#and i’ve only seen a few clips of the later seasons i stopped watching the show around season 3??

[alteadelight]

tell me why jasper and henry had more chemistry in that one scene in “i know your secret” then henry had with any of his girlfriends

[wordsbyrian]

Polyglot - USWNT x Reader

Summary: After one odd interview, Kelley, Sonny, and some others stop at nothing to figure out what Y/N has been (not) hiding.

A/N: I’ve been lurking for a while and finally decided to post something. Hope you enjoy it.

It's not unusual for you to find yourself in situations where the team has just found out something about you and then they proceed to act like you had been hiding it from them.

In fact, that is the exact situation you find yourself in right now, the whole team staring at you as walk into the locker room after you finish a post-game interview with a Spanish-speaking outlet.

"Why didn't you tell us that you could speak Spanish," Kelley asks the moment the locker room door closes behind you.

"You didn't ask. Besides, it's not like it's a secret, Ashley and Sophia have known for a while now."

Kelley's head immediately turns to stare at the two women across the locker room, who are just trying to mind their own business.

"You guys knew and didn't say anything," she whines, beginning to stomp her way across the space.

Before she can reach them though, Alex calmly blocks her path and leads Kelley to her own locker, whispering in hushed tones, presumably something about leaving you guys alone so everyone can get back to the hotel.

You think it works because she doesn't bring it up again until dinner later that night.

"So are you going to tell me why none of you ever mentioned that the baby can speak Spanish," she asks, plopping into a seat directly in front of the three of you, Sonnett taking the seat immediately to her left.

At the same time that you mumble about not being a baby, Ashley answers her.

"Once again, no one was hiding it. In fact, we thought that you all knew already, she's been on the team for like two years."

"Of course we didn't know," Sonnett says, "The only times we've ever seen her sit still for more than five minutes, she was asleep!"

"You're one to talk," you say, "The first time I met you, you were wrestling Kelley and Rose in the hotel lobby."

"Whatever, that doesn't explain how you know Spanish," she snarks.

"If you must know, my childhood babysitter didn't speak much English and I spent six days a week with her from the ages of one to 12. Also, I'm not sure if you remember this but I've been living in Barcelona for almost four years."

"Wait, so when did you learn English?"

Kelley mirrors the confused look on Sonnett's face and much to your surprise a few others sat close enough to hear the conversation.

"At the same time," you say, finally looking at them. "It's called simultaneous bilingualism and it's actually really prevalent. It's estimated that half of the world is functionally bilingual and that a majority of that number consider themselves to be native speakers of two languages."

"Sonny, I think the baby just called us stupid," Kelley says, shellshocked.

"She did," Ashley and Sophia speak at the same time and you watch as both Kelley and Sonnett deflate at the plain way they say it.

You thought that was the end of the entire situation until during the next camp a video surfaced online of you speaking French with the media after Barcelona's loss to Lyon in the Champions League final last season.

You had been tagged in the clip what felt like a million times, so it's not surprising that Kelley and Sonentt managed to get their hands on it.

This is how you found yourself hiding in Alex and Kelley's hotel room playing with Charlie, it was the last place the Frat Daddies would think to check. Hopefully, they wouldn't think of it until it's time to leave for the weightlifting session.

"Do you really think that you can avoid them forever," Alex asks, watching as you catch Charlie when she flings her little body off the bed at you.

"No, but I only need to avoid them until we get on the bus because then they'll have to deal with Christen and Sanchez when they try to mess with me."

"If you say so."

"I do."

You're right for the most part, the only time it falters is when Kelley comes back to grab her things before training. That results in the team being treated to the sight of her chasing you down the hallway with Charlie thrown over your shoulder and Alex yelling behind you about making sure not to drop her child.

Outside of that though, it goes off without a hitch with both your best friend and your team mom taking turns glaring at Kelley and Sonnett when they attempt to bother you.

That might be why it's so surprising when Lindsey is the one who brings it up during movie night as you wait for Sam and Kristie to finish arguing about what movie to watch.

"Y/N, truth or dare?"

"Uh, truth," you answer, not bothering to lift your head from its place smushed into a pillow. You’re comfortably lying between Christen and Tobin, with Mal sprawled over the three of you and moving would definitely ruin that.

"How many languages are you fluent in," she asks.

"Fluency is an arbitrary scale that varies from person to person," is the answer you give, even though you know it won't be enough for them to leave you alone.

“For the love of god, would you please just answer the question so they stop bothering both you and me,” Sanchez groans from her place on the other bed.

“Fine. I speak and read English, Spanish and French. I can read German,” you say, struggling to sit up from under Mal’s body weight. “I can only flirt in Dutch but I’m working on learning to read it. Also, Rolfö is teaching me Swedish.”

The line about flirting earns you multiple pinches from the women in the bed with you, but for the most part, everyone is stunned into silence.

The first person to make any sound is Sophia laughing so hard that she can barely get out her words, “Of course, Y/N/N is learning Dutch to talk to girls, it’s like U17s and U20s all over again.”

While you roll your eyes and wish that the conversation would end there, it doesn’t because Kristie says what everyone is thinking.

“So you, the person who dropped out of high school to play in Spain, speak three languages and are actively learning three more?”

“Yes, but can we stop telling people I dropped out of high school because I didn’t.”

“You being a genius really explains why your people skills are so severely lacking with anyone who doesn’t play soccer,” Lindsey says, ignoring you.

“All in favor of changing the baby’s nickname from ‘the baby’ to ‘baby genius’ raise your hands.” Kelley laughs when she sees you're the only one to keep your hand down. “ Motion passes, Y/N shall henceforth be known as 'Baby Genius'.”

“Don’t call me that, please,” you beg.

“Sorry Baby Genius, I’ve already changed your name in the group chat.” Her statement is backed up by the synchronized vibrating of everyone’s phones.

All you can do is let out another groan and sink back into the bed while everyone laughs.

But the night goes on and the subject ends up being dropped permanently. At least that’s what you think until somehow you find yourself, alongside Mal, being called over to do a post-game interview with ESPN at the end of the game later that week.

Most of the questions are directed at her, unsurprisingly, but eventually, the reporter turns her attention to you.

“Y/N, you guys had your hands full defensively tonight and there was even a moment where you had to track back and clear a ball off the goal line after a mishandling by Naeher. What was going through your mind at that moment?”

“Uhm, mostly a lot of inappropriate language but also the fact that I kinda caused Lys to mishandle the ball and it’d really suck if it went in because of my mistake, so I had to make sure that didn’t happen,” you say, wiping some of your sweat away.

“One more question, Y/N,” she says. “Recently, a ton of videos of you speaking both French and Spanish have surfaced online, is this a new development or have you been hiding this talent?”

“I’ve not been hiding it, most of my interviews since going to Barcelona have been in Spanish but no one in America really asks about it. I’ve been speaking both Spanish and French for a long time now, it’s not that impressive,” you say, unsure if the heat in your cheeks is leftover from the game or because of the spotlight you find yourself forced into.

It only gets worse because Mal takes it upon herself to brag on your behalf.

“She’s just being humble, Y/N spends all of her free time studying languages and is working on three others right now.”

The reporter looks shocked, “Is that true?”

“Yeah.”

“A skilled soccer player and a natural born polyglot, you can really do it all. Y/N, Mal thank you for your time.” She turns back to the camera before sending the broadcast back to whoever happens to be in the studio.

As you walk away, Ashley walks over to you, slinging her arm over your shoulder.

“Don’t look so grumpy. We won and now the world knows you’re a genius,” she says.

“She called me a polyglot,” you grumble.

“Ok?”

“I’m not, I only speak three languages.”

Sanchez just sighs and shakes her head, continuing to lead you toward the sidelines where fans are waiting for photos and autographs.

“Don’t worry Baby Genius, we’ll work on your people skills.”

[whatisthismandoinghere]

So I’ve watched a good chunk of seasons 3 and 4 of Laramie as well as a few from season 1 and I am now gonna make it all yall’s problem and bless you with my commentary and clips from each episode, enjoy I guess 😂

Without further ado, S1.EP1 Stage Stop

Not the outlaw being upset they spelled his name wrong in the newspaper 😂

Jess’s introduction to Laramie was absolutely terrible, poor guy just got shot at. Absolutely love how he just ignored the lawman when he was told to stop though, a very Jess thing to do 🤣

Jess and Slim’s first meeting is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Let’s take a look at it, shall we?

I mean the first shot alone where they show the sign “Sherman Ranch, No Trespassing” and then cut to Jess just lounging around like he owns the place 😂 

And the dialogue:

Slim: What’re you doing here?

Jess: Gettin’ a crick in my back!

Plus this gem:

Jess: I had 3 or 4 swallows out of your private stream. My horse helped himself too, so you just figure out what I owe you, and I’ll be on my way. Oh, and uh, I looked at a bird flying over. Will there be a charge for that?

Look Jess I love you so much but who gave you the right to be so freaking sassy 😂 (we adore him for it though) but Slim had valid concerns, I see both sides of the situation here. I mean Jess, you should’ve read the sign, and I can see why Slim is wary of strangers, but I too would be ticked off if someone just showed up and was holding me at gunpoint

Not Jess just sending Slim flying 😂 boy don’t mess around

Overall I think this first meeting went really well you guys

Andy is so flipping adorable and I would die for him, the way he just gets along so well with Jess right off the bat 😭 10x funnier that he’s Slim’s brother though 🤣

Look at the racoon! And the way Andy washed his food for him 🥺 it's so cute how this little gesture shows how much he knows about animals and how much he cares for them

When Jess dozed off and Andy came in and startled him and he just whipped around with his gun and when he realized it was Andy and he was so apologetic 😭 but just gets me thinking about Jess being a loner and a drifter and being so used to looking out for himself yet still being so compassionate to this kid he just met. He’s so good with kids and I think it’s just darling seeing him interact with Andy and later on Mike.

Ugh I’m having so many Thoughts on Jess’s childhood, of course they are of the angsty variety, all prompted by these lines of dialogue (putting them in different colors so it's easier to differentiate between them):

Andy: Jess, how old were you when you first went out on your own?

Jess: Can’t hardly remember when I wasn’t on my own, like Jeremiah here and Sam. Only I didn’t find a soft touch like you. Maybe I didn’t want one. 

Andy: Do you like it better alone?

Jess: It just worked out that way.

Andy: Don’t you get lonely sometimes?

Jess: You get used to it.

As if these lines weren't heart breaking enough, Jess's tone of voice and facial expressions just really added to it. Yes there will be fics in the future no I do not need more wips

Jess had a fractured skull you say?? *adds to list of details to keep in mind for later*

Look at them playing cards together <3 yes I totally get that Andy's complete and total willingness to trust anyone who comes along is a bit concerning but it's also so sweet and I just love how he interacts with Jess

The way Andy was just working up the courage to ask Jess to take him with him and Jess being so gentle and telling him maybe when he’s older their relationship is everything you guys 😭

I know at times Slim seems a little harsh on Andy but he really just wants the best for him and it’s sweet. 

Love how Jonesy just deescalates the situation so smoothly and just calmly drags Slim away 😂

I’ve noticed that Jess gets called saddle tramp an awful lot so I’m starting a running count, we are currently at 1

Jonesy saying Slim is just a kid is just… it’s kinda funny but at the same time - how do I want to explain this? - like Slim is out here saying Andy needs to get things figured out, needs to become a better judge of character, and then Jonesy is just like “you’re figuring things out too pally. you’re responsible for your kid brother now and you still got some things to learn” You can see that Jonesy knows Slim really well and I love their dynamic

Jess was so ready to end Slim right then and there 😂 what can I say, I like my men violent 🤣 seriously tho the fact that Jess and Slim were just constantly beating each other up throughout this entire episode before they decided to try running a ranch together is the funniest thing

Everything about Bud Carlin irritates me, the way he speaks, the way he moves, his whole demeanor, I just hate it 😂

When Carlin’s asking about how long it takes the stage to get there once it’s in sight and Jonesy’s just out here throwing in a bunch of random circumstances to avoid answering 🤣 and then Carlin gets so irritated that he decides to ask Jess instead lol but Andy just immediately telling him what he wants to know so Jess doesn’t get hurt 😭 bless his little heart AND JONESY REACHING HIS ARM OUT TO GRAB THE GUY WHEN HE WENT TO PUNCH JESS Jonesy's a real one

When Jess and Andy are out in the barn shoeing the horse and Andy tries to grab a rifle and Jess stops him cuz he didn’t want him to get hurt 😭

Oh when Carlin makes Jess punch Slim in the face… like we know they were about to go at it when he walked in but now Jess is like no way, the friendship is progressing you guys, and poor Slim was just like "do it", somebody get this poor man some ice and an ibuprofen

But as soon as Carlin makes Jess hit Slim that third time he turned on Carlin so fast

Andy’s voice was almost breaking when he saw Slim laying on the ground and he was trying to wake him up and it almost broke me 😭

The way they all go to check on Slim as soon as the guy leaves the room 🥺

Andy was just begging Jess to go with Slim so that he’d have some help and Jess wouldn’t go and then Andy has tears in his eyes and says “No wonder you travel alone, who’d wanna team up with a saddle tramp like you?” nooooooo 😭 I really act like I’ve never seen this episode before also Jess saddle tramp count is now at 2

They really just threw that guy out of the stagecoach, that wasn’t very nice

JESS CAME BACK yes I already knew this would happen, hush your timing is impeccable pally

Look at these idiots (affectionate) 😂

Alright I'm gonna write out this scene for you because Reasons (once again in color so it's easier to differentiate):

Pete: I’m hurt bad, Jess. Don’t shoot.

Jess: I was hurt bad too. And it wasn’t just the money Pete.

Pete: I didn’t take it Jess. I swear I didn’t

*Pete proceeds to grab for his gun and Jess shoots him again, sending him flying off the cliff*

So satisfying yall also that dialogue though, I sense another fic in the future

Not the fanning of the guns, ugh I hate when they do that and Jess does it all the time

I love how Jess just puts his gun away and lets Slim deal with Carlin on his own, the way he just saunters over while they’re fist fighting and the way they replay the bit Carlin pulled on them when he made Jess hit Slim, sheer perfection 🤣

Aw Andy was so excited to see Jess and Slim back safely 🥺

Friendship has been established pallies, that is what we call ✨character development✨

Also if you haven’t noticed I’m a tad bit obsessed with Jess ok maybe more than a tad so here’s some bonus gifs of him being sassy 😂❤️

[carlos-tk]

nice ask week

hi D! it's nice ask week! What made you start watching LS and what was it about the show that made you spiral into fandom?

Hi Rae! Thanks for the question! 💗 Apologies for how long this took me to answer. Work took over my life this week 😢 Now buckle in for a stupidly long story 😅

Firstly, I had watched the original 911s first and half of its 2nd season whenever they aired (2018/19 thanks Wikipedia) and then totally forgot all about it because again #life 😅 I did hear about a spin off whenever they announced it but I guess the only info was that it was coming soon. Wikipedia is helping out and it seems it was May 2019. I didn’t really pay it much mind because by then I had already stopped watching the og.

So I move on with my life and don’t think about either series until September 2022. I saw a youtube clip of a scene: the throwing each other against the wall hookup from 1x02. I watched it and I was like.. OH?!👀🔥🥵 Saved it to my YouTube watch later and again forgot all about it because back then I was doing full time shift work and had no time to breathe let alone watch anything new 😂 (kicking myself because I could’ve been here a year ago) 😭

Cut to this year. I can give you an exact date i rediscovered 911 verse. May 17th 2023!! 🥳 All because of the Tarlos wedding.

Twitter is probably the platform I use the most cos it’s got all my sports content😅 Anyway I happened to be on the discover/trending tab and one of the top hashtags was #TarlosWedding which was airing that day. I clicked it to investigate and scrolled through. It was full of pics and fanvids of the wedding and again I was like OH 👁👁. I liked a bunch of the tweets to revisit and moved on with my day. A few days later because I had liked all that stuff, Twitter keeps recommending me more content. So I find myself back on YouTube and watched these:

and then a series of random scenes and I was like... okay I need full context for all of this. Another month passes and it’s probably end of June/early July and I’m like let me see if this is available anywhere to watch in Australia. I find it on Disney+ and they have seasons 1-3. This is finally when I watched the show. And then I could not stop thinking about it. S4 is no where to be found though. So I google and see it’s halfway through airing on Channel 7 here which means it won’t be uploaded to Disney+ for a while. So then I’m like UGH 😒😩😤 I wanted to binge the whole season like I had for the others. I kept tabs on when it would finish airing on TV and eventually the finale airs August 14th. The next day I start it and binge the whole season on 7Plus over a few days.

Now that I had seen their entire story so far, I was full blown hyper fixating. Like they’re on my mind ALL the time. I’m reading a book or watching a movie/show and thinking about Tarlos in place of the characters. I’m listening to a song or reading a poem/lyric and being like oh that’s so Tarlos coded😂😂 At this point i’m like oh no 😅😅 The fandom life is coming for me.

Then the biggest surprise of all I start getting the urge to write fanfic again! Which is insane because I had not written anything in (redacted) years. Like nearly every time as I was about to sleep, I start having ideas and rambling it out in my notes app at stupid hours like 2am 😂😅

Next we have the writers/actors strike and I’m like 👀trust me to find a new obsession and everyone is on strike and I’m gonna get nothing new for ages. Then I remember AO3 is a thing that exists and find my way to the 911 Lone Star tag and start reading fic again. Any spare moment I had I was itching to read whatever I could get my eyeballs on. I said to you the other day that I read your gym!AU first and look I might’ve read a random 1k word one shot or two but nothing I can actually remember like yours 😂🥵 I think the added pictures and texts made it so memorable because 1. I did not know you could do that on AO3 2. Rafael is like the hottest guy I’ve ever seen 😅😅 and 3. It was just so damn good 🥵 Sm*t with feelings and I am there. You teased the feelings a little and if/when (no pressure btw) you decide to revisit this universe just know I’ll be first in line 🙋🏼‍♀️ and the reason I can recall it as the first is it’s the oldest AO3 tab saved to my safari reading list 😅

By this point I’m reading fic through the end of August and September constantly. A few I read had peoples Tumblr links in the end notes so then I remember that Tumblr also exists 😂 I come over and lurk, explore the tags, look at all the beautiful gifs, look at a few peoples blogs and make a mental note to maybe join Tumblr again. I had 2 blogs back in hs, 1 fandom specific blog that got abandoned during my last year of hs and a sports/tv-series one I used a little in the years after hs but then again #life and I didn’t touch it after like 2016.

Come September 2023. I made a new email, signed up to Tumblr again, and requested an AO3 invite. Learning how to use this site again was wild because so much had changed since I last used it. I saw something about getting mistaken for bots so I spent a little time making the blog look nice and like an actual person exists before I bothered to follow anyone or any tags. October rolls around and I finally start using it every day and now I’m here with all of y’all 💗

Sorry for the extremely long story and again sorry for how long it took 😅😅

[celiastjamesoscar]

Of course, I picked up on the reference! It's TLOU! I read that and I was like Dina!

Linctavia was probably the first ship I fully shipped. I'm usually indifferent or flexible with ships, like I'm usually fine with anyone. But with The 100 I only wanted Lincoln & Octavia together. I definitely leaned more towards Clexa but that was just because I loved Lexa. Clarke, I got to be honest I didn't love. I didn't hate her, but I didn't love her. The first time I truly liked/loved Clarke was in season 3 (when she was around Lexa). It sucks because I loved the show, it was one of my favorites and then after Lexa I tried to power through but after Lincoln, I watched maybe 3 episodes and stopped because I literally didn't enjoy it anymore (which is weird because the last episode I watched I did really like and enjoyed) but I stopped being happy to watch it. I said I wasn't abandoning the show and I'd watch when it ended because of course the show was exploring all the stuff I wanted to see back in season 1 & 2, and I was loving what I was hearing about Octavia but still haven't finished even season 3 so we'll see if that ever happens. Octavia, Lincoln, and Lexa are still some of my all-time favorite characters in anything ever though!

Hot take but Ellie fumbled the bag with Dina

Lincoln was one of my favorites, and I love him so much. I also really loved Lexa, but I’m just like you, I couldn’t stand Clarke 😭 I also only liked her when she was with Lexa. Taking out Lexa and then Lincoln a few episodes later ruined the show for me, and I stopped watching it after he was gone. I’ve seen a few clips of the show here and there, and I also watched the very last episode of the show too. Season 1 and 2 were amazing and the first half of season 3 as well, after that it went to shit. Octavia, Lincoln, and Lexa are some of my favorites as well!!

[utilitycaster]

Hi! I absolutely loved your Dimension 20 recommendation list for that other person. As someone who has seen LOADS of clips of D20 shows and knows what each campaign is about but has only started watching with A Court of Fey & Flowers, a lot of your thoughts lined up with my own expectations for the ones I haven’t yet watched.

I do have a question, though: You mentioned that, “[A Crown of Candy is] the first season where they switched up the earlier RP/Combat alternating rhythm, and they have never looked back (thankfully),” and then reference that a few times again. I’ve only seen clips of the earliest seasons—the earliest campaign I’ve binged is A Crown of Candy itself.

What exactly did you mean by “earlier RP/Combat alternating rhythm”? How was earlier seasons different from later ones? Later seasons do alternate between having RP moments and combat moments, so I was a bit confused by that.

Thanks in advance! I only recently found your tumblr, and it’s great. 👏🏻

Thank you so much, and glad that was helpful!

For Fantasy High, The Unsleeping City Part 1, Escape from the Bloodkeep, and I think Tiny Heist they alternated between episode that was full RP/episode that was pretty much fully combat. This meant that the editing and episode lengths sometimes got a little weird or stilted - you'd have like, 2-ish hours of RP followed by usually about an hour to 90 minutes of a fairly big setpiece combat, and then 2 more hours of RP, and so on, even if it would have made more sense to have let things breathe a little longer or have shorter fights. This ended up leading to some clumsy moments late in Fantasy High where Brennan did have to basically fully railroad things because the party had figured out the puzzle too soon and so he had to delay combat forcibly because of this artificial episode pattern

Starting with Fantasy High Season 2 (which was live and therefore more unpredictable) and A Crown of Candy, they stopped forcing this RP episode/combat episode pattern, which let them tell a more complex and natural narrative that feels much more like, well, typical D&D. It's still alternating combat and RP, as D&D usually is, but this gives the cast the freedom to avoid a combat encounter, or to have shorter combats, or have longer RP sessions. I still like those earlier seasons but I know some people have had trouble getting through them specifically because of that kind of stilted pattern.

[jackiequick]

Ok so I was scrolling through my drafts a few weeks ago and I found a fic where actually it is based on the flash ep 4 season 8 and after watching multiverse of madness last year I got an idea for this fic actually and I started working on it but left half way through but now I’m back to working on it again !!! Here’s a sneak peek !!!

I like it! Seems cool. Sorry I didn’t see it earlier @gaminggirlsstuff I get a lot of notification on the daily 😅

Btw I’ve haven’t seen The Flash season 8 or season 9 haha. I stopped watching after season 7ish, only watching clips and stuff of the later episodes on YouTube. But like any Arrow and Flash fan I DID watch Oliver’s return episode 

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 1-5

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

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

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

Word Count: 15k

chapter 1

It took Y/N longer than she had hoped to finally catch up to him. He seemed to go from the cute little boy with a bow tie who sat beside her in her kindergarten class to working for the FBI by the time she graduated high school. It wasn’t fair that he happened to be smarter than anyone on earth, causing him to test out of elementary school before she even got to know him.

Spencer Reid had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the sweetest personality to match. Y/N saw him around as he grew up, coming home to see his mom often and minding his business as he wandered around in his free time.

He liked to sit on the swings at the abandoned park across the street from her house, it was a place he would go to at the most random hours of the day for years on end. Every time he was in the area, he visited the swing. And She’d watch him from her window seat in her bedroom. Pretending to read, but really she was watching him read.

It was years of watching, from the ages of 13 to 18 when he was coming back and forth from working on his second Ph.D., and she was still trying to make it through high school.

But she never walked out there and talked to him, she knew nothing real about him other than his name and that he was smart. The town told rumours about him being an alien or a government experiment because there was no way a kid could be so smart, but she never believed them. She liked to keep to the idea that he was sweet, smart, and special.

He stopped coming to the swing for a while after they turned 18, her mother had said something about Spencer Reid’s mother being admitted to the nursing home she worked at and y/n drew the conclusion that he’d finally left the small Nevada town she was seemingly trapped in.

Y/N kept tabs with him online, as weird as it felt to her she had a strange sense of pride when it came to Spencer’s achievements. That was the kid she sat beside in kindergarten out there working for the FBI, saving lives and changing the world. It inspired her.

So sure enough, when she moved to Virginia to join the FBI academy it was the perfect opportunity to finally be on an even playing field with him. An excuse to reach out to him and catch up, get to know him. She was technically older than him, by 10 months, and yet somehow he seemed to feel unreachable, wiser and more of an adult than she ever would be.

At 28 she finally bumps into him again. She’s carrying boxes into her new apartment with help from a moving company when he leaves the apartment across the hall from her.

“Oh my gosh, Spencer Reid?” she said with the biggest smile spreading across her face.

“Hi?” he says, not having any clue who she is.

“You might not remember me, I’m Y/N Y/L/N we were in kindergarten together in Nevada?”

He takes a moment to think, she watches his eyes flutter as he recalls the memory to his mind. She is mesmerized by how his brain works, like a filing cabinet he can just pull memories out. “Oh, yes we sat together the first day and you got in trouble later that afternoon for adding water to the sand because I had said it was too dry to build a model of the Pyramid of Giza.”

