sure,” Eli spat, their tone dripping with contempt. “But I’m serious, Spencer. Don’t. Fucking. Talk to her.”

Spencer sat there, shrinking further under Eli’s gaze, a sense of helplessness washing over him. The contrast between your cheerful, lighthearted demeanor and Eli’s seething anger left him feeling more isolated than ever. The joy you had shown in such a simple greeting only highlighted the growing chasm between him and his partner, making him question, yet again, why he was holding onto something that felt so toxic and damaging.

—

It was a few weeks before your paths crossed with Spencer again, and during that time, he couldn't help but wonder if Eli had somehow managed to keep you away from him. But today, here you were, standing in the bullpen with Penelope’s phone in hand, panting slightly from your rush to deliver it.

“Y/N! You’re a lifesaver!” Penelope cried out, pulling you into a tight hug.

You laughed, catching your breath. “I don’t even know how you made it out of the house without this thing, I thought it was attached to you!”

Derek and Emily joined in the laughter, clearly enjoying the interaction. “Baby girl was excited to come in today—they gave her a new monitor,” Derek teased, grinning.

“Ohh, show me!” you clapped your hands in excitement, your enthusiasm infectious.

As you followed Penelope to her office, you passed by Spencer’s desk, giving him a soft, “Hi, Spencer,” your voice low and warm.

But Spencer didn’t look up. He simply stared down at the file in front of him, his mind far from his work. Eli’s threat echoed in his head, reminding him that he couldn’t talk to you. The lack of response went unnoticed by everyone except for you and Emily.

After you disappeared into Penelope’s office, Emily walked over to Spencer’s desk, her expression concerned. “Reid…? Is something wrong?” she asked cautiously, her voice gentle.

Spencer looked up, shaking his head as if to brush off her concern. “No,” he replied curtly, but his tone was anything but reassuring.

Emily wasn’t convinced. “Okay, well, it’s just… you ignored Y/N pretty harshly. I think she was just trying to be nice.”

Spencer knew it was an overreaction, but the turmoil in his mind was overwhelming, clouding his judgment. He felt cornered, and before he could stop himself, he snapped, “Oh yeah, Emily? Is that what you think? I’m sure you’re right, seeing as you know everything.”

With that, he abruptly stood up, storming out of the bullpen, leaving Emily and Derek in stunned silence. 

Rossi, who had been quietly working at his desk nearby, looked up, his brow furrowed with concern as he fixed Emily and Derek with a questioning gaze. “Is he using again?” he asked, his voice heavy with worry.

“Fuck,” Derek muttered under his breath, quickly getting up to chase after Spencer, his heart pounding with fear and urgency. 

Emily exchanged a worried glance with Rossi, both of them hoping that whatever was going on with Spencer could be addressed before it spiraled out of control.

"Reid, wait up!" Derek called out as he watched Spencer stride quickly down the hall, his pace fueled by frustration and confusion. Spencer, too caught up in his thoughts, didn’t stop or even acknowledge Derek's voice. But Derek was determined, and he quickened his pace, finally catching up to Spencer and grabbing his arm, halting him in his tracks.

"Kid, I need you to tell me right here and now if you’re using again," Derek panted, his concern clear in his voice.

Spencer's face immediately morphed into one of shock and offense. "What? No! I’m clean," he replied, his tone defensive but honest.

Derek sighed deeply, relief flooding him. "Okay, thank God."

Spencer frowned, still reeling from the accusation. "Why would you think that?"

Derek looked at him intently. "Did you hear yourself just now? You were out of line with Prentiss. She was only trying to help."

Spencer let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and sharp. "Isn’t that what everyone wants to do? Help poor, defenseless Spencer," he said sarcastically. "Why can’t I ever just take care of myself?"

Derek gave him a sympathetic look, his concern deepening. "That’s not what I meant. I’m just worried about you. Is it more stuff with Eli?"

The mention of Eli’s name set Spencer off again, the anger bubbling back to the surface. "Christ, is there no privacy anymore?" he snapped, his voice tight with frustration.

Derek held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I’m not trying to invade your privacy, man. I just want to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been off lately, and I’m concerned. We all are."

Spencer’s shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of everything pressing down on him. "It’s… nothing, Derek."

Derek nodded, his tone softening. "It doesn’t seem like nothing, kid."

Spencer looked down, his voice small and almost defeated. "Can you just… stop being a big brother for a second?"

Derek’s expression softened even more as he asked gently, "Who do you want me to be?"

Spencer let out a weary sigh. "I don’t know… a wizard? Then maybe you could help me go back in time."

Derek started to ask, "Why do you need–" but before he could finish, his phone rang, the familiar tone signaling a new case. He glanced at the screen, then back at Spencer with a resigned look. "Time to go."

Spencer nodded, the moment slipping away as the reality of their work took precedence. But as they walked back toward the bullpen, Derek couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on beneath the surface—something that Spencer wasn’t ready to share yet.

—

When the team arrived back from the case, Spencer dreaded going home. He hadn't talked to Eli since the day they left, sending only a brief text to let them know he was heading out on a case and another just now to inform them he was back. But as usual, there were no messages waiting for him in return. Eli had done this before—the silent treatment. It was their way of letting Spencer know he had messed up, though the reason was often unclear until Eli decided to spell it out.

As Spencer approached his front door, the familiar feeling of anxiety settled in his chest. He knew what awaited him: the cold, silent disapproval from Eli, followed by the inevitable confrontation. It was why he was dreading going home, but there was no avoiding it.

When Spencer unlocked the front door, he was greeted by the sound of football blaring from the TV, and not much else. The usual signs of Eli’s presence—a drink on the coffee table, their shoes kicked off haphazardly—were all there, but the silence from Eli themselves was telling. 

He announced his presence quietly, hoping to gauge the mood before he ventured further into the house. Without much of a response, Spencer headed to the laundry room, deciding to busy himself with washing his clothes. It was a mundane task, but it gave him something to focus on, a way to delay the inevitable confrontation.

What Spencer wasn’t expecting was for Eli to suddenly come up behind him, wrapping their arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck. The affectionate gesture caught him off guard.

“Hey, baby,” Eli whispered, their voice soft and intimate.

“He–hey, Eli,” Spencer stammered, unsure of how to respond. He couldn’t tell if this was going to lead to something good or if it was just a precursor to another argument.

“I missed you while you were gone,” Eli mumbled, their lips trailing across Spencer’s neck, planting gentle kisses along his skin.

“Yeah?” Spencer sighed, tilting his head slightly to give Eli more access, his body instinctively responding to the affection despite the uncertainty gnawing at him.

“Mhm, it’s so lonely here without you,” Eli murmured, continuing their gentle assault of kisses.

That evening, Spencer found himself in the company of a sweet, loving, and cherishing Eli. It was a side of his partner he didn’t see often, and he was left wondering what he had done to deserve this sudden tenderness. But instead of questioning it, he allowed himself to be swept up in the rare affection, choosing to savor the moment rather than dwell on the why.

For that night, at least, Spencer let himself believe that everything was okay, that maybe this time things would be different. Even if it was just for a little while, he wasn’t going to complain.

—

You got a mysterious text from Shane, asking if they could come over to talk. You agreed, of course, but a nervous feeling settled in your stomach. Things had been going really well between the two of you—multiple dates, kisses, and they had even met Penelope. But as you opened the door to let them in, you immediately sensed that this wasn’t going to be good news.

"Hey, Y/N," Shane greeted with a sigh, giving you a sad smile. "Can I come in?"

You opened the door wider and motioned for them to enter, trying to brace yourself for whatever was coming. The two of you sat in the chairs by the window, the tension palpable as you waited for Shane to speak.

"What’s up, Shane?" you asked cautiously, your heart already preparing for the worst.

Shane sighed again, scratching the back of their head, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, I really respect you, so I felt it was only fair to tell you face to face... that I met someone. Someone I want to pursue things with exclusively."

Your heart sank. Of course, the one genuine person you meet found someone better than you. "Oh," was all you could manage to say, the word barely escaping your lips as you processed the rejection.

"I’m sorry, Y/N," Shane continued, their expression full of pity. "You’re a lovely person, and I really enjoyed our time together. But I just—"

"You don’t have to explain," you interrupted, forcing a small, tight-lipped smile despite the ache building in your chest. "I get it."

Shane frowned, clearly feeling bad, but they didn’t push further. They stood, clearly sensing that it was time to leave. "I really do wish you the best, Y/N. You deserve someone amazing."

You nodded, but the words felt hollow in the space between you. After you closed the door behind them, you sank into your chair, the weight of disappointment settling heavily on your shoulders. You hadn’t expected this, and now you were left alone, wondering why this always seemed to happen—just when things seemed to be going well, they unraveled.

As you sat there, staring blankly out the window, the weight of the rejection settled deep into your chest. You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t a big deal, that these things happen, but the familiar voice of self-doubt crept in, louder and sharper than ever. Of course they found someone better. Why wouldn’t they?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that it was always you—never enough, never quite the right fit. You replayed the last few weeks in your mind, analyzing every detail, every moment, searching for where you might have fallen short. Maybe you weren’t interesting enough, not exciting enough, not worth sticking around for. 

What if I’m just not the kind of person people choose? The thought gnawed at you, sinking deeper into your mind. Every small flaw, every insecurity felt magnified, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just how things would always be. Always second place. Always left behind.

—

Meanwhile, everything between Spencer and Eli seemed to improve dramatically. Eli was suddenly attentive in ways Spencer hadn’t experienced in a long time. They bought Spencer flowers, cooked him dinner, and even made an effort to engage in the things Spencer loved—whether it was sitting with him through documentaries or accompanying him on long walks through the city.

Spencer wasn’t sure what had sparked this radical change in Eli, but he didn’t dare question it. Part of him was afraid that if he asked, the magic would break, and everything would go back to the way it was before—the cold indifference, the emotional distance. For now, he clung to the fleeting happiness, allowing himself to believe that maybe this was the turning point he had been waiting for. 

But in the back of his mind, a quiet voice whispered that good things never lasted for him, and any moment, it could all disappear. He knew better than to get comfortable, but for now, he basked in the attention, unwilling to let go of this brief glimpse of a perfect relationship.

Eli had never been one for grand gestures, but lately, everything felt different. Spencer came home one evening to find a bouquet of brightly colored flowers on the kitchen table, their fragrance filling the room. 

"Hey, you’re home!" Eli called from the kitchen, a warm smile on their face as they stirred something on the stove. "I made your favorite—pasta with garlic bread. Thought you might like something comforting after your day."

Spencer blinked, his mind racing as he tried to process the shift. He set his bag down, cautiously approaching the flowers. "You… got these for me?" he asked, his voice soft, unsure.

Eli chuckled and walked over to him, wiping their hands on a dish towel before wrapping their arms around his waist. "Of course, I did. You deserve it, Spencie."

Spencer smiled, though his brow furrowed slightly in confusion. This wasn’t like Eli at all. "I… thank you. They’re beautiful." He leaned down to smell the flowers, a wave of warmth flooding him, but a lingering doubt hovered at the back of his mind.

Later that week, they were sitting together on the couch, something they rarely did. Eli had insisted on watching one of Spencer’s favorite documentaries, something about ancient civilizations that Spencer would usually watch alone.

"I never knew this stuff was so interesting," Eli commented, their head resting on Spencer’s shoulder. "Why didn’t you make me watch this with you sooner?"

Spencer looked down at them, unsure of how to respond. "I didn’t think it was really your thing," he admitted, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of Eli’s shirt. "You’ve never really… wanted to before."

Eli sat up slightly, turning to face Spencer, their hand coming to rest on his knee. "Well, I want to now," they said, smiling softly.

Spencer’s heart swelled at the words, but the confusion deepened. This was everything he had wanted from Eli for so long, but the sudden shift left him off-balance. Still, he wasn’t ready to question it—not when things were finally good. He forced himself to smile back, leaning in to kiss Eli’s forehead. 

"I appreciate that," he whispered, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "I just…I’m happy."

Eli kissed him softly on the lips, pulling him closer. "I love you, Spencie," they murmured, their words sweet and tender. "And I want to make sure you know that."

Spencer wrapped his arms around them, his mind swirling with unanswered questions. He wanted to ask what had caused this change, what had made Eli suddenly decide to be the partner he had always hoped for. But the fear of losing this fleeting happiness kept him silent. He wasn’t ready to risk it all, not yet.

—

Penelope had been watching you closely for days, her eyes filled with concern. She knew something was wrong, but you had been keeping your walls up, retreating further into your sadness after things fell apart with Shane. Every attempt she made to drag you out of the apartment had been met with a firm, “I’m just not feeling up to it, Pen.”

But Penelope wasn’t one to give up so easily. "Come on, honey, you can’t just sit here and stew over that idiot forever," she urged, practically bouncing on her feet. "We need to go out, have some fun, and remind the world who the hell we are!"

"I don’t know…" you trailed off, glancing at the TV as though it had something to offer. But you knew it didn’t. You just didn’t have the energy.

"Y/N," Penelope said firmly, placing her hands on her hips, "I love you, but sitting in pajamas while watching reality shows for the third night in a row is not how we get over this. You are coming with me."

You sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to relent. "Fine," you groaned, finally giving in.

Penelope’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Yes! Shower, now. I’m doing your makeup, and we are going to paint the town red!"

It wasn’t long before she had you dolled up, feeling like a different version of yourself. The two of you hit the town with one goal: to get drunk and forget all about stupid people like Shane. JJ, Emily, and Derek met up with you at the bar, and soon you were all dancing up a storm. The music, the energy, and the friends surrounding you were doing exactly what Penelope had intended—they were lifting you out of your funk.

You loved the attention you were getting, and it was absolutely helping you feel better about everything that had happened. The compliments, the laughs, the warmth of your friends—it was like a balm to the hurt you had been carrying.

After a while, you started feeling parched from all the dancing, so you drifted away from the group to grab some water at the bar. As you reached the counter, you bumped into someone.

"Oh, I’m sorry," you yelped, turning quickly to see who it was you’d run into.

To your surprise, the body turned around, and there, standing in front of you, was Eli. Your stomach dropped slightly, expecting some snide remark, a cutting comment like the ones you’d heard before.

But instead, Eli let out a light laugh. "No problem!" they said with a smile, their tone unusually friendly.

You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected response. Even Spencer, standing next to Eli, looked just as surprised, his brow furrowed slightly at Eli’s easygoing attitude toward you.

"Uh… thanks," you said, forcing a polite smile, still not entirely sure what to make of the encounter.

Eli nodded, still smiling, before turning back to their drink, leaving you standing there, feeling slightly bewildered. You couldn’t help but glance at Spencer, who gave you a small, almost apologetic smile, as if to acknowledge how strange the moment had been.

The interaction left you feeling a bit off-kilter, but as you grabbed your water and headed back to the dance floor, you pushed the weirdness aside. Tonight was about you, about having fun and moving on. Whatever Eli’s sudden kindness meant, you weren’t going to let it throw you off track.

Soon, you couldn’t just brush off the strange interaction because, much to your surprise, Spencer and Eli joined the rest of you on the dance floor. It was a sight you hadn’t expected.

“Whoa, pretty boy! I didn’t think you’d show!” Derek cheered, clearly having invited Spencer without anyone else knowing.

Spencer gave a half-smile, looking awkward as he stood on the outskirts of the group. “Yeah, uh… Eli thought it would be fun,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his discomfort obvious.

“Well, loosen up, genius!” Emily called out, playfully nudging him. “We’re here to have fun.”

Eli, however, had no problem jumping right in, grabbing Spencer by the hips and guiding him into the rhythm of the music. Spencer’s movement was stilted, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but Eli didn’t seem to mind, dancing all around him, their hands sliding over his shoulders and down his sides. The contrast between Spencer’s stiff posture and Eli’s free-spirited movements made for an interesting sight.

You tried to brush it off, but the more you watched, the more an odd sense of jealousy began to brew in your chest. It’s just because I’m newly single, you told yourself, trying to rationalize the pang of envy. But it didn’t feel that simple, and as you watched Eli spin Spencer with a grin, you couldn’t help but wonder why it bothered you so much.

Penelope noticed your mood shift immediately, her eyes following your gaze. She knew you too well, and it wasn’t long before she saw you slipping off the dance floor, making your way outside for some air. She wasn’t surprised at all—you needed a moment to clear your head.

What did surprise you, though, was when the door opened a few minutes later, and Spencer stepped out, his hands shoved into his pockets as he came to stand next to you. The cool night air felt refreshing against your heated skin, but Spencer’s presence made your heart race slightly, unsure of what to say or do.

Neither of you spoke for a moment, the silence hanging between you like a thread waiting to be pulled.

“You okay?” Spencer finally asked, his voice soft as he looked at you, the concern clear in his expression.

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light despite the heaviness in your chest. “Yeah, just needed some air. It was getting a little... crowded in there.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze drifting down the street before returning to you. “Yeah, I get that,” he said quietly. He shifted his weight, looking almost as uncomfortable out here as he did on the dance floor.

You glanced over at him, curiosity tugging at you. “You don’t really seem like a club guy,” you said, half teasing.

Spencer chuckled awkwardly, his shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug. “I’m not,” he admitted. “I, uh, don’t really dance. Eli’s more into that.”

You nodded, watching him for a moment. There was something in his eyes—something that made you feel like he wasn’t entirely thrilled to be out here either.

“Eli seems really into it,” you said, testing the waters, unsure why you even brought it up.

Spencer’s smile faltered for a split second before he nodded again. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice quieter this time. He didn’t elaborate, and the silence between you grew, filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions that neither of you seemed ready to address.

After a moment, you decided to break the tension. “I didn’t expect to see you out tonight.”

Spencer chuckled softly, kicking at a loose pebble with his shoe. “I didn’t expect to be out, to be honest,” he admitted. “But, well... here I am.”

You smiled, feeling a strange connection in that shared sentiment. “Yeah, here we are.”

Spencer didn’t know why he followed you. Maybe it was the way you quietly slipped away from the group, or maybe it was something deeper—a feeling he couldn’t quite explain, like an invisible string pulling him after you. He had hesitated for a moment, glancing at Eli before deciding he needed to step outside.

“Hey, uh... is it okay if I step out for some air?” Spencer asked, trying to sound casual.

Eli’s eyes flickered toward the door, then back to him. “With Y/N?” they asked, their tone neutral, but it made Spencer catch his breath, suddenly nervous that Eli might get upset in front of everyone.

Spencer swallowed hard. “Is that... okay?” he asked tentatively, trying to gauge Eli’s reaction.

Eli’s face softened, a sweet smile forming as they nodded. “Yeah, Spencie! Go check on your friend.”

Relief washed over Spencer, though a small knot of confusion lingered. Eli’s sudden sweetness left him feeling a bit unsettled, but he didn’t question it. Instead, he gave a small smile in return before quietly making his way outside to join you.

As he stood next to you in the cool night air, the questions he had about Eli faded, replaced by an inexplicable need to be there with you, to share this quiet moment away from the chaos of the night.

You and Spencer remained side by side, chatting politely, both enjoying the quiet reprieve from the crowd inside. The cool night air felt refreshing, a stark contrast to the warm chaos of the dance floor.

“Are you, uh—still seeing that person from the other week?” Spencer asked awkwardly, his words stumbling out as he glanced at you.

You stiffened slightly at the mention of Shane, the wound still fresh, not something you wanted to discuss right now, especially not here. "No," you said simply, hoping to leave it at that.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting away before he coughed. "Oh," he mumbled, then added, "I’m sorry. They’re an idiot."

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of his words cutting through some of the lingering pain. "Thank you," you said softly, genuinely appreciating his attempt to comfort you.

Spencer nodded, and when he finally looked at you, something in his expression changed. His eyes locked with yours, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still. He realized in that instant that what he felt looking into your eyes—this connection, this spark—was stronger than anything he’d ever felt with Eli. Every moment he had shared with Eli over the course of their relationship paled in comparison to what he felt standing there with you now.

The realization hit him like a tidal wave, both exhilarating and terrifying. He wasn’t sure what to do with this feeling, and the fear of what it meant gripped him tightly. Spencer wasn’t ready to confront it, but in that moment, he knew something had shifted between the two of you. And that scared him more than anything.

