#((so i think seeing the rings; the veil; as well as how much emily has missed him in the intervening years))

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"Oh, only the good things," Randall grinned right back, the smell of homemade gumbo, with all of its savory spices and seasonings, dancing in his nose as he thanked their waitress and prepared to dig in. Hot gumbo was something he could eat without hardly blowing on it, just as he could drink hot coffee straight from the pot, completely unbothered by the temperature-something he picked up from his mother, no doubt, given her penchant for piping hot black coffee.

"I think you'll like them," he added warmly, as he took in a spoonful of gumbo, savoring the wonderful flavors before saying, "They're very nice, very...down-to-Earth, you might say. Ma's a nurse at the children's clinic and Pa works construction, so you probably wouldn't see them during the week; they work most of the same days I do, but they at least get the weekends off."

So who knew? Maybe after one of these dates (the word alone made his heart flutter with excitement), they'd swing by his home to meet them-his folks never minded visitors, and would no doubt welcome her with open arms.

"How's your steak?" he then ventured to ask, looking up from his gumbo at the slab of meat on her plate-he probably would've ordered it a little more cooked, a little more well-done, but hey, some people enjoyed their steaks rare...really rare...

[aphroditesmoon]

halloween

jacaerys velaryon x reader (modern!au)

inspired by Halloween by Phoebe Bridgers.

summary: He is only himself when he's with you.

warnings: mentions of death, grief. a little sad here n there but fluff ending dw.

°°°

This was going to be the first Halloween celebration Jace would have without his brother.

The idea of dressing up and pretending like everything was fine nauseated him. Nothing was fine, not without Luc. But then he remembers how much his brother had adored his celebration, always begging him to dress up in matching duo characters, attempting to get extra candies from the neighbours and visiting haunted houses. Maybe he could honor his brother by trying to enjoy this night.

You had insisted to do a couples costumes, and that had excited him if he was honest, you agreed to go for something easy and went as Emily and Victor from the corpse bride.

It was an easy costume, all he needed was a suit and powder to make him look pale. The dark circles in his eyes was already helpful in making him look like a ghost so that's one good thing.

"Mom, I'm leaving now!" He yelled from the front door and grabs his car keys from the keyholder.

"Alright, be careful driving, some of the children wear dark clothing's, you can't see them!" He hears his mother yells back from the kitchen. "Alright"

The drive to your house was short and he was grateful they'd fixed the streetlights, hitting a child dressed as a skeleton wouldn't be an ideal Halloween night.

Leaving his car engine on as he parks right in front of your porch, he leaves his car to ring your doorbell.

He smiles to himself as he hears your muffled voice from inside telling your parents that he's here.

the sound of you shuffled footsteps grew closer.

As the door opens, his grin widens and he beams at the sight of you.

You had painted yourself a pale blue, dressed in a cheap wedding dress costume you'd gotten from Walmart and a flower veil.

You reciprocate his big smile as he moves to embrace you and kisses the top of your head.

You laugh as he accidentally pushes your veil off while trying to hug you.

"Let's go hm? our friends are probably already there." He takes your hand and leads you to his car, making sure to open your door for you and only going to his side after you enter yours.

The drive to Aegon's house was filled with the sound of your Halloween playlist music and lots of talking as you both gossip over your classmates drama.

It was refreshing for him to talk about something other than his grief, it seemed like everyone else arounds him was so adamant on reopening his wounds everytime he felt ready to close it. He was glad you knew better not to do so.

As you reach to open the car door when you arrive he immediately slaps your hand lightly before running out of his seat to open your door for you.

"My lady" he jokes, giving his hand for you to reach as you rise out from your seat.

You pinch his cheeks teasingly before kissing it. "You're so dramatic Jace." You joke, as your hands link with his.

"I'm a gentleman is what I am", he scoffs playfully walking in the house with you.

The music can be heard houses away, you wonder if any talking can be done with how loud it was in the party.

Your question was answered as you see Helaena rushing towards you both, mouthing something you can't hear as she engulf you and Jace in a group hug.

You spot Aemond and his brother playing poker and waves at them before yelling in Jace's ear that you're going to get yourself and him a punch.

He nods in understandingly before walking towards the poker table to his cousins.

"God, it's much more quieter here huh? I can finally hear myself talk" He breaths out as the two brothers chuckle before hugging him.

"Yeah well, we're not standing anywhere near the speakers so we'll be good here I think." Aegon speaks before winning againts Aemond. "You cheated! There's no way you've won, you never win." Aemond's tantrum has the other two boys laughing and having a roll in making fun of the uptight boy.

"See, I make sure to wait until you're, distracted to catch you off guard, you're just not used to smart players hm." Aemond curses at Aegon before walking away to refill his drink as his brother taunts him between laughter.

"So, how's the family?" Aegon asks, moving to sit down on the couch, joining in Jace.

"Oh, you know, they're, fine." He replies unconvincingly with a tight smile.

Aegon's own smile dropped as his expression slowly turned serious.

He takes Jace's hand in his and squeezes it as he looks at him with a concerned frown.

"I'm sorry by the way, with what happened, with Luc." Hearing his name made Jace's heart drop. Everyone absolutely refused to say it in the house, meanwhile everyone outside almost purposely refuse to stop saying it.

"He went too young, yeah? If you ever need to talk, or I don't know, take a smoke together, just give me a call.". Aegon offers with a sympathetic smile as he releases his hand and squeezes his shoulder instead.

Jace gives him a grateful smile and thanks him before getting up. "I think I'm gonna go look for my girl, she's supposed to get a drink for us a while ago."

"Oh she's probably with my sister's you know their inseparable once they meet." Jace agrees with a short laugh as they fist bump before he walks off to search for you.

True to Aegon's words, he spots you dancing with Helaena, laughing and failing trying not to step on your dress. The two of you had your hands holding eachother's as you do little jumps and you twirl Helaena in her butterfly costume around.

He stifle a laugh as he finds aemond near the both of you, hands full, holding your drinks and glaring every single person who dares look at either of you, like your personal bodyguard.

You slow down the spinning when you see him staring at you and excuse yourself at Helaena before reaching for your drink from Aemond and kissing his cheek as a thank you.

You grin widely as you.fikd yourself in his arms, looking up at him. "Hello there.", You scrunch your nose up at him.

He kisses the button of your nose before whispering ; "hello my bride."

Your eyes widen as realization hits you, "oh, I forgot to get your drink!" He just shakes his head and waves it off telling you it's fine and that he's not in the mood anyways.

Your eyes glowed as you pull him to the center to dance.

And he obliges, because how can he ever say no to you? He would do anything to see you smile, to keep you by his side.

As the songs become less upbeat, the two of you settle with swaying by the side away from most people, your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. He feels suffocated by strong s if alcohol and loud Doja Cat music, but as he rest his chin on your head and inhales your scent, grounding himself with you as he closes his eyes, his heart slowly calms down.

You were oblivious to his tense mind at first, but when you feel him holding you too tight, you lift your head and up and find him with tears welling up in his eyes.

He takes a deep breath as if to explain himself, but no words come out.

You don't push him though, you never do. You stand up on your tiptoes and kiss away his tears, holding his face in your palms and lastly, closing your mouth with his.

The gentleness of the kiss made the tears stream faster, you let him pull away to hide his have in your hair as you continue to embrace him.

"You wanna get out of here?" You ask, knowing he'll hate it if anyone saw him crying.

He nods softly and you brush off his tears one last time before taking his hand and quietly leaving through the door you entered from. Your cousins would understand.

He looks confused when you got into the driver's seat but says nothing as he lets you drive yourselves to a McDonald's parking lot.

He releases a heavy sigh and leans at his seat as you squeeze his hand and kisses it.

"Are you alright Jace?" Your question brought him back to reality as his eyes snaps open. He looks at you with tired eyes, mustering himself a small smile and gently nodding.

"I am now. Thank you my love."

You reply with a shake of your head and climbed on his lap, pulling has face in your arms and leaving kisses all over it as he closes his eyes.

The last kiss, on his nose making him smile, before leaning your forehead together.

You laugh at how big his eyes looked like from your view and he only smiles wider, silently thanking god that at least he still has you.

[ssahotchhner]

like real people do

PART TWO

hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:

words: 5837

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words

Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.

“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”

You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”

You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.

Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”

“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.

“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.

“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.

Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”

You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”

“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”

“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”

“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.

“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.

“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.” 

“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.

“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.

Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”

“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.

“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”

“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.

“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”

Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”

Reid winces, “Good luck.”

“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.

You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”

Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.

“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.

You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”

“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”

“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”

You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”

“Agent--”

“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”

He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.

Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”

“I screwed up, Rossi.” 

“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”

“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”

Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”

Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”

Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.

***

You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.

“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you. 

“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.” 

Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.

***

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.

“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.

“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”

“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.

“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”

“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.

You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.

***

“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.

“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”

Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.

“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”

He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”

You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”

“We’ll be right there.”

You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”

His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”

“He’s escalated. Why?”

You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”

Hotch nods, “Good work.”

He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.

***

You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.

“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”

When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.

“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.

Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”

You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.

***

You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”

She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”

You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”

“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”

“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”

***

“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”

“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.

“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”

“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.

“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”

“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”

“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”

Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”

Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”

“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”

You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”

“You’re upset.”

You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.

You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”

He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”

You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”

And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.

***

Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”

“Hotch is upset.”

“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.

“About you, obviously.”

You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”

“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”

You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”

“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”

You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”

He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”

“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.

But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”

“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”

Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”

“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”

You sigh, “I really hate being right.”

***

“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”

It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”

“Manual strangulation.”

“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”

Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”

“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”

“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”

“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”

“That’s what I told them.”

You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”

“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”

“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”

“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”

You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.

“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”

“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”

“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”

“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”

“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”

“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Penelope.”

You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”

Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”

“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”

You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.

He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.

He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”

You nod, “Makes sense.”

“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”

You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”

He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”

***

This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.

“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.

He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.

“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”

You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”

“I just told you, from class.”

“Did you ever see them outside of class?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”

“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.

You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.

You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”

“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”

You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”

Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”

Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”

“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”

His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”

“Men like me?”

“Men who know how to get what they want.”

His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”

He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”

You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”

His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”

“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”

He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.

“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.

“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”

He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”

“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”

“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”

“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.

He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”

When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”

And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.

“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”

Just like that he’s back, “Why don��t you uncuff me so we can continue?”

You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”

***

“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.

“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”

Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”

“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”

Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.

***

“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”

You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.

“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”

You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.

When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.

“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.

Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.

His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”

You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”

“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”

“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”

“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”

Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”

You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”

“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.

“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.

You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.

“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.

“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”

[ithehellisbucky]

Waking Up In Vegas

spencer reid x reader

request: prompts 87 (boop), 88 (that's such a bad idea- lets do it), 89 (Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool), 96 (I'm not crying, you are.) by anon

word count: 1.7k

warnings: Mentions of drug addiction, heavy drinking and blackout, that's it.

author's note: I've had this in my inbox for months, and I'm so sorry I didn't finish it sooner. Also, what do you want to see from my blog, it seems like I only post once a week for my fics and that's a no go from me.

~~~

The light was too loud- that's a wonderful thing to think when you remember nothing of the night before. You groaned and sat up, seeing that you were in a large bed with white covers. You scratched your head and looked around, noticing that the bedboard behind you was a large pink heart.

Looking down you realize that you're wearing a sequined red bikini top and a skirt scarf combo with booty shorts underneath. Drunk you does not have good fashion sense.

Before you can notice anything else, you start to feel puke crawling up your throat and you immediately run and vomit all your guts up.

You rinse your mouth out and notice that the blanket mound you left has shifted, and you become wary and pick up a heavy brass candlestick.

And then the lump rolls over, and it's your goddamn coworker.

"Reid?"

He startles and wakes up, staring at you and then glancing down at himself- huh, there was something wrong about that picture, but you couldn't figure out what it was just yet.

"y/n? What are you doing in my hotel room?" He pauses, looks around, then mutters under his breath "this isn't my hotel room."

He looks up at you "Since when are you married?"

"I'm not," You look down at your hand, noticing a giant red ruby adorning your ring finger "I am."

You look down at his hand and notice that he is too, "And so are you."

You and Spencer look around your room, both badly masking paranoia and panic. Both of your eyes stop when you notice a picture frame in the corner- a wedding certificate.

"Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool. This is fine, no big deal, just a marriage certificate," You move over and pick it up "with both of our names on it."

"Okay, this is okay, this is fine," Spencer says, sitting back down on the bed stunned.

"So, we're married, which is a thing that happened, last night, that you definitely remember." You say, sitting down next to your newly revealed husband.

"I don't remember."

"How do you not remember? You have super memory powers!"

"This is an excellent first fight to have as a married couple, of course, you blame me." He says, standing up and shrugging.

You meet his stance "Of course I blame you! You're the smart one!"

"Oh, well Agent, I wasn't aware that you had an IQ of 25!" He pauses "25 is the number associated by Henry H. Goodard to be an idiot, it's actually-"

"I know!" You exclaim, seething with half-hearted rage.

"You know, your the one who got an addict drunk!"

"Your vice isn't alcohol! If I drugged you I'd be a monster! You ordered that first bloody mary all by yourself, and those shots we did were totally consensual!!!"

He looked up at you "you remember that?"

You think, and notice memories that you didn't know were there, "um, yeah, bits and pieces."

From the expression he makes, he looks to be remembered more too. You and your new husband sit down and let it all hit you.

~~~

"4 tequila shots please." You wave down the bartender.

You're already buzzed, but you and Spencer were just getting warmed up. Morgan and Garcia left hours ago to go to a fancy restaurant, Rossi was planted firmly at the poker table, Hotch was nowhere to be seen, JJ had gone home to be with Henry, and Emily was at a "sin to win" night at some casino that you already knew too much about just by hearing the name.

So that leaves you and Spencer at the bar in the only casino in town he wasn't banned from.

At first, you were concerned about him drinking, but once he reassured that alcohol isn't his way of self-medicating, you were okay. Besides, if you saw any red flags, you would throw his ass in rehab faster than you can say 'gin'.

So, you were 5 drinks in and having the time of your lives, showing off battle scars and laughing. God, his eyes were pretty.

"Your eyes are so pretty!" You giggled "like soooooo pretty, woooooooow."

He laughed and looked back at you "your skin is pretty, like in a non-serial killer way, it's really pretty."

"Thank you, just don't kill me for it."

"I just called no murder!" He whined "besides, how am I sure you won't kill me and scoop my eyes out?"

"Because that's gross." You said, rolling your eyes.

"And stealing your skin isn't?"

"You can' have my skin!" You say, mock running away.

He laughs, and looks directly into your eyes, and smiles, wow, he was pretty. Morgan was right.

"Hey, do you wanna get out of here?" Spencer asks you.

"Yeah, let's get ice cream!" You grab his hand, and it feels natural through your foggy brain.

After stumbling through the ice cream parlor, full of people who were trying to pretend like they weren't. Spencer got butter pecan, and you got sherbert and chocolate.

You stumbled out of the store, giggling to yourself and Spencer.

God, you loved him. So you told him.

"I love you." He stopped in his tracks, and you almost tripped on a bicycle rack.

"Really?" He whispers.

All of the giggles are gone.

"I love you."

The ice cream is long forgotten, his on the ground, and half of yours on your clothes and half next to his on the ground. All that's left is your faces inching closer to each other.

When your lips meet it feels like firecrackers going off inside your head.

His mouth is soft, gently contrasting with your soft lips. His tongue sneaks into your mouth, your smile around his.

"Let's get married." He pulls apart from you, out of breath.

You stay silent for a moment, before looking up and directly into his chocolate brown eyes "That is such a bad idea-"

He diverts his eyes and scratches the back of his skull "Um, yeah, that's okay, let's-"

"Let's do it."

He looks back at you, and you grab his body and kiss him.

~~~

Sometimes people can be happy, you realize as an elderly woman ties a sash around your waist.

You have to be honest, you never thought this was gonna be how you were gonna get married. Hell, you weren't sure if you were gonna get married at all. But certainly not like this. Certainly not at 1 am to your coworker 7 drinks in at a cheap roadside attraction.

Definitely not like this.

But something about this weirdness felt like the only way anything ever would've made any sense.

There was something about the outfit you were wearing that was perfect, a bright red bra covered in sequins underneath a top with buttons and poofy sleeves that showed off a lot of your chest, a wrap-around cheap white silk skirt with jeans shorts underneath. And of course purple open-toed boots. Perfect.

Marrying Spencer Reid is like a fever dream. A perfect man with perfect hair and perfect eyes. So of course you were giggling like crazy while they put the cheap crown with pink tulle serving as a veil on your head.

Your witnesses were an elderly couple, of course, you wanted to have your best friends there, but knowing them they'd try to talk you out, and believe me, there was no way you wanted out of it.

"Now's time dear," the woman exclaims, gently patting you on the shoulder and leading you out of the fitting room and towards the chapel.

The owner of the business hooks his arm around yours and leads you into the chapel, church bells from an iPod attached to a speaker ringing out into the air.

Spencer turns around the air visibly leaves his lungs when you make eye contact. The chapel you two had chosen in this drunken haze was costume-themed, and he was wearing an ancient Rome costume that fit the time where his favorite philosopher, so even though no one else noticed, you could tell he was dressed as Gaius.

His hair had been attempted to slick back, but little curls were popping up all over the place instead. He was wringing his hands tightly and bouncing his knee, god you couldn't wait to marry him.

The elderly man who had led you to the alter places you next to Spencer, you couldn't focus on anything but your soon-to-be-husband.

Spencer takes his hands and gently pulls your veil up from around your face, and a tear trickles out of his eyes as he sees you. You smile and notice his nerves, try to calm the love of your life down "boop", you gently tap his nose and he smiles in comfort.

The officiant drones on and on about love but you can't hear him, all you can focus on is his love-filled eyes.

"Do you take Spencer Reid to be your husband?"

Your eyes snap out of their daze and you say with the most certainty than you have ever said anything: "I do."

"And do you take (y/n) (y/l/n) to be your life partner for as long as you may live?"

"I do," And you feel more wanted than you ever have in your life, he wants you, Spencer wants you.

~~~

You and Spencer sit on your bed in stunned silence, neither believing that last night had really happened. You look over at your apparent husband and notice tears streaming down his face.

"You're crying." You say, your voice coming out as a chocked whisper.

"I'm not crying, you are." You look down and notice that your shirt is soaked in tears.

"Oh." You take a deep breath and look into his eyes. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Get an annulment?" He doesn't look completely happy about his answer and stares into your eyes for reassurance.

You take a deep breath and stare off into the distance, out into a world that would be so much better if you were married to Spencer Reid. "I don't want that."

You look back at him to meet his eyes, "Me neither."

"I love you, a lot, and I want to be married to you." Spencer smiles, and you feel wanted and safe and loved.

Instead of saying it back, he kissed you with a passion that was way more descriptive than simple words. Spencer is your husband and you love him, he loves you, and you are finally wanted.

~~

My Masterlist

Requests are open!

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers​

Marvel:

Criminal Minds:

[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 13:

Gif credit: @hqtchner

A/N: I toyed with several ideas for this one, but I wanted the reader to be strong in her own right which is why this takes the direction it does.

Warnings: Strong depictions of violence, assault, blood, vomiting. Graphic injury, choking, gun violence.

