#to not have to spend his life tied to the bureau just because he’s good at what he does

[ivystitches]

season 5 of white collar is very pleasing to me because i love conman neal caffrey but it really makes me dislike peter. he tells every criminal he comes across that all they’ll ever be is a criminal, but also tells neal that he corrupted the system by getting him out of prison on a bribe but was your system ever really working if you keep putting people through it to punish them for their crimes but then also don’t think they’ll ever change? he’s lowkey turned into kramer this season

[novaksupremacy]

The Backseat of My Car- Casey Novak x Alex Cabot

soooo, a little Friday morning smutty treat for my loves. ❤️ I was told part 2 of This is My Office was needed and since it'll be a while before I even get to this chapter, here's a present 😜 consider it a peace offering that it may take me a few days for Chapter 7 😅 (also if someone could teach my goofy ass how to format so that things indent properly, I'll love you forever!)

"Don't beat yourself up, that was a tough case." Casey consoled her girlfriend as they walked through the parking garage, "you know there's always the possibility that a juror will be sympathetic towards one of these crackpots."

Alex was seething mad, "Langan's just lucky I don't feel like spending the rest of my life in jail or I'd have him strung up by his testicles!"

The redhead's lip curled in disgust. She stopped walking and grabbed Alex's hand. "Babe I would really rather not think about you anywhere near that man's testicles, or any man's testicles for that matter.

"Sorry," the blonde frowned, "he just makes me so mad I could spit. I can't believe I ever went on a date with that man." She went to start walking again.

The younger ADA stopped again and pulled Alex back towards her, "Okay, what? I don't know what's worse, you, talking about his nuts or the fact that you went out with him.

Alex chuckled, "It was one date, we never made it passed the bar. I really just needed info on a case."

Casey smirked, "Ah yeah because that makes it better." She giggled and pulled her closer, "Just remember who you belong to, Alexandra Cabot."

"How could I ever forget," the Bureau Chief leaned in and kissed her girlfriend.

The redhead rested her free hand against the blonde's thigh. Her eyes lit up when she realized she was still strapped from earlier. "Babe? Your windows are tinted right?"

"Darker than they should be actually, I have to put the DA placard in the window just to avoid getting ticketed. Why?" Casey shot her a look that could only be construed as mischievous.

 "Oh. OH. Backseat." Alex said excitedly.

Both women slid into the backseat of the BMW and Casey closed the door behind them. She wasted no time tossing the blue eyed beauty's glasses into the front seat and grabbing her around the neck, pulling her in to a messy, heated kiss.

Alex chuckled as she started unbuttoning her shirt.

"What's so funny?" the redhead mused, laughing if only because Alex was.

"I feel like a teenager." This was the most relaxed the Bureau Chief had been in as long as she could remember, being with Casey felt-- effortless. "In a good way that is" she said reassuringly.

"Oh yeah? Is this what Alexandra Cabot was like in high school? Riding in cars with boys?" Her girlfriend said teasingly. "I don't know about this then, I like mature, collected, no nonsense ADA Alex Cabot Bureau Chief extraordinaire."

The blonde grabbed Casey by her collar. "The only person who's going to be riding anything is you riding me in a minute and don't worry dear, I know what it is you like." She whispered as she kissed the redhead with force, she was starving for something only Casey could satiate.

"Fuck," Casey sighed. "Alex do you have to be so damn sexy constantly."

"Do you want me to stop?" She smirked as she ruined the second one of Casey's shirts today, buttons scattering to the cars floor mats.

The younger ADAs breath hitched, “No. Don’t. Stop.” She whispered playfully pausing between words as she pulled open Alex's belt and fly. She bit her lip hard, "mmm I want to try something okay? But don't think I'm weird."

Alex's blue eyes look into her hazel green ones with curiosity. "Baby if I ever thought you were weird, ever, in the time I've known you, I meant it as the highest compliment." She leaned back against the car door.

Casey put her hand against the blondes open fly and exposed the strap she was still wearing from their earlier encounter. The ginger sat up for a minute and pulled her hair back and tied it there with a ponytail holder she had around her wrist. She leaned back down and brought the strap into her mouth and began to suck.

 The golden haired adonis' eyes grew wide. "Baby that's not weird, that's hot." She whimpered as she brought her hand to the back of her lover's head pushed down lightly while she ran her other hand through her own hair. The ADA never breaking eye contact as she went to town on the toy, running her tongue up to the tip, and then taking the whole thing into her mouth.

After a minute or two she sat back up, licking her lips, and grabbed Alex by the hips pulling her flat on the backseat. "So,” the redhead blushed, “you liked that?"

"Very much so," the blonde said panting.

"Mmm, good to know." Her devilish grin plastered across her face. With a little maneuvering and a few giggles, she was able to shimmy her way out of her suit pants and on top of her girlfriend. She steadied her balance and brought herself down on top of the strap letting out a small moan, her body shuddered as she leaned down to kiss Alex. The angle making the toy hit her just right as the blonde slowly pushed her hips up, both women groaning softly.

"Fuck that feels good." Casey mewled beginning to roll her hips against Alex.

"I bet it does," the blonde cooed thrusting her hips up slow and deliberate. Copying her lover's expression as her lips parted and she let out a soft gasp of pleasure.

The redhead pushed back against the toy holding one hand to Alex's chest and the other to the window behind her head. "Alex," she whimpered, her body craving more, "I can't take much more teasing."

“Is that so? You sure you don’t want it nice and slow,” She thrust her hips slowly, holding Casey by her waist and guiding her up and down against her body, fucking her at a torturously slow pace, continuing to mimic her facial expressions has her mouth fell open and tiny gasps and moans emanated from her throat.

“Alex,” the redhead whispered, “Fuck, Alex.”

“Well obviously if you can remember my name, I haven’t tortured you nearly enough.” The blonde smirked. Casey brought her hand to her own clit, but Alex stopped her, “Ah, no cheating baby.”

The redhead whined. She started pushing herself down harder against her girlfriend, “Alex I want you to ruin me.” She moaned as she ground her hips down.

The blue eyed beauty’s pupils dilated as she took tight hold of Casey’s hips and began thrusting. She picked up her pace a little at a time until she was slamming into Casey, who was rolling her hips, leaning over Alex whimpering in her ear.

“Mmm baby, like that,” she nibbled on the blonde’s ear, causing her to sigh, “Oh Alex, Alex. Mmm, I love the way you fill me up.” She whispered with a smirk, knowing if her hot breath kept hitting her face as she did, that Alex would cum for her before she even finished.

The Bureau Chief slammed into Casey holding her hips down tight to hers and rolling them towards her. Casey cried out as Alex did this a few more times, smacking the redheads ass each time and then grabbing a fistful of supple skin and holding on.

The redhead was getting louder, “Ahh, Alex, fuck me! Just like that, don’t stop. Don’t stop baby.”

Alex spurred on by Casey’s cries also started moaning loudly. “That’s it baby, scream for me.” The blonde loved when Casey got loud and all the little noises she could get her to make as she fucked all the right spots. Alex felt her insides flutter as Casey hit a note that she was fairly sure only dogs could hear as her juices came spilling out around the toy and onto Alex again. As they both climaxed the redhead collapsed against her girlfriend leaning up just enough to stare into her crystal blue eyes. The blonde went to sit up.

“Not yet,” the ADA whimpered, “stay inside a bit longer?” Alex obliged and began stroking her girlfriends back.

“You okay darling?” she asked, checking in.

Casey nodded, “More than okay. Just trying to come back down.” Her body shook as she had another small aftershock.

“I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.” Alex whispered bring her into a yielding, tender kiss.

They hadn’t been kissing exceedingly long when there was a knock on the window. The women looked at each other, frozen in fear, “Cops?” Casey mouthed.

“No, this lot is run by CCTV” Alex whispered, “who would’ve called it in?”

There was another knock, this time slower, more annoyed.

Casey went to press the window down much to Alex’s protest, only to find Liz looking back at her.

The Judges face was more stern than either of them had ever seen on her worst day. Alex jerked her head around, still inside Casey, both of them half naked, Casey’s shirt completely undone.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Liz said through gritted teeth. “What the fuck is wrong with the two of you?” She put her hand up in protest, “Don’t answer that. And Casey don’t get up lest I see more of you than I want to.”

Alex tried to protest and say something, but Donnelly stopped her before she could even get a single syllable out. “Alexandra, I don’t want to hear it. What is this? Some sort of midlife crisis? Can you not fuck at home? What are you afraid the cat is watching?”

“Judge Donnelly, we’re” Casey tried to apologize.

“Not another word Novak, you’re lucky this lot is not owned by the city. For God’s sake you both work SVU, you know how bad an indecent exposure charge can get! Have you both stopped taking your medication?”

“Liz why does it sound like you’re scolding teenagers?”

“Lena, I” but before Liz could say anymore Judge Petrovsky had already approached the car window, Alex and Casey staring at her from a very compromising position.

“It would seem it’s because apparently you are. Ah, Ms. Novak it appears that your reoccurring nightmare has finally come true. Charming. Ms. Cabot, make sure you put some concealer on all of that before you get to my courtroom in the morning. I’m late for poker. Goodnight Elizabeth.” She put a hand on Donnelly’s arm and walked off towards the street.

Liz looked at the two ADAs in disbelief, “I am washing my hands of the both of you. Please fuck each other’s brains out, before you get to work tomorrow? For everyone in the building’s sake?” With the click of her heel, she walked off towards her car hidden away in the far corner of the parking lot.

Casey side, “And she wonders why those kids said she had a broom up her butt.” She rolled up the car window, and gently removed Alex from inside her, trying to maneuver enough to get her pants back on.

Alex furrowed her brow, “Wait, what?”

“Elliot tells it better.”

“Elliot?” the blonde didn’t think she could be more confused, but here she was, for the second time today, covered in Casey, just having been yelled at by Judge Donnelly, how did they get to Elliot?

They both climbed into the front seat and Alex put her glasses back on and the key in the ignition.

“Did that,” Alex started, “Did that really just happen?” she chuckled even though her hands were shaking.

“I guess we need to be more discreet at work,” Casey grimaced.

“I don’t take it back, I would take a thousand censures to here you say my name like that.” Alex said, lust dripping from her words, “I just need to stop leaving the office door unlocked or answering window knocks unless they identify themselves as the police.”

Casey raised a finger.

“Police who are not Elliot.”

Casey raised her finger again.

“Or Olivia.”

“There it is.” The redhead nodded.

[coolattas]

thinking about lucretia adventurezone and grinding my teeth down to the gums because holy fuck dude. holy shit. she was impossibly, horribly young on the starblaster. three hops and a jump from being a fucking baby. the two-sunned planet is devoured by the hunger in the same year that she graduates from high school. she is easily the youngest of the birds, even considering the differing rates of aging amongst the rest of the crew. teenaged astrophysicist, wizard, author, artist, without ties solid enough back home to keep her from the starblaster's maiden voyage. she writes and rewrites every moment she can wring from her memories into enough notebooks that it's damn near arthritis-inducing to step within 50 feet of the stacks upon stacks of field notes, of detailed accounts and gentle, domestic benignity. she loves and she loses and it still can't ever prepare her for the next decade. a century dwarfs the time she spends alone running the bureau, but the sheer magnitude of her loss is incomparable. lucretia learns to live in the stolen century, learns to rely on others, learns to trust and care and laugh and build, create, sacrifice, indulge. she pries these things away from herself in the name of a greater good, to what she believes to be their only hope. she sees the agony they're in, and she inadvertently compounds that anguish when she tries to fix it. she is 18 and 118 when she feeds fisher her journals. she is 30 and 130 and 50 and 150 when taako holds a staff to her chest and counts down like it means anything to her anymore that she dies. maybe it's atonement, but even that sounds far too holy a word to describe it. her brother grips her life in his hands, and she thinks it's only fair that he is the one to soundly smother it at last. the lonely journal-keeper is so young and so impossibly old and she is so, so tired. her family will outlive her by centuries. she will be a fine powder, dust beneath the crust of the planet, long before she believes their forgiveness will ever be known. if that day comes at all. everything she has ever done is soured by a guilt so weighty that she spends every day trying to play damage control with the havoc she feels solely responsible for having wrought. she lives within the confines of dichotomy, of red and blue and good and bad, even when she knows she's lying through her teeth, because its easier to live with herself (it's not) when she justifies it, when everyone else lives and dies by the idea that she got it right. she spends 12 years alone, sitting in the thick of her own grief. she mourns men who are right in front of her face. she sees the way they have changed, so fundamentally, sees the ways her choices have ruined them. 12 years is such a long time to be alone. 12 fucking years. she ages 32 in the same span, shedding decades in wonderland in the blink of an eye, and she knows she's running out of time. she's willing to give up whatever she has left, without question. lucretia loves so fiercely and so unquestionably and still she believes herself to be irredeemably cruel when really she was just so scared, tethered to any sense of hope only by the idea that she was doing right by her family. in a position that no one should have to be in, a situation that virtually no one else could truly understand. she was so young and she suffered so, so much. more than any person should. she is flawed but she is not the monster she convinces herself she has become. lucretia adventurezone they could never make me hate you lets kiss on the mouth ok?

[uncpanda]

The Ties that Bind: Damaged AU

Synopsis of series: Being the older sister of a literal genius? It’s not easy. Raising said genius from childhood on? An act of love. Uprooting your life again when he gets in over his head? A no brainer. Finding a new family and support system for yourself? Well, you suppose that’s just luck.

Master List

AN: This is based off of season three episode fourteen where Hotch is an emotional mess due to the divorce papers and goes to interview a serial killer anyways. This did not turn out like I expected, but I love it sooo much. You have no idea. 

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” 

Spencer barely looks up from his food, not that he’s eaten much, he’s mainly just pushed it around the plate. It’s something he’s always done when he has something on his mind. You nudge him with your toe, and he looks up at you and gives you his polite smile, “It’s nothing. Really.” 

You call him on it, “Liar.” 

He smiles for real, “You sure you don’t want to be a profiler?” 

“I can read you because I know you. I can’t do it with everyone. Now what’s wrong?” 

You watch him think, probably about if he should tell you what’s bothering him, before finally pushing his plate away, “Today . . . Hotch and I went to interview a serial killer. He’s due to be executed next week. And I mean . . . they’re all bad, but this guy was really bad. He had never granted an interview before today, so we jumped on the opportunity. The more we know, the better we are at our jobs. But he’s smart, really smart. He figured out the guard schedule, and we got stuck in there. No weapons. Nothing to defend ourselves with. He was planning on killing us.” 

Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your chest, but you do your best to hide it. Spencer needs this. 

“And Hotch . . . I’ve never seen him like that before. He was ready to fight the guy. Usually he’d use his words, what he knows to keep him at bay, but he was just ready to . . . it reminded me of that time you went after Mark White, when he stuffed me in a locker. You tossed your bag to the side, and slipped off your jacket, and you just went after him. That’s what was about to happen here.” 

You try to make a joke, “Was Hotch me or Mark White?” 

Spencer smiles, “You.” 

“Then you have nothing to worry about. I kicked Mark’s ass, and I did it off of school grounds, so I didn’t get in trouble.” 

Spencer leans back in his chair and crosses his arms against his chest, “I’m starting to realize that you may have been a bad influence.” 

“Sure. Blame me. Keep going.” 

“Not much left to say. I was able to calm him down by analyzing his behavior and putting it into perspective long enough for the guards to come back. Hotch apologized on the drive home . . . he said. . .that Haley wants him to sign the divorce papers uncontested. I think it’s killing him. Figuratively, and almost literally today.” 

You take that sentence in, and then to set him at ease you make a joke, “Are you saying, you don’t think Hotch would have won, because something tells me . . . the man has moves.” 

Spencer rolls his eyes, “He rarely leaves the office.” You spend the next hour visiting with your brother and cleaning up dinner before he heads home to his own apartment. After that you try to take your mind off the situation at hand, but you have a hard time doing so. 

Agent Hotchner is a kind man. A good man. But you can’t imagine him having a large support system, especially with his wife leaving him. You know what kind of loneliness that brings. 

Before you can stop yourself, you’re in your car and on your way to the bureau. The agent behind the front desk gives you an odd look but signs you in anyways when he finds you on the approved visitors page. You enter the bullpen to find it mostly dark, with the exception of light from one office. 

You take the stairs slowly, trying to figure out what to say, but not really sure. It’s not as though you know the man well. You’ve talked to him at a few BAU get-togethers, and he was very kind the first time you met when Spencer was in the hospital. All you know is that you want to help him. 

The door is cracked, but you still knock. A rather surprised, “Come in.” comes a second later, and you step in. Agent Hotchner stands, a confused look on his face, “Ms. Reid?” And then dawning, “Spencer told you what happened today. I’m so sorry. . . I don’t know what I Was thinking and . . .” 

“You were thinking, I want to feel something.” 

He pauses, “What?” 

“That’s what you were thinking or feeling. Whatever terminology you want to use.” 

He’s silent for one heartbeat, two, and then says, “I expected yelling when I saw you.” 

You give him a small smile, “Spencer’s filled your head with too many stories of me. No, I’m not here to yell. I’m here because I think you need a friend.” 

You see a hint of annoyance in his eyes, “Ms. Reid, while I appreciate the concern. . .” 

“You don’t appreciate it. Don’t lie. Right now, you’re mad at the world. You feel like it’s your fault, and when those two things aren’t waging war for the top place, numbness sneaks in.” 

He visibly swallows and you keep going, “I’ve been there.” 

“You chose a job over your marriage, the person you love, Spencer?” 

“Not exactly. But I know what it means to have something that drives you to a point where you have to do it.?” 

His eyes are wary, but you watch as he relaxes ever so slightly.  

He settles in his seat, and you move to one of the chairs in front of his desk, “I never knew my biological father. Before her break, my mother referred to him as my sperm donor. I was three, and it’s one of my earliest memories. It was right after she started dating William. He adopted me, I took on the name Reid, and called him dad, cause he was my dad. He loved me, never favored Spencer over me, he was a good dad. 

“But when my mom went off her meds for the first time since she was pregnant with Spencer, things got hard. Fast. I remember sitting in the kitchen, waiting for him to come home one night, and he asked me how I felt about Spencer and I going away with him. I told him, we couldn’t leave mom, because she wouldn’t be okay. I was nine. I made him promise that he’d stay. He left three weeks later. 

“From that point on Spencer was my life. My mom was . . . well she wasn’t in any state to help. I took on everything, and Spencer made it easy, he was smart, but he was still a kid.” 

“So were you.” His voice is quiet. 

“I stopped being a kid, the moment I read that letter from William. My life revolved around Spencer. He was the one good thing I had, and I was going to be damned if I let anything get in the way of that. I canceled on friends, I didn’t do certain clubs, I picked my college based on him. It drove a lot of people away. But it was my mission. It was my purpose, and I was terrified of who I would be without it. I was scared that I’d be lacking in every other aspect if I didn’t keep doing it.” 

You go silent for a minute, and Agent Hotchner’s eyes go to a spot behind your head, “The job is my Spencer.” He lets out a humorless laugh, before he scrubs a hand over his face. 

“Yep. You want to protect people. Save them. And you’re scared of who you’ll be without it. You need to find balance before you end up like me.” 

He raises an eyebrow at that, “When Spencer told me he was joining the FBI, I didn’t speak to him for three days. Because when he told me he was joining, he also told me it was time for me to live my life. He specifically said, he didn’t want me to move to the East Coast with him. I faked it after those three days. It wasn’t fair to put my hang ups on him. But when he was gone, and I was alone, I realized just how bad off I was. I had no one. I had a few work friends, but no real connections. It took a lot of time to figure out who I am. To figure out that I deserve a life outside of being Spencer’s sister. Just like you deserve a life outside of being Agent Hotchner.” 

His fingers drum on the desk, and his tongue pokes at the side of his cheek, “When I got the divorce papers I was more upset that Haley had them served to me at work, than I was about the actual divorce. And that . . .that scared me. I started thinking about other agents I know, who would retire and have nothing left: No spouse, no kids or kids who won’t talk to them. And I realized that’s where I was headed.” 

His eyes meet yours, “I love Haley. She was everything to me, but now . . .” 

“Now, you’re hurt. You’re mad that she’s put an end to something you thought would be forever, even though you understand she’s doing what’s best for her and Jack. You drifted apart, but that doesn’t mean those ideas and plans you had disappearing hurt any less. Can I make a recommendation?” He nodds, “Speak to someone professionally. Figure out who you are, and what you want, so you don’t end up a pathetic, retired FBI agent, talking about the good old days.” 

Your teasing tone actually draws out a smile. “Have any recommendations?” 

“Ohhh no. We’re not sharing a therapist. That spells trouble.” 

His tone becomes sarcastic, “Really?” 

