#might need to rehome her...

[smudgekip]

America "stop shooting off fireworks throughout the rest of July" challenge

[sick-as-a-dog]

×

[revvywevvy]

i took her out of her box just long enough to take this picture then stuffed her back in because I'm terrified of ruining her pristine model-work ;; she's so purrdy,,

[florida3exclamationpoints]

.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 7)

Masterpost

Danny was very happy to be dragged around by Damian being introduced to all of his pets, first outside to the barn to meet Bat Cow and his ducks, and the giant weird dragon creature which was so cute!! It was all over Danny too, obviously liked him. Danny had a feeling if he woke up from nightmares or couldn’t sleep he would end up finding his way back to the barn to cuddle up with these animals. At this time of year it would probably be a bit cold and night but the cold never really bothered him and Goliath was warm. 

Then back into the house to meet all of the pets, the dogs, and snakes, and Alfred the cat, and finally a second cat and her kittens. 

“This one is just a foster,” Damian said, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed in a half lotus as Danny sat on the floor next to the box the mama cat was in with her four little ones. Danny felt like he might cry, it was so cute! The mama was a little wary of him but he was easing her way into her trust and good graces.

“Mhm?” Danny sounded, he was listening but he was scared to move since the mama cat was sniffling his fingers.

“I found her while she was heavily pregnant, feral cats usually have kittens in spring, at this time of year they would have been too vulnerable outside. I’ll rehome them when they’re old enough,” Damian explained. “I was glad I got her to trust me enough that I could be present and make sure nothing went wrong while she had the babies.”

Danny held his breath as he tried to pet the cat. The quiet stretching between them until he felt ready to talk without scaring the cat. “Am I your next pregnant stray,” Danny joked.

Damian gave him a guarded look over. “... I have been told humans don’t like being compared to animals,” He said bluntly, and Danny laughed. 

“Ya most don’t. But you take very good care of your animals, when you’re making this comparison, I’m guessing what you’re trying to say is that you’ll do what you can do be here for me and make sure I have what I need for me and the babies to be healthy and safe?” Danny said, giving Damian a fond smile. 

“Yes,” Damian said stiffly. This was why he usually preferred animals, they could read his intentions and didn’t require him to say such embarrassingly vulnerable things. At least Danny was saying them for him so he just had to agree. 

Danny finished petting the cat and moved to sit next to Damian on the bed. “It’s okay Damian, I really appreciate that. I know handling these emotions can be hard, they feel too big for our bodies and they’re hard to express. I’ll let you in on a secret though, they’re more easy to express physically, and I’m not made of glass just because I’m pregnant. We should spar later.”

“Are you formally trained?” Damian asked stiffly. 

“My mother was an expert martial artist and she taught me, but I’m very strong too. I promise you won’t hurt me Damian,” He promised, bumping his shoulder against the kid’s and giving him a smile. 

“Alright, I will go easy on you.” Damian promised, just as stiffly.

“Until I prove you can’t afford to,” Danny joked and Damian scoffed and shoved Danny’s shoulder. “But really, thank you Damian. It means a lot that you and your family are willing to stick your necks out for me like this.” He sighed, if he didn’t know better he might have wished his parents had been the ones to protect and support him like this, but wishes were dangerous things.

“This family is made entirely of strays, tragedy is a prerequisite. You’ll fit right in,” Damian promised before getting up from the bed, apparently that was enough emotion. “Do you want to train now?” he asked looking back at Danny. 

“Sure, I assume this being the home of the bats and birds there’s some sort of training space?” Danny asked getting up from the bed. 

“Yes. This way,” Damian agreed and trotted out of the room with Danny on his heels, making sure to close the door behind him so none of the kittens could wander out. 

--------

Jason took off his helmet and dropped it on the couch with a sigh of relief before wandering back into the kitchen to grab a drink. So what if he was technically still too young for it? He’d done a lot worse just in the last 24 hours then half a glass of scotch. He had been off grid for a couple of days on a mission and had just gotten home. He was exhausted and half of him wanted to have his drink and go to bed, leaving his phone off for another day so he could get a proper rest. 

But he had responsibilities, both to his gang, his turf, and more recently even to his family, so he turned it back on and grimaced when more than a dozen notifications popped up in a row. Damn, something big must have happened while he was gone. Why could there never be just a quiet day around here?!

He opened the most recent message from Bruce that just said; ‘can you call me when you have the chance?’ which made him sigh. But at the same time, it wasn’t urgent, it was ‘when he had a chance’ not immediately or anger about him not answering sooner. So knowing that he scrolled back down to the oldest message so he could get a feel of what was going on.

Cas, 28 hours ago: New brother! 🤗

Oh, well that was a very good start to the context, it seemed that Bruce was in the process of adopting some other poor schmuck. Well, hopefully they’d do better by it then Jason had. And explained why Bruce wanted him to call, he always worried now how Jason would react to new siblings, as if he wasn’t well over that. He’d only been mad about Tim at first but he wasn’t even Really mad at Tim anymore! Ya he felt the urge to attack him regularly, but only the same way Jason did with everyone else in the family now.

Tim 22 hours ago: I’ve got a favour to ask, or maybe a tip for you depending on how much you want to kill someone right now. Vlad Masters brought a pregnant 16 year old to the gala last night. Apparently he’s the baby daddy. 

Oh that had Jason seeing green, his lips pulling back in a silent snarl. That man was good as dead, especially when Jason paused to google him and saw someone who must have been old enough to be the kids Father, if not even grandfather judging by the gray hair! 

Tim 19 hours ago: Don’t rush in! Turns out he’s got superpowers of the magical variety. You’re going to have to prepare for this one, and talk to Danny.

Danny must be the new kid then, the pregnant 16 year old Bruce was no doubt making quick steps to at least foster. Where were the kid’s parents in this? 

Tana 16 hours ago: Please make sure your wards are set up and you have that anti-possession charm we gave you. There is a situation still developing. 

Huh, well, good to know both that she was involved and what sort of powers they might be dealing with. 

Tim 8 hours ago: We have the parents in custody but didn’t have the resources to hold Masters. Danny and his sister are staying at the manor for now. You’ll like her, tough-as-nails red head.

Jason rolled his eyes, he dated one amazon and now everyone thinks the only people he’s into are tough ladies! He likes tough boys too god damn it! Why doesn’t no one get after Dickie about this?! (He knows they do.)

The last text from the family before Bruce’s was one from Damian, which was rare.

Damian: Hello Todd, you should know before you meet him that Danny has also previously died and come back. I believe you and he are quite similar and I do not know if that will mean you get along well or if you will repel one another. You should know that if you hurt him there will be consequences. 

Well wasn’t that just the cutest! Demon brat didn’t usually get attached to new people so soon.

He texted Bruce back: No I will Not call you. But I can be bribed to come for dinner tomorrow if Alfred makes lasagna. 

He checked the messages he had from his lieutenants about business and replied to the ones that needed it. Then the ones from his friends. He was just about to turn his phone off again when he got a text back from Bruce. 

Bruce: Done, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry Jay.

Well that was ominous. Jason sighed and turned off his phone, setting it down on the coffee table and heading to bed. He needed to fucking sleep. Whatever the hell Bruce was sorry for could wait until tomorrow.

--------

Bruce had asked Jasmine for a copy of her slideshow, and Tim for a copy of his notes and updated the files on Danny, Jasmin, Damian, and Jason. He always felt a bit odd about the files he had on his own children, but they were important! Both because his memory wasn’t infallible and he needed to remember all this, and because if he needed to tell someone about his children quickly it was good to have all that already typed out and ready.

Not he was just sitting at the Bat-Computer, staring at the cover picture of the slide show. All of them were so young, and all dead or irrevocably changed by the actions of adults around them. His goal, all their goals, had always been to make a safer world for children, and everyone but especially children. And every time he was confronted with the abject failure to protect a child it tore at his heart. If he found who had blocked them from contacting the JL he was going to have very strong words with them.

“You can’t save every child Master Bruce,” Alfred said making Bruce jump. He must have been staring at the computer for longer then he realized, to not notice the butler’s approach. “There are billions of people on the planet, you cannot catch every single one, especially the clever ones who hide it well. They’re responsible for the harm they cause, not you for not being able to stop it.”

They’d had this conversation before when Bruce got too hanged up on the people he’d failed. He knew that wallowing didn’t do any good, and depression got in the way of action, but he couldn’t always help it. As hyper-logical as he tried to be to compensate, he was still human, and seeing these things would always hurt.

“It’s not just Danny and Jazz,” Bruce said, rubbing his face. “It’s Jason too, I’m trying to figure out how… how what Jazz said about liminals and ghost changes how I feel about him. She says they can look like their immoral but it’s always amoral, following their obsession. I feel like I failed him that this is how he came back. And I blamed him so much, and put him down so much. She said their obsessions have to be supported, if they don’t indulge in their obsessions they die.

“No wonder he’s reacted so negatively every time I talked to him about this revenge quest, this thing that he’s doing. Now that I know I wonder if we can compromise, if we can’t then what? I don’t know if I can blame him at all for what he’s doing, but I know what he’s doing is wrong. I don’t know what to do Alfred.” Bruce said, rubbing his face hard.

“Well, it sounds to me you’re putting the cart before the horse Master Bruce. You haven’t even spoken to him about it yet, and you haven’t slept in more than 24 hours. Sleep, then talk to him, then you’ll know how worried to actually be,” Alfred advised.

“You’re right, as usual,” Bruce chuckled and got up, shutting down the bat computer. “What would I do without you,” He chuckled, patting Alfred’s shoulder affectionately. 

“I’m sure you’d be just fine,” Alfred said, in a tone that made it clear he was just being polite and a playful twinkle in his eyes that made Bruce laugh. 

“Thank you Alfie. Let’s all get some rest.”

