#Pizza Capital of the World | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrsrdlw · 2 months

Text

My valentine

Summary: You and your best friend found a way to get away from all the valentine’s day by doing your own program. But, being alone for a long time only meant you two were horny and needy for affection.

wc: 3.3k (i got a little excited writing it, sorry)

warnings: friends to lovers; smut!!! +18 please (you’re responsible for yourself babe, but i warned you); fluff; masturbation (m!reciving); inexperienced!femreader. Tell if something is missing.

authors note: I know i’m a little late with valentines thing but i couldn’t help myself. I really liked the result and i hope you do too. It’s a new thing writing smutty things but i hope it’s not terrible. <3

*update*- i just posted a part two!

**********

It was valentine’s day and you felt like you were the loneliest person in the world. Everyone was with their partners when you were all by yourself. Of course you were being dramatic but you were tired of having to pretend that it was okay to be single because you don’t needed a boy to make you happy. But you wanted to.

The same thing happened to your best friend. Eddie was all by himself. He was never the guy the girls would die for. They were too scared to see how pretty he was. But he also had been feeling kind of alone. He would walk in the market and see all the decorations he hated so much. Not only in school, everywhere, people would be all over each other. He always hated valentine’s day but he never knew that was because of his jealousy and would always blame in the capitalism and its ways to persuade people.

As you both would be alone, to distract you from thinking about couples making out, you created your own thing. You would go at each other’s house to watch movies together, eat junk food and talk about stuff. For two years you’ve been doing this and this year was your time being a host. At this time, you got lucky your parents weren’t home for the week. In the first year, you brought Eddie home and your mom kept asking non stop questions about him and how did you finally realized you were made for each other.

“You’re late.” You opened the door for him, taking the boxes off his hands.

“I’m sorry my lady, is my butler work not good enough for you?” He said in a english accent mocking you. “There was a lot of people ordering pizzas too. They copied our idea.”

“Fine. I just took the cookies out of the oven.” You pointed to the baking sheet “What movies did you pick?”

“Well, let’s see.There is the movie you asked for with the cats”

“Did you take the right one? Or just some movie about a cat?”

“Is the Disney one, right? The Aristocats? I got this one, nightmare on elm street and fast times at ridgemont high.” Eddie only took this last one because Steve said ’there’s some very interesting scenes about a girl, if you know what i mean’. Of course Eddie knew the girl’s titties would show up, he’d never watched it because he thought it would be a shitty movie. “If i want to see boobs i’ll just watch porn or i’ll buy a magazine” he would say. But he really thought about it and that would be the only way to make you watch something like that with him.

Once he asked if girls watched porn and you just ignored the question. He wanted to see your reaction and he knew you would never watch something like that, let alone with a guy. It would be the closest thing to porn you’d watch.

Also it was a secret to no one that he had a little massive crush on you. Maybe it was a secret only for you. Eddie don’t even know when did it started. One day you were just a girl who he was friends with but suddenly you were much more then that. You were hot, interesting, cute, smart and he couldn’t help but be enamored with you. But he never did anything to change that, to afraid of making you run away from him. To him, in that situation, your relationship as friends was more important. He wouldn’t stand to lose you. So he buried his feelings deep down and pretended it that never happened.

“Eddie it’s not Halloween. We’re not watching that, you know i can’t sleep afterwards.”

“Alright, no horror movies” He discarded the movie

“So is gonna be aristocats and this other movie. Is this even good? I never saw it.” Of course you saw it. Since Dustin told you guys his girlfriend was a hotter version of Phoebe Cates you had to. You scolded him after.

“It was on the recommendation board so we’ll have to trust in that”

********

Eddie had never seen the Disney movie before. It was for kids but you always loved it since you were a little kid. And if you loved, he’d watch it for you (he would not admit but he loved it too). There you were in the second movie. You had seen it two years ago so you were focused on the movie. But with that, you forgot about the boobs

“Oh…” Your cheeks got red. Seeing that by yourself was ok. But right by Eddie’s side, you got embarrassed and tried not to look at the tv in front of you. In the meantime, he was looking at you to see your reaction.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen” He said trying to sound like he was surprised

“Don’t worry, i see this every day.”

Eddie didn’t payed attention in the movie anymore. Were you talking about porn?

When the movie ended you went to bed and Eddie came with you. Being friends for a long time made you so accustomed to be around each other that now you would insist that he would sleep with you in your bed and not on the couch.

He would not sleep if he kept the question to himself. He had to ask.

“Good night Eds. Thanks for today. It was really nice!”

“Sure sweetheart, i had a good time too!”

And the place got quiet. It was now or never.

“Hey… can i ask you something?”

You just hummed

“Well… Earlier, when we were watching the movie you said that you would see it everyday when we saw the girl’s titties. With that do you… you know, d’ya mean you see boobs everyday in like, porn?”

“What? Why would you say that?” You said looking at his face even though the room was dark

“I don’t know why it just came in my head like, come on!”

“Eddie… i’m a girl. I see them everyday because i have them. Just like every woman. Go sleep, will ya.”

Eddie don’t know if that make it better or worse. Not that he didn’t know you had boobs. Of course you had. But now, you had boobs, you’d watch them and everything came to Eddie as a movie. Or as a dream in witch it really did. Right by your side, in your bed, in your house. Eddie had a wet dream about you. I wasn’t the first time. But it was in you house, close to you. Till then, he was sleeping and his mind was working on making him hard by the images of you touching your boobs while you were fucked by him.

You had woken up first, not realizing his morning wood, you went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen to take a glass of water and came back. But now he’d moved and, in his sweatpants, his “situation” was pretty obvious.

That scared the shit out of you. What would you do? Should you go back to sleep? Or try to pretend you never saw it. You weren’t a boy, but that seemed to be very uncomfortable. Suddenly you got hot. Seeing his dick poking out in his pants, his bare torso shown by his shirt that was lifted up. His wild hair that framed his face. Of course you knew you had feelings for Eddie, but you never did anything to let him know. It was a secret only for you and you only. You couldn’t do anything about your best friend. Even if he had a boner and got you all worked up.

He started to move around and to wake up when he saw you sitting on the bed and looking at the ceiling. Before saying anything he felt it. “Holy fuck!” that’s what he thought. He started to panic. Did you saw it. Would he be fast enough to run to the bathroom and try to work on it. “No, you shithead, you can’t jerk in her bathroom”

You realize his movements and looked at him. You knew that he knew you knew. Now the blanket were covering him.

“Mornin” He said casually and you nodded you head, trying not to lend your eyes on his cock to see if you could still see his bulge. “You saw it, right?”

“Saw what? I-I just woke up!” You said a little to fast “I mean, i barely opened my eyes and- yeah, i saw it.” you stopped when you saw his expressions getting amused. If you already saw it, there wasn’t a reason to be concerned anymore.

“Don’t worry, that happens sometimes” he said as if he didn’t have any dreams. It was just normal

“What? Out of nowhere?”

“Yeah, sort of…” He said remembering you in his dream and resisting the urge to touch his cock

“Can’t you like, turn it off or something”

He laughed at you face. You were getting more and more uncomfortable and in the same time, a bit horny. “It’s not like the tv we watched last night. You can’t turn it off.”

“But…” You saw his face. He was looking at you “I don’t get it”

“Well, i don’t know how to explain it” He tried to sound confident about it “It’s like when your nipples get hard when you women get cold. It not a thing you control” That part was true. He couldn’t control his dick or his mind so he wouldn’t find you attractive.

“But it seems to be painful” You said looking at him getting up.

“It is a little. I’ll go to the bathroom to try to ‘turn it off’” He said giggling

“Wait Eddie!” He turned to you and now you could see how big he was. Even with his pants, it was visible. “You don’t have to do it by yourself. Can i do something? Like, can i help you?”

Eddie froze in place. He would go take a cold shower and have thoughts about random things that wasn’t you. He was not going to masturbate in there. Was he still dreaming?

“Sorry! Oh i’m so so sorry. I don’t know what i was thinking about” You regret when you saw how his face got to serious.

“No no no. Don’t be sorry. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He sat again looking at you cover your face “I mean, we’re friends. Last time i checked, friends don’t usually give a handy to other friends.”

“I’m so fucking stupid and embarrassingly alone that i let this stupid date get in my mind. I don’t know…”

“Were you willing to do it? For real?” He was really curious to know if you would jerk him off. That had to mean something, right?

“I’m sorry, it’s fucking crazy!” Hugging your knees, you looked at him and forced your arms to open

“Come on, don’t be so harsh. Were you?”

You nodded to scared of his reactions to your horny attitudes

“I thought you were virgin and said you were inexperienced in everything”

“It can’t be that hard” You whispered and looked at his eyes. Those pleading eyes that were begging to go back in time but were just reassuring Eddie that the shower would not ‘turn it off’ anymore.

“What if i said i wanted you to do it, huh? Would that be to weird?”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. Now he was asking you to do it. Was it to weird? Maybe a little, but only because you never did it before and because it was your best friend.

“I don’t know Eddie… I think you just as crazy as me” He laughed at that

“I might be a little. But it’s a good thing” You were feeling more comfortable now. It was your Eddie again and not some guy you had a crush on. “I know what you’re thinking. But, don’t you think i never wondered how would it be to kiss you? You are the most amazing friend i could have and with that comes this feeling too. But i don’t want to lose you. You’re to important for me”

“You too. Honestly i’d be lost without you. But i also wonder how would it be, you know…”

You kept looking at him and he did the same. You were making sure that it was the right thing to do. The he closed the gap between you two. Bodies bonding and connecting to each other. Your lips were so soft. Eddie was sure he was in his dream now. His hands that before was holding your face, now went to your back, caressing your waist. And your hands ran from his shoulders to his hair, tugging some locks of it and making him groan.

Things heated up and he pulled you to his lap. His bulge was now touching your crotch. With his hands on your waist, he took advantage of that and encouraged you to move back and forth making you feel so good. The friction was perfect. His lips were perfect. The way he was kissing you like he waited his whole life for it. Separating to breathe, you leaned on him, your foreheads touching, but your movements continued slightly.

“For a very inexperienced girl, you’re a hell of a kisser. Damn, are you sure you’re telling the truth?” He said panting with his eyes closed and his lips curled to a smile. You smiled back

“Yeah, i assure you. Don’t make me feel like i’m too good though. I’m gonna get too cocky.”

“Tell that to him” He pressed you down on him and, once again, you felt his hard dick. ‘How can it be so hard?’ you thought

“Can i take of your pants?” you asked a little scared

“Sure thing, sweetheart” He was smiley. He helped you to take it off and wow. You were a little shocked. It was big. You thought about it for a second and you honestly thought he was not average.

“Can i say something too?” He nodded while he pulled you back to him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now but i just wanted to tell you so you don’t have any expectations. I don’t even know if you have any-” You were talking super fast, Eddie had to shut you up with a kiss. “Sorry. I was saying that, i think i still need some time, you know, if you want to have actual sex.”

“It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here”

“But i really wanted to do this. To help you here.” You said running your hand from his chest to his lower belly and his cock twitched. You wasn’t expecting that to happen “Is this normal” He nodded and giggled

“Are you sure you want to do it? You know, i’m not proud to say it, but have jerked off before. Plenty of times actually. If you’re not comfortable doing it, it’s not a problem for me to do it by myself.” It was melting your heart in the way he was talking to you. Caring about you.

“Yes i am! I’m just… insecure about it. I don’t know how to-.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how, alright?” It was you time to nod you head. “A’right then. First thing, we need it to be wet, so you’ll have to spit on you hand.”

You hesitated but gathered a good amount of saliva on your mouth and spited on your hand.

