#also if your point is just 'oh but when we criticize him now people will feel like not voting :('

[claire-starsword]

"continuing like 80 years of US foreign policy" which includes genocides but not in their own country, so it's therefore not nazi-like in the slightest. cool.

okay i love your posts and work and understand why you hate the US and both parties (reasonably) but can we please stop with like. just the biden slander. like haha biden old and dumb bothers me because it equates 81 year old continuing like 80 years of US foreign policy and 78 year old who openly paraphrases NAZI rhetoric in one of the worlds superpowers. like i fucking hate biden and am vocal about this but equating status quo old guy and fascist old guy is such a false comparison

you (plural, i have multiple of these asks rn) gotta reflect a bit on what you're using your political campaigning energy on if your biggest issue of the day is me making a shitpost. my post i made last night literally just comments directly on the two biden press conferences that day where he first referred to ukrainian president zelensky as "president putin" and then later referred to his vice president kamala harris as "vice president trump".

i am making fun of the CURRENTLY SITTING president of """""the free world""""" who's very clearly not in any position anymore to be doing this job. none of what i said in any way even pits him against trump, but im not making fun of trump because right now he's fucking irrelevant as he's not currently in control of the most powerful country in the world. i sure hope he still won't be after november, but you're not going to win this election by getting mad at some european tumblr user who made an observational joke.

there is so much more i could say about this and especially how meaningless this election really is when it's suddenly taboo to at all criticize the lesser of the two evil, who as a reminder, has been actively aiding the genocide in gaza and has now thrown trans kids under the bus for some minor campaign points. i somehow remember there being this thing about how biden was the compromise candidate but surely we could push him to the left, but hey, what do i know about politics.

[eucalyptus-lvs]

Your Girl? - Carmen Berzatto x Reader

When I first started writing this it was going to be a stand-alone, but I could also see it as a pt. 2 to Good Luck Charm. Either way, I hope you enjoy it. If you have any thoughts or constructive criticism it's always appreciated. May not be the most canon portrayal of Carmy, but after S3 I need some happy moments. - Elli <3

TW: None. Maybe a suggestive comment or two.

Walking into The Beef you’re immediately hit with the smell of fresh bread and cooked meat. Before you can even make it to the counter Richie's face breaks into a bright smile as he spots you. "You're not supposed to be in today. Couldn't stay away from me, sweetheart?"

Most people found him to be rough around the edges, maybe even misogynistic, but you preferred to think of him as old-fashioned. 

The two of you grew close in the time you spent working together.

Although you started as a dishwasher, Mikey had switched you to the front after two weeks of working there when Richie almost made a kid cry for trying to order a hotdog with ketchup. You quickly learned that your new job was about keeping the peace and making things run as smoothly as the people around you would allow. 

Regardless, it was hard to see the man in front of you as a bad guy after watching him get on his knees to put a Hello Kitty bandaid on Eva's hand at a time when she was adamant about being “champion of the monkey bars”.

"Oh, I never wanna be away from you, honey." You share a laugh. "I just came by to drop something off for the boss. Then I'll be on my way."

"He's in the back if you wanna go on through."

"So I can get sucked into the vortex of chaos on my day off? I don't think so." The fighting has slowed down a bit at the restaurant, but it was still pretty busy. Guaranteeing that the energy level was always high. 

"Good point. I’ll tell him you're here." 

“Thanks, Rich.” You move to stand off to the side in a less crowded part of the restaurant. Taking out your phone, you check the time as you watch him retreat into the back. 

If you make this quick you can still get to the coffee place a couple blocks over before it closes for the day.

After a moment you see them both enter from the kitchen. Richie goes back to the register to attend to the customers, while Carmy heads your way.

"Hey. Richie said you had somethin' for me?" Wiping his hands on a towel and tossing it over his shoulder as he approached you. “Everything okay?”

"Yeah. I was getting ready this morning and saw this on the bathroom counter." You reach into your pocket to pull out a gold chain.

His gold chain.

Dangling between you both from your fingers.

"Shit, I don't even remember takin' it off." Grasping it from your hand to undo the clasp and put it on.

"That's because I did right before we got in the shower. I'm surprised it's still together with all the wear and tear you put it through."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for droppin’ it off. I coulda stopped by tonight though. After I close up?" The phrasing of his statement sounding more like a question.

"I was close by. I wanted to try that coffee shop down the street I was telling you about." You took a step toward him and whispered, "As for tonight, you know I want you over, but we're gonna have to make an effort to get some actual rest before we both develop a sleeping disorder."

"You seem to be doin’ just fine.” A grin broke out on his face.

"Did you forget the part where I told you I have to go get coffee?" You reminded disapprovingly.

"Okay, I get it. Sleep sounds really fuckin' good right now actually." He ran a hand through his hair as he paused. "You eat somethin' already?"

You break eye contact to look around the room aimlessly and avoid the question until your eyes land back on him. “....Huh?”

“We talked about this. You can’t starve yourself all day and then do your fuckin’ girl dinner shit when you get home.”

“First of all, you will never know the joys of girl dinner because you refuse to participate. It's the most well-balanced meal I'm capable of. Second, I've been running around all day and I forgot.”

“First of all, the fact that you call a plate with butter noodles, kimchi, a hard-boiled egg, and some red cherries ‘the most well-balanced meal you're capable of’ is scary. It's really fuckin’ scary. Second, I know you're busy. I'm a chef! What kinda asshole do I look like lettin’ my girl eat like that because you refuse to let me cook you somethin’?” He shot back, growing exasperated with the topic at hand.

“It literally covers all the major food groups! Wait-” You paused, tilting your head. Only just processing his full statement. “your girl?”

You can see the exact moment he processes it too. His eyes widened in panic. “Uh I-I meant, I mean we’ve kinda been-”

“Oh my god, you poor baby boy. You're blushing.” A smirk grows on your face.

“Fuck off” His eyes focusing on the floor, shaking his head. The heavy blush spread up his neck as well as his face.

“I'm afraid I can't do that at this particular moment, but maybe we both will later after you ask me to be your girlfriend.” You replied in a sing-songy voice. “Yknow for future reference you typically ask someone when you want to be exclusive with them.”

He leaned closer to you, eyebrows furrowing as he lowered his tone so he wouldn't be overheard. “I-I thought we've been exclusive. I haven't seen anyone else since you.” 

“I haven't either, but I guess if you want it to stay that way you're gonna have to ask me and make this official. Unless,” You lean away, kissing your teeth as you cross your arms. “you're too scared?”

“You know what? I'm not gonna ask.”

“Wow, you've already backed out. You sure there's not some other girl I should know about?” You mocked, knowing he barely had the time and energy to keep up with you. 

Even if he did, you knew there was no one else. Spending most of your nights at each other's place testing new recipes or wrapped up together in the early hours of the morning before the restaurant needed attending. 

That's why it never occurred to you to define what this is. He was making an active effort to have a life outside of the restaurant and he was doing it with you. 

That doesn't mean you couldn't enjoy making him sweat a little though.

“What?! No. I'm not asking because you're gonna ask me.”

“I’m gonna ask you to be my girlfriend?”

“No, smart-ass.” He let out a breathy chuckle, gesturing vaguely. “Your yknow- boyfriend.”

“Well, that's never gonna happen.” You stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why not?”

“Because you're right. I should get a boyfriend that’ll take care of me and all my food-related needs.” Shrugging your shoulders you wave a hand in the direction of the register. Shouting, “RICH-”

“Stop.” He cut you off, raising his hand. “That's not even funny.”

“Oh, come on. It's a little funny.” You giggle, nudging his arm with your hand.

Shaking his head, he leads you to a table to sit down. “I've gotta get back in there.” Leaning close to your ear he whispers, “Sit tight while I make somethin’ for my girl.” Cupping the underside of your jaw with his calloused hand, he places a quick kiss on your cheek before walking off. 

You smile as you watch him disappear past the doors and back into the kitchen. 

You weren't gonna make it to the coffee shop today, but that was okay. Maybe you could go together on your way to work tomorrow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Richie came up and put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing. “You call for me?”

You put your hand over his and squeezed back. Looking up at him you replied, “Just fuckin’ with Carm.”

“Good girl.”

[amnestria-the-elf]

So we're all just supposed to be fucking grateful that Larian gave us "new Wyll content" (evil ending for a man who is canonically incorruptible, what the fuck) and simultaneously broke him again (giving low approval greetings to a romanced PC, what the fuck).

I... I just... the simultaneous feelings of rage and utter hopelessness are overwhelming.

Listen, if you've read any of my posts you know I have a pretty clear "Don't yuck anyone's yum" policy. If you think an evil Wyll ending is interesting, fine. But here's why it falls flat for me.

First, like I said above, Wyll is canonically incorruptible. It's literally the entire basis of his character. He is a man who was coerced into making an infernal contract to save a city and had to pay a horrible price for doing so, then spent seven fucking years alone in the wilderness doing his damned best to protect the people of the Sword Coast, while all along telling his horrible, abusive patron to just fuck off already.

Now, could you argue that during the events of the game, Wyll develops a taste for evil? Sure. There are plenty of opportunities for his villain origin story to unfold. But they never do. His moral compass never wavers. Turned into a devil? He feels shame, because it's an outward sign that he was doing things for Mizora that were morally wrong, and he didn't see it before. His approval rating for the PC shoots through the roof if you save Karlach, a sure indicator of his true moral compass. His father kidnapped? Fuck that noise, we're gonna save him. Rescue Zariel's "asset"? Ugh, fine, but don't get distracted from the real reason we're here. His father gets tadpoled? Oh hells no, we're gonna take down these assholes and save the godsdamned world. His father accuses him of being an agent of a devil and is super pissy about it? "Everything I did, I did for the people of the Sword Coast."

For fuck's sake, he will leave the party if the PC gets too evil, even knowing it means he'll probably turn into a mindflayer immediately. Even if he's romancing the PC. Unwavering moral compass. So giving him an evil ending without also going back and changing everything about his character just feels like lazy writing to me.

Which brings me to the second reason all of this rubs the wrong way. Wyll deserves so much more content. More romanced greetings, more reactions to other characters' choices, a final boss battle that is actually about him, a default ending that actually makes fucking sense (I have another post cooking about the Avernus ending, so I will leave it for now.)

And please, spare me your "But Wyll was rewritten after early access" bullshit. That's Larian's problem. They chose to listen to feedback and do a late-stage rewrite. They then chose to implement it poorly and never fucking fix it. Other characters, who already have far more content than Wyll, have had even more added over the course of the seven released patches. Wyll, on the other hand, has been sitting around completely ignored until now when we get this evil ending.

Many have rightfully pointed out the inherent racism steeped in all of this. I want Larian to be better. But as Maya Angelou said, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them." I already didn't have much hope about Patch 7 for Wyll, but this... honestly, this is worse than him just being ignored again.

The thing that kills me the most is that this is just going to be more fodder for the fandom to completely mischaracterize Wyll, for those who already haven't bothered to think critically about his character at all to just be like, oh, cool, Wyll is evil now. Nope. You've completely missed the point.

I'm just... so tired. I've worked very hard to put this little bubble of Wyll enthusiasts around me (hi friends I love you all!) so that I can hold on to some shred of sanity in this fandom. The world needs heroes of color. Just let Wyll be the hero in peace.

[confused-pyramid]

One Step From Grace | s4

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 19.2k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, abortion mention, implied SA, gun violence, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 4x01, 4x02, 4x03, 4x09, 4x11, 4x16, 4x17, 4x18, 4x23, and 4x26

a/n: Some more tension in the slow burn! I included some more specific episode details in this one, because some of the eps and characters are important to future seasons :') P.S. I love hearing all of your thoughts and comments (it's honestly what makes all of this worth it) so lmk what you think:) Title is from Grace by Rag 'n Bone Man

series masterlist

"Garcia, is everyone okay?"

You can hear the sound of sirens blazing down the street a few blocks away from you, but you're too far away to make it there in time.

"Oh, thank god, you're alright," she gasps over the phone, her voice thick with tears. "Rossi and Reid called me just now, and Derek's on the line."

He greets you with a frantic urgency. "Hey, Y/N, I'm heading to the explosion site to see what happened."

"Okay, sounds good, keep calling people," you instruct Garcia, before swerving across the lanes and turning at the next intersection.

She calls Emily, who tells you that she's also going to the NYPD's critical incident command posts. When she tries JJ, the call doesn't go through, and then suddenly the line goes quiet.

"Garcia?" you call into the void. "Penelope, are you there? Derek? Emily?" No one responds, and your heart rate spikes again as you pull over in front of the command center and rush inside.

Rossi and Reid envelope you in big hugs when you find them in the main bullpen, and soon after, Emily and JJ join you inside.

"Do we know what happened?" you ask them as you crowd around the city map where Reid pinpointed all the prior crime scenes. "What street was the explosion on?"

Reid opens his mouth to answer, when Emily's phone rings. "Yeah, Garcia, I'm back. JJ's here too."

She listens for a few seconds, before her eyes widen and she glances over at you. Lifting the phone from her ear, she puts it on speaker and says, "Can you repeat all of that?"

"Derek's chasing after the bomber," Penelope says, her breaths coming out in short spurts. "The bomb... it was in Kate's SUV, or under it. Hotch is out there with her."

Your heart stutters and you press your palms against the back of the chair in front of you, leaning over it to get closer to the phone. "Is he okay?" You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. "Are they okay?"

"He seems okay, but she looks really hurt. He hasn't moved her."

You release the breath you didn't realize you were holding and stand up straight, turning around to catch your breath. If something had happened to him...something irreversible...you don't know what you would've done. Especially after the last thing you said to him.

It's not your place to have this discussion.

Screw you.

"Where was Kate's SUV parked?" Rossi asks from behind you as you rub your eyes and turn back to face Emily's phone.

"2 blocks East of Federal Plaza."

***

You keep picturing the security camera feed of his SUV blowing up as you rush into St. Barclay's hospital. The moment Morgan called with the update that Hotch was taking Kate there in an ambulance, you all piled into an SUV and drove straight over.

You know Garcia and Morgan said he was fine, but not all injuries are visible. You're the first person inside, and you rush down the hallways until you spot a nurse in the ER. After you flash your badge, she points you to the curtains behind her.

When you push past them, he's standing up, working on the last few buttons of his shirt. His face is covered with tiny abrasions, and there's a piece of gauze stuck to his right ear.

"Aaron," you whisper, not wanting to startle him. He looks up as he grabs his tie out of the bag they put his clothes in. "Let me do that."

You take the tie from him as he sighs and closes his eyes for a long moment. It's silky against your fingers as you loop it around his neck and slide it under his collar.

"How are you feeling?" you ask him, trying to keep your voice soft.

He dips his chin to meet your eye and he squints as he shakes his head. "I'm fine, but Kate's in surgery. It didn't look good."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, forgetting about any prior gripes you had with her. "I'm sure she'll pull through."

He purses his lips and nods, just as the rest of the team pushes past the curtain. You step back quickly without thinking, and you don't miss the flash of confusion in his eyes before he turns to Morgan for the latest update on the bomber.

You swallow thickly as you look at your feet, letting everyone else walk around you. You don't know why you stepped back. Maybe it's the freshness of his divorce. Maybe it's the way Agent Calvert from the Portland office looked over your shoulder after you told him you weren't ready for dating again.

Whatever it was, you know you hated how it felt.

***

"There's a bomb on the ambulance."

Fear spikes through him as he turns around. "The ambulance which I drove in here." This day has already been longer than any of them expected it to be, but each passing minute seems to bring another surprise.

Rossi shoots him a knowing look that he reflects. "The hospital is their target."

He glances at you and you look back at him, your eyes filled with what he can only guess is fear. His mind flashes back to your interaction earlier, but he pushes it out of his brain as he realizes that they are down a man. "Where did Morgan go?"

Emily turns back. "He went to find the ambulance."

"Alone?" you gape at her, reaching for the gun in your holster.

He figures they only have a few minutes before the cell signal returns, so he grabs his own gun and nods. "Let's head down."

The ambulance is gone when they find the bomber in the parking garage, holding a knife to his throat. Before any of you can approach him, he slits his own throat. He can't help the grimace of disgust that crosses his face as the terrorist falls to the ground.

Once the immediate danger to the hospital is alleviated, everyone starts to relax. The rest of the team stays behind to clear the scene as he sprints up to the seemingly empty surgical ward. He finds the operating room that Kate was supposed to be in, but when he pushes through the doors, all he sees is a few janitors mopping the blood off the floor.

"What happened?" he gasps out. "Where's the surgeon."

A man in a blue scrub cap comes forward and pats his shoulder, a resigned look on his face. "We did all that we could. I'm so sorry."

All of the momentum leaves his body as he releases his breath, his shoulders deflating along with it like a circus balloon. The surgeon leaves the room and he looks down at her blood seeping down the floor drain. He watches as it mixes in with the cleaning fluids, and he can't help but wish that her death could've been less painful.

***

You wait outside the hotel the next morning, your go-bag hanging heavily off your shoulder. When the doctors told Hotch he wasn't cleared to fly yet, you told the NY agent assigned to drive him that you could take over.

"What are you still doing here?"

You turn around to see Hotch walking out of the hotel, the bag in his left hand evening out his gait after the explosion gave him a temporary limp.

You smile, pushing your sunglasses down from your head. "I'm your ride."

His eyes twinkle in the bright sunlight. "You really didn't have to. The flight is much quicker."

"It's okay," you shrug, before grinning. "Besides, I would never pass up an opportunity to annoy you for three hours."

That makes him laugh, before he winces slightly. Got it. No jokes.

He doesn't complain as you take the driver's seat, and that's when it hits you how much pain he must be in. For as long as he's had his license, he has preferred to be the one driving, sometimes even when he's in your car.

The first few minutes of the drive are quiet, but eventually you need to fill the silence. "I'm really sorry about Kate."

"Thank you," he sighs, his eyes squinting at the sun as you pull onto the highway. "I've known her for a long time." He exhales sharply. "Knew her."

You remember him telling you about a case he worked, years ago, that took him to Scotland Yard. He had sounded almost excited as he recounted the differences in how the British government handled procedure, but he had kept one thing to himself.

"You never told me about her," you say gently, trying to keep the blame out of your voice. You're not angry, you just don't understand why it would have been a secret.

He turns his head to gaze out the window for a few moments, before he looks back at you. "I wasn't sure about how that case would go when I agreed to take a look, but we ended up working really well together. I had spoken to her a few times before, mostly over the phone, but it was our first time meeting in person. We caught the guy we were looking for in just a few days, so before I left, she invited me to join her team for dinner."

You can guess where this is going, but you let him finish, in case you're wrong.

"When she dropped me off at my hotel that night, she made a... suggestive remark that I would've ignored if the implication hadn't been so clear. I shut it down immediately, but I didn't tell Haley when I got back, and I guess I just felt so guilty about it that I couldn't bring myself to tell you either."

Hotch feeling guilty about something. There's a shocker.

You glance over at him with a small smile. "I get it."

The "Welcome to New Jersey" sign flies past as you cross the bridge, and you both sit in comfortable silence as the sun glints off the water and reflects onto the cars around you. You see him looking out the window, and you wonder if he's thinking about Haley again, but then he turns to you with a curious expression. "The unit chief job here is yours if you want it."

Do you want it? You know you like leadership, and you would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about the possibility of moving up the ladder at some point, but now that you're confronted with the opportunity, it doesn't feel how you thought it would.

The thought of leaving this team, when they've become your second family, tastes bitter on your tongue. You know you could assume that other teams are like this too, but when you actually try to picture it, it doesn't feel possible.

"You can think about it," he says after a minute, "but not for long. They need a replacement ASAP."

You glance over at him and a realization clicks in your brain. "Wait, they needed your recommendation before offering me the position, didn't they?" You crack a smile. "You tryna get rid of me, boss?"

He laughs, before it turns into a small grimace from the pain. "No, of course I don't want you to leave. I just know you're destined for more than this. You could be doing so much good work, leading your own team."

The sun peeks out from behind the buildings in front of you, and you reach up to pull down the sun visor. "Maybe one day. But not today."

His eyes flit over to meet yours and you share a smile before you turn back to the wide expanse of road ahead of you.

***

You've been watching him all day. He was cleared to fly again, but you saw how pained he looked when the jet took off, and again when they exhumed Cortland's grave. The way he's been flinching back at the slightest sound, and cowering in pain after the louder screeches.

You tighten the strap of your kevlar vest and glance over at him again as he whispers something to the local sheriff on the Angel Maker copycat case. You've cornered the unsub in the latest victim's house, and Morgan got her out before she could be killed, but Emily continues to speak to the unsub through her megaphone, coaxing her out and into custody.

"It's over, Chloe," she says calmly as Morgan deposits the woman into the awaiting ambulance. "We have Faye. You have nowhere to go."

After a few moments, the front door creaks open and everyone lifts their weapons. She looks surprised when she sees the dozens of guns pointing at her, but then she lifts her own and Hotch steps in.

"Chloe, drop the gun."

The sheriff, with much less composure, jabs his weapon forward. "Damn it, lady, drop it!"

She takes a step forward and the sheriff fires, taking her down in one shot. Hotch goes down at the same time, doubling over in pain, his hands going up to cover his ears as he lets out a low groan.

As everyone else goes to Chloe, you rush to him, lifting your hands to press them over his in an attempt to help him hide from the external chatter and noises. "Aaron, it's okay, you're gonna be okay."

His body folds into yours as you wrap your arms around his head, clutching him to you, unable to help. "It's okay, it's okay."

It takes a few seconds for him to relax in your arms, and then a few more for him to remove his hands from his ears and stand up straight again.

"I'm okay," he sighs, his brow still furrowed with tension. "Thank you."

"Of course," you whisper, your chest heaving as the stress slowly seeps from your body. "You're not flying home."

He takes a deep breath before slowly dipping his chin into a nod. "It's a much longer drive. You don't have to accompany me this time."

The corner of your lip quirks up. "What makes you think I was offering?"

"Okay," he chuffs, rolling his eyes. You can still see the image of him doubling over in pain splashed across your eyelids, but you manage to push it out of your mind long enough to return his smile.

***

"Stand!"

You look up from the young girl you were interviewing with Emily and Spencer as Cyrus storms into the room with a gun, his second in command hot on his heels.

"What's going on?" Emily asks as she and Nancy Lunde, the state officer you came onto the cult compound with, stand up and approach him.

He squints, scrutinizing each of you. "We just got A very strange phone call from a news reporter. Is there anything you want to tell me, about a raid, maybe?"

You frown, genuine confusion coloring your expression as you shake your head. "We told you, we're child victim interview experts."

He takes another moment to consider your answer before nodding and instructing the man with him to lead you to the tunnels for safety while the raid continues.

You let Spencer, Emily and Nancy go ahead of you as the sounds of gunfire from the back get louder. When you reach the tunnels, they head further in to help the children take cover as Nancy turns back and gives you an earnest look. "I can talk to him."

You're shaking your head before she's done speaking. "No, you can't. It's too dangerous."

You try to grab her arm, but she rushes forward and past the small crowd of children that safely made it out of the school. You run after her as she calls out, "Mr. Cyrus, let me talk to them."

She's too close to the window. You reach forward to grab her arm and pull her back but then another round of gunshots fires off and she drops to the ground in front of you. You start to crouch down, out of the line of sight of the window, when a searing pain shoots through your abdomen. You keel over, falling forward into the wall of the chapel as you gasp out in pain.

It doesn't hurt as bad as it probably should, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins won't last forever. You press your hands against the bullet wound that ripped through the side of your abdomen, and try to calm your breathing as fear washes over you. The team knows you three are in here, they'll figure out how to get you all out.

You know the minimal loss scenario by heart, and the BAU was the one who wrote the CIRG playbook, so it's a small comfort to know that you'll be able to predict their moves. You can only hope that they will be able to predict yours just as well.

Another wave of pain shoots through your side and you grit your teeth as the adrenaline starts to wear off. They better hurry.

***

He knows he's emotionally involved. They all are, but if his people aren't the ones leading this negotiation, he won't be able to forgive himself for any outcome that doesn't end with the three of you coming out in one piece.

He's listening in as Dave speaks with Cyrus, and he can't help but notice how cavalier his tone is after his followers were just shot at. He continues to rant about the final battle he has foreseen, until Dave manages to get him back on track.

"Now, the four child services workers..." he says slowly. Hotch can hear the concern coloring his tone even as he tries to act detached.

Cyrus's voice is crisp over the line. "One of them is dead."

His heart jumps to his throat. Your face flashes in his mind and he closes his eyes as he silently begs whoever is out there for it not to be you. Not you, not Prentiss, not Reid. Please.

"Her name was Nancy Lunde."

His breath comes out like a gasp, and Dave turns to him with an equally relieved expression. He's so thankful that the guilt for wishing harm on anyone takes an extra second to take over.

But Cyrus isn't finished talking. "One of the other child service workers was shot during the same raid. Once again, by your people."

He looks up at Dave, waiting for him to ask who it was, but he doesn't have to. The next word out of Cyrus's mouth is your name, and his stomach twists with nausea and anguish even as he assures Dave that your wound has been cleaned and properly dressed.

