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fandom-alley · 2 years ago

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Rekindling at the Spa

18+

Summary: Spencer has an evening at the spa as per his doctors orders, and meets up with a girl he met at Penelope's over a year ago. This time he convinces himself not to leave without getting her phone number, but he ends up getting a little bit more.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Category: Fluff, smut (like hardly though)

Warnings: 18+, kissing, making out, semi-public (no ones around) grinding, coming untouched/in pants

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: inspired by my recent trip to the spa where i realized just how single i am. this is my first time writing something spicier than making out, so it's not a lot and just at the end, go easy on me lol

Also on AO3

The last thing Spencer Reid wanted to do was spend his evening at the hydrotherapy spa. Germs from the water of hot tubs could make you sick if consumed, and so could the vapour that comes off the water. Not to mention the possibility of a rash due to the chemicals used. But it was his doctor's orders. Apparently his own doctoral status was not good enough to sway them to let him come back to work early and skip this step.

There were many steps he had to complete as part of his recovery process; resting his injured leg, physical therapy, changes to his diet, therapy for his mental health. And the dreaded ‘spa relaxation’.

Now, most doctors probably wouldn’t prescribe a day at the spa as something to do as part of recovery, but Spencer’s doctor knew him well. He knew that throughout the last month, even though Spencer had completed most of his steps, he wasn’t relaxing through any of it. And his doctor was correct. Spencer’s brain had been working double time, reading twice the amount of books he usually did in a day while he was immobile elevating his injured leg. Reading up on new techniques for profiling and offering tips to the BAU when they worked a local case.

His doctor could tell that his inability to relax his brain, therefore relaxing his body, was the last step in holding him back from complete recovery.

So here he was, entering a Nordic hydrotherapy spa, where he was not allowed to bring in any cell phones, tablets, or hold loud conversations with anyone. And while it was acceptable to bring books in to read, Spencer didn’t want to risk dropping one in the water and ruining it. So he was about to be forced to put his self meditation techniques to use.

After changing into his swim shorts, putting on the complimentary robe and locking away his belongings, Spencer stepped out of the main building into the frigid evening air. He breathed in the scent of salt, chlorine, and eucalyptus from the nearby steam room. Hidden speakers in the plant beds around the property played out relaxing spa style music. Spencer had to admit, despite his reservations regarding germs, he already did feel quite relaxed.

The steam coming off the hot pools seemed to blanket the grounds in silence. It wasn’t that busy, but Spencer spotted a few people relaxing in the pools and walking in-between sections of the spa grounds.

Upon his check in tonight, the kind lady at the front desk informed him how to use the spa for maximum relaxation and hydrotherapy benefits. She recommended he sit in a hot pool for 10 to 15 minutes, take a plunge in the cold pool for at least 15 seconds or as long as he could handle, and then relax in a sauna, steam room, or relaxation room before continuing the process a few times.

The property was large, with 4 different hot pools, 3 different cold plunge pools, 2 rooms for wood burning saunas, the eucalyptus steam room, and multiple chairs dotting the ground surrounding fireplaces where you could sit and relax. Without putting too much thought to it, Spencer hung up his robe near the closest hot pool and stepped into the burning water.

The change in temperature stung his cold toes as they started to warm up. The water was only up to his waist as he waded through past a few couples sitting to the sides. He made his way to the back of the pool where it was blissfully empty and took a seat. Since he was so tall sitting on the built in seats along the edge of the pool, the water only went up to mid chest. But the rest of his exposed skin felt refreshed with the cool air blowing over him. A good contrast to the hot water covering the rest of his body.

Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to shut his brain off. It worked for a few minutes, before he heard a couple a few feet over whispering sweet nothings to each other. It just made Spencer start thinking about his own lacklustre love life.

With his job in the BAU there wasn't that much opportunity and time for a relationship. Sure, some of his co-workers had figured it out. Like JJ and Will for instance. Spencer had seen how difficult it was for Morgan to hold down a relationship with their crazy work hours as well.

He hadn't really put that much effort into a relationship, though. Part of the reason was that he just didn't have the time. Some of the cases kept them away from home for weeks at a time. Sometimes to the point where he really didn't know how his friends and co-workers were able to keep it up. He was the type of guy who wanted to get to know someone, be around them lots in the early stages, and that was just too hard with work.

Spencer jolted out of his daydream when someone splashed into the seat next to him.

"Is this seat taken?" The voice belonged to a pretty girl, who if he had to guess was maybe just a few years younger than him. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't seem to place where he recognized her from. "You're Dr. Spencer Reid, right?" She asked.

"Yes, that's me," he replied with a furrowed brow, wracking his brain on why her big brown eyes looked like they knew him as well.

Thankfully she caught on to his confusion. "I'm y/n. Penelope's friend from book club. We met a year ago at her place when she had a viewing party for the season finale of Love Is Blind. I almost didn't go because I really don't watch reality TV, but I had just moved to the area and I wanted to try and make some friends."

Spencer remembered her now. Back then at the party she had her hair down in unruly curls and it was the colour of fire engine red. Now her hair was tied back to stay out of the water and it was the colour of midnight black. He wasn't one to forget a face, or forget much of anything really. But something about a dramatic change in hair colour and style had the Clark Kent effect on him. Maybe it was because he was in a pretty decent state of relaxation.

"I remember you," he said, nodding his head in recognition. "I also didn't want to go to that party but Penelope is hard to say no to."

Y/n laughed, "Yes she is, isn't she. It's good though. Because of her persistence I was able to make a few friends that night. And on multiple other nights as well. Penelope frequently tries to set me up on dates." She was talking pretty quietly as per spa rules, and it would have been hard to hear if she hadn't sat close and leaned in while she talked. Normally Spencer would have backed away, but something about her presence was soothing. Or maybe that was just the water jets from the pool shooting into his back.

"So what brings you to the spa tonight?" Spencer asked her. He might have met her back then at the party, but they hadn't said many words to each other. He remembered being slightly intimidated by her fiery hair and bubbly personality and after their initial introduction he snuck away with his glass of juice to browse Pen's book collection.

"Actually, it was a birthday gift from Penelope!" Y/n smiled.

"Oh, happy birthday." Spencer smiled back at her. Why was he intimidated back then, he thought to himself. She was so beautiful and so nice, and so far fairly easy to talk to, it seemed.

"Thank you. But it's actually not until next month. Penelope just told me this was the only night she could get a reservation and that when my actual birthday happened she would buy me a cake," y/n laughed.

Spencer pursed his lips in confusion. When he booked his reservation on his doctor's orders, there looked to have been multiple available times from now until the end of the year. The only day that was sold out was Thanksgiving weekend.

"When did she give you the gift with the reservation in it?" He asked y/n, with a hint of scepticism in his voice.

"About 3 days ago I think it was," she answered. About 3 days ago is when Spencer called up Penelope to rant to her about being forced to go to this spa. Was it possible Pen had given Y/n the gift as an excuse to try and set them up? Back at the party he had gotten the vibe when she introduced them that she wanted them to become friends. But Spencer had never gotten her number or email, and figured it just wasn't meant to be. Although how could it be, when he actively avoided her most of that night.

"What a coincidence that we're both here on the same night," Spencer told her.

"I know, right? I wasn't completely sure that you were you when I saw you sitting over here. But you're a hard one to forget, Dr. Reid," y/n said. Was that a blush he saw forming on her cheeks, or was she just getting too warm from the water.

"You can just call me Spencer. I really don't make anyone use doctor unless we're at work," he chuckled.

"Will do, Spencer. I hope you don't mind that I came over to sit with you. I can leave if you want the relaxation of being alone." She started to slide away from her seat slowly, giving him the opportunity to tell her she didn't need to leave. Which is exactly what he did.

"I don't mind. It's kind of nice to have company. I didn't realize how many people went to the spa with their partners," he told her.

"Well, perfect. We can experience this spa together then. So how come you didn't come here with your partner?" Y/n asked slyly. Spencer could feel his face heat up with the attention turned to himself.

"No partner. I actually had to come here by doctor's orders. I got shot in the leg last month, and as the last part of recovery my doctor wanted me to relax more and figured what better way to force me to relax than to send me to the spa.”

“Oh my gosh. I’m tempted to ask if you’re okay, but it seems like you are, since you’re sitting here. I had no idea your job could lead to such violence,” Y/n exclaimed.

“Every day is something different. They usually keep me off the field working from the office or police stations, but even then you never know what could happen,” Spencer explained.

“Wow. Okay, sorry. This is supposed to be relaxing and here I am bringing up work talk. What do you say we take a plunge into the cold?” Y/n asked with a grin.

This was probably the experience at the spa he was least likely to enjoy, but he followed her out of the water and next door to the cold pool. It was completely empty and Spencer was not surprised. Y/n grabbed his hand, sending a shock through his body, as they stood at the top of the stairs to the pool.

“It’s pretty likely that one of us is going to wimp out once our feet hit the water. So if need be, we have to drag the other person in, okay?” She said as she looked up at him. His voice got caught in his throat as he looked down at her and all he could do was nod in agreement.

With a deep breath in, together they stepped onto the first step. It was so cold Spencer felt like his toes would fall off in a second. However he didn’t even get a second thought to think about stepping back out before y/n fell forward into the water, pulling him with her. He had to grab onto her hips for stability so he didn’t end up falling on top of her in the 3 feet of water.

“It’s so cold,” Y/n gasped out.

It might have been 15 seconds, it might have been 5 minutes, but Spencer felt lost in time as he held Y/n in his arms in the freezing cold water. He didn’t even feel that cold in the places where Y/n’s skin touched his. Slowly, as if held down by some invisible force, he removed his hands from her hips and grabbed her hand this time to help her out of the water.

Feeling a new burst of energy from the cold shock, Spencer helped Y/n into her robe before putting on his, then wordlessly grabbed her hand and led her to one of the saunas. Inside, they were met with a blast of heat as Spencer guided Y/n to the back bench. Every seat in the sauna faced a wall made of glass that overlooked a small lake with a fountain cascading in the middle. As he relaxed into his seat, Y/n decided to lay out on the bench beside him and use his thigh as a head rest.

Neither of them said a word as they gazed out the window, watching the birds fly by and the ducks swim in the lake.

Spencer thought back to the night of Penelope’s party. After he had pushed himself to the wall to avoid interacting with people, he did end up watching from afar as Y/n made her way around talking to all the guests. He might have initially felt intimidated, but he was also fascinated with her. He’d seen a lot of different people with his job, and he’d seen people with colourfully dyed hair before as well, but something about her red curls just drew in his eyes and he couldn’t take them back.

She was beautiful, enchanting even, and he wanted to get her phone number. But then he had thought back to their last case. Where they had been gone for 16 days in a row. He had watched JJ as she video called Will and her kids any chance they got. Watched Hotch take numerous phone calls from his son. Even Morgan escaped for private chats with Savannah. He wasn’t sure if that was something he would be able to handle. So eventually he said goodnight to Penelope, left the party, and left any thoughts he had about Y/n behind as well.

Now that Penelope had schemingly gotten her back into his life, he was determined to make sure he got her number before leaving again.

Spencer and Y/n enjoyed the spa amenities for another couple hours, cycling through the recommended steps while chatting quietly or relaxing in silence. Despite not doing much, they started to feel tired from the heated pools and saunas before eventually agreeing to meet outside in the parking lot after they got changed so they could say a proper goodbye.

Spencer rushed through changing, not wanting to take too long in case Y/n decided she didn’t want to stay, and made it outside in record time. He stood off to the side at the parking lot entrance, waiting for her with his heart racing. It took her a little bit longer, but eventually he saw her walking down the path.

Her hair was down now, damp and a little frizzy from her curls trying to poke through. Wearing a simple black zip up sweater and black leggings, she looked cozy but also like she was about to rob a bank. She smiled at him when she reached his spot, taking his hand in hers to lead him to where she parked. The lot had almost emptied, leaving mostly staff vehicles and the last few remaining spa guests wanting to get every minute out of their visit as they could. Even with the empty lot, Y/n led Spencer to her car, a little black Honda, parked alone in the corner lit up only by the bright moon in the sky.

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you tonight, Spencer,” Y/n told him when they stopped beside her car. She didn’t move to unlock it, opting instead to stand there with her hand still clasped in his.

“Of course. It was really lovely to see you again, Y/n,” said Spencer. Okay, he thought to himself, now is the time to do it. Bite the bullet and ask for her number. “Would you, maybe, be willing to exchange numbers and we can plan to go out for coffee some time soon?”

Y/n broke into a smile. “I would love that,” she said before reciting her number. She knew he would remember it, if Penelope’s constant chatter about how amazing Spencer’s memory is was to be true.

“Awesome. So, I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Spencer moved to head back to his own vehicle but was stopped by a hand placed on the centre of his chest.

“Yeah. Or,” said Y/n, “Maybe we could do this?”

Before he could ask what ‘this�� was, she used the hand on his chest to push him back against the door of her car. Then she leaned in, rising up onto her toes to try and match his height, and placed her lips on his. It was quick, but enough to leave Spencer breathless, before she pulled away the slightest bit to look into his eyes.

“Is this okay?” she asked, and when he mumbled out a yes, nodding his head, she wasted no time going back in.

Their lips crashed together in an instant, almost too eager to finally be getting what they’ve both been craving all night. Y/n removed her hand from his chest to bring both of them into his hair, feeling the damp curls and giving them a little tug. Spencer brought his arms around her waist tightly, bringing her in closer to help relieve the strain of standing on her toes.

He couldn’t believe this was happening, and in a parking lot. But he wouldn’t change a thing. Y/n’s hands made their way down to the back of his neck, before she brought them to his jaw. He let out a groan when she pulled on his bottom lip with her teeth, before their tongues collided with one another.

Spencer brought his hands down even further, to grip the soft area at the back of her thigh just underneath her butt. He used his new grip to pull her up higher, spinning them around so that it was her back pressed against the car this time. She wrapped her legs around him to hold on as Spencer moved one of his hands up to her face, running his fingers along her jaw before finally pushing her hair back away from her neck. He broke away from her mouth to trail kisses along her neck, stopping to suck or nip at areas that drew a soft moan from her lips. He made his way down to her chest, where she had left part of the sweater unzipped.

When he pulled back on the sweater he stopped with a groan, breathing deeply as he held her closer and grew tighter in his pants. Where he was expecting to see some sort of lace bra, instead he was met with nothing. She wasn’t wearing anything under the sweater. Hungrily, he opened her sweater more and he attached himself to the soft swell of her breast. Kissing, sucking, and gently biting.

Without even realizing it, they started to move against each other. Spencer rolled his hips against hers, seeking that friction but focusing his attention on the skin between his lips.

“Oh, fuck.” Y/n threw her head back in a moan as Spencer finally attached his mouth to the hard nub that was waiting for attention. He swirled his tongue around as he sucked on the sensitive area. “That feels so good.” she groaned. She brought her hands up to tangle them in his hair and hold him in place, only letting him move when he wanted to show her other side some love as well.

It was difficult to move much against the car, but Spencer was hitting her in all the right places. Y/n could feel a familiar welcomed pressure building in her core and she gripped her legs tighter around him.

“Spencer,” y/n breathed out. “I’m close.”

He lifted his head enough to look at her. Her head back and eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. “Yeah?” he asked and she nodded her head while trying to move her hips faster against his.

Spencer ground into her with a new purpose now. Paying more attention to the moves from his hips, he went back to sucking on her breast. This time he brought his hand to palm the other one. Squeezing and feeling the fullness of it in his hand. He rolled and pinched her nipple between his fingers at the same time as he gently grazed his teeth over the other one. It was enough to send Y/n over the edge, with Spencer right behind her.

Spencer’s thrusts grew short until eventually they stopped as they came down from their high. He brought her in for another kiss, lazily moving his lips against hers while they got their breathing under control. Finally, Y/n unwrapped her legs from around him and he let her go.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe we just did that,” she said with a suddenly shy smile and glanced up at him. He looked down at her like he was seeing an angel.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He gripped the edges of her sweater and zipped it up tight to her neck. “What do you say we skip the coffee and go right back to my place?”

“I like the way you think. Lead the way.”

Click here for chapter 2! Available on AO3 only because it's basically smut and I was too nervous to post it on Tumblr lol

Thank you for reading, liking, or rebloging! <3

#spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #alleys writing #spencer reid/fem reader

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cryingatwindermerepeaks · 3 months ago

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Little!Rio x Cg!Agatha Ficlet <3

(Set long before the events of Agatha all along but still possible spoiler warning)

Rio has an awful day of work and when she comes home she just needs her mama

This is my first time writing for either of them so sorry if it’s a bit ooc

Tw: blood, allusions to death, witches (?), crying

Word count: 1045

I’ve watched Agatha all along episode 5 4 times now and I cant stop thinking about them so I wrote this in under an hour… and didn’t edit it. So it kind of sucks, sorry.

💚🪄🐇💜

When the front door opened Agatha felt like she could finally relax. Rio was home. It was late, almost midnight, and she was ready to see her girl and get off to sleep. Though, as Rio stumbled into the living room, little more than a husk of her usually perky self, Agatha knew it would not be so simple. “Bad day?” Agatha questioned, pulling herself up from laying so that there was space for the other girl on the couch. Rio nodded quietly, dropping onto the couch and curling up to Agatha’s side. She let out a shaky breath which it felt like she’d been holding all day. Agatha gently ran her fingers through Rio’s dark hair. “What’s the matter baby?” she hummed, knowing it must’ve been a hard day for Rio to be so put out.

“Bad,” She choked out. Rio began rubbing at her tired face only to quickly pull her hands away, looking at them with horror as if they were covered in blood. The room was lit only by a singular lamp so it was entirely possible that there was some blood on Rio’s hands. “Bad,” She whined again, rubbing at her hands with an agonizing desperation.

“Rio.” Agatha took her hands, guiding Rio to look at her. “Rio, hey, baby girl,” she cooed. Rio didn’t meet her eyes, she rarely did when she was upset, but she did turn her face in Agatha’s direction. There were hot tears of frustration in her eyes, building a harrowing ache in Agatha’s chest. “Hi,” she smiled warmly, trying to calm her distressed girlfriend. “What’s the matter?” Rio sniffled, she was flexing and wriggling her fingers uncomfortably in Agatha’s hands but making no move to pull them away.

“Bad, bad job.” The tears were running down Rio’s cheeks. She was clearly feeling little, if her lack of vocabulary and emotional control were anything to say for it. Agatha wondered what kind of awful job she’d been met with in order to have such a reaction when she faced tragedy everyday and never batted an eye. Rio sucked in a labored breath, burying herself against Agatha’s side.