“Oh yeah. I mean, how am I supposed to complain about the annoying stuff you do if I know you’re talking to her?” His brow furrows in confusion and you smile, “I tend to vent about my friends in therapy especially when they do stupid stuff like challenge a serial killer on death row to a cage match.” 

“Friends?” 

“Yeah. I haven’t made too many since moving to DC, and I see a kindred spirit in you. I’m slipping backwards, and that needs to stop. Plus, when you have friends, you don’t end up staying in your office overnight, and being that scary overworked boss that people hate.” 

He gives you an incredulous look, “Excuse me?” 

You stand from your chair, “You heard me. Grab your coat. We’re going for coffee?” 

“At eleven at night?” 

You shrug, “We can get you decaf if you need it grandpa.” 

He scoffs and grabs his suit jacket, “I’m what, five years older than you?” 

“And don’t you forget it!” 

He rolls his eyes, but follows after you, stopping suddenly when you do. You turn to face him in the doorway, “When you feel that numbness come back, don’t let anger be the emotion you replace it with. That gets you in trouble. Find something happy to do. Call your son, prod Spencer for a random fact that’s going to make the rest of the team groan, have a piece of chocolate, or call a friend. But don’t let anger win. It’s how you end up with busted knuckles, and the police being called.” 

He stares at you for a second, and you can tell he’s trying to decide if he wants to hear that story, he decides not and says, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” 

“Good. Now are you going to be an overworked adult and order an actual caffeinated beverage or are you going to act your age?” 

Tag List: 

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[couldntbedamned]

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 10

Summary:  In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he’s swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he’s running out of time before he’s out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a “lack of personal fulfillment and settling down,” he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man’s profile he’d briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It’s not ideal, but if after a year it’s not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It’s a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It’s either going to be forever or it’s going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags:  18+ MINORS DNI, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is of Legal Age, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker

<<<>>>

Chapter 10

<<<>>>

He. Didn’t. React.

Stephen had eaten dinner, not once rising to the bait of something so basic as a cold sandwich and canned soup. He’d been perfectly pleasant and Peter, annoyed, wanted to slap that serene look off of his ridiculously handsome face. Where was the fury, the disdain?

No, he was perfectly pleasant, and even helped Peter tidy up the kitchen, though he looked a little taken aback at the number of dishes.

“Thank you for dinner,” he said, once Peter had put away the last utensil. “There’s a radio show that runs on Friday evenings, if you’d like to listen.”

Peter was torn. He didn’t want to spend an evening with Stephen, but he did enjoy radio shows. He knew that the more he acted out, the higher a chance Stephen would take exception and spank him. Which part of him kind of wanted because it meant he could be angry and indignant even longer.

“Sure,” he said. What did he actually have to gain by saying no besides a sore ass and another night spent wishing he could have gotten off? And why not have a restful Friday evening, which he really should be doing, anyways?

He didn’t know what Stephen was up to when he pulled out Scrabble and tuned the PymCo. console’s radio to the station the show would play on, but he decided he might as well go with it.

“Right,” Peter said as they drew their seven tiles and then one last time to determine who played first. “English only?”

Stephen’s brows shot up. “Español? Français? Deutsch?”

Peter shrugged. “Sure.”

“Alright then,” Stephen allowed. He motioned to his mobile. “Foreign languages are allowed, provided we can look them up.”

“This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you,” Peter said close to an hour later, as he and Stephen were tied and the show was on an ad break. (Rex Gladstone, Ace Detective is sponsored by Kang Time Industries. When you want quality time pieces, you turn to Kang. Kang, for all time, always.)

“I wasn’t under the impression it did,” Stephen confirmed. He made a neat play off of Peter’s “phalange” to spell out “pferd”. “Horse in German,” he added for Peter’s benefit. Peter knew that but made Stephen pull it up so he could verify it anyways.

“Good.” Peter eyed the “a” and “m” he had yet to play and saw his chance. Yes, it was only a three-letter word, but it suited his mood just fine. “Dam.”

“If there’s ever a chance,” Stephen said conversationally, “seeing the Boulder Dam is worth the trip.”

“That’s another kind of dam,” Peter agreed.

“Oh, and what’s yours?”

“Blood,” he answered. “In Hebrew.”

He was astonished when Stephen laughed. He hadn’t heard the sound before. It was low and rich and utterly pleasant. Something Peter melted at hearing it, like tension in his shoulder dissipating.

Things between them weren’t exactly okay. But maybe there’d be a way forward.

Stephen won the game - barely - after he managed to play “quixotic”, bringing his total to 217 against Peter’s 205. Peter was reluctantly impressed. He hadn’t lost a game of Scrabble since Uncle Ben - undisputed Parker family champion - passed away. His aunt May hadn’t had the knack for it, and usually found herself playing moderator. His friends at school or at temple were decent, but not as good as him.

Stephen was a worthy opponent. And the game had been the most fun he’d had playing in a long time.

The radio show had been entertaining as well. They’d listened as Rex Gladstone (Ace Detective) was fired from the force, buried alive, rescued himself, saved the mayor’s wife from poisoning, found his long-lost sister (the mayor’s wife!), was reinstated, brought down the city’s crime lord, fired again, and by the time the show was done for the week, was supposedly in his car that had blown up.

For the first time since they’d gotten married, Peter wasn’t nervous about going to bed. He helped Stephen pick the tiles up to put back in the bag and then put the game away while Stephen turned the radio off. Stephen ensured the house was secure for the night and they went upstairs.

Part of him hated himself for giving in, for being so easily swayed by a pleasant evening with a good-natured Stephen. This was the same man who’d accused him of infidelity and hadn’t given Peter the chance to defend himself. Sure, he’d apologized once he’d learned he was wrong, but what was to stop him from similar accusations in the future every time he saw something out of place?

But on the other hand, he again asked himself: what did he have to gain by being resistant? Keeping his pride intact? That had gone down the drain the moment he’d signed his life over to the BCSS.

And really, just what was he expecting from Stephen? For the man to get on his knees spouting pretty words Peter knew he wouldn’t believe? To feel so overwhelmed by guilt that he’d remove the cage permanently? Even on that last one, Peter was torn.

“Are you planning on undressing, or shall I do it for you?” Stephen’s question turned his attention away from his thoughts.

“Oh. You still want me?” Peter asked.

Stephen’s lips quirked and his gaze was hot. “From the moment I saw you.”

Peter’s hands shook as he pulled off his shirt and tried several times to undue the buckle of his belt. Stephen took that task over, his hands trained to be steady. He went back to his own clothes as Peter slid the belt from its loops and pushed his pants and briefs down. By the time he’d put his clothes - socks included - in the hamper, Stephen had his own in a neat pile, ready to be added. Then Stephen drew him in and did something he hadn’t done before.

He kissed him.

Much, much later, after Stephen had taken Peter apart over and over before finally indulging himself and spilling inside the gorgeous little body of his young husband, he lay next to him, under the covers, lights off. Peter hadn’t drifted off to sleep immediately after, for once.

And Stephen figured he had nothing to lose by being honest. The dark kept him from feeling completely vulnerable, at least.

“My mother was a kind woman,” he said quietly. “Probably too kind. She cared for my father, gave him three children.”

Peter said nothing.

“My father, however, was anything but kind. He was cold and calculating and always searching for more in life. More money, more power, more importance. He never cared who he hurt along the way. He didn’t grieve when either my brother or sister died. He certainly didn’t care about my mother’s feelings, not a bit. He only paid any attention to me when I achieved some award in school or a colleague had something nice to say about me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Peter whispered the question.

“He didn’t hide his affairs, never made any attempt to be discrete. He’d come home with lipstick on his collar or smelling of some woman’s cheap perfume. And every time he did, I watched a little part of my mother die inside. Sometimes I hated her for it, for sticking around, for not standing up to him.” He took a breath. “I promised myself I’d never be like her in that regard, that I’d never do something to hurt whoever I married so much... or stand for it myself.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, again. “You don’t have to believe me, or forgive me, but I am sorry for how I reacted. It was unfair to you, and I’ll do my best to be more reasonable when I find something amiss.”

“Thank you,” Peter whispered.

Stephen fell asleep, feeling lighter.

So did Peter.

When Stephen came down for breakfast, he got his own cup of coffee and asked if there was anything he could do to help.

“No,” Peter said. “I’ve got it. It should be done in a few minutes.”

“It’s not canned soup again, is it?” Stephen asked.

Peter looked back sharply. He knew that Stephen had known!

“It was a funny little way of showing me how pissed you were,” Stephen acknowledged with a smirk.

“You didn’t react,” Peter said, feeling childishly annoyed.

“Because it’s what you were hoping for,” Stephen said simply, still smirking. “You wanted to goad me so I’d get angry and then you could feel righteously angry and push me into punishing you and you could continue feeling pissy.” He gave Peter an unimpressed look. “We both have better things to do with our time.”

Reluctantly, Peter nodded and turned his attention back to the oven. But then he couldn't help himself. "You really weren't angry?" he asked, turning around. "Not even a little?"

"I was more annoyed than anything," Stephen admitted. "But canned soup is something of a step up from the ramen and chickpea diet I lived on in medical school."

"Noted," Peter said, finally. He pulled his creation out of the oven when the timer signaled. The spinach and mushroom strata was going to be delicious, he just knew it. He was glad he’d taken the time to prep it instead of making a fancy dinner the previous night.

He watched Stephen’s reaction to the food with some satisfaction. “You made this this morning?” he asked, surprised.

“I started it last night,” Peter said. “Surely you didn’t think all the clanging around was just for soup and sandwiches?” he asked.

Stephen shrugged. “Well, you tend to use more dishes when cooking than anyone else I know, so it never occurred to me to question it. This is very good, though. What is it?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s a strata with mushrooms and spinach. It’s actually my Aunt May’s recipe.”

Stephen had another serving and even refilled Peter’s coffee. “Thank you.”

There wasn’t much to do in terms of housework outside of laundry. Peter was grateful for that because his legs were sore from his run the previous day. He thought he’d done a good job hiding that fact, but Stephen happened to catch him walking with a slight limp as he came downstairs from putting away the latest load of clothes.

“What’s wrong?” He asked with a frown.

“I’m just sore from running yesterday,” Peter explained. “I hadn’t run in a while, and I shouldn’t have pushed myself so hard. I’ll be fine in a day or so.”

“You should drink some water,” Stephen said. “Did you stretch, afterwards?”

Peter nodded. “Yes, I’ve been drinking water and I stretched as part of my cool down. I’ll be okay, once I’m into a consistent schedule with it.”

Stephen looked like he wanted to protest but said nothing. “If you get hurt you need to tell me-”

“Immediately, I know,” Peter agreed. “I will, sure. But I’m fine, just need to get through the muscle soreness and then I’ll be the bees’ knees again.”

“Do you prefer running outside?”

Peter was confused. “As opposed to what?”

“A treadmill,” Stephen said. “The hospital uses them for rehabilitation and physical therapy, but they’re becoming more popular in gyms as well. Starks’ just launched their line this past year.”

“I’m fine with running outside,” Peter said. He was a little astonished that Stephen thought he might be worth the investment - what if he or Peter decided to annul once the year was up?

“And when it gets colder than Peggy Carter’s left tit outside?” Stephen asked.

If Peter had taken a drink, he would have spat it out. “Stephen!”

Stephen didn’t look bothered. “Meet her yourself, she’s awful. I mean, they all are but she’s probably the worst.”

Peter had heard Stephen call the hospital's board of directors insufferable more than once, but he wondered that that woman in particular had done to earn his ire.

“Did you two… used to date or something?”

The look on Stephen’s face was somewhere between disgust and horror. Peter nearly laughed. “Okay, definitely not,” Peter said quickly. “You clearly have better taste.” He motioned to himself with got the desired laugh out of Stephen, short as it was.

“Take some ibuprofen and do some resting today,” Stephen said. “I think if you clean any more the wallpaper will start rubbing off.”

Peter did as Stephen said and popped a couple of the anti-inflammatories. He found the book he’d been reading the one night with Stephen after dinner and settled into the other armchair in the den. After a moment, he got up and fiddled with the radio, finding the sister station of the one he’d listened to with his aunt back in Midtown. Soft big band music played, interspersed with more modern hits.

Stephen - wearing his reading glasses again - nodded approvingly and they spent their day reading. The only interruptions were Peter tending to the wash after it signaled and making them both lunch. When Peter was about to go and start dinner, Stephen stopped him. “We’re going out for dinner.”

Bewildered, Peter could only nod. “Am I dressed okay?”

Stephen eyed him. “More than. It’s not a fancy restaurant, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Peter did. It was a pizza place that specialized in individual pizzas. He ordered most of the vegetables and, to Stephen’s disgust, anchovies. Stephen, as he could have predicted, went heavy on the meats and cheese, with a few green peppers tossed on for appearances sake.

It was lively on a Saturday evening, and they had several people stop by their table to say hello. Peter felt like his face would break from all the smiling he was doing, and he could tell Stephen was starting to get annoyed as well.

“Do they deliver?” Peter asked lowly after yet another older couple offered their congratulations on the marriage and finally returned to their own table.

“If they don’t, I’m sure they will if I pay them enough,” Stephen answered. “It’s a sound plan.”

Peter felt yet another ball of tension in him relax - Stephen wasn’t one for heavy socializing, either. He knew it’d be his job to keep things smooth when it came time to host dinners and other get-togethers but knowing Stephen might make his job that much easier was great.

Sunday went by like a dream and Peter was sure being woken up for sex that morning helped. Apparently, Stephen hadn’t gotten enough the night before, which was just fine. Peter was never going to complain about orgasms, even if he was starting to feel odd when the cage wasn’t on.

Monday was much the same and given that Stephen kept him in bed well past seven, he couldn’t complain about breakfast being late.

He dusted throughout the house, including the den, and changed the sheets on their bed. Feeling generous, he even made lunch for them both before telling Stephen of his plans to go grocery shopping.

“I can take you,” Stephen offered.

Peter shook his head. “It’s fine. It’s boring work, honestly. Besides, you’re technically still on vacation.”

He called the car service and let them know his planned stops. Making a last look around the kitchen to ensure his list was adequate, Peter grabbed his grocery bags and went outside to wait on the car.

Annoyed as he’d been to be all but forced to take a week of vacation, Stephen had mixed feelings on the time coming to an end. He’d made a tentative peace with Peter, even after he’d been an unreasonable ass to the young man. Peter was a brat, sure, but also thoughtful and with a smart sense of humor Stephen could appreciate.

When Tuesday morning came and Stephen went back to work (in a perfectly starched and ironed shirt as well as slacks), bidding Peter to have a pleasant day, he determinedly ignored the small pang he felt leaving.

He had lives to save, after all.

And the most irritating group of people in the world to do his best and ignore.

(He hoped that his absence wasn’t too much of a cause for relief for Peter.)

<<<>>>

[beaudeanw]

Soldier Boy- What can we expect?

- Possible spoilers ahead

Gif credit : @justjensenanddean

The Boys S3 will have Jensen Ackles as Soldier Boy - A Captain America-esque Supe, also known as the original superhero.

In the comic books, there are three versions of Soldier Boy. Ackles will be playing the first one. According to Eric Kripke, Soldier Boy is like the Homelander before Homelander. He has a similar kind of ambition & ego. It will just come in a different way.

He was a leader of the Team Payback - a Parody of The Avengers.

In the show, Soldier boy was the only one to ever exist.

Soldier Boy as a Character

As said above, Soldier Boy is touted to be very powerful. His powers are almost on the same level as Homelander.

According to a recent q&a with Kripke, he mentioned that Homelander will be threatened by Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy is said to be very Charming and Funny.

He will have this charisma that attracts the public towards him. As mentioned in the first episode of The Boys Season 2, Soldier Boy killed Nazis by a huge amount and he helped the Allies win the World War 2 against Germany. After that he went on to become a movie star and a huge mainstay of American culture.

During the course of S2 we saw some Easter eggs like his movie posters on the wall. Kripke compared his character to somewhat like John Wayne. If you google search John Wayne, you will get to know that he was conservative, racist, homophobic etc. John Wayne although famous for playing Soldiers in cinema, never served in WW2. He also had a complicated relationship with women.

Soldier Boy might take some similar route considering the fact that he is in fact from the 1940s. The q&a mentioned that he will be involved in a lot of Sex, Violence & Swears. Needless to say, soldier boy can totally be a. One of the 2018 tweets of Kripke said that Soldier Boy was involved in drugs & stuff. This might also be a part of his personality.

Since it's also said to be a parody of Cap America, Soldier Boy a complete anti-thesis of what former stands for. Cap America is sort of a moral, altruistic, kind & good superhero. Soldier Boy might be completely opposite. That he has no shame in hurting people & possesses no morals in order to get his work done & his ambition fulfilled. He can be the reason for the war crimes that America did after the WW2.

How the character might fit in S3

Now The Boys Season 2 ended with Stormfront becoming Stump-front. We have Homelander who got blackmailed by Queen Maeve with the footage from the airplane back from S1. We have Starlight & A- Train back in the Seven. However, the most important part is how both Vought & Homelander are completely screwed in the public eye. As we know in S2, Homelander was getting boo-ed by the public for indulging in war crimes. Now Stormfront's Nazi reveal should have some serious repercussions. The public people might boycott Vought because of their alleged ties with a literal Nazi. Homelander might not get the same love & respect in the public because he had love affair with her. We also have a Federal Bureau of Supe Affairs to keep Vought into check by Victoria Neumann, who is also a supe but thats not the point. The point is Vought needs a good PR to get themselves out of this mess.

Enter- Soldier Boy

Now there is a common theory that Vought must have kept him in some kind of facility & have him trapped. This is a very good possibility since that will mean that he is basically has no idea about the modern world. During S2 we saw a statue of Soldier Boy which showed that he sort of died in the 80s. So it will be interesting to see how Vought brings Soldier Boy back in the public eye.

Now Soldier Boy coming back to Vought can help them with Good PR. I mean who better than a Supe who killed Nazis in WW2 can help Vought clean up the Nazi shitstorm. He is the golden boy of patriotism. He is like a blue print of how they wanted Homelander to be when they created him the lab.

Another common theory that spread which was also kind of agreed by Laz Alonso, the actor who plays Mother's milk said that only his character until now never had something personal against a supe. We also learnt sort of MM's backstory in S2 which mentioned his father working against Vought & how he fought until he died. We have an idea that there is a possibility that both Soldier Boy & his father might have existed at the same point & SB might have something to do with his dad.

This can also be the reason why he vanished in the 80s & Vought lied about his death.

This also makes sense because at the end of S2, we saw all the members of The Boys seperated. One of the major reasons why they come back together is to help MM. I mean MM has been kind of a backbone keeping all of them together. A moral conscience. He is a good friend of all. So if he is in problem, the boys will come back together to help him for a change.

I am pretty sure that with Soldier Boy we will get to learn a lot about the dirty past of Vought & metaphorically, America.

Soldier Boy and Homelander

So first of all, Ackles' Soldier Boy & Homelander didn't have any sort of sexual relations. What happened in the comics was a sexual assault. That was Solder Boy #3. That character was a bumbling idiot, subservient to Homelander who got manipulated by him. It's also not logical for the show to have that kind of relationship of SB & HL. Homelander doesn't have that kink that is shown in the comics. Also, soldier boy in the show looks like has a dominating personality as opposed to of an idiot.

What Ackles is playing is Soldier Boy #1, the one fought in WW2 & as mentioned above, he is the only one to ever exist in the world of TV Show.

However, both of these characters have a lot of similarities. They are both powerful, egotistical, narcissistic, pathetic male superheroes. The difference is the situations they will be in. Homelander is currently in a problematic situation as his issue with wanting validation are bare open. He is emotionally at its weakest point. He wants to be loved. He longs for validation from the public which Maeve uses to threaten him. As he was made in a lab, he didn't have a normal childhood. He didn't have friends or anything. However, Soldier Boy was given Compound V when he was an adult. That means he might not require the same kind of validation. He is a very self-assured man. Also, since he was around in public life for decades, he has received love for years. So he not only he is physically strong, he might be emotionally capable against Homelander.

S3 might create a problem of Power Struggle.

Homelander might struggle to keep his head strong & possibly be threatened by Soldier Boy. Since the latter seems very confident, he might be able to take his position in Vought back. In the S2 premiere, we get to see how Homelander thinks of himself as indispensable for Vought as a company & how Stan Edgar shuts him down. Now think about how Homelander will react when Vought's original golden boy comes back & takes his what he thinks is his. There is a power struggle here. It's likely that Soldier Boy might corner him because of how popular he is in the public and how Homelander wants that same love that SB is getting. S3 might present a situation in front of him when a supe who might almost be as powerful as him & emotionally stronger than him kind of threatens both his power and position.

Soldier Boy and Stormfront

Speaking of Stormfront, Eric Kripke mentioned in a TV guide article that Soldier Boy had a connection with her when she was Liberty. Now both of them were created at the same time by the same man. Liberty was married to Frederick Vought but he then joined the Allies & injected Soldier Boy with Compound V. Now they are basically two sides of the same coin.