Next

[pokemonshelterstories]

i'm a contest trainer, and i've got a ribombee, alolan raichu, and minccino who all get along really well.

theres a wild galarian ponyta that's been wandering my area, and i know it doesn't have a herd since my area doesn't typically have galarian ponyta, but we do have kantonian ponyta, who often travel in herds. im concerned since it seems like she's pretty injured, but I know ponyta can kick real hard so i don't want to freak her out when i approach.

i think she's hurt enough that i could catch her with a pokeball, but like i said, i don't want to freak her out.

i called the local rangers and the person who picked up the phone seemed really casual about this, saying that regional forms that aren't native to the area tend to die out(!?) and that its just nature taking its course(!?!?). i really want to help her because it hurts my heart to see any pokemon in pain, but is there any reason catching her would be bad? the plan probably wouldn't be to release her, since she's not a natural part of the niche here.

i have the resources to take care of her if i were to catch her, but i'm worried that she's going to upset my other pokemon. my raichu is on the smaller side (closer to 1'7") so the ponyta would become the largest pokemon in the household. would this cause a massive upset in my team?

(also i wouldn't be using her for contests, at least not until she's recovered from whatever injuries she has, so don't worry about that)

honestly, it's not unusual for us as rangers and rehabbers to let nature take its course on an injured pokemon that's still out in the wild. given that she's not a native variant, she's likely either an escapee or a released pokemon. an individual vagrant likely wont have any ecological impact, so we wouldn't need to remove her immediately. but capturing a pokemon for rehab (which we typically only do with native species/variants) or euthanasia (more likely what would happen here) takes time and resources, and it also removes resources from the natural ecosystem. if we grabbed every injured pokemon out there, things would fall apart pretty quickly! it sucks to think of a pokemon suffering, but injury and death are a normal part of life in the wild.

now, if you wanted to capture her to be your own pokemon, i don't see any issue with that in and of itself. she clearly doesn't have a social group she belongs to (i imagine some of her injuries are actually from a kantonian herd chasing her off; ponyta are a prey species and often wont tolerate a vagrant who might make them an easier target). but you're looking at a pretty tough time bringing her back to health if she is indeed healthy enough to save her, and you'd have to make sure you have access to pasture. you'd need to make sure you have the right environment to raise a ponyta in, which can be tricky if you don't already own farmland.

as far as social concerns....i don't see too many issues from your ribombee, since they're not terribly fearful and like helping injured pokemon with their pollen puffs. your minccino and raichu are more likely to be fearful of a larger pokemon, but could be slowly introduced. the main issue is that ponyta need interaction with conspecifics or at the very least pokemon that are of similar physiology/social structure to them. skiddo and mudbray are common companion pokemon outside of members of their own species. if you want to keep this ponyta, you need to be ready to also take in a buddy for her, which may be more than you're willing or able to do.

there's always the option to try and nurse her back to health with help from a vet and then rehome her as well. but at the end of the day, while i think the ranger you called should have given you a bit more of an explanation, they weren't wrong: letting this pokemon die naturally is not a bad thing to do.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my brother to rehome his reactive dog?

Sorry this is so long. I (F22) live with my brother (M25). My brother recently brought home a 120lb rottweiler named Brutus despite knowing I am afraid of big dogs.

I'm afraid of them because when I was 8 I was attacked by my uncle's German shepherd and had to get stitches in my leg and on my face. Don't get me wrong, the attack was my fault. My parents were in the other room comforting my uncle who just lost his son in a car crash, so they weren't paying attention to me. The dog was in her crate, and I snuck away to open it and climb in and start bothering her. She tolerated me for a long time before she finally snapped and attacked. I was old enough to know better, and my parents also told me to stay away from the dog and I didn't listen. It's entirely and solely my fault but all that being said, I'm still afraid of big dogs. I can warm up to them slowly and I have an ok relationship with a few friends' dogs (lab, 2 pit bulls, and a couple mutts).

My brother volunteers at an animal shelter and we had been talking about adopting a small dog, until one day he called me and said "please don't freak out" and told me he brought home Brutus. Brutus was surrendered to the shelter for growling at his owner's toddlers, and had been at the shelter for months with no adoption offers. He was going to be euthanized if no one took him, but my brother had bonded with him and panicked when he heard and adopted him.

I tried to like Brutus, I really did. But Brutus is a one person dog. He bonded to my brother and would resource guard him from me. My brother tried training him and it didn't really help. I tried playing with him, or giving him treats, or being the one to feed him, but whenever I get close to him his body language changes. His body goes stiff, he starts licking his lips with anxiety, and he gives me whale eyes. These are all the signs of a nervous dog who might bite, so I just stay away from him. My brother started locking Brutus in his crate before leaving me home alone with him.

Then Brutus figured out how to open his crate. And the next one my brother bought. And the next one.

I started being terrified to come out of my room when I was home alone, because I never knew if Brutus would be roaming loose. It came to a head after about 8 months when I really, really had to use the bathroom when I was home alone, so I tried to sneak out of my room. Brutus was sitting outside my brother's bedroom door, between me and the bathroom. He tensed up when I got close and growled when I tried to inch around him. I was so scared I left the house and peed outside and called my brother crying and told him I want Brutus gone.

He said no one would take Brutus and he couldn't return him to the shelter because he lied about him only growling at a toddler: he bit the toddler in the face. If I make him give Brutus away, he'll probably need to be euthanized. But I'm really, really scared of him and don't like being terrified to leave my room in my own home. AITA?

[ivymarquis]

Hi loves 💕💕 I saw requests are open so I figured I'd send one in! I absolutely love your work you're so talented and I binge read all of your fics!!

I would like to request fem reader x soap where Soaps wife adopted a dog she found on the streets and keeps her even though he hates the idea.( he has a cannon fear of dogs which I find a little funny) slowly but surely he warms up to the dog but not fully. While he's out on a mission there's a robbery and the dog protects the reader and scares off the intruder. Soap hears about this and is instantly is best friends with the dog because even though he hates dogs he loves that the pup will protect his wife (I also hc that mabey it's not a street dog but a retired k9 reader adopted to feel safe while he was gone and she just didn't tell him until he comes home and sees a dog. it's up to you what you pick💓)

Hello anon I appreciate your patience!! I did pick and choose a wee bit to make the fic make sense for me, I hope you like it!

The Exception to the Rule

Pairing| Soap x Reader Rating| T Word Count| 1.9K Content/Warnings| Housekeeping first- this fic is SFW so if you find it in the tags I won’t be bothered about minors reading it but I am an MDNI blog and I will block any minors or ageless blogs who follow me. Got it? Cool. The author is an American attempting to write a Scottish accent, likely inaccuracies about how military dogs in general or bomb dogs in specific work. Allusions to prior animal injury, allusion to potential dog choking (in the context of choking off a working dog who won’t release its quarry), allusion to home invasion, dog bites, Johnny is not happy, the author does not condone getting animals you know your partner has issues with (but the plot necessitates it so on we go!)

Soap knows his wife well enough to know when she’s taken a “ask for forgiveness rather than permission” course of action. It’s written all over her face when she accepts his FaceTime call and answers his greeting of “What did ya dae, hen?“ with a “Please don’t be mad.”

Now certain men might have to worry about their brides stepping out on them on deployment. Soap knows her well enough to not even entertain that notion, so the wheels start turning for what exactly she could have done that has her looking this guilty out the gate.

The answer comes very suddenly in the form of a bark on the other end of the screen.

John Soap MacTavish sputters, something he is not often inclined to do, “Is that a fuckin’ dog?” And not just a dog. That wasn’t a little yappy fluffball who can be picked up with two fingers if need be. It sounds like one of the damn bomb dogs always yapping over in the kennels.

“Please don’t be mad!” She pleads again.

“Well a’m not happy, that’s for sure. Where and why did ye git that thing?”

This is completely out of character for her. Soap’s disdain for dogs (and why) is well known. She bloody well knows. So what the hell?

“It’s not permanent! You said this deployment would be a long one, and there’s been break ins in the neighborhood and I got nervous and my friend told me about this rescue group that helps rehome retired military dogs.” Her explanation is all in one breath. “They approved us” (Us??) ”as a foster family. He’s already got applications in for a permanent home. It just feels,” she pauses to catch her breath, and Soap can feel himself softening ever so minisculely to the dog- as long as he’s on the other side of the world, away from it, “safer here, with him here since you’re gone. The break ins have been really scary, they haven’t caught the guy yet.”

Fucking hell how is he supposed to argue with that? Especially if there’s some prick on the loose breaking into houses.

“Cujo better nae be oan th’ bed wi’ ye,” he grouses, acquiescing while still making his displeasure known.

“His name is Kabar and I’ll have the bed freshly stripped when you’re due back I promise.”

Soap is a god damn sucker for those pleading doe eyes, giving a big exasperated sigh to signal he’s letting her off the hook. “Fine. Bit he better be gaen by th’ time I pull intae th’ driveway. Let’s see th’ damn thing then,” Christ he hopes it’s not a Belgian Malinois. He knows they’re popular for military dogs but his darling is not built to handle a maligator, retired or not.

“Okay hang on,” she replies, notably cheerier as she taps the screen.

It’s a German Shepherd, thank fuck (Johnny must be having a stroke to be grateful for the sight of a German Shepherd in his bed)

He knows as well as anyone else they can be intense, but they’re a step down from the Malinois at least.

The coloring is traditional, but Soap’s brain starts nudging him that something is wrong with the dog. It takes a moment to click before he realizes the problem.

The damn dog only has three legs. “Is he a tripod?” The question is out before he can stop himself because no he is not inquiring about the damn dog. It was just a thought that escaped.

“He is a disabled veteran!” His bride corrects cheekily, before much more solemnly adding “He was a bomb dog.”

Oh Christ. He did not need to know that. Doesn’t need to think about the damn animal waking up one day with four legs and clocking in to work with his handler before boom.

“A’m only entertaining this because of the break ins, hen, am ah clear?”

Maybe having that booming bark rattling the windows will keep any would-be intruders at bay. This is the worst part of the job- being stuck on what might as well be the other side of the world when she’s got something to deal with.

“Absolutely crystal clear!” She’s all too agreeable, pleased as hell to have her cake (the dog) and eat it too (Johnny tolerating it).

