#and only partially because i want to go to florence

[romanoffsbish]

Cooking With Timmy

Florence Pugh x Pregnant!R

Warnings: Brief mention of loss

Florence entered your shared home with a long, drawn out sigh, it'd been a long week away, and all she wanted was a glass of wine, a decent meal, and to fall asleep holding you.

Her plans faltered though when she stumbled into the hallway and peered into the kitchen.

There she found a curious little boy on the floor with an array of seasonings, pots and pans.

"Hey guys!" He shrieked at his iPad that was recording. "Welcome back to Cooking with Flo, I'm Timmy Pugh, her fill in until she returns."

——

Florence bit back a chuckle, as well as a sob because this is the first time he'd called himself by her namesake that she'd heard. It'd been about three years since you and Flo had taken the orphaned boy in, so this was monumental.

Back then your relationship was still fresh, it'd only been a year, and though it was blissful, you'd only just said I love you to each other in a way that mattered before you got the call that changed everything. Being parents one day was a conversation you'd vaguely had with each other while drinking yourselves silly. It was believed to be a far off subject to broach when things got serious. Not on a random Tuesday.

So, when your close friend Laura was in a life ending accident, you couldn't exactly deny her final wishes that designated him to be given to the both of you. His father wasn't around, and her chaotic family wasn't an option. She clearly had faith in your relationship, you confirmed that when you found out she signed you up for parenthood before you were even a couple.

She just hadn't told you since she thought she had time, but the universe is fickle that way.

Florence and you wasted no time, you got your paperwork together, and went down to the courthouse the following morning to legally bind yourselves, it felt rushed, but even with the fear of the moment backfiring in the future it was still easy to say I do. Florence was your forever, you always knew that deep down.

With marriage came the name changes, Y/N Pugh had a ring to it, and it also offered security over the smooth custodial transition of your son, Timothy Pugh, who at the time had only just turned three when you took him in.

It was easy enough for him to trust you since he knew you well, but he still had quite a hard time. Every single day came with blow out tantrums that would put a strain on anyone. Florence was sometimes too exhausted from her long days on set to handle his episodes with kindness, so you decidedly took turns.

When she was clearly at a low energy level you'd send her to relax, then you'd scoop the boy up, and sing him a lullaby you recalled his mom would sing to him. This always worked. Because when it was your turn to be spread too thin Flo would pick up the slack. She'd put the emotional toddler on her hip, and animatedly describe to him her day as she made dinner.

Every time you'd reconvene, and the parent that couldn't handle the tantrum would take him and offer him gentleness as they got him ready for bed. He'd go down in his bed, but without fail he'd wind up between you both.

It was complicated, but with therapy, and the sweet reminders of his mother, things began to look up around his fifth birthday. Once he started grade school he was able to cycle some of his energy into recess or making friends.

Soon enough he was the happy go lucky boy you remembered him to be before he lost his mom. He'd actually been calling you mama for the last year now, you beamed the first time.

Florence however had been met with Flossie. Something he was familiar saying since he was two, so it just carried on, but it always worried her that he didn't feel comfortable calling her mom. She wondered if her work schedule made him feel less valuable, or as if she was only a guest in his home that she partially owned.

Then she heard him continue his monologue, her hazel eyes closed as a couple happy tears streamed down her face, her heart felt full.

"Mommy Flossie is really busy right now," he informed his crowd of zero. "Mama said she is working on a new movie, because she's like a superstar or something. How cool is she?!"

He paused to shake a salt shaker over a pot that was actually empty, but his mimicry of Flo's mannerisms was shockingly spot on. Especially as he lifted a wine glass of juice to his lips, Florence felt a wave of embarrassment at being so incredibly transparent to her son.

"My friend Jackson told me she's British." He frowned as he shrugged, not understanding the implications of his friends words. "But then my friend Amelia said she's actually a superhero," he relayed excitedly, "I like her idea better."

He stirred the faux contents of the pot with a wide grin that Florence admired through the recording on his screen as he rambled on.

"Spying on our son are we?" Florence jumped as you suddenly spawned behind her. She turned to face you immediately, her hands took their rightful place, one on your protruding baby bump, and the other cupped your cheek.

"He's recorded like five episodes today."

Florence deeply pouted, "I'm missing it, huh?"

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around her neck so you could pull her into a soft kiss, your baby bump slotted to the side of her body as she melted into the affection.

"One of us had to work my love," you reminded her. "Acting was always your dream, becoming a parent wasn't on your 2020 Bingo card."

"Neither was a global pandemic that forced us to move into the same house two months into our relationship if we wanted it to work. It was like the world wanted to make sure we never broke up." Florence smiled at the thought.

"Yeah, 2020 was an odd year," you teased, and kissed her smirking lips, the kiss was heatless, but passionate in its own regards. It lasted an entire minute until your sons voice cut in.

"Mama! I want to make dinner tonight."

You stared down at him with a practiced quirk of your brow. Florence watched as the two of you stared the other down until he softly sighed, "Mama, can I please help with dinner?"

"What a polite boy, thank you for offering to help and using your manners baby, but I was going to order in since this one just got home," you gently crushed your sons dreams, you couldn't help it, but you'd been craving a big mac with extra pickles and sauce all day long.

Florence shook her head though, and scooped the much bigger boy up with an ease that reminded you of her Marvel workout regimen.

"I could really use a sous chef so that Mama and your baby sister here can eat something besides Maccy's." Florence evaded your hand as it attempted to slap her in the shoulder. "We better hurry bubby, Mama seems hangry."

Timmy giggled wildly on her hip as she ran the pair of them to the kitchen. You smiled at the scene as it unfolded before you with a hand on your bump. Rubbing it fondly as you saw the wonderful mom your wife was that she herself didn't exactly see. Florence might not always be home, but she was always there when she was, and that alone counted for everything.

"Mama! Go sit down and relax!" You smiled, and shook your head at your sons outburst.

"Okay, you two make sure not to burn my kitchen down!" Florence scoffed, "As if..."

Florence and Timmy started by washing all the pots he'd used as toys, then afterwards she rewarded the boy with a kiss on his cheek that made him giggle and her heart soar. Then she propped her phone up and started up a cooking with Flo. Tim's hands and voice were all she allowed on the tape, your son was aware of his exposure to the internets limits so he didn't take any offense. He happily played his part.

The duo decided to try their hand at making a Big Mac for you, vegan patties of course. This led to the blonde gushing about you and the pregnancy on her story as your son filled them in on the things even Florence hadn't seen. It made her feel guilty all over again for having not been here for huge chunks of your lives.

She knew you were right, that she had a career to build so your family would be secure. It didn't stop her from wanting to quit though. Hearing about how tired you've been from the babes mouth made her wonder if the spotlight she found herself under mattered anymore.

When she had a growing boy who deserved her sole attention before your infant arrived, and you who deserved to rest in this last trimester.

Florence texted her manager as your son set the table all on his own. He beamed up at your wife whenever he felt he did something right, and she always praised him, never letting the argument on her phone interfere with their precious time together. "Mommy?"

The blonde nearly dropped her phone as he directed the title at her. "Yes bubby?"

"Is it true that you're a super hero?"

She smirked, "I'm actually an anti-hero."

Timmy looked at her puzzled, he now stood right in front of her wearing the expression so that she could catch onto his confused drift.

Florence dropped to her knees so she could look him in the eyes as she spoke. "That's when the person is in between good and evil. They are trying to figure out the best way to make things work, sometimes they do good, and others they do really bad things. Way cooler."

"What's cool?" You asked as you settled down at the table, Florence froze as your son enthusiastically cheered, "Being the bad guy."

Florence's jaw dropped, she attempted to fix the moment, but fortunately Timmy did.

"She was telling me about her character."

Dinner went smoothly from there, your moans of appreciation told your wife she'd done the food of your heart justice. It made her happy to take care of you, knowing that she was able to give you what you wanted, while making sure your daughter got the nutrients she needed.

Also, it made her feel less guilty being able to take some of the load off of you. You'd never complained, you simply took it all in stride, but she sees the way your smile is tired, and she catches the hand pressed into your lower back.

Carrying a baby is no joke, she knows that, so she does whatever needs to be done when she's home, and after tonight she plans to be here far more often. In a weeks time she'll be done with her current film, and the other's won't start shooting until after your daughters birthday.

When your son saw you getting up with the dishes he stopped you with a hand on your bump, and carried it to the sink for you. Flo scooped him up moments later, and tickled him until he was unable to breathe right.

"Careful Flossie, don't suffocate my baby." Your lover rolled her eyes, then she made her way over to help your wobbly self to your feet.

"You go take a nice long shower my love, I'll handle his bedtime routine." Florence kissed your cheek, and Timmy mirrored her action as he was sat on her hip. "You deserve it mama."

"Thank you my loves," you couldn't hide the emotional timbre of your voice, your eyes glistened in a direct call out. "Goodnight to you then my baby boy, I'll see you in the morning."

Timmy grinned, "We're making french toast!"

"My tummy is already rumbling," you enthused back, then happily slipped off to your en suite.

After Timmy was clean and in his PJ's, she decided to bring him with her to your room. Where she read him a story as he laid on her, and within a few minutes time he was snoring.

Florence carded a hand through his damp hair, she watched him in amusement as his eyes fluttered beneath the lids. Her tired mind wandered to what he might be dreaming about, the possibilities with him are endless, but she is almost certain it's either dinosaurs or fairies.

His obsession with Tinkerbell was her favorite.

"What's got you smiling?" Florence's lips widened when she saw you toweling your hair.

"I was thinking after the baby is six months we could leave her with my parents and take Tim-Tim here to Disneyland." She placed a kiss to his forehead then went on. "He is big enough to ride things now, and he'd love to meet the characters. We can do the brunch with them."

You smiled at her, delighted by her idea, but then your brows furrowed in confusion. "What about that horror film you were excited for?"

"I told them to push the filming to the end of 2024, or to recast me." Florence shrugged with an air of genuine indifference. "They moved it to October, so baby Pugh will be a year old."

"Baby Pugh," you softly repeated, hand softly caressing your bump as you realized you'd yet to give your daughter a name. Even when she was due to arrive within the next two months. Florence's hand joined yours as you stood beside the bed, and before she could soothe your worries she was gasping, "She kicked."

In all seven months of your pregnancy the little girl had yet to let Florence feel the harsh jabs she subjected you to. One time, when Flo felt like sleeping on the couch, she'd told you that you had to be exaggerating. You weren't, and she knew that now. Sometimes you wondered if you watched Flo's "Fighting With My Family" one too many times whenever you missed her. Because you were now absolutely certain your daughter had the potential to be in the WWE.

"I'm glad that brings you joy," you teased through a wince as the little one kicked again, this time much stronger, your belly even shook.

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry I doubted you," Flo giggled softly as she saw an imprint form under the skin, and you smiled tenderly down at her as you moved to put your hand over hers. "You should be, it's because she hears you talking."

Florence tried to deny it, but you were already two steps ahead of her. Showing her the videos of whenever she kicks, and how it's usually as you rewatched old family videos. Each shake or prod of your belly followed her laugh or words.

Your wife gently moved the boy on top of her onto the mattress, then stood up, briefly she kissed your lips before bending to be eye level with your pregnancy bump. "Hello Lyla," she tried, but she was met with a sudden stillness.

"Okay, how about hello baby Patricia."

"No," you vetoed immediately, then the both of you felt a powerful kick, baby Pugh agreed.

"I'm running out of names little one."

"Florence, that was two names," you laughed and she looked up at you with a tired smile. "I'm jet lagged my love, please do forgive me."

"Come on then," you paused, taking her hand in yours as you guided her to her side of the bed, "We'll discuss everything in due time."

Florence however flipped your positions, and gently helped you into your side. Then she straddled your thighs, leaving you to quirk a distrusting brow at her. She shook her head, then gestured to the sleeping boy beside you before her hands began to bring you to bliss.

Every press of her hands against your bump was heavenly, and in no time you yawned. It was a miracle that you were still awake when she finally finished. Clambering off of you she moved to sit beside you instead, leaning down so she could kiss all over your face before she landed on your lips with a contented sigh.

"I think Samantha could be cute." You both chuckled when a soft kick resounded beneath her hand that was still settled atop your bump.

"Timmy and Sammy against the world?" You both chuckled softly at your sleepy son's voice cutting through the already sweet moment. "We could be like mommy and be anti heroes."

"Where does that leave me?" You inquired, and he sleepily shrugged, a move that brought him closer to you, he easily snuggled into your side. "At home making all of us cookies of course."

"Oh of course," you conceded, but sent your wife a disapproving, heatless glare over it.

"A cookie might make us less evil mommy," he reasoned. "Mommy's are never as sweet."

Florence had already settled in behind your son, wearing a mischievous grin as she leaned in to whisper: "That's cause mama pours the entire bag of chocolate chips into the batter."

"Go to sleep," you barked. "Both of you."

"Yes ma'am," the two giggled in sync and you couldn't help but to smile at their childish camaraderie. "I love you mama," your sons tired whisper of affection made your eyes glisten. "I love you too bug." Then he sweetly rubbed your belly. "I love you Sammy Pugh."

He giggled as she kicked, "She loves me too."

"Of course she does," you reasoned, settling a kiss to his temple. "You're her big brother."

Florence observed the moment with an adoring smile, but it held an obvious longing as well. It wasn't unlike her to watch moments like this between the both of you, it's one of the main reasons she was so adamant on taking a break.

Timmy deserved her time, and she not so secretly craved his reserved affections.

Then he rolled over, she softly gasped as he burrowed into her chest. "I love you mommy." Her arms wrapped around him tightly, and she shakily whispered, "I love you my lil sous chef."

Florence's eyes sought yours out as soon as his soft snoring filled the space. You'd already been looking at them, neither of you said a word, you just admired the other as a steady flow of happy tears trailed down your faces.

This was all either of you had ever wanted. A happy little family, unconventionally formed, but brought to the now by unconditional love.

——

3,135 Words

❤️ K 💋

[periprose]

Florence - Chapter Six

You and Peter tell MJ the truth about the fashion show debacle. Bachelor/bachelorette parties are held the next day, Peter learns what was bugging Harry so much, and you and Peter start getting distracted by each other (in a particularly lustful fashion). The day after that, there's a massive heatwave and it's only one more night until Harry and MJ's wedding.

Some horny stuff, lavish partying, protective!Logan, mutual pining, lots of mushy feelings and fluff, lots of texting through out events, first kiss (kind of!)

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

MJ’s hard to find. Peter is not even especially focused on finding her, because he’s trailing his hands around you after what just happened, and you are not really inclined to tell him to stop.

You ask around the party- most people assume that MJ is with Harry, but Harry isn’t with her, and her parents are too busy dancing to answer your question, even if you say it’s somewhat urgent.

MJ’s sister laughs when you ask her. “She’s very shy sometimes. Probably hiding away in her bedroom.”

“But MJ’s kinda loud and crazy.” Peter remarks, not in a mean way, just pointing out how your friend can be really out there. “What do you mean shy?”

“She has her moments.” Gayle answers, and you don’t think that’s true.

Just as you thought, MJ’s not in her bedroom either, but as you and Peter exit, holding hands as you’ve become accustomed to, who else would be in the corridor, waiting for the bathroom to open up, other than your father?

The implication is not lost on you. How it looks like you two have just stolen each other away in a corner of the house during the party, taking each other as lovers in horny secrecy- and there’s a little too much evidence proving the fact, you with your still messed up hair, Peter with his partially unbuttoned shirt, the drunken air of heat around you two- and you both just came out of a bedroom. 

You feel a little embarrassed before remembering that you are twenty-six, and Logan can’t exactly punish you for something you didn’t do, and even if you did do it, you’re totally allowed to. You’re not a stupid, unwary teenager- despite what Logan thinks, Peter did not take advantage of you. 

Peter is kind of loosely gripping your hand, and you think he’s going to let go, probably out of fear that your father will kill him- and you hold his hand a little tighter, refusing to let him go.

“Hey, dad.” You say kind of breezily, a little wary of Logan’s eyes flickering from your intertwined hands to your face. “Do you know where MJ is?”

“Ah… Little Wolverine.” Logan’s voice is laced with tenderness as he stares at you, and his face is battling some girl-dad extremes right now- he wants to protect you and be there for you all at the same time, and he doesn’t want Peter anywhere near you, not after how you experienced such heartbreak not so long ago- but he lets it slide for now. He can see that you’re not willing to talk about it right now, and Peter’s staring at the ground with a guilty expression that Logan can’t help but feel a little bad about.

Sure, Peter’s got his hands on Logan’s only daughter- but he’s still one of your best friends, and Logan always thought he would like if you ended up with him, because Peter was another bright kid, a cute scamp that Logan thought wasn’t nearly as annoying as all the other boys that had no right to be near you. He’s seen the both of you grow up together- how could he not be a little bemused about the whole thing?

“I think I saw her heading into the bar.” Logan states, and you nod and pull Peter alongside you, while Logan stares at you, wondering when you had to grow up and wishing he could just prevent you getting hurt.

/

Sure enough, MJ is in the bar, trying to carry like three different bottles of champagne on her own- Peter is quick to grab one as it’s falling and you grab the other that’s still in her arms.

“Ooh, that was close.” MJ pants, and rests against the counter. “There could’ve been bubbly everywhere.”

“Don’t worry, Peter would’ve caught all of them if that happened.” You know very well about Peter’s weird uncanny ability to catch things that are falling, or sense when things are coming towards you- he’s pulled you out of the way of random people several times, despite never seeing them. 

“That’s true. Peter once pulled Gwen out of the way when she almost tripped over the balcony. I think it was in your guys’ first year of uni? I was visiting.” MJ comments, and you realize you weren’t there, because you were starting to refuse Peter’s invitations downtown to ESU. 

It’s not like campus was that faraway, but you couldn’t handle it at the time. Now you feel sad that you missed out on something. And a little stupid.

“Really?” You ask. “I wasn’t there, what exactly happened?”

“Ah… if I remember correctly, Gwen was crying about something that happened during class.” Peter starts, and recognition seems to fall on him. “Oh, right. She thought she was about to lose her scholarship.”

“Yeah, poor girl was crying and blubbering- you know when you cry so hard you can’t breathe? That was her.” MJ nods, pursing her lips as she thinks it over. “I don’t think any of us realized how close she was to the edge. Except for Peter.”

Peter looks sheepish. “It was just an instinct, you know? I heard her foot stumble, and the sound of the wind- her back was leaning over the edge when I pulled her back.”

You imagine Gwen shrieking, her platinum blonde hair flowing in the autumn wind as she teetered for a moment, only to be cut off as Peter’s hands grabbed her. How terrifying- Gwen could’ve died.

You say as much, and MJ nods. 

“It was really scary. She held onto Peter for a while, and he was really nice about the whole thing.” She gives him a soft squeeze of the hand, and you feel like Peter’s actually just so… sweet. 

It’s something you’ve always known, but thinking about it now, you really know that you love him. You love that Peter always seems to be thinking for others, even if he can arguably be a bit dense about his own feelings- you could never say that Peter didn’t put others first, that he always tried his best to make everyone feel a little better.

It’s funny how little realizations like this can just strike you. You know Peter and MJ aren’t aware of how you feel on the inside right now, but some part of you wishes you could stay in Florence with Peter forever. Stay in this moment of being next to him, and being in love with him as he is, and not having to worry about the rest of the world. 

“You’re a good person.” You say, and Peter gets a funny smile on his face.

“You say that like it’s surprising, Howlett. But thank you.” He ruffles your hair, and MJ grins at the two of you. “Another good-person thing incoming: me and Howlett have some news about your Dior contract.”

“Oh, really?” MJ leans forward, placing the bottle back on the counter as she sits on it. “What is it?”

“Bucky and Elektra were the ones behind the email. They never actually told Dior that you were misusing funds, which is fair because Dior would’ve never believed them.” You explain, and MJ tilts her head, somewhat confused. “The entire thing was a sham. Sent by Bucky, probably based off of something that’s happening to Elektra… they sent you a fake email with a doctored balance sheet, for reasons I’m not sure about. Maybe to get back at someone who’s actually in Dior’s good graces?”

“A fake email?” MJ’s mouth is agape, and she scrolls through her phone, and you watch as the power of a thousand suns suddenly light up inside her eyes. “A fake fucking email?!”

“MJ-”

“No. No. That’s literally so-” MJ starts cursing, things you would never repeat to your own mother if she somehow made an ill-advised appearance in your life again. “God, I spent literal weeks if not months worrying and crying about this- it made me feel anxious about the wedding stuff too- and you’re telling me it was basically an elaborate prank? I would’ve just not shown up to New York Fashion Week and then shit really would’ve gotten real!”

It’s starting to make sense to you now. Bucky and Elektra would somewhat benefit from less competition if MJ was blacklisted from Dior’s shows, especially because she dared to just not come after being given the privilege of modelling for them. 