———

“What you remember saves you.” - W.S Merwin

———

“You don’t like what I’ve done with the place?” 

“Jordan.” You breathe. “What did you do?” 

His jaw sets. His expression goes from glee to fury and he’s next to you in a flash, nose to nose, dragging your head back by the hair on the nape of your neck. A wince escapes your mouth when the pulling sends a sting up your scalp. 

“What do you mean, what did I do? Isn’t it obvious?” He sneers, punctuating his words with another pull of your hair. 

You cry out in pain, your neck straining. The rabid look in his eyes and his bared teeth send shivers down your spine.

He continues, “I made sure you were going to stay all...mine.” He whispers, releasing his grip, smoothing the top of your head. “Isn’t it sweet? I did it all so I could have you all to myself… and instead of thanking me, you’re acting like you’re above me. Like you always do. Maybe I need to teach you how to be grateful-” 

“I’ll be grateful.” You offer in a quick breath. “I mean- I am. I am grateful. I was just so…” You swallow thickly, tearing your eyes away from the pictures, “Surprised that you did all this. For me.” You fight the tears pricking your eyes. 

“You mean that?” 

You swallow the bile rising in your throat. “Yes. I do.” 

“Good. Y’know all I ever wanted was us to be together? When you broke up with me, I admit, I was angry. I thought you were fucking somebody else.” He paces the length of the room and that’s when your gaze falls to the gun he has tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “But I realised you couldn’t possibly.”

You brace yourself when his gaze falls to his handiwork on the walls. 

“But then…” He inhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I saw you with him.” His volume rises steadily. “I send you gifts, I send you letters, I give you clues, I even draw blood for you and you repay me by parading around another man?!” 

You cry out when he delivers a blow to the left side of your face, a crack resounding in the room. Your skin blisters red hot where he strikes you, you swear he’s torn open some skin on your cheek. It sends your head spinning, you figure you’re already nursing a concussion, this just makes it worse. 

“That’s not-”

“Don’t you interrupt me.” He spits, his face close enough for you to smell the bourbon on his breath. “You had him come to my house today, try to scare me? He thinks he’s a big powerful man, FBI… that badge doesn’t mean shit, he doesn’t know who I am.” 

“Jordan-”

“What was it about him anyway? You could’ve had me, you know, we could’ve been a dynasty.” He’s grandstanding. Always did have a problem with his fragile ego. He turns his back to you, scanning the pictures on the wall. “He’ll get what’s coming to him. I’m having it taken care of.” He mutters.

Your blood runs cold. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re not stupid, you couldn’t possible have thought that I’d let him live?” 

Your heart skips. The ‘other guy’ that was to be taken care of - Hotch.

“Jordan, no. It wasn’t like that, I swear.” He turns slowly, rage behind his eyes that’s only thinly veiled by a psychotic smile. “There’s nothing between us! Please don’t do this. I’m begging you, don’t do this.” You plead.

“Why do you care?”

“-What?”

“Why… do you… care?” His eyes are fanatical, nostrils flared. “If nothing happened between you, why do you care what happens to him?” 

You know why now.

“Because I don’t want anyone to die! Him, Emily, anybody! I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” You stutter through your sobs. “Please don’t do this.” 

“You don’t want him to die? How stupid do you think I am?” He grabs the back of your head and directs you to a picture of you and Hotch on the gazebo - the day you’d met. “You look at him like that because he’s a friend?” He spits. 

He’s right, though - that’s the thing. 

You don’t know how you didn’t realise sooner, how you didn’t see it sooner. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t see your own face when you were around him, but the way you look at him, your smile. 

You don’t think you’ve looked at anybody like that before. 

Tears roll down your cheeks now, eyes welling over. 

He smooths over your hair, straightening out his own shirt. “I will make it quick though. Humane. I owe him that much.” 

“What?” 

“I owe him. How do you think you got here?” When you can’t formulate the words he continues, “Hm, let me spell it out for you.” He continues his rapid pacing, fingers compulsively scratching his neck. “We break up, you betray me, so I leave the country. I come back, try to get you back, you betray me, again. FBI man comes into the picture, his girlfriend feels neglected, said girlfriend then conveniently runs into me at a bar after an argument, confides in me and starts sleeping with me. She’s a real peach, though. Total Type-A, wouldn’t let me fuck her raw.” He adds, rolling his eyes. 

You feel nauseous. 

You wonder if Hotch knows. 

He goes on, “I fuck her, she tells me everything I want to know. Including the fact that she thought he was cheating on her.” He laughs bitterly. “I thought we might have had something when you called me a few months ago, remember that? That was a good time.” Your stomach turns when you think back to the worst mistake you’d ever made. “But then you stopped taking my calls, I put two together from there, figured you were fucking him. I knew then that he had to die.” He rolls his eyes. 

His smile reveals a row of eerily straight teeth but there’s nothing behind his eyes except a sick kind of glee. 

“It wasn’t like that, I swear to you, he never touched me.” You plead with him, desperately. You reckon with the fact that if you couldn’t regain control of this situation, Hotch would die. “Look, I’ll do anything.” 

“Anything?” 

“I swear. Anything. Just call it off, please.” He considers your statement for a moment, kneeling down between your knees again. He makes a point to flash you his gun, the silver glinting, before reaching for a switchblade that’s tucked into his back pocket. You flinch when he brings it purposely closer to you but he cuts you free. 

“I’m going to test you. Stay here with me. You run, I kill him.” He lays the knife flat against your bruised cheek, “Then I kill you.” He whispers. You wince when the sharp edge breaks a thin layer of skin and you feel a warm trail of blood on your cheek. 

You nod desperately, agreeing. “I swear. I’ll do anything, just call it off.” 

Just as he finishes cutting you free, his phone vibrates against the wooden table under the window. He excuses himself, face lighting up for a moment. You try your best to hear, but the voice on the other end is indistinguishable. 

Jordan’s responses are short. 

“Fitz.”

“Hello?” He presses the phone closer to his ear. “Lawrence? It’s done?” He smiles at the response from the other side. 

“30 minutes.” He hangs up and rattles off a quick text message before setting the phone down again. 

He sighs, concealing his unhinged glee when he turns to look at you. “Bad news babe.” He says tutting, knowingly with a disturbing smile. “I know I said I’d call it off but,” he waves the phone in the air, “it’s already done. Your friend, Aaron?”

Oh please, no. Don’t say it. 

“He’s dead.” 

———

Once the first bang reverberates in the nurses’ station, time seems to move in slow motion. McCall yells for everybody to get down, cocking his gun. Panic erupts for a moment before everybody falls to the ground, the first shot already fired. 

Where it comes from, who fires first, it isn’t clear, the whole thing in reality is over in a matter of seconds but time still seems to stop. 

Now, McCall kneels over a dead body, hyper-aware of eyes on him, “He’s gone.” He whispers. 

A hand grips his shoulder from behind as he stares down at the corpse in front of him laying in a pool of blood, three bullet holes in the chest. 

His ears still ring. 

“Hey. Emily’s fine. I had two cops posted outside her door.” He turns to find Hotch, who can’t tear his eyes away from Officer Lawrence’s dead body in front of them. 

They’re about to let medical personnel clear out the area and wheel him away in a body bag when Hotch spots something in Lawrence’s scrub pockets. 

“Wait! Hold it a sec?” He asks, retrieving a piece of paper and cellphone from Lawrence. They make their way back to Emily’s hospital room in unison.

McCall looks at him, puzzled. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, why?”

“That was the first person you ever shot, right? He’s dead. You’re allowed to not be okay.” 

“I’m fine - I need to focus. I need to get her back.” He’d be lying if he said his hands weren’t trembling but he has more pressing matters on his hand. The need to get you back safe and sound outweighs any personal conflict for him. He unfolds the piece of paper, muttering aloud a series of numbers. “It’s a phone number. What’d you wanna bet it’s Jordan?” He does a double take when he sees his own name written in capital letters on the other side of the paper, passing it to McCall. 

“Some vendetta, hm? He was sent to kill you.” McCall takes the phone from Hotch and starts to dial when Hotch places a stalling arm on his. 

“Wait.”

He dials Garcia’s number deftly, asks her to search for a location on the number before they call it, but to his disappointment, it’s a prepaid. He then has Garcia set up a track and trace before he lets McCall dial the number.

“Ready, Garcia?” 

The phone rings three times before it’s answered, Jordan’s voice curt and straight to the point, assuming it’s Lawrence. Hotch can hear Garcia’s typing and beeping but when McCall doesn’t say anything, Jordan takes matters into his own hands. 

“It’s done?” Jordan asks outright. 

“Yes.” McCall replies with little inflection, keeping his voice even so as to not arouse suspicion. Jordan gives McCall a time - 30 minutes, before snapping the phone shut. 

McCall tries the number again, but it’s dead. Destroyed. 

“Garcia, anything?” Hotch asks desperately. 

“No, sir, it was barely long enough to triangulate the call, I’m sorry.” 

“Keep searching, Garcia, we need this address. Look for something in isolation, out of the way. It’s gotta mean something to him.”

“Yes, sir. Typing as we speak.”

Hotch rubs an exasperated hand over his beard, “Y’know the media can’t get wind of this, if he has access to a TV or radio and sees I’m alive? He’ll kill her.” He shudders as the words leave his mouth, making way for the possibility that he does not want to reckon with. 

You might already be dead. 

He dials quickly “Chief Barnes? I need a favour.”

———

He’s been pacing the length of Emily’s hospital room for the past twenty minutes, waiting for Chief Barnes to call in every favour he can to keep the media at bay so they can keep up the charade. He increases the TV volume opposite Emily’s bed when he sees a news report flash across the scene. 

“Good evening, everybody. We come to you live tonight with some breaking news.” 

He braces himself. Did Barnes manage to cover the hit on him?

“The daughters of two US Ambassadors have reportedly been involved in what appears to be a multi-car collision in the Virginia countryside, earlier tonight.” 

Two pictures appear side by side of you and Emily. 

“The daughter of Ambassador Prentiss was rushed to hospital earlier tonight and remains in critical condition at Bridgepoint Hospital after sustaining multiple injuries. The daughter of the US Ambassador to France however, is reported to be missing. The Ambassador himself is reportedly unaware of his daughter’s condition, presumed to be en-route to Paris tonight. Three people were pronounced dead at the scene, including Metro PD officers Evan Matthews and Howard Denton.”

He waits anxiously for any mention of his own name or Jordan, Lawrence, but the anchor passes over to the correspondent.

He sighs in relief, just as his phone rings. 

“Garcia?”

“I think I finally have a location on Fitzgerald. I checked for any and all properties under Senator Fitzgerald’s name, his second and third wives, his spawn’s name, even the Fitzgerald Family Trust. Nada.” She pauses for breath. “So. I dug down deeper. I searched instead for any properties under Sloan Marie Fitzgerald - still nothing. But then I chanced a search under her maiden name, Hamilton, and wouldn’t you know - the Hamilton family had a cabin between Rock Creek Park and Montgomery County. The late Mrs. Fitzgerald would take him to said cabin most summers before she died.”

“Alright, good work. Send us-”

“I'm not even going to let you finish that sentence, because it’s quite frankly insulting. Coordinates are on their way to you now, Sirs.”

Hotch huffs a laugh, it’s the most he can muster right now. He knows he owes Garcia a massive bouquet of flowers after all this is over. 

He grabs McCall by his jacket. “Suit up. We’ve got an address.” 

———

‘He’s dead.’ 

The onset of shock and unmistakable rise of nausea had caused you to retch violently and empty the contents of your stomach into the nearest toilet. 

Your legs had given out then, and you’re now planted on a dusty armchair, finding yourself staring into nothingness, your body still stinging with the shock and injuries you’d sustained. 

It’s all you’ve done for the past fourty something minutes. The blood stays rushing in your ears, and the pounding in your head is unrelenting. You haven’t said a word since, your body’s energy drained. You’re almost catatonic, unable to even shed a few tears for Hotch’s death. 

He’s dead. He’s dead because of you. 

You think back to the first time you met, he’d been so bright eyed and optimistic. Disarming. You think about the way he’d told you about his hopes and dreams, his plans for the future as a profiler. He’d had so much to live for. All of that had been ripped away from him because he’d gotten involved in your case. It was your fault he was dead. 

And you didn’t know how you were going to make it out of this. Your limbs feel like concrete - fatigue, shock and grief make it hard to formulate any kind of rational thought. Jordan’s hand comes to smooth the top of your head once again, but the gesture is far from comforting or loving. 

“It’s okay. You’ll see in time, this was for the best. This way, there aren’t any distractions.” He whispers. He’s been pacing the length of the cabin, repeatedly checking his second burner as though he’s awaiting some news. 

He resumes his pacing when you finally break your silence, your voice hoarse. 

“You killed a man.” You whisper. 

“What’s that?” 

“You killed a man.” You sob quietly. “You had someone killed, that doesn’t mean anything to you?” 

“Oh I did more than just have your little lover killed. I made sure your father and that Prentiss bitch were taken care of too.” 

Your vision tunnels, a high-pitched whine penetrating your skull. You feel like the ground has just been ripped from under you, like you’re falling. You can feel your heart shatter, the splintering fragments of your life piercing your skin. 

“My father? He’s not here. He’s-”

He glances at his watch. “-On his way to Paris?” You feel the bile rising again. “I know. Like I said, I’m having it all taken care of. They’re all dead, babe - or will be, soon.” He brings a hand to your face, brushing his thumb over your cut. “Don’t you see? I did it so I could have you all to myself.” 

The glee in his voice provokes something in you, a rage you’ve never felt before. You figure you have nothing else to lose, everything and everyone you ever loved is dead, you’d either fight and die quicker, or you’d stay and die slowly. 

In a move that stuns even you, you spit on Jordan’s face and bring your hand up to strike him notwithstanding the piercing pain in your ribs. The flat of your palm makes sharp contact with his bearded cheek. The sound echoes in the room, and your own hand stings from the force, but a minute satisfaction settles into your bones. 

He takes a minute to steady himself, but when he turns to look at you, his eyes flash with something you’ve never seen in a person before. In one fell swoop, he drags you to stand by your hair, pushing you into a glass frame against the wall. 

The glass shatters, puncturing the skin on your cheek and forearm where you bear the brunt of the impact. He lands two blows to your stomach, causing you to keel over, winding you. The pain blooms to your already bruised ribs, your breaths ragged. He grabs you then by the throat, pinning you against the wall, your breaths coming short and constricted. 

He shakes you against the wall, his hand tight around your throat, cutting off your air. “You ever pull something like that again, I’ll kill you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.” He growls in a low voice. “Do you understand me?” You can feel the blood pumping in your face, your eyes starting to bulge. 

You drive your knee into his crotch with all the force you can muster, exactly like Hotch had taught you. You then go for his shin that only gives you mere seconds to grab your breath when he lets you go in pain. 

You fall with him, knees giving out when you gasp for breath, and when you see him charging towards you again, you reach to your right for a dusty glass vase that sits on a single table. You manage to get yourself back on your feet right as he’s about to make contact with you again, the butt of the vase smashing into his skull. 

He cries out in pain as he falls to the ground again on all fours, blood streaming down his face. A gash on his forehead seeps blood and several pieces of glass are embedded in his face. 

You’re still trying to catch your own breath when you spot the silver glint of his 9mm catch the light in his back pocket. 

This is your chance.

You half-crawl, half-run to him, landing a violent kick to his stomach to strike him down. You grab the gun from his back pocket, stumbling a little from the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your hands trembling. You check the magazine and load it as fast as your hands will allow.

You grip the Beretta just as Hotch had taught you, wrapping your dominant hand around the magazine, your index finger parallel to the chamber. Your other hand wraps around your dominant, as you stand over him.

“Get up.” You snarl. “Get up, NOW!” You order him through your coughs. 

He turns around slowly, slipping twice on his way up, groaning with the exertion. His face mirrors your own, a gash on his lip and forehead, blood streaming down his cheek. 

He chuckles darkly, revealing a set of shark-like teeth that are covered in his blood. “Oh… you think you’re hot shit. You even know how to use that thing? Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

Your body aches feverishly and you swear you could pass out at any minute, vision blurry. You can feel your grip loosening and you’re trying to centre yourself when Jordan takes advantage of your momentary slip. 

He lunges for you in a flash, knife in hand. 

———

“We’re about a mile out, I want sirens and lights off. He can’t know we’re coming.” Hotch says into his radio. He’s watching the road ahead as they get deeper into the woods, the off-road terrain making it hard to keep control of the SUV. 

They’re backed up at rear by three MPD police cars, Chief Fuller’s attempt at making nice with Hotch after their earlier altercation.

He swallows thickly, his mouth like cotton. He knows he can’t afford one wrong move, not here. Not with you. He needs to get you back. He made a promise to Emily. 

He’ll die trying. 

He keeps a firm grip on your chain, rubbing it one last time for steady luck before tucking it into his shirt pocket. 

A clearing of trees reveals another path to them. It leads off into the distance, to a small wooden cabin around 80 feet away. It’s illuminated by amber light emanating from a single window. 

“Alright, guys. Nice and slow, headlights off, we’re gonna dismount now. Everybody out.” He whispers into the comms once they clear another 50 feet. 

Leaves rustle underneath their feet as they stealthily approach the cabin, guns cocked. Hotch has three cops flanking him and McCall brings up the rear, covering the back exit. 

They’re almost at the entrance when a loud bang resounds from inside, and Hotch short circuits, his knuckles white around his glock. 

Inside the cabin, you send Jordan flying with a shot to his shoulder, the smell of gun smoke burning your nostrils. Your hands tremble violently, your mind temporarily blanking - you feel like you’re swimming. Your ears ring from the noise, a high-pitched whine piercing your brain. 

There’s another bang almost immediately after Jordan stumbles backwards but you’re sure you only fired one shot. 

Jordan’s body in front of you is your only focal point, so much so that it’s only when you see McCall and two cops approach him writhing on the floor that you come back into your body. 

You realise the second bang had been them kicking down the front door. Your hands on the Beretta loosen just slightly and you let out a deep exhale. The voices in the room are still swimming as your brain slowly catches up. 

“Grab her.” McCall’s voice calls out. He shouts into the comms that he needs medics, and suddenly there’s a distinct feeling of a hand on your wrist and a body next to you. You reassure yourself that Jordan is on the ground so you let your hands fall limp, dropping the gun and it falls to the ground with a sharp clack. Your eyes are still trained on McCall pressing on Jordan’s wound. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” The voice cuts through your still-ringing ears. 

You know that voice. 

You’d know that voice anywhere. 

Your heart thunders, and your lips start to tremble as you try to reconcile everything you thought was reality with what’s really in front of you. 

You turn slowly to find an achingly familiar pair of warm hazel eyes. 

He’s alive. 

“Aaron?” You sob. You reach out for him but he catches you before you can stumble, his arms steady around your waist. He whispers into your hair, bringing a protective hand up to cradle your head as you sob into his chest. 

“It’s okay. I got you. I told you I’d come for you.” 

His voice is the last thing you hear before you black out, your body finally offering you some well-earned reprieve.

