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ruershrimo · 7 months

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take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 3: motion

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chapter synopsis:

'You may forget this in the future, but you swear you’ll try your very best to remember it and be like Tsumiki. Because she’s going places; she’s got a promising future and good ideals she seems she’ll stick to until she reaches the grave, because she’s the type to change the trajectory of others’ lives even now at the tender, juvenile age of nine.'

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Fushiguro Tsumiki is amazing and she's changed the trajectory of your life. You decide to hope you can do the same for others.

Fushiguro Megumi is someone you meet again after six years, only for the two of you to have become so very different since then.

Itadori Yuji is, well, a fun guy to hang out with. That's all you know for now.

word count: ~10k (this chapter was hell to edit on tumblr); tws: mild “gore” again? (a fight scene)

30-11-2010

“When’s Megumi’s birthday, actually?” you ask one day after finishing the last of your homework off at their place.

“Oh! December 22nd,” Tsumiki states. Megumi’s scrubbing a plate in the kitchen. “Are you planning to give him anything?”

“I’ll see what I can,” you reply, “But I just wanted to know. What do you usually do for your birthdays, though?”

“Hmm,” Tsumiki pauses, “We usually only have Mr Gojo and some of his friends over— oh, hi, Megumi!”

“Yay, you’re back!”

“We were just talking about your birthday,” you inform him. “…you know, I’ve been meaning to ask something, actually. I never really see you guys’ parents, so, um… are they busy? Are they out of the country for work, or something?”

“Oh— no, our parents left.”

Left? Like, abandoned?

“Oh— oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I thought they just had work or something and could never come back earlier— I never even thought—!”

“—They’re probably having fun or dying in a ditch somewhere, though,” Megumi interrupts, “It’s not a problem to either of us. It’s not like we knew them that well either. I can’t even remember them,” he explains.

“Oh…” you trail off, turning to face the table. If they’d really gone away when the two were so young, Tsumiki, the older sister, must have tried to be the ‘adult’, right? That sounds difficult. And you’ve heard that children are like plants, and plants need to have enough space to grow— you can recall that fact from your science classes. So if they’d grown so close to each other with no one else save that weird benefactor guy, would they have been able to grow properly? It must have felt suffocating for both of them, right? Maybe they didn’t realise it if they’d been so comfortable with and used to what they’d been having their whole lives— only each other?

Or maybe you’re thinking ahead of yourself and in reality they were okay. It’s not like they wouldn’t be either way, but maybe the benefactor spent more time with them growing up, and they had more friends before you than you think— you know that Tsumiki does, even if Megumi doesn’t.

“Megumi, you shouldn’t curse people by talking about them dying like that.”

“So what? It’s the truth.”

“Hey, don’t argue…” you start.

“Hm—? Sorry, [Name]! It’s our own issue— don’t worry about it,” she says, her smile a little forced, the remnants of her frown still left on her face, “Right, Megumi?” Oh, she’s angry. Oh no.

“I’ll never understand why you’re like this,” he says, heading to his room.

“Hey— why’re you leaving?” He walks out anyway.

“Tsumiki, why’s he leaving?” She frowns again.

“I’m sorry, [Name],” she says, “Megumi just thinks that you shouldn’t be nice to people.”

“Huh? Nice in what way?”

“No, it’s just… when people do bad things, I think we should forgive them. We shouldn’t punish them instead. We have to be kind because everyone has a reason for what they do, so we should just be kind to whoever we see.”

“…uh-huh. I guess. But my mummy says that sometimes if you do that too much life gets harder.”

“It gets harder if you think it does. Megumi thinks like that too, calling me a hypocrite when I tell him to forgive people and things like that,” she says, “…you know what I think, [Name]?”

“I think that you’re a kind person. I think that everyone and anyone can be kind in any way. It’s just that we have to think we’re kind and everything comes easy. I think that kind of life is the best. So…” she grins, and it’s light and happy again, but you see the sagacity in her eyes, and maybe how tired yet satisfied she may be on her lower eyelids. “Don’t give up on trying to be a good person, [Name]. Or maybe just being a kind one, because I think you’d be amazing at that.”

“Oh…” you say. If your eyes could, they would have stars in them. Nobody’s told you you could be amazing at something, much less good. You’re quiet and nobody listens to you. Every parent-teacher-meeting always ends with the conclusion that you’re quite an alright student, but even more so a reticent girl. For years your parents have been telling you to speak up or to be more confident and the only people you’ve been able to speak easily to are Tsumiki and Megumi. The two of them are the only ones who have ever said much beyond your timid demeanour.

You may forget this in the future, but you swear you’ll try your very best to remember it and be like Tsumiki. Because she’s going places; she’s got a promising future and good ideals she seems she’ll stick to until she reaches the grave, because she’s the type to change the trajectory of others’ lives even now at the tender, juvenile age of nine. It’s strange how she doesn’t know that, how she must think that she and Megumi are close friends and that the impact she’s had on you is far less than that; it’s strange how you can meet other people at any time and if it’s the right person, no matter what, your life will be affected. It’s strange that there is such a thing as fate.

It’s 2010 and you think this year is one you want to keep lasting forever.

27-6-2016

It happens on one summer evening.

Everything seems like it’s empty; from the streets and their dusty white concrete turning grey as they’re drenched with water, to the rain that news outlets report to be more saturated with acid as the years go by, to the houses and trees that around this time are either deafeningly loud with either the quiet, the sound of cicadas or the temporarily never-ending downpour.

But for a while, on that morning, the place where you’re settled in— for now— is the rain’s dominion, and you’re just a feeble, powerless human at the hands of nature’s relentlessness.

So you stay under the convenience store awning, hiding in the shade from the rain after running an errand. The last time you’d got drenched in this type of weather— about two weeks ago— you’d got ill, and it only caused your parents more problems, as your mother chided you. Being sick in the summer wasn’t that bearable for you either— no, it was something hellish. Sometimes you could handle being sick in the winter with a runny nose or getting mild colds in the spring, but being sick during summer time was the worst. You’d be struggling to breathe through mucus-filled lungs and you wouldn’t be able to swallow anything without triggering a terrible ache in your phlegm-filled throat due to post-nasal drip. You’d be feeling like ridding yourself of anything resting in your insides, from toxins to food; you wouldn’t be eating or ingesting anything except water and the constant sensation of feeling faint weighing you down would seem like it were about to kill you prematurely as the sweat from a high fever made you feel immeasurably weak, like a helpless child trapped in the confines of your own body.

“Are you okay?” the cashier by the counter— not the one who’s usually there, though, so you presume that this one’s a replacement— asks as you’re lost in your own thoughts, “I can give you an umbrella. For free.”

You’d insist on paying if you had any cash, but your now empty wallet reminds you of the fact that you’re all out. You have a tiny quibble with the kind lady before she finally gives in, and you’re off on your way back home.

Even upon further inspection as you exit the store, she still seems like a run-off-the-mill cashier. She seems to be in her early 20s, some college student back for the summer part-timing at the local convenience store for extra cash, maybe— with a sort of wistful yet coltish smile and a mole by the side of her right eye.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be so insistent on not doing things if those things’ll do you good,” she tells you, “I mean— I know that sounds kinda mean, and that in asian cultures like ours we naturally say stuff that deprecates ourselves, but I really do think that you should, um… how do I say it?” she ponders aloud, “Aha! —Yes, you should just look out for yourself and let people help you. It does everybody a little better. And, you know, you’ll be able to live life without regrets, because there won’t really be an opportunity cost for letting people help you, and they’ll like helping you too. I mean, who doesn’t like helping others? Wait, you get what I mean, right?”

“...it sounded like you were rambling,” you tell her, then step back, “Um. Sorry.”

“No, no! It’s fine! Like, um, you and I are kinda similar in that regard, I guess? We’re both awkward and we’re strangers but I just thought that the advice would do you some good, you know?”

“Ah— I get it, sorry,” you repeat, “It’s just that… I’m not used to that, maybe? I don’t want to be a burden on others.” Not anymore.

She purses her pink-glossed lips. “It’ll be hard to live like that, you know. If you live like that you won’t know who you are.”

It’s strange to hear that from a literal stranger. What’s even stranger is how deep the conversation is. Wasn’t this the time to make small talk? You didn’t talk to strangers very often, especially those in stores and all. At least not for this long.

“I… uh. I’ll see— I guess…” you mutter. The conversation dies there. You really aren’t suited for things like that. You can only find it easy to communicate and speak in that way when it’s with Tsumiki or your parents. Otherwise, you’d be stuttering and muttering your way through valleys of words that you don’t know if you should use, people demanding you speak up, or people commenting on how awkward you are, even if they mean so endearingly. You don’t know the source of the problem, really— maybe it was puberty and the onslaught of new, different people you had to talk to every time you moved? Maybe it is that. But this is your predicament: you used to be able to talk to people and over the years that just went away.

And it’s especially bad with people your age— the last time you’d been able to talk to someone your age in a normal, non-cloddish manner, was probably when you were eight.

Oh.

When you exit the shop, the sky’s been dipped in the sunset and it looks like a mix of purple and pink hues have been laid onto it like watercolour paint on fresh paper. The cashier waves you goodbye anyway, claiming that she hopes you’ll come back soon— you hope she doesn’t hate you now, else you’d avoid this convenience store like the plague for the next few months. The plastic bag rustles and crinkles as its contents bump against your knees.

The air is still thick with petrichor and the breaths you take feel light and fresh, brushing against the inner walls of your lungs as you breathe in and out. There are water residuals left on the sidewalk in patches.

Suddenly it changes— and you don’t notice this until after it happens. The air grows heavy and everything around you feels volatile, like their constituents will be separated from each other at any moment, turned into a mangled mass of jostling particles; your ears feel as if they’re so intensely covered to the point that you find it difficult to catch a breath; you can’t bring your lungs to continue moving after that hitched breath you made once you felt it. There’s something in the air, something disgusting and thick and suffocating. It fills you with ominousness. It fills you with a feeling of sickness, of suffering, of shame and fear and sadness, and it’s lurking somewhere, somewhere in the dark.

Cursed energy.

You remember your father talking about it, mentioning how it felt in passing.

Oh no.

“Help!” a voice erupts— it’s the same voice from the cashier, except this time it isn’t pleasant, it’s frantic, no— downright terrified.

If there is anything you’d consider yourself it isn’t someone who saved others.

Beyond the geographical sense of the word, you were the embodiment of stasis; something that didn’t touch others at all and made no effort to do so. You’d have no effect on any others’ life and for a long time you’d accepted you’d live a life amounting to nothing. You knew that and walked into life thinking you’d just keep doing nothing until you died for some nondescript reason.

So you didn’t really care about your future, and you abstained from thinking of the morality behind your actions because what was there to judge, anyway? You just had to follow what everyone else did, and none of your actions were so monumental to change anything. Being guilty over doing too little or doing nothing at all wouldn’t change anything; you didn’t have the power to change it and you didn’t see the point of a Sisyphean life like such. Even if humanity would have tugged at your shoulder to do something and be removed from that state of stasis, you were sure everyone felt the same and the amalgamation of this was society’s indifference— after all, what was humanity, kindness, against society’s apathy, its enemy; what was humanity when placed against what it had built itself into?

Thus for all your fourteen years of life you did nothing at all to change the trajectory of anything. It would be no use doing and no use trying. Nothing would come out of it in the end.

As long as you could be useful to your parents, or at least the people around you, you didn’t have to care about being good or bad or kind or evil.

You’d lived like that for a long time. You’re not the type to save people, not the type to help those you know nothing of.

You look down at your clenched fists, at her hair tie and its cherry-red hue.

She did say you’d be good at it.

It’s strange to think of your best friend now, but damn it, you really want to be like her now. You need to.

Else you wouldn’t be able to live; you have the power to help people, right? And you’re probably one of the only people on this island with the ability to do so. At the very least you’ve got some cursed energy, and you’ve always been able to heal from injuries really quickly. You’ve seen enough, from simple shikigami to veils and simple domains cast by your father.

So there may be a chance, a one in a million chance. And you’re willing to take it. If you don’t take it now and find that in the future you could have helped someone who would have gotten injured or worse— it’s now of all times that you think you wouldn’t be able to ever forgive yourself for such a thing.

You can’t change the directions of others’ lives. At least not if you keep thinking like that.

You grind your teeth and turn back, leaving the bags on the sidewalk. You’ll get them later. This is a ridiculous idea and you’re doing it anyway and your mind is screaming at your frozen legs to move and keep running, idiot, keep fucking moving because you’ve got to save someone you may just be able to save. Someone you don’t know, who may just be able to help. She said that you shouldn’t deny things that can help you, after all. And she has to be helped, right? So you’re going to jump in and you won’t deny yourself from saving yourself from a life of guilt. And you’re going to be useful, too. You’re going to help.

You really have to do this and all of a sudden you think you may be crying. But you run forward anyway. You’re going to move away from that state of stasis; you’re going to change and shift and move; finally, it’s liberating and frightening and feels like living as you step into the store.

Your lungs are burning.

The curse looms over, a deformed, monstrous thing with its eyes and hands drowning in the mud-like substance it consists of.

You’re going to make this work. You’ve seen your own cells once or twice before in science classes and all, you remember how your father had the old microscope he used to use for work, and brought it out for you to look at what made you. You’re your father’s daughter so you’ll make this work, your promise yourself— and you think of those cells, you conjure that image of them in your head and focus on them shifting, changing to make something new. You force them to multiply by the millions in a tenth of a minute, then you cut them off from your body. You make a tiny blister and goodness you can’t imagine you can actually do it but you’ve got to digress from that and worry about the college student cashier first, and how she’s trembling at the sight before her.

There’s a bruise on her arm, and so you’ve got to examine the situation: she’s holding it to her chest so you can imagine she’s only been wounded on the skin and hasn’t been scratched or anything. You imagine her cells— they mustn’t look too different from yours— and heal them back up, the blotch of a bruise disappearing as if wiped over by a stain remover. “Calm down!” you shout at her, and you really don’t mean to, but adrenaline and anxiety and the whole situation are getting your heart pounding unlike ever before.

“Wait— don’t touch that thing!” she shouts, “You’ll end up getting bruised by the hands!”

So what next? —Cursed energy alone can kill other curses if there’s enough of it, right? And your mother told you about how some people imbue things with cursed energy.

