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ssa-dado · 2 months ago

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1 - Orchids & Knots

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: A young profiler, recently recruited by Jason Gideon, joins the BAU and works with experienced agents, including Hotch and Rossi, on a challenging case involving a methodical killer. Despite initial nervousness, you start to bond with Hotch through wit and shared work ethic, revealing unexpected personal sides along the intense investigation.

Warnings: Usual CM case described in detail, hideous use of one bedroom trope, Gissi implied as a joke

Word Count: 4.1k

Dado's Corner: first part of the upcoming series! Still have no clue of how many parts it could have, just expect a very slow burn. My other fic - Symposium (definitely not platonic love) - is part of the same universe, hence why reader is still a philosophy enthusiast. You can enjoy this pilot as its own or read it before or after Symposium. You do you. Again, I'm aware there might be some mistakes as English isn't my first language so bear with me.

part zero - reading optional, but strongly advised ; part two

Everyone who knew you had assumed you'd take an academic route in your professional life, perhaps becoming a professor or researcher, but something you couldn’t explain had always pulled you toward the darker corners of human behavior.

You weren't satisfied with just understanding the human mind, you wanted to see what happened when it broke.

Now, you were standing still on the elevator on your way to meet Jason Gideon, the legend who had recruited you after being impressed by your sharp mind during a lecture he held at the academy.

Maybe it was because of your passion to philosophy that made you a natural curious person, always asking – sometimes asking way too many – questions, never taking anything for granted.

After that lecture you understood that profiling was a subject that rewarded what many considered to be one of your most annoying flaws. Hence why another reason you probably decide to follow that specific path, out of all the others: you wanted to prove everyone wrong.

What many didn’t see though - and most of the times you didn’t even realise yourself - is that you questioned yourself and your decisions more than anything else. Although for once, trusting more your instincts rather than your reasoning to decide to work at the Bureau, somehow sweetly felt right.

“Y/N, right?” A deep voice cut through your thoughts. You turned to see Gideon standing beside a tall man, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit. His expression appeared stoic, yet his eyes - sharp and calculated - were the most striking feature about him, even more than the smoke coming from his ears as he was focusing all of his energies on you to read through your façade.

As you entered the barely lit bullpen, the weight of the moment hit you. The room was filled with agents, all seasoned professionals busy with their work, pouring over case files, dissecting behavioral patterns, and speaking in hushed tones about suspects and profiles. Their years of experience were palpable, but instead of shrinking, you felt a quiet resolve. You were aware you had something unique to offer - not to be cocky about it - and Gideon clearly thought so too, otherwise you wouldn’t be there.

You were trying your best to be as neutral as possible but you couldn’t deny you immediately felt a wave of adrenaline coursing through you. Knowing you were standing before one most formidable profilers the FBI had ever known and next to him the one you hypothesised to be the Bureau’s next rising star. There wouldn’t be any other plausible reasons for him to stand so close to Gideon otherwise, you thought.

“Yes, sir,” you responded, willing yourself to keep calm. Gideon had introduced you to the mystery man next to him – SSA Aaron Hotchner – or you-can-call-me-Hotch; For a moment you felt so uncool for not having a nickname yourself.

Hotch studied you further for a moment, his face unreadable, but you could tell he was intrigued. His nod was brief, but it felt like a form of acknowledgment.

Gideon smiled warmly. “Good to see you again, Y/N. I’ve been just telling Hotch here about your academic work, very impressive stuff. I’m sure the mix of philosophy, linguistics and psychology will give you quite of a unique lens for profiling.”

“Welcome to the team,” Hotch said simply, though his tone carried weight. With just a sentence he made sure to remind you that you weren’t just another recruit, you were expected to contribute. You hoped his remark would just point out at the overall high expectations everyone had of you, instead of him questioning your presence here due to your young age, less than a week passed from your 21st birthday.

"Thank you," you said, trying to balance out with professionalism. "I’m eager to get started."

Gideon gestured for you to follow him. "Come on, there’s someone else I want you to meet. David Rossi."

Your heart raced. David Rossi, the legend who had co-founded the BAU with the man standing next to you. The picture of you working with him felt surreal. As you, Hotch, and Gideon made your way to Rossi’s office, you could feel Hotch’s eyes still occasionally flicking toward you, still assessing, still quiet. His silence felt deliberate, as though he wanted to see how you carried yourself before making any judgments.

When you entered Rossi’s office, he looked up from his desk, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His presence was formidable, the kind of aura that came from decades of experience. For a brief moment, you felt like he was already profiling you, dissecting every nuance of your appearance and demeanor. Then, his face broke into a bright grin, and he stood, extending his hand.

"So, you’re the philosophy kid," Rossi said, his voice gruff but warm. "Gideon’s been talking your ear off about you."

Philosophy kid, as if you didn’t feel odd enough.

You shook his hand. "That’s me. Nice to meet you, Agent Rossi."

You smiled at that, already feeling some of the tension ebbing away in his presence. There was something about Rossi’s bluntness that was oddly reassuring. He was a man who spoke his mind, no pretense, no games.

"Dave," he corrected, flashing a grin. "‘Agent Rossi’ makes me sound like I could be your nonno. You can call me Dave."

"So, Gideon tells me you speak sixteen languages?" Rossi asked, raising an eyebrow. "How come? Ever consider becoming a spy?"

"Bisnonno" He quickly grinned, you had just entered his office and already flexing your Italian, he teased you first though. "Got it, Dave.". If there would have been one thing you had learnt throughout the brief 2 minutes you’ve been working at the BAU, is that profilers were no joke about their nicknames.

You laughed softly. "I was raised in a bilingual household, I have a thing for languages"

Hotch, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke. "It’ll definitely come in handy in the field. We deal with a lot of international cases."

His voice was calm, measured. Although you had read his file; Hotch wasn’t just any profiler - he was methodical, relentless, and someone who had climbed the ranks through sheer dedication. His seriousness wasn’t arrogance, but a reflection of his deep commitment to the job.

Rossi leaned back slightly, his eyes now flicking over your outfit, your well-fitted total black three-piece suit. “I’ll say, I didn’t expect someone at 21 to show up looking more polished than half of the bureau. You sure you’re not here to give a lecture?”

You chuckled, feeling some of the tension melt away. "This is just my definition of business casual”

Gideon smiled but quickly shifted back to business. “I brought the two of you here in Dave’s office because we just got a tough case” He says gesturing towards you and Hotch “And I want all of us to be working together in on it”.

Rossi laughed, clearly enjoying your response. "Gideon, I think you found someone who might out-dress me."

Normally at the BAU they would either work solo or in pairs, sometimes they would even assest the case from the comfort of their own desk there in Quantico, if travelling was not deemed crucial to build the profile. Only when crime would be particularly complex, they would quicky assemble a team, a small task-force of sorts, take their go-bag with them and travel all across the country struggling more with the train connections rather than with the criminals themselves.

You ironically told yourself that there wouldn’t be a much better start on your new job, your heart raced with anticipation. "What’s the case?" You asked trying to mask the slight feeling of anxiety rushing through your veins.

In a matter of seconds, Gideon quicky exited the office and had already came back firmy holding a bunch of manila folders. He handed you a thick case file, and as you flipped through it, your stomach slightly churned, reminding you this wasn’t these weren’t just pictures on your textbooks.

The unsub had left seven bodies in three states, all bound with intricate knots, posed in ritualistic displays. Each victim had an orchid placed delicately on their chest, and despite the grotesque nature of the crimes, you found there was an eerie beauty in how the unsub treated his victims.

"The knots," Gideon explained, pointing to a photograph. "They’re not random. Each one is different, and each one requires a high level of skill. The unsub is precise, organized, and deliberate. He’s treating these murders like a performance."

These killings to you were manifest of the deeply rooted paradox in human experience - beauty and pain - where both often coexist or follow each other closely. You always found amusing how beauty, whether in art, nature, or human life, often emergeed through struggle or suffering.

You looked closely at the images, analyzing the intricacies of the knots, you feel the need to add something else. "It’s not just performance - it’s communication. The knots are sending a message. He’s not killing out of anger. There’s patience here. He wants control, and the orchids, those suggest he sees the victims as fragile, beautiful objects to be perfected, but ultimately destroyed."

Even historically, humankind tended to these opposites because they reflect the full range of life’s complexities, as joy often emerges from pain, and suffering can heighten the appreciation of beauty. You kept the philosophical monologue to yourself, you definitely didn’t want to reinforce even more the prejudice your teammates could already have on you, the lack of field expertise overly compensated by the knowledge of human nature.

Hotch leaned forward, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. "He’s someone with discipline, military or maybe maritime experience. The variety of knots points to a deeper knowledge of how they work. He’s not just tying them for show. He’s someone who understands the function of every twist and turn."

Rossi smiled at your analysis, clearly impressed. "Not bad. Not bad at all, philosopher. " You now started to suspect Gideon had overly gushed about this particular part of your background as it seemed to be the only thing your new co-workers remembered about you.

You nodded, your mind racing. "And the orchids, they aren’t just decorative. He’s choosing them for a reason. Orchids are notoriously difficult to grow. They’re delicate but require meticulous care, which suggests he sees himself as a cultivator. He picks his victims carefully, like someone choosing a rare flower, and when they don’t live up to his standards, he... prunes them."

The team continued to build the profile, each member adding layers of complexity. The unsub’s background became clearer: someone with a need for control, a perfectionist likely with some connection to floristry or horticulture. You felt a growing sense of camaraderie as you offered ideas and bounced theories off Hotch, who slowly began engaging with you more directly.

“They do act like an old married couple” Hotch hums in a low voice while pointing at Rossi and Gideon vividly arguing far away from the two of you about something you couldn’t grasp yet. You immediately chuckle at the sight, appreciating Hotch’s efforts to bond with you yet still being very reserved and shielding himself through his rare jokes.

A few days into the investigation, you found yourself paired with Hotch all the times, a tactic you knew Gideon pulled just to make you feel the most at ease, despite the overly reserved nature of your partner.

He continued, “See, they might made you think the fraternization rules exist because of Dave, what they didn’t tell you is that he’s probably secretly married with Gideon and apparently the latter today forgot about their anniversary”. You tried your best not to burst into laughing as the Italian man furiously walked towards the two of you, Gideon quick on his feet following him with an apologetic look on his face. Damn, Hotch might have been right, the similarities in the physical language to the scenario he previously mentioned was uncanny.

“The Bureau changed our accommodation, again.” Gideon sighed “They’ll soon send us the address, we have two rooms, two twin beds each, private bathroom” He ironically emphasised the last part, as if he was offering all of you the deal of your life.

“Budget cut again kiddos” Dave announced, oblivious of the reason why both of yours and Hotch's eyes were almost tearing up trying to hold in the laughters.

“Hood rats.” Rossi flamboyantly replied “So here’s another reason to end this case as soon as possible. Figli di puttana, There's no way I'm sleeping more with Jason rather than with my own wife”. Both you and Hotch gave each other a quick mischievous side-eye that could speak more than a thousand words. As the two of them moved away from you and Hotch enough so they wouldn’t hear your next words, you turned towards him. “Dave didn’t even offer us to sleep with him in his room, you actually might have been right all along”.

“I’m always right” He replied showing the dimples on his face.

“Typical lawyer behaviour, gaslighting their way just to be right in their own distorted reality.” You poke fun at him as you reminded he told you he used to work as a persecutor before landing into the Bureau.

Hotch definitely didn’t expect such a quick-witted comeback from you. “I wasn’t aware philosophers knew humor” he teased you.

“We patented it” you smirk.

You and Hotch later surveyed a potential crime scene—a floral shop the unsub had likely visited. As you both examined the area, you could feel Hotch's eyes on you, observing how you worked, how you processed information.

"You’re picking up on a lot for your first case," Hotch said, breaking the silence. "Most people miss the smaller details."

