#and i like the idea of her and fictional!Matty being friends

[allylikethecat]

what’s the nashville fic?

Hi!! The Nashville Fic was born out of an ask ages ago, that was something along the lines of "what's a fic idea that you probably won't write" but then I shared the plot of the nashville fic and was encouraged to actually write it - I haven't started posting it yet, but it will be making it's debut eventually!

Basically - Fictional!Matty, at the age of 34, has a sexuality crisis (relatable) and realizes that he's in love with his best friend, Fictional!George (also relatable) and instead of handling it like a mature grown adult he panics and decides to hide out with the one friend that he has that is just "his friend" and not a mutual friend of him *and* Fictional!George: Fictional!Taylor this leads to the world suddenly thinking he's dating Fictional!Taylor (he's very much not) and a whole lot of backlash - they are very much NOT dating, and will very much NOT be dating AT ALL but the rest of the world doesn't know or believe that. (Fictional!Matty is just really excited Fictional!George appears to be jealous because maybe, just maybe, that means Fictional!George might like him too!) Basically it's another chance to have my favorite fictional bisexual disaster duo come together and make a mess of things - except Fictional!Matty will for sure be getting his man in this one!

Thank you so much for taking the time to send this ask!! I hope you are having a lovely day and that you have a great rest of your week! I also hope you enjoy the Nashville Fic when the time comes!

❤️Ally

[solarsturniolo]

𝖂𝖊’𝖗𝖊 𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘 // 𝕸.𝕾. // 𝔗𝔴𝔬

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Matt is so 'sweet best friend that secretly jerks off to your pictures' coded (idea credit to @heartstreet )

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: SMUT!!! / masturbation / voyeurism / post nut clarity / self-deprecation / intentional lowercase

𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: these stories are fictional :)

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3030

It slowly became a habit. It started small, one time a day if even that. But what started as a habit grew into an addiction. Every little thing set him off, and the only thing to satisfy the desire in him was her. He needed her in ways that he couldn’t even describe. He hungered for her. 

It began with pictures, just her regular little posts on Instagram and Snapchat that had no hidden undertone to them, but every single one would have Matt beating his dick until his arm was sore. She had Pavloved him. The second he got the notification that his best friend posted, his cock stiffened and his ears got red and hot just thinking about what could be waiting for him. It didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing, he’d drop everything, all of his attention would be on her in an instant. Today was no different; he had already beat off three times in the few hours he had been awake.

As the day moved forward, and he found the inner strength to keep his dick in his pants, Matt remembered telling her that he’d look for the charger she had left when she stayed over a few nights ago. He spent a solid hour that afternoon searching the house up and down for her phone charger; his room, the living room, the kitchen, Nick’s room, hell, he even checked Chris’s room (despite Chris’s many protests followed by a shoe being launched at Matt’s shin), though he still came up empty handed. 

Matt went back to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He took a seat in his desk chair, rolling himself close enough to his desk to click his monitor on, grabbing the controller that had been set aside on his desk to charge. He turned his gaming console on, the sound of it whirring to life filling the silence in the room. He reached into his pocket, taking his phone out to send her a quick text.

‘i may have lost it’

‘your mind?’

‘no’

‘your keys?’

‘no’

‘OMG’

‘?’

‘YOUR V CARD?????’

‘WHAT NO’

‘omg matty who is she 🤭🤭🤭🤭’

‘I DID NOT’

‘then i fear i do not know what you could be talking about, for i am not a mind reader’

‘your weird’

‘you’re*’

‘i actually hate you.’

‘stfu you love me. now what are u talking abt’

‘you’re charger’

‘your*’

‘you know what 😀’

‘LMAOOOO don’t blow a fuse, it’s a $10 charger i’ll just get another one. thank u for letting me know tho’

‘ofc’

He stared at the screen, his heart beating faster when he saw the read receipt pop up under his message. He waited, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as she began to type. A smile tugged at his lips as the typing message bubble disappeared, waiting for the message to pop up on his screen.

A minute passed. Then two. Still nothing. Matt’s smile faltered a little.

‘?’

‘oh shit i didn’t know you were still here’

‘what we’re you typing?’

‘were*’

‘😀 nevermind i don’t care’

‘noooo matty come back 😂’

‘i’ll get it right one day’

‘i have full faith in you, matthew. until then, im gonna be up your ass about it’

‘so…?’

‘so what?’

‘what were you typing?’

Matt could hardly sit still. His leg bounced anxiously, he bit his nails impatiently. She had been typing for a while, was it something bad? Shit, have i fucked up recently and just didn’t notice?

‘nothing 😇’

‘you’re a dirty liar’

‘😜’

‘cmon, i’m youre best friend tell meeeee’

‘your*’

‘GET A NEW BEST FRIEND’

‘okay okay i’m done 😂 you’re so easy to tease’

‘Ayo 🤨’

‘not like that 🙄

‘well, you probably are pretty easy to tease like that too”

Matt choked on his own saliva. Did I read that right? He read it again, the blood rushing from his cheeks to his cock. His brain short circuited. Any possible responses that he could’ve came up with dissolved into nothingness. He spent two minutes trying to type a witty comeback or some sort of smooth flirtatious reply, but when push came to shove, all he could build the courage to send was-

‘what?’

She started typing, and as the speech bubble floated in the corner of his screen, Matt palmed at the bulge in his sweats. His mind raced with thoughts, all wondering what she could have possibly been thinking about. Fuck, does she think about doing things with me? Does she want to tease me? How would she even-

The speech bubble disappeared. Matt slipped his hand under the waistband of his sweatpants and his boxers, taking his hard cock in his fist. He stroked his shaft slowly, his eyes fluttering shut while he pursed his lips to hold back a moan. He waited for her response to pop up. One minute…then two…then five. He furrowed his eyebrows, his strokes slowly coming to a stop as he eyed their text messages. Why isn’t she responding? Did I make her uncomfortable? Is she weirded out?

His heart nearly dropped out of his ass when the facetime notification illuminated his screen. Without thinking to take his hand out of his pants, Matt quickly answered the call.

It took a moment for the call to connect, but when it finally did, Matt felt almost frozen in place. His heart skipped a beat, his face grew flushed with a warm rosy heat. She smiled at him and his breath caught in his throat.

“Hey!”

Matt smiled. “Hey, what’s up.”

“What, I can’t call my best friend out of the blue just to hang out?” She laughed softly. “What are you up to?” She asked.

“Just, yknow…” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders a bit. “Was playing fortnite for a bit-“

She tilted her head to the side a little, furrowing her eyebrows. “I didn’t see you online. I would’ve joined you if I knew,” she grinned. “Can’t believe you played without me,” she playfully rolled her eyes.

Matt swallowed. Her eyes looked so pretty rolled back into her head like that, I could watch her do that for hours. Matt slowly stroked his cock, pursing his lips tightly to keep himself quiet. ‘Can’t believe you played without me’ replayed in his head like a broken record. His mind wandered off, thinking about the beautiful girl on his screen sitting on his bed. Her clothes discarded onto the floor mindlessly, seated on his bare thighs. Matt bit the inside of his cheek, pre-cum drooling from the tip of his cock as he imagined her pretty manicured fingers circling her clit, her eyes hooded and full of lust as lewd sounds spilled from her parted lips. His dick ached at the thought of her running her fingers through her wet folds, playing with herself in front of him, on full display just for him. ‘Can’t believe you played without me,’ her voice repeated in his head again, his mouth going dry as he thought of her looking at him with a pout while saying this, her pretty doe eyes staring at him with nothing but desire hidden behind their gaze.

He kept his strokes slow and controlled. This is so fucking wrong, he thought. If she knew…he couldn’t even think of the possibilities. She’d be disgusted, she’d be so upset. Matt would never be able to show his face in a public setting again.

“How was your day?” Matt asked in a soft voice, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his own voice would betray him. He watched as the smile on her face grew and he felt his heart twinge. This is so wrong. What the fuck is wrong with me.

“Aww Matty, you do care!” She teased. Matt let out a breathy chuckle, hoping she couldn’t hear the rasp in his voice. She began to list off the many side quests she endured on her day off from work, and Matt listened to every single thing she had to say. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke to him. Her lips are so pretty. Fuck, I wanna kiss her so bad. I wanna feel her lips on mine. She’d look so fucking pretty with my dick in her mouth. I wonder how much she’d be able to take. Would I have to fuck her throat to make it all fit? Would she drool on my cock while I fuck her pretty mouth?

“Matt?”

He tugged at his cock, letting out a soft exhale when he heard her voice. Please say my name again. Say my name again. It sounds so pretty coming from you, I’ve never liked my name more than when it’s being said by you. His mind wandered off once more. What positions does she like? Would she prefer missionary? She’d look so pretty under me while I fuck her, her tits would bounce so nicely with every thrust I make. Or would she want something more intense? Would she want me to take her from behind? Would she want to be in charge? What turns her on? Does she wear lingerie?

“Matt…?”

Matt grunted softly under his breath, the speed of his strokes increasing just barely enough to tell. He focused his attention back on the call. “H-Huh?”

“I asked what you did today,” she repeated. “Did you have a good day?”

It took a moment for her words to register in his brain, his mind foggy with lust and desire, his cock dripping with arousal. He gave his shaft a gentle squeeze, a low growl forming at the back of his throat. “It’s much better now,” he admitted, earning a giggle from her in return. He smiled. He loved being able to make her laugh. It was something that most people couldn’t do, but Matt did it so effortlessly. He took pride in it; even his brothers couldn’t make her laugh nearly as easily as Matt could. “Didn’t do much, just-“ he stopped, trying to think of something to say other than ‘i sat around beating off to your pictures all day’. He cleared his throat, a moan threatening to escape as the warmth in the pit of his tummy grew. “Just stayed in bed all day.”

She rolled her eyes again, and Matt felt his balls grow heavy with arousal, his thumb rubbing at his tip with each slow stroke he made. Matt’s lips parted; he wanted to moan so bad. He wanted her to see what she does to him. He wanted her to know just how badly he wanted her. His eyes became glossy as he lost himself in a daze, staring at her through the screen.

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

Matt nodded, still not taking his hand out of his pants. This is so fucking wrong. Why am I doing this? I’m risking our entire friendship. “Hey, I uh- I gotta go,” Matt stated abruptly. He didn’t want to go. He never wanted to go a minute without her, but if he didn’t leave the call soon, he’d end up in a world of trouble for sure.

“Oh…okay, well call me ba-“

Click.

Matt dropped his phone down onto his desk and leaned back in his desk chair, his shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead as a thin layer of sweat began to form at his brow. He pushed his sweats and boxers down just enough to free his cock, a moan escaping him. He tugged the bottom of his sweatshirt and t-shirt up so as to not ruin it, a ritual that had become engraved into his brain from the regular reoccurrence of it. He grunted softly, tugging at his shaft desperately, his eyes screwing shut.

I need her. I need to have her, all of her. I need to feel her and taste her. I want to be between her legs, I want to taste how sweet she is, I want to watch her fall apart from just my tongue. I want to feel her squirm and run her fingers through my hair. I want to hear her whine and beg for more. Matt fisted at his cock, his strokes much faster than before. His breathing was uneven and heavy, almost panting like an animal. He needed her, he hungered for her, he craved her. Something about it was so primal. Every time he saw her or heard her, he had a full body reaction, one that he couldn’t control even if he wanted to.

Although, he really didn’t want to.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. As if on cue, his phone vibrated on his desk. His eyes fluttered open, a lustful dazed look glazing over his irises. He picked up his phone, a notification from snapchat flashing on his screen. Never ceasing his strokes, Matt opened the app and clicked on the new snap from her. His jaw went slack, pumping his cock in his fist even faster than before. He stared at her photo for much longer than he should have, but how could he not? She had her head tilted a bit, a confused look on her face with the words ‘not even a goodbye? so mean, matty’ printed across the photo.

“Fuck me,” he whimpered. She looks so cute when she’s confused. Fuck, the things I would do to paint her face with my cum while she looks at me like that…I’d probably get put on the FBI watchlist. He knew he needed to reply back soon, not wanting her to assume he was ignoring her. He just couldn’t bring himself to tap out of the photo. His cock ached, the desire building up inside of him. “Fuck, p-please,” he breathed out. Matt threw his head back, his strokes getting impossibly faster with each passing moment. Pre-cum oozed from his tip, his fist slick with his arousal.

Another snapchat notification from her came through and Matt inhaled sharply, tapping out of the photo and clicking on the new one. Matt choked out a whine, the muscles in his bicep tightening as he began to reach his high. “Fuck-“ he grunted. His breath caught in his throat as his mind went blank, pleasure coursing through his veins. It was like a drug to him. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling; It didn’t take long for him to get addicted to it, and soon enough once a day turned into twice a day, which turned into three times a day, which turned into too many fucking times to count.

He groaned, a string of vowels passing his lips, his jaw hanging low as he watched his cum spurt from his tip. He breathed in short heavy pants, slowing his strokes to ride out his orgasm. Five ribbons of white hot cum painted his lower stomach. His dick throbbed from the intensity of his orgasm and his body shivered as he slowly came down from his high.

It took a handful of minutes for Matt to realign his senses. His chest rose and fell with even breaths, his dick rested in the puddle of cum on his abdomen. He looked at his hand, his mess coating his fingers and his palm. I wonder if she’d lick my hand clean. Would she suck on my fingers? Would she look up at me with her infamous puppy dog eyes while she does it?

His eyes darted back to his phone, his heart racing as he quickly remembered that he still hadn’t replied to her. He groaned softly upon seeing her pretty face on his screen, her previous snap still on full display for him. He took another moment to admire her before tapping out of the photo. Matt quickly fixed his hair with his clean hand, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm. He picked his phone back up and quickly snapped a photo of himself. He typed a response before sending it to her.

'Relax I'm here.'

'You costed me my battle royale.'

Matt waited for a response, not caring about the mess that still hadn’t been attended to. The nerves in his brain lit up like a Christmas tree as she opened his snap, the endorphins filling him with dopamine as she sent back another photo. He was quick to open it, not caring if she caught on to his eagerness.

'lol you're stupid. call me back when you're done :)'

He tucked his cock back into his boxers, pulling them back up along with his sweats. He stood up, holding the bottom seam of his shirt up, quickly making his way to the bathroom to clean himself up. He peeked out into the hallway, making sure Nick and Chris weren’t anywhere near before slipping into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Matt cringed at the sticky feeling on his hand, quickly turning on the faucet at the sink, running his hand under the water to rinse most of his mess down the drain. He dried his hand, then grabbed a handful of tissues, cleaning up the rest of his cum before discarding the used tissues into the waste bin. He let his shirt fall down to cover his torso, his eyes landing on his reflection in the mirror. His gaze darted away, disgusted with what he saw.

You’re a terrible friend. If she ever found out, you’d be lucky to not have a restraining order against you. What the fuck is wrong with you. How can you even call yourself her best friend. You don’t deserve her.

He left the bathroom in a hurry, slipping back into his room, gently kicking the door shut behind him. He sat back down at his desk, picking up his phone once again.

Without a second thought, he opened his facetime app, clicking on her contact. The phone only rang twice before she answered, her pretty face illuminating the screen after the call connected. Matt offered her a warm smile, propping his phone up on his desk. “Sorry I hung up on you before,” he mumbled softly, scratching the back of his neck as his gaze landed on her. He picked his headset up off of his desk, holding it for her to see. “Wanna run duos with me?”

𝔄𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯'𝔰 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: omg guys, what do we think is gonna happen?

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔰:

[wizkiddx]

how do you do it?

oops so I may have had a new adhd ultrafixation and switched up to f1 the past year or so... so i might be back but i don't write holland/ marvel stuff anymore. here's a little fluffy drabble of Pierre gasly - but pls do not think he's my fave driver hehe that u gotta guess...

reader x pierregasly

Looking after Pierre's [fictional] nephew for an evening or two may just impact your life forever.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Pierre loved you. He loved you like he hadn't loved anyone ever before. It felt different. Like everything had perfectly fit into place. 

Which is why, on his summer break, he wanted to be surrounded by all the people he loved completely. His parents; his sister and her husband and child; his grandparents and you. He rarely got time off, so when he did he was determined to focus on what mattered. And nothing mattered more than family. 

Or so he thought… until his sister saw the family trip away as a great opportunity for child care. Apparently she and her husband had ‘accidentally’ booked a romantic week away for the two of them just the same week. And just assumed that the family would babysit little Mateo. 

Pierre really should be disappointed in her - except he didn’t really mind. He absolutely loved little Matt and spending some quality time with him so closely - well Pierre didnt mind one bit.

Also his brother in law annoyed him incredibly - so he would not be missed. 

After Matteo was dropped off, the whole of Pierres family happily shared responsibility of the little boy. Pierre’s dad was in charge of dinner and his mum, Pacale, then set about getting Teo settled for the night.  but in fact, Y/n had made such an impression on the young tot that Teo asked her to read him the bedtime story that night. Pierre went to say goodnight, but stopped himself at the doorway, leaning on the frame. Teo was cuddled right into Y/n’s side as she read the cartoony book. 

/////////////////////

Y/n awoke to her shoulder being nudged repeatedly, groaning as she tried to shrug it off - to no avail. The room was dark, lit only by a creak of light coming from the door… that she was sure had been shut when they went to bed. Her thoughts were sow as she blinked her eyes awake, trying to shake off the sleepy fog. And then she saw the dark silhouette standing right nect to her. In shock, she jolted upright, blinking rapidly to focus on the figure infront of her. It quickly became apparent she had no need to be scared, the intruder was tiny and with the same button nose as a little person she’d made friends with. 

“-teo?” Croaking, her eyebrows knitted together as she moved to lean up on her side - whilst doing as little to disturb Pierres arm that was still flung round your middle. “Could you not sleep?” He shook his head violently in response, before letting out a small sniffle. 

“had a-had a bad dream.” He pouted, his glassey eyes boring holes into your soul, even in the dim light from the hallway. 

“Oh Mattie” Y/n sighed sadly, sitting p so she could properly wrap her arms round the boy to pick him up onto her lap. Mateo instantly clung tightly to her body, his little legs and arms wrapped round her chest, face nuzzled into the crook of her neck. Not sure what to do, Y/n just held him close and softly ra her fingers through the little baby curls at the bottom of his scalp. “You wanna talk about it?” She whispered, and was answered with an indignant shake off his head against her chest. “Well I’m glad you woke me up Teo, this is what me and Uncle Pierre are here for.” He sniffled slightly, before arching back, sitting up on your middle and looking down at you and then at Pierre who was still softly snoring next to you. 

“Why aren’t you aunty Y/n? Why just Y/n?” 

Kids always had this ability to surprise. And you had exactly zero idea how to answer that. 

“Well kiddo, because your so special we have to earn the titles autny and uncle. Uncle Pierres known you since you were a baby! I’ve not known you that long so I’m not officially an aunty.” He crinkled his eyes, and appeared to look up at the dark ceiling as if in thought. 

“Who gives you the name aunty then?” This felt like a trick.

“ummm… your mummy and daddy and Uncle Pierre too. They’re in charge.” 

“If I was incharge I’d call you aunty Y/n.” Teo whispered for the frist time that evening, as if this was the secret part. Not the fact you were desperately trying to not let him disturb your slumbering boyfriend. He was still shattered from the first half of the season. He needed all the rest he could get. 

“Awh Teo!” You pouted and pulled him in for another hug. “That is why your so cool!” He giggled as you lightly tickled his top. “You ready to try and go back to sleep again?”

Suddenly he looked all shy, hiding his face behind his eyes. 

“When I have a bad dream at home…mummy and daddy let me.. let me sleep with them.” The cogs turned for a little bit, brain still addled by sleep, before you realised what he meant. 

“Oh! Do you want to sleep with me and Pierre?” He nodded shyly again, and you had to hide a little grin at his cuteness. “You know when I get bad dreams, your uncle Pierre holds me tight and protects me from them. Like my hero. Do you think he could be your hero?” You knew the little kid had a fascination with superheros, already owning batman tshirts galore. Superheros wer basically his second language. 

Instead of answering, Matteo just climbed off of you and into the middle of the bed, the space between you and Pierre. It took some adjustment, in fact Pierre huffed and squirmed in his sleep at the disruption, but Matteo ended up snugly under the covers, you mirroring Pierre on your side facing him. 

“Okay kiddo, now give uncle Pierre a big hug ‘kay?” He nodded as you pulled Pierres slightly limp arm round his littlle body, making sure it wasn’t squashing the little kid. Instinctively, used to wrapping his arms round you, Pierre squeezed his little nephew, before relaxing and sagging back into a deep sleep. 

“Night Aunty Y/n” Teo whispered, almost bringing a tear to yoru eye as you saw his little eyes poking out from Pierres arm to look at you. Of course he had said that. It practically made your heart melt. 

“Night night little one, sweet dreams.” 

/////////

It was Pierre who was roused from sleep first in the morning. The soft french light streamed through the little inlets in the blind, giving the whole room a cosy and warm bath of light. Letting out a long sigh, he blinked his eyes open a couple times, enjoying the non-urgency of the morning which he so rarely got during the season. He muffled a wuiet cough, not wanting to disturb Y/n, before properly focusing on his left. Because it wasn’t just his girlfriend. Apparently somebody else had wormed there way into the bed last night. 

Both were still slumbering away but a little brunette figure had stolen Pierres normal spot. Matteo was nestled up in the crook of Y/n’s neck his little palm resting up under her ear. 

Pierre had never ever felt love that strong than in that exact moment. 

After a few minutes just watching the two taking deep breaths, Pierre decided he needed to save this moment forever. As quietly as he could he leaned over the two to the bedside table, where his phone was. Apparently he failed miserably, as he had barely drawn the caemra before Y/n huffed, eyebrows furrowed together, as she blinked against the soft light of the room. She only scowled more when she noticed the camera in her face - before softening as soon as she realised the little boy pressed against her chest. Just this once she might forgive Pierre. Soon he too relaxed back down in the bed, and the couple shared the a silent but incredibly intimate moment, basking in there feelings for one another. 

Pierre was so glad he had this time this summer. The fact he could spend the morning in bed waiting for the kid to wakeup. He didn’t have a gym session to go to, a meeting or a pr thing. He could be in the moment, daydreaming of his future, with his beautiful girlfriend and his beautiful nephew. 

Later that morning, Pascale and Pierre where sat on the porch with a black coffee each, watching Teo madly chase Y/n and Jean round the expansive green garden. 

“I heard it was musical beds last night?” Pascale interrupted the comfortable silence between the mother and son, which had before only been interrupted by Teos distant giggles.

“Hmmm apparantly so, though I slept through the whole thing.”

“You do need sleep my boy, Y/n was only following my express orders.”

“Mama” Pierre chuckled whilst shaking his head, his mother forever being incredibly overprotective. “Teo asked me this morning if I could allow him to call Y/n aunty.” 

“Pourquoi?” Pascale questioned, switching back to her natural tongue. The whole Gasly family made a special effort to speaj English when Y/n was around - not wanting her to feel left out. 

