#i hope Spencer Johnson is also in it

[fazcinatingblog]

Finding out Joseph Anthony Burns is an Italian makes me love him even more than I ever thought possible

[shewroteaworld]

Unsub Bait

Premise: For the fourth time, brilliant sunshine!reader is asked to bait the unsub. For the first time, Spencer has a problem with this.

Word count: approx. 2,000

Tw: canon-typical discussions of violence

Author's Note: Welcome to the second installment of brilliant sunshine!reader (meaning highly intelligent sunshine!reader) x Spencer Reid! While you don't have to read my first brilliant sunshine! reader fic to understand this one, I would highly recommend reading it. It's titled "I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't." Hope you enjoy! :) <3

“Here’s an overview of the first phase of the operation: (Y/N) will go undercover as a college student at Yale. She’ll get acquainted with the unsub at Speakeasy, the New Haven bar where he assesses potential victims. We’ll apprehend him in the act of attempted kidnapping.” Hotchner listed for the team.

You’d played unsub lure almost a comical number of times. Once? That’s a once in a million task required to capture a once in a million unsub. Twice? You’d only have two nickels, but it’s weird that it happened twice, right? But four times? 

You’d already joked to Hotch that you should add “professional unsub bait” to your resume. 

It would’ve been more comical if it wasn’t so scary. 

You took a deep breath as you stared at the photos of the victims on the mahogany conference room table. Melissa Grey. Audrey Bernstein. Alivia Johnson. You could see your 21-year-old self in their eyes. You remember being so young and full of anxiety; you were near graduating from MIT. You couldn’t sleep at night from worrying if you had already lived up to your potential and would spend the rest of your years a washed up gifted kid– an academic has–been. After graduation, you proved to yourself your worth.

The college juniors in the photographs had their lives cut short by the unsub before they had the opportunity to find out what amazing places their brilliant minds could take them. You were about to allow said unsub to nearly kidnap you. 

That is, if you didn’t blow your cover. Then, he would hold you hostage or attempt to kill you as soon as possible by skipping his usual "kidnap and torture" routine.

Rationally, you knew your field experience more than prepared you for this task. Also, you knew your team had your back. They always kept you safe and healthy. The one time you were put at serious risk, you had to fight to be left alone after the case closed. But, you’re not sure if all the facts in the world could adequately calm your adrenal glands.

“Is this necessary?” Spencer suddenly interjected.

You turned to Spencer in surprise. “It’s the quickest way. We have twenty-four hours,” You said.

The unsub had a pattern; a girl was dying once every two weeks, and, when the the local and Connecticut police force combined failed to contain the situation, the BAU was brought into the case 36 hours before the next killing. With his eidetic memory, you were certain Spencer couldn't forget the time restraints if he tried, hence why you were stunned by his sudden brazenness. However, given Spencer's traumatic relationship history and your budding romance, Spencer's behavior was a lot more likely.

You and Spencer had been dating for a couple weeks. Despite being certain the team had their suspicions, you kept your relationship on the downlow. Strong boundaries were a good thing to keep when your relationship was in its fragile, formative era. Plus, you both agreed it was best to keep a high level of professionalism. 

This was the first time Spencer broke protocol.

“I think there’s another way.” Spencer continued. “It’s unsafe and illogical to put anyone’s life into considerable risk if there’s another viable option.”

“Are you implying I’m being rash, Reid?” Hotchner asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Usually, Spence would look away and take a breath. He’d at least have the decency to act timid, especially given the fact the entire team pulled multiple all-nighters in an effort to catch this serial killer. Instead, he leveled with Hotchner’s glare and asserted himself further. “I just think we’ve gotten a little too comfy using (Y/N) as an unsub lure. The more we do, the more probable a disaster will occur with her in the line of fire.”

“Spencer,” Morgan cut in gently. There was sympathy in his eyes. “We’ve done this with (Y/N) before. We’re good at reading her. And she knows the drill. We’ll keep her safe.”

“Yes, because that’s something we can certainly guarantee when she’s 3 inches from a serial killer.” Spencer deadpanned. 

“Reid. A word.” Without waiting for Spencer’s reaction, Hotch left the meeting room. With a hard look in his eye, Spencer filed after Hotch. You were relieved he was still obedient despite being ornery.

For a few moments, the team sat in silence. 

Rossi broke the spell with the scrape of his chair. “Well, I for one, am going to take this impromptu intermission as an opportunity to grab coffee. Any requests?” Rossi asked. 

“I’ll take a barbajada.” You joked half-heartedly. 

“Very funny, (L/N). Any requests the office Keurig can complete in less than five minutes?” 

The team rattled off their go-to office drink orders, but it faded to white noise. During your friendship, Spencer would always care for you when you had to lure the unsub. He’d be more attentive on the jet ride in and out. He’d check in on your mental state directly after the unsub was arrested and always called you once you got home. Once, after the particularly stressful unsub encounter, he sent you links to PTSD articles and even offered to help you schedule an appointment with a specialized therapist through the FBI’s mental health services.

But he’d never once intervened with a plan for you to go undercover. You knew Spencer Reid was nothing if not rational. He knew Hotch valued every member of his team. He knew Hotch would never send you undercover if it wasn’t necessary to stop a killing spree before more young women became statistics. 

Therefore, you knew Spencer was thinking about Maeve. 

You stood. 

“Where you going, Beauty Queen?” Morgan asked.

“Just heading to the restroom.” You lied. 

You walked down the hall and crept up the stairs. You tiptoed down the east wing of the second floor to avoid clicking your heels against the concrete. 

You crept to the side of Hotch’s office. You pressed your back to the wall.

Hotch said something indecipherable. An angry Reid answered.

“And all I’m saying is, she is not a cat with nine lives! She has one life. One precious life, that I think we’ve been a little too careless with.”

“Reid, you know I would never risk putting (Y/N) in harm’s way if it wasn’t the best course of action. She’s experienced with this. The team is experienced with this.” 

A beat of silence passed.

“Promise me that if you have so much as an inkling her life is in danger–”

“We’ll do everything in our power to get her out of there.”

“That’s the thing! ‘Everything in our power…’ It’s not enough. How many times have we told families we did everything we could when all they have left is a body bag?” 

Your heart froze. Both of the voices lowered. You could only catch bits and pieces of Hotch’s speech. You were never an eavesdropper, but despite your better nature, you crept around the corner towards the door.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone to an unsub, Spencer. I know how it sticks with you. I know how it changes the job. But you have to trust us– the team. We’re going to protect her. And we’re going to be there for you,” Hotch said. 

Spencer sighed. "How did you do it?" Spencer's voice cracked. "After Haley, Hotch? I’m not sure if I can survive this.” He sounded seconds away from tears. 

At that moment, you knew you would not sleep comfortably at night if you continued to be a fly on the wall.  You tiptoed back down the east wing and waited for Spencer at the bottom of the stairs.

Ten minutes passed before Spencer appeared at the top of the staircase.

“Spencer?” You called. 

His hazel eyes were tinged pink. He walked down the stairs nonchalantly. “Hey, um, would you mind if we discussed part of the case file real quick? Privately? It could help, um…” He cleared his throat. “Develop your persona.”

“Yes, of course.” 

Spencer didn’t look at you as he power walked down the hall towards the janitorial closets. For the first time since you started dating, he didn’t adjust to your walking pace. 

He flung a door open and yanked you inside. 

Carelessly, Spencer slammed the door behind you. Before you could get a word in, he pulled you into a bear hug.

“Spencer.” You whispered. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

He nuzzled his nose into your hair. 

You stood in the statue of a hug for two minutes.

“I can’t lose you.” Spencer whispered.

“You won’t.”

Spencer pulled away from you. He bent down to look you in the eye. He squeezed your shoulders. His eyes danced with emotion. There was a deep ache, a whirlpool of sadness that you knew a lifetime may never heal. What perplexed you was the hardness that you could only read as anger. 

“I…” He sighed. He hung his head. He dragged his palms down the slope of your shoulders to your forearms. It was like he was taking a cast of you with his hands. 

“I’m not dead on arrival. I’m still here. I’m coming back on that jet ride home with you. I’m going to be okay.” You reciprocated his shoulder squeeze. “You’re going to be okay.”

Spencer shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I care about you. It’s a part of the girlfriend package.” Spencer pulled you into another constricting hug. 

 “I can’t fathom how difficult this must be for you.” You whispered.

Spencer pressed his forehead to yours. “Promise me when you go out there, you won’t worry about me. I want you to only focus on you, your surroundings, and making sure you get out of there.”

“I promise, Spencer.” You said, though you weren’t sure if that would be the truth.

“And one more thing,” He said. His irises were so close to yours you could pick apart the layer of green and brown. “As soon as you feel unsafe, you call someone. If you have any inclination he’s going to overtake you–”

“I call the team.”

He took a step back and ran his hands through his hair. “I know you’re strong. I’m not trying to insult your field work.”

Your heart cracked. “Spencer, love, I know that. I’m so happy you care about me. I just wish this situation hurt you less.”

He dropped his hands to his sides. His brows furrowed. He stared at a random point to the left of your face.

“Can you do something for me? Before we leave?” He asked, still not meeting your gaze.

“What is it, Spence?”

He took a deep breath. He met your eyes again. “Dance with me.” 

“What?”

“Dance with me. I…” He inhaled deeply. “I never got to dance with Maeve before she…I barely even got to hold her. I won’t make the same mistake twice.” 

You closed the distance between you and Spencer. You cupped his face in your hands, and he instinctively leaned into your touch. His eyes shone with tears. “I’ll dance with you for the rest of my days, Spence.” 

He whipped out his phone. He turned on a slow jazz song you played for him last winter on an impromptu hot chocolate date. 

Your heart skipped a beat. You could go on that same date again, but it would have a whole new color to it. 

He slid his phone onto a cleaning supply shelf. He pulled you to his chest. Your head nestled right beneath his collarbone. You wrapped your arms around his mid back.

You danced, bodies pressed together like puzzle pieces, in silence until the song ended. The symphony of emotions didn’t cease with the final brush of the snare. 

Spencer continued swaying with you.

“I’m going to be okay.” You whispered.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You can’t promise me that.” He held you even tighter. “But I can promise you I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you come home to me.” 

Author's Note: Hello to all my new followers! I'm so glad you're here! I'm so grateful for the overwhelmingly positive reception to "I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't." Hope you enjoyed this piece as well!

I hope you have a great day or night wherever you are in this crazy world.

xoxo,

shewroteaworld

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

How the Killers from DBD would react to you slapping their ass.

Hey guys! Welcome to my silly DBD headcanons, this was just for fun, worked with a great buddy of mine @despacitobandito! <3 They helped me and we overall had a great time making this together so I hope you all get a good laugh out of this. Also! Apparently more killers have come out since Unknown’s release that I didn’t write down during the making of this, sorry for missing any new killers! Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 390

CW: Crack headcanons, nothing graphic, some reactions you’d expect from a slasher, contains killers up to Unknown!

Evan MacMillan - Trapper

• Insulted that you would ever touch his fine juicy ass.

Philip Ojomo - Wraith

• “Oh..!” You both are really awkward afterwards. Like just awkwardly staring at each other in silence.

Max Thompson Jr. - Hillbilly

• He’s genuinely startled by you slapping his ass, a little flattered probably.

Sally Smithson - Nurse

• Your hand phases through her and she slashes the shit out of you.

Michael Myers - Shape

• The thousand yard stare before he’d stab you in the face.

Lisa Sherwood - Hag

• *Minecraft skeleton noises.*

Herman Carter - Doctor

• *Farts electricity and electrocutes you.*

Anna - Huntress

• Stops humming. Run. Dude just run.

Bubba Sawyer - Cannibal

• Squeals and cries, you touched his no-no square.

Freddy Krueger - Nightmare

• Turns into literal dust because that’s what he deserves.

Amanda Young - Pig

• Instant bear trap, you don’t even get to find the key, as soon as it’s on, it snaps.

Jeffery Hawk - Clown

• Burp and fart combo.

Rin Yamaoka - Spirit

• You cut your hand since she has a glass shard sticking out of her ass cheek.

Frank, Julie, Susie and Joey - Legion

• They all gang up on you and kick you on the ground, JoJo style.

Adiris - Plague

• She pukes on you, like a baby.

Danny Johnson - Ghostface

• He liked it so much that he hunts you down for you to do it again.

Kazan Yamaoka - Oni

• Feels his masculinity being threatened and he hunts you every game to beat you violently.

Caleb Quinn - Deathslinger

• You traumatized the old man.

Pyramid Head - Executioner

• Execution via guillotine.

Talbot Grimes - Blight

• Immediately tries to vore you but he can’t as he doesn’t have movement in his lower jaw.

Charlotte Deshayes - Twins

• Victor shoots out of her chest and mauls you.

Ji-Woon Hak - Trickster

• Promoted to side hoe and discord kitten that manages his social media; you’re forced to listen to his music on loop on Spotify. There is no escape.

Nemesis

• “S.T.A.R.S.” *blows you up.*

Elliot Spencer - Cenobite

• “I came.”

Carmina Mora - Artist

• Screeches and crows swarm you.

Albert Wesker - Mastermind

• Look of pure disappointment before he hooks you. “Look but don’t touch.”

Tarhos Kovács - Knight

• “Oh good heavens!” *His and him gang mori you.*

Adriana Imai - Skull Merchant

• She cyberstalks you and cancels you on Twitter/X.

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky - Good Guy

• Punted across the whole damn map.

Unknown

• Snap, crackle, pop.

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Astronaut AU - Part 3

Masterpost

AU Summary: the boys as modern day NASA astronauts. Taking place in 2025, Bucky is about to head to the moon as mission commander of Artemis III while Buck is back-up commander and CAPCOM at NASA. Established relationship (obnoxiously in love).

Author's Note: Uh oh, the chapters are getting longer. Hope y'all will stick with me because I have plans for these boys. Heads up, this chapter does contain some expressions of homophobia. Also there's no new terms that I think need defining here, but I'm thinking of creating a term definition post for those I've already used.

--

‘John Egan and Alex Jefferson to make history as first queer and black representation on the moon’ 

‘Artemis III crew ready for liftoff in one month’

‘So three bachelors and a homosexual walk into a bar, er, a rocket…’

‘NASA targeting November 6  launch’

‘NASA’s diversity campaign’

‘What having a gay man in the space program means for the future of America’

‘NASA press conference gets heated after probing sexuality questions’

‘Biddick goes after reporter to defend fellow astronaut’

–

September 30, 2025

Johnson Space Center, Houston, TX

As NASA’s Artemis Public Affairs Officer, it is Marjorie Spencer’s job to relay information about the Artemis program to the public as well as to coordinate press events between the media and the crew and/or mission control. As Public Affairs Officer, it’s her job to wrangle a bunch of rowdy astronauts and convince them to play nice with the press, even when the press doesn’t play nice with them. With this particular crew, it can, often, be like wrangling a bunch of rambunctious, highly opinionated, and incredibly stubborn teenage boys. Or a bunch of selectively trained dogs whose selective training just happens to be whatever they feel like remembering in the moment.

A lot of people don’t truly appreciate how, as Public Affairs Officer, it is Marge’s job to make these boys – ahem, grown men – look presentable to the public when behind the scenes they are the bane of her existence. In the most loving way possible.

Public Affairs Officer, however, is only one of her jobs.

As Best Friend, her job often includes the emotional damage control that flies high above a PAO’s paygrade. 

As she finishes up welcoming a room full of reporters to Johnson Space Center, she reminds them that this will be the last press conference that the astronauts will take part in before starting their pre-launch quarantine process in just a few weeks. They will have another pre-launch press conference while in quarantine a couple of days before they board the Orion crew capsule, before they strap themselves to the top of NASA’s most powerful rocket ever created.