“That’s right. Very good. Now you can wrap your hand around it” You just didn’t know where to. Was he talking about the tip or the base. You went for the tip.

Groaning low, he cleared his throat “Good girl. Now you can just make some circles around the tip and then go down.” You did what you were told to and that seemed to work. Your foreheads, that were glued to this time, separated a little before he came back. Both of you looking at your hand moving around his red tip leaking pre cum.

“Is that normal?”

“It means it’s fucking good” Even his voice changed. It was getting rougher and lower.

“Can you guide me a little. I’m scared i’ll squeeze you too hard” you said and his hand wrapped around yours.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s better when is tight. I’ll let you know if it’s to much” He let you do it by yourself when you got the right rhythm and grip.

Your hand were moving tightly up and down. You didn’t know if it was there before, you didn’t notice because you were to focus, but his hands were squeezing your tights hard. You could feel your panties getting soaked. How come you were excited by jerking him off.

More of the liquid you saw before came out and you ran your thumb over it. He let out a moan that rambled inside you body.

“Can you, please, go a little faster than that” And that’s what you did. The moan you heard was the first of many others that came along. You had gathered, again, more saliva and thought that it would be nice to be even wetter than it was. So you separated a little from him, looking at his confused eyes trying to read you. You separated enough to bend down and to spit on it again, looking at his eyes roll back, throwing his head back. You came back to your position, proud that you did something good without him telling you.

Your movements got faster than before and he, restless panting, kissed you. You wanted to make him cum hard. So you separated the kiss, kept up the speed, flashing him your boobs. That was the final push for Eddie.

The way he grabbed you and moan at your ear was insanely hot. You watched ropes of cum come of his dick. Your hand were now with white and sticky cum.

“Holy fucking shit!” He panted for the last time and let go of his grip on you. “Are you really sure you’re inexperienced?”

“I might’ve heard some advice about it from some friends” You said getting out of his lap, but he stopped you

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve been up here for a while, i don’t want to hurt your legs. Besides, my hand is a little dirty.” He laughed a little

“Let’s clean up and come back here then.”

That’s what you did. When you came back, he pulled you to his chest and you started to talk.

“You know, i got hard because i had a wet dream about you. Probably because of the movie. But you were in a bikini like hers and, well… you know the rest.”

“Really? What a perv.” You laughed together. You couldn’t be more happy to let this felling out of your chest. You didn’t know for how long you could keep that from him.

“What i mean is that, i really hope you don’t think that i’m doing this just because i was hard and you were there to help. I like you, not in a friend way and, if you let me, i would like to make you my girlfriend one day, if you want. For real. Take you out to dates, stay together doing whatever the shit we’ll want, give you things that i know you will love. This kinda shit.”

“If you want to, i would love to be your girlfriend. And all of the things you mentioned. Well… you know, you already do all of that. The sex is new though.”

He laughed and kissed you passionately

“Great. Now, you’ll get see how much fun we’re gonna have” You spent the rest of your valentine’s day like this. Laughing and kissing each other.

984 notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 9 months

Text

Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You🃏

Chapter 1 of That's What You Get

Next Chapter

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise one of those sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs. Reid.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, loss of memory, marriage (yeah that needs a warning), mommy issues, mentions of emotional abuse, implied sex scene, use of handcuffs in a sexual way, they theorize a possible creampie but I will neither confirm nor deny at this point, talk of contraception, no actual smut though, you guys are gonna have to wait for that. 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: The first chapter is here! Sorry for drawing you in with a silly little premise and then giving you mommy issues, I swear that after this chapter it's not bought up all that much. If you enjoy this chapter, you can sign up to the series taglist here, check out my masterlist and if you want leave a request! :D have fun reading!! ✨

Las Vegas, city of sin and entertainment capital of the world. Population approximately 600,000, home to the most famous casinos in the world, and unluckily for you, your latest unsub.

You’d been in Vegas for three weeks trying to hunt down this specific murderer, but now the case was all wrapped up and you could finally breathe, the weight of the stress you’d been carrying for almost a month now dissolving as you finally finished up the paperwork in the local precinct.

“Thank god that’s over. I cannot wait to be in bed with a good book and an empty head,” you groaned as you met the eyes of Penelope Garcia, your favorite tech analyst in the entire world and absolutely the only one you knew. She’d ended up having to join you on this case because some of the crime scenes just happened to be casinos that weren’t so happy sharing their data, but also didn’t want to be lumped with the warrant from the FBI. She’d been working between their offices and the precinct, and looked just as haggard as you felt.

“Oh, I feel you sister, this free travel experience thing is nice, but I would like to be back at my own perfect little desk hovel ASAP, thank you very much.” The two of you shared a small laugh, and then began collecting your stuff.

“Come on now, baby girl, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hit up the strip while we’re here? See the sights a little?”

“Sweet cheeks, I have been working from the most harrowing of surveillance units all week on that very strip. I have already seen the sights and they were not pretty, and definitely not worth using up my precious vacation time for.”

“Unfortunately Garcia, I don’t think you’ll be needing to use any of that vacation time to stay here,” Hotch announced as he walked in, and every member of your team snapped to attention to hear what he had to say. “I just got off the phone with Quantico, there’s a storm cloud moving in directly in our flight path and we haven’t been cleared for take off. They’re extending our stay by another day.”

“Shit,” you let out a silent curse, and noticed that your other team members didn’t seem all that happy about it either. JJ quickly excused herself from the room to call Will, Garcia let out a faux sob and fell back into her chair, and Rossi had the look of abject Italian disappointment on his face that he usually only got when you talked about your love of pineapple on pizza.

“How’s about that drink now, baby girl?” Derek Morgan teased, but it was half-hearted and you knew it. You were all desperate for bed, and you could only imagine the mistakes you would make if you went drinking now after the month you’d all just survived.

The only member of the team who didn’t seem put out quite yet was Reid, but you chalked that up to the fact that this place was his hometown.

“If you guys do change your mind, I know a bar downtown where you’re 34% less likely to be propositioned, robbed or over-charged.” He smiled over at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle knowing the man was 100% serious.

“Dare I ask how you found that statistic, Reid?” Emily inquired from the other corner.

“One part actually reading the annual crime report, one part personal experience?” Reid replied, and you laughed again, unable to hold it back.

“Count me out, thank you,” you replied, and you could have sworn for a second you saw a flash of disappointment flash over his features, but you didn’t get the chance to question it, because a call was lighting up your phone screen.

You quickly excused yourself and moved to pick up the call from your mother.

“Mom, hey, what’s up?”

“What, I can’t check in on my daughter now for no reason?” you sighed and rubbed your temples, knowing exactly how this phone call was going to go, because it was how the last ten calls home had.

“Yes, mom, of course you can. How are you?”

“Terrible. Cindy’s daughter is getting married, and it’s all she’s talking about now. Can you believe it? The girl was absolutely wild when you were friends with her in high school and now she’s settling down with a lawyer of all people. Someone should warn that young man before he realises what he’s got himself into,” she scoffed on the other end of the line and you did your best to not get worked up. If you got angry it only made her more self-richeous.

“I know, Mom, Jessica sent me an invite, and I’m sure Trevor knows exactly what he’s getting into since they’ve been dating since high school.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never tell me anything.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m in the middle of a case right now, can I call you back later?” You did your best to escape the conversation before it devolved into something you really didn’t want to talk about, like yourself, and more specifically your love life. But the gorgon had you frozen through the line and you weren’t about to make the mistake of hanging up on her.

“I’m sure your boss could spare you for five minutes, over-working you like he does. You haven’t had the time off to come and visit me since you got that fancy little job of yours, so you can do me this favor at least.”

“Sure, mom.” At times like this, you knew it was best to just let her talk and ride out the wave.

“And I’m sure you don’t even have time to date. Are you taking care of yourself, at least? Making sure you’re at least presentable, I hope? Its like I always say, you could meet your future husband in one of those precincts, you know. Get a big, strong man to take care of you.”

You had to resist the urge to throw your phone. You’d explained to your mother time and time again that you were perfectly content being the big, strong man for yourself, but there was absolutely no getting through to her. You received one of these phone calls everytime one of her friends or coworkers kids announced an engagement, got pregnant or bought a house, three things that she was desperate for you to do, as well. As soon as you saw the instagram post from Jessica you’d been counting down the days, almost thankful for your mothers lack of online presence.

“A crime scene isn’t exactly the most charming of meet cutes, Mom.”

“Well, then what about Virginia? There are some fine men working at the FBI surely. What about that one coworker of yours, what was his name?” Your heart-race increased for a moment, praying she wasn’t about to put a thought in your head that you wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Derek Morgan, was it? Now, that’s a fine young man.” This time you couldn’t stop the startled cry that came from your mouth. Sure, Morgan was an incredibly attractive man, but he’d joked around with you like a brother ever since you’d taken down your first unsub with the team. Your team was your family and your support system on the road, and they had your back on the case, so really, had your mother said anything, you’d have responded with incredulous guffawing. Hotch was like your dad, Rossi a fun Great-Uncle or something. You saw the sister’s you’d never had in JJ and Emily and of course Garcia was your best friend and you shared so many likes and dislikes that you regularly joked about being long-lost twins separated at birth. And Reid was Reid.

“Just give dating some thought, would you at least? The clock is ticking for you, you know.”

“Mom, I’m not even thirty yet. I’m in no rush.”

“That's what your Aunt Linda said, and look at her.” Your Aunt Linda was a perfectly content single woman in her late forties who had a high paying executive job, in NYC of all places, so yeah, you were in no rush at all.

“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go, Hotch is calling me into the office to talk about some case files. I’ll speak to you later?”

“God, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to your mother for even five minutes. Go on, then, go do your big fancy job. Call me soon.”

“Yeah, Mom, I will.” And with that you finally hung up. Running a hand through your hair you paused for a breath for a second, closing your eyes and letting your hand just grip your hair for a second before releasing your breath for a second.

In the grand scheme of things, you knew that your mom wasn’t all that much to complain about. You and Emily had bonded over your respective mommy issues early in your time on the team, and you knew a lot of the other team members were either lacking some family member or the other, so you were just thankful that she was still around to annoy you, but god did she make it difficult sometimes.

Realising that any second, you’d have one profiler or the other come find you and ask you (with the best of intentions) what was wrong, you plastered a smile on your face and walked back into the office. You didn’t exactly want to relive that call anytime soon.

“Back so soon, Y/N? I thought that was your mom,” Morgan questioned you when you stepped back in.

“Yeah it was. One of my friends from highschool is getting married and you know how she loves to gossip.” You’d learnt early in the profession that you were in that the best way to hide something was to tell the truth about it for as long as you could, and then change the subject.

“Hey, Reid, you still up for a drink at that bar?” You looked hopefully at the man in the corner, and prayed noone would bring up your absolute change in attitude. “I was thinking a glass of wine or two after a successfully closed case couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Yeah, sure. You wanna head back to the hotel first and change, or do you want to go from here? Hotch said we’re free now until 2pm tomorrow.” You could see a questioning look from Morgan to your left, but you kept your vision focused on Reid, quietly thankful for the rest of the teams disinterest.

“Give me five to drop off my badge and gun in my room and freshen up a bit and we can be on our way. If this bar is bad though, Reid, you know I’m never letting you hear the end of it, right?”

“I ran the statistics, there’s only a 14% chance you’ll dislike it.”

“You know what’s scary is, I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

–x–

Sarcasm or no, you had to admit, the bar he’d taken you to was pretty nice. It was a low-lit bar only a twenty minute taxi ride from your hotel and whilst it wasn’t exactly on the strip, it wasn’t so far out to be inconvenient. The best part about it was that it was lined with bookshelves, and each booth was blocked off by another, making it feel more like a library than a watering hole. You almost forgot you were in Vegas when you stepped in.

