#everything Robert writes happens to Jack

[lesbianpepsi]

my love, my life

pairing: jenna ortega x autistic!fem!reader

summary: Jenna was the rock you never knew you needed in your life

link to request

words: 4.007k (im sorry)

warnings: verbally abusive parents, ableism, ableist remarks, r parents are dicks, r has a meltdown, swearing, bad writing

authors note: if i got anything wrong please correct me in a respectful and kind way please, other than that i hope you enjoy this:)

You were the one who begged your parents to allow you to start acting at such a young age, being utterly fixated on the world of acting after seeing Spider-Man for the first time.

In the beginning your parents didn't like the idea of you becoming a child actor, especially after what they heard from a myriad of news sources of how troubled child actors became when they reached their teens.

But after a lot of pleading they reluctantly allowed you to audition for anything that came up. 

You were the young age of six when you got your first real role, it was for a random soup company commercial, it was nothing major but it was something. 

Acting brought you a large sense of comfort, already knowing what was going to happen as you memorised your lines in a blink of an eye. 

You always had a struggle with portraying emotions but eventually you got the hang of it and became much better.

At eight years old you got your first big break; the role of a little sister's killer. The role of Jill Roberts' little sister in Scream Four. 

You blew up. 

At first you weren't a fan of all the attention and even got quite upset over it, the large change of attention by strangers on the street scaring you. 

Your parents on the other hand were absolutely thrilled and began auditioning you for many other movies and tv shows. 

You weren't properly diagnosed with autism till the age of fourteen; long after you had become a child actor. You were shocked but found comfort in that information, it was as if you finally found out the answer to longing question. 

Your parents on the other hand did not believe the doctors when they diagnosed you with autism, refusing to believe the fact and that you were just simply dramatic. 

As your fame grew, your stress and anxiety only did too. It got to the point where you could barely get through an interview before going completely non-verbal for a few days. 

Your parents called you dramatic since you could act in front of cameras but couldn't answer simple questions in front of a few people with flashing cameras.

You defended yourself that it wasn't the same, it never was. You didn't know what was going to happen in those interviews, while you knew everything when acting. 

As the years passed you became even quieter and couldn't attend almost any interview or premier. You stopped auditioning for movies and shows when you were sixteen, deciding to take a two year break of acting. 

Your parents were enraged by that fact and barely interacted with you, leaving you alone in one small house as they bought another large one for themselves with your money. 

You didn't care, as long as you were alone you were happy.

A few days after your eighteenth birthday you received a call, asking if you were willing to come back to play an old role.

Maxine "Max" Roberts, the younger sister of Jill Roberts. 

In the beginning you were reluctant but after a few days of thinking you accepted the role. 

Without a doubt, that was the best decision of your entire life, career wise aside. 

In the set of Scream Five you reconnected with old friends such as Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox and even David Arquette officially as grown adult and no longer a child.

You also managed to make long life friends such as Mikey Madison, Mason Gooding, Dylan Minnette, Jack Quaid and you even meet your favourite youtuber James A. Janisse who made a small cameo in the movie. 

But the person you met on the Scream Five set that changed your life was the actress who played Tara Carpenter; the first Scream character to survive an opening kill. 

Jenna Ortega. 

You and Jenna instantly connected, a feeling you had never felt in your entire lifetime. Jenna understood you better than your own parents, even treating you better than them. 

Before Scream Five was even wrapped you and Jenna began dating; both of you absolutely head over heels for each other.

Jenna helped you tremendously throughout the process after Scream Five was released, helping you in interviews if you got nervous and felt your throat tightening up. Helping you in any premier by always holding your hand if you wanted to squeeze hers if you got too angsty.

She did so much more than your parents ever did. It wasn't a wonder why you hadn't had a proper conversation with them since you were sixteen. 

You were fine with that fact; you didn't need them anymore. You had Jenna. 

—————

"So, I was thinking of some mac 'n cheese for dinner?" Jenna suggested once the credits of 'The Amazing Spider-Man' began playing throughout yours and Jenna's small living room. 

You grinned happily at her as you tapped your finger along with the music that played with the credits. "Well if you're offering of course."

Jenna scrunched her nose adorably as she smiled at you, leaning closer to give you a quick peck on the forehead as she stood up. "I'm presuming you watch the end credit scene?" She asked you as she leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.

You nodded your head as your eyes remained fixated on the screen. "You presume correctly, my love."

"As always, my life." Jenna replied, finishing off your nickname with a small laugh as she entered the kitchen. 

It was a silly joke that started when Jenna found out your all time favourite band was Abba. She had made it her life goal to memorise each of your favourite songs; one of those songs being 'My love, My life'.

You smiled to yourself as you unconsciously played with the bottom of the graphic Spiderman shirt Jenna gave you for your birthday months ago. The material of the shirt was your favourite and didn't irritate you like many other fabrics did. 

After a few minutes passed the end credit scene began playing as the smell of mac 'n cheese started to infiltrate your nose, your smile softened. 

Mumbling the lines along with the characters you were interrupted when three knocks were at the door.

You ignored the fact it was an awkward number as you headed towards the door, confused as to who it could be. 

Maybe it was one of Jenna's siblings you guessed, but as you unlocked the door your jaw dropped as you saw who was standing behind the door with crooked smiles.

"Mother? Father?" You asked bewildered as you stared at them with wide eyes, you hadn't seen them in years. 

Your mother smiled sweetly, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she took a step closer to you with open arms, to which you took a step back at. 

"Y/n, honey, it's been so long." Your mother cooed as she lowered her arms, a small look of hurt in her eyes at your rejection at touch. 

"Four years. It's been four years." You confirm with a deadpan look as you looked at them, they still looked pretty much the same since you last saw them. "Why're you two here?" You asked them rather bluntly, your eyes narrowing questioningly on your father who didn't have the sweet smile your mother had on her face. 

"Is it so wrong for parents to come visit their only daughter? We've missed you so much after all these years." She said as she wrapped an arm around your fathers bicep, leaning into him. Your fathers jaw clenched momentarily as he nodded his head stiffly. "We've missed you so much, rabbit." Your father mumbled out in a gruff tone of voice.

A smile grazed your lips at the nickname your father used to call you when growing up, there was no backstory to it, it was a simple name he had called you for years.

At the nostalgic name you couldn't help to lower your guard as you gave them a genuine smile, to which your parents actually smiled back at you. 

"Y/n?" Jenna's voice broke you off your trance as you snapped your head to the side, Jenna rounding the corner with her hair now in a messy bun.   

Before you could get a word out you heard your mother gasp as she freed your father from her grip, a look of admiration in her eyes as she looked at your girlfriend.

"And you're our Y/n's girlfriend, we've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you." She interrupted, extending her hand out to shake Jenna's.

Jenna glanced at you with a questioning look, you shrugged your shoulders weakly at her look. She sighed as her movie star smile appeared on her face, turning back to face your mother.

"Likewise." She says as she connects her hand with your mothers.

As your mother chatted Jenna's ears off you turned your attention back to your father who was still standing awkwardly in the doorway. 

Your father must've felt eyes on him as he slowly flickered his eyes away from your mothers figure to your eyes, his eyes still as cold as you remembered.

He coughed dryly as he took a singular step towards you, a tight lipped smile on her face as he looked down at you. 

"It's nice to see you again, peanut." He whispered to you, your heart melted at his words. Has your father actually changed? It sure sounded like it. 

"It's nice to see you too, father." You replied back with a whisper, a small smile toyed on your lips. He grinned as he nodded curtly at you before he focused back on your mother.

"Is it alright if we stayed for dinner? It's just we haven't seen our Y/n in such a long time." You heard your mother plead to Jenna, her voice bordering into desperation. 

Jenna's beautiful brown eyes flickered over to you, silently asking you if you were okay with you, you nodded your head. 

She let out a small breath as she nodded her own head, returning to meet your mothers eyes.

"Of course, I hope you don't mind mac 'n cheese." Jenna joked as she took a few steps back, your mother following hot on her trail.

You and your father follow them as you close the front door. Your father turned to look at you as he walked over to the dining table. "You're still obsessed with that?" He asked with what sounded like curiosity to you, meanwhile Jenna's head had snapped back to where you and your father stood at his tone of words which did not sound like it was full of curiosity.

You nodded your head oblivious as you pulled out a chair for him. "Yes I do, it's been my comfort meal for years. I'm surprised you even remembered that." 

He scoffed as he glanced back at you, sitting down in the seat. "I wish I didn't." He grumbled under his breath, thankfully you didn't hear his words as you headed over to the kitchen where your mother and Jenna were at.

Jenna was slowly stirring the pot full of mac 'n cheese as your mother chatted her ear off, a look of fake interest on Jenna's face.

"Do you need help with anything, Jen?" You asked her, interrupting your mother as you moved to stand next to her. She smiled softly at you as she nodded her head. "Could you get the cutlery and bowls out for me please?" You nodded your head as you immediately went to do what she asked for.

Thankfully, your mother left the kitchen as she went to sit down next to your father, whispering to him as their eyes glanced over the apartment.

You grabbed four bowls off of the top shelf with ease as you heard Jenna's hushed voice. 

"Hey," She began, you turned to look at her as you neatly placed the bowls on the counter. "you sure you're okay with them being here?" She finished off in a whisper as she gazed into your eyes. 

You nodded your head as you glanced back at your parents whispering to each other, smiling before you turned to look back at your girlfriend. 

"I'm okay with them being here, really unexpected which annoys me but I haven't seen them in so long." Your tone became even more hushed as you leaned closer to Jenna. "Dad even remembered my nickname and the food I like, that must mean something, right?" 

Jenna sighed as she nodded her head weakly, smiling as weakly as she placed a comforting hand on top of yours. "Okay, if you want them here then they can stay. But the moment you feel like you don't want them here just tell me okay?" 

You nod your head understanding. "Okay, I will, thank you." Jenna gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before she turned back to her pot of mac 'n cheese. 

After a few minutes passed you, Jenna and your parents were seated at your dining table as you all ate your food.

You were sitting in your favourite seat as Jenna sat next to you, your father across from you as your mother sat across from Jenna.

You were eagerly eating your food with a smile on your face, a sense of warmth and comfort hitting you as you ate your food.

"This is really good, Jen, thank you." Jenna's smile managed to make you feel even more at peace. 

"So, Y/n, you got any new movies or shows coming up?" Your mother asked you with intrigue as she slowly ate her food. 

You shook your head as you took another spoonful. "No but I was in the latest Spider-Man movie. It was so cool! I thought I would never be given a chance to be in a Spider-Man movie but I was offered a small role. I even got to design my own Spider-Man character and how she was and -oh my god I even-"

"Lower your voice, Y/n." Your father snapped as he played with his food. "We're not in another room, we're right next to you."

You frowned as you stopped talking immediately, looking down at your half empty bowl embarrassed. "Sorry, father." You said in a voice that you made sure it was quieter than before. 

"And what, baby?" Jenna asked with an encouraging smile on her face, her eyes focused on you and only you. 

You picked up your head as you smiled sheepishly at her. "And I got to meet Daniel Kaluuya who's one of my favourite actors." 

Your father sighed dramatically as he shook his head as he pushed his food around the bowl, he hadn't taken a singular bite of the food.

"How much longer do we have to stay here?" He whispered to your mother in a tone what he thought was low enough, but you and Jenna heard him clearly.

Your eyebrows furrowed together as you loosened your grip on your spoon. "Oh, do you have somewhere else to be?" You asked him sincerely.

He scoffed as he shook his head in disbelief. "Your attitude is still as horrible as I see." 

What? 

"I don't understand. I was asking you a question. How was that giving you attitude?" You asked him again, straightening your posture as you desperately searched for Jenna's hand from under the table.

She quickly interlocked your fingers together, her thumb expertly rubbing softly at your skin in an attempt to soothe you.

Your father dismissed you as he turned to look at his wife, a look of annoyance clear on his face. "Ask her. I'm not staying here much longer with that here." He demanded in a hushed whisper.

A deep frown slowly appeared on your face as you stared between your parents, an uneasy feeling started to grow in your stomach.

"What's he talking about, mother?" She sighed at your words, dropping her spoon into the bowl as she leaned against her hands.

"We need to ask a favour from you, honey." Your throat felt tighter as you swallowed dryly, your grip on Jenna's hand tightened.

"What favour?" You asked her, your eyes flickered back to your father who wasn't even looking at you. Your heart clenched uncomfortably in your chest at the sight.

"Well your father and I have been going through some things lately, and it hasn't been fun. It's been especially hard on your dad." The older woman sighed as she closed her eyes momentarily before she reopened them, her eyes teary as she looked into your eyes. "As your parents, we only ask you one favour, Y/n. We raised you and no parent wants to come grovelling to their own flesh and blood for help."

You stayed silent as you listened to her words, your anxiety was starting to increase at a speed that you hadn't felt in years.

"We need to borrow some money." She finally confessed with a pleading gleam in her eyes. "It's the only thing we've ever asked of you, my sweet child. Please, for your mom and dad." 

You should've known they hadn't changed, you should've known. 

As you stared into your parents eyes you swallowed dryly as you slowly opened your mouth.

"No." You whispered out.

"No?" He repeated in a mocking tone. "No? Are you serious? After all we've done for you?"

Your frown deepened as you averted his piercing gaze, looking down in your lap as you unconsciously started to rub your feet against each other.

"We could've given your spastic ass up for adoption but we didn't. And this is how you repay us? What a wonderful fucking daughter we have." 

You shook your head weakly as your movement with your feet started to become more erratic. 

"Get out of our house, right now." Jenna said coldly, trying to keep her temper under control as she didn't want to yell like your father was doing.

A sniffle was heard from your mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes with a tissue. "My own daughter is betraying her only parents." She mumbled to herself.

It was if your heart was in your throat, the feeling as if it was tightening making you shake your head more violently.

"You see what you're doing, you freak, making your own mother cry." Your father pushed as he stood up, banging his fist against the table loudly. 

You flinched at the noise as you shut your eyes tightly, letting go of Jenna's hand as you wrapped your arms around yourself.  

Jenna stood up as you let go of her hand, glaring heavily at your father. "I'm going to ask you again, leave our home and never return or I'll call the cops." She spat out slowly, her voice full of venom. 

"You know what, Miss America, we'll do exactly that. Who would even want that as a child?" He laughed as if it was a joke as he held his wife's sobbing hand. "You're not my child, Y/n. Nobody would even want a reta-"

"Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence." Jenna interrupted the man's words, fury in her eyes as she rounded the table. "You should be ashamed of yourselves, you two are a joke. Get out of our house right now." 

Your father scoffed as he helped pull up his wife from her chair, tightening his hand in hers. 

You weren't looking at them as you kept shaking your head, your eyes shut tightly as you mumbled incoherent words to yourself. The tightening in your throat becoming unbearable.

You heard your father and Jenna argue lowly but you couldn't hear anything they said as your fathers previous words plagued your thoughts loudly.

A wave of unshed tears were piling up behind your shut eyes as you slid off the wooden chair to sit down against the wall, shaking uncontrollably as you shook your head violently. 

Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an unloveable creature.

Behind closed eyes you could notice the room darken, with a shaky gasp you opened your eyes, a flood of tears escaping immediately.

Through the thick tears you could see Jenna crouched down a few feet in front of you, the room itself was darkened as the main light was switched off. The only light remaining in the room was the corner lamp.

"Y/n, can I hold you?" Jenna's disoriented voice asked you, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

Your fathers cruel words voiced themselves in your mind at your body's rejection of speaking. A sob racked through your body as you desperately nodded your head. Instantaneously the moment you nodded your head Jenna moved to wrap her arms around you, allowing you to lean all your weight into her.

