#I’m saying that the excuses/justifications

[cloudycera]

Guardian Shazam interactions I’ve decided make sense.

*HomeSchooled?*

Freddy: I’ll give you whatever book you want but I can’t teach you nothing.

Mary: No one was asking, Billy when you first said you were home schooled I was under the impression you meant it. You know like someone was teaching you.

Billy: I did mean it Mary, I just teach myself at home, that counts. I can read perfectly fine and I can do basic math and stuff.

Freddy: Then why do you want the textbooks?

Billy: It’s nice to know what kids are up to nowadays!! Always exciting to get my hand on actual schoolwork so I know I’m not that behind.

Freddy:……..Please just ask me to get you something inappropriate next time-OW!

Mary: Be quiet. I get it Billy, learning is still important even if you don’t go to school, I’ll bring you some of my homework and teach it to you if you want.

Billy: Thanks Mary :D

*Lovely Little Lady in the Justice League*

G.Shazam: I know it’s weird but I can fling half of you 50 feet in the air with one hand so please stop staring at me.

Superman: I apologise I’m just still confused on how you and Batman came to this agreement?

G.Arrow: Yeah what could’ve possessed him to string you into the league.

G.Shazam: Oh I wasn’t “stringed?”- em- “Strung along”? It’s not like that I wanted to join because it seemed like it’d be nice to get to know more heroes.

Batman: And I lost a good game of Poker in hell.

Flash: Excuse me?

Batman: Long story, Ms. Shazam helped me out and I when she asked if she could join I couldn’t say no…..apparently Lucifer is really scared of her.

G.Shazam: Oh you didn’t lose Mr. Batman, demons don’t play regular poker so they were definitely cheating and Mr.Lucifer never calls them out on their bad behaviour. I didn’t help you to get in the league promise, it’d be mean if I just left you with all that trouble.

Wonder Woman: Hahah! No need to be shy young one we can all see your honesty.

Superman: *whispering* Are you sure this is a good idea, she’s a kid?

Batman: She’s level headed, humble and works good in a team. With enough guidance who knows how far she’ll go, plus there’s nothing wrong with adding a youthful perspective.

Superman:…….”Youthful Perspective” Bruce….. You have like 9 kids how much youthful perspective do you need.

Batman: They’re not in the League.

Superman: That’s your only justification?!

[black-queen-rising]

The fundamental problem with House of The Dragon, not even as an adaptation, but as a show, and simply a story, is that none of the characters feel like people. They're cardboard cutout dialogue delivery machines, they do what the story requires of them at any given moment and then evaporate into thin air. Their actions aren't internally consistent to a person with a mind and opinions and emotions of their own, the explanation for why they do the things they do nine times out of ten boils down to "they had to hit X point on the skeleton chart of plots beat that needed to be fulfilled" with all the moments in between being "the writers wanted them to", people aren't always objectively consistent but they are INTERNALLY consistent, and it's why these characters don't feel like people, they're not and the writers aren't interested in making us BELIEVE they are, they're interested in seeing them do what they want when they want it while checking off just enough requirements to still have HBO release it. If there is ever a frustration, an incoherence, a simple why about the choices made and narrative created, nine times out of ten, this is going to be your answer. Not only is looking for something deeper or better going to drive you insane either from frustration or powerlessness (trust me, I’ve been there), the people in charge are relying on us to do so, it’s why this fandom was the perfect place to be so self indulgent and egotistical, we’ve been trained by the creator for twenty-odd years to believe there’s always a bigger scheme and grander plans. Not this time, not here. And when people recognize this is the answer, there’s no wild goose chase protecting the creators anymore, there’s just criticism, and the consequences of their own self indulgence and ego. Don’t drive yourself crazy looking for answers, drive them crazy by demanding explanations.

[cringefailwritherage]

[aliteralsemicolon]

Wait until you like me again - 18+

See part 1 | Part 2 of We can't be friends (wait for your love) | See part 3

The decision to resign puts a lot of weight on your shoulders. A takedown gone wrong makes it the least of anyone's concerns, especially Spencer’s. You’re not willing to let him back in; it feels too little, too late.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. Part 2 was highly requested and I’m sorry it’s taken so long to finish.

WARNING Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, drugs (GHB), Case details (very poorly thought out). Violence: canon typical - strangulation, drugging, guns/gunshots. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 10.3K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

The most annoying part about making a decision in haste is the clarity of the situation when the dust settles. It’d taken Hotch just over two minutes to message you after you’d sent your email. 

From: Boss Man 🕶 👔 My office, first thing tomorrow. 

You didn’t take into account that you’d have to explain your sudden resignation to your unit chief, or that you’d need to think of a good enough goodbye to lessen the hurt of abandoning your friends. These are people you consider your found family; you’re leaving behind years worth of bonds with no proper warning or closure, in a measly few weeks. Your reasoning had to be good enough to convince them that this was for the best. 

To convince you that this was for the best. 

You’d spent the whole night in tears, racking your brain for an excuse, because ‘the person you care most about in this world and unrequited love of your life telling you that he didn’t want to see your face was a pathetic reason for discarding your life’s work. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t think of adequate justification. Even as the sun rose and you made your way through your pre-work routine, nothing came to mind. 

“You can’t love me.”

Any time you tried to conjure up a defence your thoughts would wander back to Spencer. Too many words had been exchanged between you and your former best friend in the span of four months and not a single one of them properly explained why he was so butt-hurt. He loves you too much, but doesn’t want you to love him? That’s your understanding, at least. 

“Please don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.” 

Since you’d left his apartment the previous night, you’d been cycling through all the stages of grief in record time. Spencer once told you that people tend to remember more negative memories than positive. He was right. You couldn’t recall a lot of your happier memories with him. All you could think about was the two conversations where he’d hurt you in ways you never imagined he would. 

You’re not sure exactly what part of you snapped at that moment, all you knew was that you were done making him the centre of your universe. Spencer Reid played no part in your decisions moving forward. He was not the reason for your departure with the BAU, a lie you made sure to relay to Hotch during your meeting with him.

“I’m just surprised, that’s all. Where is this even coming from?” He inquired from across you, hands folded neatly against his desk.

“I just think it’s time for me to try new things, you know?” It was a pathetic excuse, but less pathetic than the actual reasoning. 

“I try not to interfere with the personal lives of the team, but this is just so…sudden. I have to wonder if this has to do with Spencer?”

“This has nothing to do with him.” You go out of your way to avoid saying his name, suspecting you might taste poison. 

Hotch’s brow raises, as if his brain has been alerted to key information, head marginally tilting to the side like it does when he catches a lie. He doesn’t say anything, eyes narrowing in on you in stoic fashion. You feel like a petulant child that’s about to receive a scolding from their father. 

“Hon–Honestly…Hotch, I just–”

Three rapid knocks cut you off, the door to the office swinging open without waiting for a reply. 

“Sir, Hello, I’m sorry to interrupt but it’s an emergency. That case we were consulting on for Anchorage PD?” Garcia bursts into the room, slightly discoloured and more panicked than normal. “Well, five more bodies were discovered. Two of them pre-date who we initially thought was the first victim.”

“Garcia, tell everybody to meet on the jet ASAP. We’ll debrief on the flight.” Hotch orders abruptly standing from his seat. “You and I can finish this meeting later. This case is now our top priority, wheels up.” 

Emily, Rossi and Derek were already in their seats when you boarded. You secured your go bag in one of the overhead compartments and temporarily took a seat next to Derek. 

“How bad do you think this one is gonna be?” Derek sighs, dreading the horrors that await your arrival. 

“We’re up to thirty six bodies and counting. Whoever this unsub is, they’ve been at it a while. So, bad.” You answer honestly. 

“Speaking of bad, is everything okay?”

“That was not even remotely smooth.” You scoff. 

“I’m just asking as a concerned friend.” He shoots his hands up in defence.

“What happened to the days where we at least tried to mind our business. You know, at least asked each other about our weekend plans before jumping into interrogation mode.” You roll your eyes and smirk. 

“Heyyy, woah– no one’s interrogating anyone.” Derek chuckles. “What are your plans for the weekend?”

It wasn’t long before everybody had made their way on the jet, Spencer being the last one. You didn’t notice his arrival, too engulfed in your conversation. He definitely noticed you though. The sound of your giggles caught his attention the second he was in ear shot. He didn’t like how warm he felt at the sight of your smiling face. What he disliked more was that he could instantly tell that it wasn’t a genuine smile. 

He quietly made his way to his self assigned seat on the couch, trying his hardest to focus on anything but you. Every laugh that Morgan coaxed out of you bothered him. Spencer’s agony only ended once the jet had successfully taken off. 

“Alright let’s get started.” Hotch declared and everybody moved to gather around. 

With all the details laid out by Garcia through the monitor, everybody began stating facts and suggestions. You wrapped up soon enough and retreated to an isolated seat in the back of the jet. It was an almost eight hour flight, seven of which you were planning to use to come up with a solid plan to announce your departure. Life always has to throw a wrench in your plans though, because the lack of sleep from the night before caught up to you and you dozed off almost immediately. Had you any energy left in your body, you might have been privy to the eyes that were on you. 

“She didn’t say anything as to what the meeting was about?” JJ hushedly pries from her raven haired co worker in the cramped kitchenette.  

“No, but Garcia said that ‘the air in his office was really tense’.” Emily relays, her fingers mimicking quotation marks. “Did Hotch say anything?”

“No. He just gave me his usual dry look and told me to focus on the case.” JJ rolls her eyes at the thought and leans back against the counter. 

Despite being the FBI’s most decorated task force, the agents of the BAU weren’t strangers to workplace gossip. You’d just entered the bullpen this morning when Hotch frantically summoned you to his office, not even giving you time to set your things down at your desk. Witnessing the events sparked a guessing game sparked amongst the team. 

“Is it something we should know about?” Sitting across from Hotch, even Rossi succumbed to his curiosity. 

“Dave you’re not normally one to pry.” Hotch smirks, keeping his eyes on the case-file laid out in front of him. 

“No I’m not. But with the events of the past few months...” Rossi sips his coffee, staring at his younger superior expectantly. “...there’s been some talk Aaron.”

“Talk?” Hotch meets Rossi’s eyes.

“Mhm.” Rossi nods. “Apparently you’re transferring one of our two youngest members because they haven’t been able to put their differences aside.”

“I’m not transferring anyone. Where did this come from?” The alarm in his tone makes Rossi snicker.

“Office drama. You know how it is. And while you may not be transferring anybody,” he sets his mug down and looks towards where you’re sound asleep. “I’m guessing somebody is leaving. Hence this morning's meeting.”

“We’re not supposed to profile each other, you know.” Hotch sighs. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep this contained. I haven’t had a chance to properly discuss this with her yet and I think she’d prefer to break the news herself.” 

As you had predicted the case was by no means an easy one. On the first day everybody was split into groups to follow up with the M.E, victims’ families and examine the crime scenes. All the evidence and information gathered wasn’t enough to narrow the profile any more than the generic: male, mid thirties to early forties, hates women. You were now three days in with no viable leads. 

You were especially frustrated because you felt that you weren’t working as well as you could. The stress of your announcement was taking its toll, you were unable to properly converse with your team out of guilt. Hotch sent everyone back to their hotel rooms with the idea that you would start fresh tomorrow. Normally you would room with Spencer, but lately JJ and Emily have been taking turns rooming with both of you. This time you were with Emily.

“I think this may be the first night we’ve gotten to turn in early.” Emily yawns as she dramatically stretches her limbs.

“I’m just glad we got to turn in at all, for a while there it looked like we may have to pull another all nighter.” You force a giggle, exasperated.  

“You okay?” She doesn’t miss a beat, taking the opportunity to ask about your uneasiness. 

“Yeah, fine.” You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“You’re going to snap at some point, you know?” She examines your closed off posture, trying to figure out a way to get you to open up. “Something’s clearly wrong. Talk to me.”

“We’re all on edge right now. It’s this case.” You hope that you’re being convincing enough. 

“It's more than that. You’ve been distant from everybody.” Emily briefly thought back to the Ian Doyle debacle, recognising all the signs of somebody preparing to run away at any given moment. 

“I’m aware that I’m not working to my full potential–”

“That’s not what I mean and you know that.” She steps closer to you. “I can’t force you to tell me whatever’s actually on your mind, but I would really appreciate it if you would. I hate seeing you so…detached. Not just from us, but from yourself.”

It’s the empathy in her voice instead of the usual sympathy that finally cracks you. Tears pool your eyes and you sink to the floor. Emily sits down next to you without a word. She tries to pull you in for a hug but you push away. 

“Please don’t.” You sob. “I’m sorry.”

She squeezes your knee to relay that she understands and retracts her hand. Your discomfort with physical touch was another thing you had in common with Spencer. It was just a personal preference for you, unlike his germophobia. He was the only person you were actually comfortable with in terms of touch, but you couldn’t fault others for not respecting that boundary when you’d never verbalised it. 