“Please welcome NASA’s Artemis 3 crew,” Marge says smoothly. “Major John Egan, mission commander. First Lieutenant Curtis Biddick, lunar module pilot. Dr. Robert Rosenthal, crew physician. Alexander Jefferson, mission specialist.”

One by one, the crew members, dressed in their NASA flight suits, walk up onto the small stage at the front and take their seats behind the table, which is emblazoned with the NASA logo. They each have a gold astronaut pin on their flight suit collars, signifying the fact that they have already successfully flown in space. These four men are some of the most qualified people currently in the space program, and they were hand-selected two years ago to fly this mission. Together, they have logged nearly 1,000 hours of training for Artemis 3, including crew module sims, lunar module sims, zero-gravity EVAs in the neutral buoyancy tank, and lunar terrain sims. In five weeks, that training will be put to use for the chance to put the next human footprints on the moon.

At first, the questions are typical, what the crew is prepared for. They’ve been answering similar questions through much of the training process. How does it feel to be going to the moon? What will each of their roles be on the mission? What kind of training have they been doing? Do they feel prepared? What does it mean for each of them to be on this mission? What do they think it means for the general public and for the future of science? For the space program? For Bucky and Curt, how does it feel to be the first men since the 70s to step foot on lunar soil?

The crew answers them all genuinely and professionally. They joke with the reporters, a trait that has made them endearing to much of the public. They wax poetic about flying to the moon and how they’ve all dreamed about it, how they’re honored to be a part of something so grand, what they hope it will symbolize for people all over the world. They say exactly what the reporters, and the public, generally want to hear. 

Until they can’t. Because at some point, no matter what you say, to someone somewhere it will never be right. 

To be honest, Bucky often stops listening to the reporters names and affiliations during these things. So he isn’t sure who asks this question, but he perks up when the man says “This question is for John Egan.” Bucky nods and the man goes on. “This crew has become well-known for being a crew of young bachelors, except for you. You’re getting married in just a couple weeks, correct? To Major Gale Cleven, also a NASA astronaut.”

Bucky nods again. “Yes, that’s correct.” 

“Do you or Major Cleven have any concerns about you going to the moon just days after the big day?”

Bucky smirks. “Well, which big day are you referring to? The wedding or the launch?”

The reporters in the room chuckle quietly. “The wedding,” the man says.

Bucky tries not to roll his eyes. You get married and suddenly it doesn’t matter that both spouses have been professional and highly trained adrenaline junkies for years before this. “Of course, there’s always concerns when it comes to hurling yourself off of a planet,” he replies. “But Gale and I have been through this together, more than once. We know the risks, and we support each other 100%. The only thing that will be different is I’ll have a wedding ring with me.”

As reporters clamor to get the next question, Marge points and a woman stands up, introducing herself. “Major Egan,” she starts. Two in a row. Bucky clenches his jaw, worried he knows where this press conference is about to go. “How do you think coming out as a member of the LGBTQ+ community affected your role within NASA and within the Artemis program?”

Bucky takes a quiet but deep breath. “My sexuality has never been a secret,” he answers. At least, it hasn’t been since high school. And yet the media still aren’t comfortable with words like gay or homosexual or queer or even LGBT. When they do say these words, it’s almost hushed, like it’s something terrible. “It wasn’t a secret when I flew on the ISS two years ago, and it isn’t now. My qualifications and experience, I think, speak for themselves as to why I am on this mission.”

“Do you consider yourself a role model for the queer youth of today?” Someone jumps in.

Bucky hears Curt stifle a laugh beside him, and he almost smiles himself. “I’m not trying to be any sort of role model or anything,” he says honestly. “God knows you could find better than me. But I am an Air Force pilot, I am an astronaut, I am an engineer, and yes, I am also going to marry a man next month. And that man has been the love of my life for over a decade. So if those facts can somehow align to give others the opportunity to dream, to believe in themselves and in a better future, then I’m glad.” He glances over at Marge, who looks a little wary of where things are heading, but she gives him a thumbs up for his answer.

“So this isn’t just a publicity stunt in NASA’s diversity agenda?” another reporter asks. At the same time, someone throws their hand up and says “what kind of message is NASA trying to send by putting you on this mission?” 

The questions and excited mumbling of other reporters jumble into some cacophony of muddled sound, and Bucky bites down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something out of line. Because as a public figure, anything he says now will be ‘out of line.’

Another reporter stands up, unbidden, before he can even think of an appropriate answer to either of the questions he was able to hear. “For the rest of the crew,” he calls out, before Marge can direct him to take his seat. “How do you feel about having a gay man in the spacecraft with you?”

Bucky can taste blood as he bites down harder. Marge steps up on stage in a hurry, saying something about that being enough questions about Major Egan’s personal life, and any further questions should be directly mission related.

But Curt has already moved to stand up, and Rosie and John simultaneously reach out from either side to push him back down. Alex leans forward at the other end of the table, intent on putting that question to rest with a facial expression that is as close to a glare as can be managed without getting called out for being ‘unfriendly’ by the media. “This crew is like family,” he states with an overwhelmingly exaggerated sense of calm. “John is one of the best pilots NASA has. We are all proud to call him our friend and our commander.”

Marge, now standing firmly next to Alex at the end of the table so she can moderate more directly, nods at him in approval. As she moves to select someone for the next question, though, one of the reporters near the front scoffs and not-so-subtly mumbles something under his breath that leaves Bucky dazed, his ears ringing. Next thing he knows, Curt’s chair is clattering backwards as he shoots to his feet – “What did you say? What the fuck did you say!” Rosie is holding him back from jumping the table with all of his grip strength, and the newsroom is erupting in shouts from the reporters. Questions and insults fly across the room, directed at one another and at Bucky, too. He just sits there quietly, his elbows on the table and his chin resting on his folded hands, letting the words slap him in the face and settle like stones in his chest. He forces himself to stop biting down on his cheek, and watches numbly as security barges into the frenzied crowd to begin escorting reporters out of the room.

When Rosie finally releases his grip, Curt grabs his chair and sits back down with an angry grunt, shaking his head. “Stupid fucks,” he mutters. Marge ends the press conference after that.

As the room is cleared, the crew is shuffled out of the newsroom and into Marge’s office down the hall. She sighs and puts her head in her hand, pacing the room, her heels clacking methodically on the tile. The men stand quietly in a line, looking anywhere but at each other. Finally, Marge takes a deep breath and looks them each in the eye. “Well,” she says. “That could have been… well. That was bad. Okay, that was bad.” She looks at Bucky. “You did great, John. Thank you for how you handled that. I’m so sorry. We’ll figure out a way to handle this better for your pre-launch press conference.”

Bucky just nods. “Yeah,” he says distantly. “Yeah, no big deal.”

If we’re lucky the fag will die up there.

“It’s a big fucking deal,” Curt mutters angrily. They’re used to this kind of thing by now; between John, a gay man, and Alex, a black man, the crew has become overwhelmingly and depressingly aware that the world has not yet changed quite enough to escape derision over difference being normal, over people existing outside the boxes that society has designed. They deal with it, they move on, they do their job. But today was more… well, it was just more than usual. Like the closer they get to launch, the more the media is concerned about all the wrong things. And the more comfortable they are with voicing it. 

“It’s fine,” Bucky insists. “Nothing that I haven’t heard before, really.” He can hear it in his own voice, though: He isn’t sure how much he believes himself.

If we’re lucky…

Rosie pats him on the shoulder. “Like Alex said, we’re family. We’ve got your back, and we won’t tolerate this shit.” Bucky tries to give a little half smile. 

…the fag will die up there. 

Marge nods and checks their schedule on her tablet. “Let’s, um, let’s all take a breather, okay? We don’t have any major press engagements until right before launch.” She looks up at them, and she fights a frown when she sees the varying states of anger, frustration, and dejection on their faces. She knows it’s not her fault, but it’s her job to coordinate and moderate these events. She tries to smile reassuringly instead. “I’ll work with each of you on your own interviews and media appearances over the next few weeks, but I need you boys to focus on the mission. I’ll take care of addressing how this conference ended, and I’ll work with public relations to make sure we can avoid things getting out of hand in the future.” She knows she has a strongly worded email from the director of the human spaceflight program – or possibly even an impromptu meeting – coming her way any minute. She has to work out how to tidy up this mess, but it can’t be her priority at the moment.

She hugs Alex, Rosie, and Curt as they exit her office. Then she looks at Bucky, who has barely moved at all. “Hey,” she says, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

He glances up at her before looking back at his shoes. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

Bucky shrugs, but doesn’t answer for a long, long moment. “I should be,” he finally sighs. “I’m used to it, really. It’s been the same since my astronaut candidacy was announced. Hell, it’s been the same my whole life.” He scoffs. “I don’t know. It just feels… worse somehow, this time.”

He looks up at Marge again, and Marge feels her chest tighten at the tired sadness in his eyes. Even the toughest men she knows have never been bullet proof. She pulls him into her arms and lets him hold on for as long as he needs as he tries to keep himself together. 

If we’re lucky…

“You’re one of our best,” she tells him quietly as she rubs his back. “Anyone who says otherwise is wrong.”

“I know,” Bucky says, but his voice chokes on the words. “I…” He holds onto her tighter, and he can’t bring himself to say anything else. 

If we’re lucky…

When he lets go, Marge squeezes his arm. Her assistant knocks on the door then, here to tell her that Neil Harding, the director of the human spaceflight program, wants to see her in his office. She thanks the woman and takes a deep breath. “Okay,” she tells Bucky. “I’m going to work on cleaning up this mess. But once I do, I’ll meet you at yours for some good old fashioned damage control.” Damage control meaning drinks, snacks, and general mayhem. Bucky kisses her on the cheek, thanks her, and watches her strut out of the room, off to fulfill her third role: certified badass.

–

Just minutes after Marge leaves Neil Harding’s office, Gale finds himself outside the very same door, wondering why he’s been summoned out of the blue in the middle of his work day. He’s greeted by a woman who he hasn’t seen in years, looking as prim and proper as ever even in her European Space Agency flight suit.

“Sandra?” He asks. 

She turns around and smiles politely at him, that charming and yet almost disarming way she always does. “Gale! Wow, it’s been some time hasn’t it?”

Gale nods, but eyes her carefully in confusion. “Sure has. Nice to see you again.”

Sandra looks unphased though, exactly as he would expect her to. This woman could be faced with a dead body or three or ten – and probably has been – and wouldn’t bat an eye. She is, perhaps, the strongest woman Gale knows, and NASA really is full of strong women. “How are you?” she asks. “And how’s John? Or, Bucky I believe is what people call him around here. You Americans and your funny nicknames.”

“Good, good,” Gale says. “He’s going up on Artemis 3 in November.”

Sandra puts a hand on his shoulder and almost looks… sad? “Oh I know. It’s all the buzz, isn’t it?”

Gale arches an eyebrow, not quite sure what she’s getting at. Before he can say anything, though, the door to Neil’s office opens and the man himself is ushering them inside. 

“Gale! Sandra! We have a lot to cover so get on in here.”

–

When Marge finally lets herself into Buck and Bucky’s home with a spare key, armed with ice cream and alcohol, she stops short as she walks into the living room. She leans against the doorframe, one hand on her hip and the other holding the groceries. It’s only 4pm and Bucky, who went home early after the whole fiasco with the media, is slouched down low in the middle of the couch, bundled in an old Yankees sweatshirt with Pepper curled up at his side, her head in his lap. The news is on, a clip from their press conference earlier. A reporter is talking in depth about the incident, and the entire “controversy” over NASA’s “agenda.” As he watches, he doom-scrolls on his phone, and Marge knows he’s digging himself into a deep, deep hole filled with social media comments. His eyes are red, but his face is dry.

“John,” Marge says. He looks up at her and smiles weakly. She motions towards the TV, where the reporter is now reading an official statement from NASA, saying that the organization supports Major John Egan and the entirety of the Artemis 3 crew 100%; that the crew was selected based on merit and capability; that each member has been extensively trained and has shown that they are highly qualified and prepared for a lunar mission; and that NASA stands by all of their astronauts and employees, regardless of identity, and will not tolerate attacks of any kind such as those that occurred today. 

Bucky watches the report blankly before shifting his eyes over to Marge. She sighs before walking over to the coffee table, where she sets down the bag of groceries and picks up the remote. The TV clicks off. “Enough of that,” she says. When she collapses down next to Bucky and Pepper on the couch, she peeks over at his phone. Social media comments, sure enough. Supportive and detrimental both. She plucks the phone from his hand and turns it off, placing it face down on the coffee table. “And enough of that.”

John just stares at it on the tabletop, idly stroking Pepper’s ears. He won’t look at Marge, so she reaches over across Pepper and places a hand on his shoulder. “John, look at me.”

He does, and he takes a deep, shaky breath. He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again, biting down on the inside of his lip. Pepper licks his hand. He takes another breath and looks Marge right in the eye. “There’s death threats,” he says. When Marge just frowns, he rubs a hand over his face. “For me. And for Gale. Not many, thank God, but they’re there. I read them.” 

“Oh honey,” Marge says sadly. She gets up to switch to his other side, so she can wrap her arms around him properly. He lets himself settle into the embrace and closes his eyes, letting his most trusted friend ground him on one side and his dog on the other. 

“Thank you for issuing that statement,” he mumbles. 

Marge lays her head on top of his. “Harding wants to talk to you tomorrow, and he wanted me to tell you that the human space flight program fully supports you and always has. I think he wanted to give you some space today. Once you’re up for it, we’ll bring the whole crew in to discuss how to handle this in the future.” Bucky gives a small nod of acknowledgement. “You know it’s not really about you, right?” Marge asks. “Those things that people are saying. It’s entirely about them. None of them know you, and no one can, in any meaningful way, deny that you belong on this mission. This is about their own problems and their own prejudices. You,” she squeezes him harder, “have done everything right.”

Bucky is silent for a long time, until finally he says, “I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“Alright,” Marge says easily. She leans away and looks at him, grinning. “Time for some damage control.”

–

By 6:30pm, Gale can’t get the door of their house open fast enough. He hasn’t heard from Bucky all day and needs to tell him about the meeting with Harding. When he gets inside, though, he’s greeted by loud music pumping through their stereo speakers. As he walks into the living room, he takes in the sight of half empty cocktail glasses and beer bottles, open ice cream cartons and abandoned spoons, a bag of chips and a plate of fruit, and the throw pillows strewn all over the floor. He pauses in his tracks, staring at the carnage as his excitement drains rapidly from his body. 

Damage Control. 

Fuck. 

Pepper runs out of the kitchen to greet him, tail wagging so hard her whole body goes with it. Gale tilts his head and smiles at her. Throwing his keys on the coffee table next to Bucky’s abandoned phone, he crouches down and scratches under Pepper’s collar. “What happened, Pep?” He asks her. 

She just bumps his hand with her wet nose and spins around once before trotting off back to the kitchen. He follows her tentatively and peeks through the kitchen doorway, where Bucky is sitting on the counter while Marge stands, leaning back against the center island across from him. There’s flour and dirty cooking utensils everywhere, and it smells like tomato sauce. 

Marge looks down at Pep and then up at Gale. “Hey there,” she says. 

They’ve been laughing and singing and dancing all evening, but when Bucky looks up and sees the hesitant half smile on Gale’s face, the furrow in his brow, he knows Gale has already figured out that something is wrong anyways. The smile falls from Bucky’s face at the same time it falls from Gale’s. “Buck,” he says, but it barely pushes past his throat as a whisper. 

“What’s wrong?” Gale asks. He looks from Bucky to Marge and back. “John?”

Bucky shrugs and averts his eyes, watching Pepper instead as she flops down dramatically on the tile floor. “I’m fine,” he says. 