———

Tags:​ @oreogutz @andromedasstarship @galacticnerd-78 @izzyl13 @bananabucky @crying-river @purpledragonturtles @gabbysblogthingy​ @archiveofadragon​ @yoshigguk @acidicbloody @jeor @ivebeenthinkingboutu​ @bauslut @averyhotchner @vashanatasha @hotchwhore15 @pjmjams @slxtherinchxser

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[markandlexies]

The One With Will and JJ’s Wedding - Part 1

Summary: Based off of 7.23 and 7.24 of Friends! Will and JJ’s wedding is approaching and troubles arise when Will starts to panic and doesn't want to go through with it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (Female) 

Word Count: 5,115k

A/N: This is my first time writing anything like this but I love Friends and Criminal Minds and this is one of my favorite plot lines ever. I could make this a series if anybody is interested, again I’m new to this and barely even know how to use Tumblr lmao so pls be nice!!! There isn't all that much pairing of Spence and reader here but I really loved writing the relationships between the characters and I’ll def go more into detail in later chapters! If you guys have an Friends episode you would wanna see written with the criminal minds characters, feel free to send me a request! Enjoy!

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“Do you guys realize that this is the last time we’re all going to be here in O’Keefes as all single people?” JJ sighed, fiddling with her thumbs. You smiled at this, leaning on the arm of the couch, JJ sitting to your right. Emily sat on the couch also, squeezed in next to Garcia. Reid nursed a cup of coffee on the love seat to the left, while Hotch, Rossi and Morgan sat around the small table listening intently to their friend. 

“Why, what’s happening to O’Keefes?” Garcia questioned, not understanding what JJ was trying to say. 

Everyone just stared at her, used to this kind of behavior, and waited for the lightbulb. 

“Ohhh! Right!”

“I cant believe in just two days I’ll be Mrs. LaMontagne. God, it’s just- we’ve been waiting for so long and now the day is finally here,” JJ smiled to herself, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“I’m so excited for you, Jaje,” you smiled, resting your hand on her knee and giving it a light squeeze. She placed her hand over yours, “I just can’t help but be nervous, you know?” 

“Of course, that’s normal! But actually, it’s been statistically proven that men are more nervous about marriage than woman. About 60% of men get cold feet-“ 

The sentence was cut short with a yelp as you kicked Spencer in the shin, urging him to stop. 

Morgan cleared his throat as JJ laughed nervously. “But that’s not gonna happen... right?” 

“Hey, don’t look at me...” Rossi chuckled. 

“N-no of course not!” You stammered, trying to calm the bride to be’s nerves. “Spence, what are the statistics of couples that actually end up happy together?” 

“Well actually about 50% to 60% of marriages end in divorce, but that doesn’t count factors such as death-“ he started.

“Well would you look at the time, we gotta go!” Garcia said, putting an end to this conversation before it could get any worse. 

“Where are you guys going?” Hotch asked, taking a sip of his drink. 

“We’re going to pick up the wedding dress and then go have lunch with my Mom,” JJ exclaimed as the girls all stood up to gather their belongings. Morgan got up with them, leaving Spencer, Rossi and Hotch to exchange questioning looks. 

“Derek, you’re having lunch with JJ’s mom?” Rossi asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“No... I just heard lunch...”

-

After lunch, the girls sat around the apartment as JJ went over her list of things that still needed to be done in order for her big day. 

“So what else do you have on that list?” Emily asked as she delicately applied a second coat of polish to her right hand. 

“Oh, this is a different list. This is my list of all the things that could go wrong at the wedding,” she said as she wrote a couple more notes on the paper before her. 

As she was met with silence she continued on, “You know, that way I could be prepared.”

“...Well, what do you have so far?” Garcia chimed in.

“So far I have, my bridesmaids dresses won’t get picked up, my veil gets lost or I don’t have my something blue-“

“Hey! Those are all the things I’m responsible for!” You interrupted, putting your coffee mug down. 

“I had to do with the odds, Y/N/N!” 

Before you could interject again, Will waltzed through the door. You all greeted him with a smile as he stood behind JJ’s chair, placing a  kiss on the top of her head. 

“What are you guys up to?” He asked, his hands finding their way to JJ’s shoulders. 

“Just finishing my list of all the things that could go wrong at the wedding. You can never be too sure,” she shrugged, making a couple of more notes. 

Will shook his head laughing, “Oh, relax! Everything will be perfectly fine.” 

“Yeah!” You chimed in. “Stop looking for things to go wrong, you don’t want to jinx it!” 

“Exactly!” He agreed, walking over to the fridge to grab a beer. “So, who’s excited for 7:00 tonight?” 

You all just stared at him as Garcia walked behind JJ, tearing the page off the notepad. “You might want to start a, ‘What Could Go Wrong at the Rehearsal Dinner’ list. One: Will forgets the time.” 

“Will! I told you a thousand times it’s 6:30!” JJ huffed immediately scribbling down on her new paper. You grab the notepad and clutch it to your chest. “Will you stop it? He’s just messing with you! He knows it’s at 6:30!” You turn around at his wide eyed figure. “Right?” 

“Uh- yeah! I knew it was 7:00 I was just kidding-“

“6:30!” You all yelled in unison. 

“That’s what I meant!”

“You’re killing me here, Will!” You whispered before turning back around to your best friend. “Jaje, everything will be perfectly fine! Everything is going to go as planned!” 

“She’s right! You need to stop worrying!” Emily laughed, blowing on her nails. 

JJ nodded, “Yeah, you guys are right...” She stood up walking to her fiancé, “Can you believe that tomorrow we’re gonna be married?!” He smiled at her before giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Yes, and I’m so excited for you to finally be Mrs. LaMontagne.” 

You all smiled at the interaction, none of you could be happier for the pair in front of you. 

“I just cant believe we made it!” She swooned, grabbing his hands in hers. 

“Well, you don’t have to sound so surprised!” Will scoffed. 

“It’s just- never mind.” She started, walking to put some dishes in the sink. 

“What?” Will laughed, following her as she walked. 

“Well... honestly,” she started, “... ever since we’ve gotten engaged I’ve been waiting for something to... you know, flip you out.”

You all giggled, silently agreeing. It was no question that Will loved JJ, but he had a tendency to overthink. 

“Honestly, me too... I keep waiting for something stupid to come up that’ll make me freak out and go all... Will. But nothing has.”

She turned around and smiled at him, caressing his face. “I’m so glad. Thank you so much for staying so calm during all of this.” She placed another kiss to his lips before slipping into the bathroom. 

You all sat in comfortable silence for a moment before the phone started ringing. Before anyone could volunteer to answer it, it had stopped, automatically going to voicemail. 

“Hi! If you’re calling before Saturday, you’ve reached JJ and Will! But if you’re calling after Saturday, you’ve reached Mr and Mrs. LaMontagne! Please leave a message for the LaMontagnes!” 

The girls all giggled, having been there when JJ recorded it, assuming Will had heard it already. You all continued what you were doing and missed the look of panic that was only being discussed not too long ago. Will started to sweat profusely and loosen his tie a bit, feeling he was being choked to death. 

The LaMontagnes.

-

The rehearsal dinner had gone smoothly for the most part, nobody realizing the panic that had been struck into Will just hours before. 

Before they knew it, the night had ended and their big day had begun. The girls had been sitting around like they were the previous day, eating breakfast and chatting, excited for what was ahead. JJ was prancing around the apartment, nervously fluffing pillows and moving magazines in a straight line, she had so much adrenaline and didn’t know what to do with it. 

Little did she know that across the hall, Spencer and Derek were tearing the apartment apart looking for the groom to be. Will had been staying with them the night before, being that JJ wanted the wedding day to be as traditional as possible, which meant they were not to see each other until she was walking down the aisle. 

“Will! Come on, buddy. Time to wake up!” Morgan huffed, knocking on the door. 

After no answer, Spencer called, “Will...”

No answer again. The men exchanged questioning looks as came to agreement their next move was to just walk in. Opening the door, they were met with a neatly tucked bed. They looked at each other confused. Derek walked in going to see if there was an trace of where he went as Spencer walked towards the kitchen. 

He stopped in his tracks as his eyes met with a piece of yellow paper sitting on the counter. “Morgan...” He started, walking over to read what it said. 

“What is it, Pretty Boy?” Derek asked his, standing next to Reid. 

“Oh no.”

The boys ran across the hall, knocking feverishly on the door in front of them. They were met with your smile, “What’s up, you guys?”

Your smile quickly faded as you saw their worried faces. 

“Is JJ in here?” Morgan asked in a hushed tone. 

“She’s steaming her dress, why?” Garcia answered coming behind you. 

The boys walked in the door a little further. Spencer looked up at you, pulling the paper out of his pocket. “I think Will’s gone...”

You reluctantly took the paper out of Spencer’s hands, Garcia looking down to read it with you. 

“Tell JJ I’m sorry.”

You met Spencer’s eyes with disbelief of what was in front of you. The group had soon enough caught Emily’s attention and she walked over. 

“What’s up?” She asked as you placed the note in her hands. 

“Tell JJ I’m sorry,” she read aloud. She looked up at Morgan, shoving the note in his hands, “Tell her yourself!” 

You pinched the bridge of your nose as she attempted to walk away, grabbing her by the forearm and pushing everybody outside the door. 

“Oh my God! Will just left her?” You cried, running your hands through your hair. 

“Okay, yeah! But maybe it’s not what we think! Maybe it’s, ‘Tell JJ I’m sorry... I drank the last of the milk!” Morgan said, desperately trying to convince himself also. 

“Oh!” Garcia nodded excitedly, “Or maybe h- he was writing to tell her that he’s changed his name, you know! Uh- Tell JJ I’m ‘Sorry.’”

You and Spencer looked at each other in annoyance before Spencer whisper shouted, “I think it means he freaked out and left!” 

“Don’t he so negative! God, isn’t it possible ‘Sorry’ is sitting in there right now!” Garcia whisper shouted back at Reid. 

Spencer put his head in his hands and before it could escalate any further you put your hand on Garcia’s shoulder and said, “Okay, I-I think Spencer is right. What are we gonna do?” 

Spencer sighed, “Well, me and Derek are gonna have to go find him and bring him back.” You all nodded in agreement. 

“You guys make sure JJ doesn’t find out, okay?” Morgan added, clearly stressed. 

You all started to go your separate ways as you noticed Garcia following you and Emily back into the apartment. 

“Oh! No you don’t!” Emily started, blocking the door with her arm. 

“W-what-“ Garcia stammered confused. 

You called back to the boys who were walking out of their apartment again, jackets  and phones in hand, “She’s coming with you guys.”

“Good call,” Spencer laughed.

“What are you talking about?!” Garcia huffed looking back and forth between the group. 

“Pen, we need JJ to not find out! You’d blow our cover in seconds!” You said nudging her towards the guys. 

“Oh, come on! That’s not fair-“

“Babygirl, you know you can’t keep secrets-“

“Oh, fine!” She rolled her eyes, walking away with them.

You and Emily walked back into the apartment as JJ excitedly ran out of her room with wet hair and a robe clinging to her body. “I’m getting married today!” The sentence ended with a yelp as she fell to the floor, you and Emily running to her aid but quickly coming to a halt as she picked herself up, not even phased. 

“Think I just cracked a rib...” she started, her smile still intact. “But I don’t care because today’s my wedding day! My day is finally here! I’m gonna start getting ready!” She ran back into the room clapping and squealing. 

“You know... she might not even notice he’s gone,” Emily shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. 

Tears prickled at your eyes and you put your head in your hands. “She cant start getting ready! This is too awful!” 

“Shh!”

“She’ll be in the gown, and then he won’t show up! And she’s gonna have to take off the gown! It’s gonna be so awful-“ You started, panic running through your veins. 

“Y/N, stop it! You cant do this out here!” Emily rolled her eyes, pulling you into the bathroom. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s just so sad!” You cried, gripping the sink and shaking your head. 

“You have got to pull yourself together! JJ cant see you like this or else she’ll know something is wrong!” Emily urged rubbing your shoulder in an effort to calm you down. 

“I know, I’m sorry. God, there’s no tissue!” You groaned looking around the sink, “Can you grab me some toilet paper?” 

There was no toilet paper either, Emily looked down into the trash can. “Oh... I found some...” She hesitantly reached into the can, pulling out some crumpled toilet paper and handing it to you. 

“Thank you, Em,” you sniffled, wiping away your tears, “Can I have another one?”

Emily scratched the back of her head, cringing as she looked down at the trash can again. “Sure...”

She pulled the sleeve of her shirt up before reaching in again, pulling out some more. “Need some floss?” She suggested, shaking it in front of you with her hand. 

You ignored her as you continued with your tears, “I just cant imagine what is going to happen if Will doesn’t show up.”

Emily continued to look through the can. 

“I mean, she’s gonna be at the wedding waiting for him! And people are gonna be whispering, ‘Oh, that poor girl!’ You know! And then she’ll have to come back here and live all alone,” you shook your head, turning to face the previously steamed wedding dress hanging up on the shower rod. 

“Oh my God.”

“What?” you asked, eyes never leaving the beautiful dress that you hoped to see your best friend in later that day. 

“There was a pregnancy test in the garbage and it’s positive.”

Your eyes widened as you turned to face Emily and the little stick in her hands.

“JJ’s pregnant.”

Your hand instantly shot up to your mouth. 

Emily sighed, “So I guess she won’t be totally alone.”

“Oh my God,” you whispered. 

“Can you believe it? JJ’s gonna have a baby!” Emily said in disbelief, “Hey, can this count as her something new?”

You were at a loss for words, this was bad. 

“Do you think this is why Will took off?”

You shook your head, biting your nails, “No, she had to of just taken this test. I took out the trash last night.”

Emily looked back down at the little stick, “This is turning into the worst wedding day ever! The bride is pregnant, the groom is missing... and I’m still holding this!” She shuddered as she dropped it back into the trash.

“Em...” you started, meeting her eyes, “we cannot tell anyone about this.”

“Right... yeah. Okay,” she nodded standing up from her spot on the toilet seat, you following her movement to the door. 

“Wait do you know what kind’ve birth control she was using?”

“No, why?” you asked. 

“Just for the future, this is hardly a commercial for it!” You tried to laugh but nothing came out, you were screwed. 

-

“Anything?” You asked as you walked into Spencer and Morgan’s apartment. 

“Nothing! And we looked everywhere!” Garcia groaned from her spot on the couch. 

You all shook your head in disbelief, this was a nightmare. 

“I am going to kick his ass when I see him! I’m starting to think we don’t really even know this guy! I mean think about it, does anybody else ever really understand him when he’s speaking?” Morgan huffed, looking around for an answer. 

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up, Derek! He’s just freaking out! We should’ve known this was gonna happen sooner or later!” 

Reid sighed in a agreement as he met your eyes, “This is bad, you guys. I don’t know where else we should look.” 

You ran your hands through your hair, “We’re gonna have to just tell her that he’s gone!” you said as you turned around to walk towards the door. 

Spencer jumped up from his seat, “Y/N, no! We can’t!”

“Spence, she’s gonna start getting ready soon!”

“Cant you at least stall her a little?” He pleaded, walking over towards you. “We can go back to some of the places we went last night!”

You looked up at him, he was grabbing your forearm lightly. You could never say no to those eyes. 

“Alright,” you sighed, “...how much time do you need?”

“How much time until she absolutely has to start getting ready?” Derek interrupted. 

“One hour.”

“Okay, give us two,” he replied, gathering his things from the counter. 

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “Then why do you even ask?!”

You all started to walk towards the door. Emily decided to join them, being that they needed all the help they could get. Hotch and Rossi were now in on the plan too and they agreed they should all split up in groups. 

“Y/N! There you are!” JJ giggled as she excitedly walked towards you as you entered the apartment. With her cosmetic bag in hand, she sat down at the kitchen table, already spilling out the contents, “So I thought we’d start with my makeup and then do my hair!”

“Okay... uh...” you stammered, “before we do that... I-I need you to talk to me...”

“About what?”

“Um...” you were already cringing at the words about to come out of your mouth. 

“I’m never going to get married!” You cried, placing a hand over your face. 

JJ rolled her eyes and looked up at you, “Yeah, you will! The right guy is just around the corner... Okay, are we done with that?” she said quickly and continued to look through her makeup bag. 

“JJ, I’m serious! Maybe I should just forget about it! I’ll become a lesbian or something...” you rambled on, faking more tears and sitting down next to her, trying to get her attention again. 

However, it didn’t work. JJ didn’t even look up at you when she scoffed, “Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

You mentally face palmed. This was getting pathetic, and you couldn’t believe what you were about to say next. 

“Maybe it would make me feel better if I just slept with Derek.”

JJ immediately stopped what she was doing and put a hand on your shoulder with wide eyes and a concerned face. “Oh my God, Y/N, are you okay?”

You shook your head quickly and stuffed your face in her shoulder, letting out fake cries. 

-

“What are you doing, man?” Derek huffed as he stood besides Hotch and Penelope in front of Will’s desk at the station. 

“I cant believe you guys found me! I knew I should have hid somewhere more secretive!”

Penelope rolled her eyes, “Will! What the hell are you doing?

Will shakily ran a hand through his hair, “Panicking...” he pointed to laptop opened in front of him, “Also trying to prove on the internet that I’m related to JJ.”

The trio was unamused. 

Will got the hint quickly and asked, “How is she?”

“She’s fine. She doesn’t know you’re gone,” Hotch spoke up, getting closer to the desk, “and she doesn’t have to know, okay?”

Derek nodded in agreement, “Yeah, come on. We’re going back home-“

“I-I can’t! If I go back, we’re gonna become the LaMontagnes!” Will cut him off, shaking his head, “I can’t be the LaMontagnes!”

“What’s wrong with being the LaMontagnes?” Garcia questioned, clearly not following. 

“The LaMontagnes have horrible marriages! All they do is yell and fight, and it never ends up well!”

Hotch, Penelope and Derek looked back at Will, finally understanding. He didn’t talk about it much, but Will and his parents were not close, he was too scarred from what they had put him through growing up to ever reconstruct their relationship. 

“Man...” Derek began in an effort to calm him down, “You are nothing like either of your parents! You and JJ would never put each other through anything like that!”

Will thought about it for a second before saying, “I mean, look at Rossi! It’s just been divorce after divorce-“

“Will! Listen to me!” Penelope interrupted walking over to the side of the desk, “Right now, no one has a lower opinion of you than I do... but I totally believe you can do this!”

Will looked at his hands before saying, “I want to. I love her so much. But I’m afraid... this is... too huge.”

“You’re right, it is huge,” Hotch chimed in. He remembered when he was the one getting married and started to sympathize with the nerves of the man in front of him. “Just take it one step at a time. Forget getting married right now, can you just come home and take a shower?”

Morgan nodded in agreement, “Yeah, that’s not scary, right?”

Will slowly started to stand up in agreement and the trio in front of him couldn’t help but smile. 

-

“The nights are the hardest...” you cried, looking down at your hands. JJ rolled her eyes. “But then the day comes... and that’s every bit as hard as the night. Then the night comes again-“

“I get it, okay? The days and nights are both hard!” JJ snapped in frustration. “Look, Y/N, I’m sorry but I have to start getting ready. I am getting married today,” she emphasized. 

“I know... at dusk. That’s such a hard time for me.”