“Yeah, this is definitely a Spencer Reid place,” you said as you took the final swig of your wine, the glass you’d ordered on arrival having gone down easier than you’d expected.

“How so?” Spencer said as he returned to your table, carrying the replacement drinks he’d gone to order with him.

“Come on, Spencer. I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment but I’m sure it’s just this place with less furniture and more books.”

“Y/L/N, are you profiling me right now? Because that sounds pretty close to profiling?” Spencer teased and you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your next drink from him and giving it a stir - the wine was good but at the price per glass you’d decided maybe cocktails were the thing for tonight.

“Besides, you did mention wanting to curl up with a book tonight, so I thought this bar was probably a good fit for you too.”

“Whose profiling who now, Doctor?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took a sip of his drink. You knew he didn’t drink that often, but he seemed pretty open to the idea tonight, and you were absolutely glad for the company.

“Okay, I won’t profile if you don’t, but do you mind me asking you a question, Y/N?”

“Fire away,” you were playing with the stirrer in your cocktail, waiting for him to ask the question but he’d hesitated for a moment before speaking again, causing you to look up directly into his eyes.

“What’s going on with you and your mom? I don’t mean to pry and I didn’t overhear any of your call earlier or anything, but when you came in again you were all tense and you had that strained smile on your face. Then you suddenly changed your mind and decided we should get drinks so, I’m just guessing here, but you could probably do with talking about it, right?”

You let out a groan and let your head hang a bit. Yeah, you were starting to regret taking that role in the team of profilers. But at least Reid was sincere, and you knew his intentions were good. Of all the members of the team, you’d probably have described him as the safest. It was strange to think, considering all the comfort you found in your other friends, but there was just something so reassuring about Reid’s presence, the way most people overlooked him at first, how he could easily fall into his work and how you could see the cogs moving in his head as he made one genius leap to another that just made you think that everything was going to be okay if he was there.

So because it was him, you decided to talk.

“She’s just…She’s just a little much sometimes, you know?” He smiled back a knowing smile, but didn’t try to add anything and encouraged you to keep going.

“She’s been really persistent recently in bothering me about hitting some of lifes big milestones - marriage, kids, you know? And it always leaves me in a panic because though I’m pretty sure I want those things just yet, I don’t want the pressure of having them yet.” You swallowed the bile in your thoat and continued

“Everytime she says something, I feel bad that I don’t have them. And the way she talks about them its like they’re some kind of… of personal failure, that I’m not trying hard enough to catch a man or something, and I just wonder what if she’s right?” You start slow but you feel yourself gaining pace as you begin rambling, by the end you’re left wondering if Reid even caught any of that.

“I’m perfectly content living alone, but what if I’m secretly not, and I end up forty and alone and can’t even get a guy to look at me.”

“I can pretty confidently say that that’s not going to happen, Y/N.” Reid replied when you finally grabbed your drink ready to take another sip.

“How come?”

“You won’t have to put any effort into catching a man, Y/N.” Reid replied.

“You’re saying that because you’re my friend and you care about me Reid, of course you think that.”

“No, I’m saying that as an FBI Profiler that’s noticed the barman, the man on a date in the corner and the group of guys smoking outside the door eye you up since we’ve been here. And considering we’ve been doing paperwork all day, and the only change in your appearance since 8am this morning was the fresh coat of chapstick you put on while we were in the taxi, I’d think you hadn’t really put that much thought into what you look like right now.”

“You’re exaggerating,” and you really believe that, until you turn to look at the guy on the date and see him avert his gaze from you quickly, and you realise there might be something in what he’s saying.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t mean that I need or want to hear those things from my mother.”

“Y/N, take it from me, mother’s can be complicated.”

“God, I feel so stupid talking to you about something so trivial with my mom, I shouldn’t be doing that, we’re here to have fun.”

“Y/N, its okay. I can do the mommy issues talks, I’m perfectly qualified, but…” he trails off and grabs his drink for another sip and you find yourself hanging off his words begging for him to bring you more comfort and spoken caresses.

“But what, Reid?” you finally ask, as you realise he’s dragging this out on purpose to tease you a little.

“But how about a distraction instead? Have you ever been in a Las Vegas casino with a man that is banned from gambling in most of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little as he asked that and you giggled again, grateful for the reprieve from the serious talk.

“That doesn’t sound all that fun, Spencer.”

“Oh yeah, it’s not, but we could always use those vouchers we got as a token of appreciation earlier in the bars and drink some pretty fancy alcohol?”

“Spencer Reid, you are finally speaking my language.”

“I’m still speaking English Y/N, but if you wanted me to switch to russian or some other language, I could accommodate that depending on your linguistic preference.”

“It was a joke, Spence, now let’s get out of here.”

With that, he stood and dramatically offered you his hand like a gentleman, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow when you took it and guiding you swiftly out of the sweet bar. You were with Spencer, your safe friend, close work colleague and probably the least likely member of the BAU Team to get into trouble in a bar in Vegas. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, as you took a final step out into the humid night air of Las Vegas.

–X–

The first thing you noticed in the morning was the pounding in your head, and it was pretty much the only thing you noticed for quite some time. When you managed to finally unglue your eyes, the second thing you noticed that this definitely wasn’t your room. The third thing you noticed was the gaping hole in your memories that explained how you possibly could’ve ended up wherever it was that you were. Or really any memories from the night before at all.

Letting out a quick groan you sit up in bed and take stock of your surroundings. Although the layout is different, you quickly recognise the interior matches the hotel you’ve been staying at, so you’re thankful that you’re at least somewhere relatively safe, and most likely in familiar company. The room looks to be neat on the whole, but there’s obvious signs of a drunken escapade strewn everwhere - two champagne flutes and a drained bottle, the contents of your purse spilt onto the chair in the corner, some random balloons in the corner you must have picked up somewhere in a drunken stupor, your clothes discarded in a trail to the bed.

That last one wakes you up a little bit more, and almost embarrassingly, you look down at yourself and see your lack of clothing, pulling the covers of the quilt closer to you as you feel yourself flush.

Fuck.

There’s a shifting in the bed next to you, and you look down in horror to see exactly which member of your team got you so plastered last night. You try to move to see who it is, but theres a tightness around your wrist and you’re pulled right back down into bed. You look down at your arm, and that’s when you realise you’re really screwed.

There, around your wrist and restraining you against the bed, is a set of handcuffs. FBI standard. The insinuation flames your face as you whip around to see which close friend and coworker you maybe - possibly - hooked up with last night, too embarrassed to look at your hand any more.

Luckily, your mystery man shifts again, and you catch sight of the nest of brown curls right before he turns over to see you, so when you finally meet the eye of Doctor Spencer Reid, you don’t scream in surprise.

“Y/N? What are you doi-” he cuts himself off as he lets his eyes trail down your body, quickly noticing your state of undress and pulling himself up into a seated position. He is similarly disrobed and it takes all of your strength to pull your gaze away from his bare chest to look literally anywhere else, your face practically flaming now.

“Spencer, would you mind helping me out over here?” you manage to squeak out quickly, as he does his best to avoid your eyes. “I seem to be a little stuck?”

That draws his attention back to you, and he finally notices the strange position of your arms and the handcuffs keeping you pinned to that spot in the bed.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he quickly pulls on the pants he discarded by his side of the bed and scrambles over to you, tripping over once in his haste.

“Do you know where the key is?” you ask as he arrives at your side again, your free hand clutching the sheets over your breasts like your life depended on it.

“If that’s my pair they should be in the safe in the nightstand with my creds, give me a second to look.” After a second, he reaches the aforementioned safe box, pulling it open. He roots around inside it for a few seconds and then he spots something ad you watch the blood drain from his face.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you spit out quickly, tongue still heavy, and lips probably still swollen, from the night before, so you trip over the words a little. He pulls out the keys from the draw, and you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re still tense as he reaches back inside the draw and pulls out something else.

“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, still staring intently at whatever else is in his hands. You try to angle your head to look, but between the restraints and the fact that Reid had turned his back to you couldn’t quite see what it was.

“What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.

Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.

“I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.

“Y/N I think we got married last night.”

For a second you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. This was not happening, not to you, not right now. How stupidly drunk could you have gotten to have actually gone and married someone you weren’t even dating. And considering your current lack of clothing, it was dawning on you that you had probably done a little bit more than what was in that photo.

“Spencer unlock these handcuffs right now, so help me God,” you breathed deep and screwed your eyes shut, hoping that wihtout the distraction of the glaring lights you’d be able to remember some of what you’d done last night, but nothing came to you.

Reid, for what it was worth, got you unlocked quickly. You winced slightly as you pulled your arm away from the position it’d been in for however many hours.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have undone those last night, I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m usually pretty good at remembering stuff like that.” Reid rambled, running a hand through his hair and pacing slightly at your side of the bed. You pushed yourself up and watched him for a minute, just looking at this man who was now, probably, your husband.

Your husband.

You shook the thought from your head and cut his rambling off quickly.

“You put me in these?” you asked, just desperate for any clarification on any of the events of the last 24 hours, not fully grasping the implications of what you were asking until Reid was looking down at you with a flushed face and a mouth gaping like a fish, struggling to find the words to say.

“This is my hotel room. Those are my handcuffs… I kind of just assumed…” he trailed off the thought and you were right with him, the embarrassment heating your face just as much as it had his. You found it hard to meet his eyes the, and dropped yours to your lap.

“So you don’t remember, either?” You almost sighed in relief at that. If even a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory was in this state after a night of drinking, then you really couldn’t be blamed for getting so drunk you married your coworker and most likely had some pretty kinky sex with him, remembering absolutely nothing on top of that at all.

“Do you need me to grab you something to wear?” he asked as he looked down at you, letting his gaze trail probably a little bit too low for a little bit too long. You grew heated under his stare, as your body reacted, and you realised how easy it must have been to fall underneath him last night if this was how you were feeling from just one look.

But you pulled yourself out of those thoughts quickly, and it seemed that so did he, as he began grabbing clothes from the floor and handing them to you, turning away as you started getting yourself into a semi-decent state.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you heard Reid mumble to himself as he made his way around the side of the bed, and in your concern for him, you called out.

“Anything specific those curses were for, Spence? Because I know this isn’t exactly the most ideal situation, but four Spencer Reid swears in a row is a cause for concern.” You tried to joke, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety of your predicament.

“I can’t find…” he started and then dragged a hand over his face, trying to wipe the exhaustion from his eyes. “Y/N, I think we didn’t use protection.” You could see him panicking now, and for a second you thought of joining him too, but you crossed the room and grabbed his arms.

“Spencer, look at me, it’s fine. If we did end up… doing that, I’m on birth control, and we probably have time to grab something extra just to make sure, right?” he looked down at you then and after a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m so stupid for suggesting we go to that casino bar last night, I don’t know what I was thinking. You even said last night that this wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, right now, god I’m an idiot, you don’t deserve this.” He buried his face in your neck and held you tight, and you pulled yours up to his back, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.

“Spencer, listen to me. I can think of noone I would have rather had a shotgun Vegas marriage with, okay? This isn’t your fault, we were both drunk, and I’m sure a Reid who was thinking straight could give me some kind of statistic about inhibitions dropping with a certain amount of alcohol.”

“A study in the United Kingdom found that there was an increase of risky sexual behavior in young people who had participated in binge drinking, including unprotected sex with a new partner and the use of emergency contraceptives and I’m not sure why I’m still talking when that was probably rhetorical, right?” You smiled at his panic, finding him just as endearing as ever, even in this predicament.

“What I’m saying, Spencer, is that we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten married in Vegas on a whim. Hell, this isn’t even the first time it’s happened to someone on our team. In a sense, this was a very traditional wedding.”