“He was asking her last night. This morning he sat me down to have an ‘important conversation’. he said Y/n earned the name aunty Y/n.” Pascale laughed, putting down the coffee cup on the table. 

“That boy is older than his years.” Pierre nodded, and Pascale finally chose to ask the question. “You think maybe one day she will be?… you know, officially an auntie… a Gasly?” Pierre kept his eyes down on the garden, on the way Y/n spun Teo round when he ‘caught her’. But pascale didn’t miss the playful smile that grew on the corner of his mouth. 

“How do you do it maman?” Pascale acted innocent, only shrugging and asking what. Even if she knew exactly what. “You knew I was thinking of that.” 

“Maybe” Pascales smugness made Pierre scoff, before carrying on. 

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while… but this morning, waking up with her and Teo. I want that life with her. I want her to be the mother of my children. I think that shes the one. “

For the first time Pierre turned to properly look at his mum. And her extreme grin half made Pierre take back everything he said. Except he didn’t. 

“You know my boy, we’ve all been waiting for you to realise for months. Not just Teo.” 

“Seriously?” 

“I love her. So does you dad and your brothers and sisters. So do all the kids. So do all your friends. And most importantly she has Teos complete seal of approval.” Pierre followed his mothers gesture straight ahead, till his eyes saw Teo and Y/n both sprinting towards the two of them, both of in fits of laughter. 

“What are you two crazies doing?” Leaving Pierre in a slight state of shock, Pascale pretended as if nothing had just happened, engaging with the two in front of her. 

“Y/n kept catching me! I was Ironman and she was Antman but she beat me!” 

“I thought yuou told me Iron Man was the best hero.” Pascale questioned, while the little boy clambered up onto her side. 

“No. Not anymore. Y/n is my favourite hero.” 

“I’m not a hero Teo. I’m just Y/n.”

“No you said to me Uncle Pierre is your hero. And you protected me from bad dreams last night. You’re my hero.” 

Y/n and Pascale just laughed at how the boys brain worked. The innocence of kids was just unbelievable. But Pierre didn’t, still reeling from the conversation with his mother. He sat with slightly glassy eyes, watching the two important women in his life with the cutest little boy ever. As Pascale excused her and Teo to get breakfast, Y/n looked over to her boyfriend, instantly her face dropping with worry. 

“Hey, whats going on?” She instantly sat next to him on the outdoor couch, arms wrapping round his back. “Talk to me Pear.” He wasn’t even crying but, Y/n knew him like the back of her hand, she knew the little glimmer in his eye which wasn’t normal. Letting out a breathy chuckle, Pierre leaned closer to her, allowing Y/n to lift his chin up to meet her eyes. 

“I’m just really happy.” He smiled, watching how her eyebrows furrowed slightly, eyes searching his for an answer. “Here with all the most important people. I’m happy.” 

Her eyes softened, the worry instantaneously flowing away, as a little smile tugged at her lips. 

“You really are going soft on me aren’t you? Oh wait - you’ve always been like that.” She teased, relaxing back into his chest a little as Pierre weaved his fingers through hers. 

“Only for you cherie… you think one day we coulod have our own little Teo running round?” Pierre noticed the way the breathing seemed to hit pause after he asked the question, as if he’d maybe said the wrong thing. But then she looked up at him, with the softest eyes and whispered. “I am ready whenever you are.”

She was in this deep too. Here for the long run.

With the biggest smile, Pierre pulled her lips against his, cradling her head in both his hands. It wasn’t rushed or heated, instead a calmness that emanated for the both of them. Because neither was worried. After a few moments, they pulled apart, Y/n settling leant against his body, her head resting on his shoulder as thye looked out at the beautiful view from the garden of the rented home. And thats when Pierre knew. He knew what he needed to o next. And suddenly he wanted to go to the ring shop right then because he simply couldn’t wait. 

“I got a few things I need to do first… but we will be a family soon cherie. I promise.”

lmk what u think and if i should keep writing f1 themed stuff!!! <3

[the1975attheirverybest]

So I’ve seen a lot of people online talking about Taylor’s song “Question…?” And how it might be about Matty. I even saw that one person said it was on The 1975’s pre-show playlist (like how About You is on hers), do you know if that’s true? I can’t find their pre show playlist anywhere.

I (like most people) assumed Question…? Was about Harry Styles… but honestly it could be Matty. Or it could be both. Taylor has confessed before to writing songs that contain pieces from different relationships that had a common theme (for example Coney Island is basically a huge mashup song with references to a ton of her past relationships and songs).

What do you think? Do you think Question…? Fits Matty at all? Either way it’s been one of my favorites from Midnights and I think it’s super underrated.

- 🔆

Oh, wow. I never thought of it as being about either Harry or Matty, actually. I’m one of those idiots who think that it’s about Selena and Justin. But it could be about Matty! Like, if there was always that kind of tension between them from when they first met and maybe they wanted to act on it but they didn’t, then yeah for sure. Only thing is I’m trying to thing which “crowded room” she’s referring to in the song and who the friends who clapped are. Of course, that bit could be fictionalized.

Like maybe the theme/feeling is about Matty but she made the plot up? Or like you said, both Harry AND Matty. She does have a tendency to revisit the idea of the “what could’ve been” or “the one that got away” and maybe there’s a reason for that hahaha.

[peeterparkr]

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay���yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

-

next chapter

want to be tagged?(please say it's for red)

tag list and some friends: @noorrussell @nocturnalms @xxconfettiitsaparade @annathesillyfriend @butterflies-glitter @tomkindholland @the-salty-asian @words-to-accomplish-something @harryhollandsgirlfriend @bibliophilewednesday @tomhollandsbitch8 @boiolay @wizkiddx @spideyssunshine @parkertommy @erodasghosts @onewithnomightypowers @sunflowersandaydreams @tomshufflepuff @uglypastels @lilacsandwhiskey @badhollandfluff @saintlavrents @enilemes @white-wolf1940 @mannien @softholand @youcompletemesk @ughdangs@obiwanownsmyass @sleepingdancer @lonely-sag @n-pg-pw @readheadwriter @parkersroses @petesrparker

[sorryjustafangirl]

it’s not that bad (or 4 times you embarrassed yourself in front of him + one time he embarrassed himself in front of you)

a/n: in honour of matty’s 100th career goal tonight i thought i’d drop this now! i really loved this idea (love me a good 4+1) and i tried to make it a gender neutral insert again. hope y’all like it :)

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x reader

Work count: 4.8k (longest thing i’ve written yet!)

warnings: swearing, alcohol, second-hand embarrassment perhaps. small reference to sex and i think that’s it

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and real person fiction if you don’t like that, please don’t read! also the gif isn’t mine! all credit to the super talented gif-maker! 

i. 

You were late, again. You’d think by your twenties, you would have figured out how to be on time for some event, any event. But no. So here you were, twenty minutes late to a “small get-together” your friend had invited you to. But unless she changed from college, you knew it really meant it was going to be a crowded apartment with at least one beer pong tournament.

You reached the address Sarah gave you and let yourself in. Immediately, a drink was pushed into your hand from someone and you tried to make your way towards the kitchen. You quickly found Sarah and gave her a hug. 

“Who are all these people?” You took a drink of your drink, surveying the room. 

“Well, you know I’ve been hanging with Noah right? It just so happened...he’s Noah Hanifin of the Flames and like half his teammates are here. And there’s some plus-ones too maybe, I don’t know everyone, but you know how it is,” She bumped her shoulder against yours. “Go! Go mingle, find someone.” She gave you a wink before leaving the kitchen herself. 

You sighed, before leaving the kitchen to go “mingle”. You had only been in the loud and stuffy living room for a half hour before you needed a break and you made your way to the balcony. Only you mistook how high the sliding door grooves and slightly tripped over your own feet, making a ruckus as you tried to remain on your feet. 

A loud laugh brought you out of your thoughts and you look to your right to see a couple of guys, one of which was staring at you and laughing. You grimaced and tried to ignore the heat and tightness in your chest, making your way to the other side of the balcony. The cool breeze only did a little to chill your cheeks and you weren’t sure how long you were outside before Sarah came out, yelling your name. 

“Babes! C’mon, it’s beer pong time and we’re partners,” You slowly made your way over to her, being extra careful of the grooves this time. 

“No, I’m going to go, I’ve already made a fool of myself in front of some cute boys and my horrible pong skills will not help redeem me,” Sarah simply laughed and started to drag you towards the table. You let go of her hand, but followed her towards the living room. You took a risk by taking a sip of your drink while walking but you figured Sarah was clearing the way, so why not get a drink in before you were drinking your bodyweight in pong? 

You had almost made it to the table when a body crashed into yours, your drink being spilled down your front. You quickly stepped away from whoever bumped into you, the heat coming back to your cheeks as the liquid started to seep through your white shirt. You forced down a gulp and thrust your, now empty, drink into Sarah’s hands. Her face was shocked but you waved her away before she could tell you any sort of sympathy. 

You made your way towards the closest door you could find, hoping for a bedroom where you could find a spare shirt to replace your soaked one. You pushed through the crowd, the same tightness in your chest from when you tripped. You opened a door to thankfully find an empty bedroom, and wasted no time finding the dresser for a spare shirt. Sarah said she’s seeming some NHL dude so he can definitely afford to miss a random shirt. You stripped yourself from your now sticky shirt. You had started to put on the new shirt when the door opened. You spun around to see a tall figure trying to enter and you rushed to cover your top half. 

“Occupied!” The figure instantly closed their eyes and backed away from the doorway, slamming the door behind them. You clothed yourself and grabbed your sopping shirt and swung open the door.

“What exactly do you need?” You demanded the figure. You were met with a mess of blonde curls and a pair of blue eyes. He was the cute boy who laughed at your balcony trip.

“I was actually looking for that…” He points to the shirt you were now wearing. “But I think you maybe need it a little more than me,” You felt your face grow hot again and you grimaced.  “You’re the one who tripped on the balcony right? Yeah you are, I’m Matthew.” 

“You’re the guy who laughed at me. I’m Y/N.” You tried to make your way out of the room but he was quick to block you. 

“I’m sorry, you know, for laughing at you. I’ll let you keep the shirt?” You gave a brief chuckle at his proposition and ducked under his arm, making your way back to the party. 

“I was going to keep the shirt anyway, you’re a big hockey hotshot, you can afford a new shirt,”

“Well, hang on, I liked that shirt! I can’t just get a new one!” He called after you. 

“You were just going to let me keep the shirt,” You turned around to face him and crossed your arms.

“It’s different now,” You rolled your eyes at his childish behaviour. 

“Would you like me to give it back to you when I’m done wearing it? Would that make Mr. Hockey Hotshot happy?” Your face morphed into a faux pout whereas his broke out into a smile. 

“Yes, it would actually. Drop it off later, will you?” He patted your shoulder before passing you and made his way back to the party. You scoffed at his action, but nevertheless made an inner promise to give the shirt back to the blond menace, before rejoining the party yourself. 

ii.

You gave the shirt back to Matthew sometime later that week, and somehow he was willing to overcome your initial first impressions, seeing as you were currently celebrating at a bar after a Flames win. Well, he was celebrating. You were moping. Just so happened that your partner decided to send a break-up text at the same time Matt scored the game winning goal. So yeah, he was celebrating and you were moping. 

You sat in the booth alone, watching over everyone’s drinks as they got out on the dance floor. It was a poor excuse, and they all knew it, but chose not to call you out on it. Matthew came back over with a grin on his face. He plopped himself next to you and swung an arm over your shoulders. 

“Why are you sitting here all alone when we should be celebrating?” You fiddled with the rim of your glass before sighing. 

“Alex broke up with me.” 

“And?” You whipped your face to look at him, and all he gave was a look of indifference.

“And what? I don’t feel like celebrating when I just got dumped, Matthew.” You said his name like it was venom and took a gulp of your drink. 

“Well, they were an asshole anyway. They don’t deserve your sadness.” You gave him a small smile before he got up out of the booth and extended his hand to you. “C’mon, let’s go. We’re going to drink and forget about them, ‘kay?” You took his hand and he all but dragged you to the bar, instantly ordering two shots of vodka, setting both in front of you. 

“Are you not drinking any?” You asked him. 

“Nah, you gotta get hammered and I’m pretty sure I’m the most sober guy here. Someone’s got to be able to order an Uber. Now, drink. Forget the asshole,” He drummed his fingers on the bar in faux-impatience. 

“Are you sure? You guys had a big win…” 

“Y/N, I’m sure. Now, take the damn shots please.” You complied, taking the shots in succession. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” He exclaimed, before waving the bartender over once again. 

***

It was three shots later when you started to spill your guts. You had already lost your jacket and broke out some bad dance moves, so spilling secrets was ultimately next. You weren’t consciously meaning to, but the alcohol in your blood and the empty table with Matthew was the perfect opportunity. 

“I never really liked Alex but I liked not being alone. It was nice not being alone,” Your voice was a little slurred but Matthew heard you. 

“You aren’t alone, you’ve got me.”

“But it’s not the same!” you whined. “What if no one likes me again? I’m not that pretty,” 

“Y/N, a bunch of guys will like you and you’re pretty, okay? What’s not to like anyways?”

You gave him a pointed look. “You’re just saying that because we’re friends.” You took a gulp of your drink. 

“I’m not just saying that because we’re friends. You are beautiful, and any guy would be lucky to date you.” You couldn’t answer him without getting choked up so you opted to rest your head on his shoulder. “Is it time to go home?” 

“Do you really think I’m pretty?” Your voice broke half way through the sentence and Matthew instantly turned towards you. He wiped the few tears that had fallen and pried your hand off of your glass. 

“I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight, babes. It’s time to go home, let’s go,” He got out of the booth and held his hand out for you to grab. When you continued to sit in the booth, he gave you a small pout and reached over to grab your hands. 

“Do you really think I’m pretty?” you asked once more, latching onto his hands. He chuckled, tugged you out of the booth, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. 

“Yes, I do. And I’ll tell you everyday for the rest of my life if you need to hear it. But right now, you’re completely trashed and we need to go home before you crash,” You slowly nodded against his side and you both started to walk out of the bar, Matthew waving at the bartender to put it on his card. The two of you managed to make it out of the bar with almost no issues (walking when the room is spinning is hard okay?) and were now waiting for the Uber Matthew ordered. You nuzzled into his side and he rubbed your back to keep it warm from the brisk Alberta breeze. 

“‘m sorry I ruined your night,” you said softly, your eyes closed. You felt Matthew chuckle under your head. 

“It’s okay, you didn’t ruin it,”

“But you’re supposed to be celebrating your win and getting laid,” your words were dragged out at the end, and you nuzzled more into his side. He laughed once more, this time louder. 

“I can get laid tomorrow, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” You felt his shift away from you and tried to follow him as best you could with your eyes closed. “Hey, I just got to check if this is our car, sit tight okay?” You could’ve nodded but at this point the world was spinning and you weren’t even sure if you did nod. 

“Okay, Y/N, c’mon let’s go,” You nodded your head, prying your eyes open, and willing yourself to try to make it the 10 feet to the car. One foot in front of the other, let’s go. 

You blacked out. 

**

You woke up with a pounding headache and fumbled for your phone on your side table. Instead you found a scrap piece of paper. You squirted to make it out, only to find a chicken scratched note.

Had an early practice. There’s Advil and water ready in the kitchen (didn’t think you’d be coordinated enough not to knock it over in your bedroom). Have a good hangover you were wasted :) Matt 

You groaned and reached for your phone, which was further in on the table. 

Please tell me I didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, you typed. His response came quickly. 

You face planted on the concrete in front of our cab

Well shit sorry

Don’t be, it’s just blackmail for the future :)

You were sure your neighbours heard your groan of embarrassment. 

iii.  

Matthew checked his phone after he exited the arena. It was habit, a bad habit to just check it after two hours, but a habit nonetheless. 

Y/N - Missed Calls (5) 

(3) New Voicemails

(10) New Messages from Y/N

His heart dropped and he opened the messages first, as they were the most recent.

Matt please answer your phone

Please please please

I need your help

Seriously I need your help

Matthew please

Matty? 

Chucky?

I’m serious this is an emergency

SOS

Shit sorry I forgot you had practice but please come over as soon as you see this!!

He doesn’t remember leaving the arena or getting into his car. He doesn’t remember the drive but he knows he must’ve been gripping the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to hurt. But he does remember the odd way his heart doesn’t seem to have moved from his stomach since he got your texts. 

He ends up at your door, fumbling with his key before quickly entering it in the slot and pushing open the door. 

“Y/N?”

“Matty! Oh my gosh, hurry up!” He rushed into the kitchen, to see you standing on the counter next to the fridge. He would’ve made a comment about your, well his really, scrappy Flames shirt and pair of sleep shorts if it wasn’t for the look of absolute fear on your face. 

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

You pointed towards the island, whimpering. “Please get rid of it,” He followed your finger to the island. 

“You’ve got be fucking kidding me,” 

It was a spider, probably no bigger than a dime, sitting around on your island counter. He looked back to you, and laughed. 

“Don’t laugh at me! Matty, I’m serious. Can you please just kill it?” 

“You told me this was an emergency!

“It is! Oh my god, it moved! Just -- Just please please get rid of it!” You shrieked, shrinking more into the counter. He just laughed as grabbed a glass and placed it over top of the demon spider. He then grabbed a piece of paper, slid it under the glass, and took it to the bathroom. When you heard the toilet flush, you slowly pry yourself off of the counter. 

“How are you scared of that? It was tiny!” Matthew re-entered the kitchen. 

“I don’t know, it was a spider!” 

“You know, it was probably more scared of you than you were of it,” He smirked. 

“That’s bull. That thing was the devil reincarnated. I just--” You visibly shuddered and Matthew just laughed again, the big belly laugh that resonated in your stomach. You ignored the butterflies that fluttered and snapped at him. 

“That’s my biggest fear, you know? It’s stupid I know, but you don’t have to rub it in that I overreacted.” You went to sit on your couch, him following suit. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean it. We’re all scared of different things.” He placed his hand over your own and gave you a gentle smile. “You just, you seriously almost gave me a heart attack with all the texts you sent. So maybe, next time, we can just tell me it’s a spider? Unless you want to give me a heart attack, and in that case no one would come kill your spiders…” You softly bumped his shoulders with your own, a smile on your face. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you it’s a spider next time. Thanks for killing it Matty,” He opened his arms for a snuggle and you easily complied, tucking yourself into his side. “Do you think we could just… keep this between us maybe? It is embarrassing the more I think about it.” 

“I don’t think so, Johnny and Marky saw me, like, run out of the arena.” You groaned, hiding your face in the chook of his neck. 

“I really don’t need the team to have more embarrassing stories about me,” He just responded with a chuckle and a brief kiss to your hairline that made your stomach flutter. You felt your cheeks heat up; at least he can’t see the effect he has on you when you’re buried in his chest. 

iv. 

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Taryn yelled, and nearly knocked you off your feet with a hug. You laughed and were swift to hug back, placing your bag on the driveway. You had come to visit Matthew in St. Louis at his request. It was a couple weeks after the Flames had been kicked out of the playoffs, enough for him to get back in his meddlesome groove. The soft Matthew you saw in your apartment was a one-time thing; it had to be.  

“They’re my best friend, you know,” mumbled Matthew, coming up behind Taryn to give her a noogie. “They came to see me, not you.” Breaking away from the youngest Tkachuk, you gave him a hug. 

“That’s just what I want you to think. Maybe I really am here for Taryn,” He laughed into the crook of your neck, before grabbing your bag off the driveway and pulling you towards the house. And yet, only two hours later, came the infamous “I’m bored” from nearly all the siblings. Chantal was quick to shoo the four of you outside, claiming the sunshine would tire you all out. 

“I don’t want to play soccer,” 

“Well, I am not playing any form of hockey with two competitive professional athletes and a pro in the making. We are playing soccer, and you’re going to like it,” You pointed your finger at Matthew but he just shot you a grin before making his way towards the empty field near the house.

“So we playing two-on-two or what?” Brady asked once you got to the field. 

“Yup! And I claim Y/N!” Taryn practically bounced over to you. You laughed at the pout on Matthew’s face and simply shrugged in response. 

30 minutes later, it was tied 2-2 and both teams decided that the next goal would win. You and Taryn had possession, and Matt was acting in net. Brady defended his sister, which gave you the perfect opportunity to have a mini shootout on Matthew. She shot you the ball with a little bit of air, and you kicked it almost as hard as you could into the goal. You thought you hit it straight enough it wasn’t going to go too high, but it seems you must have gotten under the ball a little because it was not close to the ground.

It was exactly 6 feet off the ground and hit Matthew square in the face, knocking him to the ground. 

All three of you gasped, except for Matthew who groaned in pain. A million thoughts were going through your head, mainly Are you okay? and I’m so fucking sorry. Matthew groaned again, and so you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. 

“Are you fucking sorry?” 

You clamped your hand over your mouth as soon as you realized what you actually said. Brady and Taryn instantly burst into equal amounts of shock and downright hilarity. You walk over to Matt and kneel beside him, your face hot from both the game and the embarrassment. 

“Shouldn’t you be the one whose sorry?” He grumbled, leaning on his elbows. 

“I am so sorry! I was trying to say ‘are you okay’ and ‘I’m so fucking sorry’ but then they just got blended together, oh my god, I’m an idiot. Is your face okay?” The genuine concern in your eyes made Matthew crack a small smile. 

“Relax, I’m fine. I’ve taken hits harder than that.” You brushed your fingers lightly over the red mark gracing his cheekbone. 

“You really worried me there, that I messed up your pretty face. I would’ve never lived it down,” His smirk came back, although gentler than normal. 

“So you think my face is pretty?” 

You softly scoffed and broke eye contact with him, choosing to pluck strands of grass instead. “You know your face is pretty. You have girls tell you all the time,” 

“Well, you aren’t any of those girls. You’ve never called me pretty before,” 

“Would you like me to say it again and boost your ego a little more?”

“Y/N…” He brought two fingers under your chin and tilted your head towards his own, his blue eyes striking into yours. “It’s different when it comes from you.” You saw his eyes flick towards your lips before looking back into your eyes, and he leaned in a little before you turned your head and shouted to the other Tkachuks.

“I think I gave him a concussion! He’s not really himself,” You stood up quickly, putting some space between yourself and the situation. Matthew stood up and whacked Brady’s hand away when he asked how many fingers he was holding up. He made his way back towards the house, alone and with a scowl on his face. Taryn wrapped her arm around your shoulder and gave you a knowing look. 

“He’ll be fine, seriously. But ‘‘Are you fucking sorry?” I’m never going to let you live that down! Hands-down the funniest thing that has happened to me this summer,” 

“Glad someone’s having a good time,” you teased, your face still hot from embarrassment. As you watched him walk off towards the house, you couldn’t help the thought that your heart hurt just as much as Matthew’s did. 