You looked over at him, surprised by the sudden compliment. "Thanks. I guess looking at things in an unorthodox way helps, all the hours spent on Plato apparently paid off"

Hotch nodded. "It shows. Keep it up."

Together, you reviewed the evidence, each of you adding to the emerging profile. You and Hotch began to form a pattern: he’d focus on the precision of the unsub’s actions, while you offered a more abstract perspective, thinking about the emotional motivations behind the crimes.

Later that evening, after a long day of chasing leads and trying to make sense of the tangled web the unsub had woven, you all finally were set into the new accommodation.

Despite Rossi’s earlier complaints about the budget cuts, the place wasn’t that bad - it was modest but clean, with enough space to spread out the case files and work. You and Hotch were indeed been paired up to share a room, as he previously predicted, with two twin beds crammed into a space that would feel much smaller once your notes and case materials were scattered all across the floor.

As soon as you entered the room, Hotch moved with military precision, setting down his go-bag and immediately pulling out a file. He glanced around briefly, as if taking in every detail of the room in a split second, then sat down at the small desk, already deep in thought.

You, on the other hand, sat on the edge of your bed for a moment, looking around and trying to shake off the fatigue that was creeping in. It was only your first case, and yet you felt the pressure building already - both from the weight of the crimes and from wanting to prove yourself in front of someone as formidable as Hotch. Despite the intensity of the case, you couldn’t help but be amused at the situation.

“So, do you believe their honeymoon suite is just as romantic as ours?” You asked with a smirk, hoping to lighten the mood.

Hotch didn’t look up immediately, as if puzzled on how to choose his next words, though you caught the slight twitch of his lips. “Yeah, nothing says romance like crime scene photos and case files scattered everywhere.”

You chuckled and tossed your jacket onto the back of a chair. “I always knew the FBI had a weird way of doing things, but I have to admit this is next level.”

As you pulled out the case file, flipping through the pages and studying the photos, you found it hard to concentrate, mostly because of how quiet the room turned out to become. Hotch was the kind of person whose silence seemed louder than most people’s conversations, and though you could tell he was intensely focused on the case, you sensed that he was also observing you – amazed at how it was the first time he ever saw someone overworking themselves as much as he did.

Breaking the silence, you threw a glance at him. “You ever wonder what makes someone do this? I mean, it’s one thing to read about it in a textbook, but seeing it in person…”

Hotch set his pen down and leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze fixed on you. “Every time. You get used to it, but it never really stops affecting you.”

You nodded, taking that in. “It’s just so… deliberate. Every little detail, like the knots, the orchids, it’s like he’s creating something, not just destroying.”

Hotch’s eyes narrowed in thought, clearly impressed by your analysis. “That’s an interesting perspective. Most people would only see the destruction.”

“You know,” you said, leaning back on the bed, wanting to return the subtle compliment “when I first joined the academy, I never thought I’d end up here, sitting in a hotel room with one of the newest best profilers in the country.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Flattery, huh? Didn’t think philosophers believed in that.”

You grinned. “We don’t, but I make exceptions.”

He gave you another small smile, his guard dropping just a little. “Well, I didn’t expect to be working with a 21-year-old who can hold their own on a case like this.”

“I’ve got to keep up with all of you somehow.”

Hotch shook his head slightly, still smiling. “You’re doing more than keeping up, but I’ve already told you this.”

The next morning, while poring over the case, both you and Hotch hit on the idea that the unsub might escalate soon. "He’s been meticulous so far, but there’s a growing desperation in the pattern," you observed. "He’s becoming bolder with each kill, taking greater risks. If he feels like he’s not getting the recognition he craves, he might go after a more high-profile victim."

Hotch considered this, his brow furrowing. "Someone in the public eye. He’d want an audience for his ‘art.’ We should look into upcoming events where he might strike."

Later, Gideon walked into the room with a look that told you something big had just clicked into place. "We’ve got a break," he said, laying down a new set of photographs. They were taken at a local orchid show, a high-profile event that had been held recently. "We missed it before because the show was a private event, members only. But one of the attendees matched the profile. His name is Matthew Carson, a former Navy sailor turned horticulturist."

You leaned over the photos, seeing the man for the first time. Carson was in his mid-thirties, tall, with an air of quiet control about him. "That explains the knots," you said. "He would’ve learned that skill in the Navy. And the flowers - he’s obsessed with perfection, cultivating these delicate orchids. It fits with how he views his victims."

Hotch nodded, already processing the next steps. "We need to move fast. He’s going to escalate, and the orchid show gives him an audience: a high-profile victim pool. He’ll want to make his statement soon."

The team sprang into action, coordinating with local authorities to track Carson down. You, Hotch, Rossi, and Gideon prepared to approach his house, a sprawling property on the outskirts of town, where Carson ran his own private orchid nursery.

As the team closed in, your heart pounded with anticipation. Carson’s house was an eerie reflection of his mind: immaculate, but with an unsettling coldness, orchids lined the windowsills and filled every room with their fragile beauty. It was a place of quiet obsession.

Rossi was the first to spot Carson. The man was in the greenhouse, meticulously pruning an orchid, completely unaware of the FBI’s presence. Hotch signaled for you to stay back as he and Rossi approached cautiously.

"Matthew Carson," Hotch called, his voice steady but firm.

Carson didn’t flinch. He continued trimming the orchid as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "You don’t understand," he said quietly, his voice calm but laced with underlying madness. "It’s about perfection. I’m creating something beautiful."

Hotch took a step closer. "You’re hurting people, Matthew. This isn’t beauty, it’s destruction."

Carson finally looked up, his eyes hollow yet intense. "They weren’t good enough. The flowers... they have to be perfect."

You could feel the tension in the air while Hotch was doing what he did best, calmly, methodically drawing Carson out, understanding his twisted mind.

"They’re not flowers, Matthew. They’re people," You said as Hotch took another step closer. You continued "You’re not creating beauty. You’re trying to control what you can’t, but perfection doesn’t exist."

Carson’s grip tightened on the shears in his hand, his knuckles turning white. "I can make it exist," he whispered.

Before he could act, Rossi moved swiftly, disarming Carson and pinning him to the ground, he struggled briefly but then went limp, as if the fight had left him entirely. The unsub’s calm shattered, and in that moment, you saw the deep fragility that had driven his madness.

"You think you understand, but you don’t," Carson muttered as he was handcuffed. "I was so close."

As Gideon secured Carson, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The case was over, but the weight of it still lingered but before you could start overthinking, you felt a hand on top of your left shoulder. Your heart skips a beat and you quickly turn around to what revealed to be Hotch “Good job on the case, partner” You shyly smile “Not so bad as your first case at all”

“I could say the same about you, especially on the way you handled Carson, but I bet someone like you is used to the myriad of compliments at this point.”

He rolled his eyes, then quickly moved towards Rossi before you could notice the smile tugged on his face - too late – you could see his dimples still showing even when he was far away from you.

Later, on the train ride back to Quantico, you and Hotch found yourselves sitting across from each other. The case had drained everyone, you glanced at Hotch, who was staring out the window, lost in thought.

"So," you said, breaking the silence, curious to know something real about the man you shared a room with for the past two days "now that the case is over, are you going to admit that you do something other than work? Or is profiling literally your only hobby?"

Hotch turned to you, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," you said with a grin, "You must have to do something outside of this. You can't just spend all your downtime preparing for the next criminal mastermind, or developing conspiracy theories" His eyes went to his side, inviting you to glance at the older profilers. Rossi was conveniently standing up from his seat and leaning in front of Gideon, showing him something on a case file while simultaneously tracing small circles with the back of his pen on the papers the other was holding.

He gave you small smirk, his eyes twinkling with just a hint of mischief, then out of the blue he blurts out “I play the guitar."

You blinked, caught off guard. "You play the guitar?! Seriously?"

Hotch nodded, his expression casual, though you could tell he was enjoying your surprise. "Yeah. It’s something I picked up in college. Helps me unwind."

"Wait, wait, wait," you said, holding up a hand. "Aaron Hotchner, stoic, no-nonsense FBI agent extraordinaire, plays the guitar? I need proof. This sounds like a bluff."

He chuckled, the sound rare but genuine. "I don’t think I need to prove anything to you."

You leaned back in your seat, resting one hand on your forehead. "Unbelievable. I was so sure you didn’t have a hobby. I mean, by the way you work, I was starting to think someone else in the Bureau was keeping another big secret from us, C3-PO"

The unexpected Star Wars reference earned you a genuine laugh from him, then shook his head, a small smile still playing on his lips. "Just because I’m focused on the job doesn’t mean I don’t have other interests."

"Okay, fair enough," you admitted. "But now I’m really curious. What kind of music do you play? Classical? Rock? Please tell me it’s something totally unexpected, like heavy metal."

He laughed again, a sound you were quickly becoming fond of. "Mostly blues, actually."

You stared at him, wide-eyed. "Blues? Wow, that’s... I don’t know, I guess I expected you to say something like jazz or folk, but blues? That’s kind of badass."

Hotch gave a modest shrug. "It’s calming. Helps me think."

"I’m still wrapping my head around this," you said with a smirk. "I’m going to need to hear you play one day. Otherwise, I’m sticking with my theory that you’re secretly a robot who plays FBI agent."

He gave you a side-eye but couldn’t suppress his smile. "I’ll think about it, maybe after the next case if you’re still around"

You pretended to be offended by his words "Is this a threat?!”

“I was just trying to be encouraging”

Maybe working at the BAU wouldn’t be as intimidating as you first thought after all.

As the train rumbled on, you felt a sense of camaraderie with Hotch, a shared respect that had grown over the course of the case. You had proven yourself, and in return, he had let you see a side of him that few people probably ever did.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #jason gideon #david rossi

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

Note

Can you do one where hotch has a quiet reader in bed but its not bc the reader doesnt like it, the reader doesn’t think hotch wouod like the noise bc their ex didnt?

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Aaron hasn't had many partners, but they've never complained before. So he's not arrogant about himself or his technique, but he's never had a reason to be self-conscious, either, until now.

You're not making any noise. Your face is moving, you're reacting to his movements, you're arching your back slightly and gripping the sheets, but you haven't made a single sound. That can't be good, can it?

Aaron watches you bite your lip, and he can't tell if you've muffled a moan or a groan. One means pleasure, the other means pain. He stops just to be safe, slowing his pace and kissing lightly at your cheek.

"Honey," He hums, nudging his nose into the bridge of your own, "Are you okay?"

You nod, voice kicking up in a mumble, "Yeah. Yeah, Aaron, this is nice."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," Your brow dips into a bleary frown, your eyes confused, "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You're just quiet," He hums, pressing another reassuring kiss to your skin, "That's all."

"Oh." Your frown only deepens, and you stroke an absentminded finger over his shoulder while he hovers above you, "I thought men liked that."

"What, silence?"

"Yeah," You nod, "I- I thought that it was wrong to make noise, like- like, annoying or something."

Aaron's face scrunches into a cartoonish grimace, "Who told you that?"

His expression is funny even if it's sincere.

You laugh, reaching up to smooth out the furrow of his brows, "An ex-boyfriend. I just thought it was normal, I dunno. But you- you want me to make noise?"

"I do," Aaron nods, humming as he dips his nose below your chin. He kisses at your throat and he feels you stiffen under him, just the reaction he needs to keep going.

"Tell me, sweetheart," He croons, lips dotting along your neck, "How does this feel? Good?"

"Mhm," You nod, voice held tight but quivering at the end, "Yeah it feels- it feels really nice."

"I think you should tell me more," He muses, parting his lips to suck softly at a patch of skin just above your collarbones, "I wanna hear you." He breathes, eliciting what must be the softest whine in the world from your throat, "Tell me everything."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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cyberkitty1 · 1 year ago

Text

pt 2/2 of the crybaby reader x earth42 Miles Morales

MAJOR MAJOR spoilers!! read with caution.

i said tomorrow night but I worked my butt off to get it done today!!

