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mermaidsirennikita · 4 years

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books (in the time of corona)

PART I: ADULT EDITION

Let’s get real--we’re all going fucking insane.

Therefore, I’m recommending some books with which you can kill time. I’m breaking them into categories--the romance category including several subgenres but by and large covering books that focus more heavily on the romance than anything else. These will all be adult books; I’m doing a separate page for YA recommendations.

I’ll be adding to this list as I finish books that I feel belong here.

ROMANCE

A Knight in Shining Armor by Jude Deveraux. A young woman is abandoned by her scoundrel of a boyfriend, only to find a literal medieval knight in shining armor. Pure 80′s cheese, a classic in the time travel subgenre long before Outlander ever happened.

The Circle Trilogy by Nora Roberts. Six sexy people, three men and three women in Roberts fashion, travel across time and parallel dimensions to fight an evil vampire and her undead army. Come for three fun romances, stay in particular for the “virgin bookworm queen captures the heart of the formerly evil 1,000 Irish vampire” ship.

The Hating Game by Sally Thorne. Rival coworkers who’ve always hated each other compete for the same job--until maybe? They start? Hooking up?

From Lukov with Love by Mariana Zapata. A down on her luck singles figure skater pairs up with the pairs champion she’s always despised... Unless they in fact, in a STUNNING TWIST, do not hate each other?

Pestilence by Laura Thalassa. A BIT ON THE NOSE RIGHT NOW, but I promise that this tale of a hot virgin Horseman of the Apocalypse spreading his plague and the one woman brave enough to fuck him is WORTH IT. As is the sequel, War.

My Lady’s Choosing by Kitty Curran. A literal choose your own adventure novel, but the adventures bodice ripping Regency romance plots!!!

The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang. A sweet and smart woman on the autism spectrum hires a male escort to teach her to be good at sex. Shit goes DOWN from there.

The Flatshare by Beth O’Leary. She works days; he works nights. She needs a cheap place to stay, and he needs a roommate. So they share a flat and even a bed (sleeping on opposite sides and never at the same time) only communicating through post-it notes throughout the apartment. What could go wrong?

Marriage for One by Ella Maise. She can only get her inheritance if she’s married. Good thing a glacial attorney has offered to marry her out of nowhere, only for paper purposes. What could go wrong???

The Worst Best Man by Mia Sosa. Lina is a wedding planner who was left at the altar. Max is the younger brother of the man who left her, and apparently convinced him to do the leaving. What happens when they work together?

Get A Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert. Chloe suffers from a chronic illness, which means that she’s never had a life--and so she compiles a list that will help her get one. On the list? Meaningless sex. Which she won’t have with her building’s superintendent, even though he’s really down to help her cross off all the other items, riiiight?

HISTORICAL FICTION

Passion by Jude Morgan. The dramatic and intense height of Romantic England, told from the perspectives of Caroline Lamb, mistress of Lord Byron; August Leigh, his sister and lover; Mary Shelley; and Fanny Brawne, fiancee of John Keats.

Girl with a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier. Impoverished Griet becomes a maid in the household of the painter Vermeer, becoming his muse after he realizes that she has a natural eye--much to the dismay of his wife.

Snow Flower and The Secret Fan by Lisa See. In nineteenth century China, best friends Lily and Snow Flower follow each other through emotional and cultural revolutions, communicating through the secret language of fans.

The Memoirs of Cleopatra by Margaret George. Cleopatra recounts her life story, from her earliest memory, through her affairs with Caesar and Antony, and her end.

Mistress of Rome by Kate Quinn. In Domitian’s Rome, a Jewish girl rises from the position of lady’s slave to the emperor’s mistress through wiles and scheming.

The Tiger Queens by Stephanie Thornton. The rise and fall of Genghis Khan’s empire, as told through the women of his family--from his favorite wife to a clever daughter-in-law.

At the Water’s Edge by Sara Gruen. A socialite follows her incompetent to Scotland as he struggles to find the Loch Ness Monster and redeem his ancestor’s name--finding herself and questioning her life in the process.

A Year of Ravens. A collection of short stories by different authors, all centering on Boudica’s rebellion through the eyes of her countrymen and her enemies.

Feast of Sorrow by Crystal King. A slave becomes a chef in the treacherous household of a social climber struggling to gain the favor or Caesar August.

Fatal Throne. Six authors tell the stories of Henry VIII’s wives, all from their differing perspectives.

Daisy Jones and The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid. The rise and fall of a 1970s rock band is charted through the recollections of its members--as they recall what drove them apart, and in particular the intense relationship between the leader singers.

THRILLERS

The Girl in 6E by A.R. Torre. A woman with murderous impulses locks herself in her apartment to keep the public safe, making a living as a camgirl. She’s left torn between morals and impulse when she begins to suspect that one of her “fans” is dangerous.

Little Deaths by Emma Flint. In 1960s America, a single mother finds her personal life and image called into question when she’s accused of murdering her two young children.

My Sister, The Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite. A nurse covers up her beautiful sister’s murders, only to be caught between loyalties when the doctor she loves falls for said sister.

The Last Mrs. Parrish by Liv Constantine. A plain “nobody” transforms herself in order to steal a high society housewife’s husband, only to deal with more than she bargained for.

The Wife Between Us by Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen. A woman obsesses over her ex-husband’s new fiancee, leading her to disturbing lengths.

The Other Woman by Sandie Jones. After meeting her ideal man, a woman must contend with his possessive mother, who will do anything to maintain her hold over him.

Something in the Water by Catherine Steadman. A couple on their dream honeymoon find something in the water that will change the course of their life together.

The Au Pair by Emma Rous. The day Seraphine and her twin brother were born, their mother flung herself off a cliff and their nanny disappeared. Decades later, Seraphine discovers a photo taken of her parents just before her mother’s death--with only one baby. The only person who holds the key to the mystery? The au pair.

My Lovely Wife by Samantha Downing. A couple keeps the spark alive through murder.

Lock Every Door by Riley Sager. A young woman takes a job apartment-sitting in a high-end Manhattan building. Shortly after she befriends another sitter, the girl goes missing--with everyone else acting like nothing is amiss.

The Wives by Tarryn Fisher. Thursday is one of her husband’s three wives, though she’s never met the other two. When she finally does meet the third wife, she discovers a woman far different from what she expected--and covered in bruises.