—

The next time you saw him, Eli was by his side once again. The team was gathered to celebrate Aaron Hotchner’s birthday with a fancy dinner followed by a play, and the atmosphere was light, filled with laughter and easy conversation. The dinner had been delicious, and everyone was in high spirits as you all made your way to the theater, excitement buzzing in the air.

Finding your seats, you realized the universe must have been playing some sort of twisted joke. The numbers on your tickets had placed you directly next to Spencer. It seemed innocent enough—JJ was on your other side, and Eli sat beside Spencer—but the proximity between you two felt charged in a way that was hard to ignore.

The lights dimmed, and the show began, captivating the audience almost immediately. You focused on the performance, but you had no idea that Spencer's mind was far from the stage. Since the moment you walked into the restaurant tonight, Spencer’s mind had been a chaotic kaleidoscope of images of you. The way you looked, the way you moved, the sound of your laugh—it was overwhelming.

Sitting so close to you now, he felt a primal, almost feral need stirring inside him, something he'd never experienced so intensely before. It was beyond mere attraction; it was hunger. He could barely focus on the play as his thoughts drifted to you again and again.

Spencer’s chest tightened with guilt as his mind began slipping away from innocent thoughts. At first, his musings were harmless, but they quickly escalated to PG-13, and then further, to places he had never allowed himself to go before. He couldn’t shake it, this wild, uncontrollable pull toward you. He wanted to tear his thoughts away, but every fiber of his being was hyper-aware of your presence next to him.

It was horrible—he felt like he was betraying Eli, even though the thoughts stayed locked inside his own head. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he tried to suppress the desire building within him. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this, not when Eli was sitting right next to him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the intense attraction coursing through his body. The guilt gnawed at him, but the desire burned even stronger.

He felt trapped, stuck between the relationship he had and the undeniable draw he felt toward you. And in that dark theater, surrounded by his friends, Spencer’s thoughts were anything but innocent.

During intermission, Spencer excused himself, practically fleeing to the restroom. Once there, he splashed cold water on his face, hoping to wash away the guilty, indecent thoughts that had plagued him throughout the first half of the play. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, staring at his reflection, trying to regain control of himself.

Meanwhile, you headed to the concession stand, grabbing a lemonade. It came with a straw, which you twirled absentmindedly as you made your way back to your seat. You settled in, sipping slowly as everyone found their spots again.

When Spencer returned and sat next to you, he tried to focus on anything but you—the play, Eli, anything—but his eyes kept drifting to your lips as you wrapped them around the straw, sipping your drink. The way you casually sipped, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him, made his throat dry.

You noticed his lingering gaze and raised an eyebrow, suppressing a small smile. "Want a sip?" you offered, holding the drink out toward him, your voice teasing but light.

Spencer hesitated for a second, knowing that accepting it would be a bad idea. But then again, what harm could one sip do? "Sure," he replied, his voice low, almost strained.

Instead of taking the cup from your hand, Spencer leaned over, resting his hand lightly on your thigh as he bent toward you. His touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, and your breath hitched as he brought his lips to the straw still clasped in your hand. He took a slow sip, his hand remaining firmly in place, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of your dress.

Your face flushed a deep crimson, the simple act of him drinking from the same straw suddenly charged with an intimacy you hadn’t anticipated. You glanced quickly at Eli, but they were preoccupied, furiously typing away on their phone, not even noticing what was happening between you and Spencer.

As the lights flickered, signaling the end of intermission, Spencer pulled back, the drink slipping from his lips, but his hand stayed where it was, resting warmly on your thigh. The lights dimmed once more, and the play resumed, but Spencer’s touch remained, grounding you in a way that made it impossible to focus on anything else.

Neither of you said a word, but the unspoken tension between you hung in the air, heavier than ever. You didn’t dare move, and neither did he. And as the minutes passed, you could feel the weight of that moment, the quiet acknowledgement that whatever was happening between you was more than just fleeting glances or stolen moments.

Spencer’s hand stayed on your thigh for the rest of the show, and you tried to rationalize it. It’s probably just the wine he had with dinner, you thought, convincing yourself he was just feeling a bit more friendly than usual. After all, the two of you had bonded that night at the club, and maybe this was just an extension of that. Still, the warmth of his hand lingered longer than it should have, sending ripples of confusion through you.

When the lights came back on and the play ended, you quickly stood, clapping in applause and efficiently removing Spencer’s hand from your leg. You didn’t want to dwell on it, but the moment left you feeling uneasy. As the theater cleared, the group gathered outside to say their goodbyes, but you found yourself avoiding Spencer’s gaze.

Leaning over to Penelope, you whispered, "I’m not feeling so great. I think I need to head out."

Concern flashed across her face, but she didn’t question you. "Of course, babe. Let’s go."

After wishing Aaron a happy birthday, you and Penelope left before you could make any eye contact with Spencer. Your thoughts raced as you hurried away, unsure why he had acted the way he did. You didn’t hate what had happened, and that made it worse. He has a partner, you reminded yourself, the guilt settling heavily in your chest.

Meanwhile, Spencer and Eli made their way home as well. The silence between them was thick with unspoken tension, but when they arrived, Eli wasted no time initiating an intimate night. Spencer let it happen, going through the motions as his mind drifted back to you. He felt a surge of guilt and self-loathing. As Eli’s hands moved over him, Spencer’s thoughts were filled with the image of you, your laughter, the feel of your thigh beneath his palm. It made him feel like a monster, like he was betraying not only Eli, but you as well.

But what Spencer didn’t realize was that he wasn’t the only one with someone else on his mind. As Eli kissed him, their thoughts weren’t on Spencer either. The unspoken fractures in their relationship were growing wider, with both of them secretly imagining someone else, locked in a cycle of unaddressed desires and unvoiced doubts.

—

It was October now, and Halloween was rapidly approaching—Spencer's favorite time of year and his absolute favorite holiday. The excitement had been building for weeks, and it was palpable. He loved everything about Halloween—the history, the traditions, and, of course, the chance to dress up and lose himself in the festive spirit.

But as the holiday approached, so did the Halloween party you and Penelope were throwing. The entire team had been invited, along with their partners and a few other friends. It was going to be a night full of fun, laughter, and celebration, and you couldn't wait to show everyone the apartment, which was fully decked out in spooky decorations. 

Though you were looking forward to the party, there was one thought that kept crossing your mind: Spencer. He’d be there, of course, with Eli by his side. It was hard to shake the feeling that no matter how much time had passed since that strange, tension-filled evening at the theater, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The truth was, you knew you couldn’t have him—he was spoken for, and no matter what had happened or hadn’t happened, he was off-limits.

But that didn’t stop you from hoping your costume might catch his eye.

You’d spent extra time picking out the perfect outfit—something that was fun and playful, but with just enough edge to make an impression. Part of you wondered if he would notice, if he would look at you the way he had during the play. Even though you knew it was dangerous territory, the thought lingered in the back of your mind.

As you finished adjusting the final Halloween decorations, you glanced around the apartment, satisfied with how everything had turned out. The anticipation of the party and seeing everyone—especially Spencer—left a mix of excitement and nervousness brewing inside you.

One night, you thought. One night to celebrate, to have fun. Just let it be enough.

By the time people started arriving, your apartment had been fully transformed into a Halloween wonderland. The living room is draped in warm, spooky hues of purple and orange, with bats hanging from the ceiling and a wreath made of autumn leaves and tiny pumpkins framing the window. The couches are decorated with plush pillows and blankets, and a coffee table sits adorned with jack-o'-lanterns, flickering with eerie candlelight, surrounded by scattered fall leaves.

The hallway leading to the party area is wrapped in dark, twisting branches and shimmering orange lights, creating a haunting yet whimsical path. A skeleton sits at the dining table, illuminated by the warm glow of string lights that crisscross overhead, casting playful shadows along the walls.

Further in, an archway framed with grinning pumpkins welcomes guests into a dining area, bathed in the glow of purple lights. Jack-o'-lanterns of all shapes and sizes line the walls, giving the space a playful but eerie ambiance. It’s the kind of atmosphere that will make the party unforgettable, setting the perfect tone for the night.

You and Penelope stood by the door, greeting your guests as they entered your neon-lit, spooky apartment, handing out glowing necklaces as a fun touch to set the party's mood. Amid the excitement and stress of hosting, you nearly forgot that Spencer would be walking through that door any minute now. Your thoughts had been focused on making sure everything was perfect, greeting the steady stream of guests, and keeping the energy light and fun.

Just as you were handing another glowing necklace to a guest, the front door burst open, and in strolled Derek, as confident as ever, with Emily on one arm and JJ on the other. Emily looked striking in her sleek Morticia Addams costume, with her sharp features highlighted by her dark makeup, and JJ exuded playful fierceness in her Kill Bill-inspired outfit. Penelope, as usual, was a burst of color and creativity in her neon-pink, revealing Alice in Wonderland-esc cat costume.

Derek, dressed as a dashing fighter pilot, took one look at you and Penelope, his eyes wide with exaggerated awe. “Wow! My god, you gorgeous ladies are gonna give me a heart attack!” he playfully swooned, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. 

Penelope grinned, striking a pose next to you, her Cheshire cat grin almost matching the one she had painted on her face. "Careful, Morgan. You might need to be resuscitated."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange, but your heart fluttered slightly as you realized that any moment, Spencer would be walking in, and you wondered what he would think when he saw you in your costume.

The whole team had arrived about 20 minutes ago, with everyone dressed to impress, save for Spencer. You couldn’t help but worry he wasn’t going to come, despite his excitement about Halloween. You tried to stay positive, especially since everyone else seemed to be in good spirits. Even Hotch and Rossi had put in some effort, dressing up as Men in Black, though it was hardly a stretch from their usual look—very creative you thought with a smirk.

The party had started in full swing, laughter and music filling the room, but you couldn’t shake the slight disappointment. What if he doesn’t show?

Then, suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Without thinking, you crossed the room and swung it open, your jaw practically hitting the floor when you saw who was standing on the other side.

There, in all his unnervingly handsome glory, was Spencer—no Eli in sight. He was dressed as Patrick Bateman from American Psycho, complete with a suit, raincoat, and an ax slung over his shoulder. His normally disheveled hair was slicked back, and the blood splatter across his face made him look dangerously alluring. You could feel your heart stutter in your chest.

You stood there with your hand still on the door, staring at him for far too long to be socially acceptable. But Spencer wasn’t faring much better. His eyes had widened when he saw you in your Ghostface costume—though this was your take of the infamous killer, your fitted corset and thigh-high slit showing more than enough to leave Spencer speechless.

His lips parted slightly, the two of you caught in an awkward, electrifying silence. Neither of you moved or spoke, both seemingly frozen in the moment. You tried to find something to say, but your brain refused to cooperate. He looked breathtaking, and from the look in his eyes, you were certain he thought the same about you.

"Uh… wow," Spencer finally managed, his voice low, almost reverent.

You blinked, snapping out of your trance and feeling your cheeks heat up. "Spencer… you… look…" You trailed off, biting your lip as your eyes roamed over his form again.

"Yeah," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your costume. "You too." He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly but never taking his eyes off you.

You stepped aside, finally remembering your manners. "Come in," you said, your voice breathless.

As he walked past you, your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Tonight was going to be interesting.

“Boy wonder!” Penelope squealed as she caught sight of Spencer walking into the party. Her arms flung open dramatically before pulling him into a big squeeze. 

"Hey, Pen, great party!" Spencer laughed, his voice warm as he returned her embrace.

JJ approached, tilting her head curiously. "Where’s Eli?"

Spencer didn’t seem fazed by the question as he shrugged casually. "Oh, their friend is having a party tonight too. They might stop by later, but I wouldn’t count on it," he replied with a small laugh, seemingly unbothered by Eli’s absence.

Derek, being a sharp observer of Spencer’s moods, raised an eyebrow. “...And you’re cool with this?”

Spencer just smiled brightly, brushing it off with a light chuckle. “Yup! We don’t have to do everything together.” He laughed again, the sound easygoing and relaxed.

Everyone seemed to accept his answer, nodding along before the party really began to kick into gear. Laughter and conversation flowed easily around the room, the energy of the Halloween festivities keeping everyone entertained.

But despite the natural rhythm of the night, you couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Something about Spencer seemed off—not in a bad way, but different. He seemed almost too happy that Eli hadn’t joined him. There was something about his energy, a lightness that hadn’t been there before, and the more you watched him throughout the evening, the more you wondered what was really going on beneath that bright smile of his.

You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink, when the sound of footsteps behind you caught your attention. Without hesitation, you glanced over your shoulder and saw Spencer standing there. Instinctively, you turned to face him, not wanting to give him the chance to sneak up on you.

"Hello, Spencer," you greeted with a warm smile, trying to mask the sudden nervous energy that surged through you.

"Y/N," he nodded, stepping a little closer. "You know, maybe we should team up. Might make things easier," he added with a smirk, his costume and demeanor making him look every bit the psycho he was dressed as. The sight of him like that sent your heart racing, and to your dismay, you found yourself stuttering.

"Wh–what? You, an–an–me?"

Spencer just laughed, the sound low and amused. "Ghostface and Patrick Bateman? We’d make quite the team."

You chuckled nervously, trying to shake off the butterflies in your stomach. "Oh, hah, yeah, you’re right. So, um, who’s our first victim?" you asked, playing along with the joke.

Spencer rubbed his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. "Hmm… I’d say we start with the Men in Black. Take out the authority first."

You couldn’t help it—the laugh that erupted from you was genuine and loud, a real cackle that caught you off guard. You quickly covered your mouth, embarrassed by how loud it was.

But before you could fully hide, Spencer reached out and gently grabbed your wrist, lowering your hand. "Don’t cover up," he said softly, his eyes locking with yours. "I like your laugh."

His touch sent a warm shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the playful atmosphere shifted into something heavier, something unspoken hanging between you both. You smiled, the blush creeping up your cheeks, unsure of how to respond to the sudden intimacy.

"Thanks," you murmured, your heart thudding in your chest, the moment feeling far more charged than a simple Halloween joke should have been.

You cleared your throat, turning back to focus on your drink, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "So, um, how do we take them out?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation light and playful.

Spencer tapped his chin in mock thought before flashing you a mischievous smirk. "Let's make it a game," he said, his voice low, adding to the playful tension between you. "We have to turn off their glowing necklaces without them noticing. If you’re successful, you get a point. Most points by the end of the night wins."

You grinned at the idea, nodding in agreement. "Alright, you’re on."

And just like that, the game began. You and Spencer spent the rest of the evening sneaking around the party, laughing and conspiring together like mischievous children. You’d catch each other’s eye from across the room, silently plotting, and then spring into action, working to stealthily turn off people’s glowing necklaces without them noticing.

Every time one of you was successful, you’d stifle giggles, slipping back into the crowd with a triumphant grin. The whole dynamic between you and Spencer had shifted into something new—something light, fun, and undeniably flirtatious. Your shared laughter echoed through the room, drawing the attention of the other guests.

It didn’t take long for people to notice the change. Derek raised an eyebrow at the two of you, watching as you and Spencer darted around with smiles and whispered jokes. JJ and Emily exchanged knowing glances, clearly curious about this unexpected shift in your relationship. Even Penelope caught on, throwing you a sly look that said she’d definitely be asking you about this later.

Everyone seemed to be wondering the same thing: Since when did these two get along so well?

But you didn’t care. For the first time in a long while, you were having fun—real fun—with Spencer. And, despite the attention from everyone else, you weren’t ready for it to stop.

—

As the night wrapped up, the energy was still buzzing. Everyone had enjoyed themselves, and the party had been a huge success. You felt a sense of pride as you waved goodbye to your guests, making sure everyone had a designated driver or had called a cab. Once the last person had left, you closed the door, feeling the peaceful silence settle in.

But the quiet didn’t last long.

Penelope wasted no time, immediately bombarding you with questions, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Okay, spill! What was that? You and Boy Wonder sneaking around, giggling like a couple of high schoolers? Since when are you and Spencer all… flirty?!"

You laughed, still riding the high of the evening, but you could see the concern in Penelope’s eyes. She leaned in closer, her expression softening as she lowered her voice. "Look, I loved seeing you have fun tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that," she admitted, "but I just want you to be careful. Spencer and Eli seem very happy together, and I don’t want you getting hurt."

You hesitated, knowing she was right. "I know, Pen," you sighed. "It’s just… it was harmless fun, you know? Nothing serious."

Penelope gave you a look, the one that said she wasn’t buying it. "I just don’t want you caught up in something messy," she said softly. "You deserve someone who’s all in, not someone who’s already got someone else."

You nodded, appreciating her concern, but at the same time, you couldn’t shake the way Spencer had looked at you tonight, the way you’d both laughed together like nothing else mattered.

Meanwhile, Spencer drove home in silence, not having had a single drink all night. His mind was still racing from the party, the memories of sneaking around with you and laughing filling his head. The evening had been… unexpected. He couldn’t deny that he’d had fun, maybe more fun than he’d had in a while.

When he pulled into the parking garage, he noticed Eli’s car wasn’t there. He assumed they were still out, maybe spending the night at their friend’s place. It wasn’t unusual for Eli to stay out late when they were with friends, and Spencer didn’t give it much thought as he unlocked the front door and walked inside.

He moved through the apartment quietly, heading down the hall to the bedroom. But what he didn’t expect—what stopped him dead in his tracks—was the sight that greeted him when he opened the bedroom door.

There, in his bed, was Eli. And they weren’t alone.

It took a moment for Spencer’s brain to register what he was seeing, but when it did, the shock hit him like a tidal wave. The person with Eli—the one tangled up in the sheets, very clearly entwined with his partner—was none other than Shane, the same person who had taken you on a date.

His heart pounded in his chest as the weight of the betrayal sank in, the scene before him twisting his stomach into knots.

Shane looked up at the sound of the door opening, pulling away from Eli and quickly covering both of them with the blankets, their face contorting into a mix of shock and confusion.

“What the hell?” Shane yelled, voice panicked.

That finally snapped Spencer out of his state of shock. “What the hell? What the hell! Get out of my fucking bed!” he screamed, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

“Your bed?” Shane’s face instantly fell, their eyes darting to Eli, whose expression was now cold, almost indifferent. “Are you married?” Shane asked, their voice trembling with fear and disbelief.

Eli scoffed, pushing themselves out of bed, making no effort to cover up. “No,” they said with a lazy shrug, “this is Spencer.”

“And who is Spencer?” Shane asked, sounding utterly heartbroken.

Spencer’s voice trembled with emotion as he stood frozen in the doorway, tears welling up in his eyes. “Yeah, Eli... who is Spencer?”

Eli rolled their eyes, casually pulling on a robe, unfazed by the entire situation. “My partner,” they said dismissively, as if it meant nothing.

“What?” Shane cried out, turning to Spencer, tears streaming down their face. “I am so sorry, I had no idea. We—we’ve been seeing each other for weeks.” Shane’s voice cracked with guilt and devastation.

Spencer felt like he should have been more hurt by the revelation, but the truth was, Shane’s emotional investment was far greater than his own. He saw now why Eli had been so suddenly attentive and kind—there had been someone else.

“It’s—it’s fine,” Spencer muttered, running a shaky hand through his hair, trying to keep it together. “I’ll, um, I’ll stay somewhere else tonight. Eli, let’s talk later, okay?”

Eli just nodded, entirely unaffected. “Cool.”

With that, Spencer grabbed a few things and left the apartment, feeling numb and hollow.

—

Back at your place, you and Penelope were still sitting on the couch, talking about the party, when there was a sudden knock at the door. You exchanged a curious look, not expecting anyone else to stop by at this hour.

Penelope shot up, tiptoeing over to the door and peeking through the peephole. She gasped loudly before rushing back to you, whispering in a hurried panic, “It’s Spencer!” And then, without any warning, she dashed off to her bedroom, the unmistakable sound of the door locking echoing through the apartment.

You let out a long sigh, standing up and making your way over to the door, wondering what could have brought Spencer here so late. You expected him to say he’d forgotten his phone or maybe just needed something small.