Some of this is from articles with Kripke's description of the character, some of them are common theories that have floated around & some of it is my predictions about what direction the character's storyline can take. This is majorly based on everything I have read, heard or watched. It doesn't mean that any of it will turn out the way it's written here. But I still hope this is helpful.

Anyway, I am very excited to see Jensen in this new role. I know he will rock it and I can't wait.

Some Articles I took into consideration -

[dreamingofscully]

6x06. “How the Ghosts Stole Christmas” - X-Files Rewatch

I wrote a lot about this episode, I hope you enjoy! Really thought this one gave us a ton of insight into M&S.

Mulder’s excuse to invite Scully out with him - a haunted house. He just wants to spend time with her. He’s feeling lonely. For some reason he’s not spending Christmas with anyone - not his mom, not the Gunmen. Even if he was, she’s the person he most wants to spend it with.

Mulder does his very best to entertain Scully with a ghost story. He’s being very seductive, but I don’t think he’s too serious about it - just wants her to spend time with him desperately. 

When Mulder describes Maurice (“brooding but heroic”) and Lyda (“a sublime beauty with a light that seemed to follow her wherever she went”) - I mean, c’mon, he’s describing THEM. 

“Driven by a tragic fear of separation they forged a lovers' pact so that they might spend eternity together and not spend one precious Christmas apart.”

HELLO?!

Even though Scully has somewhere to be, Mulder’s pull on her is irresistible. She has a family, a gift-opening, many traditions that she loves to take part in, SOMEWHERE ELSE TO BE, but she comes to see Mulder anyway. She protests, tries to leave, but only because she thinks Mulder also has plans, has people to spend the holidays with. Scully loves a good story, and this one hits close to home - scary, romantic and tragic.

Scully’s long monologue about why fearing ghosts is irrational, what it represents. She’s thought about it a LOT. She enjoys the thrill she gets from fear but also enjoys being able to explain it, put it in a box, conquer it.

It appears on the outside that Mulder is being selfish on inviting her here, occupying her time on a date where she has places to be, that he’s being insensitive. But the opposite is actually true. How difficult is Christmas going to be for Scully this year? To be around her family and remember her loss. To spend time with her nephew and having to hide her sorrow at the child she barely knew that was taken from her. To be expected to be full of Christmas cheer when all she wants to do is hide from the world, to yell and cry with anger and sadness. Mulder knows this, but doesn’t acknowledge it. He distracts her with ghosts, and it is the most wonderful thing he could do.

I love the contrast between Mulder and Scully meeting the ghosts, on experiencing the scary haunted house. Mulder is fascinated, while Scully is terrified. An incredible parallel to their experiences with the paranormal - Mulder just wants to know more but Scully rationalizes it to try to dispel her fears.

“Alright, I’m afraid. But it’s an irrational fear.” - Scully (Her first of three admissions this episode.)

This is a wonderful season to explore Scully’s fears. She is terrified of the unknown, of what she can’t explain rationally, which drives her stubbornness all throughout the next few seasons. It’s frustrating for Mulder, he doesn’t understand why she’s so resistant to believe even if she’s seen things she can’t deny, but it all stems from this fear. She doesn’t fully overcome it until much, much later (“all things”, I believe).

Mulder’s “I got your back” when Scully’s about to check out something strange/scary. Hilarious, and a simple attempt at humour. An attempt to show that Scully is the braver one. He might be less scared, but he pushes her, wants her to explore, and while Scully is afraid SHE is the one to open the door because HE pushes her to do so, because she needs to explain things to conquer her fear. She likes that about him, about their relationship. He gives her strength and courage to overcome her fears.

Scully gets into the next room, is comforted by evidence of the mundane. The wound clock, the fire that just went out. This place isn’t haunted, it’s just occupied.

Mulder is such a goofball. Enjoying pranking/scaring Scully, teasing her. He touches her shoulder. He calls her on her fears - that “Rationally, you've been in much more dangerous situations”. In a horror movie, Mulder would be the one doing all the things that YOU SHOULD NOT DO. Scully realizes this, haha.

Scully’s hand on his arm when they realize that the corpses are themselves. It’s meant to scare them, to make them believe something will happen to them. So the things that come later will be more believable and they’ll be more susceptible to Maurice and Lyda’s manipulations.

The psychoanalysis of Mulder and Scully.

A lot of these insights are accurate, but some of them reflect only what they FEAR is the truth.

Maurice → Mulder

I’m just going to comment here that Mulder is wearing my favourite outfit. Leather jacket, t-shirt and jeans. Hnnnnnnnnng.

“Are you overcome by the impulse to make everyone believe you?”

The one person he wants to believe him the most is extremely resistant to it. She says she believes him, but she can’t quite admit it to herself. This hurts him. 

“Narcissistic, overzealous, self-righteous egomaniac.”

Overzealous, yes, and perhaps self-righteous but I don’t agree with the others. Mulder would be WORRIED about the other things though. That he is too self-centered, that his personal quest has taken so much from Scully. He views himself as selfish, and undeserving of love and companionship because of it.

“You kindly think of yourself as single-minded but you're prone to obsessive compulsiveness workaholism, antisocialism... Fertile fields for the descent into total wacko breakdown.”

Single-minded: YES

Obsessive: YES; compulsive to the extent that he is impulsive and spontaneous when it comes to his quest, but not OCD

Workaholism: YES - Mulder doesn’t ever NOT work, as long as it’s associated with his obsession. He’s always at the bureau, or working at home, or dragging Scully to investigate mysterious things on the weekend.

Antisocialism: YES - He doesn’t care what other people think, doesn’t have much of a social life outside of his carefully chosen friends

Total wacko breakdown: he jokes about his mental stability, that he belongs in a mental institution, that they’d lock him up if he went there, that Scully could see him tied down on a bed. But in reality he is very stable emotionally - with all of the trauma he encounters he is very resilient, bounces back, pursues his quest

“You probably consider yourself passionate, serious, misunderstood. Am I right?”

YES. He doesn’t mind that people don’t get him, because he knows he’s on the right path. His joking and humour only covers up his vulnerability, otherwise he is very serious about most things.

“Most people would rather stick their fingers in a wall socket than spend a minute with you.”

OOF. This hurts him, hits home, gets right down to the core of his greatest fear, of being alone.

He brings up Scully, that he’s not actually alone. He didn’t take her car keys, but the ONLY REASON SHE’S IN THE HOUSE IS BECAUSE THEY WERE TAKEN. 

And where is she? “BEHIND A BRICK WALL.” One of their own construction - mainly Mulder’s.

“You know why you do it-- listen endlessly to her droning rationalizations. 'Cause you're afraid. Afraid of the loneliness. Am I right?”

This is why Mulder, after his frustration in “The Beginning”, is more accepting of her disbelief. He makes very good points about why she can’t believe in that episode, but he doesn’t really push her on it afterwards - because the alternative is loneliness. (He DOES know that the debate is necessary for their process, but also that her denials are unreasonable at this point, after what they saw.)

If he pushes her too much, will she leave?

Lyda → Scully

Her hand shaking when holding her gun is just perfection. I love how she calms, her hand steadies, but then starts trembling again when Lyda starts making strange insights, knows things she shouldn’t.

“You must have an awful small life. Spending your Christmas Eve with him... Running around chasing things you don't even believe in.”

Again, Scully wants more out of life. She wants to “get out of the car”, wants to experience family, intimacy, have a partner to share her life with. That Mulder seems incompatible with those things, that he could never settle down and stop chasing things in the dark.

“I can see it in your face... The fear... The conflicted yearnings... A subconscious desire to find fulfillment through another. Intimacy through co-dependency.”

Feeling that she can’t obtain intimacy with Mulder, she finds satisfaction just being with him, working with him, being NEEDED.

“Maybe you repress the truth about why you're really here pretending it's out of duty or loyalty-- unable to admit your dirty little secret. Your only joy in life is proving him wrong.”

This isn’t true, she loves working with Mulder, and believes her rationalizations only serve to build him up (they do). Recent tension between them would make her fear that Mulder thinks this way - that she has no purpose in their quest. Her unwillingness to believe, that it’s only about wanting to be right, will only serve to drive him away.

I love that Scully faints from fear at seeing the holes in Lyda’s stomach and Maurice’s head. When confronted with something SO UNBELIEVABLE, something that cannot be denied or rationalized or put in a box she just shuts down.

Lyda → Mulder

“I was young and beautiful once, just like your partner.” Any acknowledgement of Scully’s beauty just makes me 😍

“Maybe you two should have discussed your real feelings before you came out here.”

Heck, yeah! But Mulder can’t let himself. Even if he knew Scully felt the same about him, he doesn’t deserve to be loved by her.

Comparing Mulder’s reaction to seeing the hole in Lyda’s stomach to Scully’s. He’s disgusted because he accepts it as reality as a matter of course, while Scully is (literally) scared out of her mind.

When Lyda suggests Scully would shoot herself, Mulder’s “I wouldn’t let her”. 😍

“We're not lovers.” - Mulder, said with a sigh “And this isn't a pure science. But you're both so attractive and there'll be a lot of time to work that out.” - Lyda

Ummmmmmmmmm… can we have ghost-Mulder and Scully AU fanfic please?

Maurice → Scully

Mulder as “dark and lonely” - suggesting that he took the car keys to keep her with him. The little nuggets of truth that Maurice and Lyda offer to Mulder and Scully make it easier to accept the other things - the fears that they have about each other.

He’s got no one this Christmas, and she had no idea. 😥

Maurice and Lyda trick Mulder and Scully

When she sees “Mulder”, she’s so relieved and happy.

When “Mulder” rants about loneliness. Scully doesn’t believe in it. She thinks they can change, that they can choose to not be lonely. (This comes up again in “Milagro”. A VERY SIGNIFICANT EPISODE. Hnnng.) 

“You’re scaring me.” - Scully (2)

Scully’s face when he’s about to shoot himself. 😥

Mulder finding “Scully” 😥

Crawling along the floor in their blood.

“Are you afraid, Mulder? I am.” - Scully (3)

They can’t shoot each other, even when thinking that the other did it to them.

Of course Mulder figures it out first. He’s more open to believing that this is an illusion, a trick. Something unreal and paranormal rather than the reality of them having shot each other. He reaches for her and helps her up, showing her the evidence in front of her face that this isn’t real. Touches her uninjured stomach, covered in blood.

Lily Tomlin as Lyda and Ed Asner as Maurice were amazing. I loved their playfulness. That this was a horror-comedy instead of just a tragic, scary story.

Back at Mulder’s apartment

“I don’t deserve to be so happy.” - on the television in Mulder’s apartment at the end. How sad. But it describes him so perfectly this season. He doesn’t believe he deserves happiness. That he got to spend some time with Scully was wonderful, but now he’s back in his lonely apartment wishing she was still there, but not thinking it should ever happen. He knows what makes him happy, sharing and spending time with Scully, but she has her own “normal” life that he can never be a part of, that he doesn’t DESERVE to be a part of no matter how desperately he craves it.

When she shows up, he’s delighted. That she wants to be there with him, enjoys spending time doing WHATEVER, even if she’s scared, or refuses to believe. She enjoys their connection just as much as him. She views him as an important person in her life, just as much as her family. He agrees with Scully that it didn’t happen, doesn’t push her on her stubbornness to not believe, because he’s just happy she’s here. He chooses the opposite of loneliness.

Their acknowledgement of the fears that they have. Mulder’s on being selfish, and Scully’s on her reasons for working with him. I love that they mention these things rather than the ones that are actually true.

They do some heavy gazing at each other when talking about their vulnerabilities. 😍

I love how bashful they are when giving each other presents. It’s so cute!

Scully loves presents. I just love that tidbit about her. I don’t think she’s materialistic, the present could be anything. She just loves that someone cares enough about her to get her something meaningful, she loves the anticipation of unwrapping and seeing what it is.

After they opened their gifts, I think Scully invited Mulder to her mom’s house. Knowing he has nowhere to be, no one to spend it with. I just can’t see her choosing to leave him alone, and she WANTS to be with him. WANTS to live a life where they are together for holidays and significant events, not just because of work.

[winterscaptain]

Has anyone asked for Director's Cut to Focused? Because I would love to hear about my new favorite installment, if you're still taking requests for these!

its under the cut, with my commentary in bold italics! thanks for asking for this babe!! i loved writing this one.

“Don’t get comfortable. There will be time to debrief on the plane.” Hotch’s eyes are trained on the monitor, where grainy security footage plays and replays an exceedingly casual murder in an underground subway station.

“Exceedingly casual murder” is probably one of my favorite phrases so far. 

Reid, entering behind you, squints at the monitor. “Where are we headed?”

“New York.”

Rossi advances on the monitor. “Five shootings in two weeks. It’s about time we got the call.”

You watch as Hotch replays the tape again. “Why the delay?”

Aaron doesn’t answer you, but rather addresses Derek. “I want to take Garcia with us. Hopefully they’ll give us access to their surveillance systems.”

He’s distracted, almost absent-minded. It’s odd.

“What do we know?” You try again with another question, and Emily dips her chin - she had the same one.

Redistributing canon lines is always a little difficult for me - I try to be as equitable as possible and give a nod to the person who originally delivered it. 

Also - it’s rough to find little dialogue tags for every moment where the entire team is talking!! I always just get the dialogue down and then go back and find little opportunities to indicate movement, attention, or anything else that tells us who’s talking. 

it’s so easy to get lost when you can’t “see” it!!

Hotch pauses the video, turning toward the rest of you - loosely circled around the table. “All the killings are mid-day. Single gunshot to the head with a .22.”

“Any witnesses?” As always, JJ looks for somewhere to go as soon as wheels are down.

She really doesn’t get paid enough.

There’s something odd in her voice and temperament this morning, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Now that you’re really awake and looking around, everyone's a little jumpy this morning. It doesn't help that the two most grounded people on the team are the most absent-minded of you all.

Yes, I'm including a bit of the really cool connection between Hotch and JJ - they’re such outliers 

“No.”

Spencer pipes up. “.22-caliber pistol’s only 152 decibels. New York streets and subways are routinely well over a hundred.”

“So,” you ask, “could it be such that possible witnesses don’t even clock it before the unsub’s already on their way?”

Spencer nods.

Derek shifts beside you. “They sound like mob hits.”

Aaron dips his chin, but says, “Except none of them have ties to organized crime.”

The rest of the facts and questions fly past you - no connection between victims, no communication or contact, surveillance footage that shows next to nothing, an establishment that the unsub is bold and well-trained.

Seems completely random.

Spencer voices your next thought. “Son of Sam all over again.”

So reading this back really makes me want to brush up my knowledge on the Son of Sam case - I read about it years ago and have almost entirely forgotten about it. Hmm. 

If I read through it I’ll probably liveblog it or something if anyone’s interested!

The grim look on Aaron’s face tells you all you need to know.

+++

Derek, Penelope, and Emily shoot the shit as they get on the plane, but you notice JJ staring forlornly out the window. You resolve to discover what that’s about as soon as possible. Having her down was odd…

...But she has been acting strange lately, not just today.

You sit beside Hotch, across from Reid as Rossi flips through photos of the victims.

Spencer makes astute observations about the continued pattern of, well, no pattern at all, while Hotch provides some remarks here and there.

One of them catches your attention. “It’s a joint FBI-NYPD taskforce?”

Yeah, because those always go over so well.

If I had a dime for anytime law enforcement agencies in a TV show refused to cooperate, I’d be the richest person alive (suck it, Bezos!)

And if I had a dime for anytime law enforcement agencies in real life refused to cooperate, I’d have an even BIGGER pile of money lmao

“Kate Joyner heads up the New York field office. She’s running point on the case and called me directly.” He calls out to JJ, who then informs the pilot you’re all ready to get wheels up. “Kate’s starting to butt heads with the local detectives and wanted a fresh set of eyes.”

There’s something in his voice you can’t place. History, maybe?

Another one of those “Reader sees right through Hotch” moments. I’ve always thought the connection between them presents itself in such a way that they can look at each other and find something deeper. 

It’s like they’re looking in the mirror, but instead of seeing their own reflection, they see something that is as familiar as their own reflection, rather than something identical. 

“Joyner, I know her,” Derek says. “She’s a Brit, right?”

Hotch shrugs. “Well, dual citizenship. Her father’s British, her mother’s American. She was a big deal at Scotland Yard before coming to the Bureau.”

You look over at him.

That’s a ridiculous amount of knowledge for someone who doesn’t work in the same state, Aaron.

Bitter, much, Reader? Jealous, perhaps? Hmm. 

“I heard she can be a little bit of a pain in the ass.” It’s a test. The defiant tip of Derek’s chin tells you as much.

Hotch takes the bait. “I didn’t think so.”

You can’t help it. “You know her?”

“We liaised when she was still at Scotland Yard.”

You look at Emily, who shrugs.

“And she’s good?” You wouldn’t call Dave’s tone skeptical, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was another test. He’s a lot subtler than Morgan.

Hotch looks back at Dave. “I think we’re lucky to have her.”

Yeah, I’m sure you do, Aaron. Sure. 

I LOVED exploring this dynamic between the team and Aaron and his defense of Kate. I really wish we had more information about their past. I made one up, anyway, but having something (anything) in canon would have been very illuminating. 

+++

You all step out of the elevator, and you stay closest to JJ. Her absent-mindedness had yet to leave her, and as the person closest to her age, you were doing your best to support her with your presence alone.

JJ leans toward you as you approach the center of the office. “Is it just me or does she look -”

“- exactly like Haley?” You finish JJ’s thought. “Yeah.”

I REALLY wanted to have Reader be right there with JJ when this happened. I love a finished-sentence moment, and this seemed like a great opportunity to put one in. 

There’s a little smile you can see on Aaron’s face, just touching his profile. Agent Joyner has one too, and it makes you feel...something.

Whatever it is, it isn’t comfortable.

Damn, Reader. You really aren’t acknowledging your feelings, are you? 

Ah, well. It’ll be another few years before you figure that one out. 

“Kate.”

“Aaron. How’ve you been?”

You take another glance at JJ. She seems to have the same thought as you.

First name basis? How close are they?

“Well, thank you. This is my team.” He introduces you all one by one, and you attempt to plaster a polite smile on your face, just like everyone else. Derek’s the only one who doesn’t make an effort, and you tap the side of his shoe with your foot.

The friendship between Reader and Derek strikes again! That was another fun element to explore in this installment, especially when tensions get high. 

Penelope gets settled right away, and the NYPD detectives approach shortly after that. Of course, they start with a snide remark at Spencer. Your hackles rise, and you take a little huff of a breath.

Calm down.

Even though Spencer is a year (or at least a couple of months) older than Reader for the sake of the timeline, I’d like to think there’s a protective element that flows both ways in their relationship.

Kate introduces Detectives Brustin and Cooper. Dave gets right to the point, doing his best to establish baseline rapport.

It doesn’t work.

You don’t notice that you’ve crept closer to Aaron throughout the proceedings, now standing just off his shoulder, next to Emily, until Kate leans into him. “Can I have a word with you in private?”

The crumpling of your brow is quick, and you hope nobody noticed. Emily’s head, whirling around to look at Derek, is far less subtle.

I love that Emily is simultaneously the best liar (sometimes) and also about as subtle as a gun. 

“Sure.”

Emily tracks back to JJ, who looks confused. In a hushed and suggestive tone, she tells her, “They...liaised when she was at Scotland Yard.”

You hide your laugh in your shoulder, covering your movement with an attempt to adjust your backpack.

Derek steps up behind you. “Let me get that for you, kiddo.”

Somewhere along the line I got soft and Derek just started calling Reader “kiddo” and never stopped. 

You look up at him, hard-pressed to keep your mirth to yourself. A little smile plays at the edge of his lips as well. He turns you around when he’s done pretending to be helpful, holding you in the little huddle that develops between the rest of you and the NYPD detectives.

Derek’s eyes keep flickering to Kate’s office, where she and Hotch chat informally and perhaps even fondly, to an extent. Heat rises in your cheeks.

Get over yourself.

Will Reader admit love for Hotch? NO! Does it affect them every moment of every day? YES!

+++

You attempt to ignore the sheer amount of time Aaron spends looking over Kate’s shoulder behind her desk. Tearing your eyes from her office window, you return to your task.

The whiteboard marker in your hand is seeing lots of use as you follow Spencer’s instructions, tracing lines between key points, making notes, etc. Cooper’s banter with Emily puts a little smile on your face.

I adore Cooper. I think he’s such a great character and I was really sad that he never came back. I feel like he’s Emily’s Blackwolf - there’s a fun and actually challenging banter between them that’s really special. I wish we had more of it. 

“Anti-geographical profiling? Now you wonder why we’re so skeptical?” Cooper’s voice is full of play, but there’s a very real concern behind it.