“Yeah, I’ve got you, I’ve got you Cariño.” Agatha let go of Rio’s hands and wrapped her arms around her shaking frame. She rocked them both back and forth gently, Rio’s sobs only growing in intensity. “Let it out. Let it all out baby, I’ve got you now.” She soothed. “You’re not bad, you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s your job, it’s not your fault.” Her words felt like the soft waves of the ocean, lapping soothingly against the burning sand which stuck itself to every inch of Rio’s body. You’re not bad. You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just your job. It’s not your fault.

The cries subsided, though Rio still felt like her body was coated in layers and layers of blood. She squirmed, whining and tugging at the collar of her shirt. “Off?” Agatha questioned, noticing the frustrated tears returning to Rio’s eyes. She nodded, still fidgeting with her collar.

Agatha gently slipped Rio’s tight black outfit off, it was practical for the day job but obviously not something she’d want to be anywhere near when little. “I got you, mama’s got you.”

“Mama,” Rio babbled, nestling herself back against Agatha. She brought her hand up to her mouth which Agatha quickly batted away, remembering the possible germs which shouldn’t go anywhere near her baby’s mouth.

“How about a bath?” She suggested, already standing up because there was no way Rio was getting out of a bath. Reluctantly, but uncharacteristically quietly, Rio took Agatha’s hand and let her lead her to the bathroom. Knowing they upset Rio, Agatha didn’t turn on the fluorescent bathroom lights, instead using a flick of her magic to cast a warm glow in the room.

“Pu’ple,” Rio babbled, seeing the soft slither of Agatha’s powers.

“That’s right baby, purple.” Rio said that almost every time Agatha used her powers while she was little. Little Rio was always amazed by Agatha’s ‘purple’. They were still holding hands as Agatha began running the bath. Rio shivered, the tiled room making her half undressed state uncomfortably cold. Once the bath was run, Agatha helped her into the warm water which smelt of lavender and thyme. She gently washed Rio, scrubbing the dirt and blood from her finger nails with care. “Do you want to play for a bit or hop out now?” Agatha questioned after she’d washed Rio’s hair. Rio reached out towards Agatha, signaling that she wanted to hop out.

Agatha was so gentle with Rio as she got her ready for bed. She wrapped her in the softest towel, making a game of dropping it over Rio’s face while she dried her hair just to see her baby smile. “Lay down, Cariño,” she instructed gently as she guided Rio onto the bed. Rio obliged, patiently sucking her now clean thumb as she let Agatha dress her. Agatha guided her into a pull-up. Rio didn’t wear them often but Agatha knew she found it comforting when she felt especially small. “You’re so brave,” she cooed, rubbing gentle circles on Rio’s stomach. Rio giggled and burried her face into the soft blankets bashfully. Agatha grabbed one of her sweaters which she knew swamped Rio and helped the girl into it. Rio began squirming halfway through the process, reaching for her stuffed toy rabbit who was perched against the pillows. Agatha grabbed Scratchy Jr. and handed him to Rio who held him to her face.

“Bunny go hop, hop, hop,” Rio explained as she held her toy.

“You’re so clever little one,” Agatha praised.

Once dressed, Rio climbed up the bed and nestled herself amongst the pillows. Agatha used her magic to get a bottle of warm milk before sliding into the bed next to Rio. Immediately Rio clung to Agatha’s side. “You’ve had a big day, let’s get you to sleep hm?” She cooed, gently guiding the nipple of the bottle into Rio’s mouth. Rio hummed contentedly, resting her head against Agatha’s chest as she suckled the silky, warm milk. “Good night mi Cariño,” Agatha hummed.

“Ni’ mama,” Rio yawned, around the tip of her bottle as she began to drift off.

#little!rio #cg!agatha harkness #cg!agatha #agatha all along agere #marvel agere #marvel age regression #sfw agere #fandom agere #agere headcannons

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ikilledjoedick · 4 days ago

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@flownwrong thank you for tagging me in this film meme yay :)

Rules: Post 9 of your favorite films you saw for the first time in 2024 that aren't new (2023/2024) but are new to you, and tag 9 others to do the same.

Im tagging @gueule @amanitaphalloides @newsom @life-lifeisalongtime and anyone else who wants to do it!

Movie thoughts under the cut:

1) I ’m thinking of ending things was the first movie I watched this year and I truly adored it. It was brilliantly written and featured some powerhouse performances. I read the book immediately after finishing, and while the book and movie have some key differences, I think the film was a phenomenal act of translation. Both left me with the bone deep chill of an intricate, sick dream and I found it difficult to shake.

2) persuasion is great! I also read the book after finishing and it quickly became my favorite Austen. Hard to beat second chances at love.

3) Dracula 2000 is an unsung classic. Dracula is revealed to be Judas iscariot. 10/10 no notes

4) You complain about a life that YOU chose. You are not a victim. Not at all. Your generosity conceals something dirtier and meaner. You're incapable of facing your ambitions and you resent me for it, but I'm not the one who put you where you are. I had nothing to do with it! You're not sacrificing yourself as you say. You choose to sit on the sidelines because you're afraid! Your pride makes your head explode before you can even come up with a germ of an idea! You wake up at 40 needing someone to blame. You're the one to blame! You're petrified by your own fucking standards and your fear of failure! This is the truth!

5) a triumphant testament to the enduring and indefatigable soul of the himejoshi. I love any movie that is written and directed like a play. I cried watching it and then also like a week later in the shower thinking about it

6) BRILLIANT FILM. Hands down the best horror I saw this year. La Llorona weaves the personal and the historical seamlessly. Deeply haunting and shockingly cathartic. A must see for anyone who cares about horror, history, or justice.

7) WHAT IS THERE TO SAY THAT HASNT BEEN SAID. A dirty gut punch of a film. This movie sat me down and made me confront some important things in myself that I had been avoiding. I’ve never seen dysphoria depicted in such a raw, honest, and unflinching way. I tend to agree with the director’s takeaway—this isn’t a cautionary tale, rather a brutal (but deftly crafted!) examination of what transition can mean. This movie made me write a chapbook. This is cheating bc the film did come out this year but I wanted to talk about it

8) if I haven’t texted you directly about this movie count your blessings. I need a lawyer present to discuss it. Honestly just message me about it I’ve got a minimum of 5 paragraphs locked and loaded.

9) i also watched this movie for the first time this year! After we watched it my friends and I spent a solid 20 minutes bemoaning the death of color and film. I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like it before. What a gory, decadent gem of a film.

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nero-onlooking-archive · 11 months ago

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I'm a big fan of demon hybrids having animal traits in the sense they're technically demon traits but plenty demon designs are based off animals to some degree, and I'm a biology enthusiast. So here's some of mine:

-Neros demon arm in dmc 4 is a result of his body trying to protect him. Similar to scaring, because he got attacked by a demon and it's noted he thought it was infected his body's immune response to being expose to demon (germs? Fluid? Breaking of the skin in general?) Was to basically activate his DT form in that one area likely to stave off infection and or prevent future damage. Again like scarring in humans. My supporting evidence is in DMC 5 Neros demon arm has changed to look like his according DT trigger. This is not to say DT forms are basically trauma, but that as a bodies defensive measure is less stable and functional the younger you are. Bc most of your bodies resources are going towards growing and hormones.

- Dante eating pizza with like almost all toppings could reasonably be backed as being because be it just using his guns or taking a DT form it's gonna be quite physically taxing. Carbs provide energy, it woukd realistically burn a ton of energy to do things like shapeshift. (You could make a case of this applying a similar way to V where functionally being split in two (6 counting Gryphon nightmare shadow phantom) means vergil was already running on fumes and Urizen just got most of it hence he still needed the qliphoth fruit for power. But also why even when eating it afterwards Vergil is still basically on equal footing as Dante. It basically just got Vergil at a healthy...everything. and it may be why Griffon Shadow and Nightmare weren't merged back in as well (yes symbolism obv but lemme support it with this) because the fruit was like a extreme multivitamin griffon shadow and Nightmare would be akin to like overdosing on vitamins. (This is also why Neros arm is basically in a DT state in dmc 4 but otherwise his DT is like a shadow. It's a lot of energy so this is his bodies closest thing it can manage due to energy but i wouldnt rule out age too as Dante had no issue going full DT at 18) this may also be why Nero can have his DT arms out without transforming fully into a DT form but also may just be bc he's 1/3rd demon

- Urizens form having so many eyes is a result of him still getting some of vergils trauma bc ptsd shows up as hyper vigilance/more activity in the brain.

- Neros DT form in dmc 4 and 5 both has downward horns akin to vergils dmc 3 DT form but also they are wing like in a way that reminds me of Credos Angelo form (esp in the chest) and his chin spikes are like Dantes DT form in 5. I think this is like half formed by genetics half formed by experiences in a way bc of those details. this also explains despite being idential twins dantes and vergils DT forms are so different. (Dante will never say it but he wishes his wings were also an extra pair of hands this is because he could eat more slices of pizza at a time)

- yknow how in some ways horns make cooling off easier because it pulls an animals blood out of their body through said horns to be cooled and then go back in the body? Dante and Nero can use this to cool off but Vergils broken horns don't allow this.

- bc Nero has more of a reptile/raptor motif and Vergils is more on the fish side with fin mentions I interpret this as Neros scales are made of kertaine like hair and Vegils are made of Dentine like teeth.

-until Nero regret a human arm his DT formed arm shed. This normally doesn't happen for Dante and vergil but that's bc theyre not in their DT forms 24/7.

I ALSO THOUGHT THE SAME ABOUT NEROS ARM!!

I always thought that the reason why dante never got carpal tunnel from pulling the trigger of ebony n ivory sm is because his body would heal it before it got a chance. Vergil's horns could also be broken because his internal body temp is MUCH higher than his kin, and therefore that xtra heat in his hosts is still being vented despite how broken they are?? idk.

#sorry this is so short but You Are Correct in Everything #dmc #devil may cry #ask #dmc nero #vergil dmc #dmc dante

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somber-sapphic · 2 years ago

Note

Can I request 3 and 4 with 🐍 and💐 for Callie and Arizona if it's okay with Callie being sick? I am loving everything that you have already written! You write with Marina super well I can't wait to see what you can do with Callie/Arizona.

Chicken Soup for the Surgeon

〖Notes: I had a bit of trouble trying to get the characters down for this one, I hope you like it.〗

〖Summary: Arizona's superpower is never wrong. That doesn't mean that Callie will listen.〗

〖Word Count: 2398 〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Arizona had warned her. She had warned her ten hours ago, saying that she should take the day off of work because she’d be sick. Callie wasn’t typically one to ignore her wife’s typically valid points, but she scoffed at the idea that the perky blonde could predict when someone would be sick with no evidence at all.

As a medical professional, she needed evidence for just about any decision in her life. There came a certain comfort when one worked in a field driven by science, a level of surety that was never swayed by opinion. No matter what someone believed there was a correct answer. There may have been multiple, but there was always an answer if you were willing to find it.

Imagine the orthopedic surgeon's annoyance when she woke up for her next shift with a pounding headache and stuffy nose. She groaned inwardly and rolled over in bed, surprised to find it empty. Her wife was nowhere to be seen. Shit.

The brunette checked the time and her ‘shit’ feeling grew more intense. She was late. She was so very late.

Ignoring the protests of her overly exhausted body the surgeon pulled herself out of bed and raced to the bathroom, pulling on the first clothes that she managed to yank from the dresser. She managed to brush her teeth while doing her hair, a feat that she was mildly impressed by. She was capable of doing anything if she was late.

Callie ran into the kitchen, grabbing her bags as she headed for the door, pulling up short when she saw a note on the counter.

Calliope-

Don’t you dare come to work today. Bailey knows you’re sick and is under orders to alert me if you are seen entering the hospital. There’s chicken soup in the fridge, heat it for lunch. I’ll call you in a few hours to check-in.

Love you,

Arizona

The note gave the ill doctor pause. What if she did say home? What if she followed her wife’s orders and went back to bed? She knew from experience that Arizona made amazing chicken noodle soup, it was practically the only thing that she could cook. She also knew that there was a good chance that the blonde would come home to her if she asked.

Callie pushed the thought away as quickly as it had appeared, she probably wouldn’t be allowed to see patients but she could at least fill out paperwork. Like most of her coworkers, she was awful about finishing her paperwork on time, there was just so much going on that she didn’t always have time.

✭✭✭✭

Amelia was startled from her intense study of the brain scan by a hacking cough that reverberated off of the walls and made her chest hurt in sympathy. She poked her head through the doorway and curled her lip at the sight of Callie stumbling down the hallway.

“Torres!” She called, pulling the brunette’s attention away from whatever her original task was. Based on the glazed look in the Ortho Goddesses eyes and the emptiness in her expression Amelia wasn’t even sure that she had a task.

“Damn, you’ve kept that cough through two colds and it sounds like you’re on your third.” The neurosurgeon murmured, pressing the back of her hand against Callie’s hot forehead. She grimaced and the other doctor took a few quick steps away, looking dazed. She turned away and began to cough into her arm, doing her best to shield the woman in front of her from the germs.

Amelia reared back, covering her mouth with a hand.

“No, nope. I have to be in a kid's brain in two hours, you are not giving me whatever that is. Go home Callie, you’re gross.” She wrinkled her nose and gave Callie a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before running off to rub hand sanitizer on any part of her body that might have been exposed to whatever her friend was currently infected with.

The ill woman sniffled tiredly and trudged down the hall, not going anywhere in particular. With her brain on autopilot, Callie found herself wandering onto the pediatric unit, right to where Arizona was signing reports outside of a young patient's room.

“I want a clotting test done on her and make sure to continue monitoring her vitals, page me if they drop any lower.” The blonde doctor ordered, smiling warmly at a nurse. The man nodded and went to get the things needed for the clotting test.

Callie realized her mistake at the last second and tried to veer off course, but it was too late, she had been seen. The pediatric surgeon glared at her sick girlfriend and shook her head, resisting the urge to start yelling in the middle of the hallway.

While the woman always loved her heelies, she was particularly grateful for them in that moment, it made it much easier to catch up with her fleeing lover.

“Calliope! What the hell are you doing here?” She hissed, grabbing the brunette's shoulder and spinning her around. Callie looked at her with wide eyes, seeming at a loss for words. She was never at a loss for words, she always had something to say.

Arizona felt her heart drop at the look on the woman’s face, she just looked exhausted and confused.

“Callie. Baby. Why are you here?” She asked, her voice softening as she let go of the frustration. Her girlfriend had a fever, she wasn’t fully aware of what was happening.

“I um…I didn’t want to be alone.” Callie said sheepishly, refusing to meet Arizona’s eyes. She was incredibly embarrassed by the admission, she wasn’t one to express any kind of weakness, and this, this was weakness. This was just about as bad as it could get. She was vulnerable, she wanted her girlfriend.

“Oh, Calliope. Okay,” The blonde sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to figure out what she should do. She could stick the other woman in a room until her shift was over, that might be the best course of action. Or she could just take her home to make sure that she rested and it was probably best to remove her from the hospital entirely so that she didn't sneak off to work.

“Ellen,” She said, turning back to one of the nurses. “I’m going to take Dr. Torres home, I want you to page Dr. Montgomery-Shepard if anything happens. She will decide if I am needed.” The nurse nodded her understanding and gave Callie a sympathetic smile. The doctor wrinkled her nose in distaste, unhappy that she was getting so much attention. She just wanted her girlfriend.

“C’mon Callie. Let’s go.” Arizona whispered, looping her arm through the other woman’s. Callie coughed into her shoulder and the ped’s surgeon hummed her disapproval and rubbed her back to calm the fit.

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” Callie replied, rasped rather, her eyes dull and clouded with fever. She had started to shiver a bit, inching closer to the woman by her side. Arizona held her a bit tighter as they walked out of the building, throwing a wave at a slightly annoyed-looking Bailey on the way out.

One look at the orthopedic surgeon and the woman’s expression turned from frustrated confusion to a mix of disgust and concern. She waved back with a slight eye-roll, leaving the two to go home.

Callie fell asleep as soon as Arizona started the car, her cold taking everything out of her. The blonde smiled over at her girlfriend, her heart swelling at just how beautiful she was. The wrinkles on her forehead were gone, leaving a soft content expression on her face.

Her lips were parted and her nose was red, but that didn’t take away from her overall beauty. It added a sort of vulnerability to the woman’s stoic demeanor. That was when Arizona realized: she was in love with Calliope Torres.

She drove in silence, contemplating the revelation that she’d just had, glancing over at the sick brunette every few seconds just to reassure herself that the woman was still breathing. The quiet was only broken by the sounds of Callies soft snores and sniffles.

When they arrived home Arizona was almost hesitant to wake the brunette, she was sleeping more peacefully than she had in weeks. But her cheeks were flushed and her nose had begun to run across her lip, they needed to go inside.

She climbed out of the car and shut the door quietly, hoping to give her just a few more seconds of rest. The blonde opened Callie’s door and touched her shoulder, squeezing it gently to wake her up.

“Hey Callie, it's time to wake up.” She murmured, reaching up to tuck a lock of thick dark hair behind her lover's ear. The brunette started, sitting up quickly with wide confused eyes. She stared at Arizona, almost looking right through her.

“Hey baby, it’s okay.” Callie frowned, looking around, disoriented as she tried to take in her surroundings. She was pretty sure she’d fallen asleep at the hospital, but…this wasn’t the hospital.

“We’re at home, remember?” The blonde could read her mind and any other day it would be cute, but for now it was creepy. It was making her nervous, she didn’t fully understand what was happening and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep, hopefully in her girlfriend’s arms.

“We’re at home?” She asked, blinking tiredly up at her fellow surgeon.

“Mhm, we’re home. Come on, let's get you inside.” Arizona wrapped an arm around Callie’s waist and helped her walk inside, being incredibly careful not to let her trip up the steps. It was a slow, painstaking process, but soon enough she had the brunette in the bedroom, standing near the bed.

“I gotta change.”

“Woah, woah, sit down your complexion’s scaring me. I’ll help you change, okay? Let's take your temp first.” The pediatric surgeon whipped out a thermometer and dragged it across Callie’s forehead, simultaneously forcing the brunette to sit down. She held the woman’s chin in hand as she stared at the device in her hand.

“Okay, 101.6, that’s not as bad as I thought. Here, I want you to change into these while I get some NyQuil, which you will be taking. Understood?” Arizona had gone full-on doctor mode, not leaving anything up to fate. She would be taking everything into her own hands to make sure that her girlfriend got better instead of worse.

Callie sighed and nodded, slightly relieved to have her girlfriend with her. She wasn’t alone, she didn’t have to deal with it on her own, and she had someone to take care of her. The brunette watched as Arizona left the room and began the painstaking process of undressing, her muscles aching in protest with her every move.

She had managed to pull on the sweatpants and get the shirt half off when the other woman returned, a bottle of Nyquil in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. She set her things down on the bedside table and chuckled at he lover's predicament, rolling her eyes slightly.