“I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to tell you guys, but I don’t think there’s any way this gets easier.” You recompose yourself after a moment. “I’m, um, leaving.”

You expect her to get upset with you, but find her unfazed. 

“You don’t look surprised.” 

“Well it’s not entirely surprising. I mean given everything that’s happened.” 

“So you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” She leans back with her mouth slightly open. 

“Because I feel like I’m abandoning you guys.” You heavily exhale. 

“You’re not abandoning us. You’re doing what you feel is right for you. I mean, am I happy about it? Definitely not. But I know better than anyone why you feel like you need to do this. And it’s not a decision you have to justify to anybody.” Emily reassures you. 

“How do I tell everybody else?” You push for more advice.

“However you feel most comfortable doing it. It doesn’t have to be some big announcement. You can casually break it to them whenever you get the opportunity. They’ll understand.” 

“Thank you, Em.” You genuinely smile this time, eternally grateful that she’s managed to take some pressure off your shoulders.

“Now while you’re in a mood to share…if you wanna talk about something else–” She attempts one last time to get you to talk about Spencer, sensing that the mood lightened a bit. 

“Nice try.” You laugh as you rise to your feet, offering your arms out to her to help her stand.

The following two days were a lot easier on you, mentally. You took Emily’s advice and disclosed your news individually to each team member, each of them more understanding than you’d anticipated. You were surprised to learn that Rossi was already aware, assuming that it came with being a profiler for as long as he had. Derek and JJ did try to talk you out of it initially, but accepted your decision in the end. You still had to talk about this with Garcia, but felt a lot more at ease with mostly everybody knowing.

Except Spencer.

That thought lingered in the back of your mind. You still love him, it’s not something you can just turn off. You shake it off and divert your full attention to the case. Four more bodies had been discovered and with them, a new pattern to the killings. The unsub was devolving. You and Spencer were the only ones at the precinct when the last murder was called in. Meaning you were stuck working on the geographical profile with him while the others were out chasing new leads. 

Realistically, only one of you was needed to build the profile and decided you were going to let him do it. You quietly sat in the furthest seat possible, trying to make yourself invisible and hoping that this would keep him busy enough to not talk to you. The whole week, you hadn’t uttered a single word to him unless it was absolutely necessary for the case. It was as if he didn’t exist, even if he was standing right infront of you. Spencer, on the other hand, spent the whole week prodding you for any reaction he could get. Anytime you made suggestions and he happened to be in the area, he tried to one up you.

At times it felt like he was purposely seeking you out, despite his brutal proclamation five days ago. Every attempt to rile you up failed. The most acknowledgement he got from you was a few scoffs and glares. He hadn’t even realised he was doing it, until Derek asked him point blank what his problem was. He didn’t have an answer, but now that he was aware of it he tried to go out of his way to avoid it. 

That didn’t last more than a few hours. The fact that he had to consciously avoid talking to you pissed him off, especially because he couldn’t stop. You pretending like he didn’t exist pissed him off even more. The one time he took his eyes off the board in front of him they landed on you. You were busy scribbling words in a file, trying to get a head start on your paperwork. 

“Do you plan to help at all?” He sneers, noticing that you looked a lot more relaxed than you did at the start of the case. 

You snap your head towards the board behind him. A rough venn diagram was drawn on a map of the city, small tacked notes labelling prominent buildings in the area. 

“How am I meant to help?” You question, darting your eyes between him and the board out of confusion.

“You’re asking me how to do your job?” He taunts, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.

You dramatically groan, throwing your head back. 

It’s hard to believe that he’s a man of logic in moments like these. There have been far too many in the last few months. You bounce off your seat and head over to the board. Spencer stays glued in his spot and your body accidentally brushes against his as you try to get past. He watches you take off some notes and add on new ones but doesn’t register what you’re doing at first. He’s too intoxicated by your scent. His hand runs through his hair as he steps back in an effort to regain his composure. His teeth grit and his jaw tenses momentarily, he hates that you have the ability to do this to him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” The pitch of his voice raises and his ears are burning.

“What do you mean?” You roll your eyes, shrugging your arms, sarcasm laced in your words. 

“Don’t try to act all dumb!” He berates, shaking his head. 

“Don’t try to act all smart.” Your eyes roll again. Spencer was slowly starting to wear down your apathy. 

“I am smart.” He scoffs. Your blood boils, this trump card is becoming too repetitive.

“Savour that, it’s the one good thing you’ve got going for you!” You finally snap. 

“You’re UNBELIEVABLE! The first time you bother to answer me all week and it’s just to argue?” He’s trying his best to refrain from yelling.

“Oh! You’ve been trying to start an argument all week and now that I’m giving in you can’t take it?! Actually, why have you been trying so hard, Doctor? I was under the impression that you can’t even stand to look at my face!”

He dryly swallows, unable to respond immediately. The reminder of his words makes him internally cringe. He never meant to say them. It was the most efficient way he could think of at that time to hurt you. Spencer hadn’t anticipated the sheer amount of will power it would take to stay away from you. You seeking him out made it infinitely harder. His fake disdain was a defence mechanism, he was hiding behind hatred to get the job done. 

“YOU–”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Hotch loudly cuts him off. 

Neither you nor Spencer noticed the teams return during your squabble. You’re slightly embarrassed, wondering how much they’ve witnessed. Spencer turns away from you and looks to the blank wall on the other side of the room. You look to the floor and bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Care to explain what’s going on?” He grills and you feel like a petulant child receiving a lecture from your father. 

“She wasn’t doing her job!” Spencer complains. “And when I brought it up she messed up my profile!”

“God you’re insufferable! It’s called ‘narrowing the profile’, Spencer. Maybe if you did it properly, I wouldn’t have to.” You retort. 

“Hey!” Hotch scolds.

It falls silent for a second, awkward glances finding their way around the room. Rossi breaks it first. 

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two were bickering toddlers instead of FBI agents.”

You make eye contact with Morgan trying to hold in a laugh and it makes you snort. 

“We will discuss this later. Let’s focus on the updates we’ve gathered.” Hotch dismisses due to more pressing matters at hand. 

“After talking to friends of the latest victims, I can confirm that they were all last seen in the same club.” JJ pipes up first.

“And the dumpsites are all less than twenty minutes away from there. He’s definitely not holding them anymore.” Morgan adds.

“That has to be where he’s choosing his victims. Did the medical examiner find anything new?” Hotch asks.

“Traces of GHB.” Emily replies. “We don’t know how he’s administering it into their systems, but my guess would be through the drinks.”

“Gamma-hydroxybutyrate, mostly known as GHB, is a party drug that produces feelings of euphoria, confidence, relaxation and sociability. Side effects of GHB can include drowsiness, vomiting, mood swings, dependence, as well as more serious symptoms of unconsciousness. When mixed with alcohol the risk of overdose increases as it can cause respiratory collapse leading to coma or in extreme cases death.” Spencer’s about to continue but quickly recognises that it’s a tangent he needs to cut short. 

“Wait JJ what club were the victims last seen in?” You inquire, walking closer to the map.

When she relays the name it clicks. 

“That’s smack in the middle of the comfort zone.” You point at a small red note labelling the building. 

“So how do we catch this guy? I mean the club would be packed and we don’t know what this guy looks like. The profile tells us that he would blend in, nothing would stand out about him.” Morgan subtly suggests a string operation.

“Except for when he’s alone with the object of his rage. Which in our case would be the women he’s using as surrogates. He'd be possessive, become clingy, hold on too tight and once those advances are rejected he’d fly into blind rage.” Spencer exclaims without realising the weight of his input. 

“Yeah…but he has a very specific type.” Rossi hesitates. 

A fact that everybody had been avoiding the case because of how close it hit to home. 

You’re his exact type.

“No.” Hotch shuts down.

“Hotch, think about it. I mean this guy is not slowing down. A sting might be our best bet to stop him before he kills again.” JJ shares Rossi’s hesitation.

“It’s too risky!” Spencer blurts, making it clear he’s against the idea. 

Everyone begins to chime in with their input, but you stay silent and think it over. None of them wanted to put you in this position, but you’d seen the bodies and what he’d done to those women. What he’ll continue to do to other women if he isn’t stopped. It was a no brainer on your end. 

“I’ll do it!” You announce amidst the chatter.

It comes to an immediate halt, all eyes shifting on you.

“What?” Spencer scoffs.

You can tell that he’s genuinely surprised by the small hitch in his voice. Emily sceptically calls your name, posing it as a question. 

“I’ll do it.” You reiterate, taking care to seem as confident as possible.

“Absolutely not! The odds of this going wrong are way too high!” Spencer howls with a little too much passion. 

“Reid’s right. The unsub is way too unpredictable.” Hotch debates.

“JJ has a point, think about it!” You argue. “We know for a fact that he’s going to strike tonight. Sending me undercover as bait is better than staking out the place and waiting for him to target a civilian!” 

“Okay so let’s send somebody else!” Spencer contests, his tone prayerful. 

For a split second, you see your best friend again. He’s showing more regard for you now than he has in months and it makes your heart sink knowing it won’t be forever. Still, you try to reason with him while he’s there.

“There’s no time! I fit his type. This is our best option.”

“No, this is stupid and dangerous. You’re not going in there!” He’s gone again. 

“That’s not your call to make!” You snap. 

“Hotch no!” Spencer tries again.

“Kid, relax! This isn’t her first undercover mission.” Morgan attempts to calm Reid. “Plus we’ll all be there in case anything goes wrong.”

“Statistically–”

“For God’s sake forget the fucking statistics! People’s lives are at stake!” You loudly end his tangent before it can begin. 

“Alright, everybody calm down!” Hotch speaks up, making it a point to stare down Spencer. 

He’d made his decision and Spencer can only stare back in disbelief, too breathless to argue. 

‘Like Morgan said, we’ll be there watching over you, along with some local law enforcement. You won’t be wired, but we’ll have a fail safe just in case you need backup earlier than expected. We don’t have a lot of time. Let’s get to work.” The unit chief asserts. 

Before anyone can make any further moves, Spencer storms out of the room. JJ runs after him, assuring Hotch that she’ll take care of it. The rest of you break off to your assigned tasks, preparing for the operation that night. 

“Spence! Slow down!” She yells, chasing him all the way outside the precinct. 

He’s breathing too fast, practically on the edge of hyperventilating. He pushes his hair back with both of his hands, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. 

“Spence what the hell is going on with you?” JJ pants, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“Me?!” Spencer yanks himself away from her. “What the hell is going on with all of you?! You’re all insane for allowing her to do this!”

“She’s a grown woman and a trained agent! This is her decision. She knows what she’s getting herself into.” JJ reminds him. 

“Well it’s not a very smart decision! She shouldn’t be making decisions this…this reckless!” He shrieks. 

“Okay you need to calm down!” JJ sternly states. 

“Jennifer, do not tell me to calm down! She’s about to make herself a direct target for a psychopathic sadist and you’re all just letting it happen!”

“So what? Should we let some innocent woman become his next target?” 

“No! I’m not saying we should– just– why does it have to be her?!” The emphasis on his last word gives him away, JJ picks up on it instantly. 

“That’s what this is about? C’mon you know better than this.” She relaxes her shoulders. “Spencer, we all care about her. We all want her to be safe. And she will be as long as we separate out feelings from–”

“Feelings? This has nothing to do with how I feel–”

“Okay stop! Stop! God!” JJ huffs with pauses between her words. “I am so sick of this! This is clearly about your feelings. The past four months have all been about–”

She smacks her hands against her face as she takes a deep breath, a display of frustration. 

“Listen to me.” She commands, exhausted from the back and forth. “It’s clear that you two care deeply for each other, whether you’re willing to admit it or not. Neither of you will talk about whatever it is that’s caused this rift– fine! But don’t you think it’s time to bury the hatchet now that she’s leaving?”

Spencer freezes. 

“...Leaving?” He repeats, taken off guard. 

JJ takes a moment to read his expression. 

“She didn’t tell you?” JJ mutters, still scanning his face. 

“What– what are you…” He can’t find the words, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tries to process her words.

“She’s resigning, Spencer. She’s leaving the FBI.” JJ can’t hide how she’s surprised that you haven’t shared this with him. 

“No, that's not possible. She loves this job. Why would she leave?” Denial is his first response.

Spencer thinks over your possible motivations and can only land on the obvious. You’d only leave if you grew to hate the job. 

Did he do this? Did he make you hate it?

“We were all surprised when she first told us, I mean, it came out of nowhere.”

“We?” He rubs his temple, anticipating a possible migraine from the bomb that just dropped on him. “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you guys known?” He balefully sighs, trying his hardest to not misplace his anger. 

“It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.” 

He had no one to be angry at, but himself.

“A day? Maybe two? She told us individually. Honestly with this case I haven’t had time to wrap my head around it.” JJ honestly reveals. 

So not long. Maybe you were still making your way around to telling him? You wouldn’t just leave without so much as telling him, would you?

A few months ago, Spencer would’ve confidently answered no. Today he was sure that you would. He so badly hoped that he was wrong. 