+one

You walked into the Giordano’s backyard, the party already in swing. Everyone was catching up after the summer and you saw some unfamiliar faces mixed in as well. Being fashionably late as per usual, you caught up with some of the girls first, not wanting to disturb Matthew’s conversation with Johnny. You made your rounds, knowing you’d be spending most of the evening with Matthew, so it felt only necessary to talk to everyone else first. 

You were having a chat with one of the people you hadn’t met before, Ethan, you think his name was. He was obviously flirting with you, lingering touches and some sweet comments here and there. You weren’t reciprocating but the advances weren’t unwelcome. You hadn’t had a date since Alex, and even some of your friends thought there was no better way to get over your feelings for your best friend than to get another guy. The problem was you didn’t want to get over him. Matthew hadn’t come to talk to you yet so you saw no harm in continuing to talk with Ethan. 

The music in the yard had been turned up and an impromptu dance session had been started. When Ethan asked you to dance, you gracefully accepted. Maybe it was time to get over your feelings. The two of you had been dancing for a while when you felt someone staring at you. You turned your head to see Johnny and Matthew having an...unpleasant conversation. Matthew’s hand was clenched around his drink, and his eyes locked with yours, while Johnny was showing no signs about backing down on whatever they were talking about. You brushed off his stare, continuing to dance with Ethan. You had come for a fun time, the least you could do was try to have one. The song was starting to end, the chords fading into silence, with just enough time for a shout to be heard throughout the whole party.

“Because I love them, okay?!” 

You, and everyone else, turned to see that the source of the sound had been Matthew. His face turned red, much like he’d been playing a game, and he quickly brushed past Johnny and went into the house. 

You muttered a “be right back” to Ethan, quickly following Matthew into the house. It took a little bit of looking but you found him sitting on the stairs to the basement, his head hanging low. Slowly, you creeped down the stairs and sat beside him. 

“Who's the person you love but never told me about?” You nudged his leg with your own to get him to look at you. It didn’t work. 

“It doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it,”

“C’mon tell me, please?” He shook his head and took a swing of his beer. You gave him your best pout, but when that didn’t work, you resorted to annoying you until he burst. Probably not the smartest move, but you told each other everything. 

“Stop poking me,” He mumbled, squirming away from you as much as he could on the stairs.

“Tell me who you love then,” you bargained, relenting for a little. 

“It’s you, okay? Happy?” You were pretty sure your brain stopped working and your mouth fell open. There was no way he loved you the same way you loved him….was there?

“What?”

“It’s you.” He finally looked into your eyes, his piercing blues finding yours with such intensity you had only seen on the ice. You broke away from his stare and opted to pull on a string on your sweater. 

“It can’t be.” He scoffed at your comment.

“And why the fuck not?”

“Because I’m not like them,”

“Like who?”

“Them. The girls who throw themselves at you at games and bars. Girls who have their lives put together and know what they want. Girls like Lauren or Emily or Brittany.” You told him, referring to his teammates’ better halves. “I’m not the kind of person who ends up with you.” 

“You don’t seriously believe that, do you? Y/N, c’mon you’re the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep and the first thing I think about when I wake up. You’ve always made my life better by just being you. I don’t care if you never have your life together or know what you want. I don’t want - I’ve never wanted one of those girls, I want you.” He took your astonished silence as a negative thing and slowly shook his head. “Well that was incredibly sappy and embarrassing.”

“It was, yeah.” He scoffs and takes another sip of his drink.  “But it’s nice to hear, considering I’ve been in love with you since the uh… spider thing.” His head perks up.

“You have? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Matty, I’m not the kind of person who ends up with someone like you. I figured that being your friend was better than you rejecting me so… I just kept it to myself. Besides, you’ve seen me do way too much embarrassing shit to want to be with me,” You laughed at yourself lightly, trying to make this conversation easier. He laughed softly along with you and slowly brushed his fingers against yours. They never tangled, only brushed, as if they were asking permission. You put your hand in his and squeezed. 

“All those things just made me fall in love with you more,” He gave you that soft side smile, the one he rarely brought out (which is why it’s your favourite). 

“Really?” 

“Really,” he squeezed your hand again and you rested your head on his shoulder. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence before you spoke up. 

“What do we do now? Like where do we go from here?” Your voice was quiet, trying to preserve this perfect moment. Matty just chuckled at you and kissed your forehead. 

“Well, I’d love to start by kissing you, if that’s alright.” You lifted your head off his shoulders and untangled your fingers to bring them around his neck. The two of you met in the middle and the kiss wasn’t like anything you’d experience before. It wasn’t fireworks or the feeling of a fire burning in your chest. It was equal amounts familiar and new. It was like a warm blanket on a cold day and the excitement of flying all wrapped into one. 

When the two of you broke for air, he rested his forehead against yours. A smile broke out on his face, infecting one of your own.

“Can we do that again?” you asked him, your eyes looking into his, filled with hope. He didn’t answer verbally, instead choosing to bring his hands to your cheeks before softly pressing his lips to yours. You deepened the kiss, wanting more of him.

“God, please don’t make out on my basement stairs, you aren’t teenagers.” Gio said, breaking the moment, but bringing a smile to all three of your faces. You kissed Matthew quickly one more time, before standing up from the stairs and extending your hand for him to take. 

“We’ll just go make out in my car then,” you told Gio as you passed him on the stairs. Matthew’s booming laugh following you. 

“God, I love you,” Matthew muttered under his breath. You squeezed his hand, and turned around to face him. 

“I love you too Matty.” 

feel free to let me know what you think! thanks for reading

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 21-24

Summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast. friends to lovers, case of the week style story.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

A/N; thee case in c21 is personal to me, like fictional revenge.

word count so far: 70K (chapter 1-25)

chapter 21

Having Spencer all to herself for 3 weeks straight was an experience she’ll never forget. They had the whole month of January off together, painting and re-decorating their home till it was exactly how they wanted it. It felt like home, it was theirs for real now.

Painting the bedroom green was the best idea she’s ever had. When the sun finally woke them up every morning, it wasn’t as blinding. It was paradise. The golden beams of light cast a beautiful glow around the room, it was like she was in a magic forest at the start of every day.

Spencer was laying on his back, his hair scattered on the pillow. He looked so peaceful, sleeping with his mouth wide open. Y/N was leaning on her elbow, looking down at the beautiful man she had the pleasure of spending the rest of her life with.

She brushed the hair off his face, watching his nose scrunch up as he felt her fingertips on his cheek. The sun on his face made him glow, he looked like a gift from god laying before her.

“Good morning baby,” she whispered softly. Dragging her finger along his jaw and down his neck, “we get to go to work today.”

Spencer stretched as he woke up, slipping an arm under her and pulling her into his chest. She held on tight, kissing his neck as she settled in. “Morning,” he replied. Raspy as ever.

“Wanna go get breakfast?” She asked softly.

He laughed against her skin, “gotta feed the baby.”

“And the wiiiife,” she teased.

“Not for another 11 weeks and 2 days,” he corrected her. “But yes, we should go get breakfast,” he whispered after a moment.

“Come on get up,” she replied with a big smile. He patted her ass as she peeled out of his grasp. Sitting up and stretching, taking a look down at the basketball protruding from her stomach. “Damn.”

“What?” Spencer asked.

She stood up beside the bed and pulled her shirt up, showing Spencer how big her stomach was. Turning sideways so he really got a good look at it. Spencer leaned over and kissed her right on her belly button that was beginning to pop.

“I know your ears are on in there, I love you, Matthew,” Spencer whispered against her skin.

She couldn’t stop smiling, taking a moment to rub her hands over the bump in amazement. “Hi Mr. Matty MaGoo, mommy also loves you.”

“Mr. Matty MaGoo?” Spencer laughed, looking at her with the biggest smile.

“Yes,” She laughed. “It just came to me, and it's going to stick.”

“Derek’s been calling him Mini G,” Spencer added.

“We should tell him it's Matthew, then he can be little Matty G,” Y/N swooned. “Seriously let’s go I miss everyone.”

“Okay, okay go get ready then,” he insisted, getting out of bed and dragging her to the bathroom.

—

Spencer drove, giving her a chance to look over her work emails before the day started. She was still CC’d on a bunch of VICAP things, being able to snoop on what was coming in and inspecting it.

Sometimes Mindy would CC her in just for an opinion.

Subject: Found Something. From; Mindy Patel To; SSA Y/N Y/L/N, Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA-CL Jennifer Jareau

There’s been a child abduction in Arizona, I’ve pieced together some thing’s I’ve been working on in the background that might help the case if you are called in to assist. Even if you are not I believe you should take a look at this.

Mindy Patel, VICAP.

Attachment

Year: 1998 Victim 1: Emily Lawrence - 13. Kept till 16. Taken: August 3rd, 1998. Williams, AZ Found: June 10th, 2001. Camp Verde, AZ ME: decay has he placed at 48 hours postmortem when she was found - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2001 Victim 2: Olivia Tomms - 13. Kept till 16 Taken: August 3rd, 2001. Payson, AZ Found: June 23rd, 2004. Florence, AZ ME: decay has her at about 2 weeks postmortem. - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2004 Victim 3: Shelby Summers - 13. Kept till 16. Taken: August 3rd, 2004. Peach Springs, AZ Found: July 16th, 2007. Keams, AZ ME: decay has her at over a month postmortem. - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2007 Victim 4: Beth Green - 11. Kept till 13 Taken: August 3rd, 2007. Saint John, AZ Found: January 13th, 2010. @ flagstaff hospital. ME: COD complications from a miscarriage. Massive blood loss. - well taken care of. Throat damage. Signs of being detained long term. Info:good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped with remorse like he didn’t want her to die, and he felt sorry because he loved her.

Newest abduction: Name: Sally Irvine - 12 Taken: February 3rd, 3pm. Middle School pick-up (missing 13 hours now) Witness Report: Italian/greek man. Early 30’s. Claimed to be her parents assistant. Sally was used to going home with random people from her parents' work. Handsome man, very charming and convincing. He wore a suit and drove a Silver Honda Civic. Rust at the back, partial plate HC8.

“Fuck,” Y/N cried silently as she scrolled through all the information, even in a compact form.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, looking over at her with concern.

“Um,” she didn’t really know why she was reacting like this at first. Then it hit her. “Mindy sent me a case and it’s hitting a little too close to home.”

“Would you like to explain it yet? It’s okay if you want to process it alone,” Spencer comforted her easily like it was his second nature.

She let out a deep breath. “There’s a serial killer in Arizona that is kidnapping girls between 11 and 13, only keeping them 3 years. Every ME report says they have extensive internal throat damage, and 3 of the 4 found were never pregnant. This unsub is forcing them into oral for 3 years straight.”

“Fuck,” Spencer agreed. “I think we should take this one, if you can’t I would fully understand.”

“I think the unsub is my rapist.”

Spencer pulled over onto the side of the road. Putting the car in park and flashing the 4-ways. He turned to her softly and looked at her with a blank face.

“Walk me through it.”

“What?”

“If I’m going to go in there with you and tell Hotch that this is the same guy who hurt you, then you’re going to need to explain it to him and the team,” Spencer explained softly. “You’ve never even told me the full story, I don’t know anything about that summer other than the fact something happened. The first time you repeat this in front of me is going to be hard, and I don’t want you to have to do that in front of all of them.”

She couldn’t help herself from letting out a small sob, “okay.”

She took a few minutes to collect her thoughts, and calm down enough to get full words out of her mouth.

“When I was 12,” she started. “My mom went back to work, and she didn’t trust me to watch my brothers because they were rowdy and never listened to me. Like you said, they were more like my older brothers.

“My dad’s best friend, Jimmy, his wife had MS so she was home all the time. They had 3 older children and a few foster boys, she was used to lots of kids being there. And she had a pool to keep us occupied,” she bit her lip before she explained anymore.

“My mom’s birthday is June 8th. That’s when victim 1 was murdered,” was the first fact she explained that related to the case. She handed Spencer her phone so he could read and follow along.

“My dad is a Mason with the Masonic Lodge in Los Vegas, and he was becoming the master of his division on my mom's birthday that year, so we rented a hall and had a big party. Jimmy’s foster son was there, you remember Christopher Torsey? He was a freshman and I was in grade 6, about to enter grade 7, that was when the grooming started. He took me into the back room and asked if anyone had ever kissed me, I said no. He leaned in and kissed me in the dark and I was a giggly mess.

“My parents and his were really friends and he would come over all the time, our dads would drink in the backyard with our mothers till 1 in the morning most weekends. So I spent long periods of time with this boy for a few years, trusting him like a friend before he started anything. That summer he would always find a way to wander off with me, at first it was just kissing in different places where we could be alone together. Then he would touch my boobs, and he had me take my shirt off a few times.”

Spencer looked calm, but the redness in his face and the pulse in his neck told a different story. Her breathing got heavier as she had to recall it all, and she didn’t want him to be so upset.

“We worked at a local church camp together that July, we’d do crafts and sing songs and after all the kids left and we had to clean up, he’d find a way to take me to the room where they held the nativity scene out of season. He’d start kissing and touching me like normal, and then Kendra walked in once and saw and suddenly he went from obsessed with me, to disgusted, saying I came on to him and that it was all me. He was disgusted by me when we were in public, but he loved me apparently behind closed doors.”

“On August 3rd,” a tear slipped down her cheek. “The day the girls go missing. That was the first time he took me back to the shed and said ‘when two people are in love, they do things, and I love you. So you have to,’ He took his, you know, and I’d never seen one before. It was scary and I didn’t want to, I wanted to leave, but he pushed me against the wall and down to my knees.” She had to stop to take a breath, Spencer was crying silently as he watched her explain it all.

“He kept me trapped there while he did it,” she explained. “The worst part is that his parents were hosting a wedding that night, so no one could hear me basically screaming no over the music. He knew that. And so, when I complained about the sore throat the next day, my parents thought it was from all the singing.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, he looked at her with so much love and sadness, she knew he loved her. She reached across the centre console and wiped the tears off his face, pecking his lips softly before sitting back to continue.

“The dates match up, he was Italian, they’re all 11-13 with throat damage,” she ran it down. “It’s him.”

Spencer licked his lips, wiping the tears off his face before taking a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go tell Hotch.”

Aaron stood up from his desk after Y/N explained the situation, walking up close to her with a sad smile on his face, “this was a very hard thing to come forward with. How would you like to participate in the investigation?” He was soft with her for the first time, it was surreal.

“Um, I’d like to come with you to Arizona,” she said softly. “when Garcia finds him, I’d like to be the one to interview him.”

“Do you think that is a wise idea?” He asked softly.

“When I was 16, years after everything happened. I went to Jimmy’s house for an event, and Christopher was there, and I went to his room. I was so desperate for the bullying to stop. For the lies, he had told about me to go away, that I went in there and apologized to him,” her voice almost disappeared as she got to the end of the sentence. Crying in disbelief. “2 years later he started abducting. I apologized to my rapist and he started kidnapping girls. I need to look him in the eyes and find out why he did it.”

“Okay, let’s tell the team.”

Y/N and Garcia spent an hour building the case files and compiling all the data they had on Christopher Torsey. Joining the team in the briefing room, where Spencer had already relayed the events to the team. Y/N didn’t need to describe it all 3 times in 2 hours.

She passed all the folders out, trying to avoid the looks the team gave her. They were sorry, they respected her, they wanted revenge for her. She knew it all came from a place of love, however, she hated being perceived by others.

It was a trauma thing. For so long people had the wrong idea about her, she was bullied and put down, and hated for no reason. She hates any form of attention, the glances and staring, the whispers of rumours being told as fact. It was stressful.

“Before we start,” she started softly. “Thank you in advance for your concerns, but I’ve been in therapy for 10 years. I’m very happy, this is gonna fuckin’ suck, but at the end of the day I’m coming home to a man who loves me, a baby on the way, and the best friends I can ask for. He’s going to prison. I win.”

Derek smiled at her, “that’s my girl. What did you find?”

“Christopher Torsey was born in November of 1979. His father was extremely abusive, he was in the ER a lot by the time he was 11. His mother killed herself in front of him when he was 12, he also watched his father rape his mother according to his child therapist,” Garcia started. Not knowing how to say the next part without Y/N crying.

“He uh, he said that his dad would tell his mom to be quiet. That-uh, I’m sorry, shouldn’t you say this?”

Y/N stepped in without a second thought. “He said that his father would hold the fact that he loved her over her head to force her into having sex with him. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“He’s our guy for sure. Do we have an address?” Prentiss asked.

“Yeah, he lives in a double-wide trailer in Cottonwood. Near the back with his own access to the main road,” Y/N explained. “I knew he moved to Arizona when Jimmy finally kicked him out. I haven’t heard from him in years.”

“Y/N is coming with us, wheels up in 20.”

—

Cottonwood PD waited for them to arrive before apprehending him. They were concerned that he would run, with his access to the woods and a four-wheeler in his possession, it was a matter of boxing him in quietly with a backup plan in place and men on the ground.

“Can I suggest something?” Y/N cut into the Police Chief and Hotch’s conversation.

“Sure.”

“Um, what if I walk up in our civilian clothes, and just pretend that we’re there to rub it in his face that I'm happy and in love,” Y/N suggested. “I can wear a wire, you can be in a surveillance van listening in. You’ll be right there if we see Sally or sense something’s up.”

“Are you sure you can do that?” Hotch asked her.

“I am,” she turned to Spencer, “if you can control your temper you can come. If not, I’ll show up with Derek and still rub it in his face that someone loves me now.”

Spencer sighed deeply as he contemplated it. “I’ll kill him,” he admitted. “Take Derek.”

“Let’s get suited up,” Derek patted Spencer’s shoulder. “I won’t let him hurt her again. Don’t worry.”

“I know.” Spencer looked disappointed.

Everyone left the room, leaving Spencer and Y/N alone. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug resting her face against his chest. He softly held her in return, rubbing his hands along her back with his cheek on her head.

“I love you, forever and always,” She reminded him. “And I know how much you love me, believe me. I wouldn’t have been able to do this if I didn’t truly believe Chris was wrong.”

She pulled back when she felt a tear on her head. She wiped it softly with her thumb as he leaned his cheek into her palm. “I am loveable, and you love me. I win.”

He laughed softly, “I won too.”

She pulled him into a soft kiss, “I’ll be back in your arms soon.”

“I’ll be in the van watching the whole time, I love you so much,” he added for good measure.

She smiled as she walked away, throwing a fist in the air like the end of the breakfast club. Knowing full well he’d never get the reference. JJ on the other hand, laughed as she followed with Spencer.

They changed into regular clothes, getting in a car from the impound lot and following the surveillance van. Morgan was quiet, Y/N knew he wanted to talk to her, to go over the plan, but he didn’t know how to. The wire wouldn’t be on till they walked out, giving Y/N and Derek their privacy if he ever chose to speak.

“Did you ever confront your guy?” Y/N asked.

He nodded, “Carl Buford. I got to show him who I am now, that I put men like him behind bars. That I’ll always win.”

“Is it a good feeling?”

Derek set his hand palm up on the centre console, looking at her softly as if to ask her to take it. She interlocked their fingers, he rubbed his thumb against her skin.

“You’re right, it fucking sucks. The original pain never goes away, but there is a content feeling knowing he won’t get to hurt another person, that he might get his ass kicked in prison,” he smiled that beautiful Derek smile. “I’ll always be here for when you need someone who gets it.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

They pulled into the trailer park slowly, separating from the team as they approached Christopher’s trailer. “Just pretend you’re Spencer, treat me the way he would. I know Spencer tells you everything, go off of memory of what he’s said about me.”

“You know he tells me everything?” Derek asked softly, laughing a little to himself.

“Because he also tells me everything,” she smirked. “When he’s tired and he rambles, he tells me about his whole day and that includes when he asks you for advice.”

“You two are gross,” he smiled. “I hope I can replicate it.”

“Come on,” she laughed, getting out of the car and waiting for Derek at the hood.

She took his hand before walking up to the door, a hand on her belly to make it look bigger. Really wanting to show off that she was in a better place than he was.

She knocked, 3 times, stepping back so he could open the door. She didn’t feel scared, she felt anxious in excitement to watch Derek take him to the floor.

“Y/N?” She heard his voice for the first time in 13 years. “What are you doing here?”

“My therapist suggested that I come here and show you someone actually did end up loving me, regardless of what you said,” she explained.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he panicked, flashing his eyes back and forth between her and Derek.

“I can come in and explain it for you if you’d like?” Y/N smiled. “You’ve got nothing to hide I assume? I’m just wildly obsessed with you and a liar right? That’s what you told everyone so I wouldn’t be able to say you forced my head on your dick with the promise that you loved me.”

“I- I uh,” he stuttered. Starting to shake lightly.

“That’s what you do to all the girls, isn’t it, Chris?” Derek cut in, pulling the screen door open and watching as Christopher ran to the back of the house. “We got a runner!!” He announced to the wire.

Y/N didn’t run after him, she knew the team had him. She walked through the house to watch from the back door. Only to find Spencer stiff-arming him.

Christopher flipped over Spencer’s arm, hitting the ground before Spencer was on top of him. Spencer punched him in the face, once, twice, three times before he stopped. Sitting over the unconscious man as he caught his breath. Everyone just watched him. He rolled Christopher over, cuffed him and walked away into the woods.

Y/N carefully jogged into the yard, passing the bleeding and groaning asshole she used to know as she ran after Spencer. He was walking too fast, and he didn’t look like he was going to stop.

“Spencer Walter Reid!” She yelled at him as if she was his mother. “Stop.”

He stopped abruptly, huffing as he did so. He only turned around to face her when she finally caught up to him. “Don’t touch me yet,” he instructed her.

“Okay,” she stopped a foot in front of him. “Look at me, breathe. In and out.” She used her hands as she motioned a breath in, and a release out. She repeated it 4 times, watching him do the same.

“Can I hug you now?” She asked softly.

He nodded, stepping into her space and wrapping himself around her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It was actually really appreciated,” she laughed. “I was debating if having a baby at 22 weeks was worth punching him in the face a few times.”

Spencer laughed softly into her shoulder. Squeezing her in his grasp as he breathed her in. “I love you.”

“I love you, more,” she smiled against his neck before pressing a soft kiss to his ever-beating pulse. “Let’s go see the team, come on.”

Y/N was adamant about searching the trailer with the team. Going to the surveillance van for a vest and gloves while Christopher was taken to the police station, and Spencer had his hand wrapped up.

It still smelled like him in there. The smell of his detergent mixed with smoke from the fireplace. It never changed. She noticed his PlayStation was on, he was still interested in games. He still slept with the brown comforter that was on his bed when she was 12. It was worn down, holes gathered at the bottom as it was almost see-through now.

She opened the closet to see a very large metal safe in its place. She took a deep breath, looking at the keypad to see what numbers had been worn down the most, guessing his password.

0803

It popped open, it made her feel sick to her stomach. As she opened it, she heard the muffled screams behind duck tape. Sally Irvine was tied up, hunched over in a tiny metal box while he played GTA.

She wanted to kill him.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” she shushed the girl. “Sally, my name is Y/N. We’re here to take you home, you're safe now.”