Then you run to the curse slapping it with as much force as you can muster, and it’s arms outstretch to snatch you and force you all around, hitting you abrasives against the shelves of the buns you bought earlier, scraping your skin against the surface of the counter’s edge or nearly smashing your shoulder against the wall, but you keep your hand on any part of it no matter what. You surge your cursed energy, splitting part of it to heal your wounds and the other part of it to overload it with cursed energy. The more intense you get, the harder it hits. But you can’t give up— you’re going to commit to it and stick to something; you’re going to do something that’ll amount to another thing for once. The sight of the cashier hiding under the counter, hunched and praying is enough for you to keep going. She doesn’t deserve that.

You load it with all the cursed energy you can manage as a rookie— you don’t think this is as much as a rookie has, though, so you probably have a lot and you promise you’re coming out of this thing alive. For once you’re going to swear you’ll keep living this intensely.

Eventually it fizzles out, its energy, and you just keep overloading it with cursed energy. You’ve still got a lot left. That’s good. Extremely so.

It bursts all over the convenience store, the ways it was made of. It’s going to be hassle to clean. You fall on the ground face flat and heal yourself. There’s a nosebleed, you think, from such a large amount of cursed energy. You’re panting heavier than you’ve ever done in your from any race or PE class.

But you’ve discovered that you are the type to help others. You’ve discovered that you can change others’ lives if you want to.

And it’s really frightening, but you’re happy. You don’t have to be a jujutsu sorcerer— you know too little of curses’ organic matter to be able to do this without making it alive yourself— but you’re going to devote your life to helping others.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll be a doctor in that world, a nurse, or something. You won’t have to be too involved in its inner workings; you won’t be on the front lines. Still, you’ll help and you’ll be useful. You’ll help and your life will be a good one to live, hopefully.

Shakily, she moves up. You’re shaking too, gooseflesh and cold sweat and temperatures going wild in and on your body.

“A-are you okay?” she asks.

“Oh— uhm, yeah!” you say, rubbing the blood off your philtrum. You’ll have to have a really long shower once you get back. Maybe you’ll draw a bath or something. “Sorry, I… uh— I should have asked you to go outside or something. Could you not tell anyone about this? If you’re injured anywhere I’ll try my best to patch you up as long as you don’t tell anyone about this.”

“I— okay… god, you’re just a kid,” she goes, “What happened back there, actually?”

“Have you ever seen stuff like that before? Like that monster?”

“…no.”

“Oh, I see. Well, don’t worry about it, because there are people who take care of stuff like that. You seeing it was just a one-time thing. It probably won’t ever happen again!” you say, holding your thumb up. “Promise not to tell anyone, okay?”

“Alright. Just… you okay? Want me to help you with anything? I mean, it’s pretty late now.”

“I’ll be okay. But I think I’ve got to go home now. Could you let me see any injuries you had got just now, first?”

28-6-2016

You only arrive back at midnight. The weather’s fully put a stop to its torrents and your parents are worried sick. You’re so tired you could faint— fighting the curse took more out of your mental energy than you thought it would, and you have a splitting headache as the result of it.

When they see you and sense the cursed energy, you explain whatever happened. Once you’re done your father shudders, and your mother stands up.

“Whatever it is, I’m not letting you be a jujutsu sorcerer,” she states resolutely, “I’m never going to let you be one.”

27-12-2016

The date you and Megumi have agreed on (with the help of Tsumiki as a sort of middleman) is about a week after his fourteenth birthday.

Your parents told you to be careful— it’s a long trip to and from Tokyo, and you’re going all alone.

This is the travel plan: fly from Kagoshima to Tokyo, stay at Megumi and Tsumiki’s for a while, and ultimately find the courage to hand him the letter before you leave. Maybe you’ll see if he still cares for you while you’re at it.

To be honest you don’t completely feel like going there anymore— you’ll always love Tokyo, it’s just that things will be painfully awkward between you and Megumi. So you remind yourself of Tsumiki, and that you’re mostly doing this for her. Any of the three of you can be the glue holding the other two together at any given moment, and now it’s Tsumiki playing that role.

Friends will always be above boys, anyway. So you’re doing this for Tsumiki and not him or yourself.

When you’re finally at the airport, Tsumiki greets you with a hug and Megumi in tow. You’ve her old hair tie on your wrist— it’s come in handy multiple times since then. They both look so different now: Tsumiki’s still tall, but her hair has grown longer, more luscious and she looks so pretty you understand why she had received so many anonymous confession letters on Valentine’s Day this year. Megumi’s taller too, and though it’s slightly embarrassing the first thing you think of when you see him is how handsome he looks, at least as far as boys your age go. The viridian of his eyes is a lush summer day in a capsule, a contrast to his jet black hair spiking in all directions and his eyelashes— and those, too, those eyelashes, goodness— they look like they were woven by silk or taken off a doll: they’re so unbelievably long and curly and pretty. Your face is as hot as an oven that’s about to bake up a whole cake and let it expand and rise. They’re the kind of people you see on television, each so beautiful like the other and you almost feel as if you’re intruding; you can’t imagine how out of place you must look with them from the eyes and viewpoints of other people.

“Tsumiki!” you grin as you’re still kept in her arms, “Long time no see!”

“[Name]! Finally! Oh, you look so pretty now!”

“Haha, really? I was thinking the same about you, though. I’m so happy to see you, seriously!”

“Me too!”

You step back and pull away.

“Hi, Megumi,” you say. You’re nervous, but you can’t deny you’re happy. You smile as you look at him— the two of you are no longer the same height anymore. You tug at the straps of your bag, feeling the weight of you pulling the straps down on your shoulder. “…it’s nice to see you again.”

“…nice to see you again, too.”

Why’d he have to stop talking to you? Why’d he have to avoid you? “How’s… um, how’s everything?”

A glimpse from your peripheral vision shows Tsumiki with sparks in her eyes. She really was so excited— and maybe a little too hopeful, because you don’t think anything will happen at all. The incident from June makes you feel like you should try to hope for something, though. But you probably won’t be completing this trip with a new boyfriend kissing your neck or something.

“It’s been okay,” he answers.

“…it’s the same for me.”

“That’s good to know.”

You take the train back with them, breathing in how crowded Tokyo is once again. When you’d first arrived six years ago you felt like a country bumpkin, the masses of people turned into one giant entity never once fathomed by your eight year old mind. Now you’re fourteen, and the lights with their neon sparks, the dark concrete bathed in streetlights when the sun sets, the moon hanging overhead over a multifaceted maze of buildings— it feels a bit like coming home, even if you only called it home for a little less than twelve months of a life spanning some number roughly around five thousand, one hundred and ten days.

You really love Tokyo. But more than that you love the people you met in it during what feels like a lifetime ago.

The cold air that you breathe in as the three of you walk and take the turn to their house fills your lungs, settling into them like they never left.

“—And you remember that old maths teacher?” Tsumiki laughs, “‘You children have to harness your mental prowess!’” she quotes, holding two fingers on each hand up in the air.

“Oh my god,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes, “I was so sick of him last time— bet he’d feel old as hell now if he saw us all grown up like this.”

“We saw him last week,” Megumi adds, “That old geezer expected college-level intelligence from bunches of feral eight and nine year old kids.”

“I mean, you were a smart kid, Megumi,” you recall, “Tsumiki too. But that guy, seriously…”

“Hey! You were a smart kid too, [Name]! But was there anyone who didn’t hate him last time?”

“Never, probably,” you agree, “He was so infuriating. Ugh— Oh! We’re here! I haven’t been here in so long, oh my goodness…”

Megumi works the key in and opens the door. You inhale the scent of their house, a mosaic of memories and old book pages. Places like these deserve to remain treasured forever.

The three of you step in. Smiley Tsumiki, frowny Megumi and you. This is the home that will never leave you no matter what. This is what you’d call home even if you’re not in Tokyo, or away from them, because it felt like a constant for a year and that was enough to feel like you went to it at least five times a week for less than a full year.

It feels good to be home. It feels better to call it that after years of not feeling as if you really ever had one at all.

28-12-2016

You can’t sleep.

They’ve helped you unpack all your things, you’re clad in pyjamas and have had a thorough shower, and the white blanket on the futon is warm on the inside and cold on the outside— perfect for sleeping comfortably. But you can’t get a wink of sleep.

Since you’d first discovered that you could, in fact, use cell manipulation, your nights had always been like this.

To use it properly with your own organic matter, cell manipulation requires cooperation with your brain and your stomach— the source of cursed energy. Imagining the cells enough and applying cursed energy to them required your brain to overload itself with both cursed energy and information, and adding commands to that, making yourself do even the slightest bit of actions with your cells— felt like leaving your brain in the microwave. The fact that your gut— for your cursed energy— and your brain— for command and control— had to work together added more of a headache on top of that. Headaches and nosebleeds and your brain being unable to shut down became what you were used to.

Did you keep doing it anyway? Yes— you still had the intention of helping people with it, after all. You held on to the hope that you could be a doctor or a nurse for jujutsu sorcerers or something, not an actual sorcerer in that world itself. You assumed your mother would be fine with that at least. You’d be satisfied with something like that as well, even at the cost of your sleep and health. You were still young, and the only two people who could do anything like this were you and your over fifty year old father. And you didn’t want him doing that at all for any longer.

Clang–!

The water bottle on the bedside table falls to the carpeted floor with a bang against the wood under it— you rush to pick it up with as little sound as you can manage.

Stealthily, you step out of bed. If your memory serves you right, the kettle should be on top of the drawer next to the oven.

You’ll drink some hot water or tea and lull yourself to a peaceful night eventually, you decide.

Then there’s a knock on the door. It’s light— so light that it would be inaudible had you stayed on the bed instead of moving nearer to the door, and so soft even the lightest of sleepers wouldn’t hear it. So whoever this is, they must know that you’re awake. You’re sure you wouldn’t have caught it at all and for a second you wonder whether there really was someone knocking the door after all. Tsumiki seems to be fast asleep, though— you can hear her muffled snoring from the other side of the wall. Thank goodness she’s a heavy sleeper. You’re not too sure about how Megumi fares in that sense.

You turn the cold metal knob and open the door.

In the dim light the front of his body’s barely visible, its glow only tracing the outline of his left shoulder from the back.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask, keeping your voice as soft as you can to prevent cracking your voice once you’ve started speaking.

“I heard something,” Megumi answers, “Did you fall?”

“It was just my water bottle. Did I wake you up? Sorry.”

“No, don’t worry about that.”

“Why’re you still awake?”

He places his hand on the door frame, voice lower than earlier that night. “Why are you? It’s way past midnight,” he adds, “...I couldn’t fall asleep either, to be honest…”

“Insomnia, huh?” you go, “This happens to me all the time, too.”

“No, it only happens once in a while,” he remarks, “Usually I sleep pretty well.”

“Oh. You wanna come inside? We can, like, talk, or something. We can catch up.”

“Sure.”

You guide him over to the edge of the bed, and he shuts the door before he sits down beside you. There is no way you can think to describe this other than saying that it’s strange, really: the boy you had a crush on six years ago, who was one of your closest friends, has grown more than thirty centimetres, and the aura surrounding the two of you is more awkward than any conversation you’ve ever had in your life. Neither of you question why the light isn’t turned on, and neither of you head to the bedside table to flip the light switch anyway, so the scene in their guest room is of two fourteen year old— about to be fifteen year olds in a little over three days, though— kids in the dark either reminiscing over memories or trying to catch up despite having changed so much.

“So how’s life?” you start.

“Nothing much happens at all, honestly. Wait, [Name]—” When he says your name it’s like your chest makes one full leap. “—I think I should let you know, six years ago, the dog you saw—”

“I already know about all that,” you tell him, “My parents told me. …hey, wanna see something I can show you with my own cursed technique?”

“...okay.”

You hold your hand out.

“It may be hard to see it in the dark, but…”

He turns the light on for you before you finish and you thank him. It must have been silly to try and show it to him when everything was engulfed in the night despite the fact that you were closer to the switch. You lean back as he outstretches his arm to do it.

“See?” You hold your hand up, palm displayed and facing him, before closing your eyes and imagine your heaps of skin cells and red blood cells. You’re bound to have a headache by tomorrow, but it’ll be worth it. At least there’s something you can show him, something new you can let him know of. This was ‘catching up’, anyway.

“[Name]!” He whispers, but the urgency in his voice is clear. You close the wound up immediately, speeding through a healing process that would have taken days to be completed in the span of a few seconds. Tomorrow you’re going to end up having a nosebleed, too.

“Are you alright?” he goes, “Your nose is bleeding.”

“Is it?” you reply, smiling, “Don’t worry. It’s just that I’m not that used to it yet. I guess if I trained my body even more, it would be able to handle it better.”

His hand strays to yours, most likely out of worry. You pull it back.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Sorry if I made you worry.”

“...I don’t think you should strain yourself,” he begins. It’s like how you and your father speak to each other— how funny. “If your own cursed technique does that to your body, it’s better if you don’t use it at all.”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, “I’m not going to use it in fights or anything, either.”

“You won’t become a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“No,” you explain, “I mean, my dad was one and he quit a while ago, but I know it’ll be hard to hold on and do so much with this during fights. I may just be like, backup, or a doctor or nurse, or something. You?”

“I think it’s pointless to save others.”

Wow, cringey much. Reminds you of yourself six months ago.

You don’t press it any further.

“But… about doctors and all, there are people like that. Only one, to be more specific.”

“Oh, well then— what's her name? I’d love to meet her.”

“Ieiri Shoko. Want me to introduce her to you?”

29-12-2016

He does try to take you to visit her the next day. You think the reason why he’s doing this is to avoid catching up, or at least actually talking about something beyond a superficial level. You think that if that’s the truth behind this then you must be at fault too because you let him take you there with no hesitation whatsoever. Like adding opaque white tape over a fully painted canvas.

But he fails because of the man over the phone. It’s probably that Gojo guy, that benefactor. Now that you know how strong he is in terms of sorcery, you guess that since he’s taking care of Megumi, Megumi’s probably a massive deal too.

“No, I’m just asking if she can visit right now— no, get your head out of the gutter, damn it!”

He hangs up. “I’m seriously going to punch him,” he states, frowning. So it’s definitely Gojo, then. You remember him being really insufferable by Megumi’s standards. “She’s busy, by the way. …sorry about that.”