“Spence, look, we can talk about this later. But right now, you need to make sure you’re able to stay objective. Can you do that?”

He nods relentlessly, tucking his hair behind his ears. A habit he adapted early in life. It was an indicator of the gears turning in his head. JJ gives him a few more minutes outside before guiding him back in to help with preparations. Spencer absentmindedly performed his tasks, but all he could think about was you. 

You’re leaving and he’s the only person you hadn’t disclosed this information to. Abandonment was a feeling he was all too used to, but he never imagined that you’d abandon him. He knows that he can only blame himself, but he still can’t help the irritation that’s creeping in his veins. 

Even as he straps up his hidden bullet proof vest hours later, he can’t push the sentiment away. You were setting yourself up as bait for one of the most dangerous types of serial killers. On top of purposely putting yourself in direct line danger, you were leaving without telling him. He would’ve showed up to work one day and you’d be gone.

Right now he stands just a few feet away from you and you don’t look toward him once. No one would be able to guess that you’re undercover. It’s amazing how you’ve managed to transform yourself from supervisory special agent to a regular socialite and party girl in a couple of hours.

If he could overcome the hurt he feels at the moment, he might see how breathtaking you look. Then again, you always appear breathtaking to him. Before he knows it, he’s walked right up to you. You don’t feel his presence looming behind you until you bump into him when you turn around. 

“Shit Spencer!” You jump, mostly because of the nerves from the upcoming night. 

He’s about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Don’t start! I’m not in the mood.” You brush him off and disappear out of sight.

It was like that for much of the preparations. He’d muster the courage to try and talk to you, and you’d walk away. Much like how Spencer would avoid you when your friendship first fell apart. 

“Everybody in position?” Hotch inquires through his ear piece. 

“Affirmative.” Morgan gives the greenlight for your entry into the club. 

You made your way to the bar, making it a point to sit alone. You didn’t have to wait long. Archie Carter, 36, cheated on by his ex fiance before their wedding. She ran away with another man because Archie failed to keep his sadistic traits hidden and it scared her off. Torturing and murdering women who looked like her was his way of giving her a real reason to be scared. 

This was all information Garcia found after it was nearly too late. He’d managed to get you on the dance floor, subtly injecting you with the GHB. You didn’t even feel him do it. To everybody else it just seemed like you were playing your part really well on the dance floor, when in reality you were struggling to stand up. You couldn’t give out any signals and he was able to slip you away into the back alley under the noses of five FBI agents. 

It was Spencer who’d found you fighting for your life against Archie’s grip around your throat. Spencer, who put the bullet in Archie’s head after being unable to talk him down. Spencer who kneeled above you, begging you to come back as he began CPR. If he’d found you any later you might’ve been gone for good. 

Pissed was an understatement.

At the piece of shit that almost ripped you away from the world. At Hotch and the team for not listening. At himself for being right. Not you though, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t pissed at you. He was terrified. Both for you and for almost losing you. 

You had to stay a few extra days in Anchorage, bound to your hospital room. The team refused to fly back without you, each of them taking turns to keep you company. They all felt an immense amount of guilt but you reassured them that it wasn’t their fault. Your tongue grew tired of reminding them that this was a part of the job. Rossi joked that it was a good thing you were leaving it all behind in that case and it stung more than you were willing to admit. 

In your brush with death you came to the revelation that you didn’t want to leave, but hearing Spencer’s voice lull you back to him confirmed that you needed to. You couldn’t bring yourself to hear him talk everyday and not be the person he was talking to. It was why you had basically barred him from visiting you during your recovery there. Seeing his face was more than you could handle at the time. Not seeing yours weighed on him, because he needed to see if you were okay.

Physically, he knew you’d be fine once the doctors confirmed it. Mentally, he knew all too well of the repercussions that came with almost dying directly by the hands of an unsub. You’d been discharged and cleared fifty eight hours after you were admitted, and the team was ready to fly back a few hours later. All the signs of being less than okay were there. He recognised them as soon as he saw you board the jet. 

Besides the obvious bruises collaring your neck, there was some minor swelling that lingered. That wasn’t his biggest concern. It was the smile plastered on you when you put on your ‘I’m okay’ act for the others. Your eyes, like always, gave you away. You were already trying to sweep everything under the rug. Less than a few minutes after take off you isolated yourself in the back. You’d been doing that a lot in your recent cases. 

It irked him how everybody just let you. He decided right then that he wasn’t going to. He didn’t care how much you hate him, he was going to ensure that you came out of this truly okay. You were mindlessly staring out the window, counting the clouds, listening to the music playing through your headphones. You tried to ignore the feeling of being watched. You’d felt like that since you came to, in the alley. 

It took you a second to understand that you were actually being watched, turning to find Spencer in the previously empty seat across from you. 

“You’ve gotta stop sneaking up on me.” You snark, ripping off your headphones, still recovering from the small jump scare.

“Sorry.” He chuckles out of habit.

You unintentionally smile at the sound and find yourself staring in his eyes. 

“Are–” He falters as he thinks the question over in his head. “Is there anything I can get you?”

You’re taken aback, not expecting those words. You had a script prepared to waive off questions about your well being. He knows you better than that, throwing you off course as usual.

“What do you want?” You grumble, accepting that you couldn’t get past him.

“I want to know if there’s anything I can get you.” He repeats in a low tone. 

There he is again. The Spencer you know and love. Your heart threatens to leap.

“If this is to clear some guilty conscience, don’t bother.” You verbally guard yourself. “I’m fine.”

It would be a lie if he said his reasoning was completely selfless. He was hardly able to keep away from you without feeling like he was drowning, but it was nothing compared to how he felt when he thought he may have lost you forever. The feeling didn’t last very long, he was able to revive you within a few seconds, but never feeling like that again would be too soon. 

Spencer believed in two things; statistics and facts. One fact he refused to ignore any longer is that he couldn’t live without you. He quietly opened that satchel that still clung across his torso, fishing out some pain killers and an unopened water bottle. 

“I know you probably forgot to take yours out of your bag.” He ignores your previous comment and slides the items across the table to you. 

Your gaze lingers on the items in front of you, but your hands stay folded in your lap as you piece everything together. 

“You know.” You whisper. 

“Were you going to tell me?” He gulps after a beat of silence. 

“Does it matter?” You're quick to respond.

“I wanna hear it from you.” He’s just as fast. 

You look up from the leaf of pills, he’s already surveilling you. It’s a short lived staring contest because your focus shifts behind him to Hotch, who’s observing this encounter from the kitchenette on the other end. Spencer continues waiting on you for a response but you stand up, ready to walk away. It dawns on you when you see your supervisor that technically you hadn’t officially resigned yet. The paperwork never got started because this case took priority and that was a detail you needed to sort out right away.

“Don’t go.” Spencer pleads when you take your first step.

Was it a request to sit back down or to stay with the BAU? You didn’t bother to clarify, he had no right to ask for either. 

You let out a deep, exasperated sigh as you lie curled up in your warm sheet, scowling at the floor beneath you. It seemed that the universe (your friends) had it out to delay your departure as much as possible. It’s been four days since your return from Anchorage and you’ve been stuck in your apartment since Hotch dropped you off here. He’s ordered mandatory time off for your recovery, meaning the paperwork has to wait. 

You could be using this time in a more productive manner. You could be searching for a new job. And a new place to live. You should be trying to figure out where this new place would be. You never actually thought that far ahead. In your haste to run away, you forgot to plan your next steps. You’ve convinced yourself that you can’t do any of it until the forms are filled out. 

The ‘universe’ isn’t the only thing delaying you. 

If you really wanted to, you could have everything emailed to you. You can have it done online, but there are two major problems. The first is pretty straight forward; you’re not ready to leave. You know that this is the best course of action for everybody, but your brain and your heart are at an impasse. You’ve dedicated years to this job because you love this job. Unfortunately, you love Spencer more, which means that staying is going to drive you to hate your job. 

The other reason is slightly more nuanced and you don’t want to think about it, opting to let your impasse be the reason for your lack of motivation to do anything other than bed rotting. It’s not as bad as it seems, it’s more self care than anything. Your body’s telling you it needs to rest and you’re simply obliging. Plus, it couldn’t be that serious if you still had bursts when you had to keep up appearances. You have to be okay if you’re able to force yourself to open the front door for your coworkers when they come to check on you. You really weren’t that miserable if you managed to smile and laugh for their short visits. 

And it’s not like you’re truly rotting. You showered quite often, you actually just had your second one today. You were definitely okay if you could manage to keep up with hygiene. It’s not excessive, you need to scrub the purple away. You know that’s not how it works, but you can’t stand to look at the parts of your neck where his hands were wrapped around. If you close your eyes for long enough you can still feel him squeezing until–

You’re okay.

No, you’re irritated. The incessant knocking on your front door won’t stop no matter how much you ignore it. You were relieved when evening came. It meant that normal visiting hours were over and you could rest today. If it wasn’t any of your usual visitors then it had to be stranger. The thought made you uneasy, you hesitated to answer it at all. 

You can’t live in fear all the time. 

The door eventually opens and Spencer sees you for the first time in days. He actually tried to check on you earlier, but Penelope insisted everybody stick to her roster so you don’t get overwhelmed. The circles under your eyes were almost as dark as his, you hadn’t been getting much sleep. The swelling around your throat was almost all gone, but the bruising wasn’t healing like he expected it to. 

“Spencer…what are you doing here?” Your voice is hoarse. 

“I brought take out.” He gently dangles a bag of food in front of him, his voice high, but quiet. 

You can practically smell the contents of the bag, nostalgia hitting you like a ton of bricks. It was your favourite thing to order on the days he’d come over for movie nights. Before Spencer showed you a side of him you didn’t know existed. It felt like a taunt, like he was twisting the metaphorical knife he plunged in your heart. It made you sick.

“I already ate.” You lie, mustering a dull smile on your face.

Spencer swallows and bites the inside of his cheek, not taking his eyes off you. Trying to think of the best way to call you out without causing you to shun him. 

“We can do something else until you’re hungry again.” He gives a tight lipped smile and raises his furrowed brows, like he’s pleading for you to accept his offer.

“I don’t think I’ll be hungry anytime soon.” You awkwardly laugh– well it’s close to a laugh if not for your strained vocal chords. 

“Can I come in anyway? We can put on a movie.” He’s using the voice he used to when trying to comfort you or convince you of something. Soft, low, steady. It’s a stark contrast to the voice you’ve been hearing for the last ten days. 

Please don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.

Tears threaten the composure you’re working so hard to maintain.

“Why are you really here?” You sigh, unable to stick with the pleasantries. 

“I told you.” He emphasises the bag of food in his hands again. “Take out. Maybe a movie–”

“Cut the shit.” You assert, harshly. “You can tell Penelope that you came to see me so she gets off your back, but please stop pretending like you care.”

“That’s…is that why you think I’m here?” His shoulders drop.

“Isn’t it?” You bite, your door now wide open as you lean against it for support. Your legs are aching to curl into your chest again. 

“No.” His reply is short and clear, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “I’m here because I want to be here.”

“Why? There’s nothing in it for you.” You scoff, blinking from confusion. “Unless…is this some sick game? Seeing me like this– knowing that I’m– are you trying to gloat?”

“Gloat?” He repeats in almost a whisper, the hurt in his voice evident.

“Relish, rejoice, rub it in, I don’t know. You’re the walking thesaurus.”

He can tell from your lax posture that you're amused. Your back is against your door, hands behind your back and you’re leaning forward a bit as you stare at the ground. Not caring that your words cut deep.

Is this how low you think he is?

“Why would I be enjoying this?” His hopeful smile drops entirely as he tries to understand you. 

“Call it epicaricacy.” You shrug. 

“Epicaricacy?” He mumbles in a whispered tone, like he’s trying to process what you said.

Deriving pleasure from the misfortune of others.

Your eyes roll from how slow he’s acting and you have to hold yourself back from repeating the definition out loud.

“Do you honestly think I enjoy seeing you like this?” The change in pitch stings a bit. 

“No, I don’t think you like seeing me at all.” You half smirk up at him, sadness evident in your eyes. “Which brings us back to…why are you here Doc?”

“That’s not true.” He cringes, ignoring the second part.

“Not true?” You wiggle your brows sarcastically. 

“Not true.” He reaffirms, sighing deeply. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” 

“You’re sorry.” You scoff again, shaking your head.

“I know that I’ve been unreasonable–”

“Unreasonable?” The tip of your tongue rolls against the back of your teeth, bewildered at his sheer audacity. 

“A dick! I’ve been a dick.” He corrects himself, desperate to have you hear him out. 

You tighten your jaw, inhaling lightly through your nose and your brows are raised as high as they can go. 

“I was hurt. Okay? I wash lashing out, but, I–” He takes a deep breath to stop himself, wanting to get to the point. “I know that I’ve been acting otherwise but, I care about you. And when I found you back there…I just…I know what you’re going through, even if you won’t admit it. I don’t want you to go through it alone.”