Y/N took the tape off Sally’s mouth softly, the girl sobbed immediately. Not able to say a single thing as Y/N untied her and held Sally in her arms. Sally hugged her back as tight as she could, sobbing into her shirt as Y/N rocked her back and forth. Crying along with her.

“He did it to me when I was 12 too,” Y/N whispered.

Sally pulled back and looked at her with puffy eyes, “really?” She asked. Her voice low and scratchy.

“JJ can you get some water?” She called behind her. “Yes. I was his first.”

“Y/N,” the girl repeated. “That’s what he called me?”

She couldn’t stop the sick feeling in her gut, “let’s get you out of here.” She changed the topic, helping the little girl to her feet and to an ambulance.

Y/N smiled at her as she dropped her off with the EMTs, walking off into the woods as quickly as she could. She leaned over, holding her own hair back as she threw up on the ground.

She swatted away at the hand rubbing her back suddenly, continuing to hurl in the bushes as she heard them behind her, shushing her. She wiped her hand on her mouth before she calmed herself down.

She sighed and turned around to see Morgan. His arms were open for her to hug him, she buried her face in his chest as she cried. Not able to fully process all the information she just heard.

“Let’s get you home,” Derek whispered. Escorting her back to the car, she was done for the day.

chapter 22

Valentine’s day had come and gone by the time they finished their most recent case. Landing in Quantico very late on the 16th of February. Everyone departed the plane slowly, half asleep after the 3-hour flight.

“Did you guys miss any plans?” Y/N asked JJ and Emily as they walked together.

“Yeah,” Emily sighed, “I uh, I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Since when?” JJ asked, both her and Y/N suddenly not tired at all. They stopped on the tarmac and stared at her.

“Um, a few months now,” She blushed.

“Was this the sin to win weekend?” Y/N asked softly.

Emily nodded, “what’s sin to win?” JJ asked just as quietly.

“It’s a weekend for gay people in Atlantic City,” Emily replied. “It’s an easy way to mingle in a safe space.”

“Oh,” JJ was shocked. “Oh, so you’re, and you too?” She pointed at both of them as the information was processed.

Y/N and Emily smiled at her and laughed. “Bi? Yes,” Y/N replied.

“I’m still not sure,” Emily added. She sighed deeply, shaking her head as she tried to speak again. “I’ve never really enjoyed male company? It feels more like a performance than a relationship.”

“I mean good for you for noticing that now, if it wasn’t for Spencer I’d be in the same boat,” Y/N smirked at her. “He’s more than just a pretty face.”

“Wow,” JJ was shocked. “I would’ve never known.”

Emily placed her hand on JJ’s back, leading her towards the charter back to headquarters, “oh you poor, poor, heterosexual woman.”

“She has a cat, she cuts her bangs when she’s stressed and she bites her fingernails,” Y/N explained to JJ as they picked their seats. “She likes pussy, JJ.”

Emily smacked her arm lightly, all of them laughing hysterically. The boys walked onto the bus to their cackling, desperately wanting to know what was so funny.

“I was just telling them, I met someone and I’d like for you to all meet her soon,” Emily explained to the rest of the team. “I think you’ll really like her.”

“No way,” Derek smiled, high-fiving her. “Congrats dude, welcome to the dark side.”

“You too?” JJ was shocked. “Okay, put your hand up if you’re a straight person,” she stretched her arm into the air. Hotch and Rossi joined her.

“Really?” Spencer and Y/N looked at each other with excitement.

“What the fuck?” JJ was dumbfounded. “How did I not know this?”

“It just never came up before,” Derek shrugged. “Tell us more about this girlfriend of yours, Prentiss.”

“Or,” Y/N cut in. “you could bring her to Vegas in April.”

“Why?” Emily smirked at her.

“If you’re all free on April 23rd,” She teased them along. “Spencer and I would like you to come to our wedding at my parent’s house.”

“Oh!” JJ and Emily freaked, “holy shit!”

“So, you guys are in?” She laughed.

“Yeah!”

For 2 in the morning, the bus was the most excited they had ever been. And Penelope didn’t even join them on this trip. Normally it was her making this kind of excitement, Y/N basked in the happiness that filled the bus.

They discussed little details on the way to their cars, standing in the garage for a good 15 minutes as they planned the dates they’d need to arrange to have off. Hotch knew he could pull some strings to use everyone’s vacation time for a few days.

They exchanged hugs before breaking apart for the night. Planning to return around noon that same day. Giving them a sweet 9 hours of peace and quiet.

“We still need to invite Penelope,” Spencer whispered when they were halfway home. Interrupting the silence that Y/N was enjoying.

Y/N laughed softly, watching him drive with a smile on his face. “I only told the rest of them because Penelope somehow hacked into my calendar app, to plan a baby shower around my schedule, and saw the plans.”

“Of course,” he nodded along.

“So yeah,” she smiled. “She’s told me that she wants to throw me a baby shower/bachelorette party now.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed, squeezing her thigh where his hand was always glued to her.

“If we even get more time off before the wedding, I’m crossing every appendage on my body in the hopes all the psychos take the day off!” She laughed, twisting her arms and legs in a demonstration.

He laughed, leaning against the wheel as he tried to keep his focus on the road. “I love you.”

“You better!” She teased him.

It went quiet again. She could hear the tires on the sandy slush. The grinding of pressure as the snow compressed into the tire tread. Small rocks being flicked up from the wheels, smacking the underbelly of the car as they approached their house.

She sighed as she saw the place, the beautiful green door illuminated by the porch light. Screaming ‘welcome home!’ As they pulled into the parking spot.

Sleep surprisingly came easier to her the more pregnant she got. She was used to laying on her left side now, she actually preferred it, because it means that every morning when she woke up, the sun came in just perfectly to make Spencer glow.

The alarm on Spencer’s table started to beep letting them know it was 10:30. She softly watched him roll over and smacked the machine before turning back to her and closing his eyes once more.

“No.”

She huffed in a silent laugh, getting closer to kiss the tip of his nose. “Time to wake up,” she whispered between kisses spread across his face.

He was trying his best not to smile as she peppered his skin with kisses. Pushing him onto his back so she had more skin to cover. It had been a while since they did anything together.

Between the cases and the baby, and everything Spencer learned about her past trauma. He’s been a little distant, and it was starting to make her worry. Dr. Korrapati promised that this sudden burst of anxiety was normal at this stage of pregnancy. It was what contributed the most to the nesting phase, but it still scared her.

She wanted to kiss him, to run her hand down his chest and palm over his boxers until she couldn’t take it anymore. So she did, just a little more seductively.

She moaned softly as she kissed the patch of skin under his ear and down his neck softly. She dragged her fingers over his skin, looping around his nipple as she sucked on his neck. She lifted her leg lightly over his, trying to get some friction between her legs as she kissed him.

“We should probably just go to work,” Spencer softly interjected.

She sighed, dropping her forehead against his shoulder and letting her shoulders slouch.

“I’m not broken!” She sat straight up as she yelled at him. “Can I please just fuck my boyfriend? I have been horny for Weeks,” she wasn’t sure where the sudden burst of emotion came from.

“Oh,” he sat up too, resting his hand on her back softly. “I didn’t realize you wanted to after everything, and the baby? You’ve had a rough few months.”

She laughed lightly, “Spence, of course I do?”

She looked at him softly, cupping his jaw in her hand. “I’ve had to process my trauma before. Yes, it’s still bothering me, and yes I have new trauma that I need to address with my therapist. But,” she emphasized. “I am a woman with needs, and one of those needs is getting railed before work by Doctor Reid.”

“You’re one hundred percent sure?” Spencer asked again.

She smiled and nodded, pushing him back down against the pillows. She resumed her last position, putting her leg between his so they could grind lightly and make out. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll ask you to stop.”

“Okay,” Spencer looked up at her, brushing her hair behind her ear as she hovered over him. “I love you.”

“Prove it,” she teased him, leaning in and kissing his neck again.

He reached behind her to grab her ass, she had noticed his hands gravitating there more as she gained pregnancy weight. She wasn’t complaining either, the way his hands felt on her skin was glorious.

He was putty in her hands, tilting his head to the side so she could kiss, lick and suck wherever she so pleased. She reached her free hand into his hair while he other kept her steady, in the perfect spot to grind against his boney hip.

He was all gasps and heavy breaths underneath her, she raised her leg lightly dragging it over his hardening erection before putting herself back in place. Just wanting to see how far along he was.

She rolled onto her back then, laying flat, waiting for him. He pushed his underwear to his ankles as he flipped on top of her. She was nothing but giggles as Her Spencer came out to play.

Opening her legs, she greeted him back into her grasp as he hovered over her. Both hands planted against the pillow as he looked down at her. His hair falling into his eyes, she pushed his hair back behind his ears.

“You might need a haircut soon,” she teased him, biting her lip softly.

“Shhh,” he whispered.

She took his right hand from beside her head, gripping him by the wrist and guiding him towards her mouth. Taking his middle and ring finger in, sucking on the digits softly. Making him release a sound she’s never heard before.

She looped her tongue around his fingers, spreading them lightly as she licked a stripe through them. Feeling his skin against her teeth, which only seemed to excite him more.

She pulled off with a pop, he looked mesmerized by the trail of spit that connected her bottom lip to his wet fingers. “Fuck,” he gasped as his breathing hitched.

“You know where to put them,” she whispered up at him, staring into his eyes as she bit her lip.

He kissed her quickly, pulling her forward so he could get the t-shirt she was still wearing off her body, throwing it off the bed as he kissed her neck, sucking a mark into the skin as he pushed his hand into her panties.

“Jesus,” he whispered against her neck as he felt how wet she was. “You weren’t kidding.”

Making her twitch slightly as he used the two fingers that were just in her mouth, to drag up and down on her clit. Rubbing it back and forth between the two knuckles.

“Fuck,” she breathed out as she gripped his hair. Palming his scalp while he kept kissing her neck.

She could feel him grinding against the bed as he kissed her, moaning against the space under her ear as he quickened his finger movements.

“I need you to fuck me, like yesterday,” she panted against his mouth, licking his bottom lip after.

He pulled away from her then, lifting her hips to drag her panties down. Keeping them on one of her ankles as he gripped the base of his cock and sat on his knees.

The sight between her legs was phenomenal. The glow of the sun on the lake through the windows as Spencer stroked himself in front of her.

Suddenly, he took both of her knees in his hands. Pushing them to her chest slightly before flipping her over. Extending her hips as he held her ass up. Kissing each cheek softly before straightening his posture.

“Ready?” He asked, she wasn’t expecting it.

Her face pressed into the pillow as she tried to find the best position to support herself. Pushing her hips back in a silent yes. He understood her body language, lining himself up with her and slowly pushing in.

She pushed back against him as well, moaning as she took all of him. “Finally,” she sighed, wiggling against his hips.

He gripped her hips, pushing her off abruptly before slamming back in. She was shocked, letting out a gasped moan as he fucked into her. Taking the instructions too literally, railing her.

She had never been that loud before in her life. Concerned Rossi would be able to hear them from across the lake, but it didn’t stop her. Only enticing him to keep it up.

She pressed her face into the pillow more as she attempted to reach her clit. She couldn’t, “fuck, Spence?”

“Yeah?” He slowed.

She took his hand off her hip, “can’t reach.” Her breath was erratic as she tried to explain.

“Aw poor bunny,” he teased her, slowing to a grind as his fingers ghosted over her clit. “Can’t get yourself off anymore?”

“Please daddy?” She let it slip, feeling his cock twitch inside of her as she did.

He leaned forward, kissing her shoulder softly. “Tell daddy what you want, use your big girl words.”

She pushed back against him, raising herself from the pillow to look over her shoulder at him. “I was going to say breed me, daddy.” She teased, watching his entire personality change. “But it looks like you already did.”

He licked his lips, pushing his hair out of his face as he shook his head at her. “You’re going to regret that.”

She pressed her face back into the pillow and perched her ass back more, ever the invitation. He ran his hand softly over her asscheek, slapping it before he started to fuck her again, reaching around to rub her clit, like she asked, ever so nicely.

They found their rhythm then, pushing against each other in just the right way. Between her deep breathing and the moans she released, the only other thing she could only hear was the sound of their skin slapping together as Spencer fucked her harder than ever before.

“Fuck, sweet Jesus I love your cock,” she praised him, punching into the pillow as she pushed herself back into him, on all 4’s now.

Using his free hand, he spread his fingers through her hair. Gripping her at the roots and pulling her head back as he slammed into her.

“Yes, daddy,” Y/N panted as she felt herself get closer to the edge. “Right there.”

“Cum for me bunny,” he instructed her, “let me fill your perfect little cunt.”

She came with a shout, pushing back against him as his words pushed her over the edge. Not being able to ever say no to that man, feeling his hips shake as he tried to fuck her through his own orgasm.

He pulled out, flipping her limp body back over so she could lay on her back, releasing the pressure on her stomach. Legs still spread as he observed his handiwork, scooping it up with his fingers and pushing it back inside of her. Making her clench up at the feeling.

“Spence-“

“Too much?” He smirked down at her.

She nodded, catching her breath as he just sat there. Still, on his knees, cock now soft and resting against his leg. She preached herself up on her forearms, shaking her head at him as she bit her lip.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” She asked him.

“I have no idea,” he laughed. “But hypothetically,” he bit his lip and raised his eyebrow. “I wouldn’t mind revisiting that on a later date.”

She laughed, dropping back against the sheets. “Me either.”

—

She waddled from the car to the elevator. A mixture of pregnancy and over-extending her hips, exercising with Spencer. Lamaze class more specifically, if anyone asked.

“I should really start calling you ducky,” Spencer whispered in the elevator.

“I hate you,” she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“Really?” He teased her, “because if I recall 27 minutes and 15 seconds ago when you were saying ‘fuck, sweet Jesus, I love your cock,’” he whispered into her ear.

The elevator doors opened as her jaw dropped, “notice how I specified which part, Doctor Reid?” She answered abruptly, walking out towards her coworkers.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” He said as he followed her. Making everyone turn around to see them.

“What’s going on?” Morgan noticed it first.

“Nothing,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Just correcting the genius.”

“On?” Prentiss pried.

“Well this morning she said and I quote-“

“I will cut your balls off and hang them from the mirror in my car,” she snapped, glaring at him as she pointed her finger in his direction.

“Mama’s got claws,” Morgan laughed at them. “Damn.”

Spencer wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek in front of everyone. She turned pink, pretending to be pissed while a smile crept onto her face.

“She loves me,” Spencer smiled, pressing their cheeks together.

“One part, it’s nice to me and doesn’t talk back,” she replied, making everyone laugh as Spencer shook his head.

“Okay, you win,” he put his hands up in surrender as he backed away. Opening the door to the bullpen and disappearing behind his desk.

chapter 23

St. Patrick’s Day was never a holiday that Y/N or Spencer really cared for. Yes, they wore green to work, but other than that they didn’t really see the hype. They were Halloween people.

Will and JJ, on the other hand, went all out.

It was something to do with Will’s love for beer and his frat-boy attitude. Explaining to them that morning in the bullpen that the best parties on his college campus were around St. Patrick’s day and Mardi Gras, making February and March party central in his life.

They walked in with little Henry, decked out in green from head to toe. Green beads around his neck, gold chocolate coins in a basket, and the cutest little shamrock light-up head bopper.

“Look at you!!” Y/N called out to Henry as she walked into the room. Opening her arms up and leaning down to pick him up as he ran into her arms.

“Any Y/N!” Henry called her, not being able to say his T’s yet.

She pressed his tiny cheek against her face as she picked him up and snuggled him against her chest. It was getting harder to pick him up now that she was pregnant but she wasn’t going to miss a Henry snuggle.

“Since when did the FBI consult with leprechauns?” She asked him, booping her nose against him.

“Nooo,” Henry leaned back in her arms, “I’m not a leopard-con,” he tried his best to say the word. Making the team all laugh.

“Well, either way, why’s my favourite little guy here today?”

“Hey?” Spencer complained.

She leaned her elbow into him, “hi unca Spence,” Henry smiled at him. Spencer ran his fingers through Henry’s hair, messing it up under the headband.

“He wanted his godparents to see his outfit before the party at daycare today!” JJ explained with excitement.

Y/N placed him back on his feet, “go on the, show it off!”

He walked around the room, doing a fake model strut as he shook his diapered butt, walking towards the stairs before running back. “Woooow!” Everyone clapped and cheered.

Y/N looked up from Henry’s gaze, seeing Emily in Hotch’s office with a blond woman she didn’t recognize, “what’s going on in there?” She pointed.

“They’ve been in there all morning,” Rossi explained. “I think that’s the girlfriend.”

“How so?” Spencer asked, moving across the room to get a better view through the blinds.

“The way Emily leans against her, hand on her arm like that as she speaks. That’s the same way you and lady boy-wonder act when you’re in there together,” Rossi raised an eyebrow at them.

“Ahh,” Y/N smirked. “I wonder what happened, no one talks to Hotch with the door closed unless they need us to look into something.”

“I’ve gotta go,” Will cut in, scooping Henry up from the carpet with a tight-lipped smile.

“Bye buddy,” Y/N scrunched her nose at him, getting in close to press their noses together. “Have a good day today.”

“Bye, love you,” JJ kissed both her boys and watched them leave the room.

“they’re the best,” Y/N said as she wrapped an arm around JJ.

“Anyone want to go sit and have coffee while we wait for them?” Derek asked prior to a long yawn.

Rossi patted Derek on the back, leading him up the stairs and towards the briefing room. The remaining team members following their lead, discovering fresh donuts and flowers waiting for them.

“A gift for helping in advance, -Noelle” Read the small card on the table.

“Emily’s girlfriend?” JJ pondered, holding the card up and waving it slightly.

“I like her already,” Derek said, kicking his feet back and taking a donut.

Hotch walked in with Emily and Mindy 45 minutes later. Following them was a beautiful blond woman, probably 6’1 even in her flat running shoes. She was wearing cuffed blue skinny jeans and a big Barbie Pink petticoat.

She smiled lightly as she walked in, glueing herself to Emily’s side. “This is Noelle, my partner, Noelle these are my co-workers.”

“Hi!” She waved, “let me guess. Chocolate thunder, Derek Morgan.” She pointed to the nearest person to her.

“Correct,” Derek nodded in her direction.

“You would have to be Penelope Garcia,” she guessed right once again. “Emily was right, your aura is very bright.”

“Oh,” Penelope blushed.

“Y/N and Spencer, she said you’d be basically sitting on top of each other,” making everyone on the team laugh. “JJ, she said you’re like wonder woman, you look more like you could be cast as Super Girl if you ask me.”

JJ blushed, “thank you, Henry would agree.”

“Rossi, I already knew you. I love your books,” she fangirled a little. Something Rossi was incredibly used to.

“Signing hours are from 6-8,” he teased her.

Noelle laughed, her smile wide and toothy. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”

“Noelle has come in today with concerns that local gay men in her circle of friends are going missing. Over the last few holidays, 3 of her friends have disappeared. Dropping all contact after a trip to the bar,” Hotch explained.

“I’m a firefighter,” Noelle explained. “I have a Facebook group of friends who are gay and in the forces in any capacity. Just to let each other know where they’re going, to be safe.”

“Smart system,” Rossi complimented. “But also incredibly easy for someone to pose as trustful to gain access and track them.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Emily’s pressed lip smile portraying just how uncomfortable she was with the situation. “I’ve met our supposed victim number 3. Officer Perry is a great man and we haven’t heard from him since Friday.”

“Where was he going?” Y/N asked.

“He was at the bar with us on Friday for a little, we got a few beers and then he said he was meeting with a guy he met online, he was never big into online dating or even dating in general. He didn’t know how to be an officer and gay at the same time,” Noelle explained the situation fully. “He is one of my best friends, I excused it Saturday when he didn’t call cause I guessed he was having a good time. But when he missed Sunday dinner I knew something was wrong. I begged Emily to let me pitch this to you.”

“I believe you,” Hotch added. “Which is why I’ve asked Mindy Patel from VICAP to join us today.”

Mindy waved, she dressed more like a techie than an agent. Beanie, headphones on her neck and a big black sweater.

“Strauss and I agreed it would be beneficial to have a member of the team solely responsible for going through VICAP coincidences and letting us know. We stumble across too many rare cases thanks to Y/N and Mindy,” Hotch explained. “Mindy Patel is now officially VICAP Liaison. Her office will be across from Garcia’s from now on, she’s going to be our eyes and ears in the missing person world for the time being.”

“I took into account the fact that your friends were all masc for masc, on the police force in some capacity and male obviously,” Mindy explained. “And I found the two men from Valentines Day and New Years, and then more going back every major holiday for the last 2 years as of this St. Patrick’s day.”

“We’ve compiled the data and sent it to Garcia, it’ll be on your tablets shortly,” Hotch confirmed. “I’d like everyone to split up into teams and take an apartment of the most recent 3 victims. Prentiss and Rossi, you get New Years’.”

“Yes sir,” Emily agreed. “Noelle can stay here with Penelope for insight.”

“Yes. Reid, Y/N and Morgan, you’ll take officer Perry’s apartment. It’s the freshest so I need the best eyes.”

“Absolutely,” they replied in unison.

“Myself and JJ are going to the Valentines Day abduction,” check in with Garcia when you need to, fill me in on everything. Good luck.”

—

“Yeah a cop lives here,” Y/N laughed as she searched through the carefully organized home. Combing the place over for the slightest abnormality.

“He definitely wasn’t taken,” Morgan agreed. “He went willingly and never made it home.”

Dust was starting to settle on his possessions. Photos on the wall looked blurry as the sun shined through the windows. It smelled stale, no one had opened the windows in a while and the man who lived here worked out.

His clothing was organized by category. His laundry had 3 separate baskets for darks, lights and colours. Inside his bedside drawers, all his condoms were lined up by type. He was definitely anal about something.

“Guys?” Spencer called from the office.

Morgan and Y/N followed the sound of his voice, seeing him hunched over an iMac. “I moved the mouse and it’s open and unlocked.”

“But you don’t know what to do?” She teased him.

“Yeah,” he blushed. Watching Y/N sit in the desk chair and start looking through his things.

“His Facebook is pretty basic, he checked in at the bar with a photo here of him with Emily and Noelle, and then he went offline. He doesn’t have Twitter or Tumblr logged in, so I’m guessing he doesn’t have that,” Y/N explains as she stalked his activity. “In his history, your male basics. Case research, pornhub, Facebook, Hotmail… hold on.”

She read through all the subjects, all looking pretty normal. “What would a gay man hiding his sex life from his co-workers disguise his emails as?”

“Work-out appointments,” Morgan answered almost too quickly.

‘Workout’ she typed into the search bar. Seeing 15 messages from another man named domworkouts@hotmail.com. “got him, call Garcia.”

“Hey baby girl,” Derek spoke softly as she answered. “We got Jensen Perry’s computer open, his email shows he’s been working out with a domworkouts@hotmail.com.”

“Already working my finger magic,” she teased him. Hanging up before he could say anything back.