“Calm down, it’ll be alright,” you say, “We didn’t have to. Let’s just go around the city like tourists or something. I think that’s better anyway.”

Tsumiki says she can come along with you, but she’ll have to leave at the stop right before Ueno for something important— a sudden appointment with someone, she says— before heading back and reconvening with you and Megumi. The three of you ride the Yamanote Line, but at the stop right before Ueno—your first chosen destination for this trip— Tsumiki has to leave, as she’d said. She apologises profusely. You know she isn’t slick.

You take your phone, texting her.

[Name]

Tsumiki

You ain’t slick

Why

Seriously omfg

[Tsumiki]

Sorry, I would have joined, just wanted to test the waters hehehehe… (>‿◠)✌

I mean you two seem ok

But let me know if anything bad happens okayyy???

You two seem pretty happy with each other though… also, what happened last night?

If you’re up to any hanky panky, don’t do it under our roof (ㆆ_ㆆ)!!

[Name]

Literally so done with you right now -_-

But thanks I guess, I’ll see if we can catch up

AAAAAAHHHHH it’s gonna end up being so awkward I swear

[Tsumiki]

Good luck!! Love you bestieeee

Ttyl okay?? Gimme all the details

“Who’re you texting?” he whispers.

“Just a friend,” you say, as they announce that the train is in Ueno.

The day in Ueno Park goes quite smoothly, really— but there’s still little progress made and the letter seems to be having its screams more drowned out the more you tug on your bag.

“It’s pretty cold,” you comment as the two of you walk around, witnessing everyone else walking around with their huddled-up bundles of clothes and coats on, “Next time, if it’s not too crowded, we should, um… we should visit during autumn or spring. Together.”

“Tsumiki and I can come here anytime. It just depends on you,” he says, a little rougher than you think he intends, “Wait— no, I mean, your timing—”

You giggle slightly. So you’re not the only one who’s gotten more awkward since last time. Now he doesn’t seem the type to be, though— he seems more like those ‘cool’ guys in shoujo mangas; those bad boys who the girls end up changing, or something. Kinda cringey. But the fact that he’s avoiding eye contact and turning his head away evasively so that you don’t see him because of such a little slip-up in his phrasing is really, really cute. At least that’s what you think. It’s not like any other people would think the same, probably because of that frown or the fact that his voice doesn’t seem any flustered at all. But you think that’s okay. That makes it so that there’s more for you to appreciate, maybe. “It’s fine,” you reassure him.

“...I brought a camera, by the way,” he says, digging for it in his pocket. The camera itself seems like one from the 2000s— it’s the small type with the wrist strap, and the buttons on the side and all. “It’s… old, though.”

“Oh! That looks nice!” you comment. It really does. Your bag’s strap— the damn thing— slips off your shoulder again and you’ve got to put it back securely in place. Your shoulder hurts and you regret bringing so much with you.

“Want me to hold your bag for you…?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you say, “It’s just that it goes off my shoulder sometimes and it can be pretty heavy. I packed too much stuff in it, heh.”

“Then I’ll carry it. Give it here.”

You end up handing him the bag. At least he doesn’t mind how heavy it is, nor does he complain about what you must be packing, or anything. It’s better than being forced to give your parents your things only for them to tell you to pack lighter ones.

“It’s good that we avoided the crowd, but now there aren’t any leaves or flowers…” you start. You hope it doesn’t sound like complaining— that would be awfully rude. “Normally, people would be having picnics here, right?”

“We can still take pictures, though. Wait, can you— can you stand in front of me, here?” he asks, his steps coming to a halt next to a small garden.

“Okay.”

He brings the camera to his eye. “Smile,” he says.

You’ve quite an awkward-looking smile, you think. It’s always bothered you slightly whenever your parents wanted to take pictures of you, but you smile anyway in the picture— you give him your brightest grin. It’s not like either of you will keep it anyway, and you are happy: gratingly awkward or not, you’re still with an old friend.

“Ah, delete that,” you tell him when he shows the picture to you. The backdrop is pretty, though. “You should take a picture of the background. I look so bad in it.”

“It’s a nice picture,” he argues, “You look… nice.”

You shift your line of sight to look at him, unsure if it’s out of incredulousness, or the fact that the whole situation seems to be a little silly, or the fact that he’s looking down at the picture with a gaze that warms your heart a bit. Those eyelids and lashes and green green pupils will be the death of you, you’re sure. You feel you could drown in them at any second. “…thanks.”

He looks back at you.

“I think you look nice too, Megumi.”

It’s really, really cold, but you feel your face heating up. For once in your life it doesn’t feel like something you should be shy of.

30-12-2016

“Could you show me the dog again?” you ask him. He’s on the bed again. Different day, same situation. “Why did it suddenly pop out all those years ago anyway?”

“It was an accident,” he explains, “You know how my Ten Shadows technique comes from the shadows, right? Wait, I should rephrase that—”

“Oh… I mean, don’t worry, you don’t sound rude or anything. I just wanted to see the dog. I mean, I like dogs! I still read books or articles about them every now and then.”

“There are actually two.”

“Two?” you go, wide-eyed and excited.

He summons them out of the ground, one dark with the same red markings, and the other the exact same dog as the one you saw six years ago. He does it effortlessly— there’s no pain involved, no trade-off for getting to show someone his abilities. It’s not like you and your father’s, with your headaches and nosebleeds and vertigo every time you use it even if it’s for something simple like opening up a wound and closing it, or creating tiny blisters. How terribly inconvenient it was for you, and how easy it was for Megumi to use it so quickly and painlessly. You were slightly jealous of him for it.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” you say, petting the white one. It cuddles up to you. The one with dark, fluffy fur does the same and you’ve got each palm on each dog’s head.

You turn your head back to face him. “Thank you, Megumi.”

“...it’s nothing.”

What a classic Megumi-like thing to say.

15-4-2017

Freshly fifteen years old, you know one thing. The friends you meet at this age are probably the best you’ll ever have.

You’re still training your cursed technique from time to time if only for leisure or any emergencies since your mother’s absolutely determined to keep you from being one. But you’re in a new place again— your parents have chosen to move back to Sendai— where they lived and got married before you came along, and everything considered things aren’t as bad as when you had to leave to and from Tokyo.

It all started with the class’s seating arrangement. You sat down after one of the classes, preparing yourself for a year where you had to search through the whole school for friends or spend it alone as you watched everyone else fall into their groups from the previous year like dozens of tiny puzzle pieces clicking into place again.

The clique in front of you is all looking at this one guy with unkempt hair as pink as cherry blossoms, or MyMelody’s pink ribbon. He’s got a boyish grin on his face that honestly makes him out to be a pretty nice guy.

“Hey!” a guy greets, his hand up as he’s smiling at you, “My name’s Itadori Yuuji. What’s yours?”

He’s kind of tall, is a really smiley guy, and seems like he’d be pretty popular. He reminds you of a friendly puppy. Or one of those really, really cute seals people make videos of in aquariums.

You tell him your name. “You… uh, you seem pretty popular, Itadori.”

He pauses and turns his head up like he’s thinking. “Well… now that you mention it, I guess so,” he states, hand scratching the back of his neck, “They’re pretty cool, though. Don’t worry!”

“Oh…”

“Anyway, where ya from?”

“I–uh. I mean, my parents move a lot,” you say, “So I guess you could say I don’t know where I’m from, myself? Sendai’s my parents’ hometown, though. And they wanted to be back for a while. So I transferred here.”

“Cool! So you’ve got to see a lot of stuff?”

“Uh. Kind of?”

He drags a seat from behind him before facing you. The way he sits is comfortable; it’s almost funny— you’re so awkward, so rigid like a frozen statue, and he’s actively trying to melt it, but the ice is still cold and barely broken. Poor Itadori, you think, He’s talking to someone who doesn’t know who to talk properly. He’s going to get bored any minute but he’s still going to talk.

“Like, um…” you think, “Oh! I went to the Tanegashima space centre a while back.”

“Woah!” he goes, with excitement in his eyes like fireworks sparkles, “Wish I could go to space one day. Maybe it’ll be like something in Passengers.”

It’s only the space centre, though? Not space itself, you think. But you guess that’s okay— something, something, men are perfect when they’re a little dumb. You don’t know that much about idols. “I haven’t seen it yet, but uh, sounds nice, I guess? And you don’t look like the type to watch sci-fi movies… but maybe I’ll watch it one of these days. I don’t watch a lot of movies, though.”

“I mean, it’s got Jennifer Lawrence in it,” he says, “She’s my favourite actress!”

That makes a lot of sense. “…really? I’ve only seen her in clips from the Hunger Games a few times. I mean, I heard she’s had other pretty good movies, though, like… what was it called… Silver Linings something? I don’t know, uhm.”

“Oh, Silver Linings Playbook?” he says, excitement dazzling in his eyes again, “Man, you haven’t lived if you haven’t seen them. I’ll drag you along with me sometime to watch it!”

“Ah,” you go, unsure of what to say, “Um… nice! Thanks!”

Over the course of the next few months you learn a few things about Itadori Yuuji. He loves horror movies and Jennifer Lawrence with a passion, is a sterling athlete and freakishly good at sports, and has a smile that makes people turn to face him like sunflowers to bright summer sunlight. And he knows you too— knows that you mildly loathe all genres of nonfiction save for books about animals (especially dogs), that you prefer when things are busy even if you may enjoy the quiet, and that the two of you are people who really, really ought to just take a train to Tokyo and have kaiten sushi together one day.

Also, you can admit that you have some degree of a crush on him— him and that damned smile. Seriously, how could anyone not? You watch him sometimes during PE, eyeing the way he moves, and that guy can move, alright: he swerves so naturally it makes you swoon, jumps up and down with might and energy, can carry people around like they’re boxes of tissues. He’s swift but his movements aren’t frenetic; they’re controlled and he demonstrates such mastery over his body that no one who sees him wouldn’t be amazed. And he’s a nice guy— your parents have met him at least twice by chance, and they love him. Your father talks about how he’s a nice, handsome boy, and your mother mentions how he’d be an ideal son-in-law.

Poor Itadori, you think to yourself whenever they say it, giggling, Maybe they’ll let up soon enough, and they’ll realise that you’re just a really good friend.

You’re still not going to act on your feelings, though. You never will; you’re never going to act on anything. So you’ll fade away like a spectator, only trying to talk to him because guess what? You like it, you like talking to him and spending time with him even if you know he doesn’t like you back and sees you as just a friend. He’s still a fun guy and he always will be.

In a way it feels almost liberating, like a breath of fresh air from what happened a year ago: lighthearted crushes like these are a quintessential element of the teenage girl experience, and even if you’d always fit the bill for an ordinary teenage girl, another part of that would probably be not feeling like a normal teenage girl at all. So having this and not being hurt, having this and having fun— is great. Maybe if you get over him and start crushing on someone else, you’ll get to try having a boyfriend by the end of your last year in junior high. Sounds pretty neat if you do say so yourself. Having a partner sounds interesting.

“Itadori. Um… they’re going to release a new Jennifer Lawrence movie,” you say, standing behind him as the other friends around him stare at you. You aren’t too close to them, but hey— he was right. Some of them were pretty okay, cool people.

“Ah, yeah! I’m watching that too!”

“Oh, great! I mean, it’s right up your alley, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, “Wanna watch it together?” You blush and he continues, “I can bring the other guys too.” He gestures to the boys behind him with his thumb. You don’t know them very well— hell, they probably don’t know your name much less like you— but that’s okay. Itadori is a great guy to spend time with and whether it’s scream-singing karaoke in a language you can’t speak at his house, joking and horsing around while his grandfather frowns on the dining table, or learning how to cook meatballs he says are easy to make— you’re guaranteed to have fun with him no matter what.

“Sure.”

So: now you have a new guy you’re crushing on, because the last one took so long for you to get over, and you’re not sure if you’re completely over the last one, but you know you’re not going to talk to him that much anymore. And this new guy’s sweet, a hundred times better, and even if this all-in-one perfect guy doesn’t like you back, you’ll say it again: you think Itadori is awfully fun and nothing can change that.

Life is going pretty okay, you think. Life is becoming something you’re getting the hang of. Maybe, just maybe.

2-1-2017

“Guess I’m going back, now…” you sigh, zipping your luggage bag up. It’s a cold day outside— each time you press your fingers against a window, or even touch a door knob or any cold metal, it freezes you up. It’s just inconvenient, for now— if you could, you could even use cell manipulation to keep yourself warm, but that would just be too much effort wasted on too little of a cold winter day in early January.

New Year’s had just been a trip to the local shrine with them— this time Tsumiki had to come too, so she didn’t sabotage you and leave the two of you alone— and the days have gone by relatively peacefully. When your parents call you up they’re always relieved to just see you sitting on the bed or seated on their dining table eating meals with the two of them.

“You’ve still a few hours left here, don’t worry,” Tsumiki says, “Let’s make the most of it!”

Despite how awkward things were, you’d say you enjoyed being with Megumi and Tsumiki the past few days— mainly Megumi, though, because Tsumiki’s been conveniently leaving anytime you and Megumi are about to go anywhere together.

“Has anything interesting happened lately? Any action?” she asks.

“Pft— no, not really. Haven’t even given him the letter…”

“Aw…” she starts, “It’s alright if you don’t want to force yourself or anything, but I really think it would do him good to read it and that it’d do you even better if you passed it to him. He cares about you more than you think.”

“Uh-huh, that’s good to know,” you say, “At the very least, we’re friends, still. I’ll get over him eventually— I mean, I think I already have, since I’m not praying for him to be my boyfriend or something.”

“Oh…” she goes, “Well, whatever it is, I’m supporting you!” she smiles, patting you lightly on the head.

“Thanks.”

She leaves for something quick before Megumi arrives back, which you think does him good because he comes back with enough bruises and patches on his face to completely drive Tsumiki up the wall.

“Woah— you okay?” You rush to him. “What happened?”

He groans. He reminds you of a stray dog sometimes, really. Even more so now than before.

“S-sit down,” you say. He follows your instructions. “I’ll try to heal you, don’t worry.”

Since you discovered you had your cursed technique, you’ve only used it to heal others besides yourself once when you helped rid the cashier from the store of her bruises. It’s been half a year since then, and you’re still getting used to using it on yourself. Still, you let him sit on the sofa anyway.

