#main thing is i dont know how to knit a sweater in the round

[milkweedman]

Is it insane to start knitting a sweater when youve only spun like 1/15 of the yarn youll need for it ? Asking for me (i have already started ...)

[sunflowersseemhappy]

Hey! I recently discovered your Tumblr and am loving reading your posts! I would like to place an order if it's not a lot ... You could headcanon the LIs to find out that the MC is pregnant quadruplets? (If you can't, please let me know to put an end to my anxiety) Thanks for everything!

Why hello @ i-dont-know-what-to-put4! Sorry it took a while I’ve had lots of requests to keep me busy. Thank you for the request, I’m super glad you enjoy my writing. So here we are for your entertainment!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN, here is my Masterlist.

Up next is Main Six with a MC that has a lot of anxiety.

Asra

There’s been a strange shift in your aura of late, the last few weeks Asra has felt it grow stronger and stronger with each passing day and tonight its particularly strong.

That evening the two of you are just enjoying each others presence, his head resting against your stomach as you twirl a strand of his white hair in your fingertips.

Already he can feel you falling asleep with your hand tangled in his hair and it makes him tired too, eyes fluttering open and shut.

Then all of a sudden the smallest wave of magic taps him on the cheek.

Asra is wide awake in an instant, frowning as he lifts his head to look at your placid face, eyes closed. Was that you?

And then it taps him again.

No it’s not your magic, but it feels similar. Like a combination of your magic and his. Something new...

Trying not to alarm you or wake you from your own slumber Asra shifts to place a palm against your stomach and tentatively prods back with his own magic.

And once more something prods back, four somethings.

Four little sources answer back and Asra’s heart skips a beat.

Oh, that is a surprise.

Asra resists a chuckle and just presses closer to you, making you grumble in your half asleep state.

“Wahzat? Asra?”

“It’s okay love, I’m just getting comfortable is all.” He sees no point in awaking you yet, you’ve only just started to drift off

You haven’t even noticed Asra and the magic he’s radiating, his magic cradling and soothing those tiny beings inside.

How he’s longed for his own child, and now along come four in one.

Asra can’t wait to see the look on your face.

Four children and you don’t even know it yet, he’ll tell you in the morning but for the moment he just wants to let them know he’s there and that he always will be.

Nadia

With the help of a carefully picked donor you have both decided to try for a child, and although you agreed to carry the child she still asked you if you were sure a thousand times over.

Although the first try had no success, the second try became the winner.

Its been weeks and Nadia has been so busy she’s almost forgotten about trying for a child.

You’re in her room changing into a night gown, which in itself isn’t strange, but you seem... different, somehow.

She thinks to herself you’re probably just a bit more sun blemished today or that you’re wearing a different hue of eye shadow.

But you’re glancing at her once every-so-often, more than usual as if you’re waiting for the perfect moment.

The next time she looks up from her seat at her bed you’re knelt by Nadia with the most serious expression on your face. Concerned she asks you if everything is alright, and your expression remains so serious she can’t comprehend the words that come out of your mouth.

“Yes, after all it isn’t everyday I get to tell the love of my life that I’m pregnant.”

And for what seems like the first time since you met her, Nadia blanks, staring at you in confusion.

A slow realisation dawns on her face and she’s standing pulling you up with her with a gasp, and already peppering your face with kisses and laughing clear and crisp.

“You had me worried for a moment Y/N,” she scolds, moving to slide a hand to your stomach with a delighted hum.

“There’s one more surprise, although you might want to sit down again...”

And after you both settle yourselves down, you break the news that there are four babies not just one, Nadia is just too busy smiling thinking of how fitting it is that the two of you should have a large family like her own.

She can’t wait.

Julian

That evening after getting over a bout of ‘food poisoning’ Julian manages to drag you out for a few drinks at the Rowdy Raven.

He’s downing Salty Bitters like there’s no tomorrow, rowdily cheering at the fiddle player who is striking up a feisty tune.

Once every so often grinning back at you, your non-alcoholic drink playing between your hands unnoticed.

Startling as Julian’s hand tugs your’s, asking for a dance with that silly grin on his face. His energy is almost infectious as he leads you out into the jostling crowd.

He’s spinning and twirling you and thankfully you don’t feel as sick as you did earlier in the week because otherwise you’d be sick by now.

As the feisty tune ends you’re almost breathless and Julian curiously asks you if you’re okay as a slow tune sets pace for a slow dance.

