#and juniper can be there too. as a treat

[stellar-collective]

personally i don’t think that ieytd will be a full-fledged spy series until Agent Phoenix is forced to team up with Zoraxis/a former enemy thought to be dead bc the most important person in their life is being threatened. just my opinion

[blujayonthewing]

my idea of self indulgent character design is giving an OC red hair and long/ actually visible at all eyelashes

[moonstruckme]

Ugh, Whimsical!reader x James (not together yet) where anytime she says something he just has the most lovesick look on his face and Sirius is like “we’ve lost him, boys” but then reader quips back with something about looking at those you’re comfortable and friendly with boosts your seratonin and you’re glad to have James look at you if it makes him happy

Thanks for requesting babe!

James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 932 words

“You seem like you’re feeling better today, Remus,” you say, passing him a cup of tea. You give one to Sirius, too, then James. It’s got a couple of little flowers floating on the top, James notices. Adorable. 

Remus looks a bit caught offguard. “I am, thanks. How’d you know?” 

“Your aura’s looking less gray than usual.” 

Sirius snickers. “Just like you to have a gray aura, Moons. Boring.” 

You settle on the couch beside James, crossing your legs underneath you. “I don’t think Remus is boring,” you say, voice soft and airy as dandelion fluff. “His color often just looks a tad sapped. It’s bluer today.” 

Remus seems to perk up a bit at your appraisal. He does look well, James thinks, but your noticing improves his color even more. Remus doesn’t like being viewed like a helpless, afflicted lamb, and you never have treated him like one, save whatever you put in his tea (it takes a few minutes longer to make than the rest of yours, though James pretends not to notice). 

James watches you watching Remus, and his heart gives a happy little throb. You’re so kind, considerate in ways which you play off as incidental, but he can see the effort you put into taking care of the people in your life. He doesn’t know how you know half the things you do, but you’re always looking out for them. He’ll be waiting for Sirius to come home late at night and you’ll text to ask if everything is okay, or Remus will be having one of his worse days and you’ll show up unannounced with chocolates and juniper bound with twine to “cleanse” their flat, whatever that means. Or when James was sick with the flu a few weeks ago, and Remus and Sirius both swore they hadn’t said a word to you but he’d woken from a nap to find you sitting beside him with soup and a very strong elderberry tea. He’s fairly sure your presence had healed him just as much as the sustenance. You have that effect on him. 

“Do we all have auras?” Sirius asks, and James comes out of his reverie to find his friend watching him with a poorly concealed smirk. He supposes he’s had that look on his face again. Lovestruck.

“Of course.” You give Sirius a funny smile, like this should be obvious. “Everyone has an aura,” you say, “we just can’t all see it all of the time.” 

“What’s yours look like?” James asks. 

Your lips part in surprise as you turn to look at him, your knee bumping his thigh. “I can’t see my own. I’d have to ask someone else.” 

“What about mine?” Sirius asks. 

You turn back to him. James feels the loss. “Right now, it’s mostly orange.” 

“Right now?” 

“Yours shifts a lot. A couple of minutes ago, it was pinker.” You tilt your head, considering. “You’re very sunset-y today, Sirius.” 

Sirius grins, and James knows that whatever his friend may think about auras, he’s going to carry that compliment with him for the rest of the week. “And what about our Jamesie? What’s his aura like?” 

“Oh, James’ almost never changes.” You look over at him with a small smile on your face. Maybe James is flattering himself, but he feels as though there’s a faintly secretive quality to it, like some part of your smile is just for him. “His is always yellow. Though I have been noticing a bit more red than usual lately.” 

James isn’t sure he can speak with your eyes on him like this. You’re so lovely it’s choking him. Thankfully, Remus comes to his aid. 

“Is that a good thing?” he asks. “It shifting, I mean.” 

You don’t turn away from James like he expects you’re going to. You hold his gaze, that smile broadening just slightly. It has all the soft radiance of moonlight. 

“I don’t think so,” you say. “It’s not making him any less himself, it only means that something has changed.” 

“Good god,” Sirius stage-whispers to Remus. “Look at him, we’ve lost him completely. Bet it gets redder every time he looks at her.” 

“It does, a little.” Your eyes flit upwards, presumably to colors which he can’t see but he imagines his face is starting to match. “It might be the serotonin boost. Looking at people you care about will do that.” You set a hand on top of his, thumb stroking over the knuckle of his pinkie finger. James’ mouth is a desert. “I’m happy to have James look at me if it makes him happy.” 

Sirius lets out a short laugh. “I’m sure it does, sweetheart. He’s—” 

Remus must elbow him, because he goes blessedly silent. 

“I’ve been wondering,” Remus says mildly, “do you give us different kinds of tea? They always look different from each other.” 

“Oh, yes.” You finally break your gaze away from James’, but your hand stays atop his. It’s hardly a whisper of a touch, and yet he’s very concerned you’re somehow absorbing every thought and feeling he’s having through some freaky osmosis. It doesn’t seem wholly out of the realm of possibility for you. “I make them with different ingredients for each of you.” 

Sirius quirks an eyebrow. “In that case, can I try a new one next time? This one tastes a bit like dirt.” 

You shrug, nonplussed. “If you like, but it might not do as much for you.” 

“What do you put in them?” Remus asks curiously. 

You take a sip of your own tea. “Just what you need.” 

[arc-misadventures]

An Arc’s Revenge

Juniper: So… Let me get this straight… There’s a kid at school named, Cardin Winchester?

Jaune: Yes.

Juniper: And, this kid tends to bully you at school.

Jaune: Among others, but it’s mostly him.

Juniper: And, he’s been bullying you by knocking your stuff over, shoving you around, and general blackmail you into doing his school work.

Jaune: He also shoved me into a rocket launcher, and sent me flying.

Juniper: H-He did what?! Okay, no… let’s, let’s just put that on the back burner for now.

Jaune: Okay.

Juniper: So, you decided to come up with a plan to get revenge on, Cardin for all the things he has done to you. Now, instead of coming up with some elaborate prank that would totally humiliate him. You decided to go the opposite route… and, fuck his mother?!

Jaune: Yeah, pretty much.

Juniper: Why the hell would you do that?!

Jaune: Well, at first at went to, Carla…?!

Juniper: Mrs. Winchester! You are not getting on any friendly ground with her bucko!

Jaune: Okay… I went to, Ms. Winchester, and asked her if she could give me any information on, Cardin. What are his biggest fears, secrets he doesn’t want exposed, things like that. She understood I wanted to get revenge for all of his bullying. But, then, Ms. Winchester purposed a plan that would really upset, Cardin.

Jaune: That I fuck her.

Juniper: Wait! This was her plan?!

Jaune: Yep. Apparently she wanted to teach, Cardin a lesson too, and she thought, ‘What better revenge can a guy get, than fucking his bully’s mom.’

Juniper: Are you kidding me?! That seriously can’t be the reason behind why she slept with you?!

Jaune: Well, she also mentioned some things about… a dry spell, sexy blonds. And, something else afterwards about being sexually satisfied? I wasn’t sure what she meant by that.

Juniper: Good gods! Okay, I’m going to have a word with, Ms. Winchester. Acheius, you go talk to your son I… oh gods…

Acheius: Jaune, I can’t believe you would do something so childish!

Acheius: Nice job out there son! That’s a pretty dame you bagged out there!

Jaune: Ehhh… What?

Acheius: And, with a woman twice your age too!

Acheius: Juniper actually wanted me to bang her to get back at the husband for what she said to, Juni. He died before I could.

Jaune: Mom wanted you to do what now…?

Acheius: I can’t believe that my son would stoop to something so low, and depraved! Didn’t I teach you better?!

Acheius: Your mom would have done it herself, but she was pregnant at the time.

Jaune: You didn’t teach me any…?! Wait, Mom would have done it?!

Acheius: I can’t believe my son would do such a thing… I am so disappointed in you…

Acheius: I’m so proud of you! Here’s 200 Lien, treat the lady to a nice dinner!

Jaune: Okay…?

Acheius: You are ground for a week… No! A…?!

Juniper: Jauney~!

Acheius: Uh oh…

Jaune: Y-Yes?

Juniper: After much consideration, and discussion with, Carla. I approve of your relationship with her.

Jaune: You do?

Acheius: Beg pardon?

Juniper: Yes, Carla is a kind, and caring widow who is searching for a lover to share her life with, and we both agree that you are that man!

Jaune: Okay…?

Juniper: So you two go on, and have a wonderful time together, okay dear?

Jaune: What the hell is going on…?

Juniper: Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a world with my new BFF~!

Jaune: ‘BFF?’

Jaune: Dad… What the fuck just happened?

Acheius: I have no idea… One moment she’s screaming at you for bedding a woman twice your age, now she getting all buddy, buddy with her; I haven’t the faintest clue what just happened.

Juniper: Oh, Jaune?

Jaune: Yeah?

Juniper: Remember: If you use a condom your pee-pee will fall off! Okay? Bye~!

JA: …?

JA: Ohhhhhhhh…

Jaune: That certainly explains the 180 she just performed.

Acheius: Yeah. Your mother has always had a thing for babies…

Jaune: I know…

Jaune: She’ll kill me if I don’t knock, Carla up within the month won’t she?

Acheius: Maine you at worst.

Jaune: Shit…

[since-times-long-forgotten]

@aiko-kpwc tumblr ate your ask :( But anyways! You’d suggested I draw Yellowfang, so here she is! Scruffy old lady >:)

(please click for better quality) but wait, that’s not all…

I also drew the Three as Yellowfang/Bluestar hypokits! I’ve kept Jay’s name the same, but I renamed Holly to Juniperkit (for her blue instead of green eyes), and Lion to Stormkit! I tried to stay accurate to genetics, so Lion/Storm has unfortunately lost his golden fur, which is why I renamed him lol

possible spoilers for power of three & yellowfang’s secret & bluestar’s prophecy under the cut, plus lots of writing!

In this hypothetical world, we have a few options. Option one: This litter follows Yellowfang’s litter’s path, and Jaykit and Stormkit take the place of Wishkit & Hopekit, thus dying at birth. Juniperkit takes on the role of Brokenstar, going all evil-murder-cat, but in a different way than Broken. Maybe she takes the warrior code to higher levels, or maybe she discards it. Possibilities are endless! Jayfrost, Juniperfall, Stormfang?

Second option: the litter follows Bluestar’s litter’s path, with Stormkit taking the place of Mosskit, and Jaykit & Juniperkit taking the place of Misty & Stone, being taken to ShadowClan. ooh wait, maybe we can mix stories…

Juniperkit, Jaykit, and Stormkit are born into ThunderClan by their mother Bluefur. All three kits survive their birth, and Blue brings them to ShadowClan to live with their other mom Yellowfang, who has to give the litter to Lizardstripe (just pretend timelines make sense). Lizardstripe is in a super difficult position— she doesn’t want kits, never really did, but got pregnant, and now three more kits are being forced upon her by the Clan leader Raggedstar. She’s not a good mother, and honestly who can blame her? Well. The majority of ShadowClan can, I guess. But then Storm and Jay die from a sickness, Juniper blames Yellowfang and Raggedstar— Yellowfang for not healing her brothers, Ragged refusing to let Yellowfang treat Storm and Jay because they were too far gone. The ghosts of Jay and Storm kind of follow Juniper around, and they stay kits whilst Juniperkit grows to an apprentice, and then a warrior— Juniperfall, perhaps? She discovers she has a power (instead of Jay&Lion having powers and Holly not, now Juniper has powers & Jay&Storm don’t) to… idk, see the dead? Fade into shadows/go invisible? Juniper is super protective over young cats now, but also has a grudge against Ragged and Yellow, due to her brother’s deaths. She becomes deputy, then kills Raggedstar by making him eat deathberries (👀 deathberries… woah… haven’t seen that before I’m sure… (looks at Hollyleaf and Leafpool) ). But after killing him… she can no longer see Jay and Storm. She can see other dead cats, but her brothers have left her. They are afraid of who she has become, and honestly, it scares her too. She becomes Juniperstar, and tries to fix her wrongs, but in a way where she actually is being kind of evil, but has a reason for being evil, protective, etc etc, stuff like that. She steals kits to raise them in ShadowClan to be safer, trains them from a younger age so that they’re stronger sooner and hopefully won’t die young (this backfires at a few different points probably). Alright that’s all I’ve got!