JJ stood up, not being able to take anymore of your pity party. “Okay. I’m gonna go put my makeup on. We have to be at the hotel in an hour.”

As she started to walk towards the bathroom you jumped up, “W-wait! Let’s go to lunch!”

“I can’t go to lunch!” She shrieked, running into the bathroom. 

You were starting to run out of ideas. Throwing yourself to the floor you yelled, “Oh  good God, I’ve fallen down!”

JJ stormed out of the bathroom, crossing her arms and looked at you sprawled out on the floor. “What the hell is going on?”

“Alright, JJ, listen...” you said standing up, feeling the tears ready to spill. “When I tell you what I’m about to tell you I need you to remember we’re all here for you and we all love you.”

JJ’s gaze softened, “Y/N/N, you’re really starting to freak me out...”

You looked down at your shaking hands as you whispered, “We can’t find Will...”

And just like that the door opened to reveal a smiling Emily Prentiss holding two big thumbs up. 

“...s vest. We cant find Will’s vest-“

“How can that be are you serious?!” JJ cried.

Emily caught on and shut the door walking towards you two, “Found the vest! Well I mean we have to keep an eye on it. You know, to make sure we don’t lose it again!”

JJ instantly relaxed and started laughing, “Oh, thank God! Don’t scare me like that, okay?” 

You both started nervously laughing as she started to walk towards the bathroom to finally do her makeup. 

“For a minute there I was like, ‘Oh my God, the worst has happened!’ Phew!”

You and Emily both looked at each other with a sigh of relief. 

-

Derek stood behind Will in the mirror, smoothing down his tux. “See, that wasn’t so scary was it? You put on a tuxedo!”

Will laughed nervously, looking at his reflection, “No... I guess not.”

Spencer smiled, “See, just a little bit at a time.”

“So what‘s the next little bit?”

Derek and Spencer looked nervously at each other, knowing they had to choose their next words very carefully. 

“Just uh,” Derek stammered, “Getting married-“

Will let out a girl-like shriek, putting his head in his hands. 

“W-woah, relax! You can do it! Just like you’ve done everything else!”

He lifted his head, nodding at Spencer’s words. “You’re right... I can do it. Just excuse me for a minute,” he sighed walking towards the door. 

The men shared a skeptical look before Will added, “I’m not gonna run away again! I just need some fresh air.”

The boys reluctantly let Will out of the door and he paced the halls, trying to let all the nerves out. Hearing familiar voices around the corner, Will walked into one of the empty rooms on his left, trying not to be seen. The last thing he needed was to run into JJ in her dress before they were married and ruin this day even more than he almost already did. He soon recognized the voices as Y/N and Emily. 

“I just cant believe JJ is pregnant! We gotta make sure we don’t say that too loud in here, you know they frown on that,” Emily said, referring to the church.  

Pregnant?! How could it be? They used protection every single time?

All Will could hear was your humorless chuckles and wordless responses to what Emily was saying. 

When your voices were gone, he popped his panicked head out of the door and started pacing the other way. 

-

“Hey...” Derek nervously laughed as he entered the bridal suite. He was met with the eyes of JJ’s family members and gave them all a quick wave. “Have any of you seen Will?”

Penelope was fixing her hair in the mirror and quickly turned around, “I thought he was with you!”

Suddenly everyone’s attention was on Derek. “Well... he was,” he awkwardly looked around. “We’re playing a game of hide and seek.”

Penelope’s shoulders relaxed, “Well you can’t ask us, Chocolate Thunder! That’s cheating!” She turned back around scoffing, to continue pulling at little pieces of hair to frame her face. The rest of the room was clearly uncomfortable.

Derek gritted his teeth, “You’re right. Thanks for keeping me honest, Babygirl...” he smiled at the rest of JJ’s family, trying to make sure they didn’t suspect anything. 

Walking towards Penelope to tell her Will was actually missing, he immediately came to a halt as JJ and Emily walked in the room. 

“JJ, you look beautiful,” he smiled, giving her a hug. 

She hugged him tightly and thanked him before asking, “How’s Will?”

Derek paused. 

“Great. He’s doing great. Don’t you worry about Will!” he nervously chuckled before turning his attention back to the other side of the room. “Penelope, Emily, will you help me with something outside?” 

The girls nodded and followed him out, Penelope closing the door behind them. 

“Will is gone again!”

“Oh my God!” Penelope cried, “Why would you play hide and seek with someone you know is a flight risk!”

Derek rolled his eyes before turning his head and seeing the man of the hour walking with a small gift bag. 

“Hey- There he is!” 

“What-“ 

Without thinking Derek sprinted towards the man, tackling him on the floor. “You’re not getting away this time-“

“What are you talking about- I’m not trying to leave! I-I know about JJ.” He groaned, pushing Morgan off of him and standing up. 

“You know?” Emily asked in disbelief. 

“Know what?” Garcia chimed in, matching Derek’s expression of confusion. 

“I heard you and Y/N talking...” Will answered. 

“Talking about what?” questioned Derek, looking around confusingly. 

“Oh my God... You know.” Emily whispered.

“Can someone tell us what the hell is going on right now-“ Penelope exclaimed. 

“JJ’s pregnant.”

The pair looked at each other in shock, and broke out in smiles as Will pulled out a tiny onesie. 

“Anything this tiny can’t be so scary.”

-

The ceremony had begun and all the guests had taken their seats. Rossi took his rightful spot in the center, being that he would be the one to officiate the wedding. Will was accompanied by his parents down the aisle and one after the other, the bridesmaids and the groomsman met in the middle and followed. It went Emily and Hotch, Derek and Penelope and then it was time for you to meet Spencer. It was the first time you had seen each other dressed up. The day had been so hectic you hadn’t had the chance to run into one another. He looked handsome in his suit, his hair so perfectly messy, and it took everything in you to not sprint over to him and run your hands through it. 

Spencer was speechless, He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you walking towards him to meet in the aisle. You looked gorgeous in your light blue bridesmaid dress that hugged you perfectly. Your hair was pulled back on the sides, a few pieces hanging and your makeup was elegantly placed, highlighting all the features he loved. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you met up and linked arms. The blush spread through your cheeks like a wildfire and you prayed the camera couldn’t pick it up. 

“Thank you,” you whispered back. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

As it came time to part from him, you slowly unlinked your arms and walked to your respective sides, but not before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He smiled at that. 

JJ had walked out and tears were brought to not only Will’s eyes, but everyone else’s. She looked gorgeous and you couldn’t help but feel ecstatic for her as you knew she had been waiting for this moment her whole life. 

Rossi had soon announced them husband and wife and everyone had cheered as they kissed one another. It was truly a moment of bliss. 

“I love you,” Will whispered while cupping JJ’s cheek, “and I know about the baby too.”

“What baby?” JJ laughed. 

“Our baby.”

“We have a baby?”

“Emily found your pregnancy test in the bathroom-“

JJ looked at him confused, “I didn’t take a pregnancy test...”

“Then who did?”

You, Emily and Penelope stared at the two in awe. 

“Just look at them, they’re so happy.” Emily gushed. 

“And they’re gonna have a baby!” Penelope smiled. 

You nodded nervously, the wave of nausea hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

“Wait- Penelope knows now too?!”

[rookie-ramsey]

Baby Blues, Finale (Bryce X MC)

Description: Bryce and MC can handle just about anything. Hopefully, pregnancy and parenting fall into the “just about anything” category.

Preview: The officiant nodded. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now-” 

Bryce didn’t let him finish. He looped his arms around Emily’s waist and kissed her with an intensity that sent her heart soaring. She flung her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss as his arms tightened around her, lifting her feet from the floor.

(Note: It’s here... the LAST chapter. It’s a long one, so buckle in!)

Previous Chapter

“Come on, say Dada!”

From her high chair, Ava stared at her parents. She pursed her lips together and squealed, digging her tiny hand into her bowl of mashed potatoes.

Emily shook her head. “No, don’t listen to him. Say Mama.”

“No. Dada.” Bryce leaned closer to their daughter, who gurgled in amusement at the pleading in his voice. “Dada…. Da… da…”

“Bryce, you sound like a baby now.” Emily rolled her eyes and ate a bite of her dinner.

“She needs to say Dada first or I owe Elijah and Jackie twenty bucks!”

“You made bets about her first word, too? Because I’m gonna owe Sienna and Kyra if she doesn’t say Mama first!”

Bryce laughed. “This might be a problem.”

“Let’s spice it up a bit. Whoever loses has to do diaper duty exclusively for two days”

“That’s gonna be a stinky weekend for you.” Bryce grinned. “You’re on.”

He returned his attention to Ava, who was finishing her potatoes, getting more of them on her clothes than in her mouth. The infant pursed her lips and blew a raspberry, seemingly taunting him.

“Hey, that’s not nice. Say Dada. Please? I’ll pay you money.”

Keiki rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because a ten month old will do anything for a few bucks.”

Pleased with the amount of attention on her, Ava squealed and threw her arms out, sending her plastic dishes flying across the kitchen. Bryce left his seat to pick up the mess, sending Ava into a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s so funny seeing Dada clean up stuff you throw, isn’t it?”

Ava kicked her feet and squirmed in the high chair, laughing as if watching her father pick up her dishes was the highest form of comedy she’d ever seen.

“Ava, since Dada’s busy cleaning up after you, why don’t you say Mama?” Emily urged.

Her daughter clapped her hands and babbled, clearly amused by her parents’ desperation.

“This kid cracks me up.” Keiki smirked and freed her niece from the restraints of her high chair. “Do you want Aunt Keiki to show you new ways to bug Bryce?”

The baby squealed, kicking her bare feet and squirming. “Keiki!”

Bryce’s jaw dropped. He gaped for several seconds as his sister and daughter stared at him with similar expressions of mischief and surprise. “Did she just…?”

Emily stifled a snicker. “I think she just did, babe. We both lost.”

“But how? I’ve been begging her for days and she refused. Keiki says her own name once and Ava just repeats it without any problem?” Bewildered, Bryce shook his head. Despite himself, he couldn’t resist an amused grin.

Emily watched as Ava crawled around the kitchen. “Just think. She’ll be walking by the wedding.”

“I know.” At the mention of the wedding, Bryce’s smile widened. “Three months. Can’t we just reschedule the wedding to tomorrow?”

“I don’t think the guests would appreciate that last minute change.”

“So?”

Emily laughed and leaned up, kissing his cheek. “Patience.”

XXXXXX

Despite Bryce’s impatience, the remaining weeks of wedding planning soared past them. Before they knew it, it was February morning and they found themselves at the wedding venue, with minutes ticking down until they would say their vows.

In the dressing room, Emily fidgeted in front of the mirror as Sienna helped her fasten the back of her dress. “I can’t believe it’s finally here…. Just a few minutes!”

Sienna finished tying the sash and stepped back. “Are you nervous?”

“Maybe a little.” Emily adjusted her veil and combed her fingers through her hair. Ava toddled around the room in her shoes and diaper, trying to escape Emily’s mother and the dress she was trying to dress her in.

Finally Allison caught Ava and managed to slip the lavender dress over her head. “Do you think your flower girl is ready?”

“She did okay at rehearsal once we showed her how to go down the aisle.” Emily fastened a little bow in Ava’s hair, to the infant’s distaste.

“Let me look at you.” Allison gripped Emily’s shoulders and looked her up and down, her face softening. “This reminds me of when you were little and you would wear your bed sheets to play wedding.”

Emily’s cheeks flushed as her friends giggled. “Mom!”

“I’m just teasing you. You look beautiful, sweetie.” Her mom hugged her for a long moment. Emily hugged her back and looked up when there was a knock on the door. Emily called out permission to walk in, and a moment later her dad stepped into the room.

“Ready, Em?”

“I think so.” Emily nodded and took a deep breath, taking her father’s arm and following her wedding party out of the room.

At the altar, Bryce’s heart raced with a nervousness he’d never felt before. The pianist started playing a soft, sweet tune, indicating the start of the ceremony.

A wide grin formed on his face when he saw Ava standing at the end of the aisle, her little hands clutching a basket of flower petals. Sienna gave the baby a gentle nudge. Ava toddled forward, throwing fistfuls of flower petals all around her as she approached the aisle.

She stumbled in her tiny dress shoes, spilling the flower petals. Unbothered, she uprighted herself and made her way down the aisle. When she reached the end, she toddled to Bryce and held her arms up.

“Dada!”

The audience laughed. Chuckling, Bryce leaned over and picked up his daughter, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the forehead. He settled her on his hip as the bridesmaids and groomsmen made their way down the aisle.

Bryce didn’t think it was possible for his heart to beat faster, but it nearly jumped from his chest when the music changed and Emily appeared at the archway. His breath hitched in his throat as he took her in, his smile growing a little with each step she took closer to the altar.

“Mama!” Ava squealed.

“Mama looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” he whispered, gently hugging her.

He passed Ava to Emily’s mom and wiped his suddenly sweaty palms against his pants. By the time Emily and her father reached the altar, Bryce was almost certain his face would split in two if he smiled any wider.

Emily slipped her hands into Bryce’s, her eyes glistening as she gazed up at him. It took everything in Bryce not to swoop in and kiss her right then, and he may very well have had the officiant not started.

The officiant began reading, bringing their audience to a silence. “Welcome, family and friends. We gather here today to celebrate the wedding of Emily Harmon and Bryce Lahela. You have come here to offer your love and support to this union so that they may start their married life together surrounded by the people most important to them.”

Bryce’s grip tightened on Emily’s hands as the officiant finished the introduction, then turned his attention to Bryce.

“Do you, Bryce Lahela, take this woman to be your wedded wife?”

The words rolled off his tongue immediately. “I do!”

Everyone tried not to laugh at the urgency in his tone, but several giggles escaped. Once quiet fell again, the officiant turned to Emily.

“And do you, Emily Harmon, take this man to be your wedded husband?”

“I do.” She laced her fingers through Bryce’s, never taking her eyes off of him.

“You may now recite your vows. May I have the rings?”

Rafael and Sienna passed the rings to Bryce and Emily. Bryce held the ring tightly and slipped it onto Emily’s finger, nestling it against her engagement ring. He spoke up, his voice strong as he recited the vows he’d spent weeks memorizing.

“I give you this ring as a promise to always love you as much as I have since we first met. I know love at first sight is a cliche, but it’s true. I promise to always love you, respect you, and be the best husband and father I can be. I also promise to always support you, be there for you, and still find silly, healthy ways to compete with you. Always.”

Emily laughed softly at the last part, her eyes misting as she began reciting her own vows. She slipped the ring onto Bryce’s finger and started reciting. “With this ring, I promise to always love and cherish you. I’ll never forget the love and support you’ve given me since the day we met. I’ll always be there, at the best and worst of times. I love you and have always known you’re who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

The officiant nodded. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now-”

Bryce didn’t let him finish. He looped his arms around Emily’s waist and kissed her with an intensity that sent her heart soaring. She flung her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss as his arms tightened around her, lifting her feet from the floor.

After several seconds, Elijah’s voice called out, “Keep it PG!”

“Yeah, save something for the honeymoon!” Jackie chimed in.

Grinning, Emily pulled back, her face inches from his. “To be continued?”

“Hell yeah.” Bryce squeezed her hand as they turned to face the audience. Hand in hand, they retreated down the aisle.

Their audience cheered at them, and several minutes later they sat with their wedding party as they enjoyed thick slices of cake and heaping piles of food. When the announcement for the first dance caught their attention, Emily wiped frosting from her lips and smiled.

“Ready?”

“To dance with you? Aren’t I always?” Bryce took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. As the opening notes of the song began playing, he rested his other hand on the small of her back. They began swaying gently, surrounded by an audience of their friends.

For all those times you stood by me

For all the truth that you made me see

For all the joy you brought to my life

For all the wrong that you made right

For every dream you made come true

For all the love I found in you

Emily leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “How does it feel being actually married?”

“Best feeling ever, tied with the day Ava was born.” Bryce returned her kiss and touched his forehead to hers for a long moment as they continued dancing slowly to “Because You Loved Me.”

I'll be forever thankful, baby

You're the one who held me up

Never let me fall

You're the one who saw me through through it all

You were my strength when I was weak

You were my voice when I couldn't speak

You were my eyes when I couldn't see

You saw the best there was in me

Lifted me up when I couldn't reach

You gave me faith 'cause you believed

I'm everything I am

Because you loved me

The song faded out, transitioning to the next one and inviting other people to join them on the dance floor. Sienna released Ava, who barreled across the floor and launched herself at her parents.

Bryce scooped her up and tickled her stomach. “Does someone want a daddy daughter dance?”

“Dada!”

“Well, you’re lucky Mama wants more cake, so you get Dada all to yourself for this dance.” Emily kissed their daughter’s head, then slipped away from the dance floor to finish her cake. She sat down and watched, her heart swelling as Bryce swayed back and forth with Ava.

Sienna sat next to her and grinned. “Well? How do you feel?”

“Amazing. I know things won’t change much since we’ve been living together for so long now, but… things do feel different, and I love it.”

Several songs later, guests began slowly filing out of the wedding chapel.

Once everyone had left aside from a few people who stayed to help clean, Emily and Bryce changed out of their wedding clothes, dressing in casual clothes that would be more comfortable for their flight to California.

“Thank you guys so much for babysitting. Keiki is staying with some friends for the weekend, and we really appreciate you keeping Ava.”

“We don’t mind at all!” Ines grinned at the infant, who watched from Emily’s arms as Bryce put some things in the trunk of Zaid’s car.

“She shouldn’t be too much trouble. If you put her to bed around nine, she’ll sleep until six with no problems. She’s going through a phase where she likes to put stuff in the toilet, though, so you may need to weigh the lid down with something.”

Zaid sighed. “How lovely.”

Emily’s phone buzzed, reminding her of the time. “We have to leave for our flight now. Thanks again!”

She and Bryce both hugged and kissed their daughter before Emily deposited her without warning into Zaid’s arms. They said goodbye one more time before they left, setting course for the airport.

In the backseat of the cab, Emily snuggled into Bryce’s side. “Ready for our honeymoon, husband?”

Bryce’s mouth curled into the widest of smiles. “I’m ready, wife.”

XXXXX

“Wake up!”

A figure darted through their room and pounced onto the bed, effectively waking them up. Yawning, Bryce reached out and wrapped his arms around Ava, snuggling her close to him. “Let’s sleep another hour.”

“No, Daddy! I gotta go to school!”

“Says who?”

“The law!” Ava squirmed, freeing herself from his arms and scrambling out of bed.

“Yeah, Daddy. The law says she has to go to school.” Emily yawned and kissed her husband. She rolled out of bed and followed their wide-awake daughter into the kitchen.

Ava climbed into her seat, kneeling so she could reach the table. “Can I have coffee?”

“No way. What do you want instead?”

Sighing, Ava pursed her lips in thought. “A banana and toast.”

“I think we can manage that.” Emily sliced a banana and stuck a piece of bread in the toaster. She poured a cup of milk and set Ava’s breakfast in front of her. The little girl dug in, chewing fast with impatience.

“Slow down, squirt. The school building isn’t even open yet.” Bryce tousled Ava’s hair as he shuffled sleepily into the kitchen. He started a pot of coffee and poured a bowl of cereal for himself.