Emily laughs, but then explains, “This unsub’s organized. He strikes at the same time of day, he knows where the cameras are placed. That means he’s doing his own surveillance.”

You offer your two cents in support of Spencer, who outlines the difference between need-motivated killers and organized killers. Cooper looks a little impressed by the time you add, “So, essentially, we need to look everywhere this unsub isn’t to find where he lives. He has a comfort zone, and we just have to find it.”

“What are we finding?” Hotch and Kate roll out of her office, and he settles beside you, peering at the map.

He’s drawn to Reader like a magnet and Kate 100% notices. 

You look over your shoulder at him. “He’s organized, so we’ve redirected to an anti-geographical profile.”

“Keep looking.” He turns on his heel and walks out the door, Kate trailing behind him with a confidence that tightens your jaw.

Maybe Derek was right. Maybe she is a pain in the ass.

+++

You keep your eyes up as Rossi and Hotch inspect the body on the busy New York street. Your mind wanders to a lecture at the academy, the voice of the late Jennifer Shepard echoing through your head.

“Always watch the watchers.”

For those of you that caught this reference - well done!! It’s an NCIS reference to Gibbs’s rules, and Jenny Shepard is THE Jenny Shepard. 

I wanted to open a back door to link the NCIS world with the CM world and give us the crossover episode of which we were deprived. 

But then again, she’d always backed it up with another story about “the man with all the rules” to undermine the rules in question. The stories did more than make you laugh - they helped you remember.

I love the thought of Jenny making fun of Gibbs behind his back. Their relationship is so special to me and I am very excited to include a lil bit of our favorite MCRT in this universe. 

(If you’re not into NCIS, no worries! Their inclusion will be few and far between, with very little context necessary.) 

“See anything?” Hotch looks up, not at you, but you know you have his attention.

You shake your head, your eyes still on the crowd. “Nothing obvious.”

He hums, and tunes back in as Derek says, “From the placement of that camera, odds are the only view they’re gonna get is the back of his head.”

“Let’s not be too quick to decide what we do or don’t have.” Kate meets Derek’s eyes and stares him down. You bristle, but Hotch turns just the smallest bit toward you, reminding you to behave.

Another silent conversation? Absolutely. 

The detective makes another snide remark as Kate brushes past the rest of you.

Derek turns toward Hotch, and you step back, giving them the illusion of privacy. “You mind telling me why I’m catching attitude from her?”

Because you’re better at your job? Because you don’t have a chip on your shoulder the size of the Atlantic? Because you probably haven’t maybe slept with our unit chief, maybe?

“FBI brass has made it clear to her that if she doesn’t bring this case home, she’s gonna be reassigned. And you are at the top of the list to replace her.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Aaron squints a little, but his words are deeply genuine. “Why should you be surprised? You’re good at your job. People notice that.”

Okay the way that Aaron actually takes a second to acknowledge Morgan in this scene is amazing. I love it. It just brings so much joy to my heart. 

Even though Hotch is totally being an asshole this episode and clearly playing favorites, he really delivers this line in a way that makes it sound like most obvious think in the world. Like “of course, morgan. you’re so good at this why wouldn’t people notice” and the implication is that he notices and in conclusion, i’m soft. 

He’s right.

“What happened to the Bureau patting itself on the back from stealing her away from Scotland Yard?”

Hotch shakes his head and sighs. “I don’t know. Politics here are different. And you can see she doesn’t pull punches.” He walks away, and Derek looks over his shoulder at you.

With a little smile, you say, “He’s right, you know.”

“You’re a terrible ass-kisser, kid.”

Nevertheless, he taps your shoulder with his knuckle and you both make your way to Rossi, examining a tarot card.

I LOVE READER AND DEREK!!!

+++

“We’ve got more than one unsub.” Hotch’s tone is more than defeated, and you peer further over his shoulder, your fingers pressing lightly into the back of his arm for balance.

I just had to include some kind of casual touching here because it’s just my favorite thing in the whole world. 

Rossi circles the desk. “So, we have more than one unsub. What does that tell us?”

“Most teams stick together,” Spencer says. “Ng and Lake. The Krays. Bittaker and Norris. They don’t usually kill separately.”

Derek is next, offering, “Could be some kind of gang initiation.”

Emily and JJ volley about gang operations and local task forces for a moment before Kate asks. “Do you think we have enough for a working profile?”

You startle a little. She’s closer than you thought, on the other side of Hotch. You lean around him, the soft wool of his suit sleeve still under your fingers. “Broad strokes, maybe. Nothing specific, yet.”

Hotch makes a few assignments, but you’re focused on Derek. As you suspected, he has an idea. “I think we should get out on the streets.”

This is one of my favorite moments in all of CM. I think it’s such an incredible microcosm of Derek and Aaron’s relationship, both personally and professionally. 

Also unsurprising, Kate has an immediate rebuttal. “I brought you here to create a profile.”

“Which we can give in the morning, and they can share it with the afternoon shift.”

She huffs. “We’ve allocated every extra man we have.” You don’t miss the warning glance Hotch shoots Derek or the way Derek ignores it. That was a fun catch on my third rewatch trying to write this episode. “This is New York City. It’s not like adding a few more people is gonna blanket the city.”

“I understand it’s a long shot. But these guys, they hit at mid-day. We could target ingress and egress to particular neighborhoods. Position us near express stops - 14th, 42nd, 59th -”

“Morgan. It’s not your call.” Hotch’s rebuke is sharp, surprising.

You inhale sharply and tuck your lip between your teeth, retracting your hand.

Touch is a really important element to me in this story. Every touch is a conscious choice, and it always means something. When touch is added or removed between Hotch and Reader, something has changed. 

This is gonna be a long case.

+++

Thankfully, you’re all headed back to the hotel in fairly short order. Hotch has all but ordered Kate to bed, and you try not to let your thoughts stray too far in response.

Spencer’s eyes wander up, and you follow them. “JJ -”

Will?

You’d only met him once but like him well enough. He was polite, pleasant, and even funny. Seeing as you hadn’t heard much about him in the last few months, you assumed JJ had broken it off.

Guess not.

I love Will. Like as much as I love Jemily and Jotch, Will is just so normal? It’s kind of refreshing. 

I also love how he does what Derek can’t do until season 11 and Hotch can’t do at all - he puts her before his career and I just adore him for it. 

She turns. “Will.”

“Hey,” he says, “took a shot and flew to D.C. but it didn’t work. I figured I’d train up to New York - only a few more hours.”

Will LionsMagne with the crazy accent saying things really tickles me, y’all. He really do be talking absolute nonsense. 

Hotch looks a little surprised, which probably means you do too. He extends his hand. “Detective.”

Will takes it. “I’m sorry for showing up like this. I know you’re working. But, um…” He drops his voice. “I can’t stand you being on this case and me not being here - not with what’s going on.”

You look at JJ, who looks a little uncomfortable, and then Hotch, who looks a little confused. Aaron’s the first one to speak, and you’re more than a little touched by the concern in his voice as he addresses JJ and JJ alone. “Is there a problem?”

Oop! Posessive!Protective!Hotch makes an appearance!

Will dips his head, and you know he’s disappointed.

What the hell is going on?

She turns toward the team. With a little laugh, she says, “I’m pregnant.”

Hotch freezes, and you step close to him as Emily congratulates her. Will extends his hand and Hotch shakes it again. “I’ve asked JJ to marry me.”

JJ whirls around, and there’s a warning in her voice. “Will.”

“We’re, ah, working out some kinks.”

Yeah, I’m sure you are. 

“We’ll, um” Aaron says, coming back to himself, “give you both some privacy.” He nods and steps away. You follow close behind him, but you fall back as JJ hops after him.

“Hotch -”

There’s something in his voice you’ve never heard before when he replies. “JJ, you could have told me.” He almost sounds...hurt? Your brow crumples, and you try to stay out of his eye line as they chat.

If I didn’t shove my foot in the Jotch door here, I wouldn’t be me, now would I? 

There is absolutely NO platonic explanation for Hotch’s reaction in this scene. It’s so much more than a boss/colleague relationship in this moment. He’s so human and so affected by the news that it’s almost impossible for me to believe he doesn’t feel anything more for JJ. 

So even in this universe, as much as he loves Reader, young!JJ is a hot commodity. 

Pin that for later...

“I know.”

“I understand if you need to take some time.”

“No, I want to be here.” She’s firm in her conviction, and you can’t say you’d be any different if you were in any similar situation - injury, illness, otherwise.

“Okay. Seven AM.”

She nods and turns back to Will while Hotch continues toward the elevators. The rest of the team passes ahead of you, leaping into the open lift. Aaron hangs back and you follow his lead, letting the doors close.

Reader always knows when to stay. 

“Are you okay?”

He sighs. “Yeah. Just unexpected.”

Taking a little leap, you step close to him in a show of camaraderie. He’d never let on, but he needs contact sometimes. You might even go so far as to say the poor man is touch-starved.

That’s the understatement of the century. 

He wraps his arm around you, and you bite back a pleased smile, feeling more than a little chuffed. You examine his profile. “What’s on your mind?”

Remember when I was talking about the significance of touch? Yep. 

His shrug says many things. His sigh says more.

“Yeah,” you say. “I know.”

I didn’t add silent dialogue here, because I think even if Hotch tried, he wouldn’t know what to communicate, even non-verbally. It’s the emotional center of his tells that really 

+++

“We’re not having that discussion, right now.” Hotch’s cutoff is flat, and it shoots irritation through you.

Your brow furrows, and you sputter for a second before turning on him. “What’s with you? That’s like the sixth time you’ve shut me down today.”

Hotch opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, Kate’s voice chirps from behind you.

“Are all your younger agents this insubordinate, Aaron, or is it limited to this one?”

This is the soundbyte that popped into my head when I first thought to write this episode!! Kate making a stink about Reader’s age in addition to clearly and deliberatly misunderstanding the relationship with Hotch was a critical breaking point for me.

You grit your teeth, and blatantly ignore the apology blossoming in Hotch’s eyes as you say, “Excuse me, sir.” You turn your head, not quite looking at Kate. “Agent Joyner.” You brush past Hotch, almost shoulder-checking him, and leave the room. The door shuts loudly behind you.

I NEEDED Hotch to apologize, or at least try to, before Reader left the room. He realized in that moment that he’s opened a door for Kate to cross the line he’s already stepped on and given precedent for her to treat his team with the same harshness he has. 

Mans is learning!!

Derek looks up, and you wave him off as he rises to follow.

Throwing the stairway door open, you fly down two flights of stairs before sitting heavily upon the landing. You throw your blazer off, the heat under the fabric only fueling your anger.

Your hands cover your face and you manage three deep breaths before tears press in at your eyes. Molten humiliation courses through you, your face hot and hands shaking.

It’s not fair to expect Kate to understand the rapport you have with Hotch, why you can push him inexplicably further than the rest of your team. This was stuck a struggle to articulate and I was SO happy when I finally got it! It’s not fair, but you still feel betrayed by Hotch’s accommodation of her insecurity and Kate’s own ridiculousness.

The lack of sleep doesn’t help.

A few relevant thoughts regarding the profile float through your head and you pin them for later.

The door opens two floors above, and you hear Aaron’s familiar footsteps hesitate before they slowly descend to your level. You keep your face pressed into your hands as he sits beside you, resting his arms on his knees.

The addition of an audio input here, instead of a visual one, was important to me. I needed everyone to feel that they implicitly know when it’s the other approaching them on sound alone. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you today.”

You sniff, but don’t answer. He waits for you, a few minutes passing in silence, but you don’t have anything to say.

“I’ve done my best to make Kate feel supported, but I -” he huffs, and you know he’s working hard to properly articulate his feelings. You appreciate it. “I’ve failed both you and Morgan in the process. I’ve explained the situation to him, but I didn’t speak to you before I…” He trails off. “For that, I’m sorry.”

He works so hard :’) 

I love that Hotch got better about articulating his emotions and asking for help as the seasons go on. He’s still absolute shit at it, but looking back, he was so much worse. 

You drop your hands from your face, wiping at the evidence of your anger. “Just...remember who’s on your team, would you?”

“I do.”

“Then -” You throw your arms up and huff at him, his response inspiring a new wave of irritation in your chest. “Then why the fuck are you riding my ass about this shit today? You haven’t taken a single one of my ideas, and all but one has been really good.”

He sighs. “I know. I also know that you can take it. I trust you to be resilient in difficult political situations such as this one. I don’t have that same trust in Kate right now.” He pauses and you watch his left thumb worry a track back and forth over the knuckle of his middle finger. I love this particular habit of Tom’s that snuck its way into Hotch’s characterization. I always try to note it when I can. Your eyes wander to the barely-noticeable tan line where his wedding ring used to sit. With a start, you realize you didn’t notice its absence and you don’t know when he took it off. When he speaks again, your eyes snap back to your feet. “Your ability to step away instead of rightfully lashing out at Kate speaks to your excellence and professionalism in your role, and shows me my faith is not misplaced.”

“My faith is not misplaced” was another line I’ve been waiting to use!

You look at him, finding his brown eyes soft and apologetic. “Thanks.”

He grabs your blazer off the ground and stands. He straightens his suit jacket, offering you a hand. You take it and rise, using the back of your other hand to rid yourself entirely of tears.

With gentle hands, he slips your blazer over your shoulders, fixing the collar and brushing debris off the back. You let him fuss, knowing all the while his concern is another apology.

I love all the little ways Hotch apologizes, in canon and in my world here. He’s so shit at expressing himself that, just like his smiles, you have to look for his “sorrys” in other ways. 

“It’s far too organized to be just organized crime, by the way,” you inform him casually, as if remarking on the weather.

The trope of “I’m not mad at you anymore so I’m gonna casually solve this case real quick” is one of my favorites. 

He looks almost startled. “What?”

You tug on his arm and take the stairs two at a time back up to Kate’s floor. “Look.” He follows you as you burst back through both sets of doors into the conference room, stepping in front of Kate for access to the map. “We have more than one unsub. They’ve attacked different neighborhoods across Manhattan - all different demographic and socio-economic backgrounds. They’re trying to send a message, and each attack is a play to build their audience. If anything, our presence tells them that it’s working.”

I rehearsed this mini-logue in my head for AGES before writing it down. These are always fairly difficult for me - I want to put it in Reader’s “voice” (meaning, not anyone else’s) while staying true to the pattern and linguistic profile (if you’ll forgive me) of the show. 

A look of realization crosses Hotch’s face, and he presses a hand to your shoulder, his fingertips squeezing just a little before he lets go. “Well done.” He turns to Kate. “We’re ready to update the working profile.”

Reader redeemed herself and I simply couldn’t have Kate be a graceful “loser” here. We’ve already seen her have far too much pride and ego for her own good. 

You keep your eyes trained on Aaron, but Kate’s clenched jaw doesn’t escape your notice.

+++

“Focused? From where I’m standing, your focus is on her.”

It’s finally come to a head. Derek has absolutely lost it, rightfully so, in the middle of the federal building, while Hotch tries to keep the peace, and Kate looks appropriately chastised.

This is my favorite verbal fight in almost all of Criminal Minds. Derek goes OFF and I am so proud of him for it because he’s sO RIGHT

You reach for Derek’s elbow with gentle fingers, but he shakes you off.

“Take a walk. Now.” Aaron’s tone is nothing to trifle with, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Fuck.

U know when Hotch get’s into that “do the math” “sit down and shut up” or “try hARDER” tone that things hit the fan, but its’ the quiet anger that really gets me in this scene. 

“Derek. C’mon.” You yank once on his sleeve and lead him out the doors. He’s pissed, almost vibrating with energy.

You look over your shoulder exactly once to check on Aaron, who leans heavily over a desk. When he looks up, you turn your head before he can meet your gaze.

Yes, it’s a punishment. Yes, he knows it. He'll get your attention once he’s earned it again.

Derek cools off a little once you get outside, and he leads the way to the hotel bar. You’re sure you'd be better off returning to your post upstairs, but he needs you more than anyone else right now.

You also don’t trust yourself to be in the same room as Aaron - the likelihood of losing your usually-endless patience with him is dangerously high. At this rate, you’d get yourself a first-class ticket to Suspension City - at worst ending with your removal from the unit.

There was no way on this green earth that you’d end up off the unit of Hotch had any say, but your exhausted brain was only giving you the worst-case scenario at the moment.

Even tired!Reader know’s he’ll never let them leave :’)

Fun Fact: There were so many times where I considered taking Reader off the team, but it never felt quite right. 

He sits heavily on a barstool and orders a Stella. You don’t comment on his choice to drink while on the clock. You take a water, and wait for him to speak. He doesn’t touch his beer.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course.”

“You should go back.”

Looking up, you see Rossi looking through the doors. “Alright, but you’re not getting out of anything.” By the time you’ve finished, Dave is at Derek’s other side, getting comfortable. You press a hand to Derek’s shoulder, leaving them alone.

You take a few deep breaths before returning to the proper floor. Kate is in her office with Hotch over her shoulder.

He looks up when you walk in. How’s Morgan?

“He’ll be back.”

:) Aimz is right. Silent conversations make the AJF world go ‘round.

+++

You reach Emily with Derek and JJ, and she looks flustered.

“Are you okay?” Derek takes stock of Emily, but you figure out there’s nothing to know about Cooper.

Emily walks through the moments before and during the shooting, growing increasingly intense. You watch her as Derek digs and digs - finding the right questions for the answers she wants to share.

Derek is SO good at framing questions to get the answers he needs to keep going. I love him. 

“Wait,” you ask. “You think he deliberately shot someone where he could be caught?”

“What if he did?” Her eyes are wild, angry. “What if they chose this spot because we were here?”

“What are you thinking?” Derek leans forward, searching her face for answers.

She enumerates her points. “He had no ID on him. He waited until We caught up to him. He was strangely calm- It’s almost like suicide by cop.”

“Why?” You hear yourself ask. “Why would he do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe to make us think everything was finished.”

You look at Derek. He looks back at you.

“We need to walk back through this profile.”

Just then, Aaron and Kate dip under the police tape and make a beeline for Rossi and Reid. Dave looks grim and you can’t hear what they’re saying, but you’re sure they’ve come to the same conclusion as you.

Terrorism.

+++

“So much for theory.” Dave uncrosses his arms and the room leaps into action.

Kate grabs her blazer and looks at Aaron. “We need to hit the ground running.”

“I'm gonna head to the hospital,” Emily says, already headed for the door. “I'll check on Cooper and brief detective Brustin.”

“Good.” Aaron makes the rest of the assignments. “Dave, will you go talk to the commissioner?” He assigns you and Derek to Homeland Security for a briefing, and you grab your things. You will be Derek’s shadow for the duration, and you’re more than happy you’re with him.

So why does something feel...wrong?

You look at Aaron, and his brow is furrowed. He meets your eyes. What’s wrong?

I don’t know.

His mouth presses into a thin line. This first, then that.

Did I mean to heavily imply that Reader knows something is going to happen to Hotch without really knowing it? Absolutely. 

I almost had Reader go with Kate and Aaron here, but I thought the dramatic tension would be better if she went with Derek, and it also gives Hotch an excuse to give Derek a peace offering of some kind that would smooth things over between them. 

You nod, and he starts talking again. “Kate and I will go talk to the mayor And we'll meet back here As soon as possible.”

“One advantage That we have right now is that they don't know we know they're watching.”

For once, you agree with Kate. It’s about damn time.

+++

You get into the car with Derek and head toward the HLS field office.

“I’m proud of you, kid. You’ve done well.”

Smiling a little, you thank him. “Though I do think we’ve pushed Hotch to the absolute limit this week, between the two of us.”

He rolls his eyes, speeding down the shockingly barren New York streets. “If one of us isn’t, who is?”

“Rossi.”

You both freeze as an explosion goes off. You don’t know where it is, but Derek turns around with a spectacular screech of tires.

“Derek...What -”

“We’re going back. That’s not good. Let’s go.” He guns the engine, and you’re on your way back to the federal building with sirens blaring.

HERE WE GO!! THE PHONE CALL!

This was hell to write and I was SO afraid it would be confusing, but I’m fairly pleased by how it turned out. 

His phone rings and he checks the caller ID as he answers. “Yeah. I'm still here.” He looks at you. “We’re still here.”

“Yes, you are. Thank God.”

Garcia.

“I'm almost back at the federal building. What the hell's going on?”

“Alright, we're going over the closed-circuit footage right now.” You can hear her faintly through the phone, and he puts her on speaker.

“Who else have you checked on?”

“You're the first. Rossi and Reid called me.”

“All right. Keep me on the line while you check on everyone else.”

Emily picks up next. “Is everyone ok?”

Garcia tells her she’s got the both of you on the line, and she’s already spoken to Rossi and Reid.

Your body is almost completely bowed toward Derek, twisted in the passenger seat. “Emily, where are you?”