He groaned into your neck again and you laughed up at him. Sure, you were panicked still, but just having him in your arms there sharing his honest feelings with you instead of bottling it up and leaving you to deal with it on your own in your head too was doing you a world of good, and you found the words you used to reassure him soothing you, too, in turn.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. One, find the nearest pharmacy. Two, find whatever Elvis-inspired love shack wrote that marriage license and figure out if it’s actually legally binding. Three, avoid all of our coworkers until 2pm. How does that sound?”

Reid pulled himself out of your neck then, and you were almost sad at the loss of that warmth near you.

“It sounds like I made the smartest choice of a wife I was ever going to make,” he smiled down at you.

“Oh you got jokes now, Doc? I see.”

“Thought I should let you know all my deep dark secrets now we’re married.” You shared a laugh, and standing there amongst the debris of the night before, despite all the mistakes, you knew you were safe, and that the two of you would always be safe together.

🏷️ @sailortongue @bethanyhaas01 @reidscaffeine @high-functioning-cosplayer @average-sunflower @multifandom-on-the-side @anniewhalelover @prentissesredtanktop @abbyshmaby @academiareid @hugyourlungs @w-windy @babybluecakes @SwaggySagieWagie@reidandhotchsgirl @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @Zaapsite @daddy-dotcom @bluecandycake

2K notes · View notes

unpretty · 5 months

Text

please imagine these bullet points as a series of posts made over the course of a semester in 2015, copied from the tumblr tag i made specifically to bitch about my econ/business government and society professor:

lmao econ prof arguing against the fda

we are also supposed to subscribe to the wall street journal for this class ahahaha like hell

I spoke up about this godawful climate change article and about how literally every fact I tried to check was wrong, he tried to argue that wasn’t the point of the article but it totally was

“Does anyone watch Fox News” this class in a nutshell

the professor in the class i hate is talking about how jesus would love capitalism because it has lifted so many people out of poverty

he’s complaining about progressive income tax lmao god i hate this class

LET THE FREE MARKET DECIDE unless the free market makes an anti-corporate decision, then consumers have been misinformed and the activists responsible should be ashamed of themselves

I hope everyone’s ready for Shitty Class Liveblogging because now he’s claiming that gas prices will never go back up and gas will always be cheap from now on and also peak oil is a lie

Now he’s talking about the story of Jonah and the whale as relates to this article he saw in the Wall Street Journal. Across the class, I see a girl squint into the middle distance and mouth the word, “what.”

“is it okay to fire a pizza delivery person who doesn’t want to drive to a bad neighborhood”

this is the literal worst and most bullshit explanation of utilitarianism I have ever experienced oh my god. for the purposes of this class we are supposed to ignore ‘for the greatest number’ as an aspect of utilitarianism. just. completely altering the basic foundation of utilitarianism as an idea. apparently the free market didn’t like the actual definition so they changed it.

THIS PROFESSOR IS PRO-ENRON I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING RIGHT NOW THIS IS A REAL THING #FREE MARKET IT WAS LEGAL FREE MARKET

“I don’t think we have very many people in the United States dying because they couldn’t afford medication” actual quote from this professor right now

lmao i’m in the class i hate, he’s complaining about net neutrality now

This just in: poor people are poor because they make bad decisions, the wealth gap can be eliminated by teaching poor people how to play the stock market. This is a real thing that he apparently gives presentations about. He gets paid to tell people this.

Shitty professor isn’t going to be there tomorrow but he wants us to come in anyway to listen to a lecture on CD. Not one of his, just generally. Like, a home learning thing he bought. We asked if he could just put it on Blackboard but he said he didn’t know how to put a CD on Blackboard.

lmao I fucking knew this was the great courses. this professor is off at a conference telling people to teach the poor to trade stocks and he’s just having us sit here listening to an audiobook course he paid for about philosophy.

shitty professor is arguing the necessity of child labor in third world countries because otherwise the children would starve and be prostitutes. yes those are definitely the only two options.

oh my god he just argued that the rich are a minority protected by the constitution

I was really embarrassed about getting a 67 out of 85 on this Business, Government, and Society test but then it turned out the class average was 40 and I got the highest grade in the class. My strategy of always picking the answer I find most morally reprehensible is going well for me.

Monopolies aren’t actually that bad! Also, unions are monopolies, which is bad. (i was the only one who got a lot of the essay questions right so I had to read them in class it was awful)

libertarian economist professor gets really emotional about animals and i think he just argued that if elephants were privately owned they wouldn’t be poached because no one poaches cows

It’s my last week in the class I hate before finals and I’m pretty sure he’s arguing that the Enron scandal happened because there was too much government regulation

oh my god he’s arguing that enron was trying to do california a favor by pointing out a flaw in their system (by exploiting it) h my god he’s not even addressing the fraud in their accounting this whole class has been leading up to his passionate defense of fucking enron

#original #he had nothing to do with the candy bar that was just a very funny punchline to my student loans

649 notes · View notes

finniestoncrane · 2 months

Note

Ik this is sorta late depending on time zones and this ask being cheesy as hell but what would the Riddlers do for Valentine's Day with reader? Something cheesy asf? Or not celebrating it at all? I wanna know I'm curious as hell now

Valentine's Date

Riddler Headcanons gosh i rushed so fast to get this done today!! luckily, it was a blessing as work was SLOW! so here are the boys and how they would celebrate valentine's day in my mind because i am down bad for them all and live in a fantasy world where they would all try and do something nice for you 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: suggestive stuff but it's mostly fluff!!

young justice

i can almost guarantee that if you're spending valentine's day with him, it'll be the first one he's had with a partner

so he is pushing the boat out. or... as best as he can... what with the nerves

he wouldn't do something too extravagant, not too fancy or big. that would only increase the number of people he might embarrass himself in front of

he's far more keen on taking you to a quiet, unexpected but comfortable restaurant with quiet music and only a few tables, so he can talk to you and hear you properly

he'd buy you a single rose, hire the violinist to play a song by your table, your favourite tune

no dancing, he's got two left feet, but he will reach across the table and hold your hand, stroking it with his thumb and looking into your eyes

and when he takes you home, he'll walk you to your door and offer you a shy, reserved kiss

whether or not you pull him through the door by his tie and ravage the poor beast is up to you

unburied

he wouldn't actually ask you out for valentine's day

he'd give you a rant about capitalism and how it's a made up holiday and that you should keep your calendar clear anyway just in case he decides to do an ironic date

you'd think his goal was to embarrass you, in fact, because he's showing up to your house with a little remote control and blasting your favourite song out of every speaker system you own

"hey, sh... don't ask how i know your favourite song or how i got control of your devices. just... stop thinking about it. hey. hey! you're thinking about it... don't think about it, sh you're too pretty to think about it. let me think about it, i'm smarter and prettier"

dinner isn't anything too special either. takeout pizza on a rooftop in gotham somewhere. it could be romantic though, and it would be to someone desperately in love with him like you

listening to him talk about light pollution, asking if you want to hear some riddles about constellations, pointing out the various places he's hid from his enemies

it's not traditional by any means, but it is oddly romantic. dinner, music, time alone under the dulled stars. maybe that was his plan all along

gotham

oh we are going WHOLE HOG here for valentine's day!! you know he's an old romantic, a sweet and gentle soul

so don't think for a moment that you'll be seeing any other people that day, your attention will be solely focused on each other

he's sent, uh... someone has sent in some miscellaneous threat to your workplace, so luckily for you(!) you're not required to go in! SO SURPRISE!! he's here to make you breakfast

and then a brief walk down some of the quieter streets, where he might be brave enough to ask if he can hold your hand

once you're at his apartment, you're in for some respectable but tension filled cuddles on his sofa while you watch some classic romance movies

and then he's making a beautiful three course meal for you both! pressed tablecloth on his little dining table, roses in a conical flask, candles in test tubes (is he stealing these from work?)

he'll feed you little bits of food, wiping your face with a napkin, staring into your eyes dreamily

and then the night will end with a perfect and very polite kiss that you'll wish wouldn't end

telltale

he knows how to do romance, he's been around long enough. it's more a question of whether he can be bothered to celebrate

but he'll pull himself together and act the perfect gentleman for you, regardless of how tired he is after a day of committing violent/cyber crime and being oddly agile for a man in receipt of a state pension

(a fact which will come in handy at the end of the evening...)

he'll start off the evening with the traditional gifts. a box of expensive chocolates or candy, perfectly suited to your dietary requirements of course. and a bouquet of flowers. not roses, but your favourites. he knows they'll make you happier

he's not one for being out in public, what with the whole "is he dead" thing, so you'll be dining in BUT to make it special, he has hired a discreet personal chef to provide the food for the evening

slow, quiet jazz playing in the background, just you, him, and the waiters he has hired and has threatened under extreme violence to keep their mouths shut about this particular shift

could it get any more romantic??

arkham

bless his heart but this eddie is forgetting that it's valentine's day until you're handing him a card, grasping it between his dirty fingers, smudging the soft pink colour with grimy fingerprints

then, you'll endure a fifteen minute long lecture about why you should have at least had the sense to warn him in advance, or to remind him, since you know how he can be

and when he's done, he'll be pushing you out of the room, getting rid of you so he can "finish his important work" and only then can you consider "doing something for this silly holiday"

really, he's just looking for an excuse to get you away so he can work on your very last minute present without you seeing

which of course, he'll present to you as though he had been pretending to forget all along

"i made you this, it's a symbol of our relationship"

it's the remnants of a neon question mark bent into place to resemble a heart. and there's hot glue still drying on it. and a screw stuck to it

but it's the thought that counts, and the thought is there! after all he loves you enough to have lied and put aside his important welding or whatever to haphazardly craft the lie

dano

for him, valentine's day is about showing your love for someone. because you can love them every day, but this is an excuse to make a display out of it

so expect a myriad of gifts, food, perfumes, vouchers, jewellery, stuffed animals, flowers, a handmade valentine's card

enough that it makes you guilty (and enough that you wonder if he really has just been saving all his salary instead of spending it on... furniture or therapy)

then, the personalised activities! most of which involve you doing his quiz all about you and your relationship with him, solving several riddles that lead you to a hidden compartment in the wall of his bedroom (weird.) where he's stuffed his poems to you (sweet!) which he will then recite to you, stuttering over the words and blushing the whole time

but it's not enough for him, he wants to shout it from the rooftops, show the world how much he loves you and appreciates you

he's had all this love bottled up for so long with no one deserving to give it to! let's just hope it comes out in a healthy way...

btaa

he's swooping in to your apartment very late at night

"it's only 11pm, it's still valentine's day mi amorrrrr"

look, he's very sorry that he wasn't able to spend the day with you, and that he's incredibly late to the dinner you had planned

but he's a busy little criminal, he has so many things to do AND he had to do it all by himself because he gave miss tuesday the day off so she could go on a date of her own and-

oh see! you've changed your mind now, no longer grumpy, because he was actually doing something kind for someone else

he really is a generous soul, emphasised by the fact that the reason he was late was because he was pulling off a perfect heist in a jewellery store uptown

so... did you save any leftovers for him? or is he going to have to return this beautiful ring/watch/necklace he bought you?

twojar

he's a curveball, like seriously give you whiplash kind of valentine's date

you think it's going to be a very standard evening, after all there you both are in black tie best, sipping expensive champagne, him talking about himself while you try hard not to stare at his tits

but when the meal is finished, he goes to pay in secret and then rushes you out into a car with tinted windows, and it's lucky he can get you so hot and flushed and eager that quickly, since it's not long before you arrive at the next spot

a strip club

which is? i mean not a traditional valentine's day date location, but it could be very hot

and he's booked one of the private rooms for you both, so at least you won't have to hide your blushing cheeks from the rest of the guests

but it becomes very obvious that there isn't a dancer coming to entertain you, and you worry that he expects you to get up there and put on a show, which would be a disaster because you haven't planned anything and-