“That woman will be the death of me,” he sighed.

“I don’t think we’ll find anything else here, our best bet is with Garcia,” Y/N admitted as she closed all the windows. “Wait,” she pulled up the search and typed in ‘find my iPhone,’ “if he has a Mac he has an iPhone, not many people blend their tech.”

Last ping: 2256 Sheerly Lane, Friday at 23:56.

“I’ll call Hotch while you drive,” Y/N said, pulling out her phone and following the men out the door.

Morgan followed the GPS 15 minutes down the street to an apartment complex. It was worn down and looked as if no one had taken care of it in the last 25 years. “I’m calling Garcia before you go in, I don’t feel good about this.”

“Hey doll,” Garcia’s cheery voice was a nice refresher.

“Hey, do you have any info on who owns and occupies 2256, Sheerly Lane?” Y/N asked softly. “Also send backup to this location, it’s where Perry’s iPhone is apparently and it looks sketchy as hell.”

She heard the clicking of the keys before she heard Garcia’s reply. “Yep, we have 1 occupant. Amy Romano, 46, left the building after her mother died. She’s been living there in room 333 for years, not renting any rooms out at all in the last 3 years.”

“A woman?” Morgan was shocked.

“Must be why we’ve never found the bodies, female serial killers are 90% less likely to ever be caught,” Reid added his fun fact, one she’s heard from him a handful of times before.

“Exactly,” Y/N agreed. “What do we know about her?”

“She’s an interesting one,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Her father was a minister, big bible freak. Her mother was the maid here at the hotel before being given the deed from the original owner’s family. She died in 1988.”

“How much of the religious upbringing rubbed off on her?”

“Enough to make her have multiple psychotic breaks, being diagnosed with schizophrenia when she was 15,” Garcia gained more insight. “Claimed to have been visited by God, and was told sinners are punished by word of god. That one day she would be the one to follow his word for the righteous man.”

“What if she’s doing her own form of conversion therapy?” Y/N gasped. “She’s not killing them. She’s following god’s word and freeing them from their sins. This is the perfect place to keep them. Locking them in rooms away from each other, secluding them and only subjecting them to a female for long periods of time.”

“Garcia, we need back up right now,” Morgan stressed.

“they’re 4 minutes out, good luck in there my babies.”

“See you soon, baby girl.”

Being left out of raids was weird to her, watching Spencer put on a bullet-proof vest and load his gun without her cover made her anxious. Luckily, she got to stand with JJ outside. Watching the building as they listened over their radiofrequency.

“Clear,” Morgan spoke over the system.

“Clear here as well,” Hotch said. “Meet me at the stairwell.”

“I hate this,” Y/N whispered.

JJ ran her hand along Y/N’s back softly, “me too.”

“Floor 3, room 33,” Hotch explained. “I’ll kick in the door, Morgan, you enter first. Spencer and Prentiss, follow our lead.”

Not having a visual was the worst part. There was no way to know where they were or who was there. They worked on sounds, if and when the team decided to speak.

“1, 2, 3,” Morgan whispered before they heard the door smash in. “FBI!”

Then it was silent again, too quiet for anyone’s liking, staring up at the third floor trying to hear everything in the neighbourhood.

“Amy Romano put the gun down!”

“No!” They heard before 4 shots were fired.

Y/N’s heart was in her throat; she couldn’t hear anything going on inside. The officers asked over the radio for updates, hearing nothing in return. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from running towards the apartment buildings before anyone could catch her. Up 3 flights of stairs, drawing her gun and walking towards the room.

Morgan was shot in the arm, down. Prentiss, hiding behind a table with Morgan and Spencer as she tried to stop the bleeding. Hotch in the unsub’s grasp, fighting for a gun.

Hotch noticed Y/N in the doorway. Kicking the unsub down. Y/N wrapped her arm around the unsub’s neck, putting her in a headlock as Hotch attempted to cuff her. She struggled like a wet fish against them, slipping out of her grasp and falling to the floor.

“If God wants to tell me to stop, he’ll tell me himself!” She screamed.

Y/N presses her gun to her head, “he just did.”

“Amy Romano you’re under arrest for the kidnapping of 24 men, attempted murder of a federal agent and resisting arrest,” Hotch explained as he cuffed her.

“Y/N!” Spencer stood up, looking at her like she was the crazy person. “We agreed, 3rd trimester, no fieldwork.”

“You didn’t reply on the radio and suddenly I was here,” Y/N explained, “I’m sorry.”

“We need EMTs, Morgan’s been shot in the arm. The bleeding is under control, just hurry.” Prentiss ordered over the radio.

“Y/L/N is going to need to get checked as well,” Spencer added.

“Why?”

“You ran up three flights of stairs, wrestled an unsub and got elbowed in the side,” Spencer explained, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.

“I’m sorry, I get it now I really do,” Y/N stopped him in the hallway, holding him in her arms. “I don’t like when I can’t see that you’re safe.”

Spencer kissed the top of her head, “I love you.”

“The baby’s kicking,” she replied softly, “that’s good right? 4 movements in 30 minutes after activity is a good thing.”

Spencer laughed, pulling back to feel her belly. “I’m sure he’s all hopped up on adrenaline now, come on let’s get him looked at quickly.”

—

They found 16 of the 24 men alive and in critical condition inside the apartment building. SCSI was canvassing the scene with local cops, taping up the building and surrounding property while the city discussed demolishing the building altogether.

Y/N was able to witness Noelle running into Jensen Perry’s arms, hugging him as they cried in his hospital bed. Y/N could imagine the trauma he was going through, the terror and the fear of something you really don’t want, happening anyway.

“Why do people do terrible things in the name of God?” Y/N whispered towards Spencer, looking up at him with soft eyes. Truly curious.

“The religious system runs similarly to cults, they believe the words are to be followed and thus they will gain entrance to heaven. If there’s one thing humans are afraid of more than dying, it’s internal damnation. Holding the fact that they will suffer in death over their head is a way to get them to do anything.” Spencer explained softly. “With the right person, the wrong message can actually sound like a pretty good thing.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, “how do you raise a good child in a fucked up world?”

“Matthew, 18; 1 through 5, At that time the disciples came to Jesus and said, “Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Spencer repeated the bible verse softly. “Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me.”

Y/N smiled, “I like that.”

“He was always supposed to be good, he has you as his mother.”

chapter 24

April rolled around out of nowhere. Suddenly the snow had all melted, the birds were returning, and the trees were starting to bud thanks to the week of thunderstorms.

Love was in the air, both in the wild and in Y/N’s life.

The wedding’s in 2 weeks and she’s growing daily. She wanted to wait till the last possible moment to get her dress. Wanting it to actually fit over her stomach on the big day without any struggle.

Being placed on office duty for the rest of her pregnancy made it easier, not being allowed to leave Mindy and Penelope's side, under direct order from Aaron Hotchner. She was starting to notice that the more pregnant she got, the more the men of the team wanted to protect her as well.

JJ said it was the same for her the first time, all the alpha personalities came out around the third trimester. It was like they didn’t quite register that a woman on the team was pregnant till it was abundantly clear.

The girls had all agreed to go to the dress store with Y/N when they had a free afternoon, but that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. Y/N ended up going by herself between cases while Spencer was on a flight, trying on 6 different dresses before she found one that made her happy.

The sales associate was being extra nice to her, knowing she had both a big budget and no time. It was an easy sale, but this wasn’t an easy decision.

She tried a sleeveless, skin-tight number on first. Not being able to even move once she got in it, not even bothering to look in the mirror. It wasn’t right, that was for sure.

Eventually, by #5 they had an idea of what she wanted. Long sleeves to hide her stretch marks, it had to be flowy but still show off the bump. And she wanted lace, embroidery even. Something that made it different, something that was more like her. Always growing, changing, adapting.

She was wandering the racks when she saw it.

It was so long, the train had to be at least 6 feet. It was light, made with sheer fabric so it would twist and flow with whatever direction she ran or danced. She could imagine walking through the grass with the train flowing behind her with purpose.

The most wonderful aspect was the long sleeves and the neckline. Cupping her chest perfectly with a nice ribbon right above her bump. The entire dress reminded her of something, the floral embroidery sending her back to a dress she remembers from her childhood, not able to place it but knowing it in her heart.

She looked in the mirror at herself, she felt beautiful. She shook her head lightly as a tear fell down her cheek. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

The sales associate shook a big bell then, causing everyone to look at her and cheer. “Are you saying yes?” She asked, as cheesy as it was, she loved it.

“Yes!” She cheered back, feeling the love from everyone in the store.

The dress was huge, she laid the bag against her passenger seat and stared at it for a while. It felt a little crazy that she was getting married in a few days, even crazier that she was having a baby in 2 months.

Her phone rang as she started to leave. “Hewwo?” She answered softly, knowing it was Spencer.

“I just got home, where are you?”

“Oh,” she smiled. “Penelope said you guys wouldn’t be back until 9, I went and picked out a dress.”

“Alone?” He sounded sad.

“It was better this way, I picked it for me and no one else,” she reassured him. “I’m on my way home now though baby, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, drive safe. I love you,” Spencer replied, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

“Love you too,” she hung up.

She sighed, turning on the stereo and driving home to her favourite albums. Driving alone was different for her now, she used to love just escaping into the Virginia wilderness, picking a road and an album and just going somewhere.

Driving with Spencer meant silence, hand-holding, humming and ha-ing as he discovered new facts that intrigued him. She loved it, the ambiance of Doctor Spencer Reid was not something you could replicate, it was special and calming and wonderful.

She couldn’t wait to get home to him.

He was waiting on the front porch as she rolled into the driveway. Joining her at the car, wanting to help her carry her things inside. “Hi,” she smiled at him as she stepped out.

He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek softly. “Want some help?”

“If you don’t mind carrying in my dress, I need to pee so bad!” She said, almost about to run inside when he stopped her.

“Like how bad?” He asked.

“Excuse me?”

“If you were to get surprised would you pee your pants?” He tried not to laugh as he asked.

“Spence?”

“Just go in,” he said softly.

She sighed, knowing what this meant. Walking up the stairs slowly, turning the doorknob just as slow. Not ready to have her eardrums blown out.

“Surprise!!”

Sure enough, there were balloons and flowers and her friends gathered all inside her front hall. “Oh my god?”

Penelope wrapped her in a hug first, “your first baby shower has to be special!”

“You guys really didn’t have to do this?” She was so shocked to be getting attention that she felt a little embarrassed.

“We wanted to,” JJ hugged her next, their bumps too big to hug normally, opting for more of a side snuggle. “I got you something to change into before we get started.”

Y/N took the small blue bag from her, kicking her shoes off before they went upstairs. Spencer joining with her wedding dress, hanging it in the closet and slipping back downstairs, unnoticed.

Y/N opened the gift bag on her bed, JJ looked around the room for the first time ever. Looking at the photos of their first day of kindergarten on the wall, the artwork they chose. How Spencer wrote notes to her on the mirror with whiteboard markers.

“You guys are really cute,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

Finally taking the dress out of the bag, it was just something simple. Blue with pink flowers. Something she’d definitely pick out on her own. “This is so beautiful!”

“I got it when I was pregnant with Henry and never had a chance to wear it,” She smiled, “thought that you’d like it more.”

Y/N hugged her, “seriously this is the best thing you guys could’ve done for me!”

“I’m also going to need a pink dress,” JJ said softly in her grasp.

“No?” Y/N was shocked. “Really a mini JJ?”

“Yeah,” she smiled softly. “Hurry up we have more surprises for you downstairs!”

—

It took her longer than she hoped to get changed. The baby was just big enough to make her winded all the time now. Having to stop and take a breather just from taking her pants off. Not to mention the struggle of standing up after peeing.

When she finally made it back down the stairs on her swollen feet, she heard a familiar giggle that she loved very much. “You didn’t?”

JJ smiled, “it was Rossi and Will, they flew them all in and got them here.”

Her parents, brothers and wives were all in the kitchen waiting for her. Then she saw Diana, who was pressed up close to Spencer having a conversation in their own little world.

She walked in and cried, hugging her parents for the first time in 5 months. Showing off her big baby bump and chunky face for the first time too.

“You look amazing!” Her mom complimented her, taking her hand and making her spin slowly.

“Thank you, I feel huge,” she smiled. “I can’t believe you guys are here, I’m literally coming home in 2 weeks!”

“When David Rossi calls you and says he has a jet picking us up, you don’t just say no,” her father laughed, wrapping his arm around Rossi. They were going to be something else together.

She gave Diana a big hug when she could, watching her rub her belly and talk to the baby through her stomach for a good 10 minutes. It was so cute, everyone in the room watched and swooned. Secretly always hoping Spencer’s family got a moment like this.

After dealing with the Riley Jenkins case, and Gideon leaving, they worried for him. They never expected him to just show up one day with a girl and start the rest of his life the way he did. But it just made sense. He sped through school and early adulthood well before Y/N, now they’re moving fast, just together.

They had pizza for dinner, spreading 6 different kinds across the counter and telling everyone to dig in. Y/N took a slice and walked around, mingling with everyone to ensure she thanked them for coming.

“Henry!” She finally found him with Chloe and Lizzie. He ran into her arms, giving her a big hug. “Did you meet my niece?”

“You’re my any?” He questioned her right back.

“Come here Clo,” she called her over, huddling them both in close to her. “You both get to call me aunty Y/N, isn’t that so cool? You’re new friends and you share an aunty!”

Chloe gave her a big hug, she was getting bigger and bigger every day, about to turn 4 in a few months. It felt a little crazy, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“How are you?” She asked her softly.

“I’m good,” she whispered at her, smiling before hiding her face in her dress.

“Are you having fun here? Did you meet buddy yet?”

“No!” Chloe’s face lit up.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” She gasped at them both, getting back up to her feet and walking with them to where Buddy hid in the laundry room.

He was curled into a ball in a basket of towels, peaceful in the quietest room in the house.

Chloe and Henry took turns petting Buddy, kissing his head and playing with his tail, it was good for him to get a little used to grabby kid's hands. She was a little worried about how he’d handle a baby, but he was a chill cat he never really cared about attention as long as he was fed.

Eventually, JJ and Lizzie found them, peeling them away from the cat with the promise of cake while Y/N opened her gifts from everyone.

Everyone was watching her as she sat down in the living room, feeling a little anxious like she had to perform for them or something. Spencer finally joined her on the couch then, wrapping his arm around her in a soothing motion.

“So,” Garcia started. “I took it upon myself to organize the party but I didn’t just stop there, I also emailed everyone a link to a chart where they could pick the category of gift they got you so that we avoided repeats and got everything you would need.”

“This is all so much,” she turned bright pink. “You guys really didn’t have to I feel like I haven’t bought anything for myself since I met Spencer.”

“Nonsense!” Penelope hushed her. “Here, pick whatever one grabs your fancy.”

Y/N’s eyes raked over the pile of gifts, “um that big one over there, why not.”

It was a big blue bag, stuffed to the brim with tissue paper. The card on the handle was signed, she opened it to find 'from; Erin Strauss' on it. “Oh?”

“She couldn’t come but she passed that along on behalf of the section,” Hotch explained.

Y/N didn’t waste any time opening it. Finding brand named everything that she would need for breastfeeding, losing her mind at the never-ending bag.

Almost every gift was the same, all themed and absolutely filled. She was never going to have to buy anything for Matthew, she got it all today.

Hotch and Haley got her a babies bath essentials set. Her parents equipped her with every form of linen she would ever need for a baby, as well as a quilt made just for Matthew.

Penelope bought easily $400 in clothes for him over the past 7 months, with the promise of not stopping any time soon. Derek and Emily got together to buy them an all-terrain stroller, for the walks they expect them to take down the back roads. Emily’s girlfriend even brought a mom after-care set for her.

Diana’s gift made her cry the most, opening the box to find old copies of childhood books. “Those were all Spencers when he was a child,” she explained softly. “His love for the world started with those stories, I would like for Matthew to know them too.”

“Absolutely,” Y/N wiped the tears off her face, leaning over to hug her. “If Matty ends up being even half as wonderful as Spencer I’ll be grateful.”

“Spencer, did you get her anything?” Diana asked him softly as she was still mid embrace with Y/N.

“It’s in the garage,” Spencer smiled.

She looked at him with excitement, “you didn’t!”

“I might have,” he smiled.

“What?” Rossi asked, hating suspense more than anyone on the team.

“I was joking about wanting to get an SUV and become a soccer mom,” Y/N’s whole face lit up. “Did you get me a soccer mom mobile?”

He smiled back at her, “here.”

She held the key in her hand, her car was old as hell. She has had it since she moved to Virginia and even then it was a 2004 model. She had never had a new car, with the fresh car smell and clean everything!

“I am so overwhelmed,” she announced, bouncing a little in her seat as she shook her hands. Stimming just a small amount in front of everyone in all the excitement.

“We’re all done celebrating you now, I think we can start getting out of your hair, right guys?” JJ stood and pressured everyone that wasn’t relying on their house for the night, out the door.

Penelope helped Debbie and Diana clean everything up around the house. Peeling Henry and Chloe away from each other was the most difficult part of the night, becoming fast friends and wanting to look at books all night together in uncle Spencers library.

Rossi offered to let her brother Levi and his wife stay at his place while Diana and Y/N’s parents took the guest room in her home. Harrison and Faith driving back to Fort Meade to their own house.

—

Y/N and Spencer sat up in their bed, leaning against the headboard as they listened to the quiet of their house. Their co-workers were gone, their parents were settled in the guest rooms and most likely still awake from the time difference. The day had been so crazy that she barely had time to wrap her head around it.

“So…” Y/N cut the awkward silence. “Wanna make out?”

He laughed at her, shaking his head. “Remember the last time you asked me to do that?”

“Yeah, I lost my virginity,” she whispered back at him. A little scared that everyone could hear them talking.

“We can't,” Spencer looked at her with wide eyes. “It's bad enough my mother knows I’ve had sex once let alone possibly hearing us.”

He nudged him a little, crawling into his lap and sitting there softly. Her belly pressed against him, filling the space between them as she held his face in her hands.

“They’re on the other side of the house,” she pouted. “Just make out with me?”

He kissed her quickly once, “why are you so needy tonight?”

“All day I’ve had everyone's attention but yours,” she explained softly. “I missed you and I want my Spencer time.”

He couldn’t say no to that, because he felt the exact same way. He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips and finally resting them on her back. She ran her thumbs over Spencer's cheeks, looking at him softly as she tilted her head to really admire him.

His lips were perfect, his nose was adorable. The way his stubble grew in and darkened his jaw was amazing. His bone structure, his eye colour, the way his hair just fell flawlessly into place with 0 effort. She sighed as she looked at him.

“I love you,” she whispered, biting back a smile as she waited for his response.

“I love you,” he giggled as he looked right back at her. It almost felt more intimate than sex, just staring into each other's eyes in a dimly lit bedroom, in the middle of the night.

She ran her hands up into his hair, combing her fingers through it. He tilted his head back every time, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling. She was about to smile when she got a sharp shooting pain in her hips.

“Oh, my, god,” she breathed out. “Ouch?” She scrunched her face with the pain as the sharpness dulled into the bone, just feeling uncomfortable as she tensed up in his lap. She didn’t even realize she was tugging on his hair in response to the pain.

“What?” Spencer asked, concerned as all hell.

“I think that was Braxton hicks? It was like everything down there just lit up in pain,” she explained with a horrified look on her face.

He ran his hands softly over her hips, soothing the skin in an attempt to help. “Are they bad?”

“It just feels like a pinched nerve at first and then a dull ache, it’s not the worst. I don’t enjoy it that's for sure,” she laughed a little louder. “God, I hope he’s kind to me on the way out.”

“I was doing research into the best drugs and techniques for birth for mothers that don’t want any drugs either because they’re sober or they don’t want to be removed from the moment,” Spencer explained softly. “There are a lot of options if you want to look into them with me this week?”

“Of course you did,” she smiled at him once again, feeling a bit better. “We also have to pack the baby’s go-bag.”

Spencer laughed at the way she phrased it. “Isn’t it just a hospital bag and a diaper bag?”

“No, it’s a mission to have a baby. It’s a go-bag.”

They kept giggling with each other over the dumbest things, staring at smiling as they laughed. Spencer’s hands roamed her back while she poked his face. Happily just talking in each other's space about the most random shit.

It was what she loved the most about him, that they could equally ramble about what they found interesting and the other felt just as excited about learning something new. They had mutual respect for each other's interests and feelings that ran deeper than most, truly loving every word that left their partner's mouth.

By the time they settled against the pillows and attempted to sleep it was half 1 in the morning. They turned all the lights out and still just stared at each other.

She booped his nose softly with her own, watching him scrunch his face as a result before giggling again.

“Do you have any idea what the case tomorrow will be?” She was only asking because she wanted more time with him, needing to find every topic to bring up so that the night never ended.

“Mindy’s pitching something to us tomorrow again,” he whispered. “You’ll be good at this one.”

“Oh I’m excited now okay, goodnight,” she closed her eyes and pretended to snore, making him snuggle in and wrap her arms around him, pulling her in close the way they liked it.

“I love you, bunny,” he said one last time for the night.

She sighed as she settled into him, “I love you more Spence.”

[crhinge]

Breaking Down The Classic Rom-Com

I feel like I haven’t written a fun post in a hot sec so lets talk about one of my favorite subjects: Rom Coms

According to wikipedia, a Rom Com, also known as Romantic Comedy, is “a subgenre of comedy and slice-of-life fiction, focusing on lighthearted, humorous plot lines centered on romantic ideas, such as how true love is able to surmount most obstacles.” In the past, Romantic Comedies have also been called “Chick Flicks” but I think this is devaluing of both women and  the romantic comedy genre. 

The other day, I woke up to find that the most wholesome rom-com couple of all time reunited: Matty & Jenna (Aka Mark Ruffalo & Jennifer Garner). This got me thinking about the beauty of the Rom-Com and how unappreciated they can be. It has been years since we have seen a rom-com with the cultural impact of 13 Going on 30, and I would like to petition for more of them after a sad and painful year. 

I can already hear the millions (in my head this blog is extremely popular) of comments “What about To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before?!?” “What about The Kissing Booth?!?” And too that I say, "Good Riddance!” If you’re rating your rom coms on a TATBILB scale, or even WORSE The Kissing booth, I feel sorry for you. Truly I do. So let's dive into the best Rom Coms of all time, but first... 

What makes a Rom-Com good? Well let's start with a relatable as hell main character. I am talking a girl (sometimes guy), who has many flaws, but the audience can see themselves within her/him. Let's use Jenna Rink from 13 Going On 30 as an example. Well, she's literally a 13 year old in a 30 year olds body, but don’t we all still have a preteen hiding inside of all of us? She is 100% willing to be herself at every step, even if that means dancing thriller all alone. She touches on all of our insecurities, while teaching us how to break down our walls. 