“You probably shouldn’t. I can handle this on my own. If you do this to yourself then you’ll be over-exerting your body.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” you chuckle, “Let me take care of you. And if I get a nosebleed or a headache, you can take care of me too. Heheh. That’s how things like this work, right? We take care of each other. So I can heal your wounds for you and you can take care of me if I get any of my cursed technique’s side-effects.”

You place your hand on his face for your cursed energy to get to him— you’d be able to do it without touching him, but the more the better— and you feel how his breath hitches when you do so. His skin is cold, and so very smooth, like the soft cotton blankets they have in their house. Slowly, you visualise his cells changing, shifting, until his skin looks pristine and good as new.

“…and…there.”

Then your nose bleeds. “Ah— hate it when this happens, honestly.”

“See? I told you not to strain yourself.” He gets up and places a tissue to your nose. “Lean your head back. Please.”

You follow his instructions as he did yours. “So what happened?” you ask, only able to view either his face or the ceiling. “How’d you get injured?”

“Nothing, just… I… got into a fight.”

“Wh— a fight? That’s dangerous!” you frown, “What happened in the first place? Someone picked on you?”

“No, they were just picking on someone else. People like that shouldn’t be able to trample on others.”

“So what are you, the police?” you argue, “You shouldn’t hurt people, nor should you let them hurt you. It’s bad for you, you know?”

“The basis of all kinds of human interaction isn’t being kind,” he claims, “It’s avoiding violating someone’s dignity, and I despise the people who ignore this rule just to make themselves feel powerful.”

And that pisses you off a little. Because for all his sister’s kindness and forgiving spirit, her brother cares less for being able to forgive others than for reading books until one AM in the morning or something along those lines.

The weather becomes that little bit colder and you go against him.

“Well, yeah— I hate bullies too. It’s just… ugh, why’d you have to get yourself hurt over this? It really isn’t good to have injuries. Who’s to say anything life-threatening won’t happen? It’s not like you’re invincible.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, seriously,” you retort, “Do you fight often or something? You know, no matter how many times you come out unscathed, it’s not like you’ll even be alive the next. What if these bullies aren’t the worst and there are some gangsters or something who kill you one day?”

“In my school?” he goes.

“Uh-huh— and you seriously sound kinda self-righteous, too. I mean, who gives you the right to judge? Just don’t be an asshole and you’ll be fine, and it’s not like being an asshole to the assholes is gonna do anything.”

“No, I just can’t handle people who step all over others.”

“Me neither, but why can’t you just be nice?” you go, “I don’t know, what do boys do? Talk to each other, make friends or something. Forgive each other. Just be nice. That’s what I think the basis of human interaction is. It’s helping people when you can, and stuff. That’s what the basis of life is, even.”

“You sound like Tsumiki.”

“Oh, well. I’d rather take that as a compliment even if it wasn’t intended to be by her own brother. I seriously used to think you were better than that, honestly. That sounds so emo— ‘Oh, the world isn’t inherently kind and so we should be tolerable to each other at best and horrible to the ones who aren’t tolerable at worst.’ What a joke.”

“Seriously?” he frowns, not raising his voice, but definitely angered, “You’re worse, really. You and Tsumiki and that hypocritical sense of forgiveness. It’s probably because you read too many fiction books last time.”

“I can’t believe I’m taking that from an antisocial guy who reads boring-ass non-fiction all the time and beats middle school bullies up to act high and mighty over them. You’re giving me secondhand embarrassment. You should be out with people our age buying sodas from vending machines or something— jeez, you’re just a fucking kid. Just be nice and save people if you have the power to— especially if you can do it without having to do things at your own expense. That’s the easiest way to do things in life. And who says you aren’t a hypocrite too? You think you’re some kind of judge in court or something—?”

“—You have cell manipulation, right? So use your brain! I’ve already told you that it’s pointless to save people. Good people who are too merciful to bad people are just as disgusting as bad people too prideful over themselves.”

“Ew— good and bad? What happened to just living life? Just live it, seriously, it’s not like everything can be split into two categories like that. You just sound so— ugh— stop being so immature—!”

“Megumi!” Tsumiki says when she opens the door. “[Name]! What happened? Did the two of you fight? Why were you fighting? What—!”

“No, no! Just bickering over something small,” you tell her, “I had a nose bleed all of a sudden.”

“Tch. Something small?” Megumi scoffs.

“Stop fighting, the two of you,” Tsumiki orders, her voice firm yet still soft and sweet.

The next few hours move painfully quietly.

3-1-2017

“I’m really sorry it had to be at midnight like this,” you say.

“No, no, it’s fine!” Tsumiki grins, “We wanted to come, anyway. We still have to give you a proper send-off.”

You breathe in. “…okay. I’ll visit again, I promise. Maybe next year, but at a better time, okay?”

“Alright, alright. Well— you’ve got to go now,” Tsumiki says, hugging you. You hear her sniffling even though you can’t see her face.

“Okay. Bye, Megumi. Bye, Tsumiki.”

“Bye, [Name]! Take care of your health, okay? We should stick together no matter what, the three of us.”

You’re still a little angry at Megumi. You haven’t passed him the letter.

You’ll live. You hope you can, at least. You’re better off not ending up with or confessing to a guy who thinks like he does.

It’s for Tsumiki, you tell yourself. And it grounds you.

“…I will.”

“…bye,” Megumi says, avoiding eye contact.

And as you get on the train and they’re waving you off, you should have taken a picture, or a video, or something. Something to keep that moment in place. There’s Tsumiki— smiley Tsumiki— with her signature warm grin and the faintest of tears in her eyes, with her hand raised up to wave at you. Then Megumi— frowny Megumi— older and taller and angry at you.

You really should have kept things there, or apologised to her again for anything and everything, apologised to both of them for any trouble you’ve caused them, or thanked them a trillion times over, but you didn’t.

And you regret this forever. Because this is the last time you see Fushiguro Tsumiki, the girl who changed the trajectory of your life.

taglist:

@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored

(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)

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rewordthis · 2 years

Text

I posted 257 times in 2022

That's 219 more posts than 2021!

7 posts created (3%)

➡️ that’s what you get when your pc dies on February and every time you place an order for a new one it takes 1,5 months to find out it’s cancelled… 🙄 7 is a nice number, though. Wish me luck on finally getting a pc in 2023, please!!!

250 posts reblogged (97%)

💜Blogs I reblogged the most💜:

@radiodread

@kinbari14

@3-aem

@kudouusagi

@arinavah

I tagged 234 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#jujutsu kaisen - 83 posts

#jjk - 81 posts

#gojo satoru - 45 posts

#free! - 40 posts

#itadori yuuji - 39 posts

#fushiguro megumi - 34 posts

#nanami kento - 29 posts

#free! series - 29 posts

#yamazaki sousuke - 29 posts

#nanase haruka - 29 posts

➡️ I see a pattern here… hm 🧐

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#aaaaaaah~ i wanted to whatch them again now that it was re-airing which new visuals before i start the manga but pc be like ☠️ 6months nyaw!

➡️ Pal, there is a mistake in this 🏷️ but I’ll pretend I don’t freak out about it…😬 Kindly replace [which] with [with], ok?

My Top Posts in 2022:

Ok, WHY is tumblr following blogs I don’t even know of???

I’m sorry if you had been unfollowed by me recently, but I never choose to follow your blog in the first place.

Thanks for your understanding…

1 note - Posted April 30, 2022

Free! Birthday Boy

🎉Happy birthday, Sousuke-kun, our champion! 🥇 Congrats! Congrats! Congrats! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

✨ You realised your dream and stood on the highest step of the podium🏆, surrounded by friends! Your unwavering character and kind heart ❤️ will guide you on taller heights for sure!🔝 ✨ Free!💦 may have ended but your story is still ongoing! May you always be strong and victorious in all your endeavours!!! 🔥🔥🔥

Let us meet again in the next fic! 🤗💕

🇯🇵【山崎宗介♍️ ❾/14】🏊🏻‍♂️🫧🫧🫧

2 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

Free! Birthday Boy

Happy birthday, Haruka!🐬

💝 May the water 💦 to always favour you and your friends forever be with you!🫧 🎣 【七瀬遙♋️ ❻/30】🛁

5 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

A Day Like Any Other

Yuuji → Megumi | Sukuna → Megumi

🥛📚

1507 words Itadori Yuuji, Ryomen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi SFW

Summary: Until Episode 16

Hello, guys! Missed me? Long time no fic, huh? Well, let me fix this. Although it’s from another fandom yet again, I still hope you’ll like it.😗

Anyways, as the summary says, this doesn’t include manga spoilers, but as I am getting spoiler-ed over on twttr and the net in general, I think I have stepped on some minor(?) things. So, yes, that’s it for foreword. I really hope you’ll N’joy this little something-something.🤗

Three months.

That’s how long it took for Itadori Yuuji’s cosmotheory to turn upside down.

In this short span of time, Yuuji had learnt that monsters are real. They get born from the negative feelings of humanity and hungrily prey and feed off of peoples’ fear, shame, hate, regret…

… blood.

They bring mayhem into the human lives in order to cause enough pain to illicit such emotions, so they can sustain themselves and grow stronger. With each passing day they remain unresolved, they become more dangerous and harder to deal with. Eventually, these voracious spirits — curses as they’re called — will evolve into these walking, talking, intelligent forms of existence that can take more than just the life of a human being.

These curses, savagely devour the very soul of their victim.

But Yuuji has also learnt, that there’s a secret society that has taken upon fighting these nightmarish things. It’s just a handful of humans with abilities that far exceed what once he considered common sense; the jujutsu sorcerers.

These people are just like any other. They laugh, they cry, they resent.

They however, put their lives on the line with every battle they fight, so that the rest of the world will be safe.

They all do it without expecting anything in return or knowing whether they will be able to get back alive and are forced to silently suffer the losses of their friends in this ever waging war.

Yuuji, admires that kind of resolve.

But as long as it goes through his hand, he will never allow a curse to take anyone from him.

That said, in that same time, he’s gotten painfully aware of some things about himself he’d never admit would rather not have known…

For one, he’s still terribly weak. He’s nowhere near as strong as he considered himself to be when facing these abominations.

Then, comes the fact that he’s actually sane enough to be scared of dying, something he hadn’t been expecting to be of much effect on him since he had made his mind about taking responsibility for helping with Sukuna’s containment.

And finally, there’s his shame over being unable to flatly adhere by his ideals, after having already been forced to cross red lines he’d promised himself would never cross.

And that all, circles back to his weakness.

In the end, he’s helplessly mortal…

Only human.

Yuuji has made these mental workouts several times throughout the past two months, and he’s always left feeling unsatisfied with his progress after reflecting on each breakthrough coupled with a new throwback.

Yuuji furrows his brows and squeezes his closed eyes until it’s nothing but complete blackness.

‘It’s irritating.’

When will he finally be able to protect everyone with his own strength?

See the full post

6 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Gojo-san just checking Nanami out for injuries after getting back from his mission.

Also, “ What is a proper death drawing? I don’t get it!”

18 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

➡️ Why the heck is no.5 a top post???🤣🤣🤣 For no.4-3 I blame YOU, tumblr! I trusted you with my scheduled posts and you were late in posting them! 😤 No.2 was my first JJK post and no.1 is one I’m actually very fond of. 🤗 For the record, I’m super proud of no.2-1 considering how I made them without a pc!!!

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #I got this like in the beginning of the month but whatever #I need to get back to my Free! WIPs and actually finish some oneshots…😮‍💨#do expect delays and more unrelated fandoms though…😗#jjk #free! series

0 notes

irate-pirate-bi-27 · 2 years

Text

I posted 12,692 times in 2022

8 posts created (0%)

12,684 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jewish-harley-quinn

@bisexualr2d2

@spongebobssquarepants

@aromanticgoldfish-deactivated237

@vaguelyprolific

I tagged 1,122 of my posts in 2022

#wwdits spoilers - 375 posts

#our flag means death - 159 posts

#tdp spoilers - 39 posts

#toh spoilers - 30 posts

#dracula daily - 24 posts

#kenobi spoilers - 12 posts

#derry girls spoilers - 10 posts

#prev tags - 4 posts

#literally tho - 4 posts

#ask - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and it’s a bit of a problem because they’re everywhere in my country so i basically can’t go outdoors at night without my heart rate spiking

My Top Posts in 2022:

Baby girl i respect women so much i don’t even know how to spell myssojiny

1 note - Posted October 9, 2022

I had unfollowed you for some reason?? So that's why I haven't been seeing you around! (Sometimes I do an unfollow spree on blogs I don't have an interest anymore and probably unfollowed you by accident, did you know tumblr only allows you to follow 5000 people?? Absurd, right?)

Anyways, that's not why I'm here rn. I know I'm late but I didn't want to not wish you a happy birthday 🎉🎂🎉

So yeah, happy late birthday 😅 hope you had lots of fun and may good things come your way✨

Omg thank you so much!! I’ve had a great birthday weekend so far and this just made it even better <3

And don’t worry, I’ve changed my username a couple times this year so you probably unfollowed me by accident because of that. I wondered where you’d gone lol but I’m glad your back now

1 note - Posted July 31, 2022

What is wrong with my country

1 note - Posted May 31, 2022

Hey just wanted you to know your posts cheer me up and make me smile thank you for being a part of this hellsite

Omg thank you this is so sweet <3 <3

1 note - Posted January 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Are you a Gold Star lesbian? (Just in case you don't know what it means, a Gold Star lesbian is a lesbian that has never had the sex with a guy and would never have any intentions of ever doing so)

Nah I’m bisexual. Big fan of lesbians tho

1 note - Posted January 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #This is too funny not to post

0 notes

evvlevie · 2 years

Text

I SHIFTED FOR THE FIRST TIME !!!! (as detailed as a shifting blogger can be but scroll down for the juicy part)

Hi, Hello, my beautiful beautiful readers! It's your favorite blogger Evie again and I don't know where to begin 😭 You've read the title so you know damn well what this post is about, and I am freaking over the moon to say it finally happened!

"So how did you shift?" Is most likely your very first question, and I promise I will answer it, but not without giving you full context on what led up to this magical event (or just scroll down in case only the shifting part concerns you)

so as I mentioned in my last post I had been in this state of not putting any effort into my shifting attempts anymore and basically treating shifting like any other of my manifestations: that it will happen on its own, if I simply want to.