“I'm following detective Brustin to one of the NYPD’s Critical Incident Command Posts.”

“One of them?” Garcia’s confusion is only a little frantic, and you more than sympathize with her tangent. Anything is a better thought than the one you’re all sharing at this very moment.

Derek explains the decentralization of the CICP’s following 9/11 - too many eggs in one basket.

Garcia cuts him off, getting back on track. “Has anyone talked to JJ?”

Emily answers her. “She was headed back to the hotel.”

“In an SUV?

“I think so. Stay with me a minute. I'll dial her mobile.”

JJ’s voicemail rings through Derek’s phone, and your heart sinks. “This is Agent Jareau, Communications Director for the FBI’s Behavioral--” It cuts off.

You lean over the center console. “What was that? What happened?”

Garcia’s voice is flustered when she answers, “It went dead mid-message.”

“Try her again. She's probably back at--” You lose Emily.

You lost all of them in the middle of a sentence, and all the blood drains out of your face. Derek drops his phone into one of the cupholders and reaches out. You grab his hand, holding it in both of yours.

Physical Touch! 

This is a nightmare.

Derek keeps driving, and you find a police barricade on your way back to the federal building. Derek throws the car into park and you both leap out of the car, flashing your badges at anyone who will look. You find the man in charge, but he tells you to get back to the federal building.

Hot anger flies through you.

Who does he think he is?

You stick close to Derek, but startle when you hear Hotch cry out. Pressing along the barricade, you call across the block. “Aaron! Aaron! We’re here!”

You get leave to go, and you and Derek sprint toward Aaron and Kate. He’s covered in blood, both his and Kate’s and you get on one side of him while Derek crouches on the other side of Kate. Your hands flutter over him for a moment, one of them landing on the nape of his neck. The softness of his hair is the same as it’s always been, and it grounds you.

PHYSICAL TOUCH!

“Aaron -”

He’s not looking at you. “Morgan, we've got to get her out of here.”

Derek throws his arm out of the side, outlining the situation. “They're not letting any ambulances down here till they clear the scene.” He turns to the “Kid, you gotta get behind the barricades. Let's go. Go!”

“Go, Sam.”

“Good luck.” The kid sprints off, and Derek draws Hotch’s focus again.

“Talk to me. Can we carry her?” He leans further over Kate, into Aaron’s eye line. “Hotch, can we carry her?”

“No, I tried. Morgan, she's gonna bleed to death if we don't get her out of here. We gotta do something.” The ache in his voice is horrible. You reach out, brushing some hair off Kate’s forehead. She’s cold to the touch, and you press your hand to the side of her face, willing your warmth into her.

“C’mon Kate.” You whisper to yourself. She’s still not your favorite person, but Aaron’s agony as he literally holds her body together tears your heart in two.

Not gonna say shit about shit, but this motif is coming back :)

Derek’s phone rings, and it’s Penelope. “Garcia, I got Hotch. But listen to me. You gotta get somebody down here right away, you hear me? Right now. What? You're absolutely sure?” Derek looks up, finding the kid standing by the shelled remains of the car. “Hotch. The kid. He's the bomber.”

“Go.” Aaron’s voice is defeated, and you hesitate as your body coils to chase after Derek. Aaron looks at you. “Please. Stay.”

I needed Reader to stay with Hotch because....I mean....there’s nobody else he’d ask

You nod, and tuck in close to him, keeping one hand on his arm and another on Kate’s cheek. An ambulance pulls up, and you’re more than relieved.

Hotch briefs the paramedic. “She's got an arterial bleed in her back and I'm doing my best to hold it closed.

“You ok?”

Isn’t that the question of the hour.

“I just want to get her out of here.”

That’s not a fucking answer, Aaron.

You let it go, for now. He’s a mess, but he’s alive and he’s conscious. That’s what’s important right now. You tune back in.

“You were calling for help and I couldn't listen anymore. My partner was too afraid to come in here with me.”

Aaron leans into Kate, and your heart pulls again. “Kate, we're gonna get you out of here. We're on our way out of here.”

You help as much as you can, following instructions and making sure Kate’s stable.

+++

When you’re all finished, you get into the passenger seat of the ambulance. Hotch is on autopilot and he shouldn’t be driving, but you’re ready to take over at a moment’s notice.

When you’re stopped at the emergency room entrance, you flash your credentials as Hotch explains the situation as clearly as he can. The Secret Service agent reluctantly waves you through. Kate’s crashing in the back, and Aaron’s agitation flies through the roof.

It’s a blur, but you finally end up in the hospital, shadowing Aaron. He collapses, and you cry out for help, holding his hands as he hits the ground.

Everything's happening so fast.

When will it end?

This is one of those “Stop the ride I want to get off” days where everything seems to just be flying at you all at once and it feels neverending. 

You know, like the state of the world right now (at least in the USA lmao)

+++

“Kiddo, where’s Hotch?” Derek comes flying through the doors of the ER, and you throw yourself into him.

“He’s fine. Massive trauma to his right ear and a shrapnel wound. Kate’s in surgery.”

There’s a commotion from behind the open door, and you both rush in when you hear Hotch’s voice.

You get in between Hotch and the attending, doing your best to calm him down. “Aaron, Hotch. Calm down. Slow down. You’re really hurt.”

The concern makes me soft. 

“Where’s Kate?”

You press your hands into his wrists, and he twists his arms, surprising you by gripping your forearms. PHYSICAL TOUCH! “She’s in surgery. Your go-bag is on its way. Nothing’s happened since the first blast.”

He looks somewhat placated but looks over at Derek. “Sam?”

“He’s dead.”

Hotch releases you. “Morgan, the profile's wrong. Call JJ.”

+++

“Are you ok?”

Yeah. I just want to understand why I'm still alive.” You help him with his vest, minding his shoulder. I needed someone to help Hotch with his vest in this scene and I’m so glad Reader was right there to help him ;) You’re not sure what’s wrong with it, but he’s favoring one over the other. He looks at you, and there are thanks in his brown eyes. You offer him a quick, soft smile but continue with your task, gently tightening the vest around his tender ribs, smoothing over the velcro with even pressure.

:)

You’re listening as they go along, talking signatures and bomb-making and all manner of horrific precedent. You pass two pieces of fresh cotton to Hotch, who immediately replaces the bloodied cotton in his right ear. He shakes his head with two deep blinks.

ACTS OF SERVICE!

His ears are ringing something stupid right now, I bet.

I wish I could do more.

Just be here. Do your job. That’s what you can do.

The way Reader has picked up on the things they KNOW Hotch will tell them? Immaculate. 

All at once, you figure out that the ambulance is the bomb. You spot Hotch as he moves (way too fast) down the hallway.

Goddamn it, Aaron.

I’ll take “Constant Frustration Regarding Your Injured Boss” for 800, Alex.

+++

The bastard slit his throat.

Fuck.

The look on Aaron’s face is nothing short of disgust, and you’re sure yours matches.

I was going to do more for this scene, but realized I didn’t need it. Who knew!

+++

You’re waiting for him when he walks out of the operating room. His eyes are hollow and they seem to look through you rather than at you.

“Hotch - Aaron - I’m so sorry.”

Take note of the use of first names in discussion with these two. It’s less significant in narration, but there’s always an intention when they’re speaking aloud to each other. 

You didn’t particularly like Kate (who does?), but you know how much he cared for her. His pain often feels like yours - even more frequently, you can't parse his from yours. While you didn’t expect to mourn her, you find that weight in your belly anyway. Your eyes mist up against your will, your breath hitching in your throat.

I love that his emotions affect Reader’s in such a real way. I wanted to lay the groundwork for 100 here and I don’t think I have to tell you why lmao 

He doesn’t say anything, and your voice is almost desperate when you ask, “What can I do?”

Brown eyes flicker around the room. He looks more like a caged animal in this moment than in any other you’ve ever seen. You approach him slowly, and you’re not sure if he heard you. There’s still blood on his neck from his ear, and you’re terrified he’s lost his hearing for good.

“Aaron?”

He finally acknowledges you when you’re close enough to him to take his hand. You catch him as he wilts, pressing a hand to the back of his head as he tucks his head into your neck.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Aaron.”

He mumbles something into your shoulder, and you lean back, holding him up with your hands on his biceps.

“What?”

“Call Haley. Tell her, please. They got along really well. She’d want to know.”

!!!!!!!!!! THIS MOMENT SURPRISED ME!!!!!!!

You nod and guide him to a chair. He sits heavily, tilting his head against the wall. Pulling your phone from your belt, you ask, “Do you want me to stay here?”

He nods, his eyes closed.

I’m soft. 

You dial the familiar number and hold the phone to your ear, settling down on his left so he can hear.

I love that the Hotchner house/Jess’s house is a familiar number :’) That detail kind of flowed out and I was really only aware of it when I was proofreading. 

Haley answers the phone, a question at the end of your name.

“Yeah, Haley, it’s me. Hi.”

“Hi. Is everything okay?”

You look at Aaron, who’s still and quiet beside you. “Not really.”

“I heard about the bombing in New York, the murders...Is everyone alright?”

“We’re alright. Aaron’s fine - some mild injuries but nothing serious.”

“Okay?” You hear the unspoken question. Then why are you calling?

“I was told you’d - um.” You take a deep breath, and it catches. Aaron flips his hand palm-up on his knee, and you take it. PHYSICAL TOUCH!! “I was told you were close with Kate Joyner, from the New York field office. She used to be at Scotland Yard?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” Her voice falters. “Wait. Oh, God…”

“Haley I’m so sorry.” You swallow some tears. “I’m so sorry, but she was killed in the bombing.”

You hear a shaky breath on the other side of the line. “Oh.” There’s a pause, and you suspect she has more to say. You’re right. “Aaron told you to call, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

She sighs. “Can I talk to him?”

You look over and he nods, releasing your hand and holding it out. “Yeah, he’s right here.” She says something else, and you put the phone back to your ear. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I just wanted to thank you. Thank you for telling me.”

I love Haley. I do. I love her. 

I’m SO mad at her but I love her. 

You nod to yourself. “Of course. Here’s Aaron.”

He takes the phone from you. An exhausted, “Hi,” leaves him.

“Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re alright.”

A little smile pulls at his lips. I love how much he loves her. Even thought their marriage didn’t work because they wanted/needed different things from each other, they love each other so much and I am so soft about it. “I’m alright. How’re you?”

Her bright laugh echoes faintly through the phone, but there’s a solemn edge to it. “You’re asking me how I am?”

His eyebrows raise, his eyes still closed. “Isn’t that polite?”

You can almost see her suppressed smile. “It is. I’m fine. Jessica and I just finished dinner and put Jack down for the night.”

“How’s Jack?”

You tune out, the exhaustion taking over. Aaron pats the seat on his other side and you shuffle around, tucking yourself under his open arm. I am so soft for this lil moment, y’all. I am a SAP. Leaning against his shoulder, you close your eyes, letting the voices of two divorced people who love each other very much lull you into something that feels a little like sleep.

The End!!! I hope y’all liked this installment of commentary!!

tagging: @ssaic-jareau @qvid-pro-qvo @joanofarkansass @forgottenword @hurricanejjareau

[whywishesarehorses]

Success Spoils a U.S. Program to Round Up Wild Horses

A New York Times Article, found here. (There’s a cool interactive video feature you should go check out.) This article shows some of the plight of the BLM and the Mustang - too many to handle, no population control, not enough adoptions, and no ability to downsize because of animal rights activists. It’s a no-win situation all around.

Article shown under the cut, to save y’alls dashes. Keep reading for pretty photos

By Dave Philipps       Oct. 14, 2016

OSAGE COUNTY, Okla. — As the sun set on the honey-colored prairie here, a herd of wild horses grazed belly deep in Indiangrass and big bluestem. On the next ridge, a dozen more horses nibbled in the pasture, and beyond them even more, dotting the hills almost as far as the eye could see.

The head of the Bureau of Land Management’s wild horse program, Dean Bolstad, tipped up his cowboy hat and looked out at the animals from a hilltop. “I love seeing this,” he said, “but it’s also an absolute anchor around our neck.”

The horses were grazing on a ranch the agency rents, one of 60 private ranches, corrals and feedlots where it stores the 46,000 wild horses it has removed from the West’s public lands. The cost: $49 million a year.

Trying to make that rent has pushed the wild horse program into crisis. The expense eats up 66 percent of the federal budget for managing wild horses, and it is expected to total more than $1 billion over the life of the herds. The program cannot afford to continue old management practices that created the problem in the first place, or afford to come up with solutions that might fix it.

In short, the agency cannot break its cycle of storing horses because it is too busy storing horses.

“We’re in a real pickle,” Mr. Bolstad said. “We have huge challenges ahead of us, and we don’t have the resources to respond.”

Spending a billion dollars on pastures is a symptom of a broader problem. The agency says there are far too many wild horses roaming the West, and it must limit them to stave off damage to fragile ecosystems. But it never found a strategy that does not put more horses on storage ranches.

Some critics say management must become broader and include other options, like fertility control drugs for horses in the wild. Others say policies that eliminated predators like wolves, which once helped keep the horse population in check, need to be reconsidered. Still others say it is time to kill horses to free up resources. Animal-rights groups, meanwhile, oppose any killing of horses.

The bureau has struggled to limit wild horse populations since Congress passed a law in 1971 protecting the wild horses and burros that roam patches of public land in 10 Western states, and whose numbers increase naturally every year. The agency says the land can support only about 27,000 animals, but these days, there are about 77,000.

Repeated government audits going back 26 years have warned the bureau to find alternatives to storing horses before the cost crippled the program, but it never has. For decades the bureau used helicopter roundups to thin herds, but it can now barely afford that because it spends so much on storing horses.

In recent years, the bureau tried fertility control drugs — administered through an annual shot delivered by dart gun — that would reduce the need for roundups. Now money for that has been spent on storing horses, too.

“The entire budget is tied up in feeding horses; we need to do something drastic, now,” said Ben Masters, a filmmaker who adopted seven wild horses and made a movie about riding them to Canada from Mexico. He now sits on the program’s nine-member advisory board.

In a phone interview from a wild horse area near Eureka, Nev., Mr. Masters described seeing thousands of acres damaged by overgrazing. “It’s totally degraded, and we need to save it, both for the horses and for the other wildlife.”

In September, the board voted 8 to 1 to kill the horses in storage. Mr. Masters said voting for the measure broke his heart. “It kills me. I’d love for there to be another way out, but I just don’t see it.”

After the vote, though, the bureau was flooded with outraged calls and emails, and officials quickly assured the public they had no plans to kill any horses. They have just signed contracts with ranches that can store 6,000 more horses.

Ginger Kathrens, a longtime wild horse advocate who sits on the bureau’s advisory board, cast the lone vote against killing the horses in storage, saying she favored increasing adoptions and finding places to put horses back out on the range. “There are lots of things the B.L.M. could do besides selling horses to kill buyers,” she said.

Federal law allows the agency to kill excess horses to maintain what it calls “a thriving natural ecological balance.” But regulators never took the step, in part fearing public reaction, and in part because Congress in recent years has added riders to various bills banning the killing of healthy wild horses.

Instead, the agency has encouraged people to adopt wild horses. But the number of people offering homes has rarely equaled the number of horses gathered in roundups.

The rest go to places like the Hughes Ranch, here in Oklahoma, where for about $2 per horse per day, Robert Hughes, a cattle rancher, maintains just over 4,000 horses on thousands of acres of prime grassland.

“I basically run an old folks home for horses,” he said with a chuckle as he looked out at the grazing herds. “They’re in good groceries right here, I can tell you that.”

Asked whether the agency should continue to store horses or euthanize them, he shook his head: “Hey, look, man, I’m in the grass-farming business.”

He said he did not have anything to do with policy. “If this deal ended, we’d get back into livestock in a big way.”

The agency now finds itself buffeted on all sides by lawsuits. Ranchers who share the range are demanding that horse numbers be brought down to prescribed levels. Animal rights groups are demanding an end to roundups and darting.

By next year, the agency expects an increase of 15,000 horses.

In September, the advisory board toured a wild horse herd area in Nevada that had not been grazed by cattle in eight years. Sue McDonnell, a board member who teaches equine behavior at the University of Pennsylvania, said she opposed euthanasia until she saw the battered grasses and invasive weeds.

“It was awful,” she said in an interview. “A lot of that land is under severe stress. If we don’t act now, there will be parts that will be lost effectively forever. The horses will die, other wildlife will die, and that will be that.”

While few people disagree that regions of the West are overgrazed, critics of the agency say it is wrong to blame wild horses, which are outnumbered by cattle 10 to one on bureau lands.

Killing horses in storage would only enable unsustainable practices that favor ranchers, they say.

“The population problem is just a symptom of a failed public lands wildlife policy,” said Michael Harris, a lawyer for Friends of Animals. To find a lasting solution, he said, the federal government must address decades of management policies that have eradicated wolves and mountain lions, which prey on horses, from public lands, creating a landscape where horses reproduce rapidly.

“We’re not going to solve this problem unless we have a policy that makes room for wildlife on the land — all wildlife, not just horses,” he said.

[goodpeachtea]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥. (𝟎𝟏)

Summary: People could say that Baby was crazy, so they could say that hell is more preferable than spending a day with her. Baby agreed. But no one could say that the girl was not a genius or that she was like everyone else. Baby Jones was special - yes, she could be a nicer special type, but anyway, special.

Couple: Spencer Reid x OC.

Words: 3.9K

Warnings: Cigarettes, mention of murder, slightly PTSD, language.

Author’s Note: In case you want to know, the fanfic starts in the middle-end of the third season - and I hope it goes to infinity and beyond! Many of the cases we will see here are original (including the one briefly mentioned in the first chapter). Hope you like it :)

➤ MASTERLIST.

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             (𝟎𝟏). 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖡𝖤𝖦𝖨𝖭𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖮𝖥 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖤𝖭𝖣.

   JINGLE BELLS PLAYED IN THE BACKGROUND. Children laughed, adults toasted and Baby Jones felt this strange discomfort in her chest as she turned the pages of Alice in Wonderland. The child wanted to be reading one of the "grown-up" classics but was caught trying to reach David Copperfield, causing an accident that involved Les Misérables falling on her head - that experience could be compared to being hit by a brick. December 25th was a big day for the Jones family (more than it was for the other families). The unique and loved Baby was born in Christmas and, as much as she didn’t aprecciated much events like that at a young age, even the most distant cousins came from afar to celebrate the mix of birthday with Christmas.

   Baby could have sworn she saw figures out the window, but supposed it was just in her head. Before turning her eyes to the book she was reading, she observed all of her family members as happy as ever - almost as if they knew that this would be the last party they were going to celebrate - with a slight smile and noticed her parents approaching. "We have a gift for you, dear," said her mother Marie Ann.

– I have to admit that I was totally against it, but your sister is good with sweet talk, no wonder she is a lawyer. – Said her father, Thomas Jones, pointing to Baby's older sister, who smiled and gave a little thumbs up (after playing an important role in the accident that led to Baby's name, the smart Amelie always insisted in pampering the peculiar child).

   The eight-year-old Jones smiled, realizing that the gift was a book the second she put her eyes on the package. She opened the red package slowly, loving to see the suffering in the eyes of those who waited anxiously to see her reaction. She opened her mouth in genuine surprise when she saw David Rossi's book in her hands, thanking her parents and siblings who watched her from afar. The girl had wanted that book for a long time, but her parents insisted that it was worrying for a girl her age to read a book about serial killers.

   The Jones were not nearly the perfect family, but they were a good family. They were extremely genuine and fun, and their children couldn't be much different. The oldest was Amelie, 26 years old. She was extremely studious and hardworking, but when she met her family, Mellie was the same old goofy and good sister and daughter. Then there was Owen. The computer genius was 21 years old and was a problem for his neighbors, but everyone who approached him enough could only see kindness and fun in the Jones children. The youngest of the family was AJ (short for Alexander Jones, but he decided to hate the name early). The little one was only five, but it was the family's energy boost, always playing pranks and cheering others up.

   Then there was Baby left. Nobody could understand her very well (and that was reason enough to send her to the psychologist early) and she didn't seem to care that much. It was a fact that the second youngest in the Jones family was loved by her family, but that did not stop her strange behavior from always standing out.

   And everything changed in a snap. The night of December 25 until 20:11 that was perfect suddenly turned into Hell. And suddenly, "bang!", the beginning of the end.

   The only Jones gasped, and with wide eyes she rose from the bed, sighing heavily. Her brain quickly processed that it was all just a goddamn dream tormenting her again, causing teenage Jones to swallow, closing her eyes in relief and wiping the cold sweat from her forehead and neck. She looked at the digital clock on her head table, seeing the numbers 4:18AM flashing red (so she blew out a surprised breath, noting that she managed to sleep more than usual).

