#this was the first episode which almost made me cry

[hydrangeawise]

Ahaha, Madlax EP 22, what the FUCK was THAT?! I want to talk!!

For real, what THE FUCK! I'll try to get my thoughts in order, but know that there is a whatthefuck loop playing in the back of my head.

As it turns out, Madlax's page really was the important bit that was missing, which is neat. What is not neat at all is that Monday Friday can apparently control or influence Margaret (what is neat is that the change of eye colour signifies that something is off immediately, great visual help!). He's really hellbent on "violence is the essence of humanity" and it's making my teeth itch, skin crawl, the whole thing. Anyway, interesting to me is how he can see and interact with Laetitia (even though he obviously considers her to be of no importance) and with the question of if he intends to lead people astray again, I feel like this points to something like "Whatever happens when the door gets opened depends on the person who opens it". I guess I'll find out.

Something else that stood out to me was Madlax herself. She had no wound from a very obvious injury, there was nothing. She also had no trouble navigating the fog in the forest which gets noted by Limelda. And then she said this is because she perceived herself. (There is also this fascinating conversation which reveals that Limelda sees herself or rather a likeminded individual when she looks at Madlax, someone who has nothing. It makes Limelda's obsession much more hmm relatable, maybe? I mean, personally, I would also completely be fine with Limelda obsessing over Madlax because she's skilled and because she represents something real in a false world to her or something. This is just a neat little addition.) Which leads me to the theory that maybe Madlax is very similar to Blond Guy; she also said that she and Margaret are the same and it gives me the feeling that maybe Madlax is a feeling or thought Margaret had in that war zone 12 years ago that she gave a body through the power of the place, much like Blond Guy did. That she is - sort of - the feeling of Margaret searching for her father, wanting him dead (for whatever reason), and killing to stay alive. Hmm, interesting to think about at the very least.

AND NOW TO THE PART THAT FUCKED ME UP WHICH IS: VANESSA DIED???? And Margaret now thinks that Madlax killed her (which is the obvious conclusion to draw with the set-up they were in, but oof!). This is so messy!!! I'm not sure if Limelda also died on that cliff because on one hand, it would be an interesting end to her if she got killed by Vanessa who was trying to protect Madlax, instead of by Madlax like she wished. I'm not sure how I feel about Vanessa's end though. On one hand, that she died protecting a friend instead of on the hunt for revenge is something for sure (maybe growth, maybe a symbol of selflessness in the face of Monday Friday's assumption that people are selfishly violent); on the other hand, it feels like she died too soon. Not because she did not get her revenge (the scene in the fields kind of shows that reuniting with her family is a happy thing), but because she only started to outgrow(?) her thoughts of revenge. She only started on a new part of her journey, and that is sad. (She also would have deserved to kick Weekday Guy in the nuts for sure.) I am also not entirely sure what to make of Margaret's reaction, I'm pretty sure she did not kill Madlax, and I'm sure she did not mutter the words of essence and truth just for fun, but she also seems or still is under the influence of Monday Friday and hmmmmm. HMMMMMM. Only way to find out is to keep watching, I guess!!

[inkbybambi]

bodyguard!simon riley who takes a bullet for you —

words: 2.9k rating: e warnings: nightmares, guns/shooting, gunshot wound, hospitals, smut, creampie, cunnilingus, mentions of threats against reader, threat against reader, lowercase writing — please let me know if i missed any! notes: 18+ content, minors dni. warnings have been provided.

He's been assigned to you for two-ish years now. You weren't thrilled at first, and neither was he — but he didn't make it as obvious as you did.

"I don't need a babysitter," you had damn-near hissed when he was introduced.

"I wasn't hired to be one," he counters coolly, which only serves to irritate you further.

Actively ignoring his presence — as much as you could when your company moved him into your apartment — even though you begrudgingly made room in the counters and fridge for his things, even going as far as investing into a better kettle so he could make his tea and clearing out an entire cabinet for all his tea, sugar, and steeper.

He trails you quietly as he was hired to; keeping close enough to always have you in his sights but far enough away that people wouldn't be able to clock his association to you — or so he thought.

Six months into his contract with you — an unknown amount of time left, as Price never answered and soon he stopped asking — he wakes in the middle of the night from a scream he never thought would come from you.

He rushes to your bedroom, gun in hand with his finger resting on the side — not the trigger. The front door is locked as he had left it, windows unbroken. He almost thinks he might've associated it with one of his own nightmares, until he sees you.

Curled in on yourself, face tucked into your knees, fingers threaded at the nape of your neck as you struggle to breathe properly, hiccups and sobs breaking between your stuttered breaths.

He knocks gently on your door, not wanting to startle you. You jump a little, regardless, but lift your head to look at him.

"'m sorry," you mumble, voice rough, "I didn't mean to wake you."

And you hadn't. You thought you were done with these awful nightmares, the ones gnawing at the edges of your mind during the day.

"'S'alright," he replies, tucking the gun into the waistband of his sleep shorts, walking carefully towards your bed. "You okay?"

The look he receives damn near breaks his heart.

He learns, that night, that an attempt had been made on your life before. More than once.

They never got close enough to do any harm, you say, but then swallow thickly and clutch your bicep where Simon sees a scar that he never took notice of previously. They didn't get close enough to do anything worse, you amend, chancing a look at him.

"I had security then, too," you explain, wiping your tears with your hand, playing with the blanket. "It didn't change anything."

Something shifts after that.

He starts cooking for you — with you, when there's time — and you bring him a cup of tea each morning. The bookshelf in the living room, previously only half-filled, collects Simon's books. You give him the login to all your streaming services, and ignore the pointed look he gives you when he sees some trashy reality tv show in your continue to watch queue.

He doesn't complain much when he stands behind you during an episode, arms crossed, asking a question here and there. You sigh, exasperated at having to explain everything, telling him to sit down as you start the series from the beginning.

Nine months into his contract, your nightmares become more frequent, and worse. You don't understand why. You were getting better, you cry in Simon's arms after a particularly rough night.

"Sometimes these things happen," he tells you softly, gently petting your hair, tucking you under his chin.

"Make them stop, please," you beg, even though you know he can't. he wishes he could.

He starts sleeping in your bed.

He's so warm, your cheek pressed into his chest, feeling more secure than you have in months when the weight of his thick, tattooed arm slings around your waist. He presses a kiss to your forehead at night, and you burrow into his side.

He starts taking the balaclava off at night.

A morning where you blessedly don't have to be up early, grey clouds hang in the sky, the promise of a storm later.

"G'mornin'," he says, voice rough with sleep, feeling him flex and stretch beneath you, groaning as his body relaxes. A flash of heat snaps through you.

"Morning," you reply, only half-awake, tilting your head up to drag your lips across his jaw, prickling with stubble.

He cradles the back of your head, fingers thick and comforting, tilting you back until his mouth slants over yours. He holds you so carefully, like glass, as his tongue slips into your mouth, hot and heavy.

The sheets rustle as he moves to lay over you, free arm resting by your head as your legs hook on his hips, trying to draw him closer to you.

He nips at your bottom lip as he rolls his hips, the heat of his cock through his boxers frazzling your brain. You mewl, his tongue back in your mouth, moving his hand to grip your waist and drag you up against him, moaning low in his throat when he feels the wetness seeping through your panties.

"Fuck," you breathe out as his mouth moves over your cheek, down your jaw, kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"Say please," he rumbles.

"Simon, please," you whine, fingers curling at the base of his skull and scratching, and he snarls against your skin, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck as he tears your panties off, pushing his boxers down enough to free his cock.

You're so wet for him, slick coating your thighs as he drags his cock through your folds.

He usually takes his time — using his fingers and tongue to open them up first, wanting to feel the wet heat of their cunt and the spurt of their release to know they're relaxed and ready for him. He eats pussy like he'll die if he doesn't, will happily spend hours between your legs if you let him.

But with you? He feels feral with need.

"It's big, sweet thing," he rasps into your skin, lips hovering over that sensitive spot on your neck that he sunk his teeth into earlier, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. He's not trying to brag, it's just a fact.

You claw at him, the sting of open scratches burning his skin so pleasantly.

"It's okay, don't care," you pant, gripping him hard enough to leave deep crescent marks in his skin, angling your hips up to draw him into your cunt yourself.

He grips your hips with both hands, slowly pushing his thick length into you, nails digging even deeper the more he pushes in.

"Feels so fucking good," he says, tongue laving over your throat to collect the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin. "Could fuck you forever," he groans, your breath hitching.

You make a strangled noise low in your throat. It's been awhile since you've fucked anyone, and you've never fucked anyone as big as him before.

The stretch feels so good, though. Your cunt clenches around him as he sinks in deeper, mind glazing over as you focus only on him.

"Fuck," he whines when he finally seats himself fully into you, nuzzling into your neck, overwhelmed by the heat and slick, "good fucking girl, taking me so well."

He swallows thickly, waiting a couple heartbeats to enjoy this — it's been awhile for him, too.

"Think you can take it, love?" and his fucking voice. You would agree to do anything as long as you could hear that rough accent along your throat, teeth skimming your skin.

"Yes," you breathe out harshly, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, needing him close, close, closer.

For a man of few words, Simon has a filthy mouth as he fucks into you, accompanied by groans and growls into your collar.

"Never had a cunt this perfect." "Fuckin' made for me." "Can't wait to get my tongue in you, feel you cum on my face." "No one else can have you." "You're mine."

And you, normally far more verbal than him, are reduced to nothing more than mewls and pleas and moans for more.

You mouth and nip at his jaw when you can, wanting to mark him, wanting to stake your claim. You'll be his forever if he lets you, but you'll be damned if anyone else gets to have him either.

"Simon — " is the only warning you give before you cum on his cock, head thrown back as you moan through the waves of pleasure, release coating his length and thighs.

"That's it, baby, good girl, give it to me," he says, blunt nails digging into your waist as he grinds himself deep into you. You feel so warm and pliant, the pleasure numbing your mind as he rocks himself into you.

"Wanna feel you give me one more, angel," he bites at your throat on the other side, his need to sink his teeth into every inch of your skin overwhelming. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, fucking into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and your toes curling.

You grip at him again, clawing as he fucks into you, the sound of your wet cunt taking each thrust creating a symphony with his groans and your cries. He feels so fucking good, splitting you open and making you whole, desperate for him to cum inside.

The way your nails dig into his shoulder is the sign that you're getting close, and he thrusts just a little harder, a little meaner, your cute whines growing more desperate as you walk the precipice of another orgasm.

No one's ever made you cum more than once — sometimes, not even once — and you've never been able to do it yourself either.

Simon? Fucks a second orgasm out of you like it's his life mission, ankles tightening around his neck as pleasure lines your veins, shaking as he continues to hit that spot inside you as you cum, prolonging it as much as he can.

"Baby — " he chokes out, sharp teeth on your shoulder, thrusts getting sloppy. The slick of your two releases sounds so loud in your bedroom, feeling the desperation as he thrusts, deeper, harder.

"Cum inside," you mumble against his cheek, nails scratching at the base of his skull as he thrusts once, twice, three times — the warmth of his release flooding your cunt.

He fists the sheets in one hand, nails dragging down your thigh as he pumps deep into you, your slick and his release seeping out of your hole, dripping down his balls and your asshole.

You stay like that, lips brushing, breathing in each other's air as you slowly come down from the high.

Simon gently — so gently — lowers your legs, carefully watching your face for any signs of discomfort, settling them on his hips, hands moving up and down your thighs. "Y'alright?" he asks. You swallow thickly and nod, both hands now at the base of his skull, affectionately scratching at the nape of his neck.

He slowly pulls out, and you miss the stretch and the warmth immediately. You push up on your elbows, watching as the mixture of your pleasure leaks out of you, biting you lip.

"Fuckin' beautiful," he says almost reverently, mesmerized.

He spends the next hour cleaning you up, and you think your nails create permanent marks on his shoulders.

Time bleeds together.

His contract renews on the twelfth month.

He heard rumors that Price might switch him out for another guard.

You're at the meeting — it's your bodyguard, after all, they figure you should get some input. Price has two separate folders prepared. A sharp look from Simon is all Price needed to know about how he feels. The tongue lashing you give your higher ups has Price raising his eyebrows, and Simon sits forward a little more should he need to haul you out over his shoulder.

He wouldn't mind that too much, he thinks, but he'd rather not.

Ten minutes later and you're angrily signing his renewal papers, a blotch of ink at the start of your name as you didn't even read the contract before signing, lungs burning from your rant about personal safety and what the fuck are you thinking and I didn't just buy an entirely new tea set for nothing.

You grip his wrist as soon as he signs himself, dragging him to the nearest bathroom.

His hand covers your mouth as he fucks you deep and slow.

"Don't worry, darling, 'm not going anywhere."

Eighteen months into his contract, and he's never felt so little control before in his life.

He's meticulous, prepared, tactile.

There's a gun in his holster for distance threats and a knife in his sheath for those who dare get too close.

He makes sure to memorize the exists before you even get to the venue, now making no effort to conceal himself.

He's like a shadow, or a guard dog.

You've never felt more secure, more protected.

Until —

He doesn't know how it slipped past him.

He let his eyes linger a little too long on the curve of your neck, where a new diamond pendant lay with his initial engraved on the back. He admires the dip of the dress you wear, open-back that shows the enticing expanse of your back, the dress covering you above the curve of your ass. You look back at him briefly while whomever you're with speaks, eyes sparkling in the bright light of the room, a smile reserved just for him.

He hears the cock of a hammer and his eyes snap to a gentleman who brandishes a gun like he's never held one before in his life. His eyes, though. His eyes are like fire, black with rage, staring at you with such hatred.

You look one second too late.

Simon is on you right after the click of the trigger, pushing you to the floor and caging you with his body.

"Stay down and don't fucking move," he growls as he reaches for his own weapon, up in a flash.

You can't hear anything except white noise and screams that sound muffled, heart pounding and making it hard to breathe. Two shots ring out, in tandem, and there's the telltale sign of a body hitting the floor.

Simon is by your side, eyes scanning, frantic, looking for any signs of harm.

"You okay?" he asks, carefully outstretching his hands to let you stop him from touching you should you want. you don't.

"Fine," your voice cracks, and you can't stop shaking.