"happy valentine's day"

ah. of course. why would the world's most self-absorbed man think you would want anything else for valentine's day than a private strip tease from him

and he's annoyingly very right in that assumption

btas

he absolutely does the most! and the most is often cheesy and dorky and therefor a million times more precious

the kind of guy who would buy you a rose for every day he's known you, regardless of how many days he has known you

the kind of guy who gets those little personalised lego figures made of you and him, or gets a plushie of him to give to you so he'll always be near you (and you know he's putting the personalised message in if he gets it from build a bear)

he knows your favourite starter, main and dessert are all from different restaurants, so he's made the reservations at all three with plenty of time for romantic rides in the back of cabs between each stop

it's important he has plenty of time to cover your neck with kisses, and for you to tell him how adorable he is

and then, because he is the cheesiest but in the best way, it's more than likely he'd use valentine's day as an excuse to propose to you, so he's down on one knee under the cloudy gotham night sky to ask you to marry him (and you're obviously not going to say no)

zero year

he doesn't do valentine's day, what a waste of time! he's nice enough to you the rest of the year, why should there be one day where he has to do something extra fo-

oh? oh! oh ok, if it means you have to do something for him too, then he's down for it

yes... that sounds like a wonderful excuse to get up to some mischief... (it's concerning how evil his little face looks when he's supposedly considering activities for the most romantic of holidays...)

although, why bother going out somewhere on a date, it's such a waste of time and effort

he has to keep his energy for more important things, and speaking of... he can think of very few ways to spend an evening that are better than taking you into the bedroom and sharing an exchange of giving for a few solid hours

no need to wear something nice, it's only going to get stripped off

no need to get him a gift, you'll be giving him plenty

and no need to eat something, he'll make sure you don't leave hungry, trust him

#finnie writes #riddler x reader #riddler x you #riddler headcanon #ridler scenario #gotham riddler #arkham riddler #young justice riddler #dano riddler #zero year riddler #batman unburied riddler #bu riddler #telltale riddler #twojar riddler #riddler #the riddler #btaa riddler #btas riddler

176 notes · View notes

dontmixpaintinyourcoffee · 4 months

Text

Rewatching Yellow Jacket, I can't help but really appreciate how the main trio are written, especially in regards to money. I feel like the easy way to go would be to have a story about greed, forgetting where you came from, ego, blah blah blah. That's the cliche cake you get from the ingredients set up in the first act. But I really, really love that they didn't go that way. Hannah doesn't want money for luxury. She won't say no to it, but her primary motivation is entirely about making Lex happy. There's no bullshit about how money can't buy happiness, because it kind of can. Not happiness directly, but it can sure as fuck buy security, stability, and resources. Ethan has never seen anything close to 100k in his life. And then what they do with a quarter of it is, objectively, irresponsible. Because they're still kids. What would be treated as frivolous in a less compassionate story is vital to these characters. They buy games and toys and ice cream, fill the house with arcade cabinets and a bounce house. Ethan gets so excited that he forgets to get a bed for himself and Lex, but he gets Hannah an extravagant water bed because he loves the kid with all his heart.

Lex has been working shitty minimum wage jobs since she was 16. She had to drop out of high school because she literally couldn't afford to not work for those 8 hours a day. She takes all the hours she can get, she sells whatever she can get her hands on, she takes the consequences onto herself, she takes the snide remarks, she takes the verbal abuse, she takes all of it because she refuses to let Hannah suffer the way Pam did. The hyper-awareness of money bleeds over to Hannah too, no matter how much Lex tries to protect her from it. She knows that a child should never have to worry about bills and medical expenses and if food is gonna be on the table tomorrow, and she doesn't want Hannah to feel the same anxieties that she does. But still, this kid, on her birthday, sees a tablet she could win, and her first thought is that she could sell it. Because fun is a luxury, and she knows it.

So Ethan blowing 25k on games and pizza and candy- it's not silly to them. It's not frivolous. He's giving them both, but especially Lex, the childhood that was taken from them. That was taken by late stage capitalism, and poverty, and a school system that let them slip through the cracks, and an abusive, negligent parent. It's not the most responsible thing in the world, but it's not about the games or the junk food. It's about the ability to eat the junk food and have time to play the games. It's about Lex not having to feel guilty for spending the day with her sister when she could be working. It's about being able to stay up late for Hannah's 15th birthday, because she doesn't have to take a shift the next day. It's about having the time and energy to study and pass the test without entirely burning herself out and hurting the people around her. It's about these three people finally, finally having the resources to feel real, safe, full joy in their lives, and more.

Thank you for joining me on this week's episode of Why This Scene Of Two Twenty-Somethings Sleeping In A Bounce House Made Me Cry, and now back to Dan with the weather-

#yellow jacket #hatchetfield #lex foster #hannah foster #nightmare time #nightmare time 2 #ethan green #wow there was a lot of jazz hands during that murder

167 notes · View notes

looneyleyle · 1 day

Text

the self-destructive habits of a hopeless romantic ~ j. hughes

synopsis: monetizing one's self-sabotaging habits, surprisingly, has its downfalls. one of them being leaving that one attractive hockey player that is an absolute gentleman who loves you with his whole entire heart.

warnings: self-sabotage, self-deprecation, angsty (but with happy ending)

word count: 3425 words

note: once again unedited but i wanted to get this one out there

???'s pov

time and time again, the world has seen the self destructive habits of humans. well, that makes it seem serious. the world has seen the countless missed opportunities due to a fear of another's reaction. the world has seen the blunders due to saving face. the world has seen the heartbreaks due to miscommunication. time and time again, the world has seen how people sabotage their own lives for the dumbest reasons.

esther graham was no different.

in fact, she capitalized on her ability to put herself into the worst emotional distress possible. every heartbreak produced a great work of literature that would nearly sell out in bookstores all over the northeast. she wasn't a new york times best seller by any means, but she was a small town writer from mont vernon, new hampshire. she made a name for herself during her time at hamilton college in their creative writing program. in her junior year of college, she published her first book, woes of a teenage failure, a novel following what could have been for a young college drop out named sophia. the book was a hit amongst her peers and professors, and by word of mouth, ended up selling 200 copies. the book, as ms. graham remarked, was her own "what-if" story, as she almost dropped out of college the beginning of her sophomore year.

and how do i know so much about ms. graham?

well, because i am ms. esther graham.

and i'm here to tell you all about the biggest blunder of my life.

after my first book, i hit major writing block. i would stare at my computer screen for hours just to delete the only three words that i could come up with. i would sit in coffee shops, pen in hand, ready for inspiration to strike, and yet, nothing. i was nearing the end of my college career, riding on the coattails of my first and only book's success, and couldn't figure out how to continue. my professors taught me plenty of ways to try and combat writer's block, but nothing worked.

until i met ryan. a devilishly handsome man all the way from the cheese state of wisconsin, who was meeting up with some college friends for the annual boston beanpot. we had our meet cute at a nearby pizza joint, in which i sat down and started chatting with him, thinking he was a publisher that i was supposed to meet with. after realizing my blunder when he had absolutely no idea what an anthology was, he asked if i wanted to join him and his friends at the beanpot, as one of their friends had cancelled, leaving them with an extra ticket.

ryan and i dated for four months. we would take turns traveling between my college in new york and his in wisconsin until eventually it became too much, or should i say, too little for him, and he broke it off. in my rage and complete depression from the breakup, i wrote my next hit, until the sun sets, a 142-page anthology of gut-wrenching poems, which was eventually integrated into hamilton college's curriculum for their young adult modern literature class. i was quite proud of that.

after that, i found myself yet again staring at blanks screens and empty notepads.

that is, until chloe. a beautiful new york native whom i had actually met while dating ryan. she was a hostess at a restaurant ryan and i would always go to. she was pursuing her masters in psychology, which gave me fascinating insights and tactics to use in my books. we were never officially together, but we had something for almost three months before she was whisked off by some californian named ella. i never saw her again, which prompted my next book, the ninth floor, a murder mystery following a closeted lesbian couple in 1940's hollywood (it was one of the girlfriends the whole time).

at this point, when i hit a creative block for the third time, i realized that i needed my heart or brain to be in absolute shambles in order to produce my best work. i needed to be at some sort of life crisis, and the easiest way to do so was to love another and let that love be ripped out of your life.

so, i began dating for the sake of my career. it was like i sought out the most manipulative, scummy people in the world who were able to get away with it just because they were attractive. over the course of a year, my first year out of college, i dated a total of three men and one woman, and poured my emotions out into a collection of short stories titled lavender.

and that was when i met jack.

i was in new jersey for a book signing at this little bookstore which, as it turns out, was right by the prudential center. as i left the bookstore, i was nearly run over by an overly excited man-child with a giant bag slung upon his shoulder.

"luke, watch out, you nearly killed that woman!" a voice yelled from where the man came from.

"i'm so sorry about that miss, my brother can get a bit overexcited sometimes." looking at the person talking to me, i found a young, very attractive brunet with the most adorable smile. i straightened myself up instinctively, wanting to appear presentable.

"no worries. if you don't mind me asking, what got him so riled up that he almost trampled me?" the man let out a laugh at my statement.

"of course, we owe you at least that much for your near-death experience. he just got nominated for the calder trophy." he explained, as if those words meant anything to me. seeing my blank stare, he clarified. "a rookie of the year award. we play for the new jersey devils." the boy in question came up and joined us, grinning ear to ear.

"ahhh, i see. i'm not a big hockey watcher, which i know is absolute blasphemy for someone who grew up in new hampshire." his jaw nearly dropped.

"you're from up here and don't like hockey? we have to change that." he exclaimed. in my peripheral vision, i could see his brother trying to hide his laughter at his brother's forwardness.

"ill have to come and watch a game sometime." i mused.

"we have a game coming up next week against the blue jackets. i could maybe snatch you a seat in exchange for your number." he proposed. his brother snorted at that, having to turn around to hide his obvious laughter. the man paid his brother no mind, just looking at me with a big smile on his face.

"trying to bribe me mister?"

"is it working?" i put my hand out and he immediately put his phone in my hand, adding my information into his contacts.

"esther? that's nice, you look like a esther." i quirked an eyebrow at him, but continued on anyways.

"and you? what should i call you?"

"call me yours. or jack, either works." the brother was doubled over on the floor at this point, jack finally acknowledging him by kicking him slightly, making him fall over.

"anyways, ms. esther, we have to get going, but ill see you next week at our game." he put out his hand for me to shake.