“Oh, yes. I’m just finding it harder to catch my breath since I’m pregnant.”

“Well, that would make dancing a lot harder...”

Giving you a bewildered look, Julian in his partly drunk daze grabs your shoulders begging you to repeat what you just said.

“We’re having babies Julian... four of them.” He almost faints, falling back into a chair with a million questions on his mind.

The two of you leave the Raven early that night and as you walk down the street Julian is looking you up and down in adoration. His hand about your waist, just brushing your stomach.

Will he be a good enough father? Will they like him? What if they hate him?! So much to do and think about, he’s so eager and scared at the same time, but when you give him that soft smile Julian’s worries feel almost non-existent.

The two of you together? Those kids are going to have the best parents ever.

Muriel

Something’s up, Muriel knows that much. You’ve been acting weird, well, weirder than usual.

Your moods have been all over the place and Muriel is pretty sure you’re not feeling tired all the time just because of all the ‘late nights’ you’ve had.

Last week you cried over seeing a doe with twin fauns, and again over how good his scrambled eggs were.

And that day finally comes, and for first time in weeks you’re pretty calm accompanying him to a farmer’s orchard to pick some apples (with the farmer’s permission of course.)

Sunshine dappling your faces as you pick fruit from the floor, Muriel spots you visibly wincing when you have to bend low.

Muriel’s eyes are constantly watching you with confusion, as you weave through the trees almost causing him to bash his head against a low branch.

When he finds his way back to your side you point excitedly at a perfectly round red apple, despite his own height it is out of his reach.

Humming in thought you encourage Muriel to sit you on his shoulders, and you just manage to reach the apple yelling in triumph as Muriel sets you back down.

And he notices you’re smiling down at the apple tenderly. “I bet I’ll be rounder than this apple in a few months...”

“What?” Muriel is staring at you. “Why... would you be?” Your hand flies to your mouth as you hide a grin, Muriel’s face is set in a deep frown.

“Well, I’m just, saying... with four babies I’m going to be HUGE!”

The deepest shade of red is colouring Muriel’s cheeks as he looks down at you, to your eyes then to your stomach then back to your eyes.

“You mean...I’m- we’re going to be...parents?” Muriel sidles up to you curiously, tentatively reaching out. Grabbing his hand you slide it to your stomach with a nod and laugh. Using your own hands to cup his face and giving him a soft kiss on his cheek.

How in the world? He’s astonished and scared, and although Muriel doesn’t know if he’s ready, it doesn’t seem like such a scary thing with you. He wants to try.

Portia

As with Nadia the two of you have, with the help of a donor decided to have a baby together.

The two of you having had a friendly argument about who was going to try having the baby first, through some deductive reasoning you two agreed you would be the best candidate.

Unsurprisingly Portia has been bouncing around at the prospect of having a baby, she’s already knitted 20 little sweaters to pick out as the baby’s first clothes.

And that morning as you come back from a checkup from the ever helpful future uncle Julian, Portia is already jumping up and down after rushing back for a ‘lunch break’ to meet you.

“So? What happened? Any luck, what did Julian say?”

You’re laughing at her excitement and have to force her to sit down on the love seat, trying in vain to calm her down.

“Well Julian had a listen and... I am pregnant!”

Portia tackles you into a bruising hug and you have to quickly remind her you are pregnant, so she goes to nuzzling your face and laughing behind her kisses as you chuckle back.

“Oh, that means you can finally pick out your favourite sweater!” Portia picks up the overflowing basket of baby clothes and presents it to you like its a medal.

Biting back another laugh you survey the clothes and pick out your four favourite ones. Portia watches you eagerly to see which one you’ll pick out of the four but your hand stays gripping them.

“A toss up, hm?”

“Oh, no these four will do.”

“Um, Y/N if you bundle the baby up in four sweaters it might get too warm...”

“I know, that’s why there’s only one for each of them.” Portia purses her lips with a thoughtful frown and then her mouth falls open.

“You’re having FOUR!?” You just burst out laughing in answer.

She’s going to have to make a lot more sweaters, but she can’t wait to coddle four babies and have lots of fun with her family. With any luck they’ll be just as cute as you!

Lucio

You have a surprise for him? But he’s meant to be spoiling you, he loves spoiling you!

Although he can’t help but get excited as you near the bedroom.

So its that kind of surprise?

No, the two of you have already passed your shared room and you lead him to the room across from the door he was expecting.