Her smile gets even bigger, “yes! I hope this isn’t weird but I’ve kept up with you over the years, I’ve always thought it was so amazing that someone from my town was off doing incredible things! I can’t believe I’m moving in across from you that makes it look so much worse oh god, I promise I’m not stalking you!” She rambled anxiously.

He laughed, “it’s okay I believe you! I’m surprised honestly that you remember me, we were what? 5? That’s a good memory you must have?”

She walked over to him and out of the way of the men moving her boxes into her apartment, that’s what she was paying them for anyway. She set the box down on the floor beside herself to free her arms, “I think your first ever friend would leave an impact on your memory.”

“We did have a good bond before I was transferred out,” he recalls with a smile.

“Well,” she smiled right back, “I also work with the FBI if you want to get coffee before work on Monday and catch up? See if there’s a possibility of being friends once again?”

“Yeah!” he answers abruptly, “I leave around 7:15 normally and I always go to the little cafe down the road, what department are you in?”

“VICAP,” she said, “just a floor above the BAU, surprised I’m only running into you now”

“You sure you’re not stalking me?” he joked.

She shook her head lightly, her cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. “Promise, just inspired by you, that’s all.”

He chuckled to himself, almost shocked that such a lovely person would be inspired by him. “Well, thank you. I’ll let you get back to moving in and I will see you on Monday Y/N.” he said with a small wave and walked down the corridor.

She sighed to herself, this was going to be amazing.

---

Y/N had barely unpacked anything by the time Monday had rolled around. She spent most of her time working on her bedroom organization, leaving a mess of boxes everywhere else. Going through her closet to find the best outfit for her first-morning commute with Spencer.

Her job didn’t require as much fieldwork as he did, so she could wear anything she wanted to the office as long as it was professional. She settled on black flared dress pants, a nice white turtleneck, the watch her family gave her when she graduated from the academy and her cute healed wedge boots.

She grabbed her purse and wallet, ensuring she had her keys and badge in there before unlocking her safe and clipping her gun to her belt. She grabbed her go bag and coat and draped them over one arm, holding her purse in the other.

With everything she needed, she walked to her front door, turning off her alarm just to change the setting to protect her empty apartment. She closed and locked the door behind herself just as Spencer walked out into the hallway.

“Good morning Spencer,” she said, cheerful as ever.

“You’re awfully cheerful for this time of day,” he yawned after speaking.

“Late night?” she asked, joining him as he walked towards the building entrance.

“We had an emergency case this weekend that kicked my ass, I’ve only been home for 15 hours. Hopefully, today is just a desk day,” he yawned again. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re tired as well, from moving this weekend.”

“Oh I’m exhausted, normally I don’t leave till quarter to 8, living farther away now is going to suck a bit.”

“At least our building is nice,” he adds.

“It seems wonderful so far.” He held the door for her as they walked into the parking lot, he dug her keys from her bag, “do you want to take my car?”

“Sure, seeing as I don’t have a car, I normally take the subway,” he said softly, walking to the passenger side and opening the door as he heard the door unlock.

“Well if you want a ride every morning I don’t mind, even If you need rides to emergency cases,” she smiled softly.

Spencer insisted on buying her coffee, saying it was only fair for driving him. But really it was because he wanted to spoil her, ever since she said she was inspired by him his mind hasn’t been able to stop playing that sentence on loop. He’s completely enamoured by her, willing to do whatever it takes to get on her good graces. Not realizing she’s willing to do the same for him.

In no time she’s pulling up to the main building, both of them showing their badges before being allowed access into the parking structure of their building. Y/N parked close to the main elevator, having impeccable luck with getting that spot in the garage.

“We still have time before we’re officially on the clock, if you wanted to come meet my team?” He offered, hitting the button in the elevator for floor 3. His floor.

“I’d love to meet the legend that is Penelope Garcia,” she smiled.

“She is wonderful,” he agreed with a smile.

The elevator dinged and she felt her heart drop into her stomach thinking of how Spencer was going to introduce her. He walked with her towards the glass doors, holding them open for her as she walked into the bullpen.

All eyes were suddenly on Spencer and Y/N, so many faces she’s never seen before, and 2 she knows too well from her research on the BAU. She smiled lightly as she walked towards them all. Spencer not far behind her.

“Good morning,” Spencer smiled a small pressed-lipped smile. “This is agent Y/N Y/L/N, she works up in VICAP, she was one of my best friends in elementary school.”

She smiled, so that’s how. “Hello!” She waved, “It’s so nice to meet you all,”

“Derek Morgan,” the tall dark and handsome one reached his hand out for yours.

“Oh, I don’t shake hands sorry,” she said, grabbing her right middle finger with her left hand and smiling lightly.

He laughed, “wow pretty boy, how come you never told us you have a twin?”

“Do you not shake hands either?” She asked him, “we really do have a lot of catching up to do Spence.”

“Emily Prentiss, it’s lovely to see Spence bring in new friends.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve always admired the BAU, I’ve actually compiled a few of the cases you’ve worked on this year, I’m pretty good at finding patterns even the system overlooks.”

“Oh yes, Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve seen your name on all the emails, thank you you’ve sent some of the best-connected cases to us, you’ve brought justice to people who we would have never connected to cases,” JJ said enthusiastically, “I was actually just about to tell Hotch about the newest one you sent me.”

“It’s horrible, isn’t it? I’ve been carefully looking over this case for 2 years now I knew you’d all be able to help with it. It’s right up your ally,” she nervously laughed.

“You sent in the files on the family annihilator that was going after people he believed to be decedents of Cain from the bible right?” David Rossi asked.

She nodded her head and sighed, “yeah everyone told me it was a stretch to catch onto but when I noticed all the men were from the same online ancestry family tree I knew you guys needed to see it.”

“That was specifically interesting, the death of his own brother led him to seek revenge on the father of murder,” Spencer agreed.

“So what’s this new one you’ve brought us?” Derek asked.

“Oh, would you like to pitch it to us? We’re all here we can meet you in the briefing room before your shift starts upstairs?” JJ offered.

“Oh sure,” she smiled, finally it was her time to show off.

Soon enough, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia and Jenifer Jareau were all staring at you in the briefing room.

“In Wichita Kansas, there have been a string of murders over the last 6 years that have all been incredibly, creepily similar,” she started explaining as she handed out the case files to everyone.

“Each victim is female, 16 to 24, they’ve all been strangled with rope while completely naked, signs of brutal sexual assault, binding and torture. They’ve all been found wrapped in shower curtains and placed in various public locations. Clearly a sign of remorse with how he keeps them covered but still a taunt that we can’t find him even now that he’s 6 victims deep.”

“Clarise Richardson, victim number 1 was raped, strangled with rope and left by an underpass. She was found in 1998, the M.E said she was dead 16 hours when they found her, COD was asphyxiation. Her family reports she was last seen at least 73 hours before she was found. So he kept her for a while. There were fibres under her nails of green carpet, either she was held at someone's house or in a van with carpet like they had in the 70s and 80s.”

“Were there any fingerprints or DNA on the bodies?” Prentiss asked.

“Yes, there was a sperm sample retrieved on victim number 5, Sharon Flynn. Most likely he wore a condom for the rest of his rapes and he wasn’t in the system already. Either he never ejaculated in earlier rapes before he grew to murder or his victims never came forward before 1998.”

“which is highly likely, we saw in the EARs case in California how hard it was to get the men and women who were raped to even come forward. There were 4 confirmed cases in the news before more came forward with similar stories. It’s seen as a shameful thing when in reality it’s just giving them more power if they believe they’ll never be caught.” Spencer explained.

“Yes, it’s very hard to come forward when it happens to you,” she agreed before quickly hanging subject. “I’ve been searching for any rapes in the area with similar MO, choking, BDSM, ropes, vans with green carpet, and I’ve found 3 women who claimed to be raped by a man at festivals the late 70’s who had an orange van with green carpet who bonded them up in a very intricate form of bondage that tightened every time they squirmed to entice them not to move. And from my research, that's the same pattern of rope as the rope burn on the 6 bodies we have.”

“All 6 of them are fairly similar it’s just their dumpsites that sets them apart. He didn’t have one strict area that he stuck to, he seems to have no problem travelling to them.” Emily said, flipping through the files.

“I’m thinking he has a job the requires him to still use his van. Like a travelling plumber, a phone or computer tech, home surveillance or maybe even he’s with Jehovah's witness or the Mormon church. It would explain him being able to get into these women’s houses and neighbourhoods long enough to pick someone, learn their schedule and grab them.” Y/N explained.

“Garcia, can you look into those businesses, as well as independent contractors, satellite companies, mailmen, and anyone else who might have been on the job by the victim's houses on the dates and times they were last seen,” Hotch asked.

“Absolutely, I’ll also run the DNA samples in my other databases.”

“I was about to ask you to do that, I think he might have children. There is a very large gap between the rapes and the jump to rape and murder, if you could run the saliva sample from victim 3 that's on her neck with any foster system or genealogy company to see if he has a son or uncle we can trace his sample to?”

“That's a great idea, I’ve never thought to do that,” Garcia smiled. “I like you, you’re a smart cookie!”

“Looks like we’re headed to Wichita,” Hotch said. “Do you think VICAP would be mad if we stole you for a few days? You have more connections with the Wichita police than we do, they might cooperate more If they know a friendly face.”

“Absolutely, let me grab my go-bag from upstairs!” Y/N jumped up, “I’ll be right back down!”

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, And with that, she was out the door.

“Reid if you don’t marry her I will,” Penelope said softly.

“Okay.” He blushed.

—

She took a seat beside Reid on the jet, the two of them chatting amongst themselves for a while before they were called for the second briefing.

“So local PD think they have a recent victim from this weekend they want us to check out,” Penelope said over video chat. “she’s a little different than the others. Katie Newton, 27 was found bound to her bed, already having passed and was being assaulted when her husband came home. He screamed at the guy who was only wearing a ski mask and “tight-y white-y’s” as the husband described. He grabbed his bag and clothes with him but he left her tied up with the little time he had to knock the husband out of the way and run out.”

“Did he get any other identification marks on the unsub?” Y/N asked.

“He said he was pasty white, 5’8 and he didn’t talk. He didn’t scream, nothing, he just grabbed his things and ran. He does however remember he had a very large brown birthmark on his chest covering the right nipple down to his stomach.”

“Okay that’s good to know, why do they think it’s our guy?” Rossi asked.

“Blood found on the rope she was tied up with can match back to 13 different women. 6 of the murders that Y/N brought to us, 1 of the rapes she found and 5 other break-in and rapes of other women in the area.”

“Holy shit,” Y/N whispered to herself.

“Well done on finding this one Y/N, this one is going to be big.” Morgan complimented her with a smile.

“Thanks,” she smiled back, “I didn’t expect any of this when I connected the 6 of them originally. This is insane.”

“have you ever been in fieldwork like this?” Hotch asked.

“At the academy, I was combat trained, I have all my clearances and I’m a great shot. I’m good on my feet and I tested perfectly on hostage talk down.” She tried not to brag but this was almost as important as a job interview.

“Well damn,” Morgan nodded in approval. “We might just have to seal you full time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all!”

“Good,” hotch smiled, something he didn’t do often. “I’m going to send you and Reid to the M.E to see what else we can find out about these new break-in homicides. Prentiss and Rossi, I want you to travel to the last dumpsite and the latest crime scene to see what else could connect them. Morgan and JJ come with me to the station to set up communication with the local PD and media we don’t need them naming him like they did with BTK.”

“Garcia, would you also widen the search for anyone convicted of sexual misconduct, flashing, stalking, break-ins where underwear was stolen or and peeping toms? Go all the way back to the 70s. If any of them are now working for any businesses that have vans and require him to travel. This guy has to have a mistake somewhere that you will find.” Y/N asked one last time.

“Got it, genius girl, over and out.”

—-

The bureau had the funds for rooms for the main team, meaning Y/N had to double up with someone and she had to decide who once they landed and headed to the hotel.

“It wouldn’t be weird if we got a room with two queen beds right?” She asked Spencer, “it would give us a chance to catch up in our downtime like a sleepover we never had as kids.” She nervously rambled in the SUV as Reid drove.

“No I don’t mind, It would be fun if we get any sleep in this case. This one seems like it will be a bit of a brain rattler.” Reid agreed with a soft pressed-lipped smile.

They booked their rooms, dropped off their things and all headed their separate ways. The M.E’s office was close to the police station, the two of you in an SUV followed Hotch, JJ and Morgan in another down the road.

The bodies had all been cremated or buried shortly after being found, there wasn’t anything fresh enough to examine for them but they did have access to all the information on all the cases.

“I’ve been the medical examiner here for the last 30 years,” the nice old man said as he led them down the hall to the storage room. “These ones have all been some of the worst cases I’ve seen here. So much so that I keep them all in their own boxes just in case a day like today ever happens.”

“That is very helpful for us thank you so much!” She smiled at him as he held the storage door open.

“They’re all labelled by name and date. If you have any questions about tests or need me to run more with what we have left just give me a holler!” He said as he left the room.

Y/N sighed. “Why do I feel like this is going to take a million years?”

“I can read 20,000 words a minute, it will take me 3 hours to read everything in this room. Luckily we only need to read these few boxes.” Spencer pointed at the wall.

“Okay boy wonder, stop showing off,” she smiled, taking the Victim # 5 case box down first. “She was the first one I put into the system when I joined VICAP.”

“Is that why you sent this case to JJ?”

“Partly,” she sighed again. “There was the emotional attachment of this being my first case but there were just too many connections I knew you guys could bring justice to her family. She was so young.”

Spencer opened a box and she watched as his eyes darted across the pages as he flipped through them. She was mesmerized by how he could do that. But he was probably even smarter than god so it made sense.

“This is interesting. They found LSD in the system of the 3 rapes from back in the day which isn’t that uncommon for the time period or the places where they were abducted, but what’s strange is the amount. This is enough LSD to make someone go insane, no one in their right mind would willingly take this much LSD?” Spencer said.

“They were all found 2 days later dehydrated and alone in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way of knowing if more women didn’t have this happen and died where he left them.”

“He is probably in his 50’s now. How fit would he have to be to still be able to break into houses and rape and murder women?” Spencer asked.

“Well that might be just why he stopped dumping, he might have a bad back and can't lift the dead weight. He is more willing to get caught in someone's house so that he doesn’t have to do the dumping, he can just leave after. 5 of the 6 home invasions were with women who lived alone or husbands who worked night shifts. So they wouldn’t be home. He watched them long enough to know when he could successfully get away with this.” Y/N explained as she flipped through boxes.

“And the rope technique our last victim was found in is exactly the same as the rope burns as the others you’re correct,” Spencer complimented her. “He might have ex-girlfriends or even an ex-wife who he would have tried BDSM on and she didn’t like it, so now he feels like he has to do it this way. When we deliver the profile we should alarm the public about him to draw out any women who would have willingly tried something with our unsub.”

Y/N nodded as he spoke, agreeing with everything. “That could have even been the original stressor, all the women are pretty vanilla, I talked to the husbands over the phone and the original rape victims. They weren’t into trying anything like this in their free time. 2 of the rapes were also virgins. They all had good jobs and good grades, they were outstanding, low-risk members of the community. He might be getting revenge on the women who wouldn’t indulge in this fantasy.”

“He probably feels a lack of control in his personal life, maybe he even has a more dominating wife who he feels he can't stand up to so this is how he deals with it.” Spencer agreed.

“Let's go see Hotch, I think we should deliver the profile.”

—-

They walked into the police station, gliding through the doors like they owned the place. Emily and JJ watched as they walked over to hotch with the exact same energy. Both speaking with their hands and rambling about what they had found.

“So he’s a fit, early 50’s, white male. Married, probably with kids, works with or owns a van. He has a problem with authority in his own life, he feels like he is in a submissive role all day be it from a female boss who’s always on his ass or his wife. It’s possible he even has only daughters and no sons. He feels emasculated, surrounded by women, which is why he started taking these women originally to rape them with BDSM-like acts to finally have that control he lacks in his everyday life.” Y/N explained. “He wouldn’t be very handsome, he would have issues speaking with most women, he keeps to himself, he might have even failed out of jobs involving the police or security, he wants to be in a place of power but he has none of the social skills to accomplish what he wants. I would even look into local army cadets or boy scouts he could be a very old member or the father of someone in one of those groups. His affinity for binding them up and the types of ropes he used are very common BDSM ropes but the knots are reminiscent of ones my brothers would do in at Navy cadets.”

“You got all that from the M.E?” Derek said, shocked at how good she was at this.

“I’ve been staring at his work for 2 years, every time a case from this town came in I checked into it to tie it to this guy. I don’t know what it is but this one gets to me, like BTK or Ed Kemper, these men have specific vendettas against women, they need to dominate women because they have a strong mother or wife in their presence. I know the type of man he is and I want to see him rot in prison.”

Spencer walked over to another table, spreading out a map and beginning to look at the geographical profile. Making down the 3 rapes and their dumpsites, the 6 abducted women and their dumpsites as well as the 6 home invasion homicides. Narrowing down on the geographical profile to find his comfort zone.

Y/N stood beside him watching him draw perfect circles over the map, placing a dot right in the middle. “He either lives or works in this area. Everything is within 35 miles of this area.”

Hotch took out his phone and called Garcia, placing the phone on the table with the speaker on. “Hello my lovelies, what can I do for you?”

“Have you narrowed anything down?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, I have 117 orange vans originally bought in the late ’70s that are still registered to men in this area all between the ages of 45 and 60. 63 of them work in home security, 13 of those have a son in boy scouts and 4 of those have prior peeping tom allegations.” She explained.

“Any of the 4 look interesting?” Hotch asked.

“We have Travis Johnson, 55 he works for Acorn Security, he was doing service in each town that a murder took place the same week they went missing. He is married and has been since 1980 right when he stopped raping and his 5th and last daughter was born the same week that Clarice Richardson was murdered in 1998. They took in a foster child to give him a boy 3 years ago who is in boy scouts, and has all his badges in you guessed it, knot tying.”

“Do we have his home and work address?” Morgan asked.

“Yes of course I do chocolate thunder, they’ve been sent to you already. I’ve also sent a list of his appointments for today, he might be on the hunt.”

“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan smiled at the phone.

“It's what they pay me the big bucks for.”

She hung up and hotch immediately started handing out bullet-proof vests. “Time to catch him.”

Spencer rested a hand on your back as he passed you, smiling as if to say 'good job'.

Y/n grabbed her vest and her go-bag and quickly changed into something more suited for chasing after a runner. It almost always came to that in her experience. She came back out in jeans and a white long sleeve shirt tucked in, her vest on and her hair up. She placed her earpiece in and straightened out her gun. Making sure the clip was full and adding an extra one to her vest.

“Ready?” She asked Spencer as he tightened his vest.

“Let’s do this.”

They split up, Prentiss Rossi and JJ went to his house while Reid, Morgan, Hotch and Y/L/N took a squad of local cops to where the unsub was supposedly doing his house calls.

They slowly drove through the neighbourhoods, lights off just paroling up and down the streets. They saw an orange van parked on the side of the street, they watched as the unsub got out of the driver's seat, grabbing a bag and walking up to a woman’s house. Slowly they all got out of the SUV, Morgan and Hotch taking the back while Reid and Y/L/N took the front door. They waited for confirmation that he wasn’t alone in this home, before going in.

They could hear a woman talking and then there was a scream, “I’m going in,” Y/L/N said, Kicking the door down before Reid took the lead, Y/N following behind him.

“Travis Johnson? FBI!” Spencer yelled.

The two of them cleared the main room, working their way to the hallway, Reid let her take the lead to the bedroom where they heard the struggle.

“Travis put down the rope and let her go,” Y/N said slowly as he walked into the room, gun pointed.

“And why should I?” He panicked, holding the woman against his chest, she was crying gripping onto the rope he was holding tightly around her throat.

“I’m a huge fan of your work!” Y/N said. “I work for VICAP, I’m the one who had to put each and every single one of your victims in the system. I know exactly how much you’re into control and BDSM, it’s honestly surprising that you have to force these women into it, why are women so against letting a big strong man control them anymore?” She said softly as she lowered the gun and her voice.

“You know, I’ve always thought BDSM was super sexy, I’d love to be tied up and taken control of, if you put down the rope how would you like to have a willing participant one day?” She teased him, getting closer and closer, she could see he was rock hard. He loosened the rope and pushed her to the side, stepping forward towards Y/N who quickly flipped him to the floor and cuffed him.

“Travis Johnson you are under arrest for the rape and murder of over 12 women. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one will be appointed for you. If you chose to share anything without a lawyer present you have the right to stop at any time. Is that clear?”

She single handily lifted him to his feet and dragged him out of the room as the men in the hall just watched with awe.

“You’re a little bitch you know that?” The unsub said as he struggled in her grasp.

She slammed him against the hallway wall, pressing right up against his back, whispering in his ear “oh so now you have a big mouth huh, finally feel like you can talk to a woman who isn’t tied down? I’m in control here, you’re my little bitch you hear me? Only good boys get to speak to me.” She said as she pulled him back off the wall and handed him off to local PD. “Have fun being a little bitch in prison Travis.”

She stood there with her arms crossed catching her breath as the adrenalin shook through her body.

“Well done Y/L/N,” Hotch and Morgan put their fists out to give her props.

“How would you like to join the team for good?” Hotch asked? “we’ve been looking for an extra hand.”

“Absolutely!”

—

They were going to spend the night in Wichita, all agreeing to spend the night getting drinks at the local bar suggested by the PD. Piling into the SUV all together with Spencer offering to DD.

“How much time have you put into Travis?” Prentiss asked in the back seat beside Y/N.

“Sharon Flynn was the first case I ever put into my system 2 years ago. Her case looked so gruesome and evil it never left my mind. So then when Alice Webster, number 6 came in I did some more digging and found the 4 before Sharon and the 3 rapes, I knew it was cold for a while but something about him always stuck with me. And for some reason last week when I emailed the info to JJ out of the blue I had a gut feeling he was at it again.” Y/N explained.

“It’s a special talent to just feel when something is wrong.” JJ smiled back at them.

“I’ve always been, not fascinated, by serial killers but more interested in the chase of justice.” She explained, “if that makes sense. I love puzzles and finding answers and at least this way the end result is families finding peace.”

They pulled into the parking lot, all of them finding their way into the bar before the ladies went to the bathroom to freshen up.

“So Y/N,” Prentiss said, taking her phone out and calling Penelope. “The ladies of the BAU are very close, so welcome to our little group.”

“exactly.” Penelope said over the phone, “welcome to the group you’re going to fit right in!” She cheered.

“Thank you, VICAP was not a tight-knit group like y’all are. I’m extremely excited to get to know you all more.” Y/N smiled as she straightened her shirt out in the mirror.

“So you and Spencer?” JJ asked.

“We were in the same kindergarten class,” Y/N said with a small smile. “I thought he was going to be my best friend and then he took some test and was bumped into 4th grade. By the time I was in high school he had already finished his second Ph.D.”

“So you never kept up with each other?” Prentiss asked.

She shook her head. “I knew of him, my mom is the Activities Organizer at the home his mom is at, he used to go to the park across from my house, he now lives across the hall from me and works with me. I think we were always supposed to be friends but it wasn’t the right time till now.”

“Sounds like you have a crush,” Penelope teased through the phone.

“I do.” She smiled to herself. “I think I always have.”

“If pretty boy was here he’d say that there is a statistical likelihood that because you’ve been interested in him for longer than 3 years you’re most likely in love with him and you'll never not be.” Prentiss explained, “I heard him say that to Hotch once.”

She nodded along, “I guess I just need to get him to fall in love with me now.”

“It won't be that difficult.” JJ placed her hand on Y/N’s back and they all made their way out of the bathroom smiling.

The men were all sitting together at a table with everybody’s drinks already waiting.

“We didn’t know what you liked,” Spencer said as Y/N sat beside him. “So I said I’d go get whatever you want.”

“Or we can go up to the bar together.” She smiled.

The two of them got up and walked to the bar, the rest of the team watched them.

She leaned against the bar, ordering her drinks and pressing in close to Spencer. “It’s been so nice getting to spend time with you.” He said softly.

She was handed her drinks before she could even respond. Taking her tequila shot there and bringing her margarita back to the table as Spencer followed swiftly behind her.

They all drank and exchanged case stories from within and beyond the BAU, Spencer was able to add a lot of input but he was always cut off. Y/N leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “you can tell me all your facts later I really want to hear them.” She smiled so softly Spencer felt his heart about to burst in his chest.

Emily left the group to go flirt with the bartender, JJ was on FaceTime in the SUV with Will, Rossi had disappeared with a local woman and Hotch and Morgan were exchanging childhood stories over a beer in the corner.

The bar was playing old, slow music, almost everyone had filtered out but there were still older local couples hanging out and dancing in the middle of the room.

“Do you dance?” Y/N asked Spencer.

“I can try.”

She took his hand and led him to the floor. Drunk on the alcohol and his touch as she slipped his hands around to her back, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned her head on his chest. She felt his cheek rest on the top of her head as the two of them just swayed in a circle together.

“Do you have any other memories of me?” Y/N asked him softly.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “You lived across the street from the park, and your mom works at the nursing home. You have 2 younger brothers who have always looked older than you. They would come and go when I was sitting on the lone swing and I’d always see you in the window reading. I knew you were my age but it still never felt right for me to talk to you when I was in university.”

“I watched you every time you were on the swings, you looked so peaceful. You read at least a book a day every time you were out there and it became so special to me seeing you there every weekend.” She explained.

“The world works in mysterious ways.” He explained.