"You're okay, you're okay," he says, cradling your cheeks, thumbs wiping under your eyes. "I'm so fucking sorry," he adds, guilt heavy in his chest.

You grab his wrists lightly, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look him over. You gasp, unable to catch a real breath, unable to look away from his stomach.

"Simon — " you say, horror laced in your voice.

He looks down, seeing the red seep through his shirt.

Fuck.

At least it wasn't you, he tells himself.

Nineteen months into his contract, and he isn't dead.

While he's been shot before — a fact he tells you, assuming it would comfort you, but only got him a venomous glare in return — it's been awhile.

The hospital, the stitches, the gauze and needles. He hated it then and he hates it now.

Price comes to you in the hospital — they're keeping Simon for a little, to make sure there's no complications with his healing — offering another guard in the interim while he recovers.

You've never shot down a proposal so quickly in your life. The nerve.

Twenty-two months into his contract, and the last of the moving boxes are taped shut and labeled. Some of them in your writing, the others in his. The keys to your new house are tucked into his pocket, alongside a black velvet box.

"Why do we have so much shit," you whine when packing, only two boxes deep and so many rooms left to go. You're too busy stuffing a manatee shaped steeper into a box — mana-tea, you giggled when he opened it, him rolling his eyes fondly in reply — and don't see him pause, looking at you softer, never hearing "we" before like that. Never dreaming he could hear it like that.

A lot of stalling on your part and encouragement on his, and the last box is packed and placed in the back of the truck.

He laces your fingers together as you drive to the new house, a bottle of champagne already chilled.

Twenty four months into his contract, and you come home with something hidden behind your back.

You smile like you have a secret, which would be a first.

It's awkward to bring around from your back, but there's a large German Shepard puppy wiggling in your grip, tail wagging furiously.

He feels his heart stop for a moment, unable to take his eyes off the puppy, and then the band that's sitting around your finger. He touches his own subconsciously.

You set the ball of fur down, who immediately launches at Simon, whining and wiggling and trying to give him kisses.

There's a collar and tag already there, and you watch with your heart beating faster than ever, unable to stop the smile on your lips, as he wrangles the pup enough to read it.

Riley.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Last, Last Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~7.3k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!

Alternate Ending! Spencer Masterlist

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.” 

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart. 

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.” 

“Wait for the potential of us?” 

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.” 

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.” 

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face. 

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....” 

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…” 

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved. 

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough. 

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.” 

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home. 

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..” 

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him. 

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty. 

And it stuck. 

Now? It stung. 

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms. 

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...” 

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face. 

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time. 

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you. 

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it. 

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you. 

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years. 

Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job. 

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off. 

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years. 

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone. 

Emily Prentiss

______________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.” 

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. . 

Spencer just stared at the photo. 

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.  I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call. 

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.” 

Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything. 

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?” 

“What?” 

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.” 

“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?” 

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now. 

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life. 

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter. 

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely. 

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit. 

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night. 

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car. 

Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face. 

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.” 

“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort. 

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?” 

The three of you moved inside. 

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like. 

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you. 

“What do you know about Cat Adams?” 

That bitch. 

______________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.” 

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.” 

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.” 

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was. 

“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.” 

Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips. 

Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too. 

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file. 

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh. 

“What is the last thing you know about her?” 

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later. 

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces. 

“What? What happened?” 

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?” 

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–” 

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.” 

Both of them went silent. 

“So is he out?” 

They nodded slowly, silently. 

“How long was he in there.”

Nothing. 

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.” 

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down. 

Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you. 

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?” 

“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.” 

Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her. 

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile. 

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind. 

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed. 

______________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room. 

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.” 

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.” 

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.” 

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer. 

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid. 

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture. 

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?” 

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.” 

______________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it. 

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest. 

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong. 

Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter. 

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?” 

“She took your father and sister.” 

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.” 

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear. 

“So why is she here?” You whispered back. 

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.” 

Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation. 

The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet. 

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent. 

The pity from Rossi's look was palpable. 

“Don’t even start.” 

He shrugged and stayed silent. 

Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.” 

Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.” 

You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone. 

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch. 

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch. 

______________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.” 

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.” 

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.” 

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?” 

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office. 

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily. 

Emily sighed in agreement. 

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n  really shouldn’t be in there.” 

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.” 

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ. 

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.” 

______________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open. 

And there he was. 

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years. 

And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams. 

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship. 

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed. 

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit. 

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine. 

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger. 

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?” 

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face. 

Remember what Prentiss had said to you. 

“You know why I’m here.” 

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them. 

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back. 

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off. 

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?” 

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser. 

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue. 

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.” 

You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense. 

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face. 

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before. 

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.” 

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.” 

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud. 

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?” 

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.” 

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?” 

“No.” you just looked down at your hands. 

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.” 

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?” 

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.” 

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her.  “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch. 

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed. 

Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?” 

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine. 

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.” 

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.” 

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.” 

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head. 

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.” 

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where. 

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.” 

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you. 

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?” 

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you. 

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?” 

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.” 

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?” 

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.” 

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.” 

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?” 

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here.  Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”. 

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?” 

“Last year.” 

“Was he good in bed?” 

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.” 

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow. 

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?” 

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”  

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?” 

“ I planned and I... I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send. 

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.” 

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.” 

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” . 

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.” 

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.” 

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.” 

She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer. 

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.” 

______________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up. 

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” 

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.” 

“Would you have written me back?” 

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer. 

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison. 

______________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke.  “We need to debrief.” 

Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in. 

“Spencer, are you okay?” 

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug. 

He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.

You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound. 

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached. 

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away. 

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other. 

“I should explain all of this.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.” 

You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.” 

He just nodded, staring at you really. 

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back. 

“Thank you for saving my sister and father.” 

Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find. 

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief. 

“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.” 

Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face. 

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger. 

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.” 

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…” 

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation. 

You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…” 

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was. 

He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.” 

Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better. 

You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago. 

You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him. 

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you. 

Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 

It was Spencer who spoke first. 

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—” 

You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did. 

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered. 

The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different. 

It’s not the way it used to be. 

“I need to go Spencer.” 

He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek. 

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. 

“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure. 

“Y/n…”

You took another step away from him and shook your head. 

“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.” 

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.” 

“Y/n please.” 

“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.” 

Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek. 

Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out. 

You didn’t. 

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you. 

But it had to end. 

You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you. 

Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car. 

Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces. 

You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you. 

The doors shut. 

You were all alone in this hollow parking garage. 

Your heart was aching, burning. 

But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time. 

[sarshles-cheescake-li]

Link Click, internet slang, and Chinese culture

On the Chinese internet, there's a nickname for Link Click called Shiguang Daidaoren, meaning "the blade-bringers of time" instead of "the managers of time," the original title. Calling something "blade" is Chinese internet slang for something being angsty; whether it be derivative content or the originals themselves. Another meme is that Link Click isn't zhiyu (治愈，healing), which it is tagged as on Bilibili, but zhiyu (致郁，causing depression).

Link Click, especially its first season, is a deeply emotional and sentimental show. And it's a shame that so much of it gets not so much lost in literal, linguistic translation as much as it does in cultural, contextual translation. Many people can understand Emma's pain of being away from her parents in a new city, working a difficult job. But watching the scrolling comments on Bilibili, you get the cultural context of it -- the massive migration patterns within China from rural to urban, the children growing up and having to shed their local fangyan (方言) or, less formally, tuhua (土话)("speech of the locations" and "old-fashioned words," respectively) in exchange for Beijing Mandarin. This massive nation, nearly twice the population of Europe and only about 6% smaller in terms of area, is so diverse as to have created (what is close to) an immigrant experience for its citizens entirely within its borders. You visit your parents on Chunjie (春节）, lunar/Chinese new year, on packed trains during the largest singular human migration event on Earth, annually. And when you get home, you are faced with something different from the cities you now live in -- everything from the buildings to the furniture to the clothes they wear. I hadn't realized how deeply I missed the gaudy, garish mianao (棉袄，coats) and mianbei (棉被，cotton blankets) until I saw familiar shades of too-bright burgundy in the hands of Emma's parents. The concept of this original-home, laojia (老家, old-home) is so strongly baked into our lives that every time I meet another Chinese person, I cannot but help but ask them 你老家哪儿啊? Where is your original-home? And even though I know nothing about Chinese geography, every time I hear the answer, a little piece slots into place nonetheless.

In slang, if something made you cry or otherwise feel an emotion you weren't expecting to feel, you refer to it as pofang (破防，breaking defences). And maybe it says something that an expression of human emotion is viewed as a failure in some defences, but that's introspection for another time. Watching on Bilibili, with its hundreds of comments scrolling by "My defences have been breached" and sobbing onomatopoeia, people in the comments saying that they miss their mothers and fathers -- I, too, miss my family. When Cheng Xiaoshi, in Chen Xiao's body, tried to speak his host body's local variation and came up with butchered dongbeihua (东北话, words of the east-north), I nearly fell out of my chair. It was the sound of home, of my grandmother telling us to hush around noon because our neighbours were napping and my grandfather showing me how to play spider solitaire.

Cheng Xiaoshi's breakdown in episode 5 hits hard for its vulnerability. "I'm scared of the dark" has the same literal meaning as "我���黑," sure, but there is something devastatingly childlike in that three-syllable declaration of fear. Where English so often derives meaning from complexity, from winding metaphors and beautiful prose, Chinese can derive breathtaking meaning from less breath than it takes to say the word analogy. 我怕黑 is stripped of any grown-up pretenses of control or dignity. It is the barest this statement can be: I. Scared. Darkness.

And what he says following, too. 我害怕一个人. Longer yet no less potent. Alone, or lonely, has many translations in Chinese. 孤独. 寂寞. 孤单. 单独. Many more synonyms for all the different ways you can be lonely. But 一个人 is, once again, an almost child-like way of saying it. Before you have the vocabulary to express these complex emotions, 一个人 is a perfectly working expression. Translating it character-by-character, it means one singular person. It is something you say when you've been left behind. When you've been made to face everything by yourself. When the world is so, so, big, and you are just one singular person, with no companions to stand with you.

And, ah, Li Tianxi's Chinese nickname, 小希. It is the last character of her full name, with a "little" shoved right in front. It is an affectionate way to call someone younger than you. It is different from Xixi, its English rendition, because a repetition of the last character is a more generalized, affectionate nickname, whereas diminutives are almost always reserved for someone younger than you, when used in real life. The diminutive says don't be scared. I'm here now. I'll handle it.

There are endless details in Link Click that make everything about it seem a little bit more like home. The word 面馆 which means something a little, subtly different than "restaurant" or "noodles shop," a difference lost without the context of the phrase 下馆子 and the way adults say it with the gladness of once-children who only ate meat on new years. The "honorifics" as English calls them, to me more of just -- ingrained parts of someone's name. Within the snap of Mandarin syllables there is meaning and memory in every character. Jie, mei, di, ge, lao, da, xiao -- they are more than their literal meanings. They are a relationship, a promise.

Perhaps I am overthinking this, awkwardly Chinese as I am: too localized to be considered first-generation, too stubbornly attached to relate to second-generation. Maybe these linguistic subtleties only exist and matter in my mind, a writer of both languages (though I must say, my Chinese prose leaves… much to be desired) with a knack for pedantics. Regardless, I hope other Chinese fans of this show share this feeling. And surely, other people will, too. All the rural children who left home to pursue higher education and opportunities in faraway cities; the raised-in-poverty who spent their childhoods dreaming of buying their family new coats; the speakers of languages long since abandoned by their childhood friends. What a delight it is to see yourself in stories, neither exception nor abnormality but a norm. What a joy it is to be one of one point four billion.

[armageddidnt]

Welcome to My Collection of Random Thoughts during my nth* rewatch of Good Omens Season 2

*only amazon prime knows the exact number at this point but I’m fairly certain it’s in the double digits

Episode 1: Gabriel’s fly lurking in the box when Aziraphale first takes it inside 👀

Crowley’s promise of “two minutes�� basically means that he’s been homeless and living in his car for the past 4 years strictly so that he can be within 2 driving minutes of Aziraphale at all times in case his angel needs him I’m not crying you are

So here I think the key word is “fragile,” Crowley knows they are ostensibly safe from their respective sides but that could change at any moment so he’s basically spent the last 4 years in anxiety-ridden terror hovering as close to Aziraphale as he can to try and protect him from heaven, hell, and anyone else that would want to bring him harm after all that business they pulled in season 1 with stopping Armageddon

Episode 2: I just happened to pause the episode while Aziraphale is lying to the angels about his miracle and LOL Michael really outdid himself here (Sheen, not the Archangel)

Gabriel trying to swat flies and almost smashing the repository of every single one of his memories

I’m cAckling

So if Good Omens exists in Good Omens, does that mean Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett exist in Good Omens?? Do you think they based their Aziraphale and Crowley characters on Aziraphale and Crowley??

Episode 3: So I’m trying to find any hints or foreshadowing of the Gabriel Beelzebub thing bc tbh I did kind of feel like it came out of nowhere which is really the only issue I have with them. I found this one scene where Beelzebub almost ?? seems to be concerned about Gabriel ?? But it’s blink and you miss it and there could be lots of other reasons why Beelzebub doesn’t want to fail in locating Gabriel (pressure from/leverage over heaven, etc) so idk

More Foreshadowing Fly content 🪰

Episode 4: So here we’ve seen that Shax can just appear inside the Bentley bc she did it earlier to talk to Crowley. Shax only pretended to be a hitchhiker so she could be invited in because Azirpahale was driving so technically she needed permission to cross the threshold of an angel 👀

This scene will never not destroy me the 1941 flashback is the absolute sOFTEST thing ever to happen on this show

We really need more context here I need to see the Crowley-Furfur Monkey Rides

Episode 5: ahahaha thank you google translate for absolutely destroying my sanity this evening

POP goes the Ziraphale

Okay I know you can’t hear it in the gif but just before Nina takes Maggie’s hand, there’s a very quiet miracle noise, like Azirpahale literally MADE Nina dance with Maggie, he said I’m writing a Mina Jane-Austen-Ball-AU and my otp will KISS godDAMMIT

Azirpahale seems lowkey kind of manic this whole scene tho, he’s controlling literally everyone to force Nina and Maggie together and whenever Crowley says anything that pokes holes in Aziraphale’s Magical Jane Austen Ball Fairytale, Aziraphale just straight up denies it. He wants Nina and Maggie to dance and he wants him and Crowley to dance and he refuses to acknowledge anything beyond that.