FANTASY/SUPERNATURAL/HORROR

Daughter of the Forest by Juliet Marillier. Sorcha is the youngest of seven children in medieval Ireland. When her stepmother curses her six older brothers to live as swans, Sorcha agrees to weave them shirts of painful thistles, all the while remaining silent, to break the spell.

Black Pearls by Louise Hawes. A collection of dark fairy tale retellings.

The Incarnations by Susan Barker. A man receives letters from an anonymous source, detailing his supposed past lives throughout historical China.

Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust. A dark Snow White retelling, with a stepmother whose goals extend far beyond the princess.

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo. Alex Stern is discovered as the sole survivor of a brutal multiple murder, and is promptly scooped up by a group charged with monitoring the occult societies at Yale. Now disguised as a university student, Alex must figure out who’s been murdering locals, while also hiding what happened the night she lived.

The Silent Companions by Laura Purcell. A young widow in Victorian England is sent to her husband’s country estate to wait out her pregnancy, and is not alarmed to discover a “silent companion” (a painted wooden figure) in the house. But when the figure’s eyes begin following her, she is sucked into a history beyond her imagination.

Circe by Madeline Miller. The story of the woman who would seduce Odysseus, from her beginnings as a plain witch born of Helios and a mother who couldn’t care less. A classic rise to power story.

CONTEMPORARY LIT

Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows by Balli Kaur Jaswal. Down on her luck Nikki takes up a job as a creative writing class instructor for the Punjabi widows in her West London neighborhood. It turns out that the widows thought she was there to teach them to write in English--which leads to the class becoming a place for them to share their stories orally instead. And it turns out that they’re a bit... erotic.

An American Marriage by Tayari Jones. Upwardly mobile newlyweds Celestina and Roy have their lives upended when Roy is falsely accused of a terrible crime and sent to prison for twelve years. When he’s released early after five, he returns home to find that Celestina has changed completely, and their marriage is entirely unknown.

Stay With Me by Ayobami Adebayo. A young Nigerian couple has always been against polygamy; but after the wife fails to get pregnant, her in-laws show up on their doorstep with a second wife.

NON-FICTION/MEMOIR

Harem: The World Behind The Veil by Alev Lytle Croutier. An examination of the Ottoman Empire’s harem culture, focusing on the women within.

Love For Sale: A World History of Prostitution by Nils Johan Ringal. Not really a GLOBAL history of prostitution, but a good introduction starting with ancient times and going into the cases of more recent madams in America, with a strong case for legalization worldwide.

Georgiana: Duchess of Devonshire by Amanda Foreman. A readable biography of the famously scandalous and tragic duchess, to be read while you kill time rewatching “The Duchess” starring Keira Knightley.

Lucrezia Borgia: Life, Love, and Death in Renaissance Italy by Sarah Bradford. A fair but none-too-precious assessment of one of Renaissance Italy’s most controversial women, and an analysis of her relationships with her father and brother.

The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn by Eric Ives. While you’re quarantining, you might as well read the definitive Anne Boleyn biography, yes? This one is responsible for much of the modern attitude on Anne.

Queen of Fashion: What Marie Antoinette Wore to the Revolution by Caroline Weber. A fascinating analysis of Marie Antoinette’s political life through her clothes.

The Monster of Florence by Douglas Preston and Mario Spezi. An analysis of the infamous, unsolved “Monster of Florence” case. One of the most gruesome serial killers in Italy’s history, the monster’s crimes were pinned on several different men, and even investigated by the prosecutor who botched the Amanda Knox case.

The Forger’s Spell: A True Story of Vermeer, Nazis, and the Greatest Art Hoax of the Twentieth Century by Edward Dolnick. An examination of the case of Han van Meegeren, a painter who forged and sold many Dutch master fakes, and the pretentious art world that let him get away with it for years.

The Secret History of the Mongol Queens: How the Daughters of Genghis Khan Rescued His Empire by Jack Weatherford. A study of the women in Genghis Khan’s family, and in particular those that kept his empire from falling to ruin after his death. A good companion read with Stephanie Thornton’s fiction novel Tiger Queens mentioned above.

Chasing Aphrodite: The Hunt for Looted Antiquities at the World’s Richest Museum by Jason Felch and Ralph Frammolino. How did the Getty Museum end up with so many stolen artifacts? This book aims to find out.

The Creation of Anne Boleyn by Susan Bordo. A different kind of Anne Boleyn book, studying her portrayal in culture and fiction--complete with input from Natalie Dormer following her portrayal of Anne Boleyn on The Tudors.

Blood Sisters: The Women Behind the Wars of the Roses by Sarah Gristwood. An examination of the women of the houses of Lancaster and York during their famous, long-running conflict--and how these women had an impact on battles and politics alike.

The Dragon Behind the Glass: A True Story of Power, Obsession, and the World’s Most Coveted Fish by Emily Voigt. The author delves into why people are so obsessed with the arowana, a rare and exotic fish, to the point that they’ll commit murder--and becomes wrapped up in the fascination herself.

The Rules Do Not Apply by Ariel Levy. Over the course of a month, Ariel Levy watches everything she held true in her life--her financial security, her career, her marriage, and her pregnancy--fall apart. Levy must confront what it means to live an “unconventional” and “free” life, only for that to become meaningless, and pick up the pieces.

From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to find The Good Death by Caitlin Doughty. Doughty recounts her global travels to observe and study different funerary and death rituals, recounting and analyzing her experiences with respect and personality.

Lady Killers: Deadly Women Throughout History by Tori Telfer. A collection of female serial killers, analyzing why they did what they did and the cultural legacy they left behind.

Severed: A History of Heads Lost and Heads Found by Frances Larson. A history of decapitated human heads, and what different cultures have done with them.

From Scratch: A Memoir of Love, Sicily, and Finding Home by Tembi Locke. Tembi Locke was never truly accepted by her husband’s Sicilian family, as a black American woman. But when Saro dies young of cancer, she finds herself more deeply entwined her in-laws, as she works to pick up the pieces. (Warning: one of the most achingly romantic books I’ve ever read; but it will destroy you.)

#books #book recommendations #book recs #self reblog for new addition

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blkgirlcafe · 4 years

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Control PT. 1

Read the tease here...

Henry Cavill x Jazmine (OC)

Warning: Smut, Cheating, age gap

Word Count: 2,393

Flashbacks are in italics, text messages are bold and italics.

The valet opened his door, Henry stood tall, smoothing his midnight black tux to make sure there were no wrinkles. He even went as far as to style his hair in the way Jazmine likes.