She held him as close as she could. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect her day to go like this. She expected coffee and a weird goodbye in the elevator and staring at a computer screen all day. Somehow she ended up in Spencer's arms in a different state after having caught the serial killer that's haunted her dreams for years.

He rubbed his thumb lightly over her back, “do you want to go back to the hotel? We have an early flight.” He whispered.

“Yeah,” she smiled pulling back but reaching down to hold his hand as they walked over to Hotch and Morgan.

They drove home quietly, everyone in the back was happily drunk and tired. They parked and wandered up to their rooms, saying goodbye at their doors and disappearing into their rooms.

Spencer let her take the bathroom first, changing into her PJ’s and then he did the same. She laid in her bed, facing his as he sat up and read.

“Can I come lie beside you?” She asked, knowing exactly how needy she sounded.

He nodded, pulling the sheet back so she could slip right in. She laid on her side and just looked up at him. Absolutely astounded that she was with him.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Spencer asked, putting his book down and sliding down the bed to be on her level.

“Yeah?” She said nervously.

“Today you said it’s hard for people to come forward after they are assaulted, it sounded like personal experience and I wanted you to know if you need anyone, I’m always available for you.” He explained.

“Oh,” her face dropped. “I was 12, he was 15. You were in high school at the same time as him. I don’t know if you’d remember him, his name was Christopher.”

Spencer nodded along as she spoke. “When my mom finally went back to work she didn’t trust me watching my brothers alone so her friend offered to babysit us during the days. Her foster son took advantage of me the whole summer and when my parents finally found out he went into Sophomore year and told everyone that the nerdy girl who looks like bugs bunny was obsessed with him, that I stalked him and that anything I said about him wasn’t real.”

“I’m so sorry.” He rubbed his hand over her shoulder to soothe her.

“It’s okay, they used to call me bugs bunny because of my overbite. I used to rest my front teeth on my front lip and they would throw carrots at me,” she explained further.

“It all makes sense now,” he said softly.

“What does?”

“When I was 13 the seniors had a cheerleader invite me onto the football field and convinced me to strip down to my underwear, she was about to kiss me when all the football guys ran out and beat me up, they tied me to the goal post and the one said ‘we should really hook you up with bugs bunny, you losers would be perfect together.’ And they left me there all night long.”

“Oh Spencer I am so sorry,” she cuddled in close to him, placing her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I think we went through our traumas separately all these years because something bigger than us knew we’d need each other one day.”

“When we get back to Virginia, would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer asked.

“I would want nothing more.” She hugged him a bit tighter.

They stayed like that for a while until Spencer felt Y/N slip into the night's slumber. He quietly reached for the lamp, turning it off and readjusting himself under Y/N’s grasp.

He fell asleep not so long after. Both sleeping soundly for the first time in a long time.

Chapter 2

They had 3 back to back cases once they arrived back at Quantico. They travelled from DC to California to North Carolina within 2 weeks of Y/N working with the BAU.

Meaning she had not yet gone on that date Spencer asked her out on.

“If we get another call as soon as I reach that elevator I am leaving and not coming back. I am exhausted,” Emily said as she packed her bag and all but sprinted for the door.

“I hope my car still runs, it’s been parked here for so long now,” Y/N added and she walked towards the door. “You coming Spence?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the car,” he said with a smile as he waved her off.

Emily and Y/N waited for the elevator, Penelope and JJ quickly followed behind them with their bags in their hands. Penelope’s heels clicked as fast as they could against the floor as she tried to catch up.

“Girls night?” JJ asked, “Will said Henry is asleep and he’s about to go to bed too, so I’m free for a bit?”

“I have to go home, I’ve barely moved into my new apartment, I still have to unpack,” Y/N explained.

“How about we come have some wine and help you?” Emily offered.

“If I’m being honest, I kinda want some alone time with Spencer.” She blushed bright red.

“Oooooo,” Penelope and JJ teased.

“It’s about time someone gave Spencer the attention he deserves,” Emily laughed.

“Believe me he’s going to get too much attention now that I live across the hall from him, work with him and carpool with him,” she giggled right back. “Has he never had a girlfriend before?”

“Not that we know of,” JJ said, “he’s very quiet.”

“Have you?” Penelope asked, “dated before that is?”

“oh no, I’ve never dated anyone before, I haven’t even kissed anyone in years,” she said feeling bashful and embarrassed.

“I think that's what Spencer needs though,” Emily added, “He needs someone on the same level as him all ‘round, you two match in every sense it’s almost perfect.”

“He’s probably the only man who doesn’t make me feel scared like I want my first real love to be with someone I feel safe with, I don’t think I could do anything with like, Morgan or Hotch or any men like them. They’re nice, yeah but the aggressive authority side isn’t something I’m comfortable around outside of work.” She explained.

“Yeah, Spencer is a sweetheart. I think that’s why I didn’t end up with him honestly.” JJ said softly, “Gideon tried to hook us up years ago cause we were the youngest on the team, but I do crave that authority outside of work.”

“It’s probably because you’re in power here. You handle the media, you wear the pants and you get shit done,” Y/N said, “you want to go home and be taken care of by a man who knows how to run a household.”

“Exactly!” JJ laughed.

“I want to be taken care of, yes, but I rather be the caretaker at home. I just want someone who will do their own thing with me in the same room, to kiss me before we go to bed and make sure I know they love me.” Y/N said softly, only picturing a life with Spencer as she said it.

The elevator never moved the whole time they were in there, it dinged and opened to Spencer and Morgan waiting. “You guys are that tired you didn’t even make it to your cars?” Morgan teased.

“didn’t even push the button actually,” Y/N chimed in.

“We were having girl time,” Penelope smiled.

“well let’s go home finally,” Morgan and Spencer walked in, pressing the button to the garage and riding down in silence.

Spencer waited for Y/N to exit the elevator last before walking with her to her car. She unlocked it and got in, watching and waving as her new friends pulled out of the garage.

“Ready?” She asked, pulling out as soon as she saw Spencer nod his head with his cute little pressed-lip smile.

They drove home in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet for the first time in weeks. The drive was quick, 30 minutes in the cold, dark, Virginia wilderness.

She parked in their parking lot, yawning as she turned the car off. She grabbed her purse from the back seat and made her way inside with Spencer.

“You going to sleep?” She asked him when they reached her door.

“Probably not, my brain is still too caught up in the cases,” he said honestly.

“Would you like to come in for some tea? To calm down before bed?” She offered as she unlocked her door.

She stepped inside, unlocking the alarm with the 4 digit code. Spencer tried his best not to listen but he failed, he’ll remember the sound of the code forever now.

She flicked on the light and looked around at the mess she left in her living room. “God I forgot it’s a mess in here,” she groaned.

Spencer followed her inside, following her lead and dropping his bag on the floor. He watched as Y/N walked around the house with her hand on her gun, clearing each room to make sure it was still safe.

“Sorry, I live alone, I don’t take any chances,” she said as she came back into the room.

She unlocked her safe and placed her work gun inside, closing it and spinning the lock right after. She let out a deep sigh, stretching her arms out over her head. “It’s so nice to be back in this mess.”

“I can help you unpack this weekend?” Spencer offers.

“If you want to that would be nice, I’ll order us some take out too.”

She picked up the boxes on her couch and moved them to the floor, she cleared off her coffee table and took the lamps out of the box in the corner. She plugged them into the wall and set them on the end tables. Luckily her furniture was in place all she had to do was put out all her little trinkets, books and photos.

Spencer took a seat on her couch, opening a box with mugs and cups, taking them all out of their bubble wrapping and setting them on the coffee table.

Y/N managed to find her kettle, as well as the box of random food she brought from her old cupboard. She set out a variety of teas and digestive biscuits.

Spencer slowly brought the mugs over, placing them in the cupboard of Y/N’s choosing, making sure he left 2 mugs out for them.

“Can I have a green tea?” Spencer asked softly.

“Of course, is it your favourite?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I would like some caffeine but I’m not interested in having a coffee, so this is a good middle ground.”

“I’m not a fan of most hot drinks, that's why I drink ice coffee in the mornings,” Y/N poured the hot water into both cups, leaving room for milk in both mugs just in case. “But, Orange Pekoe is my favourite.”

She placed a tea bag in each mug and handed Spencers to him.

She watched him add a little sugar to his mug before picking it up and returning to the sofa. She followed him shortly after adding milk and sugar to her own, as well as a plate of cookies.

She sighed as she settled in to the couch. “Going to try my hardest to manifest a full weekend off, with no cases, if my spirit guides loved me they will listen.” She jokes.

“You’re spiritual?” He asks.

“A little?” She shrugs, “I’m very into natural medicine, lunar cycles, manifesting and affirmations. Basically what would be considered a witch back in the day.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I had a pretty invasive surgery when I was 17, and because of the body trauma, I developed fibromyalgia. And there really aren’t any answers or explanations for it so I had to turn to something to bring me peace and pain relief.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“It’s okay, eating right, taking my supplements, sleeping and exercise help. Basically, if I take care of myself my body will thank me,” she huffed out a small laugh. “It’s annoying waking up in pain randomly for no reason. I rather wake up sore from taking down an unsub, at least then, the pain is more like a reward, you know?”

Spencer nodded along and smiled softly, “I’m glad you found something that helps you.”

“How about you? I’m guessing you’re a science-only man?”

He laughed, “yes.”

“So do you believe in soulmates?” She asked on a whim.

“In the scientific sense of the word yes. I believe when the big bang happened, all the atoms, electrons and particles that split to make the universe as we know it, still exist in us today. Who’s to say that they don’t pull back to each other, causing a cosmic connection,” Spencer explained softly, his voice low as he explained himself.

Y/N set her drink down, moving in closer to him on the couch. “And how do you know when you’ve met your other half?” She asked. Her voice was just as low.

Spencer set his mug down as well, he placed his warm hand on her cheek, “I think everything would just make sense with them. They’d orbit each other's lives for so long, observing and acknowledging one another and finally one day they’ll connect.”

He leaned in and pressed his perfectly soft lips against hers. She reached her hand around the back of his neck and held him into the kiss. Breathing in deeply through her nose, trying to keep the moment forever.

She pulled back, her breathing was deep as she opened her eyes to look into his. “If you weren’t just explaining the big bang to me, I’d think that was it.”

He laughed at her joke, making both of their hearts soar. She pressed him back against the sofa, adjusting themselves so that she was lying partially on top of him as they cuddled in her crowded living room.

They could hear the sound of the world going on around them. The subtle hum of the subway below them. The distant car horns, someone upstairs was walking around in their apartment.

They were completely quiet then, just cuddled up in their own world without any distractions. The two of them let their hands wander each other as they laid there.

Y/N slowly sat up, peeling herself out of Spencer's grip. “Do you want to spend the night here?”

“I’m just going to run across the hall and get ready for bed, I can lock up when I come back?” He said softly.

“Okay, the button with the person inside the house is the one you hold down on the alarm system after you lock both locks,” she explained before standing up and walking into her bedroom.

She changed into a pair of shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top. She brushed her teeth and hair, throwing it up in a little bun. She took out her contacts, replacing them with her glasses. She washed her face, watered her plants and sat down in her bed finally.

She had her hand on her night side drawer, where she keeps her other gun, just in case the person coming into her house wasn’t Spencer. But then she heard the alarm system arm, both locks clicked, the sound of dishes being placed in the sink and finally the sound of a lamp being clicked off.

Spencer slipper clad feet against the hardwood floor is all she heard as he walked into her room. He took the right side of the bed, wearing his PJ bottoms and a regular t-shirt. It was really the first time she was him so dressed down.

She settled down into the bed, she put her glasses on her side table, plugged in her phones and turned out the light. Spencer spooned into her, cuddling in tight and holding her against his chest.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” She whispered.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

She didn’t fall asleep right away. She basked in the glory that was Spencer Reid’s warm embrace. The feeling of his breath against her neck and his hand on her stomach.

“I love you.” Was the last thing she thinks she heard before she finally fell asleep.

—

She woke up to her phone ringing. She reached over to the nightstand and clicked talk. “SSA Y/L/N,” she said.

“Hey, it’s Penelope.”

“What’s up?”

“Not a case don’t worry, I was just wondering if I could stop by with some iced coffee and breakfast sandwiches to help you unpack?” She asked way too cheerfully for whatever time it was.

“Uh yeah just give us a chance to wake up, can you come by in 30?” She said as she rubbed her eyes, waking up.

“Us?”

“Uh, yeah, Spencer came in for tea and slept on the couch,” she lied.

“No I didn’t,” he groggily chimed in from where he was cuddled into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

“Right okay, so I’ll bring Spencer some breakfast too then,” she said before hanging up.

Y/N placed the phone back on her night table, settling back into Spencer’s embrace.

“Why’d you lie?” He asked.

“Didn’t know if I had your consent to tell her about us yet,” she whispered into his hair as she placed kisses on his head.

“Morgan told me if I didn’t kiss you last night, he’d make me do another round of physical evaluations,” he smiled against her skin. “He wanted to win the bet everyone set to see who would kiss who first.”

“So you just helped the guys win?”

“Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch were betting for me to kiss you first,” he admitted.

“Well, that means Rossi, Garcia and JJ think I’m the one wearing the pants here. Good to know,” she giggled.

“You can wear the pants,” he said as he shifted his weight to look up at her, “as long as I get to take them off later.”

“Well, Dr. Reid, I never thought you’d have it in you,” she was pleasantly surprised.

“When I get comfortable around someone I’m a lot different than I am at work,” he explained, “I heard what you said about needing someone to take care of who still wants to take care of you.”

She blushed, “of course you did.”

He leaned down to kiss her jaw and down her neck. “I think we can work something out,” he whispered.

Her breathing hitched. She couldn’t believe the complete 180º his personality just took, and she wasn’t complaining. All the moisture left her mouth as she just nodded her head in agreement.

“We should get up before she gets here,” he said, kissing her one last time before crawling out of bed.

She laid there staring up at the ceiling, shocked, flabbergasted, enamoured, basically every single word that essentially meant ‘what the fuck just happened.'

She got up, turned off the alarm and waited to use the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and replaced her tank top with a sweater. Spencer slipped across the hall to change into jeans and a button-down shirt, almost like he couldn’t be in anything else around his friends.

Penelope was a hugger, she made sure to give Y/N a good squeeze as she walked into her apartment. “It’s literally the same as Reid’s just backwards,” was the first thing she said.

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been over there yet,” Y/N smiled, taking the coffees out of Penelope’s hands and setting them on the counter.

“JJ and Emily said they’d love to come help later too if you want them to, but it doesn’t look too bad for just the 3 of us,” she said looking around.

“Everything is labelled, my room is all done so you don’t need to worry about it, set up however you see fit, honestly, I’m at a bit of a loss figuring out how to make this place feel more like me with what I have.”

“Alright, well,” she started, looking for the box with the cleaning supplies. “First we clean the kitchen then we put everything where it has to go.”

So that's what they did, they spent a few hours wiping down every surface in the house, disinfecting the floors, the walls, door handles, nobs, everything. Then Penelope got out all her pots and pans, hanging them on the rack above the kitchen island.

Spencer took all the plates out, stacking them neatly in the cabinet. Y/N stacked her cups and glasses, placing them on the shelf with the glass door. They organized her utensils, baking equipment, cookbooks and aprons, asking all about how much she baked.

She offered to make cookies for the team soon, that was a Sunday night with Spencer activity for sure.

In the living space, there weren’t many things. Spencer unpacked the books and placed them on her shelves in library-coded order. While Penelope and Y/N unboxed all her albums and records, cheering and singing along to their favourites.

Y/N had never quite had friends like this before, people who just fit into her life so easily. This was really the best family in the FBI, they knew how to make someone feel completely and wholly loved.

“I need to get some art and stuff,” Y/N said staring at the one empty wall.

“What are you going to do on the fireplace mantle?” Spencer asked, noticing it was still empty.

“Probably some of my spiritual stuff, like my crystals and candles and incense,” she smiled.

“oh, I do that too!” Another thing they had in common.

The day blew past them. They finished unpacking and breaking down all the boxes by 2 pm, finally sitting down altogether, exhausted. Ready to order a few pizzas and chill for the rest of the afternoon.

—

“I really appreciate the help today,” she said as she hugged Penelope. Penelope’s hugs were more comforting than her own mother’s, she thought. Holding her tightly and taking it all in. “I’m so blessed I ran into Spencer and now I get to be your friend.”

“I will cry,” she joked as she hugged y/n tighter. “I’m very blessed to have met you as well.”

She hugged Spencer on her way out as well, forcing herself to leave or else she would have stayed and talked for hours.

As soon as Spencer closed the door behind her, he set the alarm the way Y/N liked it. She smiled at him, seeing him remember how she likes to feel completely safe.

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in. “Would you like to make out with me on my bed?”

“Like horny teenagers?” He giggled, dropping his forehead to rest on hers.

“We never really got the horny teenage experience,” she said softly.

“Are you-?” He cut himself off before he could say the word.

She looked up at him, her eyes big and innocent, she nodded. “technically.”

“Technically?” He repeated softly.

“I don’t want to count my sexual assault as my first,” she whispered. “I’ve never let anyone touch me since.”

His arms wrapped tighter around her, pulling her in closer to be right against his chest. He kissed her cheeks, her chin, forehead, nose, and finally her lips. “I’m going to try my best to never hurt you.”

She kissed him deeper, her hand on the back of his neck, never wanting to part from him. But when she did, she whispered, out of breath. “Promise to only hurt me if I ask you to?”

He saw the way his breath hitched and the way his grip changed. His face went red as he nodded feverishly.

“Are you a virgin Dr. Reid?” She teased.

“No,” he whispered. “I uh had sex in college, just to get it out of the way.”

She broke out of his grasp, taking his hand and pulling him into her bedroom. She closed the door behind them flicking on her fairy lights and lighting a couple of candles. He sat patiently on her bed as he watched her nervously organize things that had no reason to be organized in that moment.

But he let her calm down until she was fully ready, or she changed her mind. Either way, he was going to hang out with her all night long, however she wanted him.

“Close your eyes,” she asked softly. “Lay back against the bed and don’t look at me yet.” She ordered him and he listened.

He pressed his eyes closed and scooted up the bed till his head was on a pillow, laying back with his hands over his eyes. He listened closely to the sound of her taking her clothes off. She tried to steady her breath as she pulled off her sweater and sports bra and replace it with something cute.

She put on her only pair of matching underwear, ones she got on sale at some department store that she only wore for herself so far. She crawled up the bed, sitting directly on Spencer's hips.

She took his hands off his eyes, noticing they were still closed, she smiled. She placed his hands on her bare hips. “Open them.”

He opened his eyes to the most stunning image he’s ever seen in his life. Blinking a few times as his mind burned the image into the back of his eyelids for the rest of time. “Fuck,” he whispered.

She smiled to herself, “thought you’d like it.”

She leaned down, arching her back and kissed his neck. His hands travelled from her thighs to her perched ass as she kissed up his jaw to his ear. He was nothing but breathy moans and thank you’s as she explored him.

She ground herself down on his growing erection, smirking against his skin. She sat back on his hips, wiggling as she undid each of his shirt buttons, way too slow.

She took her time, pulling the front of his shirt out of his jeans and finally spreading the shirt open. Her hands ran over his chest before she used her nails to scrape her way down to his jean buttons.

He reached for her hands then. Stopping her and looking up into her eyes. “Before we start, I need to know what will trigger you,” he said softly.

“Oh,” her face dropped a little, she was a little overwhelmed with the fact he was asking, but she knew he truly cared. “I can’t do blowjobs yet, I will probably have a panic attack.”

“I can live without them,” he smirked, “look at everything else you do, fuck you’re amazing.” His hands roamed her skin the whole time.

She tucked her ankles under his knees and in one swift moment flipped them from laying on his side of the bed to the middle. He was on top of her now, absolutely amazed that she could do that.

“Told you I was combat trained,” she giggled.

Spencer sat up on the bed, ripping his shirt off and pushing himself out of both his jeans and underwear at the same time. Her mouth couldn’t help but fall open and the sight of his perfect cock bouncing free.

He sat back, trying to tug his jeans off of his ankles when he fell back and landed on the hardwood floor, “Spencer!” She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her.

He huffed, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she quickly bit her lip to try and stop laughing.

“When you said horny teenager phase I didn’t think you meant the awkward part too,” he smiled, standing completely naked in front of her.

“Get back here,” she giggled.

He got right back on top of her, between her legs that she wrapped immediately around him. Locking him in place. “How would you like it?” He asked.

“Well hypothetically,” she began with a smirk, “I think I would like to ride you, sitting up, tits in your face, the whole shebang.”

He forgot how to breathe, the most beautiful girl in the world just laid out how she wants to be fucked like it was a science experiment.

He was in love with her.

She flipped him again, “you have to stop doing that!” He gasped.

She laughed as she sat up, getting off him enough so he could sit up against the headboard. She shimmied out of her underwear before sitting down on him again, their most intimate parts just resting close to one another. She shivered at the feel of his hot skin against hers. She’d never been this close to another human before.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked, suddenly shy.

“If you want one yeah but I have an IUD in case I get,” she stopped herself, “you know, in the field.”

“Yeah that's smart,” he was so nervous.

She leaned in and kissed him. Holding his cheeks in her hands as his hands reached behind her back to undo her bra. She opened her mouth to let him explore with his tongue as she felt the straps of her bra slip down her shoulders.

She let go of his face one hand at a time and peeled the bra from her skin. Flinging it across the room without looking and pressing her breasts against his chest.

She gets on her knees without breaking the kiss, reaching between them she grips the base of his cock. His breath hitches in his throat and she can feel his pulse in his shaft.

She drags the head through her folds, she breaks the kiss to breathe in his ear, “you know, you’re just a bit bigger than what I'm used to.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She lines him up with her and slowly pushes down on him, pulling up and back down again, each time getting his cock a little wetter on her juices so he can slip in easier. “I think it was called the emerald stud, he’s in a box over there,” she whispers in his ear as she bottoms out.

She sits back, her arms around his shoulders, she rocks on his cock. His eyes slip shut as he dips his head back against her crossed wrists. “Fuck,” he breathes.

She shifts again, bouncing more on him when she’s used to his size. His hands are on her ass again, helping her bounce as he moved to kiss her neck and collarbones.

He’s all noises, hot breath against her chest and sloppy kisses. She reaches between them to rub her clit before he pushes her hand out of the way to rub her himself. Feeling how swollen she is, he squeezes her clit lightly.

She moans out a high pitches squeak that she had no idea she could make, covering her mouth as she bounced a little harder on his cock. “Fuck Spencer,” she whispered into his hair.

He kissed her ear again, “you want me to cum in you?” He asks.

“God yeah, fill me up,” she replies without thinking, tossing her head back and grinding down ever so provocatively on him.

She presses her front against him more, causing the friction from his index finger on her clit to get more intense as she bucks her hips faster and faster against him.

He’s gone. Absolutely destroyed. He cants even worn her that he’s about to cum he just tips his head back and fucks up into her, gripping her ass so tight that he knows she’s going to have 5 deep, finger-shaped, purple bruises around each ass cheek.

Her orgasm rips through her, losing balance with her shaking thighs she gasps for air, falling into him with her face in the crook of his neck. She is breathing so hard as she comes down, she drools on his neck a little.

He pulls his hand out from between them, flicking her clit on last time. Sending a tremor through her body. She twitches against him, tensing up and tightening around the cock still inside her.

He moans once more, and she feels the tiniest trickle of cum slip out of her as he lifts her off him.

They don’t talk. They just hold onto one another, breathing and rubbing their hands over each other's skin.

“Wow,” Spencer finally says.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“Hypothetically,” he says with a smile, “I think the outcome we reached was the intended goal?” Only Spencer Reid would make a joke like that after sex.

She laughed and kissed his neck, “very successful, I would be willing to switch techniques next time to see if we can repeat this outcome.”

“Sounds like a date.”

chapter 3

They worked together perfectly. Every morning he’d head across the hall to his own apartment to get ready, coming back to a slice of toast and coffee in his travel mug ready to go.

She looked gorgeous every morning. She put time and effort into what she wore to work, just to chase psychopaths all day. He was in love with her, its the only thing he knew for sure when he looked at her. He was never going to recover from falling for her.

He’d hold all her things while she sets the alarm and locks the door. She would drive them to work each morning and even then he’d carry all her things up to the office.

Everyone noticed how Spencer changed around Y/N, he was always smiling, he was basically glowing from being in love, and having sex. Derek teased him constantly, but in all honesty, he was really proud of his little bro.

They had a slow day, which meant all the ladies filed into Penny’s office to shoot the shit when they were really supposed to be writing reports.

“So?” Penelope looked at Y/N with an arched eyebrow. “How is he?”

She shook her head and giggled to herself. “Really good.”

“Really?” Emily pried?

“He has this other personality that comes out when we, you know,” she was afraid to say fuck inside the walls of Penelope’s office. “I’m addicted, I was so afraid to have sex and now I’m like having an internal battle of is it really worth getting caught in the filing room for a quicky!”

They all burst into laughter, sharing stories of all the times each of them has fucked at work, “you won't get caught if you let us help you?” JJ said with a smirk.

“You’re kidding?” Y/N tilted her head, not believing her.

“I can ask Morgan and the team to lunch while you stay here, text Spencer saying to stay back to get work done but he can meet you in here.” Penelope planned the whole thing.

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think I’m comfortable enough for that yet.” She was being completely honest.

“We need a code word for when you choose to use this plan,” Emily said. “Like you group text us the word ‘switch’ and we will keep everyone busy for you and Spence.”

“Why do you want me to fuck him here so bad?”