He turns to look at the compound, as though he could see you if he squinted hard enough. Hold on, he thinks, hoping you can hear him somehow. You've always had a way of reading his mind. Please hold on.

***

You wake up on a small cot, with a woman bent over you. You hiss as she presses down the edge of the bandage on your abdomen, and you bring your chin to your chest to see the current state of your gunshot wound.

You're surprised to see the blood washed off, a clean bandage and gauze left in its place.

"You got lucky," the woman says when she realizes you're awake. "The bullet went all the way through."

"Thank you," you whisper, before turning your head to look around the room. "Where are the people I came in with?"

"I'll take you to them," she nods, reaching her hand out. You take it and let out an involuntary groan as she helps you into a standing position. You try taking a step, but another spike of pain shoots through you, so the woman latches her arm under your shoulder to help you walk.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually you get back to the main chapel, where Emily and Spencer are sitting with the rest of the followers. They turn when the doors open in front of you, and they immediately jump out of their chairs to take over for the woman helping you.

"How are you feeling?" Spencer asks, his eyebrows pinching as he looks at you.

"I'm okay," you assure him, even as your vision blurs from the pain of having to walk so far. "Can we just sit down, though?"

"Of course," Emily nods, helping you sink into a chair. "I'll get you some water."

Spencer sits down next to you when she rushes off, and you don't miss how he keeps glancing down at your stomach.

"It'll be okay, Spence." He meets your eye and you nod again. "We know the playbook. We just have to follow it."

Emily returns with a water bottle that she opens and hands to you, and you chug half of it before setting it down. Hotch, please hurry, you think, wishing he could hear you.

***

The next morning, you wake up to a knock on the front door of the compound. You peel your eyes open and try to sit up, before remembering what happened the night before. Your skin feels wet as you run your fingers against the edge of the gauze, and you look down to see that you're bleeding through the dressings.

"Emily," you whisper, pushing her shoulder gently to shake her awake. "I need you to get the first aid kit again."

You feel more blood drip down your stomach, and your vision turns hazy for a moment, like a confirmation. She walks across the room to get the kit, and you almost forget about the knock on the door, until Cyrus opens it, revealing a stone-faced Rossi.

They shake hands as Emily removes your dressings before tearing open a new packet of gauze and pressing it into your wound.

"The children," Cyrus tells him, gesturing to the crowd. He then points at the three of you. "And our guests."

Rossi meets your eyes for a split second, and you make sure to keep your expression neutral as he nods and turns back to Cyrus. You're glad it's him who came inside, and not Hotch, because even though you want nothing more than to see him right now, you also don't want him to see you like this.

Rossi tries to get him to release the children, but he ends up leaving with nothing more than a promise to send food and supplies.

***

"Prentiss, Reid, and L/N are okay," Dave says as he jogs back to the tent outside. He turns to Hotch then. "She's been shot in the abdomen. They've tried to dress her wound, but she's losing blood."

Shit. He shuts his eyes as he tries to think about what he can do from out here to speed up the playbook.

"I have a signal!" Morgan beckons them over as he lifts a few sets of headphones for them to wear. With the bug Dave left on the compound, at least they have ears on the inside. It's not all he wants, but it's something, at least.

***

"Which one of you is it?"

Cyrus storms into the basement, where Spencer and Emily are sitting next to you as you lay down on the small cot from earlier. After Emily changed your bandages, Spencer managed to convince him to let you rest away from the followers.

"Which one of you is the FBI agent?"

Spencer jumps in before you can react. "Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?"

You haven't had the time or capacity to properly profile this man yet, so you don't know if his evasive tactic will work, but you also know he's smart enough to have thought this through.

Cyrus sighs, almost like he's disappointed. "God will forgive me for what I must do." He steps forward and points his gun at Spencer's head. You gasp, trying to keep a look of confusion on your face as you fight the urge to step in.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Spencer says, stumbling over his words. His eyes are wide with fear, and you can't tell how much of it is real and how much is for show.

Cyrus tuts. "One of you does. Who is it?"

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract him, but then Emily stands up. "Me. It's me."

The moment of relief you feel when he lifts his gun from Spencer's head is gone as soon as he grabs Emily by the hair and drags her to the door. Your legs burn with the desire to leap off the cot and tackle him to the ground, but you can't move as the door shuts behind them.

***

It's almost night fall by the time Emily joins you again. You and Spencer were moved back up to the chapel after Cyrus took her away, and seeing her now, she looks awful.

Splotchy bruises of purple and blue paint her neck and chest, and there's dried blood on her temple and the corner of her mouth.

"Emily," you gasp, trying to control your expression so that Cyrus and his diehard followers don't think you know her as well as you do. You hate the feeling of letting her take the brunt of his punishment and blame, but it won't help to expose yourselves as agents too.

Spencer leans over you to get a better look at her. "Are you okay?"

She nods, flashing him a small smile. "Yeah, it looks worse than it feels." You can't imagine she's seen her reflection today, but you still appreciate her trying to relieve his stress.

Right then, the front door opens again and a shipment of food containers are carried inside. Men lift the boxes and bring them around the room to feed everyone inside, and when they set a box in front of you three, you notice a familiar scrawl of handwriting on top of the to-go container. 3AM. They're coming in at 3AM.

***

When the followers leave to go to bed, Cyrus takes Emily away again to separate her from you and the others. You fight the exhaustion pulling your eyes shut as you sit on the floor with your back against the wall. Spencer has been talking to Cyrus's second in command, trying to convince him that the Bible can be used to manipulate anything, but Cyrus catches on quickly.

You keep glancing at the door, hoping that Emily will find her way back up before 3AM hits, but as each minute ticks by, the idea becomes more futile.

You saw the diehard followers rigging the compound with explosives earlier in the night, and the detonator is clutched in Cyrus's hand like a lifeline. The irony doesn't escape you.

"Something's wrong," the follower reports, his eyes scanning the darkness outside through the window of the chapel.

Cyrus walks over to check, and you use the moment of distraction to lift the edge of your shirt and check your bandages. You're starting to bleed through the gauze again, but it's not bad enough that you need your dressings changed just yet.

When Cyrus realizes that he's been lied to, Spencer tries to distract him by spouting off verses at a rapid pace, but Cyrus just rams the butt of his rifle into his head, sending him to the ground.

"You cannot convert my brothers," Cyrus says before hitting him again. You crawl over to him, ignoring the screaming pain in your side, and clutch his arm for some semblance of comfort. Cyrus looks down at the both of you, his eyes squinting. "No one had to follow. God could have stopped me."

"He just did."

There's a gunshot, and you whip your head around to see Morgan and a young girl racing out of the tunnel before he crouches beside you. "You two alright?"

You nod, reaching your arm up to let him help you into a standing position. "Where's Emily?"

"We got her out of here," he explains, before turning to the girl. "Sweetheart, come with me."

She looks at each of you, her face twisted with panic, before bending down and picking up the detonator from where Cyrus dropped it. Your eyes widen and you yank Spencer in front of you before pushing him down the tunnel. "Run!"

Derek wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding half of your weight as you both sprint down the tunnel after Spencer. You're almost outside when the explosion goes off, pushing you to your knees with a strong gust of air and smoke.

***

He yells out your name as the blast engulfs the compound. His throat feels ragged as he yells out for Reid and Morgan too, but he can't see anything until three figures stand up from the plume of smoke and stumble down the steps.

He rushes up, meeting you halfway as you collapse from Morgan's arms into his. He grabs onto you as your knees buckle, and he manages to pull you towards him before you hit the ground.

He can't breathe as he clutches you to him, trying to be mindful of your wounds. Your breath comes out in gasps that mix in with his own as he sags with relief that you're here, back in his arms, where he can keep you safe.

He pulls back when he sees the paramedics approaching, and it's only then that he finally gets a good look at you. Your skin is gaunt, and his heart thuds loudly in his ears as he sees you wince in pain.

When they load you into an ambulance, his feet finally start working again and he races after you. "I'm coming with you."

You nod as he climbs through the doors and you reach your hand out over the side of the gurney. Your fingers feel cold when he clasps your hand in his, and he syncs his breaths with the sound of the sirens as your eyes fall closed.

***

The first thought that goes through your head when you wake up is that it's too bright. You squint as your eyes peel open, and in the few moments it takes for them to adjust to the light, a chorus of quiet 'she's awake's filter around the hospital room.

"How are you feeling?" JJ asks, stepping closer to stand at your bedside.

"You gave us a real scare, Mama," Penelope adds with a gentle smile.

You open your mouth to respond, but your throat is so dry, no sound comes out. Emily darts forward to grab the cup of water on the counter, and you glance over to see the yellowing bruises on her cheekbones.

After a few sips, you clear your throat and say, "I'm good. How long was I out?"

"Just a day," Derek responds from the foot of your bed, where he's standing with Spencer and Penelope.

Spencer chimes in. "You got out of surgery a few hours ago, and the doctors said you can go home tomorrow morning."

You nod slowly, stretching out your arms and legs to test the limits of your mobility. When you push yourself up into a sitting position, it doesn't hurt as much as it did on the compound.

"Ah, you're awake," Rossi smiles as he joins you all in the hospital room. It's not exactly huge, so everyone has to stand to make room, but it still doesn't escape your notice that someone is missing.

You return Rossi's smile before glancing over at the door, trying to see if he's just outside. Noticing your gaze, Spencer walks forward and takes your hand, giving it a small squeeze. "He's on the phone with your father. I think he got a flight for tomorrow morning."

You exhale slowly and take another sip of water. "Thank you." He nods and moves to release your hand, but you grip it tighter, holding him back. "Seriously, Spence, thank you." You turn to Emily, who is on the other side and her eyes shine, reflecting the tears in yours. "That whole operation sucked, but I'm really glad you two were in there with me."

She lets out a watery laugh and bends down to press an kiss to your temple. "I'm glad you're okay."

When you start fading again, the team leaves with promises to see you back at work in a month, and you close your eyes to get a break from the harsh fluorescent lighting.

***

"Alright," he says into his phone, nodding. "We'll see you in the morning, Mr. L/N. Yes, she's doing a lot better...okay, good, see you soon."

He ends the call and tucks his phone back into his pocket, before walking over to the vending machine at the end of the hall to grab a few of your favorite snacks. He loads up on chips and pop tarts before heading back up the hallway to your room. When he reaches the door, he realizes that the rest of the team has left, so he steps inside quietly and takes a seat in the small plastic chair next to your bed, before gently setting the snacks on your bedside table.

Your eyes are closed and he figures you must have just fallen asleep, so he crosses his arms over his chest and just sits there, watching you. Your face is covered in little scrapes from the explosion, and you still look a bit ashy, but you somehow still do look beautiful. This isn't the first time he has thought this - it was more of a recurrent notion when you were younger - but he can't deny that you're just objectively a beautiful person. But then again, he's not sure if beauty is ever really objective (eye of the beholder and all that), so he pushes the thought aside and turns back to you.

His thoughts are interrupted when his phone chirps with a text message. Pulling it out of his pocket, he checks the name and sees that Haley has arrived at the hospital. He had called her after you went into surgery, knowing that she would kill him if he didn't keep her constantly updated on your condition.

When he finds her at the end of the hall, she pulls him into a quick side hug that's slightly barred by Jack, who is clutching onto her tightly. He can imagine how scary the hospital looks to a three year old boy.

"Hi, bud," he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, before looking at Haley again. "She's sleeping, but I'll take you to her room."

"She's alright, Aaron." Haley is looking at him like she's worried he may break down, and it makes him wonder what his expression looks like right now. Ever since you got out of surgery, he has felt a weight lifted off his chest, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know if he feels all that much lighter at all.

But he doesn't want to say any of that out loud. Nodding, he cocks his head at the other end of the hall and leads her to your room, where you are blinking your eyes open again.

"Oh, sweetheart," Haley coos, adjusting Jack on her hip and walking over to your bedside. "I hope we didn't wake you up?"

You shake your head with a smile, but he can tell you're lying. You look exhausted, and he can see you periodically glancing at the light on the ceiling to keep your eyes alert.

"Well, hello," you grin at Jack as you carefully push yourself up into a sitting position. "How's my little Jack-o-lantern doing?"

His mouth twitches and he reaches his arms out as he lets out a loud, "Good!" You reach forward slowly, likely testing the limits of your mobility, and take him from Haley, who hands him off with a concerned look on her face.

"Be careful, baby," she tells Jack, before stepping back and crossing her arms. "Aunt Y/N is a little fragile today."

To his credit, Jack just slumps down into your arms, absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair as you turn to Hotch. "Reid said you called my dad?"

He nods, taking a deep breath. "He'll be here in the morning. I assured him you were just fine, but he wants to stay here for a bit to keep an eye on you."

"That's okay," you shrug, much to his relief. After your last conversation about your father, he wasn't sure where you stood and how far he was allowed to push. "It'll be nice to have some company while I'm off for the next two weeks."

"Two months," he corrects with a stern look.

"One."

"Fine." The only reason he relents so quickly is because he knows how quickly he would be back at work if he was in your position. "But I'm limiting your field work until you're more healed."

You nod after a second. "I'll take it."

Haley huffs out a laugh and looks at him with an expression he remembers from their marriage. Affection with a hint of exasperation.

"Alright, you two," she smiles, reaching for Jack again. His entire fist is tangled in your hair at this point, but you don't seem to mind. "I should get him to bed. It's already past his bedtime."

You nod and hand him back, before letting her envelope you in a warm hug that you settle yourself into. "Love you, Hales. Thanks for coming by."

"Love you too, honey."

***

Haley leaves with Jack, and you slump down in the bed, feeling tired, but no longer sleepy.

"I can head out too," Hotch says quickly, reaching for his coat, "if you want to sleep."

You shake your head, and he drops his arm immediately, as though he was just looking for an excuse to stay. The thought makes you smile and his brow pinches in confusion. What's on your mind?

"I'm just glad I met you." You reach for his hand he takes it, giving it a soft squeeze, before taking a seat in the chair beside you.

"I brought you some snacks from the vending machine," he points out, glancing over at the pile he made on your table. "I got your favorites...at least out of what they had."

You grin, feeling your chest fill with warmth as you take in the assortment. "Sunchips and cinnamon pop tarts. You remembered."

"Of course," he shrugs. "You're the only person I know, other than my three year old son, who still eats pop tarts."

You make a face, swatting your hand at him, but he's just out of reach. "It's not my fault toddlers have great taste."

He chuckles as you tear open one of the packages and break off a piece. The buttery, sweet taste brings you back to your childhood when your mom was still alive. She would wake you up with two brown sugar cinnamon pop tarts before school, the sweet smell enough to drag you out of bed at eight in the morning.

"What are you thinking about?"

You look up with a smile, your gaze wistful as the memory slowly fades away. "My mom, actually. I don't have a ton of memories of her, but sometimes the most random thing will trigger an emotion or a memory that I forgot I had."

He nods, his eyes thoughtful. "Like the taste of pop tarts."

"Exactly." You break off another piece and toss it into your mouth, before setting the package back on the table. "Last week it was the smell of this perfume I found at the back of my dresser. It wasn't even the exact scent she would wear, it just had the same base notes."

Your voice trails off, and he looks at you, giving you a moment before speaking up. "What else do you remember?"

"I remember her funeral," you say without thinking, before realizing that it's not a lie. You know that grief is weird, that people usually remember everything or nothing, but for some reason, the funeral only comes back to you in pieces. Your dad crying silently, Hotch holding your hand, your dress being too small on you. You wore it anyway, because she had picked it out for you at the store a couple of years before. "I remember you holding me up."

His eyes flash with something that resembles amusement and he purses his lips. "I remember feeling the opposite. I knew I was supposed to be there for you, but somehow, it felt like you were the one holding both of us up that day."

You shrug, realizing the details don't mean anything. "All I really needed was for someone to hold onto."

He nods and that's when your mind flashes back to New York last month. "Did you go to Kate's funeral?"

"No," he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "Her family flew her back to London to have it there, and I couldn't take any time off."

You want to apologize, but before you can open your mouth, he beats you to it. "I'm sorry for how I acted in New York."

You frown, but he just shakes his head. "I don't really know why I was trying so hard to protect her. I guess after the close call with Strauss last year, I was less sympathetic to bureau politics, but I still shouldn't have taken it out on you. I should've been protecting you too."

His words are tinged with self-contempt, and you find yourself wanting to take away his guilt even though you were hurt by how he treated you during that case. But that's how the two of you work. The protective instincts don't go away just because one of you is angry at the other.

You remember prom night all those years ago, when he was so peeved at you for convincing him to ask Haley to the dance, even though they had just started talking. She had freaked out and said no, so he was forced to take another girl who asked him after the fact (of which there were many), while you went with Kyle Martinez, who had been showing interest in you for a while. You knew your feelings for Hotch definitely weren't just platonic anymore, but he was into Haley, and he was also Hotch, so you had pushed it aside and gone to the prom with Kyle.

You had spotted Hotch the moment he walked into the ballroom that the school had turned into a Gatsby-themed prom venue. He commanded everyone's attention, and you certainly weren't immune, but you had your own date, so you ignored your best friend and danced with Kyle.

As the night wore on, he had grown bored and asked you if you wanted to get out of there and go somewhere quiet, but you weren't exactly experienced back then.

"I'm okay," you had whispered, trying to maintain your smile. "I'd rather just stay at the dance."

You can still remember the change in his expression when he saw you glance at Hotch, as though it was just yesterday. "What, are you into him or something? You seriously think he'd fuck you?"

You hadn't been able to help it as tears flooded your eyes, and before you knew it, Hotch was standing in front of you, glaring down your date as he asked if you were okay.

"Everything's fine," Kyle had sneered, trying to get around him. "Butt out of our business, Hotch."

He looked at you again. Do you want me to go?

You shook your head, a tear falling down your cheek, and before you had time to blink, his fist was swinging. There was a horrible thump as his fist collided with Kyle's cheekbone, sending him stumbling backwards from the force of the hit.

You couldn't move as Kyle swung back, trying to shove him down, but he didn't budge. He could take physical aggression better than most guys his age, but that didn't make this okay.

"Hotch, please," you had pleaded as he landed another punch. The sound of your voice must had cut through the fog, because he looked up then, unaware of the bruises on his knuckles. You helped him up, and the two of you watched as his date stormed out of the ballroom.

Presently, you look at him sitting in his chair and crack a small smile. "Do you remember prom night?"

He groans and you laugh lightly, being careful not to tear the stitches in your side.

"You never actually told me what that asshole did to you." His tone is light, but you can hear the genuine question underneath.

"It was so long ago," you shrug after a beat. "I don't even remember."

***

Your dad arrives at the hospital early the next morning right before you're discharged. The papers are quick, and by the time the sun has risen fully, you are being taken to his car in a wheelchair, despite your best efforts to refuse.

"I can walk!"

"I don't care."

"Dad, come on."

He frowns down at you. "I drove up here to be of use to you. Let me be of use."

You huff in frustration as he wheels you beside his car, and you try to get up on your own, but you twist the wrong way. You gasp out in pain as one of your stitches pulls and your dad immediately comes around to assist you.

"I hate your job," he grumbles, taking your arm to help you into the passenger seat. "If I had my way, you'd be working out of an office cubicle."

"I know, Dad," you soothe, turning your head back to smile at him. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, sweetie."

The drive to your house is quick, and he takes your arm again when you get out to help you inside. Once you're laying down on the couch, you insist that you don't need any more concessions, but he doesn't sit down in your armchair until after he has brought you a glass of water and a blanket.

"Dad, I'm fine, really." He doesn't look convinced, so you paste on your brightest smile, and he finally cracks, smiling back at you. "What do you want to do today?" you ask him.

"Wha- do today?" he sputters. "You need to rest, young lady. I'm not letting you leave this couch until you head up for bed tonight."

You can tell he's serious about this, so you sink back into your pillows with a sigh and grab the tv remote. "What do you want to watch then?"

He leans back in his armchair and brings his palm to his face: his thinking expression. "What's on?"

You click on the television, and the first channel it opens up to is playing a rerun of Breaking Bad. Neither of you seem interested in watching it, so you keep flipping through the channels, but after 20 minutes of mindless surfing, you eventually end up back on Breaking Bad.

"We could just play it in the background," you suggest with a shrug, "while we talk."

"Sure," he agrees, placing his hands on each armrest.

Two hours later, your eyes are glued to the television after having watched three episodes.

"We should probably do something else," Dad suggests at the next ad break. "All of this meth production is rotting my brain."

"Yeah," you agree, taking your time to reach for the remote before clicking the tv off and tossing the remote aside. "We can have lunch in the kitchen..."

"Nice try," he chuckles, before standing up. "Aaron is coming by with takeout soon, and you can eat that right from here."

He had been coming by a lot after your movie night a few months ago, and while hanging out with your best friend isn't an anomaly, it does reinforce the reminder that neither of you have anyone to go home to at the end of the night.

It's another half hour by the time he shows up, Thai takeout in hand, and by then you're starving.

"Thanks for bringing food," you say genuinely after your dad lets him inside the house. "I was worried I would have to live off Dad's cooking for a week."

"Very funny," he says with an eye roll. "But yes, thank you, Aaron."

"Of course," Hotch says simply, before handing your dad a fork and napkin. "I'm also hoping to convince Y/N to take more time off."

"Not fair!" you complain, feeling like you're reverting to your high school self with your dad and best friend sitting across from you. "I'm not starting field work for a couple of months. I just want to come in soon to meet the new press liaison."

"Is JJ leaving?" Dad asks as he takes a bite of green curry with rice.

"Just temporarily," Hotch says, reaching for the pad kee mao container. You nod, chiming in, "She's due in a couple of months, so she's gonna start training someone soon to take over while she's gone."

"Is she still with that cop from...where was it again?"

"New Orleans," you answer with a laugh. "Yeah, she and Will are still together."

You can feel the conversation getting dangerously close to (ex) spouses, so you steer your father away from the topic by having him try all of the food Hotch brought. He ends up staying for a couple of hours as he explains some of the more tame cases you've handled to your dad, who actually seems interested in the finer details of each profile.

Eventually, he heads home, with the explanation that he has Jack that night, and you say good night to your dad before heading up for bed. You cover the stitches with plastic the way the doctors instructed you to before taking a fast shower and getting into your bed.

You can hear the sound of your father's quiet snores from the guest room down the hall, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine that you're back in your childhood home, sleeping in your pink and purple bedroom after spending the day with your best friend.

***

It takes a lot of convincing, but at the end of the month, your dad drops you off at work before making his drive back home. Emily had called you before the team's plane took off, and you timed it right so that you'd get to the office just as they arrived.

The elevator doors open on your floor, and you hear a loud conversation happening between Morgan and Prentiss just before they spot you from the bullpen.

"Y/N!" Emily grins, rushing forward to give you a hug. "How's the healing process been?"

"I feel a lot better," you tell her with a smile as you pull back and drop your bag next to your desk.

"You look a lot better," she nods, before Derek grabs you and pulls you in for a surprisingly gentle bear hug.

"You look great," he says, grinning at you. "Are you cleared to come back to work?"

"Not field work," you sigh, pushing your hair back behind your ear. "I'm just here to turn in some paperwork and then I'm stuck to my desk for a few more weeks."

Derek takes the files from your hand and tosses them on your desk before throwing an arm around your shoulder. "You should come out and get burgers with Prentiss and me."

"Tempting," you say, "but I just came by to meet-"

"Hey guys," JJ calls out from the hallway. "I want to introduce you to someone."

She walks up to you all with another woman by her side. "This is Agent Jordan Todd. She'll be taking over for me while I'm on maternity leave."

You grin, clasping your hands together in front of you as she smiles sheepishly at all of you. "Agent Jareau's told me so much about you all."

She turns to Emily first. "You must be Agent Prentiss."

"Yes," she smiles, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Spencer walks up at that moment and Agent Todd nods at him. "Hello, Dr. Reid."

He waves back, and she then looks at you. You reach out first to shake her hand and she smiles. "Agent L/N, I presume?" When you nod, she takes your hand. "I heard about the cult incident."

"Yeah," you let out a laugh. "Incident is definitely a word for it."

Derek drops his arm from your shoulder and Jordan turns to him with a cheeky grin that piques your interest. "And Agent Morgan. Nice to see you again."

He nods, not giving anything away. "Nice to see you, too. So, this must be the good news."

"This would be my brownie."

Emily frowns, pointing between the two of then. "Uh, you two have met?"

Derek doesn't turn away from her. "Briefly."

JJ shoots him a look before steering Jordan away to meet the rest of the team, and you and Emily turn to Derek with matching expressions. "What was that about?"

"I met her at a coffee shop this morning," he explains, rubbing a hand over his face. "She knew my name then, and I guess this is how."

"JJ's about to pop," Emily says, glancing at you with a small smirk. "Looks like it's about to get interesting at the BAU."

***

Your first case back in the field takes you to Atlanta, where Vanessa Holden was murdered after going home with a man she met on a night out clubbing. Jordan briefs you all on the details back in the office before you get on the plane.