But when you opened the door, Spencer didn’t say a word.

He didn’t ask for anything, didn’t explain himself. Instead, he stepped forward, his eyes heavy with emotion, and before you could even react, he reached out, grabbing your face gently but with a sense of urgency. Then, without hesitation, Spencer pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both desperate and full of longing.

The world seemed to stop in that moment, your heart pounding as the warmth of his lips consumed you, every thought and question vanishing into the kiss.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[thewidowsledger]

Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 12: A Room of Your Own | 5.2k

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, bad writing, slow burn, horny thoughts, gun pointing (?), bully Yelena (?), is fluff a warning? If yes, then what the fluff?

Author's Note: Scene reference from the movie Black Widow👀 I had to watch it so I can be able to write the scene. And, and, and the mascot was from my own experience, lol. Not proofread so if you see some stupid mistakes, no you didn't.

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⧗

“Fuck.” You mutter to yourself as soon as you're sure that she's out of the room. It feels like you’ve been holding your breath since you felt Natasha close to you and now you're gasping for air. You immediately slapped your cheek over and over, trying to remove the thoughts out of your mind.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is wrong.” You feel your head being light, remembering her words.

“You can take it.”

“Just like that.”

“Good girl.”

You took a pillow and slammed it on your face with both of your hands and screamed at it, it stayed at your face for a couple of seconds before you slowly removed it.

You squeezed your thighs shut to relieve the aching feeling between your legs, “Oh God, forgive me for I have sinned.”

“Y/N?” A call coming out your door freaked you out, you immediately shuffled and got out of your bed, you ran towards the door as you put your clothes over your freshly cleaned up wound.

You peeked revealing Maria outside, “Oh hey.”

“Here's your food, there are actually stocks of food in your room but Natasha told the chef to have some soup made for you.” She said carrying a tray of soup and water. “You okay?” She asked as she saw your blushing form just staring at the tray.

“Oh yeah, shit t-thanks. I mean…” you winced as you opened the door for her to come in and immediately but carefully took the tray from her. You put it on the side of your bed and walked back towards her.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you, “So? How are you?” She asked crossing her arms, offering you a comforting smile

“I…” you shrugged.

"I know things are hard for you...complicated," Maria empathized. "But please don't sleep naked on the tile floor again, Y/N." She chuckled, as did you.

She noticed your nervous fidgeting and slowly began walking towards the door, with you following closely behind, crossing your arms and rubbing your arm.

"She was really worried about you," Maria declared as she looked at you.

You nodded slowly, recognizing the depth of Natasha's concern. Your heart wanted to jump out of its place. But you actually hadn't meant to cause her any worry, and now a plan began to take shape in your mind. You thought about making it up to Natasha for all she had done for you. Just as Maria started to leave your room, you hastily called out to her.

"I uh, Maria," you began, "Is it possible for me to go into the kitchen later? I'd like to do some cooking, or something." You cursed yourself for being so awkward.

“Oh…” she smiled, “Sure, I’ll tell the chef. Finish your food first and you can have the kitchen all by yourself.”

⧗

You quickly finished the remainder of your soup and carried the tray with you as you made your way out of your room.

With the tray in your grasp, you navigated through the halls, making your way towards the kitchen. As you walked, the sound of your footsteps echoed slightly in the deserted corridor, as if the emptiness itself was listening to your every step.

Finally, you arrived at the kitchen that Maria had pointed out to you a day ago. The kitchen was one large expansive room, without any doors or dividers. The space was seamless and open, allowing the air to flow freely between the workstations and appliances.

You cautiously stepped inside, placing the tray in the sink. You took a moment to survey the kitchen, your hands slightly fidgeting from nerves. You had initially planned to bake, but now that you are faced with the vastness of the kitchen, you actually don't know what to do now as you feel a little overwhelmed.

The kitchen was immaculate, the stainless steel counters gleaming under the warm glow of the overhead lights. Rows of pristine cookware, pots, and pans hung from hooks on the backsplash, and the various appliances were meticulously arranged on the counters.

“Wow…I only had a microwave in my apartment.” You muttered to yourself.

You took a moment to examine the cabinets, quietly searching for the ingredients you needed for what you planned to bake. Opening each one, you looked closely, taking mental note of what you had and what you still needed to find. Then, your eyes landed on the pantry, located to the left of the large fridge.

You entered the pantry, which was another expansive room brimming with ingredients.

“Wow…” your jaw literally dropped as you took a good look around the pantry, you couldn't help but marvel at the variety of items before you. It seemed like a mini grocery store!

One by one, you managed to retrieve everything you needed. The ingredients in your arms grew, until eventually you had everything you needed, including flour, sugar, chocolate chips, eggs, and butter. With your arms full, you carefully walked out of the pantry.

You began your cooking project by setting all the ingredients out on a clean countertop. The measuring cups, spoons, bowls, and baking sheets were placed strategically so you could easily access them. As you arranged everything, a small wave of overwhelm washed over you as you looked at the materials before you. You were anxious that you may accidentally damage or ruin them in some way.

You measured each ingredient, the aroma of the dough began to fill the room, blending the scents of sugar and butter. With each cup and teaspoon, you mixed the ingredients in a large bowl, creating a smooth and creamy base.

You had finally completed the cookie dough and were now preparing to bake it. However, in order to do so, you needed to find the parchment paper, which was nowhere to be seen.

“Where did I put it?”

You were frantically searching for it, knowing that you had just placed it in one place together with others. You began to worry that you misplaced it. Suddenly, you heard a voice behind you. “Looking for this?”

Startled, you whipped around to find Yelena, sitting casually on the countertop, holding the parchment paper you had been looking for. Your clumsy hands accidentally knocked over some of the ingredients, causing it to crash to the ground.

You immediately and instinctively crouched down to fix the mess you made, Yelena smirked down at the sight. She toyed with the parchment paper as you cleaned in front of her.

Yelena hummed a nonsensical tune, her feet idly swaying and occasionally coming close to your head, almost purposely. However, you tried not to let it get to you and refrained from showing any reaction. Deep inside, you couldn't help but hope that Natasha would appear, as she usually did when her sister was around, to rescue you from this frustrating situation.

“Yelena.”

Yelena turned, a smirk creeping in her face. She tilted her head, “Hey Riri.”

Maria's expression toward Yelena remained emotionless. She maintained a stoic demeanor, silently observing Yelena's actions and behavior. “You know where to find your sister.”

“I always do.” Yelena chuckled as she leaped off the countertop and nonchalantly let the parchment paper fall to the ground as you focused on cleaning up. Without a pause, she promptly walked out of the kitchen.

When Yelena was finally out of sight Maria immediately inquired if you're okay to which you nodded.

Maria, noticing the lingering tension Yelena left in the air, she turned to you with a sympathetic expression and softly apologized for Yelena's behavior.

"I'm sorry about Yelena," she said gently. "She can be quite...a lot."

Sensing your lack of response, Maria quickly shifted the conversation and her eyes landed at the countertop, seeing the dough you just made ready to be baked.

“You know, that looks really delicious,” she said, her tone shifting to a more casual one.

Her words were meant to ease the tension, hoping to alleviate any discomfort you might still be feeling. Her words, though simple, had a profound effect, causing your cheeks to blush. A small, shy smile graced your lips as you gratefully accepted her compliment.

“Thanks,” you said as you stood with the ingredients on your arms. “I just need to bake them, can I ask for a hand? I don't know how your oven works.”

Upon hearing your request for assistance, a warm smile spread across Maria's face. “Sure, whatever you need.”

⧗

"I know you’re out there.” Yelena, still concealing her presence, speaks out, her voice carrying a hint of challenge as she carefully closes the door behind her and pulled the gun behind her jeans.

Natasha, unfazed, responds calmly, she leaned back to her office chair, "I know you know I’m out here."

Yelena cautiously steps forward, her eyes scanning the room carefully. She picks her way through the room, avoiding any objects that might make noise or hinder her movement.

"So, are we going to talk like grown-ups?" Natasha said after a lack of response from her sister.

“Is that what we are?” Yelena shot back, finally revealing her sister who's sitting in her office chair, gun pointed in her direction.

The room is tense, their eyes locked in a deadly staring contest. Natasha stood from her chair and circled the desk, walking forward, her gun pointed directly at Yelena.

“Put it down before I make you.” Yelena said with a stern voice, she walked backwards when she saw Natasha slowly begin to advance. She kept her gun pointed precisely at her sister.

“You put yours down.” Natasha replied, keeping her gun trained on Yelena, her footsteps are measured and steady, her gaze still locked on the blonde.

As Yelena takes a step backward, she slightly stumbles. She falters momentarily but quickly regains her footing.

“Watch your step.”

Yelena responded with a smirk.

With each step, the distance closes between them, their body tense and ready for any sudden moves from each other.

In a quick, coordinated movement, both Natasha and Yelena switch their guns with each other, passing them between their hands while still maintaining their defensive stances.

The switch is swift and seamless, a testament to the skill and familiarity the sisters have with each other's movements. Both continue to watch each other intently, weapons now held in the other's hand. The air crackles with tension, neither of them willing to back down.

Natasha, in a split second, reaches out and touches Yelena’s gun and the unexpected touch is enough to send Yelena straight into attack mode. She quickly launches herself at Natasha, slamming her sister towards the wall.

Natasha winces, the impact on her back momentarily catching her off guard. But Natasha was quick to counterattack; she grabbed Yelena’s jacket, and pushed her harshly, she then yanked her towards the cabinets. In a single swift motion, Natasha slams her sister’s back against the table below, pinning her firmly by the jaw.

“Stay down, stay down!”

Despite being in a disadvantaged position, Yelena makes quick work of the situation. With her sharp and agile movements, she sneaks her hand behind her and grabs a stack of thick papers from the table. Before Natasha can react, Yelena brings the papers down hard against her sister's head.

The unexpected blow sends Natasha staggering back, her grip on Yelena momentarily loosening. Yelena uses this to her advantage and quickly stands from being pinned.

Natasha and Yelena continue eyeing each other, both of them are breathing heavily and are refusing to back down. The tension in the room is palpable. After a long moment, Natasha breaks the standoff and walks back to her desk, she winced as she touched her side slightly.

“How's mama?” Natasha asks in a detached tone as if they didn't just almost kill each other seconds ago.

Yelena can't hold back a smile. The mention of their mother seems to bring a bit of tenderness and excitement into Yelena's voice. She straightens her clothes after the fight, pausing to collect her thoughts before she speaks.

“She uhm,” Yelena started fidgeting, “Mama’s fine, she's okay and uhh…she misses you so much, like she always cooks your favorite when she misses you.”

Yelena's excitement was almost palpable as she shared this tidbit of information. On the other hand, Natasha's stoic expression gave away nothing of her emotions. She reached for a beer, uncapping it. The sound of the cap snapping off echoed in as her sister continued to ramble.

“And papa, he’s—”

“I only asked for mama did I?” Her response was crisp and biting, a clear indication that she had no interest in hearing about their father.

Yelena was visibly taken aback by Natasha's abruptness. She watched in silence as her sister finished the beer in one smooth gulp, setting the empty bottle down with a firm tap on the hardwood desk.

She huffed, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the room. Her voice was slightly mocking as she made a comment about Natasha's setup.

"Quite domesticated here," she began, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Got yourself a wife cooking downstairs, huh?"

Natasha's cold gaze flicked up to meet Yelena's, her expression hardening at the mention of you. She interrupted her sister sternly, knowing how this conversation would go.

"Enough."

But Yelena didn't relent, continuing to push her sister's buttons.

"All cutesy," she began, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Bringing poison into this house."

Natasha's patience had reached its limit. Her eyes flashed and her jaw tightened. In a swift, fluid movement, she slammed the jagged pieces of the broken glass onto the table, the sound of it making a loud thud against the hard surface. Her voice was low and sharp as she shouted at her sister.

Yelena didn't expect the sudden move, and she flinched momentarily.

"I said, enough." She emphasized each word, her fingers digging into the desk, the fragments of which were now scattered across the desk and the floor.

“Get out, I have a meeting to go to.”

Yelena let out a huff, her neutral demeanor faltering. She started walking backwards, still facing her sister.

"I don't understand you," she said, shaking her head slightly. "All of this for a woman you just met weeks ago."

She began to make her way out of the room. As she reached the threshold, she turned back to look at her sister, her expression firm. In a quieter voice, she added, "Don't drag yourself into this."

And with that, Natasha was left alone in her office, shattered glasses, scattered papers everywhere. The silence was thick and heavy. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the chaos that surrounded her. She let out a sigh, running her hands through her hair, the stress of the situation starting to manifest physically. As the clock ticked by, counting down the minutes until her meeting, Natasha took a deep breath to steady herself.

⧗

You had just finished plating the cookies, neatly arranging them on a tray. The thought of finding Natasha to give her the baked goods brought a small smile to your face. However, your thoughts were interrupted when you turned and saw Yelena leaning against the counter. Her sudden appearance made you jump slightly, the familiar feeling of uneasiness creeping over you.

Yelena chuckled seeing your reaction. She watched you intently, her expression amused. It was clear she enjoyed startling you and making you feel uncomfortable, as always

“Looking for Natasha?” She asked as if she could read your mind, you nodded not daring to look at her.

“I know where she is,” remembering that her sister just told her that she has some meeting to attend to. A smirk creeped into her face as she thought about you making some surprise visit to that meeting.

“2nd floor, last room at the left hall.”

You smile slightly at her and your eyes flickered as she told you where her sister is, the excitement evident in you.

“Thanks,” you said, slightly stuttering due to your eagerness to leave. “You can have some if you want.”

With the tray of cookies in your hands, you began slowly making your way past Yelena. A wave of disdain flooded over her. She hated how genuine you were, showing kindness even after she had been so tough on you. No matter how hard time she gave you, you still managed to make small genuine acts towards her and she hated it.

She hated you.

Yelena, despite her best efforts to stay aloof, found herself drawn to the freshly baked cookies sitting on the counter. The aroma was irresistible. Her pride told her not to take one, but her stomach says otherwise. In a swift motion, she picked one up and quickly stuffed it into her mouth, the sweet taste only adding to her inner conflict. It was so good that she hated you more.

⧗

As you make your way down the hall towards where Natasha is, your heart thumps in your chest. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach, each step bringing you closer. As you approach the hall, you mentally rehearse what to say.

“This is for you,” you say aloud, testing the words out. Then, you jokingly chide yourself, “What? No greetings? That's so disrespectful of you Y/N.”

“I baked cookies for you,” you tried again with a sigh on how awkward you sound.

Caught up in your internal monologue, you continue to walk and rehearse your lines, blissfully unaware of your surroundings. The door suddenly opens under your touch, and you find yourself standing in the doorway of Natasha's office.

Shit. You stop short, your eyes swept across the room. Not only is Natasha present, but there are also four other men in there, all of whom look like hardened criminals. They were in the middle of a meeting, and your unexpected entrance caught everyone's attention. Silence filled the air as their gaze landed on you, and you felt completely out of place, standing in the doorway with the tray of cookies in your hands.

Instantly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. All the men in the room quickly stood up, their expressions neutral as they drew their weapons and aimed them directly at you as if they were trained to do it. The sound of multiple guns cocking filled your ears, and you instinctively froze, the tray of cookies trembling in your hands and your eyes started to get covered with tears. You thought this is it for you.

Natasha shoots up from her chair. “Fuck,” she muttered enough for everyone to hear, “Don’t you dare fucking shoot her! Out! Now!”

Your shoulders jump at the sharpness of the order, you know she has your protection in mind, though. You're on the verge of crying while apologizing for barging in on the meeting, but the men in attendance also jump to their feet, instantly bowing courteously to Natasha before hastily making their exit giving you a wide berth as they open the other door to her office and file out.

Natasha's eyes were locked onto you, concern etched across her face.

“Fuck…” a cursed escaped her lips. “Baby…” And without realizing it, a term of endearment slipped out this time. Natasha could see the shock on your face and the tremble in your hands holding the tray of cookies. She gently took the tray from you and set it down on the long table in the meeting room.

“Hey,” she called, holding your face.

Your words came out in a shaky breath, your voice quivering slightly. “I'm so sorry Natasha,” you said, the guilt and embarrassment evident. “I didn't mean to…” You tried to hold back the tears, but the sobs began to take over, your body shaking slightly.

You managed to get the words out between the sobs, explaining, “I just wanted to give you these cookies I made for you. And...and your sister...she told me you were here…” Your voice sounded like a small child complaining.

“Eta suka.” (That bitch) she whispered.

“I’m sorry, you weren't supposed to see that.” She said softly, bringing your head on her shoulder. You caught a whiff of her perfume as you nuzzled closer to her neck.

“You baked this for me?” she asked, caught off guard, your shy nod confirmed and a small smile curled on her lips.

“Why don't we get out and enjoy them?” You nodded again, this time with a genuine smile blossoming on your face.

⧗

As you and Natasha walked side by side, she casually looped her arm around your waist, making you feel safe and secure. In her other hand, she held the tray of cookies.

Suddenly, you were startled to see a guard carrying a large gun standing in front of you. Surprised, you looked up at him, but Natasha quickly intervened, asking him to step aside.

She turned to you and explained apologetically, “Sorry, it's security.” You nodded, understanding the need for precautions in her line of work.

“Don't you have an ongoing meeting?”

Natasha simply shrugged and responded nonchalantly, "They can wait."

“I’m really sorry, you should've finished whatever you're discussing if I didn't barge in—”

As you began to apologize once again, Natasha quickly reassured you, cutting off your apology before you could finish. Holding your hand, she gently squeezed it to comfort you.

"Y/N, it's okay." She continued walking with you, leading the way towards the tranquil garden of the manor.

Your eyes widened in awe as you took in the breathtaking view of the lake in front of you. "Wow," you breathed out, captivated by the beauty of your surroundings.

Natasha gestured for you to take a seat beside her in the soft grass. She removed her leather jacket and laid it down on the ground, creating a soft surface for you to sit comfortably.

As she did so, you inadvertently caught a glimpse of her biceps flexing. To your surprise, you could see that her arms were adorned with intricate tattoos, the ink dancing across her skin. But there was also a long, slender scar running through one of the tattoos, partially concealed by the ink.

The sight of it caused your breath to hitch in your throat, your gaze lingering on her skin and her strong arms.

You quickly shifted your gaze, your mind raced as you hoped she hadn't noticed the way your eyes had lingered on her arms.

Looking away, you redirected your attention to the serene lake in front of you, the cool breeze gently ruffling your hair and bringing some relief to your flushed face.

The two of you sat down together, she put the tray of cookies in front of you and you on the other hand was still fascinated at the view of the lake, your mouth slightly opened. Natasha couldn't help but smile at you, she grabbed a cookie from the tray which caught your attention.

“So?” You asked, “How was it?”

“You should try your own cookie.” She said, winking at you and you did, you grabbed one and took a bite.

“It's heavenly,” she commented, you looked at her with your brows furrowed.

“Heavenly?” You laughed, “What are you a poet?” You said between giggles.

For a few moments, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you sat together in the garden. It wasn't an awkward silence per se, but rather a calm and peaceful atmosphere that surrounded you both.

Your eyes wandered idly, scanning the surroundings until they landed on a beautiful rose bush nearby. A sense of wonder filled you as you spotted a single red rose in full bloom. Excited, you pointed at it and exclaimed with a childlike enthusiasm.

"Look, a rose! Like the ones on your shoulder!”

As soon as the words left your lips, you immediately realized your faux pas and hastily apologized.

“I'm sorry,” you said remorsefully. “I think they're cool you know, your tattoos.”

Natasha looked at the roses, not providing an immediate response. Feeling even more embarrassed, you repeated your apology with a pout, feeling awkward.

Natasha chuckled at your adorable reaction and reassured you, “It's fine, Y/N.”

After a moment of silence, you found yourself rambling again. Curiosity tinged your voice as you mused aloud,

“So it's true, mob bosses…gangsters or whatever…they all have tattoos on their upper bodies, huh?”