Aaron makes his way to Miles and room not even bothering to knock, I mean why would he? He just watched his nephew make his own girlfriend who would do anything for him cry. He was beyond furious.

“So now we are just going around making people cry?” Miles smirks at him “man I am literally the prowler? all i make people do is cry and beg for their life” he says almost laughing.

Aaron sighs pinching the bridge of his nose.” you are not supposed to let your job interfere with your normal life, you know that. Now you’re chasing your girl, the girl your supposed to love away? are you serious?”

Miles looks at him annoyed “ why wouls you care all she ever does is cry, shes happy she cries, shes mad she cries, shes sad she cries, man even when shes bored she cries. its annoying” he says holding his face in his hands.

Aaron walks to the bed and sits next to him. He’s never been put in this situation so he doesn’t know what to say. “ you’re dad was a lot better doing this than i ever was.” Miles visibly stiffens, this was the first time he’s brought up his dad since his funeral.

“ Miles I know you have been through a lot, more then i ever will but that doesn’t give you a reason to act that way towards her, she only wants whats best for you and she loves you with everything shes got. I would kill for a person like that to be in my life. I know you reacted like this because you feel you don’t have anyone to talk to but i’m always here man you know this.”

He wrapped an arm around his shoulder.” So don’t be taken your anger out on your girl she just loves you ok?” Miles sighs realizing, he was way to harsh in you you shouldn’t have been ignoring you and now he feels like a fool.

“ Yea, ill talk to her tomorrow” Aaron smiles, “ good I don’t need the only person who can get you to open up gone, now do i?” he says laughing a bit.

* Next Morning *

You didnt get a wink of sleep that night you where thinking about all the things you could have done to upset him that much. You werent mad just confused, confused as to why he would react that way. Of course you will still love him but this still hurt.

You were lost in thought when you realize someone texted you, it was Miles? You wasted no time to open it.

miles. can you come over later today?

you. yea

miles. dress comfortable

you were nervous, was he breaking up with you? You had no idea what to expect with how you guys left everything yesterday there was many directions this could go.

Hours later ( im lazy )

You got ready and made your way over to his place. Knocking on the door he answered “hola cariño ven conmigo” he helped you in with a warm smile taking your hand. Shutting the door behind you he led you into his bedroom sitting you down on his bed. He stood looking at you kind of nervous? he started:

“Voy a decir esto en español para que todo salga bien. Te amo mucho y siento mucho haberte tratado de una manera que nunca te mereces. Lamento haberte hecho llorar y haberte hecho sentir que hiciste algo mal. Todo lo que haces es amarme y tratarme bien, pero yo te traté como si no me importara. Y por eso lo siento mucho y espero que lo encuentres en tu corazón para perdonarme.”

(I'm going to say this in Spanish so that everything goes well. I love you very much and I am so sorry that I treated you in a way that you never deserve. I'm sorry I made you cry and made you feel like you did something wrong. All you do is love me and treat me right, but I treated you like I didn't care. And for that I am very sorry and I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive me.)

You waited and listened to him through and through and when he was done you spoke. “ Miles I will forever love you, you know that. I know that you are going through something but why didn’t you tell me? why don’t you talk to me? why wont you let me in?” you said holding his hands.

“No quería que pensaras menos en mí, que me consideraras débil.” You look at him sympathetically “ Miles I would never, never ever think of you as weak ok? Whenever you need me I will be there with you, I love you miles so much.” and with that, you were crying.

(“I didn't want you to think less of me, to consider me weak.”)

“mi princesa por favor no llores odio cuando lloras” he said wiping your tears away “ I know and i’m sorry that i’m always crying about everything i know it annoys you” you say sniffling. He feeling you pulling at his heart strings, feeling the worse he has felt since his father’s passing.

("My princess please don't cry I hate when you cry"’)

“ahora me tienes a punto de llorar mami, te quiero mucho y me arrepiento de haberte dicho que te encontré una llorona. Nunca debí haberte dicho eso, eres mi todo, ¿lo sabías? Debería disculparme contigo, lamento haberte tratado de esa manera, ¿me perdonarías?” He said with tears in his eyes.

(“Now you have me about to cry mommy, I love you very much and I regret having told you that I found you a crybaby. I never should have told you that, you are my everything, you know that? I should apologize to you, I'm sorry I treated you that way, would you forgive me?")

You held his face looking into his eyes with so much adoration. “ Miles I will forever love you, I forgive you, I will forgive you ten times over.” You said resting your head on his. After a few minutes he wipes his tears saying “ I forgot I wanted you to watch a movie with me if you forgave me.” You smile at him giving him a kiss.

“ Thank you Miles,i appreciate it all.” he sighs “ Ma, stop saying stuff like that I need to be saying sorry to you” he says looking you in your eyes.

And with that he sits on his bed back against the headboard with you tucked into his side, eating snacks and watching your favorite movies.

( this or this )

He suddenly turns to you and says “te amo mas que la cantidad de estrellas en el cielo” he says looking into your eyes. You turn to him resting your hand ok his face, hearing your voice that sounds like honey.

("I love you more than the number of stars in the sky")

“yo tambien te amo mi principe”

( "I love you too my prince")

Part 3 of the earth 42 Miles spoiling you will be done as soon as I can 🙏🏾

A/n: overlook the fact that i spelt honey as hunny 😔 ( its changed now)

#earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #fluff #atsv x reader #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales #miles morales x reader #i hope you like it #i really tried #comfort #angst #fluffy

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pyro-les · 8 months ago

Text

It's a blessing and it's a curse part 2

Regina George x reader

Slowly walking towards Cady's locker Janis and Damian pester Cady about Regina and the plastics. "So,what have you found out? Any secrets we can use to destroy Regina?" Janis asks excitedly honestly concerning Cady.

"I don't understand why you hate her so much, she honestly seems kind of sweet" Cady responds.

"Ha yeah sure Regina George the sweetest girl in Northshore. She's well known for her outstanding generosity and kindness." Janis says sarcastically.

"Yeah like Regina would ever be sweet, I don't even think she knows what that means" Damian adds on.

"You guys are way too harsh, I think she might just be misunderstood. Have you ever actually talked to her?" Cady asks as she stops next to her locker.

Damian shakes his head before saying "Yeah Janis and her used to-".

"That's not important! What's important is that Regina is a life ruiner," Janis cuts him off harshly.

"Okayyyy" Cady draws out before looking around seeing Regina walk past with the other plastics and then a bit behind them is Y/N with her headphones in. "Hey, Y/N!" Cady calls her over.

Looking around slowly Y/N sees Cady realising it was her that called her she walked towards them after sparing a brief glance back at Regina who briefly locked eyes with her in a silent conversation before turning back to Karen as if nothing happened. "Hi." Y/N said as she approached Cady.

"Hey girl" Damian greets shortly followed by Janis saying "I didn't know you two were friends."

A brief moment of silence as a small look of fear flashed across Cady's face rembering she wasn't supposed to mention that Y/N was with Regina. Luckily Y/N improvised and said "Oh yeah we actually live pretty close to each other. I met Cady when she first moved in.".

"Yeah!" Cady said a bit too enthusiastically before adding on " my mum made us introduce ourselves to some of pur neighbours when we first moved in." Janis slowly narrowed her eyes before shrugging seemingly believing the lie.

"Anyway what are you guys talking about?" Y/N asked as Cady started to shift through her locker.

"Just how annoying Regina is." Janis states casually causing Y/N to frown a bit.

"Oh stop looking like that we all know you're like in love with her but you really need to realise how much of a bitch she is." Janis says seeing Y/N's reaction.

"Hey I never said that!" Y/N tries to complain.

"Honey, you're always looking at her with a stupid lovestruck look on you're face." Damian says patting her on the shoulder.

Sighing Y/N just says "I literally have one class with you guys how do you even know that?".

"Because its painfully obvious." Janis responds. "I'm sorry but you do know that it'll never happen right?".

"Exactly, Janis is right. It will never happen but its okay because you wouldn't want to date someone as awful as Regina. You deserve way better." Damian agrees.

Cady continues to quietly sort out the books in the locker not really knowing whether Y/N would want her in the conversation or not.