“Need some help?” She chuckled, moving to pull the shirt off the rest of the way and replace it with the soft cotton one. With the woman changed and sitting in bed, she was now pouting up at her blonde lover.

“I don’t feel good.” The brunette complained, sniffling pathetically. Her cheeks were flushed which was a huge contrast to the pallor of the rest of her skin. As soon as the ‘I’m the toughest person in the room grrr’ attitude wore off, Callie turned into a big baby when she was sick. It was sort of endearing.

“I know Callie. Take this and drink half of that OJ and then you can get some sleep.” Arizona ordered, handing over the small ‘shot glass’ of medicine. The ill woman grimaced and glanced up with a ‘do I have to?’ look on her face that she hoped would work. She forgot that her girlfriend got that look all of the time.

“Nice try, take it.” With a long-suffering sigh, Callie did what she was told, being sure to exaggerate her disgusted expression the whole time.

“You’re mean.” She grumbled, reaching for the orange juice to chase the awful taste of the medicine.

“Yeah, but I’m cute.” Arizona grinned back at her and began to change, pulling her hair out of its ponytail as she climbed back into comfy clothes, fully intending to join her girlfriend.

Callie drank about a quarter of the OJ before she couldn’t do it anymore, her throat protesting against the acidity of the drink. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to make Arizona happy, but she just couldn’t drink anymore.

“Alright, I guess that’ll do. Now, you are going to take a nap and I am going to do some work. Sound good?” The blonde wasn’t really looking for an agreement, it was happening whether or not Callie wanted, but thankfully she did.

She curled into the woman’s side as she pulled the blankets over the two of them, opening her laptop as she settled under the covers. The slightly younger surgeon put one hand on the top of Callie’s head, stroking her hair as she typed with one hand, the clack of the keys lulling the sick woman into a sleepy daze.

“‘Zona?” She mumbled, already slurring as she began to fall asleep. Arizona hummed in response, not looking up from her screen. She had files to finish and this was the perfect excuse to catch up on some of the pointless work that she’d been putting off.

“Love you ‘Zona.” She stopped in her work and looked down at the woman by her side, a smile spreading across her lips. Callie was chuckling quietly, her body shaking with quiet laughter.

“I love you too. Now shush, I need to work.” And that was that. Calliope Torres lay with Arizona Robbins, one sleeping fitfully while the other worked. It wasn’t the most glamorous sick day, and it wasn’t the most comfortable, but at least she wasn’t alone. Both would later agree that leaving Callie to roam while she had a fever was definitely not the best idea.

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wallspikes · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 4

almost as the clock strikes 12 here is chapter FOUR. one whole year later. sorry. i cant expect myself to meet deadlines i make for myself. i think its like 3.5k words o7

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Gio, no doubt sitting in the ruins of a sand dune beyond the lengths of repair, and more than likely covered in a plethora of various bug bites, felt that he was building more bridges than he had burned in the past day. The little man hadn’t run for cover the minute he’d sat down to make himself comfortable, though they still looked ready to jump away at the first sign of danger. Gio guessed he could count that as a success.

The time on his phone was a little after twelve-thirty— Gio finished off the last of the granola bar and tucked the wrapper into his pocket. He peered down at the stranger, who warily glanced up at him. The expression on their face was uncertain, their eyebrows upturned in worried arches, their cheeks a blotchy red; Gio remembered they were crying while he tried to free them from the net. He suddenly felt bad for making them stand there. “You can leave if you want,” he offered, “I’m not trying to keep you here. B-But, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate this, of course!”

“I didn’t know if you were real or not, coming out here,” he started, scratching the back of his neck. “My sister saw the bite you gave me and told me it looked like some animal, and I was sorta starting to believe her..?” Gio shrugged the feeling of doubt away and grinned, “So, thanks for talking to me— or, uh, standing with me. It's nice to not feel crazy.”

The little man shifted in their spot, awkwardly kicking sand to cover their feet only to shake it off again. Despite the dismissal, they still stood rooted to their spot, with no intention of leaving, it seemed. They moved to hold the peanut beneath an arm and instead focused on the sticky knots that matted their beard from the honey of the granola bar.

Gio watched them tug at their beard, wincing each time their neck jerked from a particularly stubborn clump until the secondhand pain became too much to bear. “Here,” he offered, leaning over to pull a water bottle from his backpack, “Have some water. It might help get the honey out before you rip off your beard.”

The stranger's hand pulled from their beard, their grooming interrupted as Gio reached for his backpack. They clutched the peanut with white knuckles and curled their toes in the sand, charged to bolt if Gio decided to make any more sudden movements. Gio offered a placating hand, his water bottle gripped in the other fist. “Sorry—!” He mumbled, embarrassed at his lack of foresight, “I'll move slower, promise.”

Gio could feel the little man's eyes intently on him as he carefully poured a capful of water, as though every little move he made was under the most intense scrutiny. He placed it a few steps away from his calf and quickly withdrew his hands, waiting for the stranger to make their decision. They considered the offering, then turned to the nearby underbrush; Gio could watch the wheels turn in their head as they weighed the benefits of freshwater against the safety of the bramble. Mindlessly, a hand reached up to fiddle with their beard, but recoiled at the feeling of matted knots. They turned to the capful of water again with a hesitant expression.

”You don't need to worry,“ Gio assured them, “It's just water. It’s a little warm. But I promise it’s clean, I’ve been drinking it all day. Uh, unless you're worried about germs, or something— I can't promise you it's that clean.“

The stranger stared up at him for a few moments, that same worried expression still on their face, and Gio waited with bated breath. He could feel the little man searching for a lie in his expression, and Gio hoped he wasn't falsely showing one. He offered a smile, friendly and hopeful as he tried to hide his nervousness. Thankfully, though, the stranger's scrutiny didn't last much longer— they seemed to come to the conclusion that they could tolerate his presence for a little longer if it benefited them, whatever Gio's motives were.

Gio watched curiously as the little man pulled the cap of water further from his calf and started to drink, cupping handfuls of water to their mouth with rapid fervor; they must've been thirstier than they let on. Once their beard was thoroughly soaked, they worked on tugging out the knots again, this time with ease. Gio grinned, satisfied that the man appeared a little better, but he still wished he could get a closer look at them.

His little guest still entertained themself with the cap of water, dipping their face in the pool, their peanut temporarily discarded at their side. Gio waited until their face was submerged to begin to move, slowly crossing his legs until he could lean his elbows into the sand and stare down at the man as if studying a particularly interesting insect.

When they lifted their head and wiped the water from their eyes, the stranger caught sight of Gio looming over them and leapt away, the capful of water spilling in their haste. They stood, charged to run. Gio watched their every little movement with quiet fascination. He absorbed every detail— from the messy stitches in their clothes to the pinkish sunburn that colored their skin. Their expression was tight with worry and their hair bristled on end as Gio’s eyes passed closely over them. Out from the sides of their thick, full hair stuck two large, round ears that twitched at every little sound. Gio exhaled — still awed by the existence of the little man — and accidentally rustled the hair of the stranger. “Sorry,” he leaned back, suddenly beginning to worry all this studying might kill them, “You’re just really cool.”

There was no response. Gio watched the man’s puffed-up fur gradually start to settle. They patted down any patches that persisted in a bristle. Gio sat back on his heels, reached to check for the time, and felt the weight of his eyelids double the second the number ticked on screen.

Gio yawned, exhaustion beginning to catch up with him as the night continued in its standing lull. He turned his head up to the sky, past the tall bushes and the bamboo to stare at the stars, and sighed. “I should probably go home.” More of a statement than a suggestion, he reached behind himself for his backpack. “Are you headed home soon?”

The redhead straightened up a bit at being addressed, and responded with a quick nod. They took a few steps towards the bushes.

“Cool.” Gio craned his neck over the bushes, then through their lower brambles. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking for — a small, dollhouse-like structure beneath the leaves, or a glimmer of light? — but he saw nothing. He tugged on his backpack. “Do you want me to walk you back?” He tried.

They looked uncomfortable with the suggestion, slightly curling in on themself while they bared a set of awkwardly grimacing yellowing teeth. They shook their head for good measure, though Gio had already gotten the message. Disappointed, he nodded. “Well, what if we meet up again sometime?” Gio held out hope for another shot.

No harsh reaction immediately followed the inquiry, which Gio took for a good sign, though the long pauses of blank stares were equally just as unnerving. He held his breath while he waited for an answer, watching the little man thoughtfully square their jaw as their eyes quickly snapped to meet his, like they were searching for the source of an ulterior motive there. For some reason, Gio felt himself getting nervous — was he hiding something? He didn’t think so. Regardless, he did his best not to show it.

When the little man found nothing in his eyes, they subtly let their jaw relax and rumbled an exhausted growl of relief. Their expression betrayed the sound, their brow still pulled tightly to their nose, upturned with worry — Gio had half a mind to ask if they always looked like that, though he was beginning to become more unsure if the question would be answered with a ‘no.’ But, even so, as they hesitantly shrugged — a response that could realistically be a polite decline, had the little man meant it that way — Gio was ecstatic. “That’s great!” He exclaimed, the nervousness that had seized him just moments before making way for a giddy feeling of enthusiasm. “What’s best for you? Should I come here, or do you want to start coming to me…?”

Shellshocked, but too reserved to correct Gio if their intention had been to deny, they slowly pointed at him. The man seemed fairly settled in his decision, though Gio was still a bit unsure of the agreement. “You want to come to me?” The little man nodded. “Okay, yeah! That works fine.”

He knelt on the boardwalk and leaned over the lip until he spotted the little red-headed man slightly tucked away into the foliage. “I live on Atlantic, if that means anything,” he grinned, pointing through the trees and bushes, “It’s two walks over, just skip the first one; the gray house is mine. It has our name on it— well, it says ‘Clark,’ which is my last name. I’m there pretty often, if you need anything. Or if you just want to say hi.”

The little man glanced in the direction he was pointing, as if to politely consider the offer before giving their answer — then nodded. Gio, hovering upside down over the edge of the boardwalk, gave an excited thumbs up, “Great! My family’s fine, so if you see them, don’t get too concerned. But, uh, I’ll try to find time out there at night for myself, so you can talk to just me, if you want.”

The man didn’t respond this time, their expression only tightening a bit — an expression Gio couldn’t quite get the read on that he would have liked. He left the conversation at that. “I hope you… feel better. Sorry, again, about everything.” A pause. “Yeah,” he added, “I’ll see you later… Have a good night, man.”

Gio stood, dusted off his knees and knocked the sand from his shoes, gave the tattered net a grim once-over, and had half a mind to break the thing over his knee — but, ultimately, decided against it after remembering the last time he was whacked from the recoil of a fishing pole.

As he walked home, suddenly more aware of each footfall with the knowledge of the man who lived beneath the boardwalk, Gio let his mind wander to his family — how would they react to seeing a man a fraction of their size? Living, breathing, thinking? Would they take it well?

Should he even tell them…?

Gio let the thought ruminate. There was no guarantee they’d even see the little guy if he never told them about them. If the stranger showed up at their doorstep looking for a conversation, Gio was certain they’d hide from unknown family members, whether they knew about them or not — though, they’d probably appreciate it if his family wasn’t chasing after them, like he had. Gio shrugged to himself. He wouldn’t tell his family, to save everyone the hassle.

Plus, he wasn’t sure he had taken the news so well himself.

Sure, stumbling across the little guy in the gully left him fascinated and even more curious by the bizarre discovery, but he thought back to the feeling of the man in his palm… they couldn’t have weighed more than a few ounces — not even a pound — and when they stood before him for their mimed conversation, Gio couldn’t help but notice how pale and thin their body was.

Gio slowed his pace as he thought. Was the stranger hungry? Sick? He wished they had taken more food, if that was the case. He could spare it easily— though, with the way the little guy struggled to carry their cargo after the hopefully- generous-enough offering, the issue seemed not to come in the offering, but in receiving. There was no way they could have comfortably brought more food home. Maybe he could bring some more interesting things next time he planned to look for the stranger again. Or, he could wrap a few provisions in some napkins and leave them on the little man’s doorstep, once he knew where it was. He just hoped the man was eating comfortably.

The idea that they might not be bothered him. He’d never seen a person like that before, but the fact that there was one meant that there had to be more — were they all so thin? Hanging so closely to the threat of starvation that their skin paled and pulled tight to the bone? He hoped not. He hoped his little stranger was just an outlier.

Gio realized, as he found himself a few paces from his doorstep, that he hadn’t been watching his feet while he was lost in thought about the nutrition of the little man. In a heart-wrenching panic, he glanced back at the boardwalk, dreading to find any unfortunate soul who’d wandered into his path, but thankfully found nothing in the dim reflection of moonlight off the wooden slats. He sighed, and resigned himself to his screen-paneled front door — where he made sure not to let it slam behind him, or let the hinges squeak too loudly.

As his phone’s clock turned past one-thirty in the morning, he turned its flashlight to the floor, kicked off his sneakers, and softly found his way up the stairs, around the bend of the hallway and—

“Hey.”

Gio jumped, nearly dropping his phone, but catching it before it could make a parent-waking clatter. Shining his flashlight down the hallway, Nicolette poked her head from her open bedroom door. “Nico!” he hissed, narrowing his eyes at her through the darkness, “What?! Why are you even awake?!”

“It’s not that late. Plus, I heard you sneak out at eleven-thirty and wanted to know where you headed off to without inviting me.” Nicolette leaned against her doorway, “Were you hanging out with Monty again?”

Gio shrugged — it seemed as good a coverup as any, “Yeah. They wanted to sit over by the bay.”

“Why’d you have a net?”

Gio’s flashlight slightly faltered. He could feel this conversation twist itself into an interrogation as the moments passed and the questions became more detailed. It was rare that a Clark sibling conversation could last more than a few minutes without turning into some kind of debate, and it seemed Gio couldn’t save this one’s meager life. “How did you know I had a net?”

Nicolette gestured into her room with a shrug of her shoulders, “You’re not the only one with a window.”

He grit his teeth, “We were catching crabs.”

“What’re you?” Nicolette scoffed, “Seven?”

Gio turned back down the hallway to his own bedroom door and slid his bag inside before he whispered again, his voice exasperated, “Whatever! If you wanna keep talking, come over here. We’re gonna wake up mom and dad.”

His sister huffed, but pushed herself off her doorway nonetheless. She made herself comfortable on the foot of her brother’s bed and leaned her back against the neighboring wall as Gio closed the door behind them — making sure to give the hallway a quick, cursory glance, just in case.

Gio flicked on a lamp and shook some of the long-clinging sand from the legs of his pants — Nicolette fixed him with a studious gaze. He paused. “What?”

She narrowed her eyes, “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on with me,” Gio lied.

Nicolette ignored him. She pointed to the band-aid on his hand, “First, you come home with your hand mauled. Then, you wander off at night with a net, and won’t tell me where you went. What are you really trying to catch?”

“I told you already,” Gio shrugged, turning to rummage through his dresser for a set of pajamas, “it was a fly. And I was catching crabs with Monty.”

“Yeah, you know that’s not true,” Nicolette called his bluff, a triumphant smirk in her voice, “Plus, I can see your face getting red from here.”

She was right. Gio could feel his face getting warm, too. That always happened when he lied or started to get nervous. Usually, he’d find the chance to hide the pinkness of his cheeks before it got too obvious — his most common solution was to run away — but with his sister sitting so firmly on his only hope for safe haven, he’d have to resign himself to embarrassment. “Fine,” he rolled his eyes, “That’s not true.”

Nicolette perked up. “Okay… then tell me what is!”

Gio crossed his arms. He loved his sister, but he wasn’t going to let her strongarm him into giving up all his secrets so easily this time. Maybe he didn’t want to tell her. “Well, y’know, maybe I don’t want to tell you,” he echoed his own thoughts, “Why do you always need to know everything?”

She thunked her head against the wall, “It can’t be that serious.”

He shrugged, doing his best to keep his cheeks from turning red. He was lying in every way — not only verbally, to his sister, but to himself. It was that serious. “I don’t know. Maybe it is.”

“Ugh! Gio!” she exclaimed, her voice still a whisper, “Just tell me!”

He wanted to tell her badly. Gio took a deep breath, and he held it for a moment, trying to keep himself from spilling the entire story of the stranger right then and there — but, as he opened his mouth to exhale, the dam broke. “It’s a… little man?!” Gio could have shouted with all the pent-up bewilderment of the nights before, if not for his parents’ room just a few doors down, “Like, really little. I saw them and they bit me and then I just couldn’t… stop thinking about it! I think they live under the boardwalk.”

The room was silent. Nicolette fixed him with an incredulous stare, her eyes tinged with a softness of worry after her brother’s seemingly nonsensical story. “A little man…?”

He was pathetic. His decision to not to tell his family had been compromised at the slightest bit of pressure from his sister. But, there was no going back now. “A little man.” He implored.

“Okay…” she started slowly, then cocked her head, “You're sure you’re not sick?”

Gio wiped a hand down his face with a tired groan as his cheeks turned even redder for a different, embarrassed reason. “Whatever,” he mumbled, and strictly pointed at the door, “Get out so I can go to sleep. If you want to actually listen, find me in the morning.”

Nicolette rolled onto her feet, resigning to let whatever tall-tale Gio was telling settle for the night. “Fine, fine.” She shrugged and pulled the door open, stepping into the hallway — but not without turning in a sharp about-face to leave her brother with a final threat, “Expect to hear from me tomorrow.”

He closed the door behind her, an unamused expression atop his still-rosy cheeks. With the quiet click of the door handle closing, he flopped heavily onto his mattress. For a moment, he stared blankly at the ceiling, an image of the little man forming in his memory to play back the motions of the night. He wanted to laugh. Sharing a granola bar with a stranger past midnight is a novelty story to begin with, but for that stranger to be a fraction of Gio’s own height was taking the story to an even further, funnier degree.

He could feel his smile crack. It was funny. Gio quietly laughed to himself as he changed into his pajamas and began his nightly routine — silently down the hall, so as to not alert his parents, or possibly his sister again, who uncharacteristically kept her door open a crack as if to listen for any suspicious, brotherly noises. He thought of the little man in their home, wherever that may be, following a routine just the same as Gio’s as they prepared for bed. He hoped they enjoyed the peanut. And he hoped the chunk of granola bar would hold them over for a while, since it looked like a Thanksgiving turkey in their arms.

He kicked up his bedsheets and slid beneath them, finally placing his glasses on the bedside table for the night with an exhausted sigh. Tomorrow, he’d have to find time in the night when he could convince his family to give him some space as he sat on the deck.

That was, if the little stranger even came to visit.

#borrowers #g/t #g/t writing #gt #giant/tiny #weld #gio #nico #oc stuff #writing #under the boardwalk mentioned #hashtag fan.