Natasha hummed, “Yeah, I guess they do,”

A teasing smile tugged at your lips as you jokingly inquired, “You think I'd look good with tattoos too? Look, I have scars now too.” Natasha's eyes met yours, and a soft chuckle escaped her lips in response to your question.

Your heart skipped a beat as her laughter filled the air. The mere sound of her amusement sent a wave of warmth rushing through you, causing a flutter in your chest. It was a small victory, earning her laughter, but one that felt significant nonetheless.

“You silly girl,” she remarked as she took another cookie from the tray.

“It's an initiation rites,” she started, you shifted and sat properly beside her ready to listen to whatever she's going to say.

“I never wanted to have it, my mother told my father that it should stop with him.” She pauses, gathering her thoughts, before continuing, “The curse of our blood.”

That line just made your skin crawl.

“I saw how people looked at my father, all the scars in his body? I don't wanna be seen that way.” Her voice trembles slightly.

“I woke up,” she shifted slightly, “in a chair, I was tied up. I was 15 when I had it, my father slowly scarred my skin while I was begging him to stop. I was shouting for my mom but she never came.” She said it nonchalantly as she recounts the harrowing experience.

Your heart wrenched in your chest as you listened to her.

“From then I had to accept my fate.” A hint of bitterness tugged at the corners of Natasha's lips. “But that didn't mean I had to carry it on with me.”

Her eyes darted to the ground, studying the blades of grass that lay beneath her feet. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing.

“I managed our business for 4 years and left to start my own. I haven't seen my parents since, only Yelena.” She looked at you, placing her hands at her back so she could lean on them and she straightened her legs forward. “What about you?”

“Oh, me?” You asked, pointing at yourself using the cookie.

“Yes, silly.” She giggled at you.

“I don't wanna make it about me though, you’re sharing yours—”

“Please tell me, I wanna know.” She cut you off.

You fell silent for a moment, collecting your thoughts and steeling yourself recalling your past. You swallowed the last piece of cookie in your hand before you spoke.

“Well, let's start with the fact that I never got to see my parents,” you began casually. “My mom died giving birth...to me and my dad left my mom before I was even born. So I grew up with my grandparents, but when they passed away, I had to live by myself.”

As you continued, your hands instinctively sought comfort, and you started to hug your legs tightly.

“My aunt took my grandparents' house and decided to sell it,” you huffed, your voice laced with bitterness. “They gave me my part of it because my mom’s gone and yeah, of course, I get to have her share in that.

“I started working at 17 to pay for my school," you said, recounting your early attempts at earning money. "I did everything, I worked at a laundromat, waitress, hostess, janitress, mascot…”

“Mascot?” Natasha's curiosity piqued, as she immediately asked.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you nodded and explained, “Yeah, there was this pizzeria that was having their opening and for a month I was half human and half pizza.”

“Wow…” Natasha laughed, “That’s funny…I mean no offense and respect to that because that's a difficult job.”

“Yeah, it is ‘coz they stink with all the sweat you know, ugh.” You rolled your eyes and made a gagging noise that earned another laugh from the redhead.

“Do you know how mascots blink?” you asked, your chin lifted in with a grin on your face.

“Ooh interesting, how?”

"When I did it, there's actually this thing in the hands of the mascot that whenever you close the hands," you lifted your left hand and formed a balled fist, demonstrating the mechanism of the mascot, “the mascot also blinks.”

“Ooh, I thought—”

You quickly guessed her thought, laughing slightly, “That it blinks when the person inside blinks?”

“I know it sounds so stupid but yeah.” She admitted with a sheepish grin.

You both couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea, to the point that both of you had to lay back down almost dying in laughter.

When the both of you finally calm down, Natasha's question broke the silence, and her curious tone filled the air as she asked, facing you as both of you were laying down, “So you went to college?”

“I did.”

Natasha then continued her line of questioning, “What happened? Did you finish?”

“I did. I was late for 2 years. Decided to have a leap year so I can save money for college. I took theater arts and when I finished I moved to New York with all my savings, hoping to fulfill my dream, you know...every kid's dream, everybody's dream, Broadway. But things didn't go as planned. But…I still had planned my future and I did plan some options. We need some safety net y’know?”

“Planned some options?” Natasha asked, slightly curious at the thought.

“Yeah.” You nodded, you can actually feel the grass and the dirt mixing with your hairstrand.

“And the plan is?”

“My plan is…one, to get a degree, finish college and I already did that. And I have two options if my degree doesn't work out for me.” You paused, your tongue darting out to wet your lips before continuing.

“One, be a stripper or two, be someone's trophy wife. And that's how I landed on Valkyrie's, option one.” You finally turned to look at her but she was already staring at you, your eyes widened and immediately got up trying to cover up the blush creeping in your face.

Natasha slowly sat beside you, your heart skipped a beat. You felt her presence as she reached for your hand, gently pulling you to your feet.

"I gotta show you something."

You grabbed her leather jacket and left the empty tray of cookies. The two of you walked back towards the manor, passing by a couple of armed guards who stood watch.

Natasha led you towards the large hall, her grip on your hand firm and sure. As she opened the double doors, you were immediately struck by the empty room that greeted you.

The space was spacious, with mirrors lining the walls and a solitary pole placed in the center. The polished wooden floor shone under the dim lighting, creating a subtle and intimate atmosphere.

A shy smile played on Natasha's lips as she spoke, looking directly at you. Her voice was soft, almost sheepish as she confessed.

“I still remember that dream of yours being a ballerina. So I had this room made just for you.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “Natasha, this…” Your voice trailed off for a moment as you gathered your thoughts, your emotions overwhelming you.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, your voice cracking slightly as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks.

You don't need to be scared now.

No one will stop you.

No one will threaten you to know your place.

Because right now, at this moment, you do know your place.

You stepped forward and leaned towards Natasha, you gently planted a soft kiss on her cheek, your lips lingering for just a fraction of a second.

Secrets Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

[pippin-katz]

The Awardist - Nicholas Galitzine & Taylor Zakhar Perez

I have to write down the best bits and record my thoughts while listening to this because I am completely losing my mind over what is our first real interview with the boys that was recorded in real time.

27:55 - right off the bat we got a great inside joke/reference from the host that had me cackle

28:19 - taylor being happy to see their faces and nicholas immediately shutting him down like "well i'm not happy to see taylor's face"

28:40 - taylor joking about putting a post-in note over nick's face lmfao

29:30 - the way they don't want to talk over each other, it's giving alex's bedroom flashbacks

29:40 - nick being like "oh! oh, it's good!" when dipping into the online response when the movie released lmfao 😆

30:33 - the silence following the social media question where they were apparently nodding followed by taylor saying they were texting each other like "mate" "mate" back and forth

31:20 - THEY TALKED ABOUT THE SIGNING WARS

31:44 - nicholas calling taylor "this little fucker" had me dying cause me and @meraki-yao were literally referring to him as that in our conversation on ig yesterday

32:00 - nicholas genuinely asking taylor "what possessed you to do this?"; it's giving storage closet in the children's hospital vibes when henry's like "why do you dislike me?"

33:04 - "take it nick" immediately upon being asked the dense question regarding fans reacting to their portrayals of henry and alex, and the way that nicholas laughs and stutters makes me think that taylor totally did that on purpose to mess with him lmfao

34:00 - taylor stopping to talk to fans regardless of where he is or where he's going and specfically mentioning how meaningful it was that people have said *TW* they were contemplating suicide when they read the book/watched the movie and that it helped them 🥺

35:40 - the host referred to the film as "a coming out story", which i don't really agree with as a label because the coming out portion is an added piece of their relationship as two public figures, but their love is the actual story

36:40 - nicholas referring to the film as "wholesome and funny" made me smile so much because it truly is wholesome

37:18 - not the host making the "top to bottom" joke 😭

37:58 - nicholas and taylor have talked about their friendship with each other and how they instantly clicked; nick knew within a few minutes of rehearsal that taylor was "his buddy" 🥺

38:41 - catch me squaring up with everyone who has made nicholas self conscious and self deprecating about doing so much intimacy work on the screen that he refers to it as "basically his thing" like that's all he's recognized for; i am so ready to punch some motherfuckers 😡

39:10 - "it's so fun now, seeing my mate at all these awards and stuff"; catch me fucking crying

39:24 - not taylor misremembering the "nicholas or joey" question as "who was the better kisser"; he totally combined the "is nicholas a good kisser" question with the "who has your heart tonight" question

40:05 - taylor talking about matthew's background in theatre and how they got to actually rehearse with each other; i will never stop being insanely grateful that matthew is a theatre guy

40:55 - the way i said "oh my god" out loud because i was so excited by the question

41:14 - improvised the "physicality" of the store room; i.e. they just fell on top of each other and clamored around 😂

41:32 - the way i literally gasped so hard that i started coughing when nicholas called taylor "tay", i am not even fucking joking, that was so fucking cute 😭

43:42 - fucking wheezed upon realizing where the question going

44:02 - the knowing way taylor was like "i will take this one" lmfao

45:10 - not me going so red from second hand embarrassment 🫣

45:44 - taylor bringing the jockstrap that nicholas wears in bottoms, and nicholas immediately adding "i won't even go into mary & george" 😂

47:51 - taylor finishing nicholas' sentence about matthew's direction for the cake scene; sharing a braincell lol

48:36 - taylor's dog passed away the night of the first day of filming like wow, that fucking sucks 🥺😭

49:05 - "everyone's looking at me with these sad eyes" made me so sad but then taylor said "do you want some tea?" in a terrible british accent lmfao

49:50 - nicholas complimenting and boosting taylor's performance while having such a hard time emotionally 🥺

50:49 - taylor bringing up running through the museum; i can hear the smile in his voice while talking about it 😭

51:28 - they filmed the kensington palace fight and the red room the week after nicholas got covid

52:40 - oh my god, the way you can hear nick grinning as he throws taylor under the bus for the sequel question 😂

53:30 - taylor wants a second book to base the sequel off of

54:03 - taylor used they/them pronouns for casey!! see? he knows, it was totally nerves

55:20 - it felt like it was over too soon, i desperately need more of them PLEASE 😭

This is the greatest thing that's happened in like, a month for me lmfao I am literally begging for more people to interview the boys about RWRB, I am so fucking desperate for more content of the two of them together. They are everything to me 🥺

Thanks for reading!! If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

[kissoulie]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒

𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧

— NSFW, MDNI. being in love with soul ♡

warnings: not proofread, odd amount of minecraft references, implied that they met underage but all physical activity happens when both are adults, idol!soul, gender neutral for the most part

nsfw: fem-body in mind but can be read as gn (imo) mild voyeurism, some roughness, overall pretty tame

a/n: i wrote this while doing a harry potter marathon so it's not the best 😭 might make it a series tbh, one movie = one being in love with [piwon]. joking, mostly. work has been ass this week ngl and i work again tmrw buttttttt i will be able to dedicate at least 5hrs to delusion after i pick up some conditioner 🫶 who knows maybe i'll lock in and get it done by the 1st (i probably won't)

1. first meetings

soul is the type of person who would be your friend first. one of your very best friends, actually. if you aren't childhood friends, you would be someone he met by chance. at a store, cafe, a park. no matter what, you would be the one to approach him. striking up a conversation about an interest you both share. soul would take a liking to you immediately, opening up gradually, meeting you as often as his schedule allows. he would eventually have to introduce you to the members, and start bringing you over to the dorm. he's getting recognized. going out was becoming a chore for both of you. besides, you've been friends for a while, it's only natural the next step is hanging out in each other's personal space.

after years of your bond, soul finds both of you in his bed after a long day of practice. he wasn't sure what was up wirh you. normally, you wouldn't insist on seeing him after practice. you knew he was tired. for an hour, you'd been clinging to him, head tucked into the crook of his neck. he didn't need words from you. yet, anyways. he just needed to know you're okay. "my treasure," he whispers, "what's wrong?"

your fingers tighten their hold on his shirt. those soft eyes of his, they melt you. "i just had a bad day."

mhmmmm. soul's hand finds itself pressed against your lower back, pulling you onto his lap with ease. "what else?"

"i love you, that's what else." you see soul's expression twitch ever so slightly, brows furrowing before he evens his gaze with your teary one, "i love you too."

2. commitment

life with soul is bliss. he's an extremely attentive lover. he already knows you inside out, and like everyone you change; he changes with you. he blossoms with you. soul loves you so much, he becomes the best version of himself. he doesn't even mean to. all he knows is that you know perfectly how to soothe his fears, how to celebrate with him, how to make him feel loved. he will never ask for more. he's the kind of boyfriend who brings you things that remind him of you. he makes a minecraft realm just for the two of you, where he fills up a whole book telling you how he loves you more than he's afraid of losing you.

soul has a possessive side to him. he rarely shows it around you, but sometimes you notice. when jongseob is making you laugh just a little too hard. or when you're alone with him in their shared room. if he could, sometimes soul thinks he would bite down on you and claim you forever. but then your eyes light up when you see him. you're encasing him in a hug so tight, so intimate, he forgets all about the possessiveness he felt.

date ideas are split evenly between the two of you. whether it's a movie marathon, a quick little errand turned exploring all the shops, a nice dinner date, playing video games for hours on end... you two come up with your own ideas of fun, and share them. but he never ever lets you pay. he will hold your hand so you can't get your card. trying to pay with cash? he's already tapped his card. oh you tried to be sneaky and pay for dinner by giving the server your card? he gave the hostess his the second you walked in. seriously. he's not huge on princess treatment, or gender roles, but he firmly believes you shouldn't have to pay for anything. except in minecraft. he will go halfsies with you when trading with villagers.

2. intimacy

always, always, always is touching you in some way. holding hands, arms wrapped around you, hand on your side. he is casually touching you no matter where you are. while he used to be shy about kissing you around the members, he'll kiss your forehead, cheek, and nose around them. kissing your lips is saved for when you two are alone because...

every kiss turns into a makeout session. no matter how innocent. you'll give him a soft peck, and before you know it his tongue is slipping past your lips, licking against your own. honestly, he doesn't even always wait until you're completely alone. jongseob does have noise cancelling headphones on, at least.

speaking of jongseob: your lovely boyfriend always seems to be more passionate with you when he's in the bed just across from you two. it's that possessiveness he hides from you. he wants to bite you so hard you bleed, so no one will ever look at you again. but he doesn't want to hurt you. so instead he settles for stretching you open with his fingers while his best friend is in the room. you would think he'd be quiet and leave him out of it, but his dirty talk makes it seem like he wants you to moan a little too loud. "quiet, baby. unless you want him to hear? want him to see how good i ruin you? how i pleasure you? you know he can't see you cum, baby, that's only for me to see."

but aside from that little fantasy of his. no matter how rough soul is with you, he's always making love to you. even when he's thrusting into you so hard the bed is shaking and your knees are pressed up next to your chest, he's still looking at you with his puppy eyes, making you feel so good. and if he finishes too early, you bet he's using his mouth to finish you off, even if it means eating some of his own cum. usually he's ready to go again by the time you cum anyways. he has endless stamina.

taglist: @tkooooop, @haolovre ♡

[shin-thalia]

FNAF MOVIE SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT..

I have MANY THOUGHTS about Mike's family and here they are

Okay so I've been thinking and there is NO WAY Mike Schmidt isn't related to Afton.

When we see the actual William Afton reveal, the picture Vanessa shows of her as a kid features the little orange plane.

This SAME PLANE is the one Garett has in all of Mike's flashbacks, on the day he got taken. When Afton himself shows up, he says "first I killed your brother, now I kill you." Which confirms that yes, he was the one who took Garett on that fateful day.

How would Afton have known to be there? He likely didn't take Garett on instinct because it happened so fast, plus Garett didn't seem scared in the car so he must have known Will to some extent. Plus, it's in a NATIONAL PARK. Was he just waiting there??? Or was it revenge?

I think that Mike's mother remarried from the Aftons, and ended up with Mr Schmidt, who she must have married semi-recently if Garett didn't seem scared about Afton's presence. She possibly could have had an affair that Mike was simply unaware of, or he just never knew his real father, that being William Afton.

Going back to the plane- Vanessa had it, as did Garett. Sure, I'm not saying that there's only one of those planes in existence, but this is FNAF we're talking about.

Either Afton took the plane from Garett after killing him and gave it to Vanessa, or Garett and Mike's side of the family got to keep it when Mrs Schmidt separated from Afton.

This also ties to when 'Steve Raglan' was shocked into silence and leaned in to examine Mike's face after reading the name Schmidt. Either he recognized the surname of one kid he killed over a decade ago, or he recognized the family name of the man his ex-wife married. William Afton recognized his son, and his son simply doesn't remember him.

"They say everything you learn in life, down to the last detail, is stored inside your brain. All you have to do is remember."

This EXACT QUOTE from Mike seems a little too on-the-nose when taken into this context.

Now, when we look at it all, we have Mike Schmidt and Vanessa... who are really Michael Afton and Vanessa Afton.

Vanessa is conveniently in a coma at the end of the movie too, so she can't immediately clear up this information until the sequel. The SAVETHEM-style letters read out in the credits also say "COMEFINDME", which directly references the "now.. I'm going to come find you." Line from Michael Afton at the end of Sister Location, in reference to Springtrap. His father. William Afton.

[bonkbobl]

the mediator between the head and hands must be the heart

ROOSE BOLTON X READER | PART 1

a/n: this was not supposed to have a part 2 but i just really like the idea of secret pervert roose bolton and this will absolutely not be the last fic exploring that. also maaaad respect if you get the movie reference of the title.

summary: taking roose to bed isnt too bad but that really just makes it worse. as does the several confusing feelings bubbling inside of you. you really are beginning to wonder if you truly hate roose bolton

warning: noncon turned dubcon, breeding kink, poor reader is so confused 😭😭 with her body and her feelings, lots of short smut scenes but like their relationship is mostly sexual to begin with, stockholm syndrome vibes if you choose to look at it like that

His warm body felt hot, firm, and sweaty over yours, especially as your tits rubbed against his chest each time he thrusted into you. You just lay there, hoping he would cum and roll of of you before you did.

You always hoped so. But you think he must be able to tell somehow.

You gripped the pillow beneath you so hard youre sure youd could rip it to shreds.

A moan you were trying desperately to keep at bay ripped through your throat because you could hear and feel how spongey and tight your cunt had become. Each time he pushed through felt like he was coming right back home. You couldnt stop your body from welcoming him in like that even if you wanted to.

Whimpers fought past your lips and though you managed to conceal most of them under your breath, you knew he could hear. And it was growing more difficult. Turning your head to the side, you started to sort of let go into a bundle of sheets you’d grabbed in your hand.

Your husband didn't like that one bit.

Roose grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, fucking you harder than before and the whimpers you were failing to stifle tumbled out.

He was in awe of you, watching your eyebrows cinch, your beautiful chest rising and falling, the way your hair was splayed out, your tits bouncing on an especially hard thrust.

You stared at Roose’s lust blown eyes and you could hardly believe this was the same man you knew months ago, before he betrayed your King and forced you into his bed. He was always so composed, a practical man. Now to see him rutting into you, grunting, cursing at how good it felt to be inside, enveloped, you could hardly recognize the cool exterior you knew him to have.

You whimpered at the feeling of his hand moving down from your chin to grip your neck tightly.

It was his hand tightening around your throat that left you tumbling towards release this time. Convulsing around him as always, eyes fluttering close. Roose loved to watch your puffy lips part as you breathed your shaky little breaths.

Almost every time, your release would immediately spur his own. And thats exactly what it did this time.

You resigned yourself to just try to calm down rather than fight it. He was going to put a baby in you. That was his goal. You hate to say it but the thought began to seem not so bad, since you imagined these nightly visits would cease as soon as his seed took root inside you. And you could then walk away with whatever small slice of dignity still remaining.

Give him an heir. And he'll be done with you.

Roose kissed your neck, your jaw, your cheek… before finally landing on your still parted lips. You kissed back instinctively, legs trailing up his side. It was your body moving itself without your minds consent.

Your walls squeezed him lovingly, fluttering, rolling your hips. You hope he succeeded tonight. Your mind cannot take more of this war that your body is waging against it.