You're still not used to JJ being gone, and you heard all about Jordan's drive from Hotch when he came by your house with dinner periodically over your bureau-mandated leave, but you don't want to make any judgments before getting to know her yourself.

You sit across from Hotch on the plane, and you don't miss the way his eyes follow each of your movements from the second you sit down. Your bandages are still on, but you've regained almost all of your mobility.

As the jet takes off, you lean forward slightly to adjust the back of your blazer, and his gaze shoots to you, his brow furrowing with concern.

You flash your eyes at him, cutting the tension with a small smirk. I'm fine, I promise.

He squints slightly, scrutinizing your expression for a moment, before letting out an inscrutable sigh and turning back to the case file.

When you land in Atlanta, you start off at the police department with Hotch, Morgan, and Todd, and her continued insistence on being the first to meet with the local officials and debrief them surprises you, given JJ's more subtle nature when working with those who call your team in.

The local police let you know that the Holden family has stopped cooperating with their investigation, but the four of you head over to their home to try and speak with her mother and sister one last time. Jordan gets you in the house by sharing a story about her older sister who passed away, and you find yourself feeling awful about your misjudgment of her, until you notice the look of Hotch's face.

"Did you know that about Jordan?" you ask, trying to understand why he looks so miffed.

"No," he says simply, his brow pinched together, "and neither did she. According to her file, she's an only child."

You flash your eyes at Derek.

The conversation gets you a basic profile of the unsub, based on the cocky way he held himself with Vanessa and the way he was dressed when approaching her at the club, but when the moment you exit her home, Hotch corners Jordan on the driveway.

"The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister," he fumes. "Where did you get that?"

She has the gall not to look ashamed, and you can't decide if you respect her resolve or detest her lack of responsibility. "Some of it was online, and some of it was an educated guess based on birth order."

"A guess."

You practically wince and Derek stares at her, as though trying to hypnotically get her to backtrack.

She looks down then, and he delivers the kicker. "And in the process you lied."

You step forward to insert yourself in the conversation (for what purpose, you don't yet know), but Jordan just stands up straighter, ready to defend herself. "That mother was shut down. I needed to salvage some rapport."

Hotch doesn't back down, and as his brow locks into place, you step back again. "I don't know how you did things in counter-terrorism, but we don't make it a habit to lie to get the job done."

"I got you in the door, didn't I?" she spits out one last time. It's both, you realize. Respect and distaste.

"Not only do you represent the FBI, you represent this team."

He shakes his head, and you cock your head at Derek, gesturing for him to head back to the car. You hear the tail end of their conversation as you yank open the passenger side door.

"From now on, everything goes through me."

Jordan gets saved by the literal bell as his phone rings, and when he steps away to answer it, she comes back to the SUV and gets in the back. "So, how bad did I just screw up?"

Derek heaves out a sigh, looking at her with his characteristic stoicism mixed with compassion. "On a normal scale of one to ten, I'd say a six."

He glances at you and you press your lips together. "But on Hotch's scale...an 11."

She rubs a hand over her face and you turn back to face the front, watching as Hotch paces back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear. He doesn't look up until he's back in the SUV.

***

The profile becomes clear when a new victim emerges: an unsub with a possible scar or birthmark above his left eye, who went to a class for pickup artists. After doing some researching with Garcia, Emily returns with a flyer for a man named Viper that makes your stomach twist.

You, Morgan, and Hotch join her at one of his classes later that day, and it takes everything in you not to sneer in disgust as he describes his approach to meeting women.

"This is the jungle, my friends," Viper finishes off, lifting his hands in the air theatrically, "and your prey wants to be caught."

You and Hotch share a look, and he raises his eyebrows as you cringe. What, not a fan?

You shove his shoulder with yours, but it's not hard enough to actually make him budge. Hilarious.

"Will you listen to that language?" Emily whispers from next to you. "He's training serial killers."

"Great," Derek sighs. "We're dealing with a rampant narcissist and misogynist who's turned himself into a snake oil salesman."

Hotch nods. "That's one more thing he has in common with our unsub."

The class ends soon after, and you get the distinct pleasure of meeting Viper in the flesh. When he approaches the four of you, he makes a clear effort to keep eye contact with only the men, likely trying to use his self-prescribed techniques to make you and Emily feel vulnerable. Instead, it just makes you want to laugh in his face.

"So you think this- what did you call him- unsub, took my class?"

He raises his eyebrows at Emily then, in what you can only hope is meant to be a seductive nature, and she practically snorts. Using his clear attraction to her to the team's advantage, she steps forward and takes control of the conversation. By the time she's finished, she has managed to secure his location for later tonight, and get him just flustered enough that a chance meeting later would have him ready to divulge anything she wants to hear.

'Please tell me we are not giving up on that guy." Emily heaves out a breath as you all walk back outside after speaking with Viper. She was just talking to him, but she looks like she's ready to take another shower.

Hotch flashes his eyes with uncharacteristic mirth. "We're just getting started."

***

His eyes keep darting back to the door of the locker room. Prentiss is going undercover at Club Aqua to get more information about the unsub from Viper, and when she suggested that you and Agent Todd join her, he couldn't think of a good enough reason to quash her idea.

He knows he's been hard on Todd. He figured it out on his own, even with your furtive glances from the passenger side of the SUV after leaving the Holden household.

He wishes he could say it all came from a place of protecting bureau leadership, but he knows that isn't completely true. It's been almost two weeks since he last saw Jack, and every time he drops him back at Haley's, that feeling settles back in his gut, like clockwork. The feeling that tells him he's just like his father.

The locker room door flies open and he averts his eyes, trying to maintain some level of subtlety, but it's only Prentiss and Todd. Where are you?

His unspoken question is answered when Prentiss announces that you told them to get started without you. He's still worried that you're not ready for this kind of assignment so early in your return to field work, so, before he can regret it, he stalks forward and pushes open the door.

The regret immediately comes when he sees your bare back, underneath your unzipped dress, on the far end of the locker room.

"Oh, sorry," he blinks, turning his head back. "I didn't realize-"

He moves to shut the door again, but you look over your shoulder and raise your hand, beckoning him inside. "Wait, I could actually use your help."

He steps through the door and crosses over to you, where you turn your back to him after a small glance. "Zip me up?"

The bottom of the zipper is at the small of your back, and he tries to avoid touching you as he pulls it up to the base of your shoulder blades. He isn't able to avoid it completely, and he tries to ignore the heat of your skin as he drops the zipper and nods. "All set."

You turn around and he forgets to step back in time, leaving you only a few inches from him as you glance up with a confused smile. "You okay?"

He nods again, stepping back and clearing his throat. Why is his skin burning? "I should be asking you that. Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm getting the bandages taken off later this week," you tell him, partly misunderstanding his concern. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."

That's definitely a lie, but he allows it for now. "That's not all I'm talking about. You haven't been in the field in months. I just worry that I'm tossing you into the deep end on your first day back."

"I'm fine," you insist, reaching out to put your hand on his forearm. "I would have refused the assignment if I didn't think I could handle it."

He's not sure if he believes that either, but in this case, the assignment itself seems odious enough that he can let it slide. "Okay. Are you ready to head out there?"

"Yeah, just one second."

He waits as you pull a thin necklace from your bag and clasp it around your neck. When it's attached, you spin around with a goofy smile. "How do I look?"

"Amazing," he says without thinking. "I mean- you look great, of course."

You just smile at him, before patting his shoulder and walking out the door to meet the Prentiss and Todd at the club. Your hair brushes past him as you leave, and the scent of your perfume lingers in the air behind you, a flowery aroma that persists even when the door swings shut.

***

Emily waves at you when you approach her and Jordan in a crowded part of the club. "Y/N, I'm sure you remember Viper. God's gift to women."

You smile at him sweetly, before glancing at her. "Sure hope he came with a receipt."

"Another friend," Viper says, letting out a weak laugh.

Emily uses this moment of distraction to pounce. "You promised if I met you on your turf, you'd show me something special. So...let's see it."

He starts spouting off some nonsense about chemical signals, and you're about to take Jordan's arm and pull her aside to give Emily some room, when Viper turns to you with a mock-sincere expression. "Does the boss man you're out here, with me?"

You turn back with a frown. "Excuse me?"

For a moment, you forget to mask your emotions and he practically grins as his bravado grows. "What I do for a living is pretty similar to what you all do. I read people...and from what I could tell during your little ambush of my class earlier, there's something going on between you and the supervisor."

You let out a laugh that feels surprisingly forced as it leaves your throat. "I really can't believe there are people out there who pay you for assessments like that, because you're dead wrong."

He shrugs, looking back at Emily, and you roll your eyes at him before turning away under the guise of giving them some space. When you're out of his line of sight, you let out a breath that was caught in your chest. You know you and Hotch are closer than most friendships are at your age, and you're not unaccustomed to people reading more into it than there is, so you're not sure why Viper's words feel like a fist around your gut.

"Hey, you okay?" You turn back to see Jordan approaching you with a glass of water. "He's really trying everything to get under our skin."

You accept the glass gratefully, and swallow a few gulps, before nodding. "Thank you. I think I just needed some air. I forgot how stuffy these clubs get."

"I hear that." She laughs and you feel your chest loosen with relief that she didn't believe Viper's insinuation. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm almost excited to get back into my work clothes."

You let out a breathy chuckle, before sending her back to keep an eye on Emily as she works on breaking Viper. Later that night, when you get back to the station to meet up with the rest of the team, you excuse yourself early to head to the hotel, and you allow yourself to pretend, just this once, that you weren't avoiding him, and you really were just tired.

***

You're sitting in your car in front of the hospital at seven in the morning, because you didn't want to take any work off just to get your bandages removed. You know this is likely the exact sort of thing the bureau mandates time off for, but a small part of you didn't want anyone knowing you were coming here. Or maybe you just didn't want him to know.

You haven't been trying to avoid him. You may be a little embarrassed by how far under your skin Viper got with his one little comment, but you can't help it. The notion stirred something you don't recognize inside of you and you don't want to take the time to think through it.

You take a deep breath and get out of your car, before walking into the hospital and checking in for your appointment. When you called to secure a time slot, the nurse mentioned that, barring any complications, the appointment shouldn't take more than half an hour.

You're a few minutes early, so you sit in the waiting area, flipping through a fashion magazine from the table next to you. After a minute, you're so engrossed in a page about returning trends that you don't realize he is sitting next to you until he taps the side of your foot with his own.

"Oh shit," you blurt out when you see him, more out of surprise than the shame of being caught. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"Garcia saw it in your calendar and told me." You turn to look at him with mock-exasperation, but you're caught off guard by the genuine hurt in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me the appointment was today? I could've driven you."

You open your mouth to come up with an excuse, but all that comes out is, "I don't know." He doesn't look convinced, but the doctor calls your name then and you stand up, pressing your lips together. "Will you come with me?"

He stands up immediately, without another word, and you both follow the doctor into a back room, where she proceeds to remove your bandages and check where you are in the healing process. The wound is closed, and is almost entirely scarred over, but she recommends that you continue to take it easy - a point which you see Hotch take mental note of immediately - and limit excessive physical activity.

"The wound is healing very nicely," the doctor says as you walk back to the front. "Give me a call if anything changes, but as long as you keep applying the salve, there shouldn't be a permanent scar."

You thank her before she heads back to meet with another patient, and Hotch holds the front door open for you as you walk out into the parking lot.

"Thank you for coming," you tell him earnestly, "even though I didn't ask you to. I should've told you."

He exhales through his nose, bumping your shoulder. "Yeah, you should have."

He loops his arm through yours as you step off the curb and you lean your head on his shoulder for a second before unlocking your car. You were stupid to let Viper's words get to you. He's your best friend.

He's your best friend, and you love him.

***

One of the first happy memories at the office in a long time comes in the form of JJ coming in with baby Henry. It feels like a welcome relief to see her face back in the bullpen, and for a few peaceful moments, everything feels like it's back to normal.

You know firsthand how much this job takes from people, and Jordan's absence in the office now doesn't go unnoticed, even with a sweet baby boy here to take your mind off of it.

Is this my fault?

Rossi had tried to talk her down after discovering that the unsub had killed his entire family in their home, seemingly after her press release, but sometimes the words aren't enough.

I'm not sure I can do this job.

There had been so much anguish in her voice as she admitted to Rossi that she wasn't cut out for this line of work, but no part of you judged her for it. A bigger piece of you almost envied her ability to recognize that she was in over her head - that she couldn't keep going like this.

Looking at JJ now though, you feel a sense of hope again, like maybe this job doesn't take everything from you.

"I thought you could use a surprise," she smiles, cradling Henry in her arms under a swath of blankets.

"He's beautiful," you whisper, stepping in closer to get a better look at his little scrunched-up face.

Penelope comes back into the room with a freshly warmed up bottle of milk, and JJ starts to feed him as everyone leans closer in wonder. "I wanted us to have at least one good memory to hold onto in this room."

Before you can react, Derek is pushing past you and Spencer. "Excuse me, kid. Um, JJ, can I..."

He points to the bundle in her arms and she looks at him with a soft grin. "Of course."

She carefully transfers Henry into his arms as all of the women worriedly chime in with reminders and comments on his form.

"You gotta hold his head up."

"Careful, you're smothering him!"

"I got it," Derek chuffs, before rocking Henry in his arms. "Look at that, what's he doing? He's smiling at Derek Morgan."

Penelope and Emily share a look. "Gas."

He shoots them a pointed glare, before grabbing the bottle from Garcia's hand and feeding Henry himself. "Hey, little man."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face as you step back to give them some room. Your shoulder bumps into Hotch as you step around JJ, and you look back at him, noticing the little curve of his lips. "You're smiling."

He glances over at you with an eye roll. "Gas."

***

"What's up, Hotch?"

You roll over and turn your bedside lamp on as you press your cellphone to your ear. The alarm clock beside you says it's just past five in the morning.

"We have a case."

You frown, pushing yourself up. "Wouldn't JJ usually call us to come in?"

"This one's different." His voice sounds slightly muffled and his tone is colored by a familiar tinge of irritation. "Dallas AG called me last night to come down here, and it looks like they may have a serial."

"You went alone?" you ask, trying to blink the grogginess from your eyes as you get out of bed. You are distinctly aware of how many questions you're asking, but your brain is still fuzzy from being woken up.

"Yeah," he says simply, before you hear someone call his name from the other end of the line. "I convinced them to bring the team in as well. Anyway, I have to go, but I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, see you-" The line cuts and you sigh, tossing the phone down.

So much for a full night of rest.

***

Spencer briefs all of you on female serial killers on the flight over, and once you land, Hotch is waiting at the hotel. You drop your things off in your room and meet with him, Rossi, and Morgan to head over to the location of the latest crime scene, when another man is murdered.

"Victim was Joseph Fielding," Rossi explains when you enter the office building. "He was CFO here."

"Poisoned?" you clarify.

"And staged," Morgan adds, glancing over the body. This time, the victim was left out in the open, naked and tied up. There's no way the company can keep the media away from this one.

"Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?"

You turn around to see a man in a fancy suit stalking towards the four of you. You step back to let Hotch get around you, and he approaches the man with a frown. "I'm Hotchner."

"Larry Bartlett," he introduces himself. "I represent Mr. Fielding and Webster Industries."

Hotch angles himself to stand between the man and the body. "This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett."

"I spoke to Ellen Daniels," he explains, his eyes glinting with over-confidence. "She said you're a very reasonable man."

You resist the urge to snort as Hotch moves to get the attention of the police officers nearby. "Escort him out, please."

"No, wait! The press is outside, and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?"

This time it's you who frowns. "We're not about to lie for you."

"Don't have to lie," he says, gesturing with his hands as though that will help his case. "Just don't comment."

Hotch looks at him for a moment, before excusing himself and pulling the rest of you aside. "Is there any reason to go public yet?"

Rossi shrugs. "Validating her is exactly what she wants. If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake."

You almost smile. "He doesn't need to know that."

Hotch meets your eye for a beat before spinning around and putting his lawyer face back on. "We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails...everything."

***

When Penelope uncovers that the victims have all been withholding child support from their ex-wives, Hotch meets with the city's high-profile corporate lawyers to present the profile. You're not sure how helpful this will be, given that their primary motive is to protect their clients' companies, but it proves useful when one of the lawyers reveals that the unsub may have a penthouse to her name.

The apartment is massive. You walk around the living area, trying to find anything the unsub may have left out, but she has clearly been covering her tracks.

When you don't find anything by the bedroom, you head over to the walk-in closet where Derek and Emily are poking around her jewelry box.

"Hey, Prentiss," Derek suddenly says, lifting up a leather bodysuit and holding it in front of her. "Got a whip?"

Rolling your eyes, you smack the top of his head with the evidence baggy in your hands and walk back out to find Hotch. He's poring over her antique book collection when suddenly the apartment phone starts to ring.

You all argue for a few moments over who should take the call, and Derek quickly alerts Garcia to trap-and-trace it, before it soon goes to voicemail.

"Hi, it's me," the woman's voice says brightly in the voicemail message. "You know what to do." There's a beep, and then her voice comes back, more present this time. "Aaron."

Your eyes snap over to him, but he's still looking at the phone.

"I know you're up there," she continues. "Aaron Hotchner."

He reaches forward and carefully lifts the phone with his gloved hand. He walks over to the window as he presses it to his ear. "I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours."

You bend down and press the speaker button on the main console as he moves across the room.

"I thought I could trust you, Aaron." Her voice is tight over the line, the tiny speakers still enough to amplify the emotion in her voice. She sounds so...disappointed.

"Who says you can't?" he responds slowly, clearly testing the range of her emotion.

"I want to," she says quietly. "I even looked you up online. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings...and for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world."

You remember that presentation. There had been a shooting at an elementary school in Virginia, and the moment the news hit, he had been on the phone, discussing procedures to ensure it wouldn't happen again. You went with him that day that he gave the speech, and you could tell he had been thinking of Jack the entire time he was up there.

Hotch closes his eyes for a beat. "But I've disappointed you, haven't I? Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families."

The line is silent, before: "Did you walk out on your family?"

Hotch looks down for a moment and you fight the urge to walk over and pull him into a hug. "No. My wife left me."

You can feel the team's eyes on you as you keep your expression neutral, your eyes focused on him.

"Do you have kids?"

Your mind flashes to Jack, and your chest feels warm as he nods, before muttering a quick "yes".

The woman speaks up again, her voice stronger yet more emotional. "How often do you see him?"

"I try to see him every week."

She scoffs. "Do you see him every week?" Her question is like a jab, trying to push him into doing or saying something that will prove he's just like the other men in her life.

"No," he admits, glancing back at you. You nod, trying to let him know that you're right here. "I don't get there as often as I want."

"I believe you." Her voice softens and you watch as Hotch's expression turns back to his thinking face. He has an idea.

He lets her talk for a minute, listening in to Garcia's updates on the trap-and-trace, until he chimes in again. "But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?"

You can hear the confusion in her tone. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you wanna show the world all these bad men, and my investigation's just getting in your way."

"No, Aaron," she sighs heavily. "You just want me to disappear, just like they do."

He shakes his head, turning to look out the window. "Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you. You don't know who to trust. Am I right?"

There are tears in her voice as she quietly whispers an acknowledgement.

"Come to me and turn yourself in." He walks back to the living area. "I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear."

His voice is a comfort, and for a brief moment, you think that he could probably convince you to turn yourself in if you had to.

There's a beat of silence, before a small rustling sound. "If we met under different circumstances...I could believe that."

The rustling continues, before her tone changes completely, going from soft and meek to strong and icy. "I won't let you cover this up."

There's a gunshot right before the call cuts out.

***

You follow Hotch and Derek into the hotel room, checking behind you as you aim your gun out in front of you. Once Garcia found Megan Kane's address and client list, everything else fell into place.

The room is empty, except for a gun and a bottle of champagne placed theatrically on the center table.

"Hotch," Derek whispers, pointing out at the balcony, where a figure is laying down on one of the lounge chairs.

His brow furrows and he lifts his hand. "Wait here."

"You sure?" you ask, stepping forward to get a better look.

He nods. "It's over. She knows it."

Derek steps out to call 911, and you watch as Hotch approaches her slowly, tucking his gun into his holster before sitting on the chair beside her.

"Nothing will change," you hear her whisper, her voice overflowing with despair. "They'll just go back to doing whatever they want and they'll keep getting away with it."

He shakes his head. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

The response is almost corny, but his voice is so earnest that you find yourself believing him anyway.

He reaches forward and takes her hand, holding it tightly as her head lolls to the side to look at him. "How could your wife have ever left someone like you?"

He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the sadness permeating off of both of them as he comforts her in her final moments. Haley is one of your good friends, and you know she would've made their marriage work if it was something she could control. This job just isn't that.

Megan lets out a soft sob and you avert your eyes, feeling like you're intruding on a private moment. "You're the first man I ever met who didn't let me down. Will you stay with me?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He holds her hand for a long time, and he doesn't stand up until you're certain she's been dead for minutes. The walk back to you is slow, and you can see the extra weight on his shoulders as he trudges across the hotel room.

You open your arms and he all but falls into them, letting you pull him into a tight hug that you can tell is holding him together right now.

"You did good," you whisper as his face presses into your shoulder. "You kept your promise. It's the last thing she wanted, and you gave it to her."

You feel him nod, and a moment later, he stands up, letting his arms drop like deadweights. His hair is slightly disheveled, so you reach up and push the front strands back from his forehead, before resting your hand on his cheek for a quick second. "Let's go home?"

He nods again. "Let's go home."

***

It's snowing. You don't realize it until you step out of the car and onto the sidewalk in front of the Georgetown brownstone where the priest was taken in.

Emily and Derek caught him in the middle of an attempted exorcism, and you didn't arrive with the rest of the team until they were already bringing him out in cuffs. She looks shaken as she leads her friend out of the house and to the ambulance waiting on the street.

Once the paramedics take him from her hands, her body all but deflates, and she exhales deeply, as though releasing the pent-up tension from the day.

"Em," you whisper, approaching her slowly. "Can I drive you home?"

She doesn't look at you at first. Whites flecks of snow dance across your vision and stick to her coat and hair as she stares at the ground. After a moment, she shakes her head. "I'm gonna walk for a while."

Her feet don't move, and you're reminded of a conversation you had years ago, when she comforted you and offered you a quiet place to just be. Gently looping your arm through hers, you ask, "Do you want some company?"

She nods almost immediately, and you let her lead the way as you walk away from the red and blue flashing lights. You can't imagine how tough this case must have been for her, especially because the people she loved were so deeply involved.

The walk is silent, and you look down, watching the patterns the soles of your boots make in the snow. You only stop moving when Emily does, her sudden stillness tugging you back as she stands in front of a small church that she must have seen from down the street.

She lets go of your arm as she turns her face up to the sky, hugging herself in an effort to stay warm or shield herself. Maybe a mix of both.

"You don't have to say anything," you say softly as you turn to face the church as well, your shoulder pressing lightly against hers, "but if you want to, I'm always here to listen."

Emily glances up at the church, her eyes shining in the cold, and presses her lips together as she takes in a shaky breath. "My friend...who died...Matthew. He knew the Bible inside and out, and one day he started to question everything."

You think you know where this is going, but you don't want to interrupt her when she's letting out emotions she has clearly kept inside for years.

"We moved around a lot when I was younger, because of my mom's postings, and when you're 15, it's really hard to get accepted."

She's silent for a few moments and you take the opportunity to fill in the gaps for her, so she doesn't have to say it out loud. "You got pregnant?"

She nods, taking a deep breath. "Matthew wasn't the father. It-it was...something else. But I didn't know what to do. He told me to talk to our priest, but he just said that if I had an abortion, I wasn't welcome in his congregation."

Your throat tightens with tears and you blink them back, swallowing thickly. "What did you do?"

"Matthew found a doctor." Her arms tighten around her abdomen, and she lets out a small shiver. "He took me there, and he stayed with me. Then, when we got back, he held my hand and walked me into the church." Her voice cracks as she continues. "Father Gamino actually stopped his sermon, but Matthew told me to hold my head up and we walked to the front pew."

Her arms fall then, and you look up to see the wetness on her cheeks, pink from the cold. "Matthew saved my life. He made me feel like I was worthy of...love, and friendship, but then his anger and questioning started." She finally looks at you, and her eyes are wide with grief and anguish. "He saved me, and it's my fault that his life unraveled."

You're shaking your head before she's even finished speaking. "Em, honey, it's not your fault. He was your friend. He loved you, and everything he did for you was his choice. Anything he discovered after that was already within him."

Another tear falls down her cheek and you reach forward to pull her into a hug that she accepts gratefully. "You're one of the strongest people I know."

Her hands clutch the back of your coat as she cries silently into your shoulder, and you don't let go until she finally stops shaking.

***

Hotch is ending a phone call when you step into his office. He sets it down and nods when you step inside, but you can see the lines of tension just in the way he's standing.

"Is everything alright?" you ask, walking inside and standing in front of his desk. "What was that call about?"