She jumps off her seat at the counter, grabbing your shoulders, and you’re taken aback, sputtering in the face of MJ’s rage. Peter hoists her a bit away from you, or at least- he tries to, his arms coming up under hers, and he’s dangling her up in the air, but MJ has a lot of strength, especially when she’s upset, and her fingers hurt a little as they tighten and squeeze around your shoulders.  

“Lettie. Tell me right now. Should I kick them out? Is there potential for them doing worse since they’re here?” MJ huffs out, and you breathe a sigh of relief that MJ isn’t actually upset at you. 

“Considering Bucky had his hands all over Howlett earlier, I don’t think there’s any lower you can get.” Peter mutters, clearly still kind of pissed over that. His jaw clenches with tension, and then he finally pulls MJ aside, and she stands, crossing her arms.

“Sorry, Lettie. Bucky really can be creepy, but I thought he would know better at a wedding.” She rolls her eyes. “That does it- I’m uninviting them.”

“Now?” You ask, but MJ is already walking towards the backyard entrance, and you and Peter give each other a look before following her. “Wait- MJ, hang on!”

“What?” She stops for one moment and Peter shakes his head.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks gently, and MJ inhales, her chest puffing up, red anger spreading from her heart to her face.

“Of course I want to do this! I feel like killing them, how could they- how could they do that to me? I’m sick of being nice to assholes.” MJ breaks into a brisk run, but you grab her arm, and get yanked forward as you do your best to stop her.

Models and their long legs- Peter swallows a laugh as he watches you, with your shorter stature, attempt to pull back MJ, and he easily helps you just by holding her other arm.

“MJ, listen. Think carefully.” You whisper to her, and she’s still upset but she is listening. “You have a lot of potential notoriety if you kick them out now. There are people everywhere- other models invited, networking people, hell, even Harry’s tech corporation people. You could be infamous for the wrong reasons, and not everyone knows about the email thing.”

“But… But I…” MJ sighs, knowing that you’re right. “God, for just once in my life I wanted to give it to them. I wanted them to feel like they were tiny, small, like I did for the last few weeks. And they really, really deserve it.”

“You can still do that.” Peter remarks, but he looks upset, and rightfully so that MJ had had such a hard time. “Just do it when there are no consequences to you.”

MJ takes it in, and after careful consideration, tells you guys what she thinks. “I’m going to keep them here- I want to be totally in control of how they find out that they’ll be banned from any proper fashion house shows indefinitely. After I tell Dior all about it, of course. Might as well take the high road for now so it all comes crashing down later.”

MJ sounds rather giddy, almost borderline evil, but you have to let her have it for once. The nicest people are the scariest when they’re pushed to their limits. 

A chill breeze enters the Villa as she pulls you and Peter outside- the rest of the night is a blur of dancing, where you and MJ screeching songs in each others’ faces, relief about everything clearly making her mood a lot better than it was previously.

/

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, or when you managed to get back upstairs to your bedroom, but you wake up pretty late.

“What?” You murmur as you check your phone. It’s 4:00 PM. “Oh, fuck.”

You sleepily sit up, and surprisingly, you don’t have a hangover- but it’s probably only because you’ve slept so long. You wonder where everyone is.

Someone knocks on your door, and you tell them to come in. It’s Gwen, her trademark small smile and platinum blonde hair making you feel less tired already.

“Hey, Lettie.” She sits on your bed, and you feel kind of dishevelled for having slept so long. “I thought I’d come by to tell you to get ready.”

“Huh?”

“Oh. I guess you didn’t know?” Gwen plays with a strand of her hair, and looks apologetic. “Today is the bachelorette party, and the bachelor party, but of course we’re going to MJ’s bachelorette party. I hope you’re okay with partying even more- it’s at some swanky club.”

“Oh.” You yawn, and you shake your head. “Meh, whatever. It’s just one crazy week- for the rest of my life I’ll be super moderate and healthy.”

Gwen giggles. “It’s good to see you’re up to it. I can’t imagine what MJ would have said if you weren’t there.”

After a bit of showering and preening and cleaning yourself up, you’re given your bachelorette dress by Gwen. Natalia, Kitty, Wanda, Betty, and Gayle (MJ’s sister) are in your room as well. It’s nice to be with them- you remember Gayle is like uber responsible and she combs your hair back and zips you into your dress before you can even ask for help. Betty is pretty nice, but she’s always in a bit of a mood. Natalia, Kitty, and Wanda are actually a lot sweeter than you would’ve assumed- they only offer helpful tips on fashion and no one is out to criticize you.

You blankly wonder where Elektra could be, if she’s even invited to the whole affair. She must be- but perhaps she’s getting ready on her own. Perhaps MJ is slowly beginning to ice her out.

Everyone is giggling, gossiping, getting ready- and you feel like this is what sisterhood is all about sometimes. The intimacy of the beautification process is one that you’re not sure men understand. By the end of all the dressing up, accessorising, and makeup, everyone looks kinda matching. The style is glitz, sparkle, as much as you could possible adorn on yourselves- there are little gems glued on your face, sparkly highlighter everywhere, and everyone just looks glowing, ethereal, shiny. Like a bunch of fairies.

MJ’s bought eight matching dresses in style- bodycon, spaghetti strap dresses that are mid thigh length, accentuating your figure, and just bedazzled in a million tiny gems. Reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe’s infamous Happy-Birthday-Mr. President dress, just a lot shorter. Yours is in a burnt red colour that screams red hot spice- MJ’s is a deep, sultry midnight-blue, Betty is of course in black as usual, Gayle is in green, and Gwen is in a pretty plum. Kitty and Natalia are matching- they’re in a pretty opalesque seashell pink- and Wanda is in wine. Despite the colours ranging so wildly, the shimmer of the jewels on your dresses unify the lot of you.

“We look like a girl group.” You point out, and everyone flashes a silly pose. You take a picture of the eight of you- just for the memories and all that. 

After just a second of deliberation, you post it to your Instagram story- it’ll be gone in 24 hours, and you haven’t been posting anything for the whole trip. Why not, right?

Peter responds to it almost instantly.

pbp replied to your story: not fair

pbp: you cant just post a picture like this and not expect me to come n see you

littlewolverine: it looks that good?

pbp: better than that. you look gorgeous

littlewolverine: what about everyone else in the picture peter

pbp: there are other ppl in the picture?

littlewolverine: omg stop lol

pbp: just kidding. Everyone looks great but u just drew my attention first. I LOVE the dress

littlewolverine: thank you :) 

pbp: you should do full glam more often lol. Stop hiding in ur giant sweaters in your room

littlewolverine: I’ll do that if u do the same thing lol. Stop hiding ur muscles 👀 i saw them on the beach

pbp: ohhh so u were checking me out? if i had known that i would’ve built more muscle

littlewolverine: no no. you are fine the way you are, promise. 

littlewolverine: so what are u guys wearing?

pbp sent a picture.

You open it, and it’s a picture of Harry, Peter, Bucky (!), Miles, and three tech bros you don’t recognize. They’re wearing fancy dress pants, button up shirts, and suspenders. Very sophisticated, old-money, Italian aesthetic.

littlewolverine: im surprised buck is there

pbp: that’s the first thing u have to say?? wow

littlewolverine: sorry. Are u sure you’re not secretly italian? How do u pull this off so well? Very hot 10/10 no notes. Love the suspenders too.

pbp: i think MJ is gonna let buck and elektra “have” the upper hand for now… and then destroy them later.

littlewolverine: wow that’s dark. But they deserve that

pbp: anyways thanks howlett. Wasn’t really feeling the look but u changed my mind. I think im gonna go become a part of that mafia aesthetic that the youth enjoy so much

littlewolverine: hahahaha

littlewolverine: you’ll surely become a top ten tiktok star or whatever it is. Idk either

pbp: we’re old as fuck. 

/

Although bachelorette parties are fun, and you enjoy conversing and dancing with the girls- Elektra is the only one who’s a bit ostracized and she seems secretly panicked as to why- you spend most of the evening texting Peter. You can’t help it- he’s just that funny and annoyingly distracting. 

pbp: uhhh there’s a stripper dancing on the bar counter now. howlett what do i do

littlewolverine: idk man, look at her, don’t look at her? Up to u really

pbp: but do i look at her bc i respect her as a person and im not shaming her for her work? Or do i not look at her bc i disagree with a world that has normalized female bodies as sexual objects, and has generally coerced women into feeling comfortable w that? 

littlewolverine: uhHHhhhhhh. Okay ask her if she had no other choice but to become a stripper. And then decide from there, you wise philosopher lol

pbp: thanks for the advice. I think im gonna look away because she’s giving some of the tech bros a lap dance… and uhhhhh out of respect to u ofc

littlewolverine: whaaat. im chill w it

pbp: not to make u feel bad. but what about what happened w mj?

littlewolverine: that’s totally different, this is a random stripper. Feelings and best friends are way more heavy. I thought u were emotionally literate lol

pbp: so u wont mind if i get a lap dance from this lady? 

littlewolverine: ah, u got me there. Okay, but only if im allowed to get one from some random male stripper

littlewolverine: I kid, i kid. I wont do that lol. Anyways its fine if you want to, its not like we’re official 

pbp: omg

pbp: howlett come on i was joking too. Why tf would i do that? 

pbp: and we’re not official YET. im not screwing that up for something stupid i dont even care about

littlewolverine: oh idk. I didnt want to screw up either lol. What if i was putting too much pressure on u to commit

pbp: I want to commit lol. Im waiting for the signal from u

littlewolverine: okay. Maybe when things are less busy. and we can actually be alone. then it’ll happen.

Peter sends a bunch of heart emojis and you feel your heart swell with warmth and all those gooey feelings that you swore you’d never feel again.

“You’re totally glued to your phone.” Gwen says as she sits next to you, taking a break from the dancing. She’s sweating a lot, and she takes a long drink of water.

“Ah, well… I don’t know. Maybe parties aren’t my thing.” You try to make an excuse, but Gwen gives you that smile, where she already knows what’s up.

“And Peter Parker is definitely your thing, right?” She jokes, and you blush but nod ever so timidly. It’s the first time you’ve really admitted that this is happening, and Gwen squees and hugs you. 

“I knew it! You guys are so meant to be. Miles always said that you have chemistry with him.” Gwen confesses and you wonder if it’s just been that obvious to everyone else, all these years.

/

Peter, on the other hand, is being pulled into the dance circle by Miles, at their own respective party. He didn’t even get a chance to see you in all your glamour at the Villa, try as he might- everyone was ushered away before he could steal a moment with you. 

He resists the urge to check his phone, and eventually, leans against the bar counter with Harry, who looks solemn. 

“Hey, Har.” Peter tries to be gentle, because of his last rocky conversation together with him.

“Ah. Peter.” Harry wordlessly holds up his fist for a fist bump, which Peter gratefully does. “How’s the party for you?”

“It’s fine… I’ve spent most of the time texting Howlett.” Peter admits, and Harry laughs.

“Did I knock some sense into you?”

“...Maybe.” Peter grimaces and then laughs. “Okay, yeah. I needed to hear it- that I wasn’t treating her right.”

Harry nods, and then decides to be honest. “Actually. I needed to hear some harsh truths from you, too. I was kind of ignoring MJ and what she wanted. And it wasn’t all perfect and fixed until you said something.”

Peter shrugs. “You would’ve fixed it anyways. What happened?”

Harry pauses. “I think I was getting too preoccupied with Oscorp. Dad is really on my ass about taking it seriously, and I am, I just… I didn’t talk to MJ for a bit because I thought she’d freak on me about it. Sometimes we argue about who’s doing what correctly and I just kinda ghosted her about it.”

“Hey, at least you talked to her about, right?” Peter feels bad. “Sorry that I made you out to be some sort of serial cheater. I just remember in high school, and even college, you kinda used to be on-and-off with MJ a lot.”

Harry snickers. “Yeah, that wasn’t very healthy of me, was it? But we got over that a while back. MJ told me if I was really, truly serious about her, I wouldn’t keep leaving her hanging like that, and she had a point. I couldn’t imagine being without her- and that’s why I wanted you to do the same thing with Howlett, you blind idiot.”

“I knew that couldn’t be your own knowledge. MJ really taught you everything, didn’t she.” Peter comments and Harry immediately starts punching him jokingly, before letting go of his fist and admitting that it’s kinda true. 

Peter coughs but he’s all good. He’s happy. He’s glad to have you, Harry, and MJ at his side again.

His phone beeps with another text from you.

littlewolverine: omg look at this

You’ve sent him a picture of a spider crawling up the wall, and the next picture is of it landing on Elektra, and the very last thing is a video of her running and MJ laughing in the background.

pbp: HAHAHAHA

pbp: serves her right i think

littlewolverine: bet she wishes she had a you to come and save her. Remember when we were fifteen and u had to come get rid of the spider in my washroom at the hotel?

pbp: remember??? You think ive forgotten that? you were still wearing your swimsuit and i think i spent the rest of that trip thinking about that

littlewolverine: omg noooo why? That was not a cute look on me… dad bought that bikini for me without consultation lol

pbp: teenage boys are really horny howlett. you think im gonna be picky when that was maybe the closest id ever been to a semi naked girl at that point? nah. 

littlewolverine: wowww so you were only horny bc it could’ve been any girl??

littlewolverine: #blockedandreported

pbp: ok fine maybe it had something to do with you being the girl. 

littlewolverine: Sent a picture.

Peter opens the picture and blinks- you’re becoming way more confident at teasing him, he can tell, and he feels heat rushing from his face to his neck and even further below that. It’s just you, in the washroom mirror of the club, except- just for this private intimate moment captured in this picture- you’ve pulled down your dress, straps and all, so your top half is showing. You’re still wearing your bra, of course, but this is the most erotically charged picture from you that he’s ever gotten, and he’s not thinking clearly anymore, not when he can clearly see your cleavage. 

pbp: show more? Please?

littlewolverine: you can see it in person lol. 

pbp: noooo faaaaiiiir. are u gonna walk out of the washroom like that? do i have to be jealous of everyone in the club?

littlewolverine: no you dumbass. this is a private picture just for u and i already pulled my dress back up. 

pbp: im excited to pull it back down in person lol.

/

Unfortunately for Peter, the partying lasted until 2:00 AM, and by the time everyone made it back to the Villa, he was too tired to come sneak into your room and very possibly annihilate you with all this pent up lust he keeps feeling. 

So now it’s Thursday. July 20th. One day before the wedding, meant to be a chill day of planning and preparing.

But it’s the hottest day of the summer so far, apparently. Almost 35 degrees celsius, or 95 degrees fahrenheit, which is just horrible.

The air conditioning is on max- everyone is sitting around various parts of the house trying to fan themselves, and yet, it’s not enough. The sweaty, sticky feeling is palpable- most people have gone shirtless at this point. You swear you can see the heat waves emanating through the air.

You’re wearing a big tee-shirt, loose cotton shorts, and a cropped tank top underneath the shirt for some modesty. You’re very close to just taking off your shirt.

Your dad is really complaining. He’s shirtless and lying face down on the tiles. “Kid. Throw some ice cubes on me, will ya?”

“Uhhh… okay.” You peel yourself off the leather couch, your bare thighs sticking to the hot cushions, and walk towards the fridge in the kitchen. Every step feels like more heat is wafting towards you and sticking to you. 

Peter’s in the kitchen, and he’s putting his whole head inside a giant bowl of ice cold water. He sees you approaching and pulls his head out, water from his hair splashing over his bare upper body and the floor. 

“Don’t you dare-!” You shriek, but to no avail, because Peter picks you up and shakes his wet hair all over you, and now you’re covered in water too. 

“Isn’t that better, Howlett? You’re not as hot now, right?” Peter holds you close as you try to open the freezer for some ice. “Where are you going?”

“I’m trying to get away from you, you soaking wet monkey-” You dart under his arms and open the freezer. 

“You’d probably feel less hot if you took off your shirt.” Peter slyly attempts to say, and you roll your eyes at how transparent he can be. “Not that I can’t already see through your shirt. Nice neon-green tank you got on there.”

“Ugh!” You take out the ice tray and leave it on the counter. “Thanks, Peter.”

You pull off your now see-through top, and Peter cannot ignore the way you’re glowing, little water droplets attached to your already flushed, sweaty skin, on the little bare stripe of your stomach that the tank top reveals, and he gets this impossible urge to just lean in and kiss you especially because your mouth is just agape because of the heat, and he wants to take your mouth for his own pleasure.

He leans in, and you look up at him- and Peter traces back your hair, and he feels increasingly frustrated that he hasn’t planted one on you yet, (the last time, he recalls with some amusement, is when you were both nine, and he doesn’t think that really counts because you fell on top of him over a sandcastle)  so he pulls your face upwards and kisses you with a deep inhale, his lips gently-yet-firmly plying against your own, and it’s with immense satisfaction that Peter feels you kiss back, and he’s so glad he finally gets to know what it’s like to kiss you after fantasizing about it this whole week, and he feels that you’re so soft and sweet and he just wants to pull you further into his arms, and he’s just beginning to swirl his tongue against your own when he hears a very loud cough in the background.

You pull away sheepishly, your hair all dishevelled from Peter’s insistent hands, and grimace at your father. “Hey, dad…”

Logan takes the ice cubes that you apparently took to long to give to him, and starts rubbing them on his shoulders. His massive, muscular shoulders, Peter thinks with a gulp. 

“Hey, kid. Just leave the room for a bit. Me and Pete need to have a chat.” Logan states, and you immediately turn apprehensive.

“Wait- Dad- It’s not Peter’s fault, if you’re gonna yell at him- you gotta yell at me too!” You cross your arms, and Peter looks towards the ground, feeling much younger than his 26 years of age. “I’m an adult woman. You can’t just-”

Logan goes up-bup-bup-bup and silences you, pushing you out the kitchen door and shutting it. You sit down on the tiles in frustration, and try your best to listen through the door.

“Peter. C’mere.” Logan sits at one of the barstools, and Peter follows, feeling an ominous level of dread. “I’m not gonna kill you for laying one on my daughter- that’s still her choice, even if I question her taste.”

“Oh.”

“But I’m not letting you off so easy.” Logan stares at his hands, and thinks about how you spent quite literally years being depressed over Peter, even if you wouldn’t say as much. “Listen. Lettie might’ve forgiven you for whatever happened between the two of you- but that kid is my whole life. This is the first time in a long time I’ve actually seen her happy.”

Peter nods, unsure of what he could say to that.

“But this comes at a price, alright? She’s happy, yeah, but you have no idea how upset she was without you.” Logan sounds rather pissed off and Peter flinches. “I better not see you using her and then leaving her behind again. Because I will come after you for that, even if Lettie tries to save your ass.”

“I won’t do that.” Peter responds almost immediately. “I’m not saying I wasn’t an idiot back then, but I would never do that. I really- I love her a lot. I just didn’t know it before.”

Peter has to stop himself from looking at Logan’s taken back expression, but he is surprised to find that Logan claps his hand on his back.

“And she loves you. At least I think she does.” Logan admits, and Peter wonders if you’ll ever tell him that. “I’m just saying. Don’t be stupid with my daughter this time around.”

“Yes, sir.” Peter replies, and Logan shakes his hand, before opening the door again.

You’re leaning against it, and you fall back against the tiles, before pulling yourself up in a rush. 

“Dad? You didn’t beat him up?” You genuinely sound confused, and Peter starts laughing. 

“He’s all yours, kid.” Logan ruffles your head, and you immediately start pestering Peter to explain what that means as Logan walks away.

Peter enjoys how you blabber on at him about your confusion and why Logan seems so okay with the whole thing, not that he was ever going to forbid you from dating someone, but he has his moments of being protective, and Peter wonders what he could say to answer your questions, maybe he could really confess his love for you as he had just accidentally done with Logan- but he decides to just lean in and kiss you again. 

Maybe he’ll tell you later.    

[sycamorre]

Can I please get the whole girl gang with Ori, Mela, Vaela, and Riven!

[send me a character]

Oh boy you're making me do my homework over here!

Oriana —

Favorite thing about them: I'm going to be incredibly non-specific and say that her growth as a character was my favorite part of playing her. She started out as this uptight, dutiful monk who was scared to show her own face too much for fear of making people mildly uncomfortable (and honestly to avoid invasive questions) to someone who was finally getting comfortable with who they were was such a blast. I love her newly-acquired confidence and the dynamic it brings to her post-campaign. She's far from perfect, and never will be, but she's maturing and making a new purpose for herself other than being someone's errand girl.

Least favorite thing about them: She is the worst pessimist in the world and sometimes her logic is so quick to jump to the worst conclusions that she literally puts her foot in her mouth. And it hurts for me to write that every single time due to secondhand embarrassment but I have to commit.