⇣the post in question in case you're interested⇣

"Did it work?", you may be wondering. It did not. It might work for other people, because some points I made in that post still apply to me, but the idea of just counting on it to happen on its own didn't really work in my case. This being said, just because it didn't work for me, doesn't mean it can't work for you, and if you are an advanced manifestor who has complete trust in the law, this mindset might even be yours to apply.

Ever since I posted this, some days went by and my typical shifting-cycle repeated. I didn't shift after being so confident I would, and then the realization hit hard and I became severely demotivated. I even told my shifting bestie I was about to give up and lucky for me she motivated me and gave me back my faith. Speaking of faith: I had been noticing that certain angel numbers kept reoccurring in my life. The numbers being 1237 and 119. These numbers seem random, but 12:37 is the time my niece was born and 11th of September is my birthday. (yes I was born on 9/11, no not in the year that it happened, but two years later which is basically irrelevant information but it's a little fun fact about me.) I always thought the universe was showing me my birthday, up until I googled both of these numbers and realized they both mean something among the lines of "keep faith and trust in the universe". And lucky for you I did.

⇣small fangirl and shout-out-moment ⇣

Then on Monday I had a doctors appointment, and being bored in the waiting room I opened Tumblr. My feed was full of law of assumption content and I actually took the time and read through them all, and I reposted the ones I felt like gave me a lot of insight. Now to the freaking craziest part of all of this. (okay not true but it sure meant the world to me). I wake up in Tuesday and see that THE @astra-nomy reposted my post about the newest shifting tip I had found, and not only that, my comfort-shifter @multiversebaddie not only liked one of my posts, BUT FOLLOWED ME BACK. All in the same night and even right after another. CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT THAT DID TO ME????? I was like no, nope you guys, I can't not shift if my favourite shifting and loa bloggers fucking found out I existed. (APHRODITE FOLLOWS ME I CANT COMPREHEND THAT). Plus @lavender--fairy commented on the post mentioned earlier, and her post that I reblogged, was the one who actually gave me the key to shifting. Hell yes. I mean I knew what I needed to know from other bloggers anyway, but her post actually brought me back to the correct mindset.

✧THE ACTUAL SHIFTING EXPERIENCE AKA THE REASON YOU ARE READING THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE✧

so now it is Wednesday. I never really talked about what DR I am shifting to, and I mentioned it somewhere on an old ass post but to put it as briefly as I can: my DR contains a certain group of YouTubers, and I am shifting so I can be friends with them. Now they post videos on Wednesdays and due to the time difference I get to watch them at 11:30 pm, so basically right before going to bed. I went and grabbed a quick shower and then I laid in bed and started doing what I was always doing: affirming. But due to me being me this quickly turned into overthinking and overcomplicating EVERYTHING which is why I stopped, went back on TikTok to clear my thoughts a little and then returned to my attempt.

✨ THE METHOD ✨

☞ I laid in a position most comfortable to me and I started imagining myself in my DR making myself ready for bed. In my head I reminded myself of the thing that I was able to remember due to @lavender--fairy 's post: The 4D is the real reality, and the 3D is only the translation of your inner thoughts. meaning: if I can visualize it, I am already IN it.

☞ Along with me imagining my DR-me doing what I did, I always reminded myself (affirming if you will) that if I can imagine it, I am in it. I purposely chose the Visualization of me doing things I was already doing in my CR day-to-day because you can feel the moment so much better and ground yourself in that reality way easier than imagining me climbing a mountain since I never did that.

☞ I was making myself aware over and over again, that the imagination is the real reality and that if I can imagine it, I am in it. For as long as I was trying to fall asleep. I even moved and rearranged my position constantly, imagining that I was my DR-me doing the same thing. I really just emerged myself in that visualization and started feeling what ever I did, because essentially that's how manifestation works. You don't need to worry about the 3D, and you don't have to feel like you're lacking something. You imagined it in the 4D, so you already did it silly!

☞ In combination to that I never forced myself to stay focused on my DR. Because as mentioned in this post below, you are supposed to let you mind do its own thing in a way, because you can't shift If you are too aware of what you are trying to do.

✨ THE MOMENT ✨

I found myself in this weird state between falling asleep and still being conscious enough to see and understand what you are envisioning. So I was technically awake while it happened. I didn't visualize my DR anymore, instead my mind went into a completely different direction and I saw myself buying milk with Harry Styles. No I did not even script him into my DR, this was just my brain doing brain things. Nonetheless I was still affirming that if I can see it, I am in it, and suddenly I felt myself getting pulled. I heard a little whooshing sound and I literally zoomed out of my body. I was standing in a dark corridor and I could see an open door in the distance with a little something happening in the room it was leading to but I was too far away to see what was happening. Suddenly the corridor started spinning and I felt myself getting pulled into a whole different door. I gained consciousness in this unknown room, but I couldn't tell where I was, or what I was seeing, because it was just dark in there and my eyes had no chance of adjusting quickly enough. I panicked and before I could even comprehend it, I knew I set the intention to shift back to my CR. I got pulled back into this mysterious corridor and shoved into another door by some weird energy and I opened my eyes back in the CR. I know it wasn't a dream because this whole zooming out, the mysterious energy sending me from door to door and the random dark room felt way too physical for it to be a dream. I could literally feel myself in this corridor as only a "being" of some sort, but definitely not as a human with a physical form. From the many success stories I have read regarding shifting realities, I have noticed that many shifters do not reach their desired reality on their first try. Almost every shifter that has talked about shifting mentioned that their first shift was weird and to a strange, undefined reality. (@multiversebaddie shifted to a random ass classroom for example)

✨ ADVICE TO TAKE AWAY FROM THIS EXPERIENCE ✨

I believe I shifted when I did, because my mind was in this gloomy state between conscious and unconscious, which ultimately made me believe myself on the spot when I told myself the affirmations I mentioned earlier. I did not doubt them and that's probably why the void state is such a powerful state to be in, because even if I wasn't, I imagine it to be very similar to this.

Another thing, that won't hurt you is educating yourself on the law of assumption. I know it helped me a lot and I believe that people who struggle with shifting, would benefit if they understood the way manifestation worked because ultimately manifestation and shifting is the same thing.

If you read everything from top to bottom: I love you. If you are doubting shifting, your ability to do it, or wether or not it is real: I can guarantee you as a first-person-witness: not only is it real, it's something every single dingus out there can achieve! And if I can help you in any way, shape, or form: don't be afraid to ask.

I send a lot of love and a lot of positive vibes to everyone reading this! I had been waiting to do this post ever since I created my blog and I still can't believe that I finally got to do it 😭

Yours in every reality

Evie <3

2K notes · View notes

stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland · 4 years

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There is a light at the end of the tunnel

Hello, Stuck. Sorry, I don’t know your real name.

I wrote this long ass post to bring some light into the fandom and between the CSs, and I hope you can post it? I’m new in the Tumblr world, but not in the 5H fandom. I don’t quite know how it works yet and, for the moment, I only know your blog and those of @emisonme, @karlaswine, @sun-to-my-luna, @underthatimpression, and @mentesimploria because, in one way or another, you’re all connected to each other. I just wanted to tell you guys how much I appreciate every single one of you, the passion you have, and the hope you keep alive among those who, like me, love the girls. Also, the patience you guys have, especially against the haters, is admirable. I love the fact that you keep going. Because this is your sacred place, as it should be.

This is the very first time I’ve ever done anything like this. I’m what can be defined as a ‘silent fan’. I never commented on anything in the girls’ posts, not even on the fan accounts I follow. I don’t have Twitter. I have Facebook but it’s like I don’t have it because I don’t use it. I have Wattpad (obviously). I recently registered here on Tumblr, and I have Instagram. That’s what I use. It’s the only app along with YouTube that I use daily to keep up with the rest of the world. Especially the American part of the world. I’m Italian, but I speak American English well, and I apologize in advance if my lazy ass hasn’t noticed possible grammatical errors. I saw that a lot of you are into this stuff, so I thought I’d add it just because. I’m a Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, and Virgo rising.

I’m gonna turn 29 on December 22, and this is a BIG fuck off to all the people who have attacked you lately for your age. This is personal information that I give freely to make ignorant and small-minded people understand that, in this context especially, age is irrelevant. As you, little fucker who hides behind a computer to attack people just to feel stronger, have a life, we have it too. Like you, we have a life, a job, friends, etc. We also have passions. Passions that yes, my dear haters, also include shipping people. I don’t know why in your stupid brain we’re too old to ship people we love and to give opinions about it. I didn’t know it was something reserved only for those who still smell like mommy’s milk. But anyway…

I became aware of 5H existence just before summer 2015 thanks to ‘Worth It’. Being Italian, however, I had no idea who they were, and to be honest, I didn’t go searching for them. Randomly one day then, I ran into Camren on YouTube. I can’t remember which video I was watching, but I know for sure it was about ‘Heya/Brittana’ (Heather Morris and Naya Rivera/Brittany and Santana, my very first hard LGBT ship). And among the suggested videos, there they are. As ridiculous as it sounds, and although I liked them as soon as I saw them, I didn’t go searching for them. I did it when ‘Work from Home’ came out though. From there, I connected that they were the same ‘Worth It’ group and the same two girls I liked from those YouTube videos. I had officially become a fan. I was screwed. Screwed because, I’d officially entered one of the most messed up and yet most beautiful fandoms ever.

As I initially said, this is the very first time I’ve ever done anything like this. But after the recent events, seeing how many people gave up, it made me a little angry and gave me the strength to speak for the first time. I thought the first time would’ve been through the fanfiction I’ve been working on for over two years, but no. Lauren and her beautiful mouth had to terrorize, disappoint, panic, and make angry 80% of CS, thus fueling the hatred of all the other fandom towards us. So I decided to speak now. Maybe, just maybe, this very long ass post of mine is gonna help struggling CS. Maybe, just maybe, it’s gonna make them reason and bring them to their senses.

So. This, as I think you’ve understood, is about Lauren and what she said in the podcast. This is a reminder of the Laucy situation. These are things we already know and that I want to remind you of because apparently, my lovely fellows CS, either you have a short-term memory, or Lauren has the power to create amnesia in people’s minds and I knew nothing about it. Surely this power of hers didn’t work on me and a few others.

Oh and, before starting: 1) You may disagree with me. It’s normal to have different opinions. 2) You can search for information such as dates, easily on the internet. 3) I’m gonna use nicknames on PRs for fun. That doesn’t mean I hate them. I have my reasons for dislike each one of them as people, but I can assure you it has nothing to do with the fact that they were or are the Camren beards. An example to make you understand what I mean is Ty. I’m a huge Ari fan and I’ve been listening to ‘safety net’ non-stop for two days straight. I really dislike Ty as a person, but I separate the art from the artist.

Okay, that said, I can start.

Lauren said: “I knew I was queer because I fell in love with my best friend when I was like 15.” – “Her and I started to have a physical connection when I was 15.”

Lauren and Lucid Vivisectionist met when L moved to Carrollton in 7th grade. Lucille moved back to Puerto Rico in February 2012, returning to visit Miami occasionally (this explains the fetus pictures with Lucy and Camren at L’s house). In February 2012, Lauren was 15, Camila 14, and Lucy 16. And who did Lauren meet when she was 15? Oh yeah, Camila. C and L did the first phase of the audition, the ‘cattle call’, on May 1, 2012 in Greensboro, North Carolina. Audition where Camila took courage to speak at the (“Oh my God that girl is) literally so beautiful” girl from which she felt intimidated by starting that adorable brief conversation “Hi, I like your shirt”, “Thanks. I like your jacket” just before it was her turn to get in for her audition. In May 2012, Lauren and Camila were both 15 years old. Lauren and Camila saw each other again for the first time on July 25th, two months later, in Miami on the first day of boot camp, and it was Lauren herself who went to Camila: “You’re the Cuban girl!”. In July 2012, Lauren was 16 and Camila was 15.

Lauren said: “She came back into my life when I was 18. I was on tour and I was in my room in a hotel somewhere, and she called me.” Let me explain to you why I think this is true.

Lauren and Luxy reconnected with each other after Lucy’s car accident that took place on May 15, 2015. Lauren was really 18 in May 2015, and we can rule out The Reflection Tour dates because it started on February 27, 2015, and ended April 6, 2015. We can also rule out these other show dates that 5H did: April 11 in Jackson Township, New Jersey - April 13 at Live! with Kelly and Michael in New York - April 19 Lauren was at Coachella with Keana, Britt, and other friends - April 22 at the Worldwide Radio Summit in Hollywood - April 25 at Radio Disney Music Awards 2015 in Los Angeles - May 8 at Channel 93.3 Summer Kickoff 2015 in Chula Vista, San Diego - May 9 at Wango Tango 2015 in Carson, Los Angeles (May 9, rumors about Camila and Louis Tomlinson just because paparazzi believed they were together when Louis was actually together with Liam outside the Project Club L.A., and C who was at the club next door) - May 15 at KDWB Radio Show in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

The rest of their program and possible date: May 16 at Kiss Concert 2015 in Mansfield, Massachusetts - May 19 at Dancing with the Stars in Los Angeles - May 30 at G-A-Y in London (rumors about Lauren and Louis Tomlinson this time, born because 5H went to Libertine nightclub with Louis and Niall) - May 31 at Britain’s Got More Talent in London - June 2 at Capital FM in Birmingham, England - June 5 at Good Morning Britain in London - June 6 at Capital FM Summertime Ball 2015 in London - June 12 at Aloha Stadium in Honolulu, Hawaii - June 14 at LA Pride 2015 - June 18 at Jimmy Kimmel Live in Los Angeles - June 20 at B96 Pepsi Summer Bash 2015 in Bridgeview, Illinois - June 23 at San Diego County Fair 2015 - 28 June at Show Of The Summer 2015 in Hershey, Pennsylvania - July 10 at Rockefeller Plaza in New York. July 15, 2015, beginning of Reflection: The Summer Tour.

June 27, 2015 Lauren turned 19, and do you guys remember the events of those days? Because I do.