   Baby opened her windows and checked that her door was locked, thanking that today Sophie decided that she would want to sleep with the other children. Jones tied her red hair awkwardly, opening her desk drawer and under her coat she found the pack of cigarettes she shouldn't be using, taking out a lighter from the same place and throwing herself on the bed, lighting a cigarette and looking at the ceiling .

   The teen took the first drag and as she blew out the smoke, her heart calmed down and for a moment no part of her mind was in 10 years ago, the nightmare of just now being slightly forgotten. Jones hated being part of statistics, but what could she do when she went through times of crisis? She didn't drink hidden or smoke in the corners because other teenagers did, Baby did it because she needed to - or at least she thought she did.

   She closed her eyes in anger and tightened her jaw when between a drag and another flashes of the final days of 1997 invaded her head. Baby jumped up from the bed, pausing for a second before punching her mirror, thinking about the noise it would cause, waking up all the inhabitants of the Sunshine Orphanage - the ironic thing is that Jones' days there always felt like rainy days. The girl took her battered backpack and stuffed her pack of cigarettes with her other items, sneaking out the window.

   It was usual for Baby Marie to do that, to try to escape from her reality. She never managed to be very successful on that mission, but that didn't stop her from trying again and again. Baby always arrived before the women who looked after her got up, not wanting bars on her window. The girl sighed as she walked the dark streets of Washington, heading toward a lonely, quiet corner where her chances of being murdered increased. But for her, the feeling was that dawn was always safer. That was the time of peace that the redhead would have, after having to put up with noisy children, adolescents in internal combustion and her own brain devoid of any distraction.

   The little 17-year-old found herself in a park a few minutes later, avoiding children's toys and places where drunks tend to pass. She also ignored the copy of David Copperfield in her backpack, looking away and just searching for the anatomy book she picked up from the library. She spent a long time there, clearing her mind and although sleepy, more awake than ever. The only thing that distracted her from her inner peace that lasted a few minutes was the ringing of her old cell phone and the name David Rossi on her broken screen.

– Rossi? Why are you calling me? – An angry teenager grumbled in her cellphone, rubbing her dark circles and curious about the subject that the longtime acquaintance wanted to talk about. – It's fucking 5AM.

– I know you were already awake and I kinda need your help, kiddo.

   David Rossi sighed, not believing he was going to do that. Baby, in the other side, gave up of her grumpy behavior and smiled, knowing how that conversation would end. She bit her lips and hoped that the most evil of the evil criminals would be out there, killing lots and lots of people - and Baby could try, but she would not feel any kind of remorse about her thoughts. "I heard you are back in the business. Tell me about it, Italy, what can I do to save your and Gideon's ass?".

– Gideon it's not in the BAU anymore, Baby. – He told, looking around to make sure no one was listening to his phone call.

– Oh, crap. But okay, boo-hoo. Moving on, let's talk about dead bodies and serial killers.

   Rossi almost laughed of Baby's behavior, because it would be funny if it wasn't sad. Baby was, after all, an almost eighteen-years-old which the happiest part of the day was imagining what bloody crimes she could solve - or commit, depending on her mood. The only Jones couldn't feel sorry for Jason Gideon farewell, even if she was alive because of him or if he made her life a little bit more happy (or rather, less unhappy) asking for help when his cases entered a dead-end.

– That will count as a "S.O.S BABY"? – David said smiling, making the young girl laugh a little. – Yeah, Gideon left me a note that explained the conditions for me.

– And he told you that if you guys used one more of those I would maybe be joining you as the youngest F.B.I agent?

– Actually, the note said that you would try to trick me when we still have five S.O.S's left. – Baby cursed the old man, while Rossi tried to figured out what could he do when his chances where actually over.

   Baby made a deal with Gideon, that's what this whole "S.O.S BABY" was all about. Jones was special, she could think as the unsub, and as the victim. He needed help, she needed a reason. When the profiler did fifty phone calls to the teenager, she would have a chance to prove herself capable of - breaking all the possible rules - making part of the F.B.I. Everything about it was wrong: first, Baby should be protected by the Bureau, not part of it; second, she cannot even drink legally, she is a child; third, would it be responsible to put someone with serious psychological problems holding a gun? Jason Gideon didn't put a lot of thought when he agreed with that deal, and now the problem was in the hands of David Rossi.

– Now, you wanna help me or not?  

   Some of the other FBI agents couldn't help but notice the oldest of them suddenly withdrawing, calling someone - almost like calling a dealer, looking sideways and reluctantly - and referring to that person as "baby". The famous David entered the sheriff's office in Rosenberg, Texas and closed the blinds, raising more suspicions among members of the Behavior Analysis Unit team.

   “Did you hear what I heard?”, asked JJ, smiling broadly and exchanging shrewd looks with Derek and Emily. “It looks like the fourth Miss Rossi is coming!”, laughed the handsome Morgan, while Reid arrived without knowing what was happening and asking why they were laughing.

– It´s adult talk, kid. –  Emily teased, ruffling the taller boy's hair, who grimaced and mumbled something about him not being a child. – I have to say, I didn't expect to hear Rossi call a woman "baby". It's quite young for him, isn’t it? 

   The subject soon changed when technical analyst Penelope Garcia arrived with bad news regarding the research she had done for the case. Again, that case was clueless and more difficult to resolve than ever. The unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, approached when he noticed the expressions of defeat of the four BAU agents regarding the case of men of different social status and equally handsome being brutally murdered by stab wounds and being left in random places in the city in the southern United States.

   "I got something," David S. Rossi announced, leaving the office excitedly after spending a lot of time inside, while the rest of the team discussed theories that were soon refuted. "I think that our unsub is actually a women. Well, kinda. It was right in front of us the whole time!"

– We have already discussed the possibility of our unsub being a woman, David. It is impossible, all men were physically fit. – Aaron said, sighing and annoyed that they weren't getting a result.

   Rossi ignored what his boss said, remembering the smart point of view that Baby Jones provided him. “When we went to visit Mrs. Wilson's office, the wife of the fourth victim and the psychologist of the second one, we recorded her statement, remember? Her husband had not yet been murdered and she did not want to leave her office”, Hotch, the one who were at the interview with the brand new suspect, agreed.

– Yes, she looked quite shocked up that her patient was murdered.

– And maybe she was quite of an actress. – David suggested, carefully examining the record they had about Mrs. Wilson. –  Me and... I watched the recording again and a detail caught my attention: doctors, like a psychologist, display diplomas on walls and shelves, where patients can see them. It causes an immediate feeling of respect and trust. The family photos, however, are on the table, sometimes even hidden in the drawer, just for the doctor to see. It is an involuntary action, nobody wants mentally unstable people watching their life, their family. But look at Ms. Wilson's office, photos of her children at the table, facing her, while photos of her husband - and her husband alone - are on display everywhere, in the most eye-catching spots possible. Look at this! Who puts a 12 by 12 inch portrait of the spouse on the office wall?

– Yeah, I thought that was weird too, but that doesn't mean she is a murderer. We knew that her husband was possessive and abusive, he was jealous of all the people around her. It is perfectly possible that he told her to put those pictures like that so that her patients would know that, well, "she already belonged to someone".

   “I don’t think so. My point is that Linda Wilson was directing the anger of one of her patients to Mr. Wilson“. Everyone stopped for a minute and thought about the theory, seeing the picture filled with theories and crime scene photos, along with the documents, and seeing that it might actually be right.

– But what about the other victims? – The Special Agente Jareau asked, pointing to the pictures of the men hanging on the board.

– Distractions. Mrs. Wilson is an extremely intelligent woman. If only her husband were killed, suspicions would fall on her right away.

   “I trust you, Dave. Morgan and Prentiss, bring Linda Wilson to the police station, say we need to ask some questions”, ordered Hotch, the pair waving quickly and heading for the black SUV. “JJ and I are going to get a warrant to get everything Doctor Wilson has about her patients. You and Reid stay here and review what we already have, try to find more things that point to our suspect or anything that will help us find the killer”.

ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA - EIGHT HOURS LATER.

   Baby Jones was never the most adored girl in school. It was not a matter of popular and outcast, blond and brunette, intelligence or ignorance. It was a matter of Baby was a fucking pain in the ass. Jones knew. She knew that everyone around her hated her. And what could she do? She liked it.    See, don't get me or Baby wrong. What could I say besides the pure truth about the girl who moves our pages? The fact that she is so stupidly annoying, rude and is a horror movie tucked into 5 feets and looks of a fairy. It is difficult for anyone to describe how horrible Baby Jones is, but, my dear reader, I will do everything to show the indescribable annoyance of our (not so) beloved young woman.    Everything has a reason. We can't blame Baby for being the devil on earth. She herself says, "Everything I do is for a reason" and who are we to go against a mentally unstable redhead who knows how to shoot. Jones is, after all, one of the only people who have the slightest right to be a little irritating in the face of everything she has been through. Of course, nobody expected her to use this right with such enthusiasm, but my point is: Baby Jones is broken and with fewer screws on her head, try to take it easy.

– Jones, put out that cigarette!

   Baby smiled at the shout from her Physical Education teacher as she passed her high school football court, backpack on her shoulder and cigarette between her lips. He ignored the athletic students going around and the girls playing soccer, looking at Mrs. Smith, the couch.

– Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. – She screamed back at Smith, seeing her head shake, sighing and turning her attention to the students who deserved her concern - deep down, she felt sorry for Baby, but it was easier to feel angry. The students around her looked at the redhead, never ceasing to be surprised by the behavior of the well-known Jones.

   The bad-habits girl patted her jeans pockets when she heard her battered phone ring, knowing who the call was coming from and what the news was. No one else made calls to her, so David Rossi was the only possible name to be on the display of Baby’s cell phone.

   “Did you catch the guy?”, Jones asked, ignoring greetings and good manners (which was somewhat usual). She was always excited to know about cases and thrilled when it was possible for her to help. “Of course we did, bambina! I had your help.”

– Yeah, what was I thinking? Of course you would get the guy with my help. I saved your ass. You and these BAU idiots would be screwed if it weren't for me.

– Always very humble, huh? And respect, girl, these "BAU idiots" may be the ones who will decide your future, if you're going to be an FBI agent. – Rossi warned, his voice low because he was on the jet, next to the agents who (theoretically) were sleeping.

– So, I was right, wasn't I? Let me guess, did the psychologist give steroids to her homicidal patient? – Baby ignored the older man's comment, while walking towards the school entrance.

– How did you...?

   "Try to keep up: depression, anxiety, probably abused by the father. He kills handsome men and someone could interpret it as if he were envious of the victims. But I'm not someone, am I, Rossi? Mistreated by the father, men do not usually make fun of the appearance of other men in this way. No, but they make fun of the lack of "masculinity". He didn't kill these men because he wants to be them, he killed because he was attracted to them”, Baby spoke fast, her reasoning at incredible speed. Dave smiled on the other end of the phone, never failing to feel proud of Baby's skills. “He went to a psychologist looking for help, hating himself and disgusting his sexuality. Linda Wilson, a woman with an attractive but scoundrel husband, saw an opportunity to get rid of her husband once and for all, seeing the unsub's homicidal potential. Instead of giving him tranquilizers or some shit like that, she gave him steroids, leaving the man on edge.”

– You are absolutely right. And the curious thing is that the first victim was in fact homosexual, but the others were straight men that Patrick Thomas, the unsub, believed were trying to attract him, trying to make him sin, when they were not even doing anything.

– I can't say that I don't know what that is. – Baby murmured to herself, pressing her jaw in anger as Rossi heard the comment and felt his heart ache.

   Rossi sighed at the feeling that remained in the air at the girl's comment, even if it wasn't even Jones’s intent to say it out loud. "Baby... you know what day is coming, don't you?", he said on a sigh, reluctantly. He noticed the silence of the call being interrupted twice by the younger woman's shaky voice, who stopped talking immediately, not wanting to show weakness. “Yes”, she spoke simply, never being able to forget the meaning of December 25th.

– I know the emotions that day brings to you and...

– No, you don’t. – Aggressive as ever when the subject was brought up, Baby looked around, always feeling watched when someone starts talking about that 1997 season. – You don’t and we don’t need to talk about it. 

– I’m sorry. But along with... that, comes your birthday. Baby, I know you're pissed at me right now, but we need to talk about it. This year is important, things will change, you will have to find a place to live and I...

– You...?

– I'll try to get you on the FBI. – He whispered reluctantly, knowing the commotion of the little redhead on the other state, happy to know that he softened the previous conversation. – Know that I'm not promising anything. You will probably have to train a lot and start doing ridiculous jobs for your skills, but if you want to be a profiler you have to prove yourself in there. You’re still too young.

   “Trust me, sir, I going to prove that I can beat some sick minds even if I'm cleaning the floor, making coffee or printing papers”, she smiled, feeling more excited by the news. Baby saw children approaching - children from her orphanage that she would have to take “home” - and then sighed, knowing that her life would not be based on what she was good doing for a long time before Rossi took her out of Alexandria, “I need to go”. “Try not to get yourself in too big of a trouble, I don't have the guts to put a delinquent in the Bureau”.

– I can’t promise anything. – The ginger quoted him from earlier, hearing a laugh. – And Rossi...

– Yes, kiddo?

– Hum, I... – Jones bit her lip, gulping and arching her shoulders in discomfort.

– I know, Baby. – It was hard for her, he knew it. – You’re welcome.  

   Spencer Reid really felt guilty about listening to the conversation - or at least, David's part of the conversation. But what could he do? He was lying on the seat of the jet, with his eyes closed and his mind totally active and uncomfortable, he having to fight his desire to go to the bathroom and inject into his vein the Dilaudid he had in the bottom of his bag, without the courage to throw it away.

   The Boy Genius' mind was distracted for a while, curious about the person the experienced Rossi spoke to. He, like the other BAU agents the other day, assumed it was a woman, a secret girlfriend, perhaps. But that didn’t fit, Spencer was irritated by not being able to solve the mystery (and even more irritated by being interested in the personal life of his coworker). The Italian-American called it bambina - was it a dear family member? - and why would he put a family member on the FBI? It was dangerous! On top of that, he spoke of the previous case to her as if it were nothing, as if she already knew.

   Spence bit his lip, glancing at the man looking out the window, getting up slowly. Reid sat across from Dave, smiling weakly. "I overheard, I'm sorry," he murmured, making Rossi smile. Dave wasn't as angry as he thought he would be, the eldest believing that some minimal information shared for the trustworthy Spencer would be no big deal. “Curious?”, the young man nodded.

– For now, she is top secret. But I can tell you that if everything goes as planned, oh, boy, we're screwed.

[reidmorefic]

safe // s.r (part 3)

I didn’t expect that I would have more than one part and now I have three. I’m nowhere near finished with this story everyone. I’m kind of winging it as I go to be honest with you all. I’m also not a fan of this work, but I’m pushing through it! I really hope that you all are enjoying it and I would love to hear any feedback! If you guys have any ideas of what might happen, I would love to hear that too! Please feel free to come talk to me anytime, I don’t bite! Thank you so much for reading and Happy Tuesday everyone!

Spencer 

Spencer despised the drive from Quantico to your office.

During the time that he had known you, he had only suffered through the drive twice before. It was an hour and a half long, but traffic was the true reason the drive was so dreadful. Memories of driving on his lunch break to meet you in the city were distant now. The only thing he could think of was how scared you must be if you were missing. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles going white. He clenched his jaw, thoughts of your face going through his mind. Why hadn’t he taken your phone call seriously? He completely forgot that Emily was sitting in the passenger seat of the bureau issued SUV. She was dialing your number again. 

“I think I have her assistant’s phone number.” Spencer muttered, flicking his turn signal on. “Look under Amanda B.” 

“Okay.” Emily looked down at his flip phone, pressing buttons as she squinted. “You really need to upgrade your phone, Spencer.” 

“Now really isn’t the time to judge my technology preferences, Emily.” He snapped. “Is she answering?” 

“It’s ringing.” Emily glanced at Spencer, taking note of his rigid posture as she put the phone on speaker. “Reid, I know that this is hard but you need to breathe.” 

“Emily, please,” Spencer looked over at her. “I really don’t think you understand what I’m feeling right now. I’ve already lost one girl I love because I let my emotions get in the way of an investigation. I can’t let that happen here.” 

“I know, Reid.” She whispered. “We’re going to do everything we can, okay?” 

Just then, Amanda answered the phone. 

“Hello?” Spencer had never felt more relieved to hear your assistant’s voice. 

“Amanda, it’s Spencer.” He reached over, grabbing the phone from Emily’s hand. “Have you seen Y/N?” 

“No, I haven’t. She left right after your call earlier and I haven’t seen her since.” Amanda said. “I’m actually really worried. Joe, another lawyer here, he’s missing as well. They had a little dispute in her office before she called you.” 

“Did he leave at the same time as Y/N?” Emily asked. 

“Um, I think so, yeah.” Amanda said. “They were acting really weird this morning. Joe was in her office when I got in this morning, waiting for her.” 

“What’s Joe’s last name, Amanda?” Emily asked, looking over at Spencer. “I’m going to get Garcia to run his info.” 

“His last name is Sanchez.” Amanda said. “He was talking about Harvard. He said ‘Such a princess. I don’t remember you being like that at Harvard.’ Then your Mom called.” 

“I want a full background on Joe.” Spencer said. “Thank you, Amanda. If you can remember anything else, please call me.” 

“I will.” 

Spencer hung up, throwing his phone down to the cup holder as he clenched his jaw. Emily’s fingers were moving over her phone, typing out her message to Garcia, no doubt. Spencer’s foot pressed down onto the gas pedal as he saw the exit sign he needed. Emily sighed, putting her phone down. She looked over at the speedometer, her brows furrowing as she noticed the speed. 

“Spencer, slow down.” Emily tensed up. “We’re no good to anyone if we end up in a hospital.” 

“She told me about Joe.” Spencer said. “I know he was in a Fraternity adjacent to her Sorority. The two were paired up during events and parties a lot.” 

“And they work at the same law firm?” Emily mumbled. “That’s strange.” 

“She always thought so too.” Spencer said. “She said he was interested in California. It never made sense that he decided to move here after Harvard.” 

“And to get into the same Law Firm as Y/N.” Emily agreed. “Was there anyone else from Harvard that reappeared in her life recently?” 

“No, not that she’s mentioned.” Spencer turned down another street, keeping an eye out for the parking garage your car was in. “This isn't making any sense. What reason would Joe have to kidnap Chloe and kill her boyfriend? If his obsession or fascination is with Y/N then why is he hunting down other Harvard Grad’s? How would he have visited my Mother over the weekend and still have time to kidnap Chloe?” 

“There’s more than one person working on this, Spencer.” Emily’s phone began to ring. She lifted it up to her ear. “Hey, Hotch?” 

“Put him on speaker.” Spencer asked. 

“Another grad student went missing.” Emily said, pulling her phone away from her ear, pressing the speaker option on her phone screen. “Her name is Kelly Harmon. She lives in Richmond.” 

“They’re staying close to home now.” Spencer said. 

“Morgan and Rossi are going to stay in California.” Hotch explained. “J.J and I will be coming back to the east coast. Any word from Y/N?” 

“No, we’re pulling into the garage now.” Spencer said. “Her assistant said she went out after she called me and she hasn’t been seen since.” 

“It’s only been two hours, Reid.” Hotch said softly. “We still have time.” 

“Thanks, Hotch.”

Reader

When you finally woke up, Chloe Green was sitting in front of you. 

Your eyes grew wide with panic as you noticed that Kelly Harmon was next to her. Both had pieces of cloth tied around their head, blocking their mouths. Thankfully, both girls were still knocked out. You weren’t sure that you would be able to handle their panic and fear on top of your own. You wanted to know what George and Henry were using to keep you under while they were out kidnapping other girls. The more important thing you wanted to know was why they kidnapped Chloe and Kelly. You and Chloe were always close in college, but Kelly, not so much. She may have been Chloe’s biggest fan and best friend, but she was never yours. 

So why was she here? You hardly spent anytime with Kelly in college. You could hardly remember the times that you did spend together. You looked around the warehouse, searching for any sign of George or Henry. Maybe it was the whole sorority they were trying to kidnap? Maybe this was just another one of their games? There was no sign of either men in the warehouse. It was time to think while you still had a clear head. 

How could you make it out of this? Your hands were tied behind your back with what felt like rope. There was hope in that. If the knot wasn’t tied tight enough, you could pull it loose and free your hands. That was something that would have to wait. If George or Henry walked in while you were trying to break free, you didn’t imagine it would go well. You looked down as you tried to move your feet. You realized that your ankles were tied to the chair as well. George and Henry weren’t half bad at this kidnapping thing.

“Look who’s awake!” Henry’s voice startled you.

You jumped in your seat, your head whipping around at the sound of footsteps. Both boys were carrying bags with takeout food in them, to-go cups in their hand. Anger washed over you then, filling your chest as the two men moved in front of you. Your eyes burned with tears of anger. 