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Oh heck nah fairy sun needs to apologize to y/n and not be a brat because they didn't know and I will find him and trap him in a glass until he promises to apologizes to y/n properly because nana was someone close to y/n too and sunny needs to know it I swear to goodness!

Trapping him in a glass jar would only have the exact opposite effect and cause him even more distress.

While he is in the wrong for the way he's treated the Gardener, Sun's logical thinking is being overrun by fresh trauma and all these different emotions. Fear. Anger. Abandonment. Old wounds have been reopened. He's not had time to properly process anything since the fire and being separated from Moon. The life he knew is currently in shambles and he thinks he's alone. It's not an excuse for the way he treats others, but it provides a reason.

He's not being a brat, he's traumatized and scrambling for anything to keep him grounded. But he's not fully aware how his actions and words are hurting someone.

That's why Juniper is now here to help. Sun needs a familiar face to show him where he's gone wrong, and how he can make it right.

[mintmatcha]

Mint, I need Lady in Waiting reader to find out that Sir Aizawa isn't married, I NEED this (I need to caress his weary face in my hands and watch his eyes slowly close as he cuddles into them, like a cat)

It’s normal for him to notice who comes and goes at these events. The vigilance is ingrained deep in every muscle, so much so that his eyes flicker to the door whenever there’s even a hint of movement.

That’s how he notices you dip out, the tails of your dress following behind.

He also notices that someone else is watching you.

“And then the dragon breathed fire. Did you know dragons could do that, mister?” the princess babbles, “That might only be in stories, though.”

Aizawa can barely mutter out a sound as he watches the other man -a squire, servicing under one of the other knights- excuses himself and heads to through door. He knows something is wrong by the way he moves. There’s too much purpose in his stride, a goal set into his brow and a smirk of his lips. It’s not the smile of a secret lovers meeting– its the sharpness of a predator hunting its prey.

“Mister Aizawa?”

Princess Eri tugs at the fabric of his shirt. The princess is especially young compared to the age of her father, only six as of this summer. Guarding her as been some of the easier years of his life, but also some of the most rewarding.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he stands, “I have to check on something.”

The young girl looks at him with wide eyes. “Will you be back soon? You promised we would dance.”

He ruffles her hair as he spins on his heel. He fears she has become his soft spot. “Before you know it, princess.”

He can’t hear your voice until his halfway down the hall and clear of the din of the banquet hall. It’s hushed, but with none of the polite lacquer you usually apply.

“I said I am retiring for the night,” you hiss.

“Perfect - then we shall head to your room.”

As Aizawa peers around the corner, he catches the blonde man reaching for you and grasping at the hem of your sleeve. You immediately rip yourself away, only for the squire to grap your other hand much more firmly.

“Sir Monoma,” you say, “If I have told you once, I have told you a hundred times. My heart belongs to another and I have no interest in you.”

The squire steps in closer, a laugh on his breath. He’s drunk enough that Aizawa can almost smell it from here. “Everyone sees how you long for the man. If he hasn’t reciprocated by now, you are waiting for nothing. You’re wasting your good years on a fool.”

Pity pangs in Aizawa’s chest. Have your affections been this obvious the whole time? He’d only just began to notice your lingering glances and hesitant touches– how long had it been obvious to everyone else? How much time had he spent missing you?

“Just one chance.” The squire tugs on your arm, trying to drag you in, but you hold firm, “I’ll treat you real nice, I swear it.”

The man twists slightly and you yelp.

Aizawa moves without thinking. It’s easy to catch a drunk man off guard. He slides in and knocks his weight off center, and in the instant of surprise, his hard snatches the squires away from yours. With a twist and a pop, the man’s arm folds behind his back and he falls to his knees, a strangled sound in his lips. It’s after, when he sees the fear in your eyes, that the anger sets in.

“If I am ever to catch you touching a maiden again I will break this arm so badly that you will never use it again, do you understand?” The words rip from his throat, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir, or course, sir,” the man spits out.

“Your charge will hear of this.” With a shove, Aizawa sends him stumbling back, “And the king. Now, be off.”

There’s a moment of hesitation.

“I said be off.”

Monoma scrambles down the hall, back towards the party. You watch, rubbing your twisted skin with a dour look and avoiding Aizawa’s gaze. He’s not one to get flustered, but suddenly he is; you smell like juniper and flowers, a summer’s day, and rolled in like a winter’s storm.

“Don’t worry. His wrist is only sprained,” he offers.

“Frankly, I think you should have broken it.”

That surprises him enough that he chuckles.

“Was that too harsh?” you ask.

“Not at all.”

“Thank you, Sir, I don’t know how to repay you-”

Aizawa had discussed moments like these, the little openings that life gives him and he keeps squandering. Hizashi always tells him to be bold and romantic, Toshinori says to be soft and himself. Both seem like bad choices- so Aizawa decides to so something different entirely.

“Give me your hand.” He holds his own out, palm up. “That is all I request.”

You check the hall with a fair amount of apprehension. “Would your wife approve?”

“I am not married.”

“You aren’t?”

“Not even close to it.” He want s to explain the mix up, but the only thing he can focus on are you hands and how they wring your dress, “You can deny me. I’d understand.”

You lift your hand and place it in his, hovering slightly above his touch. Gently, he raises it to his lips and gives it the chastest of kisses. He expects you to pull away, maybe even slap him, but you don’t. Your touch lingers, warm against his skin.

“Are you sure you are unmarried?” you whisper, “You’ll break my heart if you are lying.”

He turns your wrist and presses a firmer kiss into your pulsepoint, then another, and another, trailing up your arm.

“You can ask the king himself.”

Right before he can nestle his face into the crook of your neck, you break away.

“Then, I will,” you say, dipping away and back towards the grand hall, “I will ask right now. I don’t want you to make a dishonest woman of me, sir.”

“Don’t ask in front of the court!” Aizawa is quick to follow, a uncharacteristic blush blossoming across his cheeks.

“Because you’ll be shown to be a liar?”

“Because the king might end up begging you to take me.”

[princess-glassred]

I'm fascinated by what could have potentially happened had Henry succeeded in killing all the losers. Aside from the obvious of Pennywise never being defeated, and assuming IT doesn't kill him because he's a fantastic scapegoat, imagine how big the fallout of this would be.

Henry would be found out almost immediately, if not from his own incompetance then from IT deliberately luring the cops to him so he'd be arrested. He'd either be sent back to the ward for the crimimally insane, or, worst case scenario, Henry's crime might be so heinous Maine would consider bringing back the death penalty just for him. The version of events told by the media would be that Henry is a lunatic who committed a string of murders when he was a young child, then broke out of Juniper Hills and committed another string of murders. The timeline wouldn't match up at all, given that people were dying before Henry broke out, but the media wouldn't focus on that.

This case would probably make national news (at least for a little bit) given that Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Richie Tozier, and Ben Hanscom were super famous individuals and them all dying together would be an insane story for the public. Of course pennywise covered things up, but these aren't just abused kids or bums who live in alleys. Bill and Richie have an actual fanbase, Ben was on magazine covers, and Bev was a well known fashion mogul. I can only imagine how messy things would be if Tom and Audra died too and the media added them to Henry's list of victims. Audra was a famous actress/model and Tom was Bev's business partner. This shit would have been everywhere.

The goreyness of the case would bring a lot of attention to Derry and I imagine with how insensitive Derry can be they'd use this in tourism. Before this all they had to make people come to Derry was the canal days, so i'm sure sombody would be eager to capatalize on it. The tourism boom would probably cause Derry to be a little gentrified and thus bring more people to Derry than ever before. It would have a plethora of new meals and probably eat more than it'd ever dreamed it could.

Henry would become a pop culture figure, much of the same way we see people treat Jeffrey Dahmer or John Wayne Gacy. IT would love all of that attention because the more people focus on how fucked it is Henry killed people the less people focus on Derry as a whole. Of course there'd been tragedies in the town before, but none of those victims had been famous, and besides: this is the 80's/2010's, the way media sensationalized things would be a lot worse with the prominince of TV/the internet.

There'd probably be some documentary made about Henry's life using what little information they could gather around town. Nobody had even seen henry since he was arrested and nobody talked to him before, so it was basically gaurenteed anyone who got interviewed was lying for attention. There might be a terrible movie made about him at some point, similarly to how in Carrie the black prom incident got a movie that sucked. Henry would probably lack the ability to understand how famous he'd gotten, if not be totally ignorant to it. A few people would get mad that Mike Hanlon and the other numerous victims of Henry who weren't famous get no attention. Tik tok would do it's tik tok thing. True crime crush community girlies would have a field day with young pictures of Henry (especially in the 2017 continuity).

Henry would become a well known person to arm chair diagnose, the kind of killer you write research papers and books about. There'd be plenty of books about Henry too, discussing his fucked mental state and proposing theories about why he did what what he did, a lot of which based on offensive and outdated views of mental health (ie: homosexuality being a mental disorder).

[fieldsofwriting]

With Hayden having Henrietta and Juniper having Dozy, what do you think is every love interest's ideal pet? I feel like a good amount of them would wind up being cat people to be honest lol

You are very right, I think everyone would be very ride or die with thier pets tbh. Like there is friendly debates at the Tavern over who is the best. They'd have a best in show every year. Head cannons below the cut!

Balor:

This man is a Cat lover through and through. There is no convincing me otherwise.

I could see him having the sweetest little black cat- ya know to add to they mystery vibees.

He would love to have the cat run around with him, and when he's out and about I can see it curling up around his shoulders.

THIS MAN SPOILS HIS BABY.

So much, this cat wants for absolutely nothing.

If he gets it after his D&D sessions- it have a silly name like Snickelfritz. For the vibes.

Reina:

She strikes me as a dog girlie honestly.

I think she'd like using her dog as an excuse to get out of the kitchen every now and again and just go on walks with them.

I think she'd have a chocolate lab- yes because of the name but I also can't see her having a little dog.

She would spoil the shit out of the dog too- this dog gets so many homemade treats.

Not to mention Hemlock would feed him table scraps. And Luc would love to take them out too for bug adventures.

I could also see her being the kinda dog owner to give them cute little bandana's and everything to wear.

They'd also probably have a food name tbh.

Celine:

I think she could go either way. I can definitely see her having both cats and dogs growing up.

But once she's moved out? I think she's got a bunny.

She'd LOVE taking them out to her garden and letting them roam.

She'd also love being able to give the bunny farm fresh foods!

I mean look at her and tell me that she doesn't look like she'd hold a bunny in her arms and walk around town.

She'd make it a little flower crown and everything too.

She'd get Ryis to help her make the best most lavish bunny cage there is too.

I think she'd give the bunny a cute name like Petal.

March:

Okay- hear me out. As a kid? I think he had a bearded dragon. He would have thought they were SO COOL. Alright?

But now, as like an adult? I think he wouldn't hate any animal. Mans a big softy under that hard exterior.

I think though- he'd prefer Dogs over cats.

MOSTLY because the dog would remind him of Olric

Also you've seen those arms. I think be a crime to not get him a dog so you can throw a stick to them.

He'd pretend not to care at all about the dog- but then he'd fight so hard to make it have a cool name. (He'd probably try for Copper.)

You know those dads that are like "Don't bring home any damn animals!" And then bonds with the said animal. That's him.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed!! Let me know if you want me to do some of the other characters too!! And thank you for your request! :3 Requests are open!!

[1arkspur-aconitum]

SOULS OF POETS (s.r.)

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

[PART ONE OF THREE]

IN WHICH: Spencer discovers more about Juniper’s previous work history, and it is not to his taste.