Favorite line: "She loved you! She still loves you!" at the Prince during the final fight while she's trying to distract him (or something like that). Or Ori's first jab at Damak "Maybe you would see more of it if you stepped out of the shadows" since it still makes me chuckle.

brOTP: Even though the Ori/Damak ship didn't sail, I still think they probably stay pretty close and end up working together on jobs in the future. They absolutely still push each other's buttons, but that's just how they are and they don't question it.

OTP: I am so mad at myself retroactively for not giving into the OriRanna feels by the conclusion of the campaign but I do not regret bringing it up afterwards and getting to enjoy it now at least.

nOTP: Ori and Cobalt are forever divorced and they barely know each other, this is just canon.

Random Headcanon: Ori has a hard time accepting the fact that Sharaea is basically keeping her distance after the Prince's defeat. In part because she does feel that connection still and worries that Sharaea is hurting, and partially because it is such a strange sensation to her to be without the dreams for so long after such a major revelation. It takes her a long time to get used to it, but she still wishes that there was more she could do.

Unpopular Opinion: I don't know if it's an unpopular opinion among our little group, but I never had intentions of making Oriana some kind of fated hero. I never had thoughts of making her tied to a major NPC or giving her any kind of serious destiny, I just wanted to play a radiant energy bomb with the aasimar/monk combo because I thought it would be funny once I pitched the idea to Sam and he told me about Damak who was basically her foil. But I do adore how her story developed and how well it ended up narratively.

Song I associate with them: So many... "Like the Dawn" by The Oh Hellos, "Warrior" by AURORA, and "Drumming Song" by Florence + The Machine to name a few.

Favorite picture of them: I like a lot but honestly one of my favs is the one I made of Chibs trying to hit on her, partly because it's Chibs and partly because I did really like how Ori's outfit came out in this one.

Mela —

Favorite thing about them: Literally the most wholesome member of the group. Not a bad bone or crystal in her body. I am so sorry for all that we put her though.

Least favorite thing about them: Only that I didn't get enough time to learn more about her and her backstory. Sigh.

Favorite line: "Real neighbors. Real family. Not just people that make you feel like you can pretend it doesn't exist."

brOTP: Mela and Halion. Druid buddies that deserve the world.

OTP: Mela is an independent Genasi who don't need no one... though I could be swayed about a certain fae...

nOTP: Literally anyone who would try to be mean to her in a relationship will meet a swift end by my hand.

Random Headcanon: 100% think that Mela's magic is flavored to look like the crystals on her body. If she wildshapes and doesn't specifically want to look a certain way, the animal she changes into will have things like crystal horns/claws, the flame sword she summons has the appearance of a crystal blade, etc.

Unpopular Opinion: I do wish she had gotten a chance to use wild shape more. I think Mela being a cute little critter sneaking around would have been amazing.

Song I associate with them: "Come Out and Play" by Billie Eilish

Favorite picture of them: That dang sketch I never colored, rip

Vaela —

Favorite thing about them: Drinking game QUEEN. Also just the fact that she doesn't take any shit while still having a lot of heart and empathy to those who earn it. Something about that balance between the two just made her all the more lovable.

Least favorite thing about them: she can out-drink my high constituion monk I do think I missed out on really getting to know her during the campaign, and I regret that a lot.

Favorite line: Not a specific line but I think back to Vaela's talks with Erosen when he was ready and willing to be her stand-in dad before Vaela was ready to reach back out to her family and i can't help but smile.

brOTP: Vaela, Riven, and Mela is the real brot3 and nothing can change my mine

OTP: I mean... I definitely have a certain paladin that turns a lovely shade of pink when someone talks about her because she sure is pretty and really cool to boot~

nOTP: Zaresh and his memory is not allowed to ever hurt Vaela again. If Damak didn't do it, Ori would have definitely put him out of his misery.

Random Headcanon: Very little thing, but I could see her gathering small, light trinkets that remind her of her friends and tie them to her bow, possibly for good luck, and possibly as a way to to tell which direction the wind is blowing when she's aiming.

Unpopular Opinion: I still think it would have been cool for her to pull an Erosen and punch Zaresh in the face. Just once.

Song I associate with them: "Dear Fellow Traveler" by Sea Wolf

Favorite picture of them: So fun fact: I never finished them but I started making emojis of the party members for kicks and here's the one I started of Vaela:

Riven —

Favorite thing about them: Riven's sassiness and perfect comedic timing always leaves me in stitches. She really felt like the heart of the party in that way.

Least favorite thing about them: This is the hardest thing and most of my "least favorite" things are mostly the things Oriana keeps fretting about when she thinks about Riven being in such a high position so I'm gonna go with not much at this time to be honest.

Favorite line: Not a line again, but specifically the scene between Ori and Riven where Riv dressed her up while Ori reassured her that she didn't think any less of Riven after they all found out about her half-drow heritage. That always felt like a major point in their friendship and I hold onto it fondly.

brOTP: I wanna say Riven and Halion just because I think their friendship was so neat, and it hurts a bit when I think about their falling out post-campaign. But there's also Riv and Damak's sibling-ish dynamic that I love a lot, too.

OTP: As much as he pushes Ori's nerves, I do think Riv and Delethil are on the same wavelength as each other and fit very well together, even with Eravin in the mix.

nOTP: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Random Headcanon: On the occasions where Oriana comes up to Aerenth on business (either with Ranna for her research or at the request of various Tyados officials who think she's got some kind of in with them because she's friends with Riven), Ori always makes a point to find Riven and any of the other girls that might be there with them after all the formalities are done and run off into the woods to find a clearing to just hang out in like they did before.

Unpopular Opinion: As much as I understand the reason why she and Del made the choice to execute Vasion, I still disagree that it was the best decision.

Song I associate with them: "Savage Daughter" by Sarah Hester mostly because of the rebellious vibes

Favorite picture of them: I mean... I think it's obvious (also bonus Vaela).

[fandomshatepeopleofcolor]

on top of all the stuff mentioned in the ask about the movie I just learned that the Oppenheimer movie has what was described as two long sex scenes with full nudity or partial nudity idr exactly which normally I have no issue with and I know this movie is about this guy's life or whatever but idk kinda feels not the most appropriate thing to focus on in a movie like this. It's also weird Nolan usually doesn't have scenes like this in his movies and this is the first of his movies to include such scenes

so for those of you wondering why nonny is talking about Oppenheimer here its because of this ask

So I don't want to sound like a swerf here but I do think that sex scenes should serve a purpose. now granted I haven't watched the film (and I wont be seeing it theaters any time soon). and honestly I feel like this is more of an ask for fandomshatewomen...

but here goes my opinion.

like the thing with sex scenes is again they should serve a purpose. because if it doesn't serve a purpose narratively it can literally just be sexism. you wanted to show nudity. but with Oppenheimer... they're mythologizing oppenheimer over his very real impact of creating a weapon of mass destruction. not only that but like you can still talk about oppenheimer and his legacy of murder (300k Japanese lives were lost to his bomb I don't care what the wiki says) but why aren't they focusing on the devastation of the Japanese people? Like the purpose of the sex scenes will be to humanize Oppenheimer make him seem real and sympathetic (he's just like us he takes solace in an affair with a younger woman! he's flawed!) and even if I'm wrong about the sex scenes being with Florence pugh (who plays his mistress) even if the sex scenes are with Emily blunt who plays his wife... I dont get whyyyy now Nolan is showing us sex scenes. like why not a sex scene in Tenet?

No they're doing it in a film where they want us to sympathize with a literal mass murderer.

anyways I'm sorry if I'm not making sense here I just ugh everything about this movie rubs me the wrong way. but thanks for dropping by nonny! for future reference if you want to talk about sex scenes or a movie with an all white cast please go to fandomshatewomen or @fannishfeminists (I'm there too).

mod ali

[homenecromancer]

anyway here’s how D2ne in IMAX went / some thoughts

- i gotta see/read something at least twice for things to really start coming together for me, because i am a slow learner lmao

- it’s gonna be different for each viewer, but there’s definitely a point in this movie where things kind of click and you go “oh, this is a Villain versus Other Villain movie, there’s no hero here” and from that point forward it absolutely whips

- for twenty years i have enjoyed watching/reading bad things happen to Paul Atreides, and Timothee Chalamet manages to hit an excellent balance between making you feel bad for a guy swept up by forces beyond his control at the same time as he makes you aware that Paul is not as helpless as he feels like he is. equal parts “oh no this poor guy” and the dread of watching something like a natural disaster wearing human skin.

- the final fight scene with Feyd-Rautha is pretty much impeccable, which i say as a person who has almost-universal trouble processing wtf is happening in fight scenes, blow-by-blow. but in this scene i thought it was well-communicated that Paul has almost met his match, but Feyd-Rautha is ultimately just not good enough. i tentatively propose that Paul’s ability to get stabbed twice and not just keep fighting, but win, and then dominate the Emperor into kissing his ring, is due to Bene Gesserit training in mastery of the body. he’s the Kwisatz Haderach because he can access both male and female Other Memory; he becomes Emperor partly because of his Bene Gesserit training, forbidden to men. symmetry

- because i was a preteen when i read Dune for the first time, a lot of things went right the fuck by me and a lot of characters just didn’t really make an impression on me. but these two movies bring life even to those characters who aren’t on screen for all that long

- like, despite her pivotal role in Dune and Dune Messiah (and supporting role in Children of Dune), Irulan made very little impression on my child brain. Florence Pugh is so absolutely perfect on-screen that — okay, i won’t say all without checking (and i’m not doing that at work), but many chapters of Dune begin with quotations from Irulan’s written work. an insane way to adapt this for the screen, to emphasize her presence, would be to have her do a voiceover before every scene. this would be a terrible decision. i would watch every god damn second of Florence Pugh as Irulan doing that.

- Chani is unfortunately a bit of a non-entity in the book — as the focus on Paul gets tighter, and he adjusts to life with the Fremen, she fades into the background a little bit, and we lose insight into her inner life. which is a huge shame, because you could write a whole book just about what happens to Chani in the timespan covered by Dune. i have never seen anything else she’s in, but Zendaya does a fabulous job as Chani, and makes her character absolutely come to life. like i’m in delighted suspense hoping the Dune Messiah adaptation comes through just because Chani and Irulan both have so much going on in that book, and i want to see these actors play those roles so bad

- Rebecca Ferguson continues to be great as Lady Jessica — she has a very similar “fuck it, i’ll be evil” kind of arc as Paul (though Jessica is notably much less willing to commit to Full Evil than her son), and Ferguson sells the hell out of it. when i first read the book, i certainly did not appreciate the horror of being pregnant with a fetus that’s a full Reverend Mother — i mean, i don’t even think Frank Herbert shows it as effectively as Ferguson does. her delivery of the line “She talks to me” is bone-chilling.

- she’s only in the movie for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but Léa Seydoux is very good as Lady Margot Fenring — her husband Count Hasimir Fenring does not exist in the movie, and Margot partially takes his role. let me explain a bit: Count Fenring is the Emperor’s bestie and hatchetman in the book, and appears in the final fight scene (where we learn he is a defective output of the Kwisatz Haderach breeding program). in the movie, though she doesn’t have any lines in that scene, Margot appears in his place. also different in the movie: Margot’s seduction of Feyd-Rautha is on camera, and rather than her husband, she is mostly seen with other Bene Gesserit while she’s on Giedi Prime. anyway. the Fenrings are two of the more astute characters in the book, and i thought compressing them into just the one character worked quite well

- is this movie exactly what i imagined when i first read the book? fuck no it’s not. and i cannot assess how well it conveys the themes of the book for those who haven’t read it. but as someone who has been waaaaay too into Dune at various points, i thought it was a very satisfying execution. much like Peter Jackson’s LOTR adaptations, i think Villeneuve’s Dune adaptations are technically impressive, beautifully executed love letters to their source material

- there are a lot of visually striking images and sequences in this movie, but the one that stuck with me this time is near the very end — as the Fremen charge out of the sandstorm at the assembled Sardaukar troops, there’s a moment where some Sardaukar are confronted by a towering wall of windblown sand. the sand at their feet begins to undergo liquefaction under their boots. then an enormous sandworm appears, looming over them like the face of God, mouth open and ready to swallow them whole. it’s so fucking dope

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

Hi,

I’m Paty and Im from Mexico. I’m planning a 1w trip to Italy for next year (my tickets are for September), this would my first time in Italy and I was wondering if you can give me some tips and guidance about where to visit. I have only 7 days so I want to get the max of my time there but at the same time enjoy my trip 😁. I’m on a tight budget but I’ve reserved some money for sightseeing and of course for eating great Italian food.

The first stop of my trip will be Barcelona and from there I’m planning to fly to Italy, so I still don’t have tickets for the domestic flights.

Anyway thanks

P.S you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to ☺️.

Hello!! I'm really happy you have the opportunity to visit my country ^-^ Barcelona is also really beautiful, the Sagrada Familia is honestly the single most-jawdropping place I've ever been in but also the rest of the city is so pretty. Go to the Boqueri market for snacks and smoothies!

So, Italy . . . it really depends on what you want to do/focus on? It's September so it's still summer, if you want sea and beaches then you need to do to the south. If you want to sightsee and visit the historical cities and museums and stuff, well, there's historical cities and museums and stuff everywhere, but you might want to focus on the center and/or north. If you are willing to spend a bit more money on transportation, then you can buy fast train tickets (Freccia Rossa trains) that connect the big cities in short amounts of time, so you can, say, fly to Milan, visit Milan, take the fast train to Florence, then take the fast train to Rome, then take the fast train to Naples . . . but of course the fast train tickets are a bit expensive (the Milan-Rome trip is 50-60 euros for reference) so you might prefer to stay in a smaller area where you can travel via regular trains and not lose too much time. In which case I'd suggest Florence and the surrounding areas in Tuscany.

(It also really depends on whether you're like me and when you're on a trip you get possessed by a demon who wants to See All the Things And Walk Everywhere, or you're more or a normal human being.)

As someone who lives near Milan I'm quite partial to that city, but, well, one must to to Rome at least once in their life, right? Florence is a gem. Venice I usually forget when I do this kind of recs because my experience was quite negative, but only because my brother is a wheelchair user and the city is not quite accessible if you are not familiar with it, but, I mean, it's considered one of the most iconic and beautiful cities in the world for a reason.

Naples is a city I sooo want to see more of because I went on a shitty badly organized trip with my school a long time ago, but there are some incredibly beautiful places if you know where to look.

Palermo, in Sicily, is one of the best places I've ever been in imo, but of course Sicily being an island it might be a bit of a hassle to reach on a time-restricted schedule. But honestly, if you just want to see beautiful places and visiting Thee Famous Cities is not a priority for you, you could just make a trip around Sicily and be thoroughly happy with it. (September is still warm, but it shouldn't be as scorching as July and August are, so it should be fine to move around.)

The region Puglia is also soo beautiful (the "heel" of the boot but also reachable by fast train, so it can be a valid alternative to Sicily). I've never been to Calabria but it must be worth seeing too, possibly though less equipped with good/fast transportation because of its geography and stuff.

Let me know which things you're most interested in, and I can totally help you plan your trip more in depth!! If you're interested in, you know, ~less famous but still worth visiting~ places in stead of The Big Famous Cities, we can also consider that too. (Some people totally prefer smaller towns to bigger, more touristy cities, which is valid.)

Also let me know if you're interested in things like art museums, archeological museums/sites, nature/parks or more urban areas etc.

[leighbot]

“You did what?”

“Sorry, is the connection poor?” Harry asks, pulling the phone away from his ear. He isn’t sure if the acoustics of a phone booth are setup a specific way, but he can only shove one side of his body into the small booth. Maybe some of the sound is escaping.

Niall laughs. “It sounds like you said you bought a villa in Tuscany.”

“Oh, perfect, then it’s clear like crystal.”

A Zarry Under the Tuscan Sun AU I’ll probably never finish

[septembersghost]

okay, this is partial mass catch-up of tag games over the past three weeks 😘💖💖💖

tagged by @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie and @moonlayl

name: jess

star sign: virgo

height: 5′3"

time: 12:21 am mountain time as i start to type

birthday: september 13

favorite bands/artists: this is always one of the hardest things for me to answer because i love so many...but on the constant and current list: taylor swift, harry styles, niall horan, (i mean...1D by default since 2019 i'm not sorry, they became a very real source of joy at a time when i was desperately sad and have remained so), fall out boy, fleetwood mac, lord huron, florence + the machine, frank sinatra, barbra streisand, ella fitzgerald, sara bareilles, gabrielle aplin, lady gaga, sasha sloan, lizzy mcalpine (she's new to me but i'm saying her considering i've listened to her so often lately), idk an infinite number of artists i'm forgetting...i love music.

last movie: oh gosh. it might've been tick tick boom, i've barely watched movies lately!

last show: only murders in the building

when did i create this blog: november 2020, but i've been around tumblr since 2011-ish!

what i post: LOL. sweethearts, my little chili babies, you have seen this blog. i post...anything that catches my fancy. all my favorite things. i post a lot. i need help.

last thing i googled: "bald cartoon villain" @arthurwilde knows why 😂

other blogs: all my previous three blogs still exist and i periodically login to them to try and keep them from being deactivated, but i'm not actually on them anymore (i've thought many times about going back to or reclaiming @saferincages because i still think of this blog as temporary and that blog as home, but it feels wrong to do it somehow)

do i get asks?: i do and i appreciate them!

following: 170

average hours of sleep: uh. unfortunately i have no such thing because cfs/me is a curse upon my existence

instruments: sadly no

what i'm wearing: pink floral bambi pajamas

dream job: so i used to dream of being a voice actor (or singing voice) because i thought it would be so fun to embody characters and be able to pursue my passion for music without some of the stage fright that accompanies it when you're live in front of an audience, but in a more realistic realm i really would have loved to do something with music therapy to combine the passionate part of it with being able to help people.

dream trip: the south of france (it will never happen, ya girl is housebound)

nationality: american 

favorite songs: how on earth am i supposed to answer this, it's impossible ;___;

last book i've read: the not so chosen one by kate emery

top 3 fictional universes i’d like to live in: rivendell from lotr, naboo from star wars (except not during the empire), whatever world they live in in the nightmare before christmas where i can walk between halloweentown and christmas land whenever i please 🎃🎄

besties this is only 23 questions and it said it was 30, i don't know where the other seven disappeared to!

***

tagged by @newromanticstv

a couple of these were the same as the above, so i only left the non-repeats!

relationship status: spinster

favourite colour: dusty rose pink

song stuck in my head: doomsday by lizzy mcalpine

something i want: to not be so terrified and worried every day? laughing/crying

***

tagged by @rogerhealey

fave color: since i already said my pink, let's add periwinkle blue!

currently reading: the baby-sitter's coven, next is don't tell a soul

latest song: the game of love by santana ft. michelle branch

latest series: better call saul (rewatch and S6), breaking bad (selective rewatch), bates motel, omitb, i need to catch up with what we do in the shadows (@rogerhealy i love that your list was all classics)

latest movie: if it wasn't the aforementioned tick tick boom, it was spiderman no way home, andrew garfield supremacy

sweet | spicy | savory (have to be careful with spice bc chronic illness issues)

currently working on: nothing planned!

***

tagged by: @endlesslydeath

post my top 5 tracks rn!

as i said, music questions are so difficult for me because i'm too emotional and attached! and if this is by current top plays i don't actually know lol, but i'm going to say on most frequent rotation lately are - satellite by harry styles, all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine, my love by florence + the machine, johhny can't decide from the tick tick boom soundtrack, this love (taylor's version) by taylor swift

***

i am not tagging anyone to do these since it's several haphazardly mashed together, but as ever, you're welcome to take any of them and tag me so that i can see! <333 🥰

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 21-24

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

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

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

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

chapter 21

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna go get breakfast?” She asked softly.

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

“And the wiiiife,” she teased.

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

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

“What?” Spencer asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

Sometimes Mindy would CC her in just for an opinion.

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

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

Mindy Patel, VICAP.

Attachment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think the unsub is my rapist.”

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

“Walk me through it.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, let’s tell the team.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.” Spencer looked disappointed.

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

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

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

He laughed softly, “I won too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it a good feeling?”

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

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

“Thank you,” she smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

0803

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

She wanted to kill him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

chapter 22

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

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

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

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

“Um, a few months now,” She blushed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” Emily smirked at her.

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

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

“So, you guys are in?” She laughed.

“Yeah!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” he nodded along.

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

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

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

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

“You better!” She teased him.

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shhh,” he whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” He slowed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spence-“

“Too much?” He smirked down at her.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On?” Prentiss pried.

“Well this morning she said and I quote-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

chapter 23

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey?” Spencer complained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct,” Derek nodded in her direction.