Your expression softens as he speaks. Of course he knows. He knows you better than anyone. For a moment you consider allowing yourself to break down in his arms, like you would have once. It’s jarring, Spencer reverting to his former self after he saved your life. The comfort swiftly bubbles into anger. All your attempts for reconciliation were met with so much hostility before. It took you almost dying for him to care. It feels too little too late. The only thing you can think of as he stands next to you is all the ways he can further hurt you if you let him. You push off your door and stand straight, giggling bitterly. 

“Spencer, go home.” You say with the same bitterness. 

“Please–”

“Go home! I don’t want your pity!” You yell. It feels alleviating. “Do you honestly think that  anything changes just because you saved my life? Do you think it erases everything that’s happened in the past few months? Because it doesn’t! Things can’t go back to how they were simply because you feel bad that I almost died. It’s not a flip you can switch. You don’t just get to start caring!” 

You're heaving and he can only stare at the ground. He knows you’re right, except for the one crucial error in your speech. 

“I never stopped caring.” He mumbles.

This fucking idiot.

Enraged, sad, frustrated, confused; all emotions you’ve been suppressing that are now fighting to show at the same time. You take a step closer to him and he meets your eyes again. You can see that he’s holding back tears, same as you. It fuels you in a twisted way. You have an opportunity to hurt him the way he hurt you and you don’t let it go to waste.

“Don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work to see your face at work, I don’t want to see it in my personal time too.” 

You can’t stay to see the effects of his words thrown back at his face, your heart’s threatening to burst from how fast it’s racing. His jaw locks from how tense he is. He knows exactly why you said it, but it’s still hard to hear. You turn around and rush into your apartment, shutting the door on his face, leaving him standing there. You don’t make it too far inside, collapsing on the wooden floor with a choked sob. 

That didn’t make you feel as good as you thought it would. You hoped that maybe if you could make him feel at least a fraction of you’re feeling, you’d hurt less. It was more than just getting back at him for everything he’s done. You were unknowingly trying to punish him for what Archie Carter did too. It didn’t make you hurt any less, but at least you felt less alone in your hurt. 

He didn’t come back for the rest of your time off. Everybody continued to follow the roster, showing up on their days and bringing you ‘get well soon’ goodies. Penelope even invited herself over for a night's stay once. You didn’t have the heart to say no, but you found yourself counting the hours until you’d be alone again, free to wallow. The only respite you got for the next week was on Spencer’s days. You could expect to be left mostly alone, only a bag of take out accompanied by an eerily fitting quote sitting outside your door. 

You hate to admit that those were your favourite days. You had a chance to breathe and he somehow knew exactly what you needed to hear. You gave the food away in protest and the quote would go straight in the bin (once you read it). One final psych evaluation later you were cleared to come back. Not that you needed one since you didn’t plan to stay for long. It was really just a formality. By the time you returned only a few faded bruises remained, easy enough to cover with concealer. 

“You’re back! Ooh, it’s so good to see you!” Garcia was the first with a warm greeting and a tight hug. You reciprocated to the best of your ability. 

“Good to have you back, Pretty Girl.” Derek’s second, walking you through the bullpen as you make your way to Hotch’s office.

“Enjoy it while you can.” You giggle in reply. “Is Hotch in yet?”

“I see someone can’t wait to leave us.” Emily jokes, feigning a hurt look. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, he’s expecting you.” JJ laughs, slapping Emily’s arm playfully. 

“Thanks JJ!” You smile and they all watch you disappear behind the door. 

“So it’s official? She’s really leaving?” JJ questions through a half-hearted smile. 

“I asked Rossi and he said that Hotch is gonna ask her to stay until we find a replacement.” Emily replies, still eyeing the door. 

“How did you get Rossi to admit that?” JJ turns to the raven head, questioningly, and Emily smiles coyly giving no response. 

“Am I the only one who thinks this whole thing would end once they make up? I mean come on, we all know she’s leaving because of him, right?” Morgan looks at Spencer, who’s nose deep in a file at his desk. 

“Yeah, but we can’t help if they refuse to talk to us about it.” Emily sighs, hanging her head back. 

The three dive deeper into their discussion and you’re none the wiser from inside the cream-coloured walls of Hotch’s office. As per protocol, he’s just finished informing you of what’s next and you’re kind enough to accept his request to stay until they find a replacement. You definitely said yes because you want to make the team’s transition easier, not for any self indulgent reasons such as you not being ready to leave. 

“Just return this to me once you’ve filled it out.” He instructs as he hands you a file containing your resignation forms. 

“Thanks Hotch.” You smile, grabbing the file. 

You begin heading towards the door when he stops you by your name. 

“I understand that you’re set on this decision, but I am sad to see you go.” It’s insane how many emotions this man can get across while maintaining a blank expression. “However, if you change your mind at any point, let me know.” 

“Thanks Hotch.” You playfully scoff, appreciating that even he has to try at least once. 

If one more person tries though, you might scream. It wasn’t easy, pretending that you weren’t crumbling inside. The extra pressure doesn’t make it any easier. You leave his office, closing the door behind you and approach your desk. The resignation forms are put aside for later as you still have to finish your case report from Anchorage. Part of you wanted to put it off until the last minute, the other part wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible. 

“Coffee?” Penelope chirps, holding out a mug filled with the hot beverage. 

“Thanks Pen.” You smile up at her, taking it out of her hands. 

“No problem.” She smirks mischievously and trots off. 

A strange lady, but your strange lady.

Upon your first sip you almost choke it out. It was perfect. Exactly to your liking. Which would be a good thing, except only one person knows exactly how you like it. Back when you first joined, you learned how popular coffee was with all the employees. You felt out of place because you weren’t a massive fan of the drink and you avoided too much sugar because it made you feel sick. You soon discovered that you liked it a lot more with honey instead. It was a weird preference, but it worked for you, making it sweet without overpowering your senses like sugar did. 

You never declined a cup when offered by your colleagues, not wanting to dishearten them. It was Spencer who caught you sneaking honey into your cup when you thought no one was paying attention. He never mentioned anything to you, but the next time he returned with a cup to offer, you couldn’t help but the smile that adorned your face for the rest of the day. It was why you dedicated yourself to morning breakfast runs for him, memorising his coffee order as a silent thank you. Neither of you ever talked about it. 

You spin your seat around to find Spencer engaged in conversation with Rossi. You consider walking past him and dumping the beverage in the sink to make a point, but it was a welcome energiser for the dreadful task at hand. Plus you aren’t wasteful. You spin back around and decide to accept it just this once. 

When he’s sure you’re no longer looking he sets his sights back on you. A small smile forms across his lips when he sees you drink the coffee. He honestly expected you to throw it away. He feared that if he was the one to deliver the mug, you’d throw it on him. It was why he convinced Garcia to do it, bribing her by promising to buy a round of drinks on the next night out. 

“Kid, are you even listening?” Rossi scolds in an incredulous way. 

As the hours pass, your frustration grows. You couldn’t get yourself to write the details of the case. Your mind refused to think about it. You had hoped that taking breaks would make it easier, but everytime you returned to the page your head went blank.

“Need some help?” Spencer asks, spawning next to you.

“Christ, Reid!” You blurt, startled. “I thought I told you to stop doing that.” 

“Sorry.” He chuckles as if on cue. 

You glare at him expectantly. He doesn’t say anything, glancing between you and the unfinished case file, waiting for an answer. 

“No thanks.” You keep it short, hoping he takes the hint. 

“Let me know if you do.” He doesn’t. 

“You wouldn’t even be the last person I’d ask if I did.” You snark. 

“But you would eventually?” He stays calm, almost playful. 

Smart ass. 

You choose to ignore him, be the bigger person and all that. Even though he wasn’t antagonising you. 

“Thanks for the coffee.” It’s forceful gratitude. You weren’t feeling grateful, but you still had manners. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Don’t make it again.” 

“I will not.” He grins and walks away to his desk. 

You act like you don’t know he’s watching you work. Looking up often to find you stuck on the same page. Even if he knew that you know, he didn’t plan to stop. What he does know is that you’d never directly let him help you. He doesn’t care. There weren’t any new cases this week, so a ton of paperwork was to be expected. It’s taunting enough to write down details of your own assault, the extra paperwork would only add more stress. You’re too busy trying to push through the mental blockade to notice the sudden influx of files on his desk and the efflux on yours. 

What you didn’t miss was how the next cup of coffee you were offered was just as perfect as the one from before. 

“I thought I told you to stop with the coffee, Reid.” You lightly slam the paper cup on Spencer’s desk. 

He leans back in his seat and chews on his lip with an entertained smirk. 

“And I did. That’s not from me.” He’s earnest with his response.

“Oh, so JJ just happens to know my coffee preferences all of a sudden?” You sarcastically retort, crossing your arms.

“No.” He crosses his fingers across his lap. “I told her how you like your coffee when she said she was going on a coffee run.”

“And why did you do that?” You play along, unenthusiastically. 

“Because you told me to stop doing it.” He states in the most casual way possible. 

This was getting you nowhere. It was naive to think he’d let you spend your last few weeks here peacefully. Scratch that– he was being peaceful. Too peaceful. A new tactic to get under your skin?

“Stop. It.” The delivery of your words is slow and emphasised. 

“Stop doing exactly what you’ve told me to?”

You bite your tongue and glare at him. His face, shoulders, arms, everything, is relaxed. You can’t even argue with him. You take a moment to consider how bad it would be if you bashed his head in with the back of your gun. Then you take another to critique how easy it is to pass the psych evals. They should really think about the consequences of using questions the BAU wrote on actual BAU agents. 

After that day you went back to ignoring him. Any time coffee was offered you’d decline altogether. If he attempted to try and talk to you, you’d respond with yes or no for the sake of professionalism. This didn’t deter Spencer though. He gave you your space but kept a close eye on you, continuing to try and ease your burdens from afar. Exactly how he used to. 

This only lasted until the next case came in. Specifically until you were back out on the field, where he perceived you to be in high amounts of danger. You tolerated it because it gave you comfort, not that you’d ever tell him. Having Spencer by your side made it easier to deal with the reality that there’s little you can do if another incident like Anchorage occurred. 

Plus focusing your energy on ignoring him kept the flashbacks away. Or it did, until the take down. You once again found yourself in danger from an unsub, only this time the situation was controlled. All guns were pointed at the killer, except for the one that was pointed at you. The plan was simple: you talk down the unsub, take him back to the station and talk him into exposing his partner. 

Everything was going according to plan, until Spencer realised that one of the cops in the room was his partner and he was about to shoot you. Nobody understood what happened before the situation calmed down. Spencer had fired the first shot towards the dirty cop and immediately tackled you to the ground, shielding you from the hail of bullets that followed after. All you remember clearly is freezing up, clinging to the man on top of you. One moment you were screaming out, trying to make sure that he was okay and the next you were back in the alley behind the bar, fighting for your life. 

You didn’t comprehend anything until the panic attack subsided but Spencer was fine. His vest caught the bullets. Both unsubs were dead. Rossi and Prentiss came to the realisation the same time as Spencer and were quick to react. And you weren’t in the alley. You were in Spencer’s arms as he led you away from the scene when it was safe. 

When you snapped out of it the medics had cleared him of any injuries. He tried to approach you during your check up, but you shoved him away, unable to even look at him. The only thing you remember clearly is Hotch sending you all back to your hotel rooms before tomorrow’s flight back. You should be asleep right now, if not from the exhaustion of today’s events alone, then from how long you spent reassuring everybody that you were okay. 

You couldn’t sleep. Not when so many thoughts were occupying your headspace. This is the second time Spencer’s saved your life, in the span of roughly a month. The first time he’s put his life in direct danger to save yours. Had it not been for his vest he would be dead. The more you linger on it, the angrier you’d become. You were also wearing a vest, you would’ve been fine. What he did was unnecessary and reckless. 

What if the bullet missed the vest? Entered through the side? What was he thinking?

You were mentally fighting the urge to barge into his room and yell at him for his stupidity, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go to him. What happens to him is not your problem anymore. You aren’t going to let your guard down just because he’s an idiot.

Spoilers: BAU! Reader, Reader almost dies, Reader and Spencer are pissing me off, bc they’re so dumb, angst, hurt no comfort, Reader gets a little revenge.

AN - Before you comment ANYTHING, there is one more part. It’ll be posted a lot sooner than this one was. Writing this made me realise how limited the English language is. There’s only so many words to use and ways to write them. If either part sounds repetitive at times, it’s not my fault!!! Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I don’t have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.

If you comment you garner good karma for yourself and that could lead to you meeting MGG someday (I’m not liable if this never happens), think about that... 

Thank you for reading!

[convoy914]

Regarding CrunchyRoll: I think both approaches have their risks and benefits. There ARE still people working on it and will work on it who would suffer, but betrayal tends to hurt the worst and Rooster Teeth is still terrible even if they’re only getting the scraps

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I think Crowley falls into two of the classic pitfalls of people who see that the problems are systemic long before anyone else around them does: impatience and despair.