“Come on, John,” Gale sighs. But Bucky won’t look at him, so Gale looks at Marge instead. 

She brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Some things were said at the press conference today,” she supplies. “We had to end it early, with security pulling some reporters from the room.”

Gale frowns. “What kind of things?”

“Mostly about John’s sexuality. And your relationship. They were pretty innocent at first, but-“

“If we’re lucky the fag will die up there,” Bucky bites out. Gale feels frozen in place. He blinks, shoves his hands in his pockets, takes them out again. “There’s been worse online,” Bucky adds. 

“John,” Gale says quietly. He steps forward, one hand outstretched, but he stops short when Bucky crosses his arms protectively over his chest. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Bucky says, ducking his head. They both know that’s not true. ‘Damage Control’ isn’t for things that aren’t a big deal. Bucky shrugs. “At least, it shouldn’t be a big deal. Hey, I’m used to it right? I just gotta keep on going.” He laughs bitterly, but when he looks up at Gale, the hurt on the other man’s face squeezes his chest all funny and he looks away again. Then there’s a warm arm around his back, a hand on the back of his head. He feels Gale standing in front of him, and he lets his head fall forward to rest against his. Slowly, he lifts his arms to wrap around his fiancé, and he grips the fabric of his shirt in white-knuckled, shaking hands. 

After a couple of long, silent minutes, nothing but their careful breathing passing in the air between them, Bucky takes a deep breath. “Wow, way to put a damper on this little party, huh? Let’s uh, let’s go back to the part where I don’t have to think about this tonight.”

They both know they’ll have to talk about this later, but Gale nods and lets go. Bucky grabs tightly to his hand, though, wanting a tether to stop this feeling of drifting away. 

Marge motions for them to go back out to the living room. “Pizza in the oven. I’ll bring it out in a minute.”

When she does eventually follow them into the living room, carrying a tray of pizza, she walks in on them dancing in the middle of the room to “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis as it plays over the speakers. Bucky smoothly twirls Gale around before pulling him close again, and Marge is, not for the first time, in awe of the pure adoration that passes between the two of them. “Shouldn’t you save your first dance song for your actual wedding night?” she asks as she sets the pizza on the coffee table next to Bucky’s phone, still upside down, and Gale’s keys. 

They slow to a stop and look at her. Bucky shrugs. “Gotta practice so I don’t trip over myself and embarrass my bride.” 

Gale blushes and half-heartedly mumbles “stop calling me that.” 

Bucky grins. “What? My bride?” He gently pulls Gale down onto the couch with him, wrapping an arm around his waist and kissing him on the temple. “But I love the way it makes you blush.”

Marge gags dramatically and tells them to eat their pizza. 

As they’re polishing it off, even giving Pepper her own little piece, Gale licks his fingers and says nonchalantly, “I have some news.”

When he doesn’t go on, Marge rolls her eyes. “Care to share with the class?”

Gale is quiet for a second, but then a grin spreads across his face as he looks at both of them. “I’m going to the moon earlier than we thought. Artemis 4.”

Bucky jumps up so fast he bangs a knee hard on the table and Marge has to lunge forward to keep the pizza tray from falling to the floor. Pepper jumps up in alarm as Bucky spins to face Gale, ignoring the pain shooting through his leg. “You’ve been home for-“ he checks the clock on the wall. “An hour! And you didn’t say anything until NOW?”

Gale shrugs sheepishly. “There were more important things-“

“No!” Bucky cries. “No… Wait. How in hell did you get yourself onto the A4 roster?”

Artemis 4 is planned to launch in just over a year. Crew selection had been made months ago. Gale rubs the back of his neck. “Well, the two ESA astronauts that were supposed to go got bumped cause of health concerns. ESA was able to put in one other astronaut, but NASA wanted a more experienced pilot in the lander. Harding called me in today.”

“Gale, that’s amazing!” Marge says, crawling across the couch to hug him tight. “Oh my god, this is so amazing. Congratulations!” She’s in part already thinking about the press coordination and social media posting that this necessitates, but holy shit that can wait for now.

When she pulls away, Bucky reaches down and wraps his arms around Gale’s middle, pulling him up from the couch and spinning him around. Then he kisses him hard and spins him again, Gale laughing as he yells for Bucky to set him down. “What!” Bucky exclaims. “You gotta get used to being helpless in the air again, you’re going to the moon!”

Gale rolls his eyes as Bucky sets him down. “Who did ESA toss into the thick of it?” Bucky asks. 

“Sandra Westgate.” Gale raises an eyebrow as he says this, watching for Bucky’s reaction. 

It’s Marge, though, that jumps in as Bucky tries to process that. “No way, Croz’s old flame?”

“Yep.”

Bucky shakes his head, trying not to laugh. Harry Crosby, Houston’s best flight dynamics officer, had spent a hot summer a few years back – before he and his now-wife Jean got back together after a bit of a break – gallivanting about town with Sandra Westgate. She’s top class, one of the best astronauts in the European Space Agency. Gale is lucky to be flying with her, really. But damn. “Does… does Croz know?” 

Gale nods, chuckling. “Yeah, he knows. Saw him gaping at her like a fish as I showed her around this afternoon. They’ve both moved on, but…”

“Awkward,” Marge cringes. 

“She’ll be sticking around Houston for the next year, starting in a couple weeks,” Gale explains. “To train with us.”

“Plenty of time to un-move on,” Bucky muses. 

Marge throws a pillow at him, but he dodges it and watches as it crashes into a fake plant in the corner of the room. “Don’t say that!” Marge reprimands. “Croz and Jean are very happy together you ass.”

Bucky shrugs. “Sorry.” He looks at Gale, who is still standing facing him. “Now don’t you go getting any ideas either. Sandra’s a strong and lovely woman.”

Gale cups the back of Bucky’s neck and kisses him softly. “I would never,” he whispers, before he falls back onto the couch. Bucky collapses next to him, grabbing Gale’s hand again so he can fiddle with his fingers. 

They look at each other, and Bucky presses his lips to Gale’s knuckles. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you, too.”

Marge takes one last bite of pizza. “It’s sickening how in love you two are.”

Gale smiles shyly. “Always have been.”

Bucky smiles back at him, but too many thoughts are swirling around in his head, and he feels the words choke and fizzle on his tongue.

…

Part 4

[butchdazai]

Books I finished reading in September

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

I have finally read this, and I'm glad I did. It's a great book! The characters, while confusing at first due to the large cast, are very interesting and unique. You continue to learn stuff about some them that recontextualizes everything you knew about them throughout the book, right up to the end. The universe that Muir created is also very intriguing and keeps you wanting to know more. Perhaps other sci-fi books would be better if they included more mentally unwell lesbians like Muir did.

Who Moved My Cheese? by Spencer Johnson

This book sucks so bad. The only good part is that its less than 100 pages long and the font is huge so you don't have to read it for long. This book is like if someone made a cute children's story and then decided to pretend that the very simple lesson it taught applied to absolutely everyone in every situation ever and also sandwiched it within the most awkward dialogue known to mankind. Sorry for the run-on sentence but there's no other way to express how bad this book is.

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Harrow the Ninth is even better than Gideon the Ninth. It has everything that GtN has plus a huge puzzle that you, as the reader, have to untangle while you read. However, Harrow is a very unreliable narrator, which is an additional hurdle to untangling this puzzle (although one I quite enjoy, I maintain that I would be an unreliable narrator if I were a character in a book). Additionally, a large part of this book uses second person perspective, which I really like and yet is rare to find in literature.

Nona the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Another book that confuses you from the very beginning, hoping you solve the puzzle within; that puzzle being, who is Nona?, which is a surprisingly difficult question to answer. Overall a solid continuation to HtN with new, interesting characters and showing other sides of old characters we had previously not seen.

[crossover-enthusiast]

Hi, hope I'm not bothering, but I've seen other people coming in and out of your inbox to talk and I just kinda wanted to actually say something to someone directly instead of screaming into the void lmfao. Lmk if you don't really want that ofc.

So, I've only seen the newer Jumanji movies, but when I made the post it was stuck in my head that Radford would surely take on the role of Spencer (the main dude). So, idk if you've seen the newer movies but Spencer is basically this super sorta cowardly guy who's scared of squirrels. But his in-game character is the overpowered guy played by Dwayne the Rock Johnson. Anyways, he'd be sorta like that because I imagine he has no skills whatsoever with wild animals or nature and just. Freaks out every few minutes. But his character has like, super strength or something he would NOT have irl.

He'd probably take a while to get used to his in-game abilities, but honestly you cannot tell me it wouldn't go to his head a bit. I mean, dude can outrun everyone while carrying a full grown adult, actually carry and run with a full grown adult, have these sudden awesome fighting skills he doesn't even know how he learned, and other shit. But he does not know how the fuck to make a campfire outside of watching, like, Castaway of something lmfao.

In my version of the AU there's Kevin and I decided the Hatzgang (since it might've been Streber's group). They'd all take turns trying to light a fire before giving up and just sleeping in a group with someone taking shifts staying awake. It's all very sad and traumatising. But I'll stop so I'm not giving you a full page of random AU lore in your inbox lmao. Idk does it sound interesting ig?

I've never seen the new Jumanji but this? Amazing

Because Radford absolutely would!! It'd get to his head because he gets to be this super cool action hero guy like in the movies, and once he gets the hang of it he loves it

Also I know it's supposed to be sad and show that even with their new skills none of them know basic survival stuff but the idea that AL L of them fail to light a fire is really funny to me sdjkfndj

Anyways! It does sound really interesting, I'd love to hear more if you want :]

[amberjazmyn]

criminal minds bau one-shot

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - panic room

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - normal criminal minds warnings, character death, torture, angst, loads of tears, grief

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - agent ellianna johnson is taken by the unsub after she was assigned the task of taking said unsub down. the unsub was ellianna's uncle and a serial killer who had been killing during ellianna's entire thirty years of life, ultimately ruining and shaming the "johnson" last name. that was until she was her uncle's very last victim before arresting him finally bringing some peace, justice and closure for the victims and her family.

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - i've had this idea swimming around in my brain for a while so i hope i don't mess this up. also, italics will be the characters' thoughts and the pov's will be switching a lot but you'll know who's pov it'll be. also, whilst i have included gifs, i am not categorising this as a gif imagine because even though they are used to describe the grief that i explain from the four gifs i've chosen, i am not labelling it as a gif imagine if that makes sense.

part two masterlist

- - -

ellianna knew she had to do something so the unsub wouldn't get away with his crimes but, she really should have been more thought out with her decision-making skills, especially as an fbi agent with the behavioural analysis unit. yet, if she was questioned later about the decision she made, she would 100% defend herself and say that whilst she could absolutely have been more thought out, her plan was the most logical idea and the only way in which the unsub was going to meet his end as a serial killer.

now, ellianna, in her almost ten years with the fbi's bau has been through many a torture chamber but, none were as horrific as the one that she was currently hanging in by her wrists that were attached to the top of the ceiling of the old warehouse she was being held captive in. refusing to show the fear that she didn't have, she put her life on the line so many times at this point that it almost becomes something of an "inside joke" within the bau to act like some "lighthearted" therapy. and to make light of all the times the thirty-year-old had been kidnapped and tortured whilst on a case. however, this torture was going to be the one case that wouldn't ever be a laughable one, even in the far-off future. this one was for sure the one that ellianna was about a hundred million per cent sure going to kill her. this warehouse was the panic room that haunted the agent's dreams every single night, despite the constant denial to her fellow agents and sometimes herself about the nightmares she'd have about the said warehouse.

the unsub that ellianna and her boyfriend dr spencer reid were tasked to capture was a sixty-year-old male, just shy of 6ft tall, with shaggy brown hair, and dirty brown eyes with the stench of a garbage collector. the man's name was peter johnson and heartbreakingly, ellianna's own uncle from her dad's side of the family. hence why she threw herself into the warehouse rather than jj, derek, emily or her two bosses aaron and david. but that didn't mean that ellianna threw herself into that warehouse on her own entirely, she had her boyfriend and fellow supervisory special agent dr spencer reid as her number two. she made a promise to her parents, basically her whole family, that even if it killed her, this job, she'd be the person to eventually take down her serial killer uncle so no one else had to go through the trauma that this man was bringing not just to her family but to the wider state of virginia and the country of the united states of america.

"...why is it that you always have to sacrifice yourself for your team, ellianna? is this something that gives you a buzz? an excitement?" the gruff voice of the unsub, who was ellianna's uncle, made her entire body shiver as she grunted, really showing her body strength as she held herself up

"why else do you think, peter? and no, why would this give me a buzz or excitement? i'm doing my goddamn job!" the thirty-year-old spat back, not wanting the niceties to be much longer, the man understanding that almost straight away

"oh, that's right, how could i forget! you want to prove to our family as well as to your team that you can arrest me after i've spent the last thirty years committing these crimes and only now i've been caught and you wanted to be the final victim!" the older man snarled as ellianna dryly chuckled at her insane family member

"i don't want to prove myself to them because i don't need to prove anything to anybody. i promised my family years ago when i first joined the fbi academy that i would do anything in my power to make sure they and i were all alive to see you finally be thrown into prison. i was nineteen then and i'm thirty now and only one small thing has changed about that statement!" ellianna huffed out, her attitude really testing her uncle's patience, just like it did when she was younger as the older, grotesque man crossed his arms over, daring to challenge his fed niece

"what's changed then, enlighten me, my dear niece. what has changed in the last ten years, ellianna johnson?" peter spat out as ellianna chuckled to herself, always up for the fun that was challenging her dad's older brother

"what's changed, is that i no longer care whether i come out of here alive or not. as long as the rest of my family is alive and healthy to see you get thrown into prison and have their witness statements taken and given justice by getting charged and thrown away for the rest of your life, it no longer bothers me whether or not i'm alive or dead. as long as my family gets justice for the despicable and abhorrent crimes you committed, i'll know i died a hero and a role model for the family because i helped them take down the serial killer who destroyed not just the name of our family but also all the good that's in our family because of the decision you made over thirty years ago to finally listen to those little voices in your head that you had been ignoring for so many years until they got so loud that you couldn't deal with them anymore and the only way you thought you could stop them was from killing others!" ellianna was raging mad at this point, not caring that she was covered in blood, blood that was dripping from her forehead and feet - all she cared about was her family and all the other families getting the justice they deserved years ago

this was when ellianna wished that she had an eidetic memory because she couldn't even remember that spencer, her boyfriend and fellow agent had come with her into the warehouse, also getting caught by her uncle - though only getting restrained to a chair in front of her as he opened his eyes and made eye contact with the love of his life

a flash of memory then came across ellianna as she moved to make eye contact with him. she knew he'd be just as terrified as she would be. wordlessly, without peter realising since he was distracted, ellianna comforted spencer, letting him know that whilst it looked like it hurt from the way she was hanging by her hands, she was completely fine and that she was able to handle it. the moment that she got the confirmation head nod from spencer, she focused back to peter, who had seemed to suddenly remember also, that he had kept spencer restrained to a chair sitting right in front of ellianna, whilst he had stood slightly off to the side.