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

“Oh,” Penelope blushed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where was he going?” Y/N asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely,” they replied in unison.

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Guys?” Spencer called from the office.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, do you have any info on who owns and occupies 2256, Sheerly Lane?” Y/N asked softly. “Also send backup to this location, it’s where Perry’s iPhone is apparently and it looks sketchy as hell.”

She heard the clicking of the keys before she heard Garcia’s reply. “Yep, we have 1 occupant. Amy Romano, 46, left the building after her mother died. She’s been living there in room 333 for years, not renting any rooms out at all in the last 3 years.”

“A woman?” Morgan was shocked.

“Must be why we’ve never found the bodies, female serial killers are 90% less likely to ever be caught,” Reid added his fun fact, one she’s heard from him a handful of times before.

“Exactly,” Y/N agreed. “What do we know about her?”

“She’s an interesting one,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Her father was a minister, big bible freak. Her mother was the maid here at the hotel before being given the deed from the original owner’s family. She died in 1988.”

“How much of the religious upbringing rubbed off on her?”

“Enough to make her have multiple psychotic breaks, being diagnosed with schizophrenia when she was 15,” Garcia gained more insight. “Claimed to have been visited by God, and was told sinners are punished by word of god. That one day she would be the one to follow his word for the righteous man.”

“What if she’s doing her own form of conversion therapy?” Y/N gasped. “She’s not killing them. She’s following god’s word and freeing them from their sins. This is the perfect place to keep them. Locking them in rooms away from each other, secluding them and only subjecting them to a female for long periods of time.”

“Garcia, we need back up right now,” Morgan stressed.

“they’re 4 minutes out, good luck in there my babies.”

“See you soon, baby girl.”

Being left out of raids was weird to her, watching Spencer put on a bullet-proof vest and load his gun without her cover made her anxious. Luckily, she got to stand with JJ outside. Watching the building as they listened over their radiofrequency.

“Clear,” Morgan spoke over the system.

“Clear here as well,” Hotch said. “Meet me at the stairwell.”

“I hate this,” Y/N whispered.

JJ ran her hand along Y/N’s back softly, “me too.”

“Floor 3, room 33,” Hotch explained. “I’ll kick in the door, Morgan, you enter first. Spencer and Prentiss, follow our lead.”

Not having a visual was the worst part. There was no way to know where they were or who was there. They worked on sounds, if and when the team decided to speak.

“1, 2, 3,” Morgan whispered before they heard the door smash in. “FBI!”

Then it was silent again, too quiet for anyone’s liking, staring up at the third floor trying to hear everything in the neighbourhood.

“Amy Romano put the gun down!”

“No!” They heard before 4 shots were fired.

Y/N’s heart was in her throat; she couldn’t hear anything going on inside. The officers asked over the radio for updates, hearing nothing in return. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from running towards the apartment buildings before anyone could catch her. Up 3 flights of stairs, drawing her gun and walking towards the room.

Morgan was shot in the arm, down. Prentiss, hiding behind a table with Morgan and Spencer as she tried to stop the bleeding. Hotch in the unsub’s grasp, fighting for a gun.

Hotch noticed Y/N in the doorway. Kicking the unsub down. Y/N wrapped her arm around the unsub’s neck, putting her in a headlock as Hotch attempted to cuff her. She struggled like a wet fish against them, slipping out of her grasp and falling to the floor.

“If God wants to tell me to stop, he’ll tell me himself!” She screamed.

Y/N presses her gun to her head, “he just did.”

“Amy Romano you’re under arrest for the kidnapping of 24 men, attempted murder of a federal agent and resisting arrest,” Hotch explained as he cuffed her.

“Y/N!” Spencer stood up, looking at her like she was the crazy person. “We agreed, 3rd trimester, no fieldwork.”

“You didn’t reply on the radio and suddenly I was here,” Y/N explained, “I’m sorry.”

“We need EMTs, Morgan’s been shot in the arm. The bleeding is under control, just hurry.” Prentiss ordered over the radio.

“Y/L/N is going to need to get checked as well,” Spencer added.

“Why?”

“You ran up three flights of stairs, wrestled an unsub and got elbowed in the side,” Spencer explained, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.

“I’m sorry, I get it now I really do,” Y/N stopped him in the hallway, holding him in her arms. “I don’t like when I can’t see that you’re safe.”

Spencer kissed the top of her head, “I love you.”

“The baby’s kicking,” she replied softly, “that’s good right? 4 movements in 30 minutes after activity is a good thing.”

Spencer laughed, pulling back to feel her belly. “I’m sure he’s all hopped up on adrenaline now, come on let’s get him looked at quickly.”

—

They found 16 of the 24 men alive and in critical condition inside the apartment building. SCSI was canvassing the scene with local cops, taping up the building and surrounding property while the city discussed demolishing the building altogether.

Y/N was able to witness Noelle running into Jensen Perry’s arms, hugging him as they cried in his hospital bed. Y/N could imagine the trauma he was going through, the terror and the fear of something you really don’t want, happening anyway.

“Why do people do terrible things in the name of God?” Y/N whispered towards Spencer, looking up at him with soft eyes. Truly curious.

“The religious system runs similarly to cults, they believe the words are to be followed and thus they will gain entrance to heaven. If there’s one thing humans are afraid of more than dying, it’s internal damnation. Holding the fact that they will suffer in death over their head is a way to get them to do anything.” Spencer explained softly. “With the right person, the wrong message can actually sound like a pretty good thing.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, “how do you raise a good child in a fucked up world?”

“Matthew, 18; 1 through 5, At that time the disciples came to Jesus and said, “Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Spencer repeated the bible verse softly. “Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me.”

Y/N smiled, “I like that.”

“He was always supposed to be good, he has you as his mother.”

chapter 24

April rolled around out of nowhere. Suddenly the snow had all melted, the birds were returning, and the trees were starting to bud thanks to the week of thunderstorms.

Love was in the air, both in the wild and in Y/N’s life.

The wedding’s in 2 weeks and she’s growing daily. She wanted to wait till the last possible moment to get her dress. Wanting it to actually fit over her stomach on the big day without any struggle.

Being placed on office duty for the rest of her pregnancy made it easier, not being allowed to leave Mindy and Penelope's side, under direct order from Aaron Hotchner. She was starting to notice that the more pregnant she got, the more the men of the team wanted to protect her as well.

JJ said it was the same for her the first time, all the alpha personalities came out around the third trimester. It was like they didn’t quite register that a woman on the team was pregnant till it was abundantly clear.

The girls had all agreed to go to the dress store with Y/N when they had a free afternoon, but that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. Y/N ended up going by herself between cases while Spencer was on a flight, trying on 6 different dresses before she found one that made her happy.

The sales associate was being extra nice to her, knowing she had both a big budget and no time. It was an easy sale, but this wasn’t an easy decision.

She tried a sleeveless, skin-tight number on first. Not being able to even move once she got in it, not even bothering to look in the mirror. It wasn’t right, that was for sure.

Eventually, by #5 they had an idea of what she wanted. Long sleeves to hide her stretch marks, it had to be flowy but still show off the bump. And she wanted lace, embroidery even. Something that made it different, something that was more like her. Always growing, changing, adapting.

She was wandering the racks when she saw it.

It was so long, the train had to be at least 6 feet. It was light, made with sheer fabric so it would twist and flow with whatever direction she ran or danced. She could imagine walking through the grass with the train flowing behind her with purpose.

The most wonderful aspect was the long sleeves and the neckline. Cupping her chest perfectly with a nice ribbon right above her bump. The entire dress reminded her of something, the floral embroidery sending her back to a dress she remembers from her childhood, not able to place it but knowing it in her heart.

She looked in the mirror at herself, she felt beautiful. She shook her head lightly as a tear fell down her cheek. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

The sales associate shook a big bell then, causing everyone to look at her and cheer. “Are you saying yes?” She asked, as cheesy as it was, she loved it.

“Yes!” She cheered back, feeling the love from everyone in the store.

The dress was huge, she laid the bag against her passenger seat and stared at it for a while. It felt a little crazy that she was getting married in a few days, even crazier that she was having a baby in 2 months.

Her phone rang as she started to leave. “Hewwo?” She answered softly, knowing it was Spencer.

“I just got home, where are you?”

“Oh,” she smiled. “Penelope said you guys wouldn’t be back until 9, I went and picked out a dress.”

“Alone?” He sounded sad.

“It was better this way, I picked it for me and no one else,” she reassured him. “I’m on my way home now though baby, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, drive safe. I love you,” Spencer replied, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

“Love you too,” she hung up.

She sighed, turning on the stereo and driving home to her favourite albums. Driving alone was different for her now, she used to love just escaping into the Virginia wilderness, picking a road and an album and just going somewhere.

Driving with Spencer meant silence, hand-holding, humming and ha-ing as he discovered new facts that intrigued him. She loved it, the ambiance of Doctor Spencer Reid was not something you could replicate, it was special and calming and wonderful.

She couldn’t wait to get home to him.

He was waiting on the front porch as she rolled into the driveway. Joining her at the car, wanting to help her carry her things inside. “Hi,” she smiled at him as she stepped out.

He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek softly. “Want some help?”

“If you don’t mind carrying in my dress, I need to pee so bad!” She said, almost about to run inside when he stopped her.

“Like how bad?” He asked.

“Excuse me?”

“If you were to get surprised would you pee your pants?” He tried not to laugh as he asked.

“Spence?”

“Just go in,” he said softly.

She sighed, knowing what this meant. Walking up the stairs slowly, turning the doorknob just as slow. Not ready to have her eardrums blown out.

“Surprise!!”

Sure enough, there were balloons and flowers and her friends gathered all inside her front hall. “Oh my god?”

Penelope wrapped her in a hug first, “your first baby shower has to be special!”

“You guys really didn’t have to do this?” She was so shocked to be getting attention that she felt a little embarrassed.

“We wanted to,” JJ hugged her next, their bumps too big to hug normally, opting for more of a side snuggle. “I got you something to change into before we get started.”

Y/N took the small blue bag from her, kicking her shoes off before they went upstairs. Spencer joining with her wedding dress, hanging it in the closet and slipping back downstairs, unnoticed.

Y/N opened the gift bag on her bed, JJ looked around the room for the first time ever. Looking at the photos of their first day of kindergarten on the wall, the artwork they chose. How Spencer wrote notes to her on the mirror with whiteboard markers.

“You guys are really cute,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

Finally taking the dress out of the bag, it was just something simple. Blue with pink flowers. Something she’d definitely pick out on her own. “This is so beautiful!”

“I got it when I was pregnant with Henry and never had a chance to wear it,” She smiled, “thought that you’d like it more.”

Y/N hugged her, “seriously this is the best thing you guys could’ve done for me!”

“I’m also going to need a pink dress,” JJ said softly in her grasp.

“No?” Y/N was shocked. “Really a mini JJ?”

“Yeah,” she smiled softly. “Hurry up we have more surprises for you downstairs!”

—

It took her longer than she hoped to get changed. The baby was just big enough to make her winded all the time now. Having to stop and take a breather just from taking her pants off. Not to mention the struggle of standing up after peeing.

When she finally made it back down the stairs on her swollen feet, she heard a familiar giggle that she loved very much. “You didn’t?”

JJ smiled, “it was Rossi and Will, they flew them all in and got them here.”

Her parents, brothers and wives were all in the kitchen waiting for her. Then she saw Diana, who was pressed up close to Spencer having a conversation in their own little world.

She walked in and cried, hugging her parents for the first time in 5 months. Showing off her big baby bump and chunky face for the first time too.

“You look amazing!” Her mom complimented her, taking her hand and making her spin slowly.

“Thank you, I feel huge,” she smiled. “I can’t believe you guys are here, I’m literally coming home in 2 weeks!”

“When David Rossi calls you and says he has a jet picking us up, you don’t just say no,” her father laughed, wrapping his arm around Rossi. They were going to be something else together.

She gave Diana a big hug when she could, watching her rub her belly and talk to the baby through her stomach for a good 10 minutes. It was so cute, everyone in the room watched and swooned. Secretly always hoping Spencer’s family got a moment like this.

After dealing with the Riley Jenkins case, and Gideon leaving, they worried for him. They never expected him to just show up one day with a girl and start the rest of his life the way he did. But it just made sense. He sped through school and early adulthood well before Y/N, now they’re moving fast, just together.

They had pizza for dinner, spreading 6 different kinds across the counter and telling everyone to dig in. Y/N took a slice and walked around, mingling with everyone to ensure she thanked them for coming.

“Henry!” She finally found him with Chloe and Lizzie. He ran into her arms, giving her a big hug. “Did you meet my niece?”

“You’re my any?” He questioned her right back.

“Come here Clo,” she called her over, huddling them both in close to her. “You both get to call me aunty Y/N, isn’t that so cool? You’re new friends and you share an aunty!”

Chloe gave her a big hug, she was getting bigger and bigger every day, about to turn 4 in a few months. It felt a little crazy, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“How are you?” She asked her softly.

“I’m good,” she whispered at her, smiling before hiding her face in her dress.

“Are you having fun here? Did you meet buddy yet?”

“No!” Chloe’s face lit up.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” She gasped at them both, getting back up to her feet and walking with them to where Buddy hid in the laundry room.

He was curled into a ball in a basket of towels, peaceful in the quietest room in the house.

Chloe and Henry took turns petting Buddy, kissing his head and playing with his tail, it was good for him to get a little used to grabby kid's hands. She was a little worried about how he’d handle a baby, but he was a chill cat he never really cared about attention as long as he was fed.

Eventually, JJ and Lizzie found them, peeling them away from the cat with the promise of cake while Y/N opened her gifts from everyone.

Everyone was watching her as she sat down in the living room, feeling a little anxious like she had to perform for them or something. Spencer finally joined her on the couch then, wrapping his arm around her in a soothing motion.

“So,” Garcia started. “I took it upon myself to organize the party but I didn’t just stop there, I also emailed everyone a link to a chart where they could pick the category of gift they got you so that we avoided repeats and got everything you would need.”

“This is all so much,” she turned bright pink. “You guys really didn’t have to I feel like I haven’t bought anything for myself since I met Spencer.”

“Nonsense!” Penelope hushed her. “Here, pick whatever one grabs your fancy.”

Y/N’s eyes raked over the pile of gifts, “um that big one over there, why not.”

It was a big blue bag, stuffed to the brim with tissue paper. The card on the handle was signed, she opened it to find 'from; Erin Strauss' on it. “Oh?”

“She couldn’t come but she passed that along on behalf of the section,” Hotch explained.

Y/N didn’t waste any time opening it. Finding brand named everything that she would need for breastfeeding, losing her mind at the never-ending bag.

Almost every gift was the same, all themed and absolutely filled. She was never going to have to buy anything for Matthew, she got it all today.

Hotch and Haley got her a babies bath essentials set. Her parents equipped her with every form of linen she would ever need for a baby, as well as a quilt made just for Matthew.

Penelope bought easily $400 in clothes for him over the past 7 months, with the promise of not stopping any time soon. Derek and Emily got together to buy them an all-terrain stroller, for the walks they expect them to take down the back roads. Emily’s girlfriend even brought a mom after-care set for her.

Diana’s gift made her cry the most, opening the box to find old copies of childhood books. “Those were all Spencers when he was a child,” she explained softly. “His love for the world started with those stories, I would like for Matthew to know them too.”

“Absolutely,” Y/N wiped the tears off her face, leaning over to hug her. “If Matty ends up being even half as wonderful as Spencer I’ll be grateful.”

“Spencer, did you get her anything?” Diana asked him softly as she was still mid embrace with Y/N.

“It’s in the garage,” Spencer smiled.

She looked at him with excitement, “you didn’t!”

“I might have,” he smiled.

“What?” Rossi asked, hating suspense more than anyone on the team.

“I was joking about wanting to get an SUV and become a soccer mom,” Y/N’s whole face lit up. “Did you get me a soccer mom mobile?”

He smiled back at her, “here.”

She held the key in her hand, her car was old as hell. She has had it since she moved to Virginia and even then it was a 2004 model. She had never had a new car, with the fresh car smell and clean everything!

“I am so overwhelmed,” she announced, bouncing a little in her seat as she shook her hands. Stimming just a small amount in front of everyone in all the excitement.

“We’re all done celebrating you now, I think we can start getting out of your hair, right guys?” JJ stood and pressured everyone that wasn’t relying on their house for the night, out the door.

Penelope helped Debbie and Diana clean everything up around the house. Peeling Henry and Chloe away from each other was the most difficult part of the night, becoming fast friends and wanting to look at books all night together in uncle Spencers library.

Rossi offered to let her brother Levi and his wife stay at his place while Diana and Y/N’s parents took the guest room in her home. Harrison and Faith driving back to Fort Meade to their own house.

—

Y/N and Spencer sat up in their bed, leaning against the headboard as they listened to the quiet of their house. Their co-workers were gone, their parents were settled in the guest rooms and most likely still awake from the time difference. The day had been so crazy that she barely had time to wrap her head around it.

“So…” Y/N cut the awkward silence. “Wanna make out?”

He laughed at her, shaking his head. “Remember the last time you asked me to do that?”

“Yeah, I lost my virginity,” she whispered back at him. A little scared that everyone could hear them talking.

“We can't,” Spencer looked at her with wide eyes. “It's bad enough my mother knows I’ve had sex once let alone possibly hearing us.”

He nudged him a little, crawling into his lap and sitting there softly. Her belly pressed against him, filling the space between them as she held his face in her hands.

“They’re on the other side of the house,” she pouted. “Just make out with me?”

He kissed her quickly once, “why are you so needy tonight?”

“All day I’ve had everyone's attention but yours,” she explained softly. “I missed you and I want my Spencer time.”

He couldn’t say no to that, because he felt the exact same way. He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips and finally resting them on her back. She ran her thumbs over Spencer's cheeks, looking at him softly as she tilted her head to really admire him.

His lips were perfect, his nose was adorable. The way his stubble grew in and darkened his jaw was amazing. His bone structure, his eye colour, the way his hair just fell flawlessly into place with 0 effort. She sighed as she looked at him.

“I love you,” she whispered, biting back a smile as she waited for his response.

“I love you,” he giggled as he looked right back at her. It almost felt more intimate than sex, just staring into each other's eyes in a dimly lit bedroom, in the middle of the night.

She ran her hands up into his hair, combing her fingers through it. He tilted his head back every time, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling. She was about to smile when she got a sharp shooting pain in her hips.

“Oh, my, god,” she breathed out. “Ouch?” She scrunched her face with the pain as the sharpness dulled into the bone, just feeling uncomfortable as she tensed up in his lap. She didn’t even realize she was tugging on his hair in response to the pain.

“What?” Spencer asked, concerned as all hell.

“I think that was Braxton hicks? It was like everything down there just lit up in pain,” she explained with a horrified look on her face.

He ran his hands softly over her hips, soothing the skin in an attempt to help. “Are they bad?”

“It just feels like a pinched nerve at first and then a dull ache, it’s not the worst. I don’t enjoy it that's for sure,” she laughed a little louder. “God, I hope he’s kind to me on the way out.”

“I was doing research into the best drugs and techniques for birth for mothers that don’t want any drugs either because they’re sober or they don’t want to be removed from the moment,” Spencer explained softly. “There are a lot of options if you want to look into them with me this week?”

“Of course you did,” she smiled at him once again, feeling a bit better. “We also have to pack the baby’s go-bag.”

Spencer laughed at the way she phrased it. “Isn’t it just a hospital bag and a diaper bag?”

“No, it’s a mission to have a baby. It’s a go-bag.”

They kept giggling with each other over the dumbest things, staring at smiling as they laughed. Spencer’s hands roamed her back while she poked his face. Happily just talking in each other's space about the most random shit.

It was what she loved the most about him, that they could equally ramble about what they found interesting and the other felt just as excited about learning something new. They had mutual respect for each other's interests and feelings that ran deeper than most, truly loving every word that left their partner's mouth.

By the time they settled against the pillows and attempted to sleep it was half 1 in the morning. They turned all the lights out and still just stared at each other.

She booped his nose softly with her own, watching him scrunch his face as a result before giggling again.

“Do you have any idea what the case tomorrow will be?” She was only asking because she wanted more time with him, needing to find every topic to bring up so that the night never ended.

“Mindy’s pitching something to us tomorrow again,” he whispered. “You’ll be good at this one.”

“Oh I’m excited now okay, goodnight,” she closed her eyes and pretended to snore, making him snuggle in and wrap her arms around him, pulling her in close the way they liked it.

“I love you, bunny,” he said one last time for the night.

She sighed as she settled into him, “I love you more Spence.”