Somehow this is going to blow up in his face and he’s going to permanently end up with a fucking military dog he doesn’t want, he just knows it.

But there’s no fucking way he can tell her No. Absolutely not. He goes back today, with a potential threat lurking around the neighborhood. He’d never forgive himself.

The rest of the conversation is much more in line with what he usually anticipates with their phone calls being- He doesn’t much like talking about work off the clock although lets her know of any interesting shenanigans around the base, and listening with baited breath as she regails him of tales both extraordinary and, well, extra ordinary.

Usually their phone calls end when she passes out in bed, and they’re perfectly poised to continue that habit tonight also.

“Ye made sure all th’ doors and windows are locked, hen?” He asks as she starts snuggling into the bedding underneath her.

“Yeah Johnny, I,” she cuts herself off with a big yawn “-I double checked them.”

It’s a few minutes later that the phone slips from her hand, camera pointing at the ceiling as she drifts off.

Johnny can almost imagine he’s at home laying on his back, watching the rhythmic movements of the ceiling fan in time with his lovely girl snoring slightly in his ear (despite her verbose protests that no she doesn’t snore- okay. Whatever you say, gorgeous.)

It’s an incredibly comforting moment that lets him feel a bit closer to home that is ruined by the sound of snuffling by the speaker.

The dog’s nose appears on screen, the angle making him look like an aardvark as he sniffs the phone before laying down, presumably relishing in the fact there’s not a damn thing Soap can do about this situation.

“Ye better keep an eye oan my girl, Cujo.” Soap grumbles as he begrudgingly hangs up the phone.

The mission ends quicker than expected- substantially quicker- and as content as Soap is with getting home he also is annoyed.

The mission got cut so short, and it’s so damn late by the time Soap is driving home that he knows the fucking dog is still there. The agreed upon date has not yet passed, which means that fuck is lazing about on his side of the bed.

Not to mention the mere obstacle of convincing a former military dog he’s never met, in the middle of the night, that yes this is his fucking house and he’s the one paying the bills around here and yes that actually is his spot on the bed so kindly fuck off.

At a point during his drive home, a police car flies by him. Then another. Then another.

Must be the fucker that’s been breaking into homes. Hopefully he gets caught and that’s one less thing to worry about when Johnny leaves again.

Except the red and blue lights seem to be fucking honed in from the spot that he’s steadily driving to, and Johnny’s convinving himself that he’s seeing things. There is no way that those lights and sirens are stemming from his house, thank you very much.

Even still, he feels himself driving faster. The sooner to quiet his anxiety that’s brewing.

The anxiety doesn’t dissipate as he makes each turn to his home. If anything it gets worse.

Because all that noise and the flashing lights are stemming from his own fucking home. Johnny can barely get the thing in park before he’s flying out of the vehicle. He can hear screams and specifically her crying and in an instant Johnny’s beyond being keyed up.

One of the officers attempts to intercept Johnny- thinks he’s just some nosy fuck from who knows where- and it takes everything in him not to blow his top entirely as he cuts the man off with a stern “This is mah house ‘n she’s mah wife!”

The sound of his voice booming into the night is enough to catch her attention and bring her running to him. Johnny embraces her as she flings herself at him, crying into his shirt as he strokes her back and soothes her.

He can piece together the general what happened, although he’s completely unaware of the details.

One piece begins to fit into place as he starts to hear what all the screaming is. His initial attention completely fixated on ensuring his wife is whole and hale, now he can check that off the mental list he now has the bandwidth to listen to the bellowing.

“Git it aff me! Och Jesus, someone git it aff o' me!”

“Cannae git th’ damn thing tae release him,” Johnny hears one of the officers comment dryly.

“Can always choke him off if the owners can’t git him tae let go,” the other one supplies.

“Eh, ah guess,” the first one responds in a bored tone that makes it clear he has a this guy fucked around and now he’s finding out, and I don’t see a reason to hurry- the dog looks happy anyway, stance to the situation.

On the side of the house, face down in the grass is the man who presumably broke inside.

He is so incredibly lucky there are witnesses and a sobbing wife to curtail the dark, angry thoughts swirling around in Johnny’s brain. Otherwise all it would take would be one phone call to Laswell and this prick disappears forever.

Attached to the calf of that man is Cujo, happily laying on the ground with his tail wagging slowly like his teeth aren’t sunk inside a man’s flesh. If the dog gets too annoyed with the man’s wiggling he shakes him like a chew toy, starting up a fresh round of someone git this fucking dog aff o’ me! until he lays still.

The mention of choking the dog off the would-be intruder doesn’t slip past his darling in the slightest, looking up at him with wet, pleading eyes.

Damn it all, he’s always a sucker for that look.

“Johnny, do you know how to make him let go? I don’t want him choked!”

He decides she’s probably better off not being told how often that ends up having to happen, and that Cujo will be just fine minus a few brain cells if push comes to shove.

But he has spent enough time (against his will, mind) around the dogs that he’s learned the basic commands over the years through repeated exposure.

“No promises, hen, bit we’ll see.” The dog has never met him a day in his life- there’s no guarantee he’s going to listen to a man that’s a stranger barking orders at him, but Johnny gives the sharp German command anyway.

To his surprise, the dog lets go immediately and turns towards them, giving the skipping lope that a 3 legged dog does before placing himself in a heel at Soap’s side, eyes wide and head tilted.

Johnny doesn’t want to think about what could have happened tonight if it wasn’t for Cujo- Kabar- taking such an involved roll in apprehending the man stupid enough to break into his home.

And he’s most assuredly not magically over his aversion to dogs- especially military dogs- but he might be able to tolerate an exception if it means having some peace of mind that his wife is safe at home.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

No Distance Left to Run | Part 5 | S.R

Previous Part

Chapter Summary - Spencer puts his hatred for Cat aside in order to try and save you before it’s too late. But even if he manages to get you back from the clutches of her partner, can the two of you really have a future?

Pairing - Spencer Reid / BAU Fem! Reader

Category - friends to lovers | mutual pining | angst with happy ending | smut minors DNI

Warnings - spoilers for 14.08 Ashley, hostage situation, guns, swearing, talk of miscarriage (canon compliant), vomit, blood.

WC - 8.2k

Part 5 - Red Light, Green Light

Present Day

“We need to talk.”

“No we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.” 

Your eyes fluttered, your brain flitting between consciousness and sleep. You tried to fight to stay awake but you were just so tired.

“We need to talk.”

“No we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.” 

The dark haired woman was still playing on her phone, feet up on the counter. The bracelet was sitting on the corner of it, tauntingly sparkling at you. 

She wouldn’t tell you how she’d come to be in possession of it, of course she wouldn’t. But it made you fear what had happened to Spencer. 

He was the last person who had it, what had this woman done to get her hands on? Was he here? Was he being held in another room? Was he…dead? 

“We need to talk.”

“No we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.” 

Images kept flashing before your lids every time your eyes fluttered closed. Shimmers of gold and twinkling lights. Large, spherical golden orbs hanging from the ceiling, strings of fairy lights illuminating the otherwise drab BAU lobby.

“We need to talk.” Spencer sidled up to you, whispering so no one else would hear. 

“No we don’t.” You kept your eyes focused on the elevator shaft, gripping your champagne flute tightly in your hand. 

“Yes, we do.” He hissed and then you felt his hand on your back as he started leading you away. 

You’d just arrived back from a case in New Hampshire where little girls were being abducted after their parents were killed with the unsub trying to rehome the girls with more “worthy” parents. 

It was Spencer’s last case before he took a sabbatical to teach classes at the university and honestly you’d been quietly looking forward to him being gone. 

It had been nearly three months since the night in Varnville and the tension between you was close to reaching fever pitch. 

“Now is really not the time.” You spat as he continued to lead you down the corridor. 

“Yeah well there has never been a good time.” He removed his hand from you as soon as you were far enough away from the others. 

“Spencer, Rossi and Krystall are imminently going to come up in the elevator and either they will be engaged or Rossi will be crushed. Either way we need to be there.” You huffed, half wondering if you might crush your champagne glass with the grip you were holding it in. 

“I can’t keep doing this, Y/N. It’s been months of you giving me the cold shoulder. The team knows something is up, they’ve been asking questions. I…I miss you.” He softened, his eyes full of sorrow. “I miss my best friend.” 

You swallowed thickly, loosening the grip on your glass a little. 

“I miss mine too.” You admitted. “But every time I look at you, I am flooded with guilt, Spencer. What we did…it should never have happened.” 

“I just want us to be ok again.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. 

“So do I.” You nodded. 

“At least we can agree on something.” He offered you a slightly wistful smile. 

“It’s going to take time though, Spencer. For us to get back to how things used to be.” 

“But we can try?” He asked, hopefully. 

“Yeah,” you sighed a little. “We can try.” 

“She said yes!” Rossi’s voice suddenly carried down the hall followed in quick succession by cheers of congratulations. 

You went to pass Spencer to hurry back to the festivities but he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

The look he gave you said so much. There were so many things he wanted to say to you, you could tell he was struggling to pick just one. 

Eventually he sighed and simply whispered, “you’re too good for him” before turning away from you and walking away. 

“I think it’s time we up the ante, don’t you?” 

Your heavy eyes shot back open at the sound of her voice. She was on her feet, her phone dangling from one hand. 

“Just tell me what you want.” You groaned, your throat was so dry. 

“I already told you. For you to see what he’s really like.” She scowled at you like you were a misbehaved child. 

“I don’t know what that means.” You tugged on your bindings. 

“Do you think they’ll find you?” She cocked an eyebrow at you. 

“Wh-who?” You frowned at her change of subject. 

“Your team. SSA’s Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Tara Lewis, Luke Alvez and Matt Simmons? And that’s not to forget technical analyst Penelope Garcia and of course Doctor Spencer Reid.” 

“Bravo, you know my team's names.” You rolled your tired eyes. 

“Do you think they’ll find you?” She repeated. 

“While I’m alive?” You huffed. “Or after you kill me?” 