Hearing her phone buzz Y/N looks down to it quickly before saying "I'm really sorry guys I gotta go rehearse. See you later." She then hurried off responding to Regina's message asking if Cady had said anything to Janis and Damian. While walking away she heard Damian telling Cady that she should wear the heels in her locker to impress Aaron.

~~~~

Walking into the cafeteria Cady sees the plastics at their usual table, Gretchen and Karen were happily discussing aomething with Regina chipping in every now and then but mainly looking down at her phone. "How are you guys?" Cady asks cheerily once she gets to the table.

"I'm bored. Let's do something fun! Oh we could go get icecream!" Karen says excitedly causing the other girls to chuckle a bit.

"Karen, we're at school." Gretchen says making Karen frown a bit. "It's ok though, you and me can go get icecream afterwards.".

"What about you Regina?" Cady asks.

"Hmm? Oh yeah I'm pretty good." Regina says after a moment

"That's just because you had a free period to do whatever you want in. Unlike us who had maths." Gretchen says with a sigh.

"Ooo lucky. What did you do?" Cady asks excitedly.

"I went to the theatre." Regina replies simply.

Cady smiles and says "Oh I didn't know you liked theatre."

"She doesn't that much. She does like a certain actor though." Gretchen says with a light smirk.

"Oooo who is it? Can I guess?" Karen asks excitedly who along with Cady looks over to Regina waiting for an answer.

Sighing Regina says "really guys?" Cady looks confused for a moment before looking around then leaning In whispering "wait do you mean Y/N?".

"Bingo." Regina says as Karen gasps seemingly shocked by the information she already knew.

"Cool. I saw her earlier." Cady responds with a small smile.

"I know" Regina replies.

After a small moment of thought Cady says "How? We're in school."

"I went to the theatre." Regina responds like it's obvious.

"Oh. Was no one else there?" Cady asks.

"Nope. No one goes to the theatre unless they're scheduled to be there." Regina says before adding on "exept Y/N of course. She likes to go there to rehearse."

"And you like to watch her rehearse." Gretchen adds on cheekily making Karen and Cady laugh Regina however just glares at Gretchen who shrugs and says "I'm not wrong." Cady finds it ironic how anyone else in the school would be running away scared from her but Gretchen and Karen just joke around with Regina.

"Hey" everyone turns to look at Aaron who had just walked up to the table everyone looks annoyed except cady who smiles brightly at him making Regina look at her in confusion.

"What are you doing here?" Regina asks harshly.

"I came here to ask if Cady took any notes in class earlier." At the mention of her name Cady smiles brightly before nodding and starting to rummage through her bag to grab her notebook. "So Regina, are you free tonight?" Aaron asks after taking a photo of Cady's notes.

"No, I'm not and even if I were I wouldn't spend my night with you." Regina responds with a sigh earning some ooos from Aaron's friends who had been listening in.

Not knowing what to say to Regina Aaron just turns to Cady and says "thanks for the notes." Before walking off leaving a dejected Cady with the plastics.

"You like him." Regina says plainly as Gretchen and Karen nod.

"What no I don't!" She says defensively earning a look of disappointment from Regina. "Okay yeah fine, I do." Cady says quietly.

"There you go. There's no need to lie about it." Regina says with a smile.

"But he clearly likes you! I mean he just asked you out." Cady says solemnly.

"Who doesn't? He's just a dumb boy, he doesn't really like me he just thinks I'm hot." Regina says clearly fed up. "If you actually talk to him he'll love you for you're personality I stead of just liking me for ny looks."

Cady shrugs so Regina continues "come on Cady,just talk to him. It would be good for both of us,you would get to date him and I'd have him off my back."

"I'll think about it."

****

A/N: here it finally is, sorry for the super long wait I've been really busy lately. I know there's not really any Regina and R interaction this chapter but I promise it's coming I'm just trying to build the story for now because I have some really cool ideas for later.

Also I'm gunna be honest don't know how to link the previous chapter with words instead of the full link but if you go onto the it's a blessing and it's a curse tag it should come up:)

Anyway hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged in the next part:)

Taglist: @l1lass

#regina george x reader #Reneé Rapp x reader #mean girls musical #mean girls #reneé rapp #regina george #it's a blessing and it's a curse #regina george x fem reader

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hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds · 1 year ago

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Hi! Hope your doing well!

I wanted to know if I could do a request with David Rossi? He has a daughter who has a higher IQ than Reid (it’s like 190 or 200?) has following in her father‘s footsteps and is high up in the FBI like higher than Strauss and he calls her down for a favor because Strauss is bothering Aaron and the team so she’s cracks down on Strauss and stuff?

David Rossi X Daughter Reader

Request: I wanted to know if I could do a request with David Rossi? He has a daughter who has a higher IQ than Reid (it’s like 190 or 200?) has following in her father‘s footsteps and is high up in the FBI like higher than Strauss and he calls her down for a favor because Strauss is bothering Aaron and the team so she’s cracks down on Strauss and stuff?

Third person pov...

Y/N Rossi was in her office in Quantico, she was in thr FBI, she had worked hard and was in a high position within it, Only being 18 she was making a good life of herself with an IQ of 200, it was a normal day she was in her office going over some files when she gets a call.

Wondering who was calling her she picks up. "Agent Rossi speaking" she answers, for work she uses 'Agent' as its easier. "Well hello Agent, this is your padre talking" come her Dad voice, this makes the adult laugh.

"papà non si era accorto che eri tu (1) "she laughs, the man chuckles lightly, she puts down her pen and spins around in her chair.

She looks out the window, her office being on one of the highest floors, a couple below the leader of the FBI. "allora perché chiami, c'è qualcosa che non va? (2) " she asks getting straight into business.

The man sighs wearly before answering

"It's Erin figlia (3) she going after Aaron and the tea. Again, can you do anything?" He askes, the man has just lost his wife a couple months ago.

Struass is pushing the man to leave the BAU, Y/N sighs once again Struass, the woman never knows when to shut up. "I'll see what I can do Papà (4) see you soom" she says, Rossi sighs he sounds less stressed out.

"Thank you piccolo" he says, Y/N sighs ans rubs her forehead looks like she's going to take a trip down to the BAUs floor tomorrow.

The next morning...

Strauss was taking over the case once again, the team gathered around the table, all with sullen looks as Struass looked around.

They were missing one person. "Has Agent Rossi not arrive yet?" She asks the silent room, even the evert rambling Spencer Reid didn't feel like talking to her.

Growing annoyed she goes to talk when a commotion starts in the bullpen, hearing it the team and Strauss stand up and walk out of the room, they are shocked to see Rossi standing with Agent Y/N F/N, one of the only Agents with ties to the chief of the Bureau.

"What is the meaning of this!" Exclaims Strauss, this made Y/N look at the woman, a glare on her young face. He the looks at her Dad. "I guess that's Struass" he says, the man nods his head.

Y/N cracks her knuckles. "You know Struass if you paid more attention to ypur family than this family then maybe you wouldn't be hated as much" she says, this earns her gasps of shock from around the bullpen.

Struass opens her mouth to retort but the H/C girl is quick with more. "You better leave this team alone unless you want a certain fact of yours to come into conversation" Y/Ns ruthless.

Eventually Struass has enough andeaves the bullpen fuming with anger, Y/N smirks at the woman, She gets a smile of thanks from her Dad.

After everyone calms down Y/N gets to meet her Dad team. She looks at Hotch and waves. "Hello Uncle Aaron" she smiles.

The others stare at their boss in shock. "You know her!" Exclaims Derek and Emily, Hotch just gives them a look. "Of course he knows me !" Smiles Y/N.

Rossi soon saves the team from confusion, as he wraps an arm around his daughter pulling her in for a hug and kisses her forehead. "lavoro assolutamente meraviglioso, piccola, hai bruciato quella strega (5) "He says in Italian.

"What how do you know her!" Yells Penelope, the team stare at the two, wondering how close they were, looking at her Dad Y/N laughs.

"You haven't told them about me" she accuses making the old man blushes embarrassed.

Pulling away her him Y/N straightens her suit of before talking, she looks around at the team smiling. "Nice to meet you all I'm Y/N Rossi, F/N is my Mothers last name, I use it so Papà and I are safe from people who wish to kill me or hurt him to get to me." She explains.

Everyone takes the nes well and welcomes Y/N into the family, they all thank her for what she did, Derek and Emily loving how she black mailed Struass into finally leaving them alone.

"It was no problem, Papà called about the old witch, of course I had to help him out"she says, Reid was surprised to meet someone who had a higher IQ than him but was happy when she actually listened to his ramblings about anything and could actually keep up with him.

As the day was coming to an end the team had gone home, apart from two,

Y/N and her Dad, the woman was waiting for him to finish up, once he was done the two walk to bus car.

"Thank you again piccolo, we couldn't of done it without you" he confessed. Y/n hugged the man, "it was nothing Papà, you can pay me back by cooking your famous pasta for dinner" she bargained.

This man the man laugh, of course as always she speaks with her stomache. "Pasta it is piccolo!" He announces making the girl laugh.

The end!

Italian translation

(1)

papà non si era accorto che eri tu - Dad didn't realize it was you

(2)

allora perché chiami, c'è qualcosa che non va? - so why are you calling, is there something wrong?

(3)

figlia - Daughter

(4)

Papà -Dad

(5)

lavoro assolutamente meraviglioso, piccola, hai bruciato quella strega -

Absolutely wonderful job, baby, you burned that witch

Hope you liked this oneshot! Sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count : 1040

#criminal minds #fanfic #behavioural analysis unit #x child reader #fluff and comfort #oneshot #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #father daughter fluff #daughter reader #david rossi x daughter reader #david rossi #erin strauss #x italian reader

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kevinsdsy · 4 months ago

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jas i need your thoughts on the foxes/trojans seeing the olympic opening ceremony rn

AHHH okay okay i had the opening ceremony on in the background while finishing some things up for work hehe so this is great 🙂‍↕️ also this just turned into what they're up to during the ceremony, idk if this is what u meant but i hope it's okay SHDKDHFJ

the foxes and trojans go to watch the opening ceremony together!! kevin will be damned if he isn't going with jeremy and they're all going anyway, so might as well go together yk

and lets start with the fact its literally raining...? which is actually really aesthetically pleasing because it's still france, but also very very annoying. i imagine half the foxes and even more of the trojans just not taking a jacket with them (either because of aesthetic reasons and not wanting to ruin their outfits or just because they didn't even consider it a possibility) so they're all wet from the rain.

kevin at least bothered to take a jacket with him which has a hood and he actually told the others to take a jacket with them too and now whenever andrew and neil seem annoyed he goes: well i did say to bring a jacket with you, didn't i?

andrew flips him off (he wasn't even the one complaining) and of course a camera turns to them at that moment and it goes viral (i imagine it's either a fan filming them or it's happening in the background of some scene bc why not)

also hello LADY GAGA?? i went in with zero expectations and not keeping up with the news so i didn't know who was going to perform and suddenly there is lady gaga????? singing in french???

shawn is flabbergasted to hear lady gaga sing in french and he keeps bothering jean about what she's saying and jean is determined not to translate anything for them at all times so he tells shawn it's not important- it's just a song, but shawn keeps nagging him about it.

"i'm not telling you, ask kevin." jean tells him off at some point and shawn has now totally forgotten about the performance and is instead intrigued with the revelation that kevin speaks french too

so he's determined to find out more about this instead and goes on to nag kevin instead.

shawn has now forgotten about the opening ceremony altogether and is just going on side quests.

anyways the trojans CHEER for every small group of athleses that appear for their country, jumping up and down, trying to be as loud as possible and just being very supportive.

renee catches on and she joins in on the cheering. at some point dan and matt join in too.

nabil and laila make sure to be extra loud when the boat with the algerian and lebanese athletes show up. they both cheer for each other's countries like it's their own- cat & tony try their best to match their energy and be as loud as possible too.

with like half the countries kevin seems to find an olympics related fact about them that he is determined to share with the others. especially when it has something to do with exy.

when the both with 'virgin islands, british' shows up shawn goes: "i went to virgin islands and everyone knew you there" to the person next to him (without even clocking who it is because he won't let an opportunity for a joke let go to waste) and he turns around to find aaron. andrew? he hasn't yet figured out how to distinguish the two of them.

and aaron looks at him with an expression that basically says "do we really need to do this?" and the silence is so awkward which almost makes shawn regret opening his mouth in the first place and then katelyn starts laughing and makes fun of aaron.

