#it’s so obvious again that I put the most effort into Penelope I’m crying

[deadbaguette]

Diomedes goes to Ithaca AU bust refs :3 except we have a special guest (it’s Neoptolemus) below the cut

The family!! (More than half of them have never met)

[lovelyspencers]

Both Sides Like Chanel

“I see both sides like chanel,

see on both sides like chanel.”

Synopsis: Spencer and fem!Reader have been dating for a while now and there is something that Spencer hasn’t trusted anyone else with that he wants to share with her

Content Warning: mentions of drug addiction, allusions to sex, brief mention of internalized homophobia

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: this is my first fanfiction and I’m not entirely sure how tumblr works yet but it is my mission to do something about the lack of bi!Spencer representation

Compared to his colleagues and friends, Spencer was a fairly private person. He liked to keep things to himself because his life centered around repetitious disappointments. So, he was content that his private life was not set on a stage, his misery displayed for everyone to see.

But then he fell in love with you the minute you walked into the bullpen and bumped into him, leaving your belongings all scattered on the marble floor. Spencer was never one for touch but when he took your hand to sweep you off the ground, butterflies filled his stomach like the air on a humid summer’s day.

After a few years of friendship, his adoration for you grew as easily as ivy on an abandoned house and it was on New Year’s Day that the team celebrated in Rossi’s mansion that his slightly intoxicated self decided that he was not able to hold it in any longer.

You had sneaked off to Rossi’s backyard after Garcia had gotten a bit of too affectionate and randomly started kissing everyone.

Both of you were slightly buzzed, your head laid in his lap as he explained the constellations to you. He wished that the sky above you was the only thing that filled his mind, but when he looked at you with your skin slightly flustered from the alcohol and your lips pursed as in deep thought, all that he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you.

It wasn’t the first time, the thought floated around in his mind. It had been so crucial in fact that the thought of your lips softly pressed on his played in his head like a film reel every night, unable to give him the sweet escape of sleep.

So, when the blank sky was filled with multicolored fireworks, the moonlight illuminated the complexion of your face and cheers erupted from the silence surrounding you without a second thought, he leaned in to kiss you.

You tasted like champagne and the strawberry lipstick you obsessively put on whenever you got anxious and to Spencer, he felt as if he had found the missing puzzle piece he’d been seeking for all his life.

And then like they always did, his thoughts began rushing through his mind like cars during rush hour and he instantly pulled back.

You were gonna hate him and then he would lose the only person he trusted with all his being and maybe you’d tell Penelope and everyone would laugh at him for believing that someone as amazing as you would ever-

But before his poisonous thoughts got the best of him, you grabbed the sides of his face and connected your lips with his again, filling the entirety of his body with pure bliss.

“I’ve been waiting so long for you to do that.” Your voice vibrated against his lips and he couldn’t help the smile that graced his face in the process.

The two of you could have kissed for only seconds or even hours because as he finally experienced what it felt like to be utterly yours, none of the things surrounding you mattered to him in the slightest.

All that mattered was that his biggest dream of your heart belonging to him entirely finally came true and he had no intention to ever let it go.

But even the most perfect moments couldn’t last forever and in this case, it was disturbed in the figment of the people the two of you considered family.

At first, you both didn't notice the footsteps on the grass, too caught up in trying to pour every stolen glance and hidden adoration in the simplicity of a kiss.

It wasn’t until cheers filled the silence around you that you hesitantly broke apart and were greeted with the sight of the team who all had smirks plastered on their faces.

To his delight, you didn’t entirely pull away from him like he thought you would instead you got off his lap to lazily wrap your arms around his torso. Subconsciously he pressed a kiss to your temple erupting even more amusement from the people watching you.

“About damn time.” Emily was the first to break out of her trance. Soon, congratulations were shared and the team tried to discreetly exchange money since they seemed to have some kind of bet going on. Even Hotch had a rare smile on his face and it was without a doubt the most beautiful start in the new year he could have ever wished for.

“I love you,” you muttered as you hid your face in his chest, and though there was no way the team could have heard what you told him, the smile on his face told them everything they needed to know.

“I love you too.”

He wished more than anything else that your love story could have ended that way and you lived happily ever after but this wasn’t a movie and the truth was that relationships were work. Work he was more than willing to put effort in but work nonetheless.

You loved each other dearly but you weren’t perfect and neither was he. Most of your fights revolved around his fear of vulnerability and even though he spent years building a wall around his heart so no one could ever shatter it again, he loved you far more than his self preservation so he tried his hardest.

And there was one particular thing, he always wanted to tell you or anyone who he felt earned his trust.

Throughout his life, his trust had been broken many times. So without even realizing it, there was a barrier between the two of you that prevented him from loving you to the fullest and he hated it.

But unlike Derek who immediately spread his problems around like it was just some gossip printed on the sixth page or JJ who kept Emily’s well-being to herself despite him coming to cry to her for months, you never betrayed his trust.

Even more so, you didn’t have that look of pity in your eyes that was equally as painful as daggers in his chest when he told you about his drug addiction or the schizophrenia of his mother.

You were easily the person on earth that he trusted the most but that didn’t mean that there weren’t some things that he still kept to himself.

But as he said, he wanted to change that and if one person was deserving of his honesty and vulnerability it was you.

Spencer had told you about his father leaving, the horrors he had to face that still haunted him in his dreams, his kidnapping from Tobias Hankel, and the cruelty of a childhood as a child prodigy.

While what he wanted to tell you wasn’t nearly as heavy it still felt like dead weight continuing to weigh him down.

Every time, he came close to telling you the truth, he got scared like a child in the dark and switched topics to something that didn’t matter at all.

Spencer also knew that you were aware that something was off. Before you started dating ten months ago, you had been best friends for years so he can positively say that you know him better than anybody else.

But today he had a plan.

You had been wanting to watch ‘Love, Simon’ with him for weeks and he had tried to avoid it for obvious reason but today he’d watch it with you and maybe then he’d gain the courage to talk to you.

He was aware of how illogical his fears were, after all, you had always been open about your bisexuality and had seen you beat up homophobes on various occasions (while Hotch hated it, it was on the long list of things that Spencer loved about you).

But he feared that maybe you wouldn’t want to be with someone who liked men and women or maybe that just didn’t fit with the type of man you were looking for or maybe-

Nope, he wasn’t doing this to himself. You were the kindest, most open hearted and loving person he knew and he had told you far more break up worthy thing than his sexuality.

When he had told you about his past drug addiction, you pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and kissed the fainting scars there and helped him get rid of the small stack of Dilaudid that he had kept hidden in his closet without any sign of judgment.

When he had told you about his mother, you pulled his head on your lap and started playing with his hair until the tears on his face dried and pinky promised him that you would stay with him even if he inhabited his mother’s illness because there was nothing that you would ever let drive a wedge between the two of you.

When he had told you about his childhood and confided in you for the relentless bullying he had to endure after you had found an invitation to a high school reunion in his mailbox, you had peppered him with kisses the entire night and showered him with compliments and love.

Not to mention that you convinced him to go to the high school reunion where everyone seemed equally as impressed by the beauty that his girlfriend possessed and the nature of his job. And every time, you sensed that he was uncomfortable you held his hand and wordlessly pulled him away, because you simply understood him like that.

The first night you slept over, he was more anxious over you sleeping next to him than the actual act of having sex with you (which said a lot because in a moment of desperation he had even asked Derek for sex advice) because he knew that the nightmares would jolt him awake again.

But it was so easy to be with you and when he pulled your body into his and showed you just how much he loved you in the most intimate act there was, all worries (and crappy advice that Derek had given him) left his mind and were quickly replaced by pure bliss and escasty.

And when he woke up shaking because some monsters don’t stay hidden in the dark, you were right there to comfort him until he was able to safely fall asleep with your arms wrapped around his waist.

Spencer was jolted back to reality when there was a knock on his door and he immediately wrapped you in a bone crushing hug before pouring all his worries and love into a kiss.

“We literally saw each other at work today. Did you really miss me that much already?” Your laughter that had become Spencer’s favorite sound ever since the first time he heard it filled the room, and he had to fight the urge to drop his plans and just worship you and your body for the entirety of the evening instead.

No, he was a man on a mission and he had repressed this conversation for way too long.

“I always miss you.”

And it was true, embarrassingly so. When you were on a case, Hotch decided against giving the two of you a shared hotel room, and every time, he had to fall asleep without your body heat next to him he felt as if there was some part of himself missing.

You gave him a peck on the cheek before you intertwined your fingers with Spencer’s and lead him to his couch where you rather ungracefully plumped down.

He joined you and your head immediately landed on his lap as a silent invitation for him to play with your hair which he happily obliged to.

“Can we watch ‘Love, Simon’ today?”

“Yes! I’ve only been begging you to watch it for years,” you laughed while grabbing the hand that wasn’t massaging your temple and holding it in yours.

He laughed too but it was filled with anxiety and you heard it because of course you did. Others might no be able to make out when he was uncomfortable but you always knew when to press him and when to leave him alone.

“We don’t have to watch that movie if you really don’t want to, babe,” you said as you propped yourself up to sit next to him again, all while never letting go of his hand.

“It’s not that. I just-”

Well, it’s now or never.

“I’m bisexual,” he blurted out, surprising himself with the sudden statement, and when he hesitantly locked eyes with yours there was none of the judgment or disgust he feared.

There was just love and understanding like there always was.

You were just about to say something before he gave you a look that clearly signaled to just let him talk for a bit and you answered the silent request with a soft smile and a gentle squeeze on his hand.

“I don’t know, I just used to have this crush on a boy when I was younger and I was confused because I only ever saw heterosexual couples, you know?” You nodded and that reassuring smile on your face never seemed to falter even a little bit, you looked almost proud of him.

“And then I got older and I started liking women too and I was even more confused because like who exactly do I like now?”

Sometimes during meetings in the briefing room or on the jet, you randomly held hands and squeezed them three time as a reminder that you loved each other without having to actually say it and that’s what you did during the brief amount of silence.

“When I was in high school liking boys was always associated with something bad so I just assumed that it was bad and tried my hardest to just suppress it.”

Spencer squeezed your hand three times too and took a deep breath. Seemed that even a genius like him could miscalculate and in this case it was the toll this secret had on him.

“But then I got older and realized that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to the same sex, and so I kind of accepted it even though I still had no idea what my sexuality was. It was just one of those I’ll deal with it later type of things.”

When he looked into your eyes again, you looked at him with so much tenderness that he felt as if his heart might burst out of his chest, even if that was biologically impossible.

“I had a boyfriend when I was in college, his name was Ethan and I loved him but it just didn’t work out. I never told anyone because I was afraid I think?”

He remembered the time of sneaking around and lying to his mother when she spotted a hickey on his neck during one of her visits, the frustration because all he wanted was to show the world the love they shared like every other ordinary couple.

But he also remembered the clandestine meetings, muttered I love you’s that were for no one else to hear and the feeling of falling in love for the first time.

“And then I was confused again because I still liked women too and then I met you and I fell in love with you the second I laid eyes on you honestly and then I thought that maybe it was just like a non-sexual thing but I am sexually attracted to you, I mean we have sex. I like having sex with you!”

You chuckled but it was not out of malice or disgust it was just there, floating in the air filling his body with a warmth that not even his thickest sweater could provide.

“Baby, breathe. It’s just me.”

You brought his knuckles up to your mouth to press a kiss to each of them and that simple gesture managed to calm Spencer’s nerve immensely.

“You were so open with your sexuality and I guess it just kind of made sense? And I know that some women have problems with men who like men and maybe you’re disgusted with me because I used to be with a man and I’m like not the manliest man and and sometimes I think about painting my nails because it seems kind of fun and-”

The thing about Spencer’s rambling was that he couldn’t stop. He wanted to especially when he saw the annoyance on everyone’s faces but you were always there to listen to him, even if you had no idea what he was talking about but as you felt his anxiety worsen with every word that left his lips, you interrupted him for the first time ever.

“I’m not disgusted at all. I love and accept everything about you and that includes your sexuality. Thank you for being open with me, I know hard that can be with for you. I’m very proud of you.”

You emphasized your statement by pulling him in for a kiss and that was the first time that Spencer noticed that he was crying, but you kissed him with all the tenderness in the world, wordlessly wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek.

“You’re the most perfect man I know. I don’t care if you’re not the most manliest man to me you’re perfect and the love of my life,” you whispered against his lips and Spencer could only reply by deepening the kiss and trying to get you as close to him as humanly possible.

There was no rush or expectations, you were kissing as if you had every time in the world and the kiss was a silent promise that you still loved him no matter what.

And for the first time in what felt like ages, Spencer could finally breathe. Silence filled the room but it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. You had placed Spencer’s head on your chest and played with his hair while occasionally peppering him with kisses, only a few reassurances and I love you’s accompanying the stirring DVD player.

“Did you mean what you said about wanting to paint your nails?” you asked after a few minutes passed and Spencer had wrapped his arms around your waist as if you were the anchor to a sinking ship.

Spencer chuckled not even remembering what he said during his ramble. “I guess so. Why?”

The thought did cross his mind from time to time, especially when he saw your impressive collection of various nail polish. He never cared much about other’s perception of his masculinity and Spencer realized that his fair of not being manly enough for you was nothing but utterly stupid.