“Why are you doing this?” You gritted your teeth. “Why did you bring Chloe and Kelly here?” 

“You’re smart, Y/N.” George smirked at you, lifting his straw to his lips. “Why don’t you figure it out. Maybe we’ll give you a treat if you get it right.” 

“I don’t know why, George!” You shouted. “If I knew why, do you think I would be asking you? I don’t have a clue, okay? I never spent time with Kelly. I only talk to Chloe on the phone now, I barely see her in person.” 

“But you did spend time with Kelly in school, remember?” Henry said. “You, Chloe, and Kelly spent some time together during our last year. We had plenty of parties.” 

“No, you threw parties and we showed up.” You said. “If I was with Kelly at any of those parties, it was by coincidence.” 

“Maybe.” George shrugged. “But there were a few parties where you and Kelly were doing a little more than running into each other. Do you remember that game of blow?” 

“You kidnapped me and Kelly because we made out at a party one time?” You rolled your eyes, looking away from them. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“No, see what was ridiculous is that after you and Kelly teased me and Henry here, you wouldn’t come upstairs with us.” George said. “That pissed me off.” 

“Why? Why did it piss you off?” You asked. “There were plenty of girls that would have gone with you two. Why does it matter that we didn’t?” 

“Because for two years, I watched you.” George set his takeout food down on the ground before he moved forward. “I watched every move you made on that campus. I noticed the way you dressed, how you talked, the way that you moved. But you were always too good for me, weren’t you.” 

“I never said that I was too good for you.” You whispered as George moved closer to you. 

“You didn’t have to say it, Princess.” 

Just like that, Joe’s words from before came rushing back. 

‘Such a Princess, I don’t remember you being like that at Harvard.’ 

Just like that, the night George was talking about came rushing back to you. 

You knew why you were there.

Spencer 

Spencer pulled into the parking garage on high alert. The parking garage was next to the building you worked in, so he knew that you would have parked there. He told Emily the make and model of your car, advising her to keep an eye out for it. Spencer made it to the third level of the parking garage when he saw your car. Spencer slammed on brakes, throwing the SUV into park. Emily’s body lurched forward, her hand reaching out to the dashboard as Spencer threw his seat belt off. 

He was out of the car in seconds. There was nothing left on the ground beside your car, so Spencer crouched down to look under the car. Emily walked over to where Spencer was crouching down on the pavement, rubbing the back of her neck. She looked at Reid for a split second before she decided to assess the scene herself. His head definitely wasn’t clear. She walked up to the car, peering inside the window. 

“Would she have left the doors unlocked?” Emily asked, squinting her eyes. 

“No.” He stood up, reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief. He reached down, opening the car door with ease. “Dammit.” 

“Okay,” Emily looked around her feet. She noticed something shiny under the car parked next to Y/N’s.  “Spencer, did she wear any jewelry?” 

“Um, she put on a necklace before she left for work this morning. She always wore two rings, they both had significant meaning to her.” 

“What about this?” Emily leaned down, reaching under the neighboring car. She came back up with a ring in her hand. “That’s an emerald, does that mean anything?” 

“Her birthstone.” Spencer looked at the ring in Emily’s hand. “That’s hers. She wouldn’t have lost it out here, Emily. It fits her perfectly.” 

“Do you think she left it here for you?” Emily asked. 

“Yes.” He nodded, reaching out to grab the ring between his own fingers. “Emily, this is her Harvard class ring. She was trying to tell us something.” 

Emily nodded her head, reaching for her back pocket.

“I’ll call Garcia and have her hack the security footage of the garage and Y/N’s law firm. You call Hotch and let him know that Y/N is missing.” Spencer said, keeping his grip on the ring as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “Garcia, I need you to hack into the parking garage on 4th street next to Y/N’s law firm. We need security footage and an APB out on her as a missing person.” Spencer was speaking so quickly, he was losing his own train of thought. 

“Okay, I’ll get right back to you with that.” Garcia said. “Are you okay?” 

“No, I’m not okay.” He said, “I need you to find everything you can on Chloe and Y/N from their college days. I know they were friends, but I need to know everything about what they did, where they did it, and who with.” 

“I will do what I can.” Garcia said softly. “We’ll find her, Spencer.” 

“Let’s hope we do.” He snapped his phone shut, turning back to look at Emily. “I don’t know what to do. 

[the-ipre]

Here’s a dark AU: The Hunger has been getting better at sending more realistic spies. It’s latest and proudest creation, a perfect illusion of a little boy named Angus McDonald

- The Hunger looks through all of the planes it contains, and it pulls together bits and pieces from each to make a perfect spy. A child, innocent enough to be trusted. A detective, clever and someone with a reason to be poking around. Alone, with no connections and no one to care for him, to garner pity. He is human, and he is real, and he will be their perfect spy. They make dozens and drop them into dozens of planes, trying to find the one that has the Light of Creation so that they may continue their advancement among the interplanar systems. Each is Angus McDonald, and each has a copy of Caleb Cleveland and the Cursed Cloud, and each knows that he is supposed to investigate for the Light.

- The Hunger’s illusion was almost perfect, and that almost perfection made Angus McDonald almost believe that he really was a little boy. He knew that he wasn’t because he was a scout for the Hunger, he was looking for the Light, and he was made to be a detective, but he also had memories of a grandpa. He didn’t remember that grandpa, he didn’t even know if there was a name to go along with the gray hair and crows feet, but he was a little boy, and little boys had grandfathers. He was alone, and while the Hunger never intended for their plans to go this way he was also lonely. He was only so little, after all, and it is a great wide world for a boy on his own, especially one who had been made to work alone. Although he had a job, and he knew he had a job, and he was good at his job, a small secret part of him wanted silly things like companionship and to be cared for. He boxed that up, because real detectives didn’t need help, and they didn’t need to be tucked into bed at night, and they didn’t cry and they certainly wouldn’t need anyone to hold them if they did.

- When our Angus touched down on Faerun, he didn’t know where to start looking for this powerful light, but he was a smart detective, and so he began looking for clues. He started asking around, and he found that people had gaps in their memories, and that didn’t seem like something this Light could do, but it felt important, so he followed the lead. He was good at following things that felt important, after all, and he was made to detect. This meant that he took on odd jobs that weren’t solely about the Light, because it looked like he would be in this for the long haul and buying things like food and shelter were important, no matter how illusory he was. He ends up taking a job to look for the Rockport Slayer, and even though he knows that it’s not what he’s supposed to be doing he has also been alone for almost three years now, and while he is still looking for the Light a smaller, hidden part of him wants to try to make a home.

- Angus meets three goofs who speak in static sometimes, and that ties back in to people with gaps in their memories, and he knew that things would be connected! Now, he just has to figure out how that fits in with the Light, but he’s sure that he can do it. He’s the best detective on the planet, after all. When the Oculus is discovered he is there, and it’s like a clue was delivered right into his lap. He can feel that draw, and it isn’t as strong as he was told that it would be but that has to be the Light. He bounces up and down in happiness because he did it! He’s found the Light, and he will just have to solve the mystery around it, and then his purpose will be fulfilled, and then...well, he isn’t quite sure what will happen after that. Even though he wants to investigate into that, he has bigger things to deal with, and. Well, isn’t it better to not think about what would happen to a little illusory boy who finished his mission?

- Being the world’s best detective, he manages to find people who dropped down to the planet in a cannonball, and when they went to leave again he persuaded them to let him ride back up to the second moon with them. He tells Madam Director that he would like to know what was going on, please, and no horseshit because he did manage to get up to their secret base. (In the background, Carey and Killian are internally screaming because they had just gone off moon for a date night, a fun time going to stores that weren’t the Fantasy Costco or Fantasy Olive Garden, and now they had brought back a kid who was trying to almost threaten Madam Director, and this was not how they had wanted their night to go but c’est la vie.) He gets a place to stay, and starts investigating the process of how the relics are disposed of – or, to be more accurate, not disposed of. Those pieces of the Light are going somewhere, and his job is to figure out where that somewhere is. He also notices that Madam Director’s staff seems to be growing stronger, and there is almost a draw to it, and he starts to put the pieces together but the longer he stays on the moon base, the longer he wants his investigation to take.

- See, for the first time in his short life, he had a little home. There were people who cared about him, and there were people who tolerated him but still said hello when he greeted them, and he even managed to get one of them to teach him magic! He knew one or two spells that were necessary to his job, but the fact that someone was willing to teach him, was willing to actually spend time with him that they didn’t have to, well that was better than any first level spell. He makes macarons, and that was never something that he was supposed to do, he was a spy and a detective and he had one job, but he made cookies! And they...well, they weren’t great, and they got kind of blown up, but he still made them! He was a little boy, and even though he was an illusion and on a secret mission, he was learning how to be a kid along with it all. Sure, there were some not-so-great things that came with that, like keep-away or people treating you like a baby, but as he stayed on the moon base, he started to feel less like a detective and more like a person. 

- The Hunger locks onto Faerun once our Angus makes it to the Bureau, because he discovered the Light. It wasn’t completed yet, though, so their attack did not begin, but they knew where to look, and they could feel when it would be done. As time went by Angus started to wonder if he didn’t want to tell them that the Light was getting more and more complete, but by the time he started to wonder that he had no say in the matter anymore. Things had been set in motion, and the illusory spy was just a little boy, still fake, but simply without a purpose anymore. He found his own purpose, in magic and cookies and companions, but they still felt shallow, and he grew more hollow with every day he tried to ignore his mission. He had been made for it, after all, and it was not so easy to turn away from your job when you had been made with one thing in mind.

- When the Hunger descended, Angus was afraid. This was not unusual, he was afraid of a great many things – after all, he was only a little boy, fake as his origins may have been, and the world is very large to someone so small – but for the first time he had so much to lose. In the chamber where the birds regained their memories, he wrapped his arms around his torso and shook, because this was the end, wasn’t it? He was a spy, and this was all because of him, and the world was ending because he had been so good at his job. The adults were arguing over what was going on, fighting about the memories and people lost, and he couldn’t stand silently anymore. “This is my fault!” He said, and heads turned towards him but he couldn’t make eye contact with any of them. 

- “Uh, come again, Agnes?” Taako’s umbrella was still pointed at Lucretia, and Angus’ grip tightened around his chest. 

- “The Hunger found us because of me. I’m the- it’s- I’m-” He was shaking, and he couldn’t figure out how to word what he was saying because this was all his fault, and he was going to get cast out, and he would be alone again and the world would be destroyed and he would have fulfilled his mission but he didn’t quite want that to happen, not anymore. 

- Magnus walks over and crouches down, putting a hand on Angus’ shoulder. “Hey buddy, uh, take your time, but also, come again?”

- It came spilling out in fits and starts, that he was a spy, and that he had found the Light because he was a good detective, and that he wasn’t really a little boy, he was just made to think that he was, and that he was so sorry, and please don’t make him leave, please, he didn’t want to be alone, and he was so sorry that this was happening but he was just doing what he thought he was supposed to-

- The adults looked around at each other, not sure what to make of it, caught between a crying illusion and the apocalypse happening right outside their windows, and then Magnus spoke, cutting off the spiral of words coming from Angus’ mouth. “Hey, we’ve all done shit that we regret, and that hurt other people.” His gaze glanced to where Lucretia still stood, channeling her shield. “It just matters that we try to make things right, and that we try to do good. Are you Angus McDonald?” Angus gave a shuddery nod. “You’re learning to cook, and you like reading Caleb Cleveland books or whatever, and Taako’s teaching you magic?” He let out a quiet yeah, not sure of where this was going. “Well, you still sound like a little boy to me. And, I don’t know about the others, but I don’t plan on throwing you out.”

- “Hey, Ango, wanna help stop the apocalypse?” Taako said, and Lucretia tried to protest that he’s just a child-, but Taako barreled forwards. “I was teaching you fireball, and now seems like the right time to use it. If you want to fight, that is, and I’m not saying no pressure but I will remind you that apparently Johnny Voreman out there found us thanks to you.” Taako, Barry said, exasperated, before the elf continued. “Kidding. Mostly. Still, though, the offer stands.” He held up a spare wand, and it was mostly just a gesture because Angus did have a wand on the lanyard around his neck, but he nodded anyway, and Taako tossed him the wand. “Well then, let’s kick some extraplanar asses!”

- They fight, and they win, and the world is told of the story and song, and at the end of it all Angus is left unsure. He was the reason that the world was almost destroyed, and the only reason that the birds let him hang around was because he found his way to the moon base and then refused to leave. Without a purpose to find the Light he was just a little boy, and while he had some practice in that he was still left somewhat at odds. He could go back to solving the occasional case to make money, but that was lonely, and he didn’t like being lonely. On the other hand, a little piece inside of him that sounded like a chorus of voices said that it was what he had earned, now that the Hunger had failed in their mission, but he shut that down. He existed in the world, same as everybody else, and the Hunger may have created him but they did such a good job that he wasn’t theirs anymore. He was Angus McDonald, and he was his own person.

- He found a home with the birds and the Bureau members, and while they might have had different living situations he had at many different bedrooms in many different houses. He knew that this wasn’t how most little boys were raised, but he also knew that he wasn’t like most little boys. He was Angus McDonald, fully realized creation. He was Angus McDonald, and he was going to have a real life. He was Angus McDonald, and he wasn’t alone anymore.

[ahiddenpath]

Digimon Epilogue Celebration: Friendship

Some 2028 friendship headcanons below the cut.  I’m focusing on our known Chosen, since I haven’t thought enough about how their kiddos would interact.

-Some of the Chosen interact frequently in a professional capacity, even if they aren’t in the same business.  For example, Koushiro’s Digital World research and digimon technology advancements are relevant to Taichi as an ambassador, Ken as a digimon police officer, Jyou as a digimon doctor, and Iori as a lawyer specializing in the needs of digimon.  

Although our babes are not suspicious by nature, they tend to trust each other first whenever possible.  Sadly, they’ve suffered a lot at the hands of Chosen outside of their group abusing their ties to digimon and the inherent trust that the Chosen share as a global unit.

-Takeru spent a few months routinely calling and grilling everyone for info for his novels based on their adventures.  This actually caused contention in the group; some of the Chosen disagree on what happened (it was a long time ago, and the human memory isn’t very reliable), and some of them didn’t want certain events published.  Still, it’s Takeru, and...  The Chosen have trouble saying no to Takeru.  Some of them enjoyed the walk down memory lane...  Others, not so much.

-Taichi and Yamato forever retain their... complicated, but intimate relationship.  They each do a lot of traveling for work, and when they find themselves in the same city, they meet up for drinks/dinner/whatever the locals do for entertainment in that place.  They don’t see each other often, but when they do...  Everything instantly comes back, like they were never apart.

Which is both exceptionally comforting and annoying, because their bond is just as strange as is it strong.  They ask each other uncomfortable questions and don’t take shit if they think the other is making a mistake.  Phrases such as, “Get it together, ass” tend to come up.  Frequently.

-You can pry Mimi and Sora’s ‘close friends forever’ relationship from my cold, dead hands.  They rarely see each other in person- some years, the annual August 1 get-together is the only time- but they web chat, call, and text frequently.  They are both boss ladies who support each other and promote each other’s businesses however they can.  For all of their life, they provide each other with a safe place to talk without judgement, with nothing but support.

They also know how to paint the town on those rare times when they get together, especially when Miyako is there, too!

-SPEAKING OF BESTIES, Hikari and Miyako probably lived together at some point, but likely not for long, since Miyako and Ken married early.  They are probably the Chosen friends who see each other the most frequently in person, since Hikari’s teaching job and Miyako’s stay at home mom job allow the time for it.

Miyako encourages Hikari to stand up for herself, love herself, and start therapy.  Hikari gives Miyako outings and adult friendship time, which is vital for a SAHM.  Their kids are close friends.

-Taichi chose a difficult life for himself as a Digital World/earth ambassador.  The pressure and the mental load leak into his personal life.  When his job or leave take him to the Tokyo area, he stops by Koushiro’s place, and sometimes stays there, depending on Koushiro’s workload at the time.  

Taichi continues to tell Koushiro things he can’t tell anyone else.  Koushiro is someone who... both admires Taichi and sees him as a leader, but also sees him as he is: a normal man with a lot on his shoulders who often needs a friendly ear and a quiet place to rest.  In return, Koushiro can relax around Taichi, and he is usually willing to set his work aside for as long as Taichi needs him, outside of emergencies.

-Koushiro is in email contact with Miyako about their lives and his work.  He encourages her to work as a Digital World researcher when her kids are all in school and helps her find a position.

-Ken and Daisuke are BEST BROS FOR LIFE, and they absolutely abuse their digital gate privileges to see each other from anywhere around the world, at any time.  Miyako jokes about “did you marry me, or Daisuke,” but the truth is that she loves Daisuke, too, and joins them when she can.

Daisuke pops in from America with food from whatever restaurant he just discovered.  Since he brings enough for the whole Ichijouji clan, he is warmly received by all.  The night usually ends with a fun game of soccer with Daisuke, his son, and the Ichijoujis.

-Iori and Ken have an interesting relationship as adults, since their jobs bring them in contact so frequently.  Ken once said, “See you at the next murder,” to Iori at a party, and Iori nodded, not realizing that they had horrified the other party guests (who did not realize that Ken meant ‘in court, where I will be offering evidence from the scene and you will be defending someone’).

Ken and Iori respect the hell out of each other.  Happily, if they do see each other in court, they are usually on the same team/have the same goal of defending the innocent.

When they are both available, they sometimes attend meditation classes together.

-As an adult, Jyou continues his trend of “difficult to get in touch with.”  Being a doctor in a whole new field is no joke!  But he drops everything if he isn’t at the hospital to help any Chosen with a medical concern.

He tends to be in contact most frequently with Koushiro, often to discuss their research/work, and with Yamato.  He and Yamato can tell each other anything without judgement, and though they rarely see each other in person, they talk on the phone at least monthly.

-Miyako and Mimi try their best to see each other at least quarterly, but it’s difficult for Mimi to make the time.  Still, they call about once a week, and their conversations are usually energetic, happy, and refreshing for both parties.  Miyako loves hearing Mimi’s juicy studio gossip and travel stories, although she sometimes feels a little envious of Mimi’s lifestyle.

-Takeru and Hikari have a few periods (when they’re both single) when everyone suspects they’re dating on the down low.  Who knows!  Although they don’t see each other often, they check in once every few months.  Hikari loves Takeru’s sense of humor, but his... big personality can be difficult for her to deal with at times.  Takeru has had a quiet crush on Hikari for a long time.

-Sora and Taichi are in phone/web chat contact, sometimes often, sometimes not.  To be honest, Taichi sometimes avoids Sora when he’s low, or he knows she will scold him (because he effed up).  Sora sometimes feels a little guilt about how far apart life has taken them, since they used to hang out daily in elementary school.

Sora sees Taichi’s struggles from afar and wants to help, but Taichi tends to make that difficult.  Still, Sora’s warmth usually wins the day, and they connect when they really need each other.  When Taichi is in a good mood, his positive attitude lifts Sora up.

-Jyou and Mimi aren’t in contact often, but they find time for the odd phone call here and there.  Mimi looks up to Jyou and wants to support him in his career and his life.  Her cheerfulness can turn a hard day at the hospital around.

-Daisuke forever looks up to Taichi, even when life has one or both of them down.  They see each other whenever Taichi is in NYC for work, and Daisuke cooks for him and takes him to whatever restaurant is his current favorite.  Taichi never says so, but Daisuke’s admiration for him means a lot.

-Takeru and Yamato share lifelong brotherhood.  Takeru will never stop adoring Yamato, and Yamato will never stop caring for Takeru (and worrying about him).  They babysit for each other and have family outings together.

-Hikari and Taichi are maybe a little more distant as they grow up than Takeru and Yamato?  But the siblings will drop everything if one or the other needs help, and they always have a good, supportive relationship.

-BONUS: Eimi (my headcanon Koushiro’s significant other) is often in contact with Jyou, as their hands-on work with digimon leads to information that they both need.  She also requests Ken’s help when she discovers another lab doing something shifty with digimon, or abuse of technology that she, Koushiro, or her coworkers at the National Data Bureau have developed.  

Eimi has seen Chosen outside of Taichi’s group abusing their status, so she insists on dealing with Taichi/Jyou/Iori/Ken when she needs help in their fields (and Koushiro, of course).  She thinks her coworkers yield to this because they also want the assistance of the most famous Chosen.  That’s not wrong...  But what she doesn’t realize is that being Koushiro’s wife gives her clout in digimon situations.  It’s for the best that she doesn’t feel her own influence; she assumes that everyone is looking to the original Chosen and not noticing what she’s up to.