They all laughed, “because we’re not used to Spence getting this kind of love!” JJ said. “Emily and Penelope covered for me literally when me and Will made Henry.”

“having a hand in making my godson gave me a god complex,” Penelope joked.

They got along fabulously, laughing and working all afternoon before the boys came to get them.

“We got something.”

Y/N walked out first joining Spencer in the hall with a smile, standing close enough to him as they walked that their knuckles rubbed together. She sat beside him in the briefing room, opening the case file in front of her and flipping through the info.

“Wow,” she whispered to herself. “I know a few of the 13 women, I put them in the missing system.”

Spencer rubs his hand over her back softly, looking at the pages she’s flipping through.

Garcia wasn’t cheery anymore, she grabbed the remote for the tv and started her rundown.

“Over the last 6 days, police in Winnemucca Nevada have dug up 13 bodies of women who have gone missing in the last 10 years. He seems to kill sporadically without patterns. M.E has confirmed all 13 women, and de-comp shows they were all killed within 24 hours of going missing.”

“Cause?” Prentiss asked.

“All 13 were strangled with plastic shopping bags, that were left wrapped around their faces in the graves. They were all sexually assaulted antemortem, but not all of them died from asphyxiation. He also stabbed 9 of the 13 victims, 5 of which died from massive blood loss. But the real kicker was that all 13 of them had their wombs removed.” Penelope finished.

“Do we know if any of them were pregnant?” Y/N asked.

“Yes,” she said flipping through slides, “victim number 13, Traci Purcell was 17 and according to her autopsy, her HCG levels indicated she would have been 3 weeks along when she was murdered.”

“Are they able to see if the others were pregnant?” Hotch asked.

“They’re working on it, best bet will be for me to pull medical records and to ask the family.”

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch nodded towards the door.

Slowly but surely they all filed into the plane, Y/N took a window seat, quickly burying her head in the file, looking at each and every victim carefully.

“Spence, would you help me place the geographical profile?” Y/N asked him softly as he got comfortable in the seat across from her.

“Once we take off we can spread out the map,” he smiled softly back at her. Even when dealing with the hard cases they managed to get caught up in each other's eyes.

“Okay love birds, can I sit here too or will I get more than air sickness?” Morgan said, pretending to feel sick as he sat beside Y/N.

She smacked his arm lightly.

“Speaking of,” Spencer said, stopping to swallow nervously. “Hotch I’m going to need 2 of the workplace fraternization forms when we get back.”

Everyone on the plane cheered at him, he got 3 high-fives and all the congratulations in the world. Y/N immediately felt her face warm up.

“Don’t worry, Garcia filed them for you that night she helped you unpack,” Hotch smiled into his paperwork.

“How did she even know?” Y/N’s voice went up 3 octaves as she panicked.

“At least we know when pretty boy lost his V card now,” Morgan smirked.

“No, just me.” Y/N corrected him. To which Spencer was given yet another high five.

Just then Spencer was handed $20 from Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan. Y/N raised an eyebrow, “why?”

“I bet them $20, years ago, that I am in fact not a virgin and they said they would and I quote ‘only pay me if a woman who has fucked me confirms it.’ So who’s going to tell Gideon to pay up?” He explains.

The team carried on like normal after all the excitement died down. Having side conversations, working on the case, sleeping. The trip from Quantico to Winnemucca was fairly quick.

Y/N sat with Spencer at the table, spreading out the map and watching him place where all 13 victims disappeared from as well as where they were found. They were spread over 3 subdivisions, all 35 miles at least away from the burial sites.

“The park,” Spencer said softly.

“Is that the middle ground?”

“Yeah there’s something significant with the park,” Spencer confirms.

—

Spencer and Y/N went to the M.E together, all 13 women were labelled and displayed under white sheets. They took their time looking over each skeleton and the bodies.

“Clean cuts on the stomach, I wonder why he didn’t stab her?” Spencer said as he looked at the 13th victim.

“She might have cooperated better, or and I hate to say it but, seeing as she was Asian there is a high chance she didn’t bear resemblance to the source of the unsubs rage meaning she got to go out a little easier,” Y/N suggested with a disgusted look on her face.

“The 5 who died of blood loss were all white, brown hair, green eyes. 3 were 26, 2 were 29. They might be exactly his type,” Spencer confirmed the theory.

“They were also murdered,” she flipped her notebook open to show a chart with 5 columns. “June, February, June, November, November. Could also mean something to him.”

“What is that?” Spencer asks.

“It’s a chart that has the name, their age, the missing date and last scene location, the estimated date of death, and the cause. So that I can easily refer to the most important info when making a connection,” She explained. “My brain works better if I can see everything, so I also have my own little hand-drawn map of the area on his page as well as all my ideas in case I don’t get a turn to speak.”

“That’s really smart,” he smiled.

“So June, November and February might be significant to him.”

“Let’s go tell Hotch.”

Spencer drove for once, Y/N sat in the passenger seat in the SUV, doodling into her notebook.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Spencer asked.

“I wrote down the first letter of each month,” she explained, showing him the notebook. “And I circled each of the 3 months that repeat, February, June and November.”

“Okay?” He followed along.

“From February to November it’s 10 months or 40 weeks which is the typical length of a pregnancy,” She explained further. “This whole thing is clearly about pregnancy seeing as he is taking wombs. It’s clearly not a woman seeking revenge because of the sexual assault so it has something to do with him seeking revenge for a pregnancy in his life.”

“Could even be his own, like he’s punishing women who look like his mother because he wishes he was never born,” Spencer ponders.

They pulled into the police station, she got out and walked in all with her head still in the notebook. “Find anything?” Hotch asked.

“Of course she did,” Spencer bragged about her.

—

They all took a break, going back to their hotels to get some rest. All agreeing that since the media hasn’t released anything about this case yet the killed has no idea. They take it in faith that he will stick to his 2 to 4 month waiting period.

They all returned the next morning, refreshed and ready to resume their findings. JJ and Emily spent most of the morning interviewing families of the victims, specifically asking if they knew the vic was pregnant as well as what significance the park played in or around their pregnancies.

Y/N sat in silence with a coffee, flipping through her notebook. Hotch and Morgan were running over ideas they all had with Garcia on the phone.

“Hey, Spence?” Y/N called boy wonder over from the map he had been staring at.

“Yes, my love?” He says softly.

“I think I have an idea, can you go over it with me before we tell the team?” She asked.

“Of course,” he took a seat beside her.

“Why do I have an IUD?” She asks him in a whisper.

“In case you get raped in the field,” he whispered back.

“More specifically.”

“So you don’t get pregnant as a result of a rape in the field.”

“The sexual assaults in his mind, are him getting these victims pregnant. But they’re already pregnant when he picks them right?” She explains, “So that when he removes the uterus postmortem it's his way of aborting the child.”

“So this is all about abortion?” Spencer confirms.

“More specifically to do with how you said he regrets being born,” she corrects.

“Do you think he’s the product of a failed abortion?”

She nodded her head, “yeah and that by taking the whole uterus, and the strangling, and the stabbing, both mother and baby are for sure dead.”

“Hotch!” Spencer called across the room. “Y/N figured it out.”

They waited for JJ and Prentiss to finish an interview before they all piled into an office to discuss Y/N’s idea.

“Is there even any way to know if someone is the product of a failed abortion?” Prentiss asked after Spencer and Y/N took turns explaining how they came to their conclusion.

“Probably the best way would be to search for babies born with the common disabilities that occur in babies of failed abortions, but make sure they were born in November,” Y/N explained.

“Why November?” Penelope asked over the phone.

Y/N took a whiteout marker and started writing on the whiteboard.

“The 5 victims that died from loss of blood were all exactly the same, they were murdered in June, February, June. November and November.” She explained.

Writing “J F M A M J J A S O N D” on the whiteboard. Circling February, June and November.

“February, conception. 10 months later, or 40 weeks, is November. June is 4 months along meaning that would be when the mother either had the abortion, be it medical or homemade,” Y/N explained.

“Last year alone 146 of the 164,045 abortions resulted as a failure. When this happens most women choose to have the second procedure, or a D and C. Or they can carry the baby the rest of the way to term,” Spencer explained. “Children brought to term from a first-trimester medical abortion failure often have limb or digit abnormalities while infants born from non-medical approved abortions are more likely to have congenital problems.”

“However someone without a limb would not be able to do what our unsub is capable of. Digging graves, abducting, dragging dead bodies, it’s a lot of effort,” JJ added.

“Exactly, which is why I think our unsub probably has a mental disability.”

“Non-medical abortions, most often referred to as the poor person’s method, is taking a non-FDA approved ulcer treatment drug called Misoprostol, which is causing an epidemic of birth defects all along South America and parts of Asia,” Spencer added. “It induces contractions, causing women to deliver babies far too early to survive outside of the womb. If taken after the first trimester, and unsuccessful it can cut off oxygen to the brain long enough to permanently damage development in the frontal lobe.”

“Did the families mention anything about the park?” Y/N asked Prentiss and JJ.

“So far 4 of the victim's husbands say their wives announced they were pregnant on park benches, near the children swinging. They said it was the typical, ‘that could be us one day, that day came sooner than you thought’ moments from movies.” JJ confirmed.

“Let’s deliver the profile,” Hotch announced, following them all into the precinct.

—

They spent the next few hours looking for anyone with birth defects or mental disabilities that could be a potential suspect. Asking the other officers as well as anyone around the park about the type of man they were looking for.

Morgan and JJ patrolled the park while Rossi and Prentiss asked around on the street.

“Lynette Hayward,” Y/N whispered to herself, standing up and rushing through all the papers on the table in front of her.

“She was the only one who wasn’t pregnant, she was the only one who wasn’t reported missing, she was the oldest and in her youth, she had brown hair and green eyes. What if she’s his mother?” Y/N expressed to Spencer and Hotch who were watching her scramble around.

She pulled her phone out and called Garcia, “what’s cooking good lookin’?” Penelope answered.

“Can you help unscramble my egg brain?” She joked right back.

“Sure thing, whatcha got?”

“Lynette Hayward, does she have children, was she ever pregnant, or put someone up for adoption?”

“Let me check into it and I will call you right back!” Garcia said, hanging up and going right to work.

“Is there anyone here who knew Lynette Hayward about 30 years ago? She would have been 26 to 29, my height, brown hair, and green eyes?” Y/N announced to the whole Police Department.

“I did,” an officer said, standing up from the desk on the other side of the room.

She waved him over, pulling out a chair and asking him to sit.

“Was Lynette ever pregnant?” Y/N asked.

He thought for a moment, licking his lips and harkening all the way back to his 20’s. “There was a summer that no one saw her."

"When was this?" Spencer asked.

"From June to November, not a single person saw her. We thought maybe she was doing summer classes somewhere,” he explained.

“Were there any children dropped off at a fire hall or a hospital that November?” Spencer asked.

“There was a baby left in the park, poor little guy had been left out there in the cold,” he said.

Hotch, Spencer and Y/N all took a deep breath and looked at each other. “That’s him.”

Garcia called back then, “I found 1 baby left abandoned in the park in November of 1979, he was diagnosed with a cleft lip and palate, seizures, and later on he was diagnosed with diabetes, Crohn’s disease and Asperger's syndrome.”

“Name and address?” Spencer asked.

“That's the difficult part, he was born, operated on and handed over to the state and cared for by a foster family that named him Jake Alexander Ingrid. At the age of 6, he was adopted by them fully. When he was 12 he dropped out of the public school system due to bullying that left him in the hospital with a broken arm. After that, his trail goes cold.”

“How cold?” Y/N asked.

“If I didn't know better I'd say he was the one missing not Lynette,” Garcia confirmed.

“Does anyone live in Lynette’s house?” Hotch asked.

The sound of Garcia’s typing was all they heard over the phone, “her bills are being paid on time, someone is in her trailer. I’ve sent the address to your phones.”

“Let’s go.”

Hotch kicked the trailer door in, “FBI!”

He was asleep, startled awake in the bed that used to belong to his birth mother. He cried, overwhelmed with the 3 guns pointed in his face. Hotch sighed, cuffing him and reading him his rights.

“Why are the worst ones always the sadist?” Y/N asked Spencer as they watched forensics tore apart the trailer.

“Sad in what context?”

“His whole life was so fucked up, it sucks. All those women crossed paths with him and he took his fucked up life and ended theirs, as well as their babies,” Y/N couldn’t stop shaking her head as she spoke, disgusted with the whole situation.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, “if we spend all our time wondering why the world is like this we won't have enough time to bring justice to the victims.”

“which is the best outcome we can ask for,” Y/N agreed.

“Dr, Reid, agent Y/L/N?” An officer interrupted their hug and watched them awkwardly pull away from each other quickly.

“Yes?” Spencer answered.

“We found the wombs.”

The worst fucking sentence she had ever heard. “I can’t look at that.” She said, walking away to join JJ and Prentiss standing by the SUV.

“Good job kid,” Morgan said, wrapping his arm around her. “You’re almost as smart as boy wonder over there.”

“Just call me Mrs, boy wonder then,” she joked.

“Don’t tempt him!” Prentiss joked.

Y/N turned back to see Spencer walking out of the trailer, a shade of green spreading across his skin. “Excuse me,” she said walking towards the ambulance that was on standby.

“Dr. Reid looks like he might be sick,” she said, taking an EMT with her towards him.

Sure enough, Spencer leaned over the bushes and hurled before passing out into the EMT’s arms. Morgan and Hotch came running over to him, helping get him into an ambulance.

“What happened?” Morgan asked.

“He took a look at the recovered womb’s the forensic team found,” Y/N explained.

“That would do it,” Hotch agreed.

Y/N rubbed her hand along Spencer’s shoulder, “good catch,” the EMT complimented her as he took Spencer's vitals.

“I know him well.”

“Too well,” Morgan agreed. “You’d think you were cut from the same cloth.”

“No,” she said softly, gripping Spencer’s hand in her own as he started to stir a little. “We’re cosmically connected, made from the same space rock that split during the big bang.”

“I love you,” he whispered, awake the whole time she was speaking.

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased him, “I know, save your strength, you’re still all pasty white.”

“Gross,” Morgan smiled, turning away from the ambulance

chapter 4

Prentiss convinced Y/N and Spencer to take the weekend off in Nevada to go visit their parents. They agreed that it would be nice, seeing as neither of them thought to tell their moms that they met again let alone that they were together.

Y/N walked into the Nursing home first, looking for her mom in her office as Spencer walked in quickly to go find his mother.

“Hey mom,” Y/N smiled as she knocked on her mother's office door.

“Y/N!” She yelled, shocked to see her eldest baby standing in front of her for the first time since last Christmas. “What are you doing here?”

“Remember how I moved?” She started there.

“Yes?”

“Well, my new neighbour ended up being Spencer Reid, and he introduced me to the BAU and I helped them with a case, so they hired me, and now I work for them and we just finished a case in Winnemucca and me and Spencer are dating. He’s here too and we’re taking the weekend off to tell you and Diana,” she had never rambled so fast to her mother before in her life.

“Holy shit?” Her mother was shocked, “this all happened in the last 3 weeks? Is that why you’ve been too busy to text me?”

“I’ve been on 5 cases in the last 3 weeks, I was swamped,” she smiled, her eyes welling with tears.

Her mom walked over to her and wrapped her up in her arms, holding her close. “My baby, this is everything you wanted why are you crying?”

“I haven’t taken a moment to actually understand that this is all real,” she whispered.

Her mother pulled back, looking in her eyes with a stern look. “Is he good to you?”

She laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “He’s wonderful.”

“Diana is in the game room, let’s go see them,” she tucked her arm under Y/N’s and the two of them walked arm in arm towards the game room.

Diana stood up as she saw them walk in, “Debbie’s daughter?” She asked.

Spencer nodded with a large smile on his face. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, my partner.”

“I know you,” Diana said softly, reaching out to pull her into a hug. “You would read to me on Thursdays after Spencer left for CalTech.”

“Really?” Spencer asked.

“I knew you were here as often as you could be, and I felt bad she didn’t have any other children to come see her,” Y/N explained. “I know if my mom was here and my brother couldn’t visit I’d fill in.”

“It was lovely, I still have the book you gave me before you left for the academy,” Diana’s smile was as big and bright as Spencer’s.

They all sat together, sharing stories with each other. It seemed like their mothers enjoyed sharing embarrassing kid stories to make Spencer and Y/N blush back and forth.

Before they knew it, it was 3 pm and visiting hours were coming to an end and Debbie’s shift was about to end as well. “Where are you both staying?” She asked.

“At a hotel downtown,” Y/N explained.

“Nonsense, stay with me and your father!” Debbie insisted.

Y/N shook her head, “we can come to visit for dinner tomorrow, but we need some space.”

“You know how it feels to be in love especially this young Deb, I’m sure you understand,” Diana patted her on the shoulder.

“Go on, have fun. But tomorrow dinner starts at 6:15, Levi and Lizzie also home this weekend,” Debbie smiled, hugging both Spencer and Y/N before Diana.

“Would Diana be able to come to dinner at our place?” Y/N asked.

“I think I can pull some strings,” Debbie agreed, “have a good night tonight guys.”

“We will,” Spencer smiled, taking Y/N’s hand and walking with her to the parking lot.

They both sighed as they sat in their rental car. “That went well,” Y/N said softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you visited my mom?” Spencer asked, holding her hand again.

“I was going to, there’s so much I want to tell you but we haven’t had enough personal time to get through it all, every time we talk lately it’s about murder,” she replied.

“Let's go get a table at a nice restaurant and tell each other everything.”

“I have something to do first, can I drop you off at the hotel and meet you there?” She asked.

“absolutely.”

-—

She drove to her parent's place as fast as she could, they were all just sitting down in the living room when she walked in the door. “Hi sorry I can’t stay I just want to grab a dress from my closet.”

She kicked her shoes off and ran up the stairs to her bedroom just like she would have after school. Her room hadn’t changed much. Her desk was still in the corner, her bed was made, and her mom now used it for storage. There were boxes, lamps, pillows and a million folded blankets all resting on her bed and scattered along the floor.

She shuffled some things out of the way of her closet door and quickly looked through all the bagged dresses she had left here. Minoring in political science and volunteering with government organizations in college meant she had a dress for every occasion, times the 4 years she was there.

“Cocktail, dinner, black tie, prom, homecoming,” she flicked through them all, “funeral,” she said as she stopped. “Why is this here?”

She pulled out a black dress she wore to a democratic representatives fundraiser, it was an off-the-shoulder, 3/4 length sleeve, plunging neckline, skin-tight dress with a slit to show some leg. It was perfect.

She placed it on the edge of her bed and dug out the black heels that she originally bought to go with the dress. She found a strapless bra in her dresser, and a cute pair of underwear buried at the back of her drawer.

She closed her door and quickly changed, walking across the hall in her heels to fluff her hair in the mirror and figure out how the fuck she was going to do her makeup here.

Just then her brother's wife came walking up the stairs, “Y/N?” She knocked on the bathroom door before coming in.

“Hey Lizzie,” she smiled. “Do I look okay?” She asked.

Lizzie looked her up and down with a shocked look on her face, “yeah what’s the occasion? I didn’t even know you were home?”

“It’s a long story, my boyfriend and I were here on a case and we’re staying for the weekend, you get to meet him tomorrow!” She filled her in as she searched the bathroom drawers for makeup.

“What do you need?” She asked.

“Do you have your makeup kit here? We’re like the same shade right?”

Before she knew it, Lizzie was making her sit on the edge of the tub while she did Y/N’s makeup for her. “Remember when you did my prom makeup?” Lizzie asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “You and Levi looked so good together that night.”

“Not as good as you look right now, he’s going to eat you alive,” she hyped Y/N up.

“You think so?” Y/N asked, standing up to take a look in the mirror.

“Absolutely!!!”

She took a deep breath and shook the nerves out, “okay I have to go,” she said running back to her room for her phones, wallet and badge.

“Go get him, SSA Y/L/N,” Lizzie smiled as she watched y/n steadily run down the stairs in heels, clicking on the hardwood as she ran.

“Wait!” Her dad yelled from the table, “don’t I get to see you before you leave?”

She ran into the table room, quickly hugging her father at the head of the table and kissing him on his bald head. “I’m late for my date, I love you, I’ll be home tomorrow,” she said running back towards the front door and to her car.

She was like a mad chicken running around with her head cut off. She took a breather in the car before starting the engine and making her way back downtown.

--

She left her car out front with the valet, saying she would be back in a minute. She dug her phone out of her wallet and called Spencer. “I’m in the lobby.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She waited by the elevator, she pulled her boobs up into her bra and wiggled the wire till they looked okay, then she straightened her dress out. She never felt this nervous when she wore this dress the last time, she’s never felt this nervous period, actually.

Spencer Reid did something to her that she couldn’t quite describe. But if she had to, she’d say he makes her feel alive.

The elevator dinged and Spencer walked out in one of his best suits. He was looking down at his button as he stepped out not seeing her at first.

She smiled at him, waiting for him to look up. When he did his eyes grew three times their normal size and his mouth dropped. He stopped right in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders and lightly running his hands down her arms. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Could say the same thing about you Dr. Reid,” Y/N teased as she pulled on his tie.

She pulled him down by his tie and pressed her lips against his. Never before had either of them been a big fan of PDA, but this was an exception.

She pulled back from him and tucked his tie back into his jacket. Smoothing out his sleeves before taking a step back and handing him the keys. “Lead the way doctor.”

He extended his arm to which she wrapped her arm around. He walked her to the front of the lobby, watching as the bellhop held the door for them.

Their car was still there, waiting with the valet who opened the door when he saw her return. She sat on the passenger side, fixing the slit of her dress to not show too much just yet.

Spencer joined her, sitting in the driver's seat he started the car and drove off.

He reached his hand over to place it on her thigh, where it belonged. He gripped her leg and felt down to where her holster was. She saw his eyebrow raise as he looked down, moving the side of her dress to see her gun strapped to her leg.

“Gonna shoot me if I’m not on my best behaviour tonight, agent?” He laughed.

“Nevada is a concealed carry state, and I don’t trust anyone,” she said. “Plus I look like this tonight, do you know what the crime rate is in Los Vegas-? Don’t answer that, of course, you do,” she teased him.

“It’s pretty hot,” he complimented her.

“What? The gun or my attitude?”

“The fact that you don’t take shit from anyone, you’re a badass and I never have to worry about you.”

“What if I want you to worry?”

“I’m always going to worry, I just mean you’re not a damsel in distress. I can go into every situation knowing you’re smarter on your feet than anyone on the team, and as long as you’re there we’re coming out alive,” he explained better.

“That’s the best compliment,” she felt bashful all of a sudden. She put her hand on his and squeezed it. “I love you, Spencer,” she finally told him.

“I love you too,” he smiled.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t said it back yet.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant they were going to, returning his focus fully to driving. He pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park.

“I knew you’d say it when you were ready, I’m in no rush to hear it,” he leaned over the centre console and kissed her on the lips.

He got out of the car and walked around to open her door, helping her out before extending an arm out for her once more.

He made a reservation while he was alone at the hotel, getting a table in the back away from everyone else. It was a round table with a booth stretching all the way around the table. The back of the chair tall enough to enclose them in their own little world for the time being.

They were at a cute little stake house, one where you got to pick the exact piece of meat you wanted and they did it however you asked. They ordered drinks and enough bread to make the waiter look at them differently.

“Tell me the most random fact about you,” Y/N asked as soon as the waiter left to tell the kitchen their order.

“When my mom’s schizophrenia started getting bad, she thought that the government used dryers to take our socks for DNA and clone us, so whenever one of my socks went missing she freaked out. After that, I started wearing mismatched socks all the time so that that way she would never notice which of the pairs were missing since I never wore them that way anyway.”

She smiled the whole time he talked, absolutely in love with him. He was her everything. “So that’s why I’ve got so many random socks around my house.”

“It’s worse at my apartment,” he smiled again. “Your turn.”

“The first time I ever rode a bike without training wheels was because I stole my neighbour's bike and took off with it down the road,” she laughed.

“Why?”

“I think my mom said I couldn’t take my own training wheels off yet, so I took matters into my own hands.”

“See?” He shook his head lightly. “Badass.”

“When was the last time you were in Vegas?” She asked.

“Earlier this year when we reopened the Riley Jenkins case,” he said softly.

“oh, my mom was telling me about that one! Your mom went off her meds to help remember if your dad was involved right?” Y/N recalled.

He nodded, “do you know what really happened?”

“I have the gist, Lou killed Gary in revenge for Riley.”

“That's not all of it,” he said lightly. “Gary was watching me, and my mom told Lou that the way he looked at me, he might have been the one who hurt Riley. And then she witnessed Lou kill Gary.”

“Holy shit Spence, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Did you know Gary was my neighbour?” ,

“No?”

“Yeah we were 4, my brother was 2 and my mom was pregnant again, and Gary kept taking photos of my brother through the fence. My dad threatened to kill him a few times and then we finally moved across town,” she explained.

“How is it that our lives were so intertwined, and yet it took 20 years for us to actually connect again?” He asked.

“The same thing happened to my parents.”

“What’s their story?” He asked.

She moved around the table to sit closer to him, taking his hand in hers. “My dad is 8 years older than my mom, they met when she was 17 and he was 26 and they became good friends like he was her older brother. They realized years later that my dad delivered newspapers to the town my mom lived in, and he saw her basically grow up playing in the yard. Then his best friend always invited him to his cabin and when he finally went, the lot across from them was my mom's family cabin. They were always so close but never knew each other till they were meant to. And now they’ve been happily married for 30 years.”

“There's an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer explained.

“It took 500 years of coincidences to bring us together,” she said softly. “Which kinda makes the 20 years of admiring you from afar not seem so long.”