“Do you want me to do it?”

He shyly nodded and a smile filled your face as you took his hand to examine it, probably debating in your head which colour would fit him most.

And as you left the room to search for the most beautiful purple you could find, Spencer sat in the living room, happiness spreading through every fiber of his being because for the first time he knew what it felt like to be unconditionally loved.

Both of you weren’t perfect but there were no more secrets left lurking in the shadows and he knew that as long as you wanted him, he’d always be yours.

You were the first person to truly accept and love him. All of him, and he never wanted to lose that.

As he sat in the living room, you sitting on his lap and looked at your fingers as you painted his in a dark shade of purple, he decided that it wouldn’t be long until the most beautiful ring he could find would adorn your ring finger.

[juniorgman187]

Never Enough (Spencer Reid Drabble)

Summary: Ever wondered what Garcia wrote on that sticky note in the series finale? Read here to find out. When Reader, the new technical analyst, feels out of place at a party, Penelope’s sticky note and Reid’s kind words do just the trick.

A/N: This is a comfort piece for me, someone very introverted who never seems to do well in social gatherings. So this is dedicated to anyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t belong. You are loved. Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff, Drabble Content Warning: Fear of exclusion, loneliness Word Count: 2.4k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All my life, all I’d ever wanted was to be a social butterfly. Their lives seemed so easy. People would naturally flock to them, what with their charisma, their confidence, their natural gift of being conversational.

I envied them for the sole reason that I was nothing like them, not in the slightest.

It wasn’t easy for me to keep a conversation going, even if I was trying my very hardest, which was often the case. I could never seem to commandeer the room in the way that someone extroverted could, and it was especially hard sometimes to feel a part of everyone.

It would be too easy to say I was invisible. Instead, I felt painfully visible, and entirely ignored.

Everyone could see my shyness peeking through, everyone could see how alienated I’d become, everyone could see my despondence, and yet no one bothered to change it.

No one cared.

My excruciating awkwardness had reached an all-time high at Krystall’s birthday party.

Agent Rossi was so keen on inviting me, and I was honored to go since it’d be my first bonding experience with the team outside of work. I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to grow closer to them, otherwise, I’d run the risk of isolating myself even more. As if being brought in as the BAU’s new technical analyst to replace Penelope Garcia wasn’t enough of a reason for them to doubt, despise, and disrespect me, I was the introvert who had a hard time making friends - unlike my predecessor, who’ve I heard could make friends like nobody’s business. I knew I could never fill her shoes, much less fill the glaring void she created when she left, but still, I maintained my bright-eyes in hopes that I’d be enough for them, anyway. I was all too eager to get to know everyone as more than just my coworkers, with one exception.

Dr. Reid maintained an arm’s length distance from me at all times, and at first, I understood. I even empathized with him.

Besides SSA Morgan and SSA Hotchner, the only other person that he’d work the longest with was Penelope, and now she was gone, too, but the longer his rejection of me lasted, the more I was curious what he truly had against me, and the more I was less interested in changing that. Why would I work tirelessly at mending this broken friendship, if he wasn’t willing to meet me halfway?

I was more shocked that he, of all people, would be the most displeased with my arrival. When Agent Rossi replaced Agent Gideon, from what I heard, the transition wasn’t as rocky as mine. Dr. Reid was overjoyed to be working with him and to discuss all his books. When Jordan Todd, and eventually Ashley Seaver, took Agent Jareau’s place momentarily, he was happy to be working with them. When Alex Blake and Kate Callahan came in after Emily Prentiss, he welcomed them with open arms. So what was it about me that was so abhorrent to him?

I never outright asked, mainly because I feared confrontation and I also had no way of knowing if my curiosity would make the situation worse or better. But I should’ve. I should’ve marched right up to him and asked, “What’s your problem?”

Somehow, though, I finally got up the courage to do so tonight.

I watched as the team laughed at one of Rossi’s anecdotes, meanwhile, the inside jokes flew over my head, hindering that bonding experience I was so sure I’d get by coming here. So I stepped inside the house, wandering into a spare room, knowing I wouldn’t be missed.

I thought I’d only be there for a moment to get some “fresh air” even though I’d actually migrated from the outside to the inside, where there’d arguably be less fresh air, but that’d be my excuse if anyone came in. But I was forced to stay longer in the office when it finally happened.

I finally reached my breaking point.

It was building up all night. It started when I first stepped into the house. My confidence faltered almost immediately when I accidentally stepped on Rossi’s Italian leather dress shoe as I went to greet him. He told me not to worry, but of course, I did just the opposite. It was a minor bump in the road, something so minute, but still, it weighed on me thinking about how embarrassing it was that I dirtied something of his that everyone recognized as valuable.

My shame didn’t stop there. As I was talking with Krystall, there were many periods of awkward silence that I couldn’t manage to fill with words, so we each sipped at our wine until one of us would try to pick up the conversation. What’s worse was that we each knew the silence was suffocating, and I could tell we were both thinking of things to say to keep the conversation going, and yet, nothing worth saying came to mind.

And worst of all was when Penelope Garcia finally arrived at the party. Don’t misunderstand me - it wasn’t the worst part of all because she was bad - no, she was lovely. She gave me a welcome present - a Beanie Baby to put on my desk, evocative of her own style of decor, and I loved her for it, which made me hate her all the more.

Rossi’s house livened up when she came. Everyone flocked to greet her, laughter erupted and ricocheted off Rossi’s high ceilings. They were positively elated by her presence, truly happy. Which was the first time I’d ever seen them that way because frankly, they were never that happy with me.

It was a painful reminder that I could never bring what she brought to the team, and I could never be as good as her. And the general consensus I reached, sitting in Rossi’s office all alone with my glass of wine, was the same one I’d known for years now - I’m not enough.

And I will never be enough.

I hadn’t realized I was crying until a tear cascaded down my cheek, dripping right under my nose, forcing me to audibly sniffle it away. Using the sleeve of my cardigan, I desperately tried to wipe away the tears faster than they were spilling out, but it just wasn’t possible. In fact, the coarse fabric of my cardigan rubbing against my cheeks only made them redder, making the fact that I was unwell that much more obvious.

The sound of the doorknob turning sent me into overdrive, automatically engaging me into turning around and facing the wall so that whoever was coming in wouldn’t find me in the state that I was in. I sniffled a great big sniffle and fanned my face to dry it of any moisture that my silent sobs could’ve left.

“Sorry, Rossi, I was just getting some fresh air and I thought I’d check out your book collectio-”

When I turned around, Rossi wasn’t standing there as I’d assumed.

In fact, the person standing there was the last person I thought it’d be.

“Dr. Reid?”

He was lingering in the doorway, studying my face, to which I instantly preventing from continuing on any further by cowering my head and looking away.

“What are you doing here?” My voice had taken a tone of anger that I didn’t anticipate to be there originally.

“Are you okay?”

To my surprise, his question seemed sincere, but I couldn’t truly believe it was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just allergies from being outside for so long. The pollen and stuff, you know?” I rambled nervously.

“Oh, really? Are you allergic to the grass?” He asked in a joking manner, knowing I was lying but still asking so that he’d have the satisfaction of getting to see me try and work my way out of the situation.

“Yes, I am actually. The most common outdoor allergy triggers are trees, grass, weed pollen, mold spores, dust mites, cockroaches, and cat, dog, and rodent dander. Don’t you know this? After all, you’re the one with the IQ of 187 here, not me.” I tried to joke to lighten up the room’s heaviness, but clearly, it didn’t work.

By this time, I’d already turned back to face the wall, so Reid surely couldn’t see me, but I heard the door click shut behind me, and a wave of anxiety permeated my soul.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

I scoffed at his question, almost hitting him back with an “As if you care.” But I decided against it in an effort to preserve what little repose we had left between us.

“Will you please tell me what’s wrong?” He sounded like he was begging - like he was practically willing to go on his hands and knees to get me to answer, but all I could focus on was the feeling of his hot breath ghosting over my neck.

Goosebumps rose on my skins once he put his warm hand on my cold shoulder, which was bare from the absence of my cardigan and where it had slipped down to my elbow.

I flinched at the sensation, causing him to recoil.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He quickly apologized, regret filling his eyes. “Um, you look nice by the way. I like the way you did your hair. A-and your dress. It looks nice.”

Not even giving a chance to respond to his compliment, I asked again, “Why are you here?” Pressing him to get the point faster before I had a chance to react at another one of his physical advances.

“I saw you leave the backyard and I thought I should check on you.”

“Well, you’ve checked on me, so you can go back now.” I didn’t miss a beat when responding, fooling him into thinking that I didn’t catch his words and their intentions.

“I just want to talk.” He replied, finally answering my question from before.

“Okay. Let’s talk.”

He took a seat on a chaise lounge sofa while I stayed standing by the bookcase in preparation for a quick escape if need be.

“I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you away. That wasn’t fair of me.”

Although I hadn’t expected him to apologize, I wasn’t going to be misled and naively accept his apology with no reservations.

“Why did you do it? And for so long?”

“I was angry. I didn’t want another person in my life that I cared about to walk away, so I thought maybe if I made you feel unwelcome, you wouldn’t want to stay. And she’d come back.”

It hurt to say, but at least I knew he was being honest.

“I accept your apology, but it’s not okay.”

“I know that.”

“Okay, are we good now? We’ve talked, so,” My hand gestured toward the door, suggesting he should leave, but he didn’t comply.

“I’m not leaving.”

“And why not?” The wine glass in my hand nearly shattered at the way my hand wrapped around it since its presence hindered me from being able to actually clench my fists.

“I didn’t come here to apologize, even though I should’ve sooner. But I came here because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Like you care.” I chuckled mirthlessly.

“I do care.”

I gave in, not wanting to fight him any longer, otherwise, I might cry some more from the altercation.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” He shook his head. “I know you’re not fine. What’s really wrong, Y/N?”

I looked away immediately from his gaze, trying to hide the sheen that was inevitably coating my eyes from the presence of tears, but he would’ve known I was crying the minute I used the cuff of my cardigan to wipe under my nose again.

“I just . . . I feel so unconnected,” I whispered, the pain of my words stealing my volume. “I don’t fit in. And I’ve never fit in before, but I actually thought this might be my chance.”

“It still is. Just come back outside.”

“You don’t get it!”

“What don’t I get?”

“I just needed to take a moment to compose myself so I wouldn’t ruin the energy of the room. And I’d really like to do that alone, okay?”

“I know you don’t want me to go.”

“What?”

“You’re testing me to see if I’ll stay.”

“No, I’m not.”

“So you’re saying that if I left right now, you wouldn’t regret letting me walk away?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I know you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are. I know what it looks like when you lie. Wanna know how I know?”

I entertained his question out of pure frustration “How?”

“Because I pay attention to you. I see your mannerisms. I notice everything. Do you think I haven’t picked up on how you crack your knuckles when you’re nervous? Or how your stutter goes away when you talk about technology? Or how your fists clench, like how you’re doing right now?”

My eyes flickered to my fist that was wrapped so tightly around the glass, my knuckles were white. Out of shame, I loosened my grip.

“I pay attention because I care. And I’m sorry that I made you ever believe that I didn’t. What you do, and say, and think - it’s important. So no, I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here to give you the attention you deserve.” He sighed with a breath of relief. “I care more about you than whatever’s happening out there.”

And slowly, then all at once, that barrier between us broke down.

“I care about you. We all do. And when you’re ready, we can walk back out there together so that you can see for yourself just how much we care.”

. . . That night, I made nine more friends.

And the day we came back to work, with my Beanie Baby in hand, I rearranged my desk.

A folded up sticky note fell out from between two tables. I picked it up, recognizing the handwriting instantly.

Penelope Garcia.

Even when the laughter always seems to come from the other room and the world seems busy as it carries on without you, may you know this to be true. No matter who or what made you feel invisible, unworthy, unloved, or unseen, in this ever-moving world, there is still a place for you. And you are exactly in the place where you are meant to be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

quote by morgan harper nichols

[bau-hugs]

Hi I love your headcannons, so could you do some for Reid being adopted by Hotch? Like when he was a child Hotch and Haley adopts Reid because they thought they couldn't have children after many years of trying, then they had Jack.

hi! I will preface this by saying that besides what’s posted below, @penemily has an au tag where hotch has adopted most of the bau, so go make sure to check out their stuff if you haven’t already

Spencer ends up in foster care because after his father left, his mother got institutionalized and nobody was available to take Reid in

He went through 8 different homes before ending up at the Hotchners’ doorstep, cowering behind his social worker when Aaron—probably one of the most intimidating men Spencer’s ever seen—towers over him and Haley stands at his side, inviting them in despite Reid’s obvious wariness

It’s by far the nicest house he’s ever stayed at and it takes him a long time to adjust to the things the Hotchners afford him (he’s got his own bathroom, a luxury he’s never had in his entire life, and also has no idea what do with all of the space he has in his bedroom). He’s constantly double-checking and triple-checking with Hotch or Haley before he does anything at all—it takes months before Spencer is even comfortable enough to grab food out of the pantry without asking first

They enroll Spencer in a private school and put a lot of effort into fostering a healthy learning environment for Reid because it’s very obvious, despite his hesitance to show it, that he’s a genius (Hotch and Haley both listen to Reid when he rants about his interests, asking questions and probing him to continue when he gets embarrassed about talking so much). They have no problem paying to further his education although Spencer feels guilty when he starts university classes and the bills get a lot heftier

Spencer looks up to Hotch and wants to be like him, so he tried wearing little suits only to promptly discover that they aren’t comfortable and quickly revert back to the soft sweaters and corduroy pants he loves

Hotch takes Reid to work one day after a couple years of him staying with Haley and him—Hotch claims it’s because he’s trying to recruit his genius son into the BAU but really he just wants to show Spencer off to all of his work buddies—and Reid instantly becomes obsessed with the place (Haley finds his fascination with understanding and profiling serial killers a little morbid but Hotch is thrilled). It comes as a surprise to nobody when Spencer starts working at the BAU after graduating

His presence becomes a regular occurrence as he grows up and one of Hotch’s desk drawers is filled with stim toys for Spencer, a fair Number of which have been presents from a very doting Penelope Garcia, and Hotch normally has a few stored away in his briefcase just to be safe

Reid has long been moved out by the time Haley becomes pregnant—although he visits at least once a week for a home-cooked meal and he still sees Hotch every day at work—but still, the first person they tell is Spencer (he immediately starts crying and Hotch thinks he’s upset until Reid just looks up and says, “I’m going to have a brother?”)