He doesn't look up. "Shaunessy died last night."

"Oh, Aaron, I'm so sorry." You squeeze his forearm over the desk, but he still won't look at you. "He was your first boss here at the BAU, right?"

He nods, before clearing his throat and straightening his back. "He was sick. This isn't a surprise, but there's something else we may need to talk about-"

He's interrupted by JJ coming into his office, a case file in hand. "Sorry, but you wanted to know immediately about any unusual Boston homicides?"

You see his jaw twitch as he takes the file from her and flips it open, scanning the first page quickly. JJ glances over at you, a confused expression on her face, but you can only shrug.

He looks up after a minute. "We're going to Boston."

JJ sputters. "Wha-what, but we haven't been invited?"

"We will be." He grabs his coat and sidesteps the two of you, before booking it out of his office. You're hot on his heels as he grabs his briefcase and alerts the team that they need to be ready to leave within the hour.

"What was that about?" Morgan asks, turning to you.

You shrug again. "I have no idea." You turn to the glass doors swinging shut behind him, and rush outside before you can second guess your actions.

"Aaron!" you call out, forcing him to hold the elevator for you. "Tell me what's going on."

He sighs as you step inside, and he sets the briefcase on the floor. "It's the Boston Reaper. He's back."

"The Reaper?" The name sends a shudder through your body. "That was your first case as a profiler, wasn't it?"

He nods, and you wait for him to continue. "He offered Shaunessy a deal that if he shut down the investigation, then he would stop killing."

His words take a moment to register, but then your face falls. "He took the deal. And now that he's dead..."

"The Reaper has started killing again."

***

The next crime scene comes in the form of an older couple, who were killed in their car on the side of the street. When you arrive, you discover that the unsub left behind the previous victim's watch, as well as a note.

You sidle up next to Hotch, bumping your shoulder against his to alert him to your presence. "Looks like he went through her purse. Any idea what he was looking for?"

He's so focused on the letter in his hands that he doesn't respond, so you lean in and read it from beside his shoulder. "The question mark is new."

"It's for us," he says suddenly, dropping his hand and looking at you. "He's saying it's not fate. He's saying we had 10 years to save them and that these latest ones are on us."

You frown, trying to scrutinize the lines of tension on his face. "You got all that from one question mark?"

"I may know him better than I've let on."

Your brow furrows and you grab his wrist, bringing his attention back to you. "What does that mean? Aaron?"

"It means that there is a profile on The Reaper."

"You said you were called off before you could make one-"

"We were," he cuts you off, shaking his head. "I had just started the profile, and then he stopped killing, so officially we were done, but..."

You purse your lips. "But this case stuck with you."

He nods. "I kept coming back to it over the years, and I worked on it alone."

You can imagine young Hotch, in his first years at the bureau, poring over the case file late into the night, because he couldn't put it away when the unsub was still out there. You realize, all of a sudden, that it reminds you of Gideon.

Looking up at him, you release his wrist, letting your fingers drag on his pulse for a moment before letting go. "We need to hear your profile."

***

After he gives the profile alone, you all head back to the hotel to get some rest before the long days ahead of you. In your heart of hearts, you know that no one will really be sleeping tonight, least of all Hotch, so you go up to his room with him to keep working on the case.

"Can you imagine living with the fear that the man who killed your fiancee, and nearly killed you, is still out there?" Your question is mostly rhetorical, but Hotch still lets out a soft grunt from the bed where he's poring over crime scene photos from the last few victims.

"It explains why Foyet went so underground," he says with a frown. "The multiple residences under different names, always taking the bus...I just wish he had taken us up on moving him to a safe house."

"I think that's actually the one part I do understand," you muse, looking up from the file on your lap. "Part of the reason why I came back from my dad's house so soon after Jeff died was because I needed everything to return to normal. I needed my life back."

He glances up at you then with a slight raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head before looking back down. It's okay. Not now.

He looks like he wants to say something, but then the hotel room phone goes off, piercing the air with a high ringing sound. He gets off the bed and picks it up, answering with a stern, "Hotchner."

He's silent at first, but you only look up when you hear him say, "You've misjudged me. I'm the guy who hunts guys like you...I'll see you soon." He slams the phone down on the receiver, and even though you know exactly what that was, you still need him to say it.

"Hotch, what was that?"

He rubs a hand over his face, pacing back and forth across the small space in front of you.

"Was that him?"

He doesn't respond, instead mumbling something under his breath that you can't make out. You stand up and cross the room, before grabbing his forearms so he's forced to look at you. "Aaron! What did he say?"

His eyes are frantic as he finally meets your eye. "He offered me the same deal...and I didn't take it."

***

"Six bodies, not including the driver. He put 'em down with the gun and finished them off with his knife."

The scene inside the bus is horrifying. Blood is dripping from each of the seats, and the words "No Deal", along with a series of numbers, are painted in blood on the windows.

Rossi comes up beside you as you watch Hotch survey the scene, an eerie stillness to his composure. "What's going on with him?"

You glance at him, before turning back to Hotch. "The Reaper called him at his room tonight, offering the deal...and he hung up on him."

Rossi nods, before patting your arm and stepping around you. He nods at Hotch, grabbing his attention away from the scene he hasn't been able to look away from for minutes. "Y/N told me what happened earlier. So, what, you think this is your fault?"

"It is." His voice is shakier than you'd expect based on the resolution in his choice of words.

"Okay," Rossi shrugs, reaching for the gun in his holster. "Here, use mine." Your brow furrows and you step forward, making sure you're nearby in case this gets out of hand. You love Dave, but he can be a bit heavy-handed sometimes.

"You convinced me," he continues, shoving his hand forward. Hotch shakes his head, but he doesn't let up. "No, no, you hung up on him. You practically killed them yourself. Go ahead, get it over with. Don't worry about us. We'll get this guy without you."

Hotch closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, they're shining with tears. You realize, with a shock, that you haven't seen him cry in decades. Not since the day after his father's funeral when Sean shut himself in his room for hours, because he truly believed that his brother didn't care about their family.

When he looks at Rossi again, a few tears have fallen down his cheeks. "I had ten years to do something about it."

"Look," he says simply, lowering his gun, "if you want to end up like Shaunessy, like Gideon, blaming yourself for everything, then you go ahead. But that voice in your head, it's not your conscience. It's your ego."

Hotch deflates, and you reach forward to wrap your fingers around his wrist, maintaining a steady connection. He looks at you, and you dip your chin into a tiny nod. It's not always your fault.

He looks back at Dave with a heavy sigh, but he doesn't pull his hand from your grasp. "You can put that away now."

Rossi raises his eyebrows as he tucks the gun away. "You sure?"

Hotch shakes his head, unable to hide his smile, and you let out a little chuckle. "It's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"My wife always said I had a flair for the dramatic."

You and Hotch speak up at the same time. "Which one?"

Rossi shrugs. "All of them."

You laugh, before squeezing Aaron's wrist once more and letting go.

***

George Foyet is the Reaper.

You can't believe it even as the words circle around your brain. The team was able to catch him before he killed Colson, the journalist who wrote a book about him, but the victory still doesn't feel sweet.

I'm gonna be more famous than you even realize.

His last words before Derek cuffed him and handed him off to the police. They won't leave your head even as you step off the elevator into the office. Emily and JJ are chatting about some new restaurant in town as they step out ahead of you, and you walk to your desk in a trance, unable to figure out why you aren't able to let out the breath you've been holding since you left for Boston.

Your question is answered when JJ runs back from her office a few minutes later, her phone clutched in her hand and a panicked expression on her face. "Foyet escaped."

***

It takes a while for Derek to get over the Foyet news. He took his badge and credentials when he knocked him out, and even with the replacement he was given, you know the knowledge that Foyet is out there is still irking at him.

Hotch isn't much better. He's been throwing himself into work extra hard, and you're worried he's going to burn out or simply combust if he keeps at it.

This is exactly what Foyet wants, you want to scream. He's trying to get in your heads and mess with your life, without even being here.

But you don't say it.

***

He's been so immersed in work that he doesn't really get to talk to you until a case in Oregon, where an unsub has been killing people by hitting them with his car.

You're grabbing a cup of coffee at the local police station, pouring in an uncharacteristic packet of sugar, when he approaches you, perching on the edge of the counter. "Sugar?"

"I know," you sigh, tossing the empty packet into the trash can next to you. "I just wanted something a little sweeter today."

"Can't argue with that," he says softly, making you smile. It drops almost as fast as it appeared, and he scoots closer as he hands you a wooden stirrer. "How are you holding up?"

This case can't be easy for you, especially knowing how your mom died. You don't talk about it often, but when you do, he can tell it's because you need to let it out. He's the same way with his father, only the feelings he is hiding from are different.

"I'm fine," you say quickly, like it's an automatic response. You both know it's a lie, and you close your eyes for a beat, dropping the stirrer into your cup. "I should be fine, but...I don't know." He follows your gaze over to the open case file across the table, and notices how your eyes hang on the crime scene photos. The car wreckage. The tread marks on the road. "I don't know why this case is affecting me so much. I didn't even see the crash when my mom died."

He reaches forward and closes the file. "Grief works in interesting ways." If there's anything he has the authority to speak on, it's grief. But then again, so do you. He doesn't know if he would've gotten through the aftermath of his father's death without you. Thinking about it now, he doesn't think he's told anyone else the whole truth about his family. "Anything can be a trigger."

"What was your trigger?" you ask suddenly, turning to look at him. "After your dad died?" Your eyes are full of curiosity, and for a moment, he wonders again if you really can read his mind.

He takes a deep breath before answering. "For a while, almost everything was. The smell of his beer, the material of his favorite coat...it all made me so angry."

"I remember," you whisper, setting your coffee down, "but soon after, that changed." You look at him with a small smile. "You met Haley."

His jaw twitches and he realizes that he wasn't even thinking about her. The first person that came to mind when he thought about his healing process was you. Haley was everything to him, but she wasn't built for the life he grew up with. She wouldn't have been able to understand the rage flowing through his body when he thought of his father's death. The anger and hurt he felt, that somehow always transformed to guilt when he went back home for the night.

"Yeah," he says after a moment, accepting your judgment, even if it is a lie. He doesn't want to talk about this anymore, so he diverts back to the original subject. "Your mother was different. She loved you exactly how you deserved to be loved. Even if it hurts sometimes, it's just a reminder that you had something great."

That makes you smile, and he feels warmth fill his chest. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He nods, patting your knee. "It's been known to happen."

***

You're in the passenger seat next to Derek when you see it. You watch him swerve his SUV into the unsub's truck in real time, but you still don't believe what you're seeing until the cars come to a stop, smoke billowing out of the front.

Derek screeches to a stop and there's glass everywhere as you throw yourself out of the SUV and race towards the collision site.

Aaron is stumbling out of his car when you reach him. There's a gash on his forehead, dripping blood down his face, and another on his arm. He tries to reach for his gun, but you grab his arms, holding him against the SUV.

"Sorry," he mutters through gritted teeth as you reach up to swipe the blood off his forehead before it falls into his eye. Your hand stays on his face as you survey the rest of him for any other wounds that may need your attention.

Once you're certain that he'll be okay, you turn back to him with a glare. "You scared the shit out of me." Your thumb is unconsciously rubbing circles on his jaw as he looks down at you. You are well aware that danger comes with the job description, but he also knows you would kill him if he ever put himself in serious danger, especially when it wasn't necessary. "Don't ever do that again."

He takes a deep breath as you pick a piece of glass out of his hair. When you return to meet his gaze, he reaches out to grab the strap of your vest. "I'm sorry."

You tug each other forward into a hug at seemingly the same time. You don't get the chance to be careful with his wounds as you collide into his chest, but you forget about everything else the moment his arms close around you. He's okay. He's alive.

"You don't get to die on me," you whisper into his collarbone as you tighten your grip around him. "Promise me."

You know it's not fair. You know it's not something he can control, especially with the kinds of people you chase on a daily basis, but it doesn't matter, because he knows you. He knows when you need the facts, and when you need reassurance, so instead of uttering a funny quip or a painful truth, he just says, "I promise."

***

Are you sure it's okay that I'm coming?

You type back a response as soon as you see the message on your phone. Of course. Dave invited you and Jack, and I would love to see you too.

A few minutes later, you get a simple Ok, so you set your phone down on the table and stand up to join the rest of your friends. With summer around the corner, Dave wanted to host a garden party, and after the last few months, you definitely don't mind the respite.

"Come get some more food," he tells you the moment you approach them by the edge of his huge yard. He's standing with Derek, Spencer, and Penelope by a long table adorned with steaming dishes of bread, pasta, and salad.

"I'll explode if I eat any more," you say with a laugh as Spencer stuffs another piece of bread into his mouth. For a small as he looks, he can be a bottomless pit when it comes to good food. "Have you guys seen Hotch?"

"He isn't here yet," Penelope notes as Derek wraps an arm around her. "I'll keep an eye out though."

"Do you think he'll bring Haley and Jack?" Spencer asks as JJ approaches with Henry in her arms.

"I told her to come," you say, tickling the baby's chin with the tip of your finger. "It'll be nice to see everyone together."

As though conjured by their questions, the door to the backyard opens and Jack steps out with Haley and Hotch right behind him.

"You're here!" You walk across the lawn and give her a quick hug, before bending down and lifting Jack into the air. "What's up, Jack-o-lantern? You're so big now."

"Yeah," he giggles, wrapping his arms around your neck. You press a loud kiss to the side of his head and he bursts into a fit of giggles as you tickle his belly with your free hand.

"I'm so glad you made it," Dave says from behind you as he comes over and gives Haley a hug. "We love having you here."

She raises her eyebrow at Hotch, but there's no intention behind it. Divorce seems to have treated them well, reminding them of all of the good that was there before everything else got in the way. "Thank you for inviting us."

"Seriously, thank you," Hotch agrees, before reaching out to take Jack from your arms.

"Any time," Dave says sincerely, before nodding at him. "Come help me grab some more wine from the cellar."

They disappear into the house, and you pull Haley down with you into two of the chairs by the edge of the sprawling yard. "Hotch and Jack are sweet together."

She nods, looking wistfully at the door. "He loves any time he gets with his dad."

"It can't be easy," you say slowly, hoping you aren't breaching a boundary unknown to you. "I've seen firsthand how busy the job has been getting recently. I haven't been home before midnight in over a week."

She's silent for a moment, and you worry that you crossed the line, but then she just smiles. "He's trying so hard...and that's all I can really ask for, isn't it?"

You suppose she's right. Not everyone is lucky enough to find a person who fights as hard as Aaron does to get home to his family at the end of the day.

"You're good for him, you know." You look at her as she crosses one leg over the other. "You always have been."

"You are too."

"I know," she says, before shaking her head. Her expression is warm as she smiles at you. "It's not the same, though. Even when you weren't around, you were in everything he did."

You don't know exactly where she's going with this, and you're acutely aware of the choruses of laughter floating over to you from across the lawn as she reaches out to squeeze your arm. "He loves you."

Your face transforms into what you imagine is a look of confusion. "I love him, too. He's my best friend."

Haley looks at you for a moment, before shaking her head with a nearly inscrutable sigh. "Anyway, thanks for convincing me to come. I'm gonna get some food."

~

Eventually, the sun sets, and the string lights in Dave's backyard turn on, along with the soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald and Sam Cooke. He helps Derek and Will push the tables and chairs aside to make room for a dance floor, and soon, Haley is in his arms as they swing along to the lilting tunes filtering out over the yard.

It feels natural, dancing with her like this, but at the same time, he knows it's different now. He holds her firmly as she tilts in his arms, loose from the wine that Dave made sure was pouring all night, and she lets him swing her around the lawn, no care in the world.

Soon, the song changes, and she looks at him with a dreamy smile. "You love this song."

It's a soft tune by Sam Cooke, one he can't remember the name of right now, but he smiles at her as he nods. "I'm glad you're here. You and Jack."

"I missed you all," she says, before cracking a smile. "Mostly just Y/N though."

That makes him laugh, and before he knows it, Dave is walking over, with you on his hand, asking to trade partners for the song. "I haven't gotten to talk to Haley all night."

It's not the best excuse, but Haley doesn't seem to mind at all. "Of course, I'd love to dance."

Dave whisks her away, and Hotch holds a hand out for you, pulling you into another steady swing.

"I love this song," you whisper as the two of you fall into a rhythm. "I Wish You Love."

Right, that's what it's called. His hand settles on your waist as you grip his shoulder, and he can tell you've had a bit of wine too, but only because of the red tint of your cheeks.

"This is nice," you say after a few beats of silence. "We don't get to do this often."

He nods, turning you to make room for Derek and Emily, who are swinging heartily across the yard. "It's nice to see the kids together." He glances over your shoulder to peer at JJ, who has Henry and Jack in each of her arms. She has jumped head first into motherhood, and it suits her.

The song changes to something a little slower, so he steers you to the edge of the dance floor, taking control as your feet glide after him. Maybe you've had a bit more wine than he first assumed.

The thought makes him chuckle and you look at him with a quizzical expression. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head, and clasps your hand tighter to hold you to him. He glances over your shoulder again and finds an excuse for his laughter almost immediately. "Garcia is trying to teach Reid how to dance."

You tug his arm immediately, spinning the two of you around so you can see the situation he described, and your face breaks out into a wide grin when you spot them a few paces over. "The poor kid has no coordination."

As you watch them dance, he watches you. The way the string lights glance over your exposed shoulders. The sparkle of your eyes under the waning moonlight. He realizes, not for the first time, how beautiful you are.

He could give himself the usual excuse, that it's just the time of the night, or the single glass of red he drank a few hours ago, but tonight, he lets himself just be there.

You're his best friend, and he loves you. He's here, dancing around the grass with some of his closest companions, and you're with him. For once, he can just be.

***

You can't the pile of shoes out of your head. Derek and Emily were able to find the girl before Lucas Turner killed her, but even after arresting him and getting her back to her mother, the case is still sticking with you.

89 pairs of shoes.

You shake the thought from your head as you get into Hotch's car in the field office parking lot. He insisted on driving you home after seeing the look on your face in the plane, and for once, you didn't argue with him.

"I can't stop thinking about them," you whisper as he pulls out of the lot. "So many lives that are forever changed because of two men."

You saw how Derek reacted when he found the box of muddy shoes. You saw JJ's face after she had to shoot Hightower for murdering the man who experimented on his sister.

"I'm thinking of giving everyone a few days off," he says, glancing over at you. "We all need some time to get away from this job. I'll put the request in tomorrow morning."

You nod, unable to voice your opinion. You feel depleted, without having even witnessed the horrors you know occurred up on that farm.

It takes a second, but eventually you regain the ability to speak. "Do you think it's worth it?" Your voice feels like sandpaper, but the question hurts more than anything else. "This life, I mean."

He mulls it over, and you notice his grip tighten on the steering wheel in front of him. "I think it has to be." Your brow furrows, and you don't know whether you want to scream or cry at how terrible that answer feels right now, but he isn't finished. "We have put too much of ourselves into this job to allow us to forget about all of the good that has come out of it too. If we choose to forget the good, then none of it means anything."

You look at him in wonder, realizing he has voiced exactly what you needed to hear. You're constantly awestruck by how he always seems to know exactly what to say to bring back your sense of purpose.

"You're good at this whole leadership thing," you say softly, cracking a smile when he looks at you. "You help me grow."

He pushes you just hard enough to help you transform into something so much bigger and better than you hoped you could be. His chin dips and he turns back to the road as your neighborhood comes into view. "You help me grow too."

You lean your cheek on your palm as you snuggle further into the seat. "I called Josh Cramer, over at organized crime."

His eyebrows raise with surprise and he glances over at you. "Jeff's old boss? How did that go?"

During your last interaction at the BAU office all those years ago, you weren't ready to see him yet. He still reminded you of the hate and anger and guilt you felt over Jeff's death.

The last few months have been kinder to you, though. It doesn't hurt as much when you think about him.

"It went well," you sigh, looking out the window at the houses passing by. "Even though it'll never really be the same, it felt more like old times, if that makes any sense."

"It does," he says simply, providing you an acknowledgement before letting you fill in the spaces yourself.

You take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs, before letting it out again. "He told me a story from before Jeff went undercover. It was just a dumb story about some night his team went out for burgers after wrapping up a case." Your breaths get shallower, but the tears you are expecting don't come. "Apparently, he made the team go to three different burger spots, because he wanted to bring me back curly fries, and none of the places were selling the kind I like."

You clear your throat to dispel the tightness, and when you look back at him, the car has come to a stop in front of your house.

"That sounds like him," Hotch says, smiling at you as you chuckle to yourself.

You nod, closing your eyes for a beat. "I guess I just wanted to say that, yeah, our lives are sometimes changed inalterably, but...it's not always bad. I met him, I loved him...and then I lost him, but I still wouldn't take back any of it."

His eyes crinkle and he looks out the windshield for a brief second. "Me neither."

It's already late, and you don't want to take up any more of his night, so you bid him goodbye and shut your door after making him promise to actually get some rest.

Your front door shuts behind you, and you hear the sound of his car driving off as you exhale heavily. Your house feels big with you here alone, but for once, you revel in the solitude. Finally, a few days of peace and quiet.

TAGLIST: @citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios (message me to be added!)

[drdemonprince]

At one point he was down in between my legs, fingering me, and he made a throwaway comment about probably being Autistic. 

I leaned back, trying to relish what pleasure I was getting. “Well, we can talk about that subject, if you like,” I said vaguely, not really wanting to bring my professional life into things. 

He kept working away at my body, kissing between my lips and thighs. “Oh I know who you are,” he said suddenly. “Your book changed my life. In a way, I guess this is me thanking you.” 

I made him exit my body and we went to the kitchen to hash it out. It turned out he was a big fan of many things I’d written. 

“I’ve seen you around the neighborhood many times,” he confessed. “But you posted online that you don’t like when people come up to you, and so I always decided to leave you alone.” 

He said, “Your book is the reason I got divorced, actually. My ex-husband was a therapist, and when I showed him your book and said I thought I might be Autistic, he didn’t believe me. We have been separated for a year.” 

He asked, “Did I just make this weird, telling you when I did that I was a fan?” I told him that if he’d said it sooner, I would have never fucked him at all. 

People never realize that when they approach me, what they are doing is dragging me into work. It doesn’t matter whether I was at breakfast, or an orgy. I was just some guy standing there, enjoying his beer, but now they have made me the known scholar and author. And sure, my job might be meaningful, but that doesn’t mean I like to work. 

I tell my friend that I no longer want to be a public figure, and that I am planning how to make it all end. She tells me, “You’ve got to do what is the best for you, even if it’s something that the rest of us wants and can’t imagine giving up.” 

I ask myself, did I want this? It would be more flattering to say I didn’t, and play the role of the hermetic author whose work developed its own life purely because it was so good. But that isn’t true. 

From the moment I got a Myspace account in high school, I was publishing essays about my political views. I serialized multiple novels on Tumblr, guerilla marketing them with giveaways and custom-made images until they hit the Kindle sales charts. I have made memes, tried starting viral trends, coined phrases, and given hundreds of hours’ worth of media interviews. I write prescriptive nonfiction, for Christ’s sake. Of course people seek guidance from me. I offer it up! 

I have been strategic about how I dress, and my video backdrops, and retaken clips of myself speaking over and over again until they sounded right. I’ve hosted debates with my most vicious critics while I’m in the shower, started public beef with creators who had larger accounts than I did, and rushed to my keyboard when upsetting news broke, because I alone was possessed of the most correct take on it.

I wanted this. I didn’t know what this was, this internet fame I was chasing, but I did all I could to make it mine. I thought that by writing so much, I would one day be able to escape myself, maybe really feel connected to other people. Instead it has meant never being able to stop thinking about myself: how I am seen, what I am working on, how it all fits together, what comes next. It has also meant being spoken about, theorized about, and criticized, and developing a firm exoskeleton of disdain between myself and the world. 

I believe now that that it is immoral for any person to be listened to by ninety thousand other people. Holding authority and status like that runs counter to my anarchic ideals. I am not more important or correct than anyone. I should not be trusted to tell people which commodities to buy, which companies not to support, what to read, what to think, what words to use, or how to conduct their lives. 

All the other animals know there is no one way that a creature “should” live. There is only the way that it does. The world has no consciousness, no beliefs. It cannot pass judgment. We only feel so watched and evaluated because we have covered the planet with so many millions of our eyes. But we can stop performing dignified human goodness at any moment. 

I think that celebrity is an evil, corrupting force that pits the human instinct for bonding against itself. Instead of appreciating the singing of our friends around the fire, we stream Chappell Roan until stalkers break into her house. Rather than playing card games together, we stan Twitch streamers, filling up their chats with highlighted messages until they acknowledge us. We long to be famous novelists because then we would have the social permission to write, and we don’t have the money or time to enjoy the activity on its own. 

I wrote about Chappell Roan, stalker stans, and how turning art into content creation ruins the work, and the creator's life. It's free to read in full (or have narrated to you by the app!) on Substack.

[absolutebl]

Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!

I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?

