#no really it's a looooong post

[amtrak12]

Fanfic Meta: First Draft vs Final Draft w/ Examples (1/2)

Does anybody remember those LiveJournal posts on fanfic meta? Like not actual fanfic, but meta on how to write/post a fanfic? There was a whole big table of links that I can no longer find, but I HAVE tracked down synedochic's posts on dreamwidth. These were hands down the most helpful things I've read on story structure until I discovered Helping Writers Become Authors years later. Just INCREDIBLE work.

Anyway, you still see meta on how to post fic on Tumblr, but you don’t really get writing meta much, unless someone is analyzing the text of a specific fandom. So now that I’m finally hitting the point where I can write to the level of my tastes (or near enough to enjoy reading my own work), I thought it might be fun to bring back that vibe and share some writing meta. Maybe some other fic writers or aspiring writers will find it helpful :)

My current WIP is a Lucifer story called “Can We Keep Her”, and it’s a full sci-fi/fantasy novel length fic. Like it’ll be 190k words long when all is said and done, easy. (And there’s still two sequels planned oops.) It’s my longest fic to date BY FAR, and I am utilizing every skill I’ve ever learned and still learning five more with every chapter. One of the biggest techniques I’ve been utilizing is using multiple drafts to take the story from concept to final draft. Now, I am not following the common writing advice that says to write the entire story first before editing. Maybe if I wasn’t writing fanfic that could work? Or maybe if this wasn’t my first story over 100k words? But right now, that common writing advice is firmly not for me. Instead, I’ve settled into a pattern of drafting several chapters (anywhere from 2-4 with several more outlined in detail) and then going back and editing them into a state that I’m happy with. Then, when they're edited to at least "readable", I go back to drafting. This pattern is working for me and, as a result, means I’ve gone through the outline -> first draft -> second draft -> final draft stages many times over the last few months. Which is why I figured it was a good place to start with fanfic meta :)

Some caveats on my writing system for this fic before I begin:

I did have a broad strokes outline (the major plot points) completed before I started the first draft, and certainly I had those before I started posting any chapters on AO3.

I might be an underwriter when drafting, but I’m an overthinker when outlining and editing so I don’t really struggle with plot holes. It’s more likely I’ll be able to fill in a plot hole later because of some detail I had already slipped into the story.

“Can We Keep Her” is by far my longest fic, but it isn’t my only novel-length fic or my only plot-heavy fic. I gained a decent understanding of what works for me when it comes to multi-chapter fics from my previous attempts.

All that is to say: your mileage may vary on editing chapters as you go vs writing an entire draft start to finish before editing. But the information I’m covering here should apply no matter when you prefer to edit.

It just so happened that Chapter 10 in “Can We Keep Her” provided a prime example of first draft vs final draft. I had a to rewrite the final scene in an entirely new POV, and as a result I still had the original first draft preserved in a separate document. (Typically, my first drafts get absorbed into final drafts through editing or else they get straight up deleted after I rewrite.) So I’m going to provide the first draft of the scene in this post below the cut, and then I’ll share the final version in a separate post (linked here and at the bottom of the post). Separate posts isn’t ideal, but Tumblr formatting doesn’t allow for better options. This way, though, you can open the posts in separate tabs (on desktop at least) if you prefer to view them that way.

At the end of each version, I’ll share my thoughts about them and cover things like why I chose the original POV, why I changed it, what my goals were for the scene, how the second version supports those goals better, and where I still think it could improve but ultimately ran out of time before it needed to be posted. I hope you find these thoughts helpful or at least interesting!

Original closing scene for Chapter 10 behind the cut:

Chloe was late for lunch. After waiting hours, watching time drag on, a family member of Joey Pillegi agreed at the last minute to speak with them over his lunch break. Chloe wore every professional mask in her arsenal to hide her impatience. Dan knew her too well to be fooled, but she didn’t think the grieving brother noticed. Unfortunately, the interview didn’t lead to another clue. The brother didn’t even know where Joey had been living the last six months, let alone that he’d joined a mob.

At least, Lucifer had finally texted after his therapy session had ended. ‘Apparently pink was the missing feature of the infant’s car seat’ wasn’t the most descriptive message, but it offered a few insights. Lucifer had bought a new car seat for Rory, and Rory liked it. Now hopefully, the rest of their morning had gone as well.

The penthouse elevator opened to the sounds of Rory’s happy chatter against the backdrop of the television. Lucifer spotted her immediately, but Rory remained out of sight, presumably tucked inside the largest blanket fort Chloe had ever seen.

“You two have been busy this morning,” she said.

“Hm? Oh, yes the fort.” Lucifer frowned. “The infant has this frustrating tendency to scoot herself underneath the couch. She’s bound to get herself stuck if she keeps that up!”

“So you made a blanket fort instead?” Chloe’s mouth quirked up into a smile. He’d done this before: complain about something and then do something incredibly thoughtful and sweet under the guise of removing an annoyance. She shouldn’t be surprised at this point, and yet it still managed to impress her every time.

Rory finally noticed her arrival and came crawling out of the blanket fort. “Mommy!” She sprinted over and Chloe dropped to her knees to catch her in a hug.

“Hi, baby!” Chloe grinned. Relief crashed over her as she got to hold Rory in her arms again. The morning had lasted way too long, and she was so glad she could check on Rory again. “Did you have fun with Daddy?”

“Lucifer,” said Devil corrected her. “Get her to use my name.”

“Right, sorry.” Though, internally, Chloe rolled her eyes over his continued denial.

Rory bounced excitedly on her toes. “I saw Aunt Linda!”

“I know you did. Were you good while you were visiting Linda?” Chloe stood up and asked Lucifer, “Did she give you any problems?”

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “She accused me of not listening.”

Given the context of therapy, Chloe wasn’t entirely sure who he meant. “Who did, Linda?”

“No, the infant!”

Chloe bit back a smile.

“She also accused me of arguing with her which I wasn’t doing,” Lucifer gave Rory a pointed glare, “until she said I wasn’t listening.”

Chloe leaned down to talk to Rory. “Was Lucifer not listening to you?”

Rory gave her a conspiratorial smile. “No, he didn’t listen at all.”

“At all?” Chloe gasped. When Rory giggled, she grinned.