(Yes yes I know, “Crowley was an optimist.” Book Crowley is an optimist. I don’t think that line is particularly useful for analyzing TV Crowley. Stay with me here.)

Let it be said that 95% of the time, Crowley has the patience of a fucking saint (ssh don’t tell him) around Aziraphale. He knows that Aziraphale needs to build his little plausible deniability rationales in order to do something that they both know he wants to do (because it’s right or simply because he would enjoy it) but Heaven wouldn’t approve of. And most of the time, Crowley is happy to help Aziraphale get there, asking the questions Aziraphale is afraid to ask, offering excuses and justifications until Aziraphale finds one he can accept. He does a lot of work of parsing out when “no” means “you haven’t convinced me yet, keep trying” and pushing through all the “I’m an angel, you’re a demon, we’re on opposite sides and mine is the good one” talk that Aziraphale gets up to all the way through s1. Because he knows that Aziraphale doesn’t really believe that stuff, right? He just needs some time to talk himself around his own cognitive dissonance, and most of the time Crowley is not only happy to facilitate that but sees it as part of his role in their relationship.

But then when the chips are down and Aziraphale is still dithering, that’s when he gets frustrated, because HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE what’s been blindingly obvious to Crowley for millennia, that Heaven is just as cruel as Hell and no one is going to step in and fix it because the system is working as intended. And that’s when he says things like “how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?” Which is a surefire way not to convince the person you’re arguing with of anything.

And then there’s the despair. I really think the running away thing is not about cowardice or selfishness or some kind of unhealthy level of avoidance of hard or scary things, but about hopelessness. They’ve spent their lives avoiding very very real danger, and of the two of them Crowley is much more constantly aware of the danger that they are in from both sides. Yes he’s hypervigilant but he is also almost always right about the amount of danger they are in. Trying to get as far away from danger as possible is not an irrational response, even if it’s not always the correct one for a given situation.

When you feel like you’re the only person who sees how rotten the system is, how it needs to be dismantled entirely, but you are also VERY aware of how strong the people in power are and how ruthless they are about crushing dissent because you experienced it personally…well that gets fucking depressing after a while. Because even if you think the whole system needs to go, that feels like a completely unattainable goal when it seems like no one else even sees the problem, or if they see it, they are too afraid to do anything about it. And can you blame them? You know exactly what happens to people who speak up.

So it’s very easy for your goals to shrink from systemic change to just taking yourself and the people you love and finding somewhere for them to be as safe as possible, for as long as the system will let you exist. Because reforming the system is a fool’s errand, and dismantling it entirely seems impossible. I think this is where Crowley is at. Even if on some level he knows it’s an imperfect solution, because both of them have enough compassion that they would feel guilty abandoning Earth and humans to save themselves, and because Heaven and Hell really can find them anywhere in the universe. He just doesn’t see another option.

And look, I think Aziraphale is 100% wrong that Heaven can be reformed. But he is not wrong to want to stay and fight to make things better, even if it means sacrificing the Earthly comforts he loves so much, and even if it means doing it without Crowley by his side.

Ultimately they both need each other. Aziraphale needs Crowley for his willingness to ask questions and to see the scale of the problem, even if it’s terrifying. But Crowley needs Aziraphale for his hope, his stubborn determination to believe things can and should be better, and to fight for that. In the right hands, hope is an enormously powerful weapon.

[jewish-sideblog]

There’s a reason why the western goyishe left is so preoccupied with labeling people as Zionists, and why there’s so much hypocrisy coming out of these spaces night now. It’s because there’s a broader problem regarding leftist views on violence. There’s a belief that violent cruelty is only morally reprehensible if it is forced upon the “innocent”, and that any and all violence is justified against perceived wrongdoers.

It’s the reason why we always hear that“Six million innocent Jews” died in the Shoah, as if six million dead in a genocide isn’t worthy of condemnation on its own. It’s the reason why debates on the internet about oppression always focus on innocence as opposed to violence.

“George Floyd was innocent,” they say, “there’s no evidence he paid with a counterfeit bill!” The left and the right spent endless time debating that three years ago. Why does it matter if Floyd had intentionally used a counterfeit bill or not? Hell, even if he ran a counterfeiting empire— death by suffocation is not a just punishment for counterfeiting. But for many leftists, a lack of “innocence” would somehow validate the unjust violence he suffered and died from.

“There is no excuse for bombing a hospital,” is the response when they think Israel bombed a hospital. But when it turns out that Hamas actually bombed the hospital, suddenly there is an excuse. “There is no excuse for ethnic cleansing,” is what they say when Israel cleanses Gazans. Meanwhile, they maintain their full support for Hamas, whose stated goal is to ethnically cleanse Jews from the Middle East. Excuses are only offered to those deemed innocent. They view Palestinians, even Hamas, as universally innocent. Israelis and Zionists, even children, are seen as universally guilty.

That’s why the antisemitic stream of the anti-Israeli narrative clings so tightly two ideals: That all Israelis are colonists, no matter what, and that Hamas isn’t actually a terrorist organization committing war crimes. If either of those ideological columns fail, then either the presumption of universal Palestinian innocence fails, or the presumption of universal Israeli guilt fails. Then leftists start asking themselves questions:

Have I been in the wrong? Have I been antisemitic? Am I innocent in all this? And if I’m not, does that mean that violence against me could be justified? Most will choose cognitive dissonance and reaffirm their harmful beliefs, rather than face the answer to any of those questions.

But the truth is that innocence doesn’t have an effect on the justification of violence. There isn’t an excuse for bombing a hospital, intentionally or accidentally. There isn’t an excuse for ethnic cleansings of Arabs or Jews or anybody else. Violent oppression is still bad when it happens to harm people you disagree with. Violent oppression is still bad when it harms bad people.

[clairdelunelove]

okay, but, neighbor!ghost that doesn't usually celebrate halloween– that is, until his pretty neighbor shows up at his front door with a plateful of pumpkin-shaped cookies.

the spooky tradition was never one for him to celebrate. too many memories associated with terror, fright, and horror. his childhood never provided him with a safe space for him to indulge in the fun activities that many children his age would’ve enjoyed. pumpkin carving with a present family. trick-or-treating with a couple of his elementary school friends. apple bobbing at a local fair. all the festivities that caused people to glow with delight. laughter abundant in the air. hence, halloween was disguised as an excuse for people to use when they desired genuine company. a relief from the typical, dull work/school day. a justification to huddle up and share a slice of serenity. instead, it serves as the opposite for him. dread fills his body while recalling his manchester childhood. with tommy crawling to the edge of his meager bed, adorned in a crude skull mask. a means to scare him. hollow eyes cutting right through him in the shadowy room. a scream ripping from his mouth as his palms become sweaty, body kicking into overdrive. fight or flight instincts consuming him. his fault for letting his guard slip. a mistake he rarely committed now. a mistake he’d never fall victim to ever again. but he’s older now. knows that this specific day is the highlight of some people’s year so he doesn’t rain on their parade. simply withdraws from the excessive decorating that some tend to do. flicks off his porch lights that night, too. doesn’t want to get the neighborhood kids’ hopes up if they see that there’s signs of life within his flat. also discovers that the constant ringing of his doorbell is aggravating and having to frequently grumble, “no candy tonight,” is too bothersome. so he’s not one to celebrate halloween– that is, until there’s a soft knock at his door.  

neighbor!ghost who’s cautious about answering the door. because who would need him at this hour? if the base required his presence then they’d phone his landline if it was an emergency. no need to show up at this hour. his dark eyes briefly glance out the nearby window to catch sight of the dusky sky. hues of orange swirled with streaks of titian red that created the perfect backdrop for the evening. the weather had gotten cooler, also. with sharp gusts of wind nipping at the uncovered portions of his face and having to swap out his well-worn shirts for thermal long sleeves. preferred autumn for this sole reason because he’d have to rake up the fallen leaves. gave him a task to complete on the lonesome days when the base didn’t need his presence. he’s mentally checking off a to-do list (did the smoke detector need changing? was the sidewalk covered in leaves? did the ceiling lights need replacing?) when there’s another soft knock. “bloke’s insistent,” he grumbles with a roll of his eyes, “but I’m not buying anythin’.” assumes it’s just a door-to-door scam. or probably people collecting for charity. yeah, those people never let up.

neighbor!ghost who knows that curiosity killed the cat but he argues that satisfaction brings it back. he reaches a hand out to ease out the small piece of paper he stuffed inside the door’s peephole. a tactic he uses for extra security and privacy. never know if an unusual situation will arise. shifting forward, he presses closer to the peephole and focuses his gaze through the small opening. nothing. he huffs in disbelief. can’t believe he’s going through the entire 5 stages of grief solely because of a knock at the door. seriously, how bored must he be to spend this much time on a simple gesture? “wastin’ my bloody time,” he says while narrowing his eyes. yet, his calloused hand grips at the doorknob and twists. perhaps double checking could quell his curiosity. 

neighbor!ghost who’s lips draw together to instinctively blurt, “scram,” before going completely silent at the sight of you. the threat falls flat. you’re practically glowing at his doorstep. despite the lack of actual lighting, due to the fact that he prefers his place shrouded in the night’s shadow, you’re still nervously smiling up at him. a vision wrapped in an intricately knit sweater to combat the chilly evening and pretty eyes that follow him when he braces his arm against the doorframe. “hi,” you quickly regard him with a wave of your hand, eyes still trained on his uncovered bicep. Swirls of darkened ink and intricate patterns that failed to conceal toned muscle. accumulated from years of being in the service. and you assumed such a large man would be grim and solemn; unwilling to give you some of his time. yet, his hooded eyes regard you with an inquisitiveness that causes your heart to thrum harder against your chest. it’s clumsy and the tips of your fingers are trembling but that only intrigues him. he can’t help but mull over the fact that your greeting sounds like a bird’s gentle chirp in the early mornings. it’s polite, sweet, and he craves to hear more of it. 

neighbor!ghost who discovers that if he wordlessly stands there for long enough, you’re compelled to fill the silence. it’s a rather endearing quirk. prefers it, really. he’d rather listen to your angelic voice than hear his surly one. you initially waited for his response but you’re met with quietude and his perceptive gaze. he’s an expert in ridding people of their ulterior motives. you, however, you’re as kindhearted as they come and his verdict is proven correct when you reveal a tray of cookies to him. “made these earlier,” your gaze darted to the floor before quietly confessing, “wanted to drop some off to you.” the platter of sugar cookies gleamed up at him and ghost blinks– once, twice, three times. there were various designs (pumpkins, ghosts, bats) that were carefully decorated with royal icing in autumn colors. they looked perfect and he’d argue that they were better than the ones that he snagged a peek at from the local bakery. “it’s one of my favorite days so,” you cheerfully mention and cue him to take a cookie, “happy halloween.” 

neighbor!ghost who typically doesn’t reach for sickeningly sweet desserts but for you he’d make an exception. he grabs one that you offer to him and rumbles genuine praise, “thanks, sweet thing,” while taking a bite. the nickname provokes a flurry of want within you. you, however, tamper down the desire while you watch with wide eyes. he thoughtfully chews and nods in approval, a movement that draws your focus to him. finishes the treat without any prompting. and with his small confirmation that he enjoyed it, the brightest smile graces your face. the sight festers a warmth within him– one that causes his thoughts to regularly return to you. always. he supposes he could get behind this “halloween” thing if you were the one showing up at his door.