Henry's thick black curly hair was pushed back, one curl dangled over his hairline. The valet got into his black Ashton Martin BD11. He walked the red carpet to the door keeping his eye out for Jazmine.

He frowned when he didn’t see her or her husband, maybe that hadn’t got here yet.

Henry found his table, his name written in pretty calligraphy. He looked at the other name cards and noted that she would be here and at his table. He walked to the bar, ordering a scotch.

Women fawned over him and tried to get him to talk, but he didn’t want them. These women were weak compared to her, and would never be able to control him at all.

He groaned inwardly when he finally saw them enter the ballroom. Her arm wound into her husbands. It set his chest on fire to not have these moments with her.

Most of, if not all the men in the room had their eyes on her. She was younger than most of their wives, being only 22. Espresso brown skin that sparkled in the light, she was breathtaking. At 5’7 she was the perfect height, she made a man feel like a man. Her normally curly hair was straight and fell like a black curtain to her shoulders. Unlike these other women her body was natural, all her. Breast that were firm and soft, he could spend hours suckling her. He thought about how he would grab her ass when she rode him. The golden dress complimented her skin perfectly.

Her husband, Viktor Adrik was an Russian oil tycoon who had his hands in many things, he was beyond rich, but so was Henry. But Henry had something her husband didn’t and that was power. He was a powerful man, the type of power that people wanted to be around because it would open doors for them.

He locked eyes with Jazmine, she smiled at him and his heart fluttered.

Henry made his way over to the couple, holding out his hand for Viktor, “Good to see you Vik, how are you?”

“Just fine, glad to be home for a while, the back and forth with Russia can be a lot.”

“I am sure, and Mrs. Adrik, you look lovely this evening.” He bent down, giving her hand a lingering kiss.

“Thank you Henry, I love that tux.”

Henry tried not to smile too bright, he loved pleasing her. He followed the couple to the table they shared, another couple also seated there.

“Babe switch chairs with me, I want to sit next to John.”

Henry watched as her face did a slight frown, did she not want to sit next to him?

“Fine but I hear too much business and we are switching back.”

The dress she wore slid up when she crossed her legs and all Henry could think about was how he loved being between her thighs, tasting her. He tried to push the thought away.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder before showing him her phone, a meme pulled up.

Henry read it before cracking a smile, he loved when she shared things like this with him.

“Ugh I wish this would start already, I wanna go home.” She whined to no one in particular.

It made Henry think of how they meet.

——

Henry knocked one the door of the lavish home, holding flowers and a bottle of vintage wine. He had met Viktor at the community country club and they golfed together, found out they were basically neighbors, living down the block from one another, and next thing he knew he was invited to dinner.

He could tell someone else was here, there were two other cars outside.

Henry couldn’t help himself, his jaw dropped when the girl opened the door. She was beyond stunning.

“Hey, you good?” She asked.

“Yes Sorry, is this the Adrik Home?”

She giggled and he swore he never heard a more pleasant sound.

“Our final guest, Come in Henry!” Viktor's voice boomed in the foyer.

Viktor wasn’t a small man, at 6’5 and 255 pounds, he looked like he wrestled bears for fun. Viktor pulled Henry in, pretty much yanking him across the threshold.

“That lovely lady is my wife Jazmine, babe this is the guy I was telling you about, Henry Cavill, Founder and CEO of Cavill enterprise, and future member of Congress.”

Henry held his hand out for her to shake it, her touch soft and tender.

“Nice to meet you.”

Before she could respond, Viktor had him whisked away to meet the others, which included an oil CEO and a lawyer. No one had their wife or girlfriend there.

Jazmine disappeared but Henry kept an eye out for her. Eventually she came into the sitting room, looping her arms around Viktor's neck, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Henry found himself jealous of another man, something that hasn't happened since private school.

“Dinner ready guys.”

They sat around a table that had the food in serving bowls.

“So I made veggie lasagna , homemade bread, and a Greek salad, I hope you guys enjoy it.” Jazmine beamed at the table but it seemed directed at him. Henry took a sip of water.

“Didn't know you were vegetarian Viktor!” One of the men teased.

“I’m not but I’ll try anything she cooks.”

“Not to be nosy, but just how did you two meet?”

Henry leaves forward wanting to hear it all.

“You tell them Vik, you tell it better.”

He cleared his throat, “ Well I was giving a speech at her school on being one of the youngest billionaires and whatnot, and she walked in late, right in the middle of my speech. So I say to the room, being on time is a sign of respect and went back to my speech. Afterwards she waited to see me.”

“I waited an hour to be exact.” She cut in.

“Yes an hour to meet me and you know what she does?”

“What?” Henry and the other guy said at the same time.

“She slaps the fuck out of me, saying she was lost and accidentally stepped into this room. By now my security has her by the arms and she is spitting hot fire. I tell her to calm down, that I wouldn’t call the cops as long as she went out on a date with me. I figured any woman that could slap me was worth getting to know.” He chuckled.

“Was it a little slap or a …”

“No she slapped the shit out of me, I saw stars for a few seconds.” Viktor laughed.

“I’m sorry babe.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s that fiery temper that got me.”

Henry tried to laugh wishing it was him on the other side. Dinner continued as normal, the men mostly talking business. Jazmine kept mostly to herself. She got up to clear their plates and Henry decided to help her.

“It’s fine I got it.”

“I don’t mind helping.” He grabbed a few dishes and followed her to the kitchen.

The sway of her hips drew him in, he wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her close. Henry shook his head as if to clear the thought.

He sat the dishes on the counter next to the sink and she began to prepare dishwater.

It was a little awkward to stand there, “you guys don’t have a maid?” He blurted out.

“No, I prefer to do it myself, we have a housekeeper that comes by twice a week to deep clean and do laundry but otherwise I prefer it myself.”

“And you cook, that meal was fantastic by the way.”

“Thank you, I love cooking, a little hobby of mine since Vik doesn’t want me to work.”

“Oh he doesn’t?” He leaned against the counter.

“Nope, isn’t that how rich guys like it. Keep their woman at home?”

“I don’t have a woman.” He responded.

“If you did, would you make her stay home?”

“I don’t believe in making a woman do anything. If my woman wanted to work I would support that but I also would tell her not to over stress herself.”

“Well your one of the sweet ones Henry.”

“Henry! We are headed to the study, babe get my scotch please.” Viktor stood by the kitchen entrance.

“Alright here I come.” She dried her hands before turning to Henry, “thanks for keeping me company.”