Lucifer was far less amused. “Okay if the little demons-in-training are going to team-up together then you’re not allowed to gang up on me too.”

“I’m not making promises,” Chloe said, crossing her arms. She smirked at Lucifer’s annoyance.

“Mommy, Mommy!” Rory tugged on her jacket.

“What is it?”

“All of Charlie’s toys were gone!”

“They were? Oh, no!” Chloe had no idea what toys Rory was talking about. They might be toys back at her mother’s house or at a friend’s house or even a daycare her mother had taken her too. But playing along with the girl might get her more answers than asking direct questions.

“Yeah, they were all gone because Charlie’s mad at me.”

“You think someone’s mad at you?” Chloe asked.

Rory nodded. “Charlie is.”

“Why would Charlie be mad at you?”

“Because I flew without him.” Rory pouted either in a mimicry of how she imagined this Charlie must feel or because she didn’t like the idea of someone being mad at her.

“I see,” Chloe said, though Rory’s responses had only generated more questions. “Well, maybe we should just keep our feet on the ground and not fly for awhile. What do you think?”

“Maybe,” Rory said, stretching out the word in a very unconvincing agreement. Chloe hoped Lucifer was right and that Rory couldn’t truly fly with her wings. She seemed to grasp hiding her wings when they were in public, but if she could fly, Chloe feared the temptation would be too much for the little girl to resist.

She turned to Lucifer and in a quieter voice asked, “Who’s Charlie?”

He threw up his hands. “I have absolutely no idea. I thought she was trying to say Charlotte at first, but either that’s wrong or the girl has a poor grasp on gendered pronouns.”

“No, she seems to have pronouns down,” Chloe said, remembering Rory’s firm correction that Roger Bear used ‘she’.

“My only other guess would be an imaginary friend,” Lucifer said. “Apparently young children can have those.”

“Yeah, an imaginary friend is possible… or,” Chloe braced herself as she suggested, “it’s someone she knows back home with her mother.”

Predictably, Lucifer’s face twisted in disagreement.

“You think she was still made by your parents,” Chloe said.

“It’d have to be my father if she was,” Lucifer said. “Mum doesn’t have a way back to our universe. But I still don’t know why my father would try making a baby angel.”

Or why that angel would think you were her father and not her brother, Chloe thought as Lucifer walked off towards the bar. She could almost understand why he was having such a hard time accepting the obvious. If an angel child being born was so impossible (and for Rory to be Lucifer’s only child over the course of humanity’s entire history, it certainly seemed like angel children were pretty damn impossible), then why couldn’t something equally preposterous like God creating a toddler angel on his own be a valid explanation for Rory’s existence? The problem was, they weren’t trying to determine which explanation was more or less likely to have happened. They were looking for the explanation that best fit the evidence, impossible or not.

Rory desperately wanted to give her a tour of the blanket fort. Chloe assured the girl, she could show it off soon and they could even eat lunch under it, but first Chloe needed to talk to Lucifer. After pulling a pinky promise out of her, Rory toddled off to continue her Fringe episode, and Chloe walked over to join Lucifer at the bar.

A large stack of paper rested on the countertop, but Lucifer leaned on his elbows beside it, staring off into nothing.

“Celestial craziness or not,” Chloe began, “maybe you should start looking at this like one of our cases. Keep your mind open to all of the possibilities and follow the leads until you can rule something out.”

“Not everything is possible,” Lucifer said.

Chloe replied, “In Rory’s case, it sounds like none of it is possible. But she’s here, so there has to be some explanation for her.”

Lucifer sighed. “I know.” He turned his gaze down towards the stack of papers, but he didn’t touch them.

“What is that?”

“Just some names I need to look into.”

That was purposefully vague. Chloe reached across him and pulled the stack towards her to read.

“They’re just some names, Detective,” Lucifer repeated.

He sounded concerned, but he didn’t stop her from taking the papers or try to pull them back. Chloe really hoped he hadn’t backtracked to hunting down the mysterious Sinnerman he was so obsessed with. He had a daughter to worry about now.

The stack was indeed a list of names printed out on computer paper, but each name had a date recorded beside it.

“What are the dates for?” she asked.

“It’s when I last saw them,” Lucifer explained. “It’s probably a fruitless endeavor.”

All of the dates were from 2014. Three years ago and some change. Now, Chloe understood what this list was.

“You’re looking for Rory’s mother.”

Lucifer pulled away the stack of papers. “Like I said, it’s probably a waste of time. She might not even have a mother.”

The denial wasn’t as strong as he wanted it to be. He did realize Rory being his daughter was the only explanation that fit. He just wasn’t ready to accept it yet.

“It’s a pretty big list,” Chloe said.

“My printer can’t print on both sides,” Lucifer replied.

Chloe wasn’t commenting on the length of the list specifically. She remembered all too well just how many people he managed to sleep with in [a week? Two weeks?]. Multiply that out to an entire year since they didn’t know Rory’s birthday, and Chloe almost expected the list to be longer. Then again, not all of his sexual partners could’ve given birth, so that would’ve narrowed down the list.

“Give me half.”

“What?”

“That’s a long list to go through on your own,” Chloe said. “I can help, so give me half.”

Lucifer shook his head. “You have a murder to solve. At least one of us should get to investigate something fun.”

“That murder investigation is stalled until we can either analyze those hairs we found or someone comes forward with information. There’s nothing ‘fun’ to do on the case right now.” Chloe held out her hand for the list. “I bet I can get through my half first.”

“Really?” Lucifer said. “You think turning this into a competition will get me to hand the list over?”

Chloe shrugged. “I mean, it’s not really a competition when I have every California and federal database to work from and you’re just crawling through social media.”

“I am very adept at finding information on social media,” Lucifer argued.

Chloe smirked, already knowing she’d won. She leaned in again to split the stack of papers up. “Here, I will take the bottom half so you can continue where you left off in the beginning of the list.”

“You don’t know that I’ve already started investigating,” Lucifer said, but it was nothing more than his game night protests as he searched for a loophole in the rules that allowed him to not actually lose. He was an extremely sore loser.

“Uh oh!” Rory left her castle-sized blanket fort to run over. “Fringe stopped, Daddy. Look.” She pointed back to the TV where the current episode had ended and the question of whether they wanted to continue watching had interrupted the end credits.