Silent sobs erupted from your body as you clung to Jenna for dear life, hiding your face in the crook of her neck as your arms were wrapped around her tightly. 

"It's okay, it's just you and me, nobody else." She cooed into your ear as she gently rocked you back and forth. You could feel one of her hands rubbing affectionately against your back as she shushed you.

You don't know how long you stayed like that for; In Jenna's protective hold as she rocked you back and forth as you sobbed. 

Eventually as your breathing calmed down and your sobs dying down, Jenna slowed down her rocking but she kept rubbing at your back with her soft palm. 

"You feel a bit better?" She whispered into the dark room, not wanting to startle you with a loud voice. 

You nodded your head mutely as you sniffled, your face still hidden in the crook of her neck.

"You know what they said wasn't true, right?" Jenna softly asked as her hand soothed you. You didn't move as you struggled to swallow, knowing if you nodded your head you would be lying. 

Weakly, you shrugged your shoulders at her words, your fathers words still plagued your mind.

"What they said was absolute nonsense, Y/n, you're none of the things they called you." She reassured you, her voice so soft that if someone was in the kitchen they wouldn't have heard her. "I promise you I'll never let anyone say anything like that to you again, because what they said was lies."

You nodded your head as Jenna rocked you carefully, your breathing calming down. 

"I love you, Y/n, never forget that. I love everything about you, everything." Jenna whispered again as she pressed a feather light kiss to the top of your head. "I wouldn't want you any other way, you're perfect just the way you are, and I love you so much." 

Once again you attempted to speak but nothing except a strangled gasp of air came out, you shut your eyes back immediately as embarrassment coursed through your veins.

"Hey, hey, take your time, you don't have to force yourself to talk, okay? Going non-verbal is perfectly okay." Jenna cooed instantly as she rubbed at your back with a stronger force, you relished in the feeling as you nodded your head.

"Do you want me to reheat your dinner so we can watch the second Amazing Spider-Man movie while we eat it?" Jenna offered you in a gentle voice, she had slowed down on the rocking as you calmed down. 

Mutely, you nodded your head with more eagerness than before. Jenna smiled in relief as she nodded her own head. 

"Okay, I'll go reheat it and you can put the movie on for us. How does that sound?" She said, you pulled away from her as you smiled weakly, nodding your head. Jenna's own smile grew as she nodded her head along with you.

You were still weren’t sure whether your fathers words were true or not, but one thing you were positive of was that Jenna was the best girlfriend.

Jenna will always be your rock as she will always be the love of your life.

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Six: Lover's Games

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: You feel a need to follow up with Ernest Lawrence, much to Robert's dismay, and also uncover buried information that makes you turn rather rebellious.

Word Count: ~7,592

Warnings: Martial angst, infidelity, age gap, unwanted advances, slight physical violence, period stereotypical gender roles, clothed sex, some orgasm denial and sexual humiliation

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy. It is essentially very much a dramatization and AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer, Josh Hartnett as Ernest Lawrence, Jack Quaid as Richard Feynman, etc. from the film only while other characters are my own entirely made up ones!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @uniquetacofun, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86, @lacontroller1991, @kishie8, @anime-lover-forever-1127

If you'd like to be added to the list, let me know please.

June 1943

You waited a couple of weeks after the party to move past the point of just taking actual action only in consideration in the sense of springing a scheme by meeting up with Lawrence, keeping Robert under the radar all the while and he himself was certainly distant, (distracted by work of course) but also deliberately choosing to give you space. It was fine, but it made you uneasy of how much he was extracting his emotions and you were starting to feel as if you were on a carpet of thin eggshells every moment you and him were alone together, which was usually only at night sleeping in the same bed.

Weekday dinners were a polite affair as well and you mostly ate for yourself, him eating a portion of his plate before he went to shut himself in his designated office room and came to bed hours into the wee morning. He was gone longer now during the day and one early evening, you found yourself cleaning the house alone with no company or pressing responsibilities to attend to, and you went into his office, rearranging his paperwork and dusting the bookshelves when you decided to take a peek into his desk, knowing he kept many personal writings there. Perhaps a poem or musing that could give an indication of what was happening inside his brain and why you were hitting a cold patch in the marriage.

After sifting through many documents, discarded calculations, and correspondence letters, you finally found his dearest belongings buried in the bottom drawer. You knew several of these, for they were cards - birthday, anniversary, well-wishers from the wedding - and some of your own (love poems, really) that you had exchanged with him and even simple notes of wanting to meet for dinner, a party, vacation at his Perro Caliente ranch, anything that merited invitation. You grew teary at a few, oddly nostalgic even though it was only a couple of years ago. But this project had somehow changed everything out of alignment.

A thin stack of folded papers wedged in-between a Valentine's Day card from you last year and inside an envelope that had a wax heart the color of dried blood stamped on it caught your attention and you carefully peeled the corners back to extract the papers, which looked to be three separate pieces creased into halves. You took the one on top and unfolded it to reveal a letter. It had no formal or informal greeting and you blinked, reading the words in your husband's scrawling cursive handwriting. The first few lines seemed more like a diary entry than anything else until you read further...

Well, I am wearier lately than anyone could possibly guess because I have grown adept at adopting a mask of confidence and optimism. But it is a foolish man's desire to remain unchanged and hopeful in his situations that require more than words to express... I know you understand the moody tides well, my love, and I often wonder if you are feeling the bluing void edging on again as you often do, verging on the whole of complete consumption. Though it would be more appropriate to call it black as death itself; blue has been wrongly shamed in this case, although you could drown in my eyes.

Safe to say, I very much miss your presence and touch, the way you find comfort in me as if we are beyond mortal man and woman. Naturally, there are other parts of me that yearn for you as well, but I'm sure you could pinpoint exactly what. It wouldn't be proper to state it here, although I will never be sending this to you Jean. I sincerely hope you never read this because if you do, that means the war is ongoing and I have not evolved past this spout of melancholy. It is hard to determine the future when oneself is so pegged on the past and present... I feel as though I am stuck between the slides. How do I let myself be with you and yet here all at once? You feel light years away from me, though it is only a mere thousand miles, isn't it? I feel closer to the dying stars than compared to my active obligations here on Earth.

"Don't be an idiot, Robert, and alienate the few people who most understand you because one day you might need them." I can hear you say it now and I'm afraid I did exactly that to you but for reasons more monumental than myself. I thank you for being understanding over the phone, but I must remain in this slide while you are busy in your own microcosm of the world and it is easier to miss you, but I should place a bet against myself to see exactly how long this separation lasts. If you'll have me, I look forward to loving you in two or three year's time. I hope by then I do not fall out of the concept of love entirely and with an expiration date instead because that would be a tremendous dissatisfaction if you found another bull who could never match my (nor your) intellect. He would never deserve such a naughty angel as yourself and I myself won't let you linger past my mind too much longer, I promise.

Forever yours (or not, though I hope the prior),

Robert

He had added a postscript, written in original Sanskrit from The Bhagavad Gita and you squinted, seeing familiarity. You jumped up and went to the bookshelves, seeking out his copy and thumbing through the pages, finding the scripture that matched his handwriting and you recognized the passage as he had shown and translated it to you once.

And now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.

Why the fuck would he add that in as a PS in a pining love letter to his ex-girlfriend?

You put the book back and went to sit down on the floor beside his desk with the letter and other ones, which you dreaded opening in case they were more in the tone of lovesickness about Jean. You felt stunned and yet at the same time, unsurprised as if this was to be expected and maybe it was. It further proved that Robert hadn't completely emotionally filed Jean away as you'd thought and was planning on loving her again someday... Or he had just been really, really drunk when he composed this, but you highly doubted it.

Hands shaking, you set that letter aside gingerly as if it contained a deadly chemical and picked up a second folded piece of paper. When you opened it, you audibly gasped.

My Kitty,

I do hope you are well and pursuing a better life for yourself in the useful field of biology. Forgive me, I must be ridden with a fever, but wouldn't it be fortuitous if we perchance crossed paths in San Francisco one summer day? My flamboyant impossible imagination has flooded me again, so I'll indulge here: I'd see you out shopping and hopefully you would be with only female company (I take it your husband would be working, unless you have divorced) and we could strike up a conversation that led us to my Cadillac parked in the shadows of the shade, and I'd let you take refuge from the heat as my passenger and then I'd take your beautiful hand...

He had deeply scratched out the rest, but you could definitely make out a few lines of erotic poetry. In reaction, you bit your bottom lip so hard you nearly drew blood, and then reached for the last one, which was not a letter in the traditional sense, but more of a hastily scribbled note on an index card.

I need to see you soon. From one 'R' to another, you always have me at my truest regards.

You angrily swore aloud and started crumple this note, but paused. If you confronted him about it, this could blow up for both of you and you couldn't have that right now in the midst of life here for the project. No one was or could get divorced, that was not an option. No, you had to keep this secret and try to get back at him more stealthily. Robert clearly loved other women too much, that was it, and this was tangible of that. Enough was enough and it spurred on you to see the fellow you'd been avoiding since the party.

The next day, you went to Technical Area 1 and walked towards one of lab buildings, immediately noticed by the soldiers on guard and they came over, shaking their heads at you and your security clearance button, lower than permitted in such a site. You'd had to sweet talk your way just past the fencing to get to this point, but these particular hardened men didn't look swayable.

"I need to speak with my husband, it's urgent. Please," you begged dramatically, wringing your hands, and the men glanced at one another.

"He's preoccupied with his colleagues now, but we'll be sure to let him know about whatever it is, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

You pursed your lips, realizing they weren't going to let you just waltz into the building without an extremely good excuse, which you couldn't say.

"Fine. Good day, sirs." You walked far away from them and they went back to their business as you glanced around inconspicuously for an alternative entrance, going to another side. You found an unoccupied back door and hurried towards it, heart picking up pace.

"What are you doing?" a male voice called shrewdly from nearby behind.

"Shit," you muttered, whipping around to see a very suspicious Officer Nichols standing several feet away. Thankfully though, he was solitary.

"I'll have to report this, you know," he warned as you backed towards the shut door, forcing a big smile.

"Or what? You'll shoot me for finding my own husband?"

"Depends on the context. Dr. Oppenheimer is a very busy man and I'm sure he has much better to do with his limited time than to entertain his diligent token housewife."

You flushed angrily, feeling for the doorknob and of course it was locked.

"I swear to God I'm not doing anything else but speaking to him. I hardly know squat about quantum mechanics and the nature of his work," you lied, trying to appear absolutely innocent.

"Then what is so important you need to interrupt proceedings?" Officer Nichols asked sharply, coming closer.

"It's a highly urgent personal matter."

"I see." He paused, darting his eyes up and down the length of your body for a second before he spoke curiously.

"You haven't physically left The Hill since your arrival, is that correct?"

"Yes...?" you replied, unsure of where he was going with this.

Nichols stared at you for a moment through his glasses glinting in the midday sun and you looked back, locked in a strange thirty second unnerving silence of equilibrium. Finally he moved, stepping forward and nodding.

"I'll personally make sure that you never do."

"But no, I... I was planning on going shopping for supplies with some of the ladies this weekend in Santa Fe?"

He was silent and you were surprised when he took out a ringlet of keys, going to unlock the door.

"We all must make sacrifices, Mrs. Oppenheimer, and I'm sure your husband would agree. This is your reward for the loss of such a privilege, so go now before I change my mind and report you to General Groves."

You quickly darted inside without a backward glance, heart thudding in aftermath of the interaction. Did he really mean that? Would he get in trouble if someone found out? Or more importantly, would you get in a tight spot for sneaking around?

You strode through the maze of hallways past lab rooms, offices, and the like until you heard dull voices up ahead and saw Robert's back, face to the chalkboard, through a half-cracked door. The scientists turned to stare when they heard your heels come to a halt in the doorway, looking away from their paperwork and the blackboard. The awkward silence was deafening; a pin could drop at any moment and a man coughed, just to relieve the stagnant air. The lone female physicist of the group, Dr. Lilli Hornig, gave you a curious look with a quick polite smile as she scribbled something on a piece of paper. Robert froze with a cigarette in one hand and a piece of whittled chalk in the other, his blues boring into your face out of sheer shock.

"Y/N, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"No. I merely need to borrow that man right there for a moment of time. It's a personal matter," you announced crisply, pointing straight at Ernest Lawrence, whose expression morphed from surprise and to utter bemusement.

"Excuse me, then," he muttered and stood up, shuffling papers self consciously before making his way to you, moving down the hallway. You randomly led him to an empty storage room and opened the door, lightly pushing him inside.

"What are you doing?" he asked empathically as you faced him in the middle of the room, steadying yourself as you looked up at him, unaccustomed to being so close to a man considerably taller and bulkier than Robert's physicalie.

"Remember a couple weeks ago in May at last month's party?" you asked briskly and his brow furrowed in realization.

"Admittedly, not as much as I should. Oppie jokingly mentioned the next day afterwards about needing to restrict the amount liquor we're consuming at the house when you're hosting because we're not frat boys," he replied with an honest shrug.

"Do you recall that kiss you gave me out of the blue?"

His face flexed, eyebrows shooting up as his mouth twitched in guilty humor and you narrowed your eyes.

"Yes, perhaps a bit of it. In my defense though, I wasn't quite all there and there was talk going around, silly talk. I was dared into doing it, actually."

Now your own eyebrows mimicked his at this confession and you stepped closer, toe-to-toe with his shoes.

"Who dared you?"

"Promise to keep it to yourself?"

"Sure."

"Richard was the instigator and then the rest of the guys coaxed him on. Absolute ridiculousness we never would have done otherwise, I swear to you it's the high altitude of this place having an effect on our immature raucous behavior combined with alcohol."

"Feynman? The rascal, I could've guessed," you rolled your eyes disapprovingly and he sighed, shifting slightly on his feet.

"I really do apologize for the regrettable behavior, I sincerely promise it won't happen again," he told you seriously and you cocked your head slightly, giving him a once-over.

"Do you find me attractive?"

Lawrence immediately grew reserved and reluctant, making a grimace.

"Oh, I... I, oh no, I don't think it would be permissible to answer that."

"Go ahead. I dare you."

He swallowed nervously and came close with intimidation, making you stagger back all the way to the wall behind you, where he placed a hand up on it by your head, leaning in intimately and his warm breath tickled your cheeks.

"Yes, I suppose. But I'm happily married and certainly not looking for trouble or to wreck your own marriage. You must think I'm a very lousy friend," he admitted quietly.

"I think you underestimate me, Doctor," you whispered, nearly a purr, as you moved close and brushed his cheek with your fingers. He tried to speak, but you shushed him and gently removed his glasses, letting them dangle in your grip as you tilted into him, pressing your other hand firmly to his broad chest, squeezing the fabric of his vest.

Footsteps suddenly sounded from the hall outside, so you made it fast, giving Ernest a fast peck on the lips, just in time as then the door briskly yanked open and Robert poked his head in dubiously. You leaned back, still holding the glasses and Lawrence fumbled for them, accidentally interlocking fingers as your husband stared in confused disbelief.

"Y/N? What is the meaning of all this? We have work to do, why are you taking up his time?"

"Oppie, it's fine, we were just..." Ernest paused, readjusting rims of the glasses back on his face and he turned to you, a bit breathless.

"What were we talking about exactly?"

"All your great achievements, including the Nobel Prize, in contributing to the advancement of science, most notably your famous cyclotron and I was inquiring about the exact mechanics of how such a thing works. Something along the lines of high energy particles and acceleration...?"

"Right, because you were going to write to your father, who is curious about it," he caught on, proliferating this cock-and-bull conversation.

"And why do you need to interrupt our work about that? Aren't you supposed to elsewhere?" Robert asked, not hiding annoyance in plain sight. You could feel Ernest staring, gaze locked on you and your stomach butterflied, but you gave a brave face.