"hmm, seems like you hadn't forgotten about spencer like i would have thought you did, i mean, i forgot about him for a second because of how quiet he is..." peter trailed off in a taunting voice as ellianna rolled her eyes as the sounds of the warehouse lights sounded, the burst of light making both spencer and ellianna turn away due to how bright it was and how their eyes still needed adjustment

"...of course, i didn't, you douchebag! now, what are you going to do to him, peter?" ellianna started to slightly panic, on the inside that is, she was staying calm on the outside as she hoped that whilst the team were all wired and connected, they were still close by and had the opportunity and a chance at rescuing spencer

"absolutely nothing dear niece of mine. i mean, i haven't forgotten and i don't think spencer here has forgotten the entire screech of a speech you made to me and everyone that cares to watch this live feed at the start of this entire ordeal. you screamed for spencer not to be hurt and i haven't. i haven't laid a single finger on dr reid and i won't because i'll be way too busy laying every single finger on you to even give that squib a second look..." peter trailed off as spencer let out a wrangled cry, making peter and ellianna snap their heads, peter moving closer to his niece to move a strand of her hair behind her ear

"...shh, spence, please, it's okay! i'm okay, i promise, he isn't hurting me!" ellianna tried her absolute hardest to convince her boyfriend that the torture by her uncle wasn't painful at all - and it was true, ellianna hadn't screamed one single time

"she's right, boy genius, she hasn't screamed, not once. not since she begged on her knees for me to hurt her, instead of you..." peter snickered as all spencer's mind could go back to was that moment, he had never seen his girlfriend beg like that in their entire time at the bau together, and neither did the rest of their team who was watching via the live feed that penelope had hacked into after being given the link by peter

"--please, peter, i beg of you. take me instead, leave spencer alone. hurt me, touch me, rape me! whatever it is you want, just do it to me. just leave spencer and the rest of my team alone, they've done nothing wrong! and keep your bloody hands off of him!" she begged, she had never sounded so sure but so pained at the same time as she saw her uncle drift closer to her boyfriend as though he was taunting his niece

in her almost decade of serving as a federal agent with the fbi's behavioural analysis unit, ssa ellianna johnson hadn't ever begged an unsub for something more than for her boyfriend, ssa dr spencer reid to be spared by them, the unsub they were trying to take down, which had turned out to be ellianna's own uncle.

the rest of spencer and ellianna's team; derek morgan, emily prentiss, jennifer (jj) jareau, penelope garcia, david rossi and aaron hotchner watched the security camera live footage with anxiety and uncertainty for their two youngest members. the team was usually so fearless so whenever something bad happened to spencer and or ellianna, the team was always at their most vulnerable. the girls had tears blurring their vision and the guys tried to hold back their own tears and their anger as the team sat in silence as they watched the live feed that had been sent to penelope for this very reason and it boiled their blood.

peter was still not budging on his niece's pleas to leave spencer alone. neither spencer nor ellianna had been restrained as yet as they had just arrived but peter had already thrown things at them and given both of them minor concussions.

if it took ellianna to get on her knees begging her uncle for him to stay away from spencer, she would do anything to make sure he would be safe and, that's what she did. ellianna got down on her knees, her hands in the air and her gun out of its holster and discarded on the floor, begging for her uncle to leave her boyfriend alone and to take her as his hostage and torture her so that her boyfriend would be safe and sound.

"for fuck sake, peter, please! stay the fuck away from spencer, don't you dare think about even laying one of your dirty fingers on him. put all those grubby, bloody, serial killer fingers on me and torture me with every ounce of your body because you'll have so much more fun hurting me than you would if you were hurting spencer. please, let me take spencer's place he has so much more life left to live for and new things to research and find out about life. he...he has to take care of his mom, he has to find a cure for her! please, leave him alone!" ellianna begged again, on her knees as peter finally changed his mind, ellianna eased as spencer was then placed in the chair, right in front of the chains that were suspended in the air with all different kinds of torture devices next to it

spencer had never been known fear in his life until this moment right here. it wasn't him being tied up to the chair that terrified him, the thing that scared him was having to watch the love of his life, the girl he wanted to marry, watch getting tortured and killed right in front of him with a front-row seat, their team also helplessly watching, by someone who once loved her, he'd do anything to protect her as her uncle.

"ellianna, what are you doing?" spencer whimpered, not caring that he sounded like a weak, scared little boy in front of the unsub because, at this moment, that's how he felt as ellianna smiled softly

"i'm saving your life, spence. i can't let you die, you mean way too much to me. you've been through so much, it's time i deserved some pain once in a while, i'm lessening the load," ellianna smiled, keeping up her strength as peter drew ever so closer to his niece so he could start assembling the torture, grabbing her and chucking her against a wall, causing spencer and the team watching to flinch at the noise ellianna's body made as it connected with the wall as more blood started to pool at the back of her head, matching the blood trickling down her forehead, due to the force the push had created

the metal chains loudly clasped her hands above her head as she hung with her feet no longer touching the ground beneath her as she remained tough and unafraid. a smile suddenly formed on the young agent's face as she suddenly giggled at how unflattering this pose must have looked to spencer and the team at the angle they were watching it at. saying it in a way to make the horrific situation more comedic, however, it of course didn't land as well as she wanted it to land.

"this pose must look very unflattering to you guys right now..." ellianna giggled suddenly as she then looked down, the mortified look of her boyfriend, spencer, as well as her team who she couldn't see, didn't find it as comedic as she thought they would have

halting her laughter, ellianna quietly gulped, not knowing what else she could say to fill the suddenly eerie silence that fell throughout the abandoned warehouse - peter ignoring the exchange

it seemed as if ellianna's begs to save spencer in replacement for her was working. she smiled to herself that her boyfriend was safe, though he was having to watch his girlfriend be tortured right in front of him whilst restrained, he was safe.

no more than a second longer did peter wait before his homemade torture equipment was powered up before it started to tear into and shock ellianna's body. the equipment varied from kitchen appliances like knives, screwdrivers, ice picks, and a baseball bat to an electric wire that would end up being bound around ellianna's legs as well as other things that burnt into the agent's skin. ellianna's entire body was being torn into and was on fire however that gorgeous, loving, caring, bright smile remained etched on her face, not once letting it falter or letting herself scream out in pain for her uncle to switch the torture equipment off.

ellianna knew that it was bothering her uncle immensely that she wasn't reacting to the torture. she knew that he always thrived off of the pain of his victims yet, she'd always been known to have the physical and mental strength throughout her entire life to be able to withstand whatever torture that was subjected to her. so, ellianna could tell that if her uncle was a firecracker about to explode, he would have set the entire warehouse ablaze because he wasn't getting the reaction and what he wanted from his victim. but, the catch was, due to how smart peter was, it didn't take him too long to figure out what could possibly make his niece falter and that was seeing her boyfriend falter and freak out. for ellianna, the only known thing to cause her pain in the world was seeing her boyfriend spencer in pain. whether it was seeing him cry, seeing him sick or just seeing him in some sort of pain made ellianna break. it was definitely her biggest weakness but it hadn't ever been a worry to think about because, until today, none of their unsubs had a personal connection to any of the team where they would know any of the agents' weaknesses in the way that peter knew what his niece's weakness was. so, peter then decided to use it against her by turning up the level of pain on all of the equipment which effectively made spencer start to thrash around in his seat, crying out for peter to stop.

the rest of her team were barely able to continue watching as peter turned up his dial on the equipment's power grid when they heard spencer's screeches for peter to stop. and the worst part of all was that penelope and the rest of the team were nowhere near close enough to finding where on god's green earth this abandoned warehouse was in downtown virginia.

"ellianna! peter, stop it! please, leave her alone! stop it now! you've done enough, you've hurt her enough! she's bleeding, peter! please, peter....put...put her down! you're hurting her!" spencer sobbed, the hot tears streaming down his face as he thrashed around in the restrains that were stopping him from saving her himself

"spence, please, it's okay! it doesn't hurt, i promise, i can't even feel a single thing!" ellianna attempted to comfort her devastated boyfriend as peter groaned, both his plans of inflicting the most pain on his niece and making her scream and cry weren't working so, that was when he decided he needed to go a step further and bring out the big guns

"is it bad that she can't feel it, hotch?" jj questioned, her tears that had pooled in the corner of her eyes now dousing her cheeks, her head turned from the screen to her unit chief, hotch not knowing how to respond

"i...i don't know jj but just trust ellianna. trust that she knows what she's doing," hotch gulped nervously, just hoping that his not-so full proof statement was correct and that one of his very much beloved agents was going to be safe - especially after he promised that he would keep her safe

however, hotch couldn't have been more wrong in his hope for ellianna to get out of this torture alive. everything had happened so quickly that it was as though the team and spencer had just blinked before they heard a gunshot ring through the warehouse. spencer's heartwrenching and guttural screams followed shortly after as he helplessly tried to free himself from his restraints to shoot peter.

from the time it had taken the rest of the team to find the banged-up industrial warehouse that spencer and ellianna had found peter johnson in, it felt like time had slowed down. because it felt as though spencer just blinked before one other shot rang out. morgan and prentiss had rushed in within seconds. morgan had delivered the shot that hit peter in the leg, not killing him only immobilising the elderly man so the arrest would be easier. prentiss then quickly rushed over to spencer to untie him from the seat, however, that only accomplished spencer collapsing to his knees, more gutwrenching sobs and screams leaving his mouth that had come from his gut as morgan quickly discovered that ellianna's pulse was gone and that she was deceased. peter had been killing his victims with a gun, not his torture equipment and he had done the very same thing to his niece after morgan and prentiss had stormed the building because he panicked and didn't want to be caught with his final victim still alive.

morgan bit his lip as he turned to spencer, "...she...she's dead, reid..." morgan whispered out, the taller man's body going slightly numb as he watched his best friend lose himself over the loss of his girlfriend

reinforcements, including the other members of the bau, excluding penelope, and the coroner had been called to the scene. david rossi and hotch rushed over to spencer, trying to convince him to stand up off the floor and get him to the safety of an awaiting ambulance to patch up the lesions on his wrists and ankles and the dried blood on his forehead from the mild concussion. usually, in a situation like this, spencer would be fighting tooth and nail to stay with his girlfriend, however, this time, he was way too weak to even scream anymore, let alone fight against his chief in command and senior officer as they carefully helped the grief-stricken boy walk out of the warehouse and to the ambulance.

whilst rossi and hotch coerced the broken spencer out of the warehouse, prentiss, jj and morgan had the awful task of having to turn each individual piece of torture equipment off and had to wait a couple of minutes so they wouldn't blow up themselves and the entire rusting building. finally, after they were sure that everything was turned off and no longer a danger to everyone, it was time they could release their best friend, their fellow agent ellianna johnson from the ceiling restraints as they couldn't entirely ignore the large gunshot wound that was right in the middle of her chest. however, it was obvious that even together, emily and jj were not physically strong enough to get ellianna down from the ceiling so, that was morgan's next job as he grabbed her safely and carried the girl to the medical examiner who then put her body into a body bag to be then transported to the coroner's office for an official autopsy to be taken. the task after that was to then make sure all of the injuries and causes of death are checked out. meaning, spencer alongside emily was assigned the job of visiting the coroner's office to make sure that ellianna's autopsy was done correctly and could be used as well-rounded evidence against her uncle, the vicious unsub that had finally, after thirty years of killing, had been caught.

"--what was the official cause of death, doctor?" emily finally asks after radio silence from the medical examiner and the two fbi agents, spencer trying to hold himself together, his tears burning the back of his eyes, emily keeping the close eye on her grieving best friend

"traumatic brain injury due to insistent trauma and the blood loss from the gunshot wound to her stomach. the tbi started the moment she got the first head knock and then the second one only made it worse. the ongoing trauma after the knock to the head only worsened the trauma which caused internal bleeding along with external bleeding from the back and front of her head as well as her stomach after the gunshot. she didn't feel anything because her body was in survivor mode and overcompensating with the adrenaline that would have been pumping through her veins as she traiged her pain and chose to prioritise her strength," the medical examiner, a 5'3 asian female spoke softly but professionally, emily nodding her head whilst spencer looked as if he was watching ghosts

"thank you, doc. would...could you excuse us, please?" emily was soft in her question as the examiner nodded her head, not hesitating for a moment to give the two fbi agents time alone

"of course," the examiner spoke softly and escorted herself out of the room

"thank you," emily spoke quietly, the examiner now out of the room leaving only emily, spencer and the deceased body of ellianna johnson that rested on the cold metal slab, her body covered with a white sheet that was covered with bloody splotches - on her head and stomach

grabbing a soft hold on spencer's hand, emily knew it was now time to focus on bringing some comfort to her devastated best friend.

"did you hear any of that?" emily's voice was soft, whilst heartbroken, showed strength and stability as a shaky breath left the young agent's mouth, his hand stuffed into the jacket that he had been wearing since getting checked over by the paramedics

"she wasn't in any pain, spence," emily knew telling spencer that his girlfriend didn't feel a thing as she died wasn't at all going to bring the boy genius any comfort but, she knew she had to repeat it to him

silence is what was returned to emily from spencer other than a single tear from the corner of his eye. it didn't stay there for long before it was dabbed away by a tissue that the young agent had been fiddling with in his jacket pocket the entire time. it wasn't long, though, until the single tear turned into so many tears that the singular, crumpled-up tissue wasn't enough and emily pulled the inconsolable spencer reid into her arms as he sobbed and wept into her shoulder. his crumpled-up tissue covering his face as he tried to conceal the noise his sobs were making. to have this moment in the medical examiner's office broke emily's heart, it caused her the most pain in her body that ellianna never made it out of that case alive like she had promised everyone she would. now, she wasn't alive to see her uncle get his just deserts in court and wouldn't have the opportunity to testify against him - that job now going to spencer. for he was the only other viable witness to peter's crimes, ellianna, his other one deceased.

*

𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚔 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗

derek's grief over ellianna's death was unusual. it hurt the tall, chocolate-toned, slightly older male more than he'd like to admit it hurt him. because that's the type of person derek was. he wasn't the biggest fan of showing his vulnerability so, as he grieved over the loss of his best friend, ssa ellianna johnson, he tried his absolute hardest to hide it like he always did. however, this time, it was different and, he wasn't able to be as discreet about his grief as he usually was. there were times that he would have trouble just looking at certain nooks and crannies around the bau building because so much of that building was ellianna and was too reminiscent of her. however, unlike the other team members, derek only openly cried thrice over the death of ellianna. the first time was at the funeral, of which he, himself was physically and consciously aware of his tearful reaction. the second time was during a small memorial that the entire bau building had hosted for the young agent, this was a moment that derek wasn't consciously aware of his tears, not until a tissue from penelope was offered to him did he realise he was even crying. the third and final time derek cried over ellianna's death was during the court date of peter johnson. this was the worst of the three times that derek had cried. he would have thought hearing spencer, three of dozens of peter's victims, ellianna's older and younger brothers and aaron hotchner say their witness statements wouldn't have affected him in any certain way but, they did. whilst the way that three of the dozens of victims of peter, hotch and ellianna's older and younger brothers were heartbreaking statements to listen to as they had them being said with peter in the courtroom, it wasn't until spencer's tearful statement which had the detailed way in which ellianna had been murdered was spoke through gutwrenching sobs that also got derek himself weeping silently as well. that, hearing spencer weep as he spoke of the way in which peter taunted and tortured his own blood relative, his own brother's daughter, was enough to bring derek to shed tears that had been held back for years. however, it seemed as if within a month or two, derek was starting to have his life continue somewhat normally. for, he no longer had teary eyes when he looked at ellianna's empty desk that was now a memorial for the girl at the bau.