#kevinsdsy’s inbox #all for the game social media au #just some silly lil thoughts of how they're spending this night idk #i didnt know if you wanted what they’re up to or what they thought of the spectacles #but i dont have much to say about the spectacles tbh 🫣#ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE HORSE ON WATER??? STUNNING WOAH

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1arkspur-aconitum · 27 days ago

Text

DEAD AND GONE (s.r.)

SOULS OF POETS DEAD AND GONE, WHAT ELYSIUM HAVE YOU KNOWN?

[PART TWO OF THREE]

IN WHICH: Spencer apologises for his reaction to finding out her previous profession, then has a very curious request...

PAIRING: Season3!SpencerReid/Fem!BAU!OC

CATEGORY: Comfort, fluff

CONTENT: swearing, classic BAU violence, established secret relationship, Spencer being awkward (as usual), very brief discussions of drug and alcohol addiction, discussions of death of a former lover, suggestive themes (16+)

WORD COUNT: 6k

PUBLISHED: 16/10/2024

I BARELY SPEAK TO him the next day.

In fact, I think I said a grand total of three words to him–nothing more than required, nothing at all like our usual long, babbling conversations. No, I avoided him ferociously, like he’s a rat and it’s 1348 in London.

Thankfully for me, Hotch put me with Emily out in the field rather than doing the geographical profile with Spencer. I wonder if Derek spoke to Hotch, but that might be doing Aaron Hotchner a disservice. He is a master profiler, afterall.

Spencer knocked on my door last night, not long after I had fled the bar, but I didn’t open it. I couldn’t. His words hounded me into what meagre sleep I could manage, pounding through my head as I took a shower, bruising into that soft spot in the centre of my chest I reserved only for him. All I could hear since he uttered it was him calling me disgusting.

I know that I should try my best to get over it. Should focus on solving the case rather than on what my boyfriend thinks of my past. Emily spent a considerable chunk of time trying to reassure me that there is nothing for me to be ashamed of, but I don’t know anymore. The way he said it, spat it, still has its claws deep within my self doubt.

Coming from anyone else, I might’ve been able to brush it off, but coming from Spencer, the one person I thought would never judge me, would never hurt me? It’s proving harder to handle.

Spencer, to his credit, gives me my space. He doesn’t try to talk to me any more than necessary, doesn’t corner me somewhere to demand a conversation. Yet I do feel his eyes on me more than anyone else’s.

He watches me with that annoying carefully guarded expression, as if I might break at any moment. It’s patronising and, quite frankly, very annoying. I’m not made of glass. I have had worse things said to me, it’s not like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces because he said some harsh words that he didn’t mean.

Or, at least, I hope he didn’t mean.

He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it. That annoying voice in my head chases me throughout the day, clamouring for my attention along with the words Spencer uttered. It’s safe to say I wasn’t fully there.

It was ultimately JJ who solved the case. She was the one who found out about the janitor that had been making his way up and down the strip of clubs, the one who encouraged Garcia to dig deeper into his history when the surface layer looked boring.

In fact, JJ was also the one who apprehended the guy. Part of me feels guilty for not being the one to solve it, another part even guiltier for letting Spencer’s words have such an affect on my deduction skills, but the happy looks on Tia and Jas’ faces as they embraced my colleague in thanks was enough to lift my concerns.

We all agreed that we would go out for drinks tomorrow night, leaving us all one night to recover in our hotel rooms from such an intense order of business. I’m secretly very grateful. It gives me some time to wallow in my own self-pity, eating Oreos and watching whatever crap I can find on the tiny TV in my hotel room. Nothing a good cry can’t sort out.

I’m propped up on the pillows not long after we left the police station, having politely refused the offer of a drink from Derek, and escaping. I don’t want a pity drink.

The TV flickers with something I am decidedly not paying attention to, crumbs littering the bed. Oreos are usually a cure-all for me, but today they’re not having the desired effect. Nothing seems to be making me feel any better.

This sucks. I knew this case would be rough, but I didn’t think it would be rough for these reasons. I expected the teasing, I expected being blasted with questions, but nothing could have prepared me for the way Spencer called me disgusting. Called me a hooker when I know that he knows damn well what the difference is. I didn’t realise how much I craved Spencer’s approval until he pulled it away from me like a rug from under my feet.

I wonder if I should go and talk to him, but I don’t particularly want to. All I want is to stay here in my cocoon of sadness until it tires me out enough that I fall asleep.

I am just about to get up to make myself a hot chocolate, hoping that warm milk will encourage me to pass out so I can stop thinking about the way Spencer looked when he spat those words at me, when there is a knock on my door.

I choose to ignore it, hoping that whoever it is will just go away. I sink further into my bed covers and reach for another Oreo. The packet is empty. What a travesty.

The knocking continues. It gets louder, more insistent, until I have no choice but to groan loudly and clamber out of bed. I stomp to the door. It’s safe to say I’m royally pissed off. All I want is to lounge around and be sad, but no matter what, whoever is on the other side of the door is almost guaranteed not to let me.

I yank the door open, fully prepared to give whoever is on the other side a piece of my mind, but the words die on my tongue when I see who it is. Spencer stands in the hallway, looking adorable in his shirt and tie, hands tucked behind his back. He’s wearing his glasses, too. It’s as if he knows how much they affect me.

‘June–’ he starts, but I cut him off.

‘What do you want, Spencer?’ My voice is cold, flat, mimicking the way he spoke to me not 24 hours earlier. I don’t really want to talk to him, not when it’s him who has forced me to do so.

‘I…can I come in?’ He asks, glancing nervously down the corridor.

‘No.’ The word is bland, disinterested. I cross my arms over my chest, staring up at him with as much hurt I can muster. I’m doing my best to ignore the way my heart is pounding against my ribs. I shouldn’t be affected by him, not when he’s said those things to me, but I am. I hate that I am. It’s Spencer, though, so of course I am affected by him. ‘I don’t really want to talk to you right now.’

‘Please..?’ Spencer sounds so pathetic, looks so earnest, that I find my facade crumbling just a smidge. ‘I just want five minutes. That’s all.’

I debate for a few seconds. ‘Fine. Whatever.’

I turn sharply on my heel and stalk back into my room, not caring to see if he follows. He does, and closes the door behind him softly. He’s usually always so tender. I flop onto the pillows and pick up the empty Oreo packet, glaring at it as if it’s the cause of all my problems. The silence is tense. Heavy. I glance at him expectantly.

Spencer is standing awkwardly at the end of my bed, wringing his hands together as he looks anywhere but at me. I can tell that he’s nervous, but I don’t know why. I’m the one who should be nervous. He was the one who decided to be cruel, to say those words to me, and yet here he is, acting as if I’m the one who hurt him. To tell you the truth, it pisses me off a little.

‘I’m sorry.’ He blurts the words out, barely more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. When I look up at him, surprised, I find him already watching me. Those beautiful brown eyes of his are completely unguarded this time, as vast and deep as an ocean. ‘I’m sorry for saying what I said last night. It was stupid, and mean, and I don’t know why I said them because I didn’t even mean them.’

‘You didn’t mean them?’ I repeat, measured voice laced with disbelief. It’s not as firm as I would like it to be, though. ‘You sounded pretty convincing when you said them, Spence.’

‘I know, I know I did, and I’m sorry.’ Spencer’s eyes swim with remorse, and he takes a tentative step towards me. I don’t move, body frozen as I listen to what he’s trying to tell me. ‘I was…I don’t know, I was angry. I lashed out and said things to make you angry, too. For that, I’m sorry.’

I pause, weighing up his words, and swing my legs off of the edge of the bed. I gaze up at him, head cocked. He’s confusing me more than usual. He seems genuine, standing there with his open expression, his nervous hands, but I still can’t shake the feeling that he was also genuine last night.

‘Being angry doesn’t excuse the way you spoke to me, Spencer.’ I choose my words carefully, letting him see the furrow of my brow. ‘It doesn’t wash away the fact that you called me hooker in front of our friends, or the fact that you called me disgusting. It doesn’t change the fact that you hurt me.’

‘It’s not–I’m not trying to make excuses.’ Spencer flinches, before he carefully drops onto his knees on the carpet before me. He looks up at me and I can tell he wants to touch me. A hand reaches out, thinks better about it, and falls into his lap. ‘I’m just trying to explain. I know I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do.’

‘Then why did you say it?’ I sigh, running a hand through my hair. My words are meek, exposed as a cliff to a crashing shore.

‘I told you. I was angry.’ Spencer sits back on his haunches, copying my motion. His hair is pushed away like Prince Charming yet again, his eyes so wide underneath the thick lenses of his glasses. It’s almost as if he’s intentionally making this difficult for me.

‘Why? Because I used to be a stripper? Because, like I said last night, it was my old life, and I don’t regret it–’

‘No–no, it’s…’ Spencer hesitates, pushing his glasses up with the back of his hand before looking down at his lap. His mouth twists in discomfort. ‘It wasn’t because of that, not really. It was–’

‘It was what?’ I encourage, leaning forward slightly. Most of the malice has dropped out of my voice, and I’m now trying to make him feel comfortable enough to continue talking.

‘It was because you didn’t tell me.’ He says finally, looking me dead in the eye. ‘And then, you sounded so…so happy when you were telling the others about it that it…it upset me.’

‘It upset you?’ I repeat, brow furrowing. I’m even more confused than before, but at least the anger has ebbed away. We’re having a discussion about it, and that’s probably for the best. The last thing I want to do is lose Spencer. ‘I don’t understand. Why would that upset you?’

He looks away from me, chewing the inside of his cheek, his hands working furiously together in front of him. I reach out and let my fingers brush against the back of his knuckles. When he looks back at me, I try to look as open and receptive as I can. This is a safe space for him. I won’t judge him.

‘Because…well, because I thought you trusted me.’ His voice is so soft, so vulnerable, that it damn near breaks my heart. I offer him the palm of my hand in the space between us. He takes it. This physical contact seems to give him the courage he needs to keep talking. ‘I thought we were getting closer, and then you drop this bombshell on me in front of everyone, and it felt like…like you were keeping something hidden from me.’

‘I…I wasn’t trying to keep something hidden from you, Spence.’ I feel a pang of guilt. I can see how he might think that–after all, it’s not like I didn’t have a couple of opportunities to tell him before we stepped foot in the strip club. ‘It’s just…it’s complicated. That was a really weird time of my life, and a lot was going on.’

‘Like what?’ He asks, squeezing my hand gently. His thumb traces soothing circles on my palm. It sends a familiar warmth blooming in the pit of my stomach, a stark contrast to the coldness I felt last night. ‘I want to understand. Please.’

‘Alright.’ I sigh, and pat the bed next to me. ‘Get up here. I don’t want you to hurt your knees and we might be here for a while.’

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. He clambers up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in front of me. Our knees bump together and he shyly pulls both of my hands into his lap. His cold fingers start to fiddle with my own as he waits expectantly for me to start talking.

My heart twinges in a mixture of adoration and fear. What I am about to tell him is a lot, and if he was mad about me ‘hiding’ the stripping thing, then this might be what breaks him.

But I shall tell him. And I’ll tell him all of it.

‘Okay. Okay.’ I take a deep breath and shake my shoulders loose. Spencer’s eyes are locked onto me, patient, waiting. I’m so nervous that I’m sure he can feel my hands shaking between his. Spencer gives me an encouraging nod. ‘So…so I started dancing for a specific reason. In fact, I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done–would never have considered doing–because of, of this reason. Um. God.’

‘It’s alright. I promise I won’t judge you–not like yesterday.’ Spencer’s voice is softer than I deserve.

‘I had a fiancé.’ The words tumble out of my mouth and fall into the space around us.

The room is deathly silent. I’m not sure either of us are breathing. I can’t bring myself to look at him, not wanting to see how he’s taking the news. What I do know is that his hands around mine stop fiddling. I rub my lips together and then the words don’t stop.

‘I met Jay when I was doing my first undergrad, the Classical History one, and we…clicked. He and I moved in together whilst I was doing my Cornell degree, after five years. He proposed not long after that. We were to be married once I graduated.

‘Uh…I kinda assumed that would be it for me, y’know. One true love. But…well, not everything works out the way you think it will.’ I say, looking up at him to find him staring at me, those brown eyes stained with that confusion and hurt I saw yesterday. I have to keep going, have to get the words out. ‘I know. It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?’

‘What happened?’ Spencer’s voice is quiet, but surprisingly steady, his shoulders a firm line. He’s gripping my hands so tightly that it hurts, but I don’t mind. We both need the physical contact.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to say. What I’m about to relive.

‘He died.’

It’s raw. Harsh, the words grating against the back of my throat.

‘I came home one day from a lecture and…and someone had broken in. Trashed the place. I found…I found Jay in the bedroom.’ I stare down at the bedspread, not seeing the bland hotel pattern but the lifeless form of my old lover. ‘Someone had…he was shot. There was nothing I could have done.’