"You mean my womanly duties at home?" you snapped back.

"Yes, or however you may call it. Now, we need our physicist back if you'll pardon me." He beckoned Lawrence urgently and the man reluctantly pulled himself away from you, clearly ashamed and flustered. Once he was out of the room, Robert stepped inside and shut the door closed with snap. His face was taunt and irritated, fingers habitually fiddling for the ghost of a cigarette.

"What are you playing at here?" he demanded, already hurt without any explanation.

"Just a follow up to our last meeting," you said causally enough to anger him. He crossed to meet you in two strides, catching your wrist and lifting up your arm, interlacing his fingers very tightly with yours as he spoke lowly, intensively.

"What is the matter, am I not giving you enough? Do I not provide enough for you? You feel an urge to court my best man and colleague all of a sudden because you are bored of your humdrum domesticity? Is that what you love about Los Alamos, the fine selection of like-minded substitutes once you tire of me? Am I not enough?" His voice raised before he caught himself, releasing a shaky breath. He was genuinely upset and you felt rotten, but only for a second. It's not like he was clean in this either.

"Don't be ridiculous. I swear, you always assume the worst of me," you scoffed in response.

"Well, I certainly know a cheat when I see one," he said bitterly, twisting his fingers out of yours and dropping his arm.

"Yes, you would know indeed. But Jesus, Robert, he's only a friend, your friend I might add, and it was only a bit of fun, nothing serious. You said it yourself, it's good for him to loosen up. What else are parties for?"

"Right. Oh, yes, I'm sure that's exactly it," he replied sarcastically.

"He started it, you know, after Richard dared him to kiss me apparently at the party."

"Then I'll be speaking to both of them. But you need to stop it, quit acting so childish and inappropriate over this. You're smarter than this shtick and there is too much at stake to be partaking in silly juvenile romantic games."

"You do realize I'm at least fifteen years younger than you, right? You can't expect me to be, well, whatever it is called to be at your age. Old, is it?" you mocked and normally that would've sounded very rude in any other situation, but he knew your sharp side all too well to take it too seriously, especially when delivered with a teasing smile.

"You couldn't think of a worse slander than 'old'?" he scoffed, unimpressed, and you snorted, tapping the knot of his tie affectionately.

"The point is, I am indeed younger than you."

"So? I have no issue with that and you have proved yourself very capable of co-existence so far, I think you are quite mature for your age actually, at least until now... But I don't think biological age matters in love."

"I was just over eighteen when you began courting me and you used to flirt with your few female physics students that were no older," you reminded him and he diverted his gaze, tapping his foot anxiously and he distractedly flicked out a cigarette from his pocket pack, lighting it in a second and puffing in response. You stepped back from the plume of smoke, glancing towards the window and crossing your arms. He exhaled loudly and jerked his hand to point the cigarette at you and then spoke with ultimatum.

"I don't want to see you enter this laboratory with the intention of unnecessary interruption ever again. I will tell the officers outside to stop and restrain you if you do. Hell, I'll take these matters to the General if I have to, you hear me on that?"

"I certainly do as a matter of fact and I also know for a fact that you'd be wasting his time. Petty marriage squabbles isn't a high priority or forte for a high-ranking military man like him. But as for you, well, now you know what it feels like to be jeopardized over another human being," you countered.

"My ties are very different and I would never think to do it so publicly! I am discreet about such internal, highly private business," he exclaimed, getting frustrated with this discussion and this made you laugh humorlessly.

"Bullshit and you know that. I saw you a week before our wedding walking hand in hand with Jean down Shasta Road and what about that time afterwards when our friends saw you dancing with-"

He quickly talked louder, running over your words heatedly.

"No, no, no. You are just feeding into this ridiculousness and fabricating a relationship that isn't there!"

"Maybe so, but I thought it would be a good lesson, or test, for you and if this is any indicator, you've been bothered. I take heart in that you must love me so that it has unnerved you to see me with another man."

"There was never any doubt that I love you. Christ, if that's what this is all about..." He sighed, rubbing his creased forehead briefly before walking backwards to the door, opening it up and you could hear the dull chatter of voices from the other room.

"Well?" you asked when he didn't do anything, just standing with hands on his hips.

"I want you to do whatever it is that pleasures you, just as long as it doesn't happen to be luring my top physicist and close friend in a back room during the middle of a workday. Have some standard decency for God's sake," he spat, the words stinging, and you crystalized, uncrossing your arms and shaking your head at the hypocrisy.

"I never noticed it until we came here, but Ruth sure has your attention, doesn't she?"

"Pardon?" He blinked.

"You heard me."

"Ruthie has nothing to do with this and how dare you drag her name through your muddled mood today."

"Ruthie?" You rolled your eyes at clear affection underlying his tone.

"Listen to yourself Robert, you have feelings for her, you've always been close."

"She's a very dear friend, one of the few people I can truly confide in and share my emotions with, nothing more," he insisted.

"Am I part of that select number of confidants?"

"Of, of course. Has our entire marriage been for naught? I cannot believe your attitude over this, it's deplorable."

"It must be very nice to be you, Robert. No one here in Los Alamos casts open judgement upon you," you commented bitterly and he cringed, closing his eyes for a brief moment before staring back at you.

"Not yet, anyway," he answered with a tone of cryptic ominousness and you only frowned, shoving past him to exit the building.

A full twenty four hours passed without further incident until you haphazardly ran into Feynman on the street, just the man you were looking for.

"Richard?"

"Yeah?" He stopped and gave you a familiar cocky smile which dropped at the narrowed eyes and serious expression you were giving him.

"Oh, is this about the party? I didn't think he'd even do it, I apologize for our frivolousness that night. Clearly very unacceptable." He cleared his throat awkwardly and you leaned close, speaking in a low murmur.

"Do me a favor?"

"Uh, sure...?"

"I have an assignment for you: Find me a single man - preferably scientist - in this town, anyone remotely attractive will do, but no close friends or direct colleagues of Robert's, it has to be at least second or third tier from his inner circle and single - I'm not crossing into some other woman's territory - and arrange me a date with him in secret. Think of it as an experimental equation: One attempted devoted wife plus one all-but-labeled womanizer husband plus unsuspecting stag. It's time to give someone a taste of his own sweet and sour medicine."

"Oh, you feel like causing a scandal, do you? It won't take a mathematician to see what it'll will add up to." He chuckled in disbelief but then dropped his voice, casting wary glances around at passing residents, or civilians, as everyone who was non-military were officially called.

"Are you quite sure about this?"

"If I let my conscience speak, then no. But if I let every other fiber of my being, then yes. Will you do it?"

"I... I can't, no, this is beneath us," he protested, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.

"It's one event at a casual party, it's quite another outside... Well, you know. Real tampering with people's lives has consequences and I'm not sure I'm the man for this job, I think if maybe, it-"

"I'll pay you," you interrupted quickly and he quirked an eyebrow and leaned closer.

"How much?" he whispered curiously.

"Twenty?"

"Make it 100 and you've got yourself a deal. I'll do it and you can pay me later at your convenience. Now excuse me, but I have some business elsewhere."

He hurried off and there was no further word until one early morning you came into the kitchen as Robert was dressing his toast and brewing coffee, and you were surprised to see a bouquet of long stemmed red roses on the table. Naturally, you looked to him as his habit of flower gifting was infamous, but he was staring just as confounded as you were. He seemed positively rattled, in fact.

"Did you...?" he asked and you echoed that same question.

"Did you?"

"No, I haven't been flower picking as of late," he replied dryly with a taut closed smile and then it dawned on you. Could it be from the mystery date you'd sent Feynman to set up?

"I'll put them in the living room, shall I? They'll get the strong afternoon light that will illuminate their velvety rouge petals," you expressed and he nodded emotionlessly, turning back to the toast and grabbing the pot of coffee.

Once you were alone in the lounge, you carefully inspected the flowers; they were beautiful and fairly fresh, only one or two were curling at the tips from the heat and as you held it up to admire, there was a small square piece of paper taped on the bottom of the skinny glass vase: It was a thin note, reading of a scrambled code of some sorts. You smirked, knowing it had to be Feynman who did this; he was always writing letters in code to his ailing sweetheart stuck in Albuquerque.

"Y/N, have you seen my badge? It's gone missing!" Robert called anxiously from the kitchen and you quickly tore the note off the bottom and tucked it into your pajamas.

"You probably left it on the dresser," you called back to him absentmindedly.

Once he left for the day, you sat down and worked to crack the code, which wasn't terribly hard considering it was predictable; boiling down to an address, date and time. You'd hoped for a name of the mystery gentleman, but didn't seem to get one.

That evening, you dressed in one of your finest silk dresses, red in color as the roses, and made your way to the bachelor's dormitory on the other side of town. You technically weren't allowed to be transversing around here, especially at this hour, and you cringed at a couple of catcalling whistles from young drunken men loitering outside. You ignored them, hurrying up the stairs to the mystery man's dorm and knocked once. The door opened, almost cautiously, and a decent looking young man stood there, his short brunette hair combed back and he wore a well pressed suit but with a blue tie slightly out of alignment.

"Good evening, Ma'am," he greeted in a pleasant voice and you automatically blushed, staring into his eyes which were a very watered-down literation of Robert's own blues; if his were the ocean, this man's were a lake on a grey skied afternoon and it made you feel a tad sad about doing this. Of course no man's eyes could ever quite compare.

"Hello...?" you trailed off, needing a name to this blind date of yours.

"My name is Anthony, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

"Pleasure to meet you and please, that makes me sound old and tethered. Just call me Y/N."

He nodded, stepping aside and you went inside, closing the door behind you as you surveyed the somewhat neat living quarters consisting of basic furniture and scattered paperwork and magazines.

"I apologize if this is rather awkward, but I take it Richard gave you the details?"

"More or less," Anthony answered and the way he was ogling at you wasn't so much like piece of meat, but out of respect and disbelief that he had actually had a date with the wife of the top dog scientific director of Los Alamos.

"Would you care for a drink? I just have, uh, scotch if that's alright. Probably different from what you're used to," he murmured the last part and you assured him quickly it was alright.

"Yes I would, thank you."

He handed a half filled glass to you gently and you noticed his hands were trembling slightly.

"You don't have to be nervous, I'm really not all that remarkable. I may have my husband's name, but I'm certainly not him, you know. We all bask in the long reaching shade of Oppie, don't we?"

"Right, of course," he chuckled, offering you a seat on the sofa and taking a sip of his own, regarding you impressively.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" you asked tenderly and he shrugged, still rather timid.

"I was dating a girl back in college but we broke off right before I signed onto the project."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty four," he answered.

"Good, not younger than me; I suppose we are perhaps compatible then in that respect. You don't need to hear my life story, but I was a year in studying medicine at Stanford until this and now I suppose I'm just another housewife at the moment." You sighed, taking a small sip and nodding at him pleasantly.

"So what do you do here, generally? I take it you aren't one of the boys in Oppie's so-called cult?"

"No, I'm an engineer actually. I work in one of the labs, hands on, none of that theoretical bunch."

You nodded approvingly and there was a lapse of silence until he gestured with his glass, sloshing the liquid slightly.

"So I take it you're quite unhappy with... with Dr. Oppenheimer if you wanted to meet with another man?" he asked cautiously, disguising excitement.

"No questions, if you don't mind. I'm not here to talk about him," you replied seriously and he nodded fervently, setting the drink down on the side table.

"Yes, right. I apologize. I guess that doesn't leave much formalities then." He paused, swiping his tongue across his lips.

"I'd like to kiss you if that's not rushing too much," he proposed politely, but with a tone of urgency.

"Go right ahead." You braced as he leaned in, inches from your lips and you shared air for a second before he plunged forward, groping your mouth fast and lightly. But it felt all so wrong. You lightly pulled back, his hands not even holding your face like Robert always did so there wasn't much real intimacy, and glanced to the floor self consciously.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this," you murmured guiltily. Maybe it wasn't even your conscience; maybe he just wasn't the right guy.

"But I thought you wanted it...?" Anthony's brows furrowed in hurt confusion and offense, so you quickly backpedaled.

"Not here, we can't do anything here. How about... Do you want to come over to my home?" you blurted out abruptly and he swallowed.

"But is-isn't your husband home?"

"That's the point."

Gathering courage for the both of you, Anthony then stood and took your hand to walk you to the door, leading you out down to the street level and the two of you walked all the way to Bathtub Row together. You could tell he was in awe of these homes that were larger and much better constructed.

"So this is how the other side lives." Anthony gave a low whistle and you laughed, bumping his side gently.

"Don't worry. We use the same water, electricity, and plumbing as you do, it's just a little more glamorous and I promise you anyone living in Los Alamos to work on the project is not substandard or lower class, even if the military may be rather degrading at times. It's all just a socially constructed hierarchy."

He squeezed your waist affectionately and you led him to the house, telling him to wait by the shrubs as you walked around to peer into the windows to see if Robert was still up, which you'd be surprised if he wasn't, and indeed he was: reclining in an armchair by the fireplace, reading and puffing on his pipe.

You signaled to Anthony to come closer and he crossed the yard to stand by the side of the house, appearing wary. He mouthed 'do you see him?' and you nodded, turning your back to the window and beckoned to him to move close. He carefully did so until he was a few inches from your face and you swallowed at the intimacy, the daring nerve to kiss a man right in front of the windowpanes where your husband sat in the living room.

"Kiss me, but passionately this time, no holding back. Just pretend it's only the two of us, okay?" you whispered and he breathed in, parting lips.

"Is this a dream?" he whispered and you giggled lightly, straddling his body and cupping the back of his neck, hairs bristling your fingers.

"Only if you want it to be, but no telling anyone when you wake up, understand?"

"No one would believe me... I feel as though I'm about to commit a great sin against the Oppenheimer unity, I can't believe I'm going to do this," he admitted with a dark chuckle.

"I can," you breathed and before you knew it, his lips connected to yours and the kiss was actually amazingly passionate indeed for two people who just personally met tonight. You breathed in his musky scent and intertwined tongues, smooshing noses and you felt him push you up against the window, arms embracing you whole and you secretly hoped it would eventually catch Robert's attention. Your intention was just one full kiss, but now this man had you, he seemed reluctant to let go as you began to lean back from his mouth, head lightly conking against the window. Anthony groped your breasts hungrily and you felt his hard-on pressing against your thigh as your bodies rubbed, the kissing becoming sloppier and for a moment, you completely forgot what you'd done this for. A faint yell came from somewhere and Anthony grew more attached, tightening his grasp on your frame, kissing harder and you started to feel a slight wetness in your panties.

"Stop! Get off of her! Please, that's my wife!" Robert's voice called in audible distress and you realized this must look a lot worse than it was, and you had to admit this man was getting a bit rougher as his more primal desire came to fruition and you grunted, turning your head and trying to wriggle out from underneath his locking embrace.

"That's enough, enough," you murmured anxiously, but he wasn't stopping.

"You said this could be my dream, can't ya let me finish first?" Anthony growled in your ear, but you were done, having successfully alarmed your husband. This wasn't meant to go further and quite frankly, you were unnerved how quickly it had escalated. He wasn't quite the shy gentleman scientist anymore once he was aroused, but you supposed these types of adventures did bring out the animalistic behavior in most after all.

Simple souls, Robert had said once of human beings.

Unfortunately, he was now witness to such a 'simple man' about to take you right on the windows of his stone and log cabin style house.

"STOP THAT NOW!" Robert yelled off to the right and you felt Anthony being forcefully tugged away, his arm flailing out and trying to grasp, catching your hair and you winced as he accidentally yanked painfully.

You were suddenly released and you gasped, sidestepping and watching in shock as Robert tried to jump on the man, his belt removed from his waist and gripped tightly in his hands as he wrestled it aggressively around Anthony's neck, constricting with enough force to make him gag and choke.