Is this just Shax insulting Crowley for how much of a nuisance he’s been or a reference to his former status as an angel ???

They’re both completely dismissive of each other when they’re trying to say something important and that’s the main issue they’ve been having this entire season tbh

Episode 6: I think it’s funny that Crowley describes the angels as bees here because in the book, Neil/Terry describe humans the same way. Guess we have more in common than we thought huh?

So the metatron was the one who originally decided Gabriel would be memory wiped and not sent to hell, and he was also the one that decided not to sound an alarm about Gabriel for some reason and said ‘just go find him yourself’ instead. The metatron has definitely got his own agenda and you can bet he doesn’t want Aziraphale up there in heaven because he’s a “leader” and he’s “honest” like that’s exactly what Gabriel was and look where it got him 👀

There’s just something I can’t quite put my finger on about the metatron bringing Aziraphale a coffee from “give me coffee or give me death” and then asking Aziraphale if he’s going to take the coffee he’s giving him…

I have not seen a single person talk about this since s2 came out but Nina literally calls Maggie “angel” because that’s the term of endearment they hear Crowley using for Aziraphale !!!! I’m still going fERAL over this and I can’t believe no one else is eitHER

Something about this part of The Final Fifteen compared to this scene from the first episode is so representative of the entire season. Azirpahale keeps saying “my way or get out” and Crowley finally hits a wall and can follow Aziraphale no further. So he does just that. He goes.

I’m sure a lot of us by now have seen this post that brings up how Aziraphale literally pushes the remains of Crowley into his mouth and swallows and it’s the only thing I see when I watch this now

We still don’t know for certain if Crowley queued up this song to play on their way to the Ritz or if the Bentley started playing it all on its own and it’s driving me insane

Basically how I am doing after my Truly-Alarming-Number-th watch of this traumatizing episode/season. WELP hope you enjoyed this garbage dump of my thoughts and feelings time to go cry for a bit again BYE

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ RIIZE when you cry while hugging after a long day

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre fluff pairing bf!riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

After working all day, all you wanted was to get home. It hadn’t been a great day, to say the least, as you were quite tired and had made several mistakes with orders, which led to your superiors scolding you. After finishing your shift, you started walking home, but before you knew it, you ended up at Shotaro’s house. To be honest, you had been thinking all day about how much you needed to see him. Just seeing his smile could recharge your energy. You knocked on the door, and within seconds, Shotaro (who was in pajamas) opened it and looked at you, confused. “Oh, y/n, what are you doing here? Is something wrong...?”

As soon as you saw him, you walked up to him and hugged him. After a few seconds, he hugged you back. Feeling his arms around you, you couldn’t hold back any longer, and you began to cry, burying your face in his chest. Shotaro noticed but decided not to ask anything, hugging you in silence while closing the front door. “You’re staying over tonight, and you can’t say no.”

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

You couldn’t take it anymore. You had been stressed out all day for various reasons and couldn’t stop overthinking several things. Fortunately, you had plans to watch a series at Eunseok’s place that night. When you were with him, it felt like all your problems disappeared. Or so you thought. At first, you were fine, but once you cuddled up on the couch to watch the series, you couldn’t help but lose focus and start thinking about everything again, getting stressed all over again. Even though you tried, you couldn’t help but start crying, hugging him tighter. Eunseok looked at you, confused, and paused the episode. “Are you crying, y/n?” He let out a small sigh as he hugged you back, gently stroking your hair. “Ah... my crybaby. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

You were tired from spending the whole day studying at the library. Your final exams were coming up, and you needed to maintain the grades you had so far, so you were basically studying every day until dinner time. When you packed up and left the library, you didn’t expect to see Sungchan waiting for you at the door. He walked up to you with a smile. “Sungchan, what are you doing here...?” “Picking up my girlfriend,” he said as he opened his arms toward you. You stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process what was happening, and then walked into his embrace. Before you knew it, you were crying into Sungchan’s chest. Realizing this, he gently stroked your head. “Studying is tiring, right, princess? Come on, I’ll treat you to dinner.”

ᯓ★ WONBIN

You couldn’t understand how, after practicing the same choreography all day, you still couldn’t memorize it. The truth is, you hadn’t been able to sleep much these days, so you were already tired, but at the same time, it frustrated you that you couldn’t dance it properly. Almost everyone had already left; it was just you and Wonbin left in the practice room. Wonbin had decided to stop over an hour ago but was waiting for you. Seeing how late it was getting and how tired you looked, Wonbin walked over to you and touched your arm to get your attention. “Y/n, we should go. You’ve done enough for today.” “But... it’s just... I still can’t get it right and...” Wonbin looked at you intently. He knew how tired and frustrated you were, so he pulled you into a hug. You didn’t take a second before you started sobbing on his shoulder, letting out all the stress you had felt that day. “I know, I know what you mean, but you need to rest.”

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

“What’s wrong, y/n? You look a little tired...” That was the first thing Seunghan said when you met that night. It was one of your friend’s birthdays, and you had arranged to meet Seunghan half an hour earlier so you could go together. You had been working all day, and you were tired from running errands for your boss. Even though you tried to hide your exhaustion with some makeup, Seunghan could instantly tell something was wrong. When you looked at him to tell him what was bothering you, you were met with his worried eyes, and you simply felt like the words wouldn’t come out. “Do you want a hug?” Seunghan asked, opening his arms, and you nodded, immediately starting to cry. “If you want, we can skip the birthday party and go home. I can say I’m sick...”

ᯓ★ SOHEE

Sohee and you had planned to have dinner at the beach for your anniversary for weeks, which excited both of you since you both loved the beach at night. You didn’t expect to be so tired after working all day. You didn’t want to cancel your date with Sohee, since it was your anniversary, so you decided to try and ignore your intrusive thoughts and enjoy the dinner. And you did, but not for long. After dinner, the two of you cuddled on the towel, watching the waves in silence. When Sohee pulled you closer to him for a hug, you couldn’t control it anymore, and tears started falling down your cheeks. Neither of you spoke; Sohee had already noticed you were tired and knew that all you needed was a hug from him and his company, so you both stayed in silence, embracing each other while looking at the moon.

ᯓ★ ANTON

When you texted Anton that you wanted to see him, all he could think was that he had done something wrong, which made him quite nervous. Even though he spent the entire afternoon trying to think of something he might have done wrong, he couldn’t think of anything, which stressed him out even more. When he knocked on your door, you quickly opened it, letting him in without saying anything. “Is something wrong, y/n...?” Anton murmured, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest. “No... I’m just tired... I needed you...” you whispered, your voice trembling. Anton let out a sigh of relief when he heard you, wrapping his arms around you. You couldn’t help but start crying as soon as you felt his embrace. You could feel all the stress and exhaustion you had felt throughout the day slowly fading away as you hugged him.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @cherryishxo @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars

[luckthebard]

Something I was musing about this morning is how if there’s one major critique I have of C2, it’s that Matt was almost too inflexible with the rules, often seemingly against his own instincts and sometimes to the detriment of the game’s momentum. I remember almost cheering when he firmly decided to stop looking something up they were going in circles over in episode 76 or so (“and that’s how I’m ruling it in my game”) and I think for a long time I blamed it almost entirely on Matt being way too aware of fan back-seat gaming, which he has thankfully really seemed to move away from or at least care less about.

But something I hadn’t considered until it groggily occurred to me on my commute this morning is that that change for Matt’s stance on the rules in C2 might also have been influenced by their massive campaign-long deal with DnD Beyond as a digital toolset.* Hard to be promoting a tool that puts the rules at your fingers if you’re not following those rules, or so I could imagine the logic/concern around the issue. But that also made me think about which players were not necessarily shy about brutal honesty about the way the tool didn’t work for them. DND Beyond in 2018 was a far cry from the functionality it has today. And Liam, whether simply from playing a wizard and having a complicated character or just being a straightforward and set in his way guy, would frequently turn to books/spell cards rather than deal with his tablet. Which also led to the funny ongoing phenomenon of Sam announcing improvements to the tool in an ad which just happened to coincide with something that was making issues for Liam a few weeks before lol.

Anyway, this post is rambling and doesn’t have a point other than that I’m glad Matt feels more free to houserule in C3 for whatever reason (mostly cause he seems more comfortable) and reminding myself of how funny it was how thinly concealed Liam’s dislike for the virtual character sheet was for at least the first half of C2.

*important context for this for people who joined CR later is this was also waaaay before WotC bought DnD Beyond. It was a start-up that was acquired by Fandom in 2018 (around the time of the CR partnership) and would remain a 3rd party toolset until WotC paid good money for it in 2022. Just to level-set about the business relationship that happened in C2.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.3 K Warnings: The angst is still angsting Prompt: Vixen feels like she needs to run away but, Where to? How? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it Proofread by Lovely @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 54: Sail Away Sweet Sister

Sail away sweet sister Sail across the sea I know you'll find somebody To love you as much as me

Your heart drummed in your ears as you ran upstairs. Taking the suitcase you’d brought and quickly filling it up with some of the clothes you’d left scattered around. Your coat was downstairs, so you took one of Remus’ fluffiest sweaters and put that on top of one of yours. 

Whatever you did, you couldn’t stay, because then you might run to Sirius’ arms and tell him all you said was a lie, that you loved him –because you did– and that you dreaded the idea of not being with him, which was also true. Your stomach was so twisted you had to swallow your will to puke at least once as you put whatever you found inside your suitcase. 

What the hell have I done? you wondered, as you remembered what you’d said to Sirius, as you remembered using something like charmspeak on Remus. No, it wasn’t like it, it had been it. You had seen your mother use it before, she had told you how it felt to use it, and your grandma had talked about the terrible thing it was, as powerful and disarming as imperius. And then you had gone and used it on your best friend. On the person that you’d left your boyfriend for, no matter how you saw it, you were awful. 

Even if you hadn’t meant to do it, even if you didn’t even know you could. You had manipulated –forced– him into leaving you crying on the stairwell and going with Sirius instead. He hadn’t had a say in it, he just mindlessly followed your stupid instructions. It made you feel even worse about the entire situation. You were still crying, hands trembling as you forced shut your suitcase and held it with one hand. You had pulled out Nina’s wand. You had never used it, and you didn’t want to do it either, but you weren’t about to leave the house without any means of producing magic, so you had carefully taken it out of the back drawer and stared at it for a second before shoving it in your shirt and finishing your task.

You looked around, the wonderful and lovely place you had been staying at and almost felt sorry for yourself. But you knew Remus and Sirius had to be alone with each other if they would sort things out and therefore you had to leave. 

But where to? 

You couldn’t go back to your house, you couldn’t go back to Remus’ house, and you couldn’t go back to the school without sending a note first. You took a deep breath. A place where you could do magic if necessary without being detected by the ministry, a place where you could get a new wand, a place where you could get the stuff you needed for school. Diagon. 

You had just stood up from the bed when you heard a faint knock on the door. 

Remus was completely disoriented by the time he reached the kitchen. Sirius was curled up on the floor, his head hidden in between his knees and quietly sobbing. Remus turned back to look at the stairs, but you were not there anymore. He swallowed, he wasn’t sure why he’d left, but he suspected what it might have been. You had always been charming, but you had never charmed anyone. Not like that, but it would make sense that you had such an ability, especially after being in close contact with fae things, not only the fruit his mother had given you but also the fae pool.

Either way, he didn’t even have time to process it properly, he was torn, should he stay with Sirius or should he run behind you? There was no easy choice, there was no right choice. He hesitated on the door for a second, and it was Sirius’ quiet sob that had him kneel down next to his friend. He’d talk to Sirius and then the two would talk to you, simple. He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

Sirius raised his head, hopeful, “Vi–” he started, and then he noticed who was on the other side. “Moony,” he breathed.

Sirius could tell he was worried, Moony looked at him with such a heavy look of concern, his brows almost touching from how deep his frown was. And yet he looked beautiful. Sirius felt horrible, how could he look at Moony and think of how incredible he was when you had just broken up with him for that same reason?!

“What happened?” Remus asked, kneeling down next to Sirius and shutting the door with a simple wave of his hand so no one would walk into the kitchen. He moved one of Sirius’ curls behind his ear to look at his face better. His beautiful eyes were red-rimmed, and his long lashes stuck to one another from the tears he’d shed. 

Sirius sobbed, he didn’t even know where to start. “I think…” he stammered, chest tight at the mere thought of it. “She broke up with me.” 

“What?!” Remus asked in disbelief. If there was something he was sure of, it was how much you loved each other. He was also feeling incredibly high levels of despair and anguish now. He was not expecting your break-up to be so harrowing for him. After all, if you were both single then that would mean he had a chance with at least one of you. 

But he didn’t care about chances, he didn’t care about being with either of you if you couldn’t be with each other. He had seen the pain in your eyes, he had seen the hurt in Sirius’, there was no way you had done it willingly.

“Maybe it’s a prank, an awful prank but a prank. Maybe someone’s forced her to–” 

“No,” Sirius mewled. “It was me, I fucked up.” His voice broke near the end of his sentence and he covered his face with his hands. “I ruined everything!” 

Remus’ gaze softened as he sat next to Sirius and started playing with his hair in the same reassuring way he had seen you do plenty of times, which just made Sirius’ sobbing increase. He loved and he hated that he did. Remus frowned, “Sirius–” 

“I fell in love with someone else,” Sirius admitted in a whisper. 

Remus’ hand stopped moving entirely. The sorrow and pain he felt for Sirius had turned into shock. With someone else? Something bubbled up inside him, he felt his muscles tense and his gaze harden. If Sirius had fallen for someone and you had found out about it, then he had broken your heart. Your already feeble fucking heart. Remus wasn’t sad anymore, he was furious. There was a growing hostility inside of him, because Sirius had fallen for someone else and in the process he had hurt you. He’d seen the tears streaming down your cheeks, he’d seen your red and puffy eyes, you had cried and it had been Sirius, of all people, the one that caused it. 