𝚓𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚞 (𝚓𝚓)

similar to derek, jj's grief over ellianna's death was strange. like everyone else's was as no grief is technically normal if it's really thought about. however, jj straight up denied that she was upset over ellianna's death. which caused so much in-team fighting and arguing. unlike derek, who finally did come forward and say he was struggling, jj did not. she tried so hard to push her grief to the back of her mind so she could take care of everyone else around her, spencer being her number one priority until he wasn't when emily told her that she could take care of him. which caused the fights because of her stubbornness and willingness to allow herself to properly grieve. everyone in the team and her own husband and sons could tell that jj was struggling but was refusing to open up and say that she wasn't actually as okay as she was making herself out to be. typically, every day, jj would either be spending time at the bau, outside of working hours, just calmly sitting crossed-legged in front of ellianna's desk that was now covered with photos and bits and bobs, where she knew she'd be alone and when she knew that if she did cry, she wouldn't get caught or before emily took over, she would be locked up in spencer and ellianna's house, trying her hardest to comfort an inconsolable spencer reid, hugging him as tightly as she could as he sobbed rivers upon rivers of tears, anguish, grief and despair over the loss of his girlfriend. until she couldn't any longer, she'd be the one to hold the tissue box for everyone if they needed it, she'd be the one to provide and initiate the hugs, she'd be the one (alongside spencer and then later emily) to check up on ellianna's family, her siblings most especially, and she would be the one that drowns herself in everyone's paperwork because those were all distractions.

these things were all distractions to stop jj from wallowing in her own painful grief that she was still so stubborn about admitting to everyone, but most especially to herself. however, it wasn't until her regular check-in call with her husband, will, that she finally admitted to her husband and herself (after trying to once again stubbornly deny it) that she really wasn't okay. as soon as that phone call to her husband was over and jj found herself unable to stop crying, that was when everyone turned in support for jj. showering her with the same love and comfort that she showered them in as emily told jj that she could now grieve as she (emily) took over all of jj's old jobs of taking care of spencer and ellianna's family until jj was able to stomach it all again.

𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚜

emily was one that struggled with the loss of ellianna in a major way. the thing that hurt emily the most about the loss of ellianna was that the older girl still had so much more things left that she wanted to say to the young thirty-year-old that, she could no longer tell them to her. it broke emily's heart to pieces that the only thing she had left of the young girl who she saw as a younger sister was the photos, videos, text messages and voicemails that she shared and coowned with ellianna. it was times like this, times of immense grief, that emily just wished that she had eidetic memory as spencer did. she'd only wished that she had the eidetic memory so she could remember every single thing, small, medium and big, that she did with and alongside her best friend. all she wanted was just to remember the reason that she made ellianna laugh or smile on the fifth day of the sixth month one year ago because emily's biggest fear was forgetting everything about her best friend, ssa ellianna johnson. whilst it was known how well emily could hold back her tears and suppress her emotions, she could do it well especially when she took over jj's job of consoling spencer and ellianna's family. when it came to the loss and grieving process of ellianna, it seemed as if anything and everything about her best friend for a while made the older girl teary-eyed. one of the many things that would consume emily's time and grieving process when she wasn't visiting spencer or the rest of the johnson family, was to go back through her phone and look back at the photos, watch back those videos, read those text messages and listen to those voicemails left behind by ellianna. when emily was looking through her phone records to find her favourite voice message that ellianna had sent her, she hadn't realised that the morning before ellianna's death, she had a missed call from the young agent. that was just enough to tear open emily's heart and make her cry, however, it wasn't until her shaky finger pressed the play button to the voicemail and heard her best friend's voice again that really made the older agent cry more.

ellianna

"hey em, it's just me, ellianna. i'm sorry if i've called you at the wrong time, which, i most likely have considering you didn't answer and we've just been called out to our case. thank god it's a local one, am i right? but, anyway, that's not the point, the point is that i just thought i'd ring you just in case something was to go pear-shaped and slightly wrong... umm, if peter does go off the rails and escalates and ends up killing me, please don't cry over me all the time. even though that sounds harsh, just know that i wouldn't have felt a single thing and i died with the biggest smile on my face because he didn't get the chance to hurt you guys or spencer let alone any other teenager or child. also, i just have one wish though in regards if my uncle does end up killing me. please, take care of yourself but, also take care of spence. if i get murdered, it'll absolutely knock him down for six and flip his whole world around on its head. please, make sure that he doesn't shut down and run away from everyone as he did after maeve. but, do let him cry for as long as he has to. but, also, promise that he'll start smiling again as i would love to see him be happy again. if he can find it within himself, i want to see him fall in love again, i want to see him get married and become a father. he deserves all the happiness in the world and, i know he felt his happiest when we were together and, i feel the same exact same way but, i seriously doubt i'll make it out of today's case alive and in all honesty, i'm okay with that..."

"...please don't cry over me for too long, okay emily? and, if you could play this voicemail to the rest of the team, i'd be most grateful. i love you guys all so much, and that is not a word of a lie. you guys gave me a purpose in this world and you guys gave me something i never thought was possible. being a part of the bau for the last ten years has brought me some of the happiest memories contrary to the horror and trauma we've seen and gone through, if i could repeat it and go back in time, i would do it all again if it meant i could spend more time with you guys. i love you all so much and, please, emily, never stop smiling... oh and, please, reconsider your resignation. i don't want you to leave, especially if it's after my death. this team will need you more than ever after i die if i die today, and, i wouldn't wish for you to resign so early when you've still got too much power and drive left in you. okay, uhh, i gotta go as spencer's giving me a look of "i need to hurry up"... so, umm, bye emily prentiss and to the rest of my beautiful, powerful family that is the behavioural analysis unit. i love you all so much, it's been a pleasure to be a part of this family, ellianna johnson,"

after hearing that voicemail, whilst it destroyed emily and the rest of the team to their cores, it also brought them loads of comfort and became the source of their comfort and roads to individual recovery - spencer's included. however, emily kept her best friend's promise and revoked her resignation and she decided to stay with the bau because it was the final wish of her best friend, ellianna johnson, supervisory special agent.

𝚍𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚍

it was quite obvious from the beginning as to who would be the most grief-stricken from ellianna's murder. the moment that ellianna sacrificed herself to save her boyfriend's life, spencer was terrified and already beginning to start in his grieving process. he knew he wouldn't be able to save her and that the rest of their team would be too slow in finding the warehouse in time to save them both and that devastated him the most with that being the main reason for his heightened grief and devastation. spencer drowned in grief for days that spanned over weeks and then months. over those months, he had cried tears that could have also been tears shed due to all of his other past traumas that had resurfaced after the death of his ultimate lover. whilst he appreciated the comfort that jj and then emily alongside the rest of the team supplied him with, nothing was going to bring him more comfort than ellianna being home, her shoulder being the shoulder he cried on, not jj's or emily's or anyone else's. no one else's shoulder brought spencer the same amount of comfort that his girlfriend's warmth and light gave him. in regards to crying, that meant that he was easily going through at least five kleenex boxes a day, maybe even six or seven if he was really crying a lot. the toughest part about ellianna's death wasn't the fact that wept his way through the entire funeral, barely able to stay on his own two feet without collapsing whilst he said the eulogy that he had written for her but, the court date for peter johnson's trial where spencer, amongst others from ellianna's family, his unit chief hotch, to some of peter johnson's survivors had taken to the witness stand and testify against the serial killer and prove evidence to why peter johnson should be jailed for the rest of his living, breathing days. that day was an absolute nightmare for the grieving boy wonder. he had never been so helpless, vulnerable and empty in his entire life until that moment. he had to tell the judge and the entire court from start to finish of ellianna's torture and murder because he was, other than peter himself, the only other witness to the serial murder that could testify against the elderly man, emily and jj who watched through the live feed had tried to coerce the judge into having either or both of them to testify but weren't allowed to because whilst they did witness it, they didn't see all of it as spencer had done. the sobs that left the doctor's mouth as he tried to get through his witness statement wracked his body as he tried as hard as he could to calm down to a state in which his speech could be understood clearly. which, when he did, it seemed just as unbearable for the judge and the fellow jury members to hear what had happened to the young ssa ellianna johnson without either feeling sick to their stomachs or bursting out into their own fits of tears.

by the time peter johnson's trial had finished and was successfully found guilty only after one hour of deliberation and sentenced to life imprisonment with the possibility of being placed on death row, it felt as though all the tears that dehydrated and exhausted spencer's body weren't cried for no reason. finally, after thirty years, ellianna had her family's last name no longer dragged through the mud because their serial killer uncle, son, brother and grandfather had now been placed behind bars forever where he was no longer capable of torturing and killing anyone else. the one positive of ellianna's death for spencer was the fact that her family and all the other families of the deceased and surviving victims were also finally given justice, peace and just a small slither of closure as to what happened to their loved ones that never got to come home like ellianna wasn't allowed to.

- - -

yes, i rewrote all of it, including this author's note, don't @ me, i've started rewatching criminal minds again and i hated how i originally wrote the majority of my cm one-shots so you will most likely see them rewritten in lowercase haha.

ok ily bye xx

wc; 7307

[fearsmagazine]

SAW THE MUSICAL: THE UNAUTHORIZED PARODY OF SAW - Review

DATES: Sunday, Oct. 1, 2023 to Jan 1st, 2024 COMPANY: Cooper Jordan Entertainment THEATER: AMT Theatre, 345 West 45th Street, new York, NY ACTORS: Bart Shatto, Adam Parbhoo, Jill Owen, and Donnell Johnson. CREW: Created by Cooper Jordan; Book Zoe Ann Jordan; Music & lyrics by Patrick Spencer & Anthony De Angelis; Directed by Stephanie Rosenberg; Music direction by Leigh Pomeranz; Sound Designer Ryan Gravett; Fight Director Dan Renkin; Production Manager Sarah Thurmond; Production Stage Manager Gabrielle P. Guagenti

SYNOPSIS: “SAW The Musical captures the events of the first movie, parodying the Saw that started it all. Lawrence Gordon and Adam Stanheight find each other for the first time in the bathroom trap. Will they follow "the rules" as they discover each other's secrets? Will they escape the game in time and “saw” right through? A love story with fluidity (and lots more fluids), SAW The Musical: The Unauthorized Parody pushes the boundary on sexuality and how to love.” -Press Release

REVIEW: Even though they are related, there's a fine line between comedy, parody and satire. A satire can be painful, and not necessarily in a good way. SAW THE MUSICAL: THE UNAUTHORIZED PARODY OF SAW, after a run in Philadelphia comes to New York Off-Broadway this Halloween season.

The plot follows that of James Wan & Leigh Whannell 2004 film and mixes in a healthy bunch of musical numbers and satire. One of the key driving forces of the satire is the quickly blossoming sexual tension between Adam and Dr. Gordon. Other characters from the film, Jigsaw, Amanda and Zep receive some coverage and you can’t have “Saw” without the puppet, even making an appearance on a tricycle. The sexual innuendos felt crafted more for shock value than to be witty, as they fell flat on this viewer’s ears and seemed more sophomoric than cleaver.

In contrast, several of the songs were funny and witty, several feeling also sophomoric. As a fan of Monty Python, I’m also a fan of their song book. They could be off-color and vulgar, but had sharp witted lyrics and you understood the satire. Songs like “Saw Right Through,” "I'm Your Heroine," “I Want to Play a Game,” and “Pig in a Wig” come close, while songs like “Filthy Things” felt like they were pounding home the joke at the audience’s expense. The musical tracks were played over a nice sound system. However, there were a few times where the singers were off key. Actress Jill Owen had some of the best musical numbers in the show, but alas she was off key a few times.

The trio of actors are put through their paces with numerous scene changes and custom swaps that leave them little time to catch their breath between songs. During the performance I attended the blackouts were rather long and one of them they rest the musical cue as the actors were not ready by the end of the first go round. The production felt a bit chaotic as the costumes and props constantly felt a tad out of place. At one point the puppet seemed to be falling apart.

I went into SAW THE MUSICAL: THE UNAUTHORIZED PARODY OF SAW with a clean slate, no expectations, hoping for a few good laughs. There were times I felt the play dragging, the energy levels dipping between musical numbers. I didn’t have a bad time, just not a good one. Granted it is an Off-Broadway production, staged in a black box theater, and there were some likable things about the production. The level of the performance I attended felt more like an off-off-off Broadway production and left me feeling less invigorated and feeling more like I needed a nap. It could have been an off night, as I saw the play a week prior to its opening night, but I still have a few issues with the writing that make for a lackluster recommendation.

SAW THE MUSICAL: THE UNAUTHORIZED PARODY OF SAW begins performances on September 16, 2023, at AMT Theater, located at 345 West 45th Street. It will play on Saturdays at 11 PM and Sundays at 5 PM (after 2pm & 8pm Broadway curtains come down), running 100 minutes with no intermission. Tickets are $41-$113 (incl. fees). Extremely limited “Super Saw VIP Front Row Seats” including The Bathroom Mirror Merch Box are available for every performance for $113 total ($110 + $3 fee), VIP Front Rows A-B at $98 ($95 + $3 fee), Premium at $78 ($75 + $3 fee), Orchestra at $61 ($58 + $ 3 fee) & Rear Orchestra / Mezz at $41 ($38 plus $3 fee) and are available by visiting SawtheMusical.com or at the AMT Theater Box Office in person or by calling 646-543-4385. All VIP Seats include “Pictures with Pigs in Wigs” on Stage following the performance.

Review By: Joseph B Mauceri

[misterkevinbriansatterwhite]

Biography of Kevin Brian Satterwhite, Children's Book Author

I was born and raised in Durham, NC.  I am disabled and was diagnosed with schizophrenia back in 2015.  I am a recovering drug addict and have been clean and sober since 2019, after nearly twenty years of drug abuse and addiction.  I learned how to write cursive and count to one hundred before I entered first grade.  I spent most of my youth in boy scouts, karate, gymnastics, team sports, and performing arts - and I continue to be well known throughout my community.  I have been a creative writer for many years and consider myself a professional story developer.  I was diagnosed with ADHD in 2012 and have only completely read one novel in my entire life which is Call It Courage by Armstrong Sperry.  Some of my most memorable books as a child are - Goose Goofs-off by Jacquelyn Reinach, Surprise Party by Sharon Gordon, The Berenstain Bears books by Jan and Stan Berenstain, Where’s Waldo by Martin Handford, The Value of Believing in Yourself: The Story of Louis Pasteur by Spencer Johnson M.D., and a book about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. by an author I don’t recall.

I am a first time author and have recently completed sixteen children's books.  I kept thirteen books for myself and ghost wrote three for my longtime friend.  One of my books is currently being published by Archway Publishing from Simon and Schuster.  As a youth and now as an adult, I have always been surrounded by people of many different colors, cultures, and ethnicities which is reflected in my work.  My picture books include subjects about - cross-gender friendships, gender identity, block parties, race/color, immigration, and growing up in the inner city.  I have also written a children’s novel by virtue of the conflict between Israel and Palestine, in hopes to have a positive impact within Jewish and Arab communities around the world.  As someone with a formal education, I believe it is my responsibility to help children develop as avid readers and writers - at an early age.  By virtue of my love for writing and years of experience - I believe several of the books that I’ve written - have the potential to be developed - for broadway, television, and film.

I was raised in a culture of book fairs, book clubs, and educational programs - which included the likes of Scholastics and Pizza Hut.  As a youth I participated in a jump rope jamboree with Durham’s Bouncing Bulldogs.  I visited educational camps at Duke University.  I also volunteered at the Museum of Life and Science.  I attended preschool and kindergarten at St. Joseph’s Episcopal Church - where I was a student of Jane Hurlburt’s Montessori Family School in Durham, NC.  As a child I attended KinderCare and YMCA.  For elementary school - I went to Pearsontown and Southwest.  After having attentive and behavioral issues - I went to Camelot Academy - which is a small K-12 private school founded by Thelma DeCarlo-Glynn - which is also in Durham.  My grades improved and I returned to public school for seventh and eighth grade.  At Sherwood Githens Middle School I was a member of the - Esquires and the Sophisticated Gents - program that taught me - respect, responsibility, and self-worth.  I eventually became a member of the - Mentors - learning more from my younger peers - than I ever could have taught them.  