Rom-Coms also need characters to make realistic choices. This does not mean that the movie itself is realistic, but rather than you can understand the choices the characters make. Again, 13 going on 30 does a fabulous job of this. Obviously, Jenna traveling in time because of wishing powder is not realistic, but the choices that her and her past self make are. Due to the insecurities of her childhood and a need to feel included, relevant, and powerful Jenna pushes important people out of her life, which happens to so many people in the real world. These decisions force her to miss out on the love of her life, and ultimately, the story ends sadly: the love of her life marries someone else and she is left with tears, wishing powder, and an old doll house. That is until she is able to travel back in time and change the course of her life. 

Lastly, Every classic Rom-Com couple needs to have chemistry. There. I said it. Hollywood loves just casting random famous actors without giving them a proper chemistry read. One great example of this is Julianne Hough and Josh Duhamel in Safe Haven. Both fun, famous, Hollywood actors who have zero chemistry. Mark Ruffalo and Jennifer Garner had more chemistry throwing back Razzles than those two did during an intimate sex scene. 

Alright, now that we have broken down the requirements of a Romantic Comedy, let's jump into the best and worst of all time.

Best: When Harry Met Sally. 9/10. A classic. A tale as old as time. Both Sally & Harry are very flawed, yet relatable characters. Sally is too picky and particular, while Harry is a player. They both suck at relationships, but make rational decisions based on their motivations. We all have friends like these two and their chemistry is on point, both on a friendship and romantic level. They bounce off of one another splendidly. 

Worst: Sleepless in Seattle. 1/10 I know, this is a strong take, but this is a terrible movie about a stalker. Meg Ryan (I don’t even remember her character's name) is the stupidest most unrelatable character I have seen in a long time. She is extremely unlovable, cheats on her SO emotionally, and flies across the country to stalk a man that she has never met before. And then you’re telling me that Tom hanks FALLS FOR HER? Nope. No. I refuse to except this. Plus, their chemistry in this is pretty mediocre (You’ve Got Mail is Way Better) and we only get to see them together once. 

Best: 10 Things I Hate About You. 8/10. I was tempted to leave all high School Rom-Coms off this list, but Heath Ledger is my exception. Talk about likability. Kat is a strong, powerful, independent woman who learns how to be more vulnerable while still being a feminist badass. We all wanted to be Kat growing up. Meanwhile Heath Ledger is the classic bad boy with a soft side, and who wasn’’t into that? Both characters grow into new people throughout the movie making them relatable, complex, and realistic. Not to mention the angel that is Joseph Gordon Levitt, who keeps the audience up beat and smiling throughout the course of this Shakespeare tale

Best: My Big fat Greek Wedding. 10/10.  Have you seen this film recently? Because it is an absolute DELIGHT and so relatable. It dives into the difficulty of family expectation and cultures merging. It also has the cutest proposal of all time with a realistic couple that fights for one another on a daily basis. You laugh. You cry. You get a dynamic cast with wonderful chemistry. You feel invested in the family and the relationship. Just a joyful wonderful film.

Worst: Something Borrowed. 0/10. If you’ve never seen this movie, don’t. Ginnifer Goodwin sleeps with her best friends fiancé and we’re supposed to be okay with it because she liked him first. Hard pass. And she ignores John Krazinski who is right in front of her. She is unlikable, unreliable, and makes dumb decisions that no one else would. 

Best: He’s just not that into you. 9/10  I will go to bat for this movie. It follows several realistic storylines in a Love Actually manor, except they actual seem legit. A woman realizing her boyfriend is never going to marry her. A girl facing the fact that maybe some guys just aren’t that into her, and she isn’t an exception to the rule. A man slowly making the decision to cheat on his wife as they are growing apart. A woman realizing that she is worth way more than her bastard husband. A woman realizing that the person she’s sleeping with will never leave his wife for her. It's compelling, has realistic characters that we can relate to, and still warms your heart in the end. 

Best: The Big Sick. 8/10. Okay to be fair, this is based on a true story so it automatically has realistic characters and decisions. Maybe I should leave this off of the list, but I wish this film got the recognition it deserves. Two lovable main characters who make mistakes that are understandable. Wonderful chemistry between Kumail and his girlfriend as well as her family. 

Best: About Time. 11/10 This is hands down the best Rom-Com of all time and Potentially the best film of all time as well. If you don’t cry in this movie you do not have a heart or soul. The characters are SO insanely likable and adorable.It touches on the importance of family and valuing time and how little of it we have. The chemistry within the whole cast is palpable, and we can all relate to at least one character, whether it is the protagonist Tim, his wife Mary, his sister Kit-Kat, or his father. 

Well it is important to point out the obvious here: this list is lacking diversity in a huge way. All but one of these movies follow a cis, straight, white couple, and that is extremely concerning. People have attempted to make more diverse rom-coms over the past few years, but they all seem to be lacking one of the three core components of what makes a rom-com great: Relatable, realistic, and great chemistry. For example. Crazy Rich Asians was a fantastic film, but the high level of wealth that Nick Young comes from, made his character difficult to relate to, and I’m sorry but the chemistry just wasn’t there for me. Always Be My Maybe’s characters fell flat and it’s not a film I would want to watch more than once. Love Simon made some huge waves for LGBTQ representation in the media, but that ending kiss was unrealistic along with his friends reaction to fining out he was lying, which left the movie anti-climactic by the end. 

Now, the most recent film on this list was made in 2017. And before that 2013. So where have all the Rom Coms gone? Why don’t we see more of them. There are a few Rom Coms that could be contenders on the “Best” list from the last couple of years that include a small amount of diversity: 

Yesterday 7/10. The big question here is does this count as a romantic comedy? The love story isn’t the main plot, but is definitely a large sub-plot. This movie features an interracial couple and is highly re-watchable. The main characters are entertaining, relatable, and have pretty good chemistry. We will see if it stands the test of time. 

The Broken Hearts Gallery 7/10. This movie has gotten NO recognition. The main character, Lucy, is an extremely likable 20 something, not unlike our Ginnifer Goodwin in He’s Just not that Into You. The plot is fun and predictable but keeps you watching. I don’t know if this one will stay on my list long, but it’s definitely up there. 

But here is my challenge to Hollywood: create some new, beautiful Rom Coms that celebrate diversity but that don’t throw away the relatable, realistic, and high chemistry characters that we are just waiting to fall in love with. It’s got like 16 ideas up my sleeve, so just give me a call Hollywood. 

[escxpedes]

loopholes

I haven’t written anything for a fictional couple in a very long time, much less obsessed over them. That being said, the show can only give me so much. I could write a thesis paper on why Angus Macgyver and Riley Davis belong with each other, but that’s for another time. I have this idea about writing macriley drabbles, oneshots, etc every day until they become canon. It’s a bit crazy, but let know if that’s something you’d be interested in. I have so many ideas, and my fingers are itching to write every single one. I’d like to thank @refinedbuffoonery because even though I don’t know you personally, your work inspired me to write and I couldn’t bring myself to even touch a word document (unless it was for class) until now. Please go easy on me, I’m a little rusty. I hope you guys like it! x

~

loop·hole noun | A loophole is an ambiguity or inadequacy in a system, such as a law or security, which can be used to circumvent or otherwise avoid the purpose, implied or explicitly stated, of the system

~

Riley finally moves into her new apartment, but struggles to adjust after the events of Codex and the realization of her feelings for Mac. When Mac finds her passed out over her keyboard after a late night of coding at Phoenix, he decides a talk is long overdue. Just some slightly angsty soft!macriley to help you cope with this season 5 hiatus. 

~

there is a love I reminisce, (like a seed i’ve never sown.)

There's a lot about Los Angeles that makes it home for Riley, but her new apartment doesn't exactly fall under the list. It's a quaint place, just big enough for her to live comfortably. It's only ten minutes from Phoenix Homebase, a couple of blocks from her favorite late-night pick me up, and she was able to negotiate the rent to a livable wage—always ask for more than you want, as Jack would have told her if he was there.

Although, she's pretty sure the negotiating tip is common knowledge.

Despite this, there’s something about the way the place feels that she can’t place. It’s not enough of a reason to stop her, though, so she takes a leap of faith and gives the grouchy landlord the required security deposit. 

Of course, when she finally gets around to mentioning it to the team, they insist on helping. She doesn't even try to dissuade them, already knowing they'll show up on moving day with extra boxes and a case of beer.

It takes several trips with Mac's truck and most of the day, but eventually, the echoing, empty rooms of her new abode are filled with boxes packed with belongings that probably aren’t labeled correctly. 

Everyone is hard at work before she can even put the last box down, and it fills Riley's heart with so much appreciation, it nearly knocks the air out of her. 

For the first time since she signed the lease, the apartment comes to life.

She watches as Matty scolds Russ for not reading the directions before putting together the desk she recently picked up from IKEA. She notices Bozer checking out the fridge, ranting to nobody in particular about good ventilation. She helps Desi unpack the kitchen, cracking open the beer and passing them out to everyone. 

Riley lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and for a moment, it almost feels like everything will be okay.

Then, she notices Mac scouring every inch of the place: checking the light fixtures, fiddling with all the faucets, making sure her locks work, always preoccupied with her and their team's safety.

It's such a familiar sight, something so undeniably Angus Macgyver, that it makes her heart both swell and clench at the same time.

Before Mac has the chance to ask where her air conditioner and heater are, just to make sure it has all the working components, Matty gathers everyone in the kitchen and proposes a toast.

It's endearing, and among all the excitement, Riley almost forgets why she dreaded moving out of Mac's house in the first place.

Almost.

It still lingers in the back of her mind, showing in the faltering smiles that she struggles to hold when the attention isn't on her.

She knows she should be grateful for her new place, grateful for an escape from the near-constant pressure building up since she recognized her feelings for Mac. 

This is an opportunity to move forward, to forget the way Mac's hand curled around hers in the presence of danger and instantly tamed her racing mind.

So far, she hasn't had any luck.

Before Riley knows it, and maybe before she's ready, the night is over, and slowly, everyone packs up their things and clears out. After all, they had to be up early in the morning, and the world isn't going to save itself.

Mac is the last to leave, prattling on about an untrustworthy screw in one of her ceiling fans and urging her to call him if something needs fixing.

She knows he's serious about it, knows that he'd answer in a heartbeat, no matter the time, place, or situation. His selfless nature is something some might consider a weakness, but to Riley, it's one of the many things she loves about him.

On the outside, she's the epitome of ease, full of soft smiles and effortless wit. On the inside, she wonders why it hurts more than it did before.

She knows why, but she's afraid to admit it.

When he pulls her into a hug, it feels like something inside her is breaking. Her lungs constrict, it's hard to breathe, but she refuses to let go. Instead, she buries her face into his neck and tries to commit the warmth and comfort she feels in his embrace to memory.

When she finally pulls away, because some things are just too much to bear, she swears she can feel the smallest reluctance in his movements.

When the door shuts behind him, the silence is deafening. It fills the room with the feeling of regret, and things left unsaid. Without the laughter and silly conversation as a consistent distraction, her mind goes into overdrive.

Although she can't stand the absence of sound, things like music and the pointless jargon of shitty late-night television only remind her of what she can no longer enjoy.

Or, moreover, what she can't enjoy with the people she wants to.

Glimpses of the past couple weeks surge forward before she can stop them; the feeling of being completely comfortable next to Mac while they watch the most recent episode of Rick and Morty, their shoulders brushing as they discuss possible endings and conspiracies.

Or when they ordered takeout after a failed attempt at something as simple as stir fry, although she can't help but admit that it was cute that he tried, her knees brushing his under the small dining table due to his tall frame.

Even annoying memories like being woken up at the crack of dawn to the sound of Mac building complicated machinery or adjusting something on his motorbike fill her with so much longing.

Living with Mac had felt so effortlessly right, but Riley couldn't fool herself anymore.

Of course, she knows that they could easily replicate the activities at either of their homes, and nobody would think anything of it. Something inside her thinks it's wrong somehow, that she's betraying Desi, or rather, the respect she has for her.

Not to mention, Mac is her best friend.

She would sooner go back to Supermax before entertaining the idea of ruining their friendship over something as silly as her feelings.

It's easier to remove herself from the equation, to add distance, and allow herself to heal and move on with her life. Unfortunately, moving on is easier said than done, but knowing that certainly doesn't make it hurt any less.

So, instead of turning in and spending the next several hours staring at the ceiling trying to figure out how she got into this mess, Riley plugs in her old coffee machine and double strains the coffee grounds for an extra-strong helping of caffeine.

Matty talked to her recently about upgrading the Phoenix’s firewall, and there's no time like the present to get started.

She sets up her new monitors, pushing the unwelcome reminder that throwing herself into her work is an unhealthy coping mechanism to the back of her mind.

Pouring herself a large cup of coffee and grabbing a warm blanket, she settles into her chair and stares at the bright screen of her desktop

It's going to be a long night. 

[allylikethecat]

I'm always rooting for Matty and George in every fic but honestly I hope Matty doesn't just take George back because George is making this grand gesture by flying to see him. Like their relationship hasn't been that healthy at all really and idk if they're actually good for each other right now? From Matty's perspective this must all be so confusing, George has been all over the place with icing him out at first, then being all over him, then throwing it all away and now he's just going to turn up unexpectedly? And there's all the emotions of losing George and now the prospect of losing Sally (writing that ad had to have been one of the hardest things he's done ph my GOD) I just want to hug him. I'm so excited to see where you take this story, I know whatever ending you go with will be amazing💙

AHHH Thank you so much for reading ATKH and taking the time to send me this ask! I'm so grateful that you're reading and for the continued support. You might be on to something here 👀

Fictional!George is very much into the IDEA of Fictional!Matty rather than fictional!Matty as a person and he's been getting jerked around emotionally as a result. Because Fictional!George was pretty awful to him to start, he was extremely cold and unwelcoming when Fictional!Matty was just looking for a friend (and lets not forget, he gave him bad information about a horse so that he would get bucked off which lead to him getting a concussion ... was it KARMA that that same horse was the one to break Fictional!George's shoulder?)

Then he was obsessed with Fictional!Matty and love bombed the shit out of him and didn't give him a moment to himself or take what he wanted into consideration and THEN instantly turned on him and accused him of stealing drugs.

Poor Fictional!Matty needs a hug, though not from Fictional!George and we will see how he reacts to Fictional!George showing up unexpectedly in CANADA after WEEKS of radio silence at a HORSE SHOW which Fictional!Matty had already expressed was going to be extremely nerve wrecking and stressful for him considering his history with showing- not to mention it's brutal physically (when I had Pop and Red I only brought both of them to one show once I was so tired after trying to show two horses - idk how the pros show MULTIPLE every day often times multiple in the same class! I am strictly a one horse per show girlie) and he was already having issues with his back again before he left...

You're 100% spot on though writing and posting that sale ad was one of the hardest things Fictional!Matty has ever done (it's up there with cutting ties with his mother and checking himself into rehab) and he is absolutely wrecked that he has to sell her, but doesn't have any other options. Despite being paid extra to be traveling this summer after the hauling fees / show fees for bringing Sally with him in the first place he has like four dollars in his bank account. He's borrowing money from his Dad for the plane ticket TO the UK, and he finished his blue raspberry vape ages ago but can't bring himself to throw it away. He is struggling.

Thank you SO MUCH for sending me this ask and for reading and the continued support and just being so all around lovely! I hope you continue to enjoy this fic and that you are having the best Sunday and a wonderful rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[purplesurveys]

1127

1. What is one thing you will never do again? Watch The Hours. Film itself is great, but is way too triggering.

2. Would you rather be twice as smart or twice as happy? I’d take happiness easily. It’s not bad for the most part to make mistakes and I’d rather be too clumsy than be altogether miserable.

3. What happened the last time you cried? It was the day of what would’ve been our anniversary and at that moment I was alone in my car at a parking lot (waiting for the office to open) on a gloomy day. I just had to cry and let my feelings out for like 5 minutes to accept everything but I was immediately fine afterwards, haha. Grief can be funny.

4. What happened the time in your life when you were the most nervous to do something? My first job interview. It was my first adult thing ever. They never got back to me - very professional of them - but I was still grateful for the experience nonetheless.

5. What would your parents be surprised to learn about you? That I was in a whole ass relationship for technically 6 1/2 years. They probably have an inkling by now, but only about me being in a relationship. I’m sure they would be very surprised if they ever found out how long it had actually gone for.

6. What’s your worst habit? I pick at my toenails when I’m nervous or stressed. I tend to do this when I’m doing a work task that I particularly dread, and sometimes I’ll end up being fixated on the habit for like 10 minutes straight and not get anything done.

7. What superpower would you have for one day? Time travel, just to take quick trips to multiple decades and see how life was like during those times.

8. What fictional character do you have the biggest crush on? Matty from 13 Going on 30 would be one of them. Albert Finney’s character in Two for the Road is also charming as fuck.

9. Where would you live if you could live anywhere in the world? If money wasn’t an issue, probably somewhere cozy in like Switzerland or Canada.

10. What is your most bizarre pet peeve? Not necessarily a pet peeve but I get extremely uncomfortable when someone hands me a gift then they insult the gift while in front of me, saying it’s not a great gift or that I probably don’t need it, etc. Filipinos also have this habit of saying something along the lines of, “You earn way more than me so you’d probably think this gift sucks” like how do you want me to react :(((((( I love receiving gifts and the idea of being thought about already means a lot to me, so it just makes me wince a little bit when I hear statements like the above.

11. Who knows you the best? Gabie, probably. I’ve changed a lot since then, though.

12. What after school activities did you do in high school? Clubs were mandatory extracurricular activities in my high school; in my time, I joined the table tennis and yearbook clubs.

13. What “most likely to” superlative would you be most honored to receive? Idk, we didn’t have those in school. I probably would have been honored to get a journalism-themed one though; something like Most Likely To Write for NYT or Most Likely to Win a Pulitzer or something like that. Obviously that’s changed now and I’ve long let go of journalism as a passion.

14. What’s the last book you really loved? I haven’t read in a long, long while.

15. What was the greatest television show of all time? I don’t watch a lot of TV so I’m not the most credible decision-making body for this lol, but out of all the shows I’ve watched the best one would easily be Breaking Bad.

16. What’s been your favorite age so far? 16. Life was insanely easygoing back then and everything fell into place for me at the time.

17. If you could go back in time, what is one piece of advice you would give your younger self? Know when it’s enough. Be kind to yourself.

18. What one thing would you be most disappointed if you never got to experience it? Have kids.

19. Apologize or ask permission? I don’t understand the relationship between the two.

20. Unlimited love or money? I would love to never have to worry about finances ever again.

21. If you knew you would die in one week, what would you do? Take a week-long leave for work, spend all my money, bond with my dogs, throw a party for my closest friends, and honestly, make my peace with her.

22. What’s your most listened to song? Spotify doesn’t show that feature, but I bet it’s from Paramore or Hayley anyway. It would be impossible to know my most-listened to song of all time, like if we took into account my Spotify, iTunes, etc.

23. Beach vacation or European vacation? I need a beach vacation badly, but a European vacation would be a new and different experience. I’d take the latter.

24. If you could have been a child prodigy what would you have wanted to be skilled at? Playing the piano.

25. What’s the first thing you would do if you won the lottery? Depends on how much I won lmao. I’d probably retire this early if the money was big enough since I’m pretty stingy anyway. But generally, I would like to pay off whatever bills my parents are currently paying for, get back the car that we had to sell because of the pandemic, and maybe go for a solo vacation or five heheh.

26. What celebrity would you trade lives with? Kylie Jenner, for a day. Just so I can briefly have a taste of how being that rich is like.

27. If you were a performing artist, what would you title your first album? Nope.

28. What story do your friends still give you crap about? Staying with Gab despite the red flags that glared for four whole years is one of them. Angela will also never let go of that one time I tried some kind of fruit juice in high school and I described it as ‘packs a punch.’ It’s understood as a super Westernized idiom where I live and literally no one uses it in a casual sentence, so it was a hit with her and now we use ‘packs a punch’ whenever we want to describe something awesome or surprising.

29. If earth could only have one condiment for the rest of time, what would you pick to keep around? Mayonnaise and I will die on this mayonnaise-coated hill.

30. What is the ideal number of people to have over on a Friday night? Ideally? At this point? Like 20. I would love for that to be the case on the first Friday we can consider the Philippines COVID-free.

31. What was the worst age you’ve been so far? Sorry for yet another incoming Paramore reference but they literally have a lyric that goes, “22 is like, the worst idea that I have ever had.” Before turning 22 I used to think it was a weird line, like how could 22 possibly be unenjoyable? Now I’m 22 in a pandemic going through a rough breakup and I can’t even see my friends nor work in my first workplace ever.

32. What is your weirdest dealbreaker? If they wanted only cats as pets. I can deal with a dog and a cat, I guess; but cats were never fond of me so I feel like I’d struggle with this situation lol.

33. What fictional character reminds you most of yourself? Mr. Peanutbutterrrrrrr. Has a lot of love to give, doesn’t always use it on the right people. Also lives on pleasing others.

34. Do you believe in karma? Just to a tiny extent, in how I would want people’s awful actions to come bite them in the ass one day. It’s not a philosophy that controls my life and the things I do whatsoever.

35. What was your favorite TV show as a kid? My absolute favorite was Hi-5, with the original cast. As I got older my interests shifted to Spongebob and The Fairly OddParents.

36. What is the weirdest thing you find attractive in a person? I don’t think it’s weird, but I don’t hear thighs too often when people list down their favorite physical traits. It’s certainly one of mine.

37. What Jeopardy! category would you clear, no problem? A Friends-themed one, obviously. This reminds me of the Jeopardy night I had with some friends a few nights ago! That was so much fun, and Andi makes really great and fun questions hahaha.

38. What is something you’re superstitious about? I don’t think I am about anything.

39. What is the scariest experience you have ever had? Maybe that night my grandpa went into a drunk rampage. I was 9, right in his line of sight, frozen and scared shitless, and I didn’t know who he was going to strike next.

40. Who is a non-politician you wish would run for office? I never really think about this. If someone’s a non-politician then there must be a reason they aren’t, lol.

41. What cheesey song do you have memorized? Little Things by One Direction is very cheesy and it’s one of my least favorite songs of theirs, but I still have it memorized out of habit.

42. What one dead person would you most like to have dinner with, if it were possible? My great-grandpa died all the way back in the 70s, even before some of my aunts and uncles could meet him. It would be cool to spend time with him.

43. Do you think it’s important to stay up to date with the news? Yeah, absolutely. I have the stomach for it lol, so I always monitor what’s happening locally and globally. Skipping the news from time to time is fine because I get how anxiety-inducing and depressing some events can be, but there’s a huge difference between ignoring the news for your mental health and being indifferent altogether. I’d immediately judge anyone who’s the latter, and would assume you are incredibly privileged.

44. What is the best present you could ever receive? My money refunded -____________- I had food delivered to my director, Bea’s house as a surprise earlier today, but apparently I ran into a scammer driver and the fucker drove away with the meal I had bought for Bea. I reported the driver and the situation, and thankfully the customer service rep of the food delivery app quickly responded and said they’d return the full amount I paid for; but I still haven’t received it.