Her lip twitched up at the corner in a wry smile. She pocketed her phone and moved back over towards the camera on the edge of the counter. She pressed a button and the bright red light illuminated. 

“It’s time we talked about why you’re here. Cat Adams wants you to know what your lover boy is really like.”

***

“Goddamnit,” Spencer groaned when he almost lost his footing for the hundredth time.

To his right came the sound of Cat’s playful giggle. 

“I figured a genius like you would have a mathematical equation or some kind of scientific theory for this.” She snickered. 

“Gravity dictates that my body is naturally being drawn towards the floor.” Spencer huffed. 

“It has nothing to do with your gangly and uncoordinated limbs?” She laughed again. 

“I’m not gangly.” He grumbled, wobbling again on his roller skates. 

“You can’t skate backwards?” She chirruped, showing off her skills, keeping her eyes on his as she expertly manoeuvred herself backwards on the skates. 

“I can barely go forward.” He scoffed. 

“You need to keep your head up.” 

Spencer pulled a face but did as she said, lifting his head, rolling it back a little too far and he stumbled again. 

Cat laughed, quickly skating to his aid and grabbing him before he could hit the floor. 

“Not that far.” She linked her arm through his, keeping him upright and slowly started to move them both on the rink. “Is someone having fun? I’m having fun.”

Spencer’s hand was on top of hers which rested on his forearm. He didn’t think he meant to put it there. He glanced at her and she glanced at him. He couldn’t speak, so Cat continued. 

“If your stupid chaperones weren’t here, I’d ask the DJ to put on some Savage Garden for the guy-girl skate and we could totally make out.” Her tone was teasing but it made Spencer’s chest constrict. 

He stumbled a little at the mere thought as she let go of him so she could look at him. 

“You, uh, you realise what I have to do, right?” He fought to keep his balance, 

“Uhm lemme think. Ask me a bunch of pointed questions and hope that I trip up?” She rolled her eyes, skating backwards again like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

“What happened to your baby?” He asked, arms flailing a little. 

“What?” She frowned. 

“The last time I saw you, you were pregnant with someone else's baby that you said was mine.” Spencer shrugged but it threw his balance off again and he stumbled before managing to correct himself, 

“Why are you asking me about that? I don’t wanna talk about that.” Her tone suddenly turned defensive. 

“Hormonal changes during pregnancy expand the brain's capacity for empathy. I was actually just trying to see if I could use it against you.” 

“Oh really? What about, um, sex?” She suddenly skated closer to him, really close. Soon her whole body was pressed against his and her arms were wrapping around his neck. “Why don’t you use that against me?”

He instinctively held her by the waist whilst swallowing thickly. She noticed the shift in his eyes, could see exactly what he was thinking about. 

She pulled herself away and shook her head angrily. And then she was raising her arm and her palm collided with the side of Spencer’s face in a slap that echoed around the roller rink. 

Spencer fell to the ground on his knees, hissing at the sensation of the hard floor slamming into his old injury. 

He looked up to see her standing over him, her eyes dark with rage. 

“You can’t even give me five minutes? Five minutes where you aren’t thinking about her?” She spat before she was turning effortlessly and skating away, 

“Cat!” Spencer tried to scabble to his feet. “Cat, wait!” 

By the time he got himself up she was already off the rink, sitting by the side and working her feet out of her skates. 

He managed to push himself towards the edge and used the little wall to guide himself to the opening in the rink. 

“She’ll never love you.” Cat spat harshly, standing back up once she had the skates off. “Not like you love her.” 

“You’re going to make sure of that right?” Spencer rolled his lip between his teeth. “That’s what this is about. “You want Y/N to be scared of me the way she is of her husband.” 

Cat’s expression didn’t change, she was always so hard to read even for a seasoned profiler. 

“I don’t want to talk about her.” Cat folded her arms. “If you can’t go five minutes without thinking about her while you’re here with me then this date is over. Wrap it up boys.” 

Spencer clenched his jaw, glancing over his shoulder towards Luke in the booth and shook his head subtly. 

“You have my undivided attention, I promise.” Spencer spoke as he looked back at her. 

“I don’t believe you.” Cat shook her head. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to prove it to you.” He shrugged, powerlessly. 

“You’re pathetic, do you know that?” She surprised him with her words. 

“How so?” He humoured her. 

“Pining after a married woman all these years.” She clucked. 

“Yeah well I think you know enough about her to know that he’s out of the way now. You’ve had eyes on her, your partner, Juliette, she’s been stalking her. When Jared was arrested you found your perfect time to strike, the perfect leverage over me.

She was at Rossi’s wedding, I remember her. She overheard me talking about Y/N and what happened to her husband and the fact that I have feelings for her. And now you want to use that against me, you want her to hate me because me and my team had Lindsey arrested. I know you’re game, Cat, you’re predictable. And I also know you won’t have her killed because it’s too easy.”

“You think any of this has been easy?” She scoffed. “Clearly I’m not as predictable as you think.”

“What does that mean?” Spencer swallowed thickly. 

“You should have Garcia check her emails.” Her lips turned up into a wicked smirk. 

Spencer felt his blood turn to ice in his veins and he turned back to Luke once more who was already on his phone calling Quantico. 

***

“Ohemgee. Ohemgee!” Penelope screamed as your face materialised on the big screen in the round table room, tied to the chair just like you had been in the photograph. 

Emily nudged her in her arm to silence the blonde as the video started to play. 

“It’s time we talked about why you’re here. Cat Adams wants you to know what your lover boy is really like.” Weaver’s voice flooded the speakers.

She was barely in shot, all of her that could be seen was one shoulder and half of her back. Clearly the point was to have the focus on you. 

“Ah, of course she’s behind this.” You croaked, sounding exhausted. You didn’t look to be injured aside from the dried blood still on your face and matted into your hair. “So this is about Spencer, I’m some kind of pawn in her sick revenge fantasy?” 

“Oh finally, she gets it.” Weaver scoffed. 

“Why me? We’re friends, that’s all.” 

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.” Weaver’s shoulder tensed, they all saw it. “I’ve been watching you for a while Y/N, I know exactly what you and Spencer are to each other.” 

Emily, Tara, JJ and Rossi frowned at the screen, not sure what she was getting at. Garcia chewed on her lip guiltily, remembering what Spencer had told her at Rossi’s wedding. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” You sighed, but they all saw your jaw tighten. 

“He must mean something to you if you’d cheat on your husband with him. Even if your husband does beat you, it’s still infidelity.” Weaver chuckled.

“She…Spencer…no, no way.” Garcia frowned now. He had not told her that. 

“Shush, Garcia.” Emily scalded her. 

“I don’t know what you think you know, but I would never cheat on my husband.” You told her but all the agents watching knew it was a lie. 

They could read you well enough to know you were bluffing, hopefully Weaver couldn’t. 

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t lie to me if I was you.” Weaver spat and then she raised her arm into frame. 

Penelope gasped as the gun came into view, pointing right at you. Emily, Tara, Rossi and JJ all stood frozen in fear. 

“I hate to break this to you, but you aren’t the first person to hold me hostage. You aren’t the first person to hold a gun to me.” You tried to keep control of the situation, refusing to show her your fear.

“He’s no better than your jerk husband.” Juliette changed the subject. 

“Reid, was right.” JJ muttered under her breath.

“And how would you know that?” You sighed again. 

“You don’t know what he’s capable of.” 

“You mean what he did in prison? I know all about that. He did what he did to survive.” 

JJ wrapped her arms around her body, her legs shaking a little but unable to move to sit down. Emily’s eyebrows were furrowed deeply and she was gnawing on one of her fingernails. Penelope had silent tears rolling down her cheeks beneath her lime green glasses. 

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about what he did after prison.” Weaver chuckled darkly. 

“And what would that be?” You rolled your eyes. 

“His time inside changed him, Y/N. He’s not the same man you fell in love with.” 

“I never said I was in love with him.” 

“Yes, you did.” Juliette laughed again, the gun shaking a little as she did so. 

“I’m getting a little tired of this cryptic thing. Just tell me what you’re talking about.” 

Rossi exhaled loudly through his nose while Tara clenched her hands into fists. 

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” Juliette chuckled deeply, stepping back behind the camera. 

They saw your eyes follow her, and they also saw the way your body straightened in the chair.

“Reid was right.” JJ repeated. “She was at the wedding, she overheard him talking to Max.”

“Excuse me?” You tried to remain calm. 

“Truth or dare? Please pick truth because I am dying to hear you confess a secret you would never admit out loud.” 

“How do you know about that?” You finally gave over, knowing there was no point in denying it anymore. It didn’t matter how she knew, she did know. 

“I know a lot of things.” Juliette replied curtly. “I know you are in love with him, I know you cheated on your husband with him. And I also know what a monster he is.”  

At the roller rink, crowded around Luke’s phone as they watched the same video, Spencer’s back stiffened and tears flooded his eyes. Matt was holding Cat roughly by the arm a few feet away and he could see her in his peripheral vision. 

“Spencer Reid is not a monster.” You retorted with a scoff.

“Oh really?” Weaver spoke sarcastically. “So you think nice men strangle women?” 

Spencer’s nostrils flared and he closed his eyes briefly trying to stop the tears. Luke’s grip on his phone tightened. 

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that Spencer strangled someone? Ok, I’ll bite, what do you think you know?” 

Spencer held his breath, so did Luke and Matt. So did Emily, Garcia, JJ, Tara and Rossi back at Quantico. 

“You never saw the tapes did you?”

“What tapes?”

“The tapes from the interrogation room in which Spencer Reid held Cat by her throat against a wall and threatened to kill her while she was pregnant.” Juliette spat viciously. 

“That didn’t happen.” You shook your head. 

“Sweetheart, it most certainly did happen. He is worse than your husband, at least you weren’t pregnant when he had his hand around your throat. And to make matters tragically worse, Cat lost her baby as a result.” 

Your eyes widened as you started at Weaver over the camera, your bottom lip quivering slightly. 

Back at Quantico Garcia gasped yet again while JJ shook her head in disbelief.