Her closest relationships among Koushiro’s Chosen friends are with Jyou and Ken, whom she frequently works with.  But Taichi spends time at her apartment to see Koushiro, and the unique troubles he faces tug at Eimi’s heartstrings.  Koushiro is somewhat alarmed when she takes on an almost motherly attitude towards his Chosen leader and upperclassman- Eimi talks to Taichi in ways that Koushiro wouldn’t dare to (unsolicited advice/kind-hearted nagging)!   Taichi grumbles about it, but enjoys being doted on.

I think this was my favorite prompt so far!!!!! 

[harry-leroy]

Top 5 soliloquies? Could be from Shakespeare or whatever else :)

Thank you so much for this ask! I appreciate it! I’ll do some from Shakespeare (and probably some from Oscar Wilde let’s be real about ourselves tonight >-

1) I AM STRAIGHT UP NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME (The Tempest) 

All the infections that the sun sucks upFrom bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make himBy inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear meAnd yet I needs must curse. But they’ll nor pinch,Fright me with urchin—shows, pitch me i’ the mire,Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the darkOut of my way, unless he bid ’em; butFor every trifle are they set upon me;Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at meAnd after bite me, then like hedgehogs whichLie tumbling in my barefoot way and mountTheir pricks at my footfall; sometime am IAll wound with adders who with cloven tonguesDo hiss me into madness.

- Caliban; The Tempest (2.2.) 

Okay I love everything about the language in this play, but some of Caliban’s speeches are the best places to find these fantastic descriptions of the island that we’re on. Better yet, the way that he describes Ariel and the other spirits is so fascinating to me - it makes me wonder about where Ariel comes from, it makes me want to dive into the psychology (which is exactly what I’m doing for #ProjectTempest which is now #ProjectAriel). There’s a sense of militarism that comes from the spirits. They organize themselves into a hierarchy, with Ariel captaining the whole brigade, and not to mention, some of the things that they do are seen, at least in my eyes, as incredibly violent. In my project concerning Ariel, I am trying to dig into why we see Ariel as morally better than Caliban, even though he does some rather tortuous things, and this speech is full of them. I’m currently reading W.H. Auden’s The Sea and the Mirror, which is a poem that explores duality in The Tempest, using primarily Caliban (who represents the earth) and Ariel (who represents the sky). Auden made this incredible chart using these two ideas as ends of a spectrum, and he calls them both “HELL” (I’ll see if I can find the chart somewhere and upload it eventually because it is fascinating). Ahh, I just love this play so much. 

2) #EXPOSED (Love’s Labour’s Lost) 

Ah, good my liege, I pray thee, pardon me!Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reproveThese worms for loving, that art most in love?Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tearsThere is no certain princess that appears;You’ll not be perjured, ‘tis a hateful thing;Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting!But are you not ashamed? nay, are you not,All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot?You found his mote; the king your mote did see;But I a beam do find in each of three.O, what a scene of foolery have I seen,Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow and of teen!O me, with what strict patience have I sat,To see a king transformed to a gnat!To see great Hercules whipping a gig,And profound Solomon to tune a jig,And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!Where lies thy grief, O, tell me, good Dumain?And gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?And where my liege’s? all about the breast:A caudle, ho!

- Berowne; Love’s Labour’s Lost (4.3.) 

THIS SCENE. It will always make me laugh, and cry, and feel every human emotion in the book. God, I love it so much. Can we talk about how ridiculous these boys are? Berowne has such a superiority complex - he’s always off by himself, probably musing to himself, even when he isn’t trying to keep secrets from his three best friends. So when he’s found his chance to have a laugh, he takes it. And can we talk about the language in this play? So fun, absolute joy to read. It makes me cry sometimes I won’t lie. I adore these boys, and I adore how everyone gangs up on Dumaine because Dumaine is the baby (and of course he goes after Katharine because why shouldn’t he?) and I will die on this hill. I love this play so much. 

3) DOUBT COMES IN (Lady Windermere’s Fan) 

How horrible!  I understand now what Lord Darlington meant by the imaginary instance of the couple not two years married.  Oh! it can’t be true—she spoke of enormous sums of money paid to this woman.  I know where Arthur keeps his bank book—in one of the drawers of that desk.  I might find out by that.  I will find out.  [Opens drawer.]  No, it is some hideous mistake.  [Rises and goes C.]  Some silly scandal!  He loves me!  He loves me!  But why should I not look?  I am his wife, I have a right to look!  [Returns to bureau, takes out book and examines it page by page, smiles and gives a sigh of relief.]  I knew it! there is not a word of truth in this stupid story.  [Puts book back in drawer.  As she does so, starts and takes out another book.]  A second book—private—locked!  [Tries to open it, but fails.  Sees paper knife on bureau, and with it cuts cover from book.  Begins to start at the first page.]  ‘Mrs. Erlynne—£600—Mrs. Erlynne—£700—Mrs. Erlynne—£400.’  Oh! it is true!  It is true!  How horrible!  [Throws book on floor.]

- Lady Windermere; Lady Windermere’s Fan (Act I) 

“A wife should trust her husband” says Arthur, because it’s all he knows about marriage, that and that he would do anything for his wife. He would throw himself in front of the spear of society’s hatred for her, even though it is what he fears most. Arthur spends his entire life trying to be the model husband, the model son, the model father, the model man in society, he is so focused on perfection that Margaret can’t believe it when he’s fallen from grace. And it ruins Arthur just as much, maybe even more so. Everyone knows that Arthur is a perfectionist. He tries to match Margaret’s model, as Cecil would say “that is the worst of women.  They always want one to be good.  And if we are good, when they meet us, they don’t love us at all”. He feels like he needs someone to reform him, keep him from falling into the pit, but really he needs to relax. He needs to learn how to say “no”. And people have been waiting for him to slip up: Darlington because he wants Margaret, Cecil and George because they find it amusing. For Margaret, this is where the chips fall, where the imperfections finally come through. For the first time, she has reason to doubt him. And she lets it consume her. 

Arthur finds himself in the same position at the end of Act III. He finds his wife’s fan in Darlington’s rooms, and you can feel the tension in his voice, he’s about ready to throw out his back and shoulders from how tense he gets. But he doesn’t blame his wife, he blames Darlington, or at least that’s what he couldn’t bring himself to say. “And if my wife’s here, I’ll -”: he can’t finish his sentence, because it can’t be true. She loves me! She loves me! Thank goodness for Darlington’s interruption. For the first time, he has reason to doubt her. And he can’t bring himself to do it. 

4) HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF (Lady Windermere’s Fan) 

Gone out of her house!  A letter addressed to her husband!  [Goes over to bureau and looks at letter.  Takes it up and lays it down again with a shudder of fear.]  No, no!  It would be impossible!  Life doesn’t repeat its tragedies like that!  Oh, why does this horrible fancy come across me?  Why do I remember now the one moment of my life I most wish to forget?  Does life repeat its tragedies?  [Tears letter open and reads it, then sinks down into a chair with a gesture of anguish.]  Oh, how terrible!  The same words that twenty years ago I wrote to her father! and how bitterly I have been punished for it!  No; my punishment, my real punishment is to-night, is now! 

- Mrs. Erlynne; Lady Windermere’s Fan (Act II) 

- What did Margaret write on that fatal letter? “Arthur has never understood me” says Margaret, “but when he reads this, he will”. It’s a second-generation Nora, the woman who has never understood herself because she’s been smothered. That’s exactly what Margaret has been, losing her parents at a young age, she has been sheltered from every kind of horrible truth there is. She believes her mother died a saint, her father whose heart swelled too much in devotion for such a saintly figure. Lady Julia made sure of that. In reality, Mrs. Erlynne, while not a saint in any regard, threatens to outshine the golden girl of society, her own daughter. Mrs. Erlynne is the life of the party, not her daughter, and what is worse, her husband might love this woman, and now she thinks he has every reason to. “Cowards are always pale” - how can Margaret hope to compete with this woman? Darlington says ‘forget them, run away with me’ - she can’t bear to think that her husband has left her side. “Come back to me?” she asks the Duchess, hardly able to believe that her husband could have left, but it’s Arthur she wants. She tells Darlington, “my husband may return to me”. She would forgive him, because she loves him, but she can’t stand to think of herself as second rate in her husband’s eyes. It’s a feeling that Mrs. Erlynne knows far too well. There’s so much about motherhood in this play that I absolutely love. In my prequel play, The Selby Roses, I attempt to explore similar ideas about fatherhood. There is so much generational conflict in both plays - even seen in the men of this play. Look at Cecil Graham: there is nothing he holds in contempt more than the older generation, but he also fears them. He gets sheepish around Mrs. Erlynne, he loves to talk down to Lord Augustus. “You were never my age” he tells Augustus, almost as if to say “And I’ll never be yours”. Ah, it is such an interesting concept. Okay, stream-of-conscious rant over hehehe :’) 

5) HE’S SOME KIND OF POET (King Lear) 

When we our betters see bearing our woes,We scarcely think our miseries our foes.Who alone suffers suffers most i’ th’ mind,Leaving free things and happy shows behind.But then the mind much sufferance doth o’erskipWhen grief hath mates and bearing fellowship.How light and portable my pain seems nowWhen that which makes me bend makes the Kingbow!He childed as I fathered. Tom, away.Mark the high noises, and thyself bewrayWhen false opinion, whose wrong thoughts defilethee,In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.What will hap more tonight, safe ’scape the King!Lurk, lurk.

- Edgar; King Lear (3.6.) 

Will I ever figure out why Edgar is speaking in rhyme here, even though he is alone? Probably not. Though, it does totally make me believe that Edgar knows he has an audience, and it haunts him to no end. There are so many elements to King Lear that make it absolutely absurd, which is why it’s (at least in my eyes) such a good play for 2019. Edgar is performing for self-preservation, but isn’t everyone? Up until this night, he’s refused such a thing. Honesty or I am nothing. The day he accepted playing the game was the day Cordelia refused and that will 5ever end me. 

[bountyofbeads]

‘She was shaking’: Court filings describe system Jeffrey Epstein allegedly used to procure girls

https://wapo.st/2OMuAji

People close to Epstein fear he was murdered...as Epstein told authorities someone tried to kill him in a previous incident weeks earlier. He was described as being in good spirits in recent days...

Jeffrey Epstein dies by apparent suicide in New York jail

By Matt Zapotosky and Renae Merle | Published August 10 at 10:48 AM ET | Washington Post | Posted August 10, 2019 11:46 AM ET |

Jeffrey Epstein, the politically connected financier and registered sex offender charged recently with sexually abusing dozens of young girls in the early 2000s, has apparently died by suicide in prison, according to two people familiar with the matter.

Epstein, 66, hanged himself in the Metropolitan Correctional Center in New York City, though the exact timing was unclear according to ABC News, which was first to report the development.

Epstein, a multimillionaire with ties to celebrities and politicians including President Trump and former president Bill Clinton, was arrested last month on federal sex trafficking charges that could have put in him prison for 45 years. Prosecutors alleged he abused dozens of young girls at his Manhattan and Palm Beach, Fla., homes and enlisted his victims to bring him others.

Epstein had pleaded not guilty in the case, and a federal judge had recently denied his request to be released to home confinement.

Last month, Epstein was found in his cell with marks around his neck, and authorities were trying to determine if he was attacked or attempted suicide. He showed no obvious signs of distress at a later court hearing.

A Justice Department spokeswoman and a spokesman for the U.S. attorney’s Office in New York, which brought the new case against Epstein, declined to comment. Spokespeople for the Bureau of Prisons, officials with the Metropolitan Correctional Center and Epstein’s lawyers did not immediately return messages seeking comment.

Epstein’s case had attracted widespread attention — in part because of his wealth and political connections, and in part because of a lenient plea deal he reached more than a decade ago to resolve similar allegations. That 2008 agreement allowed Epstein to plead guilty to just two state charges in Florida, avoiding federal exposure entirely, and spend just 13 months in jail, with work-release privileges.

The deal was approved by Alex Acosta, who was then the U.S. attorney in Miami and would go on to become Trump’s labor secretary — a post he resigned after Epstein was charged last month and the controversy over the previous case was reignited.

Epstein’s death is sure to draw intense scrutiny of the Bureau of Prisons and the Metropolitan Correctional Center. The high-rise federal detention center in downtown Manhattan has a fearsome reputation; one inmate who spent time there and in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, famously said Guantanamo Bay was “more pleasant” and “more relaxed.”

The facility is no stranger to high-profile inmates. It recently housed notorious drug lord Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman while he was on trial in Brooklyn, and former Trump campaign chairman Paul Manafort has spent time there around court proceedings in New York — though records show he has since been moved to a different facility in Pennsylvania.

The facility in New York also housed Ramzi Ahmed Yousef, who masterminded the 1993 World Trade Center Bombing, and Bernard Madoff, who ran the biggest Ponzi scheme in U.S. history.

‘She was shaking’: Court filings describe system Jeffrey Epstein allegedly used to procure girls

By Beth Reinhard, Marc Fisher, Tom Hamburger and Carol D. Leonnig | Published August 09 at 7:41 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted August 10, 2019 11:44 AM ET |

He demanded sex three times a day. A parade of powerful figures visited his private estates, which were adorned with pictures of naked girls and stocked with sex toys. And the schedules of teenagers on call to give him massages at his Palm Beach, Fla., mansion were documented in phone messages from his assistants.

Those and other claims about financier Jeffrey Epstein unsealed in court filings Friday lay out disturbing details both about his alleged activities and the number of people in his orbit who could have observed them, raising new questions about how the sex abuse charges against the multimillionaire were previously handled.

Epstein, who is now facing federal sex trafficking charges involving the alleged abuse of dozens of minors, previously pleaded guilty in Florida state court to two felony counts, serving about 13 months in jail. A federal judge ruled in February that the prosecution team led by then-U.S. Attorney Alexander Acosta, who recently resigned as President Trump’s labor secretary, violated the rights of alleged victims by failing to notify them of an agreement not to bring federal charges.

The newly unsealed documents — part of a now-settled defamation case brought by one alleged victim, Virginia Roberts Giuffre, against a woman she said recruited her — depict an organized system to regularly provide Epstein with girls. 

In one 2005 message detailed in the documents, an Epstein assistant noted that one girl wanted to know if she could come to the house at a later time. “She is wondering if 2:30 is o.k. She needs to stay in school,” the message read.

Epstein has pleaded not guilty to the current charges against him. Martin Weinberg, an attorney for the financier, did not respond to a request for comment Friday about the documents.

The material was gathered as part of the defamation suit brought by Giuffre against Epstein associate Ghislaine Maxwell that was settled for an undisclosed sum in 2017.

A federal appeals court in New York last month ordered documents related to the case to be made public.

In a 2016 deposition included in the filings, Giuffre said she was a “teen sex slave” who traveled to his homes in New York, Palm Beach, New Mexico and the Caribbean and was directed to give massages and have sex with Epstein and his friends at will.

“I’m angry with anybody who has it in their mind that they can hurt and abuse a minor child and continue to lie about getting away with it and that what they’ve done is okay,” Giuffre said in the deposition. “Yes, I’m furious.”

Lawyers for Maxwell did not respond to requests for comment Friday. In a 2016 deposition, Maxwell said: “Virginia is an absolute liar and everything she has said is a lie. Therefore, based on those lies I cannot speculate on what anybody else did or didn’t do . . . everything she said is false.”

Giuffre has said she was recruited by Maxwell when she was 16 or 17 and working at Mar-a-Lago, Trump’s club in Palm Beach. According to the court filings, Mar-a-Lago produced 177 pages of records in response to a subpoena, including one chart showing that she had been a summer worker at age 17 and that she was terminated in 2000.

In a deposition, Giuffre said Epstein told her Trump was a “good friend,” but she said that she had never seen them together. 

Giuffre said that she was told by Maxwell that she would be trained at Epstein’s residence as a masseuse, but that “on the very first meeting that I had with him . . . she instructed me to take off my clothes and to give oral sex to Jeffrey Epstein.”

Asked in a deposition about Maxwell’s role in procuring girls for him, Epstein refused to answer, citing his constitutional protection against self-incrimination.

Giuffre said that Epstein flew her around the world and introduced her to an array of political and entertainment figures. She also said that Epstein told her that he had his house wired with hidden video cameras that recorded her every move, even in the bathroom.

In the court documents, Giuffre named a number of prominent men she claimed she had sex with at Maxwell’s instructions, including Britain’s Prince Andrew, former New Mexico governor Bill Richardson (D) and former Senate majority leader George J. Mitchell (D-Maine).

“My whole life revolved around just pleasing these men and keeping Ghislaine and Jeffrey happy,” Giuffre said in the deposition. “Their whole entire lives revolved around sex.”

On Friday, representatives of both Richardson and Mitchell denied her allegations, saying the men never had any contact with Giuffre.

The British royal family and Prince Andrew have repeatedly denied her claims. “Any suggestion of impropriety with underage minors is categorically untrue,” a spokesperson for Buckingham Palace said Friday.

Attorney Alan Dershowitz, who represented Epstein at one point, has vigorously denied Giuffre's allegation that she had sex with him, calling her a “certified, complete, total liar.”

Those remarks prompted Giuffre to file a defamation suit against Dershowitz, which is ongoing.

Giuffre was part of a sprawling network of young women allegedly targeted by Maxwell to give massages that led to sexual relations with Epstein and his friends, according to the court documents.

Johanna Sjoberg, a student at Palm Beach Atlantic University, testified that Maxwell recruited her to be “a legitimate assistant” answering phones for Epstein and then “asked her to perform sexual massages for Epstein, and punished her when she didn’t cause Epstein to orgasm.”

Asked if she had ever tried to get Epstein to explain why he received so many massages from so many different girls, Sjoberg said in a deposition: “He explained to me that, in his opinion, he needed to have three orgasms a day. It was biological, like eating.”

A chef who worked for friends of Epstein recalled meeting a visibly upset young woman who said she had been hired as “Jeffrey’s executive personal assistant.” She was 15.

Rinaldo Rizzo said the girl told him, tearfully, that she had been taken to Epstein’s home in the Virgin Islands and asked for sex. She said she had no memory of how she had returned to New York.

“She was shaking,” Rizzo testified. “I mean literally quivering. . . . She says, ‘I’m not supposed to talk about this.’”

The documents also include images of telephone messages from Epstein assistants summarizing calls from people procuring girls. “Has girl for tonight,” one says. “Confirmed [redacted name] at 4 pm. Who is scheduled for morning? I believe [redacted name] wants to work.”

Several messages from 2005 say only, “I have a female for him.”

Massage tables were scattered around Epstein’s home in Palm Beach, said Juan Alessi, who worked for Epstein from 1991 to 2002. He said in a 2016 affidavit that a massage “was like a treat” that Epstein provided his guests. He said that as many as 100 masseuses visited the property in the time he worked for Epstein, mostly women.

Epstein only took his massages in his private suite, which adjoined Maxwell’s bedroom suite, but was off limits to guests, he said. Alessi said he would clean up Epstein’s suite up after these massages and would sometimes find vibrators and sex toys in Maxwell’s sink.

Rosalind S. Helderman, Manuel Roig-Franzia, Matt Zapotosky and Deanna Paul in Washington, and Lori Rozsa in West Palm Beach, Fla., contributed to this report.

[nerdsworld]

“You F*** around with me..”

There is going to be consequences and repercussions. One of my favorite quotes from the movie “Life” with Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence,a story about two inmates who were both wrongly convicted of murder and given a life sentence in prison. But consequences and repercussions is something people should think about before they do something,that is so mind boggling that only they know the reason why they did it.

Jussie Smollett,actor from the Fox television show “Empire” reported he was “jumped” on January 29,2019 at 2 am,while leaving the Subway restaurant after picking up his sandwich in Chicago,in the middle of a Winter Vortex.

He claimed it was two men wearing ski masks,who beat him up,who poured bleach on him,and also tied some sort of rope around his neck.Yelled “This is MAGA country.”

Chicago police started investigating this as a suspected racist and homophobic attack.  I was always skeptical because a lot of what he said,what TMZ reported and little things that were being “added” to the narrative just was not making a lot of sense.

Might have been that little itzy,bitzy scratch that looked so, nicely placed under that eye.

Than I see a photo of Bow Wow a few weeks later,who also was in an altercation but with his girlfriend and he looked like Jig Saw,scratches all over his face,horizontal and vertical.

I have no idea who Jussie Smollett was before this,I do not watch “Empire” and the only actors on that show that I know of is Terrence Howard and Taraji P.Henson.

After almost three weeks of intense investigation from the Chicago P.D detectives, and the F.B.I (threatening letter mailed) today Jussie Smollett surrendered to the police and was charged with one felony count of disorderly conduct for filing a false police report.

He has been released on bond  at the tune of $100,000,after spending a good chunk of the day in the Cook County Jail and court to answer in front of the judge.

The chief of the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office’s Criminal Prosecutions Bureau,Risa Lanier read the bond proffer in full after court,going into details of the crime for the everyone to hear.

The Performance Of A Life Time!!

Thursday,February 21,2019 L.George