On June 24, 2015, Lauren celebrated her birthday in advance at the famous sushi restaurant ‘Katsuya’. Among the guests were the girls, her mom Clara, some friends, including Jill (the same Jill/Jillian Gutowitz who worked with Zack Sang and who 5H met on April 22, 2015, at the Worldwide Radio Summit, which lasted for three days but they were present for two: 22 and 23. The same Jill who wrote the article for AfterEllen on January 25, 2016, about her experiences with women who denied their sexuality. Remember the story of Lauren Jordan, right?), and Noah Benardout (may he rest in peace). Still no Lucia, not even on the days when Lauren returned to Miami to celebrate with her family before resuming the program from the 28. As I already said, The Reflection Summer Tour began on July 15, 2015, and Lucy’s first public reappearance took place on one of the tour dates, that is, July 27 at Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

From that moment on, we saw Lucille appear on multiple occasions in hops through time. After the July 27th date, we saw her during the trip to Hawaii with Lauren and Keana in September, followed by the concert that the girls had on October 10 in the Bahamas, where they stayed with their families and friends for a few days. After the Bahamas, the mess happened between 5H because they found out about Camila’s departure from the group which initially should’ve been immediate, but for which they fought and gained another year. That, was also the time when Laucy signed their PR contract. As we know from Lauren herself, that was the worst and darkest time for her. That was the beginning of her numbness.

On October 23, they were on their way to Italy and Lauren wrote on her dark diary, the one shown to us in Episode 8 of her Attunements. On October 24, they arrived in Milan for the MTV Europe Music Awards 2015 occurred on October 25, and on October 28, in Madrid instead, there was the interview with Alyson Eckmann, the journalist Camila flirted with while Lauren was sitting right next to her.

Going forward, in November we have:

- Rumors about Lauren and Julius Dein (his friend who is a YouTube magician).

-The release of IKWYDLS including the rumors about Camila and Shawn and Michael Clifford (who was already in the picture) who were ‘vying for her’.

- Beginning of Lauren’s coming out plan which included: 1) The release of The Vamps’ album on November 23rd, that is, a week after the release of IKWYDLS, and which included the track ‘I Found A Girl’. Joe O'Neill, the manager of The Vamps, liked that famous tweet. Despite the efforts to make us believe that Bleahren (sorry for the Italian pun I made here, but ‘bleah’ in Italian is equivalent to the ‘eww’ to indicate something gross, and therefore Bleah-Ren) Brauren was real and that the girl involved was Lucille and not Camila, they’ve miscalculated since Lauren and Brad ‘dated’ in 2014 when Lucy had not yet returned into Lauren’s life. But since the album and consequently the song came out on November 23, 2015, they tried to manipulate people’s minds as usual. 2) Jill’s article that served to connect and more or less ‘confirm’ the story between this Jordan and her childhood friend, Lauren-Lucy.

- December: completion of the 7/27 album + Dina LaPolt’s entry + renegotiation of the contracts (mostly DNA’s contracts) + FIFTH HARMONY MUSIC, INC. created by LAND on December 21 to prepare for the transfer of the 5H trademark, the FIFTH HARMONY PARTNERSHIP, of which they became owners from April 27, 2016 + change of management from Faculty Management: Jared Paul and Janelle Lopez, to Maverick Management: Larry Rudolph, Dan Dymtrow, and Tara Beikae. [All things that were possible ONLY THANKS to the exit of C from the group]

- January 2016, we have Lauren and Lucrezia who came back from Colombia to then taking a road trip for Lucy’s birthday week.

- Jill’s article came out and coincidentally, by pure chance, exactly two days later, on January 27, 2016, Camila and Dinah were hacked.

- On March 9, 2016, Lauren, Normani, Andrea, Dinah, and Keana went to pierce their ears, or rather, Laurmainah pierced their ears, mama Dre and Keana just accompanied them. During her turn, Lauren asked Keana to take her phone to make a video. In the meantime, Mani was filming Lauren, and again by pure chance, Keana, who was in the heart of the frame, took Lauren’s phone as she’d asked, and both the lock screen and the home screen portrayed a picture of Lucania during a photoshoot. Same picture Lucy herself posted on Instagram on April 10th to leave no doubt.

- April 24, 2016, Coachella together.

- Luciana went with 5H in London, in May, during the promotion of the 7/27 album. (+ Camren video of May 28, 2016)

- She was present during the start of the tour in South America on June 26th (in the evening during the concert, L danced Big Bad Wolf for her, but that’s not the famous video, that was on September 5) and 27th to celebrate L’s birthday together (picture of the 27th of them in Buenos Aires).

- June 27, 2016, on L’s birthday, Jill posted a picture with L from the birthday dinner of the year before, further confirming the story of ‘Jordan’.

- August 1, the national girlfriend day, L posted a picture of her and Lucy.

- From August 12 to 21, Lucy was with them. The night after the concert on the 13th in Rochester Hills, Michigan, videos in which Lucilla appeared during Lauren Fuller’s birthday celebration at the hotel for dinner. On the 14th in Noblesville, Indiana, during Gonna Get Better and Big Bad Wolf Lauren smiled in Lucy’s direction who was in the audience. On the 18th in Virginia Beach, Virginia, a fan met Laucy in a movie theater restroom, taking a selfie with Lauren (C posted a picture of her in the dark with the words of Bad Things “don’t think that I can explain it” the same night).

- On September 4 and 5 Lucippe returned. On the 5th in Houston, Texas, the famous ‘super HD’ video took place in which Lauren danced Big Bad Wolf for Lucy, even pointing to her during her verse. [On September 6, Midland, Texas, during the Q&A, Lauren wore the same dress that Lucy was wearing to the concert the night before, and at the same time, she sat next to C and got jealous when C complimented a fan by sending her flying kisses. Ahh… The irony]

Now. Let’s move on to the part of the podcast where Lauren explains about the kiss with Lucza at her uncle and aunt’s wedding, how her aunt “super innocently” posted the pictures on Facebook that her “unreal invasive fans” found and posted, how Perez Hilton outed her to the world by posting an article with those pictures, how she did nothing for a week, and that after thinking “Ok, it happened. People know. What am I gonna do?”, she wrote that letter against Trump as her own way of coming out.

On November 4, 2016, Lauren and Lucynda did the ‘famous’ photoshoot in New Orleans called ‘Bare With Me’. Lauren flew to NOLA right after Halloween, got back to Miami to vote, then returned to New Orleans on the 10th along with her family for the wedding. Lucianna was also with her on the 10th for the rehearsal/bowling with all of Lauren’s relatives. Meanwhile Orange Trumpeter was elected on the 8th, and many celebrities were preparing to write a letter through Billboard against him and his supporters. Labels and management saw it as a perfect opportunity to get her to come out also considering how much Lauren has always been vocal on the subject, and THEY contacted Billboard to get her to participate in exchange of the exclusive of her coming out. All that was missing was the evidence to make sure that there had been no connection with Camila, and that was the reason for the kiss at the wedding on the 11th.

On November 13, the wedding photographer posted those pictures on his website, including the one of the kiss. And I’m sorry, Lolo, I love you but, really? Who are you kidding? The pictures didn’t start spreading because her ‘unreal invasive fans’ found them on her aunt’s Facebook page where she’d posted them ‘super innocently’. The pictures started spreading after the photographer posted them! And you know what’s even more funny? That to see those pictures on the website, you needed an access password. So what are you saying here, Lo? That your ‘unreal invasive fans’ were so good, to even have hacked their way into the website for pictures they didn’t even know existed? It wasn’t your team, was it? Oh, okay. My bad.

Sarcasm aside. The pictures started to spread, Perez tweeted about it on the 14th, and in the meantime Lauren had time to write the letter that was approved by the labels and sent to Billboard (on the 14th), who approved it a couple of days after it was sent (on the 16th), and which they then published it in the article two days later (on the 18th). In all of this, on November 15, 2016, the girls all went to Epic’s party. Since we know very well that most of the cases of coming out as bisexual in the industry made by a female celebrity occur in succession with the connection with a guy, that night there was the PR proposal between Typo Dolour Signal and Lauren that he obviously accepted, and in fact, he was there that night at that party too (Picture of C with a tear mark on her cheek).

Now, the icing on the cake of the Laucy’s PR: Nicole Cartolano. Nicole is a friend of Lecy’s with whom she had already worked together and who also posted pictures of Lauren on November 17 and 22, 2016, one on December 31, 2016, together with Marian Hill taken backstage after Lauren’s performance with them on the 30th, the night before, for the Snow Globe Festival in South Lake Tahoe, California, and the one of Laucy (with the piñata) on January 10, taken the same night to celebrate Lucilia’s birthday at midnight and that Lauren also used to post it for wish her a happy birthday. That was the last public interaction between the two. *Slow entry of Tympans Dollhouse Signalized in the picture from January 4, 2017, thanks to that tweet*.

On January 21, 2017, Lauren and Lucy were at the same Women’s March, but separately (single), and we haven’t seen them together anymore. LuBYE. On March 22, 2017, both ‘Bare With Me’ and the interview article Nicole did with MTV News (she confirmed that Laucy had been together by having an on-again, off-again for years and also said a lot of other bullshit like the fact that the girls were nervous because they didn’t know how their parents would’ve responded) came out. On August 13, 2018, Nicole officially apologized to Lucy for being angry with her for posting the pictures and therefore for having outed her and for having taken part in the MTV interview without their permission. There was also the screenplay made by Nicole’s mom to make everything even more true.

Bullshit on bullshit on bullshit. Number 1, Lauren herself confirmed in this podcast that her parents knew about her, and said how much she loved Lucre’s ‘I’m out and proud’ part.

Number 2, Nicole posted a preview of the pictures on March 18, 2017, so if she really wanted to stop her before the publication on the 22nd, she would’ve had time to do so.

Number 3, Lucita came out publicly on her own with that Spanish post on Instagram on November 20, 2016, saying in summary that she was anything but straight because she didn’t want to label herself (she did it years later by saying she was a lesbian).

Number 4, as Lusia also confirmed in that post where Nicole’s mom left that comment, Nicole signed a non-disclosure agreement form. If she had actually violated it without having had a release and written consent form, she would’ve been sued.

Number 5, if Luciferase really wanted to have that conversation in private with Nicole’s mom, she might very well have done so. She could’ve contacted her and answered her IN PRIVATE for real, and not via IG where EVERYONE saw and took the side of poor, poor Luckless.

Number 6, the biggest proof that shows the hypocrisy of all this, Lucasta continued to work with Nicole. Their last work dates back to November 25, 2019.

Okaay, sure… sure, because it was normal for her to continue working with the person who outed her, wasn’t it? People’s lies never cease to amaze me. For that matter, Nicole also posted a picture of their ‘adventure’ as they made their way to the photoshoot location on November 1, 2017, and continued to wish them both a happy birthday with posts every year.

And lastly, on June 6, 2020, we have the Lucerne’s video leaked (+ old pictures and videos of 5H) where she burned pictures of Lauren and of the two of them together in 2017, accompanied by the tweets occurred two days later, in which she explained that she was hacked and that she burned the pictures for a closure. Then, exactly 20 days later, that is on June 26, 2020, the PAPER Magazine article of Lauren’s interview came out. What a coincidence! In that article, Lauren explained, along with other things, that she’d been in love with her best friend for 7 years.

Lauren, honey, the maths, the maths… If according to your words you fell in love with her at 15, got together with her at 18, and broken up at 20, how can these be 7 years? It’s 5 years… And as if it wasn’t enough, still according to your words, after 1 year and 8 months (from mid-May 2015 to mid-January 2017), 2 months of which public because of the wedding pictures, of the relationship you wanted at all costs, “all in” and “now we’re gonna be in this relationship”, you broke up with her because she was really toxic, and after less than a month, you started dating an even more toxic person without the proper time to heal?? How do you expect me to believe you? And I’m putting aside the fact that I know they’re both PR relationships. I’m speaking out of logic. How? How can I believe you? How does this make any sense?

Personally, yes, I believe Lauren and Lucy have a past. Lauren’s first kiss was when she was 13 (8th grade) with her boyfriend at the time, Dominic, but I think Lucy was her first kiss with a girl. And I think it happened when she was 15, but in 2011, so long before Lucy left. Lauren dated Paul Martinez from June 4, 2011, to the end of July (around 23/24). From after Paul, until her very first PR at X-Factor, Keaton Stromberg, she was single. I truly believe that before she met Camila, Lauren and Lucy did everything Lauren said. I really believe Lauren experimented with her in secret, but I don’t believe in anything else she said at all.

This is my opinion. And in my opinion, Lauren always knew she was queer, and Lucy was the first with whom she could experience the attraction and the feelings towards girls she had always felt and concealed deep inside herself. But they were friends. Just friends. Friends who messed around and experimented together in secret given the environment that surrounded them. Lucy then returned to live in Puerto Rico and they simply drifted apart because of the distance and Lauren’s busy schedule with 5H. When she came back into Lauren’s life, they rekindled their friendship. Just that. Also because, Camila, hello? Camila entered Lauren’s heart the same year Lucy left and never get out of it. Not to mention that Lucy had a girlfriend, Sarah Scott Narcise, before getting together with Nicole Marie Rendón in March 2017. I honestly think that Lucy was also giving advice to Lauren about her relationship with Camila, and I also think that now they really aren’t friends anymore for something we don’t know about, even though I have my theories… But anyway. Lauren needed a beard to be able to come out, Lucy needed visibility for her modeling career and, at the time, also for her music which, however, never saw the light of day. The labels approved because they would’ve done anything to keep their chosen one out of the gay light. Camila also approved. Boom, PR.

I don’t believe all the other bullshit she said during the podcast. Because if they’d been true, they would’ve made logical sense. A sense they’ve been trying, and failing, to give for years. If Lauren really didn’t want to come out, she wouldn’t have done a photoshoot with Lucy a week before the wedding with the intention of using that same photoshoot to come out. She would not have kissed Lucy in a public place during the wedding pictures in front of a professional photographer hired for the event, knowing full well that those pictures would eventually have been published by the bride and groom, her aunt and uncle, and the photographer himself. If she wanted so badly a picture of her kissing her girlfriend, drunk or not, she would’ve taken her fucking phone and take selfies. It wasn’t the fans’ or Perez’s fault. It was the management that was following the plan.