"you've got yourself a deal jack."

and just like that, jack and i started talking. his eagerness was cute, he texted me no more than ten minutes after meeting me. we talked every day, mainly on calls, asking each other questions and such to get to know each other.

and sure enough, the next week, i found myself back in new jersey watching the brothers play. i assumed jack was going to be some sort of benchwarmer or something, but that didn't seem to be the case. despite my lack of hockey knowledge, i could tell the boy was good, and he had quite a fan base if the amount of women wearing his jersey meant anything. and i felt severely out of place, simply wearing a grey sweater and jeans, unlike everyone else in the stands, decked out in red.

after that, i found myself going to a couple more hockey games, for no particular reason. jack would try to explain the game over video calls and our occasional coffee meet ups, but i couldn't for the life of me wrap my head around it. why do they all get off the ice every five seconds? and what the hell is offsides?? jack always laughed at my confusion, telling me that i'd get it one day.

we spent a couple months thriving off of video chats and once-in-a-blue-moon hangouts, until i got a job as an editor for a local paper. i was good at editing, always having good grammar and an eye for design, but it wasn't my dream. despite it not being my dream, i needed a stable income, and fast. my mind was devoid of ideas, and it didn't seem like that would change any time soon.

plus, it helped that this stable income happened to be in new york city, putting me a lot closer to a certain someone. and, with me being closer, that certain someone would pop on by a lot more than before. and eventually, chinese takeout dinners turned into staying the night, which turned into coming up for the weekend, which turned into the line of friendship being crossed into something more.

and then, i made the dumbest mistake of my life.

i let him go.

now, i know what you must be thinking. he must have done something wrong, he must have cheated or neglected me or done something so completely unforgivable that i would just throw away the most amazing thing in my life. and i wish i was here to tell you that was the truth.

but it wasn't.

jack was nothing but a gentleman, and i was just a broken girl doing the only thing i knew how to do: leave. i like to tell myself that it was for my career, that i needed to write another book, that i wasn't fulfilled in my job and that i was putting myself first by doing this, but i was perfectly content with my life. i was an editor for a major publishing company, i started writing little happy poems about my mundane life with jack, and wanted nothing more. i had no reason to run away. i just woke up in his bed one day and realized that i wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and i couldn't accept that. i had gotten so used to leaving people that i assumed that they would leave me if i hadn't done so first, and i couldn't lose the one real thing i ever had.

so naturally, my self-destructive, self-sabotaging self let him go, the exact opposite of what i wanted.

and when i got back to my apartment after writing jack a confusing and half-assed letter, i cried. i cried and cried and cried, and i always wrote about characters crying until they couldn't anymore, but that day, i couldn't find the end to my tears. for hours tears would either slowly leak or violently pour from my eyes, and they never did end, not even when i passed out on my couch from exhaustion.

and after a week, i was expecting to pick myself up and start writing my next best seller, coping with my writing. but i sat there, and my florescent computer screen simply sat there, staring back at me. and when i left my apartment for a change of scenery, the blank pages of my notebook mocked me. i flipped through past works, all of them being little poems about jack, and the waterworks continued, right in the middle of a starbucks.

after a week and four days, i couldn't take it. i had to make things right, i had to at least see him. it always worked in the books, right? someone makes a huge mistake, they break up, they see each other again and realize they're both miserable without each other and then get back together and live happily ever after.

when i knocked on the door to jack's apartment, i was met with an unimpressed looking luke. at the sight of him, the waterworks started up again.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" i nodded furiously at this, sobs wrecking through my body. i couldn't see through the tears in my eyes, but i could tell the luke hadn't moved a muscle.

"he deserved better and you know that." i felt my soul being crushed. "i mean, a letter? seriously esther? and a half-assed one at that. i know damn well you don't have a degree in creative writing for that bullshit."

i opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came up. what would i say, that i was a broken person? cop out. that i did it to everyone? not much better. that i got scared? fucking coward.

"if you think that you deserve to see my brother, then i'll let you in." he told me, moving out of the way, door open wide. i just stood there, staring at him through teary eyes. my brain cheered, finally able to go in, but my feet wouldn't move.

my heart still clenched and ached, and with every thought of moving forward, into that apartment, it hurt more. jack didn't deserve this. after all the nights of him reading my poems about him and praising my work, after all the sweet things he'd say when i was down, after all the little acts of kindness he showed me, after all the love he poured into us, he didn't deserve to be broken by me. hurt people hurt people, the scholars had that right. he didn't deserve to be broken.

and so, i got ready to leave, again.

"i'm sorry." was all i said, turning around with heavy legs and a heavy heart. i heard luke let out a sigh as i walked away, closing the door behind him.

a couple of days went by and i found myself back at their apartment. i knew they wouldn't be there, they had an away game in anaheim the night before, and i knew from my time with jack that they would always spend the night in the city before coming back, especially after a win, a 5-0 win no less.

i stood there in front of their door, a small box in my hands, contemplating. jack didn't deserve this, but a selfish part of me needed this. i placed the box gingerly outside of their door and left the building. if the box was taken by some nosy neighbor, or thrown in the trash by some janitor, then it would be fate. it would be a sign to move on. but, there was a chance that jack and luke would come back to their apartment, and would pick up the box, and jack would recognize my handwriting. and, instead of throwing the box in the trash like any normal self-respecting person receiving a box from their shitty ex, he would take it to his room, and open it up to see my notebook, with a bookmark starting at the pages when i first started seeing him. and he would read the poems and maybe, just maybe, he'd see the note written on the bookmark to meet me at the park near his apartment, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be willing to hear me out.

i went to that park every single day for exactly one month and six days, always arriving by 1 pm, never late. and i would stay there until 4 pm, waiting.

on the 37th day, i was sitting there, editing, funnily enough, a sports column about the recent devils and islanders game. i watched it, absolutely terrible game it was, the islanders beating the devils for the first time in the season. our sports journalist, while passionate and very knowledgeable about seemingly every sport out there, had a knack for writing long, run-on sentences that reflected his rambling nature. as i sat there on the same park bench i had been sitting on for the previous 36 days, a figure stopped in front of me. i finished up the sentence i was working on before looking up.

and while i hate cliches, the wind was absolutely knocked out of my lungs.

"h-hey jack." i started, immediately putting away my work, giving him my full attention.

"hey esther." a shiver ran down my spine from him just saying my name. it had been so long, and while it lost its loving tone, i welcomed it with open arms. jack moved, taking the spot next to me, looking out at the trees in front of us. when it became apparent he wasn't going to say anything, i started the conversation.

"i see you read the notebook."

"i finished it three weeks ago." he replied, voice lacking its usual emotion. tears welled up in my eyes. three weeks.

"oh."

"i came here immediately after finishing it." i felt my eyes bulge out of their sockets at that. he continued, "i went to that bench over there and watched as you fidgeted in your spot, looking frantically at everyone who passed by. i watched the next day as you sat in the pouring rain with no umbrella. i sat over on that bench every day that i was here since reading your notebook."

a silence fell upon us, my mind reeling, trying to figure out what he was trying to say, from his emotionless face to the fact that he came.

"do you know how much it hurt? waking up to empty sheets and some half-assed note with the lamest excuses on earth?" i hadn't really paid mind to the tears rolling down my cheeks until he brought that up, sending me back to that morning, quickly scribbling out some gibberish before leaving the best part of my life behind.

"i was going to wait another month, y'know. to see if you were still gonna come here every day."

"so why didn't you?" i asked, sniffling intensely, trying to calm down my sobs.

"luke said i was absolutely miserable without you. coach told me i wasn't focused. my teammates pointed out that i barely left my apartment. the icing on the cake was when my mom started asking if you would be coming over to the lakehouse this summer. i realized, as pathetic as it seems, that i can't live without you."

my attempts at stopping my crying were thrown out the window at that. i could probably fill the hudson river with the amount of tears i had shed over the past two months.

"how can i make it up to you. please, please let me make it up to you." i begged, fully facing him, my hands angrily playing with the sleeves of my shirt because if i didn't, i would be reaching out to the man in front of me.

"never pull that shit again." he bargained, looking me dead in the eyes for the first time in months. and in that moment, i saw just how bad he was doing. sunken eyes with heavy bags, his skin dull, hair slightly unkempt under his hat.

"never again." i promised, putting out my pinky to him, something he would always do when he promised me to not get hurt in games. he let out a hoarse laugh, looking away from me, and when he looked back, i saw the tears brewing in his eyes. he took my pinky in his and held it there, between us.

"now, i'm not gonna just take you right back after all that. that was really shitty and i need some time to get over that. but, as i've found out, i can't really function without you. so maybe you could start with coming to my games again, and i could take you out for coffee next week."

"sounds perfect."

i accepted my life as an editor for the local newspaper, accepted that i probably wouldn't write another page-turning sell-out book, accepted that i was completely content with whatever happened to me, so long as jack was there with me.

and with that, my self-destructive, soul-crushing, heart-breaking tendencies reached their end.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x oc #new jersey devils #fanfic

54 notes · View notes

katyaromanoffpetrova · 2 months

Text

A first (very insecure) Valentine's

It's Natasha's first Valentine's Day with her girlfriend, and she struggles more with the concept of love and romance than she feared.

Natasha Romanoff x fem!OC (Katya Petrova) (the ''Forgotten Ghost'' series) Wordcount: 3.9k No warnings (except maybe Natasha being adorably helpless at love)

A/N: here to make your Valentine's Day a bit less miserable: our two favorite murder wives :)

The door of Clint's room had never looked more intimidating than on this Monday night, in the empty, dark hallways of SHIELD HQ. Everyone who lived on base had gone to find their beds, exhausted from the busy workday. But Natasha knew her best friend was still awake by the faint light coming from under his door.

Had she known that love was this embarrassing, she would have thought twice before letting Katya back into her life. Simply the thought of what she came down here to ask made her want to scratch her skin off. It was a completely new feeling that she struggled to get a grip on. This whole 'in love' thing really messed with her mind and body.

Every time she heard or read her girlfriend's name, saw her in the hallways or the cafeteria, or simply thought about her in the middle of a boring briefing, her head got fuzzy and the world faded away. All her thoughts would get consumed by Katya until she was mentally on cloud nine and felt warm all over.

It was a very odd development for a woman who never lost focus. Last week, Maria chucked a file at her head when she'd zoned out once again in the middle of their conversation.

It was embarrassing. People teased her about it—especially Fury. If he made one more joke about her keeping her head on her neck and not in the clouds, she was going to cut his off his body. The last thing she needed was other agents taking after him and realizing she had a heart. She still struggled to accept her soft side.

"Are you gonna come in, or do I have to bring a pillow and a blanket out while you think about it?"

Once more, Natasha pulled her thoughts back to the here and now, her cheeks flushing red. She had no other choice but to push the door handle down and sheepishly step into Clint's room, closing the door behind her. What was happening to her? She used to be so confident and unbothered all the time.

Clint didn't look up from his spot on the couch, buried in manilla-colored files and papers, an empty pizza box on the floor. His apartment represented his mind. Cluttered, unorganized, yet somehow cozy. If Laura saw him like this, she'd scold him for his unhealthy lifestyle.

"What relationship question do you have for me today?" He asked casually, scribbling something in a notebook. When Natasha stayed silent, he looked up, chuckling at her expression. "Come on. If this was about work, you would have barged in like you own the place."

Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, looking at the horrible handwriting in his notebook instead of his face. It was difficult enough to get the words out of her throat. "The fourteenth, how serious do people take it?"

Clint was too taken aback by the question to form an immediate answer, leaving her to cringe in the short silence that followed. The nail of her thumb painfully scratched at the nail bed of her pointer finger.

"You mean Valentine's Day?" Amusement flashed briefly across his eyes, but he was too considerate of her struggle with herself to tease her about the way she worded her question. He closed the folder in his lap, straightening his hunched back. "It really depends. Some people think it's just capitalism bullshit, but most people like showing their loved ones some extra love anyway."

Natasha definitely considered herself a hater of Valentine's Day, of capitalism and money-hungry companies in general. But it wasn't about her, was it? "Do you give Laura something?"

"Flowers. Every year." Clint's face lit up at the mention of his partner. "She says she doesn't want anything, but that's the least I can do. And I try to be home if I can." He tilted his head. "Do you plan on giving Katya something?"

Natasha shrugged. "I don't know if she cares about stupid holidays," she mumbled, prodding the linoleum underneath her feet with the heel of her boot. Why was a relationship so hard?

"I can feel her out for you?" Clint offered kindly, but she immediately shook her head.

"She'll know." And Katya knowing that she asked Clint for advice was even more embarrassing.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Well, if she says something, I'll let you know." Natasha sent him a thankful nod, reaching for the door handle behind her, but Clint wasn't done yet. "But between you and me, I think she'll really love any gesture from you."