Reid spends the rest of Haley’s 9 months reciting pregnancy and birthing facts whenever he gets the opportunity (eventually Hotch has to tell him to stop because he’s starting to freak Haley out with all the statistics about birth defects and complications). When the day finally comes, Spencer is one of the first people to get to hold Jack

Spencer ends up spending a lot more time at Haley and Hotch’s house after Jack is born—he wants to spend as much time with his new little brother as possible—and helps out in anyway he can to take the burden off of them (the first time Jack says the word “Spencer,” even if it was half-slurred by baby-babble, Reid spends an hour after that repeating his name in varying octave to see if Jack will say it again)

Haley and Hotch hide the divorce from Spencer as long as they can until he ends up confronting them, knowing they’re hiding something from him. He doesn’t speak to either of them for several weeks after he finds out and the only reason he visits them during that time is to see Jack

Logically, he knows he’s not to blame for their split, but he still feels kind of responsible like, he gets to spend most of his day with Hotch at work and doesn’t see Haley as much as he’d like, and he‘s nervous that he’s around Hotch too much and maybe they’re just tired of him, not eachother and they’re divorcing in hopes that the he’ll stay with the other person and leave them alone

Even once he does start talking to them again he’s still sort of distant with them because even though he doesn’t live with them anymore he feels like he’s gonna get left all alone again and he’s scared that if he’s around them too much they’ll get annoyed and leave

After Foyet, Spencer makes sure to leave flowers on her grave at least once every fortnight and just spends time talking to her about what’s going on in his life—he didn’t talk to her enough before she died so now he’s doing his best to make up for it

[cutiepisenpai]

Gifted part 7

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, happier ending.

“Do I know you?” Y/N asks Spencer. “You don’t remember me?” Spencer asks in return. “I’m sorry no, should I?” A doctor walks in and gestures to Spencer. He steps out of the room taking one last look at Y/N. “I’m sorry Dr. Reid I wanted to speak to you before.” The doctor says. “She has amnesia?” Spencer phrases it as a question but he already knows the answer. “Yes she is missing time. When we asked her some questions about what she thinks happened she doesn’t remember getting shot, she actually thinks it’s nearly two years ago.” Spencer is devastated, he doesn’t know what he should do now, he feels a hand on his shoulder. “There is always the possibility that the memories will come back eventually, it has only been a few hours and she is still recovering.” The doctor says before leaving. Spencer stands there feeling lost. He knows the person he loves is in there somewhere but can he handle her not remembering  the BAU or the time they have shared or him. He takes a deep breath before walking back into the room trying his best to fake a smile. He walks in and immediately makes eye contact with her eyebrows scrunch and she squints having already come to conclusion. “You shouldn’t smile if you aren’t happy.” At her comment his face falls, disappointment apparent. “I take it that we do know each other. The doctors won't tell me anything but I can tell something is wrong. I’m missing time but the head injury is the most likely reason for that.” Y/N says pointing at the bandage on her head covering the stitches. She pokes at the bandage wincing at the feeling, Spencer reacts before he realizes what he is doing. “You should probably leave that alone.” He says grabbing her hand and pulling it away from the wound. To his surprise she doesn’t pull away simply looking confused but interested. “Um, how do we know each other?” She asks. Should he tell her the truth he ponders. “We um we work together at the BAU.” He answers. “The BAU? Why would I be at the BAU?” She questions irritation obvious in her voice. He did not understand why being at the BAU would be a bad thing, she always seemed happy at the BAU. “So we work together? Is that all?” She asked. And he just nods in response but he knows her face and he knows she isn’t convinced. A doctor came in to tell Spencer that Y/N needed to rest and if he wanted he could come back the next day to visit. He told her he would try to be back the next day if he could before he left. 

Y/N sat in the hospital room and she felt lost. The man who came to visit her earlier, there was nothing familiar about him but his presence was comforting. The nurses and doctors had all been keeping their distance only coming in to ask questions and poke at her with needles. She hadn’t even seen her mother and based on the band on her wrist she should be around here somewhere of course she could also be at home. Except that Y/N’s entire childhood consisted of her and her brother always being in the care of their nanny she had her doubts about that. So she sits here trying to remember what happened before. They told her she had been shot multiple times but that doesn’t make sense to her. In her line of work the chances of actually getting shot are slim; she is rarely in the field and in the few instances that she is, she is so always well concealed and has never had a bullet ever fly in her direction before. The BAU of course He had mentioned that she ponders how that came to be. What was the last she remembers? No one thing really stands out, was it spring, maybe sunny days warming the city. Are people picnicking in the park or are they hiding under their umbrellas and coats staying out of the rain? She truly had no idea. Y/N was tempted to go and ask the nurses for a pencil and a piece of paper so she could attempt at recreating a timeline but they had already warned her about how getting up and moving around should be limited, that even crossing the room could feel like running a mile. Would they even give her the supplies a nurse has already come in four times to tell her she needs to sleep to get some rest but that is the last thing she wants right now. Right now she needs answers. 

When Spencer was leaving the hospital he called Hotch to inform him of where he had gone, he also asked if he could have the rest of the day off not explaining why. The doctors would let Hotch know about Y/N and Hotch would tell the rest of the team. He just couldn’t will himself to go back into work right now. When he steps in his apartment he regrets being there. When he looked around he saw reminders of her everywhere. The unfinished chess game they had started, books she brought over for him to read, the blanket that sat on his couch from her apartment. She was everywhere and nowhere at all. All of the emotions he had suppressed over the weeks came rushing forward and hitting him like a massive wave. He doesn’t know how he got on the ground, sitting here back against the door tears streaming down his face. He was crying so hard he could feel his throat tighten making it hard to swallow. He thought of the way she looked at him, like he was a complete stranger because that was what he was to her now, a stranger. 

Weeks had passed but Spencer never went back to the hospital despite the entire team trying to convince him, it was just too much to bear. Y/N had declined seeing anyone else from the team she hadn’t shown back up to work either, they weren’t sure if she would ever return. Spencer’s life had become unbearable every night he laid awake kicking himself that he never went to see her. He knew that she was also adjusting to the new normal that it was. After the first week he packed her things that were at his apartment and hid them in the back of his closet but it didn’t help. He spent too many days laying in his bed unmotivated to do anything. He knew there were things he needed to be doing but he just couldn’t get up. Everything was too much he would get in the shower and just stand there as the water poured over his body, his already poor eating habits became worse only eating occasionally but even then he usually just picked at the food before him. He even tried reading but the words on the pages were meaningless. Spencer did keep up with work, he showed up on time and put in a great amount of effort to help solve their cases the team however were still worried about him. After the fourth week Hotch intervened telling Spencer to take some time to himself, just a few days to get his mind in the right place.

Spencer returned to work after taking his mandatory leave, he hadn’t slept much he would lie in bed awake hoping for slumber that never came and it showed. The amount of coffee he was now consuming was concerning. He had already had two cups before coming into work and now here he was in the kitchenette getting another cup. “Spence, you really need to rest.” JJ tell him. “I’m fine JJ.” He says walking back to his desk and putting his head down. He lifts his head when the room becomes frighteningly silent. He turns his head to see Y/N walking into the bullpen. When Gracia sees her she runs up to her to pull her into a hug but Y/N flinches back startled. Spencer can see the disappointment on Garcia’s face, “Oh I’m sorry I guess you don’t remember me.” Garcia says. Y/N pulls her lips into a tight line. “No sorry” She extends her hand out to Garcia, “I’m Y/N” Garcia takes her hand with a smile, “Penelope Garcia” Right then Rossi walks up and Y/N eyes shine bright in familiarity, “Oh hey Agent Rossi. It’s good to see you again.” “It’s good to see you as well. Hotch is waiting if you’re ready.” He says. She walks away with him heading in the direction of Hotch’s office. “What do you think is happening?” Prentiss asks. “She’s here that has to be a good sign. Right? Maybe some of her memories already came back.” Garcia says words filled with hope. Spencer did not want to have false hope. She had just been standing no more than five feet away from here but she could have practically been on the other side of the world. 

It turned out that so far none of Y/N’s memory had returned but she was in fact returning to work. She wouldn’t be working in the field she would be working from Quantico assisting Garcia. Spencer was nervous he wanted nothing more than to be near her but he also despised the memories that flooded forward when she was near. When she sat at her desk fiddling with the knick knacks she had received from Garcia and then he saw her pick up the photo of him and her that sat on her desk. He had forgotten it was there, she examined it closely and then turned making direct eye contact. Spencer felt like he was being interrogated but she said nothing, he got up and walked away to Garcia’s office just to not sit there like a fool. Luckily for him not long after the team got a case and he had an escape from her. 

Y/N was in Garcia’s Batcave offering her assistance. “I’m sorry about this morning.” Y/N says. “Oh it’s okay really. I’m sorry I was just so happy to see you I forgot about the memory loss thing.” Her comment makes Y/N laugh, “What?” Garcia asks. “Sorry stupid joke in my own head. You forgot about the memory loss. I know it’s not very funny but it is to me.” Y/N explains and then Garcia chuckles with her. With the two of them working together they have a lot of time when the team doesn’t need them. Y/N may not have her memory of the cases they have worked together, she may not remember the teams members or the bonds that they share, but she is still a genius and works just as fast as Garcia on a computer. While they are waiting to hear back from the team she decides to ask Garcia some questions, “Hey Garcia, how well would you say that you knew me or know me?” “I would say that I know you pretty well, we’re besties.” Y/N nods along listening to her as she tells stories about when they first met, the cases they have worked, and their time together outside of work. She is happy that Garcia is so forthcoming with information; when her mother finally did show up at the hospital she wouldn’t tell her anything at first and once she finally did Y/N couldn’t believe how much time she was missing. Nearly two years of her life gone in an instant, when she tried asking her mom about her life she didn’t have any answers which wasn’t surprising their family wasn’t close she only saw her parents on holidays if even then. She didn’t really have friends, acquaintances were made over the years, in her youth her peers were not her age and nineteen year old college students did not want to hang out with some kid. And then there was her work with the DoD, she detested it and because of that she never made close bonds with anyone. People would describe her as a recluse, but here she apparently made friends, close friends, she had only observed them for a short time but she could tell the team was like a family. And then there is Dr. Reid, he had been avoiding her and she wasn’t sure why based on the photo she found on her desk it would appear they are good friends so why was he hiding from her. “What’s my relationship with Dr. Reid like?” Y/N asks. Garcia is unsure of how to answer, she knows that she’ll find out the truth eventually but would telling her now make things better or worse for Y/N and Reid. Garcia wants nothing more than to see the two young geniuses happy and in love again, “You two are a close as can be. I think it’s the genius thing you almost have your own language.” Garcia says. That wasn’t what Y/N meant but she thought it best not to press the subject for now. She knew there was more than what anyone was willing to tell her. When she was released from the hospital and went home things were different. She found things that didn’t belong to her and from what she has seen so far she was sure those items belonged to him. But the question constantly racking her brain is there more to their relationship than everyone is letting on or is she misreading the situation. 

Two more weeks had passed and it seemed like things were returning to normal. Y/N had gotten into a good rhythm with the rest of the team even with being in confined to the BAU offices. She had gotten closest with Penelope but that accounted to them working side by side in her office. She had spoken with Spencer a few times only getting out niceties before he would flee. She had tried calling him to discuss the case in place of Garcia once and he rushed her off the phone. This was Y/N first case back in the field with the team, finally having been medically cleared. Y/N was in the kitchenette talking with Garcia and Prentiss, “Come on it’s just one night you’ll have fun.” Garcia pleads they are trying to convince her to join them for girl’s night. “I don’t think I will. I can’t drink with the medication I’m on” She explains. They let it go for now, Spencer walks in looking completely exhausted Prentiss and Garcia greet him but Y/N doesn’t, tired of him blatantly ignoring her if the discussion is not about work. When she sees him pouring nearly an entire cup of sugar into the mug of coffee she comments, “You keep pouring sugar in like that and it will turn to molasses.” When the words come out she stops feeling like this has happened before but she shakes the idea from her head walking to her desk. Spencer is not lost on the comment, he could remember the date, the time, he can even remember what she was wearing when she said that to him before. When Spencer gets to his desk he sees a bag of trail mix waiting for him, he doesn’t need to ask who left it here he already knows and he is grateful. 