PAIRING: Season3!Spencer Reid/Fem!BAU!OC

CATEGORY: angst

CONTENT: strip-clubs, common BAU violence, the team being little shits, established secret relationship, Spencer being mean, not a happy ending (in this part at least)

WORD COUNT: 8k… (I got a bit carried away)

PUBLISHED: 16/10/24

TO SAY THIS ISN’T HOW I was expecting today to go would be an understatement.

Sure, we end up on some of the most bizarre cases in the FBI, but the chances of this happening are slim to none—I am not Dr. Reid, so I am unable to give you an exact statistic, but I reckon it would be in the 1:1 bajillion ballpark.

Normally the cases are bizarre because of M.O., or because the people we deal with are strange; I still remember that one interview Emily and I had with that frankly absurd woman with way too many garden gnomes inside her house. Or the time Derek and I found a dude in his bath, stark naked, the tub filled with what I have told myself was milk, and have refused to ponder any other possibilities since.

All that to say, we get weird shit at the BAU.

Yet when I walked in this morning and saw the photos, and read the case file, I was more nervous for this than I had been for any bomb or kidnapping case.

To the others, it looks perfectly average. Localised crime scene, moderately high-risk victims, a clear comfort zone. New York City isn’t far from D.C and we have a good relationship with the police working on the case already. Seems simple enough.

But even as I sit on the plane, knees up to my chest, I still feel as if I can’t take a proper breath. As I try to force myself to take one, I catch Emily’s concerned glance from across the aisle. She knows me too well.

I clear my throat and force myself to adjust. Dropping my knees underneath the table, I spread the photos across the table in front of me. Women’s bodies–hands and feet removed–shoved into the bins out the back of a strip of clubs ranging from gay bars, to strip joints, to your average night-out with the girls club.

Shoved into bins. Nothing better than rubbish.

To my left, Spencer is busy pouring over a map of the NYC suburbs. He’s armed with his favourite set of coloured pens, slender fingers idly tapping the lid on his chin as he thinks it over. Spencer, as always, looks adorable. Messy hair, loose tie, those cheekbones–the little furrow he gets between his eyebrows when he’s thinking. With his lips parted in focus, I can’t help but let my knee press against his under the table.

He smiles privately, not once looking up from his map. It’s the only concession to tenderness he’ll give me at work. The only one he can whilst we’re keeping our relationship hidden from the team.

‘So, when we land, I want us to hit the ground running,’ Hotch announces, drawing all of our attention to him. He looks at us gravely in turn. ‘We have to handle this one with tact, especially considering the subject matter–JJ and Rossi, I want you guys to head to the police station and help us get set up.’

‘That should be fun.’ Rossi says without a trace of humour in his tone. ‘The local police always get antsy about us treating these cases like they’re important–’

‘They are important.’ The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, sounding a lot harsher than I originally intended. Rossi stops mid sentence. All eyes turn to me. Flushing, I pick at my fingernails as Spencer jostles my knee gently. ‘I’m sorry. It just pisses me off that people treat them like they aren’t.’

‘I know that, but the local police don't always.’ Rossi reminds me gently, flashing me the palms of his hands. A classic sign of apology. I incline my head and don’t say anything else. Emily is still watching me from across the aisle with those perceptive eyes of hers. ‘So JJ and I will do our best to get them on board.’

‘The rest of us are going to head to the main club that’s been targeted,’ Hotch has an air of disapproval in his tone, sending me a quick glare to remind me that I am the source of his anger. I sink lower into my seat, biting my lips shut. I shouldn’t have said anything at all. ‘See what we can find out about the place, the locals.’

‘Are you okay?’ Spencer murmurs to me under his breath a few moments later. The rest of the team have devolved back into their previous conversations, so the sweetness in his voice isn’t as easily detected. He is looking at me with those annoyingly perceptive, wide brown eyes. It’s like he’s peering deep into my skin and I don’t like it.

‘What? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?’ I close myself off, folding my arms and trying to work some of the tension out of my jaw. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s not Spencer’s fault, and even genius Spencer Reid doesn’t have all of the pieces to finally puzzle this together.

‘I don’t know…is it because we’re going to New York City?’

‘What’s made you think I don’t like New York?’

‘Well…I know you lived there for a while after you dropped out of Cornell–’

‘I took a break from Cornell, I went back eventually.’ I scowl at him, brushing some loose strands of hair away from my face. Spencer quirks his eyebrows but I can tell he’s laughing internally at me. ‘I completed that degree, thank you very much. I just…’

‘You just what?’ He bumps his warm shoulder gently against mine.

‘This case…’ I pick up a picture of one of the bins–the woman inside has her legs spread, blood crusted around where her feet used to be, the short skirt she was wearing shoved up around her hips. She seems so painfully familiar. ‘There’s something…there’s something personal about it.’

The next time I look at Spencer, his lips are slightly pursed, eyes narrowed. If I were to lean in, I’m ninety percent sure that I could hear the cogs in his brain working. The idea of Spencer finding out concerns me more than I want it to. Rechecking my microexpressions, I plaster on a mildly bored smile. He doesn’t believe it. I can tell immediately. Yet he still can’t put a pin on why I’m lying.

‘I feel bad,’ I say, doing my best to pace the words to a steady, ordinary beat. ‘These women are as deserving of respect as anyone else, and yet somehow they always end up being the ones covered in rubbish.’

Spencer nods slowly, apparently satisfied with this, but the narrowness to his usually wide eyes doesn’t fully lift. I can tell that I have not heard the last of this. Spencer Reid is nothing if not persistent–at least he won’t have to wait long to find out, because I know that as soon as we get off the plane, I’m on a deadline. An hourglass with only a teaspoon of sand left.

I lean back into the seat and wait to meet my terrible fate.

Elysium is everything you would expect from a strip-club.

Bleak and unassuming exterior, with one door manned by a beefy looking security guard, and several cameras aimed at the entrance. Inside it’s dark and seedy, the walls painted black to better enhance the vibrant colours of the strobe lights. They pulse in time to the music; a classic pop song I recognise, pumped through massive speakers at an almost deafening volume. The beat is so nostalgic I resist the urge to tap my foot.

We step into the main room and my heart stammers. It’s still laid out the same–a big raised platform at the back of the room with three poles, two currently in use. The women curve around the silver poles, the low lights slicking off of their curves. There’s a catwalk down the centre with a few loose notes blanketing it like leaves. The door to the right with the big neon ‘PRIVATE’ sign above it sits resolutely locked. The extensive bar has several scantily dressed women lean against it, talking to the patrons. It’s so familiar that I am suddenly twenty one again, walking into this place for the first time.

‘Can I help you?’ A voice says and I drag my attention from the bar.

The lady talking to Hotch hasn’t changed either. She’s still got that impossibly divine smooth skin, but she’s swapped the belly button piercing since I last saw her. It’s now a golden teardrop embellished in green that swings as she moves. Long dreads hang down to her waist and she’s dressed in the little gold number she always saved for big payouts. She must be planning on scoring high tonight. Despite myself, I let my face split into a broad smile.

‘Yes, actually could–’ Hotch starts, pointedly looking at her face rather than the rest of her body. Spencer is trying not to look at her breasts and failing–and I don’t think Derek even makes the attempt to be discreet. He’s like a kid in a sweet shop. The woman lifts her hand to silence him, brown eyes settling onto mine.

‘No fucking way.’ Tia takes two steps towards me, vibrant eyes scouring my figure. The last time she saw me, I would have been caught dead in a pair of suit trousers and a button down, yet here I am. I flare my arms away from my body, as if to say ‘yes way’. ‘June–Junebug!’

‘Hi, Tia.’ I laugh as she throws herself at me. Her strong arms wrap around my shoulders and she presses her body tightly against mine. The team is openly ogling at me as the stripper gives me the biggest, friendliest hug ever. I don’t look at them, though, face buried in her neck. She smells like cigarette smoke and vetiver perfume. ‘I’m afraid this isn’t a friendly visit.’

‘Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.’ Tia grins, gesturing at the gun holstered at my hip before she grabs me again. When she speaks next, she shakes me to punctuate each word. ‘Ugh, I’m so glad to see you! You don’t visit us enough, and you said you would.’

‘I know, T, I’m sorry.’ I extricate myself from her arms, wincing awkwardly at my team. I feel very exposed. There will be time for explanations later, though, and right now I’m busy basking in the warmth of an old friend. She’s right. I haven’t visited nearly as often as I said I would. Regret seeps through my pores. ‘We’re here to ask some questions about the murders that have been going on?’

‘Oh, of course.’ Tia immediately loses the air of excitement, brow furrowing. She inspects the team as a whole again, noting the way they’re looking between us with a curious air. When she looks back at me, she raises a quizzical brow. I shake my head–explanations later. Tia, ever the saint, doesn’t push the issue. ‘Come on, do you want to head to the back office? I’ll get some of the girls together but Harold is already in there, waiting to talk to you.’

‘Harold still works here?’ I blink, surprised.

‘Yeah, he does–his hip is bothering him more now, but he’s still kickin’,’ Tia loops her arm through mine and starts to lead me through the strip club. I can hear the sounds of my team whispering behind me as they fall into line, but I pointedly ignore them. Nosy buggers. ‘You would know that if you came to visit.’

‘I already feel guilty about it,’ I knock her with my elbow. ‘No need to make me feel worse.’

‘I’m just glad you’re here now.’ Tia presses a sticky, lip gloss kiss to my cheek as we stop by another inconsequential door. It’s been painted black to match the walls, designed to be unobserved by the patrons. The amount of secret spaces in this place is unprecedented, rat runs sprawling through the bowls of Elysium. It took me months to learn where all the nooks and crannies were. I scowl petulantly. ‘You remember where you’re going?’

‘Of course, I mean, how could I forget?’ I flash her my cheekiest of grins.

I cross my arms as I wait for the team to catch up with us, leaning back against the wall.

Derek is currently casually flirting with one of the barmaids–someone I do not recognise–which doesn’t surprise me. Hotch is scouring the layout of the place, pointedly avoiding looking at the half-naked women gyrating around poles, or meandering around laps.

Emily has that shit-eating grin on her face, striding towards me and Tia, and Spencer is staring down at his hands as he follows in Emily’s wake.

Thinking about it, I wonder if Spencer has ever even stepped foot in a strip club before. It doesn’t seem like his kind of vibe, but you never know. Spencer is always full of surprises.

‘I’m gonna get Jas, she’ll die when she sees you.’ Tia grins as Emily arrives, bouncing off into the crowd. Tia has always been my favourite; she was the one who took me under her wing when I first arrived at Elysium, who gave me a place to stay when I didn’t have anywhere. The fact that she’s still here hurts my heart like a bruise. We always said we’d get out together.

‘You, ma’am, have a lot of explaining to do.’ Emily grins at me when she gets within earshot, grabbing my elbow. She loves this.

‘There isn’t much to explain,’ I try, but then Derek appears on my other side and I know I am done for. ‘Seriously.’

‘What, so you’re just casually friends with strippers?’

‘What’s wrong with being friends with strippers?’ I retort, turning pleading eyes to Spencer.

Spencer Reid looks as uncomfortable as possible–his shoulders are tense, hand to his lips, that slight frown between his eyebrows. He’s physically trying to make himself smaller by curving his shoulders inwards. Whenever someone nearly naked walks past him, he deliberately makes a lot of space. If his eyeline drifts for more than a few seconds, he’s instantly staring down at his feet again, cheeks blazing red hot. When he meets my gaze, though, he cannot hide the subtle hint of interest. It becomes clear that Spencer is not the person I should look to for help.

Balls.

‘Hey, you know I’m not complaining–’

‘Shut up, Derek, you’re just salty because she kissed me.’ I shove him in the chest, realising I’m not going to get any help from anyone involved. I’m on my own. Turning away from them, I rap on the door. ‘I can feel your stupid grin, Morgan–and yours too, Prentiss.’

‘Ooo, the last names, someone means business.’ Emily teases, but a voice from inside the room invites us in, and I take this as my saving grace.