"Robert, no!" you shouted, rushing forward and attempting to pull him away, but it was as if he were deaf to the wind.

"I demand you to LEAVE my property at once and to NEVER see my wife, or this won't end on civilized terms," he threatened loudly and you'd never seen such a fire in his piercing eyes before. It intrigued and frightened you, considering he was not a brute in any sense. Anthony pleaded through his choking, whimpering pathetically, until Robert finally backed off, snapping the belt and huffing.

The other man stumbled up to his feet and held up his hands in surrender as Robert squinted in the dark, trying to fully identify him.

"I'm terribly apologetic Dr. Oppenheimer, sir, I won't bother you or the Mrs. anymore, I'll be right on my way!"

Anthony ran like a bat out of hell from the property and once it was silent, Robert turned to you with heavy breaths, the belt hanging limply at his side. You took one look and then rushed inside in the house, kicking off your heels in the hallway and dashing into the bedroom, slamming the door, heart pounding a sprint.

Moments later, you heard his clodding footsteps and anxious voice calling out desperately, the door bursting open.

"Jesus Christ, are you alright?" he gasped as you shrunk away from him, still feeling Anthony's hands all over you and the whole guilt imploded, resulting in a sudden overflow of tears.

"Fuck, Robert! It's all my fault, I told Richard Feynman to set us up and I told Anthony to come here as a show to make you jealous and it advanced, I promise he meant no harm, we just wanted-"

"You did this on purpose?" he interrupted, betrayal lighting his features and you wiped messily at the tears streaming down your own.

"Yes! I kissed him on purpose! I wanted to spite you, I'm sorry but I cannot handle this anymore! I wanted to hurt and infuriate you like you do to me with your blatant love of other women! I bribed Richard $100 for a date with a single scientist, I didn't know what I'd get, but I'm glad you saw us together, it is only fair when I have to read love letters to past girlfriends... or are they just current 'friends'?!"

His mouth gaped and the frown lines appeared, creasing his forehead in prudent anger.

"The audacity... I suppose I indeed underestimated you, my sweet Aphrodite," he said lowly, voice a low rumble and despite everything you actually felt a shiver of arousal in your core.

In two strides, he met you at the foot of the bed, grabbing your head in a vice and in a bizarrely dominant twist, pinned you down to the bed, trapping you underneath him and yet you saw the uncertainty flicker. He was pretending to be so dominant, but couldn't take the reins fully.

Oh, Oppie.

"Roll over," you ordered sharply and he did, collapsing onto his back as you unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down hastily, staring at his cock straining against his boxers. You placed your palm on it, teasing him and he moaned softly, shaking his head at the deviousness on your face.

"No, please. Please, let me out, please don't do this, please..."

Begging. He was actually begging. After he just had attacked a man outside and was reeling from your confession, he was here at an embarrassingly burgeoning erection.

"I'm so close that I don't need you inside me, but I think you need a bit more help, is that right?" you whispered condescendingly and he gulped, eyes wide dilated marbles.

"I'm sorry about all of it, I never meant t-to-" he sputtered off as you clapped a hand to his mouth and you straddled his body, legs quivering with anticipation.

His penis grew harder and a clear wet stain bled through the fabric, causing him to squirm underneath you and you smiled, bumping up and grinding against clothed erection. You yelped at the sudden rush of internal pleasure and his hands gripped your dress at the hips, gasping along with your heaves and whines, but he himself was yet to peak. He seemed mortified as you then sat back and placed firm hands down on his crotch, holding his bulge tightly. He groaned, mortified as you wouldn't let him go, and after stretching him out to his limits for too long, a single squeeze brought him to a full climax, absolutely soaking his boxers and he threw his head back on the pillow, reveling in the orgasm.

Panting, you climbed off him and he weakly sat up, holding out a hand with the other on his wet crotch in sheer humiliation. You left the bed, gathering your appearance and catching breath.

"No, don't... Don't leave," he requested desperately from his spot on the bed and you shook your head, tousling hair as you glanced over at him.

"Clean up your own mess, darling," you told him firmly, a metaphor as much as a literal one.

He sighed, swinging legs off the bed and hobbling off to the bathroom as you began to undress, slipping out of the dress and into a bedtime robe.

He came back in, clean but utterly naked, and his dick was still dripping a smidge at the tip.

"You very much ruined a good pair of my underwear," he complained and you merely shrugged, patting the bed as you crawled in and he joined, scooting under the sheets and pulling you close, resting his forehead at yours, speaking in a mutter.

"You just had to stoop low with that male 'catch' of yours, didn't you?"

"That's not very nice, darling. Anthony seemed like a nice man and he's an engineer, I'll have you know."

"He isn't a third of the man I am."

"No one is you, Robert. That's why I went to another man in the first place."

"I truly wanted to suffocate the life out of him, I would have maimed him quite seriously had I lacked control. I haven't thought of doing such a terrible action since my Cambridge episodes, my terrible fits of jealousy... I suppose I expressed protection over you," he mused grimly.

"It's the thought that counts," you commented darkly.

"I can be so impulsive and erratic... You and everyone knows quite well how I was going to poison my tutor; I had injected potassium cyanide in the body of that innocent apple and left it on his desk..."

You remembered it had been Jean who had offhandedly first mentioned this story to you and she had assured you it was only because he was going through a very difficult phase in his life and actually all he needed to feel fulfilled was to just "get laid" as she aptly put it. Funnily enough, 'getting laid' was the least of Robert's problems now.

He took your hand at the moment and grasped too hard, squeezing your fingers, leaning towards you anxiously and speaking urgently.

"Listen, and I mean this very much: Don't ever see another man, I don't think I can do this again without gravely spraining my heart."

"And your enormous ego," you added the obvious with a small smile and he returned it, also giving you a light kiss on the cheek and cuddling in close.

"I love you," he offered gently and you shot him a glance, unable to hide the blushing smirk.

"Touché."

[lovelytsunoda]

the christmas collection 2024!

also this year i will be attempting some small smut fics for smut-mas the way i did kinktober (i intended to do more than two lmao but only two ending up materializing) also knowing me, there are probably going to be fics not on this list that i end up writing as well (like 'still alive' or 'you've got me under your spell' from the previous holiday collection!)! stay tuned, i hope you guys enjoy it

sugar, spice and everything nice | liam lawson | slice of life, romance, humorous

whoever said assembling a gingerbread house was easy should probably be shot

sweet sounds of heaven | logan sargeant | smut, rivals to lovers

when a winter storm traps two rival bookstore employees inside together during a power outage, tempers flare high and lines get crossed.

love, actually | robert 'bob' floyd | romance, au!

following the storyline of the magnificent hugh grant in the film 'love, actually', shows robert floyd as the nervous and newly minted admiral of the pacific fleet, and follows his shy, gentle romance with his secretary, proving that love actually *is* all around

tbd | lando norris | established relationship, slice of life

lando spends his first christmas with his girlfriend's family, and she really wants to get him out of that ugly christmas sweater

lost at the christmas market | yuki tsunoda | smau, comedy

y/n loses her boyfriend at the christmas market. chaos ensues.

jack frost nipping at your nose | charles leclerc | comedy, slice of life, romance, married life!

the coldest night of the year is not the night you want your husband to forget how to light the fireplace

who is this diva? | tbd | smau, comedy, black friday mayhem

the internet is set alight when a world-renowned race car driver is spotted fighting a social media microinfluencer for a lego set. is this a lawsuit waitng to happen or a recipe for romance? (this one is likely to be alex albon but im not sure yet!)

[welcome-to-roomba-fazbender]

HAPPY 5TH ANNIVERSERY TO

CHARLIE THE CURSED PHONE GUY

MAY HE STAY WITH US FOR ANOTHER FIVE AND BEYOND!

and now a special message from the man himself.

"Well, Well, Well... look how far we've come huh? Genuinely, honest... And Truly."

"Five years ago I was made and cursed the world of tumblr with my presence, time sure does fly! I've lost a few friends, but gained plenty more in return!"

"I wouldn't even be here today without them, now granted I'm not gonna name EVERYONE! But I am gonna name a select few and tell you how they've impacted me... AHEM..."

"First and foremost the man the myth and the legend the one who is the reason behind everything, the man where if he didn't exist I wouldn't exist!"

"Henr- ... we all know I don't mean him we're talking about real people."

"If your name isn't listed, it isn't because the mod dosen't care but it's because he's a dumbass and these are the ones that came up at the top of his head when writing this post, totally not a forth wall break."

@directdogman

"The Creator of the DSAF/Dayshift At Freddy's Series Direct Doggo himself, sure okay I was a late edition to the fandom.

but it is fully thanks to DSAF 3 and him that I even exist, what can I say about doggo other then what has been said before one thousand times? He is a man of many skills and many talents."

"He is creative, smart and genuinely an inspiration to everyone in the community of both DSAF and Dialtown... no matter how much time has passed, I will personally continue to respect the man I owe everything to him. So thank you doggo genuinely for your support and your amazing games."

@cook-ie-chip

"One of my oldest friends in the community, I've known you since almost the start! we have alot of memories together, some laughs, some cries! you also created my blue prints

(though in lore they were written by henry and will) let's look past that! You remind me of how things used to be a long time ago, and I'm glad to still know you even now."

"and with any hope I'll curse you for many years more."

@lazy-charlie / @chuck-the-fanboy

"I remember how we met, you found me and we both realized we had the same name, and so I decided to charge you extra for like a pizza party lmao."

"But ever since that day we have only grown closer and closer... to the point your apart of the roomba fazbender family [no you will get no discounts] ..."

"You've done so much for me over the years though, you helped create the Roomba's we have here today, you drew some of our lovely walrus friends!"

"AND ... ough... Okay Okay I'll be honest you made Chuck The Fanboy originally a joke just to tease me with, but over the years he's grown on me... DO NOT LET HIM HEAR ME SAY THIS, but he's like a lil bro... and if anything happened to him I'd be devastated."

@clownsuu / @not-robert

"... well well well if it isn't the shadow in black and the big buff zombie, what can I say about both of you?"

"Hmm... Clownsuu here teases me, has DRAWN ME MPREG, HAS DRAWN ME EMO, IS THE REASON WHY THE EVIL VERSION OF ME EXISTS!..."

"and yet life wouldn't be the same with out him, jack is... an anomaly someone I met because someone thought he was stealing me! HA no one can steal this perfect face~"

"Gotta say though, all jokes aside... life just wouldn't be the same without him, alot more boring you know? I must admit he is someone I will never forget, you've also drawn photos of a few of my walrus I still have hung up in my office, I appreciate you for absolutely everything you've done."

"And don't get me started on Robert that big buff baby, I've put him in just about every costume under the sun, and yet he still puts up with me and stays still no idea why. But it's because of him my restaurant has expanded so much, from a bowling alley, a karaoke bar and dumpsters full of meat."

"Don't tell Robert this he'd likely call me an idiot, but guy's one of my best friends genuinely thankfully he's immortal so I'll never worry about losing him but ... the thought still scares me."

"Never change Robert."

@weirdozjunkary

"You turned me into a furry... I got nothin else to say I just had to point that out."

"..."

"..."

"Okay, fine you did alot more then that, you introduced me to bedlam someone who can FINALLY truly be a sponge to my cursed and chaotic behavior, honestly I'd hope so considering he's the god of chaos."

"I only met him recently but I'd fuken fight his version of god for him ... seriously don't tempt me I will kick that old man's ass."

"I'm glad to have bedlam in my life and hope I know him for many years more."

@an-artist-place-for-extra-art

"you simp for the evil version of me I..."

"I have no words for you..."

"I just question... why?"

"though honestly? never change, I care for you just the way you are, your amazing."

"Alright, Alright enough of the mushy stuff and forth wall breaks it's messing with my circuits and servo's ahem..."

"The most important thing about this day is one..."

"I'm so fucking cool"

"two"

"I AM NEVER GOING ANYWHERE HATERS, FIVE MORE YEARS AND BEYOND OF ME!!!"

"and three... and most important lore wise"

"HAPPY 50TH ANNIVERSERY TO ROOMBA FUCKING FAZBENDERS!"

"50 YEARS THIS PLACE HAS BEEN OPEN WITHOUT ANY DEATHS JUST A FEW INJURIES AND I'LL TAKE THAT WITH STRIDE!"

"AS THE ULTIMATE FUCK YOU TO FREDBEAR'S AND FAZBENDER ENTERTAINMENT!"

"THE GUY WHO IS A LITERAL ELDRITCH HORROR AND EATS SHOES WITH HIS BOOTLEG RESTURANT LASTED LONGER THEN ALL OF YOU SUCK IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

"... thank you... genuinely out of pocket with full seriousness..."

"thank you everyone for sticking around none of this would be possible without you, and I HONEST AND TRUELY can't wait for another five amazing years."

Moderator Monnie: And happy anniversary to everyone from me to all of you!

Have a fantastic day! and thank ya'll for reading!

[froggychair05]

Hello, my friends!!! @jelo-boi and I have been cooking the past few days working on our MCSM Enchanted AU (AKA Minecraft: Enchanted Mode), a re-telling of the 2007 Disney movie Enchanted but with the funny blocks.

Putting a cut here because this is a bit long 🫶

Characters:

Jesse as Giselle

Lukas as Robert

Petra as Edward

F!Jesse (Jessica) as Nancy

Ivor as Nathaniel

Reuben as Pip

Romeo as Narissa (the disguise he uses is Vos)

Nell as Morgan

Olivia as Sam (the secretary)

Axel as Arty (the construction worker)

Isa as Robert’s boss

Milo as the other divorce lawyer

Jack as the guy singing in the park

Nurm as Clara (the old woman on the bus)

Cassie Rose as the bus driver

Ellegaard and Magnus as Phoebe and Ethan (the couple getting a divorce)

Summary:

Things start out in the fairytale land of Beaconlasia, where Jesse lives in a house in the woods until she’s saved from the Prismarine Colossus by Princess Petra and the two are to be married.

However, Petra’s stepfather King Romeo doesn’t want to give up the crown (he’s been trying to keep Petra from meeting a boy) and he disguises himself as an old man, tricking Jesse and pushing him down a well.

At this point, Jesse ends up in the middle of Manhattan. He wanders around the city, lost, until he quite literally falls into the arms of a divorce lawyer named Lukas and his younger sister Nell, and he goes to stay with them.

Meanwhile, Petra and Jesse’s pig friend Reuben venture to the real world to find her, and shortly after, Petra’s valet and Romeo’s servant, Ivor, goes through to try and stop her from finding him.

Lukas is engaged to a woman named Jessica, but shenanigans happen and he winds up falling in love with Jesse, and Jesse winds up falling in love with him as well. Ivor tries to poison Jesse a few times, and then eventually Petra finds him.

Except Jesse doesn’t want to go back because he loves Lukas and he likes being around Nell, but he agrees to return to Beaconlasia after going on a date with Petra.

They wind up going to a ball and Jesse dances with Lukas while Petra dances with Jessica, and then when it’s over, Petra and Jesse go to leave, but Romeo shows up disguised as the old man again and poisons Jesse with an apple. Petra finds out and tries to give him true love’s kiss, but it doesn’t work, so he has Lukas kiss him and he wakes up. Then Romeo turns into a dragon and captures Lukas, but Jesse saves him and Romeo falls off of the building and dies.

Jesse and Lukas have their happy ending while Jessica goes back to Beaconlasia with Petra and they get married, and Ivor writes a book and Reuben also writes a book and they all live happily ever after.

Important Details:

—> In the animated bits in Beaconlasia, they are Minecraft blocks.

—> Nell is Lukas’ younger sister, not his daughter. She’s still six, but with some of the mannerisms and attitude that Nell has.