Working their current case Spencer’s gaze stays on Y/N after the conversation that morning. It is the smallest glimpse of hope but he holds onto it. Even though she is cleared to work in the field Hotch had Y/N working at the precinct with Spencer. He had been avoiding her for so long it was awkward to be near her again almost like when they first met again. Y/N was working on the geographic profile with him she was trying to set a pin but the point was to high on the board, Spencer walks up behind her and to help her put the pin in the correct spot but he got too close with no warning and when he placed his hand on her, her elbow shot back shoving into his abdomen and he falls to the floor. “Shit! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that.” She says leaning down to check on him, “Are you okay?” He looks at her and her eyebrows are scrunched in frustration as she looks down at him. “I’m alright.” he groans, getting up from the ground. She is lifting the bottom of his shirt frantically and he is trying to push her hands away, “What are you doing?” His voice comes out as a squeak. “I’m making sure I didn’t hurt you. Internal bleeding can lead to organ failure, coma, and even death.” He laughs at her explanation. “I doubt you elbowed me hard enough to cause internal bleeding.” “Do you have a medical degree?” She asks condescendingly. “No and neither do you.” He says. The rest of the team has just gotten back and walked in to hear this argument, they are happy to see something familiar between the two. The team after successfully finding and arresting the unsub is on the jet heading back home. Spencer decided to challenge Y/N to a game of chess, “Check in 5.” He tells her, she moves a piece, “Checkmate in 3” She says with a smirk. He had already lost 4 games to her and with each win she became increasingly unbearable her superior attitude becoming more prevalent. They were sitting alone thankfully being unbothered by anyone on the team. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” Spencer asks. “I have a date.” She answers, not looking up still examining the board. Spencer’s ray of hope was snuffed out. “A date?” He asks. “Mhm, Garcia suggested it. And someone I see at the coffee shop by my house asked. So what’s the harm?” Y/N shrugs. Garcia suggested it was where Spencer’s brain was stuck. Why would she do that? It made no sense. When the plane landed almost everyone rushed to cars to head home, Hotch of course had paperwork to do and Spencer needed to talk to Garcia. “Hey boy wonder, what are you doing here?” “Did you tell Y/N she should go on a date?” “Yes, oh did you ask her? Did she say yes?” She asks excitedly. “She is going on a date with someone else? Why would you tell her to do that?” “I didn't. I told her to consider going on a date so that I could convince you to ask her on a date. I didn’t think she would agree to go with someone else. That wasn’t a part of the plan. Spencer is mad and storms out her office. He spends his weekend trying not to think of Y/N or her date. 

On Monday, Spencer got to work extra early not being able to sleep much. The only other person there so far was Hotch already working away in his office. When Y/N walks into the office she quietly walks over and sits at her desk and then she turns around and Spencer sees the large bruise on her face and he rushes over to her. “What happened?! Did this happen on your date?!” He asks frantically, grabbing a hold of her face and when he does his thumb grazes the bruise and she winces, “Ow! ow! Ow! Let go!” She yells, shoving his hand away. “No this did not happen on my date that guy was a total bore. This happened while boxing this morning.” “You should really have someone take a look at that.” He says, “I can go down to medical with you.” “I’m fine really. I don’t need to go anywhere.” “You had a traumatic brain injury before you need a medical professional to look at that. I can just go tell Hotch you know.” “Really? How old are you? You’re going to tell on me if I don’t go have my face examined.” “Yes.” “Ugh fine. Let’s go” She grumbles as the head to the elevator. In the elevator it’s silent, “Did you know that there are six elevator related deaths per year.” Spencer says. Y/N has heard that before it's so familiar yet so distant. “You chose now to bring that up.” The nurse checks out the injury and says it looks fun but gives her an icepack and some ibuprofen, but Spencer insists that they check more thoroughly. “Would you leave them alone. They said I am fine just like I told you they would. Can we get back to work now.” Spencer is muttering about  how unbelievably stubborn she can be. She gets to the door holding it open, “Let’s go, honeybee.” Did he hear that right? “What did you say?” “I said let’s go.” When they get back upstairs Morgan sees them and rushes over, “What the hell happened? Who’s ass do I have to kick?” Y/N laughs, “No one. Relax I missed a block while boxing this morning. Dr. Know-it-all already made me go down to medical. They said I’m fine.” She says gesturing to Spencer. “How did you miss the block?” Morgan asks. “I got distracted and as you can see I learned from it.” What she didn’t tell them is that what distracted her was a fragment of a memory, they had been happening for a while but just fragments nothing was clear it was like trying to see through a shattered mirror. She would catch glimpses of her life, the life she can’t fully grasp and it was also causing her to develop sporadic headaches. They didn’t have a case so they were working out of the office today. Half way through the day Y/N lays her head down on the table, headache intensifying, she figured the blow to the head this morning was causing the added effect. Spencer comes over to check on her and when he sees her eyes watering and her wincing at the light he insists she goes to see a real doctor. Spencer drives her to the doctor and waits with her. She lays her head on his shoulder falling asleep while waiting. It is comfortable to most normal Spencer has felt in months. When they finally call her name he doesn’t want to let her go alone but it is also a private exam, “Are you coming?” She asks. “You want me in there with you?” “Yep, let’s go Doogie Howser” “Who?” He asks, trailing behind her. “Really? You don’t know who that is?” “No, Why would I” “Oh my god. Genius, eidetic memory, child prodigy, any of that sound familiar.” She asks while they sit in the exam room. “I mean that could describe me.” “Yes it can but it also describes the main character of the show. You have to watch that. We can have a movie night and binge watch it.” The wait isn’t too long before the doctor walks in, “Oh Dr. Y/L/N is everything alright. That’s quite the bruise you’ve got there.” The doctor says reaching for her face but she pulls away leaning out of reach. “My face is fine. The headaches…” She looks over to Spencer before continuing, “they are getting worse.” “Are you still remembering things in fragments?” The doctor asks. “Your memory is coming back.” Spencer interrupts. “Yes but it’s still not clear.” she answers. “Unfortunately the headaches are most likely caused by the returning memories and unless it was worse before today getting hit in the head this morning only aggravated that. I can prescribe something for the pain but can not do anything to prevent them.” The doctor explains. “No, I will just deal with it.” She says before getting up to leave. Now her and Spencer were sitting in the car he wasn’t ready to move just yet. “Why haven’t you told anyone that your memory is returning?” He asks. “There is no use in giving everyone false hope. The bits that I get don’t make sense.” She sighs, “You ever look through one of those kaleidoscopes when you were a kid?” Spencer nods. “That’s what it’s like there is a lot of information but not one single memory has come through clearly. It’s frustrating.” He doesn’t know what she is going through. He doesn’t know how she feels but he can still be a pillar of support. He wraps his hand around hers squeezing lightly, “So you have a show I need to watch?” 

[adamarks]

Penny’s relationship  troubles and how that relates to Simon and Baz

aka my Baz and Penny mirror post

I said I’d do this and god what a fucking emotional ride we’re about to go on. Strap in, my dudes.

In Carry On, it’s well-established that Penelope is Baz’s mirror character. She’s mostly static in the book (because it’s almost completely focused on Baz and Simon) and she’s used mainly as a literary device. Her mirroring Baz in particular is established very plainly. Both of them being top of the class; both of them geeking out over spells; both of them geeking out over marriage spells; their mothers both being headmasters; both of them getting out chalkboards and making the exact same types of lists. It’s very much in-your-face screaming in Carry On. 

It’s not so obvious in Wayward Son. 

The main reason for this is that Penny was upgraded from static to rounded in this book. She has an entire arc of doubting herself, which will most likely be completed in the next book. However, just because it’s not banging pots and pans in your face doesn’t mean the mirroring isn’t there. 

Let’s dig in.

Rainbow did something I really, really loved with this book: she made sure we know that happy endings aren’t what we’re told. The story doesn’t end because the Prince and Princess kissed-- how did they hang on? How did they make it to the hundredth kiss? Did they even make it to the hundredth kiss?

This book tells us that sometimes they don’t make it to the hundredth kiss.

This lesson is what’s got a lot of people’s panties in a knot. Here’s the thing though: it’s not a bleak lesson; it’s a warning. It’s a reminder that we have to keep trying; we have to want that hundredth kiss.

Simon and Baz want that hundredth kiss. They just don’t know how to get there. 

Wow guys I’m gonna have to struggle to not cry while writing this. Wish me luck.

Yes, the boys are morons that can’t communicate. How does Penny fit in?

She didn’t get to that hundredth kiss.

Micah and Penny are what happen when you just expect happily ever after to take care of getting you to the next kiss. 

Micah declares what the lesson Penny (assumedly with Shepherd Tornado Chaser Supreme) is going to learn about relationships is in Chapter twelve:

“A relationship isn’t about the end. It’s about being together every step of the way.”

This may be Penny’s lesson, but this is also a sort of (in my opinion) apology from Rainbow. Because, what was Baz and Simon getting together if not just a nice little tie up as part of a happy ending. What are queer consumers of media usually fed? Our representation usually dies, breaks up, or ends up together all happy go lucky right at the end. We don’t get to see characters we relate to struggle. We don’t get to see them still be miserably in love but unsure how to make it work when shit gets rough. 

Wayward Son is what happens when you don’t know how to keep going, but god do you want to. 

“I told you that I thought we’d grown apart--” 

“And I said that was natural!”

(also taken from Chapter 12 of Wayward)

Simon and Baz growing apart when Simon is so severely depressed and unable to communicate is natural. It’s natural, but it doesn’t mean that he’s going about it the right way. Simon is fucked up. He’s fucked up in a lot of ways, but (and this is coming from someone that’s struggled with the same kinds of thoughts Simon’s suffering from) that’s no excuse for him to hurt Baz in the process. 

Simon even realizes that this is a terrible way to go about this. It’s why he’s thinking about breaking up with Baz. 

i almost cried typing that just now rainbow why simon why i’m dying i-

BREAKING UP WITH BAZ IS NOT THE ANSWER, SIMON!!

Simon needs to learn how to communicate. How to talk about what he’s feeling and what he needs.

Here’s the thing though: Baz does too.

This is where Penny’s mirroring comes into play. Micah and Penny apparently didn’t talk for two whole months and she didn’t notice. They didn’t talk. They didn’t communicate. This is what killed their relationship.

This is what’s killing Simon and Baz’s.

In Chapter Fifteen we see Simon mulling over Penny and Micah breaking up:

“Penelope and Micah were going to get married. 

And now... Merlin, what now?”

I’ll come back to the concept of “endgames” throughout this series, but for now, apply that to Baz and Simon.

Baz and Simon were supposed to live happily ever after, but ever afters don’t work like that. So, now what?

Everything sucks. We are all in Pain. The dumbasses won’t talk. What do we DO, JAY? 

god, what do we do. suffer i guess idk. 

Okay but for real, we don’t have to worry. Rainbow knows what their issue is. And! She’ll make sure it’s resolved! How do I know? 

Well, I’ll tell ya.

Shepard.

We were introduced to a brand new, absolutely batshit, completely delightful character in Wayward. He’s spunky, he’s fun, but what does he do best?

Fucking. Talk.

He doesn’t shut the fuck up!! He’s completely honest and he just talks. Bitch will tell you his entire life story without batting an eye! This is what Penny needs. 

This is where Simon and Baz are going to end up. 

Perhaps not exactly, that doesn’t suit their personalities. This is what they’ll end up being, though: completely honest with each other. 

These fuckers are constantly thinking about each other throughout the book. 

“Oh he’s so beautiful.” “Oh he’s so charming.” “Oh he’s so funny and smart.” “Oh he’s so heroic and brave.” “Oh, i’d give him my whole being.” “Oh I wish he’d let me in” “Oh I love him so much.” “I love him.” 

They’d both feel so, so, so much better if they just said shit out loud. Good god. 

But neither of them are a) in a place where they can say it and b) in a place where they’ll believe it. 

This brings us to our next biggie:

Baz still doesn’t like himself.

Simon’s obviously having troubles with self loathing. That’s not even a question in anyone’s mind. Simon’s depression and lack of self worth is one of (if not the) main vocal points of the book. 

The issue with Simon’s sadness getting the spotlight is that we overlook Baz’s a bit. It’s thrown in so that we don’t notice immediately, because we’re not supposed to. Baz’s self-hatred isn’t as loud as Simon’s and he’s been dealing with it a lot longer. It’s a self-loathing he’s learned to live with-- he’s used to it by now. 

Sometimes the demons we learn to live with are the most vicious of all. 

I think it’s very clever that the most overt time we see Baz disliking himself is in his Things I Hate List in Chapter Fourteen.

“11. The wind in my hair.