"Thanks."

She left his room feeling only a tad bit better. Clint's advice wasn't really useful and gave her no insight on what Katya would prefer, but it helped to know that even he participated in the holiday. And that said something, given he wasn't the most romantic person she knew.

As she walked back to her own room, Natasha once again wrecked her brain for everything she knew about Valentine's Day, but she didn't get much further than it being a red and pink color vomit with hearts everywhere. Flowers, cards, chocolates, that she also knew. But her knowledge stopped there.

Every year when the day came around, and the stores started to fill up with the nauseatingly sweet colors, she went out of her way to avoid it. Hating it was easier than digging into her soul to figure out why she hated it so much.

Anyone talked about Valentine's Day? She pulled a grossed-out face. A love song came on the radio? She turned it off.

Now, for the first time in her life, she was forced to face it head on, and she was at an absolute loss.

What did people do on Valentine's Day? What was considered a good gift? What would Katya like to receive?

She really loved the roses Natasha brought her for their first date, but the redhead hadn't given her anything beyond that that could indicate her preferences.

Natasha's face paled, a nauseating feeling of failure rising in her throat as she stopped in her tracks. Should she have gotten her girlfriend more gifts in the past months? Her heart started to race. Had Katya been waiting on something to follow the roses?

Oh god, Natasha knew she wasn't up for this. She was doing this all wrong. Her romantic instincts took much longer to resurface than she thought they would. And even worse, what if they were gone, forced out of her at a young age? What if she would never get that natural feel for romantic things?

She didn't even know if it was customary to get your partner gifts often. Every week, every two weeks, every month? She thought that gifts were only for milestones, and birthdays, and the occasional holiday. Never did she stop to think that she could give Katya presents on random moments, just to be sweet. What dumb, inexperienced idiot didn't know that?

Her thoughts were spiraling.

Twice as fast now, Natasha legged it back to her room, stopping herself from frustratingly slamming the door behind her.

She needed to calm herself down, taking deep breaths to ease the anxiety as she paced back and forth in her room, the one next to the woman ruining her nights. Valentine's Day was supposed to be fun, exciting, an opportunity to spoil her girlfriend as she deserved.

Shaking out her arms, Natasha pondered what she could get Katya, what she should do, determined to make up for her lack of romance. Flowers were nice, but that was too simple and repetitive. Chocolates were too cliché, and Natasha would rather throw up than write something romantic in a card only to have Katya read it in front of her. Maybe someday.

As her feet wore out a path in the floor, she knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't stop. The fear of doing something wrong, of losing this fragile thing they'd built over the last few months was strong. It was the best thing in her life, and if she lost it, Natasha already knew she wouldn't be able to go on.

So lost in thought—once again—she almost missed the sound of her phone. Absent-mindedly, her hand fumbled for the device in her pocket, expecting a SHIELD message or an email. Instead, her heart skipped a beat at the name displayed on screen.

Katya: Go to sleep.

Katya: I can hear you pacing.

Katya: Do you want to get something off your chest?

Yes. Natasha had several things to get off her chest, in fact. A million. But Katya was also the reason those things were there.

She wanted to crawl into her girlfriend's arms and put it all out there. She wanted to be reassured until all those worries floated out of her head, leaving only silence behind, the kind of peaceful silence only Katya could give her. She wanted to just exist in her embrace for a while.

The yearning caught her so off-guard that it took her a second to answer the texts. It was only lately that she'd started to crave physical affection, and it seemed her body was trying to catch up on all the years she didn't have it.

Natasha: I'm alright. Thank you.

Natasha: Go to sleep yourself.

Katya: Can't. Some idiot is pacing next door and it's keeping me awake.

A genuine smile broke through her frown. She'd been doing that so much more often. Smiling, laughing. Natasha didn't even remember the last time she genuinely laughed at something before Katya came around.

She deserved something on Valentine's Day, Natasha decided. But what?

Grabbing her laptop, she sat down on her bed, opening her internet browser to the search bar. She contemplated the right way to go about this, chewing on her bottom lip in thought as her fingertips hovered over the keyboard.

First, Natasha typed things like, "Valentine's Day gifts woman", and "Original Valentine's Day gifts", but she quickly realized this was not at all what she wanted. The gifts were far from original, and she was pretty sure Katya didn't want a pillow with her face printed on it.

Aggressively deleting it, she tried other keywords, more specific ones tailored to Katya, but the internet didn't seem to understand her. All it showed her was mass-produced and cheaply made junk. The same things a thousand other New Yorkers would be getting from their loved ones.

No, it had to be something more personal. But Natasha wasn't crafty enough to make anything the lists suggested, and getting Katya a knife for Valentine's Day didn't give off the right message.

She got more frustrated by the minute, slamming the keys harder than the agents down at IT would like. Nothing that passed her screen felt right, and she didn't have much time left to find something. She'd already avoided dealing with this for as long as she could.

The taste of iron flooded her tongue, and Natasha realized she'd bitten through her lip in her desperation. She licked the blood off as she aggressively closed all the tabs in her browser. The internet had turned out to be entirely unhelpful once again.

With a quiet groan, she fell back on her bed, staring at the blank ceiling. What did she know about Katya? What did she like? They were still learning each other, getting to know each other again. A few months was nowhere near long enough to know everything about her, especially with all the guards they had up. They were definitely moving twice, if not three times, as slow as the average couple.

But there had to be something. Something Katya mentioned—

Natasha shot up at once, her fingers flying over the keys this time.

On New Year's Day, the cafeteria had chocolate bonbons for the agents that stayed on base. They'd done that the years before, nothing special. But she remembered bumping into Katya in the hallway just outside, the blonde munching on one of them and having a couple more in the palm of her hand. When she had asked if they were any good, Katya had nodded but said they would never compare to her favorite Russian bonbons, filled with vodka liquor.

Natasha had never been so happy with her good memory, thanking the gods for saving Valentine's Day for her. Typing the brand in the search bar, she managed to find a store in the city that had the chocolates. From there on out, it was simple to order a box and have it delivered.