“No problem.” Henry followed Viktor to the study where a box of cigars were being passed around.

For the rest of the evening all he could think about was her. The way her plump lips would smile at her, her scent, the way she spoke, the way she moved.

----

“Babe I’m bored.” Jazmine whined.

Henry wished he could whisk her away, take her home, to his home.

“Behave.” Viktor gave her a stern warning before turning back to John.

She rolled her eyes and got up, dipping off into one of the many hallways in the ballroom.

Henry waited a moment before following her, when he got to the hallway he tried a few doors, all locked. He walked deeper into the building, Jazmine pulled him into a room.

“I knew you would come look for me.”

“Always my love.”

She pushed him against the door, he always let her take control. Jazmine's arm went around his shoulder as she kissed him.

Henry tried not to moan too loud, never knowing who would be out there. Just imagine the scandal if he was found with another man's wife.

“You miss me?” She asked, not giving him a chance to answer before her tongue slid back into his mouth.

If he had answered, Henry would have said, ‘Of course I miss you, always, I want to wake up to you, fall asleep with you, have a life with you.’

Her hands groped the front of his pants.

“Ma’am please.” He quietly begged.

“Tell me what you want?”

“You.” He whimpered as her hand slid into his pants, gently groping his hard dick.

“I think I can make that happen.”

She dropped to her knees in front of him, pulling his dick out.

Henry focused on her glossy lips as it wrapped around his hard member, a hiss escaping his mouth.

He knew he couldn’t touch her, risk messing up her hair or makeup and her husband might notice and ask a question, he fisted his hands in his side.

She pulled away and he whined, “Call down boy, I plan to finish, just wanted you to know you looked gorgeous tonight.”

“For you Ma’am.”

Her mouth stretched around him and he groaned. Henry knew he couldn’t cum unless she said so, unless she gave him permission.

Jazmine tongue did things to him, in his mouth, sliding down his chest, on his dick, it was amazing and he never felt anything like that.

She pulled him out of her mouth and he almost begged her to put it back. She licked the underside of his shaft, one hand cupping his balls.

“Fuck I miss you.” He whistled.

It wasn’t just the sex he missed, he could get sex anywhere. It was her he missed, her personality, her presence, her.

Jazmine deepthroated him and he had to fight to keep standing, he was ready to cum already but knew he couldn’t unless he said so.

“Henry you can cum, cum in my mouth, but don’t fuck up my makeup.”

She went back to sucking him, they made eye contact as her lips stretched around him.

“Fuck, here it comes.”

He came right in her mouth, she never once released him. Even as he softened in her mouth, Jazmine kept him there, gently swirling her tongue.

Henry fixed himself, bending down and giving her a kiss.

“I wish I could have you tonight.”

“You might, I’m working on something I’ll let you know before we leave.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He gave her another kiss.

She used her phone to fix her lip gloss, checking her makeup in the camera.

“Go ahead Henry, I’ll be out in a few.”

He didn’t want to leave her, but he had to cherish each moment he got with her. He left the room, looking both ways as he ducked out and went back to the table.

Viktor was still engrossed in conversation with John.

Henry sat at the table and looked at his friend, he just didn’t know what he had in Jazmine. If Jazmine was his, he would never ignore her, she would get what she wanted.

Jazmine reappeared moments later, the table cleared of dinner dishes as dessert would soon be served. She sat next to Viktor who turned towards her.

“I’m sorry baby.”

“Whatever Vik.” She brushed him off.

Henry tried not to look too interested. She took a sip of her wine.

“I’m ready to go Viktor.”

He turned back towards her voice low, “now isn’t the time to be a brat.”

“If I am ready to go, I am ready to go.”

“Fine go home, I’ll meet you there.”

“If I leave by myself I am going to Claire’s.”

He looked at her angry, ready to call her bluff.

“Fine go.” He brushed her off.

Henry watched Jazmine get yo, giving him a wink before she walked away and out the door. How long did he wait before he drove home to see her there.

His phone dinged, it was her.

I expect you home in 30 don’t leave me waiting, is the security code the same?

Yes Ma’am it is

Good boy, I’ll see you later.

Viktor turned to him to include him in the conversation.

“Women always want their way, it isn’t enough to just provide for her. She is still young and gets into these bratty fits.”

“Don’t give in, don’t let her think she can get away with that.” John said.

Henry nodded weakly, knowing for a fact he would let you get away with it.

He couldn’t wait to get home to her.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x black woman #henry cavill x Jazmine #smuttywriter

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thebrewstorian · 4 years

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“Maybe you’ve heard of her husband? Finding Louisa Weinhard.” The Zoom 2020 PCB-AHA presentation.

Last week I was supposed to give a presentation for the Pacific Coast Branch of the American Historical Association conference. That didn't work out... For the COVID-19 reasons. But we did make it work a week later on Zoom and it was terrific!

My talk focused on Louisa Weinhard. Here’s what I said.

I started OHBA in 2013, the first of its kind in the country. 2013 is also when I met Peter Kopp [see photo above left bottom - Kopp is the author of Hoptopia: A World of Agriculture and Beer in Oregon's Willamette Valley] and we’re old hats at presenting together. Though usually we are in the same room. This talk, “Maybe you’ve heard of her husband? Finding Louisa Weinhard,” is based on an article for the Oregon Historical Quarterly I’m working on revisions for right now. I’m going to talk about women in brewing in Oregon, but first I want to talk about silence.

Archives and records repositories are filled with voices. We visit them to learn about our families, past actions of governments, and the activities of private organizations. But they are also spaces that reflect power and document the dominant narrative. Decisions are made by creators, by archivists, and by researchers about what to include and who to exclude – the result can be distortion, omission, and erasure. And so, for all the voices recorded in an archive, there are also many that have been silenced.

As anyone who has done historical research on women knows, their stories weren’t actually hidden, more often they were simply not recorded. The history of nineteenth century women’s work is often told through the story of husbands and sons. They were categorized as wives and mothers rather than business partners or owners. One issue I always cite when talking about researching women is the complications surrounding names: if their first name was recorded in newspapers (not just “Mrs.”), actually finding a maiden name to track genealogy often feels like luck.

Most (all) brewers in nineteenth century Oregon were men, but as I explored beer history more, I found the stories of early Oregon women and their work in brewing fascinating. In my research I found most women linked to breweries weren’t making beer, but I suspected they played an essential role in the businesses success (for example in running the household, child-minding, doing the books, participating in community events, etc.), and I knew that several ran the brewery for a time after their husband died.