—> Jesse cuts Lukas’ curtains to make his clothes—the suspenders are the patterned bits.

—> Instead of the running gag of Giselle’s wedding dress getting stuck in everything, it’s that Jesse’s suspenders keep getting caught on stuff.

—> Aiden is Lukas’ ex who left, causing him to have a sort of sour view on love (Aiden is also Malvina from Disenchanted. More on this later.)

—> Jesse and Jessica are long-lost siblings. Back when they were still babies, Jesse was more of a stubborn, adventurous type prone to wandering, while Jessica was a bit less stubborn and more reserved. Their mother was strolling them through Times Square on the same day maintenance work was also being done on the sewer, particularly the manhole that leads to Beaconlasia. When the stroller was just in place while their mother wasn't paying attention, Jesse crawled out while people were crossing the road. He got lost in the crowd, and eventually crawled all his way to the manhole and ended up stranded in Beaconlasia. Baby Jesse first wound up in the entrance to the wishing well inside the castle walls, but some parts of the walls had cracks that were big enough for him to crawl through. Eventually, he kept going on and kept roaming until he reached the forest, and there, the animals found him and took him in as their own. Ever since that day, Jessica grieved the loss of her brother, and as years went by, she wound up hiding those feelings inside her. Then, when she meets Jesse for the first time with Lukas at his apartment, she's initially jealous-angry at Lukas, but when she rides the taxi, she realizes how Jesse looks eerily similar to her, and she's like, “It can't be him, can it? It was so long ago. That's impossible.” After that, Jessica is less bothered by the notion of Lukas cheating on her and moreso by the notion that the person Lukas was with may be her long-lost twin. When she calls Lukas after receiving the flowers post-That’s How You Know, Jessica also asks for Jesse to come along with him to her workplace. Right after the scene where Jessica is awed by the flowers and thanks Lukas for the ball invitation in person, she calls for Jesse to have a talk with her. They have a heart-to-heart talk about how Jesse may have been separated from them since they were babies, and both confirm that he really is Jessica’s sister. Then they hug and they both cry and comfort each other as they realize they’re both family.

—> Dewey was one of Jesse’s friends back in Beaconlasia and he comes to the real world with Petra and Reuben, finds them while they’re at the park, and then stays with them when Reuben goes back to Beaconlasia

Relationships:

Green Suspenders Jesse and Lukas

They meet when Jesse falls off of a billboard and Lukas brings him back to his and Nell’s apartment to stay the night. After some initial misunderstandings with Lukas’ fiancée and coworkers, he begins to truly care about Jesse, and Jesse grows reluctant to return to his own world after realizing his feelings for Lukas.

Female Jesse and Petra

Jessica falls for Petra while they’re at the ball. Taken by surprise by Petra’s completely straightforward and earnest nature, she’s swept off her feet after Lukas falls for Jesse. The two return to Beaconlasia together and get married.

Ivor and Romeo

Ivor is entirely devoted to serving Romeo, but Romeo couldn’t care less about him. Once Ivor realizes this, he turns on him and helps Petra and Jesse defeat him.

Magnus and Ellegaard

A couple who were going to get divorced before Jesse stumbled into things and re-ignited their spark.

If you’ve never seen this movie, PLEASE check it (and the sequel) out! They’re both so good!!

EDIT!! Check the reblogs for Jelo’s half of the post :D

[lolipoptheclown]

*crashes into your ask box* VAMPIRE BOB?! /VPOS

TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL—

SORRY I HAVE A SPECIAL INTEREST IN VAMPIRES. HEHEHSG 💥💥💥💥💥

YESYESYES VAMPIRE BOB!!! (Sorry for not answering sooner I fell asleep+had to get ready for school LOL I'm currently writing this on the bus)

A few other characters get bit too! Some don't get turned, and just DIE, but yk

Garcia? BITTEN! Lila? BITTEN! Streber? BITTEN! Kevin? BITTEN! Hatzgang? CLOSE CALL! Jaune? NOT BITTEN, BUT A VERY CLOSE CALL! Patty? BITTEN! Skid + Pump? SEVERAL CLOSE CALLS!

So ummmmMm idk how to start this so here's a basic rundown of everything that happens differently! This is going to be VERY long, I apologize in advance.

PRE-EPISODE 1:

Yk how Garcia and Bob were in that one picture together? Well uh... that picture never got taken! Both because Bob wouldn't show up in it anyway+because Boys & Grills is only open at night now! Then Bob also bit Garcia at some point, but he didn't turn him into a vampire, he just kills+eats him. RIP Garcia, death #1

EPISODE 1: Bob was about to bite Lila, but was distracted by the spooky dance, but before he could get arrested he kinda had an "oh shit" moment when the police walked in, turned into a bat, and flew off. Jack+John were never able to put him in prison or figure out who it was.

For the rest of the episodes until episode 5, Boys & Grills stays open, and Skid and Pump are shown visiting it a few times!

EPISODE 5: Lila gets bit during the chase scene through her house. Bob still got seasoned tho, cuz funny. Jaune hears what happened to Lila and goes to look for Skid, Pump, her son, and the rest of the Hatzgang with Aaron. Lila doesn't join them cuz she's not exactly conscious right now. Sucks to be Lila, person turned into a vampire #1

Then Bob starts going after Skid and Pump. He follows them to the haunted house, Streber gets bitten, his arm gets ripped off, Bob eats it, but he survives, that's it. Yk what happens there /silly. Leon and Ethan call the police. Sucks to be Streber, person turned into a vampire #2

Bob then follows them to the Candy Club, Kevin pulls the candy thing, but Bob doesn't get distracted by the candy! He doesn't like candy in this AU, actually. So, Bob runs over and bites Kevin. Skid and Pump are like "woah so cool, that looks so real!" and run off. Kevin doesn't get turned, and dies, wompwomp. Rick just went back home, so Kevin's body is kinda there for a while until someone notices. RIP Kevin, death #2

Bob would've bitten a member of the Hatzgang, but he was mainly after Skid + Pump because of how he's already bitten Lila (and he also severely dislikes them) and steals their candy for the hide & seek scene. Jaune and Aaron find the Hatzgang, and explain the situation. Carmen shows up and takes Roy home, so Ross and Robert are the only ones that go with them. Everyone in the hatzgang is safe!

Skid and Pump don't get harmed at all in the hide & seek scene. Bob gets hit by a car after they leave the building, like in canon, and everyone gets in the police car. Skid and Pump are safe!

When Bob reaches through the police car window later on to try and stab everyone, he almost bites Jaune. But Aaron pulls her back with everyone else. Jaune is safe!

The rest of the episode plays out like how it does in canon, except Bob isn't actually dead, he's just unconscious. Boys & Grills closes down the next day.

In the secret ending for episode 5, Bob is brought to the morgue, but since he's not actually dead, he finds Patty there. She gets bitten! Jack + John walk in, witnessing the aftermath, and Bob takes off! Now he's in hiding. Sucks to be Patty, person turned into a vampire #3

Uhhhh this ramble is getting WAY TOO LONG but imma put this funny fun fact anyway: Bob is always really nervous around Father Gregor. Father Gregor is always confused as to why, but it's because he has that cross necklace with him everywhere. Bob would kill him, but he can never seem to catch Gregor at a time where he doesn't have his bag of holy weaponry /silly

Oh and Jaune takes care of Skid now

That's pretty much it :3

[callmearcturus]

I find the idea of Benji having like 20 exgirlfriends, boyfriends, and personfriends; while Ethan has dated like 3 people in his entire life, to be hilarious, and now I'm going to integrate it into my headcanons for both of them.

I MEAN I tend to think that before the Prague Job, Ethan was an ethical slut, and it's implied he's having a threesome with Jack and Sarah. (I mean, I literally do not know how else to interpret that line, I have put on my Straight Person Goggles and that line does not make sense unless they are all three dating.) He's flirty and openly teases people.

Then the Prague Job goes fuckways, and Ethan's entire demeanor feels like a very sharp object that neither he nor anyone else knows how to handle. He def fucked Max in the back of that car (I feel like this is even implied by her later dialogue). But its not friendly and fun anymore, it's sharp and dangerous and almost his barricade Ethan is using for his own protection.

AND THEN THERE IS CLAIRE. Claire is trying her best to manipulate the shit out of Ethan, to keep his attention on her and her 'mourning' of Jim rather than the fact Jim is alive and both of them are toying with Ethan.

That extended sequence where Ethan and Jim are talking about "what happened in Prague" intercut with Ethan figuring out what actually happened in Prague-- there's a moment when Ethan pegs Claire as having killed some of the team, but he changes his mind and casts Jim in the role instead because... he doesn't want Claire to be part of this.

TAKE ALL THAT and marry it to the fact that Claire keeps initiating touch with Ethan, tries to get him to comfort her-- that scene with her sleeping on the floor and taking his hand to kiss it is tremendously fucked up.

(I once listened to a podcast that mentioned claire was kind of ethan's love interest and like WOW no. nope. that's not what's happening even a little.)

oh my god i'm rambling but WHAT I AM SAYING is that Ethan has immense trauma that is fueled by sexual manipulation and it honestly feels like it. Twink Ethan as an ethical slut had fun and didn't have to worry about this shit and was all about fair play. Then he has a brief stint as a bad boy that goes badly because robert towne can't write a movie. Then the next we see him he's GETTING MARRIED and leaving the game.

This post is already too long so lets continue. MI3 is fascinating because it's the one I hate the most but Julia and Ethan are tremendous, and the work put into humanizing him is amazing. He's enjoying playing as a doting husband (and 'playing' is inaccurate, he's not lying) and it actively trying to carve himself out of the IMF while multiple people (INCLUDING HIS BEST FRIEND LUTHER) undermine him.

But he still tries, and he leaves, and he's out.

And it all goes to shit. Which is this tremendous tragedy of Ethan Hunt frankly. He put in the work and-- you know the phrase "he's got skin in the game"? Well Ethan had a lot of skin in the game and he let it flay him on his way out just for a chance to actually be out.

GP Ethan is a wildly changed man, but in a way that honestly makes perfect sense to me. The trajectory of his character by design or by accident is an easily tracked arc. (I think McQuarrie gets me on this, or I get him, either or.)

After GP, there is simultaneously an emotional honesty to Ethan... but there's a physical distance. He's older, he's wiser, he's tired, and he's not dragging Benji or Ilsa into a pharmacy closet to have sex. That's not him anymore. But also, there is more raw emotion to everything he does. He feels like he's always on the back foot.

(He comes across as incredibly asexual to me honestly.)

Compared Twink Ethan flirting his way through MI1 to Fallout Ethan getting kissed by the White Widow and having ZERO reaction.

/clutches Ethan to my chest. i love this tired old man.

MEANWHILE: Benji is hot and has a hot bossy streak and has amazing fashion sense. He can get it, he just can't keep it because when Ethan has a job, so does Benji, sooooo yep. lmao.

[thephantomcasebook]

What is even the point of having Aegon sexually violate his mother??!!! Had a cringefest yesterday with my friend after reading that speculation. The sad part is none of this shi* is beyond Hess...and even Ryan, who openly implied in the GOT Con that Daemon was probably 'in love' with Viserys. They were ready to take inc£st to a whole new level. 😭

I think there is a great trap that is absolutely inherent in George RR Martin's writing, in general.

His stories are built on an incredibly subversive and nihilistic foundation that was meant to challenge fantasy tropes that J.R.R. Tolkien and Robert Howard created in the 1930s/1940s.

However, the problem with that is that GRRM has the discipline - most of the time (Read @duxbelisarius military analysis of "The Dance) - to know what the line is for his universe and how far one can take the nihilistic nature of the story and then pull it back. the Dunk & Egg stories are a masterclass in that type of 1960's Marvel Age morality tales in which doing the right thing is the hardest thing to do and you don't get rewarded for it, but the main characters do it anyway and it costs them dearly every time.

However, if you don't recognize that, than the ASoIaF Universe with all it's Nihilism and Brutality is just the type of world that is seductive to lazy and bad writers to dream up and bring into existence some of the most horrific and degenerate situations, because, they believe that is the world of "Game of Thrones". They believe that everything is awful and bad things happen to people all the time. So they can make or write something exploitive, because, they believe it is in the very DNA of Westeros.

That type of small minded thinking is also tempting for someone who has a personal mission to write in their political or social agenda to torture and languish female characters by turning every male character into a monstrous rapist, abuser, or generally unhinged in order to make some bullshit Sapphic social commentary about the treatment of women in the real world and how men hold all the power and patriarchy and all that bullshit.

The issue remains that they fundamentally don't understand the Jack Kirby and Stan Lee type of morals that GRRM is trying to set down. Yes, bad things happen. Yes, humanity is capable of true evil. And the right thing is hard and can be stupid, and you can be punished for doing it. But that doesn't mean that you don't do it. GRRM is constantly taking characters and evolving or degrading their morality, based on the Marvel Age principle of the 1960s Comics he grew up loving.

You give a writer a story in Westeros and they'll show you what kind of storyteller, good or bad, they are by the end of it.

[renamusing]

Wait

When is the ssw for emmerdale. I

know Ian used to give out spoilers like crazy noe he is back do we know the what the theme is about.

Danny coming back after the team was so done with them during the covid era makes ZERO sense but he also has a kid and I can't even blame him for wanting an stable job. Even if is this. He has not control over any of this after all.

But the fucking use of "a prodigal son" over that guy makes me so mad.

The next thing is that every single Dingle will adore him and have xmas eith him as if Robert is not the reason Aaron is still alive.

I hate it so much. Is like the open the wounds that we all have and people are more than ever asking about why ROBERT is not back instead of this.

It does feel like John is reboot-Robert minus everything special Ryan added to the character plus the great writing he got back then (thanks Maxine).

As for this year's super soap week, I don't think anything has been announced yet. The only thing that is known so far is that a major portion of the cast has filmed scenes concerning a big barn fire a few weeks ago (apparently John saves Moira and Ruby's lives, i dont remember more than that, only that Charity, Cain and Chas will be there too, which fits in with what you said about John being welcomed by the Dingles later on lol).

The thing is, I'm not sure whether the filming dates of the barn fire will match with ssw or if the barn fire will be a prelude to whatever happens then? It was also announced that Nate's actor will leave the show, so some people suspect he will die in those ssw eps, and there's also talk of something big happening with belle&tom, though according to the latest interview with one of the producers, their coercive control story will run until the end of the year.

I'm still looking forward to whatever comes, mainly bc John's actor said there were many twists and turns to come and every news piece leading up to his arrival mentioned a return of the Sugdens, so I believe John's appearance is only the start. Maybe Diane will return, maybe some Sugden-adjacent characters like the Merricks, or even Kathy Glover like some rumours suggested.

I've read a few theories recently about how John isn't actually Jack's son but rather the son of Jack's brother Joe, since Joe was romantically linked to John's alleged mother Barbara and also Karen Moore (who was also Jack's girlfriend for a time) which might explain the Aiden Moore dogtags.

Tbh, if John's character wasn't so dull and his romance with Aaron so contrived, I think we would all be having a wonderful time right now. Unfortunately, we gotta work with what we have. Plus the absence of hermit Hawley 😔🙄

[willbyerswithpowersblog]

An old Hollywood expression goes “If the scene is about what the scene is about, you’re in deep shit.” It means writing “on the nose,” writing dialogue and activity in which a character’s deepest thoughts and feelings are expressed by what the character says and does – writing the subtext directly into the text.

Writing this, for example: Two attractive people sit opposite each other at a candlelit table, the lighting glinting off the crystal wineglasses and the dewy eyes of the lovers. Soft breezes billow the curtains. A Chopin nocturne plays in in the background. The lovers reach across the table, touch hands, look longingly in each others’ eyes, say, “I love you, I love you” .. and actually mean it. This is an unactable scene and will die like a rat in the road.