“From here on out let’s make every moment count then,” Spencer suggested, “we’ve been barely dating for 3 weeks I’m not going to ask you to marry me right this instant, but I do intend to spend the rest of my life with you in whatever capacity I can. Because I think you’re it for me.”

She could bask in the feeling of her heart fluttering like this for the rest of her life, it was like butterflies but completely calm. True happiness at its finest.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said softly, “in 1 year we come back here, and if we feel the exact same way as we do right now, you can propose to me.”

He put his pinky out for her, she wrapped hers around his, before kissing each other's knuckles. “Promise.” Spencer and Y/N said at the same time.

—

Back in the hotel room, she didn’t even bat an eyelash before slamming Spencer against the door. She slid her thigh between both his legs and boxed him in.

She undid the single button of his suit jacket, shushing Spencer. She pushed it off his arms, knocking it to the floor. She loosened his tie, tossing it to the side, still around his neck, while she unbuttoned his shirt.

He was completely silent and still. She was in control.

She tossed his shirt to the ground next. Holding onto his tie as she pulled him down into a heated kiss.

“Take my dress off,” she breathed into his mouth, feeling his hands reach around her back for the zipper.

He pushed the sleeves down her arms, watching the dress gather at her ankles before she stepped out and kicked the fabric out of the way. She tugged him by his tie towards the bed.

“Strip,” she instructed him. “Not the tie.”

“Underwear too?” He asked as she dug through his suitcase.

“yes.”

She returned with 2 more ties. Looking at him, butt naked on the bed. She stepped out of her underwear and the uncomfortable strapless bra. She set her gun in the hotel safe with her badge and returned to the bed.

“Would you be willing to try something?” She asked.

“anything,” he said, overly eager.

“Would you tie my hands to the bedpost and blindfold me and just do whatever you want?”

“Hold on,” he got off the bed and opened his go-bag side pocket. “I have a blindfold for the plane.”

“So you want to?”

Actions speak louder than words, he would always say.

He dimmed the lights down, got on the bed and roughly picked her up laying her back against the pillows. He tied her left hand first, and then her right hand. He took a hair elastic off the bedside table and put her hair back as best he could before he rested the blindfold against her forehead.

He hovered over her. “Anything I want?” Spencer confirmed.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Ground rules?”

“Yellow for slow down, red for stop?” She shrugged.

“You really mean anything?”

“I trust you, Spencer Reid, make me feel good,” she smiled.

He kissed her on the nose before coving her eyes with the blindfold.

She had always wanted to try this, it was a kink she had always been determined to try. She took a deep breath and tried her best to listen to him as he moved to sit between her spread legs.

He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips before following the curve to her waist. He gripped her waist tightly and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, breathing her in as he kissed.

She wasn’t embarrassed about her tummy, for the first time in her life she loved her body. She felt him kiss all over her chest, dragging his bottom lip along her skin. He licked a stripe between her breasts, dropping his chin to her chest then to blow lightly over the wet trail.

She felt her nipples harden, she could physically hear the smirk that spread across his face.

He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, cupping her breasts with his hands as he groped her lightly. She squirmed, trying her best to grind her hips against his.

He pushed her hips against the bed, “be patient.”

He disappeared then. She felt his weight shift and get off the bed. She let out a deep breath, knowing she told him he could do anything and that included punishing her. She literally asked for it.

“I picked something up after you dropped me off,” she heard him say from the other side of the room.

He walked around for a minute, taking something out of a hard plastic container. He struggled with ripping it, she heard papers fall the floor and something hard hit the floor. “Shit.”

She heard him walk towards the bathroom, she crossed her ankles and just waited.

He came back to the bed, moving her legs apart like they were when he left. “stay.”

He crawled between her legs once more, his hand brushed her thigh and it was cold and wet like he washed his hands.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly. She nodded her head feverishly.

She heard a small buzzing, an all too failure sound. The first place she feels the vibration is in her belly button. Causing her to let out a shocked little giggle.

“Shhh,” he smiled.

He dragged the little bullet vibrator down her stomach, over her pelvis and finally, finally, against her clit. She let out a moan that sounded more like a sigh of relief.

All she wanted was for someone else to control her pleasure, surprise her, set the rhythm, the speed, everything. She spent so long pleasuring herself, she was so ready to sit back and just take it.

Spencer felt the same. He took his time, feeling every inch of her skin, kissing every single place he wanted to. He spent so much time just looking. Finding freckles and scars and kissing them. He was mesmerized by the fact she was real, that a beautiful woman would lay down in front of him, spread open like this and just let him explore. It felt like the best wet dream his brain could ever conjure.

She could feel him getting closer to her. His weight shifted and she felt his breath on her leg. She took a deep breath, sucking in her stomach in the anticipation of feeling a tongue on her for the first time ever.

He turned off the vibrator. Setting it to the side as he looped his arms around her thighs. Just admiring the view. Just then her whole body shivered as she anticipated the heat of his tongue.

He pressed a kiss to her clit first before flattening his tongue against her. “Sweet fucking Jesus Christ,” she gasped.

“I’ve never done this before,” he breathed against her.

“Explore away, sir,” she whispered.

He clearly did research, if he didn’t just say this was his first time eating someone out, she would think he was an expert. She regretted having her hands tied up at that moment. She squirmed, he held her hips down. She gripped the ties around her wrists wishing it was Spencer's hair.

She was never big into overstimulation or denial, never having the willpower to keep going after making herself cum once. Spencer, however, had the ability to bring her to the edge again and again without ever letting her spillover.

She didn’t beg, she didn’t complain, she sat there in the blissful feeling and waited. It was heavenly.

“Spence,” her breathing was heavy.

He hummed, letting her know he was listening. His tongue still wiggling back and forth on her clit.

“Can you please just fuck me now?”

He kissed his way back to her mouth. All up her stomach, over her breasts, her neck and jaw. She could taste herself on his lips, “untie me?” She asked softly.

He let one hand free, which she immediately used to grip his hair. The second hand was freed and she pushed the blindfold up and worked her way into a sitting position while he kneeled in front of her.

“Anything else you want to try?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes once again. She pushed his hair out of his face and just looked at him.

“Lie back and roll over,” he instructed.

He pulled her into a face-down, ass-up position and aligned himself with her. Pushing in little by little till he bottomed out. He reached around the bed for the vibrator and placed it in her one hand.

“You decide when you cum,” was all he said before he started fucking her.

She white-knuckled the pillow as he rammed into her, she was arched in the most perfect way for him to hit her g spot every time he rammed into her.

“My hair,” she gasped, wanting him to grab her by her ponytail as he fucked her.

With one hand on her hip to steady her and the other in her hair, he fucked into her like his life depended on it. Her legs were quaking, she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t cum soon.

She flicked on the vibrator and pressed it against her own clit, feeling the familiar heat bubble in her stomach. “Fuck me, oh god,” she chanted.

Cuming with a shout, she dug her face into the pillow and all but screamed. Pushing back against Spencer as he bucked into her one last time and erupted inside of her.

His hips shook as he emptied his load before slowly pulling out and dropping down beside her.

She turned her head to look at him, eyeliner and mascara all smudged around her eyes, makeup all over the pillow. She was trying her hardest to catch her breath, staring at him with a smile on her face.

“If sex was an Olympic sport, I think we’d win,” she complimented him.

“you think?” He asked, his breath just as shaky as hers.

She rolled onto her back, letting him cuddle into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. “Everyone told me that the first time I have sex it’ll be underwhelming and uneventful, and yet every time we fuck I feel like I’ve run a marathon and I should invest in a wheelchair.”

He laughed, “would you put that in writing and send it to everyone from our high school?”

She smacked his arm. “and then I’d have to swat women off you with a bat if I wanted any alone time, you’re mine now.” She wrapped her whole body around him and held him there.

“I love you,” Spencer smiled.

“I love you, more.”

chapter 5

They packed everything into their car just to go to her parents house. There was something in Y/N’s gut that told her there was a case coming.

Her parents lived 30 minutes out of the city, on the edge of a cul-de-sac that faced a park. They had lived there since she was 5, it was her mom’s dream home. It was the only place in the town she had good memories in.

Y/N’s mother brought Diana home with her after work. They were waiting in the kitchen for Spencer and Y/N when they arrived. Tonights guests included not just them but Y/N’s youngest brother Levi, his wife Lizzie and their 2 year-old Chloe.

“There’s my girl!” Her dad cheered, standing up and rushing to give her a real hug. “Did you get taller?”

“it’s the boots,” she laughed, holding onto him tightly.

“You look great! The FBI is treating you well,” her dad was always one to compliment her. He pulled back and looked at Spencer. More like glared at him.

“Nice to meet you Sir, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid,” he said, shockingly extending his hand to shake her father's.

The profiler in her knew he was breaking his comfort zone to appease her baby boomer, ex-cop, father.

Her dad always did this thing when he met new men where he squeezed their hands to see how much they could take. “Harrison Y/L/N Sr.” She watched Spencers hand shake as he squeezed right back.

“Strong shake.” Her father complimented him. “She must have warned you.”

“No, he just knows how to read people,” Y/N laughed.

“Well come sit down Doctor Spencer Reid,” he teased him. “Let me interrogate the profiler.”

“Here we go,” Y/N laughed, placing a hand on Spencer's back as she led him into the kitchen.

They sat down together, Spencers mom, Diana, just across from him at the table. They smiled and nodded at each other in a quiet little hello.

“I would ask you to tell me a bit about yourself, but Y/N has kept me all caught up with you over the years,” her dad said. “You went to CalTech at 13, somewhere in there you got a degree from MIT, she idolized you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she blushed.

“It’s very flattering, but if anything I’m now huge fan of her’s. In the last 3 weeks she has been the one to find the major break in 3 of our cases. She is amazing at what she does, you raised an incredible woman,” Spencer replied, praising her in a way that made her heart flutter.

“Go on then, tell us about these cases then,” her dad asked.

And with that they got lost in all things horrific. Spencer explained, verbatim, how each case went down and exactly what Y/N came up with to solve them. She answered little questions here and there but mostly it was Spencer showing off how much he loved his girlfriend.

Her mom passed out dinner plates in the middle of the talk, some how all of them were able to discuss cases and eat at the same time. Her mom made burgers and potato salad for dinner, just something simple for them all.

“Did you really offer to fuck a serial killer?” Her brother asked, disgusted.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I knew in his sick twisted mind he wouldn’t be able to refuse a woman willing to let him do what he wanted and as soon as the weapon was down, so was he.”

“I always told you she’d be able to kick your ass, Levi,” her dad said. “Ever since she was a kid I knew she had it in her to wrestle someone to the ground.”

“Yeah, Spence didn’t believe me that I’m combat trained.”

“No,” Spencer interjected, “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I just didn’t ever think you’d be able to take me down.”

“And did you?” Her mom asked.

Her face turned bright red. “Yeah, I showed one of my combat maneuvers on him, we were all horsing around and I showed them how to go from being pinned to the ground to being the one on top.”

“How?” Her brother’s wife asked.

“Yeah demonstrate!” Her mom innocently cheered them on not knowing she was mid sex with him when she showed him how to do it.

“Um okay, Lizzie come with me,” she said, saving Spencer the awkwardness of having to straddle her in the middle of her family home.

She laid down on the floor, “you basically have to just pin me down how ever you see fit.”

Lizzie, sat on her, holding her shoulders down with one forearm. Y/N, quickly flipped her onto her back, making sure to catch her head as she did so. Not wanting her to smack it off the hardwood floor.

“Like that,” Y/N stood up and helped Lizzie to her feet. “Made sure all the girls knew how to do that.” She lied.

“As you should!” Her dad cheered, “nice to know your team all has each others backs.”

“How do they all feel about you two?” Diana asked. She had been mostly quiet all night, just enjoying time outside of where she was used to.

“They love it, they’ve been placing bets about us,” Y/N laughed.

“Like what?” Her dad asked.

“If he would kiss me first, if we’d tell the team ever, they even had one about who is most likely to say I love you first, they’re insufferable,” Y/N ranted.

“So what team one?” Her brother teased, just trying the embarrass her.

“He kissed me first, he told the team that we were together after like 10 hours and he was the first to say I love you,” Y/N blushed.

“Does she still have the I love you problem?” Her mom asked innocently but received a death glare from Y/N.

“Uh no, she says it to me too.” Spencer noticed the awkwardness.

“Any plans for baby number two?” Y/N asked Levi, changing the subject faster than ever.

She’d be lying if she said she was listening to the answer, her ears were ringing and all she cold focus on was Spencer’s hand on her back. Her mom was about to pass out cake when she excused herself to the bathroom, and ended up in her old bedroom.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, hearing the words her mother said over and over in her mind. “Does she still have the I love you problem?”

She rubbed her hands over her eyes and just breathed. She didn’t want him to know about that yet.

Spencer knocked on her door, opening it softly and peaking his head in. “Do you want company?”

She nodded.

He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, running his hands along her thighs. “Are you okay?”

“I told you about Christopher?” She said softly.

“yes.”

“In order to get me to do what he did, he would always say I had to because he loved me,” she explained. A tear dripped down her cheek and landed on his hand. “And so for 7 years after I never told anyone I knew that I loved them.”

“That’s okay, you went through trauma. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he soothed her.

“I want to though because, before you, I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand love, I thought it was weird and forceful and something dependent on coercion,” her voice was so tiny, she didn’t want anyone else hearing her. “Loving you is light and fluffy and special and safe, I didn’t want you to think just now that I said it this weekend to get it over with or something because I truly do love you.

He pulled her into a kiss, “I love you, more.”

She laughed, “we’ll see about that.”

—

Y/N and Diana were doing the dishes as her mom packed the leftover food into Tupperware containers. Debbie was just about to ask who wanted coffee when Y/N’s phone started to ring.

She sighed, drying her hands on a dishtowel before answering the phone. “SSA Y/N Y/L/N.”

“There’s been an explosion at a mall in Los Angeles and reports of 4 more planned, how fast can you and Reid get to LA?” Hotch asked.

“Um, we’re about 45 minutes from the airport.”

“We’re 4 hours out, we want you and Reid there ASAP. Is there any way we could send a helicopter to get you?”

“Yes, there’s a soccer field across the street from my parent's house, Garcia knows the address she can direct them where to go, we’ll be ready.”

“Debrief has already been sent to your phones, I need you and Reid to go to the LA field office and start communication with Garcia on victimology.”

“Got it.” She said as she hung up. “Spence we have to go!”

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“We have an emergency in LA, they need us there immediately. There’s a helicopter coming to get us,” Y/N explained as she walked around the room towards her go-bag.

She unzipped it, unfolding her bullet-proof vest and putting it on. She adjusted her gun and made sure she had everything she needed. Spencer did the same at the table beside her.

“You are a badass,” her dad complimented her, filming her getting her gear on. “This is my daughter! FBI superhero! Kickass tonight kid!” He had an affinity for embarrassing her, but an even bigger obsession with showing her off.

He was like that with all of his children, first with her brother Harrison in the army, then with her other brother Levi and his swat training. Now his daughter was catching serial killers like it was nothing.

“Okay, we gotta go, the helicopter will be landing in that field in 3 minutes. Dad are you okay to take the car back to the dealership if this takes a while? We will be back for our suitcases after the case, I love you guys.” She said. handing her father the car keys and moving to put her shoes on.

“Got everything?” Spencer asked.

“Yep,” she smiled.

They walked out the door and across the street. Most of the neighbourhood watched a helicopter land in the soccer field as the sun was setting. They ducked as they ran getting in the chopper and strapping in.

“Agent Valdez, Nevada PD!” the officer in the pilot seat introduced herself. “We have just over an hour till we land, use the headsets to communicate with me if you need to!”

And they were off. She looked down to see her family waving up at them from their houses as the neighbours she grew up around took photos and videos of them leaving.

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked.

Y/N took out her phone and read over the debrief, “tonight at The Grove in Los Angeles, a small bomb went off killing 6 people and injuring 31.”

“Where did it go off?” Reid asked.

“Inside a small dress store that has been renting the space for the last 7 years,” Y/N confirmed. “I’m sure Garcia is looking into everyone who was injured or killed as well as the current and former employees.”

“It says here that the person who called 911 before the bomb went off warned of 3 bombs to come. Saying; ‘4 bombs in total the first in clear, the next is where her checks would clear.’” Reid read from the phone.

“So we need to find a connection between the dress store and a bank in the area,” Y/N said. “We need to go over that call more, have Garcia look into every aspect of the sound.”

“Where did Hotch say he wants us?” Reid asked.

“At the LA field office, he wants us working behind the scenes in correspondence with Garcia.”

Spencer sighed, “well, our weekend was fun while it lasted.

9:42pm PST

By the time the rest of the team landed and Hotch and JJ arrived at the field office, another 2 bombs had gone off at a Liberty Bank downtown LA.

“Garcia, do we have any connection from the dress shop to the bank yet?” Hotch asked.

“Nothing Sir, I have dug and dug and there isn’t a single person with a connection to both the bank and the dress shop within the last few months, I'm widening back 2-5 years but still nothing,” Garcia panicked over the phone.

“Is there any possibility our unsub is female? This to me feels like a scorned lover, maybe her husband is paying someone under the table who is cashing checks at that exact ATM that exploded and then went and bought a dress,” Y/N suggests.

“Garcia run with that as far as you can and call us back,” Hotch ordered.

“On it!” She cheered before hanging up.

Spencer looked around at all the info he and Y/N brainstormed while waiting for the team. “a female unsub would make the most sense.”

“Did we get any more clues for where the next bomb will be?” JJ asked.

Agent Cunningham from the LA field office shook his head, “nothing at the scene or over 911, we’re on the lookout for any suspicious calls and tips currently.”

“If you were cheating on your wife, after going to the bank and the dress shop where does she go with you next?” Y/N asked Hotch.

“Uh,” he shook his head, clearly faithful to his wife. “Dinner and a hotel?”

“So those are possibly the next two targets,” Y/N said, “but finding out what restaurant and hotel in the entirety of LA is like finding a needle in a needle stack.”

“I hate to say it,” JJ sighed, “but we might need one more explosion before we get a breakthrough.”

“All we can do is hope for minimal damage,” Y/N shot a soft smile over to her, “till then, what kind of woman in the area could make the type of bombs that are being used?”

“Almost anyone,” Morgan said as he walked into the room. “I was just looking at the debris and shrapnel, it’s a fairly simple bomb that anyone with basic knowledge or internet access could make.”

Hotch called Garcia once more. “Can you start a search for women 35-55 who are married, ask the NSA if we can search through any women in the LA area googling how to make bombs in the last month.”

“Of course, I’ve also been looking at the past transactions of the specific ATMs that were targeted, 13 of the people depositing cash and cheques there, recently bought dresses from the store at The Grove.”

“Any of them look like they are partaking in an affair?” Y/N asked.

“2 of them are lesbian women, 3 are drag queens and the other 8 are girls in high school depositing birthday money,” Garcia explained.

“Well thanks for looking, hopefully, the NSA has some hits for us,” Hotch said as he hung up. “I guess we wait.”

11:56pm

“We’ve got reports of an explosion in an all-female dorm at UCLA,” one of the LA agents said as he burst through the door.

“Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi,” Hotch said, “go to the scene and find out everything.”

Y/N called Garcia, “as soon as we know what room the explosion was in I need you to go back 10 years of women who lived in that dorm room and their connections to older men. Sugar daddies, teachers, anyone.”

“The 911 call shortly after the bomb say it was heard on the first floor, possibly room 119 as that's where the blast was heard. Luckily the girl who was supposed to be in that room was with her friend down the hall so we currently have no casualties here,” Garcia explained.

“Thank god,” JJ exclaimed, placing her hand over her eyes.

“In the last 10 years, 6 different women have all had that room,” Garcia said as she narrowed down her search. “Okay, here we go this is the juicy stuff!”

“What is it?” Hotch asked.

“From 2000 to 2002 Maggie Burton was working on a science degree at UCLA. She was working part-time, both years, as the main Chemistry professor's teaching assistant, she was depositing money from him bi-weekly to Liberty Bank.”

“Okay, who was the professor?” Spencer asked.

“Michael Thompson, 56, but that would be too simple now wouldn’t it?” Penelope teased. “Thompson is gay and has been in a domestic partnership since 1998, his Partner Adam Pearson, however, is bisexual according to the sugar daddy website he’s on,” she explained further. “Whether Maggie knows it or not, she had been getting paid to be Thompson's TA, as well as his boyfriend sugar baby.”

“So our unsub is Michael Thompson?” Hotch confirmed.

“By the looks of it, yes. Maggie stopped being a TA when she graduated and now she works with a cosmetics developer downtown. Every week she deposits 500 cash to the ATM, which is the exact amount of cash Adam has been withdrawing for the last 7 years,” she kept explaining, they could hear her keyboard clicking as she kept digging. “Look’s like Adam is filing to remove the domestic partnership and he bought a ring last week.”

“There’s the trigger,” Spencer confirmed. “Do we have a home and work address as well as where the next bomb would be?”

“Adam checked into a Hilton hotel downtown, suite 613 which he has been booking once a month for the last 7 years,” Garcia confirmed. “Sending the locations now.”

“I need a bomb squad sent to the Hilton hotel, evacuations should be done floor by floor saving floor 6 for last, I need agents on floor 6 to evacuate all rooms, except for 613, quietly without making a scene.”

“Sir, suit 612 was booked only for tonight by Michael Thompson, using cash,” Garcia cut him off.

“All rooms but 612 and 613 are to be evacuated, I need a direct line on the scene to room 612 when we arrive,” Hotch ordered as they all hurried towards the elevator.

—

On the scene, Reid, Y/L/N and JJ were sent up with the bomb squad to floor 6. Red lights in the stairwell were flashing to alert that there was an evacuation taking place, but the building was silent.

There were 14 rooms on floor 6, 4 of them being rented that night. Rooms 601 and 608 were the only two they had to focus on to evacuate.

JJ quietly knocked on room 601, “Hi sir,” she whispered. “My name is Jennifer, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing your necessities and any other guests in the room, an officer will escort you down the stairs. In the parking lot across the street, there are people issuing refunds and information about relocations for the night.”

The man nodded, he quickly grabbed his things and followed an officer down the hall.

Y/N knocked on 608 next, a young woman answered. “Hi, my name is Y/N, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor-“

“I have 2 kids with me,” she whispered.

“Okay, are they awake?” JJ asked.

“My daughter, she’s 2, she’s out cold. My son is watching TV, oh my god my husband isn’t here,” she quietly panicked.

“Ma’am it’s fine, we have officers here to assist you down the stairs and across the street, there are relocation preparations being made. If you don’t mind, I can help you carry your daughter down the stairs?” Spencer said softly.

“Yes, absolutely.” She said, running into the room to gather all her things.

Spencer lifted the little girl up softly, not waking her at all in the process. He held her against his chest softly while the mother grabbed their necessities and her 6-year-old son before followed Spencer down the stairs.

JJ and Y/N stood in the stairwell, Y/N picked up her radio and called down to Hotch. “All civilians on the 6th floor have been evacuated.”

“Any movement in 612?”

“Yes sir,” one of the bomb squad members said. “With our tech, we can see 2 bodies in 613 and 1 in 612, all alive.”

“Any idea how many bombs were talking about?” Hotch asked.

“Not yet, we need a clear look inside the room. Snipers on the building across the street say the blinds are closed,” he explained.

“Hotch, have you gotten in contact with him at all?” JJ asked.

“No, he won't pick up,” hotch confirmed.

“Would you like one of us to knock?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet, I want you both to come down. If we’re knocking on his door we need to have a full plan in place,” Hotch ordered.

“Over,” Y/N said. Following JJ back down the 6 flights of stairs.

Down at the base of operations, Spencer was still holding onto the 2-year-old as the mother called her husband. He shushed her and held her close with a blanket over her back as she slept.

“Hotch,” JJ got his attention. “I noticed each room has vents on the connected walls, is there any way to get into 611 and snake in a camera to see what we’re dealing with?”

“That was my next suggestion,” a SWAT office said as he shook her hand. “We’re prepping the equipment now.”

“Can we also spray a sleeping agent through the vents? If we knock out the unsub we can just drag him out and see what’s going on?” Y/N suggested.

“Yeah that would work,” the SWAT officer said, “we have a sleeping agent in a compressed gas form that we can spray through the vents.”

“Okay, just in 612,” Hotch confirmed. Y/N I want you and Morgan up there to assist in making sure Maggie and Adam are evacuated safely while the bomb squad looks at what we have going on.”

“On it,” she and Morgan said at the same time.

One of the SWAT officers pulled them aside, handing them protective gear for the gas that will erupt into the hallway. She waved to Spencer in the lot as she headed across the street with the SWAT team. They ran up the stairs, it was exhausting but Y/N pushed through, up the six flights. They quietly unlocked room 611 and filled the room with officers.

First, they snaked a small camera through the vent, the image showing on the screen right away, “you seeing this Hotch?” Morgan asked over the radio.

“Crystal.”

“It’s a wall of C4,” one of the Bomb Squad officers quietly confirmed. “Fairly simple to dismantle, it looks like it’s a manual switch. Wait till he crosses the room, and then spray the gas. We need officers to be in the room as it’s sprayed. He needs to hit the floor nowhere close to the detonator.”

Morgan quietly opened the door and assembled the team in the hall, making movements with his hands as he instructed the men. The door kicker was in place, the officers were ready to file in.

The swat agent deployed the gas, they watched on the monitor as the unsub turned to look at the hissing sound, inspecting it before hitting the ground.

“NOW!” Morgan yelled. The door was knocked in and the unsub was in handcuffs.