[updownlately]

'cause all of the small things that you do (are what remind me why i fell for you)

| leah williamson x reader

~~~

"You're such an idiot, you know?" Leah fondly shook her head as she bent down, head coming level with your knee.

You were sat on the bathroom counter, a fresh set of clothes finally on you, as Leah stood in between your legs, medical bag propped open beside you.

You winced as an alcohol pad came in contact with your scraped joint, hissing in pain as she tediously worked to clean the dried blood and grime scattered around it.

“Totally worth it,” you yelped in response, the midfielder having pressed directly on your wound. 

Quickly wrapping a bandage around the area she had just wiped, the blonde rose to a standing position, throwing the wrappers into the bin.

“I can’t believe you didn’t get carded…” Shaking her head in disbelief, Leah ripped open another wipe, gently tugging on your wrist after to bring your arm to your chest so she could tend to the burn on your forearm.

“The ref was blind as shit…is it really that surprising? You saw it first hand when they tackled you like three thousand times in the first half!” 

Your whiny justification brought a smile to the Englishwoman’s face, amusement poorly hidden. 

“Still not an excuse to go all Hulk on them. Had the ref been stupid they could’ve given you a red easily.” 

“Who’s to say they weren’t a complete dipshit? For all we know, they’re likely as oblivious off the field too!”

Body shaking with the effort of holding her laugh back, Leah covered her mouth with her hands in a poor attempt to hide her grin. 

“Baby, you can’t just say that…” 

“Why not? And you’re laughing!” A cheeky smile took over your face, chest filling with pride at seeing Leah’s eyes twinkle at your shenanigans. 

“Love…”

“Nope, not hearing it. Your opinion is overruled….I can totally say it and it is funny.” Tongue between your teeth, you shot the blonde a wide grin. 

Sighing in defeat, the grin not leaving her face, Leah pinched your thigh playfully and quickly finished cleaning the cut on your arm.

Reaching for bandages, she slowly began wrapping it around the decent-sized burn, tongue peeking out from behind her teeth, eyebrows furrowing as she focused on laying it flat. 

You watched the midfielder as she worked, shy smile overtaking your mischievous grin. 

Near heart-eyes on your face, you bit back your grin, chin sloping to the side in absolutely adoration.

Meeting your gaze as she finished, the blonde righted herself, head tilting as her cheeks flushed.

Rummaging through the medical kit to keep herself busy, you almost didn’t hear her quiet words over the noise of supplies being ransacked. 

“Stop looking at me like that…”

Confusion crossing your face, your voice came out equally as soft, shoulders dipping. “Like what?”

“…with that look in your eyes, like I’ve done something special…” 

The nervousness was clear in the captain’s voice, her eyes not meeting yours, hand still fidgeting. 

Slowly grabbing Leah by her shoulders, you gently turned her to face you, hands running down until you were holding hers in your own. 

Waiting for steel blue eyes to meet your own, you brought your foreheads together, pulling her in with your legs. 

“You love me everyday. You put up with my dumb butt- yellow cards, twenty something fouls, and tons of cuts and bruises on my arms, that you don’t hesitate to tend to. I’m practically a McCabe in training yet you’re not complaining.”

“Still-“ Her eyes closed, mouth forming a thin line. 

“No.”

“No?” The confused mumble had you smiling, you quickly kissing Leah’s scrunched up nose before resting your head against hers again, voice a murmur in the small space between you two.

“No. You love me always, and take care of me, and check up on me, and you let me be goofy, and eat all your snacks even if you really wanted them. You always let me sit on the right side of the couch because you know it’s my spot. You make sure my kit bag’s always packed because we both know how forgetful I am. You bring me flowers and snacks on the most randomest of days. You let me cry at the cheesiest rom-coms the world has ever known. You love me on my best and my worst days Leah. You haven’t done something special but you are something special…”

You could hear a fly drop in the silence that took over the room once you finished speaking.

Heart pounding at your own raw admission, uncertainty flickered in your eyes, body slightly tensing, waiting.

Inhaling sharply at the lack of response, you began to pull back, ready to put distance between you two, to apologize (for what, you didn't really know). 

Just as you moved back a little bit, you felt a hand come to rest on the nape of your neck, pulling you back close.

You heard the blonde swallow hard, feeling her exhale fan across your face.

“I love you…”

The quiet admission was a whisper, you feeling her lips brush your own as she spoke. 

“I know…and I love you. You’re my something special, okay?”

Feeling Leah nod in response, you placed a loving kiss on the blonde’s lips, then another, and then another. It was only when the next one was cut short by the both of you smiling, that you pulled back, resting your face in the crook of her neck, the dim light of the fading sun casting an angelic glow as you both relaxed in each other’s hold, revelling in your shared love.

You might be an idiot, but hey, at least you were an idiot in love.

[hannie-dul-set]

hii, I will represent onedoor and ask for jaehyun in the reverse harem hell <3

[green card application]. myung jaehyun is a jealous man.

not that he’d ever admit that to himself. absolutely not. he’s not jealous. he’s never jealous. for every single instance that he’d be very explicitly, very overtly be feeling a little green, jaehyun would always have an excuse. a justification. 

he wasn’t jealous when woonhak greeted him ten minutes late on his birthday when the kid greeted everyone else on time— he was wronged. he wasn’t jealous when the kids from last year’s children’s day event kept flocking to sungho instead of him— he was offended. those are completely different feelings from jealousy. he’s above feeling that sickly green emotion.

well. that was until you picked leehan over him to work on the event entrance with you.

“donghyun-ah, the kids keep fighting. do you wanna work together instead?”

in that moment, even myung jaehyun couldn’t deny that what he was feeling was jealousy.

and it wasn’t a very nice feeling.

“quit being pathetic,” taesan bluntly tells him, the both of them sitting on the stairs at the entrance of the office. jaehyun unburies his chin from his knees, still hugging his legs to his chest to look to his left and send taesan, who’s been tossing a rubber ball back and forth into the air, a dirty look. “what? i’m just saying. quit acting like your girlfriend just cheated on you. she’s not. you don’t even have the right to be jealous.��

“mind your own business, jerk,” the both of them have been moping around and wallowing in mutual rejection ever since you and leehan disappeared into the storage room together. why’s this guy acting like he’s all mature all of a sudden?

“just saying,” taesan shrugs, shooting the ball up in the air one last time before hooking an arm to catch and pocket it, because at that moment, the both of them see you and their other friend leave the storage hut, and taesan quickly jumps to his feet and runs up, calling out your name.

jaehyun’s stomach writhes at the sight. it’s mid-afternoon. the sun is so bright and warm and focusing on you entirely, but your attention is caught in between two boys who are trying to carry the boxes, papers, documents for you.

the tree leaves are green. the yard’s grass is green. myung jaehyun is seeing green.

“jaehyun.”

somehow, he thought that the best way to manage this feeling is by throwing a protest. a fit, if you will. for the next three days, he hasn’t been talking to you. he’s been simply just acknowledging your existence as a co-volunteer. he’s nothing more than that to you, anyway.

“jaehyun-ah.”

because taesan is right— he doesn’t have the right to be jealous. he doesn’t have the right to want your attention. he’s doesn’t have the right.

“myung jaehyun.”

he doesn’t—

“jaehyun!”

his three day protest is tossed into the trash when you corner him by side-stepping in front of him before he could flee, catching his face between your hands, and he’s a deer caught in the headlines. “you’ve been avoiding me.” you’re squishing his face. he’s staring at your face. he’s been trying his best to not look at you these past few days and he’s punched square in the nose by the reminder of how pretty you are. “are you sulking?”

the warmth that’s seeping from your palms into his cheeks is overheating is brain. he’s burning. he’s burning up. what...what was he doing again? protest? what? “why—why would i be?”

your hands leave his face and he pouts and frowns even further. “you really think i wouldn’t notice you getting upset the other day?”

that means you’ve been paying attention to him. jaehyun nearly ascends into cloud nine, but he’s brought back down to earth by your next few words.

“it’s not that i didn’t want to work with you. it’s just that donghyun was the only one i haven’t gotten the chance to get close with yet in the committee.”

again, myung jaehyun is a jealous man.

“so i thought it would be a nice opportunity to get along with him better.” and this is a feeling he can’t quite control just yet, and neither can he control his face and expression— a visibly knitted look, downturned lips, and drooping shoulders which don’t go unnoticed by you. “jaehyun-ah, what’s wrong?”

he droops even further, tugging you closer by the hem of your shirt so he could mumble, “i don’t like it.” and again, it’s just as taesan says— he doesn’t have the right to be jealous. 

you laugh. “what do you mean?”

“why do you need to get closer with him, anyway?”

but if he doesn’t have that right, can’t he just earn it?

“you’re already pretty close with me.” 

send me a kpop boy (txt/enha/zb1/bnd/dream) to toss into reverse harem hell! [leehan]

[mazzystar24]

…… i can’t wait until these people are gone

This is in fact the ask that the draft didn’t save for so if my answer is worse than the original I will cry

My eye is legit twitching

So we all know this is bs but let’s go through point by point for why this is bs

“Eddie hasn’t done anything like that for him” (dropped everything and helped him) - this is honestly down to how they act with their emotions, Eddie bottles things until they turn into an emergency drop everything and deal with it situation but buck will have ongoing issues that he’ll need help with and he’ll seek it as it happens (e.g his parents or his injuries etc) and when he does Eddie IS there and shows up for him and helps him but we haven’t had him be in sort of a drop everything scenario (except the Buckley family dinner scene and we don’t know where he went after but the scene we see after that is buck talking to who? Eddie)

“Constantly makes jokes about bucks trauma” - as someone with ptsd and my own fair share of trauma and with traumatised friends I feel like once a certain level of rapport is reached you can joke with eachother about traumas 1. They both do it (e.g bucks “didn’t you just have one of those?”) 2. It’s never in emotional or vulnerable moments 3. It never crosses a line 4. Bold criticism considering Tommy made a daddy kink joke and a comment abt how bucks dad is still alive when buck was opening up abt why Bobby matters sm to him 5. It’s received and delivered well 6. It’s not actually constantly it’s a handful at most and the most outright one is abt the tsunami and that was HIS trauma too dont y’all forget my dude thought his son was dead for a hot minute

Told his team buck needed to get over being crushed by a fire truck- in that scene the writers did everything but flat out say he was projecting, when he’s talking abt bottling things up and his dads advice and all that stuff and the audience KNOWS that he’s just been through a bunch of traumas that he’s bottling up and “getting over” for the sake of Chris, they’re basically flat out telling you he’s projecting, now the minute that hen and bobby point out that buck feels alone what does Eddie do? He drags him out of bed and attempts to motivate him launching “operation buck up buck” in chimneys words, now mind the fact that he doesn’t do this for himself or give himself the same kindness because he genuinely believes you deal with things by ignoring them (reminder this is untherapised Eddie two eps away from fight club) but despite believing that he knows it’s what buck needs so he does it for him

He’s never once apologised for buck and made buck apologise to him- I’m assuming this is abt lawsuit era, I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again no one in the lawsuit era was perfect that’s the whole point, either they’re all in the wrong or they’re all excused because they all had their reasons, Bobby kept buck behind and lied but he was scared to lose him, Buck sued and didn’t tell anyone and went no contact and shared personal shit but he’s just been through a bunch of trauma and his father figure and the man who was by his side the whole time through rehab basically said it isn’t good enough (in bucks brain) and that all that work still means he can’t get back to doing his life’s purpose, Eddie has had hit after hit trauma after trauma with no time to breathe in between AND THEN HIS BEST FRIEND GOES NO CONTACT BECAUSE OF WHAT BOBBY DID AND HE SUES BOBBY AND THE DEPARTMENT WITHOUT TALKING IT OUT WITH ANYONE AND SHARES PERSONAL INFO THAT HIS LAWYER THROWS IN HIS FACE, and while dealing with all the aforementioned trauma Eddie has to deal with Chris’ trauma and Chris missing buck and Eddie not being able to do anything abt it, so yeah honestly he WAS owed an apology (but again imo all sides have justification) and it’s not like he was a dick to buck for an extended period of time, he lasted one shift being bitchy and giving silent treatment and then buck had one emotional talk with puppy eyes and an apology and Eddie instantly was like ofc I forgive you🙄just don’t do it again☝️🤨 and again bold criticism when buck apologised to Tommy for what? Not being ready to come out to his friend in public after exactly one queer kiss and mid first queer date?? And then got ditched on the side of the road by Tommy???

He never once acted like a good friend outside of the will and the hospitals- “you don’t have to be anything for anyone, no one is the same from one day to the next and things like this change us so what changed in you?” “Did you say anything that wasn’t true? Well look maybe you could’ve come at it a little differently but if that’s how you feel, how they made you feel you have every right to say so” “that’s not your fault”“I had to do it- I know you did” “and what you think you failed? I failed that kid more times than I care to count and I’m his father but I love him enough to keep trying and I know that you do too” “there is no one in this world I trust with my son more than you”“you saved him, that’s how he remembers it and now its his turn to do the same to you” “now am I allowed to ask how you are?” “ you died buck you’re gonna feel a lot of different ways about that…I found the best way is to let yourself feel it” - and that’s not even all of them just a few favourites but my thumbs are sore

Eddie has left buck out from so many things and never realised it was wrong- 7x04 is literally the only time we’ve seen that and remember Tim said the whole episode is bucks perspective and I said this before the ep even aired in this ask but it’s still true that for Eddie I think he just genuinely is so secure in their friendship that he didn’t think buck would be insecure abt it and when he does he is actually the one who puts it together and sends Tommy to buck - I go a little more in depth in this post that turned out to be a draft that I freed from my drafts just for this ask also what did we see him exclude buck from? Basketball that he doesn’t like and that he’s asked him to join in multiple times? Watching a fight that he had no previous interest in? Muay Thai that he doesn’t know how to do and again showed no previous interest in? Like when buck and Eddie are close y’all say they’re codependent and unhealthy and when Eddie has other friends y’all say he’s a bad friend?