‘Oh, June…’ Spencer’s voice is so thick with sympathy that I could chew it. He squeezes my hands and I finally look up at him. His eyes are lined with silver. He looks as heartbroken as I feel, as if he’s feeling the pain as acutely as I am. I have to look away. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It–it was a long time ago.’ I force a smile onto my face, but it’s brittle. Likely to snap at any moment. ‘After that, everything broke down. I left Cornell–I couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t live in that same apartment–and went to New York. I didn’t know what to do. I was lost and alone and I just…didn’t want to feel that pain anymore.’

‘So you started dancing.’ Spencer’s tone is laden with understanding, so impossibly gentle. He looks at me with his characteristically kind eyes and I can tell that he regrets everything he said. Part of me forgives him then and there. I nod, trying not to let the tears fall. ‘It was a way to escape.’

‘Exactly.’ I whisper, voice barely audible. I hate the way it quivers. ‘Amongst other stuff. I started taking drugs–I mean, I’d smoked weed and shit before, but after Jay it was like I didn’t care. I slept with random people. Started working as a stripper. I was spiralling. I lost myself in other people, other things, until I didn’t have to think about what happened. It worked. For a while.’

‘But not forever.’ Spencer finishes my sentence for me, intertwining our fingers. He’s looking at me differently now, as if he’s just realised something that makes him view me in a different light. Considering that he’s not letting go of my hands, I have to hope that it is a good thing. ‘And that’s why you slept with that guy, the regular.’

‘Yes.’ I confirm, hating the shame that creeps up my neck. I don’t want to hide anything from Spencer any more, though. There’s been enough hiding. ‘I slept with him because, for a brief moment, he made me feel something other than grief. It wasn’t real. It was simply filling a void. God, I was a mess back then.’

‘So…what made you stop?’

‘My mother.’ I half-laugh, blinking back tears and rolling my eyes at him. ‘Who else? She heard about what was happening from Tia–I still haven’t fully forgiven T for that, by the way–and essentially kidnapped me.’

Spencer chuckles, but it’s not fully humorous. ‘She…she kidnapped you?’

‘Yeah, she did. She lives in this commune in Illinois–fully self-sufficient and a massive bunch of hippies.’ I say the words with so much love that it brightens every syllable. ‘The commune saved my life. They helped me process Jay, get off the drugs I was on, taught me better coping skills. Encouraged me to complete my degree. I haven’t looked back since.’

‘And you don’t regret it?’ Spencer asks, thumbs now tracing gentle, casual circles on the softest part of my wrists. It warms my chest. ‘You don’t regret what you did, or what you had to do to get through it?’

‘No, Spence, I don’t.’ I smile at him, the action finally reaching my eyes. ‘I mean, I wish I’d done some things differently, but I don’t regret it. I loved dancing. I learnt a lot about myself and made some excellent friends. Yeah, the circumstances were shitty, but I wouldn’t trade in all the good times for a few bad ones.’

Spencer regards me for a long time, his eyes searching mine, scouring my face. I let him see everything. I don’t hold anything back, letting myself be an open book for him to read. I let him peer into the darkest parts of me without fear. Without qualms. This is me. I have nothing to hide from him anymore. He can take it or leave it.

He lets out a long, shaking breath.

‘Thank you…for telling me.’ He says, angling his head as he continues to inspect me. Spencer pauses, shifting so his elbows are on his knees. Our interlocked hands drop into my lap. I could lean in and kiss him if I wanted to. But I won’t. ‘I should have known…I just…I just got so jealous when I heard you talking about it that I couldn’t think anymore. I really should have known better. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s alright, Spence.’ I offer him a reassuring smile, feeling a crushing weight lift off of my chest. I lift our hands and press a careful kiss to the back of his. ‘I understand why you reacted the way you did. It was a lot to take in.’

‘It was.’ He admits, gaze softening with a small smile. ‘But I’m glad you told me. I want to learn everything about you. Even the most difficult parts. Actually, especially those parts.’

‘Oh, really?’ I say, my tone laden with teasing. ‘Especially the most difficult parts?’

‘Well, I’m not sure I like the way you’re saying that,’ Spencer says warily, but my broad smile is infectious and soon he’s grinning at me. ‘But yes.’

‘Don’t worry, I think I’ve just told you the worst of it.’ I laugh, pulling one of my hands free to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear. His skin is so hot it’s nearly feverish. He leans into my touch, pursing his lips slightly. ‘And don’t you dare get hung up on the word ‘think’, Spencer. I know you. If something else comes to me, I’ll tell you, alright?’

‘Alright.’ Spencer agrees, his voice soft. It’s clear we’re both done arguing.

I smile gently and slowly start to clamber into his lap. I take my time, not wanting to rush him, and giving him plenty of opportunities to push me away. He doesn’t. In fact, his hands drop to my hips and tug me closer. Once I’m settled, I spot how his eyes flicker from mine to my mouth and away. He looks as if he wants to say something, so I wait, curling my fingers in the fine hairs at the back of his neck.

‘I…I have a question.’

‘Alright. Ask away.’ I raise a curious eyebrow, my heart pounding so hard against my ribcage that I’m pretty sure he can feel it too. I have no idea what he’s going to ask, but I am ready for anything. I’ve already laid my soul bare to him, there isn’t anything more to hide. I wonder if this apprehension is what Prometheus feels when he hears the eagle’s wings.

‘Do you…I mean, would you ever…’ He turns bright red, as if he’s embarrassed by the question he’s attempting to ask me. Spencer looks down at the space between us, his hair tickling my chin as he rests the crown of his head against my collar. I wait patiently and rub soothing circles into his back. ‘Would you dance for, for me?’

‘Dance for you?’ I repeat his question. I cup his cheeks and gently pull him away from where he’s hiding, forcing him to look at me and see that I am not laughing at him. That I don’t find the request funny, or humiliating. ‘You mean, like how I would in Elysium?’

‘Yes.’ Spencer nods, voice firmer now when he sees there is no sign of distaste or disapproval in my eyes. He looks so vulnerable, so open, that it melts my heart.

Affection floods through me. I want to show him that I am not ashamed of my past, that I am willing to share something that brings me so much joy. Even though dancing is laden with the Jay thing, the drugs thing, I still love it. It’s freeing and a massive boost of confidence, and if Spencer wants to witness me doing that, then who am I to deny him.

‘Why, of course, Spencer.’ I smile, smoothing a thumb under his eye. His eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. Spencer leans forward and presses a tentative kiss to my lips. It’s chaste but still sends a shiver down my spine. ‘I would be honoured. You just have to let me make some calls first, alright?’

This will be fun…

Elysium isn’t too busy when we arrive, which I take as a good sign. There are a few regulars dotted about in individual booths, scantily clad women meandering through them, dishing out lap dances where requested.

Familiar pop songs blare through the speakers as two girls dance on the stage, a bed of green money laid out on the floor for them. It’s smoky, heady, and it might be my own anticipation, but it feels as if the whole space thrums with energy.

The music threatens to break through my skin, the bass reverberating through my skeleton. It feels good to be back.

I make my way towards the bar, pulling Spencer along behind me. We were chatting on the way here, but the closer we got to Elysium the more apprehensive he became. Spencer doesn’t talk much when he’s nervous.

I’ve been trying to loosen him up, but all I can really do is hope that it’s a good nervous, an excited nervous, rather than an ‘oh my god what am I doing’ nervous. I don’t think Spencer has ever had someone strip for him like this before.

No pressure or anything, June. It’s not like he’ll forget it.

‘Alright,’ I say, encouraging him to sit on a stool near the bar. He has a slightly panicked look in his eye, unsure where he’s allowed to rest his eyes. Andrea leans casually against the surface, her large breasts almost spilling out of her tiny bra, a bemused look on her face. I smile warmly at her and she raises a hand in greeting. I turn back to Spencer who is staring at his lap. ‘Can you order us both a drink?’

‘You’re leaving?’ Spencer says, jerking his head up to look me in the eye.

I laugh and step between his knees, carding my fingers through his long hair. ‘Yes, but not long. I’ve gotta go get changed, but I will come back for you soon. Is that alright?’

‘I…I can’t come with you?’ He says meekly, fingers digging into the backs of my thighs.

‘No, not backstage, sweetheart.’ I try to keep the humour out of my voice. It’s sweet that he doesn’t want me to leave him, but I have to. ‘I promise I won’t be long, alright.’

‘You promise?’

‘Yes, Spence, I promise.’ I kiss him softly on the lips, careful not to smudge any of my lipstick, still smiling into his mouth. He’s impossibly on edge. Hopefully a drink will ease the tension. ‘Just relax, order a drink, and I’ll be back before you know it.’

I squeeze his thigh gently before pushing away from him, nodding once at Andrea. She and I have known each other for a while–not as long as I’ve known Tia and Jas, but long enough that I know she’ll take care of Spencer without shoving his face in her tits. Or without letting other people shove his face in their tits.

Carefully, I pick my way around the edge of the room, headed towards the backstage doors, where I can see Jas talking with a stripper I don’t recognise. Jas is dressed in silver today, a slinky number that sticks to her curves and accentuates the long legs I’ve always been so jealous of. As I walk, a duffle bag bumps against my hips.

‘Junebug!’ Jas grins, spotting me. She grabs me by the shoulders, glancing over my shoulder to where I’m sure a still dazed and confused-looking Spencer is sitting. Her face tightens. ‘Tia said you’d called–I am so sorry, by the way, if I had known, I wouldn’t’ve–’

‘It’s alright, Jas.’ I laugh, brushing her hair from her shoulder. She seems genuinely apologetic. ‘The team doesn't know, otherwise I would’ve stopped you before you made him blush as much as you did.’

She throws her head back and laughs, taking my arm and leading me through another secret door. ‘I suppose it’s your turn to make him blush now, Junie.’

These corridors are familiar, painfully so–I got so drunk I nearly threw up in that storage closet over there, I smoked a bowl with Tia in that dressing room, did a line of cocaine off Jas’ breasts in that one. They hold the memories of the me I never thought I would become, the me I never thought I would escape. With every step I take, I wonder what it would take to tip me back into that person.

‘Alright, here, you can use my dressing room.’ Jas stops at her door and pushes it open. ‘Tia’s with a client right now, but she should be done in about fiveish mins, so you can find her afterwards. She’s got the key.’

‘Perfect, thanks for doing this, by the way. I know it’s kinda last minute.’ I smile, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. ‘And the team are still down for drinks tomorrow, by the way, if you guys are. If you need me to sweet talk Harold, I can try.’

‘It’s all worked out already, I think Amy and Beth are coming as well, so should be fun!’ Jasmine reciprocates, pressing a kiss to my cheek before pushing me into her room. ‘Now, hurry up, you’ve got a doctor to knock the socks off of–what are you gonna wear?’

I tug her in after me with an eye roll. Of course she wants to know all the little details.

Jas’s changing room is sparsely furnished aside from a plush armchair angled in the corner–it’s the same one we once both managed to fit on, sharing a spliff and laughing as Tia reenacted a particularly interesting lap dance she performed. A table is pressed up against the wall, the edges of it as chipped as the mirror propped up on top. A few polaroid pictures have been stuck to the frame, and I can see my own face beaming out at me.

‘Give me your phone.’ Jas says, and I oblige her, busy rummaging around in the duffle bag. Soon after, the sound of my playlist starts to hum through the room. It’s soft, trance-like, and alluring. The music I always prefer to dance to. ‘Alright, show me what you’re gonna wear.’

When I turn around to show her the lingerie set in my hands, she’s sprawled out on that armchair, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her eyes widen and she just nods at me with delight.

‘I’m kinda nervous.’ I admit, not caring if Jas sees me naked. I strip off my current clothes and start to put on the lingerie. It’s new, so Spencer hasn’t seen it before–in fact, I bought it specifically for him, in the hopes that we might be able to make use of it on this case. It’s dark green, skimpy, and covered in embroidered lace and beads. It leaves very little to the imagination.

‘Really?’ Jas asks, popping a piece of bubblegum into her mouth. ‘Why?’

‘I mean, I haven’t danced for someone else in a very long time.’ I murmur, straightening the tiny bra so that it properly accents my boobs. It’s not as if I don’t remember how to do it, I’ve been taking pole classes intermittently in Virginia, when our schedule allows. ‘And I’ve never danced for someone I actually care about.’

‘Aw, you’re adorable.’ Jas gushes, blowing a bubble. ‘You’ll be fine–you look gorgeous, by the way. Do you need to borrow some heels?’

‘Please.’ I laugh sheepishly. ‘They’re not exactly something I pack for a case.’

Jas unfurls herself from the chair and heads to the only other piece of furniture in the tiny room. It’s the infamous wardrobe–Jas keeps every outfit she’s ever worn on site, and works kind of like the inhouse dry cleaners. Everything is available as long as you can fit into it, and as long as you give it back. It saved my life many times.

‘Oo, black, please.’ I call over to her as I slip into a small, black slip dress that I’ll wear until we get to the private room. It makes the lingerie more special, I think, if he doesn’t get to see it right away.