Y/N ran to 613, knocking on the door as hard as she could. “FBI OPEN UP!” She yelled.

A half-naked man opened the door, “what?” He yelled.

“We need to evacuate the building right now, cover-up and follow me.” She ordered as the two victims covered themselves and followed her down the stairs.

Halfway down, she got a call over the radio. “Bomb has been defused, all clear on floor 6.”

“Bomb?” The man questioned.

“Yes sir,” Y/N confirmed. “your partner, and your science teacher, Michael Thompson, has been bombing places around the city that you two have been to, and was planning to blow you up tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Maggie asked.

“He’s under arrest, you’ll have your chance to ask him questions in court,” Y/N confirmed as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

She held the door for them and watched as they were whisked away by EMTs. She waited for another set for the unsub before turning around and running all the way back up the 6 flights to Morgan.

Morgan was standing over the cuffed, unconscious, unsub in the hallway. “Good job pretty girl!” Morgan high-fived her.

“Thanks,” she smiled, “let's get this bastard down into the ambulance. The elevators should go back up in a minute.”

“What? No more stairs?” Morgan teased.

“I might not be able to feel my legs tomorrow, I’ve been up and down those too many times tonight!” She smacked him.

“Sure that’s why,” he laughed as they waited for the elevator.

—

Spencer and Y/N packed up that night and took a short trip back to Los Vegas. By the time they arrived back on her parent's doorstep it was 5:32 am. 12 hours since they were last there.

She sighed at the front door and called her parent's home phone. “Hello?” Her father's sleep-ridden voice answered.

“Hey dad, it’s Y/N can you come open the front door for me? Please.” She asked nicely.

“Yep.” He hung up.

She watched the hall light come on from the front door. Waiting for him to slowly make his way down the stairs to the front hallway. He unlocked the door and welcomed them in.

“Your mom cleaned off your bed in case this happened,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“5:30, go back up to bed, we’ll lock back up, thank you,” she hugged him and sent him on his way.

She sighed and sunk down to sit on the bottom step. She tugged her boots off and left them in the hallway. Spencer picked them up and moved them to be in order with the rest of the shoes. He locked her parent's front door and turned off the entryway light.

“You need water or anything before bed?” Y/N asked.

“No, come on,” he took her hand and walked with up the stairs to her bedroom.

She closed the door behind him, peeling out of her clothes and climbing into bed first. She got under the covers and moved the pillows around to make sure they were how she liked them.

Spencer crawled in beside her, wearing just his socks and underwear. He laid flat on his back while she cuddled into his side. He kissed the top of her head and let out a deep breath as he settled into relaxation finally.

“I love you,” she reminded him.

“I love you, more.”

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

Gabriel Agreste: Interesting Villain, Horrible Character (400 Follower Special)

I'm honestly surprised more people didn't want me to talk about Gabriel, especially with how often I rag on how horrible of a person he is. But, three character analysis posts later, and we're going to talk about why the main villain of Miraculous Ladybug is a real letdown.

Gabriel Needs to give the Whining a Rest

The interesting thing is one of the few things I actually liked in Season 3 was Hawkmoth. His plans actually made sense (for the most part), and by playing the long game, he managed to turn Chloe against Ladybug and deprived her of several key allies. Granted, Season 4 immediately undid the latter, but I was still impressed by his strategy.

Generally, one of the better aspects of Gabriel as a character was just how over the top he was as Hawkmoth. Keith Silverstein is clearly giving it his all with his performance, and he is just so enjoyable to watch as a cartoonish supervillain.

And therein lies the first major problem with Gabriel as a character. While he is fun to watch as a simple supervillain, the show tries to give him more depth and unintentionally makes him worse.

In Season 2, when it was revealed that Gabriel was Hawkmoth, many fans speculated on what he needed the Miraculous for, until the Queen Bee Trilogy showed it was to save his possibly dead wife, Emilie. The idea of that is so the show can give more depth to its main villain, and I think it's an interesting idea in concept. After all, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

The problem is just how radically different Gabriel is normally compared to how he is as Hawkmoth. He always goes on about how he's “doing this for Emilie”, but it's hard to really sympathize with him when you consider he constantly gives evil monologues and evil laughs, really getting into the supervillain role. And let's not forget all of the “I'm going to wear Ladybug's skin as a suit” faces he loves to make.

Clearly this man is the picture of mental stability.

Gabriel's motivation for being Hawkmoth when compared to what he actually does as Hawkmoth is shady enough, but the thing is that the writers clearly want the audience to at least feel a little bad for him. They want to make the audience sympathize with him despite the way he acts with or without the mask. Without Miraculous Ladybug, he is routinely putting innocent lives in danger and never once shows regret for his actions. All he talks about is how “he's doing this for Emilie”, or that “he'll get their Miraculous soon”. There's no real reason to feel bad for him other than “because the script says so”.

Let's compare Gabriel to Malcolm Merlyn from Arrow. His big plan in the first season of the show is to create a machine that will cause an earthquake to destroy a crime-infested portion of Starling City, claiming to be trying to help everyone, but it's clear he is only doing it out of revenge for his wife getting killed by a criminal from that part of the city. In addition, throughout that season and future seasons, he always makes sure his plans lead to him benefiting in some way, showing he isn't just some noble man trying to achieve his goals with a less than noble method.

If we got some moments that showed that what Gabriel was doing was selfish, it would make him a more complex villain. But we don't get anything like that. What do we get instead? Well...

I Could Really Care Less About Emilie Agreste

We have known Gabriel's motivation has been to save his wife for a little over two years at this point, but at the same time, it's hard to believe that motivation because of how underdeveloped Emilie is as a character.

There have been a total of two lines in the entirety of the show that explain what happened to Emilie, and they're both vague as hell. One of them was from “Feast” that implied Emilie used the broken Peacock Miraculous.

Adrien: My mom used to have dizzy spells… just like Nathalie.

And the other that outright tells the audience what's happening to her in a clip show that most people will skip.

Nathalie: As I've watched Emilie falling deeper into an endless sleep, my sadness for her has deepened, too

That is literally all we get for an explanation, and nothing else. We have no idea of what she's like as a person or what her relationship with her family was like other than Gabriel and Adrien saying they miss her. Other than the way the narrative says she's important to Gabriel and Adrien, we don't really have a reason to care about her as a character. There have also been some lines that imply she went along with Gabriel's questionable parenting techniques, like how he was apparently only homeschooled as a kid (Origins) and never had a birthday party growing up (The Bubbler), so how do we even know if she's a good person? In fact, why not set up this question as a mystery to make the audience wonder if Gabriel has another reason to bring Emilie back?

It ultimately turns Emilie into a plot device and not a character that Gabriel and Adrien only bring up to make the audience feel bad for them, and meant to justify Gabriel's actions by saying that he's “doing this for his family”.

But hey, if he's doing this all for his family, surely Gabriel's redeeming traits come from his relationship with Adrien, right? Right?

As a Parent, Gabriel is Far From the Best

I've talked about this briefly before, but parenting in Miraculous Ladybug is written in such a black and white way, even by the standards of this show. Parents are portrayed in one of two ways. They're either amazing people who love and support their children unconditionally, or they're awful people who treat their own children like trash. And much like a lot of things in this show, there are times where the latter is treated like the former.

There are so many times where the narrative insists on making you see Gabriel as a troubled, but wellmeaning person who tries his best to be a good parent to Adrien, but it is far from the truth.

I'm not going to beat around the bush. Gabriel is a terrible parent. Like, he is awful at being a parent in so many ways, even before you find out he's Hawkmoth. In his first appearance, “The Bubbler”, he delegates getting Adrien a birthday present to Nathalie, his assistant. He literally can't be bothered to take time out of his schedule to get his own son a present for his birthday. And as the show goes on, he becomes more controlling and forbids Adrien from going out with his friends in other episodes (Captain Hardrock, Silencer). While this could be used to show Gabriel getting worse, it's never acknowledged in-universe, with Adrien continually defending his father essentially keeping him on house arrest.

“But IOTA!” You might say. “Gabriel has made efforts to bond with his son in some episodes.” While that might be true, most of those come right after his Akumas have almost gotten Adrien killed. He only hugged Adrien and made an attempt to learn more about him after Simon Says invaded their home, he only decided to watch that movie Emilie was in with Adrien after Gorizilla nearly dropped him off a building, and he only hugged Adrien again in public after he was turned into a gold statue by Style Queen.

In fact, let's talk about how Gabriel acts in the Queen Bee Trilogy. He actually decides to quit being Hawkmoth, but it's not because he realizes all the damage he's caused. Instead, he gave up because his “magnum opus”, a stronger than usual Akuma that only got the advantage on Ladybug ironically because of dumb luck, failed. Sure, he says he can't keep putting his son in danger, but he rarely ever acknowledges that he does so in the first place. When Riposte wanted to fight Adrien, Hawkmoth did nothing to stop her other than giving her a stern warning earlier on and nothing else. Where was this attitude earlier?

Hell, even then, he immediately goes back to being Hawkmoth as soon as he sees an opportunity, not even a day after his “mAgNuM oPuS” blew up in his face (because I guess Scarletmoth was just Plan B). If he made such a big deal about caring for his son, why didn't he try harder to spend time with him? Has he ever had doubts about what he's doing before? If Chloe didn't show up as Queen Bee, was he going to follow through on his promise and try to be a better father to Adrien instead of trying to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous?

And yeah, the whole irony is that Gabriel is doing this for his family when he is unknowingly fighting his own son, which could lead to some interesting drama if done right. The idea of how Gabriel would react to his son being Cat Noir could really lead to some internal struggles for him to go through. But then we got “Cat Blanc”, which shows just how terrible of a character Gabriel is.

In an alternate timeline where he found out his son was Cat Noir, what does Gabriel do? Does he try to steal Adrien's Miraculous while he's sleeping? Does he reconsider his actions or realize he was endangering Adrien's life?

NOPE! He just decides to akumatize him all while emotionally tormenting him, before causing the end of the world.

This is honestly one of the most appalling things I've ever seen in any TV show, because it's basically an abusive father ordering his son to listen to him all while referencing his (kind of) dead mother to back up his point. And rather than use this to show how despicable Gabriel is, the episode decides to blame Marinette for this happening. Yes, according to the show, her present to Adrien caused several events to happen which caused Cat Blanc, but this logic makes no sense. It's like blaming the JFK assassination on the man who sold a gun to Lee Harvey Oswald, instead of, you know, Lee Harvey Oswald.

Not only was this episode yet another excuse to blame Marinette for something that wasn't her fault, it leads into the biggest problem I have with Gabriel as a character.

Sympathize with Gabriel? Surely, You Jest

After everything I've gone over regarding Gabriel as a character, after all the awful things I've talked about, are you really surprised that I don't feel bad for him at all?

Gabriel is just an awful character and a despicable human being, but the show just keeps wanting me to feel bad for him. It's just so hard to when you consider everything he's done has made him anything but sympathetic. I'm just saying, it's kind of hard to feel bad for someone who tries to start World War III with the only justification being “i'M dOiNg It FoR mY fAmIlY”, especially when he treats his family like crap.

The writers go out of their way to show how horrible Gabriel is as Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth, but they think because they throw in a few moments where he looks conflicted, we'll immediately feel bad for him. What makes so many people interested in seeing Chloe become a better person is that they can tell she's the victim of a troubled upbringing, and know that because she's only a teenager, she still has room to grow as a person, represented by having more honest moments of vulnerability. Gabriel is a grown man who once caused the apocalypse because of how terrible of a parent he is, and has even fewer sympathetic moments than Chloe does. Which one of these two is supposedly irredeemable? The answer may surprise you.

But the frustrating thing is that this kind of villain could have worked. Instead of making him this mustache-twirling psychopath, show how much Gabriel regrets what he has to do, but keeps pushing onward despite all the lives he's risking if it means that he can save his wife. Instead of making Gabriel like Lex Luthor, make him like Mr. Freeze, who is basic a better written version of him.

But as it stands, there's a good reason why Gabriel gets little to no respect as a character in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom, as a villain, or as a father.

[borkthemork]

Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

-----

Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on. 

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent. 

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep. 

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted,  letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did. 

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock. 

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful. 

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this. 

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

[shirophantomvox]

Analyzing Illumi Zoldyck's Character

Chrollo Analysis | Hisoka Analysis | Killua Analysis

What’s up y’all! Sorry for being away for the last few days. I needed a break from social media because I am so tired of seeing toxic, self-righteous people on my TL. Anyway, quite a lot of you liked my posts about analyzing HxH characters and somehow comparing them to VLD characters. Today, I’ll be talking about Illumi Zoldyck and I’ll try to compare him to a Voltron character. I know many people have already analyzed this character before, but it wouldn’t hurt to add to the discussion some years later. If you want me to write about anything else, send me an ask! The formatting of this post may be different than the one I wrote about Hisoka Morrow (click his name to view that post).

HERE WE GO!

In the first season, all of the characters are contestants for the Hunter’s Exam. I say contestants because this is a contest to see who can win without any injuries and can keep up with each host. I forget what number stage they were at, but I do know they were at the stage where each opponent has to fight each other. They are declared the winner if their opponent forfeits or gives up mid-match. (Off-topic, but) I am going, to be honest; Gon was my favorite character but his flaws began to show, annoyed me, and later led to his horrific downfall (based from YouTube clips). He didn’t know when to stop and kept pushing himself over the limit. Anyway, Killua and Gittarackur are set to fight. This is when things take a turn for the worse.

Gittarackur is a form of a disguise for Illumi to mask his identity. His face is long; nearly (and reminds me of) in the shape of a Tiki. His face also reminds me of the Witch Doctor mask from Scooby-Doo and Hell-raiser. He has several pins stuck in his face to maintain the facial features of Gittarackur. On the flip side, if he removes the pins, his biological form is revealed. Once he does this, Killua is nearly paralyzed; he cannot believe his eyes and I’m sure the trauma he endured at home hit him like a sack of rocks. Illumi then tells Killua that he wants him to return home, that he cannot maintain a friendship with Gon, stated that he was going to kill Gon, but realizes that if he does so he will be disqualified and will not obtain his Hunter’s license.

I’m assuming the cops aren’t a thing in this reality and the only way for them to “destroy” under the law is by obtaining the license. What do you think? I rarely see police officers; all I see are the Mafia and every they suck compared to the Zoldyck's and the Phantom Troupe. Shit, it seems like they’re the police but have twisted motives.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a fictional character or not, first impressions matter and he bombed this one...even for a villain.

But you did this for what?

How can you hypnotize (by using Nen) your own brother into killing another opponent because he doesn’t want to become an emotionless zombie like you? At least, that’s my perception. Telling your brother to run every time he faces an opponent that he knows he cannot win against is the sickest shit I’ve ever seen. I know I’m jumping around but another thought popped into my head. As the seasons go on, Illumi expresses an odd way of loving his younger brother and to him, that means to make him suffer in the same way he had to. It seems like Illumi is jealous of Gon in a way. (I’ve seen clips on YouTube) Killua takes Alluka to the hospital to heal Gon. Illumi has stated several times to Hisoka that Killua was hiding rules from him and that he still wanted to get rid of Alluka. Although it is clearly stated why he wanted Alluka gone, I still think that Illumi was jealous of Gon simply because his younger brother preferred to be with a friend instead of him. This is why he emphasizes “You cannot have friends. Either they will betray you or you’ll betray them.”

As I read and watched as the seasons went on, I noticed something about Illumi and his family. We all know that the children were raised by their parents. Specifically, their dad is a trained assassin. I can’t remember but I think Zeno is their grandfather who is also an assassin.

I view him as a character that has suffered from abuse and trauma in order to mold him into an assassin. He is emotionless, doesn’t really care for others, has an odd relationship with Killua that he doesn’t have for his other siblings, and is a hypocrite. Killua can’t be friends with Gon but every time the show cuts to him, he’s with Hisoka? Something is fishy there. Are they more than friends? OK, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Here's the physical analysis below.

Face

When masquerading as Gittarackur, his face has several pins in them and his hair is in a rock star form of Mohawk that is purple. I’ll give him 10/10 for uniqueness, yet it still reminded me of Hell Raiser.

I’ve noticed that when he is in public he is in costume. Why doesn’t he reveal himself in public? I’ve researched this and no one could answer this question. My guess is that he is a verified hunter and assassin. How can you carry out your missions if everyone knows what you look like? Without the pins in his face, it reverts back to his natural state. To me, his large eyes and long, shiny black hair are his distinguished features. Although he may be my least favorite character, he does have pretty eyes. Haven’t you all heard of “I got lost in his/her eyes”?

Yeah, that can be said about him. Most definitely. He rarely smiles and when he does, something BAD is going to happen. I saw him laugh crazily once Alluka began the healing process, the Nen (I guess) rose from the hospital and got on him. This scene reminds me of how Haggar reacted once the Komar’s quintessence bounced from Voltron and bounced onto her. Wow, these supernatural abilities make y’all feel that good?

Clothes

Gittarackur and Illumi wear the same clothes, which should be a clear giveaway that they are the same. Illumi wears a neural green short jacket that has yellow pins in them, a light green shirt underneath, and green pants. His shoes remind me of loafers with a heel on them, something my grandmother would wear.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say again, these bad-ass men in this show are very stylish and seem to be in shape more than I am. Although Illumi irks me, his fashion is great and this is why people prefer him to be their favorite character. Shows should always produce characters that are memorable; that is the key to a long-lasting fan base.

In conclusion, this anime (for the most part) has well-rounded characters that make the plot interesting and wanting more.

Illumi and Lotor are somewhat similar. They both grew up in abusive households and lost some sense of sensitivity, common sense, and were often “misguided” by their own selfishness. Illumi wants a better life for Killua by constantly brainwashing him into thinking that he cannot have friends and his can only find happiness through killing. Zarkon raises Lotor to be a prince that shouldn't work with planets and should destroy them. This explains why he used deceased Alteans from the colony, drained their quintessence, and didn't give them a proper burial. Lotor IS just like his father but Killua IS NOT like Illumi. Ironic, huh? As we all know by now, Lotor is the son of Honerva (Haggar) and Zarkon. After the rift accident, he became an emotionless, ruthless monster that colonized and destroyed planets just to gain their quintessence. He taught this to his son and once he was old enough to think for himself, he refused to act in such a way. Although he was exiled and said he wasn’t like Zarkon, he was; but worse. Lotor studied and gained knowledge about Altea and its people while using Allura to gain the secrets of Oriande. I say he used her because he knew from the moment he met her that he was harvesting Altean quintessence. While fighting the white lion, he yelled “Victory or Death” which is a common catchphrase the Galra use when they are in battle. In fact, the Galra have been victims of trauma from Zarkon. Zarkon’s ruthless ways of ruling had no other motive except for obtaining quintessence so he could live forever. Silva’s way of raising his children was done to mold them into assassins. Since he was taught this way he did the same thing to his children. Zarkon, Silva, and Zeno think that their ways of parenting are necessary for survive in life when it doesn’t have to be that way. Illumi and Lotor have experienced this horrific parenting and deal with it in different ways. Illumi is oddly obsessive of his younger brother and Lotor is a fucking liar.

This analysis was fun! Next, I’ll be analyzing Killua and Keith Kogane.

If you’d like to see more posts like this, send me an ASK!

[blueskrugs]

Some People Do | Nathan MacKinnon

title from an Old Dominion song of the same name. highly recommend a listen while reading.

the only other words I have are that I cried while writing this.  

length: 6.2k words

I know that time just keeps going on And words by themselves can't right all the wrongs

No one ever claimed that dating an NHL player was easy. In fact, it was hard as hell. Dating the face of a franchise, the savior of a franchise, was hard as hell. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Nate. You loved him more than anyone else, more than you sometimes thought was possible. But sometimes you wondered if your relationship was doomed from the start, if carrying the weight of the expectations of Denver on Nate’s shoulders was too much for both of you to handle. 

Nate had proclaimed himself unromantic before, but you didn’t really need flowers and extravagant gifts. With Nate, it was always the little things. He would cook you breakfast in the mornings before you left for work and he for practice. He would sneak into your apartment when you had a long day at work and clean up. (Never laundry though. He always said he was too scared of fucking that up.) It was letting you cuddle on the couch, no questions asked, no words spoken, on days you really needed it; he always seemed to know about those days even before you did. You knew the other boys teased Nate sometimes, everything from ribbing him about being whipped to roasting him for his somewhat abysmal gift-giving skills. Nate would just blush and give them that shy little smile you loved so much. 

That’s the way things were for a long time. You were both happy, comfortable. You wondered sometimes, on the hardest nights, if you had gotten too comfortable. If you had forgotten just where you were, who you were with, and how lucky you were that Nate had ever given you the time of day in the first place. 

You missed the drama of the Avalanche’s historically bad, never-before-seen debacle of a year that had been the 2016-2017 season and came into Nate’s life when they were back on their feet, making a name for themselves in the standings again. You still saw the damage it had done to him, though, in the way he blamed himself for losses, took them a little harder than anyone else– except maybe Gabe– in the way he dialed up his intensity even stronger than ever until he was satisfied. Except he was never satisfied, probably would never be, bar winning a Cup or three. 

The Avs dug themselves out a hole. And then they hit a wall again.

It was the same old shit that always seemed to dog the team, injury after injury, games that just never seemed to go their way, no matter how hard they fought. 

October started out fine. They won more than they lost, and it looked like they could have a chance at being something this year. The end of October came with a string of losses. Mikko went down with a lower-body injury on Halloween. 

November continued a downward spiral. Nate stopped scoring, Burky broke his wrist, and they only won a handful of games the entire month. Nate started coming home late from the arena, sweaty and exhausted; you knew he was running himself ragged, literally, on the treadmill and on drills. His blue eyes were hard as stone, and the set of his jaw grew more tense with each loss the team strung together. 

Road trips were the hardest. From the start of your relationship, you and Nate made a point to FaceTime during roadies. You looked forward to those calls all day, because no matter how terrible the game had been, Nate would see you and smile. You would always do anything for him to smile. The calls continued that terrible season, and for a while, it seemed like nothing had changed. Nate’s eyes were more tired than usual, his brow permanently furrowed, but you would answer the phone, and that would all disappear for a moment when he grinned at you.

You had just gotten out of the shower when your phone started ringing with a FaceTime call. You were surprised to see that it was Nate. You hadn’t been officially dating for very long at all, and he had only left for the road trip that morning. 

“What the hell is on your head?” was the first thing out of Nate’s mouth when you answered the call. Somewhere off camera, you could hear Tyson Barrie cackling. 

Your hand flew up to your hair, which was wrapped in a towel. “It’s a towel, dumbass. And I just got out of the shower, I’m not wearing makeup or anything,” you whined. 

Nate rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to respond when Tyson leaned into frame. “Hi, Y/N!” he yelled. Nate flinched.

There was a moment of darkness and what sounded like the two wrestling on the bed for a moment, before a whispered, “Get out of here!” and a door closing. “I’m sorry about him,” Nate said, picking his phone back up. 

You just laughed. You had only met Tyson one time so far, and he seemed like fun, if not a little crazy. “Let me just-” You reached up to tug the towel off your head. 

“No, don’t! I mean, I think it’s cute,” Nate said. You froze, staring at his blurry face on your phone screen. You were pretty sure he was blushing in the shitty hotel light. “I just- I missed you, and I don’t care what you look like. I mean-wait, I don’t want you to think you need to have makeup or shit on for me to think you’re beautiful.” Yeah, he was definitely blushing now. He was also smiling a little bit, cautiously, as if he was afraid of your response.

You smiled back, settling in against the pillows on your bed, and saying, “Nate, I literally saw you this morning.” He shrugged.

“Wanted to see your face again,” he mumbled. Then, “Can I call you tomorrow after our game, too?”

He did call you the next night, and the night after that, and then roadtrip FaceTime calls became a routine.

As the season went on, you waited by the phone every night Nate was out of town, but slowly the calls became few and far between, until they stopped entirely. 

Most wouldn't forgive what I put you through But I'm here tonight, hoping some people do

Nate started watching game film obsessively, coming home and sitting up for hours. He would watch his own clips, his teammates’ clips, clips from every other team, watching for any mistake or flaw, some way to fix this. He’d always been so serious about schedules and routines, but he started coming to bed later and later. You always tried to get Nate to come to bed with you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and murmuring a, “Babe, c’mon, it’s getting late,” but he’d shrug you off and say back, “Just a few more minutes.”

You resigned yourself to going to bed alone. Cox started laying in Nate’s spot on the bed. 

The Penguins came to town. The slump continued, for the team and for Nate. Nate got benched. It was December, and all the Crosbys and MacKinnons had come to town, too, planning to celebrate Christmas a little early while everyone could be together. 

Bednar had told Nate he wouldn’t be playing against the Pens following a morning skate. Cale told you he had broken his stick against a wall afterwards. His temper followed him home, came back with a vengeance, and you would never forget the sadness on Taylor’s face and the anger on Sarah’s when he snapped at Taylor over something stupid and let the door slam behind him for good measure. He didn’t talk to any of you for the rest of the night, and he drove to the arena alone.

The Avs won in a game that was nothing short of a Christmas miracle. Nate came home in a slightly better mood, apologized to Taylor, and started channeling his anger into his time on the ice instead. It might have had something to do with the fact that you were sure he hadn’t missed the way you flinched when he had yelled. 

The end of December saw a win streak for the Avs and a scoring streak for Nate. 

“I thought about asking for a trade,” Nate said casually one January night. It was the All-Star break, and Nate had found a cabin on a lake in California to rent for bye week. He didn’t look up at you as he said it, gazing instead up at the stars, and your heart broke.