“Um, Y/N our room is that door!” Lucio points, but you shake your head and tell him to close his eyes.

Lucio is starting to get sceptical of what kind of surprise this is but with a shrug he closes his eyes and allows you to lead him through the door.

The smell of paint hits his nose first and there’s the tinkling of bells somewhere off to his right.

“...and open your eyes!”

Lucio can’t remember what this room used to be but whatever it used to be it looks totally different now.

The walls are painted with a fresh coat of cream above and pastel green below and there are sheer curtains lining the windows and where you are now standing there are four cribs each with a mobile with tinkling bells?

“Don’t worry I had Portia and the other servants help me, there’s a few things to get done still but, do you like it?”

Lucio is examining the room with a critical eye, as he slowly walks toward you turning on the spot before coming to a stop before the crib’s.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Well yes, unless the doctor lied to me...”

“Why are there four?”

Chuckling wryly you suck your teeth with an innocent expression as Lucio turns to gape at you. You can’t even nod before Lucio’s hands are picking you up at the waist and twirling you around with barking laughter kissing your lips as he sets you back down on your toes.

“I guess this makes me look like a good lover,” at the jest you smack him lightly with a warning expression laced with a smile.

How lucky is he to get a second chance with you?

[everyday-is-brighter-with-you]

CRYING IN THE (WINTER)CLUB

Before starting the ID I want to say there are some OC characters in this, and I’ve described their general appearance in this google doc for ref!

[ ID: Wide front view colored art drawn traditionally and colored digitally. Every character is in fullbody except Dr Habit whos drawn till above legs. In the scene many people are gathered out in the winter snow at a backyard. Snow falls everywhere. Overall pic is light blue toned. There is slight pale vignette around it.

Dr.Habit is looking away and wiping a tear, smiling. In the artists interpretation he has yellow fur, pink hair, stitches on hands, deep red nails.He wears long brown fur coat, big white knitted scarf, black fingerless gloves, black fur ushanka with orange fruits and green leaves design. Wears hair in a long plait. A dark grey maine coon leans into him.

Putunia is laying down, hands on cheeks making a ''ooo'' face in anticipation and glee. In the artists interpretation she has long dark brown curly hair. She wears a purple petunia shaped dress, blue pants, short brim straw hat with fake purple flowers,  thick yellow socks. Wears hair in big pigtails tied with pink bobble ties. She is looking at Lil Habby( the puppet) holding a fire gun to a melting chocolate bar, melting into a cup for making a drink. He wears the usual with a pink flower in hair. He has long thin simple shadow arms and legs here.

Marigold is sitting idle on the grass, looks curiously at snow on his petal hair, maybe even irritated. Near him on a pink cushy sofa with green highlights and little yellow flower designs sits Rose playing his flute eyes closed and legs kicking casually. In this picture his hair is longer. His hair tie rests on a sofa arm.

Behind him the Carlas are making a Snow Carla. Fortune Teller Carla is smiling and keeping a camellia on the snow figure. A red sleeveless dress and red gloves are drawn on her, wears hair in double buns with sparkling grey flower bands encircling buns, green eyeshadow. Another Carla laughs heartily, adding more snow.  A green buttoned dress with yellow ''fluff''  and striped brown cap with same fluff is drawn on her. The third Carla's face is away from viewer, she too is adding snow. A blue dress like Elsa's icy dress and a purple flower crown is drawn on her, though the cape is actually worn. The Snow Carla has one swirly eye dug in, a button eye with leaf lashes and branch eyebrow, carrot nose, red wax lips stuck on. From the camellia tree behind the red-clothed one, a pair of green cat eyes with thick brown brows stare.

Farther away on the other side Kamal is walking in, holding a half eaten pitha in hand while approaching. He holds a bag with a box saying ''To Kamal, with love''. In the artists interpretation his face is acne scarred. He wears a blue-black sweater, purple scarf, blue pants, brown winter shoes with white fluff at the top, one gold earring, frog shape chew necklace, hair is in a bun.

At the center Trevor is reaching up  with a stool and fiddling with a giant vibrating hot chocolate machine. He wears his usual coat with added blue jeans, red scarf with yellow and black stripes, leopard print heels, green goggles, mask for mouth, silver ear piercings. Hair is in a mullet and nails are sharp and black. The machine has a funnel streaming black smoke, and many bright devices on it. In the center of it is a radioactive symbol. On one side to its bottom is a part reading ''DEVIL MODE'' in allcaps with fire graphics, a big red button in a glass case is above it with a note that reads ''Never(underlined) touch'', stuck with a smiley face pin. There is a mounted fish figurine on one handle. The hot chocolate is fizzling over the brim.