The things I had been told going in about this show:

it's about car racing (this bores me)

it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)

it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series

it's high heat

(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)

Here's a definition of omegaverse:

Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)

In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)

Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.

Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:

Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him

Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen

Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence

Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role

Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh

All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.

And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.

Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems

This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.

My initial reaction:

the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is

how dare

but also

what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?

we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?

apparently this is my reality now

I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,

yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...

Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars

and I'm beginning to think they may be right

BL is now the platypus of the film industry

4 days later:

Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.

But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.

On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?

More random thoughts:

Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.

The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...

Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)

Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.

None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!

I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.

Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.

How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.

I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)

Controlled burn?

Anygay, see you all next week.

Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once

[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]

3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)

Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.

Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).

Wait wait:

Calling Daddy Actual

(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)

Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.

Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.

Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)

Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.

Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.

File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.

Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.

This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.

Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?

Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.

Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?

Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.

Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.

nuh-uh

Linguistic corner!

Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.

Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.

I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.

Get it? Snake.

He and Babe should end up together.

The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?

Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.

Also...

WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)

I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.

Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.

Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.

But one should be with Noh.

Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux

Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.

How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.

I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.

Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.

Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.

Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.

Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.

Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.

I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.

So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.

#giveWayaboy2023

Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible

Here’s the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now it’s kind of like a soap opera. I don’t hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamanté scenery (completed with death glitter). But...

If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.

Instead, right now, I don’t know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. I’m kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. It’s uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers. 

Also... I have questions.

Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?

But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?

That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. It’s very traumatic and I’m not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying. 

On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:

There’s absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.

#giveWay2Kim2023

Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?

Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?

What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.

Plot thickens.

Hah.

Thickens.

(I am an immature idiot.)

Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?

Look, BLabies, I didn’t get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasn’t anything worth capturing.

I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now. 

Is that?

NO.

Don't get the plastic bowl.

No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope.  

I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.

AND the main boys are back together.

I don’t find their relationship or Babe’s lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.

Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.

BUT I do love the sides.

Jeff = the introvert precog who can’t/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesn’t understand him. 

Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants? 

I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.

On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!

In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and it’s probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.

Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?

This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.

Whatever.

Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.

Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?

The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)

Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.

Please & thank you. 

Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.

I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.

That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.

Hello, my gender is... enigma.

 Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e!  Also sometimes switch-ee 

Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.

Funfunfun

Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.

OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?

3 seconds later.

Noooo.

Wait come back.

Noooooo.

That’s what I actually want to watch! 

OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?

I flipping love Alan. 

Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.

Poor Way.

But nice crying jag, and I don’t say that often in Thai BL.

Now let him go, Way.

A boy with his arrows is waiting. 

(source)

Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

bonuses

imagining for winston quant billions the kinds of spontaneous stims or other Sudden Adjustments that could arise when focusing etc while alone and able to tap into that, like “hang on a sec [holds own breast] okay.” then drawing it

[citrineghost]

I absolutely cannot get over - of all the things wrong with this season of OFMD - the abuse apologism.

Listen, hear me out, I understand that they're violent pirates. I understand they brutally murder and kill people and steal their shit and ruin lives. I get it.

The problem is, you cannot make a comedy about pirates and put a focus on the therapizing and emotional openness of the crew, making the fact that Stede showing up has them healing and talking and being emotionally more healthy as a major selling point of the show only to use that therapy-speak as a way of justifying abuse apologism.

They all hurt people, yes. The thing is, they're not supposed to hurt each other. They're supposed to be a family. The violence and abuse is supposed to be outside of the family network. They're supposed to be at home around each other, even if everyone there isn't great all the time and can sometimes be a bit toxic or unhealthy. Overall, in season 1, the message was, "We can get through this together." "Talk it through, as a crew."

Instead, season 2 dives directly into Ed committing atrocities against his own crew, giving most of them some combination of PTSD (which is clearly worse than any they've experienced before, because their personalities and ability to interact with people is completely altered), dissociation, hypervigilance, etc. Then, when they finally beat his ass and try to kill him because of the abuse, Stede fucking Bonnet shows up and is like, actually! I think you all should give him another chance!

The following episode(s) are so fucking hard to watch.

You've got people jumpy around him, terrified he's going to hurt them, all the while Stede encouraging them to just get over it and forgive him. He pushes for Ed to try to "turn poison into positivity." Basically encouraging the notion that if your abuser apologizes and then acts nice, everything should be fine and peachy.

The fact that this is bullshit is mentioned, I believe, only once, when someone noted that Edward didn't even use the words, "I'm sorry," during his apology.

This isn't just perpetuated by Stede, it's also perpetuated by Black Pete. He says to Lucius, "I feel like you're not even looking at me, you're looking through me." and then, when he sees that Lucius is drawing Ed's head on Pete's body (I guess meant to be some comedic take on traumatic fixation), he isn't sympathetic at all, he get's mad that he's not focused on him, and says something along the lines of, "You're so focused on the bad that happened to you but I haven't heard you mention once that you're alive."

This is such a heartwrenchingly common form of abuse minimization that it's nauseating to think about. This idea that, oh, you may be traumatized but actually you're not dead so who cares? Be grateful! Get over it!

And, unlike it being pointed out that Ed didn't say the words, "I'm sorry," this scene is never criticized by anyone in-show. Instead, Lucius appears very guilty and then draws a picture of Black Pete as an apology, telling him he's right.

He wasn't right. That's a fucked up thing to tell someone who was almost killed and then experienced extreme trauma following that. He made the entirety of Lucius' trauma an affront to him. Because Lucius was thinking about his trauma and not him.

Now the worst thing about all of this, to me, is that once this episode is past, it's treated as if everything is resolved. Oh haha funny, Ed walked around the ship with a cat bell on his neck for a few days so he couldn't sneak up on people! So cute and quirky!

It's fucking not! They should have thrown him onto a deserted beach and left him there. I'm not saying Ed should never be allowed to have anything good again in his life, I'm just saying it shouldn't be the crew he traumatized and abused. They don't deserve to have to live with him. They shouldn't be expected to forgive him.

Don't even talk to me about how they made a, and I quote, "Safe Space," and then Ed showed up to it. Like he had any fucking right to be there. When it was a Safe Space meant to be specifically an escape for the people he abused and traumatized. As if he, too, was a victim of him abusing them.

And on top of all of that, the fact that, as he's dying, Izzy is taking all the blame for Ed's actions as Blackbeard - another of Ed's abuse victims - and is treated as if that's the peak of his emotional development. It's not. That was where his development plummeted. He had seconds left to live and he used them to absolve his abuser of his guilt because he loves him and didn't want him to feel as bad when he died.

I was not a fan of Izzy in season 1. He was the biggest cunt on the ship, and he did encourage Ed to be a worse version of himself. But that doesn't mean his cuntiness justified him being mutilated and abused daily. We can only put so much of that on him. Ed had the power to say no. He had the power to be moderate, even. He had the power to be violent and terrible to people outside of their crew. He took Izzy's words and he ran with them - waaay further than he had any conscionable right to.

But this post isn't about season 2 Izzy. It's about abuse apologism, which I feel made up a significant portion of this season's content. And I'm just fucking furious about it.

I'm not saying shows can't have bad things in them. I'm not saying abuse apologism doesn't happen or that it doesn't have its place in media. I'm just saying, season 2 of this show wasn't a fucking comedy. The writers fucking tanked it. Everything that was good about season 1 was stripped of season 2 and everything was plunged into dark-humor tinted tragedy.

You can't base an entire show on the idea of comedically intelligent/modern therapizing language and then use that language to communicate that abusers deserve your pity and forgiveness - not to a queer audience that is probably 90% people who have been horribly abused.

[warblogs17282]

So, I've been talking with @akirathedramaqueen a bit and something that came up is that some of the antis/'critics' actually somehow think that Blitz's feelings for Stolas in s2 e8 and e9 came out of nowhere. (This version of the post with images will be posted in a reblog because IT'S GETTING SMITED OFF THE TAGS AGAIN!)

So I just want to articulate my thoughts on why I think that the people saying things like that are just wrong.

So, we've all heard of the phrase "show, not tell" right? We know that helluva boss does this quite a lot.

Let's start at s1 e5, just look at Blitz blush, listen to Blitz fumble up his words so much trying to explain that it's a quote "It's a transactional fucking, you see.". This combined with Moxxie and Millie reacting the way they do while Blitz is fumbling up his words trying to explain his relationship with Stolas to Striker, points to our first hint that the relationship is a bit more than 'transactional fucking.'.

Also, this implies that when Blitz goes to stop Striker from killing Stolas, it meant more to Blitz than just Striker 'killing Blitz's easiest lengthy ticket to Earth', it tells us that Blitz cared for Stolas' well-being.

Now, lets look at s1 e7, we see a picture of Stolas sleeping that Blitz took at some point. This further shows us that Blitz has always cared for Stolas.

Another thing that shows us that Blitz cares for Stolas is the ending of s1 e8. 'I dunno, jus- ...lonely... Die alone...' '*mumbling* Millie... Moxxie... Stolas...' The fact that Blitz says Stolas' name here just really tells us that Blitz cares for Stolas as well.

s2 e4, the infamous "He can get hurt?" line. The sheer shock, worry and concern for Stolas Blitz has in this scene also further points to the fact that Blitz cares for Stolas.

And hell, even s2 e6 points to Blitz caring about Stolas, which we can clearly see by the fact that Blitz's face drops when he says 'It's a novelty to him.', because as apology tour proves with this line 'Oh, sorry, this entire time I assumed the worst because I was convinced a prince could never love someone like me and I've let my self hatred stop me from apologizing to anyone I could ever care about!', Blitz's self hatred stopped him from properly considering the possibility that Stolas might care for him back, which is exactly why Blitz sighs and his face drops into this sort of sad look when he says that it's a novelty to Stolas. Blitz doesn't want it to be 'nothing else'.

It's really a 'I believe your subconscious is trying to tell you that you simply cannot fathom proper intimacy, but… also crave it as well.' type deal we're dealing with here. Blitz craves that intimacy, but cannot fathom receiving it, so that's why Blitz's face drops here. Which in my eyes, really convinces me that Blitz has had feelings for Stolas before s2 e8 and e9.

In conclusion: I believe that people pushing the argument that 'Blitz's feelings for Stolas came out of nowhere in s2 e8 and e9' are wrong.

[aspoonofsugar]

Some Millie and IMP Thoughts

I love Helluva Boss's new episode for all the reasons everyone else does! In particular, my favorite part is Millie getting fleshed out more.

I have always liked Millie and I disagree with people saying she is badly written. That said, the focus she got this episode adds a ton of depth to both her, her role in the series and the dynamics within IMP.

BLITZ AND IMP

Blitz is the titular character and protagonist of the series. He is the boss in Helluva Boss. As a result, everyone else is in the story for his sake. In particular, IMP is Blitz's found family:

Blitzo: Look, the point is, Loona is a valued member of our family, and we don't get rid of family. Moxxie: We aren't a family, sir! You are the boss! We are the employees!

Through them (and Stolas) Blitz gets to explore his ghosts and to heal. How is that so?

Loona and Moxxie seem to me two sides of the same coin:

-Loona is like Blitz, as she is told by the world she has no real value:

Adoption Center Lady: Oh, her? That's just Loona. What a nightmare. Serious attitude problems. She'll be out of our hair next month when she ages out. Good riddance, if you ask me. She'll never amount to anything much.

So, Blitz latches on her and adopts her. He showers her with the love he never got from his father.

-Moxxie is like Blitz, as he is abused by his father and loses his mother. As a result, he grows up unsure of himself and in need of love and approval:

Blitzo: Well, I'm glad everything ended up okay. Good to know we both have daddy issues, Mox.

However, Blitz often treats him poorly, downplays his abilities and mocks him.

So, Loona and Moxxie are Blitz's mirrors, as he projects on them in opposite ways. He treats Loona like he wishes his father treated him. He treats Moxxie similarly to how his father treated him. Obviously, Blitz isn't an abuser like Buckzo. He loves Moxxie and more importantly he is not his father. However, he and Moxxie do have a mentor-mentee dynamic and it is clear as day Moxxie wants Blitz's approval:

Blitzo: Gonna be honest, Moxxie- Not too bad for your first solo mission. Moxxie: Reeeeeally, siiiir? Blitzo: Nooo, no, not really. You're a fucking disgrace.

Still, Blitz is often unable to give it to him, despite the fact he clearly cares. This is also why Loona and Moxxie get often on each other's nerves:

Loona: How am I supposed to smell anything in this city? Moxxie: Can't you even do one thing right? Loona: Can't you finally do something about how fat you are?

Moxxie is the most critical of Blitz's favoritism towards Loona and is the one insisting Blitz calls her out on her poor attitude towards clients. This is not by chance. They are just like bickering siblings :''')

In a sense, this episode even subtly confirms this foiling:

Blitz: Loonie's perfect, and Moxxie's… probably got some good traits too and I'm sure we'll figure them out eventually.

Loona is perfect and Moxxie has no good traits. What about seeing the world in black and white?

So, where does Millie fit in all of this?

Blitzo: So I'm your best friend, huh? Millie: What do you think? Blitzo: I think…I- I've never had a real friend that I didn't wanna fuck.

She is the only one Blitz does not project over, so they grow into genuine friends. They are equals, value each other and love each other. So, Millie freely states what Loona and Moxxie also think, but can't properly convey:

Millie: He (Blitz) gave me so much…A career, a husband, a future. And now…He's my best friend. Blitzo: You… you don't hate me? Millie: Naw, never.

Blitz gave her, Moxxie and Loona a better future. He is their precious boss and a treasured family member.

MILLIE'S THEME

Helluva Boss has two main themes:

Relationships

Classism

Moxxie is linked to Blitz's unhealthy way to build relationships. Their bond is a complicated mix of friendship, family love, professional interest and a little bit of possessiveness on Blitz's part. That's why it is so complicated and contradictive. Millie ties into this as Moxxie's wife, since M&M's relationship is Blitz's ideal one.

Still, this episode makes clear Millie's true thematic relevance is for the topic of classism:

Millie: We… heh. We don't deserve this. We're just Wrathians, Blitzo. Muscle. It's all we're good for, all I'm good for. It's why you hired me. Any demon good at making a buck is welcome in Lust or Greed, but here? Demons like us ain't cut out for this.

Classism permeates Hell, which is built on a strong hierarchy. All characters have suffered the consequences of this, while being influenced by it at the same time. For example:

Blitz is an imp, who has been looked down and victimized by society. However, he also embraces classist prejudices and uses them as an excuse to push Stolas away.

Stolas is a Goetia, who has been a prisoner of his family's expectations and of his role in society. However, he is also unconsciously discriminating towards imps. He has no ill will towards them, but he calls them silly names and belittles them

Millie is the same. She is a wrathian imp of humble origins. In a sense, she is a stereotypical imp. She is incredibly strong, was born and lived the majority of her life in Wrath, aka imps' original ring. She fits the expectations of both her family and society. However, she deep down wishes for more, which is why she leaves the family ranch to become an assassin. This choice is already seen as subversive by her family, who expected her to stay home, so she could help with the family business. However, Millie herself has no high expectations for her future:

Millie: Bullshit! Who sent you? Millie: Who are you working for?! Blitzo: What? You don't believe me? Millie: Imps don't work for themselves, asshole.

She still sees herself stuck in Wrath. She will be one of many underpaid goons, who work for higher ranking demons. A life a little bit more adventurous than the one at the farm. Still, nothing extraordinary. Then, she meets Blitz:

Millie: Who's that? Your boss? Hah! Blitzo: HA he fucking wishes. No, I work for myself, lady.

Blitz is the first one, who recognizes her potential and who believes she can become more than what she is. He gives her the chance to explore the world outside the Wrath Ring and brings her up to Pride. When Millie doubts herself and her role in society, he is the one to reassure her:

Blitzo: Millie, I have spent too much of my time, energy, and holes into setting this up for us to entertain your bullshit. I brought you into this company for a reason, okay? You're tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I've ever met in any ring.

Blitz gives Millie a new life, where she is free to be herself and to choose a husband she would have never chosen, if she had stayed home with her family.

Thanks to Blitz and her work at IMP she is by this point a different person than the one she was. She does not completely fit in Wrath anymore:

Sallie May: Heh, yeah, I mean, with so many exciting things here, it's no wonder you never make your way back home. SHIT! That slipped out. Millie: ..What? Sallie May: You know… the Wrath Ring, all that dirt and rust and boring nothingness. Not much of a thriving club scene down there, why visit that, right?

Which is why she is now slowly overcoming her prejudices:

Millie: Oh yeah! Y'all haven't met my boss Blitzo! And his hellhound! Loona: I'm not just his hellhound.

It is not by chance Millie is the one calling Loona Blitz's Hellbound, as if she were a pet. Moreover, it is not by chance she does so, while talking with her family. It is probably normal for wrathian imps to see hellbounds as property. So, when she visits home, she goes back to a familiar language and mindset, without even realizing how offensive it is. That is why it is relevant this episode has Millie share a bonding moment with Loona, where she calls her by name:

Millie: Thanks. Loona.

She is not only overcoming her self-insecurities, but she is also starting to see other demons differently. She is growing not only more happy, but also more open minded. All thanks to Blitz's impact on her life:

Millie: Most of my life I bought into the idea that all I could ever be was a simple farm girl. Or best an underpaid goon. Until I met some knucklehead who never gave a fuck about what anyone else said he could or couldn't be. He made me believe he could be anything. And that made me feel like I could be anything, too.

CHARLIE AND BLITZ

Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss are twin series. They are complementary stories, with different focuses and a shared heart. This is shown in Charlie and Blitz, their respective protagonists. They are opposites.

Charlie is a royal demon, a young rich girl, who is optimistic and idealistic. She is obsessed with seeing the good in others. Blitz is instead a humble imp, an adult man, who is cynical and genre-savy. He sees only the worst in people to protect himself. However, both disrupt the status quo:

Charlie decides to completely change the hierarchy between hell and heaven. She is breaking the system the world is built on and re-writing the laws of the universe.

Blitz changes things in little ways. He is not trying to reform society, but he still acts in ways society does not expect, so he subverts hierarchies and transforms people around him.

That's something that comes up several times:

Striker: Boss, huh…? Ohhh, so YOU'RE the bold imp to start his own killing biz? Blitzo: Yeah, well if you're good at somethin', you should probably capitalize. Striker: Not many Imps start businesses on their own. That's pretty impressive, sir.

Crimson: Oh, I'm sure. You got to be Blitz, with the silent "o", right? I've heard a lot of good things about you and your work. Blitzo: Really? What kind of shit has Moxxie been spreading about me? I'll fucking kill you Moxxie, don't you fucking test me! Crimson: No, no! From all over. Looks like you're building a bit of a name for yourself here, kid.

Both Striker and Crimson comment on Blitz's business, in two moments that are to be seen as parallels:

-Striker says so, as the group visits Millie's family. Millie's family is a relatively happy one, as they all clearly love each other. However, it is an economically struggling one:

Joe: We lost our old farm hand to one of them terrors last week.

Millie's parents are loving, but traditionalists and stuck in the old ways.

-Crimson says so, as the group meets him and discovers he is Moxxie's father. Crimson is an imp, who built an empire. Moreover, he is not scared to go against the hierarchy and to challenge even the deadly sins:

Crimson: You probably just asked if I know who I'm dealing with. And, oh yes, I know. The weakest and most non-threatening of the Sins. The king who will do whatever it takes to save the worst-kept secret in all of Hell. We both know you won't risk anything happening to the clown. So be a good little bitch boy, and do the thing. My lawyers will be over shortly with the contract of demands. You have until the witching hour to sign it. Hueheheheheheheh!

Still, he sacrifices everything else to greed. In order to climb up, he destroys everyone around him. He killed his wife and abused Moxxie, so his son leaves him the first chance he gets.

In other words, Blitz offers Millie the opportunity to social climb and he offers Moxxie true friendship and comraderie. He gives them what they miss and want.

STRIKER

Finally, this episode indirectly adds a new layer to Striker's character and his role in the series. So, Striker is clearly everyone's dark foil.

Specifically, he is Blitz's jungian shadow aka what Blitz represses:

Striker: Blitzo, come on. You know, the two of us are superior than most of our kind. And you were so above suckin' on a disgusting, rich, pompous Goetia, only to sneak topside for scraps and work for bitter sinners, who could care less who you are, when you could be slaying Overlords.

He embodies Blitz's darkest side and tempts him to give in to it. For example, he backs Blitz up in his fight with Fizz over Royal Demons:

Striker: As far as I'm concerned, you two are BOTH embarrassments to our kind for meddlin' with blue-bloods to begin with. But at least loud-mouth here has the sense to only fuck his rich bitch, instead of bein' a little purse dog. Blitzo: Oh, great. The fuckin' supremacist is on my side, wonderful. Fizzarolli: Neither of you filth bags know what you're even talkin' about. If you think you're superior to ANYONE, then you're no better than any royal— Striker: DON'T. You. Dare… Finish that sentence, clown…

And let's say it is not by chance Striker is burnt and probably gets some scars the same episode it is revealed Blitz accidentally set his family circus on fire:

He is clearly meant to embody the anti-theme, both when it comes to relationships and classism. He is who Blitz might become, if he gave in to his worst instincts. That is why he is the character physically threatening Stolas's life and calling him out on his privilege at the same time:

Striker: YOU. Don't get to talk over me! I don't have to listen to your bullshit! All you royals ever do is try to talk over us!

He challenges Stolas to see the darkness in Blitz he keeps ignoring. Moreover, Striker's attempt on Stolas only works because Blitz himself does not warn Stolas, believing that with his powers the goetia can easily survive an imp's attack:

Blitzo: Stolas got what? How?… He can get hurt?

In short, Striker is a key character for both Blitz and Stolas. That said, he does foil also Moxxie and Millie. (Which is why they get to fight him twice, just like Blitz - they lose the first time and win the second).

In his debut episode, he is openly juxtaposed to Moxxie. He is the ideal imp, the one Millie's parents would have liked their daughter to marry. He is a great farmer and an even better fighter. He is strong and charming and easily defeats Moxxie at everything, even music. That said, it turns out Moxxie is a far better person and husband and gets to call out Millie's parents on it, gaining their respect in the process:

Moxxie: Y'know, she protected me. And maybe I'm not a strong beefy dickhead, but Millie has the strength enough for both of us! You two are getting on her case about being hurt by a psychopath you hired?! Shaaaaame on you!

Ghostf***ckers instead makes Striker and Millie's foiling obvious. Both are wrathian assassins, who work as goons for others:

Millie: Not exactly a shortage of imp assassins in Wrath. Reputation is everything.

Here lies Striker's contradiction. He keeps saying he hates the hierarchy, but in the end he acts exactly as society expects him to:

Stolas: Well, you seem to be forgetting; you are working for a royal right now!

He hates royals, but takes orders from them. Even when he decides to leave Wrath, he goes to Greed, so exactly where "imps able to make a buck are welcome", according to Millie:

Crimson: HEY! Hick-for-hire! I said watch 'em, not fuck 'em. Keep ya hands off the merchandise!

See? Striker acts like some big shot, but in the end he operates within the system, rather than subverting it. Both Fizz and Blitz are far more successful at overcoming the hierarchy than he is. Fizz does not take orders from royals, but becomes a romantic and business partner to one. Blitz does not resort depending on royals or imps for his job. Rather, he takes orders only from himself and invents a new business.

Striker says not everyone gets the chance to live in Pride:

Striker: Look. Not every ring is some fancy-ass city, with some fancy-ass mansion, that only fancy-ass royals get to live in. Some of us have hard lives to live.

And yet, he is offered it by Blitz, just like Millie:

Blitzo: Isn't this guy great? It's gonna be nice workin' with him. Yeaaaah! I asked him if he wants to join I.M.P.

If he had joined IMP, he could have found a family, a strong business partner and could have embraced a new life. He did not and became IMP's enemy instead. On the contrary, Millie did and is now a happier and better person.

WHAT ABOUT LOONA?

Personally, I think Loona is gonna be key in Blitz's development, as both her past, arc and relationship with her dad are very well set up. If Moxxie focuses on relationships, whereas Millie on classism, Loona will probably offer a synthesis of both themes:

Loona is Blitz's adoptive daughter and the first member of his new found family.

Loona is a hellbound, so a demon even lower than imps.

I am very curious to see how her story develops and I am looking forward to discover more about her past and to see if her foiling with Bee gets explored more. After this episode I am more curious than ever!

[purpledemonlilyposting]

Oh good Lorch is opening her mouth about Utena again. A series she only talks about because ND Stevenson and Rebecca Sugar made references to it, and because I criticized her takes on it.

Spoilers and long ass diatribes below.

[Lily's Post]

Let's do this point by point shall we?

The Thermian Argument was coined by Dan Olson... you know the Breadtuber who uploaded lolicon onto 8chan so he could write an article about how there's lolicon on 8chan. So that's a good start.

What it apparently means is a logical fallacy wherein someone uses the text of a work to quash criticism of something offensive in that work.

I'm sure Lily is going to use it to mean you can't use the text of the work to quash her own misinterpretation of that text.