 12. Convertible automobiles.

 13. Myself, most of all.

 14. My soft heart. 

 15. My foolish optimism.

 16. The words “road” and “trip,” when said together with any enthusiasm.”

It’s slipped in there awful sneaky! You’re giggling and going “oh thank god maybe I won’t be sad through the whole book” then BANG! there it is. But, right after we have “my soft heart” and you’re going “oh my poor baby he’s so sweet I love him” before you really had time to process number 13 as anything aside from an “lol i’m hot and icky and i hate myself” joke. 

Baz is used to hating himself. It’s everyday whatever. Simon’s is only louder because he’s not used to being allowed time to think about the bad stuff. Everyday before the end of Carry On for Simon was just struggling to get to the next day-- whether that was at Watford or a home. Simon’s happy when he doesn’t have to think; Baz can’t just not think. 

Penny’s just learned what doubting herself entails; Baz has been doubting himself for the last decade. 

No matter how much they coo at each other, it won’t fix the underlying issue: Baz and Simon don’t like themselves. 

This is the main internal conflict of the series for all of the characters: loving yourself for what you are. 

This brings us to Agatha. 

If you haven’t read my meta on simon being a dragon hell yes then you might want to. I discuss Agatha being a mirror for Simon fairly thoroughly in it. 

Remember how I told you to put a pin in the concept of  “endgames” earlier? Well, here we are. Agatha was supposed to be the “endgame.” 

Endgames! Are! Bullshit! 

Human beings are not our consolation prizes for getting through shit. Becoming stronger as people and loving ourselves more is our prize. Realizing how much you can withstand, how hard you can fight, how amazing you are for surviving is your prize for getting through it. 

None of these guys realize this yet. Agatha and Simon just think there’s nothing good that’s going to come out of their lives and Baz and Penelope just think that maybe their “prizes” weren’t what they thought they were. 

Maybe the rewards for our efforts were really just inside us the whole time. uwu.

Penny is just starting to think of plans again by the end of the book, but this time they’re looser, wilder, even more hairbrained than before and she really only has one plan at best! She’s learning that she can be strong and capable even when she doesn’t have all the facts and doesn’t have all the details thought through. Penny’s learning to loosen up. 

Baz is in a better place by the end of Wayward too. He’s learned so much about vampires and even himself. Like sure I fuckin’ hate Lamb but he helped Baz to realize that... maybe he isn’t a monster. Maybe magical creatures aren’t lesser. Maybe he’s not any less human just because he can drink their blood. 

They’re the only two that really, really develop in this book. Simon and Agatha change but mostly stay the same mentality-wise. Agatha still thinks she’s doomed to be a damsel in distress and Simon still thinks he’s just The Boy That Was. Baz and Penny are the most dynamic characters in Wayward Son.

I’m putting my money on next book being Agatha and Simon’s big development book. And at this point I’m convinced it’s going to be more than a trilogy. 

Now! Let’s talk about Agatha and Penny. 

@stressedidiot pointed out to me that Penny and Agatha holding hands and burning shit down in the last scene was supposed to call back to Baz and Simon. They’re absolutely right. I think the most important thing that was calling back to was Simon giving Baz his magic in Carry On. 

This parallel confused me at first: why would Rainbow need to remind us of that scene? I know I personally have the Ladybird and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star scenes permanently ingrained in my head forever. Obviously we didn’t forget that Simon could pour his magic. 

Here’s the thing. 

Baz and Simon don’t stay together during any of the fight scenes in this book. They always get separated or one of them gets hurt or they’re scrambling trying to find or catch the other one. 

They’ve forgotten that they work best when they’re together.

That was one of the main takeaways from Carry On. Simon and Baz work best when they’re together. 

“A relationship isn’t about the end. It’s about being together every step of the way.” 

Every! Step! Of! The! Way!

This is where my dragon Simon theory really comes into play. If Simon does end up with some sort of dragonesque powers, somehow Baz and him are going to share it. 

When Baz figures out how to drink from humans without killing them, Simon’s going to be right there, ready to open up a vein.

This is the true beauty of their relationship. Simon wants to be the one to lead the dance of kisses and intimacy and communication, and Baz wants to be there to give him anything he wants. Baz has received Simon’s magic; he’s gonna drink Simon’s blood; and he’s somehow going to receive something from Simon regarding this dragon business.

“I’d give him all that I am. 

I’d give him all that I was.

I’d open up a vein.”

They give and take and equal measures. They love each other wholly. I’m gesturing to my computer screen out of stress right now. They literally love each other that much!

Agatha and Penny sharing a magic conduit at the end of Wayward Son is a reminder of what happened between Simon and Baz and also foreshadowing of where they’ll be again.

Imagine how powerful they’ll be once they remember how to work together. 

They were practically unstoppable before when they worked together-- they turned back a dragon. 

But now their love for each other is stronger than ever. It’ll only grow once they finally talk. Once they communicate.

Two people, so strong separately coming together with only love and understanding for each other. 

With their hearts beating together, they could do more than turn back a dragon.

They could change the world.

check my meta about simon’s wings being The Gay

And also my one about the scarf

Thank you for reading this word vomit. Just wanted to tag a few people that might be interested in seeing this shitstorm of a meta:

@goodie-giving-gecko-gets-gatos @singerofsimplesongs @wisest-girl @watfordwallflower @slaying-fictional-dragons @carrybits

[highgaarden]

Lizzie/Landon - "I think I'm the first girl to break a bed with a guy, without even having sex with him while doing so." (pls let them break a bunch of other stuff while actually having sex)

two-shot! read and comment on ao3, please!

where you cast those stones you wear;

rating: explicit chapters: 1/2 characters: lizzie/landon; background klaus/caroline, background hope/landon, background josie/penelope; the whole SS gang.

where you cast those stones you wear

part i

----

“There you are.”

Lizzie’s smile is the fakest ass fake smile he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot of them.

It’s how she smiles when Wade asks her for donations to his Anime club. Or when Dr Saltzman caught all of them at the Old Mill trying to make moonshine (Kaleb’s idea). Her smiles are especially at their fakest when she wants to pull Hope away from him for some magical assistance to whatever trouble she’s managed to get herself—

—and Josie, and Alaric, Raf, MG, (himself, though she’ll never count him) and probably half the school along as well—

—that week. “Just the person I wanted to randomly bump into in study hall.”

“Really,” he deadpans, not believing her one bit.

He shifts his book just a little closer to his chest. He’s not nervous, but her energy is full of it sometimes, and sometimes it’s just energy personified that bounces off the calm he tries to fill his study hall with.

You know, where they’re supposed to study – in silence, preferably – but with Lizzie, there’s never much of silence.

It’s with a bit of a niggling discomfort that Landon realises he’s learned her tells: Lizzie can talk up a storm, always, but it’s in tense moments that she can’t seem to shut up. Not that he’d ever tell her to shut up; he doesn’t know why he always just wants to be nice to her, despite her printing out posters of VOTE ARTISANAL JAR OF MAYONNAISE FOR HOMECOMING KING last semester and sticking them all over school.

 —

 “Well?” Lizzie prompts, clicking her tongue.

Landon’s just sitting there, and for all his humble bragging about being at the top of their classes he’s just… sitting there, with a look that tells her he’s not quite registering what she’s just said to him.

“I’m—I’m sorry?” he finally says.

Lizzie sighs loudly enough for the entire study hall to send glares their way. Landon attempts to tamp down on their aggression, but all Lizzie does is just sigh louder.

Sorry, Landon mouths apologetically again, raising his hand at Wade, who looks close to crying over exam revision.

“Landon,” Lizzie says with finality.

“Lizzie,” Landon matches her tone. “I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to repeat yourself.”

Murder is the only word that comes to mind with the glare she sends his way. But she decides to humour him.

“Wow, that’s so weird. I feel like I’m just mishearing you. Again, please—hey, I said please.”

Lizzie’s mouth moves around the words she’s telling him.

Landon continues to stare at her blankly. “Sorry, there’s just this weird ringing in my ears. It sounds like you just asked me to be your boyfriend?”

 —

 Elizabeth Jenna Saltzman.

Asking him, resident emo-boy, a marginally competent bird as she always ‘fondly’ calls him, to be her esteemed partner.

“Am I hearing this right?”

Lizzie hisses right through her teeth, “Do not insult me, you moderately competent bird.”

See?

He lifts his book as if to deflect the blow of her mighty glare. “Look, I’m not! I’m just – are you feeling alright? Been getting enough sleep?”

“Two weeks have passed since my mom’s come back, and I have thoroughly exhausted every single mother-daughter bonding activity ever, and she’s moved on from Oh Lizzie, my favourite daughter, I’ve missed you so much snuggling to Who is this Sebastian your father keeps mentioning lectures.” Lizzie adds flippantly: “I’m not vibing with it.”

“Sebastian?”

“Super sexy perma-teen vampire but a complete misjudgement of character on my end.”

“And this isn’t?” Landon mumbles.

“I need to get my mother off my back, keep up.” Lizzie inches forward in her seat. The ends of her hair graze the table with how much she’s leaning towards him, making him look her in her wide, blue eyes. Always with the theatrics. “You’re just about at the exact opposite end of the Sebastian spectrum. Mopey, dependable, not obviously good looking, but your other qualities probably can make up for that. And you’re the kind of guy would probably wake up super early to get me a coffee and croissant before school, because that’s just how cheesy you are.”

“Thanks?”

“Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, it’s not just for my benefit either.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

Lizzie’s smile widens just a touch. “Heard your little crush on Hope just went up in flames.”

So is his face now, all puffed out and embarrassed. He lowers his voice and hisses, “How do you know about that?”

“Oh Landon. My sweet thrift store hobbit,” Lizzie sighs. “Everyone knows about it. You wear it like a badge of constant glumness. You didn’t speak to Jed for a whole week after he bought her a sandwich last week.”

“I could’ve bought her a sandwich too, big deal,” Landon mutters.

Lizzie raises a sharp finger and looks smug. “Ah, but you didn’t! See, my boy, you’ve got no game. Now imagine how much cooler your image would be if you were seen with resident popular girl,” she gestures to herself. “Your reputation would shoot up the ranks.”

“There are ranks?”

“Duh,” Lizzie says like it’s the most obvious thing. “And you, being a phoenix without actually possessing any unique phoenix qualities other than resurrecting – ”

“That’s not unique enough?”

“—looking like a pale artichoke in gym class doesn’t help, either. I am your salvation!” Lizzie finishes, hands on her hips and jaw raised like she’s standing centre-stage at their annual talent competition.

Landon narrows his eyes. “You think people will like me more if it looks like I’m dating you?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Move a little.” She takes a seat next to him gracefully, tucking her skirt under her thighs. “Listen. I need my mom to stop breathing down my neck. She’s been looking at me like she wants to give me the birds and the bees talk, with visual aid, flash cards and mini-theatre and I’d rather not go through that again. Once was more than enough. Pretty sure Dad wants her to exact power over my social life, since he doesn’t really have any say in that, and I’m looking at two semesters of constant surveillance. Or a twelve-step programme. And Professor M isn’t helping either—”

Landon shuts his book. “How does Professor M know about your love life?”

“Everyone knows about my love life, Landon. I’m interesting.” She rests an unwilling hand on his shoulder with a grimace. “And soon you will be too.”

“Because I’ll be dating you.”

“Fake dating,” Lizzie corrects primly.

“And you think Hope will like me, even though I’ll be unavailable?”

“There’s something to be said about wanting the unattainable, Landon. And trust me, you will be unattainable once you’re standing by my side.”

“Yeah, because everyone will think I’m nuts.”

“I resent that. Say yes.”

“Lizzie, I—” a panicked, helpless sort of look crosses Landon’s face. “This is really dishonest; I don’t think we should be…”

“Let me do the thinking for both of us, alright Little Bird?” Lizzie snips. “Getting back in my parents’ good books, the teachers off my backs for any sort of inevitable breakdown, and you… get to be Professor M’s potential son-in-law one day.”

“This is extremely coercive, you know,” Landon points out, but the protest is feeble at best. “And making me really uncomfortable. Nobody will buy it.”

“We’ll just have to put on a really good show,” she swears. “Say yes.”

 —

 Two things happen the next two days:

Landon attempts to say hi to Hope, who looks right through him to greet MG a good morning.

During lunch break, by some kind of miracle, he joins Hope and Lizzie for lunch just in time to hear Hope say, “You were right about the bio homework, by the way. Your ideas aren’t that bad, Saltzman.”

Lizzie cocks an eyebrow at Landon. “Welcome, Kirby.”

“Oh, hey Landon,” Hope greets warmly.

Landon takes all of thirty seconds to make up his mind.

Lizzie’s phone vibrates in her bag. When she checks it, it’s from Landon.

Just one word.

Yes.

 —

 Every Friday evening, the rag tag group of upper-secondary students meet for some dumb study group Emma had made them all participate in, in an effort to like, ‘bond’ as ‘one’ ‘community’ or something.

It’s astonishing that all of them consistently make it every single week, but no one will admit it’s because they appreciate each other’s company. They’d chalked it up to Stockholm Syndrome.

Rafael comes when he feels like it, but he’s usually stuck in detention helping Dorian jar newton eyes or something, but even he tries to be on his best behaviour so he doesn’t miss much of these.