Tommy was the one who apologised to him - at EDDIES URGING BECAUSE BRO WAS LAID UP AFTER BUCK SPRAINED HIS ANKLE???😭😭

“Tommy has been doing all the things Eddie hasn’t” - youre so right actually like putting a damper on bucks mood or having a racist past or having like 10 lines and the majority of them being sardonic and kinda insensitive, making an emotional moment into a sexual one and having like 5 minutes of screentime 🤩🎀

Wow babe I have a degree in yappology and a minor in ranting for real sorry for the long response 😭😭😭

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

I just had a thought. So, you know that infamous scene in Attack of the Clones where Anakin complains about sand and then kisses Padme? I’m wondering now if the scene would’ve landed better if the situation was reversed. Not the lines, but the kiss.

Anakin talks about his rough childhood, but then unintentionally flirts with Padme (the soft and smooth line). We can excuse this since Anakin is socially awkward and doesn’t really know how to talk to people. So, Anakin doesn’t interpret what he said as suggestive, but Padme does. Padme, thinking that the cute Jedi is hitting on her, leans in to kiss him. Anakin initially accepts, but then remembers he’s a Jedi. He breaks off the kiss and says they shouldn’t have done that.

With this rewrite, we establish:

1) Padme is as attracted to Anakin as Anakin is to her. This helps fix the problem that people had with the movie in that the romance seemed too one-sided.

2) It reaffirms that Anakin, despite his dark tendencies, is taking his Jedi vows seriously.

3) It makes more sense that the character who took a strict vow to avoid attachments is the one who breaks off the kiss.

4) It works better for Anakin’s story since he was “seduced” by the Dark Side. Not saying that Padme was seducing him or that she’s secretly a Sith Lord, but it works in that Anakin is someone who was tempted to break his vows by his own desires. He’s like a priest who falls in love, despite knowing that his vows are preventing him from getting married.

5) Maybe this is just me, but I feel that it makes more sense to portray Padme as the one pushing for the romance than Anakin. Padme is a rich politician, she doesn’t have the same restrictions in pursuing a partner that Anakin has. I mean, the justification the movie gave was that she’s a senator, which doesn’t really make sense. You can be a senator and still be married. Sure, she could be thinking that it’d be scandalous if people learned that she was dating a Jedi, but that’s more Anakin’s problem than her. Her political career could survive, Anakin’s Jedi career would be toast.

Also, Padme is someone who had guys pursuing her, thus it makes more sense she’s a lot more comfortable when it comes to romance. You can further justify this as Padme being someone who isn’t used to so many rules and restrictions over how to live her life, thus she doesn’t realize that Anakin is taking his vows seriously. Meanwhile, Anakin is someone who spent most of his childhood with his mom, Obi-Wan, and the Jedi Order, it makes more sense for him to be the one who doesn’t have romance on the mind. You can further justify this as Anakin is someone who never thought he’d even get the chance to fall in love because he grew up as a slave and then took on the Jedi vows.

[sleepiexx]

I Still Love You

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to Pt.1

Note: I’m not even going to tell u the excuse for why this took so long, terribly sorry for that, more stuff is coming I love y’all 🫶

Summary: How can you expect to get the woman you’ve loved for such a long time out of your mind?

Warnings: small mention of blood, someone threatens someone w a knife

Word count: 1463

A familiar scene was spread across the prison floors, the deep crimson that Valeria knew all too well along with its pungent metallic smell and the unmoving bodies of prison guards. Carnage.

Valeria could be a philosopher with how often she thought poetic thoughts of carnage. It followed her around— or rather, she created it— how could it not take president in her mind? Be it guilt, or justification of her actions, or even past traumatic events she had witnessed, carnage was always there. But during her time behind bars, the time it seemed the most fitting to reflect, she found that something else took up her every waking thought.

This led her not to one of her many safe houses, as she had planned in the event of her capture and prompt escape, but to an apartment she’d only narrowly been able to discover through research she had her lawyer conduct. Fourth floor, number eleven. She repeated it over and over, until it may as well have been etched into the tough bone of her skull. Y/n’s place. All she wanted was y/n.

At night, in her cell, it wasn’t the stiff mattress, or the freezing cold air which was barely combatted by the all-too-thin blanket that kept her awake. No. It was the constant replay of y/n walking away from her that had her staring at the concrete ceiling. She could still feel her lips, as if they had only just parted despite the months they spent apart. You can never just forget the woman who ran through your mind rent free for years, especially not when she makes an exit like that after you see her for the first time since you left the army to start a cartel.

So she followed her gut, followed it all the way to the fourth floor, and all the way to number eleven.

The room was dark, but cozy, sleepiness seeped from every pore in y/n’s body as she sat nearly fused to the couch, yet despite that, she continued to raise the tv remote and click “play next episode” on the series she had been watching on Netflix. It was mindless, truly, she hated it. The show was lame with it’s bland plot lines mashed between mediocre sex scenes, but y/n would not dare consider the alternative. Sleeping ever since she had left Valeria in that shipping container was not an option. When she tried, all she was met with was a gut wrenching guilt which left her staring at the ceiling like her eyelids were stapled open.

She wondered what Valeria was up to. If she was getting any sleep in prison, y/n guessed not so she rationalized her own insomnia by saying she did not deserve sleep as long as Valeria could not. In the beginning, she almost hoped Valeria would break out. It was wrong, sure, but y/n couldn’t force herself to want the woman to rot in prison. Now, though, as the months dragged on, her hope seemed to dissipate and what had happened felt all too real. Valeria was stuck in a cell now, all because of her. The guilt ate away at her spirit like acid.

So, yeah, maybe she did really need sleep, but no she would not turn off the trashy Netflix series because it was the only thing keeping her mind off of it all. Until her attention was caught by a slight noise in the kitchen. Nothing loud, in fact it would have gone undetected to the untrained ear, but y/n was anything but. She left the tv on, so as not to alert any possible intruder to the fact that she knew they were there. Ever so carefully, she crept into the kitchen, grabbing a pocket knife she left on the coffee table after opening a package earlier in the day.

A figure stood in front of the window which led to the fire escape outside, closing it quietly. Y/n let it close all the way before shoving them into the wall, knife pressed against their neck. The lack of fight that the opposing party put up was a shock, that is until y/n got a good look into their deep brown eyes.

“Valeria?” Shocked, y/n pulled away. She dropped the knife on the dinner table, in favor of walking a few paces backwards away from the woman.

“Did you miss me?” She smirked, that same smirk y/n had seen time and time again.

Y/n scrunched her brows in disbelief, “Christ, what are you doing here? And why did you come through the window?”

“I thought you would be asleep, and isn’t it obvious why I’m here?” Valeria stretched out a hand.

Y/n shook her head and turned away, furious, attempting to walk away. Maybe she could just crawl back under her blanket on the couch and everything would all just go away. But that couldn’t happen with Valeria chasing after her, grabbing onto her shoulder and spinning her around.

“I told you this couldn’t happen again.” Y/n fumed.

“Yeah, well, we both know you didn’t mean that.”

Valeria pushed y/n up against the wall of her apartment, breaking the tension without hesitation by kissing her. Where the prior kiss had been tender and loving, this one was rough. Fast paced and dirty, with Valeria digging her teeth into y/n’s bottom lip. The girl let out a yelp from the pain, only giving Valeria further access to her mouth.

The kiss was reciprocated, as y/n threw all coherent thought and caution to the wind, grabbing onto Valeria’s shirt and pulling her closer.

All at once it was like she was taken back to years ago when all she knew was her love for the spitfire lieutenant who saved her like she were nothing more than a damsel in distress.

She stood in her own apartment and yet the walls seemed to morph into the one Valeria used to own. She felt younger, as though her sergeant patches and all of her ribbons had been ripped off in exchange for her old private ones. Years of separation and the passion had not changed.

They parted for air, y/n still clutching Valeria’s shirt. She stepped forward, closing the space between them as she wrapped her arms around Valeria and buried her face in her neck, inhaling the scent that was so uniquely hers.

“As much as I don’t want to admit it, it’s so good to see you.” Y/n whispered.

Valeria pushed away, only so that she could stare at y/n’s face, “what, didn’t think I’d come back?”

Y/n shook her head, scratching the nape of her neck awkwardly, “I didn’t know if you wanted to.”

“Do you want me here?”

The abrupt silence that followed was overwhelming. The answer was yes, god, yes y/n wanted her there, but how could she ever admit that?

She worked hard to get to where she was, trained tirelessly, and fought tooth and nail for her rank. It was not an easy feat, not from how she had started, and especially not from the major set back Valeria’s disappearance had caused her. But she persevered through it all, reigning victorious, claiming the rank she proudly wore against her chest every day; with no help from the woman who stood before her, mind you.

So how could she cave in that moment? How could she give it all up for someone who was not even there for support? Neither without great internal struggle.

“I shouldn’t.” Y/n muttered, beginning to pace around, “fuck, I really shouldn’t, everyone- everyone would be so mad at me but, damn it, I can’t help it.”

Valeria made her way closer and closer, until y/n was up against the wall again, unable to focus on anything but her. No more pacing, no more fighting with herself, just Valeria. Valeria pressed the palm of her hand to the side of y/n’s face, running her thumb over the girl’s lips, mesmerized, “no one else is here. Just you and me.”

“Just- just you ‘n me.” Y/n whispered, “you gonna leave me again?”

Valeria shook her head, “never meant to the first time.”

Y/n nodded and tilted her head so she could press a kiss to the heel of Valeria’s hand, content with her answer, allowing herself a moment of respite in her old flame’s grasp.

“‘M tired, and I bet you are too. Come to bed with me?”

Valeria agreed, following her into her bed and shortly thereafter into a deep sleep. It wasn’t much, it certainly wasn’t perfect, but they were right where they belonged: together.

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

Shanks stayed behind for Buggy when he was sick, but if the roles were reversed, would Buggy do the same for Shanks and miss out on Laughtale? I'm 50/50 but my opinion means nothing because I'm not a One Piece fan (I just love Shanks and Buggy). I'd love to hear your thoughts. You're much more qualified to answer 😂

ooh.

my first thought is: no, he doesn’t stay behind, but he regrets it almost immediately.

justifications below the cut.

see, i’m mostly thinking about this in terms of the character traits that mirror best. shanks is optimistic and passive, his decision to stay put and wait for another opportunity makes perfect sense to me. it makes no sense to buggy, who is impulsively active and a pessimist, assuming the worst and doing things without thinking his actions through, usually with terrible consequences.

but how can going to laugh tale come with consequences?

well. what if buggy feels the same way as shanks—i don’t want to go there without him—but doesn’t realize it until it’s too late?

standing on the last island, watching the rest of the crew walk into the cave that’s supposed to hold this incredible treasure… buggy wants to see it! he wants to take it! but there’s a pit in his stomach that grows bigger and bigger the longer he stands there, alone.

this is wrong.

there’s supposed to be someone else here.

he’s made a terrible mistake.

i don’t think anyone notices that buggy didn’t come in with them until they’re packing it in, done with their laughter (and maybe carving a message for the future at the bottom of that last poneglyph). but rayleigh spots buggy at the entrance to the cave, hunched over in a shuddering, weeping ball, and he realizes what’s happened.

“you didn’t want to see it without shanks after all, huh?”

buggy startles, tries to pretend that he saw it, that he’s fine. he’s just—allergic to something in the air here, yeah! that’s why his eyes are watery!

rayleigh isn’t fooled, but he lets the excuse lie. he gives buggy a reassuring pat on the shoulder and leads him back to the ship. “i’m sure he’ll understand.”

and shanks probably would understand… if buggy ever told him.

because the second key part to this au is that i cannot see buggy ever admitting to this flagrant weakness. he was at the site of the greatest discovery in history! and he turned his back on it because he felt bad that shanks wasn’t there???

he can’t say that!

especially not when they return to that island where shanks has been waiting to find him recovered nicely, pretending that he wasn’t absolutely miserable on his own eager to tell buggy all about the fun little adventures he got up to while he was waiting for them to come back!

he can’t tell shanks the truth now, not when shanks clearly had no problem having a good time without him.

so buggy lies through his teeth, tells shanks that joyboy’s treasure was so cool and it’s too bad shanks was sick and missed it—but hey, they can always go there together someday! buggy already knows the way, so it’ll be easy! plus then buggy will be the only person who’s ever seen it twice, and won’t that be something!

shanks’ eyes are still a little red after whatever captain roger said to make him cry. he manages a small smile. sure, buggy. whatever you say.

and maybe buggy shouldn’t be surprised, the day roger is executed, when shanks tells buggy he doesn’t want to go to laugh tale. after all, shanks was never the kind of pirate who wanted treasure, was he? and what could it matter to buggy? he’s seen it already.

words dry up in buggy’s mouth.

later, the shame will curdle to rage—how dare shanks refuse to go! when buggy turned away from glory and riches for his sake?!—but in the moment all buggy can do is run away.

[forestdeath1]

When we talk about Snape, the discussion often focuses on how he was bullied at school (aka the Marauders were bad) and how Snape bullied students (aka Snape was bad).

While they are all bad in their actions, friendly reminder that Snape’s most unforgivable act, which often gets overlooked, is his voluntary joining of Voldemort. Voldemort is a dictator and the Death Eaters are not just an underground terrorist group, but a political force that caused a war and genocide. It’s not only terror, it’s genocide. This is so terrible that I can’t even describe how awful this decision was. For me it’s hard to understand how this can be justified by saying he was bullied at school. I will never understand. (And we can’t compare what Draco said about Hufflepuff to what James said about Slytherin as equal "bullying". Slytherin at that time was a place that supported this policy on an institutional level. There’s nothing wrong with speaking out against Slytherin because Slytherin was spreading ideas of genocide).