“Is that true?” Spencer glanced up at Cat, being held roughly by the arm by Matt. “That’s not true.”

“It most certainly is true.” Cat subconsciously placed her other hand on her belly. 

The tears forced their way out of Spencer’s eyes and as he looked back at the phone he saw tears rolling down your cheeks too. 

“No, no that didn’t happen.” You shook your head. “Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because,” Weaver’s voice had a hint of amusement to it. “Cat wants you to know the truth before I send you to your grave.” 

And then the sound of several gunshots screamed through the tinny phone speakers and the screen suddenly went black. Spencer whimpered, staring at the dark screen for a few seconds before looking up at Cat. 

“What have you done?” His tears streamed hot and angry down his face. “What the fuck have you done?” 

He yanked her free of Matt’s hold and held her roughly by the biceps as he started shaking her.

“This time, I will kill you. I will fucking kill you!” He spat in her face and he shook her harder.

“You can’t win them all, Spencie.” Cat smirked menacingly at him. 

He felt a set of strong hands on his shoulders and Luke was trying to pull him back from Cat while Matt worked on freeing Cat from his hold. 

“Don’t, stop it!” Spencer fought against Luke. “Let me kill her!”

“Not gonna happen, Reid.” Luke growled and between him and Matt they managed to get the two of them apart.

Spencer was breathing heavily, his tears never ending. Luke held his arm as if afraid Spencer would go after her again. He started at Cat through bleary eyes for a moment or two before shaking his head. He snatched his arm out of Luke’s hold and pushed past the other man, away from Cat and towards the door. 

His footsteps were heavy and loud as he stormed away before he did something stupid. When he reached the door he threw it open so violently it bounced back against the wall. 

He fled into the dark night as his breathing got heavier and his vision was almost entirely compromised. His head started to spin, the world started to spin. 

He stumbled down the steps of the roller rink, using the handrail to try and keep himself upright. When he reached the bottom his stomach lurched and he suddenly vomited all over the concrete. 

He vaguely heard the door open but didn’t pay it any attention as he emptied his guts onto the sidewalk. 

Soon there was a hand on his back, rubbing up and down his spine in soothing motions. 

“It’s ok, Reid, let it out. Let it all out.” Luke cooed. 

Spencer stayed doubled over until he had nothing left and he simply dry heaved. Tears were still rapidly falling from his eyes when he stood back up.

And when he looked at Luke, he swore the other man’s own eyes were misty with tears. 

***

“Oh my…no…no! No she didn’t…she didn’t…” Penelope stumbled on her heels until she hit the table, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“She can’t be.” JJ croaked. “She couldn’t…”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked at Rossi through tear riddled eyes.

“It could be a trick.” Tara’s voice was equally as cracked as JJ’s. “It has to be a trick.” 

“We need to find where they are.” Emily spoke, voice devoid of emotion as she continued to stare at the blank screen. “We need a location.” 

“The emails are untraceable.” Penelope whined. 

“There had to be something in the video, some kind of clue.” Rossi agreed, reaching over to Garcia’s laptop. 

“I can’t watch it again.” Garcia sobbed. 

“Go then. Get a cup of tea and calm down.” Emily finally turned to face them. “I know what we just witnessed was beyond horrible. But if Juliette Weaver really did just kill our friend, then she has to pay for what she's done. So regroup, refocus. Y/N needs us.” 

Garcia sniffed and nodded at her boss, turning on her heels and wobbling to the door. JJ followed her whilst Emily, Rossi and Tara stayed put.

Emily gave them both a look, one that asked if they were up for this and they both nodded stiffly. 

“Ok,” Emily swallowed. “Play it again, Dave.” 

***

Spencer couldn’t speak, couldn’t even blink his eyes on the drive back to Quantico. Matt went with swat who were taking Cat back to prison while Luke drove him and Spencer back to the bureau. 

“Reid, you gotta think.” Luke tried to engage him as he drove, glancing at the younger man out of the corner of his eye. “This is a game to Cat, a meticulously crafted game. Nothing is left to chance, wherever Juliette took Y/N means something. You gotta think.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, keeping his eyes trained out of the window of the SUV. 

“What’s the point? She’s dead. It’s over.” His voice sounded haggard, fractured.

“We don’t know that, man. The video cut out, we don’t know she’s dead.” Luke tried to convince him but he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. “And if she isn’t dead, we’ve gotta find her before Weaver kills her for real.” 

Spencer closed his tired eyes, leaning his forehead against the cool window. He tried his hardest to focus on the small details of those images which haunted him, which may haunt him for the rest of his life. 

It was a relatively plain room. The floor was out of shot and he could only see one wall which had been behind you. It was an off white colour, nothing of interest. Nothing stood out in that damn room. 

“They could be anywhere, Luke.” Spencer opened his eyes again. 

“Try harder.” Luke was stern. “There was something, something you’re missing. This place means something to the two of you, it has to.” 

Spencer scrunched his brow in thought as he tried to recall places that might mean something to the two of you. You had fifteen years of history, how could he filter through all of that right now? 

“I really don’t know, Luke.” Spencer groaned. 

“Yes, you do. Somewhere in your brain you know exactly where she is. Your mind is clouded right now because it's trying to process too much. It's the same reason it took you longer than it normally would to recognise Weaver. You know where they are, think. Off of the top of your head, where is a place that means something to you and Y/N?” 

Spencer huffed loudly, closing his eyes again. This time however he didn’t see the images from your final moments behind his lids. 

The sun was shining and he was standing awkwardly on the sidewalk, twiddling his thumbs, feeling like the world's biggest idiot for getting this so wrong. 

“Sorry, sorry I’m late, I know.” Penelope Garcia tottered towards the two of you, pushing her bangs back off her face.

“It’s ok, it doesn’t start for another ten minutes.” You smiled as you embraced her. 

Spencer looked dumbly between you and Garcia, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows so high they almost hit his hairline.

“Happy birthday, boy wonder.” Garcia grinned at him.

“Uh…” He swallowed thickly. “Thanks?”

“Shall we?” You motioned towards the front door of the movie theatre and Garcia nodded, taking the lead.

You hung back a little, looking at the confusion that was still spreading across the young genius's face.

“You don’t mind, do you? Penelope loves Harry Potter almost as much as I do.” 

“Of course I don’t mind. Why would I mind?” He shook it off but was quickly pushing past you inside. 

As he entered the Film Factory, the hole in the wall movie theatre he took in the scent of popcorn that wafted up his nose and the sounds of you and Penelope chatting among yourself flooded his ears. 

Maybe he could have been a little more specific about his idea of tonight, because clearly you’d gotten the wrong end of the stick and invited Penelope along on what was supposed to be a date. 

He tried to ignore the way his stomach tightened and his chest constricted at his utter stupidity. 

As he passed towards the booth, the small room with the little window peeping out between large, plush red curtains, his eyes scanned over the sign perched above the booth…

“Give me your phone.” Spencer’s eyes shot open and he turned to Luke in a panic.

“Uh, ok?” Luke frowned, fishing in his pocket with one hand whilst keeping the other on the wheel.

He soon handed the device to Spencer and the younger man was quickly trying to navigate his way through the smartphone. After a few failed attempts he found the video again.

He paused it as soon as it started and zoomed in on the still. On the wall behind you, mostly out of frame, he was just able to make out a sign. In cobalt blue he could see the letters FI on one line and FAC on the line below. And underneath that he could see part of a drawing of a film reel. 

“Turn the car around.” Spencer hurriedly told Luke. 

“What?”

“Turn the car around, I know where they are.” 

Luke did as he was told and was quickly making an U-turn whilst switching his lights and siren on. 

“It’s a place called the Film Factory, it’s an old movie theatre that shut down a few years back. I took Y/N there on what was supposed to be our first date but she misunderstood and invited Garcia. We’ve been there countless times since, it’s like a…oh fuck.” Spencer trailed off with a gasp.

“What?” Luke asked as he weaved in and out of traffic. 

“The wedding wasn’t the only place I recognised Weaver from…” 

As he passed towards the booth, the small room with the little window peeping out between large, plush red curtains, his eyes scanned over the sign perched above the booth with the theatre's name and logo before looking at the young girl in the booth. 

She couldn’t have been older than sixteen, possibly even younger. She had dark hair and an incredibly bored expression on her features.

“I just need to grab one more ticket to The Deathly Hallows, please.” Spencer spoke politely,

“Seven bucks.” The young girl smacked a piece of gum in her mouth. 

Spencer handed over a ten and she handed him his change and a third ticket. He felt her eyes on him all the way to the concession stand.

“She worked there. For years actually. She was there nearly every time I’ve been there. She’s seen Y/N and I there on multiple occasions. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner.” Spencer shook his head. 

“You were in tunnel vision. Your brain was clouded because this was personal.” Luke stepped on the gas, dialling Emily’s number via his car display.

“My inability to see what was right in front of me might have just gotten her killed.” Spencer spat, balling his hands into fists. 

The phone started to ring. Before Luke could reply Emily had answered. 

“Alvez, how did it go?” 

“That’s not important. We know where Weaver is, we’re heading there now. Reid will send you an address.” 

“Wait for back up when you get there.” Emily instructed. 

Spencer scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“With all due respect, Emily,” he spoke harshly. “That’s never going to happen.” 

***

“Because, Cat wants you to know the truth before I send you to your grave.” 

She curled her finger around the trigger and didn’t hesitate in pulling it. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. 

You closed your eyes and screamed out into the small room, knowing it would do no good, no one would hear you. It took you several seconds to realise you didn’t feel any pain. 

Your heart beat frantically against your chest and you slowly opened your eyes to see the woman laughing at you as she put the gun down on the desk.

Your eyes fell down to your torso. No blood, no pain. Blanks. She’d fired blanks. 

Your breathing was erratic, your close brush with death forcing a few tears from your eyes. The woman laughed hysterically at the fear on your face. 

You tried to focus and noticed the red light was off on the camera now. She toyed with both the camera and her phone for a while, still laughing to herself. You could only assume what she must be doing, it was the same she’d done when she’d taken the photograph. 