Nate’s arm was draped around your shoulder, and it had been a comforting weight, but suddenly it felt like it would crush you. You hadn’t been in Denver for the drama of the last teammate that had requested a trade midseason, but you knew the tale, knew the bitterness that was still in that locker room. You knew how it could destroy a team. And you’d had no idea Nate was even considering it.

He kept talking. “Thought about trying to go somewhere where people didn’t care about hockey, somewhere where it didn’t matter if I had been a fluke.” His voice broke. “I just want out sometimes. Get away from all the fucking expectations, the hope that I’ll bring the Cup back to Denver, that I can be the next Sidney Crosby, just the next best thing out of Cole Harbour.” It was the first time you had ever heard Nate say Sid’s name like that, with venom and bitterness.

You were speechless, couldn’t find the words to respond to Nate. You weren’t even sure he wanted you to respond, to argue with him. So you just shrugged off his arm from your shoulders and pulled him into your chest, resting your chin on his head as you watched the stars together.

The trade deadline passed. Nate still wore an A for the Colorado Avalanche, and no one would ever know any differently. 

I know you're hurt, I know it's my fault But I've kept "I'm sorry" locked in a vault

You called Sid late one night in March. He answered quickly, because he always did when you or Nate called, even though it was after midnight in Pittsburgh.

“Sid, I don’t know what to do anymore,” you had cried, with Cox curled up next to you on the couch in the dark. Nate was asleep upstairs, gone to bed early for the first time in a long time. Cox heard your tears and shoved his face into your hand, asking for attention, letting you use him as comfort. You petted him absently as you told Sid everything. And Sid listened, even as you told him stories of the season he already knew, told to him by Nate in similar late night phone conversations, even as it ticked past 1 in the morning in Denver. Sid waited until you finished talking before responding, spewing sympathy and advice that you only half listened to, still caught up in your thoughts. 

In the best days of your relationship and in your worst, you didn’t know what you would do without Sid.

You thought back to the first summer you visited Nate in Cole Harbour. You hadn’t gone the first summer after you’d started dating, as you’d only been together a couple of months, although Nate had begged you pretty much the entire summer. The next summer, though, there was absolutely no getting out of visiting. 

You had never been to Canada before, and you had grown up spending your summers on a lake, but you were convinced nothing would ever compare to Nova Scotia. Nate had laughed at you when you ran out onto his deck, a wide smile on your face. You spun around to look up at him.

“I love it here,” you said. Nate laughed again.

“You’ve barely even been here. You haven’t seen the good stuff yet.”

“I have a house, water, and you, what else is there to see?” Nate chuckled fondly at you. 

You spent the day out on the water with Nate, Sid and the dogs. It was peaceful out there in the sun, the silence only occasionally broken by Sid’s ridiculous laugh or one of the dog’s barks. You were dozing in the sun when Nate came over to you.

“Come swimming with me for a bit.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m tanning, Nathan.” Sid laughed. Next thing you knew, you were being picked up and thrown over Nate’s shoulder. Sid laughed louder. Sometimes you really hated him and that fucking laugh. “Nate!” you shrieked. “Put me down!”

Nate simply said, “Okay,” before he was throwing you in the lake. You came up spluttering. Nate and Sid were both doubled over in laughter, and dogs were caught up in the excitement and barking. 

“Help me out,” you whined, reaching a hand out of the water. Nate took pity on you and grabbed your hand.

You pulled him headfirst down into the water. 

Sid came up to you on the dock on your last night in Cole Harbour. Nate was up at the house, getting you a blanket and more wine, and you were watching the stars.

“You’re really good for him, you know,” Sid said without preamble, settling next to you on the dock. You waited for him to continue. “I’ve known him for years, and I’ve never seen him as happy as he has been this week with you here.” You blushed. “And you should hear the way he talks about you on the phone, God, I didn’t know it was possible for anyone to get him out of his head and stop focusing on hockey, I don’t know how you do it.” He paused, gazing up at the clear sky.When he spoke again, his voice was soft. “Nate takes everything so seriously. He’s gotten pretty fucked up over bad relationships in the past. I was a little worried when I saw how fast he was falling for you, when he’d call or text me like a middle-school girl with a crush. But I don’t have to worry, because you two are so good together, like you’ve known each other forever, and will be together forever.” 

Nate chose that moment to reappear. “Talkin’ about me?” he asked, pushing Sid out of the way so he could sit next to you. 

“Only good things,” Sid smiled.

Nate draped his arm across your shoulders and the blanket over your legs. You leaned your head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” Nate whispered into your hair, brushing a kiss to the top of your head. 

Nate came downstairs not long after you hung up with Sid. He found you crying on the couch, trying to muffle your sobs into the sleeves of one of his Avalanche hoodies. He made a soft, wounded sound, and you startled. You didn’t have a chance to apologize– for waking Nate, for breaking down– before he was climbing onto the couch next to you. He pulled you into his lap wordlessly, kissing away your tears, holding you as you shook. 

He whispered sweet things to you as you calmed down, I’m sorrys and I love yous breaking the silence of the night. Cox whined, crawling his way into your lap as well. Nate’s heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, his breathing even, and you found yourself soothed by it. The two– well, three, if you counted the German Shepherd who was decidedly not a lap dog– fell asleep on the couch like that. When you woke up again, sunlight was streaming into the living room, and you were still safely wrapped up in Nate’s arms.

He looked younger, softer, in his sleep, the burden of being Nathan MacKinnon momentarily forgotten. You couldn’t help but stare, a soft smile on your face. Nate shifted under you a couple of minutes later, eyes blinking sleepily open. He grinned when he found you inches from his face, already watching him. 

“Good morning,” he whispered, stretching up to kiss you gently. “D’you want breakfast?”

You buried your face in Nate’s neck. “In a minute,” you mumbled. “Comfy.” Nate laughed, loud, and you felt it in every inch of your body that was touching his.

As you sat sipping your coffee in the kitchen later, watching Nate cook you breakfast, like he had for so long, you could almost convince yourself that everything was fine, that the stress fractures of your relationship weren’t on the verge of breaking completely. 

Some people say sorry to hear it's okay But I know it's not so you don't have to say That you understand 'cause I know you don't

In the living room where you had left your phone after last night’s phone call, you got a text. Then another. And another. Nate’s phone started ringing; his face went white, and he dropped the spatula he was using.

Confused, and starting to get worried, you set your coffee down and rushed to pick up your phone. The first thing you saw was a text from Mel, simply saying, “i’m so sorry.” Nate was still on the phone in the kitchen, speaking in an anxious hushed tone to whoever was on the other end. You ignored the handful of other texts you had received in favor of looking at your Instagram and Twitter notifications which were blowing up. You clicked on one with a shaky hand.

Your heart dropped. Your phone fell to the floor with a clatter. 

In the kitchen, Nate’s voice rose, but you couldn’t hear any of the words he was saying over the pounding of your heart in your ears. 

You sank to the floor and picked up your phone again. You had been tagged in a series of pictures, all of Nate. There was Nate with a girl in a bar, with a girl in his lap, his arm wrapped around her waist, his lips on hers. There was more than one post, too, all dated, starting all the way back in November. All nights when Nate and the Avs were on road trips. Different cities, too, but always the same girl.

Blonder than you. Prettier than you. Better than you, apparently.

There were dozens of pictures. Some were dark and kind of blurry, but all were unmistakably Nate. 

You scrolled through all of the pictures again. Cox whined next to you. Nate still hadn’t left the kitchen, but you knew he had been tagged in all of the posts too. Texts and notifications were still rolling into your phone, from friends and family and strangers. You turned your phone off.

Then Nate was crouching in front of you, brushing your tears away. You hadn’t even realized you had been crying. You scrambled away from Nate’s touch like it burned you; his hand stayed outstretched in the air.

Just ten minutes ago, you had been beginning to think that things could get better again, that you could fix the damage in Nate, in your relationship. Now, everything you had known for the last two and a half years lay shattered at your feet, spread out for the whole world to see.

“You weren’t supposed to find out like this,” Nate murmured.

A hysterical laugh forced its way out of your throat. Your hands were still shaking, but your anxiousness had just been replaced with anger. “I wasn’t supposed to find out like this, or I wasn’t supposed to find out at all?”

Nate flinched a little, and you felt a brief flash of vindication. “I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what, Nathan? Didn’t mean for me to find out, for the whole world to find out? Or you didn’t mean to say it like that? Like you were just waiting for the right time to tell me, but it never worked out?” Nate had stood up again, but he wasn’t looking at you. “God, I was sitting around like a fool all season, waiting for you to call me, but of course you never did, because you had found someone better than me. Did she get to go to games, too, when you were flying her all across the country?”

Nate was flushed with anger now too. “You don’t understand-”

You cut him off. “No, Nate, I don’t fucking understand. I thought, I don’t know, maybe the past two years actually meant something. So tell me, make me understand, because you lost me a long time ago.”

“Just shut up!” You took a step back from Nate, though he hadn’t moved. You weren’t sure Nate had ever raised his voice at you. “We were in Ottawa in the beginning of November, and we all went out to a bar because we finally got a fucking win. She started flirting, and she had no idea who we were, and it was so nice to meet someone and not have the expectation of being Nathan fucking MacKinnon. I never had to listen to her lie to me about how well I played or some shit about how the team would figure it out, that we could get better.”

“Did all the boys know?” you whispered. “Have you all just been laughing at me behind my back all season, while I’ve been blindly in love with a boy who’s been flying another girl to all of his road games?”

Nate paled and took a half-step in your direction. You backed up again, until your knees hit the couch. “No, they- they knew I was taking the season hard, I guess, so they gave me space. Gabe might’ve been getting suspicious, but I- they would never do that to you.”

“Excuse me for not believing that. I believed you would never cheat on me, either, but here we are.” You turned to leave the room. 

“If you’d just-” Nate was angry again. You spun around, your heartbreak fanning the flames of your own anger.

“If I’d just what, Nate? Stopped caring about you and hockey? Stopped supporting you? Stopped caring about us?” Your voice broke, and you blinked back the tears burning behind your eyes. You had started out yelling again, but now your voice was quiet. “I’m sorry I tried, Nathan. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you.”

You turned again, started making your way towards the stairs. 

“Wait, Y/N, please.” Nate’s voice came out desperate, like he was choking back tears. You couldn’t possibly understand why; he had done this to himself. “I never actually slept with her.”

“Good for you, Nate.” You let out a humorless laugh. “I hope the PR team has fun trying to save you and your fuck-ups. The posterboy of the Colorado Avalanche showing his true colors at last.”

Nate finally let you turn and make your way upstairs. He didn’t follow as you made your way into the bedroom and packed a bag with enough clothes to last you until the next road trip. He was sitting on the couch, stiff and tense, but he jumped up when you came back down the stairs. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, starting to reach out to grab your arm, but stopping himself at the last second, grasping at the air instead. “Please, Y/N.”

“I don’t know, Nate,” you sighed. “But I can’t stay here. I’ll be back to get the rest of my stuff while you’re on your next road trip. Say hi to your other girlfriend for me.”

Nate followed you outside. Cox barked once as you climbed into your car. “But-but you live here, with us! Please, let me fix this.”

You turned to Nate one last time. “You know, you could have fixed everything else that screwed us up this season. I really thought we could’ve been fine. But this, Nate? I don’t know anymore.” 

Nate flinched as your car door slammed. You watched in your rearview mirror as you drove away. His hands were shoved in his pockets, unmoving, and then he was out of sight. 

You drove aimlessly around Denver for a while. You let yourself get lost before you found somewhere quiet to pull over. Except, the breakdown, the tears, never came. Instead, you felt numb and hollow. You had really been foolish enough to believe that you could love Nate through everything, and that he would love you back. Hadn’t Sid said it seemed like you would be together forever?

When Nate showed up at the game the next night with a fresh black eye, no one commented on it. No one commented on EJ’s freshly bruised knuckles, either.

The season ended quietly. The Avs had managed to turn the season around, stop the bleeding, but they never quite could fix the damage. You had moved out of Nate’s house after the fight. You rarely saw each other anymore, but you didn’t tell him you kept going to games until the very end. You just couldn’t keep yourself away, no matter how much it hurt to watch him down on the ice.  

Nate went home to Cole Harbour. You stayed in Denver. 

Sometimes you thought back to the beginning of your relationship with Nate. You remembered what it was like when you first met, when Nate was still shy and quiet. It had been so stupidly fucking cliche, too: in a goddamn Starbucks. 

You listened to the man next to you in line rattle off a list of coffee orders, ranging from basic to borderline ridiculous. The baristas were already beginning to look overwhelmed as the cups lined up. He had the grace to look sheepish, at least, and tucked what looked like a ten dollar bill into their tip jar. You didn’t pay him much more mind after that, stepping to the side and trying your hardest to stay out of the way of other patrons while you waited. Then your grandmother had called, asking for technology help, even though you were hundreds of miles away from home, and you had other family that literally lived five minutes away from her. You were distracted and missed that a barista had called your name. You were still caught up with your phone and didn’t realize until someone was tapping you on the shoulder and tentatively saying your name.

You looked up, surprised, and your entire field of vision was filled with one very blond, blue-eyed, broad-shouldered man. First, you made the connection to him being the one with the list of coffee orders in line next to you, and then, that the man standing in front of you, struggling to balance several coffee carriers, was Nathan MacKinnon. 

“I grabbed your coffee by mistake,” he said. “It got mixed in with all our orders, and I only just noticed it had a different name on it. I’m really sorry.”

You smiled, taking your coffee. “It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it. I didn’t even hear them call my name.” Nate still looked apologetic. “Did you lose a bet or something?” you asked then, looking at the stack of coffee cups Nate still held. 

He grinned at you. “Something like that.”

You had left the Starbucks that day with Nate’s phone number. At the time, you had no real intent to use it; you didn’t kid yourself. Nathan MacKinnon was a former first-overall draft pick, hero of the Colorado Avalanche, and you were just some girl whose coffee he accidentally stole. 

Nate texted you first. He did that a lot in the beginning. He was always a little awkward– a life spent focused on hockey meant that he wasn’t the best at small talk– but he was sweet and could make you laugh.

When he first asked you out, you said no. You had watched his face fall, watched him bite his lip and take a step back from you. You felt a surprising rush of sadness settle in your chest as Nate’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You had said no because you didn’t want to be just another girl, another fling that meant nothing. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if that’s all you would be to Nate, and you were a little scared by how willing you were to see how far it could go. 

“Ask me again in a couple weeks,” you said softly. Nate startled, still looking a little bit like he wanted to run. You looked up at him fondly.

Life went on in Denver that summer without Nate. You went to work. You went home to your empty apartment. Really, it wasn’t all that different from life with Nate in Denver, at least not in the last couple of months. You texted with Sid and Sarah every once in a while, but you got complete radio silence from Nate. Tyson Barrie texted you a video of Cox and Ralph playing one day in mid-July, and you could hear Nate laughing somewhere in the background. You didn’t reply. You didn’t want to admit to how many times you watched the video, just to hear Nate’s laugh again, either. 

“You are not getting my dog a fucking-what it’s called? A puppuccino?” Nate gripped his iced black cold brew tightly in his hand and glared at you. Cox sat patiently at your feet, eyeing the cup of whipped cream in your hand and licking his lips eagerly.

“It’s just whipped cream, babe! And, look, he likes them!” 

Nate raised an eyebrow at you. You had forgotten that the trips you took to Starbucks with Cox while the boys were on road trips were secret. “Y/N.” Nate crouched down and squished Cox’s face. Cox looked unimpressed. “This is a highly trained guard dog. He does not need any fucking whipped cream.” Cox’s tongue darted out and licked Nate’s nose. It was Nate’s turn to look unimpressed.

You bent down to give Cox his puppuccino. He lapped it up excitedly, getting whipped cream all over his nose and whiskers. Nate rolled his eyes at the both of you. 

“You’re not allowed to spoil our children.” You paused, still watching Cox try and get the last of the whipped cream out of the cup. Nate had never mentioned kids before, but you sometimes watched the smile he had when he played with Linnea or Sophie, even though he was still a little terrified of holding a baby. You looked at him, but he was still watching Cox calmly.

“Are you saying that Cox isn’t already your son?” you asked, only deflecting a little, and trying very hard to not picture Nate with a tiny baby of your own. 

Nate scoffed. You both looked down at Cox, who had rolled onto his back, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. “Besides,” he said, tugging you closer by your hips, “I think Cox will be great with kids, and there’s only one way to find out.”

You just rolled your eyes.

You always had to grit your teeth and smile when someone heard that you weren’t originally from Denver and asked, pretty much without fail, if you had moved for Nate. The answer was always that you had moved for work and had met Nate by chance. If Nate was a part of the conversation, he would chip in that he’d had to work to even get you to consider dating him. He’d always kiss you after that, on the forehead, on the cheek, and he’d look at you like he was the lucky one. And you could look into his eyes and forget for a moment that you’d been upset.

You always wondered why everyone assumed you had dropped your life, your family and friends and your hometown just to follow Nate and his hockey career. Now, you were wondering if you were ready to drop your life, your friends, and everything you loved about Denver just to get away from Nate and his hockey career. 

You didn’t hear from Nate when he returned to Denver for training camp. It hurt in a way you couldn’t articulate, a bone-deep ache, a hollowness that you had never felt before, the fear that you had both let your relationship go past the point of no return while neither of you were paying attention. You thought wildly as you laid in bed alone, if you would ever see Nate again, be able to look him in the eyes and tell him you loved him one more time.

Because you did. You still loved Nate, maybe always would, and you missed him, spent the whole summer missing him, had missed him long before he went back to Cole Harbour by himself. You were terrified that you lost the best relationship you’d ever had. You were too scared to reach out to him yourself, half-sure that he’d never even respond, and that would be all you needed to know that you had reached the end. 

You watched the boys’ Instagram stories as they went golfing everyday after practice. You watched Nate smile and laugh with Gabe and Burky, though you noticed that the smiles never quite seemed to reach his eyes. You looked at the Avs’ social medias every day for the pictures they inevitably posted of Nate. He never seemed to be smiling. You would drive down near the Pepsi Center, only to see his face plastered everywhere. Seeing Nathan MacKinnon around Denver seemed unavoidable; he was on posters and on shirts and jerseys. Seeing Nate, though? Your Nate, with the lisp and the love for dogs, who yelled at his teammates on Fortnite and loved his family more than anything? You weren’t sure you’d ever see him again. 

So whether you kiss me or you close the door Just know that I'm better than I was before

You were surprised when someone knocked on your apartment door one night after dinner, only a couple of days before the regular season began. You were even more surprised when you pulled open the door to see Nate. He startled a little when you opened the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb, allowing yourself to just look at him.

His summer tan had already started to fade. He was wearing jeans, but an old Avs T-shirt, and he was picking at the fraying hem. He was no longer as lean as he was the last time you’d seen him towards the end of the season, but he looked exhausted the same way he did in the final stretch.

It hurt to look at him for long, so you cleared your throat, tore your gaze away from the dark circles under his eyes. Nate shook himself a little, looked away from the 29 on your right shoulder. You had forgotten that you had put on an old, stolen hoodie after work. For a while, it had still smelled like him, but now it didn’t smell like anything. 

“I thought you gave everything of mine back,” was the first thing he said.

You shrugged, tugging the sleeves of Nate’s hoodie over your hands. “Couldn’t bring myself to give it up.” You looked back at Nate. He looked pained. “What’re you doing here, Nate?” The exhaustion of the last couple months, the heartbreak, the worry, showed in your voice.

“I just-I wanted to see you. Wanted to try and explain, if you wanted to listen. I know I’ll never get the words right, and you could slam the door in my face right now, and I wouldn’t blame you. And if you do, I’ll leave you alone. But if you don’t, I will spend the rest of my life apologizing, trying to show you how much I love you.”

You covered your mouth to cover the sob that rose out of your chest. Nate’s eyes snapped up to yours, those bright blue eyes that you still loved so much, and he looked panicked. “Nate, I-”

“Look, if I were you, I’d hate me. Hell, EJ socked me, and I thought Sid was gonna leave me out on the lake to die when I first flew home. If you spend the rest of your life hating me, it’s all on me. You probably wouldn’t be the only one. But, fuck, Cox misses you. I miss you.” Nate stepped closer, reached out to brush his thumb across your cheekbone. 

You let yourself revel in that touch for a moment before you took a step back, clutching your door for support. “I spent all summer wondering if we were over, Nate. Wondering what I could’ve done differently.” Nate bit his lip. He was still standing in the hallway outside your apartment. You hadn’t invited him in, and you weren’t sure you were going to at all. “I don’t know if I can do this again. If I can fall in love with you, be in love with you, and watch you go off on road trips and wonder if I can ever trust you again. I don’t know if I can do this,” you repeated. 

Nate closed his eyes, seemed to be steeling himself for something. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. And I know it’s not enough, will never be enough, and I’m sorry for that, too.”

You hesitated. Nate blinked once, twice, fidgeted with the hem of his T-shirt again. It would be so easy, you thought, to let him back into your life. 

You closed the door.

The last thing you saw was Nate’s face, hurt but resigned. You leaned back against your door, slid down to the floor, and let the tears that had been burning under the surface for months out.

Part Two! 

[morning-softness]

For this most recent round of writing asks, how about: 3, 26, and/or 28? Whichever you're up to answering~

Answering from this list

3. How would you describe your writing style?

Hmm. I suppose ‘immersive.’ When I write, I typically imagine scenes like little video clips in my head and then basically transcribe what happens. So writing is an immersive experience for me, and I hope that when people read my writing they can also feel immersed in the story as if they were experiencing it. I want to create stories you can live in.

On a more technical level, I tend to use a lot of adjectives and adverbs. I also tend to have long sentences held together by commas, dashes, semicolons, and parentheses, because every thought has more information connected to it. On the very roughest draft I’ll often have a sentence followed by an alternative phrasing of the same sentence in parentheses. Then on each successive draft I go back and pare sentences and paragraphs down, break them up, and polish them more so it’s easier for other people to read and follow.

26. What would you describe as OOC?

I mostly write for TMA fandom so here are a few of my TMA fanfic pet peeves:

I dislike when anyone writes Jon as 100% a skeptic. He’s not. He has firsthand experience of the supernatural. He takes the threat of Leitners and Jane Prentiss so seriously that Elias (Jonah) has to remind him that the purpose of the Institute is to “record and study, not interfere or contain.” (And this is despite the fact that Jon’s intentionally trying to hide just how much he believes all of the tape recorder statements because he’s being watched by a malevolent force.) The fact that Jon tries to research and find supporting evidence for the statements rather than immediately taking everything at face value does not make him a skeptic who categorically rejects the supernatural. Sasha is actually the one who’s a self-declared skeptic, despite having worked in Artifact Storage (and Jon says that there are things in there that would have convinced him even if he hadn’t already had his own supernatural experience). In episode 26, Sasha says “I’ve always considered myself a bit of a sceptic, and until recently I’d have said working at the Institute only made me more so.” So why is it only Jon who gets the hardcore skeptic adaptations?

I also dislike fic that flattens Tim down to ‘the funny guy’ (season 1) or ‘the angry guy’ (season 2-3). He’s a layered character. He’s friendly, charismatic, and has a sense of humor, but he has few close friends and doesn’t open up easily about the things that are most important to him; he’s smart and practical, he initially goes above and beyond at finding supporting information for the statements and later he tries to explore potential loopholes to leave the Institute (like taking an indefinite vacation, or getting Elias/Jonah angry enough to fire him); he cares deeply about his friends which is why he feels so betrayed by Jon’s actions in Season 2 and so upset by the fact that Sasha was replaced without him noticing; he carries a lot of grief and anger, but tries to find ways to translate those feelings into meaningful action; and he’s brave enough to die to destroy the Circus and stop the Unknowing.

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

1. Don’t worry so much about doing things the ‘correct way’ or the way other people do them, even people you admire. Figure out what works best for you.

2. You’ll get a lot farther if you find your limitations and then work with or around them, instead of beating yourself up over what you can’t do.

3. Let go of the idea that everything you write needs to be good enough to publish, especially right away. First it needs to exist. Then you can figure out how to make it better.

(I know it’s the same advice I gave back in March for the Fanfic Writing Ask Game, but I stand by it. I’ve seen writing advice from various published authors and so many times it’s presented as “the one best way to write” even though every one of them will tell you something different. There is no one best way, and conversely there’s no wrong way to write—as long as you’re getting the words down. So experiment, find what works for you, and don’t let anyone else make you feel bad about it.)

[moongoddesskiana]

I'm just thinking about AU where you keep elements from different canons for maximum angst as well as maximum 'you done fucked up my fave' because the writers really don't understand my fave's origin story

So Jason recently left the Titans (have I ever watched more than the first 3 eps no but I've seen enough clips and fanvids) and is back to working with Bruce. They are working on a case where the criminal has diplomatic immunity, Jason goes to confront the dude who proceeds to fall off the balcony (also for kicks the dude said that no one was going to believe that Jason had nothing to do with it when Jason tried to save him and he shoved Jason off) and dies.

After this Jason is forced to go to therapy where Leslie (whom he already knows and trusts) helps him a bit though he is still very much struggling. Jason then over hears Bruce say that Jason is being too rough and is going to be taken off active duty, Jason then runs out of the manor and into Crime Alley. Bruce tracks him down and they have a conversation like the one in Titans and Jason asks Bruce not to give up on him and that he had nothing to do with the dude's death.