—————

You liked embroidering your dresses. You found that it quiets the soul as much as reading does. Even in your time in Robb's camp, if you found yourself contemplating the losses of the past year far too much, you'd turn to your embroidering, reading, or drinking with the other men at camp. It reminded you of the days of leisure in Winterfell, when you'd rather find comfort and peace —and gossip— in Sansa than adventure with Robb and Arya.

It was lonely in Winterfell now. Except when your husband would come to visit you but of course, well, you had mixed feelings about that.

You've never felt anything quite like the confusion that came with being married to Roose Bolton. You looked up from your embroidery and stared at the door to your bedchamber. He was to be here, you think a quarter of an hour ago.

The second that thought had crossed your mind, you shook your head. And you are better off for his tardiness. In fact you should be praying to the gods that he trips falls down the ramparts of the castle.

Well... you don't hope he dies but you hope he breaks a leg or something of the sort. The thought of him dying wouldn't bring you the same satisfaction. You just want to see him scowl at you again as you taunt and teas, like he used to. The good old times when you weren't his prisoner and you held the power. Or perhaps that was simply an illusion too.

Now, it's you who scowls at him, and he is the one who smirks at you with that self-satisfied look on his face. Gods, he disgusts you. Almost as much as you disgust yourself. You were disgusting for, Gods forbid you ever have to say this outloud, enjoying the time you shared with him at night.

Yes, that's something you've unfortunately had to come to terms with. Mostly because the bastard cant keep his comments to himself about how you squeeze him, how you drip for him, how your pretty little cunny is always prepared for him — much more amiable than you.

You could only hope that endurance is all you need. You just need to endure until you become with child — you dont know why it's taking this long. Is it supposed to take this long? You pray to the Gods you are fertile because the quicker you have his child the sooner he'll leave you alone. Perhaps he'll even let you rot here quietly.

And you can then forget about this conflict within you. No more nightly confusions.

The door creaked open and your head shot up, stomach twisting with desire. Roose walked in, starting straight toward the table you sat at and you watched him pour a cup of water for himself then another for you.

Ah yes, as if to make you suffer deeper, yesterday he told you he would cease bringing wine to your room as it would not be good for his heir if you were to drown it with alcohol. You nearly choked him when he took it away from you.

He raised his cup to you, acknowledging your presence with a slight upward tilt in his lips. You watched him critically. "You look happy today, husband."

Roose hummed and took a sip of his water then he set the cup down and offered you his hand. You stared at it dumbly for two seconds before taking it and letting him lead you to the small window looking out of the tower.

Resting his hand on the small of your back, Roose turned to look at you, eyes scanning your side profile until you turned your gaze to him.

What is he doing?

You didn't lie. Your husband looked very strangely chipper, the hint of a smile seemingly permanent on your face. To be frank, it unsettled you greatly.

Then to end your agony, Roose finally spoke, "Do you enjoy this view, my lady?"

You wondered what sort of game he was trying to play with you. Another one of his tricks, likely, or he simply wishes to gloat to you that he's taken your childhood home.

"The center of all the North and it is ours."

Hesitation filled you along with a deeper confusion than the confusion you'd already felt.

"It will be ours for generations to come," His soft voice always had a smooth gentleness to it but smooth and gentle were pretty and digestible masks, concealing the cruelty that laid beneath. But this time, there was no cruelty in his words.

"Y-yes, my lord."

It scared you more than when he would be cruel. "I had hope that you would learn to step into your role, wife."

"My role? My role is to be your breeding bitch and provide heirs, is it not?"

Roose chuckled at the bite behind your words, "I do believe you chose to become my Lady Wife, when faced with the options."

Your memory remains sharp and does not betray you.

Whore of Winterfell, or Lady Bolton?

You still failed to find the distinction.

"You will be more than a-" Roose made a sour face "-womb to pop sons into. In time. I'll be sure of it," he said matter of factly.

You eyed him cynically, unsure of what he meant by that, reminding yourself over and over that this was the very same man who tortures people for fun, who aims to kill everyone who was once near and dear to you, who tries endlessly to tame you and kill your spirits.

If he means to kill your spirits, he better be a persistent man. Because he can toy with you all he wants but you refuse to let him destroy you the way his bastard did Theon Greyjoy.

You closed your eyes as your husband leaned in to plant a kiss to your jaw, trying not to show any visible sign of arousal or discomfort. But it was difficult not to react to the feeling of his rough finger, meeting you at your wrist and ghosting along the back of your hand.

Looking at the ground first, you slowly turned your gaze up at him, staring at him through your lashes. And despite the fact that he had touched you in much more intense, unspeakable ways every night for the past few moons, you found your heart's beat growing increasingly heavy.

Roose's eyes fixated on your lips, the ghost of a smile twitching for a second as if he had just thought of something that amused him. Then he met your eyes again, appreciating that he could always read you. He could always tell. The breathing, the way your eyes looked heavier, the way your lips slightly parted for your little tiny gasps and sighs. He could read you like a book.

He pulled away from you, calmly walking toward the bed as he began undoing some of his clothes and you were left, staring dumbly at the spot he was just in.

When you finally regained the wits to look at him, he quirked his head to the side, "Come to bed."

Before you could even think of anything intelligent to say, your body obeyed him.

—————

You groaned. Or you think you should call it that. In reality it was a noise that you didn't even think yourself capable of making — something feral and more animal than human, but he'd also never taken you like that before.

It had been a week since that very very strange and unexplainable conversation with your husband in your bedchambers, in which he told you of his expectations for his lady wife. Ever since, he's been just slightly different.

It would have barely been noticeable for anyone else but you were his wife and you were his prisoner. He was the only man you saw every day.

He took you to bed with a different sort of energy. Sometimes it felt slower but even when he went fast, you felt he was more grabby and handsy.

One thing you noticed, that started to make your knees weak, was he seemed to take a liking to placing a hand on your belly, or more accurately your womb. He paid stronger attention to your tits as well, liking to suck your nipples into his mouth and nip gently at them to send shocks of pleasure and pain rippling through you.

Today, was the first time he'd fucked you during the day time. The moment you woke up, laying with his arms around you, back pressed against his, you felt his lips on your shoulder.

He fucked you as the two of you lay sideways on the bed.

He held your belly with one hand, grasped your shoulder with the other, and used the leverage to pump his cock into more efficiently. You bit your lip so hard you tasted your own blood trying to hide your noises. They eventually came out as they always did but this time you squeaked uncontrollably, real, wanton moans escaping you.

The unhuman sound you'd made was when Roose finally pumped you full of his spend. After which, he pulled out, letting his cum drip down your thigh and onto the bed.

You laid there, still recovering from the intensity because he barely waited for you to gain awareness before filling you. And by the time you lifted your upper body off the bed, looked around the room, and found him, he was kneeling back down on the bed, a rag in hand. Roose cleaned the mess up efficiently and then tossed the dirtied rag on the dirtied sheets next to you.

You watched, curious. You find that its the commonality in your interactions with Roose. You watch each other. You learn each other. And you've been watching more because his sudden inclination towards gentleness has struck you.

True to the thoughts you were having about him, he chuckled fondly at the sight of your big eyes evaluating his every move, gave your ass a squeee, and stood to get to his clothes.

This was the only time, you swore, that you would ever allow yourself to appreciate your husband's body. After this, you would close your eyes, tear them out of their sockets, if they even dared to rake down to his surprisingly tight ass on any occasion but this one, isolated, self indulgent moment. You were sure to look back, straight into his eyes once he turned back around.

He shamelessly gave you the same self indulgent up and down, appreciating the image of his wife, fucked out— a mess— first thing in the morning.

"Come," he beckoned, "Get dressed."

You think you furrowed your brows on accident because he picked up on your confusion.

"You'll sit with my advisors as we discuss governance from now on. There's no reason Lady Bolton should be confined to her chambers."

—————

New freedoms were granted to you every day. It started with being invited to sit with and counsel Roose alongside his advisors. Some days you would ride with Roose, which must seem like a great amount of trust placed in you but of course Roose would always bring along one or two of his best hunters in case you felt the urge to run. You were the human equivalent of a leashed dog, really.

That’s how you reminded yourself that you’re not in a good place. Because at times it was getting difficult to remember you were a prisoner, as your cage became prettier and wider with more and more playthings and distractions to keep you busy.

It was especially difficult to remember, walking through the courtyards from your childhood, arm laced in your husbands. It was the type of thing youd watch your Lord and Lady Paramount do, staring in loving envy of their bond. You found it difficult to rip yourself from the moment and carry on the bitterness that used to define your days when shared glances and discreet touches culminated in the rare, indulgent kiss once the meeting concluded. No you couldnt remember to hate him when he touched your face and granted a soft, lingering kiss as soon as his councilmembers scurried out of the room.

And the nightly passions never ceased either.

You lay one night, settled into his side as he lay on his back. Your cheek rested on his chest and your hand toyed with the little bit of hair in his stomach. For the first time, you think about killing him, really plotting a plan and finding a way to do it and youre dreadfully unwilling to think on it further. You cant help but wonder if you’ve truly lost.

But your mind is calm, it feels like its full of cotton, so clouded whenever you tilt your head to sneak a goance at Roose, who you really quickly realize is just watching and studying you, playing with the ends of your hair mindlessly.

"Do you remember when you visited me at Harrenhall?"

Yes you do. Of course you did. You remember telling Talisa that you still love her and Robb and that she should do her best to advise him and keep him grounded no matter how stubborn he gets. You were hoping to return and sit back upon Robbs council afterward.

He just frustrated you sometimes. So unwilling to accept criticism at times.

Even so, treachery never even crossed your mind as an option

"Yes?"

"I had always found myself wondering why," Roose spoke, only a little unsure and you hadn't caught on to the subtle difference in his usual tone.

You were too busy wondering what kind of game he was playing — if this just happened to be some kind of trick. Why was Roose leading you down memory lane? Hes not exactly a man known for his gooey sentiment. You could only imagine he means to remind you how much he's managed to change you since then.

"I..." You hesitated. Because really, it all felt too dreadfully awkward. But nevertheless you felt inclined to tell the truth. It was somewhat out of spite, a way to say — I truly respected you and you never reciprocated. Though you doubt he'd even care. "I had always enjoyed your presence, my lord."

Roose was silent so you took that to mean he wanted you to continue.

Thinking for a few seconds, you laughed at your own past foolishness, "I just... I wanted to see an old friend. I missed seeing you at the King's Table."

Really thinking back, it was a rather anxious time for you. You thought perhaps you were going crazy. You really just wanted to talk to someone who might understand though even during your visit, you never managed to broach the subject with Roose. Rather you spent your days going to his receptions, dining with him, reading when he needed to focus but otherwise babbling his ear off.

You were anxious thinking of the possible outcomes of the war. In reality, this was when you began to waver in your faith that Robb could win the war. There was nasty division in his ranks over his marriage, over his handling of the Kingslayer. They were all losing faith in the King.

You were anxious trying to think of any way to fix it. Roose had been on your side more than not, though you had your occasional disagreements. You had hoped he'd be a good person to bounce ideas off of.

But he changed the topic every time you mentioned Robb.

You had been too naive to notice and wonder why.

"When did you realize?" You asked, "That... that Robb had lost the war?"

Roose felt you look up at him so he met your eyes. He closed his parted lips, swallowing at the sight of you in the warm, dim light that the fire casted in the room. Just a year ago, Roose could hardly conceive something so sweet existing in this world. The one good thing to come from House Stark.

His hand came up to pet your hair and you involuntarily sank into his chest, averting your gaze. "It wasn't any particular moment that caused me to realize... many poor decisions, many displays of arrogance."

He tucked your hair behind your ear and his hands came down, trailing over your jaw to settle in a position cupping your cheek.

"I realized I did not want to die for a boys many mistakes, because he refused to listen to his advisors. I did not want to follow a King who was less reasonable than a girl, younger than he. Because if that girl could understand better than he, what kind of king would that make him? And I realized he would certainly lead that girl to her death."

You thought on his words cautiously. The first parts made sense but the implication that he had considered you and what would happen to you at length through all his plotting confused you. "Why..." But the several questions you had jumbled together in your head and you couldn't start.

"Everything I have done is for the betterment of my house and the North. I thought, fundamentally, we are the same in this way. At some point I found myself conceding that you and I, though it is not immediately obvious, are like-minded individuals."

"The betterment of the North..." You muttered, not being able to help the bitter tone in your voice. You just… didn’t believe that his motives were truly selfless.

"You don't mean to really tell me you disagree. The boy would have led us all to our deaths. When I realized, I'm not sure. But I know that when I realize I'm fighting on the losing side, it is better to mitigate the loses. For everyone involved."

"And why save me then?"

Roose paused, looking down at you again. You stared up at him, wide eyed, curious. And he couldn't help the smirk, though it depends on how you choose to look at it — it was one of his more fond smirks that held the confidence and self satisfaction that it always did, but also a sense of contentedness.

You were laying there, on his chest, staring up at him and you've never looked more like you were completely and wholly his. Contentedness was the only thing he knew in that moment.

"There was a time I looked at you and felt nothing but perplexed. Often I'd rather do without the confusion so I thought it better to let you die."

You scoffed.

But Roose continued, "Then the frustration became a different flavor once you began approaching me more. I began thinking that perhaps under better circumstances I could have waited, then asked our King to approve my asking your hand in marriage."

A touch of cynicism caused you to say, "Oh, don't tell me it's because you love me."

"No," Roose answered calmly, lips quirking up in amusement, "But I knew you were the most fit for the title of Wardeness of the North. More than any other woman."

"And?"

He looked at you, a question in his eyes.

"And you wanted to fuck me. You forgot that part," You continued to stare at him challengingly.

"Yes, more than any other woman." And again it was his absolute lack of shame and frankness that caused you to acquiesce and hide your warm face back in his chest. "So did you," he said as if it were some casual reminder and not a gross accusation, which was how you took it.

You propped yourself up on your elbow so that you could properly stare at him with the incredulous look that had spread across your face. "A man without shame."

"Don't pretend. You forget I've had two wives before you," Roose said, eyes raking down. Your chest was tantalizingly pressed against the bed and it made them look bigger than they already were. "I've had two women who lay still under me as they reluctantly performed their duties. You are not one of those women. Not even the first night."

Your eyes hardened in a glare at your husband but for whatever reason, your traitorous, degenerate body never failed to respond to Roose Bolton. Your body truly served him and not your own mind. Or perhaps it served your treacherous heart which never seemed to be within your control when he was nearby.

"I'll always remember how you squirmed against me. Even I was shocked."

Scoffing, you spit out "Oh you're happy about it."

"I am," He spoke, ever so frank, "It's not common for lords of my age to find such a beautiful young wife so willing to let me into her bed." He strokes your face a little and you tense despite wanting nothing but to melt into his hand, "But you... well your mouth remains as stubborn as your mind. But your eyes give it away. Your eyes beg for me."

You sighed, imagining. Because though you tried to glare at him you wondered if he wasn't bluffing — if he could truly see something else in your gaze. So you just huff and turn your face away, settling back into his side in silent admission of defeat.

Roose Bolton chuckled beneath you, a real chuckle. His hand wrapped around your shoulder, caressing you with some real tenderness behind it. You suppose out of all the outcomes available, you could have been worse off.

—————

One morning many days later struck you hard. Right when You rose from bed, you ran to your chamberpot and emptied your stomach of last nights dinner. You were sure that it was finally what you had been hoping for — a pregnancy. And though you were really hoping for that to be the case merely a week ago, hoping it might give you some relief from your husband, you no longer really feel that way for some reason.

Its for the best, You think to yourself. You'll tell him of it and he'll be happy. He'll praise you for doing your duty as Lady Bolton and you'll be free of him from your bed for the next nine months. In that time, you can surely teach yourself to truly and deeply hate him again, as you used to. You just need to realize that thats still what you want.

To get through the day, you passed a note to a cupbearer for your husband, telling him you felt ill and would not be leaving your room. You had the maester bring you a potion to help with the sickness. He told you, he was positively certain that you were with child.

Later that night, when your husband entered your room, he made for the table immediately and sat, leaning back and sighing. The only bit of respite in the day. He was happy to see you after such a long day with no rest.

You poured him a glass of water and he hummed, thanking you for it. He was in a chipper mood. He was tired, but you could tell his shoulders were relaxed. You wondered if the maester already informed him.

"I woke up this morning. Feeling ill," you told him, "I talked to the maester..."

You watched him regard you with interest and a small smirk graces his face, "Did you?" And he patted his thigh.

You look at him inquisitively because never in all your time together has he made that request. And with a pause, you huffed and stood to obey, settling yourself in your husbands lap. "He said it's entirely likely I could be with child."

Roose made a satisfied grunt and played with your hair, pushing it out of your face.

You let him. You were confused but you let him. You were especially confused when he landed a kiss on your lips, tender and loving and with the usual fervor that marks his kisses.

Roose pulled away after a few short seconds and said, "I was wondering when the sickness would start," he smirked deviously, lips still brushing yours.

You stared back bewildered. He had been wondering, as in he was wondering before today, when your sickness might start, meaning he knew already? Or was that simply a poorly worded phrase?

"I had the maester inspect your chamber pot daily. I would be the first to know when you would have come to be with child."

"How long have you—"

"Three weeks."

And you just scoffed to yourself, shaking your head incredulously.

"Whats wrong?" Roose laughed, finding himself amused with your reaction.

"I... I was under the impression that we would... stop… being sexual once I came to be with child. But obviously not."

"What gave you that impression?"

"I—" You paused fully and thought on it.

Nothing. Nothing really gave you that impression other than the fact that all he talked about was siring an heir and all that your septas taught you about being intimate with a man were in relation to siring an heir. No one had taught you about how it could feel good for a woman. All you had ever heard was how it feels amazing for men. You suppose the logical conclusion would be that he'd continue to bed you for his own benefit but alas when you grow up with the notion of bedding only for procreation, the notion sticks.

"I suppose I've never heard of husband and wife fucking for pleasure. Husbands seek whores after their wife grows fat with a child."

"Are you disappointed?” Roose’s voice was filled with amusement at your naivete.

No— Yes!

... in between. You struggle to answer because yes you are disappointed because this all has been rather taxing on your mind. It's not easy to keep your composure and wits around Roose when he's toying with you, especially when your memory of the previous night flashes in your head. It's difficult to remind yourself who the enemy in the room is. It's difficult to remember why he's your enemy. After all, he saved you, didn't he?

Yes theres the complication. Was this man your enemy? Did you truly disagree with his actions? Can you not rectify his decisions in your mind? You know you wouldn't have done what he did, not in a million years... but you don't know what it is — your likeness in logical thinking or the mere fact that you've grown strangely fond of him over the past years — you can't condemn him for the actions he took against your King. You only disliked him because that King was your brother.

You don't know the answer. The correct answer, some would say is clear, but others would argue that there is no correct answer, only the illusion of correctness placed upon you by those that came before.

And so you don't answer.

You just kissed him again.

And you fumbled, reaching down to unlace his cock. You pulled him out, pulling away from him. And he watched you, breathless as you also did away with your under garments.

Quicker and more assuredly than any previous night, you mounted him and seated him deep inside, both of you groaning out.

The position was foreign to you but you grew accustomed quickly, rolling your hips, grabbing the back of the chair for help as you began to rise and fall. You were used to being on your stomach or your back. Sometimes he even took you against the table. But this was the first time you were on top. By how his mouth remained gently agape as he pushed your nightgown gently down your shoulders, you would wager and say the change is welcome.

"These will grow swollen in time, just as your belly swells with my son," Roose teased. You shuddered as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking and sending waves of shock through you.

His arms came around your situating at your waist, holding you close. And he began moving you to help you bounce on him. As his thick cock glided through you, you couldn't help but feel you were right where you belonged.