‘Here you go.’ She grins, passing me a pair of classic black stiletto stripper heels. They shine in the soft light, and I can see that the material is littered with sparkles. Simple enough for what I know Jas has in that wardrobe, and they make my legs look a mile long when I try them on. ‘Perfect. You look gorgeous. Come on, now, get out there and show the doctor what you can do!’

‘Alright, alright!’ I laugh, grabbing my phone quickly before she wrestles me out of the door. I’m leaving the bag here. I give her a quick, grateful hug as she hurries me out of the door and back into the main part of Elysium.

As I step out of the backstage area, I start to hum along to the music, letting the sound of it start to move my body in a way I haven’t done in a while. Teasing, sultry, a slight warm up for what is about to happen. Jas smacks my arse quickly and wiggles her fingers in a goodbye. I watch as she disappears amongst the crowd, searching for someone to wring dry. The bass makes the floor shake, as familiar as an earthquake.

I spot Spencer at the bar, looking as out of place as he ever has. He sits exactly where I left him, but this time he’s nursing a large drink, my own still sitting on the bar. One leg is crossed over the other, and he keeps his eyes resolutely on the glass in his hand. He looks so adorable in his glasses, in his shirt and tie, so awkward, that my heart swells a little. This is the last place Dr. Reid would ever be found in, and yet here he is.

He’ll get over it. I reassure myself, smoothing slightly clammy hands down my dress. God, I’m actually really worried about this. My heart pounds an unsteady rhythm against my ribcage, sweat sticking my thighs together. He’s going to remember every single second, so it has to be good. I’m probably just freaking myself out more with that thought.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and start to walk towards him. I do it lazily, seductively, allowing myself to fall into the stripper mindset. The small slip dress barely brushes the swell of my thighs, showing off a hint of the garter I’m wearing. Spencer spots me almost immediately and his whole body tenses.

He likes the dress, that much is obvious. His mouth parts as his hungry eyes scour every inch. The low neckline, the short hem, and the slight sheerness of the fabric means that when the lights wash over me, he can see a sneak peak of what’s to come. Spencer swallows hard, unable to stop staring as I approach, absentmindedly putting his glass down on the bar.

‘Hey, handsome.’ I smile, stepping between his legs and running my hands over his smooth hair. He still has his glasses on, which makes him look even more awkward. His hands wrap around the back of my thighs, callused hands against bare skin.

‘Hey.’ He murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. He blinks a couple of times in rapid succession, like he does when he’s thinking really hard. A permanent blush brightens his cheekbones. ‘You look…beautiful.’

‘Thank you,’ I smile at him, biting my lip. His eyes are drawn to movement, lips slightly parted. There’s still a tension in his shoulders that I want him to lose. I want him to enjoy this, after all. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Terrified.’

‘Aw, sweetheart, that’s not what I want to hear.’ I say gently, leaning down and pressing a kiss to each of his cheeks. His skin is red hot. ‘Can I ask why? Is it me?’

‘What? No, it’s not you.’ Spencer says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He pulls one of my hands out of his hair to press a kiss to the palm of it, the most tender thing he has done for me in a while. A familiar warmth pools in the pit of my stomach. ‘You’re the only thing keeping me here. I’m just…I’ve never done this before.’

‘I know.’ I say softly, a slight smile turning the corners of my lips. ‘Funnily enough, Spence, it doesn’t surprise me that you’ve never done this before. I would be more concerned if you had.’

‘No, I mean–I don’t know. I just feel so out of place.’ He flushes and leans in closer, as if he’s worried that he’ll be overheard. His next words are a hiss. ‘When I…when I asked if you would dance for me, I meant back in the hotel.’

‘We can go back if you want, Spencer,’ I sigh, tilting his face up to mine and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Spencer is soft, pliant, and grips the back of my thighs tighter. ‘But, if you want me to dance for you, then I want to do it right. And the only way I can do that is here. Look, why don’t we just go to the private room, you might feel more comfortable there.’

He thinks it over for a couple of seconds, fingers secretly brushing up the backs of my thighs. I resist the urge to shiver at the action, fearing that any movement might scare him off. I wait patiently. We have time. Eventually, Spencer grips my hips with his big hands and nods. He’ll do it.

Victorious, I pick up our drinks and encourage Spencer to stand. He doesn’t let go of my waist as I lead him through the crowd, headed towards where I can see Tia. I kind of like him like this. Dependent. Clinging to me as if he’s worried I’ll slip out of his grasp and vanish.

Tia grins at us as we approach. She’s dressed in a shimmering gold number that matches Jas’, sticking to all the right places. Her long dreads are piled atop her head in a messy bun, a few stray strands framing her gorgeous face. She leans casually against the wall next to the door that has the PRIVATE neon sign above it, a mischievous glint in her eye.

‘Well, well, Junebug, look at you.’ She gives me an appreciative look, and I bask a little in it, showing off the heels. Tia then turns her attention onto Spencer, a bemused look on her face. ‘I should have known, honestly. From the moment I saw you, I was like she’s gonna be all over you. June here’s always had a type.’

I laugh, watching Spencer look sheepishly at Tia. His cheeks are a deep crimson, and he keeps glancing down at his feet, as if he’ll be told off for looking too long. ‘You’re not wrong, T. You’re not wrong. To his credit, this one took a little bit of convincing.’

‘Somehow, I don’t believe that. June always went for the pretty boys.’ Tia steps up to Spencer, smooths a hand across one of his shoulders. Spencer tenses, the hand on my hip tightening. He looks up, eyes darting between us, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension and what I hope is pride. I laugh again through a sip of my drink. Spencer swallows. ‘And let me tell you, they always went for her.’

‘Alright, alright, don’t tease him.’ I pout, rolling my eyes at her behind Spencer’s back. I’ve only just got him to relax, I don’t want her to rile him up again. She’s always like that, though. She gives me an apologetic look and quickly takes her hand off of my boyfriend. My heart calms briefly. ‘Can we have room three? That’s still the one with the big sofa, right?’

‘Yeah, of course.’ Tia nods, using a key around her neck to unlock the PRIVATE door. It opens onto a corridor lined with black doors, each with a small, circular window covered by a blind. Small lights at the top shine red or green to show availability. Most show red. She leads the way, and I take Spencer’s hand in mine, pulling him along behind me. ‘That’s always been your favourite, hasn’t it?’

‘I think I just like the sofa, honestly.’ I grin, glancing over my shoulder at Spencer. I am very pleased to see that his eyes are on my arse as I walk ahead of him. When he realises I’m watching him, his cheeks get even redder if that’s possible. I squeeze his hand to reassure him. He’s allowed to look at my arse, and I know that he knows that, I think the environment makes him think that he can’t. ‘Plus, I always used room three.’

‘I know, I never use it anymore because it makes me think of you.’ Tia says, stopping in front of the aforementioned room. She unlocks it with a flourish and pushes the door wide to let us in. I lead Spencer inside, Tia giving him a once-over as he shuffles past her. She winks at me before addressing him. ‘Good luck, Spencer. You’re gonna need it.’

‘Oh, I already know that…’ Spencer smiles shyly at her.

Tia sketches a mock bow to us before tossing me the key and closing the door.

Game time.

THANK YOU FOR READING! PART THREE CAN BE FOUND HERE.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds fanfiction #larkspur-acontium #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds headcanons

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vhstown · 1 year ago

Text

miles g morales ★ general headcanons

warnings: sort of angsty, mentions of his dad's death, money being tight and such 😞

a/n: hi my little piranhas im feeding you today say AHHHHHHHH.... all my random non-relationship miles g thoughts dumped into one! he has 6 lines but less is more right 😁 im okay i promi

Let me just geek out about his non-existent gear functions for a moment 😞 Miles is all about little modifications and improvement so when he messes around with his uncle's gear he decides to make some adjustments to the design and also the functionality. Has his own spin to all of his gear cause a part of him really wants to be like the superheroes he sees in comics with their own sort of persona. But of course it has to be functional so...!

All of his gear is coordinated and he has a mode where he can turn off all the lights for stealth and such! The lights are actually off most of the time but he puts them on to show off mostly or make himself known when he's bored of waiting.

A really cool function would be if he could redirect or offset his lights so when he's fighting in complete darkness he can easily confuse his enemies. Tends to scope out places and mess around with the power supplies — uses the occasional smoke bomb too. He's in his element in dark, maze-like places, which essentially makes Brooklyn his concrete playground.

Scarily good at lockpicking. Has broken into his own house multiple times from forgetting his keys. He can open most doors with simple tools and disable electronic locks with a little work.

Can I just mention his shoes as well... they're like the jumpy shoes from Subway Surfers you can't prove me wrong until the next movie comes out like— Okay no but seriously I imagine he can stick to surfaces and things and maybe they can propell him upwards? You see those glowing lights idk figure it out 😞

Also somebody (I have no idea who but here's the link to the original post) had a headcanon that he'd have a high auditory intelligence, so for a while, he spends time developing a voice modulator. He likely has one anyway to keep his identity a secret, but what he really wants to do is is create a device that can replicate other people's voices.

Because he's good with sound and physics he makes it work in no less than a few weeks. The first voice he tries is his uncle's and he says a bunch of dumbass stuff. (Aaron is a little annoyed but more proud of his nephew than anything.) Eventually it gets to the point where he can calibrate it with a couple clicks since he has such a good ear for frequencies and the like that deceiving villains is no trouble at all.

I think Aaron and Miles would still have that cool uncle and nephew relationship but its also a mentor and student one. While Miles is good at the tech stuff I think he's a pretty lousy fighter at the beginning and Aaron has to teach him a LOT.

Uncle Aaron probably used to fight for sport back in the day (boxing mayhaps? 😁) so a lot of Miles' technique stems from MMA due to its versatility (anything hand-to-hand at least.) Even then, most of the problem is being able to think quick and act quicker, so Miles goes through lots of practical training (so he's being chased by the Sinister Six from day one 😭) It's well worth it though because without the Spider-powers he has a lot of catching up to do.

While training with Aaron he's exposed to a lot of his old records and develops a taste for jazz. He comes to associate certain manoeuvres with the way the music goes, so he tends to hum to himself while casually knocking the wind out of people. His uncle finds it just a little creepy, but again, he's glad to see Miles coming along.

In fact, Aaron is relieved. His nephew had been reserved and was pretty much holed up in his own room for weeks after his dad passed. Of course the passing of Jefferson was hard on Aaron, but Miles has it even harder. Eventually, they decide to paint the mural together, and Miles lets Aaron know what's on his mind. He's always been close to his uncle but especially then spending time roaming the streets, painting, boxing and listening to old records was his lifeline.

Miles figures out his uncle is the Prowler before Aaron even lets him in on it. After seeing how determined his nephew his is, that's when it all started.

But with everything going on in his vigilante life, his normal life is something he has has to be careful not to fall behind on. At the age where college applications are coming up, Miles is driven to the bone with school, despite not actually being there half the time. Still, he's somehow averaging As and the occasional B, easily the top of his class in AP Physics and Calc.

He doesn't try to talk to people in school like he might've before, but he's not antisocial by any means (sometimes his bluntness is mistaken for talking back though 💀)

He's also the type of dude to do homework as soon as the teacher hands it out, because he knows he will not have time later (and to avoid all the night-before crises of freshman year.)

Rio is being pulled thin too, always covering shifts for her colleagues at the hospital just so she can have a little extra pay. She's been saving for Miles' birthday since his last one, always checks his clothes for holes or if they still fit, and makes sure there's something in the microwave if she can't be there for dinner. Rio makes sure he always has everything he needs, even while paying bills and rent. They're not struggling too much, but it's not like they can do whatever they want.

Despite that, they're managing; what she doesn't know is that the sigh of relief she breathes every month is because of him. Miles always makes sure to take care of his belongings, put in any cash he makes from his "part time job" into her account, just doing whatever he can to help. Also, he's become more and more protective of his mom, and he always takes the opportunity to do errands for her, especially when it's getting dark outside.

Miles is actually more paranoid than her when it comes to saving. Even when it's winter, and she tells him to turn on the heating whenever, you best believe he's throwing on his jacket in his own room and firming the cold. It's entirely unnecessary of course, but he can't shake the guilt when he feels the only reason his mom works so hard is because of him. They've moved twice already and there's no way they're moving again, so if the landlord gives them trouble he'll just give them hell (let's just hope it won't come to that.)