Behind him a long table laiden with food is seen. There are swirl designs on the wood's sides. There are red and green apples, borscht, three colored drinks, yorsh, glintvein , 3 tier chocolate cake, shchi, cut open peaches, cut round bread, bowl with sweet bread cakes, three small buns, full breasted chicken in aluminium foil. Lily is looking over the table edge, grinning with the aim of stealing the cake.

There are plants around, a winter garden. In some places a green color overtakes the snow with grass growing. All over the yellow fence, to the left side, are huge clumps of winter jasmine.

To the horizon trees in blue-green shades with snow coverings are seen, closer and then farther and farther away. In that distance the silhouettes of Jimothan smiling and waving to Trencil, while dragging Parsley through the snow behind him are seen. Trencil stands and smiles, a little of his towering purple castle with red highlights, many turrets, visible.

end ID]

DESC UNDER CUT 

yisssss MFERS I made a winter piece before winter was FUCKING OVER sobsob

heres my yearly tribute to the season of nosebleeds cracked lips and flies aND SNOW!!!!!!!!(NOT WHERE I LIVE ;W;)

Also my birthdays really soon. Like next week soon

Ermmm ahffjd to talk a little about what I drew...hmmhfhg...well idk if the perspective( god i tried) makes this look different so ill just throw it out there thats Habits not looking at my sonaJDJVNJ hes looking away and crying due to found family feelings. Carlas doing some gay shit. Pabit+Putunia about to start a small localized natural disaster. I mean how else do u make hot choco without setting chocolate on fire tbh. Hotted chocolate. aNd YeS mY fAmIlY SeLf iNsErTs ArE ThErE tOo >:3. The machine will explode tommorow but its OK. They can make bath bombs from the carnage. Hrhggh I had a different idea but then my sis changed my HC so Im just gonna say Habit built it but with Trevors help hence the flashiness nd DEVIL MODE. Now that ive watched hlvrai i cant stop dropping references this series is so quotable .   Sawww those guys in the back? Honestly Trencils probably a winter person with the low light, fog and blocked sun.

---

EDIT: WELL MY BIRTHDAY GOT OVER AND JANUARY ALMOST TOO DAMN..GETTING OVER MY HEAPING ANXIETY AND POSTING

I dont Expect a lot of notes or anything but I suppose its alright, one of the important things to me is just archiving my art somewhere.

I know the IDs long but I’d recommend reading through if u also wanna like know the specifics of what I drew, OVER 15 PLANTS I THINK   I’d be flattered,

If you reblog with tags i’ll be happy though!!

[ID: The same drawing but with no editing- no vignette, snow overlay, blue overtone or color correction. end ID]

EDIT: Shortened the rlly long ID, but if someone wants to know the plants i drew under ‘winter garden’;  The flowers and plants visible at front are virginia rose, red chokeberry, snowdrops, a single frost covered rose, piers japonica in pots. To the middle inkberry, more snowdrops, colored hellebores patch,  glory of snow, black hellebores patch, pansies, cyclamens, yellow aconite, some more snowdrops. A little farther are two winterberry plants, a camellia tree, witch hazel, english primroses, staghorn sumac. 

[geniusgub]

north//chapter one

here she is!! after the long wait, here is the first chapter of north! I hope you all like it. let me know what you think. more chapters to come soon🖤

also i dont have a tag list for this but if anyone wanted to be tagged in this fic then let me know and I’ll create a tag list

genre: fluff

pairing: spencer reid x female oc

warnings: very basic troupe that I’m sure some people are tired of lol but other than that, none!

word count: 3k

SPENCER

Being late to work is not something that I tend to enjoy. I hate it, in fact. I feel like I'm letting my team down if I'm ever late to round table meetings or if I miss a briefing. But these days, sleep is rare. And if I do sleep, it's not uncommon for me to sleep over the array of alarms I have.

Coffee is a must have for me at all points of the day. No sleep means exhaustion and exhaustion means my brain doesn't work as quickly as it could and that means we don't solve cases and not solving cases means more people die. I can't have more people die on my watch so I drink as much coffee as I can. But the coffee in the bullpen isn't always the best so if I ever have time, I stop at a cafe on my way to work. I take the extra five minutes to walk there before hopping on the metro.