[jewfrogs]

no real disagreement with this post—spiderverse’s gwen stacy is as trans as peter b parker is jewish—but it’s interesting how the incidental nature of peter’s judaism is treated as not only normal but necessary: that this is what stories should do, that it’s the audience’s responsibility to recognize (from one brief glimpse) that he had a jewish wedding and that this means he’s jewish, that not recognizing this is a failure of audience understanding. because i was an ideal audience member in that regard—i’m a jew, i know what a jewish wedding looks like, i wholeheartedly believe that every version of peter parker is jewish regardless of technical canonicity—and i knew immediately, but i know that many, many more people weren’t and didn’t—and frankly, for them, it’s easy to miss! if you aren’t paying attention in that one scene, or if you don’t recognize the signifiers of a jewish wedding, you can very easily come away from the films without knowing that peter b parker is jewish.

which wouldn’t be a big deal, but the need to infer judaism from offhand references is nothing new. it’s on tv tropes (where peter b parker makes an appearance). “ambiguous jews” make up a majority of jewish representation in popular media (and that’s not even counting the ones that are stated as jewish but somehow that never seems to come up in any serious setting). this is something that we are a wee bit tired of.

we might ask: why can’t peter b parker say he’s jewish? why is judaism nearly always shown as something easy to pass over, not especially important to a person? is that necessary? is one short shot sufficient not only as evidence of his jewishness, but as the only way we’re shown that judaism impacts him? do most jews not regularly interact with judaism? do most jews never mention that they’re jewish? are there no jokes that could be included to confirm his jewishness? does a direct address of identity need to be a bland, out-of-place statement? is it a failure of watching or of writing if someone doesn’t know that he’s jewish? why is this the way they chose to portray him as jewish?

this isn’t “spiderverse critical” or anything—these are (mostly) sincere questions, and my problem is less with this particular movie or character and more with the pattern peter b parker plays into, and the way that pattern is treated in reception.

[xhikers]

sleepover - k.jh

pairing- kim junghoon (xikers) x reader

synopsis- you convince junghoon to have a sleepover!!

warnings- mentions of food, reader is shorter than junghoon, idol!junghoon, lmk if i missed anything! (lowercase intended)

word count- 1k

requested- yes

junghoon rummaged through the pile of potato chips, looking for the bag that matched the image that was forever in his brain from seeing you hold it so often. he had started practicing with the rest of the xikers members again recently after his injury, and was getting back into his routine of stopping by your place on the way back to the dorms.

     as usual, he stopped by a local convenience store to pick up something for you on his way. he was finally able to find the flavor of chips he knew that you loved and saw you eating so frequently. 

     he scanned the rest of the shelves, looking for anything else you might like before walking up to the cash register. he thanked the friendly cashier, who had most likely become very familiar with junghoon at this point, and continued on his way to your house.

you were sitting on your bed, scrolling through the tv channels for the third time as you waited for junghoons arrival. you were always happy to see him, but especially tonight. you had been waiting for what felt like hours before you finally heard a knock at your door. you jumped out of your bed and let him inside of your room before embracing him in a long hug. 

     “you act like you didn’t see me last week” he laughed, setting both the black backpack on his back and the grocery bag on the carpet of your bedroom to return your hug.

     “hey! a week is a long time!” you laughed along with him, knowing that it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

     you hesitantly let go of him, leading him to sit on the edge of your bed with you. junghoon picked the shopping bag back up, handing it to you.

     “i uh.. got these for you” he said, sitting next to you. 

     you pulled the bag of chips out of the plastic bag, recognizing them immediately.

     “you remembered that these are my favorite!” you beamed, looking down at the snack in your hands and then up at junghoon. 

     “thank you so much!” you gave him a quick kiss to show your appreciation and pulled open the bag of chips, popping one in your mouth and offering another to the boy next to you. you leaned into the wall next to your bed. you nodded your head towards the empty space next to you, motioning him to sit next to you. 

     “i can’t stay long.” he frowned, looking back at you as he leaned into your wall. 

     “aww, why not?” you asked, leaning your head on to his shoulder.

     “it’s getting late and i still have to walk back to the dorms, so i don’t want to wait until it’s too late.” 

you sighed, knowing that he was right. it’s not like you wanted him to have to walk back all alone in the dark. 

     “you should sleep over!” you suggested, wiping the frown right off of your face. 

     you watched junghoons face as he thought about your idea. he has slept over at your house many times before, he probably even had some of his clothes stuffed in the back of your closet somewhere. you could see how exhausted he was from practice, causing you to urge him even more. 

     “please!!” you laughed. “it’ll be fun!”

junghoon laughed along with you at your attempt and agreed.

     you climbed over the mess that was your closet, sure that you had seen one of his black sweatshirts in the corner. you finally found the sweatshirt, handing it to him to wear with his sweatpants from practice. 

     after changing, it didn’t take him long to get settled under a mountain of blankets on your bed. you had turned on a movie and gotten some snacks along with the chips that junghoon had purchased earlier, but at this point you were more focused on taking pictures of a laughing junghoon, what looked like 20 blankets, and the sheet mask you had forced him to wear. 

     “you look like an idiot.” you told him, referring to the mask that you were also wearing.

     “you promised that if i wore this you wouldn’t make fun of me!” he looked up at you, pretending to be offended. 

     “okay okay fine…” you chuckled, eating a handful of popcorn and turning your attention to the tv across the room and placing your head on junghoons shoulder once more. 

     after a while, you felt yourself drifting to sleep with the warmth of the boy next to you and his many blankets. despite the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap and the sound of characters conversing in the background of the movie, you were able to fall asleep. 

     you woke up to the feeling of a cracking, dry film on your face, realizing that both you and junghoon had left your sheet masks on all night. you peeled yours off and threw it into the trash can in your room, doing the same with junghoons, waking him up in the process. half of his blankets had fallen onto the floor in the middle of the night, allowing him to stuff his face into your pillow and mumble incoherently to you. 

     “come on, it’s time to wake up” you said as you shook his shoulders, encouraging him to get out of bed. 

     it took a while, but you finally managed to wake him up. he had to leave almost as soon as he woke up in order to film content with the rest of the members. 

     “okay do you have everything?” you asked him, looking around to make sure that he hadn’t left anything in your bed or on the floor. 

     “yep i got everything.” he replied, gesturing to his backpack.

     you pulled him down by his arm, kissing his cheek before finally sending him off. 

    “text me when you get there, okay?” 

he just nodded to respond, kissing you back, this time on your lips. you gave him a look, hoping for an actual response. 

     “i always do.”

[gaykarstaagforever]

1970

The Silver Age was coming to a close in 1970. But DC wasn't quite out of amazing ideas yet.

I'm not going to review this. There is nothing more to say than what this cover says. Superman turns into a giant stupid Superman for like 2 hours, wrecks a bunch of things, then it wears off. It is exactly as cool and entertaining as that sounds. They finally got one right, boys.

Here he is fighting a bunch of soldiers.

Here he is, doing the thing.

Here he is, using the tip of the Washington Monument that he broke off to write a giant message about how oops, he's sorry about all of this. ...Which seems like it kind of contradicts his point, since there were probably a hundred ways he could have written this message without destroying a national monument.

But we're not here to be nerds about writing, we're here to see this:

I'll tell you how he got out of this mess, because it is probably the most fantastic thing in this entire story. Maybe one of the most fantastic things Silver Age Superman ever did. And NO, it doesn't involve one of his stupid awful robot clones.

But first, you need some context. This is the very first panel of the story, after the splash page:

Now. If you're like me, you are immediately lost. Who is Titano, and why are these idiots talking about him in front of a King Kong movie poster?

Well. I don't know how to tell you this, but back in 1959, there was a Superman comic where NASA sent a monkey into Space, and it came back 50 feet tall with kryptonite laser eyes. It did a King Kong with Lois (of course), until Superman defeated it and whisked it away to a Planet of Giants he knew about.

You know that thing in comics, where they'll reference some old story only nerds will remember, and they'll put an asterisk and tell you what issue it was from so you know what the hell they're referring to? Yeah, no, they don't do that here. This panel is all you get. They just expected you to remember that 11 years ago, they did a story where Superman fought a giant monkey from Space.

Which, sure, is memorable, as far as these things go. But 1960s Superman fought all kinds of crazy things from Space! It seems a little presumptuous to assume anyone would remember this specific incident, after 11 years of growth rays and shrink rays and 5th dimensional pygmy wizards and that time Superman was fat. But here we are.

Yes this is relevant to the ending. As the bigness whatever is wearing off, Superman jogs out into the ocean to finish his shrinking. He then returns to Lois and Jimmy as Normal-Sized Clark Kent. This was during the era where Lois and Jimmy were finally both suspicious that maybe Clark was Superman, only because the two were never at the same place, at the same time.

And yes, even they knew about the damn robot clones by now, so they weren't going to fall for that sitcom nonsense.

So Clark, the perpetual liar that he is, has to make sure Lois and Jimmy don't point out how he was conveniently absent the entire time Superman was giant. Before they declare him Superman, he points out to them that while he is here with them now normal-sized, a giant in a Superman costume is still visible, running away through the ocean. See? He can't be Superman. Even if he looks exactly like him, in face and build, but with glasses.

So how does Superman callously deceive his two closest friends?

He flew real fast to the Giant Planet, abducted a confused and terrified Titano (remember him?), created a giant Superman costume and dressed the giant monkey in it, flew him back to Earth, and dropped him into the ocean in just the perfect way where Lois and Jimmy could see him in the Superman outfit, but not see he was in fact a giant monkey. The giant monkey they would both specifically recognize, because of the thing they went through with him before.

Don't worry about Titano though, if you were. Once this lunacy is over, Superman rips his clothes off and dumps him back on the Giant Planet.

...I appreciate that you're probably still trying to process all this. And best of luck with that. But before we end, we need to talk about this:

They buy Cracker Jacks at the movies. Jimmy's box has red kryptonite in it, and that is what makes Superman grow big and stupid, because, and I very nearly quote, red kryptonite makes weird stuff happen, and Clark was watching King Kong, so he was thinking about giant monkeys.

That is the ONLY explanation we get for any of this. No, they don't explain why red kryptonite was in a box of Cracker Jacks. Or why two panels of this comic are an obvious ad for Cracker Jacks, except the boxes don't look like real Cracker Jack boxes, and they always did that for ads, so this can't be one. Plus this isn't a separate page in the comic, this is just...how the story starts.

Was this a tie-in that fell through, last-minute? It has to be, right? LOOK at this. Why did they do this?

Also, King Kong is technically public domain, in the sense that you can print the name and show a giant monkey. But the movie rights are exclusive to Universal. And I don't know if that was true in 1970. So was this ALSO some kind of Universal King Kong tie-in? Again, it isn't a proper ad, it's just part of the story.

Though they very specifically only feature Titano in person in the comic, so maybe this WAS just a reference, and they were careful not to put actual Universal's King Kong in the story.

They just used their own ripoff of him from 11 years earlier. Where he was brown and looked more like a giant chimp. And now, here, he is a black gorilla, sort of. Like King Kong.

...There is a whole entire other feature in this issue, and I haven't even read it yet, because I have been thinking about this story for like a week.

I hope you understand why.

[atinyniki]

nap of a star.

group: tomorrow x together !

pairing: idol bf!choi beomgyu x f!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, established relationsips, petnames, crying, insecurities (beomgyu), txt is unknowingly hurting beomgyu, beomgyu teases members, just rlly sad :(

authors note: screaming and crying over this. i thought this would be the perfect title for this little fic. posting to see this if my work is unshadowbanned, and if so ill post my new jisung fic !! this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1394

“name one thing you like most about yeonjun”

the order goes by age, soobin answering first.

“i really love… hm… his butt”

the four of them burst into laughter, disbelief evident on their faces. “his butt?”, taehyun asks incredulously.

“yes! it’s so cute”

“ok. ew. weirdo. next?”, yeonjun moves on quickly from his comment.

beomgyu just giggles, not saying a word. yeonjun rolls his eyes. “nothing? really?”, he smiles.

beomgyu shakes his head no, a smile still on his face. all of them laugh, yells erupting throughout the entire room.

“nothing.”, beomgyu repeats, a matter-of-factly.

“yeah yeah…”, yeonjun knows beomgyu loves him, so there’s no need to push it.

the game goes on, continuing with soobin, and then comes beomgyus turn.

he sits down on the stool, waiting first for yeonjun. yeonjun just giggles, parroting beomgyus actions from earlier. it was no surprise to him, so he just jokes around with yeonjun. 

soobins turn comes next. no answer. just more giggling. beomgyu knew that yeonjun wouldn’t answer, that’s just how they are. they love teasing eachother, but soobin?

beomgyu laughs it off, waiting again for more. no one said anything. they joke around for a long time, instead talking about things they don’t like about him.

they sure can name a lot…

beomgyu just sits back down in his chair, mood deflated and drained of all cheeriness he’s had before. nonetheless, he tries to keep a smile for the camera.

the game continues on again, beomgyus voice has gotten duller, but no one seemed to notice. the shoot ends, and they all finally let loose and begin to laugh about it.

“my butt?! soobin what were you thinking?!”

he giggles, “i was thinking about your butt!”

“oh my gosh. shut up.”, yeonjun fake gags.

they all giggle together. all but beomgyu. they still don’t notice. 

they go out to eat after, beomgyu continuously stuffing his face so he doesn’t have to speak. he just wants to go home. you, he wants to go to you.

his home.

“baby? i’m home…”, he calls out softly.

no answer.

he closes the door behind him, kicking off his shoes lazily and walking towards the kitchen. he sees you there, making yourself another bag of popcorn.

you turn around, gasping dramatically when you see him. “beomgyu!”

you rush into his arms, a smile erupting on both your faces immediately. “how was your day sweetheart?”

“oh you know… the usual. lots of filming, though”

“yeah i bet, you were there for a while.”

you dump the popcorn into the bowl, taking beomgyu to the bed to watch the remaining half hour of the movie with you.

“what movie is this?”

“uh… home alone? duh. how could you not recognize it? this is one of your favorites…”

you watch as he leans towards the screen again, when it clicks. “oh… yeah. must just be tired.”

you two finish the popcorn together, finishing the movie not too long after. after such a long day, it feels amazing to be in your arms.

he just couldn’t get what they said out of his mind. or… what they didn’t say.

you set the laptop onto the dresser, along with the bowl full of kernels. “hi dorky”

“oh… hey pretty”

you turn to him, smiling and pecking his nose. “you tired?”

“just thinking.”

he looks back up at you, smiling and wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

“yeah? what’s on your mind?”

the question sits on the tip of his tongue. you’ll be able to answer right?

you love him… right?

“what’s something you love about me?”

so many things came to mind. he’s so caring, so funny, and so incredibly perfect. he makes you and everyone else around him feel so loved and appreciated, even people he isn’t close with. he’s so snarky but it’s in the best way possible, and you just can’t truly express how much you love him in words.

small sniffles pull you out of your thoughts. it’s only felt like seconds, but it’s been an entire minute since he’s asked the question. he buries his head in your chest to muffle the sounds, and you immediately wrap your arms around him. it makes him feel safe.

he looks back up at you again, small sobs escaping his lips as he stares at you with bloodshot eyes. it seems as if your entire world has shattered just at the sight of him. 

“please… can’t you- can’t you think of something? just one thing? you love me… right?”, he begs desperately.

you immediately shut down his thoughts.

“what? no… no sweetheart no! i love you, my star. i promise. don’t ever doubt it for a second. its just… so many things came to mind, i didn’t know which one to say first.”

a sigh of relief leaves his lips again, and he sobs even harder, clutching onto your shirt and drenching it with his tears. “i’m so sorry… i didn’t mean to rush…”, your own eyes tearing up at his words.

“i love you, beomgyu. everything about you. i love how your heart is so incredibly big, and how you seem to make me smile with everything that you do. you’re perfect beomgyu.”

the sincerity in your voice makes him wail, breaths broken up by hiccups and more cries. “th-thank you.”

you hug him closer towards you, but you don’t ask about anything. talking would be too much for him to handle right now. he just needed you.

“you’re so incredibly funny, gyu. i love that about you. you care about everyone, even if you’re not necessarily close. i love that too. i love everything about you. the love i feel for you is just simply… unfathomable.”

his heart swells in his chest, head tilting up to give you a small kiss. “i’m sorry. i didnt mean to break down on you like that.”

you kiss his forehead, pulling him close again so that the two of you are face-to-face. “no need to apologize, i’m always here for you, my star. was there… something that triggered that?”

he frowns, eyes still pouring out tears steadily. he explains the entire thing, how filming went, what they said, and you cant help but feel for him. 

you run your fingers along his spine, “oh baby… why didn’t you tell me?”

“i didn’t wanna worry you. it’s kinda.. dumb… anyways”

“it’s not dumb, it hurt you.”

“it’s okay… i’ll get over it… i know i will. it’s just… sometimes i can’t help but think they mean it.”

you smile, hugging him close into your chest and kissing the top of his head repeatedly. curse his brain for making him think like this.

“they love you beomgyu. don’t worry.”

he laces your fingers together under the sheets, kissing your collarbone and parts of your neck and jawline. no one could ever make you feel more loved. 

you giggle, “that tickles…”

“i know.”, he smiles mischievously. instantly, more kisses are planted onto your neck and the parts of your chest he can reach, playfully nibbling and licking over your skin.

you look back down at him, love and adoration swimming through your eyes. you hold eye contact for a long time, as if your true feelings were passing through just by a look in that moment.

the love you feel for eachother is unexplainable, it’s a true miracle that you are such a perfect match. you lean down to kiss him again, watching as he chases your lips when you pull away.

“i love you, y/n.”

you kiss his forehead again, and you open your mouth to speak. you stop once you look at his face again.

his lips are slightly parted from your kiss earlier, hands loosely placed onto your waist and chest. its becoming difficult to resist the urge to smother him in kisses, but he deserves his sleep.

you bring your hand up, the one that’s still holding beomgyus, and kiss over his knuckles. you run a finger over his cheekbone, admiring his adorable sleepy pout. you could definitely get used to this.

if you aren’t spending the rest of your life with this man, you don’t want to spend it with anyone at all.

smiling, a tear leaves your eye at the sight of your boyfriend. you’re so lucky to have him, you just can’t believe it. do tears of adoration even exist?

“i love you too, my star.”

<3

[tater-tots-last-of-the-romanovs]

Now that I've simmered my Furiosa thoughts for a while, I think I'm ready to share a little bit.

I agree that there were some pacing issues, but I think it needed two climaxes because ... as I remarked to my sister at the end of the show, "you can just immediately start watching Fury Road now!" Seriously, it's no accident that where Furiosa leaves off is exactly where Fury Road starts. I almost see them as two halves of one movie. The last twenty minutes of Furiosa read almost as more of a prologue to Fury Road than anything else.

Watching Furiosa also helped me come to terms with the ending of Fury Road. Watching her lose everyone she loved in such a cruel way, being unable to let them go without trying to stop it ... and seeing how she lets Max go with a smile and a nod ... she's evolved! She doesn't hold onto things, but that doesn't mean she forgets them or stops loving them. I fully believe that she does still love her mother, Praetorian Jack, and even Max. The interpretation of what kind of love is left up to us, the viewer. I think she recognizes that while she is ready to accept her redemption and move on to improving the lives of everyone around her, she knows instinctively that Max is not. So she lets him go, and the shipper in me thinks with the belief that he'll come back when he's ready.

Did Furiosa add greatly to what Fury Road had already built? Maybe not, although I think showing the Green Place, Gas Town, and the Bullet Farm was excellent. Furiosa was different from Fury Road in that it was a classic bildungsroman, but from the female perspective. We all know that girls grow up faster, mainly from necessity. Furiosa was pretty young when she was taken, but she already knew how to protect herself from men, which would be a vital skill in the brutality of the wasteland. Her mother and the other Many Mothers knew their daughters would need those skills to survive.

Okay I think that's all my thoughts. Except for this: what's the fandom interpretation of Furiosa's "Remember me??" to Immortan Joe just before she killed him? It's not that he didn't deserve to have his face ripped off, I just couldn't quite reconcile it with the events of Furiosa. Of all the men in the movie, he was about the only one who did basically nothing to him. Was it referring to her being put with the Wives when she was like 13? Curious to hear your thoughts!

[ilikelookingatthings]

Just finished watching trolls 3 and I have so many thoughts I must share into the tumblr void!

first. It's a great movie. Ten out of ten songs. The characters are wonderful I LOVE THE FAMILY THEMES! and all the boy band puns and references are wonderfully done cans getting to see where each troll landed in life.