I open the door to the small back office, holding it wide with my foot so the rest of my team can trickle in. The office is relatively small, lined with filing cabinets, and manned by a desk covered in papers and an overflowing ashtray. Someone has replaced the wooden chairs with two comfier looking arm chairs, though they still look slightly weathered in the dim light. The ceiling fan above is still laden with cobwebs and dust, perpetually unused. Yet another thing that hasn’t changed.

Once the door is shut behind us, I turn my attention to the man sitting behind the desk.

‘June?’ Harold spots me first, his Texan voice thickened by tar and smoke. He has more wrinkles around his eyes now, but the smile is as blinding as the last time I saw it. Harold’s beard is streaked with white, and when he pushes himself to his feet, the silver cane is new, too. ‘Junebug? Is that really you?’

‘Alive and in the flesh.’ I smile, reaching out to hug him as he hobbles towards me. Harold was the one who gave me that moniker barely two days after I started working here. There’s something about the way he says it that doesn’t make me feel like he’s being condescending–in fact, it just reminds me that someone loves me enough to say a nickname with such adoration. I wrap my arms around him and hold on tightly. I try not to focus on how he feels thinner underneath me.

‘So,’ Harold says, stepping away from me but not letting go of my waist–I don’t know if it’s for support or just for show. I don’t really mind either way. He inspects the rest of my team, who are standing awkwardly around. None of them can hide the thinly veiled amusement from their faces, nor the bright curiosity. ‘These your friends?’

‘Yup.’ I nod, not meeting any of their eyes. There’s too much going on right now. Shame is a powerful emotion and even though I know I shouldn’t feel it, I can’t exactly control my own brain. ‘Uh, SSA Hotchner, Prentiss, and Morgan–and that’s Dr. Reid looking uncomfortable in the corner. We’re with the FBI.’

‘The FBI huh?’ Harold affixes me with that appraising stare before pushing away from me. I follow him, keeping my arm out for support. He plops himself down in his chair and leans back. Waggles his cane at me. ‘I never thought one of my best dancers would make it up into the big leagues like that. Good on you, Junebug.’

And there it is.

It takes Spencer about three seconds to process that information. About two times faster than it does for anyone else in the room. I can see the realisation burning red hot behind his brown eyes when he jerks them to me. I can’t hide my expression quickly enough–my blink is all he needs to confirm what Harold said. Spencer’s eyes cloud for a second, lips parted.

When he cocks his head curiously, I can tell exactly what he’s thinking. What he’s imagining in that brain of his. What a little shit. When his eyes focus again, he sees my look of disapproval and flushes. Then, his expression changes–closes off. Becomes unreadable. It’s an annoying talent he has and one of the most frustrating things about him.

‘Thanks, H.’ I clear my throat, ignoring the mercilessly gleeful grin on Emily’s face. ‘Guys, this is Harold, he’s the manager here–if something happened, Harold is the one who’s most likely to know about it.’

‘You were a stripper?’ Derek blurts out. Of course he would be the one to ask first. It just encourages Emily, though. Soon enough, both of them are peppering me with questions like they’re rubber bullets.

‘How long did you work here?’

‘Yeah–were you good?’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

‘Do you still dance?’

‘Was she good?’ Derek directs this last question to Harold, evidently not satisfied with my silence.

‘Jesus Christ, guys, it’s not exactly relevant, is it?’ I snap, feeling a familiar burn of anger and shame. Spencer has remained, thankfully, silent, but is watching me with that blank expression. It’s unsettling. ‘Can we focus? I’ll answer your questions later, we’re here about several murders, let’s not get distracted by the fact that I used to be a stripper.’

‘You ain’t told ‘em till just now?’ Harold says from his seat, voice tinged with amusement and something that strikes me too much as sorrow. When I look at him, he’s surprisingly sad. It hurts me right in the centre of my chest. ‘I can understand that. There ain’t any shame in it, though, Junebug. You loved it here. Sure, you were at rock-bottom, but e’ryone who comes here is. It’s an absolute joy to see you doin’ somethin’ fulfillin’.’

‘Stop it, Harold,’ I say, the words choked somewhere in the back of my throat. A tingling sensation behind my nose threatens to make me sob. His words carve away at something within me, a part of me I haven’t thought about since…well, since I left Elysium. Avoiding looking at the others, I step around to the withered old man. Rest my hand on his shoulder. The next words are a breath of sadness. ‘Thank you.’

He understands that that’s not just for his words today. It’s for everything.

Harold gives me that sad smile again and rests his own hand on top of mine. It’s a connection I haven’t had in a while–Harold always reminded me of my father. Seeing him again is like seeing the ghost of my dad. I can’t afford to break down in front of the others, not when we’re here for a job, so blink furiously at the silver lining around my eyes. I plaster a smile on.

‘Bishop,’ Hotch says, voice low and measured. His words are not unkind and he is the only one out of the entire team that does not look disturbed, surprised, or horrified. Realistically, Hotch probably already knew this about me. I imagine it’s on my file somewhere. ‘If you need to go to the police station, you can. We can handle the questions here.’

‘It’s alright,’ I say, taking a deep breath and schooling my features. I do my best to forget where I am, who I am with–I try to become Dr. Bishop, the FBI agent working on a case that she has no personal connection to. ‘I can do it. Besides, I think Tia might kill me if I leave before she can accost me again.’

‘Alright, then.’ Hotch nods briskly, and the questioning begins.

Hotch leads it, as usual, Derek and Emily still staring at me with those aghast expressions. I don’t care about them, though. Whilst Hotch and Harold discuss the recent murders (three of the girls had been new dancers at Elysium, some of them regulars) and if Harold saw anything suspicious (a few odd cars, but most people who come here are unusual or strange), I keep my eyes trained on Spencer. I want to see what his reaction is, to gauge if I should start thinking about damage control.

He’s busy scouring the room, taking at each of the pictures on the wall. They're all of the dancers Harold has employed. I’m up there somewhere. I wonder if that’s what Spencer is looking for. He stands with one arm across his lower stomach, the other brought up to his chest. Long fingers rub the sharpness of his jaw idly. His eyes work furiously across the walls, committing everything to memory.

Spencer has always been good at disguising his microexpressions, so I doubt that I can ever truly work out what he is thinking from just observing him. The blankness hasn’t gone from him.

I hope he’s relaxed, though, and not severely freaked out. I have no idea what I would do if he was severely freaked out.

‘Hey, Junebug!’ Tia’s melodic voice cuts through my panic crisis-prepping brain fog as she steps into the room, making Spencer jump. I turn to look and see that my gorgeous friend is dragging yet another gorgeous friend into the office. The other girl is tall, willowy, with ice-blonde hair that she’s been carefully maintaining since I knew her. She is wearing a pair of thigh-high blue boots and the tiniest lingerie set I have ever seen. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, this one was a nightmare to find.’

‘It’s true!’ Jas squeaks, her eyes widening as she lays them on me. I barely have enough time to process her being there before she launches herself at me. Despite the fact that she is all bone, Jas is surprisingly strong, and squeezes her arms around my neck. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been so long, what the fuck, June, where have you been?!’

‘Whoa, there, Jas,’ Tia chuckles, gripping Jas by the shoulders and extricating her from me. Grateful, I rub the spot where Jas’s acrylic nails dug into my skin. ‘Give her some breathing space. She’s with the FBI, silly, didn’t you hear me say that?’

‘You’re such a bitch.’ Jas scowls at me as she shakes Tia off, and hits me hard in the upper arm. I yelp in pain, staring at her with an affronted look. She pats the spot where she hit me apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, I just missed you.’

‘No need to get violent.’ I remind her, turning her around to face the rest of my team. ‘We’re here to ask you some questions about the recent murders?’

‘FBI?’ Jas scans my team, her eyes widening as they sweep over each member. Her gaze lingers on Spencer, and I can see the familiar glint of interest sparking in her eyes. She lets out a long, low, appreciative whistle that seems to echo around the small office. I can tell immediately what’s going through her mind, and I brace myself for what is about to happen. Jas angles her head like a cat watching a bird. Her posture shifts. ‘Well, hello there. Aren’t you the most handsome man I’ve ever seen?’

Spencer’s reaction is immediate and intense. His face flushes a deep crimson, the blush spreading down underneath his collar when he realises that she is talking to him. His eyes, wide with surprise and discomfort, immediately lock desperately on me. The way he shifts his weight from foot to foot, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, is so endearingly awkward that I can’t help but find it utterly adorable.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as I watch Jas saunter seductively towards him, hips swaying with each step.

‘Jasmine,’ I interject, my voice is thick with warning, hoping that that hides the jealousy I’m feeling as she begins to circle Spencer like a shark. She trails a hand across the back of his shoulders and I have to resist the urge to physically remove it. Only I am allowed to touch Spencer like that. ‘Behave, please. That’s my colleague.’

What I really want to say is ‘that’s my boyfriend you’re pawing at’, but I can’t. Not when the team is standing right there, watching with varying degrees of amusement. The secret aspect of our relationship hasn’t bothered me as much as it does right now. I don’t know what to do.

‘Oh, come on, Junebug, you’ve never been a prude.’ Jas flashes me a familiar, mischievous grin as she casually straightens Spencer’s collar from behind, her nails scraping across his shirt. I know that expression–I’ve seen it on her several times before she scores a big payout, and Jas always scores big. Bitter jealousy twists in the base of my stomach. ‘If I remember correctly, you would have been all over this one a few years ago. Let me have my fun. What’s your name, handsome?’

‘I–I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.’ He stammers, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he finds the ceiling very interesting. I can practically feel the heat radiating from him. Part of me wants to intervene, to yank her away from him and put an end to this little performance. But another part, a part I am decidedly not proud of, wants to see what Spencer will do. It’s a test of sorts, though I am not sure what I am testing or why.

‘Dr. Spencer Reid.’ Jas purrs, drawing out each syllable as if it’s fine wine. She completes her predatory circle to stand in front of Spencer, giving me an excellent view of her pert behind. It’s not exactly hidden in the thong she’s donned. She twists a stray strand of his hair around her finger. Spencer flinches away from her touch, and I can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. I want to tell her to back off but Derek’s amused expression stops me. ‘A doctor–you’ve always loved a man with brains, Junebug. So, Spencer, what brings you to Elysium? Looking for some extracurricular studies?’

‘We–we’re here about the, the recent murders…’ Spencer chokes out, his voice strained and higher than usual. He’s still staring resolutely at the ceiling, as if trying to solve some complicated mathematical equation etched into the plaster.

‘Yes, we are.’ Hotch cuts in, his voice taking on a sharp and authoritative tone. He places a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder, effectively creating a barrier between him and Jasmine. I feel a rush of gratitude towards my Unit Chief for doing what I could not. ‘We’re hoping you could help us by answering some questions, not by accosting a Federal Agent.’

‘I suppose.’ Jas pouts dramatically, but there is a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. She knows she’s pushed the boundaries a little bit too far. Her shoulders slump in defeat, but she turns back to Spencer. ‘I guess I can behave. But only if the good doctor here promises to buy me a drink. What do you say, gorgeous? Care to hear some stories about our Junebug’s wilder days?’

‘I will buy you that drink, Jasmine.’ I interject quickly, my words coming out harsher than intended. My hand shoots out, curling around her upper arm as I tug her a few steps away from Spencer. I fix her with a stern look, eyebrow raised in silent warning. ‘Leave Spencer alone.’

‘Fine, June, you absolute spoil sport.’ She hisses at me, but there’s no real venom in her tone. If anything, there’s a hint of amusement, as if she’s enjoying this power play. It wouldn’t surprise me. ‘Why don’t all of us go out for a drink, then, if I can’t have Spencer by himself?’

‘Can we focus, please?’ I sigh, not liking the way both Emily and Derek have perked up upon hearing the possibility of getting the juicy information about my ‘wilder days’ as Jasmine so kindly phrased it. ‘We are here on official business–we can gossip later, alright?’

‘Alright, alright, message received.’ Jas rolls her eyes but finally relents. She sits down on Harold’s desk, looking expectantly up at us. ‘Ask away.’

‘Don’t think you can escape, Juniper Bishop.’

Balls.