“I know, but I can’t be late.” Ava shook her head and sipped her milk, leaving a mustache on her lips. “I gotta pick out my shoes. I can’t decide what ones to wear.”

“Hey, it’s kindergarten. Proper footwear is important.” Bryce sat down, watching as Ava practically devoured her breakfast. When she was done, she flounced out of the room to get dressed.

“Someone’s excited.” Emily poured a cup of coffee and sat next to her husband. She stifled a yawn and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Too excited. Why is this happening?”

“Because she’s five and has to start school sooner or later.” Emily kissed his cheek, glancing up when Ava started yelling from the bathroom.

“Mommy! I need you! Quick! Hair!”

“Sounds like a hair emergency. I’ll be back.” She stood up and followed the sound of Ava’s pleas. She found her in the bathroom, trying to untangle her messy bed hair. Taking the brush from her, Emily worked through the tangles until Ava’s hair fell into place.

“Thank you!” Ava exclaimed through a mouthful of toothpaste. She finished getting ready and paced the floor impatiently while her parents got ready. When they emerged from their room, Ava grabbed her backpack and lunchbox.

“Ava, we’re not going to be late,” Emily assured her. She glanced down, arching a brow at the sight of a purple Croc on Ava’s left foot and a blue Converse on the right. “Are you wearing two different shoes?”

“I couldn’t decide!”

“Well… I guess that’s efficient.” Emily followed Bryce and Ava to the car. Ava buckled herself into her booster seat. She chattered excitedly as Bryce drove to the elementary school they’d enrolled her in. He had no sooner put the car in park when Ava unbuckled and reached for the door handle.

“Daddy, unlock it!”

Groaning, Bryce unlocked it. He and Emily each took one of Ava’s hands as they crossed the parking lot. When they reached the front door, he knelt down. “You sure you wanna start kindergarten today? We can just say we’ll homeschool you and let you go to work with Daddy every day.”

Ava shook her head. “I can go to work after school, Daddy.”

“It was worth a try.”

He held his arms out. Ava threw herself into them and hugged him tight. She released him and hugged Emily, then stared up her parents for a second. “Can I go in now?”

“Yeah, baby. Go in. We’ll see you this evening,” Emily assured her.

Bryce felt a lump form in his throat as he watched as Ava skipped into the building and out of sight. He swallowed hard and let out a sigh.“Is that really the same kid I potty trained and rocked to sleep?”

“Yes, Bryce.” Emily took his hand and steered him toward the parking lot. “It’s kindergarten. I’m worried you’ll have a heart attack the day she goes off to college.”

“Don’t even mention that.” Bryce shook his head. “She’s growing up way too fast and I want it to stop.”

Emily smiled in amusement as they got in the car. The school wasn’t far from Edenbrook, so they were at work in a matter of minutes. She and Bryce kissed and parted ways in the atrium. As she made her way upstairs to her office, she walked with a little pep in her step.

Dr. Emily Harmon-Lahela, Internal Medicine.

She’d never get tired of seeing that plaque on her door. Emily unlocked her office and shut the door behind her. Now that she was alone, she couldn’t stop grinning as she reached into her desk. She found the hidden box and opened it, then stepped into the bathroom.

Memories from almost six years ago flooded back to her as she relieved herself of the two glasses of orange juice she had chugged. She urinated on the stick and cleaned up, then paced impatiently as she waited for the results to show up.

When the result showed up, Emily stopped in her tracks and smiled.

Pregnant.

Note: I was SO soft writing this. This story ended up being so much longer than I expected, but I loved every bit of it! It’s a little sad to say goodbye to, but...

wait for it..

I AM WRITING A SEQUEL! The sequel will definitely be shorter, and it won’t be posted until probably December or January because I refuse to write a new series until I finish another current one, but it WILL happen! Keep an eye out!

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[2manyfandoms2count]

You can count on me (I will be there for you)

Hi, I’m Elle, and I have absolutely no idea how you can hack into a computer beyond the usual *typing sounds* “I’m in” you see in movies. I have therefore decided to leave Max and Markov do their thing backstage while I focus on a little mother-son moment (which there’ll be more of later, of course). Enjoy! xx

Also, small warning: there’s swearing on the last line. I think it’s justified.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | AO3

---

Chapter 7

Ladybug shivers as they step out of the Voyage portal. Chat Noir pinpointed a blind spot area in a corner of the Mansion’s lobby from which they could hack into the house’s elaborate security system, and Max managed to get all three of them in exactly the right place. Apparently Gabriel Agreste didn't think much could happen beside the grand staircase; remembering the time she'd had to transform there, the spotted lady thinks it's just as well.

While her travel companions huddle around Max’s computer to deactivate the cameras, she takes a look around the space, making sure to stay within the boundaries Chat Noir indicated. How Adrien managed to grow up into the warm and vibrant person he is, while living in this austere place will always be beyond her. Whoever thought that displaying a giant mourning painting in an already colourless room was a good idea clearly doesn’t live here. She supposes it could be alright, were the place a museum, but as a house? It doesn’t help the large volumes feel homey in the least.

“Alright, cameras are looped, we can move around now.” Pegasus closes his computer and stands a little taller. “So, what exactly are we looking for, and how should we go about it?”

“Physically, purple butterfly-themed stationary, and anything that could compromise Ladybug or suggest a tie with Hawkmoth,” Chat Noir lists. “Even though I think we have a better chance of finding the latter two on a protected file. It’s not like my- Mr Agreste to leave things lying around in the open.”

Ladybug nods along. “Where do you think we’re most likely to find those?”

“My best guess would be Gabriel’s atelier, and Nathalie’s room. She’s been keeping quite a lot of paperwork there, since her illness a couple of years ago.” Her partner shrugs. “And I think anything numerical would definitely be on Gabriel’s computer.”

“If that's okay, I think I'll try to access the data from Adrien’s computer, if he still has it in his room? I seem to recall seeing some links last time we connected to it, and there’ll probably be less security to bypass.” Max suggests.

“And less risk of leaving fingerprints, or anything that could make Gabriel suspect anything was touched during his absence.” Chat Noir muses. “Good call, Max. How about you go to Adrien’s room with Markov, LB, you go to Nathalie’s room, and I check the study?”

“Sounds good to me.” Ladybug smiles.

“Perfect.” Pegasus nods. “Should I detransform?”

“Maybe that would be wise. Let’s give Kaalki some time to recharge so we’re good to go later on.” She nods, and hands him a box of macarons she managed to ‘steal’ before they left. It’s not the Kwami’s favourite food, but it will have to do.

Chat Noir watches the both of them run up the stairs and separate at the top, smiling as Ladybug’s newest costume addition flutters with her movements. Tikki must have really liked the veil for it to stick through the transformation. It looks good, and it’s a good reminder that they don’t have all the time in the world.

He takes a deep breath and opens the double doors that lead to his father’s study.

The room hasn’t changed over the years. Some designers, Marinette included, like to sprawl their ideas out in giant mood boards, pictures, sketches and fabric swatches gradually invading the walls as their collection takes shape. Gabriel Agreste isn’t one of these people. The decoration is as stark as ever, despite an upcoming fashion show, pictures of Adrien pulled up from different ads, and marble statues seemingly being the only personal touches. The only real spark of colour is his mother’s golden portrait, at the far end of the room. He often wondered why it hung there, and not on the mantelpiece, or anywhere else in the room where his father could see it while working. He can’t see her not being a source of inspiration.

He walks up to the painting and swivels it to reveal the family safe. It seems like a good place to start.

“Plagg, claws in.” He whispers.

The dark figure swirls out of his ring and spins around a little, taking in his surroundings.

“Gotta say, kiddo, I’m glad that we’re moving out soon. This place always gave me the creeps.” Plagg floats up to the pictures lining the walls. Adrien can’t tell if there’s a hint of nostalgia in his eyes as he takes in the shots of him that were taken around the time they met.

“I thought the Spirit of Destruction knew no fear?” His lips curl into an amused smile.

“I didn’t say I was afraid, just that I didn’t like this place.” Plagg refrains himself very hard from knocking over, or straight up Cataclysming, Adrien can't tell, a frame showing a very proud Gabriel, probably at the end of one of his first fashion shows. “Anyway, what are you doing, detransforming in the middle of you top secret mission? What if your lover walks in?” He asks mischievously.

“She’s my wife now, actually.” Adrien grins, still giddy at the thought.

“I know, just wanted to give you the satisfaction of saying it out loud.” He grins back. “Consider it your wedding present from me; you get to be sappy for the day. Not too much, though, or I’ll end up retching on your father’s stuff.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t come to that. I just need you to open the safe, like you did that one time? Then I’ll retransform, on the off-chance Marinette does decide to come and check on things.”

“No problem.” Plagg zoomed through the heavy metal door, and was back out again a couple of minutes later. “Whew- I don't know if it’s because I’m getting old, but it felt a lot easier the first time around. Got a little Camembert for my troubles?” He pouted.

“That’s weird.” Adrien frowns as he pulls out the cheese box from his suit pocket and tosses him a piece.

“Eh, I wouldn’t sweat it. It was, what? Ten years ago? More? I lose count.” The Kwami catches the cheese and gobbles it down. “Anyway, technologies have evolved since then, and you know your progenitor likes to keep up.”

“True.” Adrien replies pensively as they take a look at the contents of the safe.

The contents looks pretty much identical to the last time they’d broken into it. The same books are stored on the lower shelves, with a couple wads of cash. At eye level, the book about Tibet still sits next to his mother’s picture. The Miraculous Grimoire that had gotten him into so much trouble is gone, he notices, but he doesn't worry too much about it. It could just mean that his father is using it for his next collection.

There’s something else missing, though. He seems to recall that there was a flash of colour around his mother, but maybe he’s remembering it wrong.

He shakes his head to clear the feeling that it's something important as he closes the safe, and calls his transformation phrase.

Swivelling the panel back to its original place, he sighs as he takes in Emilie’s portrait once more.

“Oh, Maman, I wish you were still here.” He says softly. It breaks his heart, but the more time passes, the less he can remember her face. Sure, the paintings and pictures remind him of what she looked like, but picturing her spontaneously in his memories is becoming a struggle.

It’s actually this painting he generally sees when he thinks about her. It’s vibrant, warm, solar, just like she was. He wishes she could have met Marinette. She would have adored her, he knows. She would’ve treated her like the daughter she never had.

“If only you could’ve seen us today. I’m sure you would’ve been a much easier guest than Father’s turning out to be.” He lets out a nervous chuckle, and gently touches the painting’s surface. It’s something his father always forbade him from doing, but he isn’t there, it’s his wedding day, and one of the most important people in his life isn't there to celebrate with him.

As he slides his fingers over the elaborate dress, wondering if she ever wore one like this, and if so, if his father kept it, he notices that there are some spots which are smooth, almost cool, in the midst of the paint asperities. He frowns, and touches them again; they’re definitely metal, glinting a little in the afternoon light.

Tentatively, he pushes down on one of them. The button sinks below the surface, but nothing happens.

He tries pressing on two groups, located approximately at eye level. This time, there’s a slight whirring sound, and he feels the ground move under his feet.

He’s too stunned to jump out when he starts to descend below ground level, his hands automatically slamming to the sides of the tube, eyes widening in panic.

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug and Max burst through the doors just before he is completely engulfed by darkness. She’s pale as she watches him disappear, clutching purple envelopes and something else in her hands. Max doesn’t look too good either.

“Shit” is the last thing he hears as he travels to whatever dark corner of the Mansion the tube is taking him to. He's not sure who said it, but something tells him they all did.

[path-of-my-childhood]

Lana Wilson Says Her Female Crew Wasn't Taken Seriously While Filming Taylor Swift

By: Emily Tannenbaum for Glamour Date: February 10th 2020

The film, intentionally or not, explores Swift's shaky venture into feminism and how she understands her platform as one of the most famous women on the planet. So it should come as no surprise that director Lana Wilson and her all-female crew can relate to Swift's plight and have similarly learned to manipulate misogyny in their favor.

“When people see an all-female film crew, they assume they're not professionals. That's something I've encountered over and over again in my career and a lot of other female directors would probably say the same thing. People just come up to you and they're like, ‘Is this a school project?’” Even when they’re documenting Taylor Swift. “I do think it’s helpful for keeping a low profile,” Wilson adds.

Glamour spoke with Wilson one week after Miss Americana dropped on Netflix about the massive response to the film, working with the pop star, and, of course, that rumored ring.

Obviously you were an established filmmaker before this, but Taylor Swift is one of the number one pop stars in the world. How is life right now? It's been amazing. It's been overwhelming, and I have been totally stunned by the response. I usually make films where they're about subjects where I kind of have to coax or persuade people to watch them. And this is a film, I feel like everyone on earth watched it within the first 48 hours of it coming out.

How has the reaction to the documentary affected you? It was incredible, I knew there was going to be a big audience, but I hadn't been expecting anything like this. It's been such a positive reaction. People are connecting to it in a really deep way, which was, of course, my dream when making the movie. But I worked on it in secret, so for it to have this kind of reaction is the most gratifying thing in the world.

How did you keep your work a secret? Well, you lose a lot of friends, because everyone gets annoyed that you won't tell them what you're working on. [Laughs]

Considering the sensitive topics the film covered and her standing in the industry, how did you build your connection with Swift? I think one of the first things we connected about was about being artists in male-dominated industries. We had a lot of shared experiences even though we inhabit very different worlds. There were some things in common that I could totally understand about her experience because of my own experience as a female director. I think there's a layer of non-judgment, especially when it comes to stuff like talking about body image, talking about the sexual assault trial. I do think you have an extra layer of comfort there for sure.

Tell me more about how you chose to present her speaking out about her eating disorder? When she's in the car talking about body image, we put in these flat aspect images of her on the red carpet during the 1989 tour while she's talking because I think that those images of her when she was struggling with this makes it so much more visceral and more emotional.

I remember seeing those images, some of them in magazines or on the internet and I never thought that wasn't normal. You know how skinny she was. I didn't think twice about it. And I think when you see the images juxtaposed with her in the car now reflecting on it, you realize, wow, we all have a veil over our eyes. We're so used to seeing one type of body on every magazine cover in the supermarket and thinking that that's normal, and often beating ourselves up and hating ourselves if we don't look like that.

I think to see Taylor, someone who's an icon of beauty voicing these thoughts that so many people have had is incredibly, incredibly powerful because it's not something you would expect to hear, then it makes you kind of think back on everything you've seen in your own experience in a different way. I don't know if you read the incredible post that... is her name Nikki Glaser?

Yes. What did you think about that apology to Taylor? I thought that was so moving and brilliant, and I loved Taylor's response to her, too. I thought what Nikki Glaser was saying made so much sense. She said, "This is Psych 101; I was projecting because I was struggling with an eating disorder at the time." I thought that was a really brave and incredible thing to say. That made me think about if there's ever been a time where I've made fun of someone, I was probably projecting my own insecurities on them as well, you know? We did notice when we were looking at that archival material that a lot of that stuff was coming from other women.

God, I almost tear up like thinking about some of the notes I've gotten from teenagers about how they look in the mirror and they hate their body and they hate the way they look. But now that they've seen that Taylor has struggled with some of these same things too, and she's gotten through it and she's stronger and happier as a result, and that inspires them to keep going. It's just so moving.

What was the most unexpected thing about filming Taylor? The contrast between the extraordinary elements of her life and the ordinary elements. [There are] the very big and massive, spectacular, glittery times, but then these very mundane, normal moments. I really love the scene where she's eating a burrito. I know people have really responded to this scene, and I think it's because it's just her putting a chip in a burrito for crunch. There's something so great about when you get to a point when you're filming someone and they can relax enough to eat lunch and shoot the shit with their friends in front of you.

When you can film the boring stuff and you have that comfort level with someone, then you know you have access. You know, at that point. It's weird, but that was like a breakthrough moment for me because it feels like the camera isn't there.

When did that moment come? How long had you been filming her before you felt like you broke through to that point? At least a few months. But I will say that the first interview we did was the first interview she'd done in three years, and we did that audio-only. I think that was the moment when we really got to know each other and when I really started to see what the story of the film was, that first audio-only interview. It was just me and her, in a room for hours with a recorder.

Did any of that audio make it into the film? Oh yeah. When she talks about the sexual assault trial, that's from the audio interview.

Did Swift see the film at different points in the editing process, or did she not see it until it was finished? I wanted her to see it before it was finished because there's stuff in here - like her talking about an eating disorder - that I think is really important for her to be comfortable with that kind of stuff going out into the world. It was great because when we showed her the first cut, she loved it immediately. She was never like, ‘No, I don't want to go there.’ There was no off-limits area other than anything that would compromise her security.

Taylor's feedback was great. It wasn't like, ‘Oh no, we can't do this.’ It was feedback from another storyteller. She's such an extraordinary storyteller. So it made sense to me.

Before I let you go, I have to ask: When InStyle asked you about a potential engagement ring you said, "I'll have to watch the scene again." Did you watch the scene again? I was confused by what that person was talking about. They said it's the scene in the car where she was talking about her eating disorder, that there were flash frames of a ring. And I was like, I don't remember that. There was definitely nothing like that there. I know that people on the internet are freaking out about this later scene where she's wearing a ring. I don't know anything about... I think she just wears a lot of rings. I think people are overreacting to it a little bit. As far as I could see she's constantly just wearing lots of rings! [Laughs]

[loversandantiheroes]

I was listening to my rainy day playlist and when this came out, I kinda pictured your Harvey playing this on piano for the farmer Flax. Not singing, cause it has the L word in the lyrics and he can't say it yet. But even if he can't say it, I think its lyrics suits him and his feelings quite well:) (tumblr won't let me put a link in here, but it's "The way you look tonight", Tony Bennett version)

This is very sweet and also calls for a minific.

——————————————-

“You’re sure this is alright?”

Emily flaps a hand at him.  “Of course it’s alright.  Besides, as far as I know the only other person in town who has a piano is Elliot, and sweet as he may be when you can actually get his attention, I really doubt he’d warm to this idea of someone sat in his living room tickling his ivories.”

She offers a smile as she swipes a rag over the top of the old upright in the corner of the bar, kicking up a little dust.

“Besides,” she adds, fanning the air in front of her, “Gus clearly isn’t using it.”

Harvey chews his lip, lifting the lid.  “Any idea when it was last tuned?”

“Hm.  Not that long.  Four months?  Five, maybe?  Though I expect that’s just about the last time anybody’s laid hands on this poor girl.”

Tentatively, Harvey finds middle C, hoping for a clear note and not an off-tune warble.  Or worse, a thunk.  But the note rings out, pitch-perfect as far as his ears can tell, and he smiles a little.

“I’m surprised you have time for this,” Emily says, leaning against the piano as he eases himself onto the bench.  There’s a knowing grin on her face.  “I thought your lunch hour was booked from here to eternity.”

Harvey only raises an eyebrow and tries to pretend his face doesn’t immediately flush hot.  “I…it’s a busy week.  I’ve got some free time.”

He doesn’t mean it to come out quite as dejected as it does.  But there it is.  He can’t even bear to look at whatever expression that has brought to Emily’s face.

“You miss her already,” she says, a bit too gleeful for his liking.