Growing up - I was a member of St. Joseph AME Church where I attended church and Sunday school.  When visiting my grandparents in Clinton, NC - I went to Vacation Bible School and still remember singing, Lift Every Voice and Sing - before going outside for recess.  I broke every drum set, guitar, and saxophone my parents bought for me - as a gift during my childhood.  Somehow I managed not to break my violin and have been playing since the age of five.  As a youth, I performed in violin competitions at Meredith College which was always a truly wondrous experience - although I wasn’t very good at the violin.  I’ve performed in local malls and shopping centers - including Brightleaf Square - during the holiday season with a children’s orchestra led by my childhood violin teacher - Hjourdis Tourian.  I began piano lessons in 1994.  After not being allowed to play drums in my middle school band because of my late reentry into public schools - I continued violin and piano lessons outside of school.  I’ve had three different piano teachers however, I spent most of my time learning from Barbara Leder in Chapel Hill, NC.  I participated in annual recitals and while I had difficulty practicing at home - I really loved playing the piano.  After graduating middle school - I stopped taking music lessons when I was accepted via lottery into Durham Magnet Center - now Durham School of the Arts.  Instead of my parents having to drive around town for my lessons - I simply took classes in - electric piano and orchestra - which allowed me to practice more frequently.  DSA opened in 1995 for students in grades 6-8.  Each year a grade was added.  Their first high school class graduated in 2000.  I attended Durham School of the Arts from 1996-1997 as a freshman and a sophomore.  It was one of the greatest experiences of my life.

As a teenager, I performed in an orchestra at Durham Bulls athletic park during a holiday event - led by my orchestra teacher Mr. Boyd Gibson.  I competed on an undefeated track team at Durham School of the Arts, although we had high school freshmen on our team and we competed against middle schools.  I got a job at a movie theater as soon as I could work.  My sophomore year at DSA I was selected by Kathleen Graves to be a student in a class of only twenty-five performers - known as the DMC Players (before the school's official name change to Durham School of the Arts).  It was truly challenging.  I’m thankful that my environment was comforting rather than competitive.  I was more moved by observing than I was performing.  The students in that class were phenomenal.  That same school year I auditioned for a play about civil rights.  It was a series of multiple one-act plays and thankfully I landed a small, but powerful part.  Unfortunately, I don’t recall the name of the play.  However, I do remember singing, We Shall Overcome - as each show began.  I was proud to be a member of that ensemble.  We were originally only supposed to have three performances - and the show had such an impact on the community that - there were nine performances in all.  Civil rights leader C. T. Vivian attended the final show to a packed house.  I was too humble to help myself to a conversation, but grew as a person and a performer because of the experience.  Near the end of the school year, I performed in a comedic show of one-act plays.  The crowd was so amused that after the show - I was approached by the schools technical director, Mr. Deter - and told that I had the audience in the palms of my hands.  The vice-principle must have overheard the sentiment and repeated the conversation during a seminar full of students, without naming the subjects.  I was too young to realize the positive impact it would have on my life - and simply remained quiet and respectful - amongst my peers.  

My junior and senior year I attended C. E. Jordan High School to be closer to my sister and perform in theater on a higher level with upperclassmen.  My theater arts teacher was Hope Hynes Love who now works in the Chapel Hill-Carrboro City School System.  While anxious about singing and dancing - I was casted for a small part in Grease after declining an opportunity to audition for a lead role.  The following school year, I auditioned for the part of Theseus and was eventually casted as Philostrate in William Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.  Under Hope’s continuously nurturing supervision - I performed a monologue from James Baldwins’ Amen Corner - in a performing arts competition at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts.  While I didn’t receive recognition for my soliloquy - I was pleased with my performance.  My interest in the arts evolved when I realized I needed to focus more on employment than performing.  I knew that moving to Los Angeles one day would take money - and if I couldn’t save any - then I could at least have the skills and experience to survive - when I arrived in such a big city.  In addition to a movie theater - some of my earliest places of employment included - a local pizza restaurant and a drug store.

My senior year of high school my father, Otis Satterwhite introduced me to a performing arts instructor Jospeh Henderson, whom he met while working in the Durham Public Schools system.  I eventually met Joseph’s wife at the time, now Cynthia Penn-Halal - who is a visiting professor at UNCSA.  Joseph and Cynthia were very diligent - and dedicated to the arts.  They embraced me with guidance and grace.  Upon meeting them - I performed with two other high schoolers and a multitude of sixth grade students - in a play written and directed by Joseph Henderson and choreographed by Cynthia Penn-Halal.  The beautiful story titled, In Our Time - took the audience on an emotional journey through American history.  It was performed at The Carolina Theatre in Durham in front of a packed house of - sixth grade students, parents, and teachers.  I appeared in the local newspaper and was even congratulated by one of my high school teachers.  Before going to college I worked for Jospeh and Cynthia at Walltown Children’s Theater as a camp counselor.  Joseph suggested I go to UNCSA.  He had a plan for me to get a good paying job, go to UNCSA, and hopefully audition someday for Law & Order.  Mr. Henderson got me an interview at Nana’s - which is an upscale restaurant in Durham, NC.  I got hired the day of my interview and never went back.  I eventually decided to attend Barry University, which is a small private Catholic university in Miami Shores, FL.  Barry University is one of the most diverse schools in the southeast.  It was a great opportunity to develop long lasting relationships with people all over the world.  

Being raised in Durham - I had the honor of growing up in the company of outstanding and wonderful youth.  To name a few - acclaimed architect - Frederick A. Davis II, accomplished scholar and educator - Pierce Freelon, cultural organizer and artist - Dasan Ahanu, community builder and rap artist - Joshua Gunn, and world-renowned poet and rap artist - George Yamazawa.  I don’t speak with everyone from my past on a regular basis, but I remain in contact with most of them through social media.  While at Barry I majored in broadcast communication and minored in theater arts.  In a competition between broadcast communication students from Barry University, FIU, and the University of Miami - I received an award from Miami-Dade Metropolitan Planning Organization, now Transportation Planning Organization for a PSA that I wrote, produced, and directed.  Upon winning the award, one of my broadcast communication professors, Dr. Hoffman suggested that I seek an internship at a top marketing firm, whose name I don’t recall.  He encouraged me academically and advised me that my confidence needed improvement.  At Barry I performed in plays and musicals such as - Hello, Dolly!, Pippin, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, You Can’t Take It with You, and One Flew Over Cuckoo’s Nest.  My most notable portrayals are Lewis in Pippin and Mr. Turkle in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, for which I received an award for - Most Comedic Performance - after being instructed by my professor, the late Susan Dempsey to write additional lines for the character.  When I was home from college during the summers - I performed at the Black Theatre Festival in Winston-Salem, NC in a prose poetry multimedia play written and directed by Herman LeVern Jones, who once worked as an actor on Guiding Light.  During the summer months back home - I’ve also delivered newspapers, I helped people register to vote, I worked for Exxon at Durham Bulls Athletic Park, and even performed as an extra on Dawson’s Creek.

My first internship prior to graduation was at a public relations firm in Brickell just south of Downtown Miami.  I worked on a campaign for GOL TV, which is an American sports channel dedicated to soccer.  I enjoyed my time at the PR firm and it was truly a great experience.  Although there was somewhat of a language barrier, it didn’t prevent me from asking two of the firm's executives to come into class for an interview - along with my sociology professor - about race in corporate America.  I’m still incredibly thankful for their graciousness and willingness to share their experiences.  Before graduating my professor and former WPLG Local 10 reporter, Connie Hicks got me an internship at WPLG.  I learned from a variety of professionals about videotape operating, editing, and producing.  I had the opportunity to work alongside - Laurie Jennings, Neki Mohan, and Kristi Krueger - who were some of the most prominent journalists in South Florida.  From there I landed a job at WSVN Channel 7 as a videotape operator.  It was the highest rated local news station in Miami - during the time that I was there.  I was incredibly proud of myself for finding a career right after college.  I was devoted to my job in the news and once drove to work during a hurricane.  I also recall working every single day - in the tape center - for an entire month - during the holidays.  Instead of complaining about my low paying stressful job - I simply gave it my all and focused on the future.  I took the writing test twice before I was hired as a writer for the morning news - and was shortly promoted to the evening broadcasts.  I trained aspiring journalists, some of which became executive producers and at least one was a reporter.  I wrote news stories and packages for on air talent.  I once wrote an entertainment news package about the film Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest.  I originally wrote it for the evening news.  The package eventually aired on South Florida’s top entertainment show Deco Drive.  WSVN was a great environment.  During my time there - the entire staff was very helpful and hopeful.  I am fortunate to forever be a member of a community of such outstanding broadcast journalism professionals.  At WSVN I learned from and worked under some of the best and brightest in the business.  Some of my coworkers from WSVN included - WSVN News Anchor Belkys Nerey, WSVN News Anchor Craig Stevens, ABC13 Meteorologist Elita Loresca, CNN Correspondent Carlos Suarez, and KTLA 5 News Executive Producer Marcus Smith.  I also met Joel Brown at WSVN.  He is now an anchor at WTVD in Durham, NC.  I eventually decided to quit my low paying job as a writer for the news - so that I could save money and pursue the arts.  Before leaving WSVN I was training to become an associate producer.  However, my mind was made up and while I thoroughly enjoyed working for the news - the prospect wasn’t enough to keep me in the industry.  After quitting my job as a writer - I worked as a mortgage banker prior to the real estate industry collapse.  I decided real estate was not a good fit for me and moved to NC for two years.  In 2010 I finally made my way out to Los Angeles to pursue acting and music.  My drug addiction got the best of me and after four really difficult years - I returned to Durham to live with my mother. 

Some of my other work history also includes - waiting tables at two high-end sushi restaurants, sales associate at Adidas Originals, production assistant at the American Black Film Festival, event staff at The Party Staff, and technical assistant at Barry University.  My friend, the late Isaac Mallory from Barry University referred me to now closed Shoji Sushi in South Beach.  I was hired as an expeditor and initially failed my employment test after being confused between nigiri and sashimi.  The manager allowed me to take the test again - after I informed him that I would make no excuses for my mistakes.  I explained the reason behind my errors and promised to improve.  I passed the test and shortly after - I was promoted to a serving position.  At one point - I was the only “black” server on staff.  I eventually started doing deliveries on my days off - and even catered a gathering in a high-rise luxury condominium building.  The former owner of Shoji Sushi, Myles Chefetz is owner of world famous Prime One Twelve.  One of my greatest memories in the restaurant business was being selected to serve a Cb5 executive when working at now closed TATU Asian Bar & Grill, when she was visiting the establishment.  My additional lifetime accomplishments include - performing in spoken word poetry competitions, becoming a musician, and developing a story for my screenplay - with a storyline comparable to Star Wars.  One of my favorite babysitters as a child was my television set.  My creativity was shaped by - Steven Spielberg, Carol Burnett, and Michael Jackson before I knew the importance of expression and imagination.  

In my short life I have lost countless family members, close friends, acquaintances, and an abstruse number of college buddies.  By virtue of such an experience - I cherish my life and see the immense value of the lives of others.  My family believes strongly in education.  My father is a disabled veteran.  He was an accomplished insurance salesman and also worked as a substitute teacher for Durham Public Schools.  He attended North Carolina Central University and received his bachelor’s degree in business.  My mother attended the University of North Carolina and was a nurse at Duke Hospital for many years.  My younger sister studied sociology at Columbia University and has an MBA from UNC.  She has worked as a marketing manager at Belk, Amazon, and Facebook.  My older sister resides in Charlotte, NC and is the mother of two amazing children.  Some of my extended family and lifelong friends are doctors, lawyers, artists, computer engineers, and medical sales professionals.  

Growing up in Durham, NC - I was surrounded by the glory of college basketball.  It was truly amazing watching collegiate athletes blossom into professional basketball players.  I have a great deal of gratitude for the culture because I believe it provided me with the experience to know how to conduct myself in the company of public figures.  By the time I was thirty years old - I had lived in Los Angeles, Miami, Charlotte, NC, and Washington, D.C.  Over the years I brushed shoulders with a variety of famous actors and musicians.  Meeting prominent male and female figures in person - gave me the opportunity to see what I could achieve through work ethic and dedication.  By virtue of my life experience and the wisdom I have gained over the years I continue to grow as an individual each and everyday.  While I have overcome many obstacles - I remain focused on five pillars of production that make me proud of the path that I have ultimately chosen.  Those pillars are - love, faith, hope, healing, and freedom.  As an author with a marketable personality - I believe that I can reach young readers, parents, and educators - from a variety of demographics - throughout the world.

[ncisfranchise-source]

All I ever wanted was cake.

Over the past 20-plus years, CBS’ NCIS has blown through many a milestone — 100 episodes! 200 episodes! 300! 400! — and usually with party that served a Cake Shaped Like a Number.

Each and every time, the running joke went, I would nag the show’s publicity team about my never getting a slice, despite my ongoing coverage of TV’s most-watched franchise — all while of course knowing that my being based out of the East Coast, 3,000 miles away from NCIS’ Santa Clarita nerve center, was a stumbling block.

But when CBS and CBS Studios officially celebrated the start of filming of the franchise’s 1,000th episode, which airs this Monday at 9/8c, I am happy to report that I finally got my piece of a Cake Shaped Like a Number.

Plus a walk-on role, as icing on said cake….

Photo : Robert Voets/CBS

I have no lines in the episode “A Thousand Yards.” And if you blink when Gary Cole and Spencer Moore II step off the elevator into the squad room, midway through the episode, you will miss me. But it is me, Mom, playing Federal Agent Intently Walking a Very Important Folder Across the Room.

While not as splashy a role as, say, Body of Proof gravedigger, playing Special Agent Key — the name that I and only I gave him (as in kilo/1,000) — required some prep and grooming. Shortly after arriving at set, I was whisked away to Vicky Stevens in wardrobe, who handed me a very federal agent-y grey suit, complete with well-worn wingtips that I can most charitably describe as “government-issue.” (I guess Uncle Sam frowns on Bruno Magli.)

Upon fully “suiting up” back at wardrobe, I bumped into and chatted up Bones vet T.J. Hynes, who was guest-starring in the episode as a tech titan. (Scoop!) By keeping my eyes and ears open, I would also glean that Daniela Ruah and Vanessa Lachey would appear in this milestone episode, as NCIS: LA’s Kensi and NCIS: Hawai’i’s Jane. (More scoop!) I also spent a minute hanging out with Christopher Waild, who wrote the episode and teased some of the Easter eggs he’d scattered throughout. (More scoop!)

Shh, don't tell McGee I sat at his desk.

Photo : Matt Mitovich

Easy enough, yes. But I assure you that the first thought that enters your head — especially if you learned anything from Smash‘s Karen — is: Gosh, I hope I don’t pull focus from Gary Cole! So at first I went with a thousand-yard stare, which given the episode’s title seemed fitting. But after the first take, I started doing some “character work” and asked myself: Why is Agent Key approaching this female agent as a stranger, when they’ve quite possibly been working together for years? So for the next couple of tales, I adjusted my gaze from being “detached” to one of familiarity. (I shared my “process” with Patricia Flores, the background actor who played the recipient of my folder, and she was, I want to say, amused.)

Plot twist! Just when I thought I had my performance nailed, Jeb came up to me with new direction from the milestone episode’s director, Diana Valentine: “Can you walk faster? Double-time it?”

I gotta say, this threw me a bit, especially since I hadn’t done any stretching — plus my government shoes were a bit slippery — but I channeled everything that Strasberg, Hagen, Meisner et al had taught me and amazingly didn’t end up accidentally shoulder-checking Gary Cole a single time. 