“That’s because the episode’s over,” Lucifer said.

“Fix it.”

Chloe answered, “Hey monkey, how about we get lunch first? Are you hungry?”

“I want more Fringe,” Rory said, glancing back to the paused TV.

“We can watch more Fringe, but let’s get food first, okay?”

It took a little more coaxing and challenging her to a race to the kitchen before Rory pulled her attention away from the television. But then she grinned and ran off down the hallway with Chloe while Lucifer yelled after them about falling. His list of names hovered in the back of Chloe’s mind all through lunch. She didn’t know which of them would ultimately find Rory’s mother, but if she found them first, that mother was getting such an ass chewing for giving the girl up. Chloe didn’t understand how anyone could look at Rory and decide she wasn’t worth fighting for. She’d been away from the girl for just a few hours and had still missed her desperately. How could Rory’s mother not be frantic after days apart? It was infuriating.

---------------

My Thoughts:

Yes, I do use the square brackets for notes to myself. :P I told y'all this was the first draft version!

So I went with Chloe’s POV originally for several reasons. First, I just kind of default to her POV? I tend to default to women characters in general in my fandoms (maybe because I’m a woman, maybe because I’m queer, maybe both). But also Chloe’s POV is a little more clear-headed and therefore easier to show the reader what’s going on. I do step out of her POV when she becomes super emotional like in Chapter 3 when she learned Lucifer is the Devil. (If a character is too emotional, it can be hard to portray their POV so I like to swing outside of them in those scenes.) But if Chloe’s present in a scene, she tends to be my default POV.

But there’s also a downside with being more clear-headed and not as emotionally invested in the plot (yet): sometimes it means you have less interesting things to say. Which is exactly the problem here. Chloe has nothing real to add in this scene.

Well, she has exactly one thing to add and that thing is the other reason I chose her POV initially: she missed Rory while she was at work and I desperately wanted to show her relief at getting to see her again. I’m more than a little obsessed with all the parental feelings in this story, and Chloe definitely has the stronger parental feelings in this moment since Lucifer is still in conflict over Rory being his daughter.

Except Lucifer’s conflict is exactly what we need to see at this point.

In addition to showing Chloe had missed Rory as if she was the girl’s mother (the dramatic irony, of course, being that she is the girl’s mother), I also wanted this scene to end with the decision to search for Rory’s birth mother. Which it does! Technically. But it doesn’t do it very well, and I always knew I’d have to smooth that out during editing. And while it wasn’t the primary focus here, I always want more Rory cuteness (the family domestics is kind of the whole point of this fic) and I wanted some glimpses into how Lucifer and Rory’s morning alone together went. This version of the scene covers both of those things, but again, not very well. And if I want to show how Lucifer and Rory’s morning went, then why wouldn’t I use Lucifer’s POV to show that more directly?

I realized pretty quickly when I went to edit this scene, that I should switch POVs. So go check out my second post over here to see what changed when I used Lucifer’s POV. Or if you’ve already read it because you’re reading “Can We Keep Her”, then just scroll down to the bottom and check out my thoughts on the changes.

[spkyart]

I am so normal about them

[groovylittleclown]

Wowie!! Look at that!! Mack made the Elite Trine in Pony Town!!

They have cutiemark things too!! Starscream has a star, Skywarp has a cloud, and Thundercracker has a lightning bolt!!

I also made them little holiday costumes and a second Screamer where he has a crown!

I'm really really proud of them!! I've been hanging out around the gravity falls section as Skywarp because my friends like to go as Bill and Ford!!!

Also the campsite as Starscream when all the bubbles get to be a bit too much.

If you find me, say hi!! I'd love to be friends!!!

[sallymew4]

hi guys

(forever) wips below are: scene redraw (that i actually started on way before posting mobsai here. crazy !), and teru in an outfit i saw at the mall once (denim dress. dress made of NOTHING but denim. it caught me off-guard but i think i was just being too harsh <3 he was going to wear those galaxy leggings all middle schoolers wear with it as well)

originally this post was just gonna be me posting pretty old wips that i never finished cuz ive been sick (i actually feel way better now tho) and lazy but then i started perusing some more of my older mobsai doodles and unfinished arts and decided to post those alongside the ones above :) i just think its fun to see how my art has developed grown and changed over a period of time, especially with the designs of these characters

if ur interested in lookin at suma those vv

thunder claps welcome

reminder and warning that a lot of these were me still kind of figuring out how to draw them so they will NOT be beautiful picasso

i think this was the first digital mob i ever drew..... he was born august of last year..wow

i was incredibly weak for father reigen if you couldn't tell [sarcasm]

i also didnt know how his suit worked. lol

soryr i was mean 2o u serizwaw sir. anwyays

various ritus (ft teru) vv i made him very hateful because i thought it was funny

v v supa unfinished (obviously) pre-mob teru stuff, just hanging out by roof railing

and then there was a looot of what might be my favorite genre of these, which were just goofy little scribbles

that last one i made in the middle of watching the last episode. i promptly teared up in the bathroom after finishing it

anyways thats pretty much it, for digital anyways :) i like looking back on art, cuz then im like "oh wow, improvement IS real" (i always forget). ill try drawin some moar stuff 4or yalls, i already gots sumthn in the works. oka bye thank you for looking !!11!

[biscuit-munchies]

Hi! I just found your PLA Paul AU and I'm loving it! I feel so terrible for poor Reggie, and Brandon too! :'(

It's made me think though, how would Paul & Brandon react if it was Reggie who disappeared?

How would Paul deal with Reggie just..being gone?

I've had this thought in mind since PLA came out, sorry if the question is weird tho =w=

Also I really enjoy your art! x3

OOOOOHHHHHH you done got my brainworms acting up again! Also im glad you enjoy my art lol >v< Strap in cause this is gonna be a LOOOONG post! OK SO! Here's how it would go: Paul would be traveling around, searching for pokemon with strong EVs and IVs (yknow, the usual) and like all similar trips he would check in. Paul and Reggie would usually check in like once a week when paul would reach a pokemon center, but Paul hadn't been near one in a while so he thought Reggie would call him on the phone today.