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Mon 15 Feb ‘21

Nothing wakes you up like a “hope everyone is doing alright!” from Louis! But how are YOU, he was asked. “Really good thank you! Motivated”, he said and “I've been doing a lot of thinking about my next record. It's going to be special! No concrete plans because I don't need that pressure while I'm writing. I'm sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album. Who knows though!” What song is the best bridge to the new record- “Great question. Walls, only the brave, kill my mind, copy of a copy,” (FUCK YES LT2 is gonna be SO GOOD and the callout to fan fave OTB? yes) and about a studio version of Copy, “Still in two minds. Maybe one day,” but new merch will be “soon” (that...word....) Anyway so exciting, love that he’s working and writing and thinking about when that stuff will be heard- the post time (roughly 9 am PST/ 17 GMT) is exactly his usual ‘I am working and here I am to provide some bi weekly fan service’ time, and Louis being back in work mode sounds like GOOD NEWS FOR US! Maybe we’ll even get to see his 29 year old face someday! Anyway he wraps it up and signs off with “Just want to acknowledge everyone who has helped with Defenceless. These moments make me immensely proud and reinforces with your support we're unstoppable.” We’re Unstoppable, Stream Only The Brave, OMG Louis, Next Record, I’m Excited, I Love You, and Clifford (um?) trended.

Nothing like Louis tweets to put everyone in a good mood! Wellll… not that good though. Yesterday’s complaining that not every person who worked on DWD specifically named Harry in their thank you notes did die down, but only because they were eclipsed by people complaining that Olivia Wilde did write about him. She posted a pic from set (Harry as Jack perched atop a very stylish vintage convertible) with a long caption applauding her supporting star, praising him for being willing to set aside his ego and allow the film to be “female-led” and Florence Pugh to shine, adding “he didn’t have to join our circus, but he jumped on board” and praising...his driving??! Uh, that is NOT what most people say… Anyway other than it being a lot of praise to merely say hey this guy was a decent human and that part about his driving skills reinforcing that they’ve probably never spent a non working second together off set, a perfectly normal and professional post-shoot post, but the tabloids are here to make everything ridiculous, never fear! First the Daily Mail posted a story last night about how Olivia had been photographed “returning to ex Jason’s house” “bearing Valentine’s gifts,” (1, those would be the post filming gifts most likely, 2, Jason is in London) and that Harry was “nowhere in sight” (now THIS I believe!). But then! Today Page Six reported that Olivia was seen (and pap pics were dutifully produced) moving her suitcases into “Harry’s house” and the Daily Mail CHANGED THEIR ARTICLE so it now says she’s packing up her things and moving in with Harry! Lol sure. Given that that house actually belongs to Jeff and Harry was rumored to be flying back to the UK today I actually find it plausible she might be planning to stay there for a bit post filming (ETA, OH! or bringing her stuff over to fly to the UK, where her kids are! IE share a private plane ride YOU KNOW WHAT this makes GOOD SOLID SENSE) but just as likely this is sheer nonsense. I guess with filming over we’ll have to live without the high key ridiculousness of “Harry is designing dresses for their wedding”, there was really nowhere to go but downhill from there. Oh well; anyway Joni Mitchell tweeted about the one year anniversary of Harry covering her song, Big Yellow Taxi! Very cool.

A tattoo artist posted a pic of Zayn’s arm showing two brand new pieces-- a large script reading ‘ICARUS’ and one of the NIL cover faces (red). Also partially visible, another unseen tattoo, fully healed- is it a lioness with Gigi’s face? (yes it’s pretty much as weird as you’re picturing) Ztans speculate that it’s a reference to Khai’s birth, which we were told by Gigi reminded Zayn of a lioness’ birth in a documentary they had watched, and tbh WHY NOT I would believe he would get that tattooed on his body, the weirdo.

[lantern-hill]

lines that hit different

((There is no one way to be a mushroom. Have you seen how fucked up they are? How god-ignorant and wild? Listen to the mushroom wisdom. Do whatever stirs your soul. (@moami)

We could just kiss, like real people do (like real people do - Hozier)

You’ll always be my favourite ghost (Big God - Florence + The Machine)

Food, sex, and death are the three great mediators of human experience. (@givemearmstopraywith)

Girls don’t have empty fields to run to anymore and somewhere deep inside they know that they are missing something vital, and they spend their lives looking for it. (@outpastthemoat)

[The] place between hopeless romantic and strong independent individual (@theparistimes)

If you want gardens, become the gardener. (Victoria Erickson)

If you aren’t dead, you’ve got time.

The human urge to tell a story spans centuries and millennia. (@keuhkopussirotta)

Effort is the most attractive thing someone could give you

Let’s weaponize comfort  (The world told me to hate myself; I realized the greatest act of rebellion was to love myself) (@feenyxblue)

Career goal: teeny sparrow drinking from a puddle after a storm (@plasticlove1984)

But poetry. Romance. Love. These are what we stay alive for. (Dead Poets Society)

Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you. (Welcome to Night Vale, Finknor)

Mostly void, partially stars // mostly void, partially thought (WTNV, Finknor)

Travelling is like flirting with life.  It’s like saying, ‘I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is not my station.’  (Lisa St. Aubin de Terán)

It is not because men's desires are strong that they act ill; it is because their consciences are weak. (John Stuart Mill; On Liberty)

The dead know the language of flowers only, so they keep quiet (George Seferis)

Maleficent frost in witching hours (Dion Anja)

You can have my heart if you have the stomach to take it (Yves Olade)

Let’s shake this poet out of the beast (Mitski)

[mixelation]

Prefacing this with "you don't seem like a person who likes Twilight" BUT you are the person who vibes most with "shitposty Karin fic ideas" so anyway: Team Taka ends up in Twilight, half their plot is having to protect Karin from people who want to eat her because magic blood smells good, everyone on Taka is annoyed about this because they JUST got used to 'everyone wants to kidnap/recruit Sasuke' and now they have to completely change up their tactics.

I’ve decided Italy is probably the the place with the highest density of vampires in Twilight land, so that’s where Team Taka crash lands. Karin’s super power is that she’s literally everyone’s singer, leading to them being attacked by vamps, like, immediately. 

Karin doesn’t actually get bitten because her Ninja Instincts have her hurl herself out of the way, but I’m going to let vampires be fast even by ninja standards. 

Vampires are hard to kill because you have to either chop their heads off or set them on fire. 

Guess what Sasuke’s gut instinct for all threats is!

They get really good at killing the weird super powered people trying to eat Karin very quickly, but also, what the fuck is happening

In a manner of weeks, Team Taka has ripped through the vamp population of Tuscany, including a decent chunk of the Volturi themselves. Team Taka of course has no fucking clue what’s going on, other than “new world, funky language and technology, no ninja but yes.... monsters?” They locate someone who can speak Japanese and Italian, genjutsu them into being their translator, and that person ALSO has no idea what’s going. 

They have the brilliant idea to get their translator to talk to a vampire.

This ends with their poor translator being drunk like a juice box, but at least they figure out they’re being hunted by vampires!

I want at least one encounter to involve Suigetsu being partially drunk by a vampire. He turns into water, so the vampire venom doesn’t get into his blood stream, but it still feels weird as fuck. 

They have to go find a new translator. :(

Meanwhile in Forks High School, Alice suddenly starts cackling in the middle of English and has to excuse herself. She texts Carlisle that he should go ahead and book a ticket to Florence and also brush up on his Japanese.

The Volturi don’t ask for help with the “random human teenagers capable of killing vampires” thing, but Alice has determined the only way to keep Team Taka from tracking down the Volturi’s nest, lighting it up with magic black fire, and sending the vamp world into chaos, is for Carlisle to go make a peace offering. 

Carlisle follows Alice’s instructions to a flat in Florence, where Team Taka have been staying with a Japanese-Italian person that they’ve genjutsu’d into being translator #4 so far. 

Carlisle has enough self control not to lose his shit and eat Karin, but also he can smell her from like. Kilometers away. 

I’m going to handwave that since the Cullens seem to just pick up hobbies (like learning languages) for fun, Carlisle does speak Japanese well enough to talk to Team Taka. His grammatical structures are pretty basic, but his accent isn’t horrible and he knows a lot of medical terminology, which helps with explaining vampire things. 

Carlisle convinces Team Taka to come back to Forks with him. Basically, he promises them that Forks has its own team of anti-vampire shapeshifters who can help fend off random vampire attacks. Given that he’s also the only vampire they’ve met so far that can be within a km of Karin not try to eat her, they’re willing to trust him. 

They have to delay their flight to the US for a few days so the Cullens can temporarily vacate Forks, because not everyone has super-control. I’m thinking we’ll let Edward and/or Esme stay, and have Alice confirm that she can’t see them trying to eat Karin. (Edward, since he keeps making out with Bella, now has great self-control!) 

As part of their peace offering, the Cullens let Team Taka stay in their house while they’re gone. It’s.... really hard to stay in a confined space with Karin for long periods of time, but they’re willing to try! 

Karin: Actually all of you being so tense all the time is literally keeping me form sleeping. Bella: You could stay at my place.....? Karin: Hmm.....

Team Taka actually doesn’t want to split up, and also they’re renegade ninja, so what happens is the Cullens loan/buy them camping equipment and the go live in the woods. They do use the Cullen’s address to enroll at school! Then it largely just collapses into a high school AU. 

Edward speaks okay-ish Japanese.

Bella doesn’t know fuck-all about Japan or the Japanese language, but she’s the one who thinks to research ESL study guides and have Edward download duolingo on their phones (which Team Taka barely knows how to use)

Jacob definitely watches anime and can say a random assortment of things which drive Edward up the wall but which Suigetsu & Juugo think are hilarious

Suigetsu: (laughs so hard he turns into a literal puddle)  Jacob: Hmm, and I thought I had weird powers. 

The first time Jacob transforms into front of them, it’s because they think a vampire coven has shown up for some reason. 

Jacob: I’ll go check it out. (BEGINS TO REMOVE HIS CLOTHING) Karin: EYES EMOJI Karin: I don’t know what’s going on but I’m here for it. 

Like I just think “handsome boy her age has to get naked to protect her” is something Karin would be into?

I’m going to say Sasuke learns English fastest, because sharingan makes memorizing things a cinch, and also he can copy people’s mouth movements so he can mimic the sounds better and has prefect recall for trying to remember how native speakers phrased things. 

I think Suigetsu (and maybe Juugo) would bro out with Jacob. Like Edward is uptight and Bella is a nerd, but Jacob is down for deeply stupid super-powered teenaged boy stuff. Also he has a motorcycle, which makes him cool. 

Karin and Bella get along. Despite the language barrier, Karin can Sense there’s some excellent romantic drama going on in Bella’s life (which Karin would like to watch, thank you very much, especially since everyone involved is beautiful), and also that even though Bella seems shy, bitch has a wild side. 

Also there’s one moment where Bella notices Karin’s scars and Karin is already mentally making a list of the words and phrases she needs to look up in order to explain to Bella that she can fuck off with her sniveling sympathy, and Bella does make a “oh my god, what the fuck?” face....

....but then later Bella comes back, rolls up her sleeve, and shoves her bare wrist under Karin’s nose and yep! That’s Bella’s own magic bite mark!

Like obviously it’s not really a comparable situation, but it’s definitely a show of solidarity

Also!! When Bella finds out Karin likes romantic dramas, she suggests that Edward orders some of Bella’s favorite romance novels in English and also in Japanese translation, so that Karin can practice reading and also then they can talk about the books together!!

By law of elimination, this means Edward and Sasuke hang out. 

I do not think Sasuke would like having his mind read, so Edward finds himself in some weird retaliatory genjutsu when he gets annoying about it. 

Sasuke: (thinking very intently about revenge) Edward, shifting nervously: Are you.... okay? Sasuke: (twitches) Edward: (wakes up three hours later in Canada with no recollection of how he got there)

This is the least friendship-y pair but also it’s either sit around in boyfriend chairs while Bella and Karin are shopping or..... go cliff jumping with the Bro Squad

It only manages to never come to blows because Sasuke saves Bella from some very dumb accidents that could only happen to Bella “My Flaw Is That I’m Clumsy” Swan, so Edward is like, “Well, I do not like randomly losing hours of memories, but at least I know my girlfriend is in good hands?”

Sasuke: Is she okay though? Edward, rubbing his temples: Do you believe in curses?

The overarching plot is probably the Volturi either wanting Team Taka to turn vampire or die. 

Sasuke: Why can’t I just set them on fire?

Carlisle: Because they’re the closest thing we have to a centralized government. You wouldn’t kill all the leaders of your shinobi villages with nothing to plug the resulting power vacuum, would you?

Sasuke: .....Hm. 

Edward, reading his mind: W H Y are you like this???

[laryna6]

Lina Inverse being An Actual Teenager explains a lot of the flanderized traits.

The mood swings: teenager. Eating a fuckton: growing teenager who also walks everywhere, fights with a sword and casts spells, all of which take a fuckton of calories. Like when they meet her, her new companions are all Judging You when Lina goes through tablefulls of food like a buzzsaw, but after being dragged into that level of exhausting bullshit OP demon fights they are also 100% down to murder for more calories.

The ‘good judgment’ part of her brain is not remotely hooked in yet. Yeah, normally she makes good tactical calls, because she’s a genius, but adolescence means your emotions suddenly get a heck of a lot more extreme and you need to relearn how to deal with them.

It actually made it into the anime that it’s not entirely terrible that Lina has no judgment of what she’s up against or idea of her limits, when Gourry and Zelgadis are ‘welp time to go die heroically failing to prevent the end of the world’ and she’s ‘look guys if you go into a fight thinking you’re going to lose you are 100% fucked, you need to have the right mindset.’

‘Why are Lina and Gourry not officially a thing/not a thing in-story despite her admitting her feelings for him’ - she’s an effing teenager and he’s 21 IIRC. That’s part of why Sylphiel is A Threat: she’s actually Gourry’s age and he could actually date her. Unfortunately for Sylphiel she did the whole Florence Nightengale thing right after Gourry had The Trauma specifically involving family murders over OP weapon, ending with him stealing said weapon in the hopes his loved ones would stop all killing each other, so he’s NOPE to a relationship with her because he doesn’t want to drag anyone into all that.

That’s also why Gourry is a bit condescending to Lina sometimes, since like yeah you’re a genius but you’re also a teenage moron. ‘I’m actually a little glad that the people who could tell her stories from when I was Like That for her to hold over my head are mostly dead...’

Lina’s relationship with having Feelings for Gourry isn’t tsundere: she’s an effing teenager who was obtaining a doctorate instead of socializing with any kind of normality. This is her first ‘I have Feels what do,’ the mazoku going ‘oh hey she has a loved one who isn’t actually The Chosen One let’s kidnap that’ and also she CAN’T pin him down to stop being jealous and having a conversation about her feelings would be Awkward bc again, teenager. 

Lina’s also one of the living seals of Shabranigdo as per Rezo, and there does seem to be bleedover. Of the three we see, she’s the only one with anything resembling like... ‘murdering children is wrong.’

Rezo is a Complete Monster, Luke suggests killing literally everyone except this one human who has decided ‘I like this one’ re and like OMG being a morality chain is exhausting Gourry has it so much easier than this lady with an Actual Teenager hitting on her... And when Phibrizzo wants to Fuck Up Lina enough that she’ll do the thing he wants even knowing what a horrible idea it is, he specifically kidnaps Gourry and has a child zombie he controls run themselves onto her sword. She knows the kid was already dead and it still fucks her up.

There’s one more vessel of Shabranigdo in backstory that’s, like, she’s specifically a Generation Xerox of. According to Milgazia he was an pretty good dude (until he got taken over, and that piece of Shabranigdo is still around, just in a Cold War stalemate that could end at any second), to the point he’s like, offering Lina a mercy kill partially in his memory if she needs one even though it’s discussed that if he did that his entire community of survivors would get slaughtered and the mazoku’s path to the human city beyond their mountain would be open. As in, he’s willing to pay that price to get her out if she thinks that what mfing Xelloss and Phibrizzo have planned for her is that bad and she thinks that’s the only way out.

But like... at this point Milgazia has gone way through trauma and terror in the face of eldritch abominations sent to kill everything getting slaughter after slaughter, win after win, to the point they’ve just killed so fucking many people, species and gods there’s very little the world can even do to delay the inevitable anymore to this zen of ‘every extra day anyone lives is a Fuck You’ so like, Lucas Magnus could have been the total Murder Hobo a lot of people think Lina is, and Milgazia would still have been ‘kudos’ for being alive in general, much less fighting the mazoku and thereby delaying a lot of other people’s deaths.

Milgazia: ‘yeah... me and this socially awkward teenager who ran away to fight even though her community said Hell No are literally all two species could send to fight the apocalypse, a third didn’t bother to respond to the message because their numbers/gene pool are so fucked from preventing the last apocalypse that if they take ANY casualties in this they’re dead anyway so the fate of the world is w/e’ Milgazia: *makes a Dad Joke* ‘Look if we don’t make dad jokes when we’re all about to die then none would ever have been made since the world’s been fucked since immediately after the creator realized part of their body just got torn out and wanted it back’

...yeeeah... I’m kind of wondering if there’s a reason a teenage girl is signing up for something that will get her away from a species desperate to repopulate... like, she does want to Save The World but yeeeah I’d want out of there too.

[celestep]

okay I found an older snippet and I may be considering...writing again??

If I do write more, I think it would have to be AU but here's an older snippet that is not!

Note: Even though this is a Jily snippet, it's a convo between Lily and Sirius

“Oi! Evans!”

Lily hardly registered the sound of her name. She had been in a terrible fog recently, and the lack of sleep certainly wasn’t helping.

“Evans! Lily Evans!”

She stopped walking and turned to see Sirius Black jogging towards her.

“Something I can do for you, Black?” She asked flatly.

“What are you up to right now?” He asked, by way of answering her question.

“Er, free period. Was going to try to catch up on reading for Charms...”

“You mean, like you tried to this morning before breakfast? I’m pretty sure you spent an hour on the same paragraph.”

“Did Potter tell you that? Or has watching me silently become a group activity?”

“James will be delighted and embarrassed to know you’ve clocked that, so cheers. I’d be happy to make the case for my best mate and to explain his creepy new choice of courtship, but that’s not why I’m here.” Sirius rattled off, smirking.

“Oh? And why are you here?” Lily asked, slightly exasperated.

“You need to have a laugh with a mate. Or a deep conversation with a mate. Whatever you want, really. I just know you’ve been a real mess lately,” he paused slightly, perhaps expecting a telling off. All he got was a slight shrug of agreement from Lily. “And I know what it’s like, being a real mess. And I know that what you need is to spend your free period with a mate.”

“And have you brought me one? Perhaps your best mate?”

“Ah no, James would be rubbish right now. We voted and your mate is me!”

“You. You, Sirius Black, are going to pal around with me?” Lily asked, cocking an eyebrow. “You are aware we hardly speak, aren’t you, Black?”

“Yes, yes, that point was made. I certainly thought Remus would be the clear choice, but it was an unanimous decision by the end. We were meant to be friends, Evans.”

“Oh, really?” Lily asked, putting her book in her bag. “Also...unanimous? Remus voted? For you?”

“Once again, I, too, was surprised, but now you’re stuck with me, Evans. So you should decide what you’re more in the mood for, complete distraction or deep conversation?”

“Is my Charms reading an option?”

“Nope!” Sirius said grinning. “Although we could flip a coin, if you’re terribly torn.”

“Ah, tempting. But no, I suppose I pick deep conversation, as I hardly trust whatever you have up your sleeve as a distraction. Although, if we’re to have a deep conversation, may I request a butter beer, or perhaps something stiffer.”

“Miss Evans!” Sirius gasped in mock indignation. “I am shocked that you would dare ingest alcohol before classes are done for the day.”

“I mean, I only have history of magic left. While I usually wouldn't, I hardly feel that sobriety is crucial. If anything, being a little tipsy might make class slightly more interesting.”

“Positively scandalous.” Sirius said, grinning at her. She smiled back despite herself. “Lucky for you, Miss Prefect, I happen to have a wee bit of fire whiskey on me at the moment.”

He reached into his rucksack and paused for a moment, staring hard at Lily.

“This isn’t some trick where you’ll write me up after, is it?”

“No,” Lily smiled again. “Although I reserve the right to write you up depending on how this goes.”

“Ah, fair enough. No faith in me whatsoever.”

“Not no faith. Just well-informed faith. Faith on top of a first-hand knowledge of your previous behavior.” Lily teased.

“Yes, yes. I’ve been very bad. I’m well aware.” Sirius said, handing a flask over to Lily. The flask had been a Christmas present from Peter and Sirius had taken to carrying it everywhere, although this was the first time in months he’d actually broken it out to drink. Lily took a long swig and made a scrunched up face.

“Oh, Merlin,” she sputtered, passing the flask back. Sirius took a drink and, to Lily’s enjoyment, made an equally silly face. He passed it back to her and they walked out to the courtyard together, passing the flask back and forth and laughing at each other’s attempts to drink with any dignity.