He mumbles something, very possibly in agreement, and begins digging in his satchel for his sheet music.  “Sort of why I’m here.  Not just the free time, I mean, of course that’s why…I….  I used to play,” he says, stumbling lamely into the point as he so often does.  He takes a deep breath, holds it until his head starts to swim a little, then lets it out in a rush.  “I want to see if I still can.  Or can pick it back up.”

“For her?”

“For me,” he says, a small, considering crease in his brow.  “But for her, too.”

Another thing he can’t quite find the angle to unpack.  How much she makes him want to chase after the things he once loved.  To throw himself at them, half-reckless, to try and reclaim them.  For the chance to prove to himself that he could do it.  Even the things that terrify him.  Especially the things that terrify him.

“Well, would you want a hand with that?” Emily offers, startling him out of his thoughts.  She is, he realizes a bit belatedly, pointing at the music book in his hands.  “I’ve got plenty of experience from high school.  Can’t sing for the life of me, so most days in music class I just turned sheet music for the teacher.”

“Oh, I…y-you don’t have to,” he says, awkwardly clutching the book.  “I don’t want to get you in any more trouble with Gus than I already am.”

Emily only laughs.  “Please, I couldn’t get in trouble with Gus if I tried.  He’s so much of a softie he can’t even bring himself to make people settle their bar tabs half the time.  Besides that, he’s got his hands full right now.  Willy’s got his crab magic going again and dropped off a huge basket full of the little snippers.  We’d both prefer it if I wasn’t there for it.”

Rather reluctantly, Harvey gives up his death grip on the music book.

At the sight of the cover, Emily’s face lights up like a Winter Star tree.

“The Way You Look Tonight.  Bless your heart,” she says, and for once the phrase doesn’t ring of a thinly veiled insult.  “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”

Harvey blanches, fumbling the book away from her and setting it against the stand.

“Oh.”  The levity’s gone now.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that word was so…” she pauses, and he can feel her eyes tracking him and Yoba he wishes she would stop looking at him.  

“Sharp,” she finishes.

“It’s fine,” he says, too curtly.

“Your aura’s gone all bubblegum.”

“I- what?”  He blinks up at her, in the moment suddenly too confused to remember to be upset.

“Your aura,” Emily says, wiggling her fingers a few inches over his head.  “Pure pink.  I struck a nerve.  I didn’t mean to.”

“My aura.  Right.”  And suddenly he remember it is Emily he’s talking to, or, closer to the point, being a bit of an asshole to, and his puffed up anxiety bubble deflates just a bit.  “Sorry.  I, uh, I suppose I’m usually chartreuse,” he says with an attempt at a smile.

“Kind of brown, actually,” she says musingly.  “Brown and yellow, like old gold.  But you’ve got this mix of red and pink and orange going on these days,” she adds this with a knowing smile, as if it’s some secret that only the two of them are in on, and he can only smile back, completely baffled.

“Well that’s…good?  I hope?”

“It would strongly suggest you are that thing I said that I won’t repeat again.”

“Thank you,” he says.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“Apology accepted.”  She leans in, opening the booklet and patting him on the shoulder.  “It also means the sex must be amazing, so congratulations.”

Harvey swears, covering his face and nearly sliding off the piano bench in embarrassment.

“You’re almost as bad as she is,” he mutters through his hands as she laughs.

“And you’re not even going to ask?”

He uncovers his face, which he knows has to be blisteringly red.  “Ask what?”

“What color her aura is?”

Emily raises her eyebrows, the offer dangling.

“Alright, alright.  I’ll bite, why not?  What color is her aura?”

She smiles, big and broad.  “The girl is a bonfire.  Red-orange.  Bright as anything.”

“I see,” he says.  He doesn’t.  “And red, that’s…?”

Emily’s smile softens.  “That thing I said that I won’t repeat again.”

“Oh.”

Harvey falls quiet.  He doesn’t quite believe in auras.  Not in a fashion that has any real weight.  And it isn’t as though he doesn’t know how she feels.  That he hasn’t seen the look in her eyes when she’s nearly said the words he has to dance around, or said something in surrogate.  But that someone else could look at her and see it, see that in her face, and know it was for him.

Auras or no auras, that’s something.

Harvey rubs the tip of one ear, smiling unconsciously.  “We should get started.”

There’s a moment of mortal terror as he lays his hands on the keys.  How long has it even been since he’s done this?  Ten years?  Longer, surely.  The lessons stopped when he was seventeen, but he vaguely remembers noodling around on borrowed keyboards in college once or twice after a few too many drinks.

He takes a breath.  Fumbles his position.  Plays the first chord.

The world, he is relieved to find, does not implode.

It’s clumsy.  He has to start over twice after his hands shake so hard he can’t quite keep his fingers on the keys properly.  But it’s nerves more than rust, he finds, and by the time his phone starts blaring the end of his lunch hour, he’s made it fully to the end of the song twice.

“Thank you,” he tells Emily as he packs up.  “For the help and for your patience.  I can’t imagine that was too kind on your ears.”

“Harvey, I’ve heard Gus singing along to Carmen, I have been tempered in fire,” she says with a laugh.  “And you’ve got some pretty solid skill, you’ll knock the rust out in no time.”

He smiles, dipping his head.  “Thank you.”

“Coming back tomorrow?”

Harvey nods, sucking in a breath.  “I think I can probably squeeze in a rush through before…um…” he gestures vaguely in the direction Pierre’s lies.

“Aerobics?”

He makes a choked sound in agreement.

“Does she know you’re-”

“No!” he says, mortified.  “I mean, Yoba, I hope she doesn’t.  I don’t have much pride, but I’d rather not sacrifice the last shred of it by telling her the only reason I can… keep up with her is because I spend Tuesdays Sweatin’ To The Oldies.”

“You really think it’d make a difference to her?” Emily asks, eyebrows raised.

Harvey frowns, thinking of her face.  The way she laughs when he’s done something ridiculous that she somehow finds endearing.  His shoulders drop an inch.

“Maybe not.”

From his back pocket, his phone blares off another warning.

“Right, sorry, I have to go.  Thank you, again, for, for you help and I uh-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Harvey,” Emily finishes helpfully.

“Yes.  Right.  That,” he stammers, fumbling his book back into the bag.  “See you tomorrow.”

[theheadlessgroom]

"Honestly Randall, how could you ever suspect me of being behind your reassignment?" Constance huffed as she raised a hand in an exaggerated yawn, throwing her head back and raising her hatchet high in the air as she did. "I mean, really, do you think I would part with my hard-earned wealth over something so shallow?" The Black Widow Bride rolled her eyes. "I actually think your new position suits you quite well, huddling by the corridor near the entryway like the natural-born servant you are. I do feel bad for the chair though, eyesore as it was. But here, perhaps you'll run into Emily if she returns?" She waved dismissively, yet could not hide the sardonic smirk from behind her veil. "Or perhaps you'll find her somewhere off down that never-ending hallway? Maybe you should go and check? Hurry though, she'd certainly have gotten a head start by now, and I hear it's a VERY long hallway." Constance cackled coldly, before crossing her arms with a sigh, Cheshire Cat grin still on the cruel bride's face. "I mean, honestly Randall, wouldn't you agree this works out for the both of us? If you HAD returned to my Attic, I would've had to find another place for my poor sweet dear Ambrose." The woman's hands gripped a locket around her neck, which she popped open, gazing wistfully at a photograph of his severed head, "And he would be so dejected. Don't you think he's suffered enough already?" The murderess kissed his locket gently, before turning her mirthful gaze back towards the Hatbox Ghost, "And besides, look on the bright side! At least we don't have to see each other as much anymore."

"First of all, Constance, it's still my attic, not yours," Randall replied tersely, brow furrowing as he glared coldly at the black widow, trying not to let her taunts get under his skin (that was exactly what she wanted, after all). "I've lived there longer than you, and I still sleep there, so don't get all high and mighty with me.

Second of all, you take my wife's name out of your mouth-just you remember, the day she comes back is the day you're out, and I look forward to that day. The Mansion will smell better when you're gone.

And lastly," he finished, grimacing at the smooch she laid upon the locket, saying, "That poor man has already been put out of his misery when you lopped off his head. You did him a favor-meant he didn't have to wake up next to an awful hag ever again. I still don't know what he or any of those poor schmucks who put a ring on your finger saw in a shrew like you, but at least they don't have to go to bed next to the Crypt Keeper anymore.

Oh, sorry," he grinned. "That was cruel of me. The Crypt Keeper is much better looking than you!"

[theriveroflight]

headed straight for the castle, ch. 4

Read on AO3 

Warnings: the implications of being an assassin

Marinette waits until nightfall to sneak out again, sneaking out from her balcony and dropping into the alleyway below with ease. It’s been something she was doing since she was thirteen, two years of practiced expertise between her and the ground. The fall is easy. She has the pouch with her, the device within ready to break. She’ll communicate with this stranger again that hired her for information.

Well, she has that information. At whatever cost to her integrity.

She sneaks out to the wall, climbing the fence and leaping over to the edge of the wall, listening for where a guard perhaps has fallen asleep.

Marinette drops off the wall where the guard has fallen asleep. She has her papers back with her in her bag with the pouch, and that’s all. Other than that, a single dagger, and that’s easily hidden.

She sneaks to a more hidden area in the surroundings, and takes out the device.

She shatters it on the ground. Magic releases from the broken shards, and the stranger appears in front of her. The stranger has a device similar to hers somewhere that will inform them when she breaks it for response.

“So. Who is Chat Noir?” the stranger asks.

“Chat Noir,” she says, “is Adrien Agreste.”

“Prince Adrien, eh? I thought he died in that fire.” The stranger seems to have a lot of malice towards Adrien, from the anger in their voice. “I may just have to personally interfere, miss Multimouse. Have you found out his identity through covert means?”

“The entire capital probably knows by now. He revealed in front of a whole crowd, and news carries. He’s being detained in the palace for at least the night.” She keeps her voice purposefully level and detached - no need to reveal too much emotion at this point.

“Okay, so this will be much harder. I said that I would tell you to kill or not at this point, and now that I know? I need Adrien to die. Preferably soon.”

“Alright.” She feels a certain determination inside her, but something else that she can’t place at this point, too. “But I need extra, because infiltrating the palace takes more than I was prepared for. And I’ll need to do that to kill him, stranger.”

“I cannot provide you with any more funds besides the follow-up payment we agreed to later, but I can provide you with information.”

“And what information is worth this price?”

The stranger - the magical conjugate of them - takes off their veil, and reveals someone who looks just like the queen.

Emilie Agreste.

“Thank you,” she says, not letting any shock show at this point. Emilie will not shake her. “Adrien will soon be dead. Nobody will ever know about this deal.”

“You should best hope, miss Multimouse. If you fail, the consequences are dire. And now that you know who I am, I am perhaps in even more danger.”

Emilie disappears, and the magic is gone.

Marinette buries the shards of the object, and climbs into the tree for the night.

She’ll think about it all tomorrow.

***

The thing that wakes her is the feeling of falling.

This is what she gets for sleeping in a tree and forgetting to tie herself in.

She lands flat on her back, weight spread to reduce the impact, head lifted to prevent anything bad. The jolt of landing flows through her, but knowing how to fall is something she could probably remember in her sleep.

At least she didn’t have to this time.

She gets up off the ground.

How am I going to get back into the city? Especially at this point. I can ask Kim, but I don’t know if he’ll be stationed here.

She has her papers. She presents them to the guard, nothing guarded, nothing kept secret.

They let her in, seeing that she’s already been allowed to pass through once.

***

As she walks through the city, the events of yesterday come back to her in waves.

Chat’s expression sends a plea to her, his gaze lingering for longer than it should.

The hands move together in their shackles, and the ring drops to the ground.

Adrien Agreste stands in shackles instead of Chat Noir.

Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste.

Marinette flees away after the guards shoo the crowd off, going back home to mull it over. They’ve been lying to each other since they met - and they’ve known it, too. But Marinette never knew how game-changing the truth would be, how much the lies concealed. Marinette has been more honest, it turns out, than Chat.

She draws up a mental “information known” list.

Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste. Adrien is currently in the dungeon. The person who hired me is Princess Emilie Agreste, sister of the queen and Adrien’s mother. Adrien’s mother wants him dead.

And the things she doesn’t know.

Why did Adrien become Chat Noir?

The answer is kind of obvious, once she thinks about it. To conceal that there were no survivors of the Agreste Mansion Fire, to conceal that so the arsonist wouldn’t come after Adrien. The goal of the fire could’ve been straight destruction or humiliation, but now that she’s thinking about it, it’s much more likely that whoever it was wanted Adrien and Gabriel both dead.

Why does Emilie want Adrien dead?

It all goes back to that fire. It all goes back to Emilie, Gabriel, and Adrien.

A theory brews in Marinette’s head. Emilie started the fire to get rid of Gabriel and Adrien, and probably suspected that Adrien was Chat. If it wasn’t Adrien, she wouldn’t want him dead.

Does she want to kill Chat?

The answer is obvious: no. But she can’t disobey the person that hired her. Part of her integrity as an assassin is knowing when to pull out of a job, and how to keep promises. She has promised to follow orders once the identity of Chat Noir was discovered. Their friendship must come to a tragic end and a betrayal, but she knew that there would always be a chance that she would have to kill him. (And she got close anyways. And she chose his friendship.)

Marinette has to betray Chat. There’s simply no other way to do it.

***

There’s one more question Marinette hasn’t asked herself, and that’s because the answer terrifies her.

It’s a question that will make it harder to betray Chat, in the end, and she needs to betray Chat. She’s getting paid to betray Chat, and her honesty and integrity is at stake.

No matter how much she hates the idea, she won’t touch the reason why. She never should’ve gotten so close to Chat in the first place.

No. Not Chat.

Not the person she’s gotten to know over the past week. That’s not who he really is. Chat Noir is truly Adrien Agreste, and she should start thinking of him as such.

Adrien is who she needs to rescue before turning on him. And she will turn on him afterwards, after doing so much.

But first: rescue. She’ll have to talk to Kim.

***

She folds up a little bird. The paper’s on her nightstand, just the right size. As she folds, she whispers the spell to contain the message. “Ruetnahc uaesio, reyovne,” she says to complete the phrases. The entire spell is a lot longer: Songbird, sing your song. Songbird, carry my words. Songbird, send. And then the message. “Kim, meet me at the library when you get off your shift. I’ll be there for most of the day. See you soon.” And then the person to deliver to. “Reubirtsid a Le Chien Kim.”

She blows a breath of life into the paper bird - technically, it doesn’t need it, because it’ll start flying anyways, but she likes taking the initiative and giving it some direction. It flutters out her window, and hopefully, to Kim.

Message birds are a common method of mail, for short messages. Longer messages are typically done through the actual post. She’s been practicing folding message birds for a long time - it’s a moderately complex spell with a lot of components, but very useful, so it’s one of the first taught. Besides, the translation is easy to memorize. Translating it to the language of spells is a little harder, but she memorized it after a while.

It’s only after she can’t see the bird that she realizes it’s the paper from the bird that Chat sent her when they first arrived in the city.

***

The library is one of the most important parts of the capital. There are always students there, learning about magic, and there are people there too - the library always has someone in it besides the librarians.

Kim is already there when she arrives, proving that maybe he was already off his shift at the time - or maybe he was at the palace, it normally doesn't take long.

“What do you need?” he asks, because that message was not an “ask-to-catch-up” message.

“I need a way into the palace grounds.” It’s a favor, and one he shouldn’t grant, but she hopes he will anyways.

“Why?” he asks. Genuine confusion shows on his face.

“I want to break out Chat Noir - Adrien.”

“Wait.” The realization suddenly crosses his mind. “You were the person that helped him across the walls the other day, and the person he was staring at in the crowd.”

“You don’t have to say it so loud!” she hisses.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t turn you in right this second, Marinette.”

“Chat hasn’t done anything besides stealing the occasional loaf of bread and being a little bit annoying. Nothing he’s done deserves a stay in the palace dungeons. Perhaps some community service time, perhaps some rehabilitation, perhaps a proper family. But he hasn’t done anything that’d get him in that much trouble and that bad of a reputation. Most of it’s just unsubstantiated rumors. And it’d be wrong to charge someone on unsubstantiated rumors.”

“Yeah. I know. But you and I have very different perspectives on the law. I’ve been trained to enforce the law for a few years now. You’ve been training for most of your life to disobey it.”

Kim is one of five people that know she’s an assassin, and the only one who isn’t related to her by blood.

“So don’t do the legal thing, do the morally correct one. I mean, most laws are morally correct, but not all of them.”

“I can get you on the grounds. It’s up to you from there, Marinette.”

Kim still looks uneasy about betraying his job, but she’s turned him. It’s a victory - for her, for now. They both know how much of a risk he’s taking on this, even just sneaking her into the grounds would be enough to get him fired.

But Marinette won’t get caught. And she won’t reveal anything, not even at her last breath.

***

“Rucsbo,” she says, making herself invisible in front of him.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s go.” The walk won’t take very long at all - it didn’t take long for him, and they both walk pretty fast.

“Thanks again for doing this, Kim,” she whispers, invisibly lurking behind him. The barracks are on the palace grounds, and they’re walking back towards the gate. Kim rarely stays in the barracks, but he still has things there, including the change into his uniform he needs for his border shift.

They walk towards the gate. He doesn’t acknowledge her, because it’s crazy to talk to thin air.

Kim talks to the guards.

“Hey, I know I just got off my shift, but could you let me back in? I’m doing a border shift overnight and I’m going to take a nap, change into my uniform - in the barracks, you know how it is.” The guards are both a little bored and sympathetically nod, opening the gate to let him in. Marinette darts in quickly behind him. They’re in.

They head towards the barracks, but he pulls her aside from one of the paths.

“I’m not going to ask for any real payment, but I’m not going to let this be a complete favor. You owe me something in return, and I’m going to take it now, Mari. I have one question for you, and I need you to answer me as truthfully as you can.”

She nods. “On my honor as a Cheng assassin, I will tell you the truth.” It can’t be too difficult of a question.

“Are you in love with Chat Noir?”

[dontshootmespence]

Through the Pages

Chapter 23

“What is this?” Eleise asked sweetly, glancing between the tear-stained face of her soon-to-be husband and the shining purple stone.

Spencer chuckled softly as Eleise held out her hand. “I know this isn’t customary here but in my time, it is customary to give what’s called an engagement ring – a betrothal ring so to speak – to show the world we’ll be married.”

Smiling at the thought of all that she had yet to learn about Spencer’s time, she leaned against his chest momentarily before blushing. Her parents were still behind her. She turned her head to meet their teary-eyed gazes and beamed. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “Does it-does it look different in your time?”

“A little bit. Slightly brighter and more defined, but when I saw it, I saw it on your finger.”

                                                           -----

After moving past the initial confusion of an engagement ring, the two decided that they didn’t want to wait months or years as was normal in modern times. They wanted to be married as soon as possible and through themselves into pulling together an intimate wedding for their family and friends.

“We should combine our times somehow,” Spencer said offhandedly as they were discussing wedding plans. “Do you want to have the wedding here?”

A small hint of sadness hit her - the realization that her time in her home country was coming to an end – but she pushed it to the side and smiled. “Yes, as long as that was okay with you too.”