It’s during one of these study groups that MG, having been not-so-discreetly been spying on Lizzie and Landon whilst they all parroted off chemical equations to each other, demands: “Why are you touching him?”

He’s probably been watching them really closely since the Bomb had Dropped.

Lizzie makes sure to have Josie walk into them in the courtyard one day with her hand placed very carefully on Landon’s thigh, and shocks her twin so much she goes running through the hallways until she bumps into Penelope, and blurts out the scene she just witnessed, swearing her to secrecy.

Penelope, of course, tells everyone else.

Lizzie pretends to fidget with the hem of her shirt. “Excuse you?”

MG narrows his eyes. “You just… keep putting your hand on Landon’s arm. Willingly. Why.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Penelope smirks, whilst Josie turns red and avoids Lizzie’s glare, “they’re the Salvatore School’s It Couple right now.”

“Fake news,” Jed coughs into his notes, and Kaleb guffaws.

Hope doesn’t do anything but watch the entire exchange with curious eyes.

“Look, Penelope, you don’t have to believe it,” Landon begins, but he’s making mopey eyes at Hope, so Lizzie decides to cut in.

“As devastated as I am to admit it, Frodo’s been growing on me,” Lizzie sighs, the vision of a woman distraught. “Who knew I was into nerd porn?”

MG’s ears might as well be whistling, and Jed’s cough sounds like a choke now.

“Girl, say what,” Kaleb says in one disbelieving breath. “Tell me you’re not serious. You okay? Been getting enough sleep? Is this a breakdown thing, ‘cause Emma said we have to like, show solidarity and help you visualise your inner child and shit—”

Lizzie smarts at that, just a little. Her lips part to shoot some of her automatic sass bullets, but surprisingly nothings comes out. Landon secretly puts his hand on her knee in a secret show of solidarity.

“Kaleb,” Josie says sharply. “People can change.”

Lizzie eyes Landon curiously. He shoots her a small smile, which she looks away from.

“Exactly,” Penelope nods, but she’s smirking in a way that says she doesn’t buy a single thing, and is enjoying every second of watching Landon squirm under everyone’s scrutiny. “Who’d you lose the bet to, Lizzie?”

Lizzie, despite herself, starts to feel annoyed. “I’ll have you know, Penelope, Landon isn’t the short end of an already short bunch of sticks—”

Landon tries to figure out the compliment there.

“Then – then prove it!” MG blurts out. “Kiss. If you’re really a couple, then – Kiss!”

That stops Lizzie short. “Milton. Ew.”

“Really gross, MG.” Hope shoots him a look of distaste.

“Voyeur much?” Penelope smirks.

“Nah, I’m with MG,” defends Kaleb. “This is really entertaining and all, but it’s kinda starting to weird me out. Suck his face. No way you’d do that willingly.”

“You’re all wrong,” Lizzie tells them politely. Or as politely as she can. Things are a-movin’ and she’s excited; she can already feel her legs tingling when she accidentally siphons some of Landon’s magic from his hand on her knee under the table. She swallows down the smugness in her voice, because this is exactly where she’d hoped the day would go. She turns to Landon, and wills him not to look so pale.

“Pucker up, ‘90s,” she coos.

Keeping her face as forced-smiley as possible she leans forward and gives Landon a peck on his lips. A small little one. A peck really, bird to bird.

Landon, to her discreet pleasure, kisses her back.

When they part their chaste, publicly-acceptable form of display, everyone is looking at them, shell-shocked.

Penelope steals Jed’s can of Coke just so she could do a spit-take.

 —

 “That plan worked out awesome. Score one to Saltzman,” Lizzie sighs victoriously as she plops down onto her bed. “Now on to Phase 2.”

“I really don’t want to know what Phase 2 is,” Landon mumbles. He’s got his arm slung over his eyes as he slumps three inches down into Lizzie’s plushy pink armchair.

“Phase 2 is Mom walking into us. She’s about to start baking downstairs. I know. It’s Tuesday. Ready?”

Slowly, Landon removes his arms. He stares at her. For like, a really long time. “What do you mean,” he widens his eyes, “by walking into us.”

Lizzie smiles deviously. Without warning, she lets out a very soft moan.

“Lizzie,” Landon hisses harshly.

“Yes, exactly, keep doing that,” Lizzie responds in a breathless voice, whilst she grins manically at him and flaps her hands, motioning for him to go louder.

“Lizzie,” Landon groans now, completely exasperated. “It’s barely been two days, I really doubt we’ll be having sex right now—”

“Yeah, keep talking dirty to me!” Lizzie all but bellows and jumps up on the bed, the mattress squeaking. She glares at Landon, who sighs, and very reluctantly joins her.

They jump up and down, and every so often Lizzie punches Landon in the arm so he lets out a believable grunt.

The mattress springs keep squeaking. Lizzie keeps up her panting.

After four more minutes of that, Landon’s a little out of breath, puts some spring in his jump, and lands in a pile of Lizzie’s haphazard pillows.

“Give it up, Lizzie,” he says, resuming his previous moping position of arm-over-eyes. “I think I pulled a muscle.”

“Sexy,” Lizzie says the way one might say ‘rancid foot’, but drops down next to him anyway. She stares at the ceiling, and they let out a long sigh.

After about another four minutes of moping, Lizzie turns to her side and swats Landon’s arm off his face. “Enough! Tomorrow night is another day.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” he points out, before propping himself up on one elbow to face her. “About that kiss just now—”

“They totally bought it,” Lizzie can’t resist interrupting.

“You sure you okay with this?” he mumbles in that Landon way of his. He studies her face. She notes the dark circles framing his obsidian-blues.

“Getting cold feet already, Kirby?”

“No, it’s just that—”

Her door swings open. “Elizabeth, do you remember where your mum put the…”

Lizzie and Landon whip around to see a very livid Professor M, staring at them, at the space between them, at the sweat beading on Landon’s forehead, at Lizzie’s once-sleek French braid that has now shaken loose, at the two of them again, at the space between them, and once more at Landon.

“Professor Mika-Mikaels—” Landon squawks, turning white as a sheet.

The growl that emanates from Professor M seems to make the room tremble, and Landon all but stutters to a stop. Lizzie, however, is coming up sunflowers. She practically bounces to her knees and throws her hands up, eyes crinkling warmly, exclaiming, “What did you need of me, my beloved stepfather!”

“Well, darling, I was looking for your mother’s ridiculously expensive sea salt but now I’m looking for something else entirely,” he grits out through clenched teeth, despite being slightly mollified by Lizzie’s welcome.

“And that is?” Lizzie all but croons, making a very conscious move towards Landon. “We’re kind of in the middle of studying right now.”

“Banishing objects, hm? Your books are missing.”

“Invisique,” Lizzie sings in reply. Landon just wants her to shut the fuck up, right now.

Landon’s head disappears, which is a good thing, because he looks like he’s holding in from puking his guts out, the way Klaus observes him like he’s a piece of meat.

“You’re the phoenix, yes?”

“Yes,” Landon says squeamishly.

“Alright,” Professor M seems to deliberate, before flashing over to Landon, grabbing him and throwing him out the room and right down the stairs.

“Niklaus Mikaelson!” comes her mom’s furious bellow.

“For FUCK’S SAKE, KLAUS!” She hears Dad yell. “WE JUST TALKED ABOUT THIS.”

Screams erupt, there’s a clattering of feet, and Lizzie falls out of bed in a perfect traumatised swoon, back of her hand rested delicately on her forehead. “Stepfather! Can we not with the dramatics!”

“We’re going to have a talk about this later,” he warns with a finger wagging her way, his undisguised rage making his accent thicker.

“I’ll miss you when you’re suspended again,” Lizzie pouts.

He groans, already hearing Mom’s boots stomping up the stairs. “As shall I, my sweet.”

 —

 At least Landon’s gotten used to resurrecting. Cause of death: the ire of Professor Klaus Mikaelson.

Lizzie’s waiting for him with a warm blanket when he starts to stir, her head facing the sky like she’s enjoying the sunset. Blinking groggily, he turns onto his stomach and rubs the back of his neck. He feels the weather-worn wood of the docks pressing into his face and he groans. That’s going to leave a mark.

“Welcome back,” Lizzie quips.

“Just because I can’t die doesn’t mean I wouldn’t appreciate some sympathy, Lizzie,” Landon mutters, throwing her a murderous look. “So what’s your damage.”

“Let’s see,” Lizzie says as she drapes the blanket over Landon’s crumpled heap of a body, face and all. “Two weeks of grounding. Mom suggested making it three weeks, but Dad intervened and said he’d rather us be on library duty instead for the rest of this semester.”

“Us?”

“Professor M also suggested throwing you out the window and have me try to levitate you before you hit the ground—”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“—but Mom was all Oh, maybe that’s a little too harsh,” Lizzie continues thoughtfully.

“A little?” Landon squeaks underneath the blue and white embroidered quilt. “Literally dying wasn’t enough?”

“But on the plus side, they were yelling so hard the entire school now knows we were caught post-doing the dirty.” Lizzie shoots him a grin. “On to Phase 3!”

“No!” Landon yells and clambers to his feet. “Lizzie, so far all your plans have kind of sucked for me, you know? How the hell is Hope supposed to like me now that she thinks I’ve slept with you!”

“Easy, lover boy,” Lizzie says, frowning. “This is the 21st century, she’s not a prude.”

“You don’t — you don’t know her like I do,” Landon says, burying his face in his hands and turning towards the water. “She’s not like y…”

He whirls around, hands already halfway lifting up like a gesture of apology but Lizzie’s already standing up, facing him squarely. Her eyes are narrowed as she takes him in coolly. “Not like?”

“Nevermind,” Landon says quickly. “Let’s grab some dinner, I’m starv—”

“Finish your fucking sentence, Frodo,” Lizzie says in a voice that is low and dangerous. Is it weird that he’s seeing some Klaus in the shadows of her face right now?

“Lizzie… let’s drop it.”

“No. Let’s hear you say it. Not like what? You were saying she’s not like me,” she hisses. Her fists are bunched into tight fists and he’s so glad she doesn’t have anything to syphon right now. He really hasn’t tried dying twice in the span of 12 hours.

“Look, I’m sorr—”

“Invisique,” she whispers.

“Lizzie!”

He hears the wooden boards squeak as she runs away, and when her feet hit grass there’s no telling where she might be.

“Fuck you, Landon!” he yells and heaves a rock into the water with a loud splash.

 —

tbc

[okimargarvez]

FEW HOURS IN LUKE ALVEZ’S MIND -3

Original title: Few hours in Luke Alvez’s mind.

Prompt: Luke’ POV, memory of war.

Warning: quote of 12x1.

Genre: comedy, family, angst, friendship.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, BAU team.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot.

Legend: 🔦🐶.

Song mentioned: none.

Few hours in Luke Alvez’s mind- Masterlist

GARVEZ STORIES

This part is dedicated to  inlovewithgarvaz.

Part 3-

The chief, Hotchner, who everyone calls Hotch, has a private office. In the grip of a moment of discouragement, I decide to try to express my doubts directly with him. I knock the door.

-Yeah?- it comes a voice from inside. I open the door.

-You got a second?- I ask, standing in the doorway. He nods. He is sitting at the desk. The room is small, but well furnished.

-Yeah, sure.- I hesitate again.

-May I?- he is stronger than me. It puts awe. I seem to be in front of a professor before the exam begins. Or when I was going to ask for information on how to proceed with the thesis.

-Yeah, have a seat.- he must guess my embarrassment. It's too obvious. I execute the order. And I take courage.

-So I'm up to speed on all the fugitives this team is hunting, which means I read up on all of Peter Lewis' victims. And, uh, I saw that…- he interrupts me before I can finish the sentence.

-You saw that I was one of them.- he admits simply, without any effort. Yet in those pages I have read terrible things. Not only has he been among those whom Lewis has subjugated (and believe him, even just knowing him, it is difficult), but he has also been targeted by another "unknown subject", if possible even worse... George Foyet, the Reaper, killed his wife. I can’t even imagine the pain he felt. But I also know that the latter doesn’t run the risk of being released. He killed him, even though in the final report it is written in self-defense, I can’t believe he would have done so even if it hadn’t been a danger at that time.

-Yeah...- I admit- I don't want to know what happened. I just want to know… Don't you want to kill him?- the question is legitimate. He looks at me for a moment, before replying.

-Do you want to kill Daniel Cullen?- he answers me with another question.

-I took an oath to uphold the laws of this country. So… Yeah. Yeah, I want to kill him.- and I need it, to rediscover the serenity. To stop seeing those horrible images every time I close my eyes. To begin to believe the words of Phil. It wasn’t your fault. But yes, because I should have been there, in his place, under-coverage. I was older than him, more experienced, theoretically. I didn’t have a wife, not even a girlfriend, waiting for me at home. The rest of my family has always known that something could happen to me, given the choices I made in my life. I am convinced that I would be less hurt, if I were now the one who has to recover from the attempt to open the stomach. I would feel less... helpless.

-Why?- Hotch's voice penetrates through my thoughts.

-You read my personnel file.- I try to avoid having to say it clearly.

-I want t hear your version.- is not a suggestion, but an order.