“Okay. So what’s been going on with you lately?” Sirius asked, offering her the final sip from the flask. He watched as she took the flask and paused, sighing deeply before throwing her head back to finish the drink off. She cringed and shook her head.

“Where to start?” She asked, laughing drily. “Er, well. I have no friends. Well, you know that or you wouldn’t be here.”

Sirius thought about jumping in to contradict her but decided to wait and see if she’d keep talking.

“Let’s see, my sister hates me. I’m absolute crap at transfiguration. And our world seems to be pretty much headed into straight out war, so there’s that.”

Sirius nodded and looked at her. “Okay,” he said. “Now, some of that is definitely true. But, and I mean this with the utmost deference to your own experience, you know some of that is total rubbish.”

“We are definitely heading into a war-“

“Oh, yeah, that’s true.” Sirius said. “Sorry, I’ll clarify. You do have friends, although I will concede that you’ve lost your best mate, and that - despite my...opinion of him - is bloody awful. And you’re not absolute crap at Transfiguration.”

Lily laughed a little, in spite of herself. She looked down and asked quietly, “It is bloody awful.”

Sirius simply nodded and waited. She was amazed at how easy it was to talk to him and felt that it couldn’t be solely due to the fire whiskey.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret cutting ties with him. I don’t care how shit the two of you can be to him, no amount of provocation should have made him say what he said. And we’re not going to be in school much longer - soon the sides we’ve picked aren’t just about who we sit with, they’re life or death. Especially for me.” She sat in silence for a moment. “And it wasn’t a healthy relationship. Not for a long time. You know, he always made me feel a little foolish for wanting to be friends with anyone in Gryffindor. It’s why - you’re wrong, you know. Alice and Mary and Marlene and all them, they aren’t my friends. I mean, I like them and they like me but they’re a group. They’re friends and I’m just... there.”

“To mimic my best mate for a moment, you, Lily Evans, are never just there. You may not be close with them but everyone wants to be friends with you. You’re almost irritatingly likable. They’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”

“My goodness. Sirius Black, that sounded like a compliment.”

“Eh, you don’t spend as much time with James as I do and not wind up with some favorable opinions of you. And, er, if you don’t mind my saying so, he’s a pretty clear solution to your transfiguration problem. He’s top in the year there and a pretty good teacher as long as you can keep him in line, which obviously you have no issue with.”

“Well yes, I did think about asking Potter but he’s been - as I mentioned before - rather quiet lately. He, er.... he stares quite a bit. But he hasn’t spoken to me since, well, last year at the lake.”

Lily glanced at Sirius to see if she could read his expression. She hadn’t meant to broach the subject but she felt as though Potter was scared of her. While she certainly didn’t miss his constant badgering for her to go out with him, she didn’t enjoy this other extreme. James was in every class with her and best friends with one of the few people she felt remotely close to anymore. Two of them, now, I suppose, She thought to herself. Sirius seemed to be debating saying something. Lily shook her head lightly.

“They’ve just been waiting for me to ask? What does that mean? I just walk up to Mary MacDonald and say, ‘Hullo there, Mary. I’m finally ready to be close with you all. You may welcome me into your friend group now’?”

Sirius laughed “Well first of all, I’d lead with McKinnon. I’d say you could probably lose the speech and maybe, I dunno, just sit with her in Potions.”

“Sit with Marlene in Potions.”

“Yeah, well. I happen to know that Marlene is a bit desperate for a new Potions partner. That’s one of the classes Mary and Alice are partners for. Marlene used to sit with Worthington, but he’s started seeing that other Ravenclaw, Florence something, so now they want to sit together. But Marlene doesn’t want to get stuck with anyone who’s naff at Potions.”

Lily blinked. “I didn’t realize there was so much to know about our seating in Potions. How do you know all this?”

“Partially because I get bored easily, partially because Marlene and I have gotten a bit, er, closer recently.”

“Ah, I see.” Lily grinned. “And why haven’t you partnered up with her, then?”

“As I said,” Sirius grinned back. “She doesn’t want someone who’s naff at Potions. I’m easily distracted. She likes to actually, you know, work. Like a certain swotty Prefect I know...” He waggled his eyebrows at Lily and she smiled.

“All right. I’ll sit with Marlene in Potions.”

“Excellent. One problem solved.”

“Indeed.”

“Now I don’t know much about your sister,” Sirius said, changing the subject and leaning against the nearest arch. Lily was a bit surprised that he’d circled back to her family before the unfinished discussion of James Potter. “But I do know a lot about hateful family members. So while I can’t necessarily fix this one, I can at least commiserate.”

“Ah, yes. Of course that’s why Remus voted for you.”

“It certainly was.”

“Remus always says an unsolvable problem is only tolerable with company. And I know how frustrating he finds venting to someone who can’t, er, fully relate. I think he once said ‘empathy can only go so far’ on a particularly snippy day.”

“Ah,” Sirius said, narrowing his eyes for a moment. Lily realized he was trying to suss out how much she knew about Remus.

“Though I imagine it’s a little easier to find someone else with a contentious family life than someone who could, you know, fully relate to Remus.”

“So you do know.” Sirius said, suddenly a little uncertain and untrusting. “Snape told you, I suppose?”

“Oh I guessed long before and, to be fair, he never actually confirmed it. I was sure you all knew I knew!”

“You guessed it?” Sirius sounded half impressed, half terrified.

“Don’t worry, I truly don’t think anyone else has. It took Sev forever to get there and he was working at it for ages. Although I will admit he may have gotten it a bit faster had I not been throwing him off course a bit. But still,” she continued, eager to reassure Sirius, “I have never heard anyone else so much as suspect. Most people just feel badly about his mum and don’t want to bring it up. Right clever choice If you ask me.”

“How did you guess? When did you guess? And why on earth would you think we knew?” Sirius sputtered.

“To answer your first two questions, I had a bit of a crush on Remus during fourth year. We sat together in Ancient Runes, and we studied together,” she found herself blushing slightly even though she hadn’t fancied Remus in years. Sirius looked deeply amused but mostly still focused on how she uncovered such a secret. “And, as I was perhaps a tad more focused on him, I noticed that his mum’s illness always lined up with the full moon. And then I noticed a new scar and put together a pretty good guess. I wasn’t quite certain until fifth year, because we do our rounds together. He was always weak and sick before the moon and often injured after. And I assumed you knew because I cover for him whenever the full moon comes up. I mean, I didn’t think you all thought I was suddenly happy to lie to McGonagall and Dumbledore for no reason.”

“Er, no. I mean, I suppose Remus was a little surprised at first but then James wouldn’t shut up about how ‘of course you’d cover because you’re a great friend and how lucky Remus was to have you as a friend and on and on’ so we just never brought it up again.”

Lily blushed a little again, and prayed Sirius didn’t notice. He did.

[carewyncromwell]

Cinderelly, Cinderelly, night and day, it’s Cinderelly~... ^.^ Okay..before I jump into the next part of the Cinderella AU, here’s your usual appetizer of random historical/etc. notes!

Although carriages were developed centuries earlier, actual coaches like the kind we think of from Cinderella stories were first developed in the late 16th century in Hungary, specifically a little town called Kocs. (The word “coach” and its alternatives in other languages, such as the German Kutsche and the Spanish and Portuguese coche, are thought to have been derived from the Hungarian kocsi, meaning “of Kocs.”) They then really caught on in the rest of Europe after Queen Elizabeth I of England started using them in the 1580s. The terms “coach” and “carriage” are often used interchangeably, but if one wanted to pin-point the advancements coaches specifically made in contrast to carriages of the past, there are a few differences one can pick out in how they’re built. Coaches generally are four-wheeled enclosed vehicles with doors and/or windows (glass was added in later centuries), and often include a “boot” seat on the outside for a footman and/or luggage to sit on. Coaches also generally have a reputation for providing a smoother ride than previous modes of transport because they’re suspended between the wheels rather than directly over or beside them. After the invention of the coach, one can find carriages (royal ones, in particular) adopting some of these same attributes.

Sadly wheelchairs really weren’t a thing in the 16th century. The first self-propelled wheeled chairs were developed in the mid-17th century and refined in the 18th, with sedan chairs or litters (A.K.A. chairs you carried) generally being used by the nobility prior to that. But there’s no way in Hell I’m not going to give McNully the independence he deserves, so I used a completely anachronistic design inspired by this antique wheelchair I found online, made circa around the 1840′s. Hey, this is a fantasy world anyway, so bleh. :P The flower detailing on the wheel is supposed to evoke an emblem I see being on Florence’s green and gold coat of arms (get it? “Florence?” “Flora?”). You might also notice that McNully has little Snitch-like “wing” frills on each of his buttons! XD

Another fun thing I learned while doing research -- although cloaks were often worn for warmth during the medieval period and beyond, in England during the Elizabethan era, their use was actually actively discouraged and even prohibited, as they were associated with criminals and rebels! Therefore it was common for a lot of English noblemen and women to wear thicker clothing made of wool and accessories like muffs, gloves, and even jackets for warmth instead. I tried very, very hard to find historically accurate examples of period-worthy jackets and capes for women around the time of the Renaissance, and was very frustrated to find a lot of fantasy-esque costume pieces or historical clothing from later eras that were simply mislabeled -- but I did find one lovely recreation of a 16th century wool jacket, so that’s what I used as reference for Carewyn’s jacket in this sketch, though I personally imagine it as a dark red, so as to better blend with her burnt orange and beige servant’s uniform. Bill’s uniform is based off a real castle guard uniform from early 16th century France, though with a much simpler color palette (I see Royaume’s colors being blue and red). Like with McNully’s chair, there’s a crown on the chest of Bill’s uniform, which I see being on Royaume’s coat of arms (“royaume” is literally French for “kingdom”).

In her canon, Carewyn was born when Jacob was nine years old. Although in most of Carewyn and Jacob’s canon post-Portrait-Vault, they end up being only two years apart in age, that’s only because Jacob stopped aging while trapped in a Portrait for seven years. From Carewyn’s fifth year on, Jacob and Carewyn in canon therefore act much more like contemporaries, even though Jacob actually kind of ended up partially raising Carewyn alongside their mother Lane.

Previous part is here – whole tag is here – Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee and I hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Every day over the next week, Carewyn met Orion at the gate of the palace of Royaume, and the two would spend an hour or so together. Orion would ask her about life at the palace, Carewyn would playfully respond, and sooner or later, they’d end up getting diverted and talking about something else completely, whether the upcoming Winter Festival, the language of flowers, art, poetry, the meaning of life, music, fencing, or (after seeing a rather beautiful eagle flying overhead) what it might be like to fly. Carewyn honestly wasn’t entirely sure what Orion got out of their meetings besides entertainment, and naturally she couldn’t afford to indulge in such entertainment too long, when she had so much work to do around the castle and she still had to find out where Jacob was positioned. But she had to admit, with the King and Queen having invited Iris over to stay in one of the guest suites at the palace for the remainder of the month, Carewyn didn’t mind having an excuse to stay far away from her cousin. Lately Carewyn had actively planned her days so that she could clean the guest suites at teatime, when Iris would be in one of the foyers with the King, Queen, and Prince on the opposite side of the palace. She did not want a repeat of the other day, after all...particularly since she’d also need time to change out of the nicer, collared dresses she’d wear when spending time with Orion.

Orion, meanwhile, was of course getting a bit more than entertainment out of his and Carewyn’s meetings. Through speaking with Carewyn, he’d sussed out some very helpful information about Royaumanian culture, the dynamics within Royaume’s royal family, and both their and their country’s financial state. One day he told his closest confidantes at court, Skye and McNully, some of what he’d learned...but Skye didn’t react quite as favorably as Orion had expected.

“...I gave Lady Cromwell a copy of the sheet music for ‘No One is Alone’ last week -- you remember the song, of course? And from what I understand, Prince Henri and the castle staff have quite taken to it. Not that I’m surprised -- Carewyn has a very soothing voice. I’m sure she performed it very well. But the Prince listening to the words at all is a good sign -- I even asked Carewyn if the Prince enjoyed them, and she said she believed so. She also found their message meaningful...one of Florence’s best-loved anti-War songs, and one about looking through another’s eyes and forgiving past grievances, no less! That can only be a good sign, for Royaumanians to take heart in it. It surely must have been fate that Lady Cromwell and I collided at the market -- I had a feeling we were kindred spirits, when she came to my aid, but now I am most assured of it. I might hazard a guess that she wishes for peace just as much as I -- for the sake of her brother fighting in the field, yes, but also selflessly for the sake of others, not wishing to see any other person in pain...”

“She sounds like a perfect knight in shining armor,” said Skye, her voice oddly cutting.

Orion looked up at Skye, startled by her tone. Her arms were crossed over the chest of her faded blue linen dress.

“Anything else you want to tell us about the fair Lady Cromwell,” she said rather icily, “or are you actually ready to talk about how you plan to end this War?”

Orion blinked slowly. “...I thought that we were already discussing that.”

“Really?” scoffed Skye. “‘Cause it sounds to me like you were busy gushing over your new conquest.”

“Conquest?” Orion repeated. His confused tone then melted into something more soothing and indulgent, “Oh -- no, Skye...you misunderstand me. I have no interest in courting Carewyn -- she’s just my contact point, with the palace.”

Skye gave a very loud, disbelieving snort. “Ha! Right, of course she is -- that’s why you can’t stop gushing about ‘Carewyn this’ and ‘Lady Cromwell that.’”

“Skye has a point, Orion,” said McNully, though his voice was a lot less confrontational. If anything he sounded almost sheepish. “I mean, about 85% of your report was about Lady Cromwell. You used her name over ten times just in the span of a minute.”

Amazingly Orion’s calm, hard-to-read expression didn’t crack. His hands clasped lightly in front of him.

“Lady Cromwell plays an essential part in this strategy. I’m an outsider looking in, without her insight -- a ship sailing blindly, without the light from a lighthouse to give me direction.”

“A lighthouse for a lost ship -- oh yeah, those sound like the words of someone who’s focusing on winning a war and not swooning over a pretty face,” said Skye scathingly. “Maybe instead of always running off and playing dress-up, you could actually bother to do your duty and go help fight on the battlefield for once!”

Orion’s lips came together tightly, but it didn’t make his expression any less composed. McNully shot Skye an uncomfortable, faintly disapproving look.

“Easy, Skye,” he murmured. “You know Orion -- ”

But Skye didn’t seem to hear McNully. Instead she tore into Orion.

“Face it, Orion -- you just like being treated like a commoner again and being able to make believe that you don’t have any responsibilities or worries...well, guess what? You’re not a commoner anymore! You’re the Prince of Florence -- you reckon little Miss Knight-in-Shining-Armor would take kindly to that, when she finds out?”

Orion’s dark eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon Skye’s face.

“Carewyn’s not an unreasonable woman,” he said softly. “I’m certain she would understand the reason behind my secrecy.”

This, if anything, only seemed to make Skye madder.

“Of course she would,” she muttered sourly. “Little Lady Royaume can do no wrong in your eyes, can she?”

She turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Orion feeling very resigned and confused. McNully gave a heavy sigh, before facing Orion with a more serious expression.

“She’s overreacting, as usual,” he said, “but she’s still 60% right. It’s risky enough for you to get this close to anyone right now, when your position as Crown Prince is threatened by the likes of Lord Malfoy. He’d frankly love to have something like that over you. But someone from Royaume? The granddaughter of one of the most powerful, wealthy, and feared noblemen in their country? Orion, that’s dangerous.”

Orion leaned his hands on the table, looking down at the map of Florence and Royaume laid out on top of it.

“McNully, I assure you...my objective has not changed,” he said very levelly. “Everything I have done is for Florence -- for peace and balance. I admit, Lady Cromwell is a fascinating woman, and certainly one to be admired...but I spend time with her to gather intelligence I can obtain nowhere else. That is all.”

McNully looked doubtful, but didn’t directly address it. Instead he said, “I understand she’s your eyes and ears inside the palace, and the intelligence you’re getting is valuable...but don’t forget, she isn’t on your team. She’s on Royaume’s. And right now, Royaume is kicking our tail out there, on the battlefield.”

Orion’s dark eyes drifted away from the table as McNully leaned his arms on the table himself.

“It’s getting bad again,” he murmured very seriously. “I know you said the palace of Royaume’s strapped for funds, but somehow or another, they’ve scrounged up enough to get more cannons, and their troops have been moving them around every couple of hours so that our men never know where they’re going to be firing from next. It’s been very effective. Whoever’s been giving Royaume’s King and Queen military strategy lately, they’re a bloody genius.”

McNully clearly was irritated about this, given the flash that shot through his narrowed eyes.

“Your father sent me a request for a counter-strategy this morning. You know it’s likely if the strategy isn’t one he can execute on his own, he may ask both you and me to join him there, on the front lines.”

Orion did not respond. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was something oddly detached and avoidant in his posture.

“I know you don’t want that, and you know I have faith in you,” said McNully, “but your strategy is a slow burn, Orion. It requires both patience and time...and we might not end up having as much of those as you think.”

Once again, Orion chose not to answer. McNully sighed again.

“You know I’ll be right behind you in a coach, if you need me,” he said tiredly. “Just...mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

Orion threw on his black traveling cloak and headed back to Royaume not long after, hoping to meet up with Carewyn for an evening stroll. There was a notable chill in the air -- if it got much colder, he thought that any rain might instead come down as sleet or maybe even snow.

When Orion arrived at the gate, however, he was met not by Carewyn, but by KC. She was dressed in a high-necked gown made of black velvet and holding a leather-bound book and a stack of parchment in her arms.

Orion tilted his head slightly to glance at the piece of parchment on the top of the stack, which had several “X’s” scattered over an oddly familiar map.

“Plans to bury some pirate treasure?” he asked pleasantly.

KC gave a lightly amused snort. “No, just military plans.”

Her lightly freckled face then grew a bit more serious. “I guess you’re here for Carewyn?”

Orion had been ready to ask more about the military plans KC was holding, but decided not to circle back to it when she changed the subject.

“Yes. Has she been detained?”

“I guess so...” said KC. Her lips twisted into a concerned frown as she looked out at the darkening sky.

Orion’s eyebrows knit together over his eyes slightly. “You seem concerned.”

KC bit her lip. “Mm...it’s just...well, you see, one of the royal carriages broke down earlier today, when the Queen was riding through the country with Lady Yaxley.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Lady Iris Yaxley, do you mean? Carewyn’s cousin?”

“Yes. No one was badly hurt, fortunately, but the Queen, Lady Iris, and the coachman and footman were forced to ride the horses back and leave the carriage behind. When they got back, they asked the royal carpenter, Charlie Weasley, to go fix it. Charlie said that he probably wouldn’t have the proper tools to fix it here at the castle, so Carewyn offered to ride out with him, so that their horses could drag the coach together to the Weasley family cottage, about forty minutes away. The problem is,” she said with a deepening frown, “they left over two hours ago, and they’re still not back yet. Bill headed out after them on his own horse not long before you got here...he’s Charlie’s brother, so he knows the route they would’ve taken...”

Orion’s dark eyes had narrowed significantly.

“Which road did Sir Weasley take after them?” he asked, his calm voice nonetheless touched with the faintest edge.

KC pointed. “Northwest -- toward the mountains.”

Orion nodded. “Thank you.”

And with this, he turned on his heel and rushed back toward where he thought he might find McNully’s coach. He needed to borrow a horse.

Setting one of the black horses free of the black coach, Orion rode off toward the mountains, his slightly-too-long dark hair flapping freely behind him. The road was well-marked, but it soon veered off into dense woods as it migrated up toward the mountains. Orion had never gone so far west into Royaume before, let alone far from Florence before. Despite himself, he had to acknowledge the beauty of the landscape. The views of the castle below were breathtaking -- it looked as tiny as a toy, and yet the infinite glass windows made it sparkle like some diamond-like beacon in the darkening sky. He wondered if his own palace in Florence looked so beautiful to others, at a distance. As much as he himself hadn’t been raised a prince, it was difficult for him to look at his own palace as anything other than a cage.

As he went further uphill and the sky darkened, it also grew colder. Orion was starting to see his own breath on the air. He thought of Carewyn alone in the cold, perhaps hurt, and had to take several deep breaths to sooth his nerves. He was never in a right state, when he let his thoughts run too wild or his fears chatter too loudly.

Finally Orion caught sight of two familiar ginger-headed men, standing by an overturned coach, covered in mud and missing one of its back wheels. One of the men was the tall, freckled castle guard from the other day who Carewyn called Bill, dressed in his high-collared blue and red patterned uniform tunic and matching white feathered, blue-velvet hat -- the other was much stockier, but no less freckled, dressed in a burgundy-colored tunic and loose brown pants and boots, and he wore his ginger hair in a ponytail not unlike Orion’s when he was at court. When Orion approached them, Bill immediately reacted with suspicion -- Orion explained what KC had told him and asked where Carewyn was, and was incredibly startled to hear her voice coming from over the edge of the cliff.