And I’m supposed to, what exactly? Forget all these things, things that have been proofed multiple times in the past, because Lauren, or Camila, or management, or labels, or their contracts, must continue with their stupid narrative? Because Camila must continue to look straight and continue to look in love with Shalt Menstruated because the señorito is about to release his documentary and his album? Because Camila’s movie is about to come out? Because Lauren’s own album is about to be released and because the subject matter of her female-pronounced songs must only and exclusively be related to Lucy? (Although I think her album will be out next year. I think a song with female pronunciation is coming out soon. And no, I’m sorry, I don’t think it’s Burning)

Guys, come on…

Think about it. She used Lucy as a shield to tell part of her story with Camila that happened in 2014. It all fits. Even the story told through songs from Camila’s cocky POV, including ‘Like Friends Do’, ‘Eyes on You’, ‘Cleopatra’, ‘Leave for Good’, and a couple from her last album like ‘Should’ve Said It’ and ‘Feel It Twice’.

I understand why many of you have been hurt by this podcast and by Lauren herself. I understand why a lot of you are angry about the things she said. I see you, I understand, I really do. And everyone is free to feel whatever they want, I’m not saying otherwise. But I really don’t understand why you’re hiding or why you’re abandoning the ship. Authors who don’t wanna write anymore. Accounts closed. Names changed. Hope lost. This, all this, makes me angry and hurt. Because you fell for it. And you know why you fell for it? Because Lauren changed her approach. Leaving aside the part just before when she said: “Even when I talk about it, and I don’t talk about it because I’ve learned to just ignore it because-” and there, I swear I had to pause because I burst out laughing, and I was like: “Bitch, you’re the one who pulled this out of your ass out of nowhere right this second, what are you saying?”. She went on by saying, and she knows us so well because of this: “I just chose to ignore it at a certain point because getting angry to them would it mean that it was real and validate it more for them”.

And it’s true. This non-angry approach of hers, worked like a charm. Lauren’s older, she’s more mature than before. Although she was very nervous, she managed to explain everything calmly. The fact that she was emotional and almost cried in many parts, it really gave an extra boost to what she tried to sell. And I’m not saying she faked almost crying. Hell, no. That was super true and hard for her. I’m saying though, that it’s really easy to manipulate people’s minds, and Lauren used her real pain, the real suffering she has gone through over the years to tell this charade. That’s why it seemed so real. And I’m supposed to fall for that shit just because that’s what they’ve wanted for years, right? Convenient much?

Guys, please. You’re smarter than that, use those beautiful brains. For example, the fact that Lauren said: “I was queer, but she was not”, wrong as you want it to be, and “Camila and I were just really good friends at that time”, yeah, sure, Jan. Doesn’t the very fact that she used the past tense make you realize that it was done to completely detach herself from her IN THE PRESENT? Everything she said was for something. Everything had a purpose. And the goal is always the same. Make us stop shipping ‘em. Putting a label on C only served the Shoestoremila purpose, nothing else. And those were words that came out of the mouth of the one who says she doesn’t like labeling people. The same one who was pissed that someone had outed her before she wanted to. Do you really think she’s that hypocritical?

The fact that she put all the CS in the same box, especially when she talked about the Daddy situation, WAS DONE ON PURPOSE. She couldn’t fail to generalize because their purpose is, and will be for a long time to come, to kill Camren. That means the whole fandom. Not just invasive elements. But really all the CS. The purpose was to make us feel guilty. The purpose is to make us accept that it was never real, and since we care about them, to make us continue to support them individually and not as a couple, even though she knows that the real CS do it regardless. This, is called manipulation, guys.

Think about everything else too. The inconsistency. The holes in her story. The lack of explanations. And the fact that during the story of how it all happened, she jumped from one theme to another and therefore managed to deflect and not completely finish one before moving on to the other, doesn’t it make you understand that she didn’t want to give too many details? And when does that usually happen? She knew we’d analyze her. She knew she couldn’t say too much. When she talked about Lucy, she knew that WE know she was talking about Camila, and with too many details, it would also have been obvious to the others because WE would’ve pointed it out to everyone. I mean, it’s obvious enough in itself, imagine if she’d fed us more information that we would’ve compared in the timeline.

Please, guys. I know that it feels like something’s changed, but it’s not. It’s really not. I’m appealing to all of you. Open your eyes. Reason. I know many of you still have conflicting emotions and feelings, and that’s okay. If you’re still upset, if you still wanna cry, then cry. Do whatever helps you feel better because, especially after the haters have come to bite your asses, you’re entitled to feel the way you do. But please, please, don’t give up. If you give up, you just play their game. You just do them a favor. You guys had invested so much of your time, so much of your passion, so much of yourselves to just, give up. Think of all we’ve been through, especially those who’ve been in the fandom for years. Think about how happy Camren makes you. They were there for you when you needed them. When you were going through hard times. I know they’ve helped a lotta people.

And think about this too. Lauren herself said at the beginning of the podcast: “The news and the media are constantly spinning narratives for your clicks so they can make money”. And what do you think this podcast was for? It’s always the same shit. Have you not noticed how the very same news and media have ALL talked about them? Didn’t you notice how My Oh My magically returned into the charts? How 50ft surpassed the 9 million streams on Spotify? And you still have doubts?

This is instead for the CS who get often angry about their actions. I personally think it’s pointless to blame Lauren and Camila for every single thing they do that has been PLANNED for them. Especially Camila as far as Shonas is concerned. There’s a pattern here too. Lauren had her light PR with Lucia. Lauren then had her heavy PR with Typic Dole Sight while Camila had a light one with Eatchu. And now Camila’s having a heavy one. C’s one is heavier simply because they’re much more famous than PRen (Tyren) were. So, guys, be patient. There’s really no point in getting angry and blaming them. It’s a waste of energy. It’s useless to blame them if they’re gonna continue to do so over the years to come. They’re just still trying to get past their original contracts and survive in the industry at the same time. Sooner or later, I HOPE, they will be free to tell the truth or the truth will come out on its own.

Well, I’m done. Jeez, that was long, wasn’t it? But I hope it was worth it. I hope I’ve cleared your heads a little bit and instilled some hope again. I also hope I made you smile with all those nicknames and my sarcasm. I especially hope that wherever you are, you’re having a good day, and if not, then I hope it has improved at least a little bit with this post. And thank you so much, Stuck. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to use my voice for the first time publicly/virtually. You, above all, keep on being one of the lights and NEVER let them turn you off. I love you guys. Stay safe. Stay strong. Stay patient. With love, F.

I leave you with these two pearls:

Number 1. Lauren said something else too. She said: “Don’t trust me. Go research. Go look this shit up yourself”. I know she said it for a completely different context, but I found it really funny given the situation.

Number 2. This is a small scene that automatically created itself in my head as soon as I finished listening to Wonder. I titled it: The sad and short story of the making of ‘Wonder’.

Enjoy:

*on the phone*

Shawl Mendicant: “Hey, buddy. I know you were a huge Fifth Harmony fan and I know you love my fake girlfriend, so I was thinking… could you help me? You know, I need her to stay relevant, but to do that, I also need to release music and completely take all the credit from other people because, you know, the most I do is change a sentence or two in my style to make people think that I wrote all my songs.”

Sam Smith: “………okay?”

Shawnita Menorrhagia: “So, I was wondering, can I copy your homework? You can totally refuse if you want to, but I’m hoping to appeal to the love you have for 5H and Camila, and maybe help a friend out?”

Sam Smith: “Yeah, sure, you can copy my homework. Anything for my girls. Just, change it up a bit so it doesn’t sound too obvious you just copied it.”

Shonas Mended: “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. Thanks, man.” - *ends the call*

Sam Smith looking at the phone with an incredulous expression and one hand over his heart: “I came out as a non-binary, you insensitive asshole!”

Shoes Mentionable from the other room: “Cameeela! He said yes!” *reaching then Camila and Lauren in the living room where Lauren is lying with her head resting on Camila’s legs who’s running her fingers through her hair with one hand and holding the book that she’s reading with the other one* “You were right, all I had to do was mention you girls.”

Lauren chuckling and continuing to pet Cleo who’s lying at the foot of the couch with one hand: “Told you”, to then adding: “And please, I know you’re excited because of the news but keep your voice down”, continuing to caress Sofi’s head who’s sleeping on top of her with the other one.

Shapeless Mentality: “Oh, sorry.”

Camila without looking away from her book: “Sam’s really nice. I’m sure they would’ve said yes even without the need of mentioning us.”

Lauren: “Hmm, I’m not so sure about that, babe. Yes, they’re very nice, but we’re powerful in their minds, so it was an added incentive for them to say yes.”

Shaved Mentholated: “Who are they? Weren’t we talking about Sam?”

Camila who was giggling at her girlfriend’s words:

Lauren:

Sinu from the kitchen:

Cleo who was nibbling her toy:

Even Thunder, Leo, and Eugene from outside into the yard:

*the end*

Chon Mendable: ‘Wonder’ - Sam Smith: ‘One Last Song’

____

OMG I am speechless. I’m really still digesting this whole story because it’s amazing but I wanted to start by saying hello to you and telling you my name, my name is Marite. It is a pleasure to meet you dear friend. I don’t want to write too much because your words are much more important than mine but I wanted to thank you for trusting me and my blog to tell me your story. That side of the story that, being new and not having been a harmonizer from the beginning, I never learned. I intended to ask for more information about Laucy’s Timeline but what you have told is a gem. A gem that shows that the bastards of the industry cannot fool the fans because we pay attention to everything and it is not easy for us to fall for their shit. I think the power we fans have is so great that if we all came together, we could bring down this whole fucking fake empire that they have created. That said, Laucy’s story is surprising. As planned and how each person involved had to do their part on the chessboard. Incredible. Now that you tell me that story, I think it fits the one I wrote in my once upon a time post. Sure, yours is true and has everything that mine doesn’t. I have tried to keep this blog open for all who wish to come and air their ideas, their thoughts, their tea. And you dear friend, you have been one of the best so far. You’ve given us that support that the fandom so badly needed and I really appreciate it. I also appreciate your humor, the nicknames have been so hilarious and I’m still laughing. Thank you for daring to tell this part of the story and reopen the can of worms of a PR that right now resurfaces with that Lauren interview. With a purpose, it’s true. And something tells me that we will see much more very soon. Thank you for your support, my friend. And you know, you have my blog at your disposal for whatever you need. And if you need to talk or anything else. I greatly appreciate that we can continue to keep this ship afloat among ourselves. Among a group of intelligent people who have been hurt by someone we have always loved very much even though we know the reason for all that. We can’t give up now because if we do it like you say they will win and I personally don’t plan to indulge them in that. Thank you very much for all dear friend and I hope you have a nice day. I send you a hug and I hope you stay safe.

#submission #laucy timeline #amazing #thanks you buddy #camren #f anon

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asdfghjklwhaaat · 3 years

Text

I posted 682 times in 2021

56 posts created (8%)

626 posts reblogged (92%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 11.2 posts.

I added 15 tags in 2021

#charmie fic - 3 posts

#hbd armie 😚 - 2 posts

#the french dispatch - 2 posts

#armie hammer ure so fine - 2 posts

#i love to take my poems literally - 1 posts

#mirroring - 1 posts

#but ur sister is fine fine - 1 posts

#timmy ilysm - 1 posts

#pauline— the superior chalamet - 1 posts

#saoirse ronan - 1 posts

Longest Tag: 33 characters

#i love to take my poems literally

My Top Posts in 2021

we're all so proud and happy of all your successes and achievements, tim. we celebrate you, now and for years to come. but we also value and appreciate you more and more each day because you support our gentle giant, in ways you know is right at the current time. go shine ✨

60 notes • Posted 2021-10-11 15:12:46 GMT

hair goals tbh

92 notes • Posted 2021-08-27 09:40:59 GMT

Timmy: What do you want for your birthday?

Armie: We've talked about this, I'd rather you spend your hard-earned money on yourself babe.

Timmy: Armie.

Armie: Fine. Just lick me out for dinner.

Timmy: Uh? Okay, I guess? If that's what you want.

Armie: *TAKE! Take me out for dinner.

Armie: I hate this phone

Timmy: I can do both. Lick and take you out for dinner. It's your birthday so your wish is my command :)

Armie: You're not letting this die soon, 'no?

Timmy: Nope. Gonna lick you good for your bday baby.

94 notes • Posted 2021-08-29 09:47:47 GMT

heart eyes, motherfucker

109 notes • Posted 2021-08-30 16:01:25 GMT

hi friends and moots,

Maybe 5 people tops will see this post so I'll brave things out and post it. I never got a lot of interaction anyways hehez. So anyways...

I know most of the ppl in the fandom doesn't know my existence but I've been here since the latter part of 2017. You might see my Tumblr handle from time to time on the timeline because of reblogs (I post funny stuff sometimes!) but that ends there.

I am a silent viewer of everything that has happened and is happening in the fandom. I celebrated during good times, I cried over the worst times. I felt like quitting before but my trust towards Armie and Timmy, as partners and as individuals, is bigger than the battle/s they're fighting. Also, who am I to lose hope when they aren't? I am supposed to hold on when it's tough, not let go.

I'm just posting this to tell you all charmies that I love you guys so much. I never talked personally with all of you but you have been a family to me already thru all the posts we shared over the years about the boys. I appreciate every one of you who never fails to trust the process even how hard it is.

What Armie is facing right now is fucking painful and scary. If I could only offer a hug or anything, I totally would. Not to brag or anything but I'm a good judge of character that's why when this shitshow started early last January, I never once doubted him in my life. I may not know him personally, not interacted with him personally, but over the years, I get to learn how his heart works. And that man owns a heart of gold.

We lose a lot of good people in the fandom too. When someone leaves, there's a part of me that's hurting because there is no guarantee if we are gonna be able to celebrate with them once everything is alright. The group number is getting slimmer but the trust and hope never does and at the end of the day, that is what matters.

My line of thought is messed up so bear with this trashy post, I just hope that everyone who reads this up to this point is having a wonderful and safe day. We got this. The boys got this. I hope I can talk and be close friends with all of you but I don't know how to hold a conversation so I'm just here looking :( anyway, Dance party with you all soon xx

272 notes • Posted 2021-02-15 14:19:15 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Text

Taking a Break.

(Aug 24 to Sept 14/20)

So.