I turn around sheepishly, one hand on the door to my hotel room. I was so close. If I hadn’t stopped to stock up on snacks, I might have escaped, might have managed to prolong the inevitable until I felt ready to face it. That’s the unfortunate thing about the inevitable, though. It always comes around eventually.

There, standing at the end of the corridor, are Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and JJ. I only need to take one look at the blonde to realise that they have already dobbed me in, and have caught her up to speed about what happened at Elysium. They stand there like hunters spotting prey and knowing it has nowhere else to run.

‘Seriously, guys? Now?’ I sigh, leaning against the doorframe and readjusting the snacks in my arms–the vending machine was limited, but it had Oreos, and that’s good enough for me. Hair falls into my face as I hang my head. ‘I was just gonna watch a film and go to sleep…’

‘Not happening.’ Emily announces, striding over to me and grabbing my upper arm. ‘We’re going to the bar.’

‘The bar?’ I say, dragging my feet but letting her lead me over to the others. I don’t like the way they are looking at me. I feel like a student being dragged to the headmaster’s office for a scolding. ‘We haven’t solved the case yet, surely it’s a bad idea to drink on the job?’

‘Then order a soda.’ JJ grips my other arm and they frog march me towards the top of the stairs.

‘Guys.’ I whine, trying to dig my heels into the plush carpet, and failing spectacularly. It’s no use. I am dragged rather roughly down the stairs and towards the hotel bar, my protests falling on deaf ears. ‘Come on, this is ridiculous–’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Spencer, save me!’ I call, looking over my shoulder to spot my handsome boyfriend by the lift, his head angled curiously as he witnesses what is essentially my death march. JJ and Emily take no prisoners, though, and continue to haul me towards the bar.

‘We’re just gonna ask her some questions, that’s all.’ Derek says, talking to Spencer as if he’s just found out that I am a suspect in a gruesome murder. Spencer blinks, confused, and starts to trail after us. ‘Care to join?’

When we reach the bar, I am deposited unceremoniously into a booth, being wedged in by Emily and opposed by JJ. Derek and Spencer don’t take long to join us, the former drifting off towards the bar with a firm warning not to start without him. The latter sits down beside JJ. I glare at them, arms folded across my chest, Oreos abandoned on the table.

‘You brought this upon yourself, you know.’ Emily says, all high and mighty. She rests her elbows on the bar and cocks her head at me. ‘I mean, I knew there was something…different about you, but this? This is not what I was expecting.’

‘Oh my God.’ I groan, staring down at the table rather than at their three pairs of inquisitorial eyes. Spencer’s gaze is the hardest one to avoid and the worst one to meet. He’s guarded his expression so I can’t fully read it, but judging from the way he has his arms crossed, he isn’t going to come to my rescue. Evidently he’s just as curious as the rest of them. ‘Was all this really necessary?’

‘You were the one trying to hole up in your room.’ JJ says with a casual shrug, glancing over to where Derek is paying for a selection of drinks. ‘Forgive us for trying to get to the bottom of this.’

‘There isn’t anything to get to the bottom of!’ I say, voice rising in volume and in pitch. ‘I think you guys are making this out to be worse than it actually is.’

‘Aw, come on, hotstuff, we’re just curious.’ Derek says, putting down a circular black tray in the middle of the table. He divvies off the drinks, placing what suspiciously looks like a G&T in front of me. Despite my earlier reluctance to imbibe, I’m kind of grateful. I might need alcohol to get through this. Once he’s done, he pulls up a stool and heads the table. ‘Can you blame us?’

‘Yes.’ I retort, slumping back in my seat and scowling. ‘Fine. Fine. Ask away.’

‘How come you never told us you used to be a stripper?!’ Emily cuts right to the chase, leaning forward even further. If her eyes could get any wider, they would. She resembles one of those weird marsupials with the long fingers that tap on trees to eat the bugs.

‘It…it never came up.’ I shrug, running my finger along the edge of my glass and glancing at Spencer. He’s still utterly unreadable, stirring the ice around his drink with a straw. He’s watching me carefully, probably looking for any microexpressions or tells–fucker knows me too well at this point. Unlike him, I’ve never been good at hiding things. ‘It’s not exactly something you just casually tell people, especially when you now work for the FBI. It’s…frowned upon.’

‘I suppose I can understand that.’ JJ concedes, taking a sip of her drink. ‘When were you working there?’

‘Oh, maybe, like, five, six years ago?’ I copy her movement, letting the gin blaze down my throat. It’s relaxing.

‘So…was this before or after your PhD?’

‘After. I was in the middle of completing another undergrad at Cornell when…well, when I started to dance.’

‘Another undergrad?’ Derek says, apparently more surprised at my academic achievements than the fact that I used to get naked and dance around for money.

‘Yes, Derek, another one.’ I laugh, sipping my drink again and let myself watch Spencer watching me. ‘I was bored after finishing my PhD and felt like doing another degree–it was psychology, which now that I think about it, is kind of ironic.’

‘So…were you dancing to pay off your debt?’ Emily asks, her curiosity piqued. Her bright brown eyes sparkle with intrigue. I’m apparently the most fascinating thing she has seen in quite some time. ‘I mean, degrees are expensive, were you having money problems?’

‘No, it wasn’t the money.’ I confirm, eyes flickering down to trace the pattern of the wood. I have to be careful here, and I have to choose my words with the utmost precision. God, sometimes talking to these guys feels a lot like sitting an exam. ‘It was…well, there were a lot of things going on, and I felt very out of control. I don’t know, I think dancing gave me the control…and the escape…that I needed.’

‘There are other ways to get control.’ Spencer finally speaks, and I almost flinch at the rawness of his words. When I look at him, he’s staring down into his drink. His tone is laced with disapproval. ‘Why…why would you do something like that?’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I have no shame in it.’ I say, somewhat harsher than intended. ‘I loved dancing. It was empowering and freeing, and brought me a lot of joy. But I started it for the wrong reasons, and unfortunately it facilitated habits I really should have been trying to break rather than…well, rather than indulging.’

‘And, according to Harold, you were good. In fact, I think he said you were one of the best.’ Derek grins cheekily at me, eyes roving over my body. I can see Spencer tense out of the corner of my eye at Derek’s words, his shoulders closing inwards. This is dangerous territory.

‘Stop picturing it, Morgan–never gonna happen.’ I flick an ice cube at him, but laugh to show him I am actually teasing.

‘Wait, really?’ Emily sounds genuinely upset, gaping at me. The concept that Emily Prentiss was actually considering asking me to dance for her blows my mind.

‘Oh, come off it, I’m not gonna strip for my coworkers!’

‘Even if I paid you?’ Derek flirts, leaning towards me and flashing me his characteristic wink.

‘Oh, Derek, sweetheart,’ I let the words roll around my tongue, let them drip seductively from my lips. I focus all of my attention onto him as if he were another patron eager for something from Elysium. My eyes trail slowly across his handsome face, lingering on the firm jaw, sticking to his slightly parted mouth. Derek swallows–hard. He leans in just a little bit more. ‘You wouldn’t be able to afford me.’

‘Damn…’ Derek blinks as if clearing his eyes off water. The others (minus Spencer) are laughing at us, and I join in. Derek, to his credit, moves past it with dignity. ‘Worth a shot, eh.’

‘You’re a pig, Morgan,’ JJ steps to my rescue, sneering at our coworker. ‘What would Garcia say if she could hear that?’

‘Hell, she’d probably ask me to split the cost with her.’ Derek winks at me again, but I don’t indulge him this time. I’m watching Spencer, and my heart is sinking.

He hasn’t touched his drink. It just sits in front of him, condensation forming a ring around the bottom. Spencer is staring down into it as if it’s the most interesting thing he has ever seen, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. I know that if I looked under the table, his hands are most likely either fiddling with the seam of his slacks, or balled in his lap.

He looks…angry. Hurt. Betrayed, almost. I don’t really blame him. It’s a lot to hear, and I should have told him when he asked me about it on the plane. Spencer doesn’t ask for much, but what he does ask for is transparency. Truth.

I don’t know why I didn’t tell him. I want to reach out and touch him, apologise for not mentioning it to him, and apologise for the fact that when I am telling him, it’s surrounded by our coworkers. I can’t reassure him in the way that I want.

What I want to do is hold him and kiss him and tell him that none of the past matters now that my future is his. I have never regretted keeping our relationship underwraps–it works for us, especially considering it’s so new, but…but right now, it sucks.

As I continue to watch him adamantly not looking at me, I wonder if I actually do know the reason why I didn’t tell him. Maybe I didn’t tell him because some small part of me didn’t want him looking at me like that. Like I am dirty, or impure, or whatever disgusting words people use for strippers.

‘So, let me get this straight.’ JJ is saying, seeing off the remainders of her drink. ‘You started dancing because you were in a rough patch. That’s fine. What made you stop?’

‘Hah, my mother.’ My laughter is dry, and I take another sip of my drink. ‘She’s very good at being disappointed. She basically sorted me out, sent me off to complete my undergrad. I haven’t danced since.’

‘Do you miss it?’

‘Sometimes, Em, sometimes.’ I smile at her, trying to squish down any thoughts of Spencer’s upset gaze. ‘I mean, not the sleazy pricks, or the teenagers who don’t know how to listen to boundaries, but I miss my friends–Tia, Jas, Harold–and I miss the freeness of it. If you guys haven’t had some kind of pole class or something, I seriously recommend it.’

‘You could teach us.’ JJ suggests.

I laugh dryly, swilling my drink. ‘You and Emily, sure, but Spencer and Derek on a pole? Could be questionable…’

‘Hey, I’ll have you know I would be a very good stripper!’

‘Whatever you say, Derek.’ I roll my eyes at him but I can’t stop the laughter. I finish off my drink and am very glad that I decided to accept it. Alcohol warms me from the inside. Makes this whole conversation so much easier. ‘So…are you guys satisfied? Can I go to bed–can I eat my Oreos?’

‘No way, Hops, we’re only just getting started.’ Emily grins naughtily at me and gestures for Derek to get another round. Before he can, though, Spencer is already standing and walking away from the table towards the bar without a word. Ouch. It’s clear he’s not very impressed. He hasn’t even finished his drink. ‘We still have so many questions.’

‘Like, did you have a stage name?’

‘What kind of dances did you do? Pole, group, private?’

‘Did you have a signature move?’

‘Do you still have a stripper playlist? If so, can I have it?’

‘Did you ever fall off the pole?’

‘What was the most money you made in one night?’

‘Did you have any regulars? Like, people who came in just to see you?’

‘Did any of them ever try to take you home?’

‘Did you let them?’

‘Oh my God, guys!’ I have to slam my hands on the table to get them to shut up, the words coming in a breathless laugh. I think Derek might have gotten me a double because the alcohol has loosened my tongue and I’m genuinely considering answering them. ‘One question at a time, please.’

It is then that Spencer returns, passing around the drinks quickly. He can’t even look me in the eye as he sits down and goes back to staring into his drink. My mind whirrs with ways to rectify this problem, but it’s not as if I can go back and change the past. Spencer has to come to terms with this on his own merit, and all I can do is wait.

‘Tell us everything.’ Emily gushes, taking a healthy swig of her fresh drink.

‘Everything? Do you think you can handle everything, Spencer?’ I don’t know why I call him out like that. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I chase the icky feeling away with a swig of another double G&T.

Spencer finally looks up, his eyes meeting mine for the first time in what feels like hours. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze–hurt, maybe? Anger? Perhaps even a hint of arousal. I can’t fully tell, and that scares me. Spencer opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Derek interrupts.

‘Hey, Reid, don’t tell me you’re not curious.’ Derek nudges him playfully, but Spencer doesn’t react. He just continues to stare at me, expression unreadable. I have no idea what that look is trying to say. ‘Come on, man, we all wanna hear about Junebug’s wild past.’

‘Don’t call me that.’ I snap, shaking my head at Derek. I don’t know why, but hearing that old nickname on his tongue upsets me. Derek shows me the palms of his hands in apology and I’m pleased to see that my little outburst has shifted his focus away from Spencer.