It's been quite a while since Reggie called him (he didn't realise that it was that long) So he tries to call Reggie back. It rings, no answer. He tries again, still nothing. Paul's a little confused but shrugs it off, thinking that his brother is just busy or something and that he'll call him back. So his journey continues, walking along different routes and catching some promising pokemon, but his mind would always wander back to his phone. He eventually reaches a pokemon center and tries to call Reggie that way, and he STILL doesn't pick up. His guts churn a little in concern, Reggie isn't one to forget things like this as he's gotten on Paul's ass about checking in more than once. Paul tries not to worry and think logically as he eventually boards the plane back to Sinnoh. Maybe Reggie is just really busy this time around and forgot to turn his ringer on. Maybe Reggie's phone broke somehow. Maybe Reggie just doesn't want to call him.

Paul sighs to himself, maybe he was just overreacting and his brother was just abscent-minded about the whole thing. He then heads back to Veilstone City with a little pep in his step, thinking of ways snark on his brother about the whole calling thing. Paul would climb the small steps to the porch of their home and he opens the door, ready to yell to his brother in the home. Only...

The house was absolutely trashed. Paul could not believe what he was seeing. There's no way that the house was- He drags his feet along the dirtied floor, furniture was knocked over, many dishes were either left in the sink or strewn about the floor in pieces. He looked out into the backyard- Where was all the pokemon Reggie was raising? It was like someone... someone broke in and- Paul could feel his heart start to race as his trudge turns into a brisk pace as he goes through the entirety of the house. Calling out to his brother as he tried to keep his voice steady. "Reggie? Reggie! Where are you?"

The bathroom. His Room. Reggie's Room. The Kitchen. The Living Room- The Living Room? Paul stopped. Then raced towards his backpack to get his phone in a frenzy and called the police. The Living Room floor was covered in blood.

After the police arrived, Paul went into autopilot, more out of shock if anything. The officers asked him different questions he didn't care to remember, and it was only when a familiar voice piped through the crowd. "Paul? Boy, are you alright?" Paul looks up from the ground to see a broad green suit right in front of him. "...Brandon?" He asks hesitantly. After that day, Brandon took Paul in as Paul couldn't stay at the Tobari house anymore (with it being a crime scene and paul can't pay mortgages off). Arceus, Brandon worried that the police would make Paul a ward of the state but was relieved to know that Reggie put Brandon down as a surrogate guardian to Paul. (my little head canon don't worry bout it ;P).

Paul seemed to completely close himself up, seemingly not wanting to believe that Reggie was now a missing person. He doesn't sleep much, doesn't eat much, and seems to get annoyed or angry at every little thing now. Brandon worries about him.

Paul doesn't want to talk about what happened at all, for he is angry at the world for taking away his big brother. Paul thinks that if he ignores the problem, that it'll go away andReggiewillcomebackand saysorryforleavinghimbehindandPaulcouldsaysorryfor-. But, as feelings do, his emotions reach a boiling point.

It was supposed to be a 'meh' day, Paul didn't know why Brandon tried to confront him about his self-destruction coping mechanisms. Things got heated, and Paul snapped back at him in a visceral rage.

"Why do you care, of all people?!" "So what if he's gone?! It's not like I care! It's not like he cared!" "It's pathetic of him to go missing like that! He had competent pokemon to protect him!" "How did no one notice the house was trashed until then?! Did nobody care to check?!" "Why didn't you check on him?!"

Paul went on his tirade for Arc knows how long, letting all his frustrations out in the open. He probably didn't know the magnitude of what he was saying, nor did he care. His tantrum continued on until he was out of breath. He was never like this, being this emotional, and Brandon just stood there with a knowing expression.

"So what if I wasn't there for him?! So what if he's hurt somewhere?! So what if I-"

"If- If I wasn't-"

"If I wasn't a good enough brother to him...?"

Paul hangs his head low, his figure lightly shaking as tears fell from his cheeks. He just uttered the thing that has been eating at him for weeks. How pathetic he is, saying that in the open, to Brandon of all people. He expects Brandon to reprimand him for saying those horrible things, what he doesn't expect is arms wraping around him in comfort. Paul stiffens and looks up hesitantly, that knowing sad look still on the elder's face. No matter how mature Paul acts or how grown up and knowing he thinks he is.

He's still a little kid.

For Brandon, it eats away at him to see Paul like this. Brandon and the rest of the frontier brains went through something similar.

When Anabel dissapeared.

For Paul to be going through this as he is... Arceus... He'd never dream of it. And yet, here they are.

They stay like that for several minutes before moving to the couch. They sit in silence before Paul whispers a quiet "m'sorry..." "For what?" Brandon answers, A Pause.

"...for sayin' those things t' you... you didn' deserve that.." He moves his head up slowly, eyes red rimmed from tears. "That was pathetic of me to do.. m'sorry."

"Don't worry about it, boy... I'm just glad you're lettin' it out now." Brandon cracks a small smile to him. "We'll get through this, you and I, so don't worry about it." . HOLY FUCK that was long, I basically made a psudo-fanfic right here lmfao. So yeah hope you enjoy!!

[trans-xianxian]

well. we were ultimately at the emergency vet for almost three hours (short staffed on a saturday evening) but we didn't have to sit in the waiting room so it wasn't too bad. she fell asleep on my chest long before they gave her the sedative, and she chittered her little teeth, maybe because she was scared of the unfamiliar place or because she knew what was coming, I don't know. we were there so long that I sort of forgot why we came at all until the lady handed me the box and I remembered. it's dark and rainy now so I'll bury her tomorrow

[g0thsoojin]

🦴

[marcymallows]

every now and then i remember this one video i saw like 12 or so years ago that was just this pic of alfonso ribiero

zooming out while the first five seconds of this plays

and i just kinda burst out laughing

[shirogane-oushirou]

not ready to post him properly yet, bc i want to give him some pants first JHABSJHDBJHB but. i finished the ren plushie earlier today, and i've just been petting him and smoothing him down all evening. i just picked him up to keep doing it, and i unconsciously starting kissing his little forehead. i'm definitely not feeling soft for him. anyway.......... [sick to my stomach bc i love him and he's so cute]

ghost sighting of the boy:

[foxstens]

red lizards are so cool

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

Just btw, I'm making more gifsets of Fanny performing "Hey Bulldog" live! Thanks again, btw, to everyone who voted on the poll. It got only a few votes, but because it was me asking, I felt like that was enough. LOL

[rynbutt]

safe. | spencer reid.