I mumble off my coffee order to the tired looking barista and she scribbles down my name. I hand over a few stray bills to pay and get some change in return, tucking it in my pants pocket. I give a tight lipped smile to the barista before moving to a table in the corner of the cafe, pulling a book out of my messenger bag and starting to read, crossing one of my legs over the other. I don't look up while I wait for the barista to call out my name, not even when two people bump into each other in front of the door or a tourist asks someone else for directions. I just read my book and chew my lip, tapping my fingers against the hardcover.

"Spencer," I hear my name being called and finally allow myself attention to be lifted.

I stand quickly, tucking my book in my bag and closing the flap before heading back to the main counter. But the buckle of my bag gets caught on the button of my sleeve when I try to close my bag all the way. I pull at my sleeve, trying to get the buckle unlooped. But in this tussle with myself, I don't even realize that I'm still walking until I bump right into someone. I move my attention from my bag and catch the person's shoulders so I don't completely knock them over and make not only a fool of myself, but of them too. 

"Oh my gosh," I say immediately, my eyes widening, "I'm so sorry,"

"It's okay, it's okay," the girl laughs, her hands squeezing my arms as she regains her balance, “didn’t even fall. You caught me. I didn’t even break a sweat!”

My eyes finally find the girl's face and I'm rendered absolutely speechless. I somehow notice everything about her right away and I memorize her beauty. Her eyes are a bright, beautiful shade of ocean blue and her eyelashes cast shadows over her perfectly pink cheeks. Her hair is wavy and blonde with brown roots, but there's a yellow and blue patterned scarf tied around the front of her head like a folded bandana with pieces pulled out to frame her face. Her nose is small and I can only liken it to a button. Her lips are full and plump and a pretty light pink color and her Cupid's Bow is one that Cupid himself should be jealous of. Both of her ears are full of different types of piercings, and her nose even has a hoop in her right nostril.

She's wearing a light blue knit sweater tucked into a tight denim skirt, along with a pair of short black boots with small heels on them. Her nails are painted white and her fingers are full of rings, each of them different styles and various shades of silver with yellow gems. I notice a tattoo on one of her fingers but she moves and I can't make out what it is. I wonder if she has more tattoos. I find two straps around her shoulders and realize she's wearing a leather backpack, one probably very similar to my own bag. The last thing I notice is the old fashioned camera hanging around her neck, resting just above the waistband of her skirt.

I've seen my fair share of pretty girls. I've seen girls that I wouldn't mind getting to know better. I've met girls that have caught my attention. I've even been in what I believed to be love. But what is this? If I thought I'd seen a beautiful girl before, I clearly hadn't met this girl before. She looks like an angel sent directly from heaven. She looks like she was crafted by God himself and put on this earth to grace mankind with her beauty. Is it fair for one woman to be this beautiful? Is it even possible? I didn’t think that one woman could possess such beauty. 

What the hell is wrong with me? I can barely even breathe. I’m just staring at this gorgeous specimen, admiring her smile and trying to memorize the way her fingertips feel on my forearms. I quickly try to think of something to say, another apology for running into her, but I can barely even breathe when I stare at her, much less speak. 

"Spencer," the barista calls out my name again, setting my cup down on the counter before walking away. Saved by the barista. 

The girl smiles at me and her face lights up, only further illuminating her features. She's got two dimples on her cheeks, bringing out a childlike spirit in her that I pick up right away. "Um," she says with a laugh, "is that yours? You should probably grab it before someone else steals it,"

Okay, Spencer, breathe. You can do this. You’ve spoken to pretty girls before. Sure, it’s hard and it’s scary, but you can do it. Just say words. Preferably, coherent words. Preferably, maybe, a full sentence.

"Right," I finally force out, dropping my hands from her arms. I hadn't realized until now that I was still holding onto her and she was still holding onto me. I reach over and grab my steaming coffee, almost wincing at the heat under my fingertips.

The girl still hasn't moved when I turn back to her, but now she's fiddling with her camera. "Are you," I start to say before hesitating. Her head pops up and she smiles again, letting her camera fall against her stomach. I gulp, shuffling my feet against the floor as I attempt to speak a full sentence. "I didn't mean to bump into you like that,"

"Oh, it's totally fine," she waves her hand at me casually. "I wasn't paying attention either. No harm, no foul. Like I said, I didn’t even break a sweat,” The girl pushes her hair behind her ears and places her hands on her hips. With the confident way she speaks, I almost expect her to keep speaking, but she doesn’t. She just looks at me with the cutest smile, even baring her teeth, waiting for me to say something else. 