Beyond relieved, Natasha shut her laptop, grinning to herself. It was the perfect gift. Thoughtful, personal, it showed that she paid attention, and it fit the Valentine's Day theme. She couldn't have picked anything better. The only thing left was for her to run to the local florist and pick up some roses.

~~~~

On February 14, Natasha was awoken at 5:30 by the nervous churning of her stomach. It was such an unfamiliar feeling that for a moment, she thought she'd caught an illness. Restless stomach, feeling jittery, cold tremors; all signs of the flu. But then she remembered the date.

Slowly, she got out of bed, trying to ignore her bubbling stomach as she showered and got dressed. It wasn't easy. She would have liked to drag the process out forever, hide in the safe shower, but she needed to catch Katya before she left. No way was she waiting all day to give everything.

Only when she was satisfied with the way she looked did she open her closet again, crouching to pick up the vase she'd hidden there the day before. Last night, she brought it in, the bouquet hidden in a big cardboard box that she carried through HQ. No agent had spared her a glance.

At 6, Natasha no longer allowed herself to hesitate. She gave herself a mental kick under the butt, grabbed the chocolates and flowers, and headed for the door. With one last deep breath, she slowly opened it, sticking her head through the gap to check left and right. The hallway was empty.

She felt like a coward, sneaking around like she was dropping off drugs instead of flowers, but her reputation here within SHIELD is what saved her when she first started out, and what kept people respecting her as someone not to mess with.

Her reputation was precious to her. One day, she'd happily sacrifice it for Katya, but before that could happen, she needed to do a lot of work on herself. Growing and evolving took time.

Swift like a cat, Natasha slipped into the hallway, silently closing her door behind her. Again, she listened for footsteps, but the only thing in her ears was her own heartbeat. Her hands were clammy around the box of chocolates.

The thing she was nervous about wasn't seeing Katya. In fact, she looked forward to seeing her again. That smile that greeted her every morning when she pulled her door open was the thing keeping her alive right now.

No, what she was nervous about was the gesture itself. Her head was filled with only doubts. Had she chosen the right things? Was it too much? Was it too little? Did Katya think Valentine's Day was stupid? Natasha thought she'd like it, because Katya liked New Year's too, and that was also a dumb holiday in her eyes.

Much like last week, Natasha found herself staring at a wooden door. It had a small dent in it, she realized, right at eye-height. Maybe a previous resident had accidentally knocked their forehead into it.

Her heart pounded in her chest when her fist raised to knock, but she did it. Four, quick knocks, her hand retracting like it had touched fire. She shuffled in her spot, adjusting the things in her hands as she listened to Katya's shuffling on the other side. Even if she wanted to flee, it was too late now. Footsteps were swelling on.

The door swung open, a pair of blue eyes and a kind smile replacing the brown wood. Natasha's heart skipped a beat for other reasons now. Her girlfriend looked so beautiful, her hair loose and her eyes slightly puffy from sleep.

"Good mo—" Katya's voice cut off, her gaze shooting to the things in Natasha's hands.

Natasha couldn't find her voice. How could she have forgotten to think about what to say?! Her clothes, her hair, the gifts, when to give it; it had all been given thorough consideration. But not once had she thought about what she would say. Not once!

"For you," she threw out, her voice sounding ten times more calm and collected than her brain was. The smile on her face was supposed to be gentle, but it felt insecure and nervous on her lips.

Katya's beautiful eyes widened in disbelief. "Nat…" She gasped softly, carefully taking the flowers from her hand. Her nose disappeared between the rose petals, taking a whiff of the fresh scent. Her eyes sparkled when she looked up at her girlfriend again. "That's so sweet of you. Thank you so much." Another gasp flew off her lips once she clocked the bonbons. "Oh, my god. Are those the chocolates? I can't believe you remembered."

Natasha could tell how red her cheeks were based on how warm they felt. Receiving compliments had never been her strong suit. But she felt so relieved, too, realizing all her worries were for nothing because Katya would have probably been happy with a simple kiss. She'd made this way too big in her head.

Her head, that seemed to be the main problem in her life.

"Maybe don't eat them all at once. Don't think Fury would appreciate it if you're drunk on the job," she joked, feeling her usual confidence come back to her.

Katya shrugged, carefully opening the packaging. "Don't care. I'm having one right now."

Natasha chuckled at her enthusiasm, happy her gift was received so well. "It's six in the morning."

"I know." Katya grinned. "Come in, I'll make coffee." She pulled Natasha into her apartment by her sleeve, closing the door behind her.

They didn't have time to chat or drink coffee, but for once, Natasha didn't protest. She felt light, like she could handle whatever the world was going to throw at her today. She was proud of herself, too. Taking a romantic leap was terrifying, but it clearly paid off. Her eyes followed Katya closely as she placed the roses on the coffee table, adjusting them so they looked nice.

"I didn't know you'd get me anything. I would have gotten you something too." Katya smiled as she turned around. "I thought you hated Valentine's Day."

"I do." Natasha paused. Did she still? "Kinda."

"Yet you got me something." Katya's eyes took in her appearance. A brown leather jacket that she saved for special occasions, her hair neatly styled. "And you look really put-together too. Put in extra effort to look nice?" She teased lovingly.

Natasha scoffed, looking away to hide the blush on her face. "No." Were her efforts really that obvious? If so, that was so embarrassing.

Katya hummed skeptically, closing the distance until she stood right in front of her. It was impossible to stay stubborn and not look. The pull of her bright blue irises was too strong. Natasha tentatively glanced their way, relaxing at the gentleness in them.

"Well, either way, thank you. I really appreciate it," Katya said honestly, smiling softly. Natasha offered her a smile back, the closeness making it feel like she had to whisper.

"You're welcome."

The redhead's breath hitched in her throat when a pair of warm, rough hands cupped her cheeks. She barely had time to process before Katya stepped even closer and pressed a kiss to her lips. More than a couple dozen times they'd kissed, but it never failed to make her body react like the first time.

Before she could move her hands to hold Katya's waist, the woman had stepped back, her cheeks a light pink as well. "Consider that my gift." She teased.

"It'll do," Natasha chuckled breathily.

It was already a better Valentine's Day than all her previous ones combined.

"Did you really expect nothing?" She asked after a moment, watching Katya make coffee in the small kitchen. It was only then that she realized her girlfriend wasn't fully dressed yet. Her cozy, fluffy cardigan wasn't work-appropriate and hung loosely over her tank top.

"I suspected something when Clint suddenly asked me about Valentine's Day last week," Katya said, looking over her shoulder as she poured some milk in her coffee cup. "You know that look in his eyes that he gets when he's trying to be nonchalant?" She chuckled.

Anger flashed through Natasha's body. "I told him not to ask," she grumbled through clenched teeth, turning her head away. Clint was an incredibly kind, selfless guy, but he was also so annoyingly stupid sometimes.

One thing. She asked him one thing, and he couldn't keep his trap shut.

A smug grin overtook Katya's features. "So you did go to him for advice? I was just fishing."

Natasha's head snapped back to her girlfriend. Her glare did nothing but make her smirk wider, and Natasha couldn't even be mad, because she walked right into that one herself, didn't she? "Don't ever mention it again," she threatened.

Katya laughed softly, handing her her cup of black coffee. "Do you want to go out for breakfast? If you're not busy."

Natasha was, in fact, busy. But her meeting at seven also included Maria, and she could give her the details later. It wasn't any more important than spending Valentine's Day morning with her partner. "Yeah, sure. I'd love to."

Katya's smile widened. "Give me a minute to finish getting dressed."

Pressing her coffee cup into Natasha's empty hand, she grabbed something from her dresser and disappeared into the bathroom. As the water in the sink ran, Natasha had the urge to drink Katya's coffee just to get her back for teasing her so much, but before she could actually put the cup to her lips, the blonde was back.

Natasha nearly choked on her drink. "What are you wearing?"

Black clothing was the way to go in SHIELD. Black, dark blue, navy, the occasional dark red or green if anyone felt adventurous, but it always stayed near the darkest side of color shades. What Katya wore right now, a cherry red turtleneck, was very outside of the clothing norms. Natasha had never seen her wear anything other than black.

"What? You don't like it?" Katya asked, looking down at herself unsurely.

"It's… red." Natasha blinked rapidly, trying to grasp the sight in front of her. "Very red."

"Yeah. But do you like it?"

To her own surprise, the answer was yes. Katya had never looked so… soft. "It's alright." So alright, in fact, that she felt slightly disappointed when she put her go-to leather jacket over it.

"Thought I'd go with the theme." Katya smiled, chugging her coffee before grabbing her wallet and keys.

They filed out of her room, the hallway still empty and quiet as most agents were only now starting to wake up, snoozing their alarms for five minutes more sleep. Natasha should be heading right to prepare for her meeting, but instead she followed Katya to the left, to the elevator heading for the underground garage.

It didn't make her any less of a good employee. It made her more human.

And as she pressed the elevator button and felt Katya's hand slip into her own, she knew she was going to allow her to hold it a little bit longer today.

#katandnat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff fluff #valentine's day #natasha romanoff x katya petrova #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff x oc #natasha romanoff x original female character

112 notes · View notes

st-just · 12 days

Note

You know I've been thinking about it, and like... are there *any* ethical jobs? Just for example, the usual "good" jobs people list are Bad: Teacher's and professors: uphold academic hegemony. Public-lands based workers, (fee techs, rangers, trail workers): uphold colonial institutions. Doctors and psychiatrists: uphold pharmaceutical barriers. People who are just clerks or waiters uphold capitalist interests! There really are no ethics in capitalism, is there? God, makes me suicidal.

I mean yes the world is fundamentally full of horrors and living a truly moral life in it without becoming complicit in them is something of an unsolved problem. Hence, like, every millenarian and salvationist theology in history. (If one wishes to be truly morally pure and uncontaminated, they also provide a variety of interesting and elaborate suicide methods previous walkers along the path have followed. I've unironically always found the sokushinbutsu and the circumcellions fascinating).

But like, this is why an all or nothing view of morality is pretty much useless, right? Being a responsible moral agent means being able to judge and order ones options. Both are in some sense complicit but there's' a difference between ordering drone strikes and delivering pizzas in downtown DC.

#reply #anon #suicide mention #officially just going through my inbox now

43 notes · View notes

squish-o-blair · 1 year

Text

So I got bored and decided to compile all the lore revealed in the Sonic Twitter Takeovers.

I've highlighted in Green stuff that could be (or is) canon to the games (AKA stuff that's canon, isn't contradicted in canon, or isn't some meta joke), in red is stuff that definitely isn't canon, and the rest you can make your own decision on.

-This is just regular lore but "Ivo" in "Ivo Robotnik" is pronounced "Evo" it's supposed to sound like "evil"

-Eggman is a PC gamer

-Eggman might not be able to swim

-Eggman is in smash he's just super hard to unlock

-Eggman wants to take over the world because "It's Friday" (in other words it's implied that most Sonic games take place or at least START on a Friday.)

-Eggman can't get any bitches

-Eggman works out

-The Sega Saturn is Eggman's favorite Sega console

-Eggman's a fan of old show tunes and lullabies

-There's an Eggman empire lot in North Hollywood

-Eggman has a cat he calls "Biggy Wiggy"

-Eggman is fan of Tokyo Ghoul and Chainsaw Man

-Eggman is Youtuber Cobanermani456's father

-The Egg Pawns have names (one is named Fred)

-Eggman and Sonic hang out sometimes

-Sonic and Eggman are both streamers

-Roger Craig Smith is a fake alias used by Sonic

-Sonic shares a universe with Assassin's Creed and Sonic and Eggman once kidnapped Ezio

-Sonic's a shitty gamer

-Sega is Sonic's agent

-The Sega Genesis is Sonic's favorite Sega console

-Sonic's a fan of Mongolian throat singing

-Sonic is salty about reviewers who continue to bring up Sonic 06

-Sonic's favorite Sonic games are Sonic Boom Rise of Lyric and Sonic Frontiers

-Sonic's favorite movie is Chao in Space (even though he hasn't seen it)

-Tails hacked Eggman's Twitter account (which eggman stole from Sonic) via a "lonley robots in your area" virus

-Tails is a My Hero Academia fan

-Tails is fucking ripped

-Tails is a pro among us gamer

-All their gloves stay clean because of a special polymer that Tails made

-Tails is an Acapella fan

-it took Shadow until the aftermath of Forces to find the damn 4th Chaos emerald

-Shadow only uses Android phones

-Shadow is a Breaking Bad fan

-Shadow has killed a real life person and plans to kill more

-The Dreamcast is Shadow's favorite Sega Console

-Shadow's a fan of classic rock

-Shadow is a fan of anime (specifically Kill La Kill)

-Shadow eats coffee beans raw with a spoon

-Shadow is good friends with Big and Knuckles (more-so than Sonic)

-Shadow hates Capitalism

-Shadow donates his rings to charity

-Shadow shops at a convenience store named "Maria" and feels like if he can support some Maria out there, then he feels like he's making the world a better place

-Shadow has a soft spot for kittens and wants to open a cat orphanage

-Shadow's favorite movie is Chao in Space 3 (which he features in)

-Shadow is a fan of Infinite's theme

-Shadow writes poetry

-Shadow and Maria ordered pizza on the ARK that came from Earth

-Doom's eye is still alive, him and Shadow occasionally go out for dinner

-Shadow is the living embodiment of drip

-Shadow very heterosexually hypes up Knuckles a lot

-Shadow specifically tried to keep Sonic away from him during the final boss of SA2 because he knew Sonic would've fell to Earth too if he tried to rescue him

-Despite all the issues Shadow has with Sonic's methods and morals, he doesn't hate him

-Shadow is a bad cook

-Shadow is (or will be) legally married to @/RealShadowFan01 on Twitter

EDIT: the wedding's off :(

-Shadow is panromatic/pansexual

-Shadow volunteers at soup kitchens

-The Shadow Dark Chao seen in promo art and the IDW comics does in fact belong to Shadow

-Shadow and Amy are both huge Taylor Swift fans

-Amy's favorite Sonic game is Sonic Heroes

-Amy is a Fruits Basket fan

-Amy still visits Little Planet and makes jewelry out of gems found in Quartz Quadrant

-Knuckles collects rocks that look like animals

-Knuckles is a Lizzo fan

-Knuckles, Cream, and Vanilla are big One Punch Man fans

-Chaos Control is activated by literally just holding the emerald and shouting "chaos control" that's it, anyone can do it.

-On the Planet Wisp, Hide and Seek is called "Don't be seen or perish" and whoever gets found is tossed into the volcano on Planet Wisp

-Yaker died once

-They physically can't take their gloves off

-The Sonic OVA is canon

-Mean Beans are living beings

-Grounder is canon

-Metal Sonic is a series of multiple robots and not just one that gets repaired each time (this probably isn't canon anymore)

-Infinite is still alive

-Infinite occasionally sends Eggman gay Sonadow porn

-Charmy runs a thrift store

-The stone tablet in Frontiers translates to sonic version of the Bee Movie script

-Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, and Shadow, all work in an unknown office somewhere

Things that exist in Sonic Universe (all of these could be red. You decide man idk):

-Twitter

-All forms of Sonic media (including games, comics, and TV shows) (they're retellings of Sonic's stories)

-Summer of Sonic

-Sonic Stadium

-Sega

-Undertale the game (and specifically Sans as a fictional character) and Toby Fox

-Game Grumps (specifically Jontron era)

-Tootsie pops (big day for tootsie pop Sonic fans)

-The Macarena

-Twitch

-Sonic songs (Escape from the City, Live and Learn, E.G.G.M.A.N., Believe in Myself, Infinite, and Vandelize are mentioned by name or referenced.)

-Cobanermani456

-Hulu

-Tyson Hesse

-Super Smash Bros (both as an event AND an in universe video game)

-SiivaGunner and GilvaSunner

-Hyper Potions

-Crush 40

-San Diego

-Apple

-Sega HARDlight

-Breaking Bad

-Sonadow porn

-Spike Chunsoft

-The Danganronpa Games (or at least V3)

-Etika

-North Hollywood

-Kill la Kill

-regular ass cats (not like Blaze, just normal real life cats) (also regular dogs)

-Alpharad

-Jacksepticeye

-Patreon

-Youtube

-Xbox

-Playstation

-Nintendo Switch

-The Completionist

-Gushers

-The "you know I had to do it to em" meme

-Tokyo Ghoul

-My Hero Academia

-Global Giving

-St. Jude

-Extra Life

-Hot Topic

-What does the Fox say

-Tee Lopes

-Tyler Smyth

-Sam's Procastionation Station

-Elsie Fisher

-Barry Kramer

-RubberNinja

-Sonamy fans

-Caddicarus

-Mario

-Among Us

-Colleen O'Shaughnessy

-Youtube

-Fadel Gamescage

-Lizzo

-Taylor Swift

-Elon Musk (implied)

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fandom #dr. eggman #eggman #miles tails prower #Knuckles the Echidna #Shadow the hedgehog #Amy Rose #Sonic Lore #Yaker #Wisps #Planet Wisp #Black Doom #Doom's Eye #Cream the Rabbit #Vanilla the Rabbit #Metal Sonic #Charmy Bee #Infinite

480 notes · View notes