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bepisconsumer · 1 year ago

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Germ Theory Ver. 2.0.0 is here!!!

Hey folks! The team and I have been working tirelessly in the background to update Germ Theory to give YOU the best sickness features! Today marks the release of version 2.0, and we're real excited to share with you the fruits of our labor. Hope you enjoy! (Non-refundable)

Changelog:

-added macroscopic Germs. These act the same as microscopic germs, they can just range in size from about 1 mm to 5 cm in diameter. During playtesting we found that the macroscopic Germs faced some unique challenges in actually entering the body, so to compensate they were given a small buff. All macroscopic Germs look like edible silly putty and taste like mildly overcooked rice in order to increase the chance of ingestion.

-added Stat trackers. These items are attachable to any non-functional body part. They will keep a running tally of how many germs enter your bloodstream, as well as how many your white blood cells destroy. Additionally, you can purchase antibody production trackers that will keep count of the antibodies you produce that bind to a specific type of virus/bacteria (tax deductible)

-fixed a bug where some viruses were abusing the physics engine to clip through membranes without the necessary receptor keys unlocked

-tried to remove the flu again, but at this point I'm not sure we're ever actually going to succeed

-buffed hand sanitizer so it kills 100% of germs. It also dissolves significant amounts of skin cells to counteract the raw power it now wields (complete dissolution of a mouse corpse was timed at 4 hours)

-added tax evasion

-hand washing no longer involves rubbing your hands together. Now you just wave them under the water stream for about 30 seconds each.

-fixed a bug that allowed chicken pox to remain in the body and recur later in life as shingles

#macroscopic Germs is definitely the most unhinged thought that has ever crossed my mind

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oubliette-odette · 1 year ago

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The Reluctance of Love Pt. 16

Bless you all for your patience as I wrestled through weeks of illness. Gotta love the holidays for all the little family get togethers that happen where people share their lovely germs.

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 Word Count: 2257 (average 17 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, homophobia, fantasy racisms. Steamy scenes will come to those who are patient. :) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil.

I felt a soft touch on my arm and I whirled around to see Commander Gideon.

“The festivities are ending, you haven’t much time before you’re expected to leave.” He said, he turned and invited me to look back over to the other side of the room where the Duke was deep in a discussion with another older gentleman. The girl and Altan were still standing with them. I looked away.

“I will leave soon.” I said. “May I say goodbye?”

Gideon looked at me with a strange glint in his eyes. I couldn’t read him. His hand was on his hilt and I felt like I should brace for something bad.

Instead he took my arm and said softly, no louder than a whisper. “Come with me.”

Commander Gideon was the closest man who would equal my own brute strength and I feared resisting him in that moment. I followed him across the floor. We passed small gatherings of people and their heads swiveled around and then immediately up to to gawk at me. I saw Altan’s stare in the crowd and felt the distress in him.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Hush, not yet.” He replied.

I looked back and Doxxah gave a small nod at me. I didn’t know what I was supposed to interpret that to mean, but I trusted all was fine if they didn’t seem alarmed.

I was pulled out of the Great Hall and into a hallway that was not lit. I was swallowed by the soft, heaviness of velvet curtains. Typically darkness was not something that inhibited me, orcs could see well in the dark. The room was magicked somehow and I could make out nothing in the darkness of the room.

“I understand the Duke intends for you to leave by tomorrow.” He said, his voice was low, little more than a rumble in my ears.

I nodded, but realized in the darkness that he likely couldn’t see. “Yes. I am not to see Altan again once I leave.” Or I will be dead. Those were the words I couldn’t speak aloud. I was scared of death, but even more so dying alone without my family ever knowing.

The Commander hummed in response. “You should know that The Duke is using you both for his own gain. He means to send Altan from Berdusk to another city north of here, a place called Triel. You were not to know of it in hopes that the two of you would not find each other even if you should pursue one another.”

“What does he gain from us being apart?” I asked.

“I have learned that the Hilmar family, since before Taleisin, has accrued many debts. They are a family of noble standing, but their money was not managed well. Altan’s father chose a marriage of convenience to help assuage debts, but the Elves of Evermeet - the Lady Telmira Hinrathri - would not agree to aid the Duke when they learned his true nature.”

“Is that why the Duke seems to hold so much resentment for Altan and his mother?” I asked. “Altan told me he was not told where his mother was buried, as leverage for the Duke to control him.”

“Aye” The Commander replied. “The Duke uses information and blackmail to leverage people to aid him. Though they are in debt, he has been able to stave many repercussions because he possesses information on everyone. His access to information and secrets is unfounded.”

“So this arranged marriage,” I said, my head spinning. “Is it another attempt to pay off the debt?”

“The young woman that Lord Altan has been betrothed to is the daughter of a nobleman from Waterdeep. They are considered one of the richest families in Waterdeep. It would behoove me to believe that this arrangement is another attempt to decrease those debts. And The Duke will use his own son - one he struggles to control - to leverage the deal. You were the unfortunate victim of this situation.”

“What are your intentions?” I asked. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I have many reasons that I wish to see you free, alive and with the young lordling, but time does not permit me to go into all of them. But as Commander of Berdusk’s garrison, I believe it is my honor-bound duty to assure that the leaders of this city remain honourable as well. I have been performing my own personal investigations, and - regrettably - your arrival has aided me greatly in gaining collateral against the Duke.” I felt his hand on my arm, “But I must wait to make my move, and I will not let you or the young lord suffer before my work is finished. I’m going to see that the two of you make it out tonight alive and unseen.”

“What?” I asked, my heart skipped a beat.

“Stay here and wait.” He said. “No one will see you here.” His commands were simple, direct. I obeyed by saying nothing and staying exactly where I was.

The Commander left and I stood in the dark. I wondered if I was about to be taken to my death or if I was to be surprised with something more friendly.

I waited with hopeful, bated breath that Commander Gideon was a friend and that I hadn’t sealed my fate to a traitor.

I was rewarded when I heard in the darkness the soft familiar exhale of my merad, my heart and the shuffling as he struggled through the dark.

“Drun?” He breathed out.

“Here.” I managed and I reached out in the dark. “I’m here.”

His hands collided into mine and I clasped onto them quickly and tightly. “You’re here.” He breathed aloud. Suddenly his arms were around me and he was holding me. My arms instinctively wrapped around him and pulled him to me. We held each other in the darkness in the silence and said nothing. I heard his breathing, a soft shallow pulse as he buried his head into my chest and squeezed. The panic, the fear, the rage everything I had faced down the last few weeks, it vanished from my mind as I held him. My beloved, my companion, my mate.

All of the beautiful words of beauty that had ever been invented or created for art and poetry, I understood them all to be for Altan. My Altan. There were not enough words to make it clear what I felt when he was near me. To hold him in my arms was my joy, my honour.

“I must insist that we get the two of you out of here as soon as possible” Commander Gideon’s voice interrupted us. I felt the curtains shift around us and I felt the presence of him near.

“Where?” I asked. My heart was beating fast inside me and I was eager to leave. My arms did not betray holding my love as I searched the dark for Gideon.

“Perhaps some help?” Doxxah’s voice cut through the dark and I swiveled my head to follow it. I heard the sound of a door opening and faint, dim light revealed the entrance to a door that led downstairs. Doxxah was holding a torch that illuminated the dark hallway that we found ourselves, which I caught Commander Gideon standing next to us.

“Doxxah?” Altan exclaimed. He traded looks between Gideon and the Dragonborn and gasped. “I should have known you’d be involved somehow. How long have you had all this planned?”

“Questions later.” The Commander said gently and pushed us towards the door.

I caught a cold draft as we made our way down. Doxxah followed us down and gestured to two large packs sitting on the floor. “Some gear for the two of you. It’s got enough rations for about a week. And a cinnamon roll for you, young lord. Best of luck to the both of you.” They said cheekily.

I felt Altan’s hands on my arm and I looked down to look at him. His own expression reflected the same shock and confusion.

“Why would you do this?” Altan asked.

Doxxah shrugged. “Commander Gideon and I have many reasons to see the two of you free. We haven’t the time to get into it. You’ll need to follow this underground channel all the way to the end. It opens up just outside the perimeter of Berdusk. You’ll be about 20 miles away from the Reaching Woods, if you follow the river, you’ll eventually get to the woods. Use those woods if you must to conceal yourself from anyone who may pursue you. From that point forward, you decide where you must go.”

Commander Gideon stood at the top of the steps “I will do my best to delay anyone pursuing you, but eventually the Duke will likely send part of my garrison to pursue you both. I do not believe he will be merciful to either of you, should he catch you. Haste should be your focus. Haste and stealth.”

Altan looked at each of them and bowed low before them. “Thank you, Doxxah, thank you Commander. We are in your debt.”

“And I shall not forget it. Now go.” Doxxah’s voice was light, friendly, betraying the danger of this situation. They handed me the torch, which I held tight like a vice. “I hope I will see you both again someday under happier times. And Drunrag, remember, no matter what, don’t give up the fight. Fight for what you treasure.”

I nodded at Doxxah, “I will.''

I turned towards the Commander, giving him a slight nod which he returned in kind. Then I took ahold of Altan’s hand - so small and so perfect - and pulled him towards me as we suddenly broke into a run. While holding his hand, I spared a moment to exult over how wonderful that felt.

We didn’t spare a moment to speak or even look at each other, we simply ran. The torch flickered furiously as we pounded through. The tunnel looked like it had been built many, many years before, the ground was mere dirt and the tunnels were held up by lumber. The air was musky, a bit damp in place and the air was thin and faint. We found ourselves panting furiously as we ran.

I found that my pace was far faster than Altan’s and my legs being longer I realized I was practically dragging him behind me. He finally pulled me back and with gasping breaths exclaimed. “Drunrag, I cannot keep this pace.”

I stopped and took in large, swallowing breaths as I watched him slump and lean against the tunnel wall.

“I’m sorry.” I said, “I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head, “Don’t apologize, dear.” He managed a weak smile and he looked up at me. Already his eyes were brighter than before and I caught the glimmer of mischief in that smile. “You were only making haste as the Commander instructed. Only my legs are much shorter than yours.” He laughed weakly. “Just let me catch my breath and we will continue.”

“Would you…”I started, then hesitated.

He eyed me curiously. “Yes? Go on.”

“Shall I carry you?”

His eyes widened and he laughed nervously. “And then what would we do when you collapse from exhaustion?” He shook his head, “No, Drun, I will manage, maybe just set yourself at a nice jog?”

I braved a shy smile, “I can do that.”

He grinned, “You’re truly remarkable, Drun. I can’t quite believe this. I didn’t see this happening for us.” He broke into a laugh. “I hadn’t expected our running away to feel so exciting. Even though I’m terrified and I’m not sure what we’re even doing, I also feel like laughing. You’re here with me and we’re running away. Drun…does it feel real to you?”

I shook my head, “Not yet.” I didn’t think it would until I knew we were both safe. Yes, Altan was here in front of me. Yes we had managed to get out of the Duke’s Hall with help from some inside friends. But I didn’t know what that meant yet, or where we would be. How safe would our future be if the Duke is desperate to see Altan married and absolve him of his debt? I didn’t know the answers to so many questions yet, but I could admit that we were one step closer to whatever we were dreaming for ourselves and our future.

“Shall we continue?” I asked after a few minutes.

He gulped and nodded slowly. He reached for my hand again and squeezed it. “I’m ready.”

We began to move again, with urgency in our steps, but I held back and controlled my pace. We didn’t run, we both knew that we needed to save as much of our energy as we could should we need it.

“Do you think your father knows of this place?” I asked.

“I wasn’t even aware of it. And I’ve explored those halls since I was young, I thought I knew every secret nook and passage.” He confessed. “This had to have been built for the protection of whatever noble family lives in the Hall as an escape from danger, so possibly he’s aware of it. What I’m wondering is if my father would expect us to use it.” He looked up at me. “What if at the end of this tunnel he’s waiting for us?”

I met his gaze, “I’ve been thinking the same.”

“Do we surrender?”

I shook my head, Doxxah’s words in my head. “No, we will fight back.” I stopped and reached for the chain that held the vial and lifted it from my neck and held it in my hand. “This vial…it’s able to bring back lordhovid if we need it.” I let it dangle between us.

“What’s in it?” His eyes followed the dangling vial, “Is it blood?”

I nodded, “It’s my blood mixed with those from my ancestors. Once drunk, it will return the lust to both of us. If we are separated, it may be the only way that we can find each other again. I want you to have it.”

He reached out his hand and I let the vial drop into them. He held the vial delicately.

“We should only use it if it becomes an emergency.” I advised. “Once drunk, there will be no way to remove the lust until it is acted upon.”

“Meaning…” He looked up at me, daring to look shy and coy. “We mate?”

I flinched at those words, I still hated the sound of them. But I nodded.

He brought it over his head and let it settle onto his chest. He looked down at it. “All of this time…you’ve felt nothing for me from lordhovid…and you still did all of this for me?”

I felt as if my face was starting to burn. I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I won’t lie and say I haven’t been confused about what all of this means and what I want. I’m still scared, but…” I couldn’t form the words, and the thought of trying to make sense of all of it in this dark, dank space didn’t feel right.

Altan’s grip on the vial was tight and he looked down at it with a unique smile. “I think I understand.”

I wanted to smile, but the reality that our window of escape grew smaller as each second passed, I cleared my throat and said, “We should continue onward.”

With hand in hand, we found ourselves picking up the pace and heading onward.

Want to be updated on new chapters? DM me to be added to the tag list!

@eltrolodecadadia

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variousqueerthings · 2 years ago

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Episodes in which Hawkeye sleeps/tries to sleep (not counting times where being tired is just talked about, or anytime I’ve forgotten)

From this list (which may have gaps, I speedran through every episode, I could’ve missed things) it seems as if season 1 has the most episodes in which sleep is either had, attempted/disturbed, or otherwise awoken from, with nine episodes, followed by season 7, with eight (at a mild stretch, as you’ll see)

Seasons 8 and 11 feature the least episodes, with four each (although of course s11 has less episodes overall)

The average of episodes appears to be six, with seasons 2, 3, 5, and 10 all having six episodes

Episodes which feature the most moments of some kind of sleep are: Hawk’s Nightmare (the obvious winner), followed by Sticky Wicket, Promotion Commotion, The Joker is Wild

Season 1.

To Market To Market: Hawkeye and Trapper are awoken by Radar to enact the oak desk heist

Cowboy: Hawkeye is awoken by Radar for surgery on cowboy after having just fallen asleep

Henry Please Come Home: Hawkeye, Trapper, and Oliver are awoken early in the morning for calisthenics

Germ Warfare: Hawkeye is half-asleep on a chair, when Trapper awakens him so they can draw Frank’s blood

Dear Dad: Hawkeye and Trapper say goodnight after a successful prank against Margaret and Frank + Hawkeye exhaustedly finishes a letter to his dad and appears to drift asleep while in a Santa outfit

Dear Dad Again: Frank keeps Hawkeye and Trapper awake by getting drunk

The Long-John Flap: Hawkeye tries to sleep in his warm long-johns, but is compelled to give them. Later on he refuses to fall for Trapper’s pathetic coughing a second time

Sticky Wicket: Hawkeye is awoken because his patient is worsening + later on tries to sleep in a supply tent but is disturbed + awakens in realisation of how to help his patient

Showtime: Hawkeye falls asleep during a USO performance

Season 2.

Divided We Stand: Hawkeye and Trapper are awoken for a secret meeting with Henry + everyone is awoken much too early in the morning

Dr Pierce and Mr Hyde: after spending the episode unable to sleep for several days, Hawkeye is drugged so that he can get some rest

Carry On Hawkeye: Margaret enters the tent and finds Hawkeye in bed, possibly having been about to sleep

The Incubator: Hawkeye and Trapper wake up severely hungover after a party

Officers Only: Hawkeye is awoken by Radar to attend to a patient after having only just fallen asleep

Crisis: Everyone is trying to get to sleep in groups within one tent (gender divided), due to a lack of supplies and severe cold

Season 3.

Rainbow Bridge: Hawkeye and Trapper fall asleep despite being on-leave, due to exhaustion

Officer of the Day: Hawkeye attempts to sleep several times, but isn’t allowed to, as he has been declared “officer of the day”

Iron Guts Kelly: Hawkeye and Trapper are awoken by Margaret, to help remove the body of the general in her tent

Springtime: Hawkeye expresses an intent to sleep and is later depicted having been clearly woken up by Mulcahy and leaving the Swamp

Adam’s Ribs: Hawkeye is awoken by Radar because his ribs have arrived in Korea

Aid Station: Hawkeye and Margaret seek comfort while at an aid station and fall asleep together

Season 4.

It Happened One Night: Hawkeye is awoken by Radar for a shift

The Late Captain Pierce: Hawkeye is awoken to take a call from his dad that he just misses + Hawkeye wakes up after his fake-wake

The Bus: Potter, BJ, and Hawkeye are sleeping in the bus, while Frank “keeps watch”

Of Moose and Men: Hawkeye sleeps in post-op after a difficult case + Hawkeye is resting outside when Frank disturbs him with a metal-detector

Der Tag: Hawkeye and BJ get drunk with Frank and tie a toetag to him, before falling asleep + later they stumble into bed after surgery

Season 5.

Bug Out: Hawkeye naps briefly against a wall

Out of Sight Out of Mind: Hawkeye is asleep when some nurses wake him up to help with a boiler

Hawkeye Get Your Gun: Hawkeye slumps in exhaustion after accidentally “hypnotising” himself to sleep

The Colonel’s Horse: Hawkeye and BJ are awoken by Margaret to take out her appendix

Hawk’s Nightmare: Hawkeye sleepwalks and has intense nightmares throughout

Hepatitis: Hawkeye is trying to sleep while BJ works out

Season 6.

Fade Out Fade In: Hawkeye is about to try to sleep, but is spooked by a fake snake that Charles put in his bed

Fallen Idol: Hawkeye gets very drunk after Radar gets hurt and is awoken while still hungover

The Winchester Tapes: Hawkeye falls asleep after long hours in O.R. and he is too tired to go on-leave

Comrades In Arms Part 2: Hawkeye and Margaret wake up after a night together

Tea and Empathy: Klinger wakes up Hawkeye so he can check on British patients in post-op

Your Hit Parade: Hawkeye and BJ camp out in Potter’s tent, due to a mass of patients

Dr Winchester and Mr Hyde: Hawkeye and BJ try to sleep, but Charles is high and loud

Season 7.