I was preparing for an oral history in 2016 with Dana Garves, owner of BrewLab and former brewing chemist at Ninkasi, and I found a blog post she’d written called “Oregon’s First Women Brewers [1879-1908],” which included names and locations. I have since found photos of three of these women: Left to right is Fredericka Wetterer from Jacksonville, Mary Allen from Monument, and Marie Kienlen from southern Oregon. Garves also wrote about Theresa O’Brien from the north coast and Mary Mehl from the south coast. I added names of own, including Catherine Stahl and Frances Kastner from eastern Oregon; Margaret Beck from Capital Brewing in Salem, and Louisa Kiefer from Albany – she’s also Fredericka Wetterer’s sister.

But is there a way to determine the jobs they did or the role they played? I did a lot of online newspaper searching and onsite research in the places these women lived, and the short answer is no. Variables in terms of family structure, geographic location, brewery size, and available documentation make generalizations and specifics quite difficult.

But Henry Weinhard? His is a pretty familiar name and his business was extremely successful. And I was certain researching his wife would be a snap. An easy win and good practice for future work on the other women I’d identified.

I was wrong.

It turned out records for the Weinhards are scant, mostly limited to newspaper articles and ads, government records, lawsuits, and, for Henry, glowing biographies in “books about great men.”

And so I dug.

This is Louisa, who had that very famous husband. Although she was famous in her own right for generosity, as well as her involvement in local church and aid societies, her legacy is marked by both details and silences.

Not to jump to the end of the story first, but the fact that I have this picture is a true testament to my Googling superpowers. I scoured archival collections, newspapers, and books looking for a picture of her, only to fail. Finally, using a string of search terms I can’t remember, I found a 2015 reference to a portrait in an article about the Portland Community College remodel. Days before I finished the first draft of my article, I emailed their Community Relations manager and she sent me a picture of the portrait. It sat on my desk and I saved it on my phone to show people who I was writing about. We have signed the paperwork to have this transferred to the collections at OSU – I was due to pick it up the week everything closed…

Luise Wagenblast was born in Germany in 1832. She lost her mother when she was four, traveled to Missouri at fifteen, arrived in the Northwest at twenty-three, and married a man who would become famous when she was twenty-seven. By the time she died at aged eighty-five, she’d buried her husband and four of her five children.

Through online genealogy sites and local history sources, I pieced together details about Louisa’s family’s move from Waldrems, Germany, a small town about 300 miles southwest of Berlin, to Missouri to Oregon. Although she travelled to Oregon by ship, her brother Gottlieb journeyed with the 1855 wagon train led by Dr. Wilhelm Keil, founder of Christian communal settlements in Bethel (Missouri) and Aurora (Oregon) – thanks to Peter’s dad James for his work on utopian communities in Oregon because it helped me tease out whether they were part of the colony or not. They weren’t.

Through government records, I learned when she was married to Henry and when her children were born. Census records and newspapers documented the family’s moves back and forth across the Oregon / Washington border. Through the census, I also learned about her neighbors, the ages of her children, and if she had servants living in her home. While dates and names are recorded, what isn’t is the scope of her loss, which feels immense. Her son Christian Henry died in 1863 at two years old and daughter Emma Augusta in 1864 at 18 months. Her daughter Bertha Carolina (Bettie) died in 1882 of acute appendicitis at 13. Henry died in 1904 of kidney disease. Just over a year later, daughter Louise Wagner died of heart disease at thirty-two. Only daughter Anna Wessinger, who lived to 87, survived Louisa.

However, mentions in newspaper articles gave me a significant, and somewhat intimate, glimpse into her life through her community activities. She sent roses to the 1903 Portland Rose Society annual rose show and thirty pounds of sugar to support unemployed men at the Gipsy Smith Tabernacle. She donated $100 to a benefit fund to purchase artificial legs for Marjorie Mahr, an actress who lost both legs in a railway accident. When thirteen-year-old Ervilla Smith arrived at the Weinhard house in the middle of the night in 1905 after being assaulted near the Lewis & Clark Exposition fairgrounds and left on the street by a saloon; the family welcomed her, called the doctor and the police, while “Mrs. Weinhard got her something to eat and made her comfortable for the night.” She was a member of the Portland Women's Union and sent money to the Louise Home for Unmarried Mothers and Albertina Kerr Nursery Home. And during the last weeks of her life, she offered money to a woman whose husband was in prison in California so she could visit him.

I have lots of stories that could expand and fill the rest of my time: things I found out about Louisa’s siblings; brewery owners, saloon keepers, gambling, prostitution, and vice; women’s clubs in Portland; or family real estate acquisitions. But since it’s where I found the most detail, I’m going to tell you about how Louisa used that wealth and her position at the end of her life.

In the years following Henry and Louise’s deaths, it is difficult to determine how involved Louisa was in the brewery and family estate business, perhaps no more than in name as an executrix of the estate. What is clear is that she continued to support her German community. The most significant was her donation of a twenty-acre lot in Southeast Portland, worth $30,000, to build a retirement facility for elderly Germans to spend their final years “among their own people.” The Altenheim was to be the “most important of its kind in the U.S.” Newspapers reported that she wanted residents to take advantage of fresh air, good water, and rich soil; and because she valued work, also wanted “helpful occupations for charges” and imagined the home would be partially self-supporting through farming. On August 6, 1911, with 2,000 people present, the cornerstone was laid, which contained pictures of Henry and Louisa, as well as copies of Portland’s German and other daily newspapers. Louisa’s great-grandson talking later about a picture in the newspaper of Louisa at the May 1912 dedication, in an open carriage with the mayor of Portland, described her as looking like queen Victoria, “very short and very fat.” That’s the picture you see here – a find made possible by the University of Oregon’s Historic Oregon Newspapers site. I learned more about Louisa from the news coverage for the Altenheim than in most previous articles about Henry or the business. Beyond a tone-deaf comment about her appearance, I learned that she valued work, self-sufficiency, and cultural traditions, but also that she was part of a community that felt isolated from the rest of Portland. What we don’t hear are her words – in all the press coverage regarding the Altenheim there isn’t a single quote from Louisa.

The Altenheim was closed in 2003 and the building housed the German American Society offices until the property was sold to Portland Community College in 2010. And that’s where her portrait is waiting for me!

Louisa died in Portland on April 23, 1918 and was buried at the River View Cemetery. She was eighty-five years old, had been in America for seventy-one years and Portland for sixty-three. News of her death was carried in several papers.