Scott Williams, Gary Cole, Katrina Law, Rocky Carroll, Sean Murray, Brian Dietzen, Amy Reisenbach, Wilmer Valderrama, George Cheeks, Diona Reasonover, David Stapf, Chris O’Donnell, David J. North, Christopher Silber, Steven Binder, Charles Johnson, Christopher J. Waild and Mark Horowitz

Photo : Courtesy of Robert Voets/CBS

Once the scene was filmed to Diana Valentine’s satisfaction, I changed back into my Matt Mitovich wardrobe while the squad room set was modified into serving as an event space, where dozens upon dozens would soon assemble for the official “1,000th episode” ceremony.

NCIS co-showrunners Steven D. Binder and David North were joined by their entire cast as well as visiting NCIS: LA alum Chris O’Donnell and — appearing via Zoom — onetime NCIS: New Orleans front man Scott Bakula (in New York for the Broadway musical The Connector), the NCIS: Hawai’i cast (congregated in their own HQ) and co-showrunner Jan Nash, and NCIS: Sydney leads Olivia Swann and Todd Lasance.

Following several laudatory speeches and (many) permutations of group photos taken with The Cake Shaped Like a Number, the actors and NCIS showrunners chatted with me and a select few peers on a short press line.

Cole’s first words to me were kudos for my performance (ha!), after which I asked/begged the showrunners not to cut me from the episode. Brian Dietzen and I had a nice moment, having Zoomed/both gotten emotional just days earlier about the David McCallum tribute episode he’d penned; Diana Reasonover absolutely crushed the NCIS trivia quiz I was running by everyone (alas, that video ran into a snafu), whereas Wilmer Valderrama… didn’t; Sean Murray (now the longest-running cast member) gave some great teases; and you don’t need me to tell you it’s always great to see the effervescent Katrina Law in person.

Once the press line wrapped, I sat with Rocky Carroll at lunch, then dove into my slice of NCIS cake that had been 1.5 decades in the making.

SPOILER ALERT! The Cake Shaped Like a Number? Turns out it is usually just a frosted foam prop used for the photo op, while the actual slices served to everyone come from a regular ol’ cake.

Even so, my experience as Agent Key was a sweet one, indeed.

[aurorabayrpg]

Welcome to Aurora Bay [VANJIE, ARIA, and MISSA]! We hope you enjoy your stay! Please send in your accounts within 24 hours to secure [THOMAS WEATHERALL, LUCY HALE, CAMILLA MARRONE, and AUBREY PLAZA] as your faceclaims, and please be sure to review our checklist and make sure you read our guidelines! **Chase William's Wife WC and Carter Johnson's Ex-Wife WC are now taken**

48/50 muns taken

[cis man and he-they] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [CHRISTOPHER "KIT" BLACKTHORN]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [THOMAS WEATHERALL]. You must be the [TWENTY SIX] year old [WRITER]. Word is you’re [CHARMING] but can also be a bit [CHAOTIC] and your favorite song is [JEALOUS BY LABRYNTH]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

[cis female, she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [POPPY SPENCER]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [LUCY HALE]. You must be the [THIRTY] year old [KEEPER AT AQUATICA AQUARIUM]. Word is you’re [FRIENDLY] but can also be a bit [RECKLESS] and your favorite song is [DARKSIDE BY NEONI]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

[cisfemale and she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [DELFINA FRANCIS]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [CAMILA MARRONE]. You must be the [TWENTY-SIX] year old [SINGER + FRONT DESK ASSOCIATE (CORAL COTTAGE B&B)]. Word is you’re [AMICABLE] but can also be a bit [RESERVED] and your favorite song is [CLARITY BY VANCE JOY]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it!  Chase William’s Wife

[cisfemale and she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [REYNA JOHNSON]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [AUBREY PLAZA]. You must be the [THIRTY-SIX] year old [REAL ESTATE AGENT]. Word is you’re [PRAGMATIC] but can also be a bit [PESSIMISTIC] and your favorite song is [KIDS BY MGMT]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [AURORA BAY DRIVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it! Carter Johnson’s Ex-Wife

[claudiajessies]

heyyy it's your psc santa here! hope you're having a great day <3 to get to know you better, i'd love to know who your ultimate blorbos are!! please share all your thoughts and keysmashes!!

hiiiii, this is so exciting ahhhhh!

okokokok i have so many lorbos and they tend to go in rotation based on my mood and new tv releases, so i'll try and narrow down to some of my ultimate ones so you're not here all day reading this dfyuiop;hjk[

i have recently been rewatching teen wolf so my lydia martin & stydia fixation has reignited, if you couldn't tell from my icon and themes lmaooo

i would say my ultimate blorbo of 2022 would be aliison hargreeves because i finally got into the umbrella academy this year, and even though her actions and behaviour were certainly questionable this season and the viktor & allison relationship breakdown broke my heart, i felt for her pain and still love her unconditionally ;-;

max mayfield and lucas sinclair was a huge highlight for stranger things 4 this year for me, they both finally got the time to shine and wasn't it lovely how absolutely nothing bad happened to them and they got their happy ending and got to go on their movie date, the end. !!!!!!!!

i also fell in love with eloise bridgerton & kate sharma this year <3

iris west-allen, buffy summers, prue halliwell, amy santiago, jennifer jareau, spencer reid, rachel roth & daisy johnson are also huge ultimate favourites and top contenders for blorboship asdfghjkl

I really hope that is helpful for you and i hope you also have a great day! <33

[writer-in-theory]

lost in the moment — spencer reid

request: I was wondering if you’d write something where Spencer and reader work at the BAU together, but reader is hard of hearing/wears hearing aids. There are times they take out their hearing aids when they get overstimulated, or when they’re really trying to focus on details of the case without background noise. Spencer doesn’t know that and has been trying to ask them out, but is getting mad because he thinks they’re outright ignoring him. Then when he finds out, he feels silly, that sort of thing? summary: spencer finally works up the courage to ask you out, but what he doesn’t realize is you’ve taken your hearing aids out after getting overstimulated. pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader category: fluff content warnings: brief discussions of overstimulation (sound-based) word count: 1.4k a/n: thanks for this prompt, i had a good time writing this and i hope it’s what you were looking for! i took most of the experiences and thoughts here from consulting with my brother who wears hearing aids, so please let me know if anyone sees anything i can improve upon in terms of representation. 

summer of fics masterlist masterlist want to join my taglist?

Ring. Clash. “I know, Sheriff Johnson, we’ll be out as soon as we ca—” Screech. “Hey, have you seen the s—”

No.

Though you often appreciated your hearing aids for all the help they gave, this time you were grateful for the chance to take them out of your ears for only a few minutes. It was a needed reprieve after spending all day on such an open office floor where there was nothing to block out all of the sounds of a busy team from assailing your ears.

It wasn’t every day that you needed a break, or even every week. There were times when the BAU profiling team was out on a case and the floor would be just quiet enough that you could manage all day where, upon getting to your apartment, you’d remove your hearing aids for the rest of the day.

Penny had noticed, once, that you needed these reprieves from the noise. You’d explained to her that your aids amplified everything, not just the sounds you needed to hear, and immediately she’d understood. She would start making sure you had moments left alone where you could remove them, could have a time where you worked in near quiet. 

Spencer Reid hadn’t noticed what you did yet, though. For all his observations in the field, when it came to you he desperately needed help. All he knew, was that this was the first day back after a long case away and he wanted to tell you what he’d realized before he lost the courage that Derek and Emily had instilled in him.

When his friends found out about his “office crush”, they were overjoyed. You were sweet, they told him, you were perfect for him. They were sure you would say yes if he asked, they’d noticed that sometimes your gaze would linger on him the same way he’d look at you. It didn’t seem possible to Spencer that his affections for you would be returned in kind, but he also knew better than to not trust his friends with these matters.

So he accepted their coaching all week to make a good impression on you. He worked and worked until Spencer had what he wanted to say to you completely memorized in case he got nervous.

“Y/N?” he called when Spencer finally walked through the office to where your desk lay. You’d requested it to be moved away from the middle of the floor like many of the others on your branch of the team, off to the side of the room where there were fewer distractions. 

“I just wanted to tell you that, you know I—” Take a breath, deep breaths this was you. Spencer was always comfortable around you, why should he be so nervous now? “I really like you, and I’d love it if you and I went on a date.” Spencer rushed out the final sentence, fighting the furious blush in his cheeks and the lump in his throat. 

He was proud of himself, too. He’d been wanting to ask you out for weeks now, not long after JJ had helped him realize what he felt for you. Spencer would never admit to you that it took three of his friends to convince him to stand here now, but it didn’t matter because he was here and he finally asked you on a date.

And you didn’t respond. You didn’t even look up, still continuing to work on the page right in front of you.

Were you that annoyed with him, that shocked by the question that you wouldn’t even acknowledge what happened? The least you could do was say no, tell him directly that you’d rather continue being friends than start anything else.

It was only when Spencer sighed and moved to walk away that he saw it. Your hearing aids were sitting on the other side of your desk, previously concealed by your hand from where he’d been standing. It made Spencer want to laugh, the idea that he’d finally worked up the courage to confess his love, had gotten it right despite all the fears that he would mess it up somehow, and you hadn’t heard him.

So Spencer reached over, tapping his fingers gently on the desk in your line of vision. It was the way you’d taught him to get your attention if you couldn’t hear him, a way to not completely scare you by tapping on your shoulder or shouting like many people liked to try instead.

Sure enough, the moment you caught sight of Spencer, your expression completely changed. It was the look he’d been hoping to see minutes ago, a bright sparkle in your eyes and a joyous smile as your hands rushed to refix your hearing aids in your ears.

“Spencer! When did you get back?” you asked, dropping the pen in your hand and any hope of working as long as your friend was still in front of your desk.

“We got back late last night, Hotch let us come in late today,” Spencer explained, hand twisting at the strap of his bag in what seemed like fear. “Can I ask, why did you have your hearing aids out?”

“Sometimes the floor can be a little too loud,” you explained. “There’s a lot of noises going on at once and sometimes I just need a break.”

“I get like that too,” Spencer admitted, internally a little relieved that someone else understood what he’d never quite been able to explain in words. “That’s usually when I go visit Penelope, her lair is usually pretty quiet.”

“Yeah, Penny’s pretty amazing,” you answered softly, a little curious why Spencer had stopped at your desk so early when he usually waits for a lunch break. He’d often eat lunch with his profiling team, but a couple of times a week he’d come over to your desk and ask if you’d like to grab a bite instead. 

“Listen, I actually wanted to ask you. Well, I wanted to say that I—”

“Spencer, it’s okay, it’s just me,” you offered gently, wondering what had him so nervous.

“Would you want to go on a date with me?” he asked finally, shocking you into silence. “I like you, and I want the chance to get to know you outside of work, if you want that is there’s no ne—”

“Spencer,” you interrupted his nervous ranting softly, trying to speak through the way a smile beamed on your face. Because this was Spencer Reid, one of your closest friends at the BAU and someone you couldn’t believe wanted to talk to you day in and day out. He made you smile unlike anyone else, he made you want to know more about him constantly. The answer was obvious when it came to him. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Wait really?” Spencer practically gasped, pulling a laugh from you.

“Did you think I’d say no?”

“Well, I was hoping you wouldn’t but I didn’t want to assume anything,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “I really should start working though, I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you at lunch,” you waved. As soon as he was gone, you danced a little in your seat then immediately stood to go find Penny. She’d want to hear about two of her close friends going on a date, that was for sure. She wouldn’t believe that it was Spencer who finally made the first move, and honestly, if you hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have quite believed it yourself. But you were incredibly happy that he had, and you couldn’t wait for your upcoming date whatever it had in store for you two.

GENERAL TAGLIST @samuel-de-champagne-problems @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @reidsbookclub @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @lil-stark @raythefaye @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @givemeth @foxy-eva @lilibet261 @exhaleli @darkeunology @nomajdetective @meggie-m00n @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @reliefplease @mente-sindescanso @jj76889 @luna-novae @folkreid @nightmarewasteland @luredwithpretzels

ONESHOT TAGLIST @natashxromanovfreads @nano-noa

[uwmspeccoll]

Decorative Sunday

This week’s decorative plates come from the Encyclopedia of Architecture, a two-volume reference work from the second half of the 19th century. Special Collections holds two copies of the second volume of Encyclopedia of Architecture, both published by two firms listed at the same New York City address and involving the publisher Henry Johnson: Johnson, Fry & Co. and Martin & Johnson. The work is an American edition of Nicholson's Dictionary of the Science and Practice of Architecture, written by Peter Nicholson and originally published in parts, as Architectural Dictionary, from 1812-1819.  Johnson and his firms were major players in the 19th century gift book market. One example of this is, and one Johnson’s pet projects was, the four-volume History of the United States, first published in 1866, illustrated by Alonzo Chappel and written by Jesse Ames Spencer.

I had hoped that some sleuthing could help me determine which of these publications came first, based on Johnson’s collaborators, but looking into the firms (and a third, Johnson, Wilson & Co.) did not present a clear chronology. While it appears as though the output of the Martin & Johnson partnership is limited to 1855 and 1856, the earliest works bearing the Johnson, Fry & Co. moniker also dates to 1855, with publishing activities continuing through 1869. Johnson, Wilson & Co. appears as early as 1857 and remains active through at least 1874. Given the degree of overlap, the order in which our two copies were released remains uncertain. What is clear is that Henry Johnson, and the 27 Beekman Street location in Manhattan, was the consistent thread. It is also clear that a number of the plates had be re-etched between publications: while all the plates in the book are recreations of Peter Nicholson’s (or his son, Michal Angelo’s) original illustrations, engraver’s marks are inconsistent between the two editions.

Explore more Decorative Sunday posts here.

-Olivia, Special Collections Graduate Intern

[yourmidnightlover]

rock

Summary - spencer wants to figure out what's wrong with you, only to be reminded what day it is and he remembers why you've been so distant.

TW: talk abt: rape, recovery, therapy, case stuff; mention of: drug addiction, rape, miscarriage, being shot, death lol

WC - 4,283

!DISCLAIMER! - i am in no way trying to romanticize recovery from a traumatic event or being upset/depressed/anxious. this is kinda my way of getting through my own issues, so please don't think that's what i'm trying to do in any way. i also don’t know how i feel abt this ending since i wrote it so long ago but oh well!

i just realized there are a few spoilers so i'll put *asterisks* around them. those parts are just explaining how the reader's always there for the team.

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

you had always been the rock in spencer's life.

mentally, at least.

when he had nobody there for him when he was going through his addiction with dilaudid, there you were. you helped him through it when everybody else on the team acted as if they never noticed.

you were the one that encouraged him to get help, and pushed him to follow through. you made sure he ate and talked to someone when he had his urges again, even if it wasn't you.

you let him come over and cry about what had happened, and how unfair his life was. you consoled him and would tell him how nothing was his fault. how he didn't deserve anything bad in his life.

*and when emily 'died', he went to your house every day. you held him as he felt himself falling apart from losing her. you didn't even worry about yourself needing to be consoled, because spencer needed you to be there for him.

*when she came back you were the one to convince him to forgive her. you talked sense into him. you reminded him how much he pleaded to have her back, and then he did. so he managed to forgive her... because of you and your logic.

*and you weren't just there for spencer. while, yes, you made a special effort to be there for him, you were there for everyone on the team.

*when derek was arrested back in chicago and the team found out about his past, you were the one he leaned on for comfort. you and penelope. you let him cry on your shoulder and yell at you about how twisted a man would have to be to do something so cruel to a child.

*when jj was kidnapped and beaten to a miscarriage, you were the first she told. you didn't say anything. you knew there was nothing you could say that would relinquish the pain of losing a child. so you let her cry. you let her hug you for what felt like hours. you let her grief her unborn baby for as long as she needed.