Commander Pierce: Hawkeye and BJ try to sleep but Charles is sick and loud + Hawkeye tries to sleep at Potter’s desk

Peace On Us: Hawkeye naps in a wheelchair

An Eye For A Tooth: stretching, but Hawkeye is practically falling asleep at the mess table, until Margaret fills too much sugar in his coffee

The Young and The Restless: Hawkeye falls asleep at the mess table + Hawkeye wakes up at 6am to find BJ reading

Hot Lips Is Back In Time: Hawkeye falls asleep at the officer’s club bar

CAVE: Hawkeye and Margaret have fallen asleep on gurneys after operating on a patient while being bombed. They wake up when the camp returns and then promptly go back to sleep

Ain’t Love Grand: Hawkeye is awoken in the middle of the night by a phonecall declaring that BJ’s patient is out of danger

The Party: Hawkeye’s slowly preparing for sleep, when they have to bug out

Season 8.

Mr and Mrs Who: Hawkeye is sleeping in post-op while waiting for a patient to get better

Yessir That’s Our Baby: The Swamprats are awoken by the cries of a baby

Heal Thyself: Hawkeye is trying to sleep, when he notices the interim doctor pacing outside

Dreams: Everyone in camp sleeps, and they have haunting and/or prophetic nightmares

Season 9.

The Best Of Enemies: Hawkeye sleeps after going through a traumatic experience

Father’s Day: The swamprats are awoken because their stolen beef is at risk of being discovered

Tell It To the Marines: Hawkeye is asleep in the OR after surgery

No Sweat: Hawkeye is woken up by BJ obsessively rereading a letter from Peggy

Bless You Hawkeye: Hawkeye is keeping everyone, including himself, awake with excessive sneezing

Season 10.

That’s Show Biz: Hawkeye and BJ are trying to sleep, but Charles and Klinger are mesmerised by a comedian

Twas the Night Before Christmas: The swamprats are all awoken by Potter + Hawkeye sleeps pressed against BJ’s back in Potter’s office

The Tooth Shall Set You Free: Hawkeye tries not to fall asleep at the mess-tent, after which he manages to get back to the Swamp and eventually get to bed

Pressure Points: Hawkeye awakens to a disgusting Swamp, because Charles has stopped cleaning

Where There’s A Will There’s A War: Hawkeye appears to be considering sleeping, but is disturbed by bombs

Promotion Commotion: Hawkeye and BJ are trying to sleep when Charles interrupts + Hawkeye is falling asleep at his a makeshift judges’ table + Hawkeye and BJ are awakened by Klinger telling them he’s been promoted

Season 11.

Trick or Treatment: a stretch, but Hawkeye and BJ are pretending to sleep, while giggling about pranking Charles

The Joker is Wild: Hawkeye is startled out of sleep by Charles finding a fake snake in his bed + Hawkeye tries to sleep within a barbed wire mini-compound he’s made to protect himself from BJ + Hawkeye and BJ wake up in the morning

Strange Bedfellows: Hawkeye and BJ (and everyone else) try to sleep, but Charles is snoring + Hawkeye and Charles because BJ talks in his sleep

As Time Goes By: The whole camp is awoken by wounded patients incoming

#mash #sleepy hawkeye #hawkeye pierce #love a list #me: i have no spoons #me: im gonna skim through every episode of mash

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darcyfangirlsfrequently · 2 years ago

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I Met You At the End of the World - chapter 4: All is Well (but I'm scared as hell that you won't like me)

Chapter summary: The Dirty Dozen case comes to a close, and Luke bids the BAU adieu, to the disappointment of many.

Chapter word count: 10,388

Total word count: 27,010

Can also be read here on Ao3

And I don't normally do this, but I'm tagging some people in this chapter: @hey-dw I know you exclusively read this on here and I don't want you to miss it! @a-potato-wearing-plaid I don't know if you follow this fic at all (I don't think so but you totally should because it's great and completely spoiler-free for you) but this is the chapter where Pretty Boy™ and Soft Boy™ meet and become friends and also there is a large Reid focus and also a lot of Soft Garvez™ that I think you'd enjoy

Luke and Tara had food in front of them they had no intention of really eating and martinis they were probably only going to take a sip or two from as they watched from their table as Reid entered the restaurant and sat down at the table that had been reserved for him and the woman he was meeting that night. Luke made eye contact with Morgan who was across the restaurant at the bar with JJ to confirm that they were all in position. Nothing could go wrong that night.

Luke watched as Reid fidgeted with his tie nervously—he wasn’t used to undercover work. Luke had offered to go in his place since he had plenty of experience with it, but he wasn’t a profiler, and they needed one to be the person going head-to-head with this woman. Reid placed a rose on the table—a request from the woman—and waited. All they could do now was wait.

They didn’t have to wait very long. A woman in a dark coat and teal dress with brown hair down to her chin walked up to him. “Spencer?” She could be heard asking through the microphone hidden behind Reid’s tie. Here she was. Cat Adams.

“Cat?” Reid responded.

“Hi!”

“Hi. Hello. Hi.”

Cat attempted to hug him. “It’s nice to finally—”

Reid backed away from the hug. “Oh! Sorry, I have a… kind of a germ thing. I’m kind of weird with hugs.”

“Oh,” Cat replied. “Sorry.”

They stood there silently for a moment, just standing there. The inaction made Luke uneasy. He knew Reid was nervous, but if his nerves accidentally caused him to do anything that might tip their hand… this night could go very poorly.

“Can I sit down?” Cat eventually asked.

Reid snapped right back into the moment. “Yes, please! Yeah, of course! Sit down!”

They both sat, and she took off her coat, placing it and her bag on the stretch of curved booth in between the two of them.

They were silent for a moment more, and Luke couldn’t see her face, but he imagined Cat was examining Reid and his facial expressions.

Cat was, again, the first one to break the silence. “First time doing this?”

“Yeah,” Reid replied, almost sound relieved. “I mean, yeah.”

“Yeah, I still get nervous too,” she said, as if to reassure him. Credit where credit is due, this woman was good at what she did. “Really, it wasn’t until an hour ago that I was like, wait, we’ve been trading emails back and forth but I still have no idea what this guy looks like.”

“Hence the…” Reid pointed to the rose on the table.

“I know, and then I was like, wait, he’s going to bring a red rose so we need to go to a nicer place, which is why I switched the restaurant at the last minute…”

“Not a problem at all,” Reid assured her, which was a bit of a lie. It had been a frustrating detail for the team, but one they were able to work with nonetheless.

“And now I need to change and put something nice on for this place,” Cat continued. “‘Cause I was totally underdressed and my whole wardrobe makes me look like a Kardashian.”

Luke scoffed and rolled his eyes. Sure, it does.

Tara smiled at his reaction, having had the same thought.

Reid must have made a face at the name “Kardashian,” because Cat asked, “You don’t know who that is, do you?”

“No, oh yeah,” Reid replied enthusiastically. “Robert Kardashian. He got OJ Simpson off. You don’t… you don’t look like his daughter.”

Luke pressed his lips together so he didn’t actually laugh out loud, but made a mental note to tell Penelope about this later, knowing she’d get a kick out of her beloved “Boy Wonder’s” little slip-up.

“Yeah, no,” Cat said. “I was making a joke. A bad one.”

“No, it was a good joke!”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“It was funny.”

They chuckled awkwardly and then, for the third time that evening, were silent. After a pause, Cat finally said, “Can we start over? Hi, I’m Cat.”

Reid was still laughing nervously. “Hi, hello. Hi, I’m… I’m Spencer.”

“It really is nice to meet you, in person, finally,” she told him, sounding incredibly sincere.

Reid nodded in response. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” Cat prodded. “Do you really have three PhDs?”

“Yes. Erm, yeah, I do, I have three PhDs.”

“What was your favorite book that you read last year?”

“Um, honestly, I’ve never read a book I didn’t love.”

Then, Cat said the one thing that got their evening started in earnest. “Tell me about your wife.” She rested her head on her hands casually, waiting for his response.

Poor Reid was instantly made nervous yet again. “If you don’t mind, I’d, er, I’d rather not talk about her.”

“Might as well get it out in the open, right?” Cat replied. “That’s why we’re here. How long have you been married?”

“Four years.”

“When is she due to give birth?”

“In a couple of months.” Reid leaned across the table then, and lowered his voice, but not enough that the microphone could no longer pick up the conversation. “Should we talk about price now, or…”

Cat leaned forward as well. “Slow down, tiger. What exactly are we negotiating here?”

“You know.”

Cat shrugged. “I want to hear you say it.”

There it was. There was a bit of the psychopath coming out. Forcing him to say what she already knew, giving herself all the power she could.

“To have her killed,” Reid whispered.

Cat remained silent for a moment, and Luke was almost certain she was smiling. People like her often did at this point.

“Let me see your ring,” she said.

Reid held out his left hand where his fake wedding band was sitting, and Cat reached over to twist it around his finger.

“You know what that is?” She asked him. “A noose. Only it doesn’t kill you all at once. It kills you slowly, day by day. You ever feel that way?”

Luke watched as Reid nodded and knew that he, along with everyone else on the team, was making note of Cat’s destructive views of marriage, likely stemming from her experience with the marriage of her parents, and likely contributing to her corrupted worldview.

“I feel that way all the time,” Reid said.

“Take it off,” Cat instructed.

“Why?”

“As a sign of your commitment,” she replied simply. “To me.”

Reid did as he was told, taking off the ring and handing it to her.

She turned the ring over in her hand, examining it as she did so.

“If she sticks to pattern, she’ll take him to a secondary location and kill him,” JJ said over their comms.

“We’re not going to let it get that far,” Rossi told her from his place at a booth on the opposite side of Reid and Cat that Luke and Tara were. He could see her completely if he looked over, while they could see him completely. “Hotch, do you have a visual?”

“Just hacked in,” came Penelope’s voice through their earpieces. She and Hotch were back at Quantico watching and monitoring remotely.

“All right Reid,” Hotch said. “We have you over her left shoulder. Do you copy?” Reid was supposed to cast a glance up at the security camera to confirm, and he must have, because then Hotch said, “All right, all agents stand by. Dr. Reid will give the green light. Don’t move until we have it.”

Cat was still playing with Reid’s ring. “24-karat?”

Reid nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”

“24 K… times four years… means this rign should be dinged and nicked, but this sucker is brand new.”

Luke’s heart dropped to his stomach. They hadn’t given him an artificially distressed ring? They hadn’t even attempted to make the ring look old? What were they doing?

“You’re not married,” Cat continued. She fiddled with something in her bag, and then Luke swore he could hear the sound of a gun clicking. Shit. This was not good.

“What was that?” Penelope asked over the comms, obviously having heard what Luke did. “Was that what I think it was?”

“Everybody hold,” Hotch instructed.

“Why are we here, Spencer?” Cat asked, voice still unnervingly light and calm.

Reid leaned forward again, and when he spoke, his voice was steady, even, and even slightly cold. It was made very obvious that his nerves that night had all been an act to get her feeling confident and make her drop her defenses. “We are here because you belong to a network of four hitmen who’ve been operating in the shadows of the Internet. You’re known as Miss 45. My team and I have been hunting you for months, and I knew that if I boxed you in, I could arrest you with as little resistance as possible.”

Luke knew that all of this was supposed to remain a secret from Cat until the end for obvious reasons, but flipping the tables like this would get the element of surprise back on their side. She was alone, and if she knew she was surrounded, she might be able to be convinced to give herself up.

“Your team being the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI?”

Luke and Tara stared at each other. She wasn’t supposed to know that. They hadn’t anticipated her knowing that.

“You guys are good,” Cat admitted. “You’re the only ones that got close to us.”

Well yeah, Luke wanted to tell her. Because you were stupid enough to go after one of their own.

“But we got kind of close to you too, didn’t we?” Cat asked Reid. She leaned forwards, closer to Reid and the mic she must know he had. “Hi, Penelope.”

Luke’s blood boiled at the mention of her name, but he toned down his reaction. He needed to avoid Tara finding out, and besides, he couldn’t let his feelings for her get in the way of his job. Not when his job was protecting her.

Penelope’s small gasp of fear could be heard on their comms, and Luke’s heart broke for her. She was so scared for herself already, and she was scared for Reid, this must all just be exacerbating that.

Cat sat up straighter. “Do you know why I’m so good at my job?”

“Because you kill without compunction or remorse,” Reid stated plainly.

“That only gets a girl so far in life,” Cat told him. “No, it’s because I think through every potential outcome, and then I plan accordingly. You see, I didn’t walk into your trap. You walked into mine.”

Reid remained silent.

“Where’s your head, Spencer?” She asked him. She slid along their curved booth until she was right up next to him, putting herself in everyone’s line of sight, barring Rossi. “What are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about entropy,” Reid answered.

Cat nodded, and put her hand on Reid’s chest and began moving it lower, looking for something.

“It’s the thermodynamic measure of the degradation of matter and energy in the universe. To put it another way—”

Cat found what she was looking for. “There’s your gun,” she said, pulling it out and taking it away from him.

With potentially the worst timing ever, the waiter approached them then. “Good evening.”

Undoubtedly knowing she had to get him away from them for whatever her plan was to continue, Cat acted quickly. “Hi, you know what? We’ve been having so much fun getting to know one another, we’ll let you know when we’re ready, okay? Thank you.”

The waiter nodded and left their table, unintentionally guaranteeing his own safety.

“Now that we got that out of the way,” Cat continued, sliding back over to her original place. “Will you do me a favor and tell Blondie and Baldie over there at the bar to disappear?” She looked right over at JJ and Morgan, blowing their cover.

“JJ, Morgan, stand down,” Hotch instructed through their earpieces.

The two got up and walked out of the restaurant, passing right by Cat and Reid’s table.

“Thanks for playing, guys,” Cat sing-songed after them.

“If she learns how many agents we have outside she’ll start shooting,” Hotch said. “Dave, get ready to take her out.”

“Yeah,” Rossi confirmed.

“Reid, do not let her get up from the table,” Hotch told him.

“All right, you’re in charge,” Reid said to Cat. Placing the control back in her hands would prevent any unexpected actions on her part. “Tell me what you want and I will see if I can get it here for you.”

“Anything I want?”

“Anything you want.”

“Like a million dollars in unmarked bills and maybe a plane to Aruba?”

“Is that what you want?”

“And you’ll say you’ll bring it here, but the real plan is to distract me from what is, I’m sure, an impressive law enforcement response just outside that door. Is that the plan?”

Reid smiled at her. “That’s the plan.”

What is he doing? Luke mouthed to Tara.

She shrugged in response. It was anyone’s guess at this point.

“Okay,” Cat said. “Let’s talk, but let’s talk about something interesting at least. Tell me about me.”

She had no idea that that was a mistake. Getting Reid to talk to her about her would only play into her psychopathy and narcissism, and it would give the power back to him.

“You?” Reid repeated before continuing. “You’re a black widow hitwoman. You specialize in seduction and you’re patient. You learn everything you can about the men you’re hired to kill, physically, psychologically, and emotionally, because you want them in as compromised a position as possible so they don’t see it coming when you pull the trigger.”

“And when I do it really well, they pull the trigger themselves.” She paused. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“Because I know what I want now. I want to play a game with you. You like games?”

“I do.”

“Do you win?”

“I always win.”

“Give it to me,” Cat insisted.

Reid handed over his phone.

“Okay, here’s my game. You have thirty minutes to answer every question I ask. And if you lie, I’ll know. Because I’ve spent the past ten years of my life studying men and their lies before I kill them. Do you believe me?”

“I do.”

She set the phone down in the middle of the table. “That was true, you’re getting this. Now here’s how we’ll know who wins at the end of thirty minutes: If you win, you’ll drag me out of here in handcuffs. But if I win, you will escort me out, like a gentleman, to make sure I exit safely. What do you say, Spencer? Think you can win this one?”

He leaned over the table to her, motioning that she do the same. “Considering everything you put Garcia and so many other people through,” he whispered dangerously, “you’re going to have to shoot me in the face before you walk out of here.”

“Game on.”

“Oh boy.” Penelope’s voice was wavering, fear for her friend evident. No one knew what was about to happen.

“What do you want to ask me?” Reid said to Cat.

“How you found me, of course. A professional learns from her mistakes.” With that, she started the timer.

The game was afoot.

“We got our big break in the case at the end of last year. I didn’t learn how big until I came back from some time off.”

“Why’d you take time off?”

Reid started to tell the story of coming back and meeting with Morgan and Savannah, getting some medical research from her, and collecting him for work.

“Stop,” Cat commanded.

“Why?”

“You still haven’t told me why you took time off.”

“It’s not relevant.”

“That’s not the game. The game is you answer every question I ask. Is it a secret?”

Reid shook his head. “No.”

“Is it dirty?”

“No.”

“Then tell me.” She strung the ‘me’ out, almost sounding like she was whining. Pleading. Begging.

“It’s not important to your story.”

“Out of curiosity, is it me you don’t want to tell or the people listening in?”

Reid looked down at the phone in the middle of the table. “Is this really how you want to spend your thirty minutes?”

“Yes,” she replied, not even skipping a beat to consider. But then she paused. And admitted, “No. Okay, so you were saying you showed up for work that morning and…”

“We learned that someone unexpected decided to talk.”

“And who would that be?”

***

Three weeks before

Hotch had called an emergency meeting, and Luke had anticipated being the first one to the Round Table Room, but he wasn’t. A man he had never met before was already there, studying files. This must be the famed Dr. Spencer Reid. Penelope had told Luke he’d be coming back that day. She was really excited about it, and so he was, by extension, happy on her behalf.

“Hey,” Luke said in greeting. “Luke. Alvez.”

“Oh hi!” The other man exclaimed. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Luke smiled at his correct assumption. “Ah. No hand-shaking, right? Your reputation precedes you.”

“Yeah. Did Morgan tell you?”

“Him and Garcia, actually. They both speak very highly of you.”

“Of you, too.”

The rest of the team filed in then, cutting their conversation short. Hotch and Penelope took their places at the front of the room as everyone else took a seat. Luke shot Penelope a comforting smile, and she returned one of gratitude.

Hotch turned on the presentation. “Brian Cochran from the NSA. I’ve placed him on a 24/7 lockdown at USP Terre Haute. The network has proven that they can kill anyone, anywhere, anytime, and now that they’ve targeted Garcia, we can’t afford to lose another lead. Cochran used one of the hitmen to target DEA Supervisor Graff.”

“But we can press him on that to get him to cooperate,” Morgan said.

“Well, fortunately, that won’t be necessary,” Hotch told him. “He had a breakdown in solitary confinement and he was already willing to make a deal.”

“We need to go talk to him,” Rossi declared.

“Garcia and I already did,” Hotch informed them.

“That is, we video-conferenced with him,” Penelope elaborated. “He was limited in what he could tell us about the hit people. He didn’t know their names, but he did know all of their areas of expertise.”

“How specific do they get?” Reid asked her. “Most successful hitmen are basically just Swiss Army Knives of murder.”