“I’m down here!”

Orion couldn’t help but feel a flash of concern. He raced over as if to look over the edge, but Charlie lashed out an arm in front of the taller man to stop him.

“Uh, I wouldn’t look over if I were you, mate,” he said, having trouble biting back his laughter despite himself.

He pointed at the broken carriage. Hanging over one of the doors was what looked like the burnt orange and beige skirt of a dress and several wool petticoats.

Orion blinked a few times in great surprise, his tanned cheeks darkening with a faint blush. Bill, however, reacted with anxiety.

“Carewyn!” he shouted over the ravine. “Are you in your underwear down there!?”

“Ugh -- well, I couldn’t very well climb down into this briar patch and wrench this wheel loose in my dress, could I?” Carewyn called back up rather haughtily. “At least my bloomers are slightly akin to the sorts of trousers you all wear.”

“You’ll catch a death of cold out here!” said Bill.

“I’m all right,” Carewyn reassured him. “Ulk -- ugh -- I have the wool jacket Andre made for me on...”

Charlie took a step forward, his eyes moved up toward the darkening sky pointedly so as not to look over the edge as he called down,

“Bill’s right, though, Carewyn -- it’s getting colder by the minute...and it’s getting dark too. Are you sure you can lift that thing up and over all by yourself?”

“Ugh...I admit, it’s a bit difficult!” she called back. “But I think I can manage.”

Recalling Carewyn’s blatant refusal of help in retrieving her horse, Orion -- still fighting back a slight blush -- called over the ravine himself.

“We do not question your capabilities, Carewyn,” he said patiently, “but would you like our help?”

“Ugh -- don’t be silly,” said Carewyn, sounding faintly haughty. “You, Charlie, and Bill would break your necks, climbing down here. And I’m still in my undergarments -- I have no interest in anyone seeing me prance around without proper clothes on, thank you.”

“It’s no use,” Charlie muttered under his breath, “I’ve tried to offer her help for the last hour, but she keeps putting me off, saying she’s fine. I don’t get why she feels like she has to do everything by herself...”

“Probably because she’s always had to, Charlie,” said Bill quietly. His voice betrayed a lot of sympathy and sadness as he exhaled through his nose.

Orion’s black eyes deepened with some compassion for Bill as he called back over the ravine to Carewyn,

“Your points are well made, my lady...but we’d still like to help you.”

“Ugh -- you can help me by leaving me my dignity and not looking over while I’m only half-dressed...ack...”

“Would you accept us doing more than that?”

“Urgh -- I am...sorry to have made you and Bill come out all this way -- but I’m all right, really.”

Bill glanced at Orion out the side of his eye, and then back at the cliff. Despite his distrust of the man, the eldest Weasley was sort of glad he wasn’t the only one who disliked how reticent Carewyn was to accept help.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said earnestly. “I was -- we were worried about you, Carewyn. You and Charlie.”

He and Orion glanced at each other. Bill wished the other man’s expression wasn’t so hard to read. The castle guard tried to twist his uncomfortable frown into a smile that Carewyn would hopefully be able to hear over the edge of the cliff.

“Come on...let’s get you and that wheel up and over so you can get back into your dress.”

There was a silence. Then Carewyn said a bit more quietly,

“...You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Wha -- oh, come off it, Carewyn!” said Charlie exasperatedly. “To hell we do! You think I was mucking about, calling you my pal and saying I needed to figure out a nickname for you? Now let us help you, or I’ll consider making that nickname an irritating one!”

There was another silence. Then Carewyn sighed very loudly and tiredly, and Orion couldn’t help but grin, because he could tell she’d finally given in.

“Oh, all right,” she said begrudgingly. “But I don’t really know how you’re going to help, when you can’t look at me.”

Orion closed his eyes.

“Describe your surroundings, Carewyn,” he said. “Paint a picture for me, with your words.”

“...Well, I’ve gotten the wheel out of the briar patch. I’m trying to roll it back up, but it’s as large as me, and the downward slope and the ice is making it difficult. Plus the wheel isn’t in great shape -- all of its spokes are broken, so there isn’t much for me to push up on, while rolling it uphill.”

“I would’ve told her to just forget it, but it’d be much easier for me to carve a new wheel if I have framework from the old one,” Charlie explained. “I’m already going to have to make the new spokes and hubcap completely out of wood instead of using any gold or metalwork, but it’s still going to take a lot of time...even more so if the old wheel framework can’t be saved...”

Orion considered the matter, visualizing the set-up down below on the inside of his eyelids. “...What’s left of the wheel...is it made of metal or wood?”

“Wood...but there seems to be some sort of metal lining around the rim, held on by nails.”

“That’d be for durability, I reckon,” said Charlie. “Wood alone would get chaffed badly on the ground, moving in a constant circle down cobblestones or over anything rocky.”

Orion opened his eyes and looked over the broken coach. His gaze lingered on the thick leather straps coming off of the front that no doubt would’ve attached it to their horses. Then he abruptly got up, rushing over to undo the straps from the carriage.

“What are you doing?” said Bill, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Orion quickly knotted the long, thick leather straps together with several complex-looking and strong knots.

“Carewyn,” he called over very calmly, “I’m going to lower this down to you -- use the buckle and loop it securely around the inside rim of the wheel, so that it’s tight. Give it a light tug when it’s secure.”

He blindly tossed one end of the rope made out of leather straps over the edge of the cliff. After a minute, he felt a light tug at the end.

“Gentlemen,” Orion murmured to the Weasleys, “I’ll need you to hold this, for just a moment. Carewyn,” he added, as Charlie and Bill both grabbed the end of the makeshift rope and he let go, “I’m going to need you to step onto the wheel yourself and hold on.”

“What?” said Carewyn. “Orion, you can’t lift both me and the wheel -- it’s far too much! I’ll climb up and out myself -- ”

“Not to worry, my lady -- none of us will be doing the lifting,” said Orion serenely.

He led both his black horse and Bill’s chestnut horse over by their reins, and -- taking the makeshift rope from Bill and Charlie again -- he looped the end under the straps of both his and Bill’s saddles. He gave several tugs at all of the connections to make sure they were tight and secure before mounting his horse.

“Sir Weasley, if you would assist me.”

Catching onto Orion’s idea at last, Bill rushed forward so he could jump up onto his own horse.

“Mr. Weasley, you may want to have your hands ready to help Carewyn climb out when she gets close to the top,” said Orion over his shoulder. “Sir Weasley, together now.”

With a lot of effort and strain, the two horses were able to lift Carewyn and the broken wheel up and out of the ravine. Once Carewyn was out, all three men averted their eyes so she could put her dress back on. Once she was suitably redressed in her orange-and-beige dress, snood, and dark scarlet wool jacket, she, Bill, and Orion helped Charlie secure some makeshift posts he’d carved out of some nearby tree branches under the broken coach so that their four horses could lift it up off the ground and help support it without its second back wheel. Then the four hobbled the coach up the mountain the rest of the way to the Weasley family cottage.

The home of the Weasley family, affectionately nicknamed “the Burrow,” was built up against the side of a hill. Attached to the house was a large farm with sprawling pastures and short, rustic wooden fences. Its roof had clearly been patched up multiple times over the years with whatever kind of wood was on hand, making it resemble a patchwork quilt.

When the group arrived, Bill and Charlie’s youngest sibling and only sister Ginny immediately ran out to greet them -- she’d seen them coming up over the horizon and was beyond thrilled to see that it was her eldest brothers. Bill and Charlie’s teenage brothers Percy, Fred, George, and Ron soon followed along after. Fred and George -- who were identical twins -- were quick to crow that Charlie had brought them an early birthday present (namely, the coach), and Percy scolded them that clearly it was for work and they should let it alone. Orion and Carewyn ended up staying back at a distance, both faintly baffled by the amount of warmth and noise emanating from the seven siblings as they chattered amongst themselves, constantly stepping on each other’s feet and interrupting what everyone else was saying. Neither of them had ever encountered a family quite like this before. When Bill and Charlie’s parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley, emerged from the house, however, Molly very quickly bustled every last one of them inside, including Orion and Carewyn.

“In you go, the lot of you,” she said in a forceful, but very warm tone of voice. “You all look like you need some supper-- ”

“Oh -- no, Mrs. Weasley,” said Carewyn very quickly, “I couldn’t impose -- ”

“Nonsense, dear!” said Molly, as she took Carewyn’s hands and led her inside. “Why, you’re positively freezing! To think, you came all the way out here without a proper muff for your hands...”

“I had to help Charlie with the carriage,” Carewyn said, her eyes drawn away awkwardly rather than looking at Molly, “I couldn’t hope to have my hands free, using a muff...”

“Then both of you should come inside and get warm,” said Arthur, startling Orion with an amiable clap on the back. “Any friend of Bill and Charlie’s is a friend of our family.”

Carewyn had never been the subject of such coddling and generosity before in her life. Her mother had always taught her to treat people with respect and compassion, of course, but she had been a soft-spoken and understated person, and their family life had always been very quiet. And of course at the Cromwell estate, it had been less modest and quiet, but far less affectionate as well. Never had she ever visited such a loud, crowded, and faintly uncomfortable place that still nonetheless felt like a home, full of warmth and love.

Even Orion found himself feeling a bit unsettled by the Weasley family’s overwhelming hospitality. He’d been in plenty of unruly, crowded, and loud settings like this before -- but none of them had ever been quite this...well, jovial. It made it so that Orion yearned for peace, quiet, and returned distance, and yet also couldn’t help but marvel at the positive vibes that rippled off of this family and how much they could give, despite clearly having so little. When dinner was served, Orion had to politely decline a bowl of beef stew because he didn’t eat meat, and Molly Weasley immediately handed the bowl off to Ron so she could set about making Orion his own plate, piled high with cheesy mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, and roasted cauliflower seasoned with garlic and chives.

The Weasley family and their guests sat in an uncomfortable, messy half-circle around the large brick fireplace, laughing and talking as they ate. After supper came the dessert of hot, fresh apple dumplings, and after dessert came some hot tea and scones. After all, said Molly Weasley, having guests over was a rare treat, so they were going to celebrate appropriately. Neither Carewyn nor Orion could remember ever having felt so full in all their lives.

As everyone enjoyed their scones and tea, stories and songs were swapped around the fire. At one point in the evening, twelve-year-old Ginny -- who was perfectly thrilled to have another girl around, for a change -- begged Carewyn to sing for them. Apparently Bill had told his family all about her lovely voice. So, with some encouragement from Charlie, Arthur, and Molly, Carewyn bit back a broad, amused grin, took a deep breath, and started to sing.

“Mother cannot guide you...now you’re on your own.

Only me beside you -- still, you’re not alone...”

Orion had thought to himself that Carewyn must have done the song from his youth proper justice while singing for the Prince, but hearing her sing it in person, seeing her smile at him and her eyes sparkle as she did so...it was a completely different matter. As before, Orion felt all of the tension in his shoulders ebb off of him, as easily as dirt was washed away in warm water. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, tilting his head a bit so that he could hear her better, as his breathing and heart rate slowed. Even with his eyes closed, he could hear a smile in every word Carewyn sang...even when she likely wasn’t smiling at all, he thought. How could she be smiling, when lines like “sometimes people leave you half-way through the wood” and “people make mistakes -- fathers, mothers” rang with such emotion and pain? Was that pain visible on her face? Orion thought not, given Carewyn’s sense of grace and composure...but he heard it, all the same. He felt it -- her heart, aching with a kind of deep, blazing empathy Orion had never encountered in anyone else before.

When Carewyn came to the end of the song, Orion opened his eyes at last. The Weasleys all clapped, delighted, but he barely heard them as he turned to Carewyn.

“...That was remarkable,” he murmured.

Carewyn smiled. “I’m glad you think I did it justice.”

“Mm,” said Orion. “I’ve...never heard anyone drown like that, before.”

Carewyn couldn’t bite back a laugh. “Perhaps I didn’t do it justice then, if I sounded like I was drowning...”

“You were drowning in the words’ meaning,” corrected Orion. “Enveloping and submerging yourself in them -- allowing them to pull you in and take your breath away.”

He smiled, his black eyes very soft upon Carewyn’s face.

“It was...very moving.”

Molly’s face spread into an indulgent smile as she reached forward and patted Carewyn’s hand. “It was absolutely beautiful, dear.”

“Orion’s right, Carewyn,” agreed Arthur. “Your feelings really came through. I could tell the words mean something to you.”

Carewyn offered a polite smile, even as her eyes drifted away. “...I suppose they do.”

“It sounds like a lullaby, sort of,” mused Ron. “Even if it talks about your mother not being around.”

Ginny tilted her head toward Carewyn, Ron’s words prompting concern.

“...Do you not have a mother, Carewyn?”

The rest of the family went very quiet -- some like Percy shot Ginny warning looks, while others like Molly and Ron couldn’t help but glance at Carewyn in similar concern.

Carewyn’s gaze had drifted off onto the fire. Although she was turned away and her face was stoic, however, Orion could see her eyes rippling like turbulent ocean water, before she closed them solemnly.

“...I had one,” she answered softly at last. “She died when I was twelve.”

“Was she sick?” asked Ron, very hesitantly.

Carewyn bowed her head and gave a single, silent nod. Everyone in the room knew what that meant. The Plague had swept through both Royaume and Florence several times, over the span of the War -- one of the worst years was about nine years ago now...probably the same year Carewyn had lost her mother.

Orion’s black eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon her face. Molly looked like she wanted to envelop Carewyn in the biggest hug and was only holding back the urge because of her husband’s tight, reassuring squeeze to her hand.

“Oh, you poor dear,” she murmured.

Carewyn raised her head at last, her expression once again touched by a small, resilient, pretty smile.

“It’s all right,” she said gently, her eyes only briefly grazing each of the Weasleys’ faces. “I’ll always miss my mother...but I’m getting along all right. And I still have Jacob.”

“Your brother?” asked Percy, and Carewyn nodded.

“He left for War the same day he and I moved in with our grandfather,” Carewyn explained.

“Your brother must be quite a bit older than you, then,” said Orion.

Carewyn glanced at Orion out the side of her eye, smiling slightly. “Nine years older, yes. You know...you actually remind me of him, a bit.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Carewyn was forced to stifle a giggle behind her hand. “Jacob is also the sort to do things in his own clever way. Only he’s a lot more aggressive than you -- and more talkative, and arrogant, and overprotective...”

“And uglier,” inserted Fred.

“And smellier,” added George.

“With a long crooked nose and ears like a bat’s.”

The younger Weasley siblings were all laughing now. Carewyn had to cover her mouth to stifle her giggling.

“No!” she choked. “I don’t mean it like that! He’s wonderful, really. He’s just...well, an absolute idiot about how to interact with other people. He’s completely brilliant, mind you -- he could give you whole lectures about anything from geography to mathematics to physics...but coming up with spontaneous gifts for no occasion at all, just based on someone’s interests? He’d need some prodding, to do something like that.”

She smiled at Orion, who couldn’t help but grin fully in return.

“It was truly nothing at all, Carewyn,” he said. “With your love of music, it felt like that song would be something you would appreciate.”

Arthur glanced at Orion curiously. “Where is that song from, Orion? I’ve never heard it before.”

“I learned it as a boy,” Orion answered. “I would hear it sung outside the window of the workhouse, sometimes.”

Molly looked very troubled. “Workhouse? Orion dear, you don’t mean to say you grew up in one of those terrible places?”

Orion felt Carewyn’s gaze on him. When he looked back at her, her almond-shaped blue eyes were rippling with concern as well, though much gentler and more empathetic than Molly’s. He tried to offer her a smile.

“Let’s just say the words spoke to me as well, at the time,” he said lightly. “Not just to me, either...all of the boys there, one way or another, were where they were because of other people’s ‘terrible mistakes.’”

Orion’s gaze drifted down to his own hands as he lightly clasped them in his lap.

“...The War doesn’t touch you the same way here, but...the closer you are to Florence...the more the reality of it hits you in the face, every day. Even when you’re not on the battlefield itself -- even when you’re just at the border -- you, and the ones you care for, run the risk of getting caught in the crossfire. And on the border of Florence and Royaume...in those towns where it’s hard to tell where one country starts and another begins...tensions are like gunpowder. One spark from the tiniest match can set it ablaze -- can make everything implode, and force you to start all over again.”

His face was unreadable, but his black eyes were endless, rippling with the recollection of the fire and smoke -- the red and blue colors of Royaume, on the saddles of horses -- the life leaving his mother’s eyes -- his own heavy, terrified hyperventilating...

He closed his eyes and took several very deep, measured breaths before continuing.

“In such a place...one can find people desperate enough to want to lash out at others, to avenge their pain,” said Orion solemnly. “But there was one sweet old woman who owned a flower and herb shop near the workhouse. She’d had to rebuild her establishment several times over the years, and from what I understand, she finally had to leave town not long after I did...but every time she caught wind that the army was coming to town, looking for new recruits...she’d sing the song just loudly enough that we boys could hear it through our window.”

He absently played with the crudely carved circular charm on the cord around his neck in one hand.

“And although there were those who still enlisted afterwards...many others did not.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened.

“‘While we’re seeing our side,’ ” she sang again, more softly, “‘maybe we forgot...they are not alone. No one is alone.’ ”

Orion’s lips spread into a smile as he looked at Carewyn, his black eyes rippling gently as he nodded.

“So it’s against the War, then,” murmured Charlie. He glanced at his parents, who both looked concerned.

“Did that woman with the flower shop give you that?” asked Ginny curiously, indicating the charm around Orion’s neck.

“Yes,” said Orion. “She gave it to me one night when I tried to run away, to soothe my nerves. Its effects wore off by the next morning, but I’ve never really had the heart to throw it out.”

Percy sputtered, looking very pale. “Th-then she was a witch?”

“Whoa,” said Fred and George, looking almost too eager.

“Did she turn all the army into pigs?” asked George.

“Did she lure you in and try to cook you in a soup?” said Fred.

Orion smiled indulgently. “Of course not -- ”

“Well, thank Heavens for that!” said Molly, shooting the twins a very reproachful look. “Magic isn’t something to make fun of, you two -- it’s frankly a wonder you weren’t hurt, dear...”

Orion frowned. “There was no danger, Madam Weasley, I assure you.”

“No danger! Orion,” Molly scolded him indulgently, “I applaud your courage...but nature has its own way of things, and any magic that twists it out of shape is more dangerous than it’s worth.”

To the Weasley family’s surprise, Carewyn actually spoke up.

“Mrs. Weasley, men tend fields, plant seeds, domesticate horses and dogs...treat illnesses and injuries...cut hair and wear makeup and put on heeled shoes to make ourselves appear taller. Would that not also be twisting nature’s intent?”

Molly actually faltered somewhat. “Well, yes, but...that’s very different from magic, Carewyn! Magic is...well, it’s wild. Uncontrollable.”

“It’s untamed chaos,” said Arthur more levelly than his wife. “A kind that’s done a lot more harm than good.”

“But it still can be used for good,” said Carewyn very firmly. “And if it has that potential, why must we treat it as though it and all of its users are inherently reprehensible? If magic can be used to save lives, or heal the sick, or even just calm a scared boy down after something horrible...”

She glanced at Orion out the side of her eye.

“...Then it seems to be like any other weapon or tool, or even any other person -- something that could protect or hurt.”

Orion felt like his heart was being flooded with warmth, and his entire expression melted with pride and something like affection as he stared at Carewyn.

She truly is a woman to be admired. The memory of Skye’s irritation and McNully’s warning rippled over Orion’s mind and he found himself faltering. Admire...yes. Anyone could grow to admire such a woman, couldn’t they? To respect and esteem her...to...grow an attachment, to her... Even I? Could I...?

The Weasleys exchanged uncertain looks amongst themselves.

“Come to think of it,” said Ron thoughtfully, “wasn’t there that old myth about fairy godmothers who grant you wishes?”

Fred brought an arm roughly around his younger brother’s neck and put him in a rough choke hold. “Aww, ickle Ronnie wanting a pwetty new dress?”

“‘Oh fairy godmother, I just gotta have a new dress for the Winter Festival!’” said George in a high-pitched squeal.

“Geroff!” growled Ron, as he pulled free.

“Oh, but that would be fun!” sighed Ginny. “Dancing at the Winter Festival, in the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen...you’re going to the Festival, aren’t you, Carewyn?”

“Probably not, Ginny,” said Carewyn gently, “I’ve got so much work to do...”

“Oh, but you have to!” whined Ginny. “The Festival’s tradition! Right, Orion?”

“So I’ve heard,” Orion said modestly, “but I’m afraid I’ve never attended a Winter Festival either.”