Miles learnt how to treat his own injuries from Rio. She taught him basic first aid at the very least, and on a couple of occasions he's tried to learn things himself with the clunky old first aid kit at home. Rio never asks why the stitch on one of their pillows is done with dental floss, and looks strangely like that of a suture (a very bad one at that.)

His Spanish also improved a lot too. After his dad's passing, he met a lot of relatives from his mom's side that he doesn't remember ever seeing before, but it encourages him to learn how to speak better. Long gone are the days of silently observing family drama over the phone — he has to keep up now, and he'll defend his mom cada día de la semana (even if she's somewhat embarrassed by it.) Essentially he's at that level of fluency where he can be rude without being rude 😭 (just saying some of the things his relatives say are NOT helpful.)

With all of this going on in his life, it's no surprise that sleep doesn't come easy. Or maybe it is, considering how much he works his body. Either way, he's left staring at the ceiling or curled up on his side most nights, the untouched toys and collectibles in his room to keep him company. Miles used to sleep at 8pm on the dot and wake up at 6; that was when things were good, and he didn't have his whole universe on his shoulders. All his bed is now is a place to collapse, and close his eyes until it's light outside. Most days, he's exhausted — bone-tired — but the most he gets is a light, forced, uncomfortable sleep. It's one in which he wakes up more tired than he was the night before, but he presses on, getting exercise in during the morning and trying to make breakfast for his mom because he knows a slice of toast is the most she'd bother to have.

And despite all that's changed since his dad has passed, Miles is still a kid. He has a thousand pictures from the time he went to Comic-con, a sketchbook full of drawings he never finishes, meticulously-organised playlists, college applications — all in the midst of a city that's falling apart at the seams as much as he is.

But he's okay, for now. As much as he can be.

"Keep your head up, son."

It's what his dad would've wanted, at the very least.

@phoenixinthefiles @qiupachups

hey 😊 "where's ain't no love part thre—" (GLASS SHATTERING NOISE) (CAT MRYEOWING) (BABY CRYING) (POLICE SIRENS) (WEE WOO WEE WOO)

forget miles IM being pulled thin ... half of this may or may not be projection... schrödingers headcanons anyone 😞 anyways ive been like busy. so . SOON! (lying in 4K)

reblogs appreciated!!! 😘 FIND MY MASTERLIST HERE and urrrr my 42 x reader headcanons here if you're interested ?

#miles g morales #miles gonzalo morales #prowler miles #miles g #42!miles headcanons #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #42 miles morales #miles 42 #the prowler #atsv headcanons #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #vhstown

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ecoterrorist-katara · 9 months ago

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Do you think that the gaang atla movie might make casual fans realize bryke are not the best writers? Like Everywhere they get praised but honestly if the writing in the movie is at the levels of the comics I could maybe see ppl turn on them a bit ( it also sucks bc I doubt katara and zuko will even interact in the movie)

Hi anon! I think people will almost certainly be disappointed in the new Avatar Studios movie, because nothing has even come close to the quality of ATLA after the original show ended. However, from what I’ve observed in the fandom, there’s always someone other than Bryke to blame. For example, when people rag on Korra, they blame Nickelodeon. When they rag on the comics, they blame Gene Yang (and incidentally I’ve actually seen a K/ataang shipper say that the reason the comics are so bad is because Gene Yang is a Zutara shipper — as if a grown ass professional would compromise his contract / reputation for a ship war). And when they rag on the first live action movie, they rag on M. Night. I’m not saying that Bryke are completely at fault for the shortcomings for these projects — collaborative creative pursuits are wonderful, magical things and it’s hard to know where credit and blame go when the whole point is that collaboration is beyond the sum of its parts — but the bottom line is that when certain fans are hellbent on not blaming Bryke, there are always other scapegoats.

I’m friends with many casual fans, and they were the ones who got me into the show. Honestly, I don’t think they even gave a second thought to Bryke until they left the Netflix production, which is convenient because now people can credit Bryke for the ingenuity of ATLA and blame Netflix for driving them away. I’m not sure casual fans will turn on Bryke for making a mediocre movie…BUT: if Zuko undergoes a character regression similar to his comics arc, people will probably get mad. Zuko’s redemption arc is widely considered one of the best on TV. You cannot find a Reddit thread about “best redemption arcs of all time” without Zuko being one of the top answers. From Bryke’s interviews, it kind of feels like they don’t really understand his appeal, and if they butcher his character in the absence of writers who got him more…well, I think people will be real mad about that. I mean, people got so mad about NATLA Katara, and she’s nowhere near as beloved as Zuko b/c misogyny and racism and many people found her annoying but that’s a whole other thing

And on a related note, I agree that Katara and Zuko will probably barely interact in the new movie, and it will seem kind of stilted and awkward. I remember an interview with Aaron Ehasz where he said that he’s not really a shipper and he doesn’t write stories with shipping in mind: what matters more is letting the narrative drive itself. That POV, undoubtedly shared by others in the writers’ room (including MVP Elizabeth Welch), is what was responsible for the development of the Katara - Zuko friendship in the original show in the first place. It’s very, very stifling to prioritize a ship war over the actual story. Antis claim Zutara shippers create convoluted fanfic plots where other characters and relationships are downplayed in favour of their ship, but that’s exactly what happens in the canon comics wrt K/ataang. I don’t know if it’ll seem so transparent to the casual viewer, but even if the motivations aren’t obvious, the decline in quality sure will be. For the sake of my love for all Gaang-related shenanigans I hope Bryke won’t go down that road for the new movie, but…well, they’ve done pettier things.

Thanks for your question anon, and please share any of your further thoughts!

#anti Bryke #Zutara #Katara #Zuko #atla fandom critical #anti kataang #can i ask you a question?

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okaystoptellingmetomakeanaccount · 5 months ago

Text

Boo Frank Miller Scrooge jumpscare

Now that i’ve got your attention:

Here look ifnonity dime thoughts im so quick whatsoit spoilers under the cut

It was first just thoughts quickly typed but then it became more of a review so enjoy the first infinity dime review on blumber i guess

So my main gripe with the comic (aside from that its short as balls) is that they skip the most interesting part. The actual traveling through the multiverse. That was what I thought me and everyone was looking forward to. To see Scrooge traveling through the multiverse and meet his other selves and react to that. But Aaron just went nah bitch: “a few weeks later”.

We have a prologue beautifully drawn by Paolo Mottura (who even though he greatly did the atmospheric dark Christmas should have done the action sequence imo) that is available to read in the previews anyways. Then chapter 2 which is half available to read in the previews as well. Little confrontation between Scrooge and evil Scrooge or whatever which is nice and all. Then we skip to the real ‘meat’ of the story and its just a really long action sequence…. Greatly drawn by Alessandro Pastrovicchio, but still just a very long action sequence. Maybe this is very usual for Marvel, i don’t know, i haven’t really read enough Marvel comics to know what is usual, but we have what is basically a 12 page long prologue, fight fight punch punch (insert don rosa reference here) and then epilogue.

And like this could mostly be due to the short page count, but had it been longer, i wonder if we would’ve just gotten a more drawn out action sequence instead of more actual story development. Because there was a very deliberate choice made to skip ahead to the fighting and have that be the main attraction. Such a fight scene should be a nice reward at the end after a buildup that makes us feel like this action-packed climax is deserved. After we see Scrooge struggle through time and universes to get to work together with himself, we see the result of that hard work in the fight scene. We can’t just skip over the build up and plop us in a “and then they punched each other for the rest of the chapter”. The action sequence would have probably been quite nice at the end of a longer story, but right now it feels like it’s taking the place of an actual storyline.

Because the entire thing is literally: there is a bad Scrooge (very well set up though). He steals from everyone including the Scrooge we know. They find a way to get to bad Scrooge. They get to bad Scrooge. They fight bad Scrooge. They defeat bad Scrooge. It’s just, they go there, they fight him, over. Everybody clap.

Bad Scrooge himself is great. Really well set up. Is it a dumb fucking Rosa thing? Yes it is, I’m my country’s biggest Rosa stan (aside from Diederik Jekel probably) whatcha gonna do about it?

“What if? Donald and the boys never arrived on Bear mountain…” is an immaculate premise. Which, though it has been done better before, is still really cleverly utilized here. It’s also a very good showing of what we mean when we say that comic Scrooge is always one step away from being a villain. He is no different than Glomgold. One is not good and the other is not evil. One just got lucky with family. The other did not.

Then the ending needed to be wholesome and redeem bad Scrooge and uhuhejshsh but sure

rosareference.cbr loaded

You have the literal multiverse at your fingertips. Then you decide to reference Don Rosa and Don Rosa only. Which I mean wasn’t a surprise I literally predicted it in that long speculation post of mine, but it still feels like a missed opportunity. When the army of Donald’s gets send in, there isn’t even one wearing an all black and white suit. Would it have been really so difficult to get a small DT17 reference in there?

What annoys me, and I find surprising considering the enormous talent of the artists, is that all the multiverse characters look the same. Like on the last page, all the Donalds look exactly the same. There is no sense of individuality for even one of them. They give more the sense that they all came out of a cloning machine.

Even Scrooge. He traveled the entire multiverse and only got one guy who isn’t himself from a different point in time? Or maybe it’s future him, could be! Why not make it a time travel story where a Scrooge from the future has gone mad with power? Because the Scrooges we see are almost all the same. It’s a fun reference of course, but this ain’t showing multiverse. And it’s not like there aren’t already established AU versions of Scrooge. Even then, a little creativity would have still been nice. For an example of such a multiverse story I would like to point to Crisis On Infinite Darkwings, which does a phenomenal job at showing multiverse diversity. Infinity Dime wouldn’t need to do all the pop culture references Crisis does, but again, a little more creativity in the designs would not have hurt at all.

And now that i’ve been yapping for long enough anyways, let’s talk about the length too. It’s not even 30 pages. It’s 29. The artists do a good job at making it feel big and grand. No matter though how epic and great they made and could have made it. If your comic is shorter than the average Donald Duck gag comic, it’s gonna be difficult to make it feel like “his greatest adventure yet”. Then comes with that the irregular layout. There are a few double page spreads and almost all pages are just a few ‘panels’. Instead of an usual 8 or 6 panels per page (and so 8 or 6 panels to develop your story) it is usually 3 or even 1. The amount of panels make the comic even shorter than it already is. Christmas on Bear mountain will likely take you longer to read through.

Not that irregular layout is bad. I love irregular layouts! I love seeing them. Usually they really help elevating my enjoyment of a duck comic! But when you know you have a big story you want to tell, and a limited amount of pages, it is a risk to spread your story even thinner by having many big splash pages where the pretty drawing takes front and center instead of the story.

Then it makes it EVEN SHORTER because there is not a lot of dialogue. Mostly because half of it is action without that much talking. There is a pretty fun way of using the narrator boxes. They are quite melodramatic but I like em.

Jason Aaron’s introductory page was very sweet.

Regardless of the quality of this story, I really, really hope that these kinds of releases continue. It was very fun and special to read something like this.

If these do continue, I would absolutely love an actual comic series. A longer continuing story please! Pretty please? This page count is just not enough to tell stories like these and more pages to properly flesh out things would be absolutely wonderful. I’m personally not that looking forward to the upcoming Marvel parodies, but if original stories continued, it would be the first American comic series I followed.

I cannot overstate enough how much I want more Marvel Disney comics actually. I need them. I get what people mean now on here when they say “going absolutely feral”. I feel it.

Oh and apparently I have 100 followers now on this blog so that’s nice. Consider this the celebratory post! My review of my most anticipated comic. To end it look at the only Mangiatordi pages in here because looking at Mangiatordi art makes all well

Damn actually this one isnt even that good what happened Vitale- sorry no great comic more please marvel disney

#disney comics #ducktales #uncle scrooge and the infinity dime spoilers #uncle scrooge and the infinity dime #infinity dime spoilers #infinity dime #uncle scrooge #scrooge mcduck

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