“Well, take the OG hit guy who got us into this mess, Giuseppe Montolo. Remember him? He was a genius at making hits look like an accident. The others, depends on what you’re looking for. Take the guy who’s still out there who’s responsible for shooting poor Mr. Graff. He’s known simply as The Sniper. He can make a T-zone shot from over 2,000 metres.”

“Which means he’s ex military,” Luke said. “Not necessarily ours, but he’s definitely trained. Has to be. You don’t get that good anywhere else. I’ve worked with really good snipers in the past, all of them are current or ex-military.”

“So who’s number two?” Tara asked.

“That would be The Chemist,” Penelope told her. “He works with poison. He specializes in hits that don’t leave a trace.”

“He sounds delightful,” Rossi quipped. “What about number three?”

“That would be The Bomber,” Penelope answered, using the remote to switch to pictures of an absolutely devastating bombing site. “According to Cochran, he’s responsible for this. It’s a chemical fire in Tianjin, China. Apparently a bureaucrat didn’t pay his bribe on time.”

“All that’s Conspiracy Theory Garbage,” JJ argued.

“But what is credible” Hotch replied, “is Cochrans insistence that he was trained by Mossad. Jack Garrett’s following up on leads.”

“That leaves us with number four,” Penelope continued. “The one with the highest body count of them all.”

“And who’s that?” Reid asked.

***

“Me!” Cat answered.

Reid nodded. “Yes.”

“Wow, that was really impressive,” Cat said sarcastically. “Yeah, the way you just made all those brilliant deductions with all that information that was just handed to you on a silver platter. Quick question: are you guys really profilers or are you just lucky? Because this, what I’m about to say, is profiling.” She cleared her throat before continuing. “The reason you took time off from work was to deal with the same girl who broke your heart.”

“No,” Reid answered quickly.

“The death of a parent, then.”

Luke rolled his eyes. Some ‘profiling’ this was if she was just guessing at different reasons someone might need to take time off work.

Reid hesitated slightly this time. “No.”

“Ah, hello, I’m getting close. It’s Mom or Dad in the billiard room with the candlestick… oh you’re mad at me aren’t you?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Yes you are, I can tell.”

“No offense,” Reid said to her, “but you’re not really worth getting angry at.”

Luke’s eyes went wide. Goddamn.

Cat changed the subject. “So you figured out what the four of us did, and then what?”

“We profiled that you operated as spokes on a wheel. Somehow it had to be centralized, how you got jobs, who paid you. Somebody did all that for you.”

“You found The Snowman, didn’t you?”

***

“Great, so who’s this Snowman jagoff?” Rossi asked. Penelope had just explained that central role to the network.

“Cochran says he’s the IT expert,” Hotch informed them. “He’s the key to the whole network.”

“But if he set it up, he’s not going to tear it down just because we ask nicely,” Morgan remarked.

“He will,” Hotch refuted, “because he was kidnapped by one of the hitmen and held against his will in a safe house.”

“I wonder how that feels,” Penelope snipped.

Luke bit down on his lips to keep from laughing.

“Even if they have him under duress, he’s still going to be impossible to find,” JJ said.

“We will find him,” Hotch stated, “with this.” He held up the USB he’d confiscated off Cochran when he’d been arrested and then placed it down on the center of the table.

***

“Woah, woah, woah,” Cat interrupted. “I’m confused. What just happened there?”

“When we arrested Cochran, we found a flash drive, one that gave us access to a specific shadow of the Darknet, one we didn’t even knwo existed. Garcia used it to find the website The Snowman set up for all of you. Once we had the website, we had geography, specifically, the safehouse you were keeping him in. So we waited until the shift change when we knew we could take two of you down at once.”

***

Penelope had hacked into The Snowman’s server and was live-streaming a video of herself to him. She was holding up flashcards with messages on them, so she could silently talk to him. On these cards, she explained who she was and how she could help him. And, most importantly, told him to get down as the rest of the team stormed the building.

Luke and JJ ran in, and she was able to take down The Sniper. Unfortunately, The Chemist killed himself with his own poison before they were able to aprehend him.

“What is this?” Barry Winslow, The Snowman, asked JJ and Luke as they undid his chains. “What’s going on?”

Luke patted him on the back as they exited the room. “Welcome to the FBI, kid.”

***

“Well, well, well,” Cat said. If Luke didn’t know any better, he’d say she sounded impressed. “You took The Chemist and The Sniper out of commission, huh?”

“Did you know?” Reid asked her.

“I knew something was off. They didn’t bid on some contracts. And this isn’t the kind of job where you get to take time off to be with your… mother? Is it your mom? It’s gotta be your mom.”

Reid didn’t answer her.

“Why’d you take time off from the FBI?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“Spencer,” Cat insisted. “Why did you take time off from the FBI?”

“You can ask me as many times you want,” he replied in a cool voice, “and you can continue to waste your time, but I’m still not going to tell you.”

“Then you’re cheating and I don’t like cheaters.”

Luke rolled his eyes. She sounded like a petulant child.

“You don’t get everything you want just because you’re pointing a gun at me under a table,” Reid said, practically scolding her. “You’re not the first killer to point a gun at me, you’re not even the first woman to point a gun at me. Sorry.”

“You’re really going to take this all the way, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“So am I.”

“Dave, go,” Hotch ordered through the earpieces.

“Look at my face,” Cat said. “Does it look like I’m bluffing?”

“I know you’re not bluffing.”

Rossi got up and started to move towards the pair just as Cat slid over in the booth, putting Reid directly in between her and Rossi, blocking the latter’s line of sight.

“I’m going to ask you this one more time,” she told him. “Before you say no, I want you to consider something.”

A sharp ringing went through their earpieces then, and Luke winced.

“She muffled the mic,” Penelope told them. “We lost audio.”

“Damn,” Luke whispered.

He couldn’t hear what Cat and Reid whispered to each other, but she must have seen Rossi and threatened him, because he could then hear Reid say, at a normal volume, “I’ll tell you.”

She removed her hand from his tie.

“Rossi, stand down,” Reid instructed, not breaking eye contact with Cat. He turned to the older man then, and said, “Please.”

Rossi turned, and walked away.

“My mom has schizophrenia,” Reid finally admitted to Cat. “The doctor has changed her medication, which seemed to agitate her, so I went to the treatment center to help her.”

Luke’s heart sank for the man he considered a friend. He hadn’t known that, and that kind of news was just devastating. No one deserved that.

“That’s it?” Cat asked.

“That’s it,” Reid confirmed.

“You just risked your life over mommy’s pills?”

“It’s the truth.”

“It’s part of the truth,” Cat decided. “You’re holding something back. Here’s what I’m going to do.” She reached over to the phone in the middle of the table. “I’m going to penalize you by adding ten minutes. And keep in mind that the only reason why you’re not dead right now is because I did learn something important.”

“Oh really?” Reid asked, doubting her statement. “What’s that?”

Cat grinned and gestured widely to the space around them. “Your backup! I flushed them out! It’s just you and me now.”

Smarking, Tara lifted her glass to Luke. “Guess again, bitch.”

Luke returned a smirk of his own, and tapped his glass against hers. Tara was the newest to the team, and Luke wasn’t even officially on it, so of course she wouldn’t recognize them.

“So,” Cat said. “When we left off, the score was you had two of our guys and The Snowman. You must have thought you were home free.”

“No,” Reid told her. “If anything, the case was harder.”

***

“I can’t tell you that much about them,” Barry Winslow told the team. “It’s not like we had heart-to-heart conversations while they handcuffed me to a computer.”

“Do you know any of their names?” Tara asked him.

“No. But I know their bank accounts.”

“How long do you think we have before the other two realize the network’s been compromised?” Reid asked.

“Two days, maybe. They like being independent contractors, so they always work jobs separately. And, uh, they rely on me to coordinate all their online traffic.”

“Which I can help fake,” Penelope offered.

Brian nodded. “Yeah. We have the facade covered on our end, but they also have back channel communications that I can’t account for. Especially The Bomber.”

“Why him?” Rossi asked.

“I don’t know,” Barry replied honestly. “But all I know is when they would rotate watching over me, he never showed.”

“I know why,” JJ said. “Because he’s paranoid. Most explosives experts are. Blow everything up, you live in fear that you’re next.”

“We need to lure out the hitwoman,” Hotch stated. “If we can take her alive, she’d lead us to The Bomber.”

“We have to give her a target worth coming out of hiding for,” Morgan said.

“That means me, doesn’t it?” Penelope asked timidly.

“No,” Hotch, Luke, and Morgan answered simultaneously and firmly.

“Sir,” she tried to argue.

“Garcia, that’s not going to happen,” Morgan told her in a voice that bore no room for disagreement.

“It’s not safe to leave you there exposed like that,” Luke explained gently.

Hotch turned to face Barry. “You have a record of all the kills she was paid for?”

“I have records of everything,” Barry confirmed.

“All right, even a contract killer can have victimology,” Hotch mused. “A pattern of which she’s not aware. We need to find that.”

It didn’t take long for Barry and Penelope to find the pattern after they knew what they were looking for. They found three men, all of whom wanted their wives killed. However, those hits had not gone the way the buyers had intended. The hitwoman had taken their money and then killed the men who hired her. Additionally, all three men had children. They were able to deduce that those specific kills were personal to her because something similar happened to her when she was a child. They decided they needed to lure her out using a made up client that fit that victimology.

“I can do it,” Luke offered without missing a beat. “I have undercover experience, it’ll be as easy as breathing for me.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Hotch told him. “Really, I do, and I appreciate your undercover experience, but to guarantee this will lead us to The Bomber, we need a profiler to be the one talking face-to-face with her, and unfortunately you aren’t trained for that. However, your undercover experience is still invaluable, and I would greatly appreciate your help planning the operation.

Luke nodded. “Whatever I can do.”

“I can do it,” Reid said then. “I pretend to be that kind of client. I’m going to pretend to be a husband who wants his pregnant wife dead.”

“Well I’d want to kill you if you told me that,” JJ remarked.

“Exactly,” Reid said. “Then all we have to do is set the right meeting spot. A bar or a restaurant that we can control so the odds are better of us taking her alive.”

Hotch nodded. “That’s our best strategy.”

***

“But there was one flaw,” Cat said. “You. You’re not married, and you don’t have children.”

“I’m the person on my team whose closest in age to you, and I knew that if I lost control of the situation, you’d be more likely to negotiate with a peer.”

“You have zero control here,” Cat said bitingly. “None. I outflanked you from the beginning.”

Reid considered this. “Well, some of your moves were pretty obvious.”

“Such as?”

“Such as showing up armed, such as changing the venue at the last moment…”

“I needed a restaurant full of innocents in case this was a trap.”

“If you really suspected this was a trap, then why show up at all? Even when you first laid eyes on me, from the bar, from outside, from wherever you were, you should have seen through me and kept moving but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because you can’t get to the man you really want to hurt, so you need to hurt any man who reminds you of him.”

Luke knew Reid’s words had affected Cat, because she hesitated before answering him, and when she did, her voice was slightly shaky. “That’s kind of boilerplate psychology, isn’t it? I’m just another girl with daddy issues.”

“You’d be surprised how many killers do what they do because of their parents. If it’s so boilerplate, then why don’t we test that theory? How hard did you look for him?”

“Very hard.”

“And how disappointed were you when you realized that you will never find him? You needed some other outlet for your rage, and for a while this worked, but it also tripped you up. Can I tell you a little secret?” When Cat didn’t respond, Reid took it as his sign to continue. “Everything eventually falls apart. The trick is accepting when it’s over.”

Cat stared at him.

Reid stared at her.

The timer went off.

“Except it ain’t over, is it?” Cat asked.

“Do you really think I’m just going to let you walk out of here?”

“You profiled so much about me, except, you forgot to ask the most important question. Why would I make you sit here for thirty minutes?”

“Because you’re stalling.”

“Then you don’t know me at all. Do you think I’d show up here without an escape plan? Or is that what just another girl with daddy issues would do? Maybe if you hadn’t fallen victim to your own gender bias, and yes, all men have gender bias, even you, Dr. Reid, you would have recognized that your entire strategy was based on one faulty detail. Can you see it?”

“You’re not here alone,” Reid realized.

“And my partner? Less paranoid than you think.”

“You planted a bomb in the building.”

Luke and Tara glanced at each other, unsure of what they should do. Stand by and wait for instruction? Try to find the bomb?

“We’re on the move,” JJ said through their earpieces.

“I’m going to go look for the owner,” Tara whispered to Luke. “Stay here.”

He nodded.

“I didn’t,” Cat corrected. “My job was to keep your entire team focused on us, so he could do what he does best.”

Luke realized that Cat had, once again, unwittingly made a detrimental error. She had wanted the entire team’s focus on her… but then got rid of three team members, leaving them free to focus on anything else, including whatever The Bomber had set up.

“Hotch,” came JJ’s voice again. “We’ve got inter-connected C-4 charges down here.”

“How many?” He asked her.

“There’s six charges,” Rossi replied.

“They’re connected to the city’s gas line,” Morgan added. “She could take out the whole block.”

“There are innocent people here,” Reid pleaded with Cat.

“Yes, there are,” she agreed. “So let me remind you what we’re playing for. Not only will I walk out of here, but you will make sure I leave safely. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’ve won. You need to pay attention to this part. I’m going to tell you the terms of my victory. I want you to move all of your backup away from this building. If I walk out of here and see one cop, I will incinerate us all.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Spencer,” she warned.

“It’s not me. What you’re asking takes time.”

Cat grabbed Reid by the tie and pulled him close, her face right by the mic. “This is to whoever’s in charge: Unless you guys want to be responsible for the biggest FBI disaster since Waco, you will back off now.” She let go of the tie and whispered, “Watch this.”

Hotch was too busy trying to deal with the bomb to address Cat’s demands. “JJ, say again. The bomb has a cellphone trigger?”

“That’s right,” she confirmed. “All she has to do is call the number and boom.”

“Can you jam the signal?” Hotch asked, most likely to Penelope.

“Not from here, no,” came her reply, her voice tight with fear.

“The failsafe will still kick in,” Morgan told them. “Same outcome. Can’t move ‘em, can’t submerge ‘em.”

“It’ll take us hours to get the gas turned off on the whole block,” Hotch said mournfully. “If we alert anyone, then the panic could set her and the bomb off.”

“SWAT’s on the radio with the bomb squad,” Rossi informed them. “They say our only chance is to get our hands on that cellphone. If we shut down the trigger, we can remove the charges.”

“Alvez,” Hotch called.

“Go ahead, Hotch,” Luke replied.

“Does she have a cellphone with her?”

Lifting his glass to his mouth so the wide brim would slightly shield his eyes, Luke looked over at Cat and Reid discreetly. “I don’t think so. I didn’t see her pull one out. The Bomber was setting this up while we were all up here. I think he’s holding the trigger.”

“We’re combing the block. He could be anywhere though. Where’s Lewis?”

“She went to go find the owner and inform the staff of the situation,” Luke told him. “She just texted me, she said she told the staff to calmly tell each patron there was an unforeseen problem in the kitchen that cannot be resolved, their dinner has been paid for, and they need to leave at their earliest possible convenience, as well as instructing them to leave Cat and Reid alone.”

“Good,” Hotch replied. “It’ll minimize if not completely eliminate mass panic.”

The servers started coming out in droves then, and Cat noticed. “Look at that, there they go.”

Reid started to explain. “All we want to do—”

“Is minimize the collateral damage,” Cat cut him off. “I get it. I’m not mad. It’ll give me the cover I need to slip out. I just need to know it’s clear, so do me a favor and tell your boss that nobody leaves until it’s safe for me to.”

“Reid, perimeter agents are pulling back,” came Hotch’s voice. “You have to let her go.”

Reid’s face looked pained.

“Well?” Cat demanded.

“Repeat,” Hotch said. “All agents do not engage or pursue until the bomb is defused.”

Reid still said nothing.

“Spencer…” Cat said, audibly growing annoyed.

Finally, he said, “You can leave.”

Cat got up, took her bag and coat, and moved to leave.

“But you won’t,” Reid said, stopping her in her tracks.

“I’m sorry?”

“Double or nothing I can get you to sit back down.”

“Reid, what are you doing?” Hotch asked, unnerved at this sudden turn of events.

“Wow,” Cat drawled. “Now you’re stalling.”

“You played your trump card, but I have one too.”

Cat wasn’t taking the bait. Turning away, she said, “Thanks for dinner. I had fun.”

“I found your father,” Reid called out to her.

If Luke had taken a sip of his drink at that moment, he would have choked on it.

Cat’s reaction was similar. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned back around. “No you didn't.”

“Look at my face,” Reid replied. “Am I bluffing? I’ll tell you where he is. But you need to sit back down and listen to the rest of my story.”

“No, tell me now, or I’ll—”

“Detonate the bomb? You’re not going to do that, Cat, because then you won’t learn anything. You said you were good at your job because you think through every outcome. Well guess what? So do I.”

Cat looked around for a moment, seeming unsure, but then sat back down at the table. “All right. Finish the story.”

“To prepare for this dinner, I had to learn everything about you, starting with your real name.” He described the way he had profiled her and found her with the help of Penelope. “Catherine Adams. Daughter of Daniel Adams, who did in fact leave the country in 1987 but came back in 2012. Based on confidentialrecords in rehabs and sober living houses, which in turn pointed us to flophouses and soup kitchens. He couldn’t put twenty-four hours together sober. And you can probably imagine my surprise when I discovered that he actually lives right here in DC.”

“Where?” Cat demanded, tears in her voice.

“It’s not that simple,” Reid told her. “He was in bad shape when I found him. I showed him a picture of you. He had no idea who you were.”

“He didn’t remember me?”

“The alcoholism shredded his brain. I’m sorry.”

Cat scoffed. “You’re not sorry. Sorry is what people say when they don’t understand.”

Reid didn’t reply.

“Wait,” Cat said, realizing something. “Your mother. Tell me.”

“Is this part of the game?”

“No. The game is over.”

Reid was silent for a moment before answering. “When I looked at her medical chart, it didn’t make any sense. The medication they gave her should have been helping, but I couldn’t figure out why it was making her so angry. So I went to see her. The moment I walked into her room, I saw it. For three seconds, she didn’t know who I was.”

Luke’s heart clenched with sympathy. He hoped his new friend was lying in an effort to stall Cat, but if he wasn’t… that was potentially the worst experience someone could have with their parents. He couldn’t imagine how he’d react if, one day, his own mother didn’t recognize him.

“I had her tested that morning,” Reid continued. “And I found out that night that she had early onset of dementia. Most likely Alzheimer’s.

“Did you test yourself?” Cat asked him.

Reid looked down at his lap.

“No, you didn’t. You were too scared.”