You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.

my masterlist!

cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.

wc: 6.2k

a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3

now playing... Fare Well by Hozier

This was really starting to piss you off.

You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiated– But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.

Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasn’t fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.

Because you swore this baby had it out for you.

You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadn’t told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didn’t think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJ’s job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJ’s job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you weren’t so sure anymore. 

You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a champion– a champion who still held her head over the bureau’s less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.

“Y/N?” You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelope’s heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. “Oh my god, sweet thing! What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Pen,” your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.

“No, no, my girl, you are not fine!” Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. “You need to talk to Hotch, you’ve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldn’t even be at work when you’re this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go home–”

“I’m not sick, Penelope!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, you really didn’t, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly you’d been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJ’s job as well as your own. It was just a lot.

Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didn’t mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed too– everyone was.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing you’d managed to do today– it had to be a record honestly. 

Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, “you don’t have to apologise, sweet girl, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.

“It’s not fair,” you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. “You’re stressed too, I didn’t mean to yell.”

Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldn’t even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.

“What’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time though– Penelope refused.

“I’m okay–” you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldn’t win. “I’m pregnant.”

Penelope’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. “What?? Y/N that’s–” she gauged your expression and she really couldn’t tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. “Are we happy about this news or are we…?”

“We’re…” you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didn’t seem to be going to plan. You’d been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, it’s not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasn’t the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his child– the timing was just piss poor. “We’re happy… just scared.”

“Oh, baby,” Penelope cooed. “Of course you’re scared, it’s a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.” Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldn’t really surprise you given her job.

“I hope so.” You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just weren’t sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were. 

“I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and you’re making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on this–” Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. “You haven’t told him?!”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldn’t imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.

“Pen, please,” you turned to her, “please keep this to yourself. I– We can’t deal with this right now. JJ’s gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I can’t do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.” Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasn’t great at keeping secrets.

“Y/N, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell them eventually– You’re an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you don’t just have yourself to think about anymore.” You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christ’s sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.

“...How far along are you?”

“Twelve weeks,” you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didn’t have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.

“...My money’s on a girl,” Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.

You let out a soft laugh, “I think so too.”

“Alright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,” Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom. 

You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didn’t have to bear the weight of the news alone.

You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJ’s job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of her’s. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.

You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, “shouldn’t you be working?” You teased.

“Are you trying to get me to go away?” Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didn’t want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.

“Yes, Spencer,” you replied sarcastically, “I’m trying to get you to go away.” Spencer wasn’t great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Sarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,” Spencer retorted with a gentle smile. 

“I am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I don’t know how I’m going to manage doing JJ’s job as well as my own,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“There’s a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I don’t think he could have picked anyone more capable,” Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, “what’s wrong, angel?”

“No, nothing,” You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, “I’m fine, Spence. I promise–”

“New case just came in,” Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand. 

You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJ’s departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour. 

Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.

“The victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.” You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.

The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didn’t try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didn’t seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.

“They were just shot?” Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos. 

“Once in the head,” Hotch replied, “there were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.”

“Could be a stalker?” Penelope suggested.

“Stalker victims are usually the object of a stalker’s affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,” You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.

Spencer flicked through the victim’s files, “the single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture… This could be some kind of revenge killing.”

“Did these victims know each other?” You asked.

“According to their parents, they came from the same friend group,” Penelope replied. 

“Wheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,” Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didn’t usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around. 

You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team. 

“The parents of the victims are here,” Emily poked her head into the office. “Y/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, I’ve got the Clarks.”

“Alright, I got it,” you replied, letting out a dejected sigh. 

“You okay?” Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. “You can do this,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone. 

“...I think she needs a break,” Penelope said after a beat. 

Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “what makes you say that?”

Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, “she’s doing JJ’s job and her own. I mean, I think she’s the right girl for the job but… you know what she’s like.”

Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.”

“I think that’s a great idea, lover boy,” Penelope grinned.

You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.

“Please, have a seat, Mr Miller,” you said gently.

“I’ll stand,” he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.

“Mrs Miller, I’m Agent L/N, I’m with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBI–”

“FBI?” She questioned. “Was Evan in trouble?”

“We suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,” you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth. 

“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?” You asked. Sarah didn’t say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “Daniel and Evan knew each other, right?”

“They went to high school together,” Sarah replied, her voice shaking. “They were so excited when they both got into Caltech,” she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“Do you have any idea who killed our son?” Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.

“That’s what we’re here for,” you said, “we’re here to find who killed your son and why–”

“‘Why”?” Ben repeated, “he was just a kid.”

You sighed softly, “I understand that, sir. We’re just trying to figure out a possible connection.”

“Evan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,” Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again. 

“Did Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?” You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. “Maybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?”

“They were both on the college basketball team,” Ben said after a beat. “Why? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?”

“I am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,” you didn’t want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. “I need to speak with my team but I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You rested a hand on Mrs Miller’s shoulder and you couldn’t shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.

You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, “Evan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evan’s parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.”

Hotch let out a breath, “I want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.”

You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.

The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house. 

You stood in the middle of Oliver’s bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.

You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the label–

“Oliver was taking Oxycodone,” you said softly, catching Spencer’s attention. “...And Escitalopram,” you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. “Chronic pain?” you suggested.

“Could be,” Spencer replied. “He could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, they’re typically over the counter.”

You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, “Yeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.”

“We should talk to the parents,” Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. “Was Oliver suffering from chronic pain?” Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.

Oliver’s mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencer’s bicep, “Has Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?”

Oliver’s father shook his head, “No, not recently. He’s been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he has– had flare-ups.”

“Flare-ups?” David asked pointedly.

“He was in a car accident four years ago,” Mrs Marsh said, “He was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks… he hadn’t really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial… he was in a lot of pain too.”

“He had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldn’t keep up,” Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. “He lost a lot of friends, I don’t think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.”

“Do you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?” Spencer asked. “Just so I can look them over.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.

You sat down across from Mr Marsh, “The accident he was in,” you started, “what happened?”

He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, “He was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were all…” he hesitated for a moment, “they were all drunk.”

“Who was in the car?” Emily asked, not liking where this was going.

“...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,” his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.