An actor forced to do the candlelit scene might attack it like this: “Why have these people done out of their way to create this movie scene? What’s with the candlelight, soft music, billowing curtains? Why don’t they just take their pasta to the TV set like normal people? What’s wrong with this relationship? Because isn’t that life? When do the candles come out? When everything’s fine? No. When everything’s fine we take our pasta to the TV set like normal people. So from that insight the actor will create a subtext. Now as we watch, we think: “He says he loves her and maybe he does, but look, he’s scared of losing her. He’s desperate.” Or from another subtext: “He says he loves her, but look, he’s setting her up for bad news. He’s getting ready to walk out.”

The scene is not about what it seems to be about. Its about something else. And it’s that something else – trying to regain her affection or softening her up for the barkeep – that will make the scene work. There’s always a subtext, and inner life that contrasts with or contradicts the text. Given this, the actor will create a multi layered work that allows us to see through the text to the truth that vibrates beyond the eyes, voice and gestures of life. ..

How then would we write a love scene? Let Two people change a tire on a car. let this scene be a virtual textbook on how to change a flat. Let all dialogue and action be about jack, wretch, hubcup, and lug nuts: Hand me that would you? Watch out. Don't get dirty. Let me whoops. The actors will interpret the real action of the scene, so leave room for them to bring romance to life wholly from the inside. As their eyes meet and sparks fly we’ll know what's happening because it is in the unspoken thoughts and motions of the actors. As we see through the surface, we will lean back with a knowing smile: look what happened. They're not just changing the tire on a car. He thinks she is hot and she knows it. Boy has met girl.

Robert McKee, Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting

The audience knows that people rarely, if ever, understand themselves, and if they do, they’re incapable of complete and honest self-explanation. There’s always a subtext. If, by chance, what a character says about himself is actually true, we don’t know it’s true until we witness his choices made under pressure. Self-explanation must be validated or contradicted in action.

This is one of the reasons why byler is simply better written than m*leven.

Because when they talk about going crazy together, there's subtext.

When Will says it's not possible for him to want to join another party they're not really talking about DnD.

And the most obvious example Will wasn't talking about El in the Van scene.

[bobbie-robron]

See imo I always felt Robert did want to hurt Andy least subconsciously. He was resentful of Andy and didn't just get over it, like Sarah death, Jack favouritism etc. I do think large part of the attraction to Katie was because she was Andy's girlfriend. Also you say he did not want to hurt Andy but not enough to walk or way or not rub it in, by cruelly taking Katie from him, then after all that cheats on Katie anyway. Even back then I felt it was more about taking her from Andy. I not saying he did not fall for her in some way but yeah I think personally he had feelings for people different reasons and ulterior motives. Until he met Aaron, which was no other motive in being with him which makes him kind stand out to his other relationships like. Also I don't get Katie obsession? if she moved on from Robert and was happy with Andy. was she really that petty and spiteful that she could not handle her ex had a better life than her. did Robert engraving in the rings really hurt/touch a nerve she had get back at him even though he apologised and offered to fix them. I think Katie was a one up on Andy but he did genuinely take a shine to her also. the fact he moved onto Debbie afterwards just to take Sarah from him shows he motived by revenge on Andy deep down. I think him being kicked out the family he festered resentment onto Andy and Katie esp they being back together on his return.

‘I do think large part of the attraction to Katie was because she was Andy’s girlfriend.’ At the time all of this was kicking off, I don’t believe that was the case, at least what I saw unfolding in the episodes. It was not something that happened right away but there was pacing involved. The glances, the longing looks, etc. Both were resisting the urge to take it further because they didn’t want to hurt Andy until they couldn’t any longer. And even with the affair, they BOTH took extremes to make sure Andy didn’t learn about them (with Victoria a casualty in that mess). Katie almost walked away from the both of them because no matter which she chose, the other would get hurt. She chose Robert in the end who was clearly hurting when she left for a time.

As for the cheating on Katie, at least the first time, I’m starting to think this is something in comparison to Chrissie and Aaron. While he was in love with Katie, she wasn’t enough and enter Sadie. He stops things with her when she asked him to do things he didn’t feel right about. Now, the going back to sleeping with her later on is pure plot in my opinion and there had to be something that would force Katie out of the village (so the actress could have her maternity leave). Robert also was a teen and didn’t understand the concept that being a friend/consoling said friend didn’t mean sleeping with them or that being in a relationship meant being faithful. Would the story have played out differently if Katie stuck out the rest the that year? Who knows.

As I mentioned in my other reply, all of this is new but am aware he goes after Debbie the last month he’s in the village. By then, with Katie having left (and only writing to Andy later), Jack sticking with Andy more and more and lastly being disowned by Jack, that reignited the vendetta from when he got off the bus years earlier. He wanted back at Andy however possible and his ladies were his in which also included Libby.

Aaron was an island to himself far removed from anyone else Robert had been with and he made Robert want to be a better person and he would have been an exception to the rule (unfortunately, with the producer’s need to repeat a HO plot from beginning to end and forcing his creation on us at the same time, that exception was not to be). He was everything and he didn’t need more.

Don’t get me started with the Katie obsession. Seeing when she did leave on classic and that she wasn’t around when Karl!Robert exited, the reactions from both Andy and Katie become more overboard when Ryan!Robert returned in 2014. Katie and Andy were engaged while Robert was with Chrissie. That only showed Katie’s feelings were still there even if she was supposedly happy with Andy. Then there was Chas who had barely any interactions with Robert and little to say when the Katie/Robert blowup occurred but she had this hatred for a teenager from a decade ago. It was all very much revved up drama, like that gap decade never happened but rather it was a continuation of 2005. The engraving on the rings (I don’t recall Katie being called the village bike, Donna had that honor) only kicked off Katie’s reason for her obsession to go full on to lead to her permanent exit.

[kitkatt0430-recommends]

Another round of older fic recommendations - somehow I'm still not done going through all my old FFnet favs. I'm including Ao3 links where I can and describing the fics in my own words.

The Master Manipulator by Guildsister - Robert Hogan has been fighting the Nazis in whatever capacity he can since before his country even joined the war and he's not about to stop now just because he's become a PoW.

This one isn't just a favorite Hogan's Heroes fic, it is The Favorite. The best I've read and what comes to mind first when I feel like reading Hogan's Heroes fanfics. Guildsister did a lot of research for this fic, the characterization of Klink here is my absolute favorite, and Hogan's back story just makes so much sense that I forget sometimes it's not canon. It captures the spirit of the show while grounding it more firmly in reality. It's rated T and found on FFnet.

An Unacceptable Sitch by Allaine - Kim's in college and out of the world saving business, or at least she was until Shego shows up one evening asking for Kim's help. The family that's taken over what was Team Possible's niche isn't the clan of goody two-shoes that everyone thinks they are and both Kim and Shego are going to need to put aside their differences if they're going to get themselves back in fighting shape to stop them.

This is the first in a series - six completed fics and one unfinished - that eventually winds up Kim/Shego for the ship. It ignores the events of S4 - I think it may have been started before Kim and Ron hooked up on the show? - so Kim and Ron never dated here. It's one of my favorite Kim Possible fic series, as it captures a lot of what I really enjoyed about the show. Kim's struggles with accepting herself and her feelings for Shego over the course of the series is also interesting - and considering her difficulties with her social life on the show, feels very true to the character. It's rated T and found on FFnet.

Home for the Holidays by Acid Rain - In which the orphanage gang gets together for the holidays and naturally winds up fighting a natural disaster. But the natural disaster is probably still a lot less stressful than the holiday shopping that preceeded it.

It's part of a series, but stands alone quite well. A Seifer/Squall post canon fic with lots of humor. It's actually a multi-author collaboration and I know at least one of them can be found on Ao3 these days. This fic, however, is rated M and found on FFnet.

Insomnia by tikitikirevenge - Link may have time travel on his side, but that doesn't mean he's got all the time in the world. He can only reset reality so many times before the consequences start to set in…

This one is an unfinished retelling of Majora's Mask. And while it doesn't seem likely this one will be finished, it's well worth the read. It really captured the unsettling feeling of Majora's Mask and the urgency of the time limit comes through with how here everything is happening concurrently - so while Link is helping in the swamp in the fic, future versions of him are already completing tasks in other areas. And he only has so many loops before things go wrong anyway. It's rated T and found on FFnet.

A Brief Account of Life With Zombies by Silverpard - The zombie apocalypse happens. Of course the Holmes brothers find it a nuisance more than anything.

A short but humorous zombie fic set in the Sherlock tv series. Not usually a zombie fan, but silly parodies like this are definitely my cup of tea. I was pleased to find this over on Ao3 (and there's a pod fic of it too) where it's rated G. It's epistolary style, with emails and texts mainly, so there's a bit of distance to the apocalypse too.

To the Sticking Place by zephyras13 - Ianto Jones is sent to Torchwood 3 before the destruction of Torchwood 1 as a field agent meant to keep an eye on the place for Yvonne Hartmon. And Jack hates him for it. But it is hard to hate a person forever. And there's more to Ianto Jones than he lets on.

It's a canon re-write with a dash of fix-fic, though poor Owen and Tosh still don't make it. It's really good with Jack/Ianto as the main ship - the disasters. It's rated M and I was glad to find it over on Ao3.

Truthfully by Salazarfalcon - Loki is absolutely all about causing chaos and starting trouble… but Earth also has this little thing called therapy and it's might actually be helping.

In which Loki starts working out his issues in therapy, discovers he enjoys self care, and becomes more than a bit attached to the Earth. There's no ship here, just family feels and Loki coming to terms with being lied to all his life. Rated T and found on FFnet.

To Turn to the Dark Side, Press Three by frodogenic - The true path to the dark side… being put repeatedly on hold with the insurance company. The hold music keeps playing operas about the Sith - it's really only a matter of time…

A ridiculously silly story about Anakin having to deal with the insurance company after having his arm chopped off by Dooku. He gets put on hold. A lot. The fic is rated G and is indeed on Ao3.

To Save the Queen by AwayOHumanChild - Sabe is living out her dreams of being handmaiden to the Queen when war comes to Naboo. First in a series spanning the Prequel series.

While it's partly a fix-fic, it's mainly just a 'what was going on with the handmaidens' fic. It's a lot of fun - I absolutely adore all the different handmaidens - and there's some Sabe/Obi-Wan going on (very, very, very slowburn) alongside the canon Anakin/Padme. Rated K+ on FFnet. At one point it did start getting cross posted to Ao3, but alas it appears that effort was abandoned part-way through the first fic some years ago. But the series is complete on FFnet and it's one of my favorite Prequel Series fanfics.

Letter to the Manufacturer by Alexis Seven - Kirk writes a complaint about the parachutes used during the mission to Vulcan and ends up in an email chain regarding product warnings and complementary parachutes.

A somewhat dark comedic take on customer service regarding the parachutes used in the 2009 Star Trek movie. Written in epistolary form, it's basically a series of emails back and forth between Kirk and the company that made the parachutes. Rated K+ and found on FFnet.

[ava-of-shenanigans]

I posted 12,653 times in 2022

That's 12,504 more posts than 2021!

989 posts created (8%)

11,664 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hydepotions

@scribe-ciphernaught

@mist-the-wannabe-linguist

I tagged 4,387 of my posts in 2022

#dracula - 1,206 posts

#ava has thoughts - 672 posts

#frankenstein - 404 posts

#rm renfield - 353 posts

#fav - 272 posts

#jonathan harker - 229 posts

#jack seward - 226 posts

#victor frankenstein - 210 posts

#dracula daily - 207 posts

#count dracula - 197 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚!!!!💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Imagine if Mina and Renfield figured out Dracula was in the house together and they teamed up to stop him. And then the next time the suitors + Van Helsing + Jonathan get back from breaking and entering, Mina’s like “Hey guys, we got him!” And they come in the house to see Mina and Renfield both absolutely covered in blood, and Mina holding a big butterfly net ringed in garlic flowers, inside of which is a very pissed off Batcula.

294 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#4

Petition to transfer Basil Hallward to a book with less assholes in it.

324 notes - Posted January 6, 2022

#3

Hey, heads up, the next Dracula Daily entry (tomorrow, the 17th) contains more racist stereotypes of Romani people, and also of Slovak people. If anyone wants to skip that but still know what happens in the book, here’s a quick summary:

Jonathan sees some people drive up to the castle with wagons behind them. Jonathan runs down to the main hall, thinking that it will be opened because of the wagon drivers, but finds that the door is locked from the outside. Jonathan tries to call to the drivers for help but they don’t listen. Some large, heavy, empty crates are unloaded from the wagons, and then they drive off.

747 notes - Posted June 16, 2022

#2

Ranking gothic lit characters by the things they do instead of sleeping

(Note: This post is a joke, and maintaining a healthy sleep schedule is important)

11. Dracula: Being the worst

10. Robert Walton: Writing down everything Victor Frankenstein says

9. The Phantom (Erik): Stalking people, causing problems, working on an opera (Unrealistic, people are not actually productive when they stay up)

8. Jack Seward: His work (lame cause he’s bad at it), ignoring his emotions (realistic)

7. Utterson: Tracking down Edward Hyde (exciting)

6. Dorian Gray: Staring at his portrait (relatable, but lame), sinning (cool)

5. Griffin: Experiencing the consequences of his actions (relatable)

4. Johnathan Harker: Worrying about the vampires that are trying to eat him (exciting)

3. Adam Frankenstein: Reading Paradise Lost (cool), setting fires (fun!), starving in the woods (tragic)

2. Dr. Jekyll: Violence (fun!), being Edward Hyde (funner!)

1. Victor Frankenstein: Playing god (cool), angsting (realistic)

981 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Idk what exactly this is, but I had a lot of fun making it

See the full post

1,172 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[aoitrinity]

Why Do I Have to Feel Like a Fucking Conspiracy Theorist -- OR -- How I Find a Semblance of Peace on Sunday Night

I’m also going to start this out with a GIANT DISCLAIMER.

I am about to theorize about what may have happened to the SPN finale. I have absolutely no insider knowledge. I am merely speculating here based on the panels and a bunch of Twitter and Tumblr posts that I have been reading over the last few days. If you are not in a good place to read such things, TURN BACK PLEASE. Go take care of yourself and your mental health. You and your feelings are valid and deserve to be handled gently right now.

Additionally, if you are here to give me shit for being unhappy with the ending, please walk away as well. I am here to reach out and share my feelings with people who might be struggling to make sense of something that upset some of us in very deep-seated ways. I am not here to bother you or critique you or tell you that you’re lesser because you liked the ending. If you felt it was good, then go enjoy it.

Long-ass post beneath the cut, everyone.

Alrighty folks...I debated whether or not to do this because I have been spiraling down the hell that is the SPN finale since Thursday. The travesty of what happened to our show--to this beloved show that seemed to have been so perfectly and precisely written for at least four years that it had basically already paved its own tarmac on which to land its plane and we all thought we knew exactly what we were going to get. And then we didn’t. We had a nigh Cas-less and entirely Eileen-less ending. We had no goodbye between Cas and Jack. We had Dean dying young after finally finding his freedom, only to ascend to heaven with no one but Bobby. We had the weird, weird, weird incest-y death scene. We had the bridge crane shot thing because...sure. You do you, Robert Singer.

It was so terrible, so truly awful, and I couldn’t seem to square any of it with anything we had known going in. I tossed and turned and cried and didn’t eat or sleep all weekend. I spent hours just reloading tumblr and twitter, going to the Misha panel, reading and reading and listening and trying to figure out what the fucking hell is going on because I needed to know exactly where to direct my anger. And after a fuckton of talking with @winchester-reload, I think we have at least a very plausible theory about what happened here--I’m laying it out below as much for my own peace of mind as anything else, because otherwise all of these thoughts are going to continue to spin around in my head for weeks and I won’t be able to do jack shit.