‘Come on,’ JJ sighs, cutting Derek and Spencer a curious glare. ‘Tell us everything.’

I hesitate for a moment, taking another drink. How much to reveal? I realise that I am going to have to toe a careful line between what is suitable to tell them, and what I want to take to the grave. They are my friends first, though. Colleagues second. There’s not much point in hiding anymore, not if they still want to go out for drinks with Jas and Tia when we’ve finished the case. There’s no going back.

‘Alright.’ I take a deep breath and start to pull at my fingernails. ‘But don’t judge me, okay?’

‘We promise.’ Emily says, voice so sincere that it almost hurts. She raises her glass in a mock toast, and the others follow suit–even Spencer raises his glass, though his movements are more stilted, eyes clouded with that mixture of emotions I’m driving myself insane trying to decipher.

‘I did dance under a stage name–it was Cassandra, or Cass. I chose it because–’

‘Because of the priestess?’ Spencer’s words are a mere mumble, but I am so attuned into him that I hear him. He’s looking somewhere in the region of my collar, but at least he’s looking at me.

‘Yeah. Precisely. She was this Trojan priestess that was cursed to see the future, but for no one to believe her, but I chose it because of what the name means, etymologically.’

‘Bless you.’ Emily teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Go on, what does it mean?’

‘The Greek spelling is with a K, so ‘kassos’ means to excel, and ‘andros’ means over men. So her name literally means ‘to excel over men’. I was quite proud of that one.’

‘Damn…and did you? Excel over men?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ I grin, taking a sip. ‘I did a variety of different types of dances–you kind of have to do all of them, really. No favourite moves, a couple of regulars that came in just to watch me, and yes, Emily, I do still have my playlist. To answer your question, Derek, a couple of them tried to take me home, and only one succeeded.’

‘What?’ Spencer’s word is perfectly formed, a bullet that pierces through the alcoholic armour I’d been establishing. I blink in surprise. He is staring at me with his mouth slightly parted, such a betrayed look on his face that I’m cut deep to the core. Spencer had seemed content to stay out of the conversation, but this is perhaps the first sign I get about how he’s actually feeling. ‘You slept with the people you danced for?’

‘Only one, and that was a long time ago–’ I say, wondering how only Spencer can get me feeling so defensive and so eager to alleviate his concerns.

‘It doesn’t matter when it was.’ Spencer’s voice is sharp, but he remains motionless, evidently not wanting to give away too much. The rest of the team are leaning back in their seats to get away from the tense energy now crackling between us. Emily is looking between us with a curious expression. ‘You slept with someone you barely knew, someone who saw you as nothing more than a–’

‘Than a what, Spencer? Go on, say ‘whore’, I know you want to.’ I snap back, slamming my glass down onto the table more violently than intended. Spencer flashes hurt eyes at me. ‘Jesus, Spencer, it’s my life–my old life–and I did what I wanted with it. I don’t need to explain it to you.’

‘No, no, don’t worry,’ Spencer scoffs, voice laced with bitterness. ‘I’ve worked it out. You used to sell your body for money, let men ogle you and touch you and degrade you, and you slept with one of them just because you thought, what, you thought it was fun? That doesn’t make you a stripper, June, that makes you a hooker.’

‘What the fuck, Reid?’ My words are soft, but the meaning is harsh. I’m hurt. I’ve heard those words a thousand times, from a thousand different people, but hearing it from Spencer–my Spencer–sucks the life right out of me. It’s as if it’s the first time I’m hearing it. All I want to do is run away and hide, but I can’t. ‘Don’t talk to me like that. You have no idea what it was like.’

‘Oh, but I do. I’ve seen the crime scenes.’ Spencer’s voice is cold. Clinical. Detached. It breaks my heart a little. ‘I’ve seen what those men do to women like you, I know how they treat you, how they view you. And you willingly put yourself in that position–it’s…it’s disgusting and, and–’

‘Stop it!’ I snap, slamming my hands onto the table. His words hit me like a physical blow, knocking all of the air out of my lungs. My eyes line with silver. I can’t believe he’s saying this to me, I can’t comprehend that he thinks that about me. I rise out of my seat, towering over the table. ‘Stop fucking talking, Reid. How dare you?’

‘Whoa, hey, easy now…’ Emily puts out a warning arm between us and I am suddenly reminded that the rest of the team are there. They have shifty looks on their faces. ‘Let’s all just calm down.’

‘No, actually–actually, I’m done.’ I sigh, seeing off my drink and gesturing for Emily to get out of the booth. ‘I’m leaving. Fuck this.’

I grab my snacks and my phone before pushing out past the rest of them and making a beeline for the door. I can hear their voices call out after me, but I don’t care. Even when I see Spencer rise too, as if making to follow me, I don’t change my trajectory. Thankfully Derek yanks Spencer back down into his seat. At least that’s one less thing to worry about. I stalk out of the bar as quickly as possible.

It’s only when I’m in the lift that I let the hot, salty tears start to fall.

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

[mouseycometz]

Starscream and Juniper: Dynamic Rundown

Ah, these two…my main ship for my AU!

Early on, Starscream certainly doesn’t like her, but he doesn’t despite her with a passion either. At least, not as much as he says he does. Starscream, although repulsed by humans, does find value in Juni. He was the one who suggested that Megatron should keep her in the first place. After all, the Autobots use humans to their advantage, don’t they?

Of course, he still complains about her, huffing about how high maintenance she is and the like. Similarly, she frequently scowls at him. She hates it whenever he refers to her as “vermin”, and rightfully calls him out on it. She knows that he can’t do anything to harm her with Megatron around. The two snark at each other constantly, but there’s no genuine malice.

After a mission that went awry, Megatron actually tries to beat Starscream for almost murdering her in the cockpit of his jet mode.

(It’s accidental. Starscream wanted to scare her with loop-de-loops, unaware that she required a g-suit and a helmet).

Before Megatron could punish him too severely, Juniper makes it out of the medical bay at just the right moment to stop him. She brings Starscream to the lab to treat his wounds, and then she stays with him for the rest of the night. The Seeker is absolutely puzzled. He believes that she wants something from him; he cannot fathom the fact that she saved him from the kindness of her heart.

This is a crucial moment in their story. It helps the two change their tune about each other. It’s also brought up again much later, during another significant moment in my AU.

During their MECH Arc/Rogue Arc, the two grow closer together. It’s much easier since they’re both away from Megatron and the Nemesis. Well, at least at that point. Season Three is rough on both of them.

Starscream learns to view Juniper as a friend. The feeling is mutual on her part as well. Sure, there’s some ups and downs, even a tremendous mistake on Starscream’s end (which involves the creation of her scar).

It takes PLENTY of time, devotion, patience, and trust for them to reach a certain level of intimacy and closeness together. It’s difficult, but definitely not impossible.

When the two form a connection, Starscream is SUCH a tease towards her, and Juniprr responds with peeps and blushes, just the way he likes it. However, there are instances where she flips the tables on him to surprise him!

Eventually, Starscream vows to never let her be hurt again, especially by him.

He even has two special names for her! It’s either “Mouse/Little Mouse” or “Comet”. The former refers to her cuteness and smallness, a huge step up from the initial “rodent” meaning. The latter pet name, however, comes from her love for outer space. During their shared arc as rogues, they stargazed and Starscream told her about living Cybertron.

Much like him, Juni calls him “Raptor” or “Dove”. The latter, of course, is used during moments of sweetness without teasing (such as the former).

Starscream becomes possessive and a bit jealous sometimes, such as when Juni hangs out with her best friend, Tayden, or the other bots. Still, her heart continues to stay with the same cybertronian.

Besides Dreadwing, Soundwave, and the predacons, Starscream is the only mech who listens to her sing. Initially, he teases her for it (which sucks). However, he grows to appreciate it. Juniprr can sing pretty damn well actually, she just doesn’t outwardly sing in front of others. She’s too shy. She will, however, hum for Starscream. Maybe even sing so, so very softly for him.

After the war and Cybertron’s revival, the two experience nightmares. It requires comfort from both parties. It’s something soft and gentle, just what they need.

Stargazing is still a common pastime for them! Only now, after she receives her upgrade from Primus (the pink and gold suit) Juniper can fly and keep up with him, too. He finally has a flying buddy!

On Earth, Juniper likes to bring him to the beach. As a former lifeguard, the redhead LOVES to swim. Starscream? Not really, but he admires her in her bathing suit.

Although she forms friendships in unlikely places, she shares her strongest bond with Starscream. It’s not hard to see why. The two go through a lot together, but they preserve, a shared trait between them, and I’m proud of them.

Divider Credit: @/saradika

Art Credit: @/destinysquared

[clangenrising]

Month 16 - Greenleaf

When Aldertail had volunteered to go herb gathering with him, Oddstripe had been delighted but he had definitely expected her to get tired and lose interest by this point. The day was hot but there was a nice breeze and, as they meandered the territory looking for patches that hadn’t already been harvested, Oddstripe couldn’t help but smile. 

“Y’know, I’d really love to find some thyme or juniper,” he said, hopping over a stone in his path. 

“What do those do?” Aldertail asked, carefully picking her way after him. Her legs were the best he’d ever seen them. There was almost no redness and the fur had nearly grown back in. Oddstripe was so proud.

“Thyme is very calming and juniper berries are just all around useful. On top of being calming, they soothe belly aches, help with coughs, and they can even treat aching joints when mixed with the proper herbs. I’d love to get some for Sagetooth.” 

Aldertail’s ears pressed back briefly. “Mm, would that help?”

“Oh, yes,” Oddstripe nodded. “When she isn’t suffering from her aches, she’s really, actually very kind. It can just be hard for her to stay that way when she’s in a lot of pain.” 

“I guess,” Aldertail shrugged. “I feel like you don’t just start being mean to people though, if that makes sense.” 

“I get what you mean,” said Oddstripe, “but something you have to remember is that your body and your mind aren’t two separate entities. They’re both you and they influence each other.” Aldertail winced in an attempt to seem less skeptical. Oddstripe laughed a little and tried to think of a better way to explain. “Oh, for example, when your mind starts to run wild, you feel sick to your stomach right?”

“Yeah,” Aldertail nodded. 

“So that’s your mind influencing your body!” Oddstripe grinned. “But the inverse is also possible. Like, if you’re very scared, we do those deep breaths and the act of calming your body calms your mind.” Aldertail hummed thoughtfully. “So when Sagetooth’s body aches it makes it harder for her to control the way she speaks to people. You’re right that it doesn’t make her something she isn’t but it’s also not entirely her choice. Even I can get snappy when I’m stressed or ill.” 

“Really?” Aldertail didn’t seem convinced. “I can’t picture you snappy.” 

Oddstripe blushed and laughed as he replied, “Oh, that’s very sweet of you.”

“It’s true,” she said. “You’ve only ever been kind and gentle.” 

“Well, I’ve been lucky that I’ve never felt ill enough to snap at you,” he said, full of pride. 

“Mm,” Aldertail chewed her lip. “So where would we find juniper berries?” 

“Hmm,” Oddstripe scrunched up his face in thought. “I know a place they’ll definitely be but its a bit of a distance. Would you still want to come along?” 

“Of course!” she nodded vigorously. “I like learning about medicine.” 

“Really?” asked Oddstripe. 

“Mhm,” nodded Aldertail. “It’s so… powerful. I can’t imagine being able to do what you do.” 

“Oh, it’s really not that hard to learn,” Oddstripe said, changing course. “I’ll show you.”

As they made their way towards the juniper bushes, Oddstripe went over all of the basics he could think of. Healing was something he was intensely passionate about and Aldertail indulged him in his ramblings for the entirety of their walk. Oddstripe couldn’t remember the last time someone had let him ramble like this. It felt amazing. 

They crossed the eastern border and Oddstripe assured Aldertail that everything would be alright. Eventually, the grass petered out and the earth beneath their paws turned to dry, sunbaked mud patterned with cracks and ridges. Oddstripe smiled at the feeling of it under his paws. It had been too long since he’d stepped foot in the desert and he had missed it. They passed little burrows and scurrying lizards and dry looking shrubs and then finally came across the big juniper bush.