Ah this is how we know she has FINALLY maybe actually watched the series. She has never mentioned the incestous tones between the three different sets of siblings in the show before now.

It isn't really played for a joke. With Nanami it's her immaturity. She doesn't really get why its inappropriate to hold her brother up as the ideal man and want chaste kisses from him like when they were little. Just like she doesn't get why its inappropriate to refer to her elementary schooler simp as her "boyfriend". She's clad in yellow when she tries to take her brother's place on the student council for a reason. She's very naive, very immature, still clinging to childhood notions of the world. Akio tries to encourage Touga to take her affection in a sexual direction to manipulate both of them, but Nanami resolutely rejects it. Because the adult reality of her childhood fancy is not what she actually wants.

Some people also speculate Nanami is a deeply closeted lesbian, given she's quick to accuse Utena of being one. And that by holding up her brother, an unattainable man, as the ultimate ideal man she's excusing herself from having to engage with other men.

And yes she drowned a kitten she originally gave to her brother out of jealously. By putting it in a box and pushing it into a reservoir. When she was a little kid and didn't know any better. And regretted it immediately.

Get this Lily: characters... can have flaws.

And that's probably why she constantly has bad karma with animals. Well also Anthy fucking with her.

Kozue and Miki are a whole other story. There was one event in their childhood that shattered how close they used to be, then their parents divorced and neither one of them really knows what to do with those feelings as they enter adolescence.

At what point is any of it fetishistic? It's always depicted as a negative thing. Do you just think it's fetishistic because of your own very obvious incest fetish Lily?

Also we're talking about princes and princesses here when the reality is often times there were arranged marriages between siblings among royalty so. You know. There's that too.

Something happening in a piece of fiction isn't an endorsement.

Lily stop treating goddamn TV Tropes as your media criticism bible.

Maybe instead of just going by what Noralities says you could, I dunno, just watch the show, and pay attention, and try to follow what it is communicating to you, and then draw your own conclusions? Wild idea I know.

Well golly gee and who was the one out here saying "Utena isn't yuri" "Utena isn't gay rep" and getting shat on on Twitter for it? You know the same Twitter conversations YOU try to use against me?

More like it's impossible for you to understand the themes because it is a very abstract, metaphorical and surrealist piece of media.

By the way Lily the primary driving theme of RGU is adolescence. That "apocalyptic" period between childhood and adulthood. The process of the death of the child and the birth of the adult. Those inbetween years when you are neither. And all of these people are within a hazy endless summer at Ohtori Academy until they find their path to adulthood, with Akio and Anthy preying upon them.

You don't have to like it Lily. No one gives a damn. The fans will continue discussing and analyzing this work as we have done for the past almost 30 years. Your input is not needed.

https://ohtori.nu/analysis/

https://satirist.org/essays/utena/

So absolute proof Lily had not watched the show in 17 years when she ran her mouth about it in her 2023 SU video. You know the thing that directly lead to me becoming a YouTuber and a thorn in her side:

(pun absolutely intended)

Again: no one gives a damn if you don't like it. And yeah, it's not a very accessible series to the average viewer. Oh well!

You said it, not me.

Utena is an important piece of art beyond it being anime, Lily. Suck it up. It's a product of the people and time it was made in, by their own studio with their own rules. Only that exact confluence of events could have lead to its creation.

[shadesofecclescakes]

Are you a big fanfic reader? What have you read lately and what's been your favourite fic so far?

Oh mannnnnnnnn. Why don't you ask me to pick a favourite child while you're at it???

Just kidding. I don't have kids. But I assume having to pick a favourite would be hard if I did.

So, am I a big fanfic reader? YES. And what haven't I read lately? We are lucky enough to have so many talented writers in this fandom that it's possible to subscribe to numerous multi-chapter fics to the point where you're just constantly getting update emails. Which I do. It's great. It gives me something to do at work aside from, y'know, work.

*Me at work being smug about being paid to read porn* (Also I just wanted to look at this gif)

So what is currently on my endless update list? Coming up after the cut!

I am an absolute whore for human AU, so if you like that then you will probably like:

The Cure for a Broken Heart by @rofell

a medical student AU based in the Canadian medical system (I'm a Canadian so I was pretty excited about that). It manages to tackle the continued systemic discrimination of Indigenous people in our medical system (and in general), homophobia and the ensuing trauma from those things all while also being informative, funny, sweet, romantic and hot af. Like. It's so good.

Free by @maaikeatthefullmoon

This is another one with with a heavy topic that also does a great job of making sure to break it up with some excellent fluff, hurt/comfort and humorous moments. And it's handled with the sensitivity and thoughtfulness necessary to write something that takes place in a mental health ward and deals with some intense situations. Definitely make sure to read those author notes before diving in. They lay it out very thoroughly.

The Sincere Way by @tsyvia48

A martial arts AU. Crowley is a karate sensei and Aziraphale is his student. Slow burn that keeps you on the edge. The screams I have scrumt at my screen over this one. Plus you learn a lot about karate (but it never gets boring or over-explainey. Excellently balanced) which is pretty cool. Mostly light (there is some angst. This is the Good Omens fandom. I think we are all sad, wet chihuahuas at heart). Funny and sweet.

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley

Plus One by @caedmonfaith

Astronaut AU. Aziraphale is an astronaut who meets his mission controller, Crowley, over the comms system when he finds himself in need of assistance.

Super cool concept and really well-done in my opinion. Like, I don't do any space or physics-related work (ok I straight-up failed math 9) but I find it entirely believable. And it's well-written which is the entire point. Cute, funny slow burn with an intriguing mystery happening in the background.

Aziraphale has family money but a shitty family (except for Muriel! Never Muriel!) and his shitty brother Gabriel is getting married to shitty Michael, an Earl's daughter.

Aziraphale's family disproves of his entire life pretty much and he has been lying to them about having a boyfriend. Now they are expecting him to bring said boyfriend to the wedding. His famous footballer friend sets him up with their mechanic, Crowley.

It starts as a slow-burn but becomes a hilarious, smutty romp that just gets more and more insane. The chapter titles alone have made me cackle out loud.

Some older human AUs I'm a huge fan of include Old Vines by @sevdrag. Crowley owns a vineyard and Aziraphale is a wine critic. It is so amazingly written. It makes me think of the author Joanna Harris (Chocolat, The Five Quarters of the Orange) because it's SO beautifully, vividly descriptive that I end up craaaaaving wine. So have a bottle on hand if you're giving this a read.

Also the love story in this. My god. I devoured it. The story and the (many bottles of) wine.

There is also Loosely Ballroom by marginalia_device and mortifyingideal. It's a Strictly Come Dancing (Dancing with the Stars in North America) AU and it is so. Fucking. Good.

But it comes with a disclaimer. It's unfinished and looks likely to stay that way. But honestly? Still worth it. It's nearly finished (I think) so you have most of the story. And it's just SO good. It's been a while since I read it but it was one of the first human AUs I read and what got me hooked on them.

If you're still with me...nice! Just know that was me holding back and that isn't my entire list by a long shot. If you want more recs, feel free to message me and also share your own!

I just finished Slow Show the actor AU by @mia-ugly and yes please.

Some serious angst, pining and hot hot smut.

There is another long-form multi-chapter actor au I loooved but I can't remember the name for the life of me. Just that the show they were on was basically good omens and that they swapped roles with great success (inspired by the whole Michael thinking Neil wanted him to play Crowley when he wanted Aziraphale thing).

Thanks for the ask! That was really fun!

[lemotmo]

Hi!! First, I just wanted to say I always enjoy checking out your posts because you have such great takes and treat every single ask with such respect. Even when it’s something that you may disagree with, you always take the time to ensure everyone that it’s just your opinion and respect the other person’s point of view! :) It’s so refreshing to see because I feel like over hiatus especially the fandom has become somewhat of a dumpster fire…lol.

Also, I agree completely about Oliver. He always says that he trusts Tim and his writing so I don’t think he would necessarily ask to have Lou leave or for BT to end abruptly or anything. And as much as we all say “oh he hates that man” we truly don’t know. What we do know, at least by his tweets at the time, was there was some tension in his friendship with Ryan several years back. Like it’s crazy to think during the shooting arc and will scene and Eddie breakdown arc in s5 that there was so much tension offscreen. It just goes to show how much of a professional he is! I also don’t think the other side is true either where Oliver is apparently purposely not promoting BT or interacting with Lou on social media to “protect him from the buddie fans.” I just think Oliver isn’t super active on social media for his own reasons and people look waaayyyy too much into things. Anyway, sorry this was so long winded LOL I just wanted to point out that we truly don’t know Oliver or his thoughts and feelings and some people making these inferences sound almost more like headcanons and it’s giving parasocial.

First of all, thank you Nonny. That means a lot to me. I always do my very best to try to stay respectful towards people and ships on my blog. That doesn’t mean that I don’t give my very honest opinions and critical takes on certain topics, but I don’t feel the need to yell over it and use more explicit language. I also avoid specific shipping tags for ships I don’t like and character tags for characters I don't like. I find that being respectful like that ultimately gets you further.

Now, that also doesn’t mean that I don’t get frustrated with some takes in fandom. But I mostly -and wisely- choose to rant about that to some of my Tumblr mutuals/friends in private. Throwing out all of my more hateful frustrations in public would only generate more hate and I try to avoid that. My inbox is so much more interesting when I get positive asks. I admit that I get so many asks these days that it has become impossible to answer them all.

Now, I do want to reply to your ask because you talk about a few topics that are near and dear to my heart and -of course- I have some opinions about. 😊

I first want to address The Ryan part of your ask. I was around in fandom during those days. It wasn’t pretty, but the way people talk about this now is a complete overreaction. The cast’s reaction to this event totally gets blown out of proportion. There was some tension for a while there, sure. Oliver deleted some of his tweets/Instagram posts that had to do with Ryan and then he unfollowed him.

But it was obvious that it didn’t take Oliver and the rest of the cast too long to move on. I’m pretty sure that, by the time the shooting arc came along, followed closely by the breaking down arc, Oliver and Ryan were on good terms again. Maybe not as close as they were before at that specific moment, but still on good terms. Both men are professionals and they did such a fantastic job when it came to those amazing scenes.

Now, don’t get me wrong, what Ryan said was inappropriate and disrespectful, I agree. However, the man apologised immediately and he has been working hard since then to become a better and lighter version of himself. And he has succeeded as we can all see how well he gets along with the entire cast and especially the POC in the cast that have completely moved past his mistake.

These days Ryan and Oliver are like two peas in a pod. They have always been close and they have always had insane chemistry, but ever since the beginning of season 7 it has all been ramped up. I’m one of the people convinced that they got the news that Buddie is finally happening. That they got the green light to go there. Which is something they have wanted for a long time now.

Now, second… as to Oliver not liking Lou? I’m afraid that I’m going to have to disagree with you on this one. I really do think that Oliver doesn’t like Lou all that much. If he was upset and angry over what Ryan said in one video a couple of years ago, I can only imagine his horrified reaction to all those terrible, disrespectful and inappropriate Instagram posts Lou made, for which he hasn’t apologised at all by the way. That interview he did with Lou also doesn’t help. Oliver wasn’t comfortable at all. His body language screamed: “I don’t want to be here.” And Lou just kept on talking about himself. I don’t know why Oliver was even there. BT was hardly even mentioned.

So, while I don’t think that Oliver would ask Tim to get rid of Lou, I only think he wouldn’t ask in function of the Buddie arc they are telling. If Tommy’s presence is necessary in that arc? Oliver will suck it up like the professional he is, because if there is one thing he wants more than anything for Buck, it’s Eddie. If Tim were to tell Oliver that he wanted to take the BT relationship further in any way, I do think he would protest and say ‘no’.

Oliver not promoting BT or Tommy has to do with the fact that he knows that Tommy isn’t sticking around as Buck’s love interest. Tommy is a plot device. He has always been a plot device. That is the way the show set him up. He is meant to have a purpose in the Buddie arc. What that purpose is? We don’t know. But it’s all there in the narrative for those who are willing to look at it logically and from a writer’s point of view.

A few seasons ago Oliver just stopped talking about Buddie. In some of his latest interviews he confessed that he stopped talking about them because he didn’t want to lead the fans on. He knew it would never happen under FOX. As soon as the show came into the hands of ABC, he started yapping about Buddie again. Him and Ryan were so vocal about them. It was clear that something had shifted. They knew that they were finally going there. Buddie was happening, but it would take some time to get there.

When they got renewed it was obvious that Tim decided to take his time for Buddie and put a temporary break on their development, so he could do it right in season 8. That didn’t stop him from putting them together in every other scene they were in. 😉

Now, like with all good slow burn couples there has to be a narrative foil. And in comes Tommy. Tommy who seems interested in Eddie. Buck who clearly gets jealous over the fact that Tommy is stealing Eddie (and Chris) from him. And then Tommy realising that he won’t get far with Eddie, but Buck (who is completely confused about his own emotions at this point) seems a little interested, so why not give it a go?

So, why is Oliver not talking about Tommy or engaging with anything BT while he still talks about Buddie and interacted with Buddie stuff up until the finale? Because he knows where the story is heading. History is repeating itself. Oliver doesn’t want to lead the BT fans on, so he simply doesn’t react or interact with anything Tommy or BT. And there is also the element that it is very clear right now that both Oliver and Ryan are actively rooting for Buddie and only Buddie. They know what their characters need. Love that for us! 😊

None of this is about headcanons by the way. It has been said -in words- time and time again, by Oliver himself (and Ryan as well) that he would love Buddie to happen, if it was written well. He shows it in everything he does on social media. Him and Ryan talked about reading fan fiction and watching video edits. I mean, he couldn’t make it anymore clear that he wants Buddie and not BT. So, this is not a headcanon. This is fact.

This is also not about parasocial relationships. We all like Oliver and Ryan, but most of us admire them from afar. We don’t go into their inboxes to message them or we don’t send them weird messages. I know that there are always some more outspoken fanatics in every fandom and the Buddie fandom is not an exception to that. It sadly cannot be avoided, but overall we have been pretty good as a fandom I would say.

That brings us to Lou and his army of goons…

Mind you, I’m not talking about the many normal and lovely sane BT fans and multi-shippers who genuinly like Tommy. Ship and let ship and all. Most of these fans fully realise that Tommy’s time on the show is probably limited. Anonymous OP shoutout!

I’m talking about the select few (the more outspoken and loud fandom fanatics I mentioned before) who accused Buddie fans of hacking one of their Twitter accounts and who thought it was a swell idea to DM Tim with a too long video about strings of fate (which Tim later admitted to never watching)  and ask him about Tommy’s age and other stuff. That is just crazy and a big no no in any fandom. Leave the show runners and actors alone. I don’t care who you ship. Just leave them alone.

The biggest problem is this: Lou made up a bunch of nonsensical headcanons about Tommy and BT that go against every single thing we have seen in canon so far. Canon has shown us, time and time again, that Tommy isn’t really interested in Buck for a loving relationship. Everything he says is reduced to sexual innuendo. And no, I am not a little quivering virgin lady who is afraid of sex and who doesn’t understand the dynamics between two adults in a sexual relationship. I am, in fact, an adult who has had sexual relationships and who knows exactly how relationships work between two adults in their thirties or forties.

Fully grown adults have paid hundreds of dollars to listen to Lou spout his nonsense. These people have all bought the same shirt Lou was wearing in one of his cameos. They call it the Louniform. These people believe every single thing that comes out of Lou’s mouth and take it as gospel. They have extensively hated on Ryan and Eddie. And lately they have even been hating on Oliver because he doesn’t support BT enough in their eyes.

Now that, THAT is a textbook example of a parasocial relationship with an actor.

They call the Buddie shippers ‘homophobic’ for not liking a character. I myself have received some asks in my inbox accusing me of being homophobic. I’m sorry, But WHAT? Look, I have never lied about not vibing with Tommy. I don’t like him as a character. I’m not hateful about it. I don’t spew my dislike for Tommy all over the BT tag or something like that. I just respectfully talk about how he isn’t right for Buck on my own personal blog. This is called ‘Having an opinion and sharing it.’

Tommy is just not my kind of guy at all. I don’t vibe with his demeanour and behaviour. I don’t think he is a good match for Buck. I don’t like the way he treats Buck. And yes! I am a Buddie shipper! So of course a part of why I don’t like him is rooted in the opinion that he is the wrong guy for Buck. But there is so much more to it than only that. Now all of this is not me being homophobic. It is just me being critical and actually using my brain to understand what the show is ultimately really trying to tell me: Tommy is a plot device and we are not supposed to like him!

I’m tired of being accused of something that I am not, over disliking a character that we aren’t even supposed to like in the first place. It’s crazy behaviour. It needs to stop!

Anyway, I’m sorry Nonny. I didn’t mean to end up venting like this on your ask, but it just happened. Now I’m the one being long winded. Sorry.😊 I’m not mad at you or anything like that. Don’t worry.

On the contrary, you helped me get some of these things out in a well written, but still respectful way. You got me writing about all of the fandom things that have been bugging me lately. I was on fire. So, in a weird way: Thank you for your assistance. ❤️

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter eleven: "The pieces this job takes"

Summary: The Reids welcome little Vinny, and Raven will have to deal with being a sister now. The team has to say good bye to a member, and Spencer will just have to deal with changes one more time.  Word count: 11.094 Warnings: This is a painful chapter for Spencer.  A/N: Sorry I couldn't post last week,  I had an accident (don't worry, I'm ok). I love Anderson's moment to shine in this chapter, and I hate putting Spencer through more trauma. Also, I was so sad writing Raven's tantrum... I totally understand her. 

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter

(Y/N)’s point of view 

Morgan took six months off after what happened to him. He had to recover mentally and physically, which was neither easy nor fast. I know some things happened to him he wasn’t sharing with us, not even with Savannah. He didn’t want to be a burden for her, and that’s a feeling I can absolutely understand.

We saw him a lot though, which was good. We were there for him the day he and Savanna got married in a beautiful ceremony, and he was there for us the day Vincent was born.

Considering the team was down two members, Hotch couldn’t let Spencer stay at Quantico the last couple of weeks before the baby’s due date. Of course, that means I was in the bullpen when my water broke.

Honestly, sometimes I wonder why we didn't leave the FBI sooner. I'm fully aware I keep saying the same the entire time, but it’s shocking how things were a hot mess and we never noticed. Why were we so blind?

I wanted to kill Hotch for forcing Spencer to go with the team to solve a case in Alabama when I was so close to my due date. I understood things were critical without Morgan on the team and with me not being able to fly. But yet, you’d expect some humanity. I guess sometimes work comes first for some people.

My water broke as I walked from Garcia’s office to my desk to pick up some files. I froze on my spot and didn’t know what to do for a few seconds. My mind went blank. That was not supposed to happen like that. Not with Spencer away. And definitely not in the middle of the office.

- “Anderson…”- I looked around me and found him at his desk, typing something.- “Sonny, can you help me?”

- “What happened, Reid?”- ever since I married Spencer, he has loved calling me by my new last name.

- “Uhm… can you come over?”

- “Give me a minute.”- and he kept typing, not even looking at me. I didn’t want to yell I was almost popping a baby right there, but my friend wasn’t giving me another chance.

- “I can’t wait. Please.”

- “Come on, Reid.”

- “Agent Grant Anderson, I need you. Now.”- a few other heads turned as my voice filled the bullpen. Anderson turned to me shocked, but I’m guessing my freaked-out face forced him to bite his tongue at whatever he was going to say and he rushed over to me.

- “What… oh shit.”- he looked at the puddle on the floor between my legs and understood it all in a second.

- “Yes.”- I cut him a short smile and took a deep breath. I had to do my best not to freak out too.

- “What now?”- Anderson whispered, remaining calm.

- “I need you to drive me to the hospital. Garcia is busy helping the team.”

- “Ok, do you wanna call Reid first?”

- “First, I wanna call my doctor. And I need to tell Garcia. Spencer is gonna freak out and there is no need to get him worried when this can still take a few more hours.”- I did my best to remain calm knowing as soon as Spencer knew what was happening, he was ditching the team and taking the first flight back home.

- “Ok, you wanna sit down while I get Garcia?”

- “I don’t wanna get the chair all dirty.”- I argued as Anderson moved a chair closer.

- “Don’t be silly, Reid. Sit down, I’ll bring Garcia and your phone so you can dial your doctor, ok?”- I simply nodded and watched him sprint across the office.

Raven took her sweet time when she was born, but not our Vincent. He was ready to take over the world in no time. Contractions hit me hard and I was worried my husband wasn’t going to make it on time to be with me during labor. Did I tell him? Of course not, I knew he was freaking out and I didn’t want to worry him anymore.

Spencer called me as soon as he could. I didn’t get to him the first time I dialed, so he got the news from Garcia when Anderson was taking me to the hospital.

- “I’m ok, honey. I promise.”- I whispered as soon as I heard his voice on the other side of the line.- “Doctor Feldmann is going to be waiting for me at the hospital, and Frank and Mikey are on their way over.”

- “I’ll ask Morgan to go too.”

- “He has his very own pregnant wife to take care of, hun.”- I reminded him, but I could almost see Spencer’s scowl all the way from Alabama.

- “I can’t believe I am not there with you.”

- “It might take a few more hours, so you’ll be ok. We’ll wait for you to start the fun part.”- I joked knowing there was no way I could predict that, but I needed to give Spencer some peace of mind.

- “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll call you when my flight arrives.”- I heard Spencer sigh at the other side of the line and my chest tightened knowing how bad he felt being away from me at that minute.

- “I love you so much honey bunny. Be safe, ok?”

- “I’m so sorry, chipmunk. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

- “I know. Please, take care.”

- “Ok, nugget. Your mom is on her way with Raven, I got you ice, and some marshmallows in case your sugar drops. I think we are covered. Do you have to start pushing already? Shit, I’m not ready for that. Please don’t start pushing yet.”- Frank rushed into my room, nearly hyperventilating. He paced across the room, clearly freaking out, as I stared at him, and the nurse raised an eyebrow.

- “Is he the dad?”

- “Nope-” I replied chuckling- “He is not even the godfather. Just my best friend.”

- “Basically I’m like a brother to you.”- Frank replied right away, and pretended to be shocked - “And I am not Vinny’s godfather? Are you serious? What are you talking about? I feel betrayed.”

- “I told you, it’s gonna be Mikey. You are Raven’s godfather. You can’t have all the kids.”

- “We are not having this conversation right now. You are clearly sedated.”- I chuckled and stared at my friend, who crossed his arms on his chest and looked at me from the end of my bed.

- “You do realize I haven’t gotten anything yet. I am not even…”- but a contraction stopped my words and ended that silly argument. Frank moved quickly to my side and held my hand tight. He didn’t even say a word, he just stared at me, obviously concerned, and waited until the pain had passed.

- “I’m so not having kids.”- he whispered after a few seconds, making me chuckle.

- “That’s ok, just can you check my vagina and see if I’m dilated already?”- I joked and saw the color leaving his face.- “I’m joking! Go out and wait for my mom. I’ll be fine.”

- “No way. I am not leaving you alone. I’m not getting anywhere near your vagina, but I am not leaving you alone until Spencer is here.”

And he didn’t leave. Frank stayed in my room until my husband got there, five hours later. Morgan, Mikey, and my mom kept me company too. They took Raven to get ice cream from the cafeteria and honestly helped me stay sane. Savannah, who was four months pregnant by then, and still dealing with all the nausea and morning sickness, helped keep me sane during the entire time. She was not only my friend, but also a doctor, and that always helped during delivery.

I will always be grateful for the family of friends we’ve created along the way.

Spencer’s point of view

It was a mess, nothing went as planned. I was in Alabama with the team and took the first flight back home. Garcia called me, nearly crying ‘cos she couldn’t go with my wife to the hospital, she had to work the case along with the team. I froze in place for a few seconds, not knowing what to do first.

- “Anderson is gonna drive her to the hospital. I'll be with her as soon as I can.”

- “I’m on my way.”- that was all I could say before I hung up and turned to Hotch.- “I have to leave. Now.”

Morgan, Frank, and Mikey had to take my place in the hospital while I was away. I nearly got into the pilot’s cabin and yelled at him to take us home faster if possible. Those were the longest four hours of my life, it was torture. I thought I was going to go crazy sitting there thinking my wife was alone in a hospital delivering our baby, and all because work forced me to be out of town.

When I finally got to the hospital, I rushed in flashing my FBI badge to everyone and anyone who could even think of trying to stop me. Am I proud of that? No. Do I regret it? Hell no! I just wanted to be with my wife as soon as possible, no matter what.

- “Reid!”- I heard Morgan’s voice as I rushed down the hall, trying to find the right room. He was with Savannah, Mikey, and Raven.

- “Dada!”- she escaped Mikey’s arms and ran to me. I squatted and opened my arms to hold her. - “Mommy said bad words.”

I chuckled at her comment and kissed her forehead as I stood up and walked toward our friends, who stood up as soon as they saw me.

- “I think today we can spare her a few bad words.”- I whispered into my daughter’s ear and heard her giggle.- “Guys, thank you for being here.”