So I clutch my cup of coffee and swallow thickly. “I-" I hesitate yet again, but when the girl's eyes scream for me to continue, I do. "What's your name?"

She opens her mouth to speak but before she can, another cup of coffee is placed on the counter. "Amelia," the barista announces before walking away.

Amelia laughs, taking a step over to grab her cup, which I immediately notice is tea and not coffee. "Took the words right out of my mouth,"

"Amelia," I repeat as if testing the way the word rolls off my tongue. It tastes sweet. "You heard already, but, um, I'm Spencer,"

"It's nice to meet you," Amelia holds her hand to shake mine, and the panic starts to set in. For a moment, I debate on actually just shaking her hand so I don’t seem like a total freak to this girl that I seem to have a massive crush on. But the prospect of shaking a total strangers hand is repulsive and when I find myself looking at her hand for more than two seconds, I’m starting to count up the amount of germs that would be present there and I have to force myself not to make a face.

So of course, while my hands get clammy and my heart rate speeds up, I do what I do best. I spit out a fact that Amelia didn't ask for. "On average we carry 3,200 bacteria from 150 different species on our hands,"

Amelia's fingers curl into her palm and she retracts her hand, looking down at her palm and smiling just a tiny bit. "You know, I don't blame you for not wanting to shake hands. It is kinda gross anyway,"

"Sorry," I blurt out immediately, still shuffling on my feet. "That was rude of me,"

"It's not rude," Amelia counters, sipping her tea without so much as grimacing at the inevitable heat. "Are you in a rush?" I glance down at my watch and see that I still have ten minutes until I should be getting on the train. I relay this information to her and watch as she smiles again. "Would you like to sit with me then?"

"Oh," my eyes widen slightly and I squeeze my coffee cup so hard that I think I might poke holes in the sides, "y-yeah, sure,"

"Cool," she breathes out, waving me on and leading me to a booth on the other side of the cafe. I'm far too anxious with this situation and by Amelia's beauty and her comfortability around me to even think about relaxing, or drinking my coffee, or taking my bag off from around my shoulder. I definitely can’t remember any of Morgan’s advice on how to chat up girls or any of the conversation starters I’ve memorized for social situations like this. My mind is completely empty, just when I need it to be full and plentiful. How lovely.

Amelia sits across from me and grins, and every time she does, I swear my heart skips a beat and another butterfly breaks through its cocoon in my stomach. "So where are you off to this morning, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Work," I answer, and then realize that's an incredibly vague answer. Amelia raises her eyebrows as she lounges back against the booth, clearly waiting for me to elaborate. "Uh, I work for the FBI, actually. More specifically, the BAU- the Behavioral Analysis Unit,"

"You're a profiler!" Amelia perks up again, sitting up straighter with a huge grin on her face. "That's super cool! My dad is a police officer, sheriff actually, back home in Texas and I'm pretty sure he's worked with the BAU before and he says you guys are awesome. You catch serial killers, right?"

I'm almost stunned by her reaction. Most people don't believe behavioral profiling works, and most people resist the practice, especially local police. But her acceptance of it is incredibly refreshing, and it's welcomed. Honestly, any type of excitement from this Amelia girl is welcomed. It’s a beautiful sight. 

I can feel my cheeks turn bright red as I nod, still clutching my coffee cup. "Yeah, we do. And um, what about you?" I hate talking about myself so I change the subject. "Where are you off to?"

"I'm actually meeting a friend of mine to go shopping a few blocks over," Amelia gestures out the window. "But since we're talking about your job, I'll tell you about my way less cool job, which is an artist. I went to Carnegie Mellon and then moved here and I’ve been here ever since. My preference is canvas painting but I bring my camera around a lot, hence," she holds up the camera around her neck, "the camera now. I try to capture spontaneous moments for when I do exhibits and galleries and such,”

"I've always loved art. Never been talented at it, but I like it." I shrug nonchalantly and sip my coffee, trying to divert my eyeline down to the table, but when Amelia smiles at me, I can’t find it in me to break our eye contact.