45. Would you give up one of your fingers if it meant you’d have free wifi wherever you go, for the rest of your life? No. Mobile data exists for a reason.

46. What’s the first thing you’d do if you were the opposite sex for one day? Check out my voice.

47. If someone told you you could give one person a present and your budget was unlimited–what present would you get and for whom? I’d love to surprise Angela with an overseas trip that would last for like a month. Traveling is one thing we have yet to do as best friends.

48. What is the nicest thing someone could say about you? Nothing particular, but it makes me happy when people call me strong and when they validate the shit I’ve gone through over the years.

49. Giant house in a subdivision or tiny house somewhere with a view? I would take the giant house. When it comes to my own place, I would want to have a lot of space to roam around.

50. What is the weirdest quirk your family has? Nothing is coming to mind.

[macgyvermedical]

Soup: a “Tesla + Bell + Edison + Mac” Medical Review

“You have a perfectly functional syringe pump with the PCA in the background, and you’re going to give him an injection with a metal needle? Also, if you’re gonna sedate him you might as well use the IV pump too??? Like, you have a whole ‘nother channel?? Most floor nurses would kill for that setup?” <--- From my notes on this ep.*

Awl - X-Ray + Penny - Duct Tape + Jack - CD + Hoagie Foil - Guts + Fuel + Hope - Wilderness + Training + Survival - Father + Bride + Betrayal - Lidar + Rogues + Duty - Nightmares - Seeds + Permafrost + Feather - Friends + Enemies + Border - Mason + Cable + Choices - Bitter Harvest - Kid + Plane + Cable + Truck -

In case you didn’t see it, the story went like this: After being knocked unconscious trying to prevent Codex from stealing an encoded map to a Tesla-era WMD, Mac wakes to find he’s lost certain memories of the event that are crucial to interpreting the weapon’s location. In order to recover the memories and stop Codex from getting there first, Matty calls on a friend at DARPA who studies experimental memory-recovery drugs. Drugged, Mac enters a dream state to track down the memories, where he encounters his mother, a man he recently chose to kill to save everyone in LA, his high-school bully, and a darker version of himself who thinks Codex’s directive to kill an eighth of the population to save the world might not be too far off the mark.

So there’s a lot to talk about here medically. For this post, I’ll go into the concussion and its aftermath, the drug and it’s administration, and the medical technology that the Phoenix infirmary seems to have at its disposal.

The Concussion/Amnesia:

Mac is knocked out by a blow to the head. He wakes up “a few hours” later in the Phoenix infirmary. I’ve talked about concussions before (see here, here, and here), so I’m not going to go into too much detail about them in this post, but essentially if someone’s out for that long, they’re in trouble.

It’s reasonably common to lose consciousness in a concussion, but it’s usually only for seconds to minutes, and if it occurs at all, that person needs prompt medical evaluation in an emergency room. Even if there ends up being no major complications, like bleeding in the brain or an increase in pressure in the skull, the recovery time for concussions with a loss of consciousness can be in the weeks or months range. Someone who’s out for “hours” is looking at a stay in a neuro ICU and probably severe and possibly permanent brain damage. Like, it’s a season-long arc at least.

Since we’re not seeing that level of medical need, I think it would probably be safe to assume that Mac wasn’t actually out for “hours” as stated. He could have been briefly unconscious, as shown in the house attack scene, but then had trouble forming memories after that, which caused him to not remember the ride back to Phoenix very well, if at all. These are still concerning enough symptoms that I would have taken him to an emergency department instead of to the infirmary, but at least with that scenario there’s a possibility what happened to him isn’t actively life threatening outside of a neuro ICU.

Unlike the extended period of unconsciousness, the portrayal of amnesia isn’t far off the mark for once. The amnesia that Mac suffers is actually pretty reasonable- trouble remembering the incident and the events just before it is common in head injuries, as is having trouble forming new memories after. Not only is accurate amnesia something that I didn’t expect out of Rob Pearlstein (writer of the infamous Guts + Fuel + Hope), but it’s something that fiction as a whole (including, I’ll admit, 1985 MacGyver**) tends to struggle with. So kudos for that specific part of this episode, Pearlstein.

The Drug:

Even if we assume Mac wasn’t unconscious that whole time, the brief unconsciousness and memory problems indicate that he still had a pretty significant concussion that needed medical care and monitoring. I’m guessing that as advanced as the Phoenix Infirmary is, it doesn’t have the capacity to do neurosurgery or intracranial pressure monitoring. That means the Phoenix medical team’s priority in this situation would essentially be to catch any major, life-threatening complication as early as possible, and if one happened, get Mac to a hospital quickly enough to save him.

The best and lowest-tech tool they have to this end is repeated mental status exams. Mental status exams have the patient answer a series of questions like “what’s your name?” “what day is it?” “where are you right now?” “what happened to you/why am I asking you these questions?”  followed up with a series of mental tasks like counting backwards from 100 by 7s or making a logical decision based on a given scenario. If Mac’s answers significantly change, from one assessment to the next, that could mean he’s in trouble. 

Because these assessments rely so heavily on Mac’s ability to answer questions and perform tasks accurately, and they’re really the only thing that’s going to catch a serious problem early enough to save Mac’s life, the last thing you’d want to do is give him a drug cocktail that would alter his perception of where he is and what’s going on around him. I’ll just… leave that there.

But let’s assume that for some reason they have a non-CT way of assessing whether Mac’s about to die from a brain bleed while in a drug-induced dream state (they do appear to have limited EEG capability- can anyone tell me if this would still be helpful in the context of the drugs?). I’m not going to talk too much about the drug cocktail itself, since it was stated as fictional (so, essentially, anything they say it does it can probably do), but since they do reference it as containing DMT, I invite you to check out the erowid experience vault for DMT for stories of other people’s experiences with it.  

I will, however, talk a little about the administration of the drug. In the episode, a syringe with a needle is used to deliver the medication. Though not explicitly shown, I assume Dr. Cheryl inserted the metal needle into one of Mac’s arm veins and injected the drug.

Something that fiction generally doesn’t understand is that inserting a metal needle into a vein in order to administer medication doesn’t happen in a medical setting. Ever. The ONLY way to administer a medication IV in a medical setting is through an IV cannula- a short, flexible plastic tube inserted into a vein, often just colloquially called an “IV”:

If Mac had one of these ^^^, the syringe could attach to one of the blue and white pieces and the medication could be injected without worrying that the needle could slip out of the vein (many IV medications must be injected slowly over several minutes, and that’s a long time to hold a needle still).

Before Dr. Cheryl gives him the drug, she takes his vitals and asks him some questions, namely whether he has ever had “a psychotic break”, then, without explaining further, asks if he thinks he will become violent.

Now, it does make sense to ask someone about their psych history when administering a drug known to have psych side effects, because those can be a lot worse or more likely for people with certain psych histories. Think about SSRIs and SNRIs- they’re good antidepressants, but when given to someone with bipolar disorder, they can greatly increase the risk of a manic episode, and that possibility has to be evaluated before the drug is prescribed.

The conversation should have started with Dr. Cheryl asking everyone else to leave the room. Asking if someone has ever experienced psychosis in front of their coworkers, is not only a serious breach of patient privacy, but could also be incredibly dangerous. If Mac had experienced psychosis, but didn’t want his coworkers to know, he’d either have to lie and risk side effects without being able to prepare, or feel pressured to release that medical information and possibly risk his job or reputation***.

Then she’d ask something to the effect of “have you ever been diagnosed with a mental illness, been hospitalized for a mental health reason, or do you take any medications for a mental health problem?” And if the answer to that question was anything that would make the drug particularly dangerous to him, she’d probably tell him the risks and her assessment that it was a bad idea to proceed.

If there was no other option for some reason (I’d argue not the case in this situation), she’d tell him what the risks were, and only then would she possibly have to ask if he knew he might become aggressive, at which point they’d come up with how he’d like her to handle that possibility.

I know it’s not quite as snappy, but I would have really liked to see it.

Plus, unless it’s been asked off screen, Dr. Cheryl hasn’t asked him if he has any other health problems, if he takes any medications, or if he has any allergies, all of which could significantly impact how safe this drug could be for Mac.

Phoenix Infirmary Medical Tech

Now let’s look at some of the bits and pieces in the background of the episode. Particularly, I wanna talk about that chair, the IV pump, and the monitor.

So, chair first- it’s a dentist’s chair. It’s good for dental things and maybe some minor procedures (we have a slightly different chair in a doctor’s office I work at- we use it for things like implanting birth control, removing warts and moles, and providing wound care), but it’s not great for anything else. It’s especially not great if you have to sit there longer than a half hour. Considering we know from previous episodes that they have a full-on hospital bed somewhere at their disposal and possibly a couple of carts (narrower beds you see in the emergency department), I gotta say it makes literally no sense to put the guy who’s unconscious from a head injury in the procedure chair.

Next, the IV pump

We talked above about administering medications “IV push”- a medication “pushed” through an IV by a syringe, one dose at a time. Another way to give IV medication or fluids is via an IV drip or “piggyback”- the medication is diluted in a bag of saline or other IV fluid, and set to continuously run into a person’s IV. These are nice for doses of IV medication that have a lot of volume (like IV antibiotics) medication that wears off quickly and may need constant adjustment (like some kinds of sedation or some types of pain medication or medications that counteract shock), or just straight up IV fluids.

IV pumps control how fast the medication or fluid goes from the bag into the person. You can vaguely control this without a pump using gravity, a drip chamber, and a roller clamp, but if you need to know precisely how many milliliters of medication/fluid per hour is getting into a person, and you didn’t start your nursing career in the 1970s, you need a pump.

The one pictured above specifically consists of a central computer box (colloquially called a “brain”) where the pump rate can be programmed, flanked by interchangeable modules that each do a slightly different thing. The modules on the pump in the episode include an infusion pump, which essentially just pumps fluid from a bag hanging above it into a person, and a PCA pump. A PCA pump holds a syringe of medication (usually pain medication) and delivers a dose of it when the patient presses a button.

Honestly I think the whole things is just chillin’ in the background making the room look medical-y, but they really could have used it to continuously administer the drug or the sedation if they’d really wanted to incorporate it.

Side note, the modules are actually kind of heavy, so you have to balance them a little or the whole thing kinda tilts (see the screenshot from the episode). Also, for some reason if you stick an infusion module on the same side as a PCA module, the brain won’t recognize it half the time. Not sure if it’s a feature or a bug. Below is how someone who has ever once used one of these things would have set it up:

The other thing they have in the episode, and the last thing I’ll talk about before I let you get back to your life (I’m sure your cat misses you by now, mine sure does), is the monitor. 

I read several user manuals for this (real) monitor system in preparation for this post. I’ve concluded that it’s way, way above my med-surg pay grade, and usually used in operating rooms by anesthesiologists to monitor sedation level (so at least in theory they could be using it correctly? I’m as shocked as you are, really). I don’t even know what half those numbers mean (beyond the SpO2, heart rate, and respiratory rate), more than just being able to say they (surprisingly) do actually reflect real monitoring options on this thing. This leads me to believe this may be some kind of weird product placement thing? As if the gratuitous use of the Toyota backup cameras weren’t oddly forced enough.

Now, beyond the fact that this is a wildly high-tech, completely overkill machine for what is happening in the episode, the thing I would like to impress upon you is that regardless of the high tech-ness, every line on a monitor requires at least some attachment to the patient. Something measuring an EKG requires at least 3 leads on the patient. Something measuring oxygen saturation and pulse requires a clip on an ear or finger. Something measuring blood pressure requires a blood pressure cuff. Something measuring temperature usually means a probe somewhere the sun don’t shine. Mac has two little leads on his forehead. That is actually hilarious. He’d be covered in wires. He would have so much adhesive stuck to him.

In case you’re wondering, the heart/lungs/brain/person outline picture on the monitor just tells you how each part of the body is doing- like, the brain will turn yellow and then red if something starts going weird with the brain-related monitoring, same with the heart and lungs. It took an insane amount of searching to figure that out. I’ve been writing this post for 4 days now.

 *I had a much longer and rant-ier intro to this but I feel like I’ve complained enough on main about how the reboot dumbed down and politically neutralized an extremely opinionated and hardline character. I do really like this show, and the storylines are really interesting, but I need you all to understand how science-based and politically charged the original one was, especially in later seasons. You had such a platform for good here, CBS, and I’m hoping against hope the generic-action-show it’s become was some kind of weird, collective misunderstanding and not a censor problem. My main problem, having finished writing this post, is that he looks really weirdly good for someone who was unconscious with a head injury and then subjected to what was another few hours unconscious and hallucinating. Like, his shirt is still tucked in. Great update to the theme song, though.

**Twice. They played the bourne-style-amnesia storyline twice.

***At this point I can only recommend you watch the 1985 MacGyver Season 7 episode “Obsessed”- it’s a ridiculous-criminal-plot episode but the undertones are all anti-ableist (both criticizing the Phoenix Foundation board of directors’ ableism in assuming Pete is no longer fit to do his (desk) job after he loses his sight, and the pressure Pete himself is under to let MacGyver go because of mental health symptoms).

[traincat]

I've just read that post on bridges in TASM films, and it reminded me: Before the Spider-verse comic event, Gwen Stacy was essentially the Lost Lenore of Comics. Now Spider-Gwen is popular enough that her fans, and probably younger generations would balk at the idea of Gwen dying. I'm aware that you're a fan of The Night Gwen Stacy Died story, so I hope this doesn't come off as judgmental: It's a major part of the main Spider-Man comics, but does it NEED to be part of general narrative?

This is something I do think about a lot actually because, as you’ve said, it’s pretty well known I’m a fan of The Night Gwen Stacy Died (or a Gwen Stacy deathfucker as some of my friends have delicately and tactfully put it), but I’m also a fan of Gwen, and additionally as a woman who loves big two superhero comics I do think it’s important to consider the treatment of women within that particular media. So I don’t think this question is rude at all, and I think it’s an interesting thing to debate and to talk over. As famous female characters deaths go, Gwen’s is definitely up there, and it is a storyline I personally love and have a lot of feelings about, because, to put it simply, I love a well-done fictional tragedy. I find a lot of the rhetoric around this death to be iffy – Gerry Conway’s own statement that Gwen died because she as a “non-entity”, as compared to the current hyping up of Spider-Gwen as the “Gwen we’ve always needed”, which seems to imply that it was Gwen’s own fault that she died for not being an interesting enough character, or that Gwen is only a valuable or relatable character if she herself has superpowers or is leading a book. There’s a lot to unpack here, no matter what your stance is. I think it’s particularly telling that Gwen’s death is very up there with, say, the deaths of Jason Todd or Bucky Barnes, and yet Gwen, as a female character, does not get a violent “return from the dead” vengeance storyline along the lines of Red Hood or Winter Soldier. Even the recent reframing of Gwen Stacy-65 as Ghost Spider is totally divorced from this subject, despite the fact that the name alone seems to tease the idea of Gwen, back from the dead. The fact that even with Gwen’s resurgence in popularity following The Amazing Spider-Man franchise’s portrayal of her still doesn’t mean she gets a revenge saga the way young and tragically at one time dead male characters do is I think very telling. (I could write the hell out of a Red Hood-esque Gwen Stacy revenge murder miniseries, I am just saying, Marvel.)

But to go back to the question at hand, if I’m being a hundred percent honest, I think that to keep a version of Peter in line with his 616 character development, he needs to suffer a loss of this magnitude at this particular point in his life. Personally, I don’t think that loss needs to be Gwen, but within the adaptation that is being told I think it needs to be of equal weight and importance to what 616 Gwen meant to 616 Peter. Gwen traditionally only ever gets spoken about as his girlfriend, but if you look at the period of comics surrounding her death, it becomes abundantly clear that Peter and Gwen were planning to get married shortly before her death, which adds a certain amount of weight to the relationship that simply referring to her as his girlfriend doesn’t lend:

(Amazing Spider-Man #99)

(Amazing Spider-Man #103)

Additionally, for me, I think it’s important that Gwen’s death isn’t just a one and done – she’s dead and it means something, both to Peter and to the rest of the cast that knew her. The definition of fridging is when a woman is killed for a man’s emotional development, true, but I think a key issue is that often when a woman is fridged there isn’t much emotional development when you actually look at the text. The man is sad but then he moves on, and maybe it comes up when he gets into a new relationship with a different woman because he needs to angst about how she can’t end up just like Poor Dead Previous Girlfriend. But I think Gwen’s death has a real weight in the series. She’s not a non-entity; her absence matters. I once saw a post about how Gwen’s death didn’t really have an effect on Peter and I think about it all the time over how incredibly wrong it was:

(Amazing Spider-Man #127)

(Amazing Spider-Man #136)

(Spider-Man & Black Cat: Evil That Men Do #6)

(Webspinners #12)

So this is a loss that deeply  and consistently haunts Peter and not one he ever fully recovers from. It’s a loss with very lasting impact, like I said, not just for him, but for other people who knew Gwen.

“How lovely she was! What a wonderful couple she and made! I hoped we’d friends for life!” – Amazing Spider-Man #365

“Gwen was our light.” – Spectacular Spider-Man #250.

“She fell… and, in a sense – we all fell with her.” – Spectacular Spider-Man #200.

“Peter… loved Gwen. I loved Gwen! She was a good person.” – Spectacular Spider-Man #180

“Maybe because she knew Gwen, and was also friend.” – Amazing Spider-Man #509

Roughly speaking, I would say that to keep Peter on track with his 616 character development, the loss needs to be of a person in a serious and committed romantic relationship with Peter. The circumstances need to be duplicated, in my opinion, to track with 616 Peter’s development, but Gwen doesn’t necessarily have to be the character that dies. I personally have several WIP AUs where I’ve subbed out Gwen in this role for Harry; combined with Harry’s drug addiction and Peter’s natural protectiveness, as well as Norman’s role in this particular murder, it makes for a very interesting version of events. This sounds like I’m framing things around the man, but Spider-Man comics are a story about Peter, and so what Peter feels can’t be discounted from the story, and I do feel Peter needs to feel deeply about this. There are a lot of Spider-Man female characters death I feel very negatively about: Mattie Franklin, Ashley Kafka, Marla Jameson, Jean DeWolff, to name a few. But I feel negatively about them in part because if you’re going to kill a character, it should majorly impact the story and the main character. Gwen’s death does that in a way that the character deaths listed above don’t. In my opinion, if you’re going to kill an established character, it should matter beyond the story they die in. For me that’s a big part of what separates a character death I enjoy from I don’t.

At the end of the day, I think loss is built into Spider-Man as a story at its core. Look where everything starts: Peter, an established orphan, losing his uncle to violence. Right from the very beginning, we have an established loss. Then those losses add up: his parents, Uncle Ben, George Stacy, Gwen Stacy. Later, Harry Osborn, his and Mary Jane’s child, his clone Ben Reilly. Loss is embedded into the story on such a deep level that I think when you remove it, you ultimately remove Spider-Man’s identity itself, which has always been part of my complaint about the total refusal to even reference Uncle Ben within Spider-Man: Homecoming. And while I may love The Amazing Spider-Man 2′s retelling of The Night Gwen Stacy died as an adaptation, I also totally understand why some people might not want to watch a movie that ends in a young woman’s brutal death. As much as I joke that everyone deserves a version of their favorite problematic comics death, I also know not everybody wants that, or even has a favorite comics death scene. But when it comes to Spider-Man as a story and a narrative, I do think loss is an important piece of the puzzle. Take it away, and you end up with a less meaningful and human story. So no, ultimately, as much as I love the original scene in part because it’s so painful and haunting, I don’t think you need to kill Gwen to insure a 616-esque character development and emotional journey for Peter, but I do think you need to have him suffer a loss of the same magnitude if you’re invested in keeping the character on the same or on a similar track. But those are just my personal feelings on the story, and I do feel this is a topic where personal feelings are a make or break king of deal, and that not everyone is a slut for fictional tragedy, so I think this is very much a case that’s up to personal interpretation.

[ladyherenya]

Books read in July

After I read How to Find Love in a Bookshop, I searched the library’s catalogue for other titles containing “bookshop” or “bookstore”. I was curled up in bed with a bad cold at the time, which meant I ended up choosing a bunch of books whose covers or synopses would have, on a different day, put me off. And that worked out rather well!

But afterwards I felt like I didn’t get the right balance between contemporary fiction and fantasy this month.

Favourite cover: Minor Mage by T. Kingfisher.

Still reading: The Hazel Wood by Melissa Albert.

Next up: Mort by Terry Pratchett. Maybe The Queens of Innis Lear by Tessa Gratton.

(Longer reviews and ratings are on LibraryThing. And also Dreamwidth.)

– (they’ve taken away page breaks) –

Things a Map Won’t Show You: stories from Australia & Beyond, edited by Susan La Marca and Pam Macintyre: I borrowed this because I recognised some of the names involved. I liked bits and pieces of it but nothing really stood out. Maybe Peta Freestone’s “Milford Sound”, for the setting. According to the introduction, the stories and poems were chosen “with the curriculum in mind and for their appeal to Year Seven and Eight readers”. That’s a valid reason but I suspect that approach is unlikely to result in a collection that would really appeal to me, not me now and not even when I was a young teenager.

A Thousand Sisters: The Heroic Airwomen of the Soviet Union in World War II by Elizabeth Wein: This is AMAZING. It is aimed at young people, and I wondered if I’d find the writing style too simplistic, but it was just remarkably accessible. I knew bits about Russia’s history but this gave me a much more comprehensive understanding of the culture and politics these women grew up with, and how Russia came to have three regiments of airwomen at a point in time when other countries wouldn’t let women fly into war. The rest of the book is just as fascinating and surprising. Wein knows how to tell a story.

How to Find Love in a Bookshop by Veronica Henry: This is about Emilia, who inherits her father’s bookshop in a picturesque Cotswold village, and the bookshop’s customers. It doesn’t shy away from Emilia’s grief but otherwise is very much a cosy, optimistic story in which friends are made, relationships are mended, mistakes are overcome and everything turns out all right. Which definitely has its appeal. I wanted just a few more sharp edges -- or else slightly more uncertainty -- so that everyone’s happy endings felt more realistic. (I keep brainstorming ways that could have been managed.) Although I didn’t love this book, there was a lot I liked about it. 

The Masquaraders by Georgette Heyer (narrated by Ruth Sillers): This is ridiculous but still quite entertaining. Either I missed something or Heyer doesn’t really do a great job of explaining why Prudence and her brother Robin need to be in disguise, nor why they’ve decided the best way to do this is by crossdressing. The key to enjoying this book was to just roll with it. Also Prue’s romantic interest is a type Heyer writes so well: perceptive, unflappable, competent, with a sense of humour and an appreciation for level-headedness in others. Sensible people pushed into madcap adventures is something Heyer has a flair for.

The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle: It’s much more dreamlike than I was expecting, in a similar vein to Patricia A. McKillip’s fantasy. I was emotionally invested only in flickers and bursts, but I appreciated the way it plays with, and comments on, fairytales. Quests may not simply be abandoned; prophecies may not be left to rot like unpicked fruit; unicorns may go unrescued for a very long time, but not forever. The happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story.