W.G. Maclaren, General Superintendent Pacific Coast Rescue and Protective Society, wrote a letter to the editor that was an unfettered tribute to her good works and the hidden nature of her charity. He said that during the hard times of 1907, she bought $100 worth of tickets for the Portland Commons, and distributed them among “men who were out of work and in need of food and lodging.” He went on “She gave me orders that I was not to allow any unfortunate person to go away hungry and agreed to meet the expenses of feeding them.” He continued, “there never was a case of a mother or child in sickness or distress that Mrs. Weinhard knew of where she would not give assistance” and concluded she was a “good woman with one of the best hearts where human suffering was concerned that I have ever known. I believe that the people of Portland should know something of what she did during her long residence in this city for the benefit of Humanity.”

This last sentence feels like a final reminder that she gave freely to charitable causes and individual people, not for personal recognition (and maybe not for our historical record) but for the purpose of bettering others.

In researching Louisa, I found a handful of touchingly personal details that I couldn’t verify. The Weinhards supposedly had a house in Astoria and a farm of 620 acres in Yamhill County. An Oregonian article, written in 1954 when Louise Weinhard Wagner's home was being demolished, noted a 4-foot stained glass window with a woman sipping from a wine glass, said to have been installed by Louisa Weinhard as a gift with the house. The names Henry and Louise/a are handed down to subsequent generations in their family. And Louisa herself was immortalized in Brewery Block Two, a 242-unit high-rise residential building built on the location of the original Weinhard brewery in Portland.

But the last bit of sparkle to this story is a connection I made with one of her descendants on ancestry.com. I found Lizzie Hart, her great+ granddaughter, which had pictures of Louisa’s granddaughter and Lizzie’s grandmother. I wrote her and said “I’m an archivist. I have this picture of your relative and I’ve written this article about her, would you like either?” Fortunately, she wasn’t creeped out by this...

Instead, through our ongoing correspondence she has given me a more personal perspective on the Weinhard family and validated my work in this area. My research has added a dimension both the story of the women in her family and in her own personal understanding of how she fits into it. Her family story was the story of men.

I can’t end with a quote from Louisa, but I can end with one from Lizzie “What you are doing in your work -- the recovery of women's stories, painstaking as it may be to grapple in the dark room of the dominant narrative -- is such an important task to undertake on behalf of our futures.”

***

For more on archival silence, see

Carter, Rodney G.S. 2006. “Of Things Said and Unsaid: Power, Archival Silences, and Power in Silence”. Archivaria 61 (September), 215-33. https://archivaria.ca/index.php/archivaria/article/view/12541.

#louisa weinhard #prepinkboots #beer history #women in beer #Henry Weinhard #portland

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stunudo · 6 years

Text

Along This Long and Winding Path

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Featuring: Spencer Reid x the BAU team

Setting: Season 14

A/N: This is day two of my 1k Follower Grab Bag of Fics. But when I saw the formula for this day I knew it was going to be an angsty mess. Reid with Team Unity/ Wheels Up in the future. This is one way I could see the cliffhanger of season 13 being resolved, you all will probably hate me. Also, this somehow turned into a case fic. xoxo Stu

Spencer Reid had a barrel of a gun pointed at his head, his gun pointed back. If he shot her, Penelope could die, if he didn’t he would be taken prisoner into the very cult that had kidnapped his friend and fellow genius. Though the decision appeared to be containing two options, his mind began factoring all the variables, giving seemingly endless possibilities. Penelope’s voice was muffled behind the car window, “Shoot her Reid!”

Penelope Garcia, a peace loving and nurturing analyst was asking him to shoot someone. She had saved him all those years ago in a Texas hospital room, he wouldn’t let her be in danger now. Protocol be damned. He holstered his sidearm and surrendered. Suddenly the dream faded away and he woke up to face a new day.

Chief Emily Prentiss had been sitting silently at her desk for an indeterminate amount of time. There were cases piling up and there were reports due out, but her mind and her attentions kept floating off. Her sense of duty had be quelled these past few months leaving room for distraction that only masked guilt. There was a knock at the door, JJ’s cool blue eyes tried to hide her empathy.

“Kevin sent us a text to meet in the round table room,” JJ stayed in the doorway. “You ready?”

“Of course, sorry about that,” Emily closed the folder that was open on her desk, one she hadn’t even realized she had opened and stood to follow JJ to the conference room.

Kevin Lynch stood awkwardly in front of the group of profilers until JJ and Emily were seated amongst them.

“Alright, it’s a bad one,” he started, his joker grin lost on his swallowing features. “We’ve got seven sets of human remains found in the woods outside of Boise. There has been flooding in the area and that is why they were discovered. Local sheriff’s office puts the most recent body at six months, which is still tentative given the state they were in.”

“So we need to determine if there is still a threat and profile from there,” Emily added, glancing at the evidence photos on her tablet.

David Rossi was in the market for some real estate in the Bay Area, looking forward to spending more time with Kai and Joy now that he was retired. His wives and his retirements came in threes, apparently. He unconsciously checked his phone as the realtor showed him through the third overpriced yet charming house of the day. He couldn’t turn off his agent senses, but he also didn’t want to interrupt a case. He shut off the phone to stop himself from scratching the itch.

“Mr. Rossi, can you believe this kitchen?!” The realtor gushed.

Spencer Reid made his way to the day room, having slept through breakfast. He didn’t mind, he could have a cup of coffee from the nurses station, but all the sugar in the place couldn’t make it satisfactory. He found Thomas at the card table, just like every other day and silently sat down.

“Didn’t think you’d make it out today,” the man’s gruff voice disproportionate to his small frame.

Spencer’s voice was soft and slow to reply, “Some days are worse than others. Did you still want to play?”

“Why not, let them wait on us for group for once,” Thomas grinned his crooked teeth and began setting up the chess pieces.

The roads were nearly impassable and yet the BAU got to the crime scene before noon. Simmons and Alvez wore backpacks while JJ and Emily had utility belts on. Tara thought they all looked ridiculous and was instead taking pictures with her phone to send to Kevin. The bodies had been left in the position they had been found until their arrival. The mud making any close inspection nearly impossible.

“How long until we can get them to the coroners’, Agent Prentiss?”

“We don’t need much longer, given the state of the area we would be more harm than good at this point,” she explained.

“JJ, come look at this,” Alvez was crouched down over the body of a young woman.