“And you told her?” Remus reproached, voice a little louder, judging. “You know what she went through in Christmas you–” 

“Of course, I didn’t fucking tell her!” Sirius retorted, borderline angry, he’d never been good at keeping his temper. “She figured it out, she’s always been clever like that.” 

“How could you?” Again, it was that judging gaze, Remus was frowning and leaning away from Sirius.  

Sirius noticed and huffed, “It wasn’t just me. We weren’t exactly subtle about it.” 

“You and who, Sirius?” Remus asked, he could barely hold back the expression of disgust. He loved Sirius but hurting you was crossing the line. “You cheated on her?” 

“Of course not! You and me!” Sirius responded, pointing at the two.

Remus froze again. Anger dissipated into confusion, his breath caught in his throat as Sirius’ stunning grey eyes fixated on his. “What…” Remus stuttered, mouth trembling as he thought of the words he needed to say next “What do you mean you and me?” 

Sirius huffed again and bit his lip before speaking, “She seems to be under the impression that you like me, Remus.” 

“That’s–” Remus’ breath was heavy, he was struggling to think properly, his head was all over the place. What did all of it mean? “Even if I did, she shouldn’t have broken up with you just because of that!” 

Sirius let out a pained sort of laugh, “She figured I–” he was cut off by his own sharp intake of breath, he exhaled, “She figured I liked you back.” 

Remus was barely processing the words that came out of Sirius’ mouth. His best friend, his everlasting crush, had just admitted how much he liked him and rather than feeling happy about it, he was feeling sorrow for you. 

“You’re an idiot!” 

“I know,” Sirius said simply. 

“How could you fall for someone else when you had her?” 

Oh– Hadn’t he done the same? Granted he’d never dated either of you, but he had fallen for both. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius sobbed. “I didn’t even know I liked men until–” he averted his gaze, eyes trickling with tears as he tried to speak again. “She taught me it was possible to like both.” 

“And you fell in love with a man shortly after,” Remus reproached. He might have been the man, but it didn’t make it any better for you. 

“She said she didn’t love me anymore, she said she stopped loving me the minute she figured I liked you.” 

“I doubt that’s true,” Remus said honestly. He’d seen the way you looked at each other, he’d seen the love in both of your eyes. 

“It’s bullshit, I could tell!” 

“And why didn’t you go after her?” 

“You don’t understand,” Sirius said. “She’s stupid self-righteous. She’s not going to come back, not as long as she knows about us.” 

“There is nothing between us!” 

Sirius turned to him, his eyes still red and teary, but looking at Remus with a sort of accepting gaze, he let out a long breath. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if that were true.” 

He looked beautiful, even when his world was crumbling apart and had enough tears streaming down his face to fill oceans. It was ridiculous how much Remus could hate what he had done, and yet love him just the same. How could he hate him for hurting you, when Sirius had done it by doing the one thing he had hoped of him for years? 

Remus was hesitant as he leaned onto him, his hand heavy as he placed it on Sirius’ cheek, he wiped one of his tears and Sirius closed his eyes, basking in the calm and warmth that Remus’ touch brought. It had always been calming in some sort of way, but it had never been as soothing as that day. Remus leaned close to Sirius, close enough to feel his breath fan his face, he was about to kiss him, that kiss he’d longed for ages, but he stopped and pulled back. 

“We go, and we talk to her,” he said as he stood up, and pulled Sirius along with him. 

“What?” Sirius said confused, trying to wipe the tears with his hands, making his face grow redder with how harsh he was being. 

Remus was tempted to pull Sirius’ hands from his face but decided that maintaining a decent distance between the two would be better. “We tell her she’s wrong. We tell her I don’t like you, however the hell she might have gotten that idea. And you tell her you were confused and we’ve talked and–” 

“She won’t buy it.” 

“Sirius.” 

“You wouldn’t buy it if I told you I didn’t like her, Remus!” 

The former was taken aback, Sirius’ words meant a lot more than they let on: he liked both of them in equal amounts. But Remus was too distracted to listen to it, his breath short as he kept racking his brain for a solution, anything to have the both of you smiling again. 

“I barely know how she didn’t notice earlier, for fucks sake, I’ve drawn you none stop lately, I’ve been wearing your clothes as much as she does, we fucking sleep together every other night–” 

“That’s for Moony…” 

“Is it, though? Is it really for Moony? After the moon? After he accepted Vixen?” 

The three of you knew it wasn’t for Moony anymore, but neither would have dared to say it, Sirius might have been the only one brave enough. 

“There must be a way. We need to talk to her Sirius… we– I’ll step out of the way,” tears pricked in Remus’ eyes. It was hard to accept what had happened, he sighed. “I’m the one that got in between.” 

Sirius looked at Remus with a sort of understanding that only two people in the same situation could have for each other. “I’m as much to blame as you are.” 

There was a moment of silence, nothing other than each other’s breath was heard, the gentle and yet ragged way in which their breathing synchronised would have been romantic if they weren’t both close to falling apart. 

“We’ll show her then.” 

“What?” 

“We don’t try anything, I go back to Alice or whomever and when she realises I’m not interested then she’ll come back to you, guilt-free and–” 

“Remus,” Sirius interrupted. “For how long?” 

“How long what?” 

“How long have you liked me?” 

Remus’ gaze hardened. There was no easy answer. “It wouldn’t matter if I had a longer claim than she does–” 

“Longer than we dated?” 

Remus hesitated, looking anywhere but at Sirius until he had enough strength to turn back. Those piercing grey eyes, he couldn't lie to them anymore. “Probably since before you met her,” he admitted. “I didn’t know what it was until we kissed.” 

“Ugh, I’m so blind!” Sirius complained as he hid his face between his hands again. He remembered that kiss, it had been a wonderful kiss. Of course, he didn’t even think how gay that was until now. He turned to Remus again. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“You were dating any girl that winked at you, Sirius. I thought you were the straightest person I knew. I mean I would have thrown my money on James being queer before I threw it on you! Either way, it doesn’t matter, I didn’t say anything and I still wouldn’t have said anything, I’d never want to come in between. I’m sure I’ll get over it and–” 

“If you didn’t get over it for 2 years, Remus…” 

“Well, I don’t care! Sirius, she’s barely holding herself together after Christmas, you’ve seen her!” 

“I’m the worst boyfriend in the world,” Sirius sighed. 

“We should talk to her,” Remus said, “We have to go talk to her now!” 

“And say what, exactly?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t care, but we lock ourselves in a room and we don’t leave until we’ve talked this through. The three of us.” 

Sirius was hesitant, he wasn’t sure Remus’ solution would work. He didn’t see a way in which you could just talk it through. He had fallen in love with someone else, he had broken your heart, and he didn’t think there were enough words in the world to fix it. Not when you still loved him and had decided to move out of the way, for Remus and for him. 

Not when you thought, with such fallacious certainty that the only way in which either Remus and Sirius would be happy, was with each other and away from you. Sirius gulped and turned to Remus with a meek, almost begrudging nod. 

Remus handed Sirius a napkin and he was quick to wipe the track of his tears with it. 

“It’s obvious I’ve been crying,” he swallowed. “If anybody sees us…”

“Stand next to me,” Remus said before casting a Disillusionment Charm over his friend. Sirius hesitated before he leaned closer to Remus, he hated how good it felt to be able to stand this close to him, he hated that he kept thinking of how well Remus smelled and how incredible he was at handling these kinds of situations. The absolute reverence he felt for him was so akin to love that he felt he was betraying you, even while he was desperate to fix things, to hug you and pray for forgiveness until his throat was sore and you promised you’d take him back.

The two of them walked side by side, shoulders brushing against each other constantly, Sirius wasn’t sure if Remus was standing so close to him on purpose, if that was how it went with men. Sirius had never dated a man before, he had no idea what such relationships entailed, and he had no idea if Remus stood so close to him because of that or if it was because of how concerned he was. Knowing Remus, it might have been the latter. 

And it was, Remus was standing close to Sirius to remind himself that this was real. That it wasn’t a dream, that Sirius liked him back and that it was about the worst possible time for him to figure it out. But he was also there because he wanted to be there for Sirius, he wasn’t sure he’d seen him cry like that since he got kicked out of his house, and he hadn’t even been there, but rather it had been James the one that sent him a letter with the details of the situation before he took the Floo to the Potters. Perhaps the one time he had seen Sirius as upset as he was today, was after the incident with Severus, but back then, Remus had been so angry at him that he had done almost the exact same thing that you’d done to Sirius earlier. 

He had left him crying, alone. This time around, he hadn’t been the wronged one, but he had been on the wrong-doing side. And no matter how guilty he felt for it, how guilty the two of them felt for falling in love, there was still a magnetism that pulled them together like the wind called on the waves and like the stars called in the sky. 

This time around, Remus was determined to be a supportive friend, not only for Sirius but for you as well. It didn’t matter if he had to bear seeing the two of you together again, in fact, after seeing both of your reactions to what had happened, he wasn’t sure there was anything he wanted more. Or… perhaps deep down, a greedy part of him did. A selfish part of him could see one outcome that would make him the happiest man alive, but of course that was a dream. So unrealistic and ridiculous that he wouldn’t even dare speak it aloud. 

It would make him sound too selfish, too greedy, like the men who wanted to have it all and at the end of the story, ended with nothing, as atonement for asking too much of the world. Icarus, Midas, Macbeth, Dorian Grey; all their stories, their lives, they all ended despondently. 

Remus had always been coolheaded, and though he liked to think he was realistic, he often veered towards pessimism, and there was nothing more pessimistic going through the exact same thought process you had gone through. To step out of the way to make the other two happy. 

Sirius was still standing close to Remus, almost behind him, when Remus leaned over the door and knocked on the door. There was no answer, he knocked again, a little louder this time, and then placed his hand on the doorknob. The door creaked open, and they both looked inside. The bed was messy, your clothes were gone, and they had left along with you.

The knock on the door had been none other than Effie. She’d found you crying with Nina’s wand in your hand. You tried to wipe the tears away when she walked in, but it had been too late, she’d seen them, and she’d seen your luggage. 

She frowned and approached you slowly. “Darling, are you okay?” 

You swallowed, your breathing was hard, and your face was slightly scrunched up as you shook your head in response. She crossed the room in an instant and wrapped you in her arms. She was taller than you, and she held your face to her collarbone as she brushed her hand over your head. It was such a kind and motherly gesture, that you couldn’t help but shed tears again. 

It’s not that you would have gone straight to your mother in a situation like this, but it was the fact that you couldn’t, even if you wanted to, that had upset you even further. She was kind and soft, she was gentle as she brushed her hand over your hair and made a soft, shooing sound for you, almost like the ocean. 

“I–” you floundered, “need to leave.” 

She pulled back to look at you, she had a similar expression of concern as the one Remus had given you. “Darling, you can stay for as long as you want–”  

“No,” you interrupted, voice soft but determined. “I have to, Effie. Please.” 

She took a deep breath and licked her lips before focusing her face on you, “Why?”

“It’s complicated.” 

“You’re not leaving until you tell me.” 

You took a deep breath, your gaze cast downwards before you uttered the strength to say your next words, “I broke Sirius’ heart.” It was the truth, and you felt your own heart shatter with the realisation. It’s for the best, you thought. I must do it, for them. 

Effie looked at you, first confused and then, almost reproachingly. As if you hurting Sirius –her son– had changed the entire idea she had of you. But she had also seen the way you looked at Sirius and therefore, was more confused than angry. 

“What?” 

“Please, Effie. You said you’d help,” your voice was slow, broken. “I can’t see him again, not now. Not until we’ve both processed–” 

“You should talk instead.” 

“No,” you said again, just as determined as last time. “I can’t talk, or I will make it worse, so much worse. I’ve already made it bad enough. I’ll owe you one.” 

Effie bit her lip, “Where will you go?” 

“Diagon.” 

“You have anyone there?” 

“A friend of my mother,” you lied. She squinted her eyes at you, as if she didn’t quite believe you. But you had already lied that day, you had already told Sirius the biggest lie of your life and therefore, these smaller ones came out as simply and naturally as flying did to you. 

“We’re not close, but I’m sure he’ll take me, at least until school starts.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’ll write to you when I’m there.” 

Effie took a deep breath, a strong, wise part of her told her that she had to force you to stay, to talk to Sirius and to fix things, rather than run away. But she wasn’t sure you would, even if you stayed. Not with everything that had happened to you, not with everything that you’d gone through. She shook her head as if reproaching herself for the decision she’d made and then looked at you. “Okay.” 

You held back a sob, “Thank you.” 

She placed her hand behind your back and pulled you outside of the room. You heard a set of steps climbing up the stairwell on the right, but Effie was quick enough to walk the two of you inside a room, shutting the door shortly after. You heard the soft murmuring of Sirius and Remus as they knocked on the door of the other room, and you turned to Effie urgently.

She had taken you into her study. She had a lard chimney behind her desk. 

“If you don’t write, I’ll find you,” she said, it was something between a threat and a promise.

“Don’t tell them where I am.”

“I won’t,” she reassured as she handed you the bag with Floo powder. 

You took some in your hand and threw it on the chimney. The flames turned green and grew as you said “Diagon.”

You were about to step into the fire when she stopped you, she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t run away.” 

You froze. You had been running, from your pain and from your problems and if you stopped they’d caught up with you and then you weren’t sure you’d be able to cope, you’d fall apart. You turned to her, there were tears in your eyes. “Thank you, Effie. I’ll owe you one for the rest of our lives.” 

She stared at you sadly. She had seen how distressed you were, she had felt it too. Emotions so strong they were perceived even by others, she had heard of that kind of magic, but she had never experienced it, not with sadness and sorrow, at least. 

“Is she here?” Sirius asked, voice on edge as he hastily opened the door. Remus stood behind him, equally pale.

“Who, darling?” Effie asked as if she didn’t know exactly what Sirius had meant.

The flames spit you out into the middle of Diagon, there was still light. You wiped the tears from your eyes and walked straight towards the one place you knew you’d be able to stay at: The Leaky Cauldron. There were a few witches and wizards sitting on the different tables, most of them looking worse for wear. There was a man with a very large bird in the corner. It wasn’t an owl, or an eagle, or anything you had seen on magical creatures and where to find them, but the bird cawed at the man until he threw him a piece of his steak. 