“I thought I dodged a bullet when I turned thirty and didn’t have a schizophrenic break like her,” Reid said, voice thick with tears. “But this is somehow bigger and scarier because I can actually see it happening. All the memories that we used to share… are just dying. I can’t stop it. I can’t help her. All I can do is find people that I can help.”

Cat cocked her head to the side. “Is that really why you showed up tonight? To help me?” She leaned across the table to him. “Do you know how many men have told me that they wanted to help me? How do you think that worked out for them?”

JJ’s panicked voice came through the comms then. “Hotch, she just armed the bomb.”

“Hotch we need to pull back,” Morgan insisted.

“Copy. Alvez, get out of there.”

“Hotch, we might have a lead here,” Tara said, having returned to their table a few minutes prior.

“She hasn’t touched anything to arm the bomb,” Luke explained. “That means The Bomber’s here, somewhere in the restaurant.”

“All right, if you can take him, do so,” Hotch conceded. “But the priority is evacuation.”

“I’m not even sure it is a him” Luke mused.

Tara nodded. “Cat mentioned something about gender bias. So what if we applied that to The Bomber as well?”

Hotch considered this. “All right, she’d have to be in a position to maintain line of sight of Reid all night. Who do you see?”

“Look for anyone with their phone out,” Luke advised as he and Tara started discreetly scanning the restaurant. “That’s the detonator. Our woman will give herself away by looking over.”

“You’re right,” Reid said then to Cat. “You don’t need my help. You don’t need anyone’s help. You are completely in control.”

Tara and Luke kept looking as Reid spoke, and then Tara found her.

“I’ve got her,” she whispered. “Blue dress. By the bar.”

“Hey, you know what, babe?” Luke asked at a normal, playing his part of the couple he and Tara were pretending to be as their cover. “Let’s get out of here, I’m not really feeling this place.” He got up and extended a hand to her.

“Aw, really?” Tara pretended to whine. “I kind of like it.”

“I want to take you to a spot where we can do some dancing,” he explained, leading her along the bar on their way to the exit. The second he was behind the woman Tara had pointed out, he grabbed her arm and twisted her away from the bar, wrestling with her for her phone. The second he had it, he pushed her toward Tara, who in turn shoved her against the bar to make the arrest as Luke used the phone to de-activate the bomb.

“Hotch, we’re clear,” came JJ’s voice, alerting Luke to his success, but only momentarily.

“Reid’s not,” Hotch informed them.

Cat had grabbed Reid and was standing by their table, holding her gun to his head. “Don’t!” She screamed.

“FBI,” Luke announced, making his way over to them. “Everybody stay calm please.”

“We’re going to be smart about this and talk it out, aren’t we, Cat?” Tara called out as she cuffed The Bomber.

“That’s up to you,” Cat called back.

“Get everyone out of here,” Reid instructed them.

“Move,” Tara ordered the civilians around her, dragging The Bomber out with her.

Morgan came into the main area of the restaurant then, having run back after the bomb was safely deactivated, and stood by Luke who was still standing in front of Cat and Reid with his gun trained on her.

“Morgan, Luke, you too,” Reid said to them.

Morgan shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Me neither,” Luke agreed.

“Guess we’re right back where we started,” Cat mused, looking at Reid. “You and me with a gun.”

“Reid, it’s time,” Morgan warned.

Time for what? Luke wanted to ask, but he held his tongue.

“No,” Reid pleaded.

“We don’t have a choice,” Morgan insisted. “We have to do it.”

“Morgan, shut up,” Reid begged.

“There’s one thing he hasn’t told you yet.” Morgan directed that at Cat.

“That’s not true, he’s lying, don’t listen to him,” Reid babbled.

“What haven’t you told me?” Cat demanded.

“Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!”

“We brought your father here,” Morgan announced.

Okay, so he was bluffing, Luke realized. The promise of her father was likely the only thing that could guarantee to get Cat out of this building alive.

“Here?” Cat repeated in disbelief. “He’s here?”

“He’s right outside,” Luke confirmed.

“Reid thought he needed every bargaining chip he could get,” Morgan explained.

“Morgan,” Reid pleaded again. “I am begging you, don’t. Don’t.”

Morgan ignored him. “Every bargaining chip he could get to convince you to do the right thing.”

Cat scoffed. “How is this the right thing?”

“Your father killed your mother,” Luke stated, playing along. This, this was what he knew. What he did best. The hunting, the undercover operation, talking down the unsub, it all brought him right back to the Fugitive Taskforce, and he loved it. He thrived in it. In these final hours of the night, it finally made sense to him why Morgan had begged him to come aboard. “There’s no statute of limitations on murder, so you really need to think about your options right now. You shoot him, I will kill you. Or if you surrender, you will live to testify against your father.”

“That’s not good enough,” Cat spat.

“We can arrange for the two of you to drive into custody together,” Morgan offered, “and then you can remind him of who you are.”

“If you give her this she wins,” Reid argued. “Don’t do it.”

“Kid I am trying to save your life, now let me do that!” Morgan snapped back. There was a beeping sound outside, a large vehicle backing up. “They’re bringing him in right now.”

Cat looked over at Reid, who looked absolutely agonized and distraught. “You’re really upset about this, aren’t you?”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Luke asked her. “A chance to finally hurt the man who deserves it.”

“They all deserve it,” Cat told him.

“He deserves it the most,” Luke countered.

Reid shook his head, which only seemed to spur Cat on and make her decision easier. “Only if Spencer escorts me out.”

“Deal,” Reid said through gritted teeth.

She threw her gun to the ground. Morgan and Luke approached the pair, Morgan handing Reid the cuffs while Luke kept his gun trained on Cat in case she had any surprises up her sleeve. Once she was cuffed, Reid began to escort her from the building.

“Hotch,” Morgan said into his comm.

“Yeah?”

“We’re coming out.”

“Okay, you’re all clear,” the Unit Chief informed them.

The four of them walked out of the building together, but Cat stopped dead in her tracks the second they crossed the threshold. “Wait.” She paused for a minute, then said, “Okay. I’m ready.”

Reid guided her down the steps and to the police van that was waiting for her, and Morgan and Luke followed them. They swing open the doors to reveal… nothing. Cat’s father wasn’t there. He never had been.

Reid led her into the van and cuffed her properly to the wall.

“You lied to me,” she said, sounding near tears.

“If it makes you feel any better, I really did look for him,” Reid told her sincerely. “But I couldn’t find him, so yeah, I did make it all up.”

“Not all of it,” Cat replied. “You don’t pull a story about a parent losing her memory out of nowhere. Your mother and the Alzheimer’s, that’s true.”

“Did you know?” Luke whispered to Morgan.

“Not a clue,” he whispered back.

“I won,” Cat declared.

“How so?” Reid asked her.

“Because I will get out of here.”

“Yeah, in twenty years, maybe, if you’re lucky,” Reid retorted.

She brushed him off. “Yeah, that’s fine. You know why? Because in twenty years, I’ll remember your name, but you won’t remember mine.”

Reid didn’t bother responding, he just stood up and got out of the van, Luke and Morgan slamming it shut behind him.

“Come on,” Morgan said to the other two. “Garcia’s spending the night with me and Savannah, let’s go and say hi to our girl.”

Reid nodded, smiling at the prospect of getting to see his friend free and happy again. Luke tried to not make it incredibly evident how much he was looking forward to seeing Penelope again, and at the same time, how sad he was this whole ordeal was over.

Morgan’s house was a decent walk away, but the weather was nice, and the three men enjoyed the cool night air to help soothe their nerves after the intense night, hell, intense months they had had. They didn’t say a word the whole time.

“You guys want to come in for a bit?” Morgan offered once they had arrived. “Decompress?”

Luke nodded, but Reid shook his head.

“I’m good, I’m probably just going to go home,” he replied.

“That was an intense case,” Morgan sighed.

“Yeah,” Reid laughed. “It’s over. Network’s gone.”

Morgan nodded, a serious look on his face, and Luke stepped to the side a little, wanting to be as not-present as he possibly could be for this no doubt personal conversation that was about to transpire.

However, before anyone got the chance to speak, a very drunk Penelope came barrelling out of the house calling, “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!” A frantic Savannah came running out after her.

Morgan’s eyes went wide. “Hey hey hey, what is happening right now?”

Penelope was on a roll, running down the stairs in her four-inch heels to go to them. “You’re what’s going on. Right now is what’s… You are here. Do you know what’s happening right now? It is… it is done! The Dirty Dozen is done! Yes! Duh-uhn! I’m in it!” She made little strange gestures with her hands as she spoke, which had the group in absolute stitches.

Morgan turned to Savannah. “How much did she have?”

Savannah scratched the back of her head guiltily. “She started out with jäger.”

“Jäger?” Morgan repeated in shock.

Penelope put her hands on Morgan’s shoulders. “I love you.”

“Okay,” he replied, trying to see where she was going with this.

“I love you,” she repeated. “And you!” Penelope pointed at Reid. “I love you so much. And you,” she stumbled over to Luke and planted her hands on his chest to ground herself, staring down at her feet. He was glad she was so drunk she likely couldn’t feel how much his heartrate had just accelerated. She turned her head back toward him, a look of concentration on her face. “I don’t know you well enough to love you yet, but I definitely like you a lot and I could love you.”

“Okay,” Luke managed to squeak out, flustered as all hell.

Penelope turned to Savannah then and grabbed her by the shoulders. “And you! I should be jealous of you because you’re so hot—”

Savannah turned in shock to stare at Morgan, who was equally at a loss for words.

“But I’m not!” Penelope swore. “I’m not! I promise you I’m not! I’m not, I promise! No, I’m not, ‘cause you know what? All I feel in here is love.” She started running her hands over her body. “I just… I am feeling full of love. So much love… I’m wearing too many clothes!” She turned and started running back up the stairs to the house.

“I got this,” Savannah assured them.

Casting a glance to Morgan and Reid, Luke decided they could probably use a moment to themselves, so he called after Savannah, “I’ll help you.”

"You don't have to," Savannah told him as they chased Penelope through the house. "I can handle a drunk Penelope, it wouldn't be the first time."

"Oh I know, but I don't mind," Luke assured her. "Besides, Mor– Derek and Spencer looked like they needed a minute to themselves."

Savannah nodded, understanding. She knew Derek's three closest friends were right there, Luke, Penelope, and Spencer, and knew that two of them had been having an especially tough go of it. She had learned to love each of them as much as he did. She wouldn't fault her boyfriend for spending time with his friend, especially one who had been gone so long. "We need to convince Penelope to go to sleep," she told Luke. "She's a very blabbery drunk, as you saw, but she's also a sleepy one. The sooner we get her to bed, the better she feels in the morning. But normally she brings pajamas, she doesn't have any this time."

"Did she happen to bring her bag that she was living out of at Quantico?"

Savannah's eyes lit up. “Yes she did! Okay, I’ll go grab the pajamas, you try to corral her in the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan, but first I’m going to get her a glass of water so she doesn’t have a killer headache tomorrow.”

Savannah took off to find the pajamas, and went to get the water and Penelope. “Hey, Penelope, hey,” he said gently, taking her by her shoulder—and trying to pull her cardigan back on because he was respectful.

“Luke! Hi!”

He smiled warmly at her. “Hi. I have a question for you. Wouldn’t you just love to go to sleep in a real bed instead of your office couch like you’ve been having to do the last few months?”

Penelope’s entire face lit up. “Yes! I’d love that! Yes! Please!”

“Okay, then follow me, all right? We’re going to the guest bedroom. Savannah is bringing you pajamas.”

“All right!” Penelope replied enthusiastically.

Luke was absolutely enamored. She was just… adorable. “And can you drink this glass of water, please? I don’t want you having a headache in the morning.”

“Oooh, good idea.” She took the glass from him and gulped at it greedily.

Savannah met them in the guest bedroom and gave Penelope the pajamas, and they gave her time to change. Once she had, Luke helped get Penelope into the bed—she was somehow more uncoordinated drunk and out of heels than she was drunk and in them—while Savannah put the dress she’d changed out of with her other things.

“I am really tired,” Penelope said as she lay down, falling asleep the second her head hit the pillow, letting out a small snore that Luke genuinely considered one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard.

Savannah chuckled as she left the room. “Now I need a drink.”

Luke pulled the blankets up to Penelope’s chin, a soft smile on both their faces. If he happened to give her a small kiss on the forehead once Savannah had left the room, what would it matter? Sweet dreams, sweetheart. Sleep tight.

Morgan came in once Reid left, and the three remaining adults sat down with drinks of their own.

"So," Morgan sighed. "That's over. At long last."

Luke shook his head in disbelief. "I know. It hasn't sunk in yet. It was the last few months of our lives, and now it's done."

"And you're done with the BAU now."

"Yeah. I'll be by tomorrow to pick up my things and say goodbye, but then it's back to normal."

"Well we'll miss you."

"I'll miss you guys too."

"How'd you like the BAU, Luke?" Savannah asked him.

"Oh, it was great," he replied easily. "Great experience, great people, I kind of wish I didn't have to go."

"See?" Morgan laughed. "I told you you had nothing to worry about! You were all worried about not being good at the job, but you're a natural."

Luke shrugged off the compliment humbly. "Eh, once I met the people it was easy. You guys make the job easy. And of course, once I met Penelope, I understood why you were so eager to protect her."

"Yeah, she has that effect on people, doesn't she?" Savannah laughed fondly. "She's pretty great."

Luke's entire face lit up. "She's amazing. We got along great, she's definitely one of the people I'm going to miss the most. I would check in on her every night, I'm gonna have to get use to not doing that anymore."

Morgan's eyes went wide. “Ooh, look at how he’s smiling!” He turned to Savannah. "Are you seeing this?"

Savannah's eyes were shining with shock, glee, and a little bit of mischief. "Oh I'm seeing it all right."

Luke schooled his expression instantly. "Seeing what?"

"You, my friend, are crushing," Morgan sing-songed.

"I am not!" Luke lied, feeling his cheeks and ears burn.

"You so are!" Morgan goaded. "You have a crush on Penelope!"

"Can we not call it a crush, please?" Luke begged. "That sounds so… high school."

"Maybe so, but that's exactly what it is!" Savannah teased.

He fixed her with a faux-glare. "Et tu, Sav?" They had only met a few times in the two years she and Morgan had been together, but, both being easy people to get along with, they formed a quick and easy friendship.

She raised her hands in the air in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just calling it like it is!"

Morgan grinned. "I think it's great. You are absolutely smitten."

Luke smiled to himself. Yes, he was helplessly and hopelessly smitten, but he wasn't going to admit that. At least, not in those words. "Shut up," he replied instead, with a laugh.

Morgan only half-listened. "So. You gonna ask her out?"

"No," Luke replied quickly.

Morgan cocked his head to the side. "Why not? You two would be good together!"

Like thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase everything in a way that made sense. "I'd feel weird about it. She's just been through an incredibly intense draining and traumatic experience, I would feel like I'm taking advantage of that. And I also wouldn't want her to feel like she owes me, in some weird way? And I also don’t want to come off as the guy who feels like he’s owed, because I’m not an asshole. Besides, you know, I’m sure once I no longer see her every day for a few weeks, and I’d hate to try to start something only for that to happen.”

“First of all,” Morgan countered, she would never think any of those things and second of all, if you really think your feelings will fade by not seeing her, then by asking her out and seeing her frequently, they wouldn’t fade.”

Luke seemed unsure. “I’d hate to ruin our friendship over something I’m unsure about.”

“Then wait a bit, see how you’re feeling, and then go for it!”

Luke shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

***

As promised, Luke was back at the BAU the next day to collect his things. The army and the Fugitive Taskforce had instilled in him a habit of traveling light, so all he had to do was throw a few things in his backpack and he was all set. He said goodbye to everyone, giving Hotch and Rossi a firm handshake, Morgan, Tara, and JJ a hug, and holding up his elbow to Reid to bump his own against. Then, before leaving, he made his way over to Penelope’s office.

“How’re you feeling?” Luke asked with a smirk once she opened the door.

She rolled her eyes playfully in response. “Fine, actually. Probably because you and Savannah made me drink water and go to sleep, so thank you.”

“Any time.”

“So what are you doing here? I thought you were done now? Are you staying longer?”

She looked so excited at that prospect, and he was loath to contradict her. “No, I’m done. I was just here to grab my things, and I wanted to say a proper goodbye.”

Her smile morphed into a frown. “Aw, okay.” She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him tight and resting her hands in the middle of his back.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet, flowery smell of her hair.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispered into him.

“I’ll miss you too,” he whispered back.

“I’ll have to get use to you not coming to visit me every day,” Penelope said as she stepped out of the hug.

“Well you can call or text me any time,” Luke assured her, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Don’t be a stranger, okay, Penelope?”

She nodded, smiling softly. “Okay. You either, Luke.”

He smiled warmly at her one last time. “Goodbye, Penelope.”

#Garvez #Garvez fanfiction #Platonic Morvez #Platonic Morvez fanfiction #Luke Alvez #Penelope Garcia #Derek Morgan #Spencer Reid #Cat Adams #Aaron Hotchner #David Rossi #Jennifer Jareau #Tara Lewis #Savannah Hayes #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds fanfiction

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gamegem92 · 2 years ago

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(Squish Oneshot) Light-up Sleeper

“Okay… this should be done by tomorrow… OH MY GERM, how long have I had time to complete this?!”

Naturally, Pod was rather focused on schoolwork, and he always seemed to get it done on time. But take planning Three Best Friends day into mind, and it becomes a tiny problem to catch up with everything.

Pond Studies… Art Class… Science… Algebra… not to mention the various gadgets he constantly created… he hoped to make something that could get it all done faster… but then, at last, it was done.

“Finally…” He then decided to get some rest then and there, not even noticing the clock, which read 4:00 am. Daybreak came, and so did the need to go to school. His mother Daisy was working early today, so he had to prepare for school himself. The breakfast he got was half a cup of juice and a cupcake. I can get an iced coffee on the way, he thought. He got his coffee and ran straight to the bus. Right when he got on, he took a sip. The chilly caffeinated contentment danced on his senses, cooling him down and perking him up at the same time. By the time he made it to school, only one sip was left, and he certainly made it count as he approached the doors. Another amoeba approached him. It was Squish. “Pod! My man, my ‘moeba! Almost time for class! Peggy’s already in there, but it won’t start without the smartest student in class- and Small Pond!” Pod smiled at that. Oh no, is the caffeine wearing off already? He slightly slowed down a bit as soon as he got to his desk.

The teacher, Mr. Rotifer, was giving his lecture on mud, sand, and small pebbles like usual. Anyone would have fallen asleep after hearing him talk for a long time, but Pod usually payed attention, so you can guess how many students were shocked at the genius’s little nap.