Something about Amelia's smile brings me in. Every time she flashes her teeth, I feel myself sink further into my seat and I feel my head get fuzzier. I almost forget that I have to get to work in just a few minutes. But I don't want to go anymore. I want to stay here and keep talking to Amelia. I want her to keep going on and on about canvas paintings and her education at Carnegie Mellon, or even just tell me why she likes tea over coffee, if that’s even true. I don’t know anything about this girl but I want to.

"Nobody is technically good at art," Amelia responds. "Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses in the arts, everyone sees art differently, and that's okay. I'm sure you're not horrible, I'm sure you just haven't found your strength yet, Spencer," She enunciates my name with such beauty and grace that I almost ask her to say it again. I'd do anything to hear her say my name again.

"If-" I'm cut off when my phone rings in my pocket, so I lean over and fish it out. I read a text from Garcia that tells me we have a case, meaning we'll be briefing for a new case this morning. I sigh defeatedly, wishing I hadn't just gotten a text that usually piques my interest. Today, it makes my heart drop. 

"You have to get to work?" I look back up at work to see yet another smile on Amelia's perfect face. "Go ahead, it's okay," I’m so used to seeing disappointed faces when this text comes in, not a smiling face. It’s odd, somewhat confusing.

I grab my coffee cup and stand as Amelia does the same. She holds her cup to her chest, looking down at her feet. "Will," I chew on the inside of my cheek when she looks up at me, ocean eyes wide with anticipation as I struggle with my words for the umpteenth time, "can I see you again? We barely got to talk and you-"

"Yeah," Amelia nods before I can even finish my sentence. "Can I give you my number?"

I have to hold myself back from jumping up and down in excitement. "Y-Yeah, sure, of course," I pull my phone out yet again as she does the same. She tells me her phone number slowly so I can get it down, but of course, it sticks in my brain immediately.

"Just text me," Amelia murmurs, looking over my shoulder at my phone where my shaky thumbs press against the buttons on my phone to type out- hi, it's Spencer. She waits until her phone rings and then she smiles at me. "Great, I've got it. Now, um, go. Don't let me be the reason you're late in helping people. You don't have to text me if you don't want to," she pauses for a moment, and I wonder what she's waiting for. Is she waiting for me to confirm or deny that statement? Is she waiting for anything at all? Is it an open-ended statement? Where have all my profiling skills gone? Forget profiling- where is my common sense? "But if you do wanna text me," I'm thankful when she starts talking again, "don't until after you've solved your case. Don't worry about me until you've saved lives. But like I said, if you don't wanna text me, you don't have to,"

My phone buzzes again and I can only imagine it's someone from the team asking me where I am, hurrying me along so we can get started on our briefing. I ignore it for now. "Well," I have to clear my throat to be able to speak again. I give Amelia a bashful smile holding up my phone for her to see, "I'll text you when I'm back home,"

Amelia blushes, her bottom lip being pulled between her teeth. She breathes out a tiny laugh, nodding. "I look forward to it, Spencer,"

I take a step towards the door and feel my body grow cold at the distance starting to increase between us. "I'll talk to you soon, Amelia,"

And with that, before I have it in me to take one more look at the angel standing in the corner cafe, I hurry out the front door. There's a dumb smile on my face as I rush down the stairs to the train platform, struggling to swipe my card and respond to Penelope's text at the same time, all while running to catch the train at the platform. I'm somehow successful at all of this and only manage to breathe once I'm inside the stuffy car. Amelia's face is stuck inside my head and I can't get it out, and I'm positive that I never want to.

///

"Reid? Reid!" My head pops up as Morgan forcefully says my name, catching my attention and bringing me out of my daydream.

When I look up at him, he's already staring up at me with his eyebrows raised, clearly expecting an answer out of me about something. I have no idea what that something is, but he’s wanting an answer about it. I clear my throat, placing my cup of terrible police station coffee on the table and running a hand over my face. "Sorry," I apologize half heartedly, "I was thinking,"

Morgan sits across from me at the table and folds his hands. "Case related?" I glance up at him before deciding to completely ignore him, standing and walking up to the board, returning to examining the geographical profile. "Reid, come on, we've been on the case three days. You've been distracted ever since you walked in for the briefing. You can talk to me," I keep ignoring him. I stare at the map in front of me. "Is something going on? Is it your mom?"

"My mom is fine," I spin around and cross my arms over my chest, ignoring the way my heart starts to speed up when Amelia’s face resurfaces in my brain. “Can we just solve this case so we can go home?”