There was an old lady reading tarot to a man in one of the corners and she turned to you with a sinister smile, “5 sickles and I’ll tell you your destiny, pretty girl.”  

“Thank you, mam. But I don’t do readings.” 

“You don’t believe in the power of the cards?” 

“I have seen the power of them,” you admitted in a serious tone. 

She pulled your hand to hers with a sharp movement. Her grip was hard, and even as you tried to pull back she held you in place. 

“Do you want the good or the bad news?” She asked as she tilted her head to you.

“I said I don’t want any news,” you responded sharply. You didn’t like random strangers manhandling you, no matter how old and feeble-looking they might be. You considered taking out your wand but the last thing you wanted was to call more attention to yourself. Not to mention, you didn’t have a wand, and you had never tried to use Nina’s. You tried to pull your hand again and she tutted. 

“I’ll give you a free reading, just because of how upset you seem.” 

“I don’t–” 

“You’ll find love soon.” 

You scoffed, laughing at her words in a mocking-like, bitter manner, if you hadn’t done that, perhaps you would have cried.

“A lot of love, it seems to me here that two boys–” 

“Stop!” you interrupted angrily. “I said I didn’t want readings. And you’re absolutely terrible at it anyway. Find love? Yeah, sure,” you scoffed. “There are higher chances for me to find a terrible, uncalled-for dеath, than there are for me to find love again. Now, please,” it did not sound like a request, “give me my hand back.” 

She let go of your hand as she cocked her head to the side with a curious gaze. “You seem lost child, I can help you find yourself.” 

“I know exactly where I am, thank you,” you said as you pulled your hand away from her sharply. You were sure one of her nails had scratched you by the stinging sensation in your hand. You were quick to turn around and walk towards the back counter of the pub where they had a small sign that claimed they had available rooms. 

The woman shook her head as she saw you leave and turned to the friend next to her. “You saw it too, right?” 

The man in front of her nodded. “She’ll have a surprise when she figures it out.” 

“Poor thing, so bitter and yet so young,” responded the witch.

“She might be having a bad day,” said the man with a shrug as he pulled another card from the deck and placed it on the table. 

You rolled your eyes and quickened your pace towards the counter. Once you reached, a tall, slightly imposing man gave you an impassive look. “I’d like a room.” 

“How old are you?” 

“Old enough to rent a room,” you responded. “I’ll stay here for the rest of the week and pay in advance.” 

The man scoffed and nodded, handing you a key when you handed him enough Galleons to cover for your stay and then some. “Madam Rim will show you to your room,” he said and nodded towards a small woman sleeping in a chair in the corner. 

You approached her carefully and said her name a couple of times before she trembled and turned to you with an angry gaze. The man on the counter snickered when you jumped at her angry look. One of her eyes was completely black, and you weren’t sure if she could actually see you with it. Then when she closed it, it was like that of a reptile. 

“Why have you awoken me, child?” Her breath was foul, and you tried to keep the disgust you felt away from your face so as not to piss her off further. 

“I was told you’d bring me to my room.” 

She rolled her eyes, or well, her one eye, and then turned to you again, “Number?” 

“Thirteen,” you said after checking your keys.

“What a terrible omen,” she responded as she stood up, you would have sworn you heard her bones creak as she did. Her back was hunched from age and she looked like the kind of woman muggles would call a witch. In fact, you might have seen her on the cover of one of those children’s books at the Muggle Library. 

“Now, that,” you remarked. “Is a prediction that I’d believe in.” 

She turned to you with a confused and judging sort of gaze and then motioned for you to follow behind her. She guided you through a long set of stairs and then to a corridor, she stopped in front of a door and motioned towards it. “Your room.” 

“Thank you,” you said with a nod and placed the key on the lock.  You turned but the door wouldn’t budge. She was almost at the end of the hall when you called. “Madam Rim, I think I got the wrong key.” 

She shook her head, “Just push a bit more, it gets stuck often.” 

You sighed but did what told, twisting the door and pushing again. Nothing happened. Madam Rim had already left, and you were stuck outside of your room. You left the suitcase you’d been carrying on the floor and attempted to push again but it didn’t work either. 

You groaned, exasperated and tried once more, this time leaning all of your weight on your shoulder, but the door opened before you even touched it and you stumbled inside the room, your head would have hit the bed pole if you hadn’t used your hand to stop your fall. “Fuck.” 

“Ah,” you complained, looking at your hand. You tried to move it but it hurt, which had you wince in pain as you walked out of the room, grabbed the suitcase, and then walked back inside, closing the door with unnecessary force. It was like the fucking universe was trying to play a joke on you, the door had bounced back and you’d barely had enough time to get out of the way before getting hit. 

“Stupid fucking door,” you mumbled as you shut it again, this time being more gentle and pushing it slowly into the frame. When it finally shut, you sighed and walked back to the bed. You’d left the suitcase over the sheets, and that’s when you spotted the keychain Effie had given you. You looked at it and whispered “Green.” Suddenly the sand inside the small hourglass changed into green. Effie would know you were alright with that.

The room was old and worn, but it didn’t look dirty. You let yourself fall on the bedsheets and winced when your hand touched the mattress. You pulled your hand up, looking at it and trying to move it while you frowned. It hurt, it hurt like a bitch, and you still couldn’t compare it to how much more it had hurt to leave Sirius. 

I’m going to need a potion for this, you thought as you pushed the suitcase off the bed and accommodated yourself. It might have gotten a dent but frankly, you didn’t care. You let your hand fall again and groaned when it hurt just the same as before. There was a big window that allowed the waning afternoon light inside. You didn’t want to think, so you pulled Nina’s wand and pointed towards them. Surely you could perform a simple spell with it…

Instead, the chair next to the window flew towards you and smashed onto the bed pole. You sat on the bed and looked at the shreds with shock, instantly leaving Nina’s wand on the side, so fast it was as if it had burned you. You threw yourself back in the bed and sighed.

“I will also need another wand,” you said as you stared at the intricate details of the bed’s canopy. You stayed like that, thinking– or rather, just staring mindlessly at the squares and circles, and at the shadows cast by the low light that still came from the window. You must have dozed at some point, since the next thing you knew, it was dark. The shadows had grown so much that they were enveloping you almost entirely. You sighed, the temperature had diminished severely. 

For all you cared, you would have fallen asleep and gotten swallowed by the cold. But you had almost frozen to dеath a little while ago and something told you that it would be a terrible idea not to, at least, turn on the fire to warm the room. You had felt what freezing was like, the violent shivering that left you sore and aching the following day, you were not eager to feel like that again. 

The boys slept without any heating most of the time, and it didn’t bother you at all since you had always had them to warm you through the night. But today you’d be alone, and you’d be alone until you got back to school, so catching a cold for being too careless and indolent to turn on the fire was not an option. 

You considered taking Nina’s wand and using that to light up the fireplace, but you remembered what had happened with the chair, the shreds of it still all over the floor, and you decided you didn’t want to risk burning the entire place down. The last thing you needed was people realising you were in two places with a fire –in which you would have actually been the cause of both– and deeming you an arsonist. 

You sighed before leaning up, and wincing when you realised your hand had not gotten much better during the snooze you’d had. When you finally got up the bed you realised you had a bit of a runny nose –probably from the cold– and sniffed before getting to the bathroom and blowing your nose quickly. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a second. You looked terribly doleful, unhappy. You washed your teeth before walking back into the room and sitting on the wooden floor next to the fireplace. 

They had some kind of warming charm on them since they didn’t feel nearly as cold as they should have and then you spent at least a quarter of an hour trying to turn the fire on with wandless magic. You had never tried Incendio wandlessly before, and it had been bIoody hard. When eventually you did manage to get the flame going, you threw some old newspaper to liven it up, sighed and leaned in a little closer. 

It’s not nearly as warm as they are, you thought bitterly. But they might be warming each other now, as they should be. You didn’t want to be away from the warmth of the flames, so rather than moving back to the bed, you stayed crouched next to them and dug your head inside the jumper. It was Remus’ but Sirius had pinched it and it smelled so much like him, like the two of them, that you started to cry.

Thick hot tears streamed down your cheeks and dampened the sinfully soft fabric of the jumper. Your lips were dry and tasted like salt, and you cried, and cried, over everything that had happened so far. This time you knew there would be no one to bother you, that nobody would find you crying and that no one would ask if you were alright. In a way, you were glad that you didn’t have to hold back your tears anymore. No more fear of being found crying, of being thought of as weak, even if every tear you shed was more than justified. 

But there was still that selfish part of you that dared to wish you weren’t alone, that dared hope that you hadn’t left, that you had continued pretending you didn’t know and that you were cuddling with Sirius and Remus, rather than sitting by yourself in the middle of a small inn. 

Eventually, in your reluctance to move away from the flames, you decided to sleep there, and you turned into Vixen, but you took off Remus’ jumper off first and once you were a fox, you used your snout to find the bottom hem and slip inside of it, limping a little as you did. It was warm, and it smelled delightful. If you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you weren’t in a lonely inn, but rather curled up in one of James’ soft beds, right on top of Remus’ chest, and with Padfoot’s snout pushing you as he too tried to get some chest space to rest his head on.

Perhaps once the boys sorted what they had to sort out, you could go back to cuddling them, maybe you could use the next full moon as an excuse. Once they were settled into their own relationship, and once things with Sirius went back to normal –or as normal as they could possibly be after what had happened.

When you woke up, it was because of a small, knocking on the glass. You were not on the first floor, so you shook your head, stirring inside Remus’ sweater before limping outside of it and peering at the room. The fire had almost gone out, but you were still warm, and the thing you’d heard on the window was nothing other than Reese, tapping his beak against the glass.

You turned back into yourself and stretched as you walked towards the window, unlocking the small hook at the top and pushing it open for Reese to come inside, your hand hurt as you did, so you had to manoeuvre it with only one of them. “Hey little one,” you said softly, you then realised he had something tied to his feet. 

You hesitated before untying and unrolling the small piece of parchment. 

He was flying frantically while looking for you today, he thought you’d abandoned him. Where the hell did you go off to, Vix? I know it has to do with Sirius, he looked upset, and he was whispering about with Remus all night too.  He might be my brother but if he did something to you, I’ll punch him for it. Mum told everyone you were feeling sick and that that was the reason you left early. Sirius and Remus seemed confused at it, but they don’t know Mum like I do, I knew she knew something. I went straight to her and asked her. She said it wasn’t her place to tell me what had happened and that I should ask you myself.  Problem was, I obviously had no fucking idea where you’d gone to. She didn’t want to tell me, but I can be very convincing you know that already. Don’t worry, I haven’t told Sirius and Remus, if they don’t tell me what’s going on, well then I won’t tell them the information I’ve gathered by myself. I assumed Reese would be able to find you, wherever in Diagon you had gone off to and decided to send my little note through him.  I know you’ve been upset lately. You should come back, I can send Sirius away with Remus if you want, I think it’s a bad idea for you to be alone now. Especially with everything that’s going on, but at the end of the day, it's your choice. You better fucking write me every day though, I’m worried sick. You are also like a sister to me. You know that, right? Anyway, I expect to hear from you today, or I might just go to Diagon and drag you back myself, don’t test my patience. Love, Prongs

Sirius and Remus were whispering about all night, that was good, that was great, it meant they were talking. It meant they would be together and then, once Sirius forgot about his infatuation with you –as if he could ever– he and Remus could be happy and you’d be able to talk to them both again, and things would be all right. 

You really did believe that to be a possibility, or at least you were desperate to believe in it, you couldn’t see the alternatives, let alone the answer that the entire world had been screaming at you. In the whispers of the mermaids kissing each other, in the loud teasing voices of the ghosts, in the eyes of the old hag that read you your destiny but that you were too obdurate to actually listen to. You looked through the drawers of the old room and found some parchment and a quill. You quickly scribbled something for Prongs. You had to write with your non-writing hand and the letters came askew, but you couldn’t exactly use a spell to fix them, so you tried your best to at least make it readable. 

I’m all right. Don’t worry about me. Sirius did nothing, it was me. I’m sorry if I ruined our trip, I was having lots of fun but it had to be done. I’ll send you notes every day, but it can’t be through Reese, or they’ll figure it out. 

You bit your lip thinking of a solution to the problem when you remembered the keychain that Effie had given you. Protean charm, you thought. That was the answer. But there was no way in hell you managed to perform a charm of the sort without your wand, let alone with Nina’s wand that seemed to refuse to work with you, so you’d have to buy something.

I have a plan, I’ll get us a way of communicating by the end of the night. I’ll send Reese to your rooftop, he’ll hide behind the chimney.  Thank you for caring, Prongs. I also think of you as a brother.  Love, Vix

You wrapped the small note on Reese’s feet, cursing as a jolt of pain hit your entire arm for forcing your wrist and sent him off, promising to get him something to eat by the time you came back with a new wand and something to charm.