“Tada!” Oddstripe declared, unfurling his tail towards the cloudless sky. 

“This is a juniper bush?” Aldertail asked, glancing around its leaves as if something would jump out. 

“Mhm!” he purred. “The berries near the bottom are usually gone because creatures eat them but we can jump up and snag a few branches to take home. Maybe we could even plant one closer to the territories.”

“That would be a good idea,” Aldertail squirmed. “I don’t like this place.” 

“Really?” asked Oddstripe, tilting his head.

“Yeah, it’s too open,” she shuddered. “Let’s hurry up and go home.” 

“Alright,” he frowned worriedly. He’d never considered that someone might not enjoy being able to see the world stretch out endlessly around them. He bunched his legs underneath him and sprang into the bush, but failed to grab onto any of the branches. “Mousedung. Let me try again.” 

He jumped again, this time snagging a branch in his teeth, and his weight pulled it down to a place where Aldertail could help him snap it off. He handed the branch over to her and tried again. The leaves rattled as he fell through them, this time taking another two tries before he caught another branch in his claws. It nearly slipped and he had to scramble to clamp his jaws down around it, smearing berry juice all over his muzzle. 

“Are you okay?” asked Aldertail. 

“Uh huh,” he said awkwardly. “‘Ah you ‘reah ih?” 

“Oh, right! Sorry!” Aldertail hurried forward to start chewing through the branch.

“S’alrigh’,” he chuckled, feeling silly. She met his eyes and flushed pink, quickly averting her gaze to focus on her work. He laughed again. She was such a sweetheart. 

A voice startled them both. “You shouldn’t be out here.” 

Aldertail squeaked and flattened herself against the ground. Oddstripe tried to turn around but struggled to do so without letting go of the branch which didn’t occur to him at all. The cat who had spoken, thankfully, stepped to the side into his view. She was a plain looking grey tabby with bright, golden eyes, and she was watching them with an expression that read to Oddstripe as professional. 

“Oh, sahhy,” he tried to say around the branch in his teeth. 

A small smile poked at the edges of the stranger’s lips and she glanced carefully at Aldertail before asking, “Would you like a paw?”

“Mm!” Oddstripe grinned and nodded clumsily. “Mhm!”

The stranger chuckled softly, dropping her gaze to her paws for a moment, before she stepped up and swatted the branch where Aldertail had been chewing it. The force of the blow was enough to snap it and Oddstripe stumbled away as the rest of the branch sprang noisily back into place. Aldertail squeaked again, and scrunched herself closer to his side. 

He laid his tail over her back, dropped the branch, and then licked his muzzle before speaking. “Thank you! I really appreciate the help. My name’s Oddstripe, what’s yours.” 

“Oscar,” the she-cat smiled with a polite dip of her head. “I’m glad to be of assistance but I really must urge you to leave this place.” 

“Oh?” asked Oddstripe, ears perking. “What for?” 

“This is coyote territory,” she said, scanning the area with a sharp gaze. “You aren’t safe here.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize the coyotes had come so far west,” Oddstripe said. 

“You live here?” asked Oscar, brow furrowing. 

“No, no, but I used to live near here,” he said. “Now I’m out in the grasslands.” 

“I see,” Oscar nodded. “Well, I must insist you return home, for your own safety.” 

“We will, thank you,” smiled Oddstripe.

Oscar glanced around again and said, “Should you require an escort, I would be happy to oblige.” 

“I don’t think it would hurt,” Oddstripe said. “Aldertail, honey, is that alright with you?” Aldertail simply shrugged, eyes wide enough to show the whites. 

Oddstripe’s ears drooped in pity. “Oh, you poor thing. Here, let’s head back to camp.” He licked her cheek and helped her stand, then handed her one of the juniper sprigs to carry. Having something in her mouth would keep her occupied, he thought. Picking up his own branch, he glanced at Oscar and said, “It’s just this way.” 

“I follow your lead,” she deferred with a bow of the head. Oddstripe blushed, a silly little flutter dancing in his stomach. Something about her seemed right out of a story. He’d never felt that way before. 

Shrugging it off, he led the way, tail wrapped around Aldertail’s leg reassuringly. She stayed close to his side, ears flat against her skull, and Oscar stayed on the opposite side of him, at least two tail lengths away. Oddstripe wanted to walk closer but the distance was probably best for Aldertail. How considerate of their new companion, he thought. 

“So, Oscar,” he asked, able to speak around the sprig this time, “why are you out here in coyote country?” 

“I’m patrolling,” she said. “I look for creatures like you and give them the warning.” 

“Creatures?” Oddstripe chuckled but Oscar nodded seriously.

“Yes. Anything I can speak to. Cats, deer, snakes, most birds.”

“Wow!” Oddstripe marveled. “That’s amazing! I didn’t realize you could talk to those kinds of things.” 

“It’s simple if you have a teacher,” said Oscar humbly. 

“It seems most things are,” laughed Oddstripe. 

It wasn’t long before they reached the edge of the grass again. Oscar stopped under a scrubby little tree and said. “I should return to my patrol. Will you be able to get home from here?” 

“Oh, yes,” nodded Oddstripe. “Thank you so much, Oscar, it was lovely to meet you.”

She shook her head. “I’m simply doing my duty.”

“Well, thank you anyway,” said Oddstripe. She smiled, dipped her head in a polite bow, and then turned and bounded back into the desert. Oddstripe watched her go like he was trying to catch every last moment of her before she disappeared forever. Eventually, her shape disappeared into the shimmering edge of the horizon. 

“Oddstripe?” asked Aldertail quietly. 

“Oh,” he blinked and looked down at her. “Yes, dear?” 

“I’d like to go home, is that okay?” 

“Oh, of course it is,” he said, “let’s go home.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, that’s alright. Sorry I got distracted.” 

“What was her deal?” Aldertail asked, craning her head to see if she could spot Oscar in the distance.

“I don’t know,” Oddstripe breathed softly, doing the same.

[misssakuramochi]

FIELDS OF MISTRIA HEADCANONS

GENERAL SMUT HEADCANONS FOR THE BACHELORETTES

Minors DNI - Smut below the cut 🍋

(Minors found interacting with this post will be blocked. Thank you.)

Adeline

○ While Adeline's sex drive leans towards the higher side, her sense of responsibility and workload don't allow her to take care of it as often as she'd like. Though she doesn't initiate often during solo time with her partner, Adeline is usually so pent up she's given to cave any time her partner approaches during the day when she still has energy. Quickies are extremely common as a result, and while Adeline isn't exactly into semi-public sex she's often too worked up to care so long as you won't be seen.

○ Doggy is without a doubt Adeline's favourite position. Being spread out while her partner fucks her from behind turns her on to an embarrassing degree. Adeline especially loves to be bent over a surface. The desk in her office is a common candidate, but she's just as happy over a kitchen counter or coffee table. If her feet are just off the floor she's even happier.

○ Though she's extremely embarrassed by the fact, Adeline tends to be a squirter. She'll go so far as to actively discourage partners from doing something too pleasurable for fear of the mess she'll make, but with encouragement she certainly isn't opposed to be overwhelmed with pleasure until you're both dripping.

○ It's not too hard to overwhelm Adeline, honestly. While she likes to be overstimulated and enjoys intensity, she is physically very sensitive. She can fully cum in her panties just rubbing against her thighs doing paperwork. That being said, it doesn't take her overly long to recover, either, and Adeline can usually orgasm multiple times per session.

○ Adeline loves when her partner cums on her face. There's something about being claimed in that way that hits all the right notes for her. She looks absolutely adorable on her knees with her tongue out, desperate eyes begging her partner to cum all over her. She likes to make a show out of licking some of it up afterwards too, before her partner helps her clean up.

xxx

Celine

○ Romantically and sexually, Celine is very emotionally driven. The things that turn her on and make her want to sleep with her partner are always based in their actions: treating nature with kindness, being sweet and gentle with her, passion for the things they love... traditional touching and flirting can often be overwhelmingly straightforward for her. Celine is a slow burn kinda woman, but the flame that lights is a passionate one.

○ Celine is very much a romantic. She doesn't need to be fully wined and dined or anything like that (though she wouldn't complain if someone were to do so) but for her, sex is all about the love shared between her and her partner. As such, she only enjoys physical intimacy in private where she and her partner can lavish one another with their full devotion and attention.

○ Celine loves oral. There's something extremely intimate and sexy to her about both giving and receiving pleasure in that manner. If she has an opportunity to go down on her partner, she'll want to take it. Celine is much more shy about asking to receive, but she's over the moon if her partner offers.

○ What Celine lacks in experience she more than makes up for in enthusiasm. Eager to please and ready to learn how her partner ticks, she does best with a partner who's willing to give her direction. Obedient to a fault, Celine loves to be praised for her efforts.

○ Celine has a surprising amount of stamina in the bedroom; that is to say, she lasts a long time but she cums just as hard. Though it takes time to work her up enough to get here there she's more than satisfied with once per session. Celine is also adamantly reciprocal; if you please her, she's pleasing you.

xxx

Juniper

○ Juniper loves to play hard to get. Not only does she want someone to prove they're actually interested in her before letting them in, but she loves the chase. Unlike Celine, Juniper does need to be wined and dined. A top-class brat, it can be a little hard to decipher when her jabs become flirtatious. She'll never admit it, but she loves a partner who can make her eat her words behind closed doors and put her in her place, so to speak.

○ Juniper loves to roleplay. Her closet is full of sexy costumes she pretends are for Halloween, and even sexier themed lingerie. Honestly, she's not overly picky about the scenario as long as it's sexy and she gets to look sexy - nurse/doctor, secretary, airport stewardess... buy her an outfit and she'll wear it for you (as long as it's a good outfit, of course.) Juniper only likes to roleplay herself in another position, however; she's not into character cosplay.

○ If you just assume the resident witch incorporates magic into her bedroom play then youre-- absolutely correct, actually. She knows a couple fun spells to keep herself and her partner entertained (bedsheets that suddenly tie their wrists up, temperature manipulation... that kind of thing) but the biggest way this comes into play is with potions. It's not uncommon that the potions she has her partner test are powerful aphrodisiacs, sensory enhancers, or other similar things.

○ Of course Juniper also loves sex in the bath. She has plenty of bath bombs, soaps, and scented products with similar affects to the postions described above. Now, she isn't about to close the bathhouse down just to fuck, but whenever Juniper asks her partner to meet her there after hours they can have a pretty good idea what she has in mind. Something about the luxury of sex in a huge bath with all sorts of products to enhance every moment makes Juniper weak in the knees.

○ Nothing takes Juniper off guard quite like being sweet to her in the bedroom. Generally speaking she prefers things a little rough and more intense, but small actions in the midst of all that that remind her that her partner genuinely cares about her, be it a form of praise or a gentle touch, make her brain go fuzzy.

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Reina

○ Reina may as well be a professional tease. She's extremely subtle in the way she goes about it but the things she says and the touches she presses ever so gently to her partners skin are too intentional for them to miss. She loves working them up in hopes that they'll take the pent up energy out on her once they're alone. Reina isn't as much of a brat as Juniper, nor the same type, but she certainly has a rebellious streak deep down.

○ Reina loves lingerie. Anything that makes her feel cute makes her all the happier. While she doesn't have too many pieces on her own, she both loves to recieve things from her partner that they want to see her in and to shop for cute sets with her partner - she might surprise them with something she thinks they'll like every now and again too. Reina is more than happy, if not insistent to put on a fashion show for her partner to show off how she looks in every single piece before they get to take them off of her.

○ Dry humping is a huge turn on for Reina. She especially loves crawling onto her partners lap in their shirt and a pair of panties and kissing them until they're both fully grinding into one another. If her partner hits the right buttons they might be able to get her to cum in her panties - if she doesn't make them do it first.

○ Please spank her. When Reina acts up it's because she wants to be punished. While she doesn't like anything too rough, being bent over her partners lap while they slap her ass makes her squeal. She also likes having her hair pulled in the midst of things. In turn she can be a touch rough herself with digging nails tugging across her partners skin or tugging through their hair, though she tries to be gentle if her partner's sensitive.