And if like you’d suspected she was sending it to your team, they would think you were dead. 

“Why don’t you just kill me?” You whined slightly.

“Cat gave me very specific instructions. She doesn’t want you dead, she just wants you to know what kind of a man Spencer Reid really is.” The woman spoke softly, almost like she cared. “You have a type.”

“Spencer is nothing like my husband.” You growled. 

“When I’m done with you, and you scurry back to Quantico, watch the tapes. You’ll see for yourself. He had Cat around the throat just like your husband did to you.” 

“So you don’t plan to kill me?” 

“Well that will depend.” She smirked.

“On what?” You sighed. 

“Cat’s orders. If she doesn’t get what she wants out of Spencer, I may have no choice.” She shrugged.

“Cat Adams is a psychopath. Did she make you feel special? Do you think she cares about you? I hate to break it to you but we’ve seen it before. You aren’t her first partner. She used another woman just like you to have Spencer arrested. But ultimately her game with him was more important than the woman she claimed to love. Cat cheated on Lindsey, got pregnant by a prison guard just so she could pretend she’d had Spencer sexually assaulted. 

Cat doesn’t care about anyone but herself. She will toss you aside as soon as she doesn’t need you anymore. You’re disposable, sweetheart. You’re not special, you’re just the only one who fell for her act.” You didn’t mince your words. 

You saw the woman’s face fall, her nostrils flare at your summation. She moved closer to you and quickly dropped to the floor in front of you. She grabbed your jaw in one hand, digging in firmly with her fingertips. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know her!” She spat. 

“I know her better than you do. She’s using you! You will end up in prison for this, whether you kill me or not. And where will she be then?” You dared rile her. 

“You don’t know anything.” The woman spat, tightening her hold on your jaw. 

You saw her other hand moving behind her back and soon you caught the glint of a blade catching the overhead light. 

You swallowed, trying to wriggle free of her hold. She brought the tip of the blade to your chest, right beneath your collarbone. 

“I thought you weren’t going to kill me?” You spoke as she squeezed your jaw. 

“Yeah well,” she let go of your face and pressed the blade harder against your skin. “Plans change.”

***

“Reid, wait!” Luke ran after him towards the boarded up old movie theatre. 

The second the car rolled to a stop Spencer had leapt out of the passenger seat and onto the street, throwing his Kevlar vest on as he went.

“I’m going in there and you can’t stop me.” He barely had it over his head when he was drawing his gun.

“We need to wait for back up.” Luke reminded him, working his own vest on. 

Spencer stopped by the door of the old building, fastening the Velcro straps with one hand. 

“Alvez, if for whatever reason, we didn’t witness Y/N’s death, if she is still alive, she might not have much time.” Spencer stared at him in frustration. 

“If you go in there without back up you might end up dead, Reid.” 

“You’re my back up.” Spencer got his vest done up and turned to the door. “Cover me.”

Before Luke could even blink, Spencer was heading forward, gun outstretched as he reached for the door with his free hand. 

It was unlocked. He shoved it open, eyes quickly taking in the entrance way, gun following his line of sight.

Luke exhaled and drew his firearm, following in Spencer’s footsteps hurriedly. This seemed like a monumentally bad idea, but there was no way Luke was letting him go alone. 

He followed hot on Spencer’s heels as they canvassed the lobby. Spencer clearly had a destination in mind and he pushed forward towards the little ticket booth window. 

The place was a mess of cobwebs and ripped and torn movie posters everywhere. As he walked Luke heard cracking under foot. He looked down, the floor was littered with little beads. 

Popcorn kernels. 

The curtains were draped closed but there was a door to the right hand side. Spencer stopped in front of it and glanced at Luke over his shoulder. His other hand reached for the door handle. 

Spencer’s heart thumped in his chest, beating more fiercely than he’d ever felt it before. His stomach lurched like he might be sick again and he took a deep breath to try and stem the nausea. 

As he tried the handle, another SUV pulled up outside and Emily, JJ, Rossi and Tara all threw themselves from the vehicle. 

Spencer pulled down the handle and shoved open the door.

“FBI don’t move!” He yelled into the small room. 

Juliette Weaver was on her knees on the floor but quickly jumped up, spinning around the chair you occupied and holding a knife to your throat. 

The relief that flooded him seeing you looking back at him, very much alive, was almost overwhelming. His knees buckled a little but he pushed past it. There would be time for him to fall apart later. 

“Welcome to the party Doctor Reid, you’re just in time.” She smirked. 

Spencer’s stomach lurched again at the sight of the blood spilling from an open wound of your chest. Your eyes met briefly as he stepped into the room. 

“Juliette, you don’t want to do this.” He held his hands up before slowly lowering them and holstering his gun. “Put the knife down.”

“I’m not going back to prison.” She shook her head, her other hand was on your shoulder, gripping you tightly. 

“Don’t do this because of Cat. She manipulated you.” Spencer tried to reason with her. 

He was blocking Luke’s shot and Luke was sure he was doing it on purpose. 

“You don’t know her!” Juliette screamed at him, holding you tighter.

You whimpered as the blade pressed harder against your throat. You had tears rolling down your cheeks as you stared at Spencer. 

You tried to commit every little bit of him to memory, convinced this was the last time you’d ever see him. He really was so beautiful, you wished you’d gotten to tell him that. 

“I know she wanted to prove a point.” He held his hands up and took another step forward. “She wanted Y/N to know that I am no better than her husband. It’s true, Y/N, what she said about me. I did try to choke Cat to death because she kidnapped my mother. Prison changed me, maybe I am no different from your husband.”

“Don’t say that.” You sobbed. “It’s not true.”

“It is true.” He nodded. “I would have killed her if JJ hadn’t been there to stop me and I wouldn’t have felt bad. I’m not a good man, Y/N. I’m not the man you think I am.” 

Luke knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to make you hate him the way Cat wanted in the hopes if he achieved that Juliette would let you go. 

Luke had his gun trained towards Juliette but Spencer was still blocking his shot. If he just moved a little to the side he could get a clean shot. 

He heard soft footsteps behind him and he didn’t need to look to know who they belonged to. He kept his gun high, on the off chance Spencer would move.

The footsteps crept to his right, further down the corridor. They were surrounding the place, if Weaver made it out of that ticket booth she wouldn’t get much further. 

“Are you listening to him? Do you see now?” Juliette shook you. 

You made eye contact with him again and you understood. You understood what he was trying to do. 

“I see it,” you nodded. “You’re no better than him.” 

Hearing those words from your lips made his stomach lurch again. His jaw clenched and he felt tears behind his eyes. 

“You’ve made your point Juliette. Let her go, please?” Spencer pleaded with her. 

Spencer took another step forward, creating enough space behind him for Luke to manoeuvre into the small room. 

He pointed the gun at Juliette who still had the blade against your throat. 

“Juliette, there’s no way out of this. Put the knife down or I will have to shoot you. You don’t wanna die today.” Luke tried to talk her down.

Her eyes flicked over to him and then back to Spencer. She squeezed your shoulder, blade pressing dangerously against your flesh.

“I ain’t going back to prison.” She repeated and her hand holding the blade twitched. 

Less than a second later Luke fired his weapon. The bullet penetrated her right shoulder, surely hurting her but not killing her. She yelled out in pain, stumbling backwards and dropping the knife from her weakened hand as she fell against the wall and slid to the floor. 

Luke hurried to her side, holstering his weapon and kicking the blade away. She howled again when he knelt in front of her and pressed on her gunshot wound, trying to contain the bleeding.  

“We need a medic!” He called out the door where he knew his team was waiting. 

Soon the small room became crowded, Rossi was by Luke’s side, keeping an eye on Weaver while Emily and JJ holstered their weapons and allowed themselves to breathe a sigh of relief that you were ok. Tara was hurrying behind you and cutting through your bindings. 

Spencer knelt in front of you, his tears now escaping as he looked at you and you looked at him and he thanked every higher power that you were alive. 

Tara helped you stand up, you were still bleeding from the cut on your chest and your legs shook as you stood. Spencer got to his feet too and the two of you continued to stare at each other. 

“We need to get you seen to.” Tara spoke softly, placing a hand on your lower back. 

You nodded but kept your eyes on Spencer, smiling weakly at him. You allowed her to lead you from the room and Spencer watched you go. 

He stood there for some time, letting the tears fall, letting him feel the relief wash over him. He wasn’t aware of what was going on around him, the people moving around, the medic coming to take care of Weaver’s gunshot wound. 

The world seemed to move slowly around him. He could see what was happening but he didn’t feel connected to it. He felt as though he was watching it all unfold from above, no longer tethered to reality. 

He thought he’d watched you die. He thought he’d lost you forever. He hadn’t even had a chance to process your death when he’d found you alive. 

The amount of thoughts running through his brain caused him to switch off from reality while he tried to sift through them. He didn’t feel JJ’s hand on his shoulder, he didn’t notice that she’d led him outside.

He was brought back around by the temperature change as JJ led him out to the sidewalk. He blinked several times taking in the street, the SUVs, two ambulances, lots of people. 

Juliette Weaver was taken to the hospital to be patched up before she would be detained. Cat Adams was on her way back to prison where she would soon meet her end at the hand of the lethal injection. 

Spencer stood still on the sidewalk, his mind unable to shut off. You were supposed to be dead. His brain had already started trying to grieve you. But you weren’t dead. What did that mean now? 

Rossi was at his side now, holding something out in his hand. Without thinking too much, Spencer held out his own hand and Rossi coiled the item into his palm.

When he closed his hand around it, it was cool beneath his fingers. He knew without looking exactly what it was. 

“Hey kid?” Rossi spoke quietly. 

“Hmm?” Spencer croaked.

“Garcia wanted you to know something…”

***

You refused to go to the hospital, that was the last place you wanted to go. The cut on your chest and your head wound weren’t bad enough to warrant it and you insisted the paramedic patch you up in the ambulance. 

Your heart rate was still erratic and you wondered if it would ever return to normal. You had been so sure you were going to die today and that adrenaline still ran through your veins. 