“Who was driving, Mr Marsh?” David asked quickly.

“Um, god–” He sniffled softly, “Peter… Peter something, he was older than them, I really don’t remember.”

“Thank you, Mr Marsh,” You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.

“How may I be of service, oh queen of my country?” she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard. 

“I need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,” you said with your hand on your hip. “Oliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anything– I think we know who the last target is.”

“Right, give me a moment,” Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, “Oh no…” she mumbled softly.

“What’s wrong, Pen?” You furrowed your brows.

“Peter Harvey,” Penelope sighed, “he’s the last boy… He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.”

“Shit.” You cursed, “What’s his name?”

“Jonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine… she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.” Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. “Y/N…”

“I know, Pen… After this case wraps up… I’ll tell everyone,” you replied with a gentle sigh.

“And you’ll take time off?” Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.

You smiled to yourself, “Yeah, Penelope. I’ll take some time off.”

“Okay… I’ll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathan’s last known address, I’m sending you Peter Harvey’s address–”

Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. “Where would I be without you, Pen?”

“Nowhere good, my love,” you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marsh’s house. 

Emily and David turned to look at you, “We’ve got him.”

“Alright, you guys go, I’ll grab Reid and we’ll be right behind you,” David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car. 

Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathan’s address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldn’t control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child. 

You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldn’t even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this. 

“Shit he’s already here,” Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathan’s SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peter’s address. “Call Hotch.”

You dialled Hotch’s number and he picked up almost instantly, “What is it, L/N?”

“He’s already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peter’s address. He’s already out looking for him,” You quickly said.

“We’re on our way, units are already on route,” he hung up after that. 

Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harvey’s house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.

“Mrs Harvey?” You asked, panting softly.

“Yes?”

“Is your son Peter here?”

“No, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon… What is this about?” She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.

“We believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,” Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.

“Mom?” You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.

It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peter’s head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.

You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers. 

“Jonathan Hughes?” You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.

“Move,” he grunted, his eyes glassy.

“I know what happened to your wife,” you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.

“They killed her,” tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him. 

“It was an accident,” you replied softly.

“They were drunk,” he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.

“I know,” you said, “It was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesn’t change what happened but these boys–”

“They’re monsters!” he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencer’s heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didn’t even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, “Y/N? No, no!”

David grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, “An agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.”

“Who was shot?!” Penelope’s voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.

“I repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,” David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.

“Morgan! Oh my god!” Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.

“It’s okay, babygirl, she’s going to be alright,” Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator. 

“No, Morgan, you don’t understand–”

“We’re going to get an ambulance–”

“She’s pregnant!” Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned. 

Hotch hesitated for a moment, “She’s what?”

Penelope let out a shaky breath, “she’s twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasn’t going to tell anyone until after the case– and now she’s been shot.” Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.

Hotch hadn’t sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldn’t admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.

Morgan’s heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.

“Jonathan Hughes!” Morgan’s voice caught your attention. “Put down the gun!”

“Don’t move!” Jonathan shouted, “I’ll shoot her!”

“No you won’t, man,” Morgan shook his head.

“How do you know that!? She’s in my way!” He shouted back.

“She’s pregnant,” Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression. 

Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didn’t even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.

Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. “W-What?”

Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. “Just like your wife, Jonathan… You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.” 

Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathan’s hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Emily gently rocked you, “you’re going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.

Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.

You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.

A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.

“She’s awake,” Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway. 

You grinned at him, “Hi, Derek.”

Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. “Feeling okay, pretty girl?” Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to ask but you knew you had to, “...is the baby okay?”

“Your baby is fine,” Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. “...You scared the life out of everyone though.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Especially your lover boy,” Morgan said, “he hasn’t left your side.”

“Sounds like my Spencer,” you laughed softly. 

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.

Spencer’s warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought I lost you, Y/N.” He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.

“I’m sorry–”

“You don’t need to–”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasn’t any, he could never be mad at you.

“I wouldn’t have let you come on the case,” he replied after a beat. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you… I knew you would be protective– more protective,” you corrected with a soft smile. 

“I’m aware,” Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. “You know the odds of… complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,” he frowned.

“I know, Spence,” you sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you… I understand being shot isn’t necessarily helping with that but–”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You stared at him for a moment, “are you happy?”

“Happy?”

“That I’m pregnant? I know we’re not married and our jobs are crazy but–”

Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, “I’ve never been more happy,” he whispered.

You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.

“Penelope thinks it’s a girl,” you muttered.

“...What do you think?” He asked curiously.

“I think she might be right,” you giggled softly.

“You know you can’t actually tell yet,” Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“You asked what I thought!” you retorted.

He laughed softly, “Yes, you’re right, you’re right.”

“Mmm, did that taste like poison to admit?”

“Are gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?”

a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!

[dylantyler]

im feeling incredibly smothered. not sure what to do..

[landosjpg]

fall back together | ln

the one where your ex-boyfriend invites you to spend a few days with him, but you two still have feelings for each other.

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: pining, the tiniest bit of fluff i believe, language, smut, oral (f recieving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cockwarming

note: ehhh i don't really know how to feel about this but i wanted to post something, once again not proofread! also i have a looooong flight later this week so pls send in some requests so i can entertain myself during it! <3

you and lando had dated for a little over two years when you decided to call it quits. it wasn't messy; you two had mutually decided to stay as friends. and for the few months that you had been just that, it had worked well so far.

that's why lando had decided to invite you over for the monaco grand prix, insisting that you should spend a few days prior with him so you two could catch up and spend some time together.

as friends, of course.

it took him a few days to convince you, but you finally agreed. and that's why you found yourself walking down the corridor that led to his apartment, suitcase in hand. you could hear his giggles already from the other side of the hall, the sound bringing a smile to your face.

as you opened the door with the keys that he had insisted you should keep after breaking up, for emergencies (even when you lived in a total different country), you heard him talking.