The Bookstore by Deborah Meyler: Esme, a British scholarship student studying art history at Columbia, discovers she’s pregnant and gets a job at a quirky secondhand bookshop. I would have found some of her choices -- and the book itself -- terribly frustrating, except I really liked the bookshop and Esme’s narration. I liked her quotes and references and her enthusiasm and her observations, especially those about living in New York and about the shop -- this is a story with a vivid sense of place. Esme’s naivety and optimism is both understandable and believable, and I wanted to see her finally, properly, free of her awful boyfriend. 

The “Happy Ever After Bookshop” books by Annie Darling:

The Little Bookshop of Lonely Hearts: If I hadn’t already read the second book about the Happy Ever After bookshop and liked it a lot, I probably wouldn’t have bothered reading this. The romantic interest annoyed me -- he’s not a bad match for Posy, but I’d find him infuriating in person and I didn’t want to read about him. Fortunately the book is just from Posy’s POV. I enjoyed the Britishness, and the bits about running a bookshop. I particularly liked Posy’s relationship with her younger teenaged brother, whom she has responsibility for. And I was pleased the romance bookshop stocks appropriate YA and mystery titles.

True Love at the Lonely Hearts Bookshop: I was expecting it to turn into the sort of romance which annoys me. To my delight, it did not! Verity loves her noisy family, her nosy friends, her job in a bookshop and reading romances but she believes she isn’t suited to being in a romantic relationship. She reluctantly agrees to a fake-dating situation to avoid friends trying to set her up. I loved the way this story shows Verity being an introvert, and her obvious love for Pride and Prejudice. And this has all the things I like about fake-dating without too much cringe-worthy deception.

Crazy in Love at the Lonely Hearts Bookshop: I have less in common with Nina than I do with her colleagues: she’s into make-up, tattoos and Wuthering Heights. But it was interesting seeing why she’s embraced both Wuthering Heights and her own particular style so fiercely -- she’s finding her own path, one that differs from what her conservative working class family expected. Some of the resolutions came about a bit too easily. However, I liked getting a different perspective on the bookshop, I enjoyed bits of her romance with Noah, and I share some of Nina’s fascination with the Bronte sisters.

A Winter Kiss on Rochester Mews:  Mattie runs the tearooms attached to the Happy Ever After bookshop. She is delighted about living above the bookshop, but not so impressed about her new flatmate. I’m not a fan of the crazy commercialism of Christmas, but really enjoyed reading about it here -- probably because the story recognises that not everybody loves it. And, given the weather, I was in the mood for something wintry. Other things I liked: the vivid portrayal of the challenges of working “in a customer-facing environment over Christmas”; the details about Mattie’s baking; and the intelligent commentary about romance novels and romantic relationships.

Allegra in Three Parts by Suzanne Daniel: Eleven year old Allegra lives with one grandmother, next door to the other, while her father lives in above the garage. Allegra knows her grandmothers love her, but they are very different. “Sometimes I wish they could just love me less and take what's left over and put it into liking each other a little bit more.” The initial mystery and conflict were slightly stronger than the answers and aftermath. But it’s an interesting portrayal of growing up in Sydney in the 70s, the women’s liberation movement, and of a family dealing with grief. I read it in practically one sitting.

We Rule the Night by Claire Eliza Bartlett (narrated by Chloe  Cannon): Revna’s father is a traitor. Linné’s father is a general. Revna is discovered protecting herself with illegal magic during an air-raid. Linné is discovered after three years fighting at the front disguised as a boy. They’re both sent to a new women’s Night Raiders regiment, where, if they are to survive this war, they have to learn to fly together. This is tense and captivating -- and nuanced. Magic is wondrous but also confronting, the Union is unjust but contains things worth defending, loyalties are not always predictable, difficult people can become valued friends, and not everything is neatly resolved.

The Way Past Winter by Kiran Millwood Hargrave: In the fifth year of winter, Mila and her sisters wake to find their brother has left. Sanna believes Oskar left them willingly, like their father once did, but Mila is convinced that Oskar was taken by last night’s unsettling visitors -- and is determined to rescue him. I didn’t find this as emotional and compelling as Hargrave’s previous books. I don’t know if that’s because this is a simpler narrative or because I didn’t listen to the audio book -- a good narrator adds liveliness and emotion. But Hargrave’s prose is lovely and I liked the fairytale quality this story has.

Grace After Henry by Eithne Shortall: I really enjoyed Love in Row 27, so I borrowed Shortall’s other novel. After her boyfriend dies, Grace keeps seeing him everywhere. Then she meets a man who looks unnervingly like Henry -- a long-lost relative of Henry’s she did not know about. This story is funny and touching. I didn’t expect it to be so compelling, nor make me so invested in Grace’s relationship with Henry. There’s a strong sense of history and of place -- it was interesting to read about contemporary Dublin. There are unexpected and hopeful developments in Grace’s life. But mostly, it’s just very sad.

Famous in a Small Town by Emma Mills: Sophie loves her friends, her high school’s marching band and her small town. She has an idea for how the band could raise money -- enlisting the help of a famous country singer. I liked Sophie’s deep sense of belonging and how much she cares about things. She’s very kind in a way that is realistic and realistically complicated. Her friends are very supportive, but believably so. They all have flaws and make mistakes and have their secrets. I really enjoyed this story about friendship and summer (and it was a good choice after reading something sad).

Can’t Escape Love by Alyssa Cole: I’ve tried a couple of Cole’s novels and they didn’t appeal to me -- I wouldn’t have considered this novella if I hadn't seen a positive review. It’s fun and fandom-y and diverse. Reggie contacts an old internet acquaintance after she discovers his puzzle livestreams are no longer online. I liked how it’s very clear that Reggie’s disability has a significant impact on her daily life, but has nothing to do with her current problems. And, for Gus, being autistic isn’t ever an obstacle to a relationship with Reggie. I would have liked to read more but this still satisfying.

The Orphans of Raspay, a novella in the World of the Five Gods by Lois McMaster Bujold: Penric’s ship is captured by pirates and he is thrown in a hold with a couple of young girls from Raspay. As always, I enjoyed Pen’s interactions with Desdemona. I would have enjoyed the story even more had there been more significant character interactions -- the girls aren’t quite old enough to play a very active role in escape plans but are old enough that, in terms of emotional support, they’re not very demanding. I’d like to see Pen challenged more. But this is still a solid adventure. I’m very glad that Bujold hasn’t finished telling stories about Pen and Des.

Minor Mage by T. Kingfisher (Ursula Vernon): Oliver, a twelve year old minor mage with an armadillo familiar, is sent by his village on a perilous journey to the mountains to bring back rain. There’s some dispute over whether this is a children’s book -- Vernon thought it was, her editor was adamant it wasn’t. It feelslike a children’s book to me, even when Oliver has to deal with ghuls, bandits and murderers. (There have always been children’s books which have been too dark and scary for some kids.) The tone is dryly humorous, the armadillo is a delight and I never doubted that Oliver would succeed.

[sorryjustafangirl]

it’s a love story

a/n:  this is my submission for the @doubleminor​’s #hockeychallengemusic ! im so so super late but i finally had the time to write this. the toronto six of the nwhl have this as their winning song and i loved watching them celebrate this season. and apparently all i can write is matty tkachuk but i felt he really fit this idea

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x reader

Work count: 2.2k+

warnings: mentions of the pandemic and one swear but other than that just fluff :)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and real person fiction if you don’t like that, please don’t read! also the gif isn’t mine! all credit to the fantastic gif-maker!

prompt: choose an official team/player goal song and make something using that goal song // found here 

He had wanted the proposal to be perfect. The moment he knew you were the one he wanted to marry, he asked your best friend for everything you had ever mentioned about a proposal. You were only going to get proposed to once, and he wanted to make sure it was perfect. 

Secluded, yet meaningful, place? Check. 

Get it on camera? Check. 

Cute outfit with nails done? Check. 

But a global pandemic was not in his plan. Not even close. 

When the season had got put on pause, his parents suggested he come back to St. Louis to spend time with them, since Brady was coming back too. He was hesitant to go considering you were still going into the office for an essential project, but you assured him that he should go spend time with his family. He didn't get to see them a lot, and you knew he missed them. When he packed, he made sure to take the little velvet box and shove it between his socks. He didn't want to risk you finding it while he was away. 

A couple weeks later, after many FaceTimes and virtual date nights, you finished your project and work gave you the all clear to work from home. A two week quarantine and one plane ride later, you had joined him in St. Louis. You were still working, but working from the Tkachuk's home and with your boyfriend was much better than working alone in your shared apartment. 

Since you had joined the family, Taryn had noticed her oldest brother was a little jumpier than usual. Before, he was more carefree, aside from the occasional moping, and he definitely wasn't making sure his bedroom door was closed whenever he went in there alone. But now? It seemed odd. He wasn't moping, but he had those moments when he seemed too sad for it just to be about the season.  

So after Matthew's third sigh and retreat to his room while you were working, she decided it was time for an intervention. She quietly followed him to his room, where he methodically closed it and made sure it clicked. 

***

It was the second time today Matthew had looked at the box today. He knew he was torturing himself, opening the box to look at the ring he had picked out. It wasn't too flashy, something just your style. He remembered the way his heart jumped when he saw it in the store. It instantly reminded him of you and he just knew it was the one. It was like he couldn't help himself, looking at the box another time.

You could’ve already been engaged by now. The two of you could’ve been looking at venues and dates and even if he said he never really cared about that stuff… he couldn’t help but long for those things, because it would mean it was real. The two of you would be getting married, and he’d get to be your husband. 

But instead of being engaged, he’d just have to stare at the ring and wish he could make this all go away so he could give you the proposal you’ve always wanted. He relived the time he knew you were the one, anything to remind him that you wouldn’t mind waiting until this pandemic was over to get engaged. 

It was a home game against the Senators. Nothing speculator, just a regular game that they unfortunately lost in OT. Because it was against the Sens, and because he scored the only goal of the game, Matt knew he’d be chosen for press. He was tired, and there was nothing he wanted more than to see his family who had made the trek out to Calgary to see the boys play. He left the dressing room with his tie a little crumpled from the rush to meet them. 

He turned the corner to see Taryn sitting on a bench, with Brady standing with his parents, probably cracking a joke based on the way his mom was playfully glaring at Brady while his dad laughed loudly. His mood picked up a little after the interview and the loss.

As he got closer, he realized that Taryn wasn’t sitting alone. You were sitting there, your head resting against her shoulder, your eyes slightly closed. He stopped in his tracks when he saw your work bag sitting in your lap and your suitcase beside you. Your flight was supposed to get in around 8 and he had insisted that you just meet him at home after the game. This work trip had been horrible, your co-worker throwing you under the bus in a meeting with executives on a project he didn’t work on. You deserved to be relaxing with a glass of wine in the sanctity of your shared apartment. But you were here, at his game, straight from the airport, laughing with his family despite your drooping eyes. He had never felt more loved than he did right there. 

A knock startled him from his thoughts. 

“Uhh... just a second!” He snapped the ring box shut and quickly stood up from the bed to shove it in his drawer. Taryn popped her head in to see him very suspiciously standing in front of his dresser.

“It’s just me, dork. What are you doing?” She entered his room, making herself comfy on his bed. He scoffed, and closed the door behind his sister. 

“I’m not doing anything. What are you doing?” He went back to standing by the dresser and Taryn rolled her eyes.

“That’s exactly it, you’re doing nothing. Normally, when we’re all home you’re like bouncing off the walls. Like I know this time it’s different but Y/n came too so I thought… I don’t know, you just seem off but Brady didn’t think so and I didn’t want to worry Mom… so like, what’s going on? Is everything okay? Are you and Y/n fighting?” 

His eyes bugged out and Taryn would have laughed if she wasn’t so serious. “What no! We’re fine! We’re fine, why-why would you say that?” 

“You’ve been quiet Matt. You’re never quiet, especially when Brady’s home with us.” He rolled his eyes and she huffed at her older brother. “You know it’s true! So... what’s going on?” He sighed and turned to find the box from the drawer. He looked down at the velvet in his hands as he sat on the edge of the bed. Taryn moved to be sitting beside him and gasped quietly. 

“Is that...?” 

“Yeah. I was going to...you know, before the world went to shit. I had it all planned out too. The weather was getting warmer and there’s this hiking trail we like in Banff, it’s only like an hour drive. There’s this perfect spot where I could prop my phone up so I could get it on camera, just like they wanted. But now... I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

“Do you still want to, you know, propose?” 

“’Course I do. Honestly, I want nothing more. But, they deserve it to be perfect, you know? And like, I don’t know how I could surprise them here, because we’ve been chilling in the same sweatpants for the past week! Asking them to get dressed up would seem suspicious and I want it to be a surprise,”

“Could… could I help you? I might have an idea…” She grinned towards her brother, his eyes brightening at the idea of marrying you. 

***

“Y/N, do you want to do a TikTok with me?” She called to you from across the Tkachuk’s backyard. Taryn must’ve been feeling the quarantine because yesterday the two of you did your nails together, which prompted you to, for once, put on a pair of pants that weren’t Matty’s sweatpants and do your hair, so you had no problem setting down your book and hopping up from your seat to join her. She squealed and you laughed as you joined her. 

“It’s so easy! I promise! So, it’s to a remix of Taylor Swift’s ‘Love Story’ and the only set in stone parts are that you actually kneel when she says ‘knelt to the ground’ and then the camera will start to pull away and then you just freestyle! We can do a couple practice ones before we film it for real, if you want?” 

“Yes, please, you have severely overestimated my dancing skills,” you laughed. Right at that moment, Matthew came out of the house with a Bud Light in his hand. He placed it on the edge of the firepit before walking over to you.

“What’s got you all cracked up?” He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Taryn thinks I’m a good enough dancer to film this TikTok on my first try,” He grinned at you. 

“A TikTok you say? Can I do it too? If you can do it surely it’s easy enough for me,” You gave him a playful eye roll and laughed. 

“How bored are you to want to film a TikTok?” 

“I want to spend time with my girlfriend, is that a crime?” He smirked and you cracked a smile.  

Taryn spoke up. “Hey no, this would be perfect! I need to move the camera away from you when you’re dancing anyways, and this way you won’t be alone. And you’ll get Matt’s dancing on camera for future blackmail!” You laughed at her comment and slugged him lightly in the arm. 

“Game on, we’ll see who's the better dancer after this,” He just laughed and then told you to tell what the heck he was doing for this dance. After a while, the two of you were ready to film. 

Taryn got behind her phone and started the music. You got into position and bumped Matthew’s hip before facing the camera. 

Is this in my head, I don’t know what to think. He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said

You knelt down and pretended to open a ring box, while Matthew pulled out the box he’d been hiding for six months. 

Marry me Juliet, you’ll never have to be alone

You started to dance as Taryn pulled the camera away from the both of you. Lost in the music, you didn’t seem to notice that Matthew was still on one knee, an adoring smile on his face. 

“Y/n,” 

I love you and that’s all I really know

You stopped dancing and glanced to your side. “Oh my god,” Your hands flew to cover your mouth as you saw Matt still on one knee, but with a black box in his hands. “Are you joking?”

“Not joking, baby, I promise.” He opened the box to reveal the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. It was classy, with just enough bling to catch your eye and go with the rest of your jewelry. Your eyes filled with tears as he started to speak. 

“Y/n, you are the best person I have ever met. I never thought someone would be willing to put up with me, not with my job and the media and how I play my game, but then I met you, and it’s like the whole world shifted. I have fallen more in love with you every day, even the past few days when we do the same thing every day. I love you so much, babe, and all I want is to keep being your person. I know my job means I’ll have to leave sometimes, but with me, with this, I promise you’ll never be alone. I want to be your husband and I want us to have little mini-us’s running around, well really mini-you’s but with my hair, because let’s face it, they aren’t escaping the curls,” You let out a teary laugh, and you could see his shoulder visibly relax a little. “When I look to my future, all I see is you. You are my future. And I know this isn’t perfect or even ideal but..”

“No, no, Matty, it’s perfect.” You whispered, your eyes full of tears. “It’s perfect because it’s with you.”

His grin widened if that was possible, and he looked down at the box in his hands before up to you. “If that’s the case, then Y/n, will you make me the happiest man on Earth and marry me?” 

“Yes! Yes, yes, of course,” You bent down to kiss him, leaving your tears on his cheek when you pulled away. He slipped the ring onto your finger and swept you into a bear hug. “Oh my gosh, we’re going to get married!”

“It’s you and me, baby, for the rest of our lives.” He tried to smirk, but it didn’t last long, a smile covering it as the euphoria overcame him. 

“Okay, okay, show me the ring!! Matthew didn’t tell me he was proposing!” Chantel came out in the backyard with a bright grin on her face. You couldn’t contain the smile on your face and the two of you admired the ring together. 

“I didn’t tell Dad either, don’t get offended,” Matthew said, coming over to meet the both of you. 

“Oh, you liar! You totally called me and asked me for advice.” Keith chimed in with a laugh. “Granted, you never told me you were going to do it today… but I’m happy for you kids.”

“I didn’t think he’d ever get the guts to propose, sorry for the wait Y/n,” Brady chirped, earning a whack from his mother. 

“I don’t mind, he’s worth the wait.” You looked to your fiancé, only to find him already looking at you, his blue eyes gleaming full of warmth. “So worth the wait.”

let me know what you think! thanks for reading!

[peridot-gladioli]

For the drabble meme: 4, 27, 90? :)

Gonna be posting these separately because I can’t Drabble and this first one *alone* is 1000 words (give or take).

For context this ties in to what this will be. If my plan holds true this scene will be part of Chapter Four; I hope it still makes any kind of sense out of order. :(

4. “I’m too sober forthis”

Foggy was quiet as he read through Elektra’s will—his braille-readingtorturously slow to Matt—then let out a long, slow, noisy breath.

Matt realised he had been holding his own breath and let itout more subtly.

“So let me see if I’ve got this right, Matt. Elektra had achild—has a child—and made you its guardian?”

“Yes.”

“When you didn’t know he existed before now?”

“No.”

“Jesus.”

“There… there’s other paperwork,” Matt gestured to the metalfile-case, “but, uh, I can’t read it. It’s not, umm…”

“Do you want me to do it?”

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, if you could… that’d be, that would begood, thanks.” He realised he hadn’t told Foggy the most important part of allthis, what Elektra had told him in her audio-message, what Stick had come tosay, but he wanted to know if there was any evidence. If Foggy could put ittogether for himself from the papers. That and also he had no idea how to actuallycome out and say, Elektra told me he’smine… So did Stick.

He heard Foggy unlock and open the case, take something out,and then there was barely a moment’s pause before he took a sharp breath.

“What?”

“Birth certificate. First thing in there. Matt. Father’s name is blank but EvanderMATTHEWS,” he paused, significantly.

Matt was briefly annoyed at the emphasis. That part had beenin the will.

“Evander Matthews was born November eighth 2005. If memoryserves—and trust me, I remember your break-up with Elektra—Elektra dumped you inAPRIL 2005. Please, tell me there was someone else.”

“What?! No! She didn’t… That wasn’t… We didn’t break upbecause of that.” He felt indignanton Elektra’s behalf. The ending had been awful, true, but she had loved… Shewouldn’t have done that.

“Matthew! I literally gave you the safe-sex talk because Iwas worried you’d learned bullshit in Catholic school and would try to usewithdrawal or something equally stupid! I physically gave you condoms!”

Oh, yes, Matt remembered. And even now he felt his cheeksheat, though he had also been so touched at how concerned and considerate hisfriend had been, because Foggy had been right, Matt’s sex-ed had been stuff heover-heard and rumours from the others boys. (He had actually been told that ifshe peed after a sex a girl wouldn’t get pregnant.) And Foggy had BOUGHT HIMCONDOMS not left him to struggle, blind, in the drug store and maybe have toask an assistant to help him out. He found himself stuttering a bit before hedefended, “She told me I didn’t have to worry about birth control! And she wastelling the truth! How was I supposed to know that she meant it because she wasdeliberately trying to get pregnant because Stick wanted a child with my DNA?!”

“Whoa. Okay.” Foggy held up a hand in a “stop” gesture and ranhis other hand over his face and into his hair. “I am too sober for this. There’sa hell of a lot to unpack there. Firstly… Stick?! Your knock-off Jedi Master?Old blind guy who taught you the ways of martial arts? What the fuck has he gotto do with anything?”

Oh. Oh God. “He… He trained Elektra too. He sent her. Toseduce me. Test me. Recruit me to his war. Umm… He’s, uh, part of a ninja clan.The Chaste. Apparently they’ve been fighting the Hand—that’s the ninjas thatkilled Elektra and abducted Karen and everything—for hundreds of years orsomething.”

“And he wanted you to fight in a war? And your DNA?”

“He thought a child would have my abilities without the, uh,problematic,” Matt spat the word, “morality.”

“Time out,” Foggy made the T-sign with his hands, “I thoughtyou got your abilities, the enhanced senses and stuff, from the chemicals thatblinded you? Not genetics.”

“Yeah, but he reckoned acquired abilities, enhancements likethat, changed me at a cellular level. And, well,” he shrugged. “Sperm arecells.”

“Definitely way too fucking sober for this. That’s some majorsci-fi shit right there, Matthew.”

“And chemicals which somehow enable me to hear you comingfrom two blocks away aren’t sci-fi,Foggy? The Super-Soldier Serum was chemicals. Chemicals plus radiation areapparently all it takes to turn a five-foot six scientist into an eight-foottall, green, raging behemoth. Maybe we need to rethink what’s science fictionand what’s science reality.”

“Wait a minute! Does that mean Captain America—or the Hulk—couldpass it on to their… No. Nope. Not going there.” Foggy took a deep breath. Letit out again. “Okay. So this Stick guy wanted your baby and used Elektra to getit. And she went along with that. And you’ve only just found out about this?”

“Pretty much.”

“Oh, Matty.”

Foggy’s tone made Matt want to cry. Again. But he hadalready sobbed all over the other man once today. But maybe something in hisface gave him away, because once again he was gathered into a warm, comfortingembrace. He clung on.

“Are congratulations in order? Daddy?”

He let out a (wet) chuckle at Foggy’s teasing tone and Foggysqueezed his shoulder. Shook him a little bit.

“Dude. Come on. The rest of those papers can wait.”

“What?! Why? Where are you..?”

“Matt. Matty-Matt. My buddy, my pal, my best friend. WE aregonna go get hammered—as is only appropriate. We’re both Irish so we have towet the baby’s head. It’s tradition and heritage and culture and stuff. Besides,I wasn’t joking about not being able to handle this sober. And if I feel likethat, God knows how you’re doing. Come on.”

Best friend. Mattwrapped his arms around Foggy and just held him. Thank God for Foggy Nelson. Two hours ago he had not even been surethey were still friends. Now this. Maybethere was still hope of making some kind of sense of everything.