“Those look like defensive wounds,” JJ was confused.

“She was clawing at herself like that?” Luke suggested.

“The unsub may have been using a burning agent or some kind of hallucinogen,” Tara leaned over to look at the most in tact body. Emily and Matt both shared a look when the last word was said.

Group was the hardest part of his day, but also the one he looked forward to the most. It wasn’t therapy, but it was conducted like it. It gave the staff an excuse to get everyone together before lunch was served and also brought the long term residents some socialization. The quickly rehabilitated patients were the most talkative during the sessions, but Spencer made it a point to seek out those who were less keen to share.

The introverts that didn’t seek the recognition or the attention of the group were his people, but that didn’t stop him from focusing in on one extrovert’s contributions day after day.

“How is everyone today?” She grinned her lopsided grin from her chair. “I know the weather is all over the place right now, but the courtyard is starting to see some fresh growth. You guys should really check it out.” Penelope saw some hands raise and she pointed with her right hand to pick on the next person to share.

Spencer and Thomas had entered the cafeteria, Thomas’s walker was sliding on tennis balls with faces drawn on them. His bright eyes watched Penelope as she giggled at the story someone had shared.

“Prentiss, the id on this victim flagged in Vicap,” Simmons handed Emily his tablet with Kevin’s email.

“Carol Murray. She was an unsub?”

“A victim, from Tallahassee.” Simmons pointed to the information on the screen.

“That’s a long way to move a body,” Prentiss added.

“According to the file, we worked the case,” Simmons.

“Jayge, do you remember a case in Florida, apparently there was a string of shootings for organ donors?”

“Yeah, what’s it have to do with these bodies in Idaho?” JJ’s face was in disbelief.

“One of the bodies was a victim you and Morgan saved on the case.”

“So, we going to talk today, or are you going to keep watching me during Group?” Penelope had wheeled over to him during lunch.

“Garcia,” Spencer whispered, giving her a dejected look.

“Oh, don’t Garcia me, Reid,” Penelope’s voice was nearly back to normal, her speech pathologist was thrilled with her progress. What Spencer hadn’t warned her therapist was how much natural practice she had talking.

“I know what you’re going to say, but I am not ready to hear it,” Spencer pushed his instant mashed potatoes around his tray.

“When will you be ready? When I am back to work? When I can strut around in platforms again?” Penelope clutched his forearm. “Hey, look at me Boy Wonder.”

Spencer sniffled and patted her manicured hand on his arm.

“Those things might not happen--”

“Penelope, you are making great progress--” She put her finger on his interrupting mouth.

“They might not happen, so just in case. I forgive you. You, Spencer Reid, who did precisely as I asked and shot that traitor on the spot.”

“Penelope, I can’t accept that, not yet.”

“Well, tough, because I am going to tell you every chance I get.” She grinned at him, shaking her head with attitude.

Emily stood in the conference room at the local police station, she stretched her neck before addressing the team.

“They’re sure?” she asked Alvez who had just returned from the coroners’ office.

“There was no trace of anything in their systems, but some of these bodies are beyond evidence collection.” Alvez explained.

“If this is who we think it was, there wouldn’t be traces. The question is, why here? Wouldn’t he want us to know he was targeting the victims we saved?” Simmons asked.

“We need to call Spence, this can’t just be a coincidence.” JJ crossed her arms in her folding chair.

“Reid has refused to consult in the past, what makes you think he would help now?” Simmons asked in a low tone, he was hopefully curious.

“You tell him or Penelope it’s Scratch and they will be here or the bat cave.” JJ was staring down Emily’s ‘we shouldn’t be having this conversation face’.

Emily’s head snapped back and it hung there staring at the stained drop ceiling tiles. “I do not want Garcia on this, not yet.” Emily gave in.

Spencer’s afternoons were full; he saw some patients twice a week and others only once. The road to his personal recovery started with getting his therapist’s license. He wanted to be able to approach his trauma and doubts from every angle, it led him to helping others accept and process their physical injuries and restrictions. Garcia called him her caretaker, when she wasn’t flirting with the orderlies.

She was one of a handful of patients he didn’t see, ensuring he wasn’t blurring any lines between who were his patients and who were his friends. She wouldn’t have cooperated if he had tried to make an appointment with her in the first place. He was taking notes over the last ten minutes of the hour for his final patient of the day, when the landline phone rang on his desk. He had forgotten he had a direct line at the facility.

“Dr. Reid?” He answered.

“Spence?” JJ’s voice, of course they had her call him this time.

“JJ, how did Henry’s potato battery go?” He was ignoring the professional urgency in her voice.

“Uh, fine, he wants to try other food next. But, that’s not why I called.” Spencer’s mouth ticked, he thought for two seconds before biting his lips and exhaling.

“What’s the case?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“As long as it is not a cult, I may be willing to help you out.”

“We think we found one of Scratch’s contingencies.”

“Where should I meet you?”

Penelope grew alarmed when Spencer didn’t say goodbye for the day, he always slipped her a Dum-Dum or a new trinket going into the weekend. He claimed it was for her muscle control, but she knew it was because he loved her. Which meant that his disappearing act was only because he had been taken away by someone or something else he loved.

Diana and the team battled inside her mind for the bigger dangers, she quickly wheeled back to her room and got her tablet out to Skype Kevin at Headquarters. His look of shock and dismay at her timing told Penelope she was on the right track.

“Penelope, hi, so nice to see your face,” Kevin gave his fakest smile ever.

“So, Kevin, remembering that I have, in fact, seen you naked. How long is it going to take to convince you to send me whatever my babies are working on?”

“Penelope, you are on medical leave, I am legally not allowed to share work with you or jail, all of us, jail.”

“Yeah, but think of all the juicy details I could share about you on the interwebs,” Penelope cooed.

“You’re hacking in remotely? How are you even doing this?! Not to mention that facility doesn’t have the speed for this?!”

JJ and Alvez met Spencer at the airport, Luke drove while JJ went over their findings. Spencer felt oddly comfortable in the standard issued SUV, despite not having been in the field for months.

“So your two theories are this was Scratch working a different angle or an unsub who was specifically targeting the BAU?”

“Pretty much.” Luke turned into the hotel’s parking lot.

“Have all of the victims been identified?”

“All but two, dental records on missing persons are taking a while,” JJ shrugged, clearly Kevin was a not Penelope.

“And those bodies that were identified all had ties to the team?”