Although I believe Snape fully redeemed himself, this act can’t be excused by any bullying. I can love Snape as a character, but I can’t ignore this and justify it by his past.

(The Marauders were also wrong to bully Snape, that’s obvious).

Snape fell very deep by his own choice and that makes his redemption more meaningful.

I’m an atheist, but I can’t help but remember these words from the Gospel:

"I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent" (Luke, 15:7)

But nevertheless, it was and remains the most terrible thing he did. And arguments about whose bullying was worse – Snape’s or the Marauders’ – are pointless because any bullying is bad. But it’s not a justification for Snape.

[vasito-de-leche]

Hiii! I hope you’re doing well!! I’m just wondering if i could request some yandere Forget Me Not headcannons? If not, some general romantic hcs would be fine!

That said, don’t overwork yourself and feel free to decline this if you feel like it!

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - Yandere Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Forget Me Not as a Yandere.

I am doing well, ty for asking! and ty for the yandere request, I love writing this type of stuff <3

warning for yandere content and everything it entails. as well as self-harm and suicide themes

Forget Me Not as a Yandere would be pretty standard, I think─at least from the beginning.

I want to say that his lack of experience and proper, healthy examples when it comes to relationships and interpersonal skills is the basis of his Yandere profile: he's hindered by even more twisted impulses and intrusive thoughts, and thus would cling even HARDER to his self-imposed restraints because the stakes are higher now. The consequences would be even more severe should he lose control.

From an outsider's point of view, perhaps he appears to be meaner than usual, there's more bite behind his words as opposed to his elegant way of serving backhanded compliments. While those who spend more time with him would notice that he's unbelievably tense and high-strung. Essentially, it's the same fight between indulgence and restraint that I've been portraying in previous FMN posts, only ramped up to 200%.

The thing about Forget Me Not as a Yandere is that he would be extremely malleable and reactive to his darling. He's so very easy to influence, for better and for worse─the attention he pays to every single detail about you, your habits, your gestures and every little "tell", borders on predatory. It's very ironic, the way he can't understand his own feelings nor thoughts but he actually can read you crystal clear, that he may know you better than you know yourself. The dynamic of your relationship would be determined in your first interactions with him, and it AAAAAALL depends on you. But it's not as binary as who gets to be the "dominant" party and who gets to be the "submissive" party!

When I say Forget Me Not is malleable, I mean it.

In the context of entering a relationship with him, yes, there is the chance that, if you show any signs of "submission" (a more timid and meek personality) Forget Me Not will take advantage of it to the fullest─either through force, coercion or manipulation. We all know he's not below playing dirty and acting to get what he wants, after all. And there is also the chance that, if you show the opposite (a more stubborn and combative personality, to go against him whenever possible) that he will meet you with as much vitriol as you show him, or that he will become even more obsessed with making you submit to him, to blur both love and hatred together as mentioned before. You know, all these classics traits in Yandere content!

But the secret third option is that, if you play your cards right, he will be at your absolute mercy as well.

You can play the exact same mind games he plays and have him eating out of the palm of your hand. After all, he's just looking for ANY excuse and justification to unravel and let loose─you taking the reigns is just as good as him taking the lead. At the end of the day, as long as he gets your undivided attention, the dynamic doesn't matter. We're talking about a guy who pretends to be a poised gentleman and a functional member of society. A cowardly snake who doesn't want to face the consequences of his actions and would absolutely prefer to double down on his awful behaviour and then die at the end than think of apologizing to a single person.

This guy? As a Yandere? Yeah, he will adapt to you, but he will also allow you to manipulate him if you have the courage to reach out and tug at his leash, to take advantage of his obsession. I would even go as far to say that THIS outcome would be the best one for him, as it means that he doesn't have to take responsibility for his own life: that burden is now on you, you own him now. Good luck!

For this post, I'll talk about this secret third option since it's the most interesting in my opinion!

I'm not sure how to format my headcanons and thoughts properly, so I'll do something new and rate the general Yandere traits I think are relevant for him! Obsessiveness is one I specifically left out because it's the most basic requirement for Yandere characters, it feels unnecessary to discuss it. That shit must be cranked up to the highest setting or else there's no Yandere in the first place!

Possessive: ✦✦✦✧✧✧

In this context, he perceives his life to belong to you and only you─the nuance of the situation and whether it gets worse or a better for him are up to you, there's literally endless possibilities─and so it makes sense for him to be possessive, but not in the traditional sense that we're used to, so to say?

Because one of the important aspects of Forget Me Not as a character is the self-loathing. To me, this is one of the few core aspects that must remain in every AU or iteration for him to feel in-character. He's defined by revenge, self-loathing and a delusional mind. And it's this self-loathing that leads Forget Me Not into a very, very insecure mindset─because he's fully aware that YOU could aim for a better lifestyle, a better partner, someone who wants what's best for you instead of wanting to drag you down, deeper and deeper into the mess that is his life. Of course, this is something he won't allow now that you've so gracefully let him latch onto your side like a parasite, but it's a possibility that will continue to haunt him forever.

And so, he's possessive of your ownership and control over him, what he perceives to be the bond that ties you to him or viceversa. It's not quite "You're mine, and no one else's", it's more of a "I'm yours, and no one else's".

No matter what you do to him, he will remain by your side. The idea of you favouring someone else, or choosing to be with someone else and keep him by the sidelines, well, it will ruin him, of course! But Forget Me Not has been waiting for the other shoe to drop his whole life, and so NOTHING you can do can convince him to leave or do anything to "get back at you" in a direct way─aside from manipulating the world to leave you behind instead, perhaps. I like to think he'd still be a pretty pathetic, soggy and miserable guy. Desperate to prove to you that he's going to stay no MATTER what you do or say to him.

It's fine if you hate him, it's fine if you love him. But at the end of the day, you should at appreciate his loyalty and treasure him. Forget Me Not wants YOU to be the possessive one, to want him despite how awful he is, all while accepting the fact that you will never truly be his, because he doesn't deserve you.

Not to say that you keep the guy on a literal leash 24/7, of course! But to if you were to flirt with someone else in front of him, chances are Forget Me Not won't move a single finger. He would stay there, glaring daggers at the perpetrator, and then whine and guilt trip you into paying attention to him. But if someone were to flirt with him instead, he would be pretty ruthless in his rejection, proud and loudly declaring who he belongs to.

Perhaps it would be better to describe him as clingy instead? I think as indulgent as Forget Me Not can be when it comes to his vices, being by your side would be his utmost priority in this context. He won't follow you around like a lost puppy like other characters might do, but he would instead pull a few strings here and there behind the scenes to ensure you always happen to be within his line of sight.

Actually, now that I'm thinking, Forget Me Not as a Yandere would have EXTREME separation issues. This guy would ABSOLUTELY be the type to watch you sleep, because he just can't fathom the idea of being, what, 8 hours away from you? All of this being tied to his anxieties and codependency. I don't see him being very vocal about his love for you, or if he is then the sort of shit he spouts could easily be misinterpreted as thinly veiled threats, or just self-affirmations for himself.

Delusional: ✦✦✦✦✦✦

I'm giving him full points in this section because aside from the aforementioned anxieties, paranoia and self-loathing that gets him to be so, so very miserable, Forget Me Not is pretty much Delusional with a capital D.

Regardless of the path that led you to him and this situation, Forget Me Not would cling onto the fact that you currently own his heart, his mind and his entire life─this OBVIOUSLY means, in his book at least, that you care or love him just enough to take on such a burden. It's pretty much everything I discussed up until now mixed into one big cocktail of delusion and desperation. There's no takebacksies now!

Regardless of your treatment of him, Forget Me Not wholeheartedly believes that you love him to some degree, and that is more than enough for him to fuel his delusions, to overthink every action and every gesture as an act of love. He can still read you like an open book, he knows whenever you're nervous, whenever you're scared, whenever you get angry at him─how else can one explain such reactions, if love isn't at the center of it all? If you didn't love him, you would treat him with indifference, you would discard him like a broken toy!

Of course, if you WERE to treat him with indifference or attempt to discard him and get him out of your life, he would just find more and more ways to come back, to twist your words and their meaning to something that fits his narrative, to worm his way into your life the same way you've done, worming into his own heart. There's no point in trying to make sense of his logic, there is none, it's just the nonsensical, lovestruck fantasy he's built for himself.

Whether you kick him in the mouth or hold him close to you, the only truth Forget Me Not will stand for is your love for him.

But I think it would be fun if this is something he only made known to you? To the outside world, he makes them believe what they want to believe, make whatever assumption about your relationship with him─the muddier the truth becomes for the rest, the easier it is for him to trap and isolate you. Forget Me Not has a talent for acting, to play every unassuming role required for whatever schemes he's got under his sleeve, he might be a pathetic, desperate excuse of a man, kneeling and clinging onto you, but he still retains his cunning mind when it matters. And when you're not around to cloud his vision, he's dangerous.

No matter what others might think, Forget Me Not would find a way to profit─it doesn't matter if your best friend has an inkling about the true nature of your relationship, he will capitalize on it to ensure they remain far, far away from helping you escape. If your coworkers or classmates or what have you believe you two are an odd couple? Then that's what you two are! It's not like they know any better!

Forget Me Not knows more than anyone that there is no fighting the perception of others. There is a group of humans who simply decided he was the Devil himself, based entirely on his heritage rather than his actions. So he plays his part and lets their own biases do their thing, easy.

In that same vein, if you've indulged or pampered him a lot, then he would be more ready to believe anything you say. Sure, Forget Me Not knows that you may lie to him, you might've done that already many times before, but how can he say no when you've been so sweet to him lately?

Manipulative: ✦✦✦✦✦✦

You know what. Self-explanatory, I don't even have to ramble about this because I've talked about how manipulative Forget Me Not is in pretty much all of his posts. He rarely chooses direct confrontations,

I'm inclined to believe that he would only do so in extreme situations, and even so, he would only dirty his hands and confront whatever obstacles in his path─but confronting you? He's too much of a coward, he would never dream of confronting you without ensuring that you will deliver the answer and reaction he seeks, out of fear of hearing the truth from your own lips. I insist, he's not afraid of digging himself into his own grave with his schemes and manipulations if it means maintaining this whole status quo.

So, instead let me talk about how you can manipulate him instead, to level the field a little!

Physical touch in any way is the easiest way to force Forget Me Not to listen. From pulling on his hair to caressing his cheek─I don't think he will ever get used to having you touch him. Again, he thrives with whatever you throw at him, so it's up to you to choose.

I think lying to him and getting away with it is very difficult. In fact, if you think you've successfully lied to him, it's probably because he decided to let you believe he's none the wiser. so instead you would have to appeal to his emotional side. It's as easy as bringing up the whole ownership/possessive aspect, any reminder that he's all yours is enough to get Forget Me Not to comply after some minimum reluctance and pushback from him. It doesn't matter if you're guilt tripping him or threatening him, he thinks it's so romantic that you would go out of your way to reassure him of his position.

Sadism ✦✦✧✧✧✧ / Masochism ✦✦✦✦✧✧

Lately, I've been seeing Yandere content being slowly portrayed as a watered down version of what it used to be, like, to call a character who is just possessive a Yandere and that's it.

But I'm a fan of dark content, and to theorize about everything that comes with these themes─this includes physical harm, something that people are more sensitive towards, which is fair and I understand if this isn't everyone's cup of tea!

So far, most of the violence towards the reader has been emotional and psychological, with physical violence being directed instead to third parties. Here, there will be discussions of potential physical violence towards the reader and Forget Me Not.

That's why this section is at the bottom, so that you can opt out of it!

Something I forgot to bring up directly is the themes of idealization and religious parallels when it comes to the way Forget Me Not interprets his relationship with you.

Despite all these things, he still considers you way above him, a holy figure deserving of everything he can offer─so I don't think he would be physically abusive nor be threatening in this way either. He finds zero pleasure in the idea of physically harming you, and would very much prefer to chip away at your mental stability and vulnerability by hurting himself. Hell, he would prefer to have YOU hurt him instead, to have physical proof of your influence on his body. It aligns perfectly with his self-loathing. If you could scrape off all of his scales with your nails and replace when with the scars you leave him, he would be so, so very grateful.

Or to have you pluck his scales off one by one as punishment, he would absolutely love that. I think that, in those days in which he cannot tolerate nor deal with himself, when he cannot drown his sorrows in alcohol, he would become an active nuisance for the very small and off chance that you lash out at him. It's very cathartic to him.

This post focuses on a very specific outcome of the whole Yandere situation with Forget Me Not, but even so, I believe that every other version in every other situation would still have Forget Me Not being more of a masochist than a sadist. At least when talking about his darling. Given the type of person that he is and all, he would still prefer more mental games.