Now to start off, unfortunately I do think Dean was slated to die from the beginning of this season. I don’t know WHY they thought that was the best way to go, and I wish they had listened to Jensen on this one. Part of me wonders if it was an order from on high based on the discussion between Becky and Chuck earlier this season--the writers knew it wasn’t a great choice, but they were trying to signal to us that we should feel free to write our own endings to the story because they’d be better (I can wax poetic on the signs of why many of the writers probably wanted Dean to live, but that’s another post). I’m not defending that choice by any means, just laying it out there that I think they didn’t necessarily all want to kill Dean like they did.

However, what I THINK I can explain now is what happened with Misha and why we got so jerked around with Cas’s story. Consider what we know (I can’t immediately source all of it, but I did my best):

At the end of episode 15x19, Lucifer has been returned to the Empty after being killed AGAIN. He talks with Cas. Maybe harasses him a bit about Dean, idk. But then...Jack shows up. New God Jack. And he picks up Cas and pulls him out of the Empty, leaving Lucifer behind, because seriously. Fuck that guy (also leaving behind his abusive father is character growth for Jack, so yay for that).

-Misha was contracted to film 15 episodes this season. He was only in 14.

-Misha told Michael Sheen he had to go back to film 1.5 episodes after the shutdown in March. (Starts at 6:13)

-Misha was in Vancouver during filming of the finale.

-Mark P said at Darklight Con that the last scene he filmed was with Alex and Misha (and Mark P was only in episode 19).

-Misha implied that he was present for various filming moments, including Dean’s death (start at 35:15), and said that it felt like a “mini-reunion.”

-Various sources have mentioned that Jimmy Novak was supposed to be in the finale.

-After episode 18, Stands tweeted a fan who was angered and hurt by Cas's death that they could talk about the “bury the gays” issue after the finale aired.

-In episode 19 we know there were takes of the parking lot scene where the only thing fans observing could hear was Dean yelling “CAS” at Chuck (fuck I can’t find this one right now, but it’s definitely out there)

-Also in episode 19, we had a very strange, awkward montage at the end of the episode.

-In episode 20, we know there were a FUCKTON of missing scenes

-We also had no opening montage, but three other separate montages.

-Carry on My Wayward Son was played TWICE, back-to-back at the end of the episode.

-Episode 20 was shorter than normal and had surprisingly little dialogue. The pacing was VERY strange.

-The cast and crew has been almost completely silent about the finale since it came out. When they have spoken, it has been with an awkward excuse of “Uh...COVID?”

-Samantha Ferris has specifically noted that, despite the Harvelle’s being back in play and a big heaven reunion having been planned pre-COVID, neither she nor Chad Lindberg received any such invitation to return.

-Cas and Dean POP Funko figures were pictured together in a replica of Harvelle’s in 15x04.

NOW with all of this in mind (and I’m probably missing some stuff too because there is so much--feel free to add on to that list), please bear with me because here is what I think we were SUPPOSED to get POST-COVID (after it was determined that the reunion couldn’t happen because of the virus):

In episode 20, we start with our NORMAL OPENING MONTAGE, like always. It traces everything that happened during the season. We are reminded of Cas. The confession. Rowena. Eileen. Jack. Billie, God, the Empty, all of it. 

Things then follow along in the episode where they did up until Dean dies and wakes up in heaven. After his conversation with Bobby, he drives off to find Cas (who, in the script, was listed as “Jimmy Novak” in order to protect against script leaks--who wouldn’t want to do their best to avoid spoilers about the finale with the wrapping of a fifteen-year show?). He does indeed find Cas. We get Dean’s end of the confession. Hell, maybe we even get a kiss. And then Dean sets up his new heaven home in the recreated Harvelle’s. Maybe Cas even fucking moves in. 

Years pass. We get Sam having his life on Earth (still can’t explain why they cut Eileen and couldn’t even have Sam signing vaguely to the blurry brunette in the background; if anyone wants to take that on, go for it). Eventually, Cas tells Dean that it’s almost Sam’s time. Dean takes Baby and goes to meet Sam at the bridge. The cover of Carry on My Wayward Son plays during this much shorter sequence. End of episode.

But that’s not what we got. Instead, much of what I just wrote about was excised from the episode. The remnants were stitched together after shooting had been wrapped. Filler was added in the form of montages and long, unnecessary extra shots to get the episode to something approaching a reasonable length. 

But why? Why would they spend all that time and money and quarantining on Misha, only to almost completely cut him out of the finale? I struggled with why the fuck the CW would want this mammoth show to go down as the greatest queerbait in TV history when they had the chance to do something truly beautiful and monumental with it? It couldn’t just be sheer homophobia, right? Well, I think that factored into it, my friends, but here is where my head is at right now.

It was about cold, hard cash.

Now I could be wrong, but this is what I’m thinking at the moment: Supernatural is going off of the air. Supernatural, the CW’s cash cow for fifteen years. Sure there is still money to be made on blu-rays and merchandise and cons...but they need people watching their shows. They need that sweet advertising revenue. And you know what show they have about to premiere? A show that could, potentially, bring with it a chunk of that SPN revenue?

Walker.

And if any of you know anything about the original Walker Texas Ranger, you know that the show was predominantly a show about a very heterosexual white man being very excessively heterosexual. And for SOME REASON over the years, many of the execs at the CW still seem to think that this show, Supernatural, is really attractive to a lot of middle-American white men...whom they desperately want to watch this new show with this guy from Supernatural that they already know.

Now here’s where COVID fucked us. I think Destiel was greenlit by TPTB, at least in SOME form, before COVID. But then the pandemic happened, and they panicked. They got the cut of the last two episodes and watched them in their original, probably queer form. And then, the execs at CW looked at the economy. They looked at their cash cow, about to make its journey to the great beyond. And they looked at this new little calf Walker that they were so desperately worried about. And they made a choice.

They decided that it would be too risky to take the step with Destiel. They were worried about frightening off their ever-so-valuable hetero male demographic with the possibility that a traditionally masculine man in his 40s could be in love with another man in an overt way. It was homophobia mixed with greed, spun up by fear for their revenues because of COVID.

So they called in Singer, possibly Dabb, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they went straight to Singer. They told them that Destiel had to go: executive orders. And the only way to make it go in a way that removed any trace of what had been there was to rewrite what happened to Cas and cut him out from the last two episodes entirely. It was too late to reshoot anything. They had to just cut and stitch and fill with bullshit montages. 

They removed the scene at the end of 19, probably because Cas and Lucifer discussed Dean. All that was left of Misha there was his voice on that fake phone call. They may have cut other things too, but I would bet my life that they cut a scene from the end of the episode and replaced it with that very strange montage. Then they moved onto 20. They cut out every scene with Cas. And left in only two platonic mentions of him, neither made by Dean. They tried to imply that Cas might show up in Dean’s heaven at some point, but that was as far as the editors could go in the time they had. They filled in with montages, awkwardly long shots, anything they could do to fill all of those missing scenes.

And they even had to take the opening montage, because literally everything in it pointed to Cas being there at the end of it all. They wouldn’t be able to leave out his scenes, they were too critical to the season. They couldn’t cut his confession without raising eyebrows. So they cut the whole thing and moved “Carry On My Wayward Son” to one of the newly-added driving montages at the end. Which is why we awkwardly had both songs play back-to-back--again, such a strange choice unless they were out of options and couldn’t exactly buy rights to a new track or compose anything else.

And so we were left with the shadow of the finale that we deserved, that Cas and Dean deserved. We were left without resolution or happiness or words. Bobo told us the most important thing about happiness is just “saying it” and our characters were silenced without anyone ever knowing the truth.

I think the writers might have known and been given the new party line that “Misha never filmed, he couldn’t, sorry, it was COVID, no one’s fault!” But I don’t think most of the cast even knew it had happened until they watched the finale on Thursday with us (though they might have been confused why the bit from 15x19 was sliced, they could reasonably have assumed it was a time thing and also BL episodes don’t make sense anyway). Why do I say that?

Well, first of all, Misha started sending out a bunch of excited texts to fans with some old BTS pictures about an hour before the show started airing on EST. He also wanted his children to see the episode, his YOUNG children. Why would he show them such a traumatic episode if their Dad wasn’t in it? What if it was because he wanted them to witness what was going to be a monumental moment in queer television history that their DAD got to be a part of? And then that was all dashed.

Which is why I think the cast and crew went almost completely radio silent the next day. I don’t think they knew. And based on how they have been acting on social media since then, I think many of them are absolutely furious, but they have been silenced because of NDAs, because they want to find work again in a cutthroat industry, because they don’t want to bring down the hellfire of Warner Brothers Entertainment upon themselves. So the most we have gotten is a little acknowledgement from the MERCHANDISING COMPANY trying to validate our pain (god bless Shirts, she is a LIFESAVER) and a response to my salty tweet about keeping good stuff in the closet from Adam Williams (the VFX coordinator) that seemed to acknowledge the validity of my complaint.

Then there was a scramble behind the scenes, I would bet my life. Talking points were fed to the boys who had panels today, to CE, to all the cast and crew:

Toe the party line. Misha never filmed. This was always about COVID. Do not mention Destiel. Do not mention Dean’s feelings for Cas. Do not promote the Castiel Project or anything that validates the idea that this was anything less than a superb ending.

And that is why we have heard so little from the cast on this front, and what we have heard has been muddled and contradictory. That is why the writers are saying nothing. That is why we have been left adrift.

Now before I close this out, I do want to say that I really, genuinely do not think this was on the writers at all. I feel like they tried to give us the best ending that they could, in a writers room that we know is notorious for splitting along party lines about the overall story (BL and Singer, who have always been about the brothers and their man-pain vs. Dabb and the rest who always seemed to want more for them and for Cas). I think they did everything in their power to at least end with Dean and Cas happy together. If they could give us nothing else, they wanted to give us that. And then the network took it from them. From us. From everyone.

For the sake of fucking money. 

And the WORST PART OF IT ALL, for me, is that in the wake of this disaster, the fans have been left to try and figure out what happened. We have had to wade through a mire of conflicting information in the midst of all of our collective anger and grief over this garbage ending of a show many of us have loved and even relied on for YEARS, all the while wondering if we’re just fucking crazy, if we have all fallen collectively into the hole of conspiracy theories. That hurts ESPECIALLY badly because we have taken so many hits over the years from other groups on social media saying we were crazy for seeing things that weren’t there (especially Destiel), for writing meta and analyzing tropes and believing the evidence of our eyes and ears. The network has made us relive that entire nightmare WHILE processing our grief for a show we wanted so badly to celebrate and which instead we now have to mourn.

So again guys, I cannot prove that this is exactly what happened at all; this is simply my idea of what may have happened. But right now, it’s the most sense I can make from this mess, and to be honest, the act of typing it out has helped me enormously in my processing of it all. I feel like I can see more clearly, like I know where to target my outrage and where to direct empathy. I feel like just fucking maybe, I might be able to do my job tomorrow without bursting into tears at random moments. 

I really hope that this post has helped some of you to, in some small way, process this too. We get through this the way that Misha told us at his panel this morning, the way the writers have told us to do all season long...we throw out the story God gave us and we make it better. We write our characters the happy endings they deserve. 

We save them.

One last thing--if you have not already, please consider channeling your rage into a donation to one of the five causes our fandom has put together to pay tribute to our beloved show and to mourn the ending it should have had:

-The Castiel Project

-Dean Winchester is Love

-Sam Winchester Project

-The National Association of the Deaf

-The Jack Kline Project

[masterwords]

Could I ask for "Can you stay for the night?" for Hotchgan maybe, if you're still in the mood for fluff?

Oh, yes. Yes you can. I tried VERY hard to make this an injury free story, you know, to challenge myself?...it does have its moments but given the timeframe I put it in, I think it isn't too bad...maybe it isn't EXACTLY fluff but it's certainly close. I enjoyed writing this a little too much I think. As always, quick and dirty, very little editing just a really nice and fast passionate write. Thank you for the prompt! Feel free to send anytime! (4.3k words // On AO3 if you prefer)

Want me to write something quick and fluffy for you?

**

“The FBI Triathlon is coming up.”

Hotch regards his physician with the same stony look as always. No reaction, he doesn't want to encourage any direction this conversation might be headed. All avenues point to something he doesn't want to hear. Hands folded in his lap, sweaty palms, he's sitting at his most vulnerable in a gown on an exam table. Open in the back? He'd foolishly asked, but no such luck. Open in the front, they want to do a repeat EKG. Everything looks normal on the surface, but there was something about his sudden weight loss that had his doctor more than a little concerned. His last EKG was interesting, but not concerning. Just enough that they wanted to check again.

“I think some rigorous exercise would do you some good. Get you back into a routine, force you to care about the food you eat again. Your food journal is...” he pauses and Hotch feels his neck flush. “It's concerning.”

Concerning. Apparently a handful of baby carrots and the discarded crust from Jack's turkey sandwich didn't constitute a full meal, according to his doctor. He ate, sure he did, but more often than not it was meals of convenience...short on time doesn't equate to spending time in the kitchen crafting anything decent. A microwaveable dinner of chicken breast and broccoli, a pb&j at 10pm after a long day tied up in meetings, yeah okay his diet left a lot to be desired but it wasn't that bad he thought.

He remains silent, hating where this is headed. “I know you don't want to hear this, Aaron, but you've suffered a tremendous number of losses and setbacks in the last year and they have clearly taken a toll on your health. You don't seem to have done any great damage yet, nothing a man in your general shape can't bounce back from, but if you continue on this path...”

“I...” he opens his mouth, ready to defend himself, but his doctor raised his hand with a gently persuasive smile.

“I know. You're doing what you can. All I'm saying is, it might not be a bad thing to find a healthy distraction. The triathlon would be a good start, it comes with an expiration date. You train hard, you complete the race, and perhaps some new and healthier habits will have formed in the meantime even if you no longer want to proceed with any of that beyond the race.”

He looks at the training schedule his nurse printed up for him, the name and phone number of her favorite trainers and he sighs. As if he has the time for this...he wants to explain to his doctor that his poor habits have more to do with burning the candle at both ends than trauma, even if he thinks it's mostly untrue. Adding some sort of intense training into it certainly won't help. But his nurse smiles at him kindly and he says he'll think about it. Her husband works in Counter Terrorism, Hotch knows him, supposes he'll be doing the triathlon and this is his training schedule. They probably train as a couple. She assures him that even working as much as he does, it's a doable schedule and he thinks she's out of her mind but he smiles and thanks her anyway. He has to get back to work, these mid-morning doctor's visits are really getting troublesome.

“Ask Agent Morgan,” Robert from Counter Terrorism (his nurse's husband who just happens to already know about the triathlon and Hotch's supposed interest in the blasted thing) said to him in the elevator after Hotch mentioned very innocently that he was troubled by the idea of keeping on track training by himself. It was only polite conversation and he was irritated that he hadn't seen the direction it would go. “He's hell on wheels down at the Academy, everyone's afraid of getting him as their instructor. If that guy can't keep your ass moving and get you race ready, I don't know who could.”

He hates how right Robert is, and he's also certain he shouldn't ask Derek. For plenty of reasons. There had been some hard feelings over Emily's death and subsequent un-death that they were still working through, it might be crossing a line he had no intention of crossing. Especially given their interesting and complicated history. He gets up early and tries to go on his own, but he loses steam halfway and sits on a park bench more inclined to cry than continue running. His doctor would have a heyday with this one.

He finished out of sheer spite, refusing to admit that he would rather cry than run, and decided it would make sense to at least float the idea to Derek.