Now for my thoughts. I see alot of the fans being tough on the eldest brother...after all he was tough and pushed everyone to be perfect and get into roles and him snapping at his brothers and shifting the blame a bit for the failure to hit the perfect Harmony wasn't cool. And it resulted in the band and the family breaking up...not to mention him being there for branch.

But I honestly think they should have focused a bit more of WHY he was so intense about the perfect Harmony. The movie points to how this time he clearly wants to do it to save Floyd. Something ALL the brothers are on bored with...and we also know his care for Floyd is genuine as he did immediately go when he heard he was in trouble.

The brothers act like he js all bossy and controlling for no reason..

Which on the surface could parallel the sister in the veneer spaghetti siblings(the nostalgia and joy when my sister remembered what those toys were called XD) on the surface. Which the movie pointed how you shouldn't let someone restrict or guide what you will do or act. Which helped inspire the brother to at least come clean at the end and how the brothers had se p erated due to being serious about that boundary....

But I honestly think the eldest brother was that harsh about the perfect Harmony the first time because he was trying to protect his brothers. Not Just the second time in trying to save Floyd.

Think about it. The Band was together while they were still in the home tree in Bergen town where yearly the Bergens would gather around to feast on the trolls. Yearly means the Bergens knew they had to control how much they took or there wouldn't be anymore trolls to snack on.

We also know that when trolls get too sad they turn Grey and not as tasty and that the happier the troll/most talented the tastier/more valuable they are. AND WE KNOW THE BERGENS kept track to know which were the happiest trolls...hence why Poppy in particular was chosen to be the first troll the prince would get to eat...the tastiest, sweetest. happiest troll.

So I actually think the reason they were a band was because the band could serve as a distraction from the impending yearly pruning of the trolls and keep the trolls happy. Which was good for troll moral...but also meant the Bergens might keep the band alive/not choose to eat them because it meant keeping just 5 trolls alive the more happier/tastier trolls/less risk of trolls turning grey that the bergens could choose from.

Not to mention if they were perfect/special with the perfect Harmony the bergans might Have to keep them alive since the long we the live they might create more tastier talented trolls. Like letting the tastier Brussel sprouts live to procreate instead of eating them immediately. Or selective breading if you will.

And if they were perfect and well loved enough as a band the bergens might put them on the not kill list because if they were eaten it might upset too many of the trolls/risk too many if them turning grey.

They hinted a bit by having the eldest brother bring up how he had been taking care of all the brothers and the pressure it put him under.

But I really wish they had spelled out that the reason he was so fixated on them being perfect was because it was literally him trying to protect them and guarentee they wouldn't be pruned.

Even the simple titles(the sensative one, the fun one, the heartthrob, the leader, the baby ect) makes more sense in the scenerio that he was trying to make them easy to identify so the Bergens would have a easier time recognizing to not eat that specific troll and easier for other trolls to identify with at least one of the brothers to cover their bases to them becoming so popular they couldn't be touched by the Bergens.

It would also create a VERY strong parallel between the eldest brother and Branch in the first movie because Branch was also bossy and judgy and telling everyone they were doing something wrong which was actually branches way of caring for everyone and their safty...but by pushing like that when trolls naturally want to be chill and happy and not bummed out resulted in the other trolls seeing branch as bossy and disregarding branches good points and reasons because they felt he was putting down/disregarding their right to party and be positive.

Which caused other trolls to not want to. be around 'party pooper branch' and branch as a result rejecting the other trolls more in return that him pushing so hard was to keep them safe. With branch getting to the point of pretending like he doesn't care/why he was so harsh to poppy and rejecting hug time even though deep diwn he still cared as we saw him keep and rebuild all the cards he had destroyed.

In this it leads me to believe the eldest brother was bossy/being the partypooper trying to get everyone perfect and lashing out due to stress and fear. Trying to shift his stress on his brothers like branch had done with poppy to cover up the real source of his stress. And like branch,who had been surprised and upset at the other trolls being unreasonable in not realizing branch was right to have fears/that they should be more cautious, the eldest brother struggled to see why his brothers thought his advice was unreasonable when the elder brothers knew his thoughts/motives were to keep them safe by sticking to the band plan.

And him being pessimistic about the harmony note not happening must be because he had fixated on the harmony being the thing that would save his brothers/make them indispensible.

And his bros wanting to quit and blaming him felt like it made him leave himself like how branch would loudly say he doesn't need anyone else and would be alone.

Also why did no kbe adress more that he literally thoight everyone died? He couldn't find them for years and he also couldn't risk being seen by the Bergens...and how all of his brothers were just still upset with him...which made sense since their feelings were valid and he didn't take into account how ge was stressing them out and wasn't seeing them properly....but it felt a bit unfair we didn't see them realize he was that tough because he was trying to protect them and how them disregarding he cared at a must have hurt.

I think if the movie had brought it up it might have been a dark moment...but it would also create a strong thematic parallel with Viva who wanted too afraid and wanted to keep poppy and clay with her where she was going to disregard what they wanted with how he seemed to disregard some of the issues due to thinking he was right fir the greater good. And how scared viva was to risk seeing poppy hurt on the outside/why viva had stayed behind despite her wanting poppy to stay with her and be safe.

And a parallel with king peppy who hadn't reminded Peppy about her sister or the trolls who had been left behind due to his grief. But also meant poppy had a simple view of her dad and had disregarded his advice in the second movie and a bit in the first because she didn't have a full view of the situation and the complex feelings he might have.

Anyone anyone else find some of the pieces of the brothers fascinating...on one hand the fun brother has clearly been trying to over compensate and prove he isn't fun which isn't exactly healthy but does make me think of how branch enjoys some boring things as well as some darker stuff. Like a underground bunker. The safty exit parallel XD and branch not minding the sad country song with this guy being into sad book club and branch being into poetry. Nkt to mention him taking care of Viva and understanding some of her issues much like Branch had that dynamic with Poppy sometimes reversed with her being the one to be more positive and get him out of his paranoia with also him being the more practical guy providing the safty exits so to speak.

Branch and the eldest brother have survival aspects and skills and relying on that as a first resort(like branch and his whittled spears) and big brother with his weird shock starfish that didn't dissolve the Diamond and thinking of a diamond hammer. With the elder being more on the traveling side but still jumping in to help like branch did eventually with poppy. Or when he left to school when barbs letter arrived. But also both write now...branch having written lyrics or poems at least and the elder having written their past songs abd both getting a bit defense at times.

The heartthrob is clearly good at scheduals to some degree with running a restraunt and a romantic with his wife which we know branch has a heart throb romance side ;). And Branch did work out like bruce/spruce used to in the past.(which I like how comfortable the Dad was was in his body since he didn't need to work out anymore and was on a safe island after his solo career) and has his own considerate side that he knew he'd be inconviencing his wife. Not to mention both get goaded by their loved ones into the practice when both were reluctant at first.

And of course the sensative brother who is smart and more practical in knowing what would shatter the diamond and figuring out it was a trap and having that 'really?' Face when the big brother tried to save him by himself much like Branch with some of Poppy's aspects in not thinking through some of the plan and getting ahead of herself.

I'm just saying....mister leader feels to me like he has a slight missing component in tjat he was harsh to try to protect his brothers in the purge system they had going on and his brothers hadn't realized the details because he didn't explain it to them(using how he didn't jave a way with words and would touch a nerve with each brother pretty easily each time he tried to reconnect)...and it also makes the situation with poppy make even more sense because if it was prince grisle's first troll...the Bergens would break the rule of leaving the happiest most talented trolls alone so they could make even happier and tastier trolls because Poppy had a similar happy older sister.

Finding out the Bergens would take Poppy probably resulted in the trolls to come up with a desperate plan to save her(hence the tunnels) finally being thought up. And how everyone had to act natural to not Allert the Bergens.

Anyone one have any other thoughts to add about Trolls 3.

also....I found it interesting it didn't occur to John dory that his brothers would want him to stay which while kindof insensative(especially to not think of branches perspect). Make sense when he doesn't get any type of goid welcome from hjs bros and how branch had told him it was just the mission and done and had immediately shut him out at the start...but also felt like John relying on that to protect himself because his other brothers were upset with hjm again and blaming him entirely for the break up. Which deep down he probably did blame himself...but also it seems those trolls alive during that time seemed used to death...and it seemed he thought everyone died and we just kindof glossed over how that probably messed him up? And how we saw viva kindof try to pretend at times she was fine qhen she was clearly hurting real bad.

Also does anyone else think if branch had stayed on the bus then Floyd might not have almost died since they'd be taking all 4 of the other brother's talent and they could have broken out later? Hypothetical? Or no to that?

‐----------------‐-----------------------------

Though honestly it gets really interesting figuring out what each brother knows. The eldest returned and thought everyone was dead and had no way to track them down or assume they were okay after leaving for the mountain. But having no clue the survived until a month ago seeing that concert situation or at least hearing about it. And then of course how he had gone to try to save flyod and tried to find the other brother's while making it to branch...with the best guess a unmarked postcard from bruce/spruce.

Clay seemed separated during the attack or at least came across the survivors that escaped in the other tunnels and then got trapped in the golf course trying to make it safe and care for the traumatized survivors from the attack but he knew of the escape plan so at least assumed branch and grandma had gotten out...while viva didn't know if poppy or er dad was okay(specifically poppy).

Especially considering the no trolls left behind aspect might have led her to believe peppy was at strong risk of dying and how poppy had been a target...and how there was probably risk of being found in the earlier years since the cook was looking for them.

But it didn't seem to occur to him that rosiepuff might die and leave branch alone....maybe because he heard about the escape plan from viva.

Bruce/Spruce had his own family and a seemingly successful career and resteraunt so couldn't just up and leave but it seems unclear how much he knew? Like it didn't seem like he assumed they were all dead like the elder did. And he did at least send a post card to the eldest once...so maybe he also found out a way to contact or at least assume some pop trolls were alive after the second movie as more trolls stopped isolating and mixing more?

And of course we know alot of people dodn't know where to find the pop trolls in the forest anyway and how risky it can be to travel if you don't know what your doing. And how there was some common pop trolls bad/judged knowledge hovering happening previously with all the seperated troll sections.

Also..anyone else trying to piece together what thus all means for the king? Did he assume she was crushed or eaten? Or that she had escaped? Of course he couldn't leave the main group behind to go looking for personal reasons since he is a leader and tge bergen trauma was fresh and they needed to work on settling in a new place. Did the king just have the issue where he thought she died and he was shocked poppy didn't remember her but it was too painful to bring up due to his own grief? Which he couldn't linger on since he had to be the leader and didn't know how to adress it because Poppy had such a positive view of how he saved everyone since he literally went back and used the clothes off his back to save a while bunch of them. Like I have heard of the grief being so bad that some parents don't bring it up. Heck even in animation it happened in barbie with the Pegasus movie.

Anyway specifically any thoughts about

JOHN DORY

John Dory

But any others are also appreciated. Leave notes or reblog with your thoughts if your nervoous and need permission!

Also is it just me or were they using the hair less in this movie?

[astercontrol]

Latest news from the Asterbrain Pattern-Recognizer: How a butt joke led to a religious analysis of the whole TRON 1982 cast.

So, today, for… strange and mysterious Aster-specific reasons… I was looking for a character who could be written as Catholic.

And because Tron is always on my brain, I went straight for those characters.

Now, though I was technically raised Roman Catholic, my own family's faith and customs were pretty secular, and I certainly never developed any notion that I could know other Catholics on sight.

And, while TRON leans heavily into religious themes from the Program viewpoint, the Users don't say or do much that would indicate their own religion. All I can think of, offhand, is a few references to Christmas-- so brief and vague that they might not even be enough to imply anyone being Christian.

So, we might just have to go by character names... and the associations that an audience familiar with stereotypes and archetypes would have with them.

Alan Bradley: Both given name and surname seem to be British in origin; could be coded as Anglican or Methodist or some other form of Protestant, but in the absence of other clues I don't think viewers would give much thought to his religion or his ethnic background. He's basically designed to look like 1980's American audiences' idea of the most normal, standard everyday guy.

Lora Baines: Probably also of British origin, though that spelling of the first name is uncommon. Like Alan, there might be some vague assumption of Protestantism, but not a whole lot of thought given to it.

Walter Gibbs: Last name, again, seems to come from England, and the actor's accent sounds to me like maybe it's attempting to be British… but that might just be how older Hollywood actors had been trained to talk, back then. I hear similar voices in old movies a LOT. Again I'm not sure audiences would immediately think anything about his religion (although his line about programs and their "spirits" ties very closely into the… animism of the whole digital-world side of things).

(Wow, so far lots of names from England, and lots of reinforcement of the idea that those names are so default as to go unnoticed. Probably says something about society, and/or about me and my viewpoint on it. ...Moving on.)

Ed Dillinger: that surname seems to have originated separately in both Germany and England; going by his accent it's clearly England, so audiences would probably guess Anglican. (If they thought anything about that name at all beyond the 1930's gangster connotation.)

Roy Kleinberg: very unambiguously Jewish name, thank you Legacy and The Next Day! (as of 1982 we only knew him as Popcorn Coworker, which could have been anything, since there is, to my knowledge, no religion with dietary restrictions against popcorn.)

Kevin Flynn: ...okay! this is the most Irish name I have seen in a long time! We may have our Catholic-coded character, folks. (Although he might be primarily "luck of the Irish" coded, LOL.)

(they found him under the rainbow, like a leprechaun on his pot of gold)

And, completing this analysis, I've found that it felt much more worthwhile than the joke I had in mind when I started.

Truly, the journey outweighs the destination here.

Yes, my idea did require a Catholic and someone else unfamiliar with Catholicism-- the joke itself remaining agnostic on which of them, exactly, was being made fun of.

But it was such a silly, throwaway joke that could have been a two-line shitpost, and certainly did not NEED to be about Tron characters.

My mind, though, will go off on whatever tangents it wishes.

....the butt joke, in case you wanted it:

"So, you Catholics only listen to the Pope when he is… talking out of his ass?" "His seat, man. Cathedra means seat."

[elleashling]

so i watched the fnaf movie and i have some thoughts. mostly not good but certainly some thoughts!

(FNAF MOVIE SPOILERS. DO NOT READ BELOW IF YOU DO NOT WANT THEM)

unpopular opinion but the fnaf movie was frustrating to me because i didn’t feel like it followed the lore at All. like i appreciated all the references (kicked my feet and scream whispered in the theater to my mom when i saw the racing game print on the shirt of the guy who dies in the kitchen) but like the overarching plot made no sense to me. here are some rambling points. long post incoming

Plot Fails IMO

why did afton kidnap garrett (who is nonexistent in the games afaik) from a Campground? this is completely unrelated to the typical afton kidnappings and seems like a major stretch

why is vanessa his (afton’s) daughter? this feels like they tried to smash steel wool lore and scott cawthon lore together and failed worse than steel wool failed at making security breach have a point

why do we care about the mike schmidt namedrop if it isn’t an alias for afton’s son like in the games? why does afton recognize the last name and specifically get mike to work the job, then say he didn’t want mike to even get involved. my brother in christ YOU INVOLVED HIM

yet another piece of media where afton randomly dies. except Different. i don’t understand what is going on here this isn’t how it happened it’s a literal rewriting of the canon lore

the drawings thing was also very odd. the whole point of the animatronics coming to kill you originally in 1 and 2 was BECAUSE they knew an adult had killed them and they thought mike was william. there was no special drawing mind control. felt once again like a steel wool lore transplant, extending control over vanny (vanessa) to the animatronics

Springtrap For Fanservice™️. god im so tired of this stop jamming him in places he wasn’t in to start with

when would this take place even? i estimated somewhere between 1 and 3, clearly fazbear’s shut down but it’s obviously not to the point of fnaf 3 yet? why do they need a guard then? idk

abby schmidt? who

Other Odd Stuff

there was a weird split between horrifying fates and drawn out gore and people being cut in half in impossible ways and….. cutting the tension in half by building a table fort and tickling a child to death. really? every single climatic buildup in this movie felt like it was followed by comedy

my mother pointed out watching this movie that it continues a trope “autistic child provides key help through special connection with main plot problem, and then is immediately cured”. i have to say i kind of agree because why else call her mentally ill at the beginning? go out of the way to show her being by herself drawing (which is FINE! it’s OKAY!!) and then socializing with other kids after the ghost deal is over?

mike schmidt dream plotline. why

what was the point of aunt jane???

vanessa throwing the pills away was probably illegal in multiple ways lmao

sigh… as a long term fnaf fan i really wanted to like this movie but it came off as a whole lot of fanservice and diluting the story for mainstream while blending the new owner’s lore in poorly. i liked fnaf when it ended at fnaf 6!!!!!!!!!! aaaaaaahhhaggagah!!!!!!

if you want to contradict anything i said here (or if ur another big fan and you know smth i said is wrong lol) absolutely feel free i love lore and talking about it and if you love lore like me come chat and talk abt this w me!!!

tldr don’t get me wrong i enjoyed it for the references and the little details, matpat and cory and the living tombstone made me giggle, but i really thought they messed up the plot a Lot..

might add more in reblogs as i think of it

yeah anyways ill probably make another post rambling about all the references and stuff lol

[adminbryantsaki]

Ch.5 First day of school part 1

(This Au will follow the main events of the canon. In this AU, the tropes of fantasy and Omegaverse apply. The dynamics that can apply to people are Alpha, Luna, Beta, and Omega. The main ship is Erasermic x oc. I do not own the characters of My Hero Academia. Horikoshi Kōhei does. I also don’t own any of the fast-food franchises or any of the other references to other super hero movies or groups.  I own Bryant Saki. Here is her info Please do not steal.)

(These are the Headcanons. Please read these before the fic.

Wc: 5,575 Tw: Omegaverse Shenanigans, polygamy, PTSD, Breeding kink, Breeding, trauma, fear, ED (eating disorder).

Prologue Chapter Four ~ Chapter Six

Over the next few months, I honed my new Admin Power and securing a job for a steady form of income before I started my job as an Admin at U.A. I went for the job at the radio station and I grew close to Present Mic as I worked alongside him. I would work overtime with him at the station long after the normal crew left for the day working on scripts for the week and promotional ideas. On nights like this, Present Mic, or Hizashi Yamada as I learned from his character profile on my tablet would order food into the station when we would work late into the night. When we were done working, he offered to give me a ride to the train station since it was dark out and he wanted to make sure that I got home safely, which I thought was nice of him. The following months before my first day at U.A. went by quickly as I used the time to hone my quirk and Admin power until I had good control of my powers. But April 1st came sooner than I thought. I woke up early the morning of my first day and changed into my hero suit before I left my room to get a quick breakfast and heading out to the train station to head to U.A.

When I arrived, I immediately went into the school and found myself walking the halls along with the entire student body as they were buzzing with anticipation and excitement as they were getting oriented with the school. I was following the map on my tablet trying to find my way to the homeroom of Class 1-A. I managed to find the room despite getting lost a couple of times. I managed to arrive a little early at the door of the classroom. I took in the massive size of the door, hesitating to walk in and introduce myself even though I figured that they would recognize me even after all these months. I knew that Mic would know because we’re co-workers at the radio station, but I wasn’t quite sure about Shouta remembering me. I was nervous to enter the classroom and introduce myself but I took a moment to calm myself down. You got this, Admin. You can just walk in there and talk to them like normal adults. Yes, you have feelings for them, but don’t let those feelings cloud your judgement. You can do this. I said to mentally to myself before I knocked on the door and waited a moment as I didn’t want to just burst through the door and disturb them. I heard a laugh and some rustling on the other side of the door before another hushed chuckle and quiet for a moment. “Come in.” I heard what I thought was Shouta’s voice say. I opened the door and found him sitting at his desk, waiting for his students to arrive I noticed Present Mic sitting on the edge of Shouta’s desk on the same side that Shouta was sitting on. They seemed to be looking over the rosters for the classes and seeing who they would have this year. I did recall that Shouta had been known to expel then re-enroll a whole class of his just to teach them a lesson on sacrifice. I didn’t get why at the time but I’m sure I would find out eventually. Both heroes looked up from what they were doing to greet me. “Hello there, can I help you with something?” Shouta asked as he watched me from his desk as I stood in the doorway. Present Mic nudged Shouta’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear. “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re the girl that Fatgum introduced to us all those months ago. You’ve really changed since then. Its good to see you again. Is there anything we can help you with?” He asked as his demeanor softened and he shifted in his seat. “I’ve been assigned to be Admin of the teachers and staff of this school. I’ve also been assigned to stick by your side today.” I spoke. Shouta sighed and rested his head in his hand. “Nezu did say something about his.” He spoke and I walked up to the desk. “Alright what he did he say about it? Also, what is your plan today?” I asked. “Nezu said that several people saying that they are Admins would be coming into the school this year and covering different classes and people in the school. But if you stay out of the way, we should be fine. My plan for today is to wait for my students to come to the classroom and I plan to take them out onto one of the P.E. grounds and run them through some tests to see how well they can use their quirks because junior high schools don’t allow much usage of quirks with their students. I have a copy of my class’s roster if you’d like it before we head down to the grounds. Would you like to accompany me to the grounds?” He explained and asked. “Yes. I’d like to accompany you to the P.E. grounds and don’t worry, I’ll be out of the way. I’m only here to make sure everything plays out right, and I’ll take the roster sheet.” I spoke and Shouta handed me the sheet that I added into my tablet even though I already had the list of students on my tablet.