○ Reina is very vocal and often struggles not to be too loud when with a partner. When she's feeling particularly good Reina sometimes starts to babble, telling her partner how good she feels, not to stop, ect. She also wants to hear her partner and takes pride in all the different sounds she can get them to make when she rotates her hips just right. If the situation calls for being quieter Reina doesn't mind if her partner covers her mouth.

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Valen

○ Valen is a doctor. As such, she isn't the least bit shy about anything sexual. Eloquent and well-spoken, she isn't the least bit crude, but she is straightforward. If she wants someone she'll tell them exactly how she'd take them if the invitation arises. Valen is the queen of dirty talk and loves to see how hot and bothered she can get her partner before she even touches them.

○ Valen loves sex toys. She has a sizable collection of all sorts - some for her, others for partners with specific interests. While Valen loves having vibes used on her, she's very much into pegging and loves using different dildos on her partner. She's also big on restraints. Valen doesn't have much interest in public sex, but offering to give her the remote to a toy you're wearing at the bar might change her mind.

○ Overstimulation might be Valen's first middle name - edging would be the second one. Pushing the boundaries of where pleasure turns to pain and how much of a good thing is too much thrills her. That being said, she is extremely attentive to her partner and sets up all sorts of safe signals to ensure she never pushes too far. Her partner is absolutely spoiled during aftercare and isn't allowed to so much as get up so she can take care of them - doctors orders.

○ Valen is more of a giver sexually. As much as she gets in the mood, she more often gets the most pleasure from getting her partner off. It's not overly uncommon for her to use her hands, mouth, and/or toys to please her partner without particularly wanting anything sexual in return. The clouded pleasure in their eyes as they recover on her bed is often more than enough to satisfy her.

○ Valen likes to use seemingly innocent things as excuses to tease her partner. She'll offer to give them a massage or teach them some stretches, for example, only to brush her hands everywhere she knows they're sensitive and linger just a little too long where she needn't. Of course, she keeps up the innocent charade well, only caving once her partner is desperate enough to beg her.

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A/N: Thank you all so much for the love on the bachelor version of this post! A few people asked for a bachelorette set of headcanons and as promised, I have delivered!

I hope you've enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

[beastlybardou]

The Aesthetics of Identity and Self Imposed Homesickness

As I worked on a playlist for myself and my werewolf identity, I came across something that I had never noticed before: the way that the aesthetics I associate with my identity make me feel more out of place in my current life.

I associate my werewolf identity with, well, probably the same things most people associate wolves and werewolves with. Frigid cold mountain ranges, dark frozen forests of birch and pine, bubbling streams lined with fern and moss, the bugle of elk and growls of bears, the absence of humanity for miles upon miles - the cold, isolated wilderness of the north. Engaging with these aesthetics makes me feel euphoric and at home. You can imagine then how it feels to get offline and live in the burning hot ranch-land plains of Texas. There are no mountains here, no birch and pine, no rushing springs, no lush fern nor moss, no elk, no bears, none of it.

So what to do then when the comfort of my kind's home is locked away behind a screen or a hundred dollar plane ticket?

Well for a good while I contented myself with the answer "suffer". But y'know I really don't think that is the best solution. The feeling of discontent in your surroundings and intense species dysphoria actually feels, well, kind of romanticized in our community, like the suffering makes your identity more real, but I think for me what really makes my identity shine is bringing it away from the online world and into the real one, even if what is around me isn't exactly the environment I prefer. I think a better answer is to do what wolves and humans have always done best: adapt. There is no reason that I shouldn't romanticize the aesthetics of the land that I do have around me through a werewolf perspective. That's where the playlist I was working on comes in. All this kind of "clicked" in a way for me driving down a long ranch road at sundown listening to Prowler by Coyote Kid which I had just added to my playlist on recommendation without listening to it first. Its southern gothic vibes mixed with werewolfery caught my attention immediately, because I noticed what I felt in that moment was a kind of species euphoria usually reserved for visits to the mountains. I was at home in my species *and* my environment. The dark dusky skies darkening over fields of cattle and juniper forests, the scent of sun baked straw and dust warming my snout, the hot evening breeze ruffling my fur - it all suddenly felt like home.

That feeling did quickly fade, but it gave me a glimpse of the fact that I am capable of feeling at home here. That I can be just as much, or even more, of a werewolf when I'm enjoying this land as I am when I'm made miserable by it and my homesickness. So from now on I am going to try to embrace the aesthetics and activities of the place that I am, rather than the place I wish I was. I'll be the beast lurking in the ranch lands and along the country roads, the snarl from in the grass much to deep to be a coyote, the mysterious paw prints littering the dust of your destroyed barn. And I can treat living near humans the same way. I will never fit in with humans. I try not to get too misanthropic about it, but I just won't. That doesn't mean I can't exist on the fringes of their society. Infiltrator. Beast hidden in the crowd. I can wear their mask and be proud of my ability to do so. I don't have to feel crushed by it when I know I am always just biding my time to meet others of my kind and let myself free when I am alone.

I know it might seem strange for a simple shift of aesthetics to be so impactful, but in this community especially, aesthetics and symbolism are such a foundational building block of self image and of how you interact with the community itself. And I suppose even then really this is less about the shift in self image around aesthetics and more about the refusal to continue participating in the misery olympics of "how homesick and species dysphoric can I be".

I am a wolf. We adapt.

[bookofmirth]

On every character sarah writes having the same personality: why does every main girl have to be this big planner who has multiple plans on backup and never tells people, only to surprise everyone when everything goes right at the end with no prior explanation... idk if I'm putting this right, but it just made me very... annoyed

Like yeah, that worked great with Aelin, sure, but for me it just doesn't fit with Bryce? Especially on how she was just thrown at this and suddenly figured out she was The Chosen One(tm). It really bugged me, idk

Fair warning, this post rips Bryce a new asshole - not as a person, but as a character that sjm created. So I'm putting it under the cut.

Just to start, in context I said that all the hofas characters ended up having the same personality - though you can make a case for her reusing a lot of the same descriptions and such for all of them. ANYWAY...

To me, the issue is not just that Bryce keeps doing things behind the scenes that we never get any hint of, it's a bigger issue that we never get a hint that she even gives a shit.

With Aelin, at least we already knew what she was working towards and why. We already knew what she cared about and how far she was willing to go to get it. Aelin caring about Terrasen and her court and saving the people she loved was never in question. Her trauma from finding her parents dead, her fear at losing the rest of the people she loved, the weight of responsibility that she felt, we knew all of those things pretty much from the get-go. Her tendency to shut people out could be considered a flaw because she didn't trust other people to help her. We don't know about Terrasen right away, and tbh I don't remember what history we get instead and so I need to reread, but I can point to very specific values, goals, and motivations that make Aelin act the way that she does.

But Bryce - the central problem with her as a character is that Bryce doesn't care about anything, and sjm never figured out what she cares about, either.

Characters need to have central things that they care about, that drive them, motivations, things that they fear and things they would go to great lengths to protect. They need flaws, and clear relationships to the world around them. I could make a list of those things for a lot of her characters. Not all, but most.

With Bryce, I have NO IDEA what those things are. That makes it so that when she randomly find Emile, it just seems like she did it to come across like a nice person. She doesn't care about what humans are experiencing, she shits on Vanir/fae all the time, she treats Hunt pretty poorly, she isn't close to Juniper or Fury (see: their near disappearance from hofas), Danika kept so many secrets from her that I seriously doubt the depth of their relationship. Bryce was working in that library museum thing for Jesiba (I'm already erasing the series from my memory oh my god) and going out and partying and that was all well and good, but... was she going to do those things when she's 200, too? I'm not even saying that she needs to like, go get married or whatever, but she literally has no goals in life!

SJM saying that Bryce is the fun, cute party girl who also has a deep, intellectual side, a pretty woman who can also kick ass, okay, but she needs a reason to kick ass. SJM completely forgot to include the second half of that equation, which is ironic since that was a big point of her character - to prove that women can be feminine and strong, wear high heels and be smart. She failed miserably in my opinion, if that really was the goal of Bryce's character.

When Aelin is snarky to people, I know why. When Bryce is a bitch, it comes out of nowhere and is often turned on people who actually deserve her time and attention and empathy (e.g. Sathia). Aelin is an asshole to that one dude whose name starts with a D because he's a man who is underestimating her and wants to refuse to let her lead because he assumes she will be bad at it. When Bryce is an asshole to Sathia, WHY. I mean really, I wanted to throw my book across the fucking page!!!! Because that's a perfect example of how, if Bryce was guided by a set of values (feminism, I guess?) then she would have responded very differently to Sathia, who has experienced literally the exact same thing Bryce has (being betrothed to someone against her will). Instead, Bryce throws that line back in her face about "well I never let that stop me" as if what Sathia has experienced is her own fault for... not trying enough??? PLEASE. ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW.

The whole "girlboss" thing needs.... something driving it. You can't just bulldoze people and call it being empowered. And I think that sjm has really, really simplified gender and sexuality in CC to the point that that's really the only distinction that matters. That's maybe another issue. I just have a lot of thoughts about these things lol.

Anyway. This is what happens when you write a character built on aesthetic and #girlpower, rather than making them a complete person with fears and values and joys and goals and motivations and flaws.

Okay one more point, this is NOT beyond sjm's capabilities. She obviously is much better at writing characters than this. I just think that sometimes, something suffers when you try new things. In CC, sjm was giving actual world building and magic systems a go. And the characters, really, REALLY fucking suffered for it.

[stellar-collective]

Ok so in your matchstick au what if Ollie has never joined Zoraxis, and Roxana never left the agency (or worked for Zoraxis and then left)? What if Ollie proved to be an amazing field agent, sneaking in and out undetected, as much stealth and control as Matchstick does sheer destruction. He shines especially bright in retcon, though he can knock out a few operatives if he needs be, he doesn't leave a trace, and earns the code name Phoenix for how he always rises above the ashes. When Handler Prism thinks she's lost him at last, he'll slide out of the vents with that slightly sky smile and sneak out like cobra on fire.

Roxana didn't aspire to be a handler, but after so many agents coming to you for how to dismantle several types of bombs, what kind of electronic they'd seen in the field, or how to best take down one of Zoraxis' newest robots, the agency started to take notice, and put her on a trial run with a rookie agent who seemed to have more nerves than training. But as she led him through a mission, she was able to guide him exactly through what he oughtn't touch, and to her surprise he was pretty darn good at following through on exactly what she meant, even improvising when the situation called for it, though admitted it wasn't his strong suit, that was why he was sent on retcon missions mostly, where everything was quiet, and he could blend into the shadows as well a bird in the night.

Srry for ramble, I am unwell about this au

ooh, i do like the idea of an au where Ollie is a field agent and Prism ends up being his handler a lot!! Ollie has a lot of the same quirks that make Phoenix such a great agent (he treats danger just as casually as they do and seems unable to be fazed by literally anything) so i think that it definitely has potential! although… i’d perhaps suggest that alongside recon, Ollie’s thing is that he’s a bizarrely adept negotiator and has turned several Zoraxis operatives to the Agency’s side. might be more fitting to call him Agent Siren the way he keeps stealing away both people and valuable information!

i actually already have the vague storyline for the rest of the games mapped out in my head for the Matchstick AU, though; like @blueorchid-95 suggested on my original post, Reginald’s betrayal leads to the Agency being FAR more willing to embrace Roxana’s perfectly obedient robots and thus she stays with them and remains the main antagonist for the third game (though she’s a good guy this time!)

but this isn’t a complete role reversal au! Ollie (and Juniper too… sort of.) both still join Zoraxis, things just play out a little differently for them! i’m still working out the details but at the very least, know that Matchstick and Ollie do get forced into working together and Matchstick has NO idea how to handle being around someone as nice as he is. they may or may not end up having to escape the underwater lab together after one of Prism’s robots crashes the party… who’s to say?