Emily was the first to come and see you, holding her cell phone out for you. When you put it to your ear your children's voice encompassed you, causing you to cry once more. 

“Mommy, when will you be home?” 

“We miss you mom.” 

Knowing they were safe and hearing their voices calmed you a little. Liv had collected them from school when you couldn’t and taken them to her place in case your own home wasn’t safe. It was late and they should have been in bed already, Liv said she would keep them for the night and drop them off at school in the morning. 

You were crying still when you thanked Emily and handed her phone back. When you looked away from Emily, Spencer was hovering nearby, looking unsure if he should come over. You offered him a small smile which gave him the green light. 

Taking a breath he slowly started towards you. Emily saw him coming and patted your shoulder gently.

“I’ll give you a minute.” She whispered before turning and heading away.

Spencer ambled over, hands in his pockets and rolling his lip between his teeth. He cautiously sat down next to you on the lip of the ambulance. He looked at you, his eyes full of so many emotions. 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” He exhaled shakily. 

“It’s not your fault.” You sniffed, wiping your tears on your sleeve. 

“It kinda is though. She used you as a pawn in her sick and twisted revenge against me.” Spencer shook his head. 

“It’s fine, it’s over now.” You breathed. “You know I don’t really think you’re anything like him? I just said that because I thought it might save my life.” 

He looked away from you, out across the street. His body deflated and he closed his eyes for a few long seconds.

“I wasn’t lying, Y/N, I have changed since prison. What I did to Cat…I don’t feel bad about it. The miscarriage, I do feel bad about. If I had caused that, the death of an unborn child, I would never have forgiven myself. But Garcia checked, she actually miscarried months later. And so I can’t bring myself to feel bad. She kidnapped my mom, she had me arrested. But it makes me no better than your husband.” He shook his head, sniffing lightly.

You placed your hand on his arm and he looked back at you, unshed tears in his eyes. 

“Spencer, I don’t think you’re anything like him.” You shook your head. “You’re probably the only person in the world who has ever really loved me.”

“But things are just….so complicated.” He frowned. 

“True, I probably still have a long battle ahead of me to keep Jared out of my life. I have two kids who are going to need me more than ever. But life is always going to be complicated and messy and if we try to wait for the right time…” you trailed off and squeezed his arm softly.

His eyes flit down to your hand and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw your now empty ring finger resting on his arm. 

“If we try to wait for the right time, we might be waiting another fifteen years?” He finished for you, a small smile creeping to his lips.

“Exactly.” You nodded, your own lip twitching at the corner. 

“But that really begs the question…” 

“Ask me.”

Spencer rolled his lip between his teeth, turning his body a little so he was facing you properly. He reached out and took hold of your hand, threading his fingers in yours. 

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Truth or dare?

“Truth.” You replied quickly. 

“Did you mean it?” 

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate in responding. “You were my first love, Spence. I was always too scared to admit it and then I met Jared and I thought it might help me get over those feelings. But it didn’t. And I pushed you away and I’m sorry, I’m sorry for doing that.”

“Hey, it’s ok.” He squeezed your hand gently. “I understand. The truth is I don’t know how to be in this world if I’m not wishing for a future with you.”

His free hand went back inside of his pocket and he pulled out the item Rossi had handed him. The silver and gold of the bracelet shimmered in the light from the ambulance. He let go of your hand and you held it out for him to drape the metal around your wrist before he clasped it shut.

You smiled softly at each other, his hand finding yours again and for a moment or two you sat in silence. You took in the street, the old abandoned movie theatre you and Spencer had spent so much time in together. 

All those memories seemed so clear now. All the old horror movies he’d taken you to see which you told him you hated but you secretly loved because when you got scared it gave you an excuse to curl in close to him. 

All the foreign movie festivals you’d gone to, some of which lacked subtitles and Spencer would lean in close and whisper the translations to you. 

All the shared popcorn and the accidental brushing of fingers as you both reached in at the same time. 

The hours you must have spent inside of those walls together, in your own little bubble all came flooding back, all of those adventures you’d watched playing out on the screen side by side. 

And it made perfect sense that you should be sitting here now, on the cusp of your latest adventure together. 

You glanced back at him and as if sensing your eyes on him, he looked at you too. 

“Hey Spence?” You whispered.

“Yeah?” 

“Just to confirm, because you didn’t actually say it…” you trailed off and Spencer chuckled lightly. 

He was quick to move his free hand to your cheek, drawing you closer and then he kissed you. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you heard fireworks going off like it was the Fourth of July. He was gentle with you but his adoration was spoken silently against your lips. 

It was a new hope, a new beginning. It was two people who had been unfathomably in love with each other for well over a decade finally coming together.

When he pulled back, he didn’t go too far and he kept his hand on your cheek as though scared he might lose you again. He smiled at you softly. 

“I love you too, Y/N.” He laughed.  

“After all this time?” You whispered.

“Always, my love. Always.”

@andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @muffin-cup @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @frostandflamesfanfic @pixiehex1985 @release-your-sweets @megan-mars @hales-17 @onlyspence @werewolfbansheelove @gubsi @vivian-555 @ropickle @meowiemari @dil3mma @wolfstar-17 @kylakins88 @shqwqrma

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve had a lot of times in my life where I’ve spoken my insights into people too bluntly. Noting that someone’s partner didn’t care for them as deeply or observing a self destructive habit generally just make people lash out.

For instance when my cousin decided to get married at nineteen to a girl he’d known for three months after they met on a World of Warcraft server before they even lived together. I was the only one to tell him what a ludicrously bad idea it was. He didn’t thank me, and only when they divorced a year later did he acknowledge that my honesty had come from a place of caring.

Over the years I’ve tempered my impulse to meddle to the point where someone is asking for my honest opinion or advice. If I clock that my very definitely autistic friend is starting to question whether they might be autistic I’ll give a roundabout nudge but not before then. When someone’s boyfriend is an absolute skeev I keep it to myself unless prompted.

But my friend with the nightmare dog is just drowning. The dog is a husky mix, but with only husky traits. Independence, stubbornness, nippiness, aloof. She said she wanted a cuddly dog who loved people and would go out and about with her.

The dog she got can’t be trusted an inch to recall, doesn’t care for most people, and just walks all over her. She didn’t do any reading and this is her first dog, ever. She kept saying she’d talk to a trainer but instead just cries about how defeated she feels about the dogs behavior. I’d go over for training sessions only to have her not take any of my advice.

I let it go two months but she just told us she got bitten breaking up a fight between her dog and another. I finally just texted that I didn’t think this was the dog for her and that rehoming would be in both of their best interests.

She hasn’t responded and I’m miserably certain I’ve overstepped. I wanted to tell her in person but she always changes the subject, even when she’s crying over how hard this dog is making her life. I feel like my friend deserves to be happy and there’s just no version of this animal being what she needs or can handle but I still feel like a monster for saying it.

[hellenhighwater]

This may be a mildly weird question, and I apologize if it is, but do you have any advice for how to figure out if a person (specifically oneself) would be a good cat owner? I love cats, and a lot of my future dreams involve owning one (or several). However, I often worry that I wouldn't be a good cat owner. When I was a kid, I was often nervous/skittish around animals because I couldn't predict them and was afraid of getting scratched or bitten. I'm a lot better now than I used to be (will actively seek to interact with my friends' pets, have been trusted to look after peoples' dogs for short periods of time), a lot of my instinctive reactions to being startled by animals are still . . . not entirely helpful. (Not directly harmful! I would never! But stuff like freezing up or pulling away in such a way that it can give the wrong signal to animals.) Plus, I'm not always great at picking up cues/body language from people, and based on what I've read, that's about 75% of how animals communicate, so even during good interactions, I'm always a little worried that I'm doing something wrong because I'm missing some cue.

Again, I love cats and would very much like to have one or more someday. But I only want to do that if I can be sure that I'm going to be able to give any cats of mine a good life, and I don't want to get a cat only to have to rehome it a few months later. Any tips on how to handle all this?

Thanks so much for your time and, more generally, for the delight of seeing Malice and Vice (and the kittens!) periodically on my dash. Your posts about them always brighten my day. <3

It sounds like you'd be a good owner to the right cat, and that you may want to find someone who can help you pick that cat out when you're in a position to adopt one. If you're lucky, a local shelter or rescue may be able to help you with this. If you can, call ahead and explain that you're looking for your first cat, and would like some help finding that one; ask if there's a good time to come meet some cats where someone who knows the current cats well could maybe point you to one that might be right. Also, if a personality profile for a cat includes "good with kids," that probably means they're going to be tolerant of any mistakes you might make re: body language.

You should definitely look for an adult, at least six years old, maybe even a cat in the senior category (which, depending on how a shelter or rescue categorizes cats, can be any cat over the age of 10. Cats can live a long time, so 10 is really not that old.) Try to not get attached to specific looks and just go by personality.

Cats have a lot of personality variety, and there's tons of cats out there that are truly very friendly and cuddly, and really just need someone to meet their basic needs and shower them in affection. An adult cat that has lived with people before, or who was just a friendly stray is probably going to take it fine if you freeze up or pull back suddenly, and if they're old enough to have become chill, will just walk away if you're bugging them. Crucially, you do not want to try to take a difficult or traumatized cat as your very first one. Those cats need help, true, but you need to learn first.

You can learn a lot about body language for cats online, but mostly you learn it by exposure. Plus, cat body language can be very individual-specific, so it's fine to just learn over time what your cat is saying.

There's tons of cats that are just sweet-natured. A'Tuin, my momma foster, would make a great first cat for someone! She's not shy about coming up and asking for attention, and will even use her paws to pull my hand to her face for ear scratches. She's good with not using her claws, has never tried to nip or bite, and mostly just wants to be looked after and cuddled. And there's tons of cats like her out there.

[iheartvmt]

I just realized I never introduced my newest beastie on this blog, other than a passing mention in the hawk shenanigans!

She is 1 year old, 13#s, and supposedly a "corgipoo." I've even got papers from her previous owner to prove it!