“Uh, yes, though some of them are three degrees from Kevin Bacon, if you know what I’m saying.” Alvez added, sliding from the driver’s seat.

Spencer’s face constricted in to confusion, “The victims are tied to an actor?”

“No, Spence, it’s a pop culture game, ignore Luke.” JJ clucked, it was good to have his innocent side resurface after so long. They headed into the hotel for the night.

In the morning, there was word that the park rangers in the next county found a body near a cabin. Simmons and JJ went to check it out for connections. Meanwhile, Alvez, Lewis and Prentiss went over the victimology for the bodies from the mass grave with Spencer. Emily felt him doubting them and she couldn’t help but hold out hope he was right.

“Besides Carol Murray’s scratches, are there any other indicator of the use of fear or self harm?”

“Bernice De La Pena had defensive wounds, but nothing as extensive as Carol Murray’s.” Tara answered as Emily handed over photographs of the arms on the other woman.

Alvez’s phone rang, “Uh-oh, you too?! Let me put you on speaker.”

“Hey guys,” Rossi’s voice called out into the meeting space.

“Rossi?” Spencer’s voice hitched in surprise.

“Is that the kid, I knew something was up. What you got Emily?”

“Possible Scratch side attack, we’re probably jumping to the wrong conclusions, but we couldn’t be too careful.”

“That must be why Garcia left me those ominous messages. Anything you need from me?”

“Rossi, do the names Bernice De La Pena, Courtney Sanders and Stephanie Marx mean anything to you?” Tara recited from the list of identified victims.

“Not off the top of my head, should they?”

“One of the victims was a previous save for us, Carol Murray, but we aren’t seeing direct connections.” Emily continued.

“That’s why you brought in Reid?”

“One of many reasons,” Emily smirked at Spencer, he looked away. She held the phone, “We should get back at it, but we’ll keep you posted.”

“See ya, Rossi,” Luke took his phone back. “So, what are you seeing Reid?”

The body that JJ and Simmons were sent to inspect had clearly died of an animal attack, but the sheriff insisted they check out the cabin too. With little progress where the team was holed up, they decided to entertain the locals with a walk through. It was a simple, yet well decorated vacation home, it had running water, generator procured electricity, and a wood burning furnace. Matt glanced at JJ and they followed the deputy around back to the cellar.

Inside they knew they had made the right decision, there was no other word for it’s purpose than torture room. There were photographs of various women and animals pinned in different positions. JJ swallowed hard as she spotted Carol Murray’s face in unimaginable pain. Matt was already on his phone to Prentiss.

Emily closed her eyes, “Oh, thank God.”

Alvez and Spencer waited until she was done with the call before realizing their worst fears were unfulfilled. Mr. Scratch was not behind these murders.

“Spencer, I’m really sorry that we dragged you all the way out here,” Emily explained as she started gathering her things to head to the cabin and continue the investigation. “Luke will take you to the airport from here.”

“The case isn’t solved, Emily. If it’s alright with you, I would like to finish the profile. Especially since the unsub remains at large.” Spencer replied, he didn’t need to be rescued or sent away. Luke grinned, but tried to hide it as Emily’s face melted into secretively pleased.

“It’s good to have you back, SSA Reid,” Chief Prentiss nodded.

“It’s still Doctor, Emily,” Spencer smirked as he secured his messenger bag over his shoulder.

“You’re damn right it is,” Tara’s nose scrunched up and she patted him on the back.

The elevator inside FBI Headquarters still smelled the same, Spencer noticed as he was wedged beside his former teammates. They had registered him as a consultant with special clearance if he ever changed his mind about leaving the job. So with his special pass around his neck he stepped out into the familiar bullpen. It looked the same, even his desk remained untouched in his absence, the fact caused him mixed emotions.

Kevin came storming from the tech office in a near fit, “Chief Prentiss, hi, uh, I just want it, on the record, that there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t restrain her, she’s already partially paralyzed.”

Slowly Penelope made her appearance, “Oh boo-who, Tech Boy here couldn’t keep me from making sure my team was alright. Emily is not going to slap you with a sanction, Kevin.”

“But I could slap you with one,” Emily threatened.

“Moi?”

“Yeah, violating medical leave and hacking government servers,” Emily suggested, playing tough.

Everyone let the scene play out, though they were all bursting with laughter. JJ looked away while Luke and Simmons swallowed it and stood tall. Tara was as ever, unflinching. Spencer’s face was confused, “How did you even get released from the Rehab Facility?!”

“Oh, sweet, pure, Reid. Mama has her ways,” Penelope sighed. “Besides, there are medical transport vehicles available on Uber and Lyft. I got a ride in no time. Now, whose driving, because Rossi is waiting on us with the kettle on.”

Spencer wished he had the unstoppable optimism of Penelope, but when he looked around the room at the faces of the BAU team he felt nearly hopeful. His decision to walk away from this group of unwavering loyal and dedicated people was not one of selfishness. He regretted it and was certain of it in equal measure. His choices had caused his friends almost insurmountable pain over the past few years, had cost Stephen Walker his life and Penelope her ability to walk. His decision to teach and volunteer at Penelope’s Rehabilitation Facility had been the first choice he was proud of in a very long time. However much an act of penance it was.

The food was phenomenal, as always and the conversation was kept light. Rossi had some great stories about Kai and trying to find a place to live in the most ridiculous real estate market in the country. Penelope was beaming with her freedom and friend time. Tara and Luke were bantering as always, apparently the last blind date he had set her up with was a nightmare.

Emily approached him as JJ and Matt ducked out to head back to their families. “You know, you could work part time, like Tara.”

“Emily, I would have to be reinstated and I don’t think I am ready to have my gun back on my hip, just yet.”

“So what you’re saying is maybe?” There was a devilish glint to her eye.

“What? No, stop putting words in my mouth.” He smirked, she had him on the ropes and he knew it.

‘We don’t always have a choice in what happens to us, but you know what sometimes we do. And right now, I’m just asking you to make the choice to stay.” Emily said back verbatim.

“Fight for us, fight for the team.” Spencer continued, his voice a whisper as he recalled those words pouring from his own heart.

“It’s what we do.” Emily finished. “I know you’re not ready. You won’t even let Penelope forgive you. But, don’t give up on us, just yet. We haven’t given up on you.”

Spencer sighed, his tears burning as she looked back at him with the years of cases and personal loss behind them. “Okay.”

@dontshootmespence @illegalcerebral @literallyprentissstwin @cherry-loves-fanfic @mentallydatingspencerreid

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