"hey, chat!" you heard him say. you should've guessed he would use his days at home to stream like he used to. "guess who's here!"

you smiled as you walked to the room he was in. the fans had always loved you; you saw the edits they made of your relationship, how everyone used to lose their minds over the way you two looked at each other when you decided to make an appearance on one of his streams.

utterly in love.

and of course, you saw how everyone couldn't believe it when he had announced the end of your relationship.

it's not like any of you had expected it either, but you knew it was for the best or the relationship would consume one of you. but you were happy you had managed to make a friendship work, not really wanting to lose lando. and of course, his fans were excited to see you again.

he turned his chair around as you entered the room, his smile widening as soon as he saw you. you walked his way, happily waving at the camera. normally, he would grab your waist and pull you into his lap.

but this time he didn't.

so you stood there, right next to his chair. and as much as you knew that was how things were, it didn't fell completely right to you.

"i think i'm gonna head to bed," you interrupted after a few minutes in which you talked with him and with the viewers, answering a few questions just like you used to do before everything went down.

but after a long flight and a taxi ride to his house, you felt exhausted and all you wanted was to lie down and call it a day.

lando reached to mute his mic before he could answer you, turning to look at your face as he spoke.

"take my bed, i'll sleep in the spare room," he said. you were certain that the fans would try to decipher what you were saying later, but you didn't really care.

you thought about what he was proposing. it would feel weird, sleeping in his bed without him, so you weren't really convinced about it. and he must had seen it in your face, because before you could say anything, he added:

"come on, y/n". you're tired and the spare bed isn't even made," he looked at you with soft, pleading eyes.

you knew he still wanted the best for you, so you sighed in defeat and accepted his offer with a nod of your head.

after saying goodbye to the chat, you left the room to get ready for bed. as you went through your daily night routine in the bathroom, you noticed how everything you had left there behore the break-up was still in its place.

it looked like you had never left.

you tried not to think too much about it, there could be multiple reasons why he had decided to keep all your stuff. he definitely had moved on, right? it had been months since you two ended things.

you brushed it off, not really wanting it to get to your head and then walked to his room. everything was just like you remembered. damn, he even kept some pictures of you on his wall.

with your pajamas on, you climbed into his bed and covered your body with the soft sheets, the smell of him quickly washing all over you.

you rolled around with a sigh, the bed feeling way too big now that he wasn't next to you to wrap hismself around you. you were unable to sleep as your mind filled with all the nights spent in that exact same mattress between laughs, kisses and endless conversations.

you missed the feeling of his arms around your waist, the sound of his snores and the warmth of his body enveloping you every night.

with your mind racing with all the memories that wouldn't leave your brain, you realized it had been hours since you got in bed when you checked the time on your phone. the house was completely silent by that moment, so you figured lando was already asleep.

you sighed and got up, wandering to the kitchen silentely to not wake him up, with the intention of making yourself a tea that would hopefully help you sleep.

୨୧

sat on the counter, you contemplated the city lights with a warm mug of tea in your hands. the only light that illuminated the kitchen was te one that came out of your room. lando's room.

you were lost in your own thoughts, so you didn't notice his figure walking towards you.

"is that seat taken?" his voice made you jump a little in surprise, swearing under your breath as you turned to look at him, simply shaking your head in response. "sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he added with a chuckle, sitting on the stool right next to you.

you didn't really know what to say, so silence fell between you two while you just stared at each other. despite of it being dark, you could appreciate his messy curls, the spark on his eyes and the sly smile that beautifully decorated his lips.

"can't slep?" his voice was low and tender as he brokw the silence.

"bed feels too big."

at your answer, he just nodded. he kept quiet for a few seconds, pensive, and you could see that he was wondering wheter what he was about to say was appropriate or not.

"you know, as much as it hurts... i'm happy that you're moving on," he finally broke the silence, his words hitting you like a truck.

"i'm not... what do you mean?" you asked in confussion, but your mind was more focused on the fact that the possibility of you moving on hurt him.

"i've seen the pictures."

despite of the sadness that his whisper hid, you knew he wasn't mad at you. he had always said that he wanted you to be happy, whether it was with or without him.

silly of him to think that anyone else could ever make you as happy as he once did.

"just a friend," you mumbled, knowing that he was talking about the guy in your latest posts. but he was nothing more than a friend to you, not even close. "not really my type," you joked, earning a little smile from his lips.

once again, the silence felt deafening as he didn't give you an answer. your nerves were starting to kick in and so, in an attempt to try and make it feel less awkward between you two, you gazed back to the window.

"do you ever miss me?" he whispered again seconds later, the simple question making you freeze.

the answer was easy: yes, like crazy. but you couldn't just say that.

as he waited for you to reply, you felt his eyes on you, curious about what you would answer. and you swore he could hear your heart racing in your chest.

"sometimes, yeah," you finally decided to give him the truth.

or part of it, because confessing that it hadn't been a day in which he didn't cross your mind at least twice a day made you feel too exposed and vulnerable.

you halted when you felt his hand creeping up your legs slowly, stopping when he reached your thigh.

"i miss you, too," his murmur sent you a shiver down your spine, and he was looking up at you from where he was sitting, with puppy eyes.

you knew damn well what those words meant, and you felt your heart breaking at your own answer.

" i don't think it's a good idea, lan," you murmured, not able to hold his gaze for long.

"i know", he uttered, and you felt him sigh, but his hand stayed in your leg. "i'm sorry."

when you heard his simple apology, you closed yout eyes and tried to keep your tears from falling down your cheeks, but you failed miserably.

you knew he was apologizing for not being his best self during the last weeks of your relationship. at first, you had tried to convince yourself it only was a rough patch, but it was burning you down.

and, when you asked him for some time, he agreed. he knew he hadn't been the best boyfriend to you during that time, and he hated seeing you suffer because of him. so he ultimately decided to set you free.

"i'll never take you for granted again," he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears that fell down your face.

you hadn't noticed that he had stoop up from the stool and positioned himself between your legs, but having him so close again made your heart feel warm. and you looked down, knowing that if your eyes met his green orbits you'd throw yourself back right into his arms.

"lan..."

"i swear, y/n," he interrupted you; you could see his eyes were also watery, tears threatening to come out as well, but he held them back as he kept talking. "i know i fucked up, but it won't happen again."

closing your eyes, you sighed. your fingers softly wrapped around his wrist as you kept silently crying.

"please," his whisper made you sob, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and never let go of him. "i promise."

as you took in his words, your hand slid to his neck and he rested his forehead against yours. your breaths were mixing together and you nodded your head slightly, giving him your final answer with that small gesture.

before you could think about it, his lips were on yours. soft, just as you remembered, and you could taste both your tears on his lips. he kissed you slowly, tenderly, as if he didn't want you to slip out of his fingers again.

and you knew he didn't.