Sail away sweet sister My heart is always with you No matter what you do I'll always be in love with you

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader  @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow  @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @simpkingollie @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer @mothraantics @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld @pastelorangeskies @barking4you @profoundpidgeon

Leave a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

A/N: I questioned myself for making them suffer so much while revising this chapter. Some of Sirius' words are just heart wrenching to me, I swear <3

Read more Marauders Fiction

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of The Star Beast - Part Eight

Excerpts from Benjamin Cook's Star Beast Set Visit - discussing the Camden night shoots:

Is nobody here having a bad time?? WHAT'S WRONG WITH THEM? "I had a little lull earlier," admits David, "at 2AM when we were waiting to turn over- I definitely yawned, maybe twice - but then the blood starts pumping again." Wrap isn't till 3AM. David lives across town. Isn't he worried he'll wake up his family when he gets in? "Listen, the kids are at Davison's," he says (this is Fifth Doctor actor Peter Davison, who happens to be David's father-in-law), "so I'm full of beans. Oh, and sugar. Do you want some?" He's bought a churro from a market stall that's stayed open because it's very much in shot. "You can have more than that." He breaks me off a bigger piece. "The sugar rush will do you good." He offers the director [ Rachel Talalay ] some too: "Go on, Rachel, you deserve it." "Are you doing OK?" she asks him. "Yeah! Sugar! I'll move on to the Yorkie bars next. I give not a fudge at this time in the morning." He claps his hands, dusting off the sugar from his churro. "But are you OK?" "I am at this moment," she says, waving to some fans. "Tomorrow at 4:30AM I might not be. Ask me again then." "You do get a lot of love from the fans, don't you?" says David. "In a tiny way, which is just lovely. I mean, I'm not you," she says, with a laugh. "I love hearing them scream for you. But I'm not used to any of this. And… I think it's stopped raining." "OK, here we go," says Scott. "Let's go for one. Stand by then, folks…" They go for another take. And another. When I catch up with Rachel later – much later, it’s October 2023, and she’s chatting over Zoom from her home in Vancouver – we’re five weeks away from The Star Beast airing on TV. “I didn’t know quite how well the episode was working,” she says, “till my family watched an almost-finished cut. I came downstairs, and my two girls were crying. It was like, oh, OK, this does work! And on a much, much deeper level too. To have them go, ‘We knew it would be full of joy’ – which I think it is – ‘but we didn’t expect it to be so emotional,’ that was very satisfying. It was an emotional time all round.” It was. In more ways than one. Which is something that Rachel wants to talk about – here in DWM – for the first time publicly. “I think I can now,” she says, “because I’m close to two years in remission. I will be this month. Two years in remission. And Doctor Who really helped heal me. Directing Doctor Who while I was only a couple of months post-chemo.” A deep breath. “I had lymphoma,” she explains. “I’d been in chemo for seven or eight months. I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive. Then I was offered The Star Beast. I thought, I’ve got to do this. I didn’t tell anybody I was sick. I hadn’t told anybody except very close family. And I didn’t tell anyone on Doctor Who till I was there long enough to say, ‘Look, I’m well enough, so I don’t want you worried about me.’ Because, frankly, I don’t know that they’d have wanted to hire someone who might not have made it through the shoot. I totally get that. That’s fair enough. [...] “I could not have been surrounded by a more supportive crew,” says Rachel. “The best crew in the world. When I realised, it’s all night shoots, I thought, oh god, and I’m two months post-chemo. But that crew – David especially – made those night shoots so fun. It’s weird now, because I look back at the pictures – like that lovely one of me and David you published last issue – and that was my chemo hair. I was just getting my hair back. But I got healthier and healthier, stronger and stronger, as the shoot went on. When I got back to Canada, the doctor said, ‘You’re a poster child for how well someone can do after chemo. This is what people are capable of.’ “But it’s just what you do,” she reflects, “isn’t it? – when you love Doctor Who in your heart so much. There was no better place for me than Doctor Who.”

Additional parts of this set are in the #whoBtsBeast tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

[starry--blossom]

Alright, the special.

The special was SO FUCKING GOOD I'm crying inside because there's SOOOO much to talk about with the kyman moments I am THRIVING right now- ahem sorry got too hyper there ^^'

First of all, the fact that everytime Cartman had a skinny dream Kyle was always at the front of it one way or another, this boy is obsessed with him it's insane that he was in his dream twice and he went to him first at the end after the declaration THAT KYLE MADE.

Second, Kyle was making the conscious decision to help him make his dream real and was initiating almost ALL of the physical contact with Cartman which he would NEVER do and never HAS done until now.

Then Kyle filling out all the medical records and going through all the loops despite not really getting anywhere with Cartman watching him REALLY reminded me of the crack baby episode where he was doing all the legal shit and I am honestly living for it, plus not to mention that Kyle was getting pissed off FOR Cartman's sake because they kept being denied. So good.

BUT THEN it gets to when Kyle and the boys stay in the cycle of make the drug - drug gets taken - order more powder - repeat and Cartman was giving up, Kyle kept giving him the pep talks because Kyle knows that Cartman's never one to give up on anything so seeing him actively losing his will was weird for him to see and he wasn't allowing that, nuh uh. Even going as far as ordering a supply that wasn't their usual after the Indian factory got attacked.

Also when they had the yelling match shaking each other back and forth, those last words from Kyle were so fucking passionate and genuine are you kidding meeeeeee. AND THEY WERE INCHES AWAY FROM EACHOTHER THEY LITERALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT PERSONAL SPACE IS- oh yeah and Cartman was literally staring at Kyle's lips.

And the chase scene... WHERE DO I BEGIN?? Kyle was literally SHOOTING PEOPLE'S MOTHERS so he could successfully make the drug for Cartman (and everyone else) because he didn't want Cartman's hope to run out again THAT IS SOME GAY SHIT RIGHT THERE. He was so determined to make Cartman's wishes come true he didn't care what he had to do to make it happen.

And I have no idea if anyone else even caught this but Cartman pronounces Kyle's name CORRECTLY. THREE TIMES! This just proves my theory I had ALL the way back since Imaginationland that Cartman says his name correctly when he's actually being genuine aghhh bye I'm losing my fucking mind I was literally GIGGLING after watching this special the first time around.

Matt and Trey KNOW what they're doing with every subtle action, whether it's eye placement, name pronunciation ect and those of you who are going to turn around and say that Kyle doesn't give a shit about Cartman and how he is then RESPECTFULLY you are living under a fucking rock because this whole thing is just... Kyle being concerned about him and wanting him to achieve what he wants for himself like a caring friend should and I am so glad this was finally brought to light and shoved into everyone's faces ❤💚

[roseboysstuff]

idk how to do requests its my first time doing this but could you do Shiro from voltron legendary defender x ftm reader?

Spoilers if ya havent watched it!!

Ok so like yk where that one episode Shiro disappeared and came back after a year and he just immediately went to reader and just fucks him.... soft dom Shiro brainrot... can be a mix of fluff and smut also u can do this req anytime u want no pressure (i have bad memory so i'll eventually forget this LMAO and i lovelovelove how u write i THRIVE with it)

You don't have to worry about spoiling the series to me, I've watched it all over and over Little note about the show : I actually enjoyed it all, even season 8. The only think I don't like is allura x lance, and that Lotor was a bad guy. Allura and lotor should have got together, and lance and keith should have got together. I would also accept keith and shiro.

And thanks for the compliment! I'm glad you like how I write honestly most of it is word vomit so I'm glad others like it too

He had been through hell. Being kidnapped by the Galra had made him mentally exhausted. But most of all. He had missed you.

You. You were his everything. The thought of you had gotten him through his imprisonment. He had almost given in plenty of times. But the memory of your smile, the way you would say his name, and the idea of one day seeing you again, it all kept him going.

And when he managed to escape? All he could think about was you. The ride back to earth in that escape pod was harsh, and he was drifting in and out of consciousness. But he could have sworn he whispered your name throughout the whole trip.

When Keith and the gang rescued him, he begged them to take him back to you. Which they happily obliged.

The reunion was tearful, and he whispered your name over and over like a prayer, holding you tightly until you were just both crying on the floor, embraced.

"I missed you. So much. I'm here, sweetheart, I'm alive. I'm with you."

He kept apologising, and you almost couldn't believe it was real. Takashi Shirogane, your Shiro, was back. You'd been led to believe he was dead. All of the military and all your friends had told you to give up. You'd grieved and cried for months.

And now he was back. You didn't blame him, of course, and so you shut up his apologies with a kiss. You were desperate to feel his lips on yours again, to feel his warmth, to confirm that he was really alive and here with you. He eagerly reciprocated the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled away, about to apologise for the coldness of his new arm, but you just kissed him again.

It was cold, yes, but you didn't care. You wanted your arms around you, no matter what they were made of.

It didn't take long until you were heavily making out, drinking in the taste of each other. He held the back of your head with one hand, with the other sliding down to grasp at your hip. He was unwilling to let go. Neither were you.

He barely managed to pull away enough to pick you up and carry you to the bed, pulling you onto his lap. And it was straight back to kissing again, tearing off each other's clothes, lost in a hazy fog of need, want, love and lust.

There was no need for more foreplay than this. You were completely soaked, and he was hard as a rock. You were ready. Ready to feel his big cock stretching you out. Which it did.

Before he was kidnapped, you were a little more accomodating, considering you were used to taking his cock. But this time, as you sank down, you could feel every vein on his cock, as it stretched you out for the first time in nearly a year.

"Gods... you're so tight, baby boy. Am i hurting you? If I am, we can stop and-"

Well you were having none of that. You sank yourself fully down on his cock, causing you to whimper and him to throw his head back in pleasure, a chesty moan leaving his throat.

"Oh, wow. You're just as voracious as I remember. That's my good little prince, bounce on my cock. Please, baby boy."

How could you refuse such a humble request? Your hips instantly got moving, bouncing and grinding and gyrating. No particular rhythmn, just the desperate need to be together as one. And it was heaven. For both of you.

He was seeing the person who had gotten him through the worst times of his life, bouncing and moaning on his cock. Seeing your hair bounce, your eyes shut, and your mouth wide in a silent O shape. It only fueled his lust, and he started to thrust back.

The rhythmn of your bodies meeting only got less steady as you both got close, and you found yourself clutching onto him for dear life. He was doing the same. Your bodies were impossibly close, not even an atom of space between you, as you both climaxed, crying out the other's name. His hot seed filled your cunt up, and your cunt in turn clenched and milked his cock. it was ecstacy.

As you came down from your orgasms, neither of you let go. How could you? You had both spent the past year begging the universe to give you one more chance, you weren't going to let go.

He kissed your neck and face, a big grin on his face.

"I missed you, missed this. Oh, baby boy, you have no idea."

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Last, Last Time (alternate ending)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~8.2k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupiter.

hey guys! some people had asked me about a happy ending version of this, and I've never really written an alternate ending before, I was struggling with whether I wanted this to be good angst or not, so having been swayed....here is the alternate ending!

Original Spencer Masterlist

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.” 

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart. 

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.” 

“Wait for the potential of us?” 

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.” 

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.” 

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face. 

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home and no note…” 

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…” 

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved. 

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough. 

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.” 

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home. 

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..” 

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild week trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him. 

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty. 

And it stuck. 

Now? It stung. 

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms. 

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll.” 

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face. 

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time. 

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you. 

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and trying to decided whether your life had gotten better because of it.

You still weren’t sure.  

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you. 

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years. 

Did you make the right choice?

Something was missing. It was missing from the spot on the couch. It was missing in the mug cabinet. It was missing in the kitchen while you played music and moved around by yourself. 

But you were happy. You have been able to throw yourself into your job, and open your own firm. You had your dream career, with some of the most amazing friends you could have asked for. 

None of which you would have met if you stayed with him. 

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both.

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off. 

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years. 

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone. 

Emily Prentiss

__________________________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.” 

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. . 

Spencer just stared at the photo. 

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was about to be.“Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.  I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Something was deeply wrong from them to have to send you a call. 

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.” 

Emily hummed a brief laughter, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything. 

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?” 

“What?” 

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and drive to the BAU.” 

“Uh, yeah Em. I’m so sorry, I, uh, I completely forgot about our plans today. Let me get ready, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Are we still meeting at your place or did you have a different location in the city?” 

“We’ll be at Quantico.” 

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now. 

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life. 

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter. 

Today was already stressful enough, what was the point of adding a bra. 

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely. 

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty since you knew how to drive above the speed limit. 

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night. 

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car. 

Both of them have such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared.

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.” 

“Well Em, next time I break up with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed her back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort. 

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?” 

You nodded and the three of you moved inside. 

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way to the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this kinda felt like. 

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you. 

“What do you know about Cat Adams?” 

That bitch. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.” 

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.” 

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.” 

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was. 

“Don’t start with me today Emily. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try to trick me into giving the answers you want. Don’t profile me.” 

Part of being engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their own quirks. Which meant you saw Alvez bite his tongue and try to hide his smile. And you noticed that Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better but it was still there.

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file. 

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh. 

“What is the last thing you know about her?” 

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later. 

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces. 

“What happened?” 

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove all the way from DC to Quantico on the phone, I deserve to know what happened.” 

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–” 

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.” 

Both of them went silent. 

“So is he out?” 

They nodded slowly, silently. 

“How long was he in there?”

Nothing. 

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.” 

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down. 

Why didn’t Spencer call you?

Well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you. 

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here—He didn’t start….did he?” 

Emily shook her head. “He’s actually been really good about it.” She said softly, trying to calm you down. 

You started fidgeting with your rign finger; a habit you have picked up many years ago, and have yet to lose, even if the ring wasn’t there anymore. 

“Cat’s execution is coming up.” Emily started, trying to get you back on track. “And we….we found out that she’s convinced one of her former cellmates to kidnap...people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.” 

“She already ruined that relationship years ago, she won that one. Why would she bring me back into it?” You sat down and looked down at the file on the table. You had never really seen a photo of her before, doing your best to avoid all of the media surrounding her arrest. 

She was very pretty, that much was certain. 

Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her. 

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile. 

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind. 

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily very casually put a hand on your knee under the table. 

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” 

Your head turned as you looked over to Emilt, bewildered by this woman and her, well, bewilderment. 

JJ walked over and sat down on the other side of you. “Uh, Max, this is Unit Cheif Emily Prentiss and SSA Luke Alvez.” She pursed her lips before looking over at you. “And this is another one of the victims affected by Cat Adams, Y/n Y/l/n.” 

Max had crossed her arms and nodded. “Victims?” 

You quickly onced her over, a slightly unimpressed look crossing your features. “People close to Spencer get fucked over a lot.” This came out with a sigh attached to it. 

Max almost scoffed, but you watched as she nodded. “And how do you know Spencer?” 

Your eyes met with Emily’s really quickly. 

Emily looked over at Max. “She’s…”

“I’m Spencer’s ex-fiancé.”

It felt better to let this poor girl know, but somehow saying the words out loud left the most rotten taste in your mouth. 

Watching Max’s defenses go up in real time was a little sobering.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room. 

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.” 

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.” 

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s…It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.” 

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer. 

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid. 

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture. 

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?” 

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else?” 

______________________________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you swore you left for the last time. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved out, but there was less of it. 

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you were half of them, and had taken the rest. 

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong. 

Max was just sitting on the couch in your spot. She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter. 

She had, understandably, decided she was not your biggest fan.