I sigh -Ok. All right.- I take a breath, before doing the big confession. -Anyone that asks, I tell them that we caught him in the act.- I lower my eyes, I report it on the man in front of me. -Which is the truth. What I don't tell them is that the act that I caught him in was him cutting open my partner, who he somehow figured out was FBI.- I am catapulted back in time, I still feel to hear again those words. -"Try not to finch!"- I repeat. -Phil told me later that’s what he said.- I conclude.

-I strongly believe that men like Daniel Cullen and Peter Lewis belong in 5-foot by 8-foot cells where they can live out their lives as failures, instead of dying thinking that they accomplished something.- he says without anger. It would be nice to think of it in the same way.

-I'm not there yet.- the view gets blurred. I'm not going to cry. But being indifferent to certain things is not possible. And I'm not even that good at hiding what I feel.

Hotch understands it perfectly. -Let's talk about right now. I wanted you on this case because I know that you're driven to find Cullen. I know that you're a good tracker. If there's something in this profile that you're not agreeing with, I'd like to know what it is.- well, the moment of truth has arrived.

-You’re not gonna like it.- he nods, as if he had already imagined it.

-Then everybody should hear it.- he stands up. We move to the meeting room, where there are all the others. It's the first time that I’m going to expose me like that. My opinions of non-profiler, before experts in this field, what value will they have?

-You can't analyze a fugitive's actions on the outside without taking into account what he did on the inside. So what did Peter Lewis do on the inside?- it might seem like a rhetorical question.

-Nothing, he was a model prisoner.- Spencer answers. I don’t want to contradict him.

-No, it goes further than that. He had no contact with other convicts. He didn't join or get pressured into a gang. When he gets out, he picks up as if no time had passed.- the implications in my sentence are obvious.

-So he had the resources in place before we arrested him.- the first that understands it is JJ.

-A safe house to stay in, backup supplies of his drugs.- Rossi continues.

I nod. -He could have gone anywhere in the country. I mean, anywhere in the world, probably. Then he came here. To Tempe, Arizona?- I try to use a tone that makes clear what I think. It is not really one of the most famous countries in America.

-He had the highest concentration of targets with D.I.D. here.- the doctor insists.

I turn to him, looking at him directly. -You said he wouldn't reveal himself until his plan was foolproof. Right? This isn't foolproof. Brian and Chelsea have been failures. But what part of his plan has worked?- I don’t give anyone time to answer. -Us. You see where I'm going with this? Most fugitives, they do everything they can to stay on the D.L. He's courted our attention from the beginning. Where I keep hitting a wall is why.- my contribution practically ends here.

-Especially if he already has a list of all the kids that went to that camp.- Tara continues to reflect, taking the floor for the first time since we started discussing.

-Maybe we need to re-evaluate our presumptions. When Peter Lewis needed information before, he hacked Quantico.- Hotch exchanges a glance with everyone else, except the brunette woman who carries the same surname as the unsub we are chasing.

-Well, he can’t do that again.- says the blonde.

-So, maybe he’s going to get his information from us.- the leader concludes.

-And we're compiling the very list he would want.- Dave punches his desk.

-We know all his tricks. We're not gonna give him the list.- JJ can’t understand. -The police aren’t. How is he gonna get it?- the answer comes from the other woman present.

-Brian.- Tara exclaims, while a shadow seems to pass in front of her eyes. -I asked officer Duke to go over the list with him once Garcia had somenthing.- she turns to the chief. -Oh, god, Hotch. I'm so sorry.- the man doesn’t reply anything, but starts a call.

Without being named, the shapely blonde on the other side answers. -Yes, sir.- I can even imagine her in this office. With too much ease. Everyone exchanges worried looks. Only Tara keeps her eyes on the floor, obviously feeling guilty. I know what she feels. For four years I have never stopped feeling guilty.

-Garcia, don’t distribute the list!- it is not a video call, yet that moment of hesitation is clear even only vocally.

-But...- crisis. What she has to hear right now, is that she made a mistake. -It...- she doesn’t know what to say. Yet she didn’t seem to me a person who has problems in finding topics of conversation. -I just hit sent.- Hotch doesn’t add anything else, but ends the call abruptly. JJ stares at him. The two blondes are probably very friendly. And although I do nothing but proceed by hypothesis, I think it is very evident that she feels obliged to protect her.

-Why do you have to treat her like that?- I hear that she whispers in a low voice to the chief, without an ounce of fear. Man merely observes her. The other surrenders.

-Well, now we know who the copycat is.- Rossi tries to find a positive side in the current situation.

-What's scientifically revolutionary is that Peter Lewis isn't just inducing an already existing alternate, he's actually creating one. Brian thinks he is the Crimson King. That's undocumented in D.I.D. literature.- not just the amazement, but declared admiration is highlighted in Spencer's tone. I haven’t yet fully framed him, but I understood that his fame was not very far from reality.

-It's possible, with the right balance of drugs and torture.- adds Tara.

-Peter Lewis never tortured before.- JJ shows horrified.

-He does mentally, by hypnotizing his victims into self-harm. It explains Brian's shallow wounds.- and the words of Hotch have a different weight, from the speculations of his colleagues. Because they are those of those who have passed it. They are a direct testimony.

-Tara, you mean he cut himself?- I ask.

-It was all there in the story that he told me. I just didn't see it.- the criminal psychologist continues to blame herself. Before leaving on this mission, after having known all of them, I asked a few questions around, to inform me about the people with whom I should have

collaborate.

-D.I.D. is usually the result of trauma. If Peter Lewis could build an alternate like this through hypnotic suggestion, it means that Brian has some propensity for psychopathy in his past.- Reid looks out of the corner of his eye towards Tara.

-Lewis, did you locate the parents?- Hotch asks.

-Yeah.- says the woman.

- All right. See what kind of history you can get from them. The rest of us need to look at every clue again through the prism of Brian as Trojan horse.- saying this the meeting melts. There are just me and Rossi.

-Where is the evidence room?- I ask the latter. He makes the way.

 I extract that kind of bar covered with holes for the arms and the head.

-So, this. Why would Peter Lewis make Brian wear it?- I ask.

-So we wouldn’t question that he was a victim.- says the eldest of us. I nod, but that's not all.

-It worked, huh? Cullen hand-made his.- and I am expert, in spite of myself, of this subject. I can think of many evenings spent in the office settling all that crap of material but knowing that the bastard was in prison. -Peter Lewis knew that. Knew enough to copy the lock bolt mechanism. Not enough to sew it himself. A machine-stitched this.- and now I smile, perhaps for the first time since we're in Temple.

-So he had to order it.- I raise my eyes in an emblematic way. He extracts the phone and starts a call. He puts the speakerphone.

-Ready and waiting.- answers the blonde's voice on the other side. And once again it is far too easy to materialize her and move on with fantasy towards dark shores. What's happening to me? Why suddenly this kind of thoughts cross my mind? Fortunately, I'm the only one to have access to it.

-Garcia, we need leather experts in the Phoenix and Temple areas.- explains Rossi.

But I decide to express my opinion. -Yeah, I think the leather experts might have asked too many questions.- then, I turning to the phone, then to her. -Uh, and Garcia, if you don’t mind, checking sex shops and BDSM specialists. The more extreme, the better.- I am making a strange effect to make such a request, but I really believe that Lewis was forced to turn to someone who wouldn’t have made too many problems, wondering what such a deal could have served. Silence. No answer comes from the other end of the line. Yet rumors told me that she and what was there before, Agent Morgan, were very famous for their... hot conversation, so much to have forced the entire department to carry out a series of cycles on how you behave with colleagues and how to avoid mobbing.

-Garcia?- Rossi finally calls her.

There's a kind of sigh of suffering. -I'll send Agent Alvez that list now. Good bye.- and she vanishes, abruptly interrupting the call, as before Hotch had done with her. I look at my phone. I register the new sender under the name Garcia BAU , but not entirely convinced that it will remain so informal.

 After having tell to the others about the news, Hotch orders Spencer and me to go around all the shops in the area that may have treated that article. I'm happy to go with him, because with his attitude I will feel less embarrassed, like it was with JJ or Tara. Or worse, Hotch. Even with Rossi I would have felt at ease. And with Garcia... forget it.

We enter the third store today - This guy ordered this arm spreader. Um, two of them, actually.- the girl on the other side of the bar will have at most twenty years. Blonde, very short hair, nose piercing. In short, the stereotype of the clerk for a place like that.

-Two of them? So where is the other one?- I turn to my colleague.

-Um, could I see your badge again?- she asks Spencer instead.

-Is there a problem?- he frowns.

-Uhm... yeah, ok, the guy who ordered them, the name he left on the invoice was Dr. Spencer Reid.- now she looks at both.

-Did he pay with my credit card also?- he presses her.

The young girl shakes her head -Cash.- then she throws a smart look. -I knew he was sketchy. Guys like him give S&M a bad rap. Which is why I did ask for a copy of Dr. Reid's driver's license, which he gave me happily.- she shrugs.

-We’ll need to see that right now.- I intervene.

-Oh, uh.- she goes down to take it.

 As soon as we get in the car Spencer starts a call to "our" computer technician. -He was all up in your business, boy wonder.- for the first time, she seems to be indifferent to the fact that I'm listening too. -He used your social security number to do a change of address and everything, but... speaking of addresses, we have a local one for him.- from the corner of my eye I see Reid unconsciously nod.

-Good. Get that information to the rest of the team and the police, please. We need to assume he has the same level of personal information for the entire BAU.- his manner of speaking is so different from that of anyone else. He seems more like a... a university professor, than an FBI agent.

-And Daniel Cullen.- I add.

-But we ruled out his involvement.- we seem about to discuss. But no one has closed the call, so Penelope is theoretically still listening.

-Now I'm not sure. Peter Lewis copied a specific detail of the Cullen’s arm spreader, one that wasn’t in a public record. The only way he could have gotten it is if the real Crimson King has been a part of this all along.- the other man is able to pretend to agree with me.

-I send everything to the others.- the sweet and strangely fragile voice of the blonde intrudes. I thank her mentally. Although she doesn’t seem to be very nice with me, at least she took my idea into consideration. Then we hear a beep at the end of the conversation. And a moment later the young doctor's phone lights up again.

-Reid, Luke, the police are 10 minutes out.- Rossi warns us.

-That could be a problem. If the police try to convince Brian he is not the Crimson King, he could get unstable.- I think it is the first time that a sentence uttered by him doesn’t seem perfectly good.

-Guys we might have a solution. Try to keep Brian calm. We're on our way.- Tara seems to have found confidence in herself again. A few minutes later we reach our destination. Parking, we go down. As if we had already done it before, or if we had agreed, I open the door wide and Spencer come in, shouting.

-FBI! Drop the weapon!- his gun is aimed at the boy. His gaze is crazy. Much more than Cullen's when I caught him dealing with parts of Phil's body.

-No! Try not to finch!- that sentence is more than I can bear. Then I realize that the man to whom he is aiming at the throat with a knife is really my personal monster. Daniel Cullen. And if Brian's might sound scary, the Crimson King's is terrified. He rolls his eyes everywhere, shining with terror. I should feel happy to see him suffer. Why it’s not so?

-Help me...-he whispers, while the blade presses lightly on his skin.

-The Crimson King doesn’t kill. He doesn’t have to. Remember?- he tries to bring the boy back to reason, but I don’t think it's possible. Despite myself, I am forced to help him. Hotch is right, a prison is better than a painful death for less than a second. It would be much better for him to have all the time to think about what he did.

-That’s right. You kill, and it's over. But if you let him go, he has to live the rest of his life as a failure, is not that what you really want?- yet I'm not asking the question to Brian, but to myself.

-No! That’s not enough.- and it's not even for me. I hear footsteps behind us. Tara and JJ also appear.

-No one is going to hurt you like that ever again. Nobody. Never again.- it is understood that the brunette is a psychologist. Her tone is sweet and understanding. What he really needs. He trembles but doesn’t give up.

-Back off! I mean it!- yet it sounds like a plea.

-We can’t do that. Ok? Someone told you to do this. But this is not who you are, is it? We know that.- do we really know? This boy suffered one of the most horrible things in the world: he was the victim of those who were supposed to protect him. Those who should have taken care of him. Too many conditions in a few lines. But the most tragic thing is that it forces me to think that if Brian became so because he was fragile... what was the reason Cullen became the Crimson King? Does pure evil exist, absolute black or do we have to deal with many more shades of gray?

-No one is gonna hurt you like that ever again.- reiterates the same sentence JJ.

-Nobody hurt me, I hurt them.- it is an attempt not to feel in complete mercy of others. To affirm that he still has control of himself and his actions. But, partly for his fortune, it is not like that.

-Yes, they did hurt you. They cut you when you were little. And then right here on this very table, you saw your own blood and you didn't know what to do, so you became the Crimson King to protect yourself. No one is gonna hurt you like that ever again.-will I ever be so tolerant, so understanding, so human? I fear that the man in front of me has eliminated this possibility from my soul four years ago.

-No one is gonna hurt you like that ever again.- the blonde repeats again. It almost seems like a sing-song, a nursery rhyme for children. Of those that, if deliberately slowed down, become perfect soundtrack for a horror film.