"i've missed this," he sighed in between kisses, pulling you a little closer, his arms now wrapped around your waist. "i've missed you, baby."

at the sweet pet name that you never thought you'd be hearing from his lips again, you exhaled with a smile.

"want to join me in bed?" you asked in a whisper, your fingers softly brushing against the skin of his neck. you wanted nothing more than to sleep next to him again, so close that one would think you two were literally attached at the hip.

"you're inviting me to my bed?" he chuckled as his arms went lower on your body, pulling you closer and picking you up from the counter.

"our bed," you corrected him with a giggle of your own.

he planted a soft kiss on your lips and walked you back to his room, wrapped in his arms. he lied you down on the mattress gently, keeping his body over yours. your gazes locked for a few seconds before his lips attacked yours hungrily, the tenderness of the previous interactions now long gone.

your hands roamed all over each other's bodies, clothes soon flying everywhere as both your breaths got heavier.

he started trailing small, wet kisses down your breasts and torso, his hands carefully pulling your underwear down your legs. he spread your open for him and positioned himself between your thighs, looking up at you from the edge of the bed.

you slightly nodded, giving him permission to go on. a long sigh left your lips as soon as you felt his lips pressing a soft kiss on your sensitive bud, and your fingers instinctively got lost in his curls, urging him closer.

"you're so gorgeous, baby," he mumbled, his hot breath against your slick making you moan softly.

you felt his tongue flatten against you and he started licking your cunt as if he was starving. a smug expression plastered on his face when your back arched as his lips found your clit again and he sucked, fingers tugging on his hair.

"fuck, lando..." you stuttered, your legs closing around his head as you felt the knot on your lower stomach about to snap. a small groan escaped his lips, his hands gripping around your thighs, surely leaving small bruises on your smooth skin.

soon, the warmth of his tongue on your pussy felt too overwhelming and your orgasm didn't take long to wash over you, leaving you a moaning mess under his touch.

as you came down from your climax, he got rid of his boxers and hovered over you again, his lips finding yours once more. as you tasted yourself on his tongue, you hummed contently into the kiss, your fingers finding their wait to his curls again.

"you alright, love?" he gently asked, taking a minute to look into your eyes.

"need you inside of me," you panted, your legs hooking at each side of his body as you pulled him closer.

he locked his lips with yours as he teased your folds with his cock, both of you moaning into the other's mouth at the friction. he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside of you, letting you adjust to his size.

"so fucking tight for me, baby," his voice sounded breathless as he started thrusting into you without a hurry.

he took it slow, his movements almost lazy but deep.

and god, did it feel good.

you held each other tightly as he kept that slow pace that you two seemed to be enjoying. he reveled in the way your sweet moans filled the room and your nails drew crescent moons on his shoulders, your face contorting in pleasure as he stretched you out deliciously.

feeling your second orgasm starting to build up, your pussy clamped down on him, drawing him even deeper inside of you; which resulted in a low grunt from his lips.

"baby, i'm gonna... fuck..." you whimpered, unable to even form a proper sentence as the pressure in your lower stomach increased again.

"look at me, love," he groaned, and you did as he had asked.

with your gazes locked in each other's, it only took the two of you a few strokes to come undone, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him cumming inside of you and leaving you weak under his body.

he collapsed on top of you, a little winded as he left a sweet kiss on your lips before moving to lay down on the mattres, pulling you with him.

"i love you," he uttered, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as he kept his cock buried deep inside of you.

"i love you, lan," you mumbled, your face finding the spot between his jaw and his shoulder as you caught your breath, feeling yourself slowly drifting off to sleep with your nose nuzzled on his neck.

[roaringroa]

i have two halloween parties to go to this weekend (one friday night and the other saturday night) and two costumes to wear, should i wear the sonic onesie for the first party and the wednesday addams dress for the second or vice versa

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

New Fear

I have been on tumblr a long time. A looooong time. Far longer than I should have been, really.

And I've been arguing with schmucks about birds being dinosaurs... pretty much that whole time. Folks tend to get angry when a dinosaur blog posts birds, after all. It happens.

And while the game of whack a mole is ancient, it's not unpredictable. Usually, it ends in one of two ways:

the person admits they were wrong, and they back down

the person stops arguing with me and blocks me

I'm okay with either one, really. the former is ideal, the latter at least brings me peace.

Never before this past weekend has someone insisted they were right no matter what I say

And this isn't a coincidence.

Over the past few decades, anti-science sentiment has risen worldwide. I mean you just have to look at the COVID19 pandemic, or general reactions to the problems of climate change.

While of course people who think their opinion matters more than evidence have always existed, they have never been quite this bold before.

The idea that the colloquial definition of dinosaur matters, at all, is a completely new idea and one that has no basis in reality.

And yet, multiple people this past weekend argued exactly that.

And it sounds exceptionally similar to the idea that people could pick and choose things about COVID19 to believe, or the general republican position on science (only things that back up their bigotry are true).

It really seems to reflect a general increase in anti science sentiment and public anti-intellectualism.

Reality isn't actually up for debate. Reality isn't actually subjective. And science is the measure of reality

This isn't the same as the biases of society impacting science and making it worse. Saying "what people think is more important than science" is not the same as saying "science forgot a very important variable / factor / to consider data gained by different cultures / to have a wide variety of perspectives/ etc."

And allowing people to continue to perpetuate and believe in delusions leads directly to the spread of misinformation, leading to more people not understanding reality, and so on

This matters because reality matters. Because the reality of our world is not something we can change or escape. And, in fact, us ignoring the reality of the world - like thinking we can have infinite growth on a finite planet - is directly leading to the destruction of that world (climate change).

I am terrified of the rise of anti-science sentiment. I am terrified of the rise of cherry picking, deciding reality is what you want it to be, ignoring evidence. We see this from purely scientific topics all the way to social justice (how much of racism is ignoring the evidence of a) race being a social construct and b) how much racism impacts people's lives? Almost all of it).

This is bigger than birds being dinosaurs or evolution or climate change. This is about our society going on a deeply disturbing and self-destructive path.

And I really don't know what to do about it.