“I assumed you would want to have it here,” he replied. The thought of Eleise leaving her family filled with him with dread, but all he could do was hold out hope that the door wouldn’t let them down. “Emily, JJ and Penelope would love to accompany you when you go with your mother to pick out your dress, but if you don’t want them to they will understand.”

Her eyes lit up at the thought. “Brides make a day out of it?” She asked, the carriage passing the rain-slick streets with soft steps of the horse’s hooves. Being engaged meant she and Spencer could be slightly more open in public, holding hands and meeting without a chaperone. “I would love that. I want them to be my bridesmaid’s so we can pick them out then too.”

“What color would you like?”

“Color?”

“Well, in our time, bridesmaids don’t wear white so as to not distract from the bride.”

Eleise loved the idea and immediately insisted that purple be the common thread in their wedding decorations and attire. “I was hoping you’d say purple,” Spencer laughed. “And when it comes to what dress you want, the money is not important. Pick whatever you love most.”

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I think I’m the lucky one.”

                                                          -----

With unbridled joy and a growing dread, Eleanor planned a gathering to announce Eleise’s engagement – mostly neighbors, and family and friends from Alfred’s firm. Eleise had one secretary at the Yard that she talked with on occasion and invited her, but save for that the gathering was for show – a nod to her Victorian heritage.

Though she’d always known what was expected of her, she loathed the small talk she was forced to make, the excuses she was supposed to make for marrying “so late” in her life. 26 was late apparently. Spencer told her it was fairly early in 2011. Maybe it wouldn’t perfect. In fact, she knew it wouldn’t be. There would be things about Spencer’s time she couldn’t stand, but women seemed to fair better.

When all the guests finally left, Eleanor thanked her daughter for giving her the ability to throw the gathering. She didn’t mention it aloud, but with Eleise leaving this time behind, Eleanor at least wanted to keep up appearances if for no other reason than convenience.

The following day, Emily, JJ and Penelope walked through the door to accompany Eleise and her mother to search for the perfect Victorian gown.

Spencer insisted that the cost of the dress was no matter, but Eleise still kept the cost of the gown in mind as they sought out the perfect dress. There were a number of bridal shops in the area but they had little luck at the first three. Most of the dresses reminded Eleise too much of her mother’s wedding dress. “It’s too puffy for me, Mother.”

Oh, how the times had changed.

The majority of the others reminded her of the Queen’s, also too much for her taste. Considering she was a bride, she wanted to wear something with some sparkle, but finding the balance between shine and simplicity was more difficult than she’d ever imagined.

After stopping for a bite to each courtesy of Emily, JJ and Penelope, they continued on to the last store in the area. Eleise prayed they’d be able to find something. “That one!” Penelope said before they even walked in the door. “It’s stunning!”

“That’s something that would even hold up in our time,” JJ commented.

“Absolutely timeless.”

The dress in question was modeled in the window. Soft pink lace sleeves and color met with a beaded butterfly like it might as it flies toward the horizon. Pearlescent beads shone different shades of white, cream, pink and purple depending on where the sun hit it. From there down, the skirt flared gently outward with just enough detail to hold the theming of the dress together. She loved it.

Walking into the store, Eleise immediately scanned the dress for a price. “I can’t possibly buy this!” She exclaimed, crestfallen at the idea that her dream dress was so wildly out of reach. “It’s too much! I assumed I’d spend about six pounds, possibly eight.”

“Spencer told us to remind you that money was no problem,” Emily reminded her, gently touching Eleise’s arm.

Turning away from the dress with a somber smile, she nodded. “I know, but that dress is nearly 30 pounds. I want to look around the store first. See if I can find something less expensive.”

Even though Penelope especially, but Emily and JJ as well, wanted to see Eleise in the dress in the window, they appeased Eleise and searched around the store, using their modern fashion sense in the middle of Victorian England to find a good amalgam of the two.

Nothing felt right to Eleise. On more than one occasion, she found herself yearning to try on the one that had captured her heart.  Downcast and on the verge of tears, Eleise struggled with the thought of spending so much, even if it wasn’t her money to  spend. Although her mother was horrified by the price and couldn’t imagine spending so much, she believed Spencer when he said he would pay any price. “Dear,” she started, pushing a strand of her daughter’s hair out of her face, “Spencer did say that he would pay anything if you loved it. Why don’t you try it on?”

She approached the window and looked up at the garment in awe, her gaze bouncing between her mother, her new friends and the owner of the store, whose wife also worked their to help with dressing and fitting. “Good afternoon,” he greeted, bowing slightly before extending his hand. “You must be the beautiful bride. Would you like to try this one on? My wife can assist you.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded much to the happiness of everyone around her. The BAU ladies sat in wait for Eleise to come out from the back of the store. English dressing customs, all the petticoats and slips that needed to be worn in addition to the dress taking much more time than they’d intended, but when she emerged from the back they knew it was worth the wait. “You look like an angel,” Eleanor muttered softly, clenched hands held in front of her face.

There were very few times in Eleise’s life that she remembered her mother crying, but here she was. The blushing bride turned toward the mirror and back to her mother as the storeowner commented on how beautifully the dress looked on her. “It’s beautiful. Even more so on than it was in the window.”

“You are a picture of splendor and beauty,” the storeowner said with a smile.

Emily and JJ sat silently, beaming, but Penelope couldn’t hold herself. “Is this the one?” Eleise still had reservations regarding the price. “Spencer has given us his money for a down payment. We also want to give you two pounds a piece, and Spencer can return with you to pay for the rest.”

Eleise’s eyes brimmed with tears at the overwhelming sense of gratitude and emotion. “Are you sure?”

They hadn’t know her long, but she was the love of Spencer’s life and that meant she was family. “Yes,” Emily replied. “You look beautiful. Spencer loves you, which means we do to.”

“Then yes,” she sniffled, gratefully grabbing the handkerchief her mother offered. “I’ll need a veil or headpiece.”

“Spencer told us that Queen Victoria wore orange blossoms at her wedding,” JJ said fondly, imaging a flower crown on top of Eleise’s head. “What about that?”

Eleanor could see the light flare up in her daughter’s eyes followed by a quick flash of uncertainty. “That will be a gift from your father and I.”

Flinging herself in her mother’s direction, Eleise sobbed into her shoulder. Watching her become the woman that stood before had been everything Eleanor ever hoped it would be.

Having decided on the dress, Eleise got changed back into the clothing she’d worn earlier allowing Emily, JJ and Penelope to settle the matter of payment with the storeowner; it was an astounding 31 pounds, 8 shillings and 2 and three quarter pence. Between the BAU ladies, the price came down to 25 pounds even. The money Spencer gave to them brought it down again to 15. “My fiancée can return with me soon to pay off the rest of the debt,” Eleise smiled softly. “Is that agreeable?”

“Absolutely,” he replied. “Thank you, Miss Griffiths. I’m sure you will be the picture of perfection on your wedding day.”

It had been a long and tiring day, but there was still one thing on her mind. She had the dress. She knew the flowers she wanted. She knew who would be in attendance. But there was one other matter she needed to attend to before they could pull together the simple wedding she’d always wanted.

All five women returned to the alleyway where JJ, Penelope and Emily returned home. “Spencer, there is one matter I wanted to discuss with you. Actually two.”

Spencer invited Eleise and her mother into his apartment and closed the door, once again handing Eleanor a blanket to cover her modesty if she so chose. “What is it?”

“We both wanted this to be simple, yes? Just my parents and your friends?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“What about your mother?”

Spencer sighed. “With my mother’s diagnosis, I don’t think it would be wise to bring her here. I don’t think she would be able to comprehend it. I hoped that maybe we could do a courthouse wedding here. That’s what we call it. And we could get married in front of her at that point. We would need to do something like that here anyway because I highly doubt a marriage license from the 1890s would hold up in 2011.”

Giggling, Eleise placed her hand over Spencer’s. “That would be wonderful. I would like your mother to see us get married in some way.”

“Me too,” he said, pausing. “What was the other thing you wanted to ask me?’

They discussed religion before. Eleise had be born into the Church of England and although she wasn’t a strict practitioner and was questioning certain practices as of late, she always dreamed of getting married in the church she attended as a child. “I wanted to get married in my childhood church, but…”

“But I would have to be baptized into the church, right?”

Nodding, her breath caught in her throat. She knew Spencer wasn’t religious, explaining his reasons for being a man of science and she respected that, but getting married in her church had always been her dream. “Would you?” She asked, almost too softly for anyone to hear.

“Of course,” Spencer smiled. Just as Eleise had before, Spencer noted the sheen in her mother’s eyes.  

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I may not practice, but I would do anything for you.”

She leapt across the expanse between them and wrapped her arms around his neck, tears rolling down her cheeks to land on his t-shirt. “Thank you, Spencer. I’ll never understand how I got so lucky.”

@remember-me-forever-silent-angel @veroinnumera @alixcharmedworld @kitsch-i-might-be @sharon6713 @gaylemonshark @zombies-bunny @spencerwreid @ophila-archie-l @theatre-mom @too-music @illegalcerebral @madduhsen @rayreids @criminalnoodler @princesswagger15 @followingmyowndirection @kawhgi @astridstark13 @extremeobsessions101 @pretentiouslisp @meghanll @jillthekill @coffee-and-stories​ @thekatherinewinchester @courtneymarieroseee​ @ashley2197​ @tbhm1a​ @fl0werb0nes18​ @professional-fangirl-2002 @everyday-imfangirling @bookaddictlove​ @stunudo​ @spencer-is-too-perfect​ @meganlpie​ @rawritsmolly​ @sebba-hiddles​ @spookyshyguy @rt8815​ @badbitsh13​ @epicstepic @queenanneslace4​ @giddybeater​ @chilloutbitchx @teaspoon-full-of-sugar​ @transparentmilkshakefury @sunflowerscratches @mad-maximilian​ @antoheartit​ @sallangel @moonlightrose18​ @confused-and-really-hungry​ @reallyshypeanut​ @clockworkballerina​ @youknowisay @niall2017​ @were-skye​ @generouslyuniquestudent @forcingsmiles247​ @weirdgirlwithproblems @saraisthoughts​ @louis-writings​ @flannelparker​ @nadpug​ @pastroptard @pandacraz09​ @kitten863 @simitten​ @xxm3xxj​ @just-antiyou​ @whaaatthefuuuuck @thatnerdygirljudy​ @notes-in-a-bottle​ @wkxicnrueiiejjf @catherinechatzi​ @fernicusb​ @princessjae92​ @original-criminal-fanfics​ @teamwolf2411​ @piotreknawrot @aligre-blog @call-me-meh @donnacif-blog @lastfallenstar @crimeshowtrash​ @grenae18​ @annexoeh​ @captswann​ @the-unloved-person @april1535​ @stupidmenina @chloereidjonesellessar​ @imaginativedaydreams @bbkenna @immundusspiritu @karouwinchester @thelateliterary @sassyspacedust @spicy-quarius @emilyshurley @heycasbutt

[exalok]

Prince!Daud AU, part 4 (repost)

My dearest Corvo, the letter began, and Corvo heaved a long, deeply relieved sigh and settled down in the armchair to read.

I would ask your forgiveness for my silence, but I know you have not held it against me. I have been terribly busy setting up the necessary means of distribution for the supplies Serkonos will be sending us shortly. Prince Daud assured me the ships would arrive within the month; it has been hardly more than a week and already I am impatient to see the sails cresting the horizon as they sail up the Wrenhaven.

The plague continues to ravage my city. I fear for my people, but I know Serkonos will remain true, and our philosophers are hard at work looking for a cure. I know we will surpass this. Only believe me and it will become truth, rather than faith.

Tell me about your first days of marriage. Is Daud as sour as he seems? Does he sleep in the nude?

Corvo covered his face with his hands. It did nothing to stop the flush in his cheeks. Jess had always had a... very healthy sense of curiosity, and been entirely unafraid to sate it. Half anticipating disaster, half biting his lip to keep in his laughter, Corvo rested his head in one hand and kept on.

Tell me everything about his strange little habits and embarrassing secrets. I promise not to use any of it as blackmail, or spill a thing to my Spymaster. You know I will keep my word.

The smile choked him against his will. Corvo breathed in deep, then back out through his nose.

I began by saying I would not ask your forgiveness, but now I think I must – for I have taken this long to tell you something you have, I believe, waited to hear for nearly a year.

I gave birth. Two days ago. Another reason I did not write sooner.

Her name is Emily. Please forgive me for making you wait all this long letter to know.

Corvo's hands didn't shake, but still he heard, rumbling from the depths of the bed, Daud's voice:

“Attano.” A rustling of blankets as Daud moved, and the dry sound of paper. He'd been reading. “Something wrong.”

“Mm,” Corvo managed, his voice hoarse. He scraped away the wetness from his eyelids. “No.”

She is a wonder. Her hands and feet are so small, and her eyes – the truest blue! I wish you could see how beautiful she is, and hear how strong: I do believe she woke half of Dunwall Tower with her wailing when she found her first breath. She will amaze you. I imagine she does already, my dearest friend.

Waiting for your swift reply,

Your Empress,

Jessamine Kaldwin

Jess held a strange and special place in his heart; she knew this as well as he did, and the opposite was just as true. Not siblings, but just as conspiratorial; not lovers, nor sweethearts, but just as generous with the tender parts of themselves. Corvo shared in her joy for the existence of her daughter like the child, a child he had not even seen, was his own.

They had slept together once – when Jessamine was eighteen, a gorgeous and infuriating woman, some wild and momentary loss of control. The morning after she had looked at him from her seat at the vanity, him with his hair tangled in sleep, bleary-eyed, apprehensive, and she'd laughed and jumped on the mattress next to him, stroking the hair from his forehead.

I enjoyed last night very much, she'd said, cross-legged, her painted smile soft and genuine. But I don't think it should happen again.

Oh, yeah, he'd said right away, a certain tension running right out of him. I mean, no. I agree.

And she'd grinned and kissed his forehead, and had spent an hour brushing his hair into a silky ponytail.

They had never felt the urge again. Jessamine had fooled around with her fair share of lovers over the years, since – it was anyone's guess who Emily's father was, though when asked, Jess would always share a small, secretive smile, like she knew exactly who and wouldn't tell.

But –

Another series of rustles interrupted his thoughts as Daud shifted again, and the light in the room suddenly dimmed. The Prince had shut off his lamp. All that was left was the flickering glow of Corvo's candle.

“Goodnight,” Daud rumbled, or something close enough. The words were mostly muffled by the blankets. Within minutes his breathing had deepened, evening out, the rasp fading and dying out entirely.

Right. But none of that could change that she was an Empress, and Corvo existed to serve her. She'd never told him what the real purpose of this marriage was. He knew she kept certain things close to the chest – not even he knew her every secret – and he didn't fault her that caution, or that desire for privacy, but sometimes he didn't understand the reasoning behind any of it. He wished, a little, that if he had to be away from the closest friend he'd ever had, he could at least have been allowed to escape the opaque world of the court.

No luck: married to a Prince. He would have to make do.

His mood only slightly dampened, Corvo drew out a blank sheet of thick, expensive paper, grabbed a pen from the holder at the edge of the desk by the armchair, and started writing.

Jess,

I have seen with my own eyes the hours it takes you to keep your Empire going, so no, I don't fault you the time it took to write this letter. It is the same over here in Serkonos: Daud spends most of the day in his office, dealing with correspondence, or in council arguing over the state of the law, and only finds time for himself late in the evening. Quite a bit of it all has been about the supplies, what to send and where to take it from. Be certain Serkonos will keep to the deal.

Have more staff at the Tower fallen ill? Be careful. I worry now that I'm not there to shield you, should you need it, though I know you wouldn't have sent me away without ensuring your own safety first.

But my believing you, and believing in you, has never been in doubt. You will guide Dunwall through this. The plague won't know what hit it.

Now –

Corvo glanced back at Daud, the pen stilling in his hand. Silence at first, like a veil in the darkness of the royal bedroom, then the sound of cloth as Daud moved in his sleep. Corvo bent over the letter again.

Daud is quiet. Not so much sour as disapproving. He glares at my nails when they grow too long and my hair when it isn't tied. Other than that, he keeps to himself. His hands are always stained with ink, which I think is why he wears those gloves, and – I almost laughed when I found out – he puts lifts inside his shoes to look taller. Really he's an inch or two shorter than me. The glaring is almost endearing for it.

I'm not telling you what he looks like when he sleeps. You'll just have to find out for yourself.

Aside from that, he's terrible. No sense of self-preservation. You'd think he would know to keep himself surrounded, being the prince of an entire country, but no. It's very frustrating.

I am

Corvo swallowed, emotion getting the best of him again as he imagined that pink, wrinkled face in the crook of Jessamine's arm. The desperate surge inside him was difficult to couch in words. He hardly knew what to call it.

I am so happy. Emily is a beautiful name. Maybe you could convince Sokolov to paint her, and send me the portrait, so I could see her real face rather than let my imagination try to do it justice. It might even teach him to draw something other than sad, tired faces.

Tell me as much as you can about her. She'll have already grown so much by the time I can visit you in Dunwall.

He signed it with his name – nothing like the flourish Jess could trace from the tip of a quill, but familiar, the same as what he would have written at the end of a note left on the edge of her desk. There was no need for fancy curls between them.

Folded, addressed, and sealed with Daud's Karnaca-blue wax stick, imprinted with the ring Jess had given him as a parting present. Simpler than her own signet ring, but detailed enough: the head and long neck of a bird, bracketed by graceful curves like upraised wings. Her symbol. It was a little like he was still hers, when he pressed the mark into the hot wax and left the letter on top of the messages to be sent off in the morning.

The linens, when Corvo slid underneath the covers as quietly as he could, were still as off-putting as they had been the other times he'd slept in them: being Royal Protector gave him certain privileges, but these sheets were cool and smooth as water on his skin, quickly radiating back his own warmth, the kind of quality he'd only expect of his Empress's things. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of that night he'd spent in her bed, four years ago.

As quiet and discreet as he was, that didn't change the indent he made in the mattress as he lay down, and he expected Daud to at least resettle to compensate – but the Prince lay still and silent; not tense, and his breathing was still deep and even, but – he wasn't snoring, either. Corvo frowned.

“You're not sleeping,” he murmured, brushing Daud's shoulder. The only reaction was a pause in the Prince's breathing: an emptiness, where before there had been sound.

“No,” Daud replied, a bass rasp, like a quake in the earth.

Corvo hesitated, drawing his hand back, then said, “Does that happen often?”

The Prince said nothing for such a long moment Corvo assumed he'd either properly fallen asleep, or hadn't deemed the question worth answering. His voice drifted up out of the formless dark, wry, an edge of mockery: “Sometimes.”

Corvo dropped the subject, and some time later the Prince relaxed again. It was unsure which of them fell asleep first, but when dawn pried through the gaps in the window shutters and stirred Corvo out of slumber, the other side of the bed was empty and cold.

[theimaginesyouneveraskedfor]

Roo’s Classic Literature Writing Challenge

As my first writing challenge, I am going to provide a list of classic literature quotes under the cut for all you lovelies to choose from. I thought it would be something a little different for everyone and something to have fun with.  

Now you may have a few questions and I will answer them all before we begin:

Do I have to follow you to participate?