-Do you remember Eliza? Angelica? What they used to say to you at the foster home to calm you down? No one is going to hurt you like that ever again.- his eyes wander over the woman. Then he abandons the knife. A part of me is not happy. If I were a believer, I should go to confession.

-Do you promise?- a child wouldn’t seem less innocent than him.

-Yeah, I promise.- handcuffs are put on him. The boy looks at her scared. -Brian, this is for your own protection, ok? We’re taking you into custody, for your safety.- he nods. He desperately needs to trust her.

-Tara?- he calls her once again.

-Yes?- she stays close to him.

-Oh, my God, what did I do?- and here the Crimson King no longer exists.

-I’m going to be with you every step of the way. All right? I’m not leaving your side.- a promise that weighs heavily. But now my attention completely falls on the other man, left in the room. Extracting the handcuffs, I put them on him. The latter seems even more stunned than Brian.

-Thank you. Both of you.- I clench my fist to keep myself from pulling it in his face and smashing his jaw, that so easily chuckled with satisfaction while my partner lay in a state of semi-consciousness, but was perfectly able to feel the pain and whatever he did to him.

-No, don’t thank us! You’re under arrest.- I try to carry on the pantomime, but it is clear that the time has not come when I will have my revenge.

-Ok... for what? What... what did I do?- he can’t really forget it.

-Must have dosed him to make him lose his memory so we couldn't get any answers out of him.- Spencer tries to calm down me, with his usual pedantic tone even if he doesn’t want to be, too smart and rational to be able to tolerate it. In order not to vent myself with him, I concentrate all my energy on the monster.

-Now, we’ve met. Three years ago. Hmm? What's my name? What was my partner's name?- I shout until I almost lose my voice.

-I don’t know!- is the truth, but I can’t accept it.

-You’re faking it!- I shout even louder.

-Luke...- I completely ignore Reid's voice trying to intrude.

-You’re faking it.- I repeat with a lower tone, now defeated.

-Luke...- he repeats. I have tears in my eyes. More than anger or pain?

-You’re faking it. What's your name? What's your name? Say it! - but I don’t get any answers. Because maybe it's not there. There really never was.

-I don’t know. Tell me. Please.- and I wish I could do it. Have time to tell him what kind of man he was, if he really doesn’t remember him anymore. Let him know how rotten it was. Scream in his face that has ruined Phil's life and mine too. Which is his fault if I can’t sleep anymore and the only living thing I can stay with, without having to hide what I've become and what I feel, is Roxy.

But Spencer takes him by the shoulders and takes him away, taking away from me even this last satisfaction.

TAGS:  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @garvezz  @shyladystudentfan @cosmicmelaninflower @kiki-krakatoa  @pegasus-scifichick  @ leftlamphumanfestival @inlovewithgarvaz @thatnerdygirljudy

[everythingelseisspokenfor]

imagine simon and baz adopting a little girl g o o d b y e I am deceased -🎹 (piano anon)

Oh my god! I literally abandoned all else to write this fic! I wanted it to be cute but turned out a little heavier than I hoped it to be. But I love it, so here it is. I’m posting it on ao3 as well, but thanks for the prompt piano anon!!

Simon

I can’t believe that people would still be this thick in 2017. I mean for god’s sake is being a little more open-minded that hard? The fact that we have to deal with homophobes even now. It’s not like it has anything with their lives, or that I have anything to do with their lives. And somehow, they still think they have the right to force their damned close-minded, narrow sighted opinions onto the world.

“Why would someone say that? Those bloody imbeciles! Why do they think they can?” I complain to Baz as we walk up to our apartment. It’s different living together now that we don’t hate each other anymore. But Baz claims he never hated me. And I don’t think I ever did either.

“Seriously Snow, chill out will you. It’s not like they can change you or me,” he says digging his pocket for the keys. “And there is nothing we can do to change them apparently.” He grabs the grocery bags from my hand and I walk in sideways through the door. The glamour keeps my red wings and devil’s tail out of the eyes of the normal but is still a huge pain in the ass. I’ve gotten more used to it though. I think one is bound to after nearly a decade with it. I can’t believe it’s been 10 years since Watford.

“But it’s just so frustrating!” I groan, “Couldn’t you have used your magic to smite them or something?”

“I can’t use magic outside just like that.” He shrugs like he just stated the most obvious thing in the world. Well, he kinda did. I mean yes, we aren’t just allowed to let people know about the existence of the World of Mages. Unfortunately. I mean how cool would it be if people knew dragons existed! Those poor souls obsessing over fantasy when we deal with it on a daily basis. Well, not anymore. Thankfully. “Besides, I didn’t carry my wand.”

“Liar. You always carry your wand with you.” I counter. He shrugs again. I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I just hate that we live in such a world.”

“I know Simon. Me too.”

Baz

Simon leaves me to do all the preparation for dinner. Just like him. Too lazy to ever do anything. His go-to excuse is always My wings will just make a mess even if I don’t want to. Come on Baz! I can’t believe that I let it work every single time. What can I say? I’m weak, and head over heel for this git. I don’t even know why. I just pick out the onions from the bag when my phone rings. I jump at the sudden loud noise. I take second to check the caller ID before answering.

“Hello, Bunce.”

“Hey, Baz. I need a favour. Simon isn’t picking up.”

“Yeah, he’s in the shower. What’s it?”

“Yeah. I need you to go to Abbey Wood. There is some sort of incident there. I think it’s something Magical, and I’m in America. So, could you deal with that for me?” Penelope was the external coordinator for Watford now, which meant she dealt with all the magic-related things that took place outside the control of the world of mages. Simon and I help her out time and again.

“How urgent is it?” I ask.

“I’m not really sure. But it seems like things are going to blow up pretty soon. Some people are already there but they are barely holding it together. I need you to go now!”

“Okay. But you owe me one Bunce.”

“Thank you so much! I’ll text you the address.”

I drop the onions on the counter as Simon walks out dressed in his PJs. Head dripping wet. I grab the car keys as Simon gives me a questioning look.

“Somethings going on in Abbey Wood that they need my help with. Want to have dinner outside?”

“I don’t want to change!” He whines. I laugh and mutter a quick spell and change his current attire to a grey shirt and jeans. “So much for I can’t just use magic like that.” I give him a cocky grin and he walks in to give me a quick peck on my lips. And we walk out together.

There are more such incidents than you’d think there’d be in a busy city like London. So, the urgency of the situation doesn’t hit me till we reach Abbey wood and see the massive fire engulfing the church. I hit the brakes more suddenly than I intended to, Snow and I fall forward, and I rush to clutch out the seat belt and run outside.

“What the hell is happening here?” I pant out to one of the boys standing there.

“I’m not sure. There were a group of vampires that attacked the church I think. There were a few people here, but I don’t know where they are.”

I’m not listening to him anymore. I quickly reach my jeans pocket to grab my wand and shout, “Make a wish.” The fire only barely dies down. “Make a wish!” I shout again forcing more magic into the words, Simon quickly takes my side enquiring the boy. I try one more time. “Make a wish.” And the fire puffs out. Black smoke covers the entire building and I sprint inside without any warning. The smoke enters my lung and I start coughing. I can barely see anything, but I find myself walking anyway. “Anybody there?” I ask walking over a few people. I scoot down to check their pulse. Nothing. I take a deep breath which only causes me to cough more.

“Baz?”

“I’m here,” I reply, forcing my face to remain neutral. This is not something I was expecting to handle today. Simon scoots down next to me and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. I just nod and get up. “Anybody there?” I try again.

Simon

I hear a low whimper around the corner. I tap Baz’s shoulder and start walking towards the sound. I walk into the confession room in the corner. The smoke has died down considerably, so it’s easier to see. I open the door and find a little girl, probably six or seven, sat in one corner head against her knees, rocking back and forth.

“Hey,” I say mustering the most soothing voice I could put up. She jumps at the sound of my voice and coils further into herself. I take another careful step forward. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “We’re here to help. It’s all over now.” She is crying. Her eyes are puffy and red, and I can’t do anything to help. But I desperately want to. I kneel next to her. “What’s your name sweetie?” I notice Baz behind me.

“Lu –” She sobs. “Lucy” I flinch but recover quickly.

“Okay,” I attempt placing a hand on her little shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here? Okay? Can we do that?” She nods slowly grabbing her little seal toy.

“Mom?” She mutters slowly as she gets up.

“Your mom was here?” Baz asks, his voice deep and sorrowful.

“She –” Lucy sobs again, “She asked me to stay here then left.” I turn to look at Baz whose eyes widen, and I follow his gaze and realise why. There are 2 puncture wounds on her neck. She was bitten. Oh my god. Baz. I turn to face him again and notice him beginning to fall apart. Lucy walks out before I can stop her and walk over to one of the limp bodies scattered around.

“Mommy?” she scoots down shaking the woman’s shoulder. My heart breaks. “Mommy. The bad guys aren’t here anymore. Mommy?” She shakes her harder, one hand still clutching her soft toy. Baz becomes stiff. He doesn’t move. He just stares at the little girl and I notice his eyes filled to the rim glistening with tears. He doesn’t make an effort to wipe away the tear as it falls, and I don’t know if I should stay and comfort him or go to Lucy. I look back to her still trying to wake her mother up, and I instinctively walk there.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” She looks up at me and probes weakly. I look down at her little hand trying settled on her mothers and grab it slowly.

“Let’s get you out of here. Okay?” I try.

“NO!” She pulls her hands away! “NO! I don’t want to go without mommy. No!” I don’t know what to do. My face strains figuring out a way to break it to her that her mom can’t come. So I do the next best thing my good for nothing brain could think of. I pull her into a hug. She fights me for seconds before collapsing into me in tears. I move a hand to her hair placing a soft kiss on her head.

“It’s going to be alright.” I murmur. “It’s going to be alright.”

Baz

I couldn’t take it. It was too much. It brought back memories I wasn’t even sure I remembered. I froze. I was supposed to help, and I froze. I f***ing froze. Simon seemed to have a handle on the situation though. Thankfully. I watched as he carried the kid and walked over to me. He took my hand and squeezed it once before guiding me out as well. Coming to my senses I quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen. As we walk out we notice a few more people standing there with the boy we saw earlier. He leans forward and hands Lucy over to me. It takes me a while to understand, but I put my hand forward and carry her.

“Aleister Crowley, where the hell were you all?”

“We. Uh. We went to follow the vampires who had escaped.” One of them. A girl with blonde hair replied hesitantly.

“And none of you bothered to check for anyone else inside? What is wrong with you.” Their heads all ducked down in shame.

“We just… we didn’t think there was anyone in there!”

“Well. Think again,” He screams.

“Simon,” I warn. I didn’t realise I was rocking her till I heard a soft snore. He takes a deep breath composing himself.

“Fix up this mess and then go home.” He instructs and walks to me. “Are you okay?” He utters, and I nod.

“Can you drive? I don’t want to disturb her. And she probably needs some quiet.” He holds his hand out. “I don’t think I removed the keys from the car.” He nods and opens the door for me. I get in, trying my best not to wake the sleeping child in my arms. He closes the door walking to the driver side. We are both silent the entire drive.

Simon

When we reach home, Baz walked directly into the room and delicately placed Lucy on our bed and tucked her in. I stood by the door frame watching her cuddle into the blanket. Baz turned around, a weird sort of tiredness fixed in his eyes. I walked over to him and embraced him. I didn’t know how else to help him, and words have always failed me, so I wasn’t going to rely on them now. He buried his head in my chest and I could feel the wetness of his silent tears.

“Is she –” I ask pulling back a little, but I can’t complete the question. He nods then collapses over me again. Neither of us had our appetites anymore. But we found a comfortable position on the couch as I handed Baz a glass of water.

“What are we going to do with her? She just lost everything. And she doesn’t even know it yet,” Baz points out. He looks disoriented. Not something I see very often. I scoot in closer to him.

“I know,” I mumble. “We can’t just drop her off at an orphanage because she is… you know.”

“You can say it, Simon,” Baz huffs a laugh, “It’s not something offensive.”

“I know,” Is all I can say.

“What are we going to do?” He repeats and puts his head on his palms.

“Baz…” I start, “Do you want to, um… maybe we should… why don’t we… adopt her?” Baz’s head turns towards me in one sharp motion.

“This is not a joke Snow!”

“I know. I’m serious. Why not? She needs a home. And we have one.” He sits up straighter.

“That’s not all it takes, Simon. If it was just about providing a home, things would be much less complicated. Do you think either of us is ready to be a parent? You barely remember to put on your pants before you leave home.” I laugh slowly.

“I don’t think anyone is ever ready to be a parent. But I think we can make good ones if we try. She needs someone to help her Baz. And I really want to. It’s like you said. Her entire life collapsed in front of her. She needs someone to lean back on. And there is no one else right now who can understand what she is going through better than you. And I can try to not ruin everything.”

“Are you sure about this?” I nod. “Then I hope to god you’re right. Coz if Lucy becomes a rebellious annoying teenager, you’re going to have to deal with her.” I grin.

“Are you serious!”

“Weren’t you just advocating for us to adopt her? If you’ve changed your mind, I’m sorry. I’ll adopt her anyway.” He smiles one of his rare genuinely happy smiles. I grin wider and move in to kiss him.

“We’re going to be dads!” I squeal with my forehead against his.

“I guess we are.”