“You can say no,” Hotch says on the jet, it's late and they're all tired but he's already been putting this training thing off for a week and the deadline to sign up for the race was looming. He hasn't even thought about getting out there on his own again, afraid to find out how much sooner his unchecked emotional state would rear its ugly head in a city park. Being a public spectacle was up near the top of the worst things he could imagine. It really was now or never, and he figured he'd have to find a new physician if he chose never...that sounded somehow worse. “Please, don't feel any pressure. I'm asking as a friend, not your boss...” Desperate, he knows he already sounds desperate.

“I'll train with you.” Derek grins, waggling his eyebrows and Hotch's immediate response is to groan miserably.

“Robert told you?”

“You know those Terrorism boys can't keep their mouths shut. I played a pick-up game with them a few days ago and he mentioned you were looking for someone to whip you into shape. Thought maybe you'd decided not to do it.”

“I don't want to do it.” He pauses and, in the interest of full disclosure, sucks a breath in through clenched teeth. “I guess it's doctor's orders. A strongly worded suggestion.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don't wanna do it either. I saw that email go out last month and dumped it into the trash right away. Hate cycling, the way it makes your ass go numb and never mind accidentally sitting on your balls but...I'll do it for you.” He knows the last part came out a little more intense than he'd intended, but he lets it hang there anyway. A part of him wants to ask why Hotch's doctor is forcing him to do this, but he doesn't think he wants to know the answer...he can imagine, anyway. It's been a hard year, and Hotch is always the first to look like he's bounced back but Derek is fairly certain he's the last to actually do it.

Swallowing a lump the size of a golf ball in his throat, Hotch forces what looks like a very sick smile in the dim cabin lighting. “Thanks, Derek.”

(x)

It starts with early morning runs, Morgan says that's the easiest part. They meet up, synchronize their watches, and hit the road, so simple. Except that Morgan is faster than he is so it doesn't take long before he's in the lead and trying to slow his pace for Hotch who is more out of shape than he'd thought. He's got a stitch in his side by mile 3 and desperately waves for Morgan to go ahead while he uses his other hand to grab his side and press against the rebelling muscles. It slows his pace considerably but his legs don't stop moving and he doesn't feel like crying so he must be doing something right.

“I need motivation, not hand holding...meet me at the cars.” He gasps it more than he shouts, but Derek hears it loud and clear. He doesn't hesitate to run on ahead, picking up his pace considerably. As he speeds away at show off speeds he promises to wait at the end, no matter how long it takes. Hotch groans miserably and rubs deeper at the stitch in his side until it eases. He hits his stride again eventually, and when he comes loping into the parking lot on his last burst of energy, Derek has two coffees and a smile waiting for him. He had so much time to kill after finishing that he'd walked to the coffee shop on the corner, ordered, and managed to come back all before Hotch finished. He couldn't believe he lost that much time, and now maybe he did feel like crying but it was for a very different reason. Now he's just angry that he couldn't keep up and he thinks he can use this for motivation even more than Morgan's support. Nothing like a little healthy (he hopes it's healthy) competition to get him moving.

“You made it!” Derek announces, sipping his coffee while Hotch catches his breath and tries to remember the last time he ran six miles. He used to run all the time, hell he did it for fun and now...this is just torture. He definitely can't hold hot liquid yet, he'd spill it all over himself and end up in the ER with second degree burns. “Not bad time either, man. No short cuts? Did all your laps?”

Hotch scowls at the implications. “I didn't cheat, Derek. Clearly I'm dying.”

“You'll be fine. See you at work, boss.”

(x)

Quantico has a gym with a pool, and at first they hit it on their lunch breaks. That makes it easy, they meet a the elevators, hit the locker rooms and burst their way through lap after lap. Hotch is a better swimmer than he is a runner these days, months of physical therapy after the stabbing had ingrained it in him as a good way to blow off some steam. Hotch isn't a big fan of the lunch hour swimming though, he hates having wet hair at work and he rarely has enough time to do more than a quick towel dry before he's needed upstairs. His office is too cold for wet hair and he's running the dusty old space heater beneath his desk just to get warm again. Since his weight loss, he's having trouble regulating his body temperature, more than usual even. He's always run cold but this isn't quite the same. Morgan sits down to meet with him about a custodial interview he's been tasked with, making sure he's prepared and notices the smell the dusty old thing gives off right away. The whole office smells like a burning storage unit.

“You cold?”

“I'll live.” He smiles and nudges the heater with his toe absentmindedly. Morgan just laughs.

“I know that. I asked if you were cold. We can swim after work, if this lunch stuff isn't good for you. I'm game.”

“Derek,” Hotch begins softly, looking over the file Derek has presented him with, forcing his memory to kick into gear. “I've already asked you to devote too much of your free time to this endeavor. It really isn't fair for me to ask you to accommodate my temperature regulation issues.” Derek has always loved the irritating way Hotch phrased things, and this is no exception. He lets out a little laugh and formulates a response in code.

“Your furnace is busted, I get it. Mine overheats sometimes.” He's speaking in riddles, some secret code they would use in front of Gideon a lot. Drove him nuts. He knew exactly what they were saying but failed to find the way they were purposely obtuse amusing. More than once he snapped at them to stop talking like Bilbo Baggins. “Let's swim after work. That way you can go home and take a hot bubble bath or something lame.”

“I don't...” he groans, but nods anyway. Derek was joking with him again, it was a step in the right direction after years of turmoil. “Okay. Thank you. But if it starts to cut into your plans, you'll tell me?”

He wouldn't, but Derek nods anyway. “Yeah.”

(x)

His doctor has pleasant things to say, even if he insists on another EKG anyway. He's not out of the woods but he applauds the positive changes. Hotch leaves the office not feeling dread for the first time in months. At least until he gets a text from Penelope letting him know that they're needed urgently on a case and they don't have time to debrief in the round table room. Straight to the jet, sir, everyone is waiting.

“Is Hotch seeing someone?” Penelope asks while the team wait for Hotch on the jet. She's coming along this time, they need all hands on deck. “You'd tell me if he was, right?” She looks directly at Rossi first, knowing that if anyone had the inside scoop it would be him, but he just laughs and shrugs.

“I don't know anything about anything,” he says softly. He keeps his voice down, but Penelope presses on. She knows Reid wouldn't have any idea and she gets nowhere each time she asks Derek. He just says irritating things like when would he have time? He's with me morning noon and night working out babygirl. She shudders at the thought and moves on quickly. JJ and Emily don't know but they love to fuel the fire so they mention that he seems to smile more now, and he isn't in the office as often these days. Derek, once more in an attempt to save Hotch from the gossip machine, points out that they're working out day and night. None of them hear anything more than static the minute he talks about how they put in 8 miles this morning before work.

“Statistically,” Reid starts, launching into something about widowers and dating after their wives pass. Penelope doesn't have the heart to correct him, mention that Hotch wasn't a widower, it's not really his point but it does make her feel a little giddy knowing she could correct the infallible boy genius. If she wanted to. Instead, she just smiles wistfully.

“He just seems...happy.” That's the last thing Penelope gets out before Hotch is stepping onto the jet, but Derek smiles at that, because that feels like a compliment that he'll take even if he doesn't mention it.

(x)

Cases make things more challenging, but they make do. Midnight runs around high school tracks help them blow off steam, even if they don't log as many miles that way. It's better than lying awake all night in a strange bed, and they both claim it helps them think. If the hotel has a pool, they make their way down after hours...the front desk people are usually willing to allow them access as long as they promise not to mess around. “Just a few laps,” Derek says, flirting when necessary. He's not above using whatever he has in his arsenal. “We're training for a triathlon.” Hotch watches in awe as the desk clerks melt under his soft gaze, his infectious smile. He would always invite them to join him, knowing they couldn't but hey, he really wouldn't have minded the company. There was always a tendril of something that felt a little like jealousy when Derek flirted with them and he thought maybe they'd come join the two of them after their shifts were over. He'd grown a little too attached to this time spent just the two of them.

The date on the calendar when it all came to an end was looming. He wasn't thinking too much about that right now, though, he just wanted to go swimming. They were supposed to meet up in the lobby ten minutes ago and he was panicked.

“Shit.” He was rifling through his go bag when Morgan appeared at his door, towel in hands and flip flops on his feet.

“I just hear Aaron Hotchner say a curse word?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. “What could possibly get you that riled up at this time of night?”

“I forgot something.” It's in the dryer, he knows that now. His swim shirt is in the damn dryer at home, and he...it's not a huge deal, it's just that he hasn't taken his shirt off in front of anyone but his doctor and Jessica in years now. Even Jack hasn't seen him, at least that he knows of. Not on purpose. Derek watches him panic and somehow he knows and shrugs like it's the most natural thing in the world.

“I'm not gonna be weird about it,” he says softly, approaching Hotch with renewed tenderness. Something he hasn't had cause to dust off in a while, but he falls into it easily. Hotch makes him want to be soft, makes him want to be gentle and put away the casual jokester for something gentle and real. He bares a part of himself he usually keeps hidden in the hopes that it will help Hotch do the same. “I promise. I don't pretend to know how it feels to walk around feeling the way you do, but I promise you I just wanna go jump in that pool and swim and I don't care what you wear or what you cover up to do it.”

Hotch regards him for a moment and nods. He really can't let this stand in his way, it would be insulting to Morgan on levels he couldn't even fathom. To think Morgan would even care is absurd. They're just scars, shimmering and smooth, silvery in places, deep purple in others where the knots never wore down, where the stitches and staples held him together too tight. Morgan never wears a shirt in the pool, but then he's perfect. Hotch is...well he's never been perfect, Foyet didn't really ruin anything, he just changed it. He's got plenty of scars that don't belong to Foyet, those are almost worse but he has to go. He has to trust Derek.

It's cold swimming without a shirt, that's the only thing Hotch really thinks about as he's working his way through the laps around the tiny bean shaped outdoor pool. Cars fly by on the highway, separated from them only by a chain-link fence, but it's midnight and they're nearly silent in the water. They have to do about a million laps in a pool this tiny but the breeze is nice and the moon is enormous, just a huge milky ball looming over them in a sea of stars. The street lamps barely touch where they swim, they'd asked the front desk to turn off the pool lights, they don't want an audience. They just want to swim.

Morgan thinks Hotch looks a little off, he usually looks energized and awake after a swim but something is wrong. He thinks it's the shirt thing, and he hates that...he hasn't even looked, he promised, but now he wonders if he's been trying too hard not to look. Making Hotch feel self-conscious or bad, that wasn't his intention. An idea flutters in the recesses of his mind and makes his heart thunder a little, he knows how to fix it. Doesn't even consider that it could backfire...it's going to work. He's never lacked confidence.

He dives beneath the water and kicks along the bottom of the pool, turning and heading upward like a torpedo right in front of Hotch who is leaning against the wall where he can barely touch. He's close, maybe too close, almost runs right into Hotch's knees before splashes Hotch when he comes up, landing chest to chest. Hotch is cold, covered in goosebumps, and Derek slips his arms around the sides of Hotch's waist, palms flat against the wall under the water. They're deep in a shadow, well beyond the reach of the moon's reflection and he smiles. Grins, really, almost like a shark.

It's just a kiss, chlorine flavored and cold. Hotch's teeth are chattering and Derek can't stop smiling. He knows this is dangerous, anyone could come out of their room and see if they wanted to but he doesn't care and the way that Hotch holds on to him and looks so incredibly content says maybe he doesn't either. Or he's cold enough that he can't think of anything else to do.

“No strings,” Morgan whispers at the suddenly strained look on Hotch's face. “No worries.”

(x)

He doesn't worry. For once, he doesn't. Sometimes they part with a kiss after a sweaty run or a long night in the pool. Not often after a bike ride, Morgan is never quite in the mood and Hotch finds that amusing. He doesn't mind the riding. More than once, while out of town for a case, a midnight run managed to turn into a coffee at sunrise.

There are no strings, they don't stay over, it's just easy. The team have given up trying to figure out the source of Hotch's sudden happiness, figuring if they ever needed to know they would. They were just glad to see him doing better, really. Penelope was pushing Morgan to give her details in her own way, but turning up nothing.

“Come on, you see him every day...hasn't he said anything at all?”

“Princess, it is not my business.” His smile is infuriating but she accepts it.

(x)

They are in separate starting waves, not really racing against each other directly but Hotch is keenly aware that he's trying to beat Derek's time. He has to, he's worked twice as hard to get to this place he figures and if he's going to make up for being slower it'll be on the bikes. He pushes as hard as he can, harder than he should, just to make sure he makes it to the finish line even seconds faster than Derek.

Morgan beats him by more than a minute, that damn stitch in his side coming back right at the end and slowing him down. He figures that it's not really surprising, at least he finished. As he stepped across the line, he began to scan the crowd for Derek, interested only in being near him. The crush of people pushing every direction, patting him on the shoulder and congratulating him for finishing so strong, was beginning to turn his stomach.

“Earth to Hotch,” Derek says, sliding up beside him, still panting himself. He directs Hotch in the direction of the medals and the swag table, ready to raid Hotch's bag for all the snacks he'd already mowed through himself. He could eat about eight more granola bars...Hotch could have the banana. Derek grabs as many waters as he can carry and dumps them on the ground in the little grassy area the team have set themselves up in, collapsing in a heap right there. Hotch stays standing, he knows his legs will never let him get back up if he sits now. His lungs are on fire but his smile is huge. Jack hugs him and exclaims that it's gross, he's so sweaty, while he makes pleasant small talk with the team, most of whom he can tell are hung over and wish they were in bed. He wouldn't mind being in bed himself. Might just decide to spend his afternoon there, in fact.

Morgan extends a hand to Hotch, pleading to be pulled back up to his feet after he's demolished everything but two bananas. He practically inhaled the food. His knees protest the motion loudly. Hotch just grins at him, eyelashes beaded with sweat. He looks just like he had when they were swimming, a little off but with a strange look of contentment that he knows is hiding something that's right on the tip of his tongue.

“What?” Morgan asks, pouring a bottle of water over the top of his head and dumping another down his throat. He remembers their first run and how he'd made fun of Hotch for being so spent, he wishes he could take it back now. He's simultaneously dying and starving, even after inhaling a bag of food. A few feet away Penelope floats the idea of brunch and his stomach rumbles at the tease. He's acutely aware that Rossi and Jack are plotting something quietly and he doesn't trust Rossi's smirk one bit. “What're you smiling about?”

“I was just thinking.” His tone is soft, slightly distracted but light. He sounds happy and Morgan thinks he looks...good. Really good. Healthy.

“Out with it, man.”

Hotch's smile fades for a moment as Jack shoots him an enthusiastic thumbs up, Rossi right behind him with a wink and a nod. They're only a few feet away but it's like a separate planet. He closes the distance between them with one purposeful step, he can't be as cool as Morgan was in the swimming pool, he doesn't have the cover of night or any cool moves but he does alright. They're a little too close to just be friendly now, and if the team noticed they didn't show it...most of them were too hungover to care much. Penelope looks over the top of her glasses, hums quietly to herself and nods.

“Now that the race is done, we're going to need something else to do. I was thinking dinner at my place, and...if you don't have anything else on your calendar, can you stay for the night?” It's probably the most awkward thing he's ever asked, he didn't even think he'd sounded so godawful when he asked Haley out for the first time...it didn't matter, not anymore. He'd said it, and now he had to wait out the shame.

Morgan's entire face spread into a delighted smile, and he wished they weren't surrounded on all sides by FBI employees and their families. His fingers twitch, he wants so badly to put both palms against Hotch's hips and drag him into a huge sweaty kiss. He'll have to settle for doing that later, at Hotch's place...in his bedroom. When he stays the night. “I thought you'd never ask.”