“What?!” said all of the Weasley children except Bill in thoroughly aghast unison.

“It’s the biggest celebration of the entire year -- ”

“Everybody in town will be there -- ”

“ -- well, aside from the noble tarts -- ”

“ -- but hey, who needs them?”

“Everybody makes the best mince pies and hot apple cider -- ”

“There’s dancing and singing and games and gift-giving -- ”

“You just can’t miss it -- ”

Before long, they’d completely gotten off the topic of magic all together, so the Weasleys could tell Orion all about the Winter Festival. Carewyn took the opportunity to start carrying dishes into the kitchen so that she could help Molly clean up. While she did so, Bill pulled her aside.

“Carewyn...can I talk to you? Alone?”

Carewyn blinked, but nonetheless put down the dishes she was carrying and followed Bill off into a secluded corner.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in concern.

Bill bit the inside of his lip, his brown eyes drifting over in the direction of the fireplace where the rest of his family was sitting with Orion.

“Carewyn,” he said slowly, “who is that man, really?”

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit together. Bill ran a hand over the undone collar of his tunic absently.

“He’s hiding something, I know it. And I’m sure you see it too. He dodges questions he doesn’t want to answer, and as much as he’s even told us tonight about himself, he never gives important details. He lived near the border, but he didn’t mention what town he’s from. He lived in a workhouse, presumably after losing his parents, but he never said what he lost them to.”

“Those things might not be easy for him to talk about, Bill,” Carewyn said softly.

“Yes,” said Bill in a bracing voice, “but he also hopped the walls of the palace, completely ignorant of how tight royal security is and why, has enough time to chase after you most every day, and gets paints from people he can’t identify and learns songs from people who, from the sound of things, practice witchcraft.”

Bill crossed his arms. He clearly was trying to be considerate to Carewyn’s feelings, but couldn’t hold back his concerns.

“Look, I...I understand you like the man. And I understand why -- Ginny and the others seem to have taken to him pretty well, too. But there’s no reason for someone to hold back that many secrets, unless they’re up to no good. He could be a cad, or a criminal, or maybe even something worse. Judging by his stance on magic, he could even be a magician himself...”

His brown eyes narrowed slightly upon Carewyn’s face.

“I’m just...worried about you, that’s all,” he said lowly.

Carewyn considered Bill for a long moment. Then, reaching out a hand, she gently took hold of Bill’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Bill...I understand how you feel. And I’m grateful, truly grateful, for your caring. I hardly deserve it, and it...it means a lot to me.”

Bill frowned deeply, ready to say something, but Carewyn cut him off.

“But believe me when I say that people don’t just keep secrets because they mean to do harm. Sometimes -- for some people -- they’ve had to learn to hide themselves and shield their hearts...so much so that even when they encounter good people, it’s hard for them to let their guard down. Sometimes they’ve known so much pain that, even though they’re kind people, they’ve numbed themselves to a degree, just to protect themselves. Lied so much...that it becomes second-nature. Or worse, lie because they don’t know who they can really trust...because so many people have hurt them that they don’t know what trust even feels like anymore.”

Bill’s expression lost some of its edge, though it still looked wary.

“...And if he is a magic user?”

“Then he’s one of the good ones,” said Carewyn firmly.

Bill still looked a bit unsure. Carewyn squeezed his shoulder a bit more tightly, her eyes resting there instead of on his face.

“Bill, my brother is only alive, thanks to magic.”

Bill was startled.

“The Plague swept through our whole house,” said Carewyn lowly. “First the landlord and his family -- then my mother...and then Jacob. We were living hand-to-mouth, and I didn’t have anyone else to go to...so I went to the Cromwell estate.”

Bill’s brown eyes became a little smaller, darkening with grim understanding.

“...You went to your grandfather.”

Carewyn nodded. “He disowned Mum long ago, but he was still our family, so I thought he might be willing to help us. He agreed to take Jacob and me in and nurse Jacob back to health, so long as we paid back his generosity. Grandfather then tracked down a witch who could cast a spell to save Jacob’s life.”

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed. “Lord Cromwell hired a -- ?”

“Do not repeat this, Bill!” Carewyn said very sharply and urgently. “To anyone, do you understand? No one.”

Her eyes then softened visibly, becoming grimmer and sadder.

“Jacob was dying. There was no other option.”

Bill looked like he was in pain, just hearing this second-hand. He swallowed, and then gave a nod.

“So that witch saved your brother’s life,” he said quietly.

Carewyn nodded, her eyes full of emotion despite the stoicism of her features.

“The spell she cast bound Jacob’s life to Grandfather’s will. Jacob was brought into the house on a stretcher just after dawn, and within a half-hour...he was up on his own two feet again.”

Carewyn closed her eyes. She could still remember Jacob’s blazing, relieved smile as he barreled down the stairs and threw his arms around her, cradling her like a baby.

“My Wyn -- my sweet Wyn -- ”

Not long after that, though...Jacob’s arms were yanked away -- all of him was yanked away -- held back by Blaise and Claire and Pearl’s husbands, who all had work to together just to restrain Jacob as he fought to reach her, screaming and raging like a mad man --

“WYN! NO! GET OFF OF ME -- WYN! I WON’T LET YOU -- CAREWYN!”

Carewyn opened her eyes, the soft longing fading from her face completely and leaving a much more stony expression behind.

Bill himself, however, looked more troubled than ever.

“You said your brother left for War the same day you and he arrived at the Cromwell estate,” he whispered shakily. “Do you mean that, right after saving your brother’s life...Lord Cromwell immediately sent him off to War -- all while knowing how few men return home alive?”

Carewyn’s lips came together tightly.

“Grandfather sent him to the front, so that Jacob could start paying back the debt I owed him,” she said, her voice very soft and oddly distant. “After all...a man who wouldn’t die, so long as he willed it...would make an excellent soldier.”

Bill looked horrified.

“Then...” he whispered, “...then Jacob’s only alive because your grandfather decides whether he lives or dies? You only know your brother’s still alive after so many years at war...because Lord Cromwell is bound to him through magic, and he’s holding his life over your head?”

Carewyn withdrew her hand from Bill’s shoulder and turned away.

“Carewyn...that’s monstrous!” said Bill, and he was unable to keep his voice from rising. “I didn’t even know magic could do something like that -- but -- but that’s nothing, compared to...”

He couldn’t restrain himself. He actually threw an arm around Carewyn and pulled her into a hug from behind. The small ginger-haired woman stiffened like a startled cat.

“Bill?”

Carewyn looked up at him -- were those tears, in his eyes?

“Have you...never told anyone else, about this?” Bill murmured.

Carewyn tried to turn around, her blue eyes welling up with regret and pain. “Bill...”

She brought a hand through his hair, trying to soothe him the way she used to for Jacob.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I -- I didn’t mean to upset you -- I only wanted to explain why I’m not scared of magic...please forgive me.”

Bill closed his eyes to try to hold back both his righteous anger and his tears.

“Forgive you?” he repeated in a choked voice. “For what, trusting me with the truth?”

“For making you worry unnecessarily,” Carewyn said forcefully, trying to ignore how uncomfortably her stomach was squirming.

Bill opened his eyes, looking both flabbergasted and more upset than ever. “Unnecessarily?”

He roughly grabbed both of Carewyn’s shoulders and forced her to look up at him.

“Now you listen here, Carewyn Cromwell,” he said, taking on the sort of tone he only ever used with his younger siblings when they were being rowdy, “you may get to decide if you want to interact with me or not, or rely on me or not, or accept my help or not. But you don’t get to decide whether I worry about you or not. And from here on out...”

Bill’s brown eyes were blazing with resolve.

“...I’m going to worry about you. Because I hate the thought of someone feeling like anybody else worrying about them is somehow a problem.”

Carewyn was left speechless.

Bill’s face broke into a broad smile through his tears. “Until your brother’s back from the War, Carey, I’ll be looking after you for him -- no arguments, no dismissals, no saying you’re fine on your own. Got it?”

Carewyn looked at Bill, perfectly stunned. Then her gaze fell away toward the floor.

“...It sounds like...I really don’t get a choice in the matter, then,” she whispered.

“Nope,” said Bill, grinning broadly.

Carewyn was unable to fight back the weak smile prickling at the sides of her lips, nor the emotion flooding her eyes, even as she kept her face turned away.

“...And I suppose ‘Carey’...is a suggestion of a nickname you plan to give Charlie, for me?”

Bill’s eyes sparkled fondly. “Well, every one of my siblings has a nickname, in case you haven’t noticed.”

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Seven: Spencerspective

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 2,512

MASTERLIST

~

Spencer didn’t fall asleep for hours. He tried not to keep watching the door, but keeping Y/N safe was more important than rest.

If you're exhausted tomorrow how are you supposed to protect her?

Finally, with that thought in his mind, he let himself succumb to slumber, which was surprisingly easy with Y/N cuddled against him.

After a night of horrible dreams and tossing and turning, he woke up to the wonderful smell of shampoo and flowers. Following his nose and breathing deeply, eyes still closed, he found himself suddenly with a face full of hair.

Spencer yanked back, eyes blowing open.

No. No. No.

It all came back in a rush. She’d gotten closer to him, holding him tighter than anyone had in a long time. And he hadn’t resisted. He’d given in to her so quickly.

It wasn’t like he didn’t like her. He did. Too much. His job was to protect her, not fall in . . . fall for her. Plus, it was taking advantage. She was only getting close to him because he was protecting her. It was a whole reverse Florence Nightingale situation. If they’d met anywhere else, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance.

But now, with her back pressed up against him — a little too much — how could he resist.

He had to. He couldn’t hurt her like that. He was just going to slip out of bed and go back to the floor. Without waking her up. Easy.

“Mm,” she moaned, stretching her spine and snuggling against him tighter.

Oh no. There was no way he could sneak away with one of his arms under her head and the other wrapped tightly around her waist. Not without waking her up.

How had he even gotten into this position? Looking back, it was his fault for pointing out just how large her bed truly was.

Wiggling a bit, she pulled a pillow closer, pushing herself even closer to him.

Now another problem was . . . rising. Literally.

It was a no-win situation. He could slip out of bed, almost definitely waking her up resulting in a potentially huge misunderstanding. Or, she’d wake up before he could leave the bed and certainly feel his. . . .

He had to get up.

As gently as he could, he removed his hand from her waist and slipped the other one out from under her head, placing it softly back on the pillow.

Her whimper at the loss of his warmth was like a dagger through the heart. More than anything, he wished he could jump back in bed with her and comfort her, holding her how he’d wanted to last night. How he’d found himself holding her this morning.

Why are you so crazy for this girl?! You barely know her!

“Spencer?” even with hours of sleep, her voice was still so melodic. If he weren’t so cold without her against him, he would have melted.

“Hey,” he said softly — too softly, get it together, Spencer!

“Is everything okay?” she rubbed her eyes sleepily, adorably. 

“Yeah, yeah, I just, um, had to go to the bathroom. I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“What time is it?”

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Nearly 1:30.”

“PM?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus.”

She sat up and blinked, looking at the space on the bed where Spencer had been. 

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him.

“What do you want to do today?” He tried to say it casually like he cared more about what they’d do rather than what she wanted to do. It was unclear if that had come across.

“I don’t know,” she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “I kinda wanna go out?”

Spencer froze.

“Go out? Like on a . . .” he trailed off.

“Like a date,” she mumbled, then, quickly: “As a cover, of course. I just think it might be a good distraction.”

But Spencer was already shaking his head fervently.

“It’s too dangerous. In fact, nightclubs are responsible for about 60 percent of rapes and 20 percent of murders. It’s the perfect place to commit most crimes. No one is paying any attention and—“

“Spencer!” she interrupted, “I didn’t mean a nightclub. I mean, seeing you dance sounds amazing but that’s not really my scene. What about like a restaurant?”

“A restaurant?”

He considered it. Respectable restaurants had professional waiters, unlike nightclubs; better security; and, best of all, they were more spaced out, meaning less opportunity for a stranger to get close. He’d have to be on high alert, though.

“I know a great place nearby,” she spoke up, breaking his train of thought. 

“I don’t know. . . .” he said, still wary.

“It’s walking distance.”

His mistake was meeting her eyes. She looked so hopeful, so helpless. Oh god, there was a hint of puppy dog eyes. How could he resist?

Seriously, how?

“Okay,” he said, giving in as she let out a little squeak of happiness, heart warming at the sound. “But at the slightest danger, we leave.”

“Yes! Of course!”

“And no alcohol.”

She hesitated for a split second, then sighed.

“Yes, okay.”

“And no dancing,” he added, sliding into the bathroom, leaving the door partially open.

“WHAT!?”

~

“Hey, it’s almost seven.”

Spencer and Y/N had been slumped on the couch for hours watching old episodes of Doctor Who and arguing about the science of time travel.

“Time doesn’t work that way! It’s like a line.”

“But what if you went back and changed something?”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that because it would have already happened. Like if you in the future traveled to right now, it would happen right now, but since you didn’t just now, then it doesn’t happen in the future. It’s the rules of physics.”

She’d scoffed at that.

“Maybe time doesn’t follow the rules of physics.”

“Okay, speaking as a certified genius with a Ph.D. in Chemistry, you are on dangerous grounds.”

And then she’d thrown a pillow at him, the both of them descending into giggles.

Spencer had almost forgotten why he was there. Why he was really there.

“Oh, yeah. Should we go?”

Y/N laughed derisively, gesturing to her t-shirt and pajama shorts.

“Not like this. Gimme fifteen minutes.”

She jumped up and ran to her bedroom, closing the door.

“Door open!” Spencer reminded her.

She stuck her head out and blew a raspberry but she did leave the door slightly ajar. Not enough that he could see what she was doing, just enough to know that she was safe.

Meanwhile, he rummaged through his bags, trying to find something appropriate to wear. Everything he had was either too casual or way too casual.

Finally settling on a cornflower blue dress shirt, a grey sweater to wear over it, dark slacks, and a jet black tie, he stood, waiting by the door and fidgeting with his sweater so it covered his revolver. He knew it made her nervous and didn’t want to put any stress on her that could be avoided.

The door to her room opened and Spencer’s head shot up. His jaw practically dropped.

Sure, her outfit was dazzling, small sparkly black heels, a short swishy blue dress that was both casual and classy (and happened to match his shirt), and long dangly earrings with little clocks on the ends, but what really got him was the way she was looking at him. Expectantly, patiently.

He realized she was waiting for him to say something.

“You look . . .” he tried so hard to think of a compliment that expressed his awe while remaining professional. “Stunning.”

A smile lit up her face and Spencer’s heart soared.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, adjusting his tie.

The contact made him jump.

“Ahem, shall we?” he opened the door and held out his elbow for her to take.

“We shall.”

So she took his arm and they set off into the night, locking the door securely behind them.

An hour later, they walked up outside a small bistro, Spencer slightly out of breath.

“When you said walking distance. . . .”

“Three miles is walking distance!” she said defensively.

“For superman!”

“Oh come on! You’re in the FBI, I'm sure you do your fair share of chasing bad guys.”

“I’m an FBI profiler. And while I do enjoy the occasional walk through the park, exercise isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he explained, gesturing to his lanky body.

“Suppose not. Then again, I saw the way you ran after that blue car. I know you’ve got some hidden muscles under all that . . . dork.”

He feigned offense at her remark.

“Pardon me, ma’am, I am a nerd. Very big difference.”

“Mm-hmm. Something only a dork would know,” she laughed, booping his nose and walking into the restaurant, Spencer taking a moment to be shocked before following her.

They got a nice table by the window at her request. It seemed she knew the waiter, calling him by his name and exchanging a brief greeting, introducing Spencer as Doctor Reid.

“Have you been here a lot?”

“No, never, but the waiter here, Tom, works at my regular coffee shop. Barista by day, waiter by night.”

Spencer laughed softly.

Okay, so she’s never been here before, meaning she’s never been here before with a guy, meaning she wanted to take you somewhere special. Meaning she likes y—

“Stop it!” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth. 

“Hmm?”

Spencer blushed.

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering about what to order. I don’t really go to a lot of restaurants, to be honest.”

“Me either,” she smiled softly at him and Spencer found himself smiling back.

“Ready to order, Doctor Reid?” The waiter said, smiling.

“Ladies first,” Spencer said, relishing in the way Y/N smiled at him. This would be a long night.

~

“ . . . and the whole point of his writing is to experience a whole new idea of life!”

“Did you even read Walden?”

After the food came, a chicken empanada for Spencer and a bowl of pasta for Y/N, the conversation had somehow shifted to a heated discussion of what Henry David Thoreau’s ideals were.

“I’ve read . . . parts.” 

Spencer gave her a doubtful look and she sighed.

“I’ve read the Sparknotes.”

“Exactly! His point is to go live in the forest to achieve inner peace. The problem is, as humans, we need society and interactions with others in order to function. I actually had a coworker who had a cabin in the woods and he never mentioned becoming one with nature.”

“Well, maybe he just picked the wrong forest. Like, I couldn’t relax in the Forbidden Forest. It’s all about location.”

“Forbidden Forest?”

“Like from Harry Potter.”

Spencer glanced away.

“You’ve never read Harry Potter?” she said incredulously.

“Nope,” he blushed. “I’ve always preferred—“

“Oh god, please don’t say Twilight.”

“Nooo,” Spencer chuckled, “I was gonna say I prefer Doyle’s works.”

“Oh, I love Doyle!” she said happily. “Everybody always talks about Sherlock Holmes but have you read The Narrative of John Smith? It’s definitely some of his best work.”

Spencer’s mind went haywire. She had brought up his favorite book of all time in casual conversation. Who was this girl?

“Spencer?”

He snapped out of his daydream and looked at the woman in front of him. She was working on two doctorates, she loved Doyle and Doctor Who, she owned a goddamn bookstore, and she walked almost everywhere. How was he not supposed to fall for her? 

“Spencer?”

“Yes, yeah, sorry.”

The waiter came up and placed the check next to him.

“For the gentleman.” 

Avoiding eye-contact, Spencer took out his wallet to pay.

“Hey!” she swatted his hands away, making him drop his wallet into his lap. “We‘re not leaving yet! What’s the rush?”

This relaxed him a little. His nerves were starting to get to him. C’mon, Spencer, you’re a professional. Get it together.

“There’s no rush!” he quickly recovered. “I was simply checking to see if I had the adequate resources for the evening,” he smiled widely, waggling his eyebrows. But she had frozen, a shocked expression on her face.

“What?” she breathed.

Spencer cocked his head, not understanding her confusion. He was clearly reaching into his wallet for a surprise. What other resources did people keep in their walle—

Then it hit him.

“Oh! Oh, no I meant. . .” he fumbled with his wallet, trying desperately to pull out—

“This!” a shiny golden key. “I, uh, have a surprise planned.” It was extremely hard not to blush, and he was even less sure he was succeeding.

But, upon seeing her face contort into one of excitement, he was reassured.

“Okay! What are you waiting for? Let’s go now!”

And she jumped up, leaving the appropriate change in the check.

“C’mon!” Spencer was about to protest her paying, but she was grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his seat, out of the restaurant.

“Hey, I’m supposed to be surprising you, here!” he protested, stopping her just outside the door.

“Fine, lead the way, Doctor,” she giggled, bowing deeply.

Spencer curtseyed and walked off in the direction they had come, his woman on his arm.

A woman, he corrected himself. Not his.

“So,” Y/N said after a while of walking, “Where are you taking me?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Ha. You know, statistically, around eighty percent of people who say that, secretly love them.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she spun around and started to walk backward, maintaining eye contact, “but I’m not exactly a person that most statistics apply to.”

“So you don’t like surprises?”

She frowned.

“Touché.”

Spencer laughed as she spun back around, walking next to him. Their footsteps became a rhythm and they stayed silent for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.

Then, Y/N’s footsteps started to falter, breaking the pattern.

“You ok?” Spencer knew that people favoring the balls of their feet while walking was a sign of anxiety.

Rather than answer verbally, she yanked him down a dark alleyway, pushing against him.

“Y/N?”

She was holding him against her, her own back to the brick wall.

“I’m sorry, Spencer, this isn’t how I wanted it.”

“What are you sor—Mmf—“

A hand snaked around his tie and pulled him down sharply. Their lips met in an instant.

He should have pulled away. He should have stayed professional. He should have done anything but what he did.

Hands flying to the side of her face, he pulled her closer, coaxing open her mouth and moaning softly into it, feeling her hands travel down his waist, running along his belt.

Her lips were so soft. He’d wanted this so bad. And now that she was against him, lips against his, he realized how much he’d needed it. It wasn’t fair to her. He’d deal with that later.

But before he could process anything else, a sudden weight left his hips, her lips left his, and the unmistakable noise of a gunshot rang through the air behind him.

~

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