- “Nothing to thank us for”- Morgan replied immediately- “You should put an eye on your pretty girl. She looked like she was about to pop your kid five minutes ago.”- I widened my eyes, gave Raven to Mikey, and ran to the room.

(Y/N) was squatting on a ball, holding her mother’s hand as Frank kneeled beside her, talking nonstop and looking honestly confused.

- “Oh thank god.”- he mouthered the second he saw me. I rushed in and held my wife tight. She grunted and shook in my arms. That’s when I realized how late I was.

- “I’m here, ma cherie. I’m here.”

- “I know. Vincent is almost here too.”- she whispered and didn’t let go. For a few minutes, it was just us holding each other. I wanted to ask her to forgive me for being so late, but words didn’t leave my lips. Instead, I just kept her close to me for a little longer.

- “I’m gonna get the nurse.”- Sofia said, probably to give us some privacy.

- “And I'm gonna leave this room before our friendship is forever scarred with gore scenes I will never be able to forget.”- Frank added and walked to the door.- “I’ll be out with the guys and my goddaughter.”

- “Thank you.”- that’s all I managed to say, but I’ve always been sure he understood the depth of my words. For a few minutes, it was just us. (Y/N) asked me to help her move to the bed, and I wrapped my arms around her to help her support the weight of her belly.

- “Did you tell Hotch I hate him for keeping you away?”- she muttered in the middle of what was clearly a very painful contraction.

- “Yes, I did.”

I did not. It wasn’t necessary, (Y/N) had made it clear before we left for the case that she was never going to forgive Hotch if the baby was born while I was out of town. The entire team knew it, my wife hadn’t been subtle at all. She stood next to the elevator's door before we left for the case, looked him in the eyes, and said: “If the baby is here and Spencer is still away, I won’t be back for work, ever again.”

- “Good.”- she whispered as I helped her sitting on the hospital bed.- “Honey Bunny, I think I’m ready to push.”

- “Wait just a few more minutes. Your mom is coming with the doctor.”

- “Shit, fuck, for Christ's sake! What shitted mother fucker thought this fuckery was in fact fair for women??!- my wife shouted every curse with such profound heart and pain, it was clear she needed more medication. Who knew when she had gotten her epidural.

- “You know, the first thing Raven told me when I got here was how you had said many bad words today.”- I whispered in her ear as I kept rubbing her back, trying to help her through the pain.

- “I fucking told Mikey to take her out, I didn’t want her to be traumatized and watch me losing it in pain.”- (Y/N) seemed mortified.

- “It’s ok, I told her you were allowed to curse a little today.”- Sofia and a nurse walked into the room, and a doctor followed them a few seconds after.

- “Ok Mrs. Reid, your baby boy seems to be ready.”- doctor Feldmann announced as he sat at the end of the bed and checked on my wife.

- “He feels ready as well.”- she mumbled, doing her best to be strong. I just scooped a little closer and held her a little tighter. I’ve never known what to do during delivery but praying and holding her hand tight. Being next to her while she delivers our babies is magical and agonizing at the same time. I will never love the process, not if I know she is going through an excruciating pain and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

It only took thirty minutes and Vincent Spencer Reid was there with us. His soft cries filled the room and my heart stopped. He was so small, so innocent, so vulnerable. Dr Feldmann placed him on (Y/N)’s chest and she caressed his back carefully, as the two of us stared at him with a loving smile on our lips.

- “Hello baby boy.”- she whispered and her voice shook as tears fell from her eyes.- “Aren’t you a pretty boy. My pretty boy.”

- “Hey there, Vincent. I’m your dad. Hello.”- I ran my fingers down his tiny arm and smiled at him.- “I hope you like baseball ‘cos it’s the only sport I’ve managed to learn so far.”

- “Maybe he’ll teach you, look at those hands, they are so big.”- (Y/N) whispered and touched his fist with her index - “Looks like the hand of a basketball player.”

- “Or maybe he’ll be an artist.”- I suggested and (Y/N) looked at me with a bigger smile.

- “I would love that.”- I stared into her eyes and caressed her cheek a few times, then ran my fingers up to her temples, and wiped a little of her sweat off before kissing her.

- “You did you good, ma cheriè. I’m so proud of you.”

- “I’m glad it went well and that he is here. Wanna go tell the rest?”

- “Not yet.”- I whispered and touched Vinny’s back one more time, enjoying the feeling of having my son there with me for the very first time - “Give me another minute of this.”

- “All the time you want.”- my wife answered and chuckled- “We have a son.”

- “We have a son.”- I smiled at those words and tears blurred my vision for a moment. I had a son, and he was perfect. Life was perfect.

Mikey stood up the second he saw me and his smile mimicked mine as I announced Vinny was there and that everything had gone well. He, Frank, and Morgan hugged me, tapping on my back, and congratulating me. Well, us. I smiled at them as I turned to Raven and opened my arms for her. She was cuddled in Sofia's arms and hesitated for a few seconds before moving toward me.

- “Come on birdy. Do you wanna see mommy and meet your brother?”- Sofia kissed her cheek and encouraged her to go with me, but she still wasn’t sure. I held her and kissed her cheek a few times before announcing.

- “(Y/N) said you guys can come in and say hi after Raven meets her brother. He really wanted to hang out with her first.”

- “Of course man.”- Morgan replied.- “Your baby boy has to meet his big sister first.”

- “I’m not big.”- Raven whispered.- “I’m a baby too.”

I should have seen that reaction coming, honestly. Raven hadn’t been excited during the first few months of (Y/N)’s pregnancy. She actually threw a massive tantrum the day we explained to her what was happening. It hadn’t been easy and Frank stepped up as her godfather and helped her see the benefits of having a little brother. However, we knew Raven would get jealous no matter how. And it was our job to show her nothing was going to change.

- “Baby girl, are you ready?”- I whispered as I held my daughter in my arms and started walking to the room. Raven hid her face on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around me very tight. I could almost feel her little heart beating hard inside her chest. It was a big day for her. The same as it was for us.

- “Hey birdy!”- (Y/N) whispered from her bed, where she sat, nursing Vincent.- “Vinny was just asking for you.”

Raven’s curiosity was bigger than her fear, clearly, ‘cos she slowly moved her face from my neck and turned to look at her brother.

- “Look, that’s your brother, Vincent.”- I sat next to (Y/N) and Raven moved in my arms, trying to get the closest look she could to her brother. She was silent judging the baby. I kept my eyes on her as she raised her little hand and carefully pressed a finger on his cheek.

- “He is so Squishy!”- Raven whispered and giggled.- “Vinny is squishy!!”

- “Yes, he is. And he is very tiny, are you gonna help us teach him all the fun things we do?”- my wife held Raven’s small hand and placed a kiss on it, making our daughter giggle one more time- “Like singing and playing and having tea parties?”

- “Can he wear a tiara?”- I tried not to chuckle at her question ‘cos she was incredibly serious about it.

- “If he wants to, of course.”

- “Don’t worry Birdy. We are still going out every Saturday morning on our dad and daughter dates.”

- “Just us?”- Raven looked at me and her little eyes shone with excitement.

- “Just us.”- I murmured and kissed the top of her head.

- “Do you wanna hold him?”- (Y/N) asked and Raven couldn’t believe it.

- “Yes Mommy!! Please!!”

- “Ok, sit here next to me.”- and as our daughter followed all the instructions my wife gave her and I placed a pillow on her small lap, I stared at the scene unraveling in front of me as I did my best not to cry, but tears kept filling my eyes. My daughter was now a big sister and was holding her little brother in her arms. I chuckled and locked eyes with (Y/N) for a moment. And as we smiled at each other, all I could think of was: I have two kids. Everything I do, I do it for my wife and our two kids.

You don’t know how that thought can change a person. The way it made me feel so much stronger and weaker at the same time. I would do anything for my family. I would fight the world to keep them safe. And at the same time, it petrified me knowing I was now living with my heart outside my chest. They were all I had, all I loved. My entire life.

I never thought I’d have a conversation about this a few months later, with Morgan, right after he came back to the team. We first had a surprise baby shower for him and Savannah in the meeting room. She was nearly on her due date and Morgan was clearly freaking out about becoming a dad, so we tried to help him relax a little and share a nice moment before a big case. (Y/N) was already back working, so she organized everything with Garcia and Savannah. Raven was in Playground and Sofia took care of Vincent while we worked, and though life was crazy, you could say we were managing.

We had a case that very same day that took us to Witchita, a double homicide and a child abduction. It hit differently when they were kids involved. To all of us now, but I’m guessing Morgan wasn’t ready to be back on the field and dealing with something like that.

We were in the police office, just us, going over some information while the rest of the team gathered a few things. I was going over some info, and Morgan seemed lost, sitting there, his mind and thoughts just weren’t in the room with us.

- “The glue our unsub used is sold practically everywhere, so we can't isolate the point of purchase.”- I pointed out as I read one of the files we had.- “A mineral analysis from the sand, however, indicates that it came from the Seneca River in upstate New York.”

Morgan didn’t reply. I doubt he even heard me. I kept my eyes on him as I straightened up and walked a little closer to him.

- “You ok?”

- “Yeah.”- he replied, but his eyes were so sad and concerned it was clear he was not, in fact, ok.

- “Morgan, we're gonna find the people who tried to kill you.”- I said as I sat on a chair in front of him, trying to reassure him that things were going to be ok. But that was not what clouded his mind, not that minute at least.

- “He was in his pajamas.”- he mumbled, staring at a point on the wall. He must have felt I wasn’t getting where he was going, ‘cos he quickly added. - “Ronnie Brewer. Out there by the side of the road, he was still in his pajamas.”

I looked at my hands and took a deep breath. That was a fact I knew, but I was trying my best not to overanalyze it. Not to imagine my kids in his place either. Not to lose it in the middle of an investigation. It’s hard to keep your head cold. You might think it gets easier with the years, but no. It only gets worse. The more you get involved in the cases, the more parts of you you give.

- “I'm sorry, kid.”- Morgan tried to justify his behavior.- “I, uh, I don't know, man. Six months on the sidelines. I guess I still have a few blisters where I used to have calluses.”

- “I don't think that's what this is.”- I say looking straight at his face with a short smile.

- “Oh, no?”- I shook my head when he stared at me confused - “Then what is it?”

- “You're about to be a dad. You know? You have to expect the world to start to feel different.

- “Did it happen to you?”

- “Of course. And it’s terrifying!”- I confessed and tried to be as honest as possible, ‘cos maybe that would help him relax a little. He sighed and held his head with one head for a minute, trying to focus and rearrange his thoughts.

- “It just feels so hard. Not as in difficult. Literally hard.”- Morgan started explaining how he felt. And it was something that I could definitely understand. - “Like asphalt is hard. Like pavement.”

- “And children are soft.”- I added, and the thought of Raven touching Vincent’s cheek saying how “squishy” he was filled my mind and my heart with love and fear. These two feelings that, apparently by rule, always came together in my life.

- “Yeah. Defenseless.”- Morgan added, mumbling under breath.

- “That's why every day we try to make this world a little safer.”- I said and tried to smile at him, though the frown on his face didn’t move.

- “How do you do it? You have two, you’ve seen the worst people can do.”

- “We are making a change, one day at a time. I will never look at the world the way I did before I was a father. But it helps knowing there are people like us, catching bad guys. I guess focusing on the good instead of the horror is what keeps me going.”

Morgan stared at me in silence, like analyzing everything I had just said. For the first time in my life, I felt like he was the one who needed my help. I was usually the one lost in a world with too many messages I couldn’t understand. And Morgan was the one helping me decoding them and teasing me about it.

But not this time.

- “If there's one thing I'm sure of, is that you and Savannah are going to be great parents.”- I added and smiled at him. Morgan chuckled and realized the position we were at. Me, giving him advice for once.

- “Charge by the hour, Doc?

- “Yeah, but you need to book your appointment at least two days ahead.”- I teased and my friend finally laughed. For the first time in what seemed to be years.

(Y/N)’s point of view

I tried to be rational. I swear. But after baby number two and going back to work, I hated how everything had changed. I could feel it around me, and I know Spencer felt it too, though I’m not sure if he felt it at the same level I did.

It was clear Morgan was leaving. I could feel it in my guts the second he walked back to the bullpen after those six months away, and I tried to prepare my husband for it. Change is part of life, that I can not change (see what I did there?). But that doesn’t mean we are always gonna love each one of the changes of ties that life sends our way. Derek had the right to start a new life, and the time felt right. It made me wonder, yet again, if leaving the BAU was the right path to follow. But at that time, it didn’t make as much sense as it does now. I guess I wasn’t ready to deal with everything that would unravel with time.

One of those things was so embarrassing I kept pushing it aside and failed. But it was so incredibly embarrassing, that I couldn’t tell anyone but Lu.

I was jealous. Seriously jealous. Of JJ.

At that time it was mainly because my stomach kept telling me there was something odd about how sometimes, especially during cases. She acted somehow territorial about Spencer. Like he was hers. That made no sense, obviously. He was my husband and only her friend. I wasn’t proud of how I felt, but a voice deep inside of me kept warning me about her attitude.

But instead of listening to my instinct, I tried to bury it. I excused my own brain, telling myself it was all because I had just had a baby and I was feeling insecure. Which was probably true, in part. But there was something about how JJ always found an excuse to be close to my husband that bothered me the second I came back to work after my maternity leave.

It didn’t really help that we were under similar conditions. Both had two kids and husbands on the field. A very demanding job, eyes for Spencer the entire time he was around. And it felt like she had her shit together, not like me, who struggled every day. Not JJ. She was fucking perfect. From her hair to her attitude and her outfits. There was no way she was a mother of two, her body was, for lack of a better word, perfect. I was filled with stretch marks underneath my clothes, making me feel incredibly self-conscious. I knew it was normal, I had two babies, my body was going to change, and Spencer seemed to be ok with that. But it felt unfair. JJ looked the same. I looked like a mom. I hated it.

- “You do realize you are being incredibly hormonal about this. Right?”- Lu suggested one afternoon when I managed to call her in between kids, cases, and house chores. Spencer had taken Raven to the store to get some things I needed to cook dinner, and Vinny was napping. So I called my friend as I started catching up with laundry.

- “Define being hormonal, please.”

- “You are not being rational, and you always keep your head cold, and this is so not you. Who cares about JJ? Spencer loves you!”

- “I know, but… she is so much better than me in every single fucking way. It’s annoying.”

- “That’s all in your head!”- I could basically hear my friend’s grin through the line. - “All this ‘cos you are no longer a size… what’s your size again?”

- “No! all this ‘cos I feel like a big fucking failure!”

- “How are you even failing? You do more in a day than Frankie does in a year.”- I tried not to chuckle at the comparison because I was trying to show her how upset I was.

- “I mean it, Lu! I know this is not a competition, but what if Spencer realizes I am a shitty wife, a lousy mother, and a sickening sight when naked.”

- “Aren’t you being silly? That man has loved you since before he could even start talking to you or even looking you in the eye. So stop it.”

- “He loved her first”

- “He had a silly crush on her before he met you. That’s it. You’ve always felt threatened by her. It’s not just now. And that’s because you can not believe something this good could happen to you. But it did, so be grateful and enjoy it.”- Lu gave a very compelling speech, I gotta admit. But one thing kept bothering me.

- “What if she is in fact in love with him and tries to do something?”

- “Then she is the most stupid FBI agent I’ve ever met.”

I remember chuckling at her response, thinking if JJ ever tried to make her move on my husband, not only I was going to go absolutely unsub with her, but probably Lu, my mom, and even Frank and Mikey could definitely bring her down.

But, much as I tried, things had changed. I could feel it. It was obvious even when nothing was happening at the bullpen. And it was clear the second Morgan came back to work. He wasn’t the same man that had left six months earlier. None of us were anymore.

The last case we worked with Morgan was the worst we had had since he had been kidnapped.

Savannah got shot. That day we were about to leave the bullpen when Garcia got the call. Spencer was talking with JJ as I grabbed all my things, already late to Raven’s school spring recital. Our daughter was so excited about the recital, her class was going to sing a song and she had practiced for weeks. She was confident she was good at it, and all she could talk about was how much she wanted to show her dad how well she and her friend were going to sing. It broke my heart to miss that show. I know it broke Spencer’s as well.

Pen rushed over, tears already falling down her cheeks, as she explained what had just happened. Morgan was at the hospital with Savannah. They were trying to save her and their baby. Things didn’t look good. In a second we were running to the elevator and Hotch drove us to the crime scene.

You don’t know how hard it is to call it a “crime scene” when it’s the place your friend was hurt. Hotch tried to keep Derek out of the investigation for obvious reasons, Morgan wasn’t in his right mind. None of us were, to be honest. But I knew keeping him out of the investigation was basically impossible. So I entered mode S.A.A Reid, and hid all my fears and worries, even my daughter’s deception (I knew I was going to deal with that later). I needed to help our friends.

I called my mom from the car. I tried to explain what had just happened and why we couldn’t be there with our daughter. We jumped out of the SUV as soon as we got there, Morgan was trying to cross the police line, looking like a madman. I heard him yelling “That’s my team” before JJ walked over and explained to the police he was in fact an FBI agent and not a psycho. I couldn’t blame him, I would look the same if my family had been hurt. I know I did when it happened. You see red when they hurt someone you love.

- “Tell me you got something.”- Morgan demanded, fire in his eyes as he spoke to us.

- “A casing and a rifle up on the roof.”- Rossi explained in a single line everything we knew.

- “This guy isn't sloppy. He's sending us a message.”- JJ added, but really didn’t say anything new. I turned to Morgan and held his hand for a moment, giving it a small squeeze, trying to comfort him. He was hot, and anger was running through his body as adrenaline kept him going.

- “Garcia, we need to access the surveillance footage.”- Hotch said and Pen nodded immediately.

- “Of course. I'm on it.”- and off she went.

- “What else we got?”- Morgan asked, and none of us said a thing. ‘Cause of course, after fifteen minutes, we didn’t have much to add.

- “That's it right now.”- Rossi sighed and shook his head

- “Where were you and Savannah standing?”- Spencer asked, first ‘cause Morgan was the only witness we had, and even under the stressful conditions he was under, he had to tell us what he saw. And second, ‘cos we had to keep him busy or that man was going to go crazy.

- “We were standing right over there on the side of my truck. We were just talking. She was to the back and I was facing her. I was the vulnerable one. I was the easy shot.”- Morgan finished that sentence screaming.

- “How's Savannah?”- I whispered, trying to calm him down.

- “She's in surgery.”- our friend’s voice was cracking, just like his strength. I grabbed his arms and pushed him with me to start walking.

- “Come on, let's check in. Rossi, are you coming?”- David nodded and started walking along with us.

- “You guys got this?”- Morgan asked and looked at the team. Spencer nodded and looked at me for a moment. He confessed sometime later that all he could think of that minute was that if that was me in the hospital, shot, he’d kill whoever was responsible for hurting me. I never forgot it 'cause I kept thinking the same thing.

We checked in at the hospital, where Rossi did most of the talking, and then we sat in a waiting room on the second floor.

- “Metro PD's gonna secure all the windows and have an officer placed in front of Savannah's room 24/7.”- David explained as Morgan walked and nodded, like a zombie.

- “Thanks.”- he mumbled though I know he didn’t process what Rossi had just said.

- “I got us a conference room down the hall to work in, and I'm getting access to the security cams right now.”- Penelope announced as she walked into the room, nearly hyperventilating.

- “Great. You two need coffee?”- Rossi offered

- “I’m good.”- Garcia replied immediately

- “No. Thanks.”- Morgan nearly bit Rossi’s head off as he replied. I couldn’t blame him, though, he was under stress, and he was going to be a nasty asshole until he knew Savannah was safe. Rossi looked at me and asked.

- “No cream, no sugar?”

- “Thank you.”- I whispered and cut him a short smile as he walked out of the waiting room.

- “Tara's donating blood in case Savannah needs more. It turns out they're the same type.”- Pen added as Morgan continued pacing across the room.

- “I’m a universal donor. I’m gonna sign up to donate for her as well.”- I said and turned around to leave. I knew Morgan well enough to leave him be for a moment. Now that he was in the waiting room, pacing and with Garcia, I could be useful somewhere else.

I was still signing papers when I heard Morgan storm out of the waiting room, smashing a pile of paper towels in a cart he found on his way down the hall. The nurses winced and I sighed as I grabbed my phone and read my husband’s text. Hotch had taken Morgan officially off the case.

- “Is he ok?”- Spencer texted me.

- “Nope. Stormed out. I’m donating blood for Savannah.”- I quickly replied. A nurse asked me to follow her to another room and got me ready to

- “Looking at the footage with JJ in the conference room.”- my stomach tightened at the thought of him and JJ being alone. But we were at work, and doing something incredibly important and personal. There was no time for jealousy.

- “I’ll be there in a second.”- I replied and put my phone back into my pocket. The nurse asked me to raise my sleeve, and for a couple of minutes, all I could do was pray for Savannah’s health.

- “So if security footage has no angles of the shooting or the rooftop, where does that leave us?”- Rossi asked as we all stood around the table, trying to find something new to call a clue that might lead us to the shooter.

- “We're running facial recognition on everyone in and around the hospital to see if they match any loose ends from Morgan's abduction.”- JJ announced as I sipped on my coffee. Hotch walked into the room that second. It had taken him an extra fifteen minutes to get there after I was done donating blood, which only meant one thing: whatever Morgan had said to him, got to him.

- “How did he take it?”- Spencer asked what we all knew had happened. Hotch’d face didn’t move when he simply replied

- “As expected.”- and that was all we talked about our friend’s emotional tantrum.

- “Sir, I know that when Morgan was on leave after his abduction, you encouraged him to stay away from the case.”- Garcia started explaining what we had all done behind Hotch and Rossi’s back.

- “And let me guess, he didn't.”- David interrupted her, and we all shook our heads.

- “We all knew in our hearts it wasn't over, and, look, we were right, so in an extra-curricular kind of way we kept sleuthing to see who was working with John Bradley.”- Garcia explained and I looked at Rossi with a shy and almost innocent smile.

- “Everyone needs a hobby, right?”

- “You of all people here have enough going on in her end to add more to her table.”- Rossi argued and Spencer frowned.

- “I helped her.”

- “Getting her pregnant again isn’t helping.”- David joked, and Hotch ignored us as he started talking.

- “Before he came back to work, Morgan said that he'd found a connection between the men who held him at the cabin and the Montolo family.”- Hotch added, looking at Rossi, who seemed lost. Like he never saw coming the fact none of us was going to let Morgan’s kidnap go.

- “Right. So, basically, we're dealing with a big crime family tree, of which Bradley was certainly a branch. And the Montolos had hired him multiple times.”- Garcia added, simply explaining we were obsessed with his case.

- “Did you scan the drawing?”- I asked her and she nodded.

- “Yeah, it's right here.”- at those words, Spencer leaned closer to look at the screen with me.

- “So, has everyone been working on this?”- Rossie asked, surprised.

- “Yeah.”- I said not taking my eyes from the screen.

- “Basically.”- my husband supported me.

- “Kinda.”- Pen added with a shy/busted smile and then she started explaining what we had. - “Ok, with Morgan's research, plus our bad guys/gals tree here, we've cut all the legs off the evil table. So like look… you got assassin mother, father, siblings, all deceased, one aunt in therapy for family trauma, and each line is like that.”

- “Montolo's line's the shortest of them all.”- Spencer pointed out - “The only living child of Chazz and Rosemary Montolo. Rosemary died when Giuseppe was just a boy.”

- “When you thought your family was fucked up…”- I shook my head at my own words, trying to ease the mood ‘cos for the life of me, I can’t deal with so much gravity from time to time.

- “Right. And then Giuseppe went to live with his family in Italy, and Chazz went off to build a criminal empire.”- Pen added. Rossi walked to me and grabbed one of the files.

- “Looks like Chazz Montolo was killed last year.”

- “Yeah, in a bank fire in Germany. Got a positive I.D. On the dental and fingerprints.”- Pen even showed him the newspaper of the fire.

- “One week after his son was murdered. What if that's not a coincidence?”

- “So whoever poisoned the son also killed the father.”- JJ suggested, but I shook my head, reading Hotch’s mind.

- “Or he staged his own death so we wouldn't suspect him of this.”- I said and felt Spencer’s hand resting on my lower back as I spoke, supporting and comforting me.

- “Hey, wait, wait, wait.”- Pen suddenly freaked out and started typing as fast as she could- “I only ran facial recognition on living people for obvious reasons, but this guy right here, walking out of the hospital, this guy, that is… That's Chazz Montolo.”

- “Well done, ma cherie.”- Spencer whispered in my ear and I turned to smile at him for a fraction of a second. We were finally going somewhere.

- “Garcia, play the footage.”- Hotch asked, and a few seconds later, we were all able to watch Montolo senior walking out of the hospital.

- “Mother fucker.”- I whispered thinking that asshole had been there with us in the building.

- “Garcia, contact the city, get access to traffic cameras. Now that we know he's here, we can find out where he went.”- but her phone ringing freaked her out before she could do anything.