*when penelope was shot, nobody cared to check up on her after the fact except you. you went to her apartment for weeks just to make sure she was okay. eventually, she was able to let loose all of her frustrations on you, and you took it like a champ. she ranted about how she just wanted to be loved by someone attractive and how unfair and cruel the world is, in spite of how much good she tries to bring into it.

*when hotch lost hailey, you took care of his files. you offered to watch henry and let hotch cry to you about losing her a few times once you broke past his tough exterior. you even cried with him and jack. you made them dinner whenever you could, and helped him look for good nannies to help care for jack.

*when rossi lost carolyn, you went to her grave with him on many occasions. you brought him his favorite scotch, which was very pricey, and his favorite cigars, also very pricey, and tried your best to recreate 'the rossi special' upon his directions. it helped him feel in control of something when he needed it.

*and when emily came back from the dead, you helped walk her through her own grief. she lost herself, and buried her emotions. you helped her dig up her old self, and grow into an even better woman. you even took care of her cat when penelope couldn't manage. you helped emily grieve her own death when she wanted to deny it ever happened, and she was forever grateful for you.*

you had become like the team's built-in therapist when something bad happened, and you loved it that way. you loved being the one the team went to when they needed it. it made you feel as though you had a purpose, which was something you desperately needed.

but when you went through your own trauma almost a year ago, you refused help from anyone. you knew you should've asked someone for help, or at least someone to cry or talk to when you needed to.

the team had been working on a case for longer than expected, 8 days now, and everyone was really frustrated. you had released the profile 7 days ago, and there was still no new information. it was as if the unsub had gone dormant, and you all couldn't bear that thought.

when the team released earlier than normal from the precinct and you all went to the hotel you had been staying at, you decided to get a drink from the bar quickly. you went alone, wanting to review a few of the case files during the process and not needing a distraction.

you ordered a jack and coke, and opened the case files to begin rereading them, seeing if you had missed anything.

victims were kept for 24 hours, filmed, raped, restrained, cut in pieces, and thrown in the trash like garbage. it was absolutely disgusting, and the worst you had seen in a while. the victims were low-risk and most of them had a place of authority.

the unsub had been profiled to be someone who was bossed around by a woman, narcissistic and egotistical, wanted to feel more power and authority.

the problem is, that profile was most people living in the area. even penelope couldn't dwindle down the suspects.

and alas, you had missed nothing. nothing new appeared or caught your eye. you gulped down the rest of your drink and paid for it before packing up your things to head upstairs. you tossed the file back into your bag and began the trek to the elevator.

you were interrupted by something hitting the top of your head, rendering you unconscious.

the team had woken up, and after waiting around for half an hour, spencer realized something was wrong. he had morgan bust into your room, only to find the bed unslept in. you were missing. and the worst part... you fit the unsubs type.

spencer felt his heart drop at the realization he had taken you. and it seemed as though there was no trail as to where you had gone. penelope checked the cameras, only to find that they were hacked right after you left the bar, and then they resumed after you were taken.

at least they had a time frame.

later that day, after everyone hasting to figure something, anything out, spencer had gotten an email. he opened it and expected it to be relentless spam, only to realize it was a live feed video. a video of you. he instantly called penelope in hopes that she could trace it.

she said she could, but it would take some time because the amount of routers it had been going through.

while they were waiting, you noticed you were alone. you knew who the unsub was too, thanks to his baffling stupidity and narcissism that lead him to believe he wouldn't get caught.

"officer johnson! it's officer johnson!" you looked around the camera for a second, noticing something moving. "he-he here," you cried out. "i love you," you said to the camera to nobody in particular, but someone in mind.

you were terrified. spencer could see it in your eyes. he could see the tears you tried not to shed. you didn't want to please him, but you couldn't help but feel the absolute horror and fear coursing through your body at a relentless pace.

"hi there, missus fbi," he teased, finally walking into the frame with a ski mask over his face, clearly not aware that we knew his identity.

spencer told garcia who he was, and she began her digging. officer johnson's great grandparents had owned a farm that was since then refurbished. it was an hour away.

officer johnson had known that you two had chemistry. that's why he sent the email to spencer. he saw the longing glares, the 'innocent' touches, the smiles you would give each other, the longing looks you shared. he wanted to torment him.

so when he began undressing you and you turned your face away from the camera in hopes of sparing some of your own dignity, spencer felt his heart breaking for you. it broke even more when he heard the yelps, and screams, and please, and "no!'s" you elicited during the act.

they caught him before he cut you, but not before he finished the first part of his plan. your skirt was ripped, and your shirt was practically in two pieces. spencer had given you his jacket to cover yourself as much as you could.

you stayed silent the ride back. you didn't even let spencer hold you like you normally would after a tough case. you were ashamed. embarrassed. you felt worthless. you felt pathetic. you felt stupid. you felt helpless. you felt like you were drowning. you felt like you were without a life raft.

you knew you could talk to the team about it, but you felt so disgusted by the thought of what happened to you that you only talked about it in your therapy sessions.

hotch had given you two months off. he wanted you to grieve, and go to therapy, and try to cope with everything that had happened.

and you did try to do that. you tried your hardest to get over it and move past it, but nothing helped. not the journaling. not the talking. not the crying. nothing was working.

spencer gave you a little space at first, but he then decided to try to help you as you had helped him. he went over to your house almost every day, and sat outside your door after you wouldn't let him in.

you knew he was there... you sat on the other side.

"i-i know that you probably don't want to see anyone right now. and i'm uh, i'm sure you feel alone right now, or like you can't talk to anyone," spencer sniffled. "but pl-please just uhm, just know that i'm here when you want to talk about it. i'm here to listen to you when you need me to. i-i don't want you to be alone during this time, y/n. please, just let me in," he begged.

that was normally what he would say almost every night he went to your house. he would sit outside for hours after he would ask you to let him in without fail. until one day you let him in.

spencer felt so much relief when you opened the door, only for it to be smashed when he noticed your eyes looked red and puffy, your cheeks were stained with the tears you had been crying for so long. your cheeks were sunken in, and there were dark circles underneath your eyes that were once full of life and happiness. your eyes no longer had that gorgeous sparkle in them.

spencer vowed he would get them back.

as much as spencer wanted to wrap his arms around you in that moment, to comfort you and tell you that he was there, he wanted you to make the first move. he wanted to tell you how strong you were and how proud of you he was for getting through that. he wanted to tell you how much he loved you.

he wanted you to make the first touch, because he didn't want to further upset you. he didn't want to trigger a repressed memory, or bring back the feelings of what had happened.

but spencer's touch was nothing like the officer's. spencer's touch was soft and gentle. spencer's touch was feather-light and endearing. spencer's touch was love and home. the officer's was brittle, and rough, and repulsive.

"hug me?" you sniffled as your eyes welled with tears again as they had been for the past three weeks.

"of course," spencer slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulders as yours found his torso.

he walked inside with you still in his arms and slowly shut the door. without breaking from the hug, you both walked to the couch and sat down.

you didn't say anything. you just needed spencer to keep hugging you, so he did. he did whatever you wanted, needed, from him. eventually, you fell asleep in his embrace on the couch.

when spencer looked down at you, now sleeping against his chest, he couldn't bring his heart to remove himself from you. so like any whipped man would do, he carefully picked you up bridal styled and carried you to your room. he took his shoes off as well as his sweater vest before cuddling back up next to you.

as if it was a reflex, you cuddled up into his chest when he neared you again and got underneath the covers. spencer slept the best he did in months with you. and you slept without officer johnson in your dreams for the first time since that day.

ever since then, spencer had been making sure you were eating and drinking. he took you to your therapy sessions and stayed over most nights you had asked and he was able to.

they had a few cases during the two months, so every moment he could, spencer was with you. he coaxed you back to your normal-ish self. he watched as that glimmer in your eye began to slowly grow brighter everyday. he watched as your smile came back, and your tears didn't come so frequently.

the first time he had heard you laugh again, spencer had thought he was dreaming. he wished he had recorded that moment. he was more grateful than he's ever been in his life that he had an eidetic memory, because that sound would forever be engraved in his brain.

when you returned to work, you clung to spencer. he had become your tether to reality, and hope. he had become your rock during the recovery.

over the months, everyone slowly began to forget what had even happened. things went on as usual, and the team forgot the traumatic experience you had gone through. even spencer might've let the experience get lost in his brain.

so when it became 11 months and 3 weeks since the abduction, you began to distance yourself once again.

you politely declined going out with the team a couple days before the anniversary, something you never did. you insisted that you were just especially worn out from the case you had just been on.

spencer had to finish files given to him by derek anyway, so he didn't get to witness the encounter.

once the day of the anniversary came upon you, you found yourself feeling sick to your stomach. you couldn't help the tears that would fall from your face every so often. you knew why you felt this way, but you wanted to push past it.

you had gone into the office wearing a pantsuit and blazer, wanting to avoid the normal office skirt you happened to be wearing the day it happened. you stayed at your desk and quietly did your case files. you didn't even greet spencer as you would every day. you gave him a kind smile, but you would normally give him a hug, or at the very least an eager wave upon his arrival.

spencer just assumed it was one of those days where you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. it wasn't spencer's fault he thought this. he didn't even look at his calendar to check what day it was. he just knew they had paperwork.

but he did have this day marked in his calendar. he had it marked so he would remember to be extra kind to you, and do your files for you, and come to your place with your favorite wine and takeout. he wanted to help you through the one year anniversary, but he forgot to check his stupid calendar.

you thought he didn't care. you thought the man who you loved, and the man who helped you through everything that had happened had had enough of your complaining and grievances. so, you didn't tell him about it. you didn't bother him with the terrible thoughts clouding your mind because you thought it'd burden him.

so when you finished all of your case files early, you asked hotch if you could leave early, at 2:00, because you had things to tend to. he allowed you to do so, but this rose a flag for spencer.

he saw you exit without saying goodbye to him, something you hadn't done the entirety of knowing him. you had always told everyone to have a nice night and to be safe before leaving, but not today.

finally, he looked at his phone for the first time all day, only to feel like the worst person in the world to realize what day it was. spencer felt absolutely horrible at this revelation and ran into hotch's office as quick as he could after packing his things.

"hotch!" he exclaimed upon opening his office door.

"go. she was practically in tears," hotch informed him. "and reid," spencer stopped in his tracks to turn and look at the stern man, "please make sure she's okay." spencer gave him a soft grin and a nod before turning around and bolting out of the office.

you had gotten home and immediately burst into tears. you shut the door with your back, and slid down it. you had never understood why people had done that in movies until now. you just couldn't wait to break any longer, so you settled for your front door.

you held back no wail, or scream as you cried in front of your door, your knees pulled up to your chest as you held them tightly.

you wondered why you had to go through that. you wanted to know what kind of karma there was for someone who had always tried to do the right thing to be hurt... and for nobody to even care. nobody wanted to console you, or to make sure you were alright.

you had checked up on everyone on every anniversary of their struggles. whether it be a death, abduction, anything, you had been there for every single anniversary or reminder. and nobody was there for you.

nobody was there for you to hug, or to lean on, or to cry to, or to scream at, or to rant to. nobody was there. nobody loved you enough to care about that.

but then you had to remind yourself that they all had lives.

but the person who is your life didn't even care.

spencer didn't care.

and that's why you truly lost it.

he acted like it was just another day. he acted like it wasn't the anniversary of the day you thought you were going to die. the day you wanted to die. the day you felt your most low, and humiliated. the day you lost all hope. and he didn't remember.

if the man with an eidetic memory didn't remember, it must be extremely insignificant. so therefore, you must be extremely insignificant.

spencer raced to your house. he wanted to be there for you today, and he failed. he felt like a failure as a friend. he hated himself for not being there for you when he knew you would need him. he knew how you clung to him in your time of need. you thought he was worthy enough to hold onto when you needed someone, and spencer felt elated at that.

but now he wasn't there for you. and you needed him.

he had quickly stopped by the store and your favorite takeout place to get the things you'd want. he got your wine, chocolate, food, flowers, and a teddy bear that had a sweater vest on him - you've always loved his sweater vests.

when he got to the steps of your house, he felt his heart drop. as he walked closer he heard the wails of your crying right by the door. he could sense the heartache from the edge of your porch, and felt himself feel even worse, which he didn't think was possible.

he instantly ran to the door and knocked profusely. you sniffled one last time, feeling embarrassed that someone had heard you crying your heart out. you had figured one of your neighbors heard you and wanted to tell you to keep it down, so you wiped your tears and the stray mascara from underneath your eyes and opened the door, keeping your eyes lowered in embarrassment.

"y/n," spencer announced sadly, a tear falling down his face. you looked up in confusion from hearing his voice. you noticed his tear and reached up to wipe it away on instinct.

"why're you crying? are you okay?" you asked, forgetting all of your own problems at the sight of spencer crying. spencer let out a small chuckle at your concern.

"i'm alright, aside from the fact that i'm a terrible friend," he admitted as his smile quickly faded upon seeing your stained cheeks. "i brought your favorites," he offered, holding the bag of goodies in one hand and the takeout in another.

"y-you... why?" you asked, wanting to make sure you weren't misreading the situation for him trying to comfort you.

"why?" he asked in disbelief. "because it's the anniversary. i can't tell you how sorry i am, y/n. i swear i marked it on my calendar and planned for us to take off so i could take care of you. i-i just woke up late and never bothered to even check my phone. i kn-know it's no excuse... but i am so, so, so sorry," he rambled out, already tearing up.

you grabbed his arm gently and pulled him inside before you started crying in front of your neighbors. you took the bags from his hands and placed them on your coffee table.

"i thought you just didn't care," you shrugged as you took a seat on the couch, prompting him to sit beside you.

"y/n..." he sighed as he realized how terrible he screwed up. "i will always care about this. i will always care about you. don't ever think differently. i'm just incredibly... dumb sometimes. i can't believe i made you think that," he trailed on. "i will never not care about you, y/n. i swear it. i will always, always care about you. i will always love you," he froze as he realized what he just revealed. your eyes widened, and squinted, and roamed his face, trying to figure out if he meant the words he had just sped out. "i truly do, y/n. i i’m in love with you and i'm so sorry i made it seem otherwise."

it took you a second to absorb everything that he had said.

"you too," you solemnly admitted. "i’m in love with you too. and i could forgive you... for almost forgetting," you gave him a small smile.

"i'm glad you could forgive me. i don't know what i'd do if you didn't," he relished. "you actually love me?" you nodded with a small smile.

"i have for a while," you turned your head to the bags on the table.

"oh! right!" he said, reaching for the gifts. "i got your favorite takeout, your favorite wine, your favorite chocolates, flowers, and..." he trailed on as he revealed each item. "i saw this teddy, and i couldn't resist," he smiled.

you took the bear, taking in its appearance. it had a light blue, navy, and white diamond pattern sweater vest and brown shoes on. it looked like spencer, just teddy bear form. you smiled widely at the sentiment.

"it's you," you grinned as you took it in your arms, hugging it tightly as you saw spencer nodded with a smile mirroring that of your own. "i love it," you chuckled.

"i would understand, the fur is really soft," he relished in the thought.

"i don't think he'd be as good of a cuddler as the real thing, though," you grimaced. "but he'll do for when i don't have you here i guess," you shrugged with a smile.

"i plan on being here as long as you'll let me," he said softly.

"always," you grinned, setting down the teddy bear and trading him for the real spencer reid.

"always," he repeated, taking you in his arms and squeezing you tightly as if you'd float away at any moment. "now let's dig into this food while you talk about your feelings, if you want that is," he said after releasing you from the hug.

"i think i want to," you nodded. "and spence?" he turned from getting the food out of the bag to look at you for a second. "thank you for being my rock through all of this."

"i'll always be your rock, y/n."

@averyhotchner  @greenprisca  @muffin-cup