 Anyway, this is what she looks like now:

...I don't see any corgi, do y'all? 🤣

From her behavior, Doc and I guess she's actually a poodle/terrier (most likely schnauzer) mix. My mom thinks she's just a badly bred poodle. Maybe she's secretly a muppet 🤷 For Christmas I might ask for one of those doggie DNA tests. 

Anyway, I was not planning on getting a poodle or any mix thereof (I wanted another hound or beagle), but my former coworker was rehoming her for a family member who wasn't giving her the care she needed, and she knows I'm a sucker lol

Rin's a little monster but a lot of fun and I love her already! So does my uncle's dog, Oreo :3 

[cats-closet]

So once again random poly erasermic headcanon for cat quirk darling. This is inspired by my own cat when I trimmed her nail it made me wonder how that would translate to a person with a cat quirk. I had written out a whole explanation of how I thought the claws would translate to a human hand but let's be honest no one wants to hear that so I'll jump to what we're all here for.

I imagine at least Aizawa had considered that they might have to forcibly trim your nails after 'rehoming' you but the need didn't arise until you actually scratched one of them.

Maybe it was intentional maybe not but either way I imagine within a few hours after the incident you're approached by both of them and they announce what's going to happen. Your nails are getting trimmed one way or another and it'll either be an easy or forceful process.

I guess depending on your choice it'll go one of two ways. You could comply and one of them would grab your hands and (kinda humiliatingly) gently squeeze your fingies to expand the claws and carefully clip them. It would proooobably be Aizawa trimming your nails (claws?) while Hizashi coos at you for being so good :((( if you let him he'd probably pat your head too and once Aizawa finishes he also plants a couple solid pats on top of your head:(((( your ears probably react so cutely too just by the nature of being cat ears.

Oh my god and if Aizawa somehow manages to fuck up and cut too far and ends up catching the quick they'd feel sooooooo bad:'(((((( obviously, that would hurt very bad and start rapidly bleeding, instinctively you retract your hand and hold it to yourself wincing:((((((( Hizashi jumps to comfort you wrapping his arm around your back while trying to gently coax you to give them your hand so they can perform first aid, even if your hesitant they wouldn't be mad cause they know this probably hurts a lot (it does) and it's harder to be rational in situations like this:'''(((((

Depending on your pain tolerance there's a very good chance you're crying and whimpering and they feel SOOOO BAD (as they should tbh). I think Hizashi applies a little styptic powder (it's for stuff like this to stop bleeding) and wraps a little bandage around the finger (giving a soft kiss to the finger if you let him). During this Aizawa has a hand on either your shoulder or head and gently apologizes for his mistake, you're probably not paying the most attention to the things being said to you but you do hear it lmao.

They definitely make it up to you somehow probably in a manner specific to you. Something like your favorite meal you haven't had in a while or some new stuff (within reason) you've expressed interest in. They both probably say sorry a couple more times since you were so obedient and they still hurt you.

If you're,,, not obedient however,,,,

Depending on your history Aizawa probs expected you to put up a fight. Having someone else force trim your nails is embarrassing enough but these clowns???? No way you were not gonna let them. Hizashi is disappointed but it's not a very long struggle to get you under control. It's two grown pro hero men what did you expect.

You might have gotten some good scratches or even bites in but eventually, Aizawa is able to get behind and grab both your wrists, holding them out in front of you for Hizashi to handle trimming. This is far from an ideal situation since even though you're tired, you can still do many things to struggle. Simply curling your hands into fists, trying to turn and bite Aizawa, and just struggling as an action will make it much harder for Hizashi to be careful when trimming your nails to not actually cut any flesh.

In this scenario where you're fighting tooth and nail, you're almost guaranteed to get hurt. When he inevitably cuts your finger or the quick of your nail and you cry out trying to pull back on yourself, they feel much less bad. As expected they definitely blame you for this, if you hadn't struggled you wouldn't have gotten hurt but they still feel sympathetic.

They probably have to force the first-aid again but aren't as understanding of any resistance, by this point they're also getting tired and annoyed with your behavior. Once Hizashi is able to wrestle the injured hand from you and apply treatment they probably punish you still for being so insubordinate.

It's probably nothing serious, just locking you in your room without entertainment though you probably still get dinner brought to you.

Overall,,,,,,,, they're kinda annoying tbh

For such a silly concept this post was wayyy longer than expected, I'm kinda just spitting out my thots all the time so it's never given any quality control

[arvadthecursed]

Hi everyone. This isn't an easy post to make, but it needs to be done.

I have decided to rehome Stella.

There's a lot I haven't told you guys about the situation with her. I was worried you'd think I was disgusting, a slob, a pig. But I want to give you all the context for this decision.

About two months ago, my parents decided to try and see if using a crate upstairs would help Stella acclimate better, by giving her a safe spot where the boys couldn't get to her. This was a disaster.

Stella quit using her litter box entirely. At first I was worried she had another blockage, so I took her to the vet. She was slightly constipated so she got some medicine. I thought that might help.

I had bought an air mattress a few weeks previously, as Stella had urinated on my mattress and I was concerned I couldn't use it anymore. Stella used my air mattress as a place to use the bathroom. It got worse from there.

I will spare you all the details. But over the course of the last month and a half, my room was basically destroyed. Besides the air mattress, my actual mattress is completely ruined. I'd thought I might be able to save it, but she urinated on it several more times as well as had BMs on it. I had posted pictures of her in my yarn cubby, thinking if was cute at the time. That yarn is ruined, and the cubby is, too. And my carpet will have to be replaced from how she used it. There is basically no way to salvage my room as it is.

She has had behavioral issues like this before, where I did something that upset her and in response she would use the bathroom on, usually, my bed -- but never this drastic. Each time I would clean up, try to fix what I'd done, and accept that this was part of my life now.

I paid my sister to clean my room for me, which she did and I'm grateful, I couldn't even think about my room without crying bc of how awful it was -- but my room is still a disaster zone. I can't sleep in there because it smells like, well, a litter box, and that will make me sick. It's a vicious cycle. I can't be down there too long to try and fix her behaviors, so her behaviors continue.

I have accepted that I can't give Stella what she needs here. I can't care for her like she needs.

I have spent more than $1500 on her vet bills, I've tried changing her litter box and litter multiple times. I bought a stainless steel water fountain for her because I was worried she wasn't drinking enough water. I have read countless articles, watched videos, consulted my vet over and over. I was worried it was a health problem bc she has struggled with those. But... It's a behavior. And it's a behavior I cannot cope with.

I've spent the last month and a half trying to cope. I've been spending time with her as much as possible and as much as I can tolerate. I've tried to redirect her behaviors. And I have to accept that I can't do this anymore.

Stella deserves far better, someone who can be with her all the time (or close to it) in a household where she's the only animal and can be the focus of attention.

It breaks my heart. It really does. I've cried every day for the last several days. I've second-guessed myself, I've beat myself up. In some ways, I feel like I'm failing her, like I'm giving up on her. But I have to do what's right for her, and I can't be what she needs.

I'm going to be contacting a few rescues on Monday to see if they can take her or recommend a foster. I don't want her going back into a shelter. At her age, with her health problems, that would be a death sentence, and I can't do it to her. She spent more than 7 years of her life in a shelter. I don't want her to have to go back.

I'm sorry. I know this is heavy, and it's not what anyone wants to hear. I feel horrible about this. Like I said, there's part of me that feels like I have completely failed her. But I know I can't give her what she needs. It breaks my heart into pieces and I'm starting to cry writing this post.

I didn't want to just stop posting about her and you guys not know what happened. I am going to make sure she goes into good hands, to someone who can care for her like she needs to be cared for. And in my own selfish way, I needed to vent, bc I have cried so much over the last month and a half as months of my items being used as a litter box has worn me down -- especially not being able to sleep in my own bed for several months now, and my room for the last month and a half.

I will let you all know when I find her somewhere/someone to care for her.

I will likely not be replying to anything on this post or ask about it, at least not for the time being. My heart hurts. It feels heavy in my chest whenever I think about her. I need time to heal and process this. I do not make this decision lightly at all.

Thank you for reading.

Millie

[pokemonshelterstories]

Any advice on living with a Varoom?

My girlfriend has one, and I absolutely love the little guy. Very well behaved, very affectionate, fun to watch zoom around when we go on walks.

But I can get overstimulated really easily, and sounds can be a big trigger for me. And the Varoom, while well meaning, really likes to chat as he motors around. Normally adorable, but not when I’m stressed out and need quiet.

I don’t want to force him into his pokeball any time I need quiet - he’s very cuddly, and that can help ground me, but I don’t know how to train him to be a little quieter if needed.

Got any tips?

unfortunately, this really sounds like a conflict of needs. it's not yours or the varoom's fault, but it sounds like you really need a quiet space at times- and varoom are, by default, loud pokemon. it's not something they can change, since the sounds they make aren't really vocalizations. they're the result of the process by which varoom convert the minerals they absorb from rocks into usable energy.

of course, that doesn't mean that you need to ask your girlfriend to rehome her varoom. you just need to establish a quiet space for yourself where you can go if you get overstimulated. that does mean that he's not always going to be able to cuddle with you when you're not feeling well, and you might have to put him in his ball sometimes, but provided that you're not balling him all the time and you're still giving him lots of love when you're okay to be around him, he'll be alright.

[mercurygray]

Okay, well, the world's not any better than it was Wednesday, but I just got my flu and COVID shots, had my annual exam, and got 40 new-to-me magazines from my local buy-nothing group! ( I've decided I'm going to try collage, as an art thing. It's scissors and glue. I can't mess anything up too much.) When I picked up one set of magazines, the woman at the door strongly encouraged me to read the articles in Vanity Fair. I assured her I would.

If you're looking for a way to 'get involved' or 'build community' a buy nothing or Freecycle group is a fun way to start. Mine is on Facebook, and I've rehomed furniture and some household odds and ends to people who needed them. It's also a great way for you to get stuff and meet your neighbors.

Anyway, the sun is shining and I might even look for prompts later. I hope everyone is finding a way to recharge and look forward.