“It will be a little while before the students will arrive. Make yourself comfortable.” He spoke before standing up and leaving the room with Mic. “I’ll be back later. I just need to file some papers.” He told me and I nodded and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall as I looked through the student’s profiles. Soon all the students came into the classroom and took their seats, either pulling out a book to read or talking amongst their new classmates and introducing themselves.

I watched them get into their seats and wonder where their teacher was. I saw a couple of the students stand up and begin to head to the door when I saw the door to the classroom open and find that Shouta was on the other side laying on the ground and drinking down a jelly pack before he stood up and introduced himself as their teacher before telling them to gather their things and head down to the P.E. Grounds instead of going to orientation like all the other students which made a couple of the girls upset but they complied. I noticed Shouta gesture to me for me to come to him which I did.

“Follow them down to the P.E. Grounds. There should be some where you can watch them from. But stick around. I’d like to talk to you more afterwards.” He told me quietly and I nodded. I waited for the students to file out of the classroom and follow their teacher down to the P.E. Grounds before I trailed after them, looking up the next set of variables on my tablet and the information on Eraserhead and Present Mic and keeping both files pinned as I had a feeling that I’d be reading over their information a lot in the next few days. The students broke off and went a different direct to the P.E. Grounds after getting instructions from their teacher. I followed after Shouta still as he took a different route and met them at the grounds soon after. On this alternate route, Shouta paused and turned to me, again gesturing for me to come closer to him and I did. When I did, he grabbed me by the waist and kissed me on the cheek. I felt my face heat up and look back at him in surprise.

“You shouldn’t have done that. You’re married to another person.” I told him and he smiled.

“You seem to have forgotten that my mate and I are in an open relationship. We are looking to form a pack and I told you months ago that we haven’t found the right person yet. Hizashi and I talked over the past few months after he came home from working with you all day and we decided together that you’d be the perfect fit for us. If you’re worried about it, Hizashi gave me permission to pursue you. Think about it and get back to us.” He spoke and turned away with a small smirk. I was frozen in place, processing what Shouta just told me. I then followed him out to the grounds and found some bushes nearby that I could discreetly watch the variables play out from. I also found Shouta’s colleague and another one of the characters I was assigned to hiding behind the bushes. It was none other than All Might. He was wearing a golden-yellow suit and was shocked to see someone else hiding in the bushes with him. I held out my hand to shake his and introduce myself. “Hello there, I’m Admin Bryant. You must be All Might. I’m only here to watch Class 1-A go through their Quirk assessment tests.” I spoke and All Might shook my hand back. “It is good to meet you, Miss Bryant. I’m here watching the students as well. Since their homeroom teacher has been known to be harsh on his students.” He spoke and turned his attention as Aizawa began to run his students through the tests. “I read about that. It says here that Eraserhead has been known to expel full classes of students only to re-enroll them as a lesson of sacrifice and to not get their hopes up on the first day. It is a bit harsh but there must be a reason why he’s doing this.” I spoke when I listened in on the instructions that Eraserhead was giving his students through my tablet.

After one of the girls, I think her name was Ochako Uraraka mentioned that they were going to miss orientation, Shouta said this:

“If you really want to make the big leagues, you can’t waste time on pointless ceremonies.”

This made his group of students gasp and without turning back to look at them, he kept speaking.

“Here at U.A., we’re not tethered to tradtions, that means that I get to run my class however I see fit.” He spoke and turned to face the young students that had been assigned to his class. Shouta says something else that I didn’t quite catch then focuses his attention on one of the students near the front of the crowd of students standing near the edge of the field and picks him out. This student has blonde hair and I remember him having quite the explosive personality and scoring the highest points in the entrance exam.

“Bakugo, you managed to get the most points on the entrance exam. What was your farthest distance throw with a softball in junior high?”

“Sixty-seven meters, I think.” He responded. “Right, try doing it with your quirk.” Shouta instructed and had Bakugo walk out onto the field with the softball in hand. Bakugo took the softball and stepped into a circle made from chalk and took a moment before throwing the softball with the help of his quirk. The softball landed a few feet away and a new number appeared on the small, almost cell-phone like device in Shouta’s hand. The new number was 705.2 meters which was a huge improvement, even though Bakugo had used his quirk to make the softball go farther. This amazes and excites the rest of the class to do their best in the rest of the tests, thinking that the tests would be fun.  This is shut down quickly by Shouta’s next line. “So, you think this is fun, huh? You have three years here to become a hero. You think its all going to be games and playtime? Idiots. Today, you’ll compete in eight physical tests to gage your potential. Whoever comes in last has none and will be expelled immediately.” Shouta told his students with a sly smirk on his face which shocked the students.

Ochako spoke up that the idea of immediate expulsion if you didn’t get the highest score wasn’t fair and Shouta commented back.

“Oh, and you think natural disasters are? Or power-hungry villains, hm? Or catastrophic accidents that wipe out whole cities, no. The world is full of unfairness it’s a hero’s job to try to combat that unfairness. If you wanna be a pro, you’re going to have to push yourself to the brink. For the next three years, U.A. will throw one hardship after another at you, so go beyond, plus ultras style, and show me that you do belong here.” Shouta told his students.

“Now then, we’re just wasting time by talking. Let the games begin.”

This was the end of the variable in the P.E. Grounds and beginning the next eight physical tests that I watched all of them play out. I noticed All Might’s reactions to how all the students performed in the tests, especially Midoriya who I knew was his protégé. Watching each of the tests play out was quite the long and boring process but it was worth keeping track of the points that would add up to their end scores at the end of all the tests. There was something off about the kid with the navel laser seemed off so I took note of it and noticed All Might watching me. “What are you doing on that tablet if you don’t mind me asking.” He spoke and pointed to my device which I showed him what I was seeing.

“I’m able to get a closer look at what the students are doing from right here. Also, I know your connection with Izuku Midoriya. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone and your secret is safe with me.” I spoke and marked off each of the tests on the list of variables as they were finished. All Might looked at me with a bit of concern which was understandable then nodded. “Alright. I trust you to keep my secret.” He spoke and turned his attention to the class as they were beginning the next test. I turned my attention back to the tablet and slipped into a sort of trance. “You know, things will go to hell in the next year. By this time next year, we will be recovering from a horrible battle that is the result of several lives lost and All for One. He will have transferred his quirk to his own protégé. It makes him almost indestructible.” I spoke just above a whisper and All Might had heard me and a look of terror was now spread across his face. “How do you know his name?” He asked. I snapped out of my trance and laughed to myself. “I did some research. Looked at some historical records from local archives. If you’re going to ask if I can prevent all this chaos and destruction from happening just because I’m an Admin, I can’t. It all depends on the events and variables that play out between now and then. Its even too far in the future to know if that’s the variable that’s set-in stone yet or not. Us Admins are only here to make sure that events like these physical test play out according to what is shown to us on the tablets we are given. And so far, these variables are playing out accordingly.” I spoke and checked off another box on the list.

All Might shifted his position and looked at me with his infamous smile. 

“You know, you remind me of my old sidekick. He too had the ability to see into the future. You’re going to do great as an Admin here. I wish you the best of luck.” He spoke before going back to watching Midoriya. I smiled and thanked him before watching in anticipation as the tests were over and the final scores were being tallied up and shown on a holographic screen for all the students to see.

I could see that Midoriya was more worried out of all his classmates when the scores came up on the screen. He knew that he was going to be the one that went home when he saw his name at the bottom of the screen and prepared himself mentally to begin packing his things and heading home. that was until Shouta spoke and said that no one would be going home today and that it was just a tactic to get everyone to perform at their best. This was a new change in his usual pattern that was usually him expelling his whole class just to re-enroll them again. I thought this was a bit odd and I chose to put it as a task to research later. I turned to see that All Might was still watching the class, probably just as relieved as I was that none of the students were going home. I then suggested that when intern week came up that it would be prudent to recommend Sir Nighteye or even his old mentor, an older Pro Hero known as Gran Torino so Midoriya has a safe place to go so he can learn how to use One for All in his own way.

Next, I heard Shouta tell his students to go get changed, head to lunch, and that the real work would begin tomorrow. After he dismissed his class, he began walking in the direction that All Might and I were hiding in. “I’ll make a note of that, thank you, Miss Admin.” He spoke and stood up, hoping that he could get away from the area before Shouta came over here. He managed to disappear around the corner as Shouta walked up to me after he had finished with his students. “Was everything up to par for you?” He asked. I looked up from something I was doing on my tablet to him. “Yes. Everything played out nicely.” I told him and smiled. The hero looked back at me and smiled back. “Why don’t you come an eat lunch with Mic and I.” He suggested. My mind began swirling with the thoughts of if I should accept his ask to eat lunch with them or not. I then decided that it wouldn’t hurt to have just one lunch time because I would be working closely with them for the foreseeable future. But this could also be apart of their plan to get me to like them more by spending the hour lunch with them. “Oh, I guess so.” I responded, immediately regretting it as I knew that my boss, Hunter would reprimand me later. I kept my head down as I followed Shouta down the maze of hallways through the school, stopping in the teacher’s lounge to pick up his lunch and asking if I had something to eat which I pulled a hefty bento box out of my backpack and showed it to him. “Wow, Fatgum must’ve made that for you. Mic should be waiting for us on the rooftop.” He spoke and led me to a quiet hallway that had a door with a sign the read: ‘Rooftop access.’ Shouta opened the door and led me up the flight of stairs. “We normally have lunch on the rooftop or in one of our classrooms. Mic usually picks where we eat and he’s supposed to message me about where he picked but he didn’t so I don’t know where he picked today.” He told me. “Then why are we going to the rooftop?” I asked. “This is where we normally go to have lunch. You see, Hizashi and I went to school here and it’s where we would go to have lunch. Guess we chose to keep up tradition. Tell me, what’s home like for you?” He spoke and opened the door at the top of the stairs that led to the roof. “I wasn’t aware that you and Present Mic were alumni of the school. That’s interesting. I’m from New York. I would sit on the roof as well with my brothers and eat pizza as we would watch the sunset, the stars, or even the sunrise. Especially if one of us was sad or upset, or even just celebrating something or we just wanted to hang out together, one of us or all of us would do that. It depended on what was going on. I miss doing that sometimes.” I told him as we walked to a section on the roof where we could see Hizashi waiting for us and waving at his partner.

“So, you’re from out of the country? What brought you here to Japan?” He asked. “I wanted to explore the world so I came here. I also wanted to learn more about my family history so why not come here and find out what made my parents want to leave Japan?” I spoke and sat down uneasily on one of the benches across from the men. Hizashi was set up already with his own lunch and some extra food too which made me feel a little out of place having my own lunch in hand.

“I see. Well, we’re here so let’s eat.” Shouta spoke and opened-up his lunch and eating. I opened my own bento box that brought from home that Taishiro had packed for me the night before and began to eat the contents.

Hizashi greeted me and I smiled before I swallowed my bite.

“Hi. I hope its okay that I joined the two of you, Eraserhead invited me.” I spoke and looked over to the hero. “You don’t have to be so formal when we’re not around my students, the other staff of the school, or out in public. Here, you can call me Shouta and you can call Mic, Hizashi when we’re alone.” He told me and I nodded, thinking that they were trying to pull something off like what Superman and Clark Kent did. Shouta smiled and gestured for me to sit next to him which I did, picking up my lunchbox and carrying it over to the empty spot in between the heroes. I felt so stiff and nervous being between the two. I also felt out of place being alone with them here. I knew that I should have refused Shouta’s request and gone to have lunch with the other Admins. But now I ate in silence, listening to the men chat amongst themselves as they devoured their meals. I finished mine as well and set my now empty bento box back into my bag and sat there stiffly as I still had some time before class was to start back up again for the afternoon classes, so I picked up my tablet and began to scroll through some of the more mundane variables that I didn’t need to attend to so I technically had the rest of the day off but I needed to process other variables so I had my day full. I sighed and Shouta looked to me. “You seem nervous. What’s going on? You don’t need to be nervous around friends.” He told me. I looked back at him and relaxed a little at his comment. Typically, Admins were to stay in a professional manner when around the people they were assigned to but it felt good to relax around these two at least. I knew I could around Hizashi because we had spent the last ten months working side by side at the radio station and got to know each other a little bit but I felt like I had to act in a more professional manner around Shouta that he carried himself and spoke to others.

“I’m glad that you consider me a friend… I know that Hizashi does because I’ve known him a bit longer. Its just that I’m an Administrator of Care and this is my first official day on this job and usually the Admins are to limit their interactions with the people that they are assigned, so I’m a little worried that my boss is going to be upset that I’m up here with you two.” I spoke and gave him a smile.

“Why would your boss be upset with you hanging out with other people than your co-workers? Aren’t we technically your co-workers too?” Hizashi asked, clearly his curiosity was getting the better of him.

“Everyone needs to have healthy interactions with other people than who they work with.” Shouta added. I shut my eyes tightly and gripped the fabric of my pants.

“This is a precaution so the Admins assigned to people in the field don’t get emotionally attached to the people they are assigned to. They are expected to find a friend within the group of Admins like everyone else.” I said to them in a serious tone as I took the rules I was given seriously as punishment for breaking one too many rules resulted with an Admin in the most secure jail in the universe they were in. In this case, I would be locked up in Tartarus Prison if I broke one too many rules for the Admins. Both heroes looked at me with a concerned look on his face.

“The Admin’s organization seems to be a little strict. They should loosen up on some of the socialization rules. I think all the Admins should be able to make friends with the people they are assigned to, what do you think, Hizashi?” Shouta spoke.

“I think that’s a great idea. Besides, I think Bryant and I are already friends since we’ve known each other for a few months by working at the Station.” He spoke and looked to me.  I smiled, feeling good that I had friends now. “I guess it would be okay to have friends outside of the organization. It makes sense because the two of you have been friends since you went to sch-school here.” I stuttered a little then covered my mouth with my hand and shut my eyes tightly. How unprofessional of you. I thought to myself.

I felt Hizashi’s gloved hand rest on my shoulder and I looked at him. “Stuttering is alright, you know. No one is going to judge you here.” He told me and I looked to see Shouta nodded too and picking out some food that Hizashi had brought as extra up to eat.

“He’s right you know. I’m curious, what made you want to be an Admin?” Shouta asked as he ate his food. I looked over to him to try and make eye contact with him. “I wanted to care for people…I had lost control of my life at one point and became a puppet to an evil person. I eventually broke free and I searched for something that I could have control over. Seeing the ability come up to watch variables of a timeline that I’ve never known of before seemed interesting. As an Admin, you’re assigned to a set of people that you follow the variables for. I was given the teachers of the school. I remember meeting the two of you months ago when Taishiro brought you over that one day but I didn’t know the other members of the staff here at U.A. All the Admins are given tablets that are used to watch the variables play out and keep track of the information on the people they are responsible for. That’s why I know a bit more about the two of you without you knowing… It seems odd but not every Admin wants to take part in conversation with the people they are assigned to.” I told them, unaware of my hunger pains and that I had put an arm around my stomach as I was talking.  Hizashi seemed to notice my gesture even though I didn’t. “Are you hungry still? I brought more than enough food for the two of us.” He spoke and handed me a container with what looked to be rice with fried chicken on top of it. I took the container and listened to Shouta as he spoke. “That makes sense. I think that you’ll be a good Admin, and I agree, you should eat something.” He told me. I sighed and slowly ate the food I was given. I noticed Hizashi was pushing other small amounts of food to me as he picked through and packed up other food that would be saved for later. I almost regretted eating the smaller amounts of food that Hizashi pushed to me, knowing that Taishiro would make a larger meal for dinner.

“I’m glad you think so. I already know so much that has happened and what’s going to happen that it’s almost overwhelming.” I spoke as I ate the food. Shouta looked at me an raised an eyebrow as Hizashi pushed a little bit of some kind of dessert to me, wanting to make sure that I didn’t go hungry.

“Oh?” I heard him speak. “Yeah… I can’t really talk about it though.” I spoke and finished the rest of my food and noticed the dessert, but politely refused it as I was full already. Hizashi took it back and put it into his lunch cooler. “Thank you for the food.” I spoke then stood up slowly to walk around a bit to help with digestion, so I looked out over the landscape that made up the campus of the school grounds and the surrounding area. “I didn’t know how pretty the school grounds were.” I spoke quietly.

“It always has been.” Hizashi spoke and walked up to me, putting a hand on my shoulder, and showing me where the different buildings are. “Over there are the gymnasiums. Sometimes the kids will want to train alone or with their friends. But they are close enough to the main building that we can still interfere if something were to go wrong with the students. As we were watching, I saw some of the students down in the gyms already training under the supervision of some of the other teachers.

“That’s good.” I spoke, hearing my tablet go off and I went to check it. I had a notification that I needed to head down to the forest to train with some of the other Admins. “I’m sorry to cut this short but I should get going. I have training with the other Admins.” I spoke as I gathered my things and headed to the door that would take me back to the various floors of the school. My stomach growled a bit more and I paused. Shouta followed me and handed me a small bag of food. “Please eat some more before you go. Not eating enough can lead to fatigue; judging by how your quirk works, how long you can use your quirk is by how much you’ve eaten. I won’t have someone burn themselves and their quirk out because they didn’t fuel it properly.” Shouta told me and I accepted the food, unwrapping the food to reveal that it was a giant steamed bun that I thanked him for. I usually wouldn’t accept this because I was already super self-conscious because of my curvier and heavier set body because of not knowing how to use my quirk properly over the past ten or so months.

“Make sure to eat enough. If someone has a problem with it, refer them to Hizashi or I. We will deal with them, okay?” He spoke. I wanted to leave so badly but I nodded and held the knob of the door as I ate the steamed bun that had sausage, egg, bacon, and cheese in it. “ We don’t need you passing out on us, now do we?” He told me. I swallowed my bite and looked at him. “No, but I won’t pass out from lack of food. It’s lack of water from what I was told that I would pass out from.” I spoke as I ate another bite of the bun, only leaving a small amount in my hand. Hizashi joined us, now having packed up the food and slung the food cooler over his shoulder and was heading back down to his next classroom. Once I finished the bun and threw away the wrapper, I said goodbye to Shouta and Hizashi, hurrying to open a portal to the ground just outside the forested area of the school campus where the other Admins had already gathered and were waiting for me. I stepped through the portal, only to be met by a very frustrated and fuming Hunter Smith.

“What the hell do you think you were doing by spending your lunch period with not one, but TWO of your characters?! It doesn’t matter now that this lunch is over. Just know that you will be spending your future lunch hours with one of your co-workers even if it has to be me! Now get your weapon out and get ready to train.” Hunter scolded me. I nodded and kept my eyes down. I pulled my pen out of my pocket and clicked it open, watching as my beautiful scythe unfolded and I carried it into the forest after Hunter.