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would hurt Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?” 

“She took your father and sister.” 

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just placed a hand on your phone and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.” 

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear. JJ, who was on the couch, talking to Max, looked like she was trying to block out whatever conversation was happening in the kitchen. 

“So why is she here?” You whispered back. 

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger, and it’s better for us if we have eyes on both of you” 

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.” 

Rossi nodded, and placed your phone on the counter, and you walked into the kitchen,eyes closed from the stress of the situation. 

The apartment went silent, watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet. 

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent. 

The pity from JJ and Rossi was palpable. 

The disbelief from Max was a boulder on you back, like Atlas transferring the world to your shoulders. 

“Don’t even start.” You muttered, moving to sit down back next to Rossi on the kitchen stools. 

He shrugged and stayed silent. 

That is, until JJ’s walkie went off and she looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.” 

Rossi looked over at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.” 

You nodded and gave both agents a strained smile as they left the apartment, taking Max with them, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home.

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch. 

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. ��He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. Plus, Y/n is not that hard to find—she’s a prominent public attorney in DC. That means Juliette must’ve had access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.” 

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.” 

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.” 

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?” 

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office. 

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily. 

Emily sighed in agreement. 

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition. Y/n really shouldn’t be in there.” 

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.” 

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ. 

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.” 

______________________________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open. 

And there he was. 

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years. 

And there he was, kissing Catherine Adams. 

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship. 

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed. 

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit. 

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever even thought about it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine. 

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who you thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger. 

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?” Spencer’s voice cracked.

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face. 

Remember what Prentiss had said to you. 

“You know why I’m here.” 

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them. 

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back. 

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off. 

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?” 

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser. 

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue. 

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.” 

You sat down in your spot on the couch, eyes closed, trying not to let Cat (or Spencer) see how truly upset you were starting to feel.  

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face. 

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, more disdain on her face than before. 

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.” 

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“Without you.” Cat snapped at him. “Besides, I’m not talking to you Spencie, I'm talking to her.”

She turned to face you. “Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.” 

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud. 

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?” 

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.” 

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?” 

“No.” You locked eyes with Cat, almost challenging her. 

She seemed to enjoy it.

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.” 

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?” 

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.” 

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her.  “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch. 

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to Spencer, poor Spencer who has spent the entire day entertaining her.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed. 

“Cat..”

“Do it.” She hissed, eyeswide with hints of threate.

Reid turned and looked at you, his mouth dry and body stiff. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurt. “And you threw her against a wall?” 

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore it was harder to not deck her in the face. 

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.” 

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.” 

Youre eyes went wide. “What?”

They just continued to argue over you.

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.” 

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head. 

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.” 

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where. 

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.” 

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you. 

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?” 

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. You couldn’t believe Spencer had told her that. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you. 

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?” 

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.” 

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?” 

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.” 

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.” 

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago, unable to look at Spencer. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?” 

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here. Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”. 

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for about two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?” 

“Last year.” 

“Was he good in bed?” 

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.” 

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response was "I'm sorry, Mike." A fucking defense attorney apologizing to someone when they got hit. That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow. 

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?” 

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess. I never missed a day of work.”  

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?” 

“ I…”

“Tell me.”

“I planned. I planned and then I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “But I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear, but because I-I know some people…it was sooner.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send. 

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.” 

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.” 

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” . 

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.” 

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.” 

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.” 

Emily took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer. 

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.” 

______________________________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up. 

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” 

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize innocent people. You could've just written a letter.” 

“Would you have written me back?” 

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer. 

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison. 

______________________________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke.  “We need to debrief.” 

“I need some time Emily.” He muttered, walking right past her and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in. 

“Spencer, are you okay?” 

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug. 

He stiffly smiled at her, and returned the hug before muttering that he would be back in a moment.

Watching Spencer hug her and whisper something in her ear, make your stomach lurch, and you had to turn away. 

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached. 

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away. 

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other. 

“I should explain all of this.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.” 

You cut him off. “Spencer, please.” 

The two of you moved out and voer into the kitchen, providing a bit more privacy than before. “It was fake—most of it was fake. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.” 

He just nodded, staring at you, eyes cloudier than a storm crossing an ocean. 

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, but your hand stayed where it was. 

“Mike Davis is alive, and I don’t really know about well. But he…we dated for about two years and he did…he raised a fist one time but never actually…he never hit me. I threw him out that night. I’m okay.”

Spencer lets out a breath slowly, just trying to take in everything you were saying. 

Spencer watched as what little resolve you had left crumbled under his gaze, and you looked up, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

He gently wrapped his arms around you, and helf you tightly, like all those years ago. “I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.” His words melted into your skin as you wrapped your arms around him. 

After a minute of standing like this, the two of you broke apart, and one of his hands came up to your cheek, wiping away a single tear that was left. 

You took a step back, the irony of this mirror image not lost on you, and you guestered back into the bullpen. “You have…You have to talk to Max.” 

Spencer’s face dropped a little at the mention of her name and he shook his head. “I’ll…I’ll deal with her in a second. She wasn’t the one who had to face a woman who completely….”

“Changed and fucked up what I thought my life would be. Yeah, I know. But she also cares about you.” You laughed a bit, putting back together a resolve that was nonexistent. 

“Spence, They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.” 

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger. You could read him like you read one of your favorite books, knowing which emotion was coming up next. 

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.” You gave him a small smile, trying to make light of something. 

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.” 

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…” 

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I didn’t know that..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of us…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation. 

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to interrupt darlings, but I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief. 

You looked over at Garcia. “Thank you Pen.” 

Taking another small step back from Spencer, even though every single neuron in your brain was firing off, telling you what you were doing was wrong. “I should, I should grab my stuff, and go back. Penelope?” 

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was. 

Spencer flexed his hand, almost as if he wanted to grab yours and never let go, but he just walked over to Max. 

You started to collect your things, but got sidetracked by a conversation with Rossi. 

You missed the small conversation that Spencer had with Max. You missed the way they hugged, and the way that the two of them walked out of the bullpen and to the elevator. You missed as they disappeared for a few minutes. 

“Rossi, I promise to do better about keeping in touch. I swear.” 

“I don’t just invite anyone over for dinner, you know. It’s an exclusive invitation.” 

You smiled, almost all real. “Trust me. I know. Besides… the phone is a two way device, so you have to text me first sometimes too.” 

You looked over for Spencer, the smile on your face shifting ever so slightly into one of sadness when he wasn’t around. And no one would have noticed, if not for the fact that you were in a room full of profilers. 

“Well everyone, I…this was lovely. We’ll have to do this whole ‘getting my family kidnapped’ again some time.” 

This remark caused a few laughs and some smiles, as you said your goodbyes, and Emily walked over to the elevator. 

She was about to say something, but the doors opened and revealed Spencer. He seemed like a weight had been taken off his shoulders and you smiled at him.

Emily excused herself, giving your shoulder a squeeze, and leaving the two of you alone. 

“Let me walk you out.”

You nodded, and entered the elevator.

The two of you stood in silence until you reached the parking lot.

You both stepped out, and looked over at your car, before looking back at one another. 

It was Spencer who spoke first. 

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—” 

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you. You just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 

Part of being a lawyer meant that acting and diffusing situations was part of your life, but sometimes, it was just a defense mechanism. It was exhausting. 

“Are you okay?” 

Spencer looked at your face, pulling away slightly. You were worried about him. 

He went to nod, but decided to shake his head no. “Today was…I’m so sorry she…” 

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately she just…” You whispered. You tried so hard to find the right words. 

After another moment in his arms, you took a step back and shook your head. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/n…”

“Spence you have a girlfriend.” 

“Y/n.”

“And I…I don’t know if I could put myself back to where I was four years ago.”

“Jolie.” 

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.” 

“We won’t.” 

“You can’t promise something like that.”

“I can. I will.”

You shook your head. “Max…”

“We broke up.”

Spencer gently grabbed your face, giving you enough time to back out.

You didn’t. 

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you. 

Catharsis didn’t even begin to describe the feeling of the ache in your bones subsiding. Every single moment of stress, of doubt, just melted away and left you grabbing a hold of Spencer’s shirt and pulling him impossibly closer. 

It was going to be different. Everything was not the same. You both had grown, you had changed, and for the better. But eventually, you were always supposed to find your way back to this moment, with yourself in Spencer’s arms and your lips on his lips. 

It was solidified when a few months later, Spencer left the BAU to become a full time professor in DC, and moved into your apartment, abandoning the one where Cat had ruined your life not once, but twice. 

It solidified as the two of you made time for one another, constantly finding new cities around the world to explore. 

It solidified forever when he placed a ring on your finger and whispered I do in front of your friends and family.

It was always meant to be, and sometimes, the path to forever, is everchanging. 

But at least you were able to do it with Spencer Reid by your side. 

[honeycreammilkshake]

Soooooo I've read your post about your ships AND I started shipping Togachako even though I've never seen My Hero Academia LMAO

Anyways, any thoughts about the last episode? i had 0 context about anything but Ochako saying "the cutest girl in the whole world" made my cry😭

my first ask about togachako! thank you so much, anon <3

i am not going to lie. i almost screamed out loud while watching this. i had read the manga ending previously but seeing it on screen really almost wrecked me.

love stories are fun... until the love story is one of you dies saving the life of the only one who fully understood you and loved you for who you really were.

i think the biggest reason why togachako is my favorite bnha ship is because of the parallels between ochaco and toga, especially in how they perceive and express their love.

toga had previously assumed that the only person who could truly love her would have to be pretty much the same as her. this came from her own experience with her parents and everyone around her, who saw her only as a monster and tried to repress her inner feelings and thoughts, which made her all the more bloodthirsty after such a long time of being literally and metaphorically starved.

she was treated as an unredeemable demon that couldn't be loved by anyone "normal."

this belief of hers that love can only come from someone like herself also correlates with her quirk, as she often tries to drink the blood of and "become one" with those she likes or wants to be closer to, similar to how she drained her first crush of all his blood as both a kind of love confession and as the emergence of her true self.

throughout the series you can see this kind of behavior of hers to try and relate to other people in order to rationalize her feelings for them. when she first fought with ochaco and tsuyu, for example, she told ochaco that they had the same scent, that they both admired deku, and that they were both trying to emulate the person of their affections. and during their fight in season 6, toga says to ochaco "i want to be like you. you're cute too, ochaco. i like you a lot."

the way toga is always comparing herself to ochaco, drawing similarities between them and openly admitting to wanting to be more like her, is the only kind of love confession she can make because she feels that someone who isn't like her couldn't possibly like her.

compare this to how ochaco sees and interprets love.

ochaco's parents loved and supported her even though they weren't very wealthy themselves, which inspired her to become a hero so she could help people like them. she was also inspired by deku, and her admiration of him led to her wanting to emulate him, something toga picked up on and related to.

it's clear that toga wants to find something to relate to in ochaco, and even though ochaco is quite different from toga, there are still many parallels between them, too.

for example, they both hid parts of themselves from other people, ochaco by denying she had feelings for deku and toga by being forced to conceal her true self all her childhood. toga wanted to connect with ochaco over this, but ochaco refused to identify with ochaco at all.

another thing i want to bring up is the symbolism of toga's smile.

when she's confronted by chitose, she's forced to reflect on how society has shunned and tried to reconfirm her, but instead of feeling miserable about it, toga instead says she is happy because she finally has a clear goal in mind: to get closer to someone she loves.

she then uses the blood she has left to turn into ochaco, which chitose believes is only so toga can die while looking cute, but toga realizes in that moment that she wants to be close to someone like how toga is close to deku.

she wants to be just like ochaco.

in short, drinking ochaco's blood returned toga's will to live, as she was able to find what she wanted in life and even uncover a new side to her powers she didn't realize she had before. she even says that living as someone like ochaco, a cute high school girl that others enjoy the company of and that life treats "easier" is the goal she wants to achieve.

by briefly experiencing what life was like for ochaco, someone who could be close to the person she loved and even get them to trust her (something toga was denied over and over in her childhood), toga realizes that she wants to be more like ochaco. in fact, she might even love ochaco.

and the way this scene was animated is just amazing.

i love the way half of ochaco's face and half of toga's face are merged together, while she gives her widest unhinged grin.

as toga said, she smiles when she's happy, and being close to someone she loves creates that feeling in her. that's what she wants in life: to love and be loved for who she truly is, to feel that deep closeness with someone. and reflecting back on her relationship with both deku and ochaco made her want to live her life, despite the pain she'd experienced before, so that she could live as she wanted to, love someone who loved her for herself. someone who accepted her normality.

and although ochaco initially rejected toga's attempts to connect with her, making toga feel like ochaco would be just another hero who would kill toga without regret, it makes it even more interesting and beautiful when ochaco reconsiders and chooses to reach out and connect with toga, despite everything.

ochaco is someone who wants to save people, who knows what pure love feels like and knows how to give it in turn. she was at first disturbed by toga's strong feelings and her teeth-bearing smiles, because to her those forms of expression went against her ideas about what love is and how people show it. but now ochaco admires toga's smile. she's even jealous of it, and at how toga so easily expresses her emotions and her love.

they were both jealous of each other. toga was jealous of ochaco for being able to have normal relationships that allowed her to get close to people, to be trusted by them, to feel cute and wanted. and ochaco was jealous of toga for being able to be so upfront and even headstrong about her feelings, to express her true self with such rawness and honesty.

and despite how toga was willing to kill ochaco, the other girl never uses her powers to harm toga.

though they both know zero gravity can be lethal and toga even used it to kill chitose and her army, ochaco is still unwilling to use it to harm her and is tender to toga throughout their entire confrontation.

this goes against everything toga feared and maybe even believed ochaco would do to her. ochaco is not willing to kill toga like the heroes killed jin, and though she won't forgive every terrible thing that toga has done, she is still willing to hear what toga has to say and to even comfort toga through it.

it's such an important detail to me that ochaco literally keeps toga tethered throughout this entire conversation. she's showing toga that it's not a matter of pity or ego that she's doing this, but she truly wants to hear toga's side of the story.

and despite how toga keeps trying to harm her, ochaco never flinches away and never stops listening.

if the manga was way too emotional already, the animated version of their last battle almost broke me, especially during this scene.

i can't get over how ochaco doesn't look away from toga the entire time. the fact that it's so important for her to let toga know she finds her smile beautiful means so much, both because of how toga wants to be found cute by someone and because toga smiles when she's happy, so ochaco is saying she values toga's happiness and that expression of her true self.

toga's smile is wide, unhinged, maybe even a little monstrous to anyone else. but to ochaco, it's wonderful. because toga is happy, free to express herself without holding back or donning anyone else's appearance to do so. her natural face, her natural personality, who she really is... that's what ochaco finds cute.

and it's so telling that when ochaco thinks about how she loves both deku and ochaco, her smile is more worried than happy. yet when ochaco confirms that toga is cute, the cutest girl in the whole world, toga's smile is pure and so wide.

ochaco made her happy, even at the very end. toga couldn't even imagine a world without ochaco in it being one worth living in, so she decided to give up her life to save ochaco's own. because ochaco's love is what gave toga happiness, and she knows that a world without happiness, without that person who makes her smile, would never feel the same.

they will forever be one of the most tragic love stories of all times, but also the cutest and sweetest... if only they'd had more time.