Not at all. I understand my blog isn’t for everyone and this isn’t to promote me, it’s to promote all of you lovely writers! It’s not required, but a reblog always helps spread the word for the challenge, too.

Which fandom do I write for?

That is entirely up to you. Your choice of fandom and characters. As well you can write Reader, AU, or Pairings. It is all your creative prerogative.

What kind of story do I write?

Angst, fluff, smut, whatever. They will all be accepted within reason (ie. no incest or non-consent).

What do I do with the quote? Do I choose only one?

The quotes are intended to provide a theme or mood for your story but that doesn’t mean you can’t include it directly in your piece. And if you want to choose more than one, go for it!

How do I get involved?

Send me an ask with the following:

               *fandom and character (s)

               *your selected quote

After you’ve finished, send me and ask or tag me in your fic and tag it

#Roo’s Classic Lit Challenge

. If I don’t reblog/like within a day, send me a message to make sure I’ve seen it.

All fics will be included in a masterlist that I will include on my blog 😊

When do I have to get this done by?

I know all of you have WiPs and all those lovely projects, so I will be generous with my time and set it for

Friday, April 20th, 2018.

Any other questions are appreciated and I look forward to reading all of your creations!

Quotes:

1.       “I like good strong words that mean something…” ― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

2.       “My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.” ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

3.       “Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.” ― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

4.       “No evil dooms us hopelessly except the evil we love, and desire to continue in, and make no effort to escape from. ” ― George Eliot, Daniel Deronda

5.       “I am not proud, but I am happy; and happiness blinds, I think, more than pride.” ― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

6.       “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.” ― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

7.       “There was a star riding through clouds one night, & I said to the star, 'Consume me'.” ― Virginia Woolf, The Waves

8.       “I'd rather take coffee than compliments just now.” ― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

9.       “Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist

10.   “Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.” ― Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus

11.   “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

12.   “Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.” ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

13.   “As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment.” ― John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men

14.   “You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope...I have loved none but you.” ― Jane Austen, Persuasion

15.   “Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” ― Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

16.   “Tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it... Yet.” ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

17.   “It's necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live.” ― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

18.   “I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.” ― Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus

19.   “We dream in our waking moments, and walk in our sleep.” — Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

20.   “There is but one coward on earth, and that is the coward that dare not know.” ― W.E.B. Du Bois, Dusk of Dawn

21.   “Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way.” ― Jane Austen, Emma

22.   “I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Happy Prince and Other Stories

23.   “What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?” ― George Eliot, Middlemarch

24.   “There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.” ― Edgar Allan Poe, The Masque of the Red Death

25.   “It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn.” ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

26.   “People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for.” ― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

27.   “At the moment when her eyes closed, when all feeling vanished in her, she thought that she felt a touch of fire imprinted on her lips, a kiss more burning than the red-hot iron of the executioner.” ― Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame

28.   “Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat.” ― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

29.   “I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.” ― Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

30.   “It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.” ― H.G. Wells, The Time Machine

31.   "It's much better to do good in a way that no one knows anything about it." ― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

32.   ­"It is a great misfortune to be alone, my friends; and it must be believed that solitude can quickly destroy reason." ― Jules Verne, The Mysterious Island

33.   “I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

34.   “No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.” ― Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

35.   “Alright then, I’ll go to hell.” ― Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

36.   “The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.” ― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Hound of the Baskervilles

37.   “Some people could look at a mud puddle and see an ocean with ships.” ― Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

38.   “I saw the Cloud, though I did not foresee the Storm.” ― Daniel Defoe, Moll Flanders

39.   “After all, tomorrow is another day!” ― Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

40.   “I look at you and a sense of wonder takes me.” — Homer, The Odyssey

41.   “We can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.” — George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss

42.   “The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.” — John Milton, Paradise Lost

43.   “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

44.   “I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I'll go to it laughing.” — Herman Melville, Moby Dick

45.   “It’s better to look at the sky than live there” — Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s

46.   “I am satisfied ... I see, dance, laugh, sing.” ― Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

47.   “We learn words by rote, but not their meaning; that must be paid for with our life-blood, and printed in the subtle fibres of our nerves.” ― George Eliot, The Lifted Veil

48.   “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

49.   “I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

50.   “If you look the right way, you can see the whole world is a garden.” ― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

[milquetoast-on-acid]

Sharon & Andy's Wedding, A Meta Shandy post

What this meta is about: Windows & Doors The Weddings There was Fashion... There was Music... There was Bantering... There was Love...

Windows and Doors

Remember that little thing I talked about in my Meta on Shandy's Proposal about windows and doors?

Oh look...there's another door. 

It's a amazing entrance for the bride. They way she's lit. In the words of Tony "like an angel". That door is the final barrier separating Sharon from Andy and it's finally open to him. That damn door he's been wanting to open for years. I think they picked these two usher's deliberately because of how much they look like Ricky and Rusty from the back.

The Weddings

Lets talk a minute to talk a bit about each of the weddings featured on The Closer and Major Crimes. Each wedding was different and each wedding was unique to the character's personalities.

Brenda & Fritz Brenda and Fritz's wedding was the smallest. There were only three people in attendance. The most important people in Brenda and Fritz's lives, Brenda's parents and Fritz's sister. It was beautiful but I had to wonder why they spent so much time decorating, if they weren't going to have anyone at the wedding. Might have made more sense if they had their reception where they got married but they ended up having it at their house. 

Having a teeny tiny wedding and Brenda wearing her mother's wedding dress. Really makes sense for her character. On the outside Brenda may seem warm and friendly but she really keeps people at arms length. Even her squadmates, who she ends up telling them that she loves them.

Louie & Patrice What surprised me was how much Provenza wanted a huge wedding. He was like Go big or go home. And that it was Patrice that wanted a small quiet wedding. From what little we see of Patrice, I get the feeling that she's not afraid to spend money. She redid Provenza's house and she talks about wanting Provenza to retire so they can travel. So I really loved the role reversal here. I do think that when Provenza looks back on his wedding. Once he's down from that love high. It was exactly the wedding of his dreams. It was secular and small. Beautiful with all of his closest family.

Sharon & Andy As we learn in Bad Blood, Sharon really wanted a church wedding. And we all know that Andy is into big grand gestures. He wanted to propose to Sharon on a special trip to Napa and then out to dinner at Serve (where they had their first real date). This is about as big and grand of a wedding as you can get without being a royal wedding. And out of all of the weddings, this one really focuses on family. Sharon also as we know loves celebrations and weddings.

As much as it was a celebration of Sharon and Andy's love. It was also a celebration of Family. Family is a hugely important thing to both of them and family plays a huge part in this episode as well as the wedding. They surround themselves with their family on their wedding day. Not just the Raydor/Flynn/Beck family but also their squad mates who they both think of as extended family. When Andy had no one else, he had Provenza and his squad mates. And in another comparison to Brenda. Sharon who initially seems cold and distant, is someone that gets attached to people very easily. While the squad was always a bit of family it's not until Sharon's leadership that they really feel like a true family. 

Something that I really loved about this wedding was the emotion. This wedding hands down is the most emotional wedding. All of the bridesmaids (with the exception of Andrea) are full on crying. Even Mason is teary eyed when he's talking to Page and he hasn't been part of the squad for that long. And both the bride and groom are having a hard time keep in together.

There was fashion...

The Guests

What the hell is Gus wearing!? Seriously Gus always had style but then he shows up in this---I don’t even know what color this is? Brown, Maroon, Ron Burgundy thing. 

A lot of people have talked about the missing guests. Including Andy's family, I had hoped for a mention of them (at the very least) but unfortunately we didn't get it. I would have thought that Fritz would have been there at the very least because Jon Tenny is still very involved with the show. Another person that I wanted to be here that I don't think anyone has talked about is. Doctor Joe, I don't see him at all. I understand he's more involved with Rusty but still, would have liked to have seen him. 

Interesting that all of the extended gang (Morales, Kendell, Mason and Page) are all sitting on Andy's side. While Gus is sitting on Sharon's side.

The Color Purple When Sharon and Andy were sending out their invitations to the wedding or the engagement party (still not sure which). They were sending them out in mint green envelops and that surprised me as I had always thought that Sharon and Andy's color would be purple. Given how much that color has played a huge role in their relationship. 

Not only is purple a mixture of Sharon's (blue) and Andy's (red) personalities. But it is a color that they wear quite frequently and it is the very first color they were matched with way back in The Closer days.

The Groomsmen When they filmed the wedding, some of the photos that had been posted on FB and Instagram made the groomsmen's ties look black. So I had to wonder what is different about Andy's suit. And it wasn't until the wedding that it was clear they were purple to match the bridesmaids dresses. I loved that shot of them all lining up after Sharon steps up next to Andy. Loved seeing how Ricky's tie was different from the rest of the groomsmen and that he went to the groomsmen instead of the bridesmaids.

The Bridesmaids I love the bridesmaids dresses. Kind of thought for Sharon's wedding they would have floor length dresses but I do think that the length actually suits the personalities of the women. Not to mention that they all look fablious in them.

The Groom As handsome as Andy does look in his suit. I think I would have liked him in a vest. It's been years since he's worn one but he looks pretty sexy in them. I like that Andy went for something that wasn't your typical tux. He choose something that was very simple but elegant. Which is very line line with Sharon's style. I had also thought that the only distinguishing thing on his suit was the white calla lily but it turns out that the groomsmen’s ties were purple.

The Bride Much like everyone else's reactions. I've got mixed feelings about it. I did not look at the photographs posted of her dress before the wedding. The only glimpse of the dress I got was when people openly posted the dress and I looked away as fast as I could. 

I'm going to talk about what I don't like about the dress first. The veil. I did not expect Sharon to wear a veil. We never see Sharon wearing hats or headbands or anything in her hair. So I was a bit surprised by it. The only way I could see Sharon wanting a veil is due to how damned traditional it is. I don't like it and I don't think that it was needed. The short sleeves and the belt, I also thought were not needed. I felt the short sleeves were a weird choice and makes for a strange transition into the lace sleeves. 

Onto what I did like about the dress. Everyone knew there had to be lace in that dress somewhere. And so I really liked that the sleeves where lace. I think the dress would have been better if the sleeves transitioned into lace without them sticking out the way they did. If it had been a straight transition. The dress was the perfect length for her. It did not have the typical train, and I thought it looked better from the back. Sharon's boobs also looked pretty good in that dress. NO GLASSES! As often as Sharon wears her damned glasses I had HOPED that she wouldn't wear them down the aisle. And thank goodness she didn't. Mary has such beautiful eyes it is a shame that the show always covers them up.

There was bantering...

Rusty & Mark

Turns out that Rusty and Mark are Sharon and Andy's ring bearers. It's a rather interesting choice to have these two in this role. Both of the boys are adopted sons of members of the squad. And I really love how the bantering between the two is very sibling like. Very heartwarming to see Rusty helping out Mark in a rather affectionate way. Six years ago Rusty wouldn't have the patience to big brother Mark. Mark on the other hand is just like your typical kid in a wedding. Ready for it to be over and ready for cake. 

Just noticed that the two of them have matching ties. 

Rusty guiding Mark into position, is the cutiest thing. Mark is just like a little Rusty. These two have so much in common. Their stubborn nature, their obvious love for their adopted parent, their clear need to be loved. Mark can really learn a lot from Rusty. And now I feel that Rusty has finally matured into a wonderful young man. That he can guide him and teach him things that only Rusty can understand having been adopted and also having had a really screwed up childhood.

The Bridesmaids Amy getting scolded for not being quite ready. Andrea complaining that she's had enough of weddings (and that it will last her a lifetime) and she will in no shape or form ever get married. Emily so ready for Mr or Mrs Right. Amy not thinking that Sharon's going to go through with the very typical tradition of the bouquet throwing. While Patrice has no doubt that Sharon's going to follow every single wedding tradition. 

From the wedding I had been surprised by the order of the bridesmaids. I had envisioned them backwards from what they ended up being. I had no doubt that Emily would be the maid of honor. And I thought that Sharon was closer to Andrea than she was to Patrice. Which really makes me think that Sharon and Andy spend a hell of a lot of time with Provenza and Patrice. And Patrice's little line about how Sharon will throw the wedding bouquet really goes to show you just how well she knows her. I can see the two of them having so much in common and I'd really love to see more of this friendship.

There was music...

Ave Maria by Franz Schubert

Ave Maria is such a beautiful piece of music. It's iconic, it's classic and a traditional catholic prayer. It's absolutely gorgeous and just the right piece of music for Sharon's walk down the aisle. I'm also very glad that it wasn't the boring and very typical wedding march. It would not have fit for Sharon and Andy.

Not a day goes by Stephen Sondheim sung by Olivia Mell First of all I had never heard Olivia sing. She's got such a beautiful voice and I think they really picked the right singer for this. I'd also never heard the song before. So after having looked up the correct lyrics I do think they fit for our couple. The lyrics talk about how a person comes into their life and things are going really great. But their waiting for that shoe to drop and for the relationship to end but it doesn't. Instead these two people get closer and as their lives become more entwined, the more it becomes clear that they can't live without the other. 

It makes me think of when Sharon and Andy first told Taylor about their relationship. And Andy said that if things don't work out between them they'd just go back to being really great friends. 

I think as their relationship has gotten deeper. I think that the depth of their feelings for the other has just become clearer and clearer to them. In my opinion, Andy has been in love with Sharon since season 3, episode 1. When he said that he would wait for her. But I don't think he was aware then that he was in love with her. I think it was something he realized sometime before they started dating for real. He definitely knew he had feelings for her for sure but not the depth of them. 

Sharon on the other hand is harder to pin down because of just how much she holds inside of herself. Sharon was surely the one that's had to catch up to where Andy's been at in their relationship. In my opinion she fell for him before they started dating. With her realizing it when he got injured by the car and both of them being too scared to tell the other. To now both of them couldn't have been more clear in that ILY scene just what the other means to them.

There was love...

Much like with Provenza's wedding, each major love story get's its tiny moment. 

Rusty and Gus Rusty has been trying for who knows how long to get into contact with Gus and finally decided to end it with a letter. Lo and behold Gus, shows up looking very sad, realizing what he threw away. The moment is full of awkward. And at this point in the story I have to say. I think it's time these two broke up. I think this is a couple, despite how they may feel about each other. That just has too many obstacles between them. 

I do think that Gus was really good for Rusty for a while. He did push him to appreciate people's time more and that is a lesson that Rusty needed to learn. But after so long shit just got in the way. And how I feel it's time to part ways. Kudos for Rusty for being the bigger man and sending Gus a letter letting him know it's okay and I don't blame you. 

Luckily, Dad noticed the moment. Hopefully he will talk to Rusty later.

Julio and Mark Mark is still being his normal stubborn self. Not listening to anymore. But Julio looks at the boy like the sun rises in his eyes. He's a proud papa who's finally found the love he's so desperately needed. There is so much about this episode that talks about how you have to faith that everything will turn out the way that it's supposed to in the end. 

It makes me think about what if Julio did not have Mark in his life before his mother died. Julio's mother being (what I think is the last of Julio's family) to be alive. Julio wouldn't have been alone because he's got his work family. But because Julio is such a sensitive emotional soul. It may be something that could have sent him spiraling. The way his wife's death sent him into a very angry spin. It makes me think that Mark came into Julio's life in just the right time.

Julio you know he's only doing it to get your attention. 

Andy and Provenza "How do I look?" "Better than Usual." We can't forget our epic bromance. In which everyone thought that Flynn and Provenza would die as two single bachelors with only the other to share their life with. I would love for Brenda to come back and learn that the two of them are now both married men. To the two women that she never would have expected either of them to marry.

Andy is nervous and looks to Provenza a few times during the ceremony for some words of encouragement. And with everything emotional thing that happens between the two of them. Humor is their weapon they both use to defuse tough moments. It works the first time and the second time, Andy looks to Provenza for encouragement. Provenza gives him a nice heartfelt pat on the back. Giving his approval and telling Andy, you've got this.

Provenza and Patrice A very emotional Patrice sends her husband a kiss. Even Provenza gets choked up. These two are so freaking cute and there's no doubt that this wife is the one and that she's here to stay.

Sharon, Ricky, Emily and Andy "It's never been so full." I love the little conversation that the two of them have walking down the aisle. Ricky asks how her heart is doing. In a typical semi-humorous manner. Sharon's answer hits you straight in the gut at just how happy she is, to finally make her whole family complete. Mary has talked a lot about where Sharon has been (emotionally) during her relationship with Andy. That she didn't need a man and she didn't need to marry him either. But the thing that struck me was when she said that she wouldn't marry any man but Andy. 

It is such a bittersweet moment because there is this ever looming specter of death that seems to be following Sharon. And both Emily and Ricky are feeling it during this episode and during the wedding. Both kids are so happy that they are able to be here and help give her this wedding. Right after this conversation Ricky has this look...

Earlier we get Emily walking down the aisle with tears streaming down her face just as torn up as Ricky is about Sharon’s illness. 

Love seeing Andy shake Ricky's hand right before Ricky goes to stand with the groomsmen. I loved that and thought it was an interesting choice for Ricky to walk Sharon down the aisle and then to stand with the groomsmen. Instead of his standing with the bridesmaids. It really furthers him as a huge Sharon & Andy cheerleader.

Sharon and Andy When they see the other for the first time. Andy completely melts, Provenza may just need to grab his bucket hat to scoop him back up again. I love how Sharon cocks her head and gives him this sweet smile. The smile that is just for him. I love this because it's one of those moments where everyone else falls away and i'ts only the two of them in the room together. 

It seems that Andy is not the only nervous one. Sharon takes a huge breathe right before Ricky steps over to her. Once Sharon makes it down the aisle, I love that Andy gives his bride a full once over. Gives her one of his infamous Andy Flynn smiles, his eyes sparkling from emotion.

While Sharon responds with her look of total love and happiness. There's this little thing that she always seems to do with him when she's overcome with emotions. She pushes herself towards him and then realizes just how giddy she is and holds herself back. She's also done this in Blackout when Andy tells her about the severity of his injuries.

What could have been improved on: The beautiful emotional wedding could have been longer. We could have seen the two of them actually get  married. Someone around the fandom mentioned it could have all been done in silence with just Ave Maria playing and I think that would have been perfect. I would have liked for the wedding to have ended with a shot of both Sharon and Andy, instead of a shot of Sharon. We get a shot of both of their reactions at FINALLY coming to this point. And then a shot of both of them looking at each other.

What do I love about this wedding? 

It's BIG with groomsmen and bridesmaids. Which we have never had at a TC or MC wedding. Flowers AF. And this was the most emotional wedding. Everyone was crying or choked up. I think Andrea is the only bridesmaid that didn't cry. The Bride and Groom were both on the verge of tears several times. Even Provenza looked like he was choking back some. This was a very wonderful payoff for this relationship that has been culminating for years. For something like this to actually have happened and for us to get a glimpse of it. 

Both Sharon and Andy are so in love with the other. And are both so happy to be getting married. Andy has always been two steps ahead of Sharon in their relationship. Now they are at the same place in their relationship, Sharon has finally caught up to him. Neither of them had ever thought they would get married again. Andy was a bachelor coasting through life. Sharon was married but separated and had been living an independent life for nearly 30 years. But it was only the other one they were ever going to change their life for.