“…Are you sure you don’t need a break from class, Pod?” He woke up with a start. “Huh? Wh-what? Umm, yes, I might need a break.” Outside of class, Squish and Peggy looked at their friend with slight concern, especially since Peggy is almost always seen with a smile.

“You okay, Pod?” “Yeah, you almost never fall asleep like everyone else during Mr Rotifer’s lectures! Did you get enough sleep?” Pod was at an internal stalemate. Should he tell the truth, or say what they would like him to say? “I- Of course I got enough sleep!”

Just then, something happened. He lit up like a glow stick. The sudden light got the sleepiness out of his eyes immediately, and he was shocked. “…Okay, maybe I went to bed a little late last night, but it couldn’t have been that late!” The glow faded with those words.

Squish and Peggy both stared at him a while. “…When DID you go to sleep?” Squish asked, playfully nudging at his friend’s membrane. “I, um, don’t remember.” He didn’t light up when he said that, so he must’ve told the truth.

“Wait, you GLOWED when you told us that you got sleep, then stopped glowing when you told the truth. Then that means…” Squish started to laugh at the thought. “The SMARTEST BOY in SMALL POND DIDN’T KNOW he ate one of his own GLOW CUPCAKES?! Bahahahahah! Heheheh, you’re, uh, not mad, are you?”

“No, just disappointed at MYSELF that I didn’t tell you that I needed rest.” He averted his eyes and tried to stay awake. “I guess planning Three Best Friends day on a week with the most class work ISN’T such a good idea.”

Just then, Peggy got an idea. “Don’t worry, Pod! We’ll plan Three Best Friends day for you, and you can get some sleep as a reward for all the school work you did!” Squish smiled at the idea.

“It’s just one week,” he chimed. “Besides, not like you can lie about getting enough sleep for a week now, right?” The Three Best Friends smiled at the plan.

“…Thanks, guys.”

#squish books #squish comics #squish animated #squish #squish (comic)#squish super amoeba #squish (animated)#one shot

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yeaaahhhsss · 1 year ago

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Book I’ve Read!

These are titles I’ve read so far as my memory can recall! I do still remember the first novel I read (but not sure it really was the first or the first touching my heart...) so yeah this is it! (not in an orderly manner and would be updated periodically)

Fiction 1. Herr der Diebe (The Thief Lord) by Cornelia Funke 2. Harry Potter Series by J. K. Rowling (- The Philosopher’s Stone and The Order of The Phoenix 3. The Mortal Instruments Series by Cassandra Clare (only City of Bones and City of Glass) 4. Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins 5. A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket (only The Wide Window and The Penultimate Peril) 6. Legend of Great Tang’s Twin Dragons by Huang Yi 7. The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of The Window and Disappeared by Jonas Jonasson 8. Sherlock Holmes Series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle • Sign of Four • The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: The Five Orange Pips • The Return of Sherlock Holmes: The Adventures of Empty House, ...of Norwood Builder, ...of Dancing Men, ...of Six Napoleons, ...of the Goldern Pince-Nez • His Last Bow: The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge, ...of the Bruce-Partington Plans, ...of Lady Frances Carfax • The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes: The Adventure of the Three Garridebs 9. Jack Nightingale Series by Stephen Leather (Nightfall, Midnight, and Lastnight) 10. The Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger 11. To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee 12. The Brother Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky 13. On The Road by Jack Kerouac 14. Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë 15. Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry 16. Notes From Underground by Fyodor Dostoyevsky 17. Book of Souls by Glenn Cooper 18. The Time Keeper by Mitch Albom 19. The First Phone Call from Heaven by Mitch Albom 20. Love Letters to The Dead by Ava Dellaira 21. Ways to Live Forever by Sally Nicholls 22. Life of Pi by Yann Martel 23. The Perks of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky 24. The Universe of Us by Lang Leav 25. Hamlet by William Shakespeare 26. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas 27. Hadji Murad by Leo Tolstoy 28.

Comic books 1. Slam Dunk by Inoue Takehiko 2. Detective Conan by Aoyama Gosho 3. Interstellar Bridge/Seikan Bridge by Kyukkyupon 4. Hunter x Hunter by Yoshihiro Togashi 5. Yuyu Hakusho by Yoshihiro Togashi 6. Death Note by Tsugumi Ohba 7. Bakuman by Tsugumi Ohba 8. Kuroko’s Basketball by Tadatoshi Fujimaki 9. Nozaki by Izumi Tsubaki 10. Haikyuu!! by Haruichi Furudate 11. Kocchi Muite! Miiko by Eriko Ono 12. Fullmetal Alchmeist by Hiromu Arakawa 13. Solanin by Inio Asano 14. A Man and His Cat by Umi Sakurai 15.

Nonfiction 1. Blue Collar, Blue Scrubs by Michael Collins, MD. 2. Ceci est ma femme by Oliver Sacks 3. The 5-Second Rule by Mel Robbins 4. Blink! by Malcolm Gladwell 5. David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell 6. What The Dog Saw by Malcolm Gladwell 7. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen Covey 8. Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamonds 9. When by Daniel H. Pink 10. The Order of Time by Carlo Rovelli 11. The Problems of Philosophy by Bertrand Russel 12. The View from Planet Earth by Vincent Cronin 13. Collapse by Jared Diamond 14. How to Lead When Your Boss Can’t or Won’t by J. C. Maxwell 15. Aristotle’s Children by R. E. Rübenstein 16. Atomic Habits by James Clear 17. The Naked Traveler 3 & 4 by Trinity 18. Black Hole Survival Guide by Janna Levin 19.

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thornedclover · 2 months ago

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SPEAK NOW | Wednesday Addams × Tyler Galpin · wednesday ( TV 2022)

CHAPTER 1. i hate the crowds, you know that.

.☘︎ ݁˖

summary. 2 years later, 4 semesters have come and gone, and the annual Rave’N dance is tomorrow night. after refusing to attend the previous times since her first with Tyler, Wednesday is reluctantly convinced by Enid to attend the dance for a second time. little does she know that someone is awaiting her once she arrives.

word count. 2,805.

warnings. slow build.

tags. inspired by music.

authors note.

this is a 3-part short story initially inspired by Taylor Swift’s song betty from her folklore album. i hope whoever chooses to read this enjoys it even if it is pretty slow.

Enid slumped her shoulders with a slightly frustrated groan. “Ugh, why not?! You haven’t gone in two years! It’s the one night of the year where everyone can let loose and have a good time.”

Not bothering to turn around to face her roommate, Wednesday kept her eyes to her typewriter as her voice carried over the clicking of the keys. “What’s the point? I’m not interested in spiked punch and disco balls. Besides,” she paused to slide the roller back to the far left. “I’d rather not partake in self-torture by wearing heels and a suffocating envelopment of a dress.”

“I thought you enjoyed torture?”

“I do. Just not the type that makes me actually want to kill myself.”

Not buying into her reasons, Sinclair sighed. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. Once you get in there, you’ll completely forget about what you’re wearing.” Her mind flipped back to the year of their first Rave’N together as roommates. “You wore a dress and heels last time, and you looked so killer in them! You literally screamed ‘bad bitch icon’ on the dance floor!”

But Addams maintained her divided attention. “Precisely. Why would I subject myself to another night of useless pain and attention? It’s unsettling. One time was more than enough. I didn’t want to go two years ago. Why would I have even the slightest intention of going now?” Her dark eyes flickered from the keyboard to the manilla paper being scripted with black ink. “Rumor has it that it’s practically a breeding ground for germs and the perfect setup for erotic, teenage antics to thrive.”

Within the last couple of years, there was talk that the dance had been spiced up by typical adolescent behaviors. Simple yet idiotic jokes being played among the attendees, make-out sessions in the restroom, and the occasional down and dirty dancing that would illuminate the dance floor in competition with the flashing disco lights. Who would ever want to miss that?

A twitch of her eyebrow accompanied her following remark of sarcasm. “I’d be better off sticking pens in my eyes than witnessing something so overrated.”

Instead of keeping up with their argumentative conversation, the werewolf calmly paced over to her roomie’s desk and turned to face her, leaning on the table for support. “Please, Wednesday?” Her crystal orbs sparkled with hope and a hint of beseech. “Can’t you just try to do something other than go to class and stay locked away in here, writing another novel?” When she received no reply, she twisted her lips in an indecisive way. There had to be something more to the psychic’s refusal. The excuses she had stated her case with did not make complete sense… for her, anyway. Generally, she was not bothered by those sorts of things; she would just ignore them more than anything. Other than possibly walking in on vampires fanging in a bathroom stall, she would not have to dance or linger within the crowds if she preferred not to. Although it was highly encouraged, it was not required. Additionally, this upcoming dance, like all others, would serve as a getaway – a chance to disassociate from the world and all of its normie nonsense for one night. That is what the Rave’N was for, after all – a place for outcasts to be themselves and enjoy their lives as anyone should. So, what was eating at her that made it such a hassle to go?

Then it hit.

“Is this about Tyler?” She searched for the other’s gaze. “Do you not want to go, because he was your date to your first Rave’N?”

Wednesday expressed an irked, nasal sigh before finally breaking the connection with her typewriter to look at Enid. If she was honest, she was right. Since Nevermore cut all ties with the nightrunner, she had never let his name fall from her lips. There was no point. No reason. Nothing left to say. Nothing more to feel… Or so she wanted herself to believe. He was the mystery. The animal that lurked under the forests’ trees. The monster that attacked numerous, innocent souls and robbed them of their right to live. The Hyde that came to be known as the prized culprit of Jericho. He had become damn-good at leading her on only to abandon her at the hands of death, before he desired the thrill of ripping her apart himself. A cunning trickster trained by a manipulative mastermind. And the only boy she had ever grown to catch feelings for. That was who Tyler Galpin was.

It was true. She liked him, crushed on him, and found herself in a tailspin on which side of her to listen to and which path she wanted to follow. But after keeping her guard up and steering clear of any happenings of romanticism, she willed herself to take a chance on him. She had trusted him, and he drew scars upon her heart.

She should have known better.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” questioned Sinclair, reading the raven’s countenance like a book. “Look, I understand. I know it came as a real shock, but…” She glanced down in hopes of softening the upcoming blow. “You can’t hold on to that memory forever. I know it’s hard to let go, because he was one of the few people you trusted. I know you miss him-”

But Addams snapped back at her right then and there. “No, I don’t. And I haven’t developed an emotional hellscape to dwell in either.” She watched her roommate lock eyes with her again before continuing her reinforcement, sharpness still striking her tongue. “Tyler was a conniving pawn that bowed to his master like an obedient dog. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A puppeteer that fazed everyone to believe he was nothing but a common, innocent normie.” She narrowed her eyes to dispel any possible doubts the blonde had. “Grieving over something like that is nothing shy of pointless.”

But it was not pointless. She missed him. She had fallen into a hellhole of indeterminate emotions at the thought of him. Whether she believed it or not, he had left a scab on her heart that would bleed every now and then when she lost herself in her adolescent biology of oscillating hormones. Never did she think she would fall for someone, but then he came in and wrecked her plans that were laced in solitude. Now, she was forever haunted by his green eyes and calm, attentive voice. It was unusual and, quite honestly, uncomfortable. But that seemed to be her life nowadays. Go figure.

When the she-wolf picked up on her side of the dispute, she traded her tone for a softer pitch. She knew Galpin was the reason for her behavior towards the topic, but she decided not to push much further into the matter. “Well, even if you do… your secret’s safe with me.” She saw Addams take a quick glance away prior to carrying on. “I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. Tyler was the first guy you’ve ever liked, right?”

The psychic sighed her usual sigh and sat back, crossing her arms.

“So, it totally makes sense,” she shrugged. She would know – as a teenage girl, herself, and being involved with social media, it was common sense that it was only natural to experience such feelings that her roomie, although denying it, was currently enduring. Even after two years have passed.

Then a light smile threatened to break her sentimental moment as she put her palms on the tabletop behind her to have her shoulders shrug up. “To be honest…” She tilted her head to the left. “It would be weird if you didn’t feel this way.”

This only made Wednesday maintain her cold stare and signature frown.

“Sooooo…, with that being said…, how about you make a new memory with me tomorrow night? One that you won’t forget? In a good way?” While Enid watched the other’s eyes shift down almost in a debating manner, she attempted to use the act of persuasion. “We can go tomorrow and find you a completely different look. Something that’s still a statement but doesn’t look like your first dress’s twin sister. There’s no way you’re going to wear something without a sense of variety.”

It took everything in the raven not to completely shut her roomie down. Despite everything, she did not have any interest in presenting herself at the all-cracked-up-to-be dance as it was. Why would she? She did not even have a date to attend with. Maybe it would be good for her to make a memory out of tomorrow night to try and repair the damage done? Even if her heart would never mend. Even if it would not change the past. Even if it would not make Tyler fade from her reminiscence. Maybe it would prevent talk from spreading around regarding her captivation in a mental jail cell of hormonal imbalance because of a particular barista formally employed at the Weathervane. Maybe she should just swallow her pride and go forth with herself as if she had moved on from her first semester at Nevermore. Maybe she should just care less and be careless.

Forgive and forget is what they say… but she never knew how hard it could be until she came face-to-face with it beginning at age 16.

Giving herself a thoughtful blink, she collected herself enough to meet the other’s face. The more she balanced her choices, the more she figured that one way or the other, they both had their cons. Whether she stayed or went, there was no telling what the outcome would be. All she knew was that Sinclair would keep digging periodically until she uncovered what had been hidden behind her nonchalant, icy front. What was the point of letting her push and push until she lit a match and triggered a domino effect of emotions? Sentimental performances were never her strong suit anyway.

“I’ll think about it.”

The following evening came within a flash. The night of the Rave’N had come at last.

All mirrors in the dorms were occupied with boys tightening their ties and girls perfecting their hair before meeting up with their dates to sashay their way through the Rave’N’s entrance. Come every year, this would be the night of nights – the dance to rival all others, the moment to brave and shine, the winning ticket to someone’s love story.

Well… all except for Wednesday.

After revisiting the idea over and over and over, she had finally allowed Enid to win her over late the previous night and ‘partake in self-torture by wearing heels and a suffocating envelopment of a dress.’ Dread still preyed upon her, but she was forced to overlook her biting temptation to drop everything and stick to her guns. She had decided to do this on behalf of her roommate – Sinclair never asked for much and she definitely meant well with every word that struck her tongue. With everything they had been through, the bond they had constructed over time, and all of the hell she had put her through countless times, she could, at least, return the favor this once.

In retrospect, how bad could it actually turn out to be?

Slipping on her heels, the psychic stood from her bedside and paced over to the mirror to double-check her final look before Enid came knocking at the door for departure. But when she stepped into the reflecting portrait, words could not even begin to explain what she saw. Except for a single phrase that seemed to speak deeper than she could feel.

The girl in the mirror… she has lost her damn mind.

Her pale skin was complemented against the black tulle orchestrating her gown along with the opera gloves encasing her arms. The daintiness of her clavicle was accentuated by the strapless design as it practically put her shoulders’ elegance on a pedestal. From the style chosen by Sinclair, with advice from Yoko, her raven hair had been unraveled from its signature twin braids only to be twisted up into a messy chignon with a blend of hair clips and pins. Her bangs kept their framing cut while longer tresses were separated out of her bun to dangle down for a charming, chic rendition. Never had she ever styled her hair close to anything like it was now… But that was what she got for permitting her roommate with creative liberty. From the bodice’s fit, her waist was sure to also catch eyes and tempt complimenting tongues with the way it highlighted her svelte physique. Past her waistline and down, an A-line skirt concealed her lower-half, hovering a few inches above the ground due to her high heels cutting its contact short. Head to toe, she was just as she thought 2 years prior – unrecognizable, ridiculous, a classic example of female objectification for the male gaze.

And she was… she really was. In the most prodigious, exotic, astounding way. She was truly something to behold. Even as an Addams… Even as an outcast.

The longer she stared at the foreign beauty in the reflective surface, the more of an internal mess she became. How could she let herself do this? How could she have let herself be transformed into something so enthralling and so… fictional? Bewitching as she appeared, the reveal was almost enough to have nausea set in – this was not her. It was not her style, and did not come even close to fitting in her what-could-be or ‘in another life’ fantasy… if she had one, anyway. But the strangest thing of all was… she actually looked like she belonged to someone – dressing to impress a Romeo desperate for his Juliet. Outdoing herself in preparation for an unforgettable occasion. But everything she could possibly be perceived as was not what it seemed. Her enchanting sorcery of head-turning looks served for one, single purpose that no one but herself and Enid knew: the intent to dethrone the rule that Tyler Galpin had over her was to be carved in stone and executed. Whether it would actually work or not was in her power, her mind, her heart. Although black, it did bleed the same color red as every other being walking the earth. And, oh, how nauseating that was.

How nauseating it all was.

Releasing a bothered sigh, Addams turned away before several more knots could tie themselves into her stomach. She had definitely stepped up her fashion taste for the prior dance, but it felt more like a pole-vault going into it at 18. Like the first time, it was more than enough but then some. God, this felt so out of her element. Thought after thought attacked her brain, manifesting an urge to back out of this entire scheme, but, luckily, she was saved by a knock at the door that echoed off the room’s walls.

“Wednesday, let’s go!”

Forcing herself to snap out of the trance, she opened the front barricade to have wide, sparkling blue eyes and a snowy smile napalm her.

“Oh my God, shut up! Gothic femme fatale who?! You look absolutely amazing!” The werewolf looked over her roomie before adding, “Yoko and I did such a great job! You’re really going to stun everyone tonight. Like, jaws are going to drop through the floor.”

Still having the vision of herself burning in her mind, the raven kept a straight posture with natural sarcasm lacing her words. “If you mean ‘great job’ as in making emetic eye candy out of me, you’re not far off the target.”

“Oh, come on,” replied Enid, completely brushing off the mordacious counter. “You look fabulous, and the dance is going to be fire.” When she did not see a change in Wednesday’s attitude, she was pressed to try further reassurance. “If you’re that worried about being out of your comfort zone, just stick with me and Ajax. We weren’t planning to go crazy this year anyway, since he’s still getting over his cold. I mean, we might dance a little, but we’ll probably just hang out.”

The other merely responded with a quick glance away.

“Well…,” the she-wolf started with a warm smile prior to nodding her head back towards the hall behind her. “Are you ready?” Being so caught up with the psychic’s complete presentation, she almost forgot she had left her date waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

Swallowing her pride with a grain of bitterness, Addams let the words fall from her magenta lips. “As ready as I can be.”

And each step she took after that – through the hall, down the stairs, and out the doors to the awaiting party – led her to whatever may lay in her fate’s devious, inexorable hands.

#wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #wednesday addams #tyler galpin #enid sinclair #writing blog #writeblr #writers on tumblr #short story #jenna ortega #not my gif

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