[kingdomoftyto]

I'm crying laughing, the DVDs are even worse than I remember... Season 1's menus are silent with a single static jpg of the same key character art they use for everything else, and the episodes on the Season 2 discs don't even match what's listed on the box! Absolutely stunning lack of shits given. Truly unparalleled. But I really shouldn't be surprised given... well... everything about how this series has been treated since the very beginning.

Time for a quick ~✨PHANDOM HISTORY LESSON✨~ to give newer/less hyperfixated folks more context for why the graphic novel being as great as it is is such a HUGE deal:

Danny Phantom was one of Nickelodeon's MAIN cartoons, in its time. It was a central pillar. One of the top three or four of their lineup, which is saying something when the competition includes the cultural juggernaut that is Spongebob.

Despite this, and despite its superhero theming making it perfectly marketable, it got basically ZERO official merch.

What little we did get was often ugly and very, very cheap. The dedication at the start of the graphic novel that jokes about collecting the Burger King toys? That's because it was some of the most notable merch the franchise EVER had. (I sadly do not have any of it. There was no BK in my hometown. Here's a pic from the internet, though, to give you an idea.)

If you think I'm exaggerating about that being the most significant physical merch to come out of the series, consider that the first video game had an entire menu option specifically for the Burger King promotional tie-in:

That video game, by the way, was one of only two ever based on the show. The first was an adaptation of "The Ultimate Enemy" in the style of a short sidescrolling beat-em-up, and the second was themed around "Urban Jungle" and (as far as I can tell--I've only played the first couple levels) was an arcade-style scrolling shooter. Both were for the Gameboy Advance, and both are...... fine, as far as cash-grabby video game tie-ins to kids' shows go. This was pretty normal for the time, so I suppose we did okay in that department, actually. They're not GOOD, but they're playable and have at least a bit of effort put into them.

But besides those two video games (plus a handful of simple, long-defunct Flash games on nick.com)? In the decade and a half since the show ended?

Nothing.

No books, no games, no comics, no web shorts--unless you count mega-crossovers with every other Nicktoon (a la Nicktoons Unite), or soulless promotional material like "Fairly Odd Phantom" (which, trust me, despite being the first new DP animation in over 10 years was not even worth the effort of watching).

...I think there was a limited edition FunkoPop once?

So yeah.

A Glitch in Time is not just the first cool, well-made thing we've seen from the franchise in a while. It's the first THING we've seen since the show. PERIOD. And arguably the first worthwhile supplementary material to EVER come out of the show, depending on how you feel about those GBA games and the Nicktoons crossovers.

This franchise is widely beloved even now, almost 20 years after it first aired, and it feels like that fact is now, finally, FINALLY getting some official recognition.

PLEASE read A Glitch in Time. Tell other people about it. The series--no, the fans--deserve this (and more of this, if the folks in charge see enough of a response and decide to grace us with any followup). It's LONG overdue, but better late than never.

[scoobydoodean]

hot take ig but… dean wanting to contain jack was not cruel or even a bad idea…

first, it was not just dean’s idea. sam agreed, and cas had basically the same idea, just using the cage instead. but for some reason everybody ignores this!! second, containing dangerous people is what they always do. sam and cas have done so to dean. the s5 finale was all about locking up a dangerous powerful being. and there are other examples! third, jack was the most powerful being in the universe and had no soul meaning no ability to discern right from wrong. he was killing people! and they’ve always seen soulless people as dangerous. dean was willing to let sam die via the process of returning his soul bc he saw that soulless sam was not sam. and sam agreed!

like. yes dean was not handling the situation well, let alone gently, so i understand why sam and cas were frustrated. but his mother had just been killed (and ftr i do think cas was being kind of insensitive about it), and jack was still killing other people. dean’s allowed to be angry. he was being outwardly meaner, but sam was agreeing with him (he said a part of him wanted jack dead!) up until the point that dean actually agreed to kill jack for chuck.

idk i just feel like people really exaggerate dean’s actions in this situation especially in comparison to what sam and cas were saying and/or doing too. so i’m just wondering what you think of all of this? do you think dean was “right” or was he overreacting? or do you think the audience is too hard on dean (as always :/) about this? could this be another version of samdela effect? cause i feel like people misremember what the others were saying/doing in order to put more on dean…

also omg i just realized how long this became, so so sorry for the long rant!! if you can respond, thank you!

*opens my coat* would you care for some memes?

I will take your hot take and flambé it. When it comes to this subject, I don't feel inclined to be patient with fandom or carefully lay anything out piece by piece. I'm sick and tired of hearing about what a betrayal it was to put Jack in the box and how mean and evil and abusive it was blah blah blah cry me a river. I was there watching when that episode aired and saw how stupid everyone was about that episode in real time and it was annoying then and it continues to be annoying that almost no one seems to bother putting a single granule of thought into this episode or what Sam and Dean were thinking or what the stakes actually were. And yeah—it was not just Dean who did that despite the samdela effect hard at work causing people to insist Dean somehow forced Sam to go along with him when that categorically did not happen.

People act like Jack was just standing there shitting rainbows and unicorns out of his ass and Dean turned around and strangled him to death for it. What happened was Soulless Jack killed Sam and Dean's mom and then went off and turned someone into a pillar of salt for being an atheist and filled someone else's body with worms to punish them for not wanting to be turned into an angel. Then he showed up at the bunker trying to make nice in the most hauntingly emotionless way possible—calling killing Mary an accident and then in his next breath saying he snapped and killed her because she threatened to reveal that the manner in which he killed Nick was scary and disturbed. In other words—he made it very clear to Mary's sons that murdering her was not actually a fucking accident at all even while he was calling it one.

Jack: I know -- I know things have been bad. A-And, if it helps, I regret it. The accident. Sam: The -- The accident? Jack: What happened to Mary. She kept talking about my soul, t-that I didn't have a soul, and she kept pushing. Dean: Oh, so she made you do it. Jack: No, it -- it was me, but I didn't want this no-soul thing to become an issue between us. I guess I snapped. Before I knew it, it was all over. Dean: "It" being the accident.

So Sam and Dean tricked him (the most powerful being in all creation) into getting in a box and he sat in there for 10 minutes. Oh no. How horrible.

A lot of the stupid fandom response to this is rooted in the babyfication of Jack that ran rampant within fandom at the time and continues in many circles. I happen to like Jack, and when I say that, I mean that I actually like him, and not the fanon adultbabydestiellovechild the fandom invented who has the emotional and mental capacity of a two year old and can't understand the difference between right and wrong. The real Jack did understand, and the real Jack would be (and was when he returned) horrified by what soulless Jack did (and for more than just how it would impact him). Jack was always an emotional person who struggled to control great power, but he had a strong moral compass and he loved people. That Jack would never have subjected someone to the twisted biblical punishments soulless Jack did for the crime of not believing in god or in him???? That Jack would have thrown Dumah into a wall in a rage for the mere suggestion he kill people over their beliefs and said, "You're hurting people". That Jack also would have wanted Sam and Dean to lock him up to protect others.

Some of the fandom problem with this also has to do the soulless lore as a whole and the constant usage of Donatello as the "soulless people can manage" poster child. Which ignores not only soulless Jack's actual behavior and how deeply dangerous his powers make him, but... pretty much every other soulless person we ever saw in the series, from soulless Sam, to numerous victims of Amara who turned into raging murderers in season 11 after she ate their souls. Hell though—the same people who insist soulless Jack was some poor little baby who just needed gentle parenting probably also think there was nothing wrong with soulless Sam despite the fact that he watched his brother be assaulted multiple times and seemed to actively enjoy it. Just normal Sam things, right? Donatello is the exceptional soulless person—not the rule—and it's because it isn't in his best interest to make trouble.

The idea that soulless Jack could be molded was suggested by Cas, but he also (as you pointed out) ended up inquiring about putting Jack in The Cage, instead of the Ma'lak box (and after the Ma'lak box was destroyed, so it wasn't an option anymore).

Lbr—the misogyny also jumped out in this string of episodes. Countless posts one after the other about how stupid Mary was and how it was all her fault and Jack did nothing wrong. How dare she make Jack angry. God forbid. What a stupid, frail, illogical woman. She deserved to die long before that anyway because she was a terrible mother, right? I mean it was obvious this sort of nonsense would come from the fandom in advance, given how many people had meltdowns over Dean shooting Jack in the back (something that didn't hurt Jack in the least) to get him to stop strangling a black store clerk to death in 13.23. As always, the imagined frail little fee fees of the white adult baby that fans invented must supersede other people's lives. Jack should be allowed to throw whatever tantrums he wants and kill anyone he wants during them and in response, Dean should shush him and start singing lullabies and carry him to a rocking chair to nurse.

[sass-ruby]

Okay so um, I'm gonna be talking about these two episodes today! (Prepare BECAUSE OH MY GOSH.)

Alright, we'll start with the first one. Can I just say that, moon absolutely angered me so much. Moon, NO ONE IS ASKING YOU FOR AN EMOTIONAL SPEECH NOR ANYTHING. It's the fact that you COMPLETELY ignored sun, didn't even bother to check up on him, and then went to work in your lab to find a solution?? Looks like history is repeating itself. But.. why? Why is the same thing repeating again? WELL I HAVE A THEORY! Sun's gonna die, someway, somehow and that's gonna be the only way moon realizes. I think this because of solar specifically. When solar heard that moon won't check up on sun, he sounded absolutely disgusted. Keep in mind, solar lived in HIS SUN'S head. That sun ALSO had a moon, and I bet solar has watched the same exact thing happen. And what happened when solar's sun died? Solar's moon went insane! Imagine the guilt moon would feel, gut wrenching. He probably ALREADY feels guilty, but would rather let it consume him whole than to comfort sun or AT THE VERY LEAST HUG HIM

Sun was there with moon during moon's (valid) breakdown, but moon being there for sun? NOOO, OF COURSE NOT!

Also if moon's gonna start with the "I'm not good with emotions" stuff, I'll lose it. YOU HAVE PROVEN IN OTHER VIDEOS THAT YOU CAN, MOON. Neptor's funeral, OR HELL WHEN THE WHOLE FINDING OUT DAZZLE'S SECRET THING HAPPENED. He listened about every kid, comforted, reassured, he was there. Although, now he's just ignoring sun. I think it's because he's a coward. And by a coward, I mean that he's too scared he'll say something wrong or make it worse, because the word is about NEXUS, someone who moon HATES, though sun loves nexus, evil or not, he was still his brother.

Moon doesn't understand that, he's jealous most likely. It reminds me so much of when nexus wasn't insane.. he was bad talking moon, and when moon returned? Moon was bad talking nexus. Both didn't want to be like each other, they DESPISE each other, calling each other knock off's (okay, THAT PART WAS KINDA FUNNY I'M SORRY.)

But.. where is sun in all of this? He missed each one. He loved each one. He loved them. He still loves them.

But they BOTH didn't understand how their words hurt sun. They're so similar in some ways, it's absurd. AND THEY DON'T EVEN REALIZE IT. Reminds me of the song "over and over" by Rio Romeo.

If sun dying is the only way for moon to realize, I'll be willing to accept it even if it is quite sad. It's disappointing, truly.

Monty's and lunar's reaction, I expected honestly. By the way, lunar-, "he's doing worse than I thought he would be.." ARE YOU STUPID, HE JUST KILLED HIS EX BROTHER?? Didn't you go through the same damn thing too? As for monty, not even surprised one bit. He's always been like that, I never really liked him, but oh well.

And THANK YOU SOLAR FOR BEING THE ONLY SANE PERSON EXCEPT MAYBE EARTH BECAUSE GOSH THIS SHOW AIN'T FOCUSING ON SUN'S HEALTH MUCH.

The urge to b*tch slap almost everyone.

I genuinely want sun to have a breakdown, he chose moon, but moon didn't bother to even check up on him.

Gosh.

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

ANYWAYS, TODAY'S EPISODE!

Just gonna add this picture again, because why not

Wow- genuinely just wow- that was-.. wow

So dark sun DID end up doing something. I must've missed something in the past video, but interesting..

I heard a person say, I forgot who it was but that SUN was the key of this whole plan

He killed nexus, he pulled the trigger and made a choice which means.. that way other suns also made choices instead of not acting

I have NO idea how sun managed to make that happen, BUT THE THEORY MAKES SENSE

In a way, I was right- he IS trying to stop the dimensional abuse of suns by them killing their own moon, I SUCK AT EXPLAINING

if anyone can explain this theory better than me, PLEASE DO.

I felt so bad for the sun in this dimension. Poor thing. Sounded scared and terrified, while repeating "I hate you", while crying and also while bashing HIS moon's head with a barrel

I wanted to hug him QwQ poor baby.. we need a name for him

ALSO HE'S MY CHILD NOW. I'M ADOPTING HIM.

Moon tried his best to keep that sun at peace, WHICH BRINGS ME BACK TO THE SAME TOPIC, WHY DOES HE HELP EVERYONE EXCEPT HIS SUN

I get it was a different situation BUT CMON.

I suppose I already ranted enough about that part, though

I would add more but I'm INCREDIBLY tired and all.. so um yeah-