- “Oh, wait, Morgan's calling me. I told him I'd keep him in the know before I knew it was an order that he wasn't supposed to know.”

- “All right.”- Hotch sighed and looked at me and my husband. - “Reids, you talk to Morgan. JJ, you and Garcia track Montolo and find out who his accomplices are. He doesn't work alone. Dave, you and I will find potential witnesses who might have seen him on the property.”

And before we could even argue or plan what we were going to tell our friend, we were forced to move and face him.

- “Wait, wait.”- I grab my husband’s sleeve and stop him- “We should get him something.”

- “I don’t think he is hungry.”- Spencer raised an eyebrow as he stared at me.

- “Still. Maybe something to drink to warm him.”

- “You wanna stress him more by adding caffeine to his body?”- he questioned me.

- “Hot chocolate?”

- “He will throw it on our faces.”- Spencer was probably right, but he could read my worry.- “Green tea?”- I nodded and walked to the closest vending machine.

- “Raven must be so angry with us.”- I whispered as I pushed a few buttons on the machine, and a cup with some suspicious-looking tea appeared in front of our eyes.

- “I know.”

- “We are gonna have to deal with her when we get home.”

- “I know…”- Spencer sighed and rubbed his hands against his face, trying to rearrange his thoughts. - "I really can’t deal with that right now.”

- “I know, I’m sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about her and Vinny, and if any of this happened to them, or you.”

- “I understand, ma cherie. So much.”- Spencer moved a step closer and kissed the top of my head.- “But right now we have to focus on helping Morgan. Ok’”- I just nodded and grabbed the cup of tea.

- “Ok.”- I looked at my husband and took a deep breath. I know he was doing his best to keep his head cold and focus on the case- “Alright, let’s do this.”

Morgan was back in the waiting room. He kept pacing, still looking like a madman. But now he was an angry madman. Angry with us ‘cos he knew we were keeping things from him.

- “Were you with Garcia?”- he asked as soon as we walked in.

- “Yeah.”- I replied and tried to smile at him, to maybe calm him down, or make him feel less threatened- “Here, we brought you a green tea.”

- “It won't make you as jittery as coffee.”- Spencer offered the cup to our friend and he grabbed it, but not without reading every single movement the two of us made. It was annoying, Frank was right.

- “You came instead of Garcia because you know I'd be able to read her.”- Morgan didn’t ask, it was a fact.

- “That is correct.”- Spencer nodded and whispered.

- “And Hotch sent you both here to see if I'm stable.”

- “He didn't say that, but…”- my husband made a pause and I just sighed.

- “Let’s say we were the chosen ones ‘cos Hotch trusted we could read you, and if you were too angry at him, we wouldn’t take it personally in case you’d yell.”- I couldn’t lie to Morgan, so I didn’t. He nodded and didn’t even try to say he wouldn’t yell. It felt good to know we were above that bullshit.

- “I don't get jittery.”- of everything we said, that was what Morgan wanted to point out. Why? I don’t know. Maybe that was an insult in his mind. He moved to the other corner of the room and left the tea on a little table Food, he wasn’t going to throw it in our faces.

- “Usually you don't, but your carotid tells a different story.”- Spencer started rambling- “I've counted 10 heartbeats in the last 3 seconds. That's about 20% higher than your usual when you're under stress.”- his voice was soft and almost shaky. My husband was nervous and worried. Scared.

- “I know you're only trying to protect me, I get it, but knock it off.”- Morgan nearly yelled, annoyed with his speech- “I just want to know what you've learned.”

- “Seriously, Derek. You know we can’t tell you.”- I sighed and shook my head.- “So don’t take it with us. We are just trying to help.”

- “If you were trying to help you’d tell me what the hell is going on”

- “We are doing our fucking best. That’s what’s going on.”

I know we didn’t plan it, but Spencer and I were doing the old “good cop, bad cop routine.” And I was the bad cop. Again.

- “When you first told me about Savannah, I'd never seen you like that.”- my husband started talking and his voice was still soft and sweet, trying to keep it together. - “The decreased levels of central serotonin in your brain cause intrusive thinking. When I finally saw you guys together, that's when I knew for sure. Your pupils dilated, your posture changed, and I saw you involuntarily reach for her hand. Science confirmed it. You've found the one.”- Morgan stared at him, speechless. - “Do you believe that?”

- “Yes.”- Derek replied, not an inch of hesitation in his voice.

- “Then believe this. Our team loves you, and we are not going to stop until we find whoever did this. But we can only do that with a completely dispassionate and unprejudiced point of view. Paternal instinct is a deadly bias that we just can't risk. It's for your protection, Morgan, I swear.”

- “Ok.” - Derek answered coldly, though you could almost hear the cogs in his brain going a hundred miles an hour.

- “You would do it for us, wouldn’t you?”- I asked him, and Morgan raised both eyebrows- “If we were you and you were us, you would try to keep us away from the information. Try to keep us calm. We did it with Kate when her niece was taken. Hotch and JJ did it for us when he pretended Em was dead. We did it for Garcia when the Dirty Dozen was trying to kill her. We’ve all done it. ‘Cos that’s what families do, they protect each other.”

- “The unsub is a father, isn't he?”- Morgan ignored my speech and looked right into Spencer’s eyes.

- “Why do you say that?”- my husband lied between his teeth as Morgan analyzed every single one of our movements.

- “A paternal instinct is a deadly bias? Those were your exact words.”

- “I meant… we are both fathers…”- Spencer was nearly sweating and I didn’t know how to help him.

- “I know what you meant. But that's what you said.”- Morgan stared at us, and neither of us said another word. So he simply walked away from us.

- “Shit, shit, shit.”- Spencer whispered and closed his eyes.

- “It’s ok, honey. We both knew it wasn’t going to be easy. And we would be the same under these sick circumstances.”

- “I know, I just…”- Spencer bit his lips as tears filled his eyes.- “I wish there was more we could do. He doesn’t deserve this.”

- “Who does?”- I held his hand and gave it a soft squeeze.- “You did well. It’s just hard keeping things from a profiler.”

- “He is my brother. And someone hurt his unborn child and wife. And all I can do is tell him things will be ok.”

- “We can help him, but he has to trust us.”- my phone ended our conversation. It was my mom, which only meant one thing: Raven’s presentation was over. And she knew we weren’t there.

- “Hello?”- I whispered and closed my eyes.

- “Mama…”- it was worse than my mom. It was Raven.

- “Hey there, birdy. How was the recital? Did you have fun?”- Spencer moved closer and I put our daughter on speaker. - “I’m with your dad at work. We are both so sorry we couldn’t be there today, Raven.”

- “Emma says I don’t have a mom or a dad.”- Raven was crying, and my heart broke as soon as I heard her.

- “What? Why?”- I knew Emma, she was three and a half years old, but that night, I wanted to kill that brat. I’m not proud about it.

- “You are never there.”- Raven wept and all I managed to do was hold Spencer’s hand as I turned to him. His tears ran down his face as he tried to get himself together.

- “I’m so sorry, Birdy. But we have to get the bad guys.”- my voice shook at the end of the sentence.

- “Why is it always you? Why can't Uncle Derek do it?”

- “Oh, Birdy”- Spencer mumbled and took a deep breath, trying to get himself together.- “We are helping Uncle Morgan right now get the bad guys.”

- “I just wanted to sing for you.”- Raven kept sobbing. - “Why don’t you love me?”

- “Raven Marie, we love you so much.”- I managed to say before I broke into tears. I hid my face in Spencer’s chest as he continued talking.

- “Your mom and I are very sorry we couldn’t be there today. We promise we’ll make it up to you.”- Raven didn’t reply, instead we heard my mother’s voice on the other side of the line.

- “I’m sorry kids. She wanted to talk to you.”

- “Thank you for taking care of her, Sofia.”- Spencer managed to say. I know he was trying to be strong, but honestly, both our hearts were broken.

- “Frank and Milkey came along. We are having ice cream and then I’m gonna take her home.”

- “We’ll pick her up as soon as we are done here.”- Spencer added.

- “Take care, kids. I know you are doing the best you can. And she will see that when she is old enough.”

- “Thank you, mom.”- I whispered and tried not to sob too hard.- “We’ll call you later, ok?”

- “Sure, peanut. Love you.”- I couldn’t talk anymore. I just broke into tears one more time as Spencer hung up and placed the phone in my pocket.

- “It’s ok, ma cherié”

- “It’s not ok. This is what I always hated about my dad’s job. This is what I swore to myself at ten years old I was never going to put my babies through!”- I sobbed against his sweater, feeling like the worst mother on earth. The sound of Raven’s cries on the other side of the phone had been way too much for me to deal with, especially considering what was going on.

- “This is wrong.”- I murmured and tried to put myself together. - “We don’t have time for this now. Derek needs us.”

- “It’s gonna be ok.” Spencer whispered as he wrapped his arms around me tightly. - “We are not going to miss any more recitals. And she is going to forgive us. She knows we are doing this to help other people.”

- “Spencer, she is about to be four, she doesn’t have to understand this. She needs her dad and mom.”- my husband kissed the top of my head and sighed.

Spencer’s point of view

The night Morgan became a dad was the night I understood he was going to leave us. My wife had pointed it out a few times before that, trying to prepare me for that moment, but I didn’t want to believe it. I thought we were going to be a team forever. But he had a new team. One that was more important than anything else.

It made me feel I was a lousy father for a moment. He was quitting to make sure his wife and kid were alright. It was something I had thought of many times until that day, but I had never found the guts to do it. I couldn’t blame him, though. He had been through hell and back.

Meanwhile, I kept overanalyzing everything that had happened that day, hell was waiting for us when we picked up our kids from Sofia’s house. Raven had refused to sleep and also refused to talk to us. Vinny was fast asleep when (Y/N) held him in her arms and kissed his forehead. Sofia offered us something to eat, but we just wanted to get home and get some rest. It had been an eternal day, and seeing our daughter’s teary eyes and hardened face made it even worse.

- “I don’t wanna.”- she argued right away as I tried to pick her up. Raven kept fidgeting every time my hands tried to reach her.

- “Come on, baby. We have to go home. Don’t you wanna go to bed? We can have a special breakfast tomorrow.”- I offered her, but she hid behind Sofia and started whimpering.

- “No! I don’t love you!”

- “Birdy, you don’t mean that.”- I whispered as I knelt closer to her. She stayed behind Sofia’s legs and refused to even look at me. Her eyes were filled with tears and I could see her struggling to both stay awake and not to cry. It was heartbreaking.

- “Raven Marie, we talked about this.”- Sofia moved and took my daughter in her arms carefully.- “Your mom and dad had to work tonight and they couldn’t go to your recital, but they still love you very much.”

But our daughter ignored my words, (Y/N)’s words, and her grandma’s words. Instead, she decided to give us the silent treatment and ignore us all the way back home.

(Y/N) made us some tea after she put Vinny in his crib, and I was struggling with Raven’s bedtime. She didn’t speak but refused to brush her teeth and put on her pajamas.

- “Birdy, I know you are upset. And you have all the right to be mad at me and your mom.”- I whispered as I sat on her bed and put my hands on her shoulders, trying to make sure she was paying me attention.- “But you have to know your momma and I were helping Uncle Derek. No one is more important than you, but when someone needs our help, we can’t turn our back on them.”

Raven refused to look at me, but at least she got into bed. I read her a short bedtime story, kissed her cheek, and wished her a good night before I left the room.

- “How is she?”- my wife asked as I walked into our room. She was already in bed, sipping her lavender tea.

- “Still angry.”- I untied my tie, left it on a chair, and unbuttoned my shirt before falling on our bed.- “She didn’t say a word.”

- “And she is just three… I don’t wanna think of our lives when our girl is a teenager.”- (Y/N) cut me a short mile, but it was clear she was trying to make lights off of what was happening.

- “I’m glad we still have a few more years until then, ma cheriè.”

We both stayed quiet for a moment. I grabbed the cup of herbal tea my wife had left on my bedside table and took a long sip.

- “Am I a bad mother?”- her whisper broke the silence and made me whip my head immediately.

- “You are not. Of course, you are not.”- I held her hand and kissed it, as tears fell from her cheeks.

- “We broke her heart, and she is three years old.”

- “She will forgive us.”

- “But how do I forgive myself?”- my wife broke into tears and I wrapped my arms around her, sitting her on my lap. I wanted to be strong for her, I wanted to find the right words to make her feel better. But I had nothing, ‘cos honestly, I was feeling very low.

- “Maybe we should quit.”- it was the first time one of us had said it out loud. I froze at her words. I didn’t see it coming. But my wife had been brave enough to say the words that had haunted my mind so many times.

- “Quit?”- I asked, half shocked, half confused. - “Morgan is gonna leave, what will do the team without us?”

- “What will our kids do without us?”

And I didn’t know what to reply to that.

- “Mommy…”- Raven’s voice ended that conversation, or the start of it. She stood at our door holding the stuffed unicorn Mikey had given her.

- “What is it, birdy?”- (Y/N) asked, sitting on our bed, whipping the tears from her face quickly.- “Did you have a bad dream?”

Raven shook her head as she walked slowly toward the bed. Her big brown eyes were filled with tears, and she kept biting her lower lip, the same way her mother always does when she is nervous.

- “Do you wanna sleep with us tonight, birdy?”- (Y/N) whispered and tapped on the bed. Our daughter nodded but didn’t move from the spot she was standing at. My wife stood up and took a few steps until she stood in front of Raven, kneeled, and opened her arms to our daughter, who nearly ran to her and wrapped her arms around her neck, sobbing.

- “I’m sorry mommy”

- “It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry too.”

It was such a moving scene tears fell from my eyes as I stared at my wife and daughter hugging as they lay on our bed. I scooted closer to them and wrapped an arm around them, kissing Raven’s cheek and (Y/N)’s temple.

- “Your mommy and I love you so much.”- I whispered and watched our daughter sob a few times before she fell asleep on (Y/N)’s warm chest.

Neither of us said another word after that. We just laid with her on our bed, Vinny sleeping peacefully on his crib near us. I wanted to put a bubble around us all and never let anything hurt us.

I didn’t know it back then, but the only way I could do that was by quitting the BAU.

The following week, Morgan came back to the BAU for the last time. We all knew he was leaving, Hotch had told us. But it was still hard for all of us to deal with what it meant losing him in our team. In our daily basics.

When we walked to the bullpen’s door, I saw Morgan hugging JJ and I knew what was happening next. I knew he was there to say goodbye. It was going to be our last time there, and I didn’t feel I was ready to face it. So I left (Y/N) standing there alone and ran away to the meeting room.

Chicken much? Yeah, I know. But everyone knows I am not a fan of changes, and that day was especially hard for me. I was losing my brother. It wasn’t just another profiler leaving. It was my best friend we were talking about. And I was happy for him, of course I was. He got everything he ever wanted. It was just hard dealing with the guilt of not being as brave as him and doing the same for my family.

But of course, I wasn’t ready to deal with that truth just yet.

- “I know you hate goodbyes kid. And change.”- Morgan found me and walked into the room, facing the issue upfront. I wasn’t expecting anything less from him. I turned to face him, my eyes already filling with tears, and he cut me a warm smile, knowing how hard it was for me.

- “Hey. It isn't always a bad thing.”- he added- “And you’ve been getting better at dealing with changes. At least with changing diapers.”- I chuckle at those words. I liked the fact we could keep that conversation closer to the fun side because it was too painful to deal with.

- “You are gonna be better.”- I whispered and he smiled.

- “Only ‘cos I learned from the best.”- Morgan added and we both stayed in silence for a few seconds. Everything about saying goodbye to my best friend hurt. So I sighed loudly and finally accepted the truth.

- “I just can't imagine this room without you.”

- “So don't. Don't think about it.”- Morgan quickly answered, still smiling. - “Just know I'm always gonna be by your side. I'm just a phone call away.”

- “I know. Raven won’t let you go either. She loves Sunday brunch with you and Savannah.”- we both smiled for a moment, but tears quickly threatened to fall again.

- “I'm sorry I can't stay.”- Morgan apologized and I shook my head right away.

- “I don't want you to stay.”- I quickly replied thinking I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay either, but I also wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet.- “Because I know why you're leaving and I couldn't be happier for you.”- I simply looked at him with a smile, because I honestly didn’t want him to feel guilty about leaving. Still, his eyes watered up as he took a step closer and grabbed something from his back pocket

- “Listen, we were gonna mail these, but I wanted you to have a birth announcement first.”- he opened the envelope and handed the announcement. I didn’t know what to say or how to react to it. So I just read it out loud, feeling a knot in my throat.

- “Hank Spencer Morgan.”- my voice broke as I stared at the picture of baby Hank in my hands. I couldn’t stop smiling as I looked at it. It was the sweetest gesture. It was more than I deserved. My best friend had named his baby after me. What had I done in life to deserve that much love from him?

- “Yeah. Hank is for my pops. But Spencer is for the best little brother anybody could ever ask for.”- his words were too much, and before I knew it I was sobbing. Morgan wrapped his arms around me and tapped on my back as he whispered.

- “I love you, kid.”

- “I love you.”- I replied knowing he was doing the right thing. It was just too painful to deal with how it felt at the moment. But it was meant to happen.

- “So, look, my little dude, he's gonna need a favorite uncle. To teach him everything he knows about life. And chess.”- Morgan chuckled at his words and I nodded smiling.

- “I can do that.”

- “I know you can.”

- “Which reminds me, I’m gonna need you to teach me how to play soccer, so I can teach Vinny eventually.”- my answer made him laugh.

It was comforting knowing Morgan was leaving the team, but he wasn’t leaving my life. That was a big change. We weren’t going to stop meeting, he wasn’t walking out of my life. He was just taking a step back from work and focusing on his family. The

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

A drabble of Tfp Prime switching place with his Tfa counterpart over a bridge mishap?

Optimus had experienced his fair share of odd situations throughout his life. That was only natural when you were the leader of the autobots and had lived as long as he had. He had battled space monsters, shapeshifters, old gods, undead.

But he had to admit that interdimensional travel was a first for him.

At least he could feel at ease knowing that he had landed among friends, even if they were a tad different from the versions he knew.

"You're so tall!" the human girl, Sari, exclaimed with awe, eyes shining as she craned her neck to look at him. With her pigtails and excited personality she reminded Optimus a lot of Miko.

The Bumblebee of this dimension did not appear as impressed. He crossed his arms with a humpf and glared at Optimus with critical optics. "Well, he's probably super slow, slower than a snail!"

"I bet he's super strong too..." Other Bulkhead murmured, decidedly more impressed. He stared at Optimus' arms dreamily.

"He's got a strong spiritual presence, that's for sure," the two-wheeler designated Prowl commented. His optics focused on Optimus chestplates, leaning in closer. "And there's something else. It almost feels like-"

"Would people get out of my medbay!?" Ratchet, who appeared to be just as high strung as the one in his own dimension, interrupted. He waved around a datapad like Wheeljack with one of his swords. "We don't know what kind of viruses his world have and if we're susceptible to them! We could have a potential pandemic on our servos!"

"Viruses!?" Bumblebee stomped his pede and pointed an accusing digit at Optimus. "You guys see? This bot is nothing but trouble! I say we send him back to wherever he came from as soon as possible and get our own Optimus back!"

Bulkhead piped up. "That might be more difficult than you think, Bumblebee. You see, he portal that brought him here was due to a space bridge malfunction that quite frankly had a one in 3 billion chance of happening and even if we were to find a way to replicate this we'd also have to find a way to get his dimension do the same thing on their end."

Optimus cocked his head, intrigued. "Do you know a lot about space bridge technology, Bulkhead?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess I know some things," he responded, meekly. He fidgeted with his servos, not quite daring to look Optimus in the optics.

Ratchet interjected. "Don't sell yourself short now," he chided, giving Bulkhead a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Bulkhead here is the foremost expert of space bridge technology. Ain't no bot that knows more about the stuff than he does."

Hearing this, Optimus smiled. "That's incredible! While the Bulkhead I know is a brilliant mech in his own right he does not possess such expertise in space bridges. How brilliant!"

At this, Bulkhead finally managed to meet Optimus' optics. There was a faint blush on his faceplates. "Really? I'm not really all that- Uh, I mean, what's your Bulkhead like?"

Optimus' smile grew fonder. "He's one of the bravest mechs I've ever had the honor of knowing. The only thing that can compare to his immense strength is his kindness." Gazing down at the young bot in front of him, he placed his servo on the his shoulder. "The two of you are appear very much alike, in that regard."

Bulkhead's blush grew in intensity, his optics becoming round like saucers, flickering from Optimus' face to where his servo was on his shoulder back to his face. "Oh geez, I don't know what to, oh stars-"

"What about Bumblebee?" Sari suddenly asked, clambering on top of some barrels to be seen. "When you first appeared you said you had a Bumblebee in your universe as well, right?"

Bumblebee, this universe's version, crossed his arms again. "Whatever kind of person he is, he can't be faster, or more handsome, than me!" He paused. "But yeah, what about him?"

Optimus laughed. "There's no way I can praise him enough. Bumblebee is a true hero, through and through, and he's saved my life more times than I can count."

At this, Bumblebee visibly preened. "Oh yeah? Sounds kinda like me then. You know, I've also saved our Optimus' life a couple of times already." He jabbed a thumb at his chest. "Some call me a hero too."

"I don't doubt it," Optimus replied and somehow Bumblebee managed to puff out his chest even more.

"Yeah, well, why don't you tell me some more about my other dimensional counterpart and my- I mean his, heroic deeds? Just so we can compare notes."

Ratched sighed loudly and dragged a palm down his face. "Great, just what we need, Bumblebee getting yet another ego boost."

Prowl leaned in closer to the medic. "At least he's not openly hostile towards our visitor anymore." The corner of his mouth twitched. "He got so mad when this Optimus asked him if he wasn't too young to be an autobot when they first met."

Ratchet couldn't help but snort. "That alone made all of this worth it. Sigh, I just hope our Optimus is alright."

---------In another dimension---------

"What do you mean I'm the leader of the autobots? Ultra Magnus is right there! What even is a Matrix? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M THE CHOSEN OF GOD?????"

[chaifootsteps]

Hey I saw someone on Twitter saying you’re transphobic because it said in your Twitter bio “IDW Arcee is still a guy” even though the character is canonically trans. What’s your take on that? I’m not attacking you or anything I just genuinely want to know the context of all that.

Oh boy. Strap yourselves in kids; time for Chai's villain origin story.

So basically, IDW Arcee made his debut under the pen of Simon Furman, the dude who created Arcee in the first place. Simon Furman has a small massive chip on his shoulder over the notion of girl robots, but we're going to be talking in mostly Watsonian terms for now. IDW Arcee as he comes on the scene in Spotlight Arcee is the victim of a nonconsensual forced sex reassignment, we see right off the bat that this destroyed his life.

He's wracked with trauma and dysphoria over this, on a do-or-die quest to take out the mad scientist who did it (he succeeds and tortures said scientist for seven years straight), and is implied to suffer chronic pain.

This got a lot of criticism, but Simon Furman insisted it wasn't meant to be transphobic, just the opposite. When someone pointed out that this was a story about how traumatic it was to be assigned a gender you didn't feel was the one you should have, Furman agreed with this take.

Eventually Furman was shooed out and John Barber was brought in as writer, and nobody seemed to know how to deal with Arcee's backstory. So they just kind of...didn't. They wrote around it for eight whole years, never really acknowledging it, but frequently alluding to how traumatized he was from it. The only person to ever roll up their sleeves and tackle it head on was Mairghread Scott, the only person IMO to ever do justice to IDW Arcee.

By the way, this panel made me weep. This issue also includes a fleeting, but notable moment where someone refers to Arcee with they/them pronouns, and at the time, I was extremely excited for this.

Shortly after this however, the comic came to an end and John Barber decided -- in the very last issue -- to bring in an expert. And by this, I mean he found some trans lady on Twitter and let her write Arcee. The last issue has Arcee concluding that the whole sex change was consensual and the violent murder spree was the result of, I quote, "bad meds."

Yeah, basically Arcee killed all those people because the Spiro was a little off.

I got into a lot of internet fights with people over this back in the day, criticizing it for being worse than what we started with, but also frequently pointing out that it wasn't Twitter lady's fault, as she wasn't the editor-in-chief at IDW and that there's a very good reason professional writers aren't supposed to do this sort of thing. In return, I got accused of hating trans women and still get some real ugly things in the inbox about it to this day. It was the first taste, bitter as wormwood, of what I as a trans man could expect from my own community.

Regardless of all that, Arcee is probably the most important fictional character to ever enter my life. He helped me realize I was trans, got me through some dark days, got me through heartbreak and top surgery. He saved my life a few times, and every so often he continues to. I owe so much to him.

If writing a very gentle fix-it fic where Arcee has a long talk with Anode (one of the trans lesbian bots from the vastly superior sister series James Roberts wrote) makes me a transphobe in these peoples' eyes, so be it. I don't care what they think. They never reached out to baby trans Chai and held his hand and kept him breathing.

Arcee did.