Not sure if I'm gonna have Bruce believe him or not, but Bruce thinks this is for the best and doesn't realize how much this fucks up Jason and worsens his feelings of being rejected. As Jason leaves the alley but is still in the neighborhood an old neighbor flags him down saying they have some of his family's old things. Jason sneaks back into his room and goes over everything in the box hoping to find some of his mom's old things, what Jason actually finds is his birth certificate. The mother's name starting with an S but otherwise unreadable. Jason doesn't feel like he has anyone to go to and tries to track down his bio mom.

Cross referencing Willis addressbook he finds 3 possibilities, I'm gonna be lazy and say that Sheila was in town for like enough time for Jason to find her in Gotham. Meanwhile Joker broke out of Arkham and Batman's on the case and thinks that Sheila's job's local warehouse known to not usually be in use is Joker's next move. Sheila tells Jason she has to go to a meeting but to meet up later when Bruce runs into Jason.

Bruce asks Jason where he's been and what is he doing on a Joker case (it's been like a week since Jason left the manor only leaving a note saying that basically reads I know when I'm not wanted don't do a obligatory search.). Jason for a second thought Bruce had been looking for him and that he actually cared until he asked what Jason was doing on a case, Jason's sense of rejection escalates.

Bruce says that Sheila workplace might be in trouble but that he was also checking out another lead. Jason tracks down Sheila to warn her that the Joker might be up to something using her work's warehouse, she's like sure kid uh huh until he shows he the Robin suit. Then Sheila says to help her search the warehouse before her meeting which was to happen at the warehouse so that they would know if anything bad was inside.

Jason says that he should call in Batman just in case when they round a corner in the warehouse and the Joker is there. Jason (in Robin suit) turns to Shelia to yell at her to run when she pulls out a gun and points it at Jason telling him "sorry kid looks like you trusted the wrong person this time."

Jason is then tied up and beaten with a crowbar, whilst Sheila sits back and smokes on a nearby crate. Jason goes unconscious and Sheila is tied to the warehouse while the Joker says there can be no witnesses. Jason tries to get them both out of there while he struggles to move, they make it to the door when he hears a timer seconds away from zero while Sheila tries to open the door. Jason covers her body with his own while resigning himself to death. The warehouse explodes.

First responders are already on the scene when Bruce gets there. Sheila is alive long enough to tell Batman that Jason was a good kid, a better kid than one she thought she would make. The first responders found Jason before Bruce did, Robin was pronounced dead on arrival.

Everything is happening in between season 2 and 3 btw, well at least until Red Hood arrives.

Dick hears about the explosion over the news and rushes to Gotham, team in hand. They miss the funeral. Dick finds out that Jason had been missing for a week before that and is pissed Bruce didn't tell him. A month later Tim forces his way into Robin and gets assistance from the Titans who welcome him with open arms.

3 months after his death Jason crawls out of his grave, Scarecrow and the League of Assassins are working together (don't ask why idk either) and Jason stumbles across a meeting. Someone notices Jason isn't responding properly and they began experimenting on him eventually realizing that one of Scarecrow's toxins makes him less fearful and respond to orders more. Talia grows to give a shit and puts him in a Lazarus Pit before she is sent away but still partly in charge. Ra's says to drug him before he wakes up and to make Jason reliant on the drugs and on the League of Assassins.

Jason is trained up for a year before they put him on the scene as a figurehead but not really in charge of anything Red Hood. Jason tries to keep civilian casualties as low as he can, tries to keep things centered on ending Gotham's crime and criminals. He makes his number one rule no drugs to kids, no harm to children, no exceptions.

Two lackeys who drugged Robin were made as examples. Jason himself was still force fed Scarecrow's toxin every day.

The code name Red Hood was one of the few things that he had been given control over a nice little Fuck you to the Joker (still alive and kicking) which he had a do not engage order for so he couldn't kill the guy himself (not that he thought he would be able to even with the toxin). Jason tries to use it as a force of change, a force of good for Gotham. Sometimes when the drugs were wearing off he wondered how much harm he was doing compared to good, and how easily he killed criminals.

The league of assassin's pulls out of Gotham for reasons Jason doesn't know about, Jason tries to get clean while an imposter with meta abilities impersonated Red Hood in order to get to Hank and does Gotham harm. The titans have been in town for most of the time btw. The meta, a telepathic shapeshifter, bumped into Jason read his mind and figured Jason Todd would be a good cover for them while they did this and they could implant memories into Jason later and no evidence would lead back to them especially because of Jason laying low and trying to detox alone.

So yeah Jason still murders people but the stuff in the show making someone snap their neck, civilian casualties that shouldn't have happened and killing Hank, that was a meta in this because I can't see even a very fucked up Jason doing those things.

Everyday the meta tracks Jason down reads his mind and implants new memories. Jason tries to get help but that keeps getting stopped or people refuse to help him for the things they think he did.

The meta is taken into custody when someone realizes that that isn't Jason because either he called one of them or one of them saw him one the street collapsing. This leads to so much confusion epically since Jason has two sets of memories the stuff he did do (duffle bag of heads) and things he didn't do (kill Hank). In the process of sorting his memories the Titans realize how much they fucked up with Jason especially when they hear him say 'Arkham is to good for me, I need to be put down, I'm poison.' After hearing him whimper in his sleep begging Bruce not to put him in Arkham, to not leave him with the Joker.

Jason and Tim mostly get along and become siblings, but Gar is the only Titan who didn't really hurt my fave from what I know. The rest didn't really treat Jason as one of them and didn't try to understand him or empathize. I heard that Kori was also okay with him but then I saw a clip from 3x08 and I was like :/

Don't have anything else currently for this idea

[ghstandpucks]

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon

A.N.: Hi everyone! So I’ve decided to write a short story with Nathan MacKinnon. Y/N is a figure skater who becomes the Avs’ new skating coach. This chapter basically just sets it up. The title is an ode to my favorite figure skating movie (the only one I can actually watch without rolling my eyes). I myself was a competitive figure skater, so the terms are accurate. 

Also, shout out to @bqstqnbruin​ for allowing me to bounce this idea off of her! If you have not read her stories, I suggest you check them out! Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you all think! 

ch. 1

Prologue 

As your music came to it’s ending note, you popped out of your signature scratch spin and dug your toe pick into the ice, effectively stopping your momentum. With a backward bend and a hand reaching up toward the sky, you tried to catch your breath as you heard the crowd erupt around you. The whole rink was lifted with cheers as you held your pose five more seconds. Three, two, one, you counted to yourself as you straightened up, bringing your hand in the air to your beating heart. This had to be a dream. No way did you execute your routine as flawlessly as you felt. But as you smiled and waved to the crowd, picking up a few thrown bouquets of flowers off the ice as you skated toward your beaming coaches, it all became real.

You sat in the kiss and cry booth with your coaches Erica and Larry as you awaited your final scores. Sitting as properly and calmly as possible, you were freaking out on the inside. But you didn’t show it. You never showed it. As Erica had told you when you were 11 competing at your first junior nationals, the judges were always watching…and they were always judging. Off ice appearance was just as important as on ice performance.

           You held your breath and gripped your coach’s hands tightly as your scores appeared on the board. You were the last skater of the event, the favorite to win. Your placement would be final, and you were already second after the short program. One by one the judges scores showed, and you could not believe your eyes. They were what you needed, and the crowd erupted again as a first place was placed on the screen by your name. You jumped off the bench seat with your coaches and were immediately wrapped in hugs with happy tears streaming down your cheeks.

           Moments later, you were standing on top of the podium with a bouquet in your hands and the United States flag wrapped around your shoulders, a gold medal being placed around your neck. You were smiling so wide your cheeks were hurting. At 20 years old, you were heading toward the end of your single women’s figure skating career and there was no better way then to end it than this. For you, Y/N Y/L/N, were now an Olympic Gold Medalist.

~ ~ ~

           The following year, you skated your last performance at the World Championship, going out with the best routine you had ever skated. Your retirement year was full of gold medals as you went out gracefully on top. Single female figure skating careers were never long. By the time you reached 22 you were considered old and the announcers speculated when your last skate would be. Even at 21, you felt like a veteran senior at competitions. After winning the gold at the Olympics though, you had become America’s sweetheart. Your retirement at 21 was one that had stands filled with fans, family and friends. Everything you had worked for since you were 4, was coming to an end.

           Continuing with skating, you did shows and exhibitions like every recently retired successful skater does. You traveled with Smucker’s Stars on Ice tour, performed at Scott Hamilton’s Friends on Ice, attended galas, spoke at charity events, and even guest hosted competitions. So when the president of the United States Figure Skating association approached you to be a spokesperson and participant for a new program they were rolling out, you jumped at the opportunity to stay on the ice. Ice was comforting, being at a rink felt like home.

           For the skating season of 2020/2021, USFS was partnering with the NHL. Retired skaters who wanted to participate would be assigned to a cooperating NHL team as a new skating coach. The idea was to provide figure skaters with a way to stay on the ice if they did not want to go into coaching figure skating themselves; as well as provide NHL teams with a new skilled pair of eyes, and footwork that could benefit a team’s skating performance. Though figure skaters could be looked at as dainty and fragile, they could turn on a dime, jump on any edge, and take a fall (without pads).

           That was how presently, the Colorado Avalanche were watching a short video on who their new skating coach would be. As soon as the words “Olympic champion” came out of Coach Bednar’s mouth, the team was curious. And as soon as they saw this petite figure skater on the screen, some chuckled that you would be the one to yell at them about their skating. Most were impressed by your routines though. Clean, sharp, and precise your movements were. Not to mention a handful thought you were good looking. One player in particular could not take his eyes away from the screen though, watching you with an intensity he usually reserved for studying game films. Nathan MacKinnon could not deny that he found you attractive, and his heart gave a small flutter when you laughed during an interview in the clip.

           When the video ended and the lights were turned back on, Coach Bednar got the teams attention. “This is Y/N Y/L/N. She will be our new skating coach for the season. USFS and the NHL have struck a deal for the 20/21 season to see how it goes. If it goes well, it will continue. Not only is this girl an amazing figure skater, but when I had the pleasure to met her at the conference, she was intelligent, kind, and well spoken. She is the spokesperson for this new initiative. She was placed with us because as coaches, we chose her. With all her accolades, I do not need to tell you how many other participating teams also tried to acquire her. USFS thought her personality would work best with our staff, as well as all of you. You will treat her with the respect you have for any coach on this team. If I hear a negative word about Coach Y/L/N out of any of you, you will miss the home opener. She is to be taken seriously, and treated with respect. Do I make myself clear?” Bednar asked, and the team nodded their heads and agreed. “Good. She will be here on Monday for summer camp. Have a nice weekend,” he dismissed his team.

           Nate was gathering his things when Gabriel Landeskog clapped him on his shoulder. “This should be interesting,” he spoke with a smile. Nate chuckled and turned toward him.

           “You can say that again,” he said as Tyson Jost joined them as they walked out of the rink.

           “She’s hot,” Tyson said, matter of fact, to which his captain smacked him upside the head.

           “She’s your coach now so behave,” he huffed, though he was laughing. He had seen the way Nate watched the film, and had a feeling that the center was thinking the same thing as Tyson. The younger man rubbed the back of his head dramatically, and said his good byes to his teammates. When it was back to just the two of them, Gabe turned his attention to his alternate captain. “What are you thinking about this figure skater?” he asked in amusement. Nate tried to gather his thoughts. He hadn’t even met the girl and yet the thought of her being at practice tomorrow made his hands clam up. He tried to hid this from his friend as he busied himself finding his car keys.

           “I’m thinking that she’s more decorated than any of us. Five National championships, three World championships, and an Olympic gold medal. I feel very unaccomplished,” he spoke. Gabe chuckled and nodded.

           “I’m sure that’s exactly what your thinking. See you tomorrow Nate,” Gabe said. Leave it to Nate to remember the skater’s stats before he even met them. He was interested to see how this would play out.

[cruelfeline]

Agh, it got so long I had to read-more it; no one look at this; I just had to get it out of my mind, but don’t look at it just ignore this and go examine a pretty nature photo; honestly these just keep getting worse why does this keep happening? And I hate dialogue. And I hate characterization. Ugghhh... just insert a Mermista groan here.

also a more mature Catra helping Hordak on his journey provides me with happiness don’t judge me

Please consider, a concept:

A few months have passed since Prime’s demise. Reconstruction of Etheria’s damaged settlements is well underway, and all parties involved have gotten... if not entirely comfortable with one another, then at least able to interact with civility. Enough so that, when Entrapta and Bow end up delayed on one of their interplanetary trips, Hordak is only moderately uneasy about heading off to Bright Moon on his own. Oh, of course he’d rather wait for Entrapta, but certain planned meetings (dictated by Etheria’s terribly inconvenient seasons) simply cannot be delayed. So off he goes, determined to maintain decorum and dignity and uphold his end of all relevant treaties. He is received by Glimmer, Adora, and Catra. The other Princesses are all otherwise engaged (with what, he cares little, though he is admittedly amused to learn that Mermista and Perfuma are occupied with an apparently disastrous seaweed-related snafu). So it is the four of them against a whole mess of administrative work.

The girls, for their part, are equally uneasy but likewise determined to proceed as usual (Adora and Catra seeming particularly determined). They meet Hordak’s reserved politeness with a tentative poise of their own, and the group’s work commences.

And for a number of days, it goes fairly well. Even Glimmer has to admit that, whatever anyone’s misgivings about how an Entrapta-less Hordak might behave, things are running smoothly. She maintains control of the meetings, guiding them through agenda after agenda, while Adora and Catra provide input based upon their recent scouting trips to Etheria’s various corners. Hordak rounds the discussions out with whatever technological information is relevant. Their sessions run long most nights (too long, if Catra were asked her opinion on the matter, which she pointedly is not), but they are productive. The four of them get an impressive amount of work done, and all without any tense moments or uncomfortable quarrels. One might even say that they are getting along quite well, all things considered.

In fact, Catra is nearly certain that, when Adora mentions appreciating the work of some Dryl-made construction bots in a seaside village, Hordak subtly quirks his lips in what a careful observer could term a smile.

So the three girls are legitimately stunned when, about three-quarters of the way through their intended time together, Hordak’s behavior abruptly changes. His calm demeanor turns sullen and tense. Previously comprehensive explanations gain a taciturn edge, eventually devolving into clipped, half-snarled responses and sneered refusals to provide clarification. More and more often, words are accompanied by the baring of red teeth and the angry glare of red eyes. 

Glimmer is... less than pleased, but between her own determination to make this treaty work and Adora’s dogged, somewhat frantic optimism, she strives to maintain civility long enough to get through the last few days. But, well... limits are limits. And limits are surpassed when, one evening, Hordak furiously declares that he has lost patience with their “embarrassing incompetence” and, with nary another word, storms out of the conference room. 

“That’s it! How dare he?!”

Glimmer promptly explodes, and Catra spends the next few minutes watching Adora try to quiet what is proving to be a very loud, very angry, moderately uncouth Queenly rant. It is in the midst of this rant that Adora catches her eye and, with a quiet groan and a nod and a mental wish of good luck, Catra slips away with Melog silently following at her heels. 

“I guess this is better than dealing with Sparkles,” she mutters to herself as she stands at the door to Hordak’s temporary quarters. Beside her, Melog trills encouragement, and she sighs. They’re right, of course: between the two of them, Adora has more experience dealing with an upset Glimmer. And Catra... okay, so she doesn’t have “experience dealing with an upset Hordak.” Not... not good experience. But she worked with him for nearly a year. And, given what she’s seen, what she knows... she has a fair idea of what’s been happening. She’d been quietly hoping that it would work itself out, or that it wouldn’t become enough of a problem to cause trouble before they finished their work, but alas: it seems that that sort of luck just isn’t on their side.

Which, given the fact that Hordak seems to have the worst luck of anyone she knows, probably should have been something she’d seen coming.

Melog trills again, adding a gentle headbutt this time.

“Okay, okay... give me a second.”

She takes a breath, lifts a hand to knock, grimaces, and drops said hand. She clears her throat.

“Hordak?”

Nothing. She frowns and tries again.

“Hordak? Are you-”

“Leave.”

His snarl is all-too familiar, and even muffled through a door, it causes her hackles to rise, her ears to pin back, her tail to lash.

“Look, I just-”

“Go. Away.”

She grits her teeth, clenches her fists, and turns away, ready to return downstairs with nothing to show for her efforts but a bad mood. Next to her, Melog meows in protest. She rounds on them.

“What? If he wants to be a jerk about it, then that’s his problem! Besides, what am I supposed to do? Break down the door?”

And she resumes making her way back to the staircase, ignoring Melog’s continued protest (which, come to think of it, sounds fairly alarmed, but... well, what is she to do?) and... she freezes. The world around her is starting to shimmer. She knows that shimmer: teleportation via alien cat.

“Wait! I said-!”

And just like that, they’re in his room, and though Catra’s first instinct is to make her displeasure very loudly known, said instinct quickly fades at the sight of Hordak.

“Oh, damn it.”

From his place on the floor, crumpled in a sweating, trembling heap, Hordak looks up at the intrusion. His eyes widen, face twisting with fury as he prepares to shout what Catra predicts will be his trademark “get out,” only to choke up and curl in on himself as some sort of painful spasm races through him. 

Once upon a time, this sight might have spurred Catra into a bout of cruel gloating, but circumstances are vastly different today. 

Today, before either of them can really take stock of what is happening, she helps him up and half-leads, half-carries him to the corner sofa, depositing him with a strained grunt before taking a step back and giving him a moment to collect himself. Which he does while glaring at her.

For some time, the only sound between them is the ugly rasp of Hordak’s panting, then: “Get. Out.”

Ah. There it is. As expected. As anticipated. Catra’s ears flick at the command.

A part of her still bristles at his snarling, at his combative ire, at his accusatory glare... but a different part notices instead how that glare comes through dull eyes, how that snarling fades into exhausted panting, how he’s still trembling, even before his very unwanted audience. As the seconds pass, this part maintains its position at the forefront of her mind, until:

“You want some water?”

“...”

“...”

“...what?”

There’s a sudden lightness to her thoughts.

“I’m gonna get you some water. Just... stay there, okay?”

Melog punctuates her words with a happy chirp before providing the necessary teleport. A minute later, they’re back from the kitchens, glass of cool water in hand. Hordak remains where they left him, though he actually gives a bit of a start when they reappear. The momentary surprise disappears under a scowl as Catra holds the glass out to him.

He curls his lip. He doesn’t take it.

Catra remains steady. Next to her, Melog sits, tail waving a constant, slow path in the air.

Hordak bares his teeth.

“I do not require your pity, Catra.”

“Good, ‘cause all I’ve got is this glass of water.”

He gapes at her.

“Which, y’know, you should take. Because my arm is getting tired.”

His expression closes off again in another scowl (he never did see the humor in her sass, did he?), but after a few more moments, Hordak relents. Slowly, clearly trying to keep his hand from trembling too much, he takes the offered glass.

Catra sighs and, suddenly drained, sits down on the ground a few feet away from him, resting her back against the arm of the sofa. Melog stretches out beside her, and Catra turns her back to Hordak to focus on providing the desired belly rub. She swivels an ear towards him, listening for him to finish draining the glass. He does so. 

She can hear that his breath has lost that ugly rasp, and a tightness in her chest that she hadn’t been aware of loosens.

“So,” she begins, trying to keep her tone casual, “do you... need to call Entrapta? Is it... is it your-”

“Entrapta is currently beyond the reach of our communication modules.” She’d steeled herself for another snarled response, but his voice is calm, almost quiet. “And no; it is not my armor.”

“...oh.”

A minute passes. Two. Catra starts to tentatively turn around, wishing to steal a glance, but Melog thrusts their head into her lap and refocuses her gaze downwards. Another minute passes, then:

“It... it has proven somewhat...” He starts, stops, starts again. Stops again. Something that is not pain chokes his words, and though she wants to somehow encourage him, a soft rumble from Melog compels her to wait.

“Even with the armor, there are times that I... have difficulties.” He is breathing quicker again, she can hear; not quite panting, but definitely breathing quicker. In her lap, Melog seems attentive but otherwise unconcerned.

“Particularly during periods of higher stress, or exertion. Though,” he suddenly hisses, and Catra hears claws scrape against fabric, “hardly anything about our current work should merit this... exacerbation.”

He falls quiet, and for what feels like a long while, neither of them say anything. Melog’s soft purring fills the silence.

“Sparkles is mad,” Catra finally says, “Adora’s calming her down.”

This time, when she tries to turn her gaze back to him, Melog remains quiet. She watches Hordak nod, sees his ears droop.

“My behavior has been... unacceptable. I shall go request an audience with Queen Glimmer and make an apology-”

“Uh-uh.”

He frowns at her. 

“Oh, I mean, yeah! Definitely apologize. You were a jerk. But not now; you should rest first. I’ll go tell them that you’re not feeling great, and-”

His scowl returns.

“That is not necessary.”

She matches his frown with her own and scoffs. “Uh, according to what just happened, it is. What? You’re just gonna... pretend you’re fine and keep going?”

He looks like he wishes to say something less-than-polite, scowl deepening, but instead he turns away with a quiet huff. His ears droop even further.

“The terms of the treaty are fair, and it is my duty to adhere to them. This... lapse... aside, I am entirely capable of doing so.” He sighs and seems to will his ears into a more neutral position. “So yes: I shall ‘keep going.’” 

Catra blinks at him.

“That’s... really stupid.”

He blinks at her. 

“...what?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s stupid. What’s the point of it... pushing yourself like that when you’ve obviously had enough? If you need a break, then-”

Suddenly he snarls, he rounds on her, teeth and eyes glowing too-brightly, and she nearly jerks back. Melog tenses beside her but remains still.

“Then what?! I should inform the Queen, and she will suspend proceedings and accept needless delays for my comfort? That is... that is-”

He stops abruptly because she’s laughing, a dry sort of chuckle that might have infuriated him save for the fact that, when she notices his attention and stops, it’s to smile at him. Catra smiles at him, and the expression holds an honest sincerity that he’s never seen her exhibit before. His indignation fades; his aggressive posture deflates.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what she’ll do.”

At first, he only stares at her, as if uncertain that he has heard what he believes he has heard, but eventually Hordak swallows, glances away, glances back, presses his lips together.

“That is... highly illogical, given the circumstances. I am not... I do not...” His voice fades, and his ears all but wilt.

For the second time that day, Catra does something without thinking, settling herself into the seat next to him and placing a hand over one of his. It’s tense and cold to the touch; her thumb begins to stroke his knuckles without her realizing it. Hordak remains silent, lips slightly parted, transfixed. He does not even react when, on his other side, Melog presses their body gently against his leg.

“It’s a treaty, Hordak,” she begins, and her voice nearly strains for a moment when her brain catches up with her actions, but she steels her resolve and continues, “not a sentence. Not a punishment. I thought it was, at first. I figured it had to be, because of all we’ve done... all I’ve done. But it’s not.”

Catra remembers how she first felt, all those months ago, and she makes the connection between her old fears and his current ones, unconsciously pausing to squeeze his hand; her ears have pinned back, and her chest is suddenly tight again.

“It’s not supposed to... to hurt. For either of us. Y’know? I mean... I was out with the flu for a week a couple of months ago, and the worst thing that happened was having to choke down Perfuma’s gross herbal junk.” She huffs out a laugh, but there’s no amusement in it. “This...”

Now her voice does strain, and she has to stop for a moment before continuing. Beside her, Hordak is breathing quickly again and trying very hard to stop.

“This isn’t the Horde. Either Horde. How we feel matters. How... how you feel matters. So if you need a break, you get a break. ...okay?”

It takes him some time to answer, and in that time Catra realizes what her hand has been doing; she snatches it back just as he finds his voice.

“If... if you believe that your suggestion is... appropriate, then I shall agree to it.”

Catra lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The smile returns to her face, and she nods. Melog trills happily and rewards each of them with a gentle headbutt.

~

For what had seemed such a dramatic conversation, the aftermath is anything but. Catra and Melog return downstairs and tell Glimmer and Adora of what has transpired. Their reaction is as expected: the work is postponed, and Hordak is given leave to rest as long as is necessary, no questions asked. 

He spends the remainder of that day and the next in bed, rising in the late afternoon to deliver a very formal, semi-awkward apology to Glimmer. She responds with a very formal, semi-awkward acceptance. Their working session resumes, though Hordak finds that he needs to excuse himself again after only a couple of hours. That evening, Glimmer has a basket of strawberry tarts delivered to his room. She also makes a point of ensuring that their sessions no longer extend into the late night hours.

Catra remains nearby, much to Hordak’s (admittedly only half-sincere) chagrin, and between her stubbornness and Melog’s perception, he is kept well-supplied with snacks, water, extra blankets and, though both refuse to admit it, friendly company. Adora spends her time trying to contact Darla; when she succeeds, Hordak happily accepts Entrapta’s enthusiastic check-in (and assures her that, yes, he is being provided an adequate amount of soup). 

A few days later, he is able to rejoin the group in full capacity, and they finish their work with little harm done by their extended schedule. 

Then it is time for him to return to Dryl (Entrapta arrives the next day), but before he boards his transport, he takes a moment to do something he’d once never imagined he’d do: thank Catra. Awkwardly, as seems is his communicative style this trip, but sincerely. 

She grimaces slightly, refusing to meet his eyes, and scratches absently at the back of her head. Next to her, Melog utters a noise that sounds like a warbling coo, their mane glowing a faint pink.

“Yeah... well... better than you passing out and bringing the wrath of Entrapta down on us. Bright Moon’s still rebuilding, y’know.”

This elicits an actual laugh from Hordak, sudden and rather loud, and Catra fails to keep the surprise from her face as he regains control of himself and gives his final farewell with a small, genuine smile.

Despite Melog confirming for the world that she is blushing under her fur, Catra smiles back.