You may have guessed this was coming with my hinted responses to recent posts. I talked with a few Lovelies behind the scenes to help ease my fears about this decision. I’ve done a lot of reflective thinking for the past few weeks, and I’ve decided that when I have a three week break from work, I am also going to take advantage of that and take a three week break from here as well.

This is not something any of y’all did. Please do not think this. This is a “Steph hasn’t had time for herself since last summer” thing, a “Steph puts too much on her own shoulders because she doesn’t feel she deserves her own time” thing, a “Steph just needs a break” thing. And it’s been made even worse with C-19 because I’m NEVER off of the same computer nor couch. Before, I’d go to and from work, and blogging in the evenings was fun, because I didn’t do it during the day. Then on weekends, I’d answer asks and leave for the gym, spend a bit of my day running around, and come home, play again on Tumblr, and repeat.

Now, on work days, I literally wake up, spend 16 hours on my laptop, and then go to bed. Weekends, I FEEL obligated to be on Tumblr to help curate the community I love treasure so dearly, so ANOTHER day or so of my weekend is dedicated to making sure I have content for the following week to come, because HEY I can’t leave home anyway, MAY AS WELL.

My blog is nearly a full time job, one I volunteer my free time for (I have a Ko.fi, shameless segue). I spend about 30 hours a week answering asks, filing my posts, searching for stuff for people, collecting reblog threads and chains, and generally trying to keep a positive attitude because I know so many of y’all come here for safety, love, happiness, and escapism. And I do it ALL because I LOVE doing it. I love being a curator of fandom. I love having a blog that people know they can come and generally have a good time. I love all of my friends and lurkers and the people who help me make this blog an interactive one.

The problem is that with never leaving home, I am becoming emotionally drained, very depressed, and am slowly not enjoying doing this anymore. I DON’T WANT THAT TO HAPPEN. So after a lot of discussions with a few people and self reflection, I’ve decided I need Steph-Time™, and I need to FEEL like I’m not obligated to be here all the time, just like I needed time away from work. As I explained to my boss, I just need that time to not feel obligated to answer calls and Slack messages without feeling guilty about it. It’s different when I have a Work Computer and a Home Computer. My home computer is supposed to be Fun Stuff. Now it’s not, because work bothers me on my fun computer. He agreed, as did the Lovelies who I talked to behind the scenes.

I love you guys SO MUCH, and I love receiving the asks I get, but some days, a dozen asks daily becomes overwhelming and new fic lists and song recs become intimidating. I need a break. It’s taken me a lot to say that, because I am crying writing this because I feel so many people need me, and I genuinely don’t feel like I deserve a break ever, because there are people who come to me for comfort and need it more than I need a break.

But the ironic thing is that I can’t help anyone if I’m not taking care of myself. How fitting that my own advice to others comes back to slap me in the face, eh?

So, here’s what’s happening then, because I KNOW I can’t 100% stay away from here...

I am taking 3 weeks off from work starting August 24 until September 14. My “obligation break” from Tumblr will be during that time as well. I say “obligation” because Tumblr feels like I HAVE to do it. I don’t want that. I want to see what it’s like being you guys again, just taking in content, and coming on occasionally, post up shit photos of myself, LOL.

During said break, ALL ASKS AND SUBMISSIONS WILL BE TURNED OFF. I want to, IF I FEEL LIKE IT, take the time to answer some old asks. Essentially, I just want to do my blog because I feel like it, not because I NEED NEW CONTENT. Yeah, I think that’s what stresses me out, is because I’m TERRIFIED that y’all will leave me if I don’t keep producing new stuff, so I just.... never stop, and it’s draining me.

As an exception to the off-inbox rule, ASKS WILL BE TURNED ON ON AUGUST 27 ONLY. That is my birthday, and I know some people will want to send me well wishes. If you send me an un-related ask on that day, I probably won’t answer it unless it’s one of those ones I can answer quickly. But yeah, my birthday is on the 27, if anyone is interested in that sort of thing.

WEDNESDAY FIC LISTS WILL NOT BE PUBLISHED DURING THESE THREE WEEKS. Namely because I have exactly 4 lists ready to go, and I plan on using them for the this and the three subsequent Sundays.

Five Fics Friday is still on, as is Fic Rec Sunday. 5FF will probably be fave fics instead of new MFLs, so I’m sorry about that. The Sunday lists are already done and therefore not going to stress me out.

I’m not leaving completely. I’m still here, I just, like I said, need that obligation element removed from my brain. You guys have NO CLUE how guilty I feel every day when I have to choose one or another ask because of the quickness of one ask over another, or the fact that This Day was a Bad Day™ and I can’t answer advice asks in a bad headspace. I need that element removed to just the asks I’ve already got, and let myself answer them on my own time. Draft a slew of them to post when I return (I mean, y’all have been waiting months/years on some of my asks, what’s another three weeks, LOL), and head back with a clear head to better help you guys.

So LITERALLY, the only difference you guys will notice is the lack of NEW posts. My queue is full for the next MONTH, so literally you would not even know I was gone unless you tried to send me an ask or a DM.

Let’s be real here, guys, I’m not going to completely disconnect for 3 weeks. Y’all will be yelling at me to get off and go outside, LOL.

So what am I doing with my 3 weeks then? Updating my resumé, learn some new art skills, go for my Big Walks™ I haven’t been doing, play some video games, get my hair cut, maybe get my cat. Do and post up some of my art I’ve been meaning to finish. You know, stuff that not-losers do, LOL.

Anyway, unlike Mofftiss, please don’t give up on me after three (weeks) :D I just need a mental health check, is really all this is. I’m having a hard time disconnecting work from leisure and I need to do that again. <3

I will be back, I promise!! And hopefully better. <3

This is a very difficult decision for me, because I’ve been running this blog at full steam for about FIVE YEARS NON-STOP. All because I’m scared of hurting people. I hope you all understand.

I love you guys so much. <3

~Steph

#my blog #about me #steph takes a vacay #i'm just really drained you guys #i hope you understand #steph says 'obligated' a lot #long post

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artemiseamoon · 4 years

Text

Sin

Narcos Mx AU | Miguel x Female reader | Female reader x Pacho *

Chapter 1 of 5 | revised 10/24/22 | words: 3,667

Summary: You were Miguel's ex-mistress, he insists you come to his birthday party and the night takes an interesting turn.

All chapters / fic index | read on A03

NSFW Adult 18 + only | gifs credit to owners

Warnings: Sex, cursing, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll and be safe), multiple partners, neck grabbing, ass slapping

* Pacho is bi in this AU.

Read as an OC if you prefer, Fox is one of her nicknames

Author note: Just a dirty ass one shot because my depression is sneaking back and this makes me feel better. I don’t know how my week of fluff turned into this. (Love how this went from oneshot to fic 😂)

PLUS: as always i do not condone the actions of the real life persons. This is just fanfics based off the show and the handsome actors.

Updates go to A03 after chapter 3, previews post on tumblr

Don’t like this? Don’t read it. I don’t need anyone’s complains or whining.

Tonight, represents more than Miguels 40th birthday party. It represents his status at the top, his success; the physical manifestation of every move he's ever made until now. Good or bad, out of need, desire, or spite. It all got him here.

Tonight, also marks two months since you fell out with Miguel, and the end of your affair. You hadn’t seen him since, but you knew he was keeping tabs on you. Miguel is a possessive ex. He didn't let things go.

Miguel never begged for anything, never had to, never would. But he had his little ways of convincing people to say yes, and though you knew better, and you knew all his little tricks, he still got you to say yes. In the back of your mind, you figured if you declined, he'd send someone to come get you anyway, it's just the way Miguel is.

The last time you saw Miguel, he had Azul escort you to his office. It went as expected, you yelled and screamed at each other followed by Miguel fucking you against his desk. Once you came you slapped him, got dressed, then left. To be fair, you did desire him, it just didn't take away the anger and rage you felt for the man. That was two months ago.

Now, here you are at his over-the-top birthday party. It started 30 minutes ago; everyone's having a good time. The guest of honor is a no show. You imagined him in your mind, the lonely King, deep within the walls of his castle smoking in the shadows and contemplating his next moves. All the while his guest ask about him and seek him out, for a multitude of reasons; personal, political, business.

But not you. You haven't asked about him at all and don't plan to. You busied yourself with your date. He wasn't anyone important, just some hot guy you hooked up with a few times. Miguel isn't the only one who's spiteful, you know the moment he sees your date, and your dress, he's going to freak.

The anticipation of pissing him off, of seeing the look on his face, is almost too much for your body to contain. You can't stay still for too long and hit the dance floor to work off some of your energy.

When the birthday boy finally appears, it takes him no time to notice you and your date. The way he looked at you from across the room, his young new wife at his side, was enough to stab daggers into your soul. Your date may or may not end up dead by the end of the night; this is Miguel after all. Still, you danced up on him. Kissing on him. Absolutely making Miguel crazy.

It works.

Miguel makes a line for you. He hooks his arm around your waist, “Come with me.”

He doesn't even look at your date or acknowledge him. But your dates not stupid, he knows who this is, and even thought his ego is wounded, and he would likely never call you again, he lets Miguel take you with him.

Miguel was tense and quiet as he leads you into the house, the whole time keeping his hands on you, like if he lets you go for one second, you'll slip away. He only stopped when you reached a long dark hallway. He pushed the door open and led the way inside. You barely had time to make out what the room was before he pressed into you, backing you into a wall, his eyes dark with jealousy.

“You think you're clever?”

“You're drunk Miguel,” you dismiss him, knowing it will upset him more. You pushed against his chest, but he holds you in place, “what?!”

“Who is that?”

“Why do you care? I’m sure this party is full of your conquests.”

Miguel just stared at you, his eyes darkening even more. You see his jaw clench, then he dropped his head slightly, his eyes moving over your bare shoulders. He grabbed the strap of your dress and snapped it back in place.

“Does he know I bought this dress with all the money I made us?”

“Correction,” you tilt your head to meet his line of sight, "I purchased this dress! Get over it.”

You pushed him off of you with force, then started to walk away. Miguel grabbed your forearm, whipping you back into place against the wall. This time, he crowds you even more, using his own body as a block.

Miguels eyes clouded with lust as he takes you in. He grips your neck with his right hand and holds your hip with his left. Your eyes fell to his lips as they parted slightly, you have him right where you want him. Using only his eyes, Miguel devours you like a man in need of a meal.

“When I’m finished with you, you’ll forget all about your date.” He growled.

You challenge him. "Yeah, doubt it."

Miguel wastes no time hiking your dress up over your hips. He uses his knee to part your thighs and kisses you with so much passion, so much desire you nearly lose your balance. There's no time to think, to stop yourself. Everything happens in a fevered pace and Miguel fucks you hard and fast against the wall. When that position became too trying, you moved over to the couch.

Miguel was rough, possessive, ravenous. Something about fucking him this time feels more dangerous than the other times. Like he's a demon trying to fuck your soul away, to sign you over to him forever. In the back of your mind, you wondered, no matter how fucking good this feels, if Miguel's possessive behavior will be much worst.

While he fucked you, even used his belt to tie your wrist together. You knew, if he could, he'd have you all night long, but he made the best with the time he had and took you in every way he could.

When you were close to coming, he pulled out, teasing you, waiting for you to beg for more until he gave it to you. In the aftermath of your lust, you laid there, catching your breath, seeing stars, unable to move. It was only when a knock came at the door did you both rise, it was Azul.

Miguel covered your naked body with a blanket and went to the door, only opening it slightly. You overheard what was said, the infamous Pacho Herrera was on his way.

Taking some time to clean yourself up, you make it back to the party. From a distance you see a girl flirting with your date, and if anything, you feel happy for him. You are more than aware you have a big 'do not touch' sign on you now, and honestly, you kind of like it. You also revel in Miguels boldness, to sweep you away like that, at this party full of people and watchful eyes, with his wife right outside. Bold.

You get another drink at the bar then head over to some associates. As all of you chat, your mind focuses on one thing: Pacho. You'd be lying if you said you weren't excited to see the legend up close, in the flesh, for a second time.

The first time you saw Pacho was at a meeting, Miguel took you with him, at the suggestion of someone else. They said you'd be a pleasant sight for the Cali Cartel, and it wouldn't hurt having you there. Miguel took the advice, and that was the first time you saw Pacho in person.

The whole meeting you couldn't think straight. Pacho was sexy as hell and every time his eyes landed on yours you nearly came right here. The man has serious vibes and if you had the chance to sleep with him, you would. Even if it only ever happened once, that's good enough for you.

You left that meeting thinking you'd never see Pacho again. Now, knowing you will, fills with a great sense of excitement.

When Pacho arrived, near the end of the band singing happy birthday to Miguel, it took your breath away. Your eyes were locked on him, and you were far from the only one watching him. He took his time, walked at a slow yet purpose filled pace. Once he and Miguel walked off together, you devised a plan.

You know this property like the back of your hand, Miguels had you over enough times you could draw a map. Using your knowledge, you make your way to the small church, unseen, hiding in the shadows. You carry your heels in your hand, careful to be as quiet as possible. When you reached the church, you tried to eavesdrop but were quickly intercepted by Azul.

"Just going for a walk, too many people at the party." You flash a big smile at him and act drunk.

Azul lets it go, and nods.

You walk in the other direction and head back to the water fountain. On the walk, you think of another way to cross paths with Pacho. You cannot waste this opportunity, even with the risks involved.

Years ago, you gained the nickname Fox, and it wasn't without reason. You would find a way to catch Pacho's' eye. You heard Pacho is bisexual and knowing that put all kinds of ideas in your head, knowing you had a chance changed everything. It also changed your perspective on the day you met. Part of you was convinced he was looking at you with desire in his eyes. Part of you thought you were making it up, so you just chalked it up to wishful thinking.

You didn't know much about the man, even with a reputation, there was still so much about him that was a mystery. Still, he seems like the type to know all about everyone else. Part of you wondered, if he knew about you. Was he ever curious about you?

As your mind continues to wander, you make your way back to the church, this time out of Azul's line of sight. You think about how fucking Pacho could be the biggest fuck-you to Miguel. You weren't a bad person, and normally not so vengeful, but Miguel is a damn vampire and he hurt you many times over.

He's able to pull out the villain in you, in a way no one else could. Anything you give him, he has coming. Even with all the tenderness of your past together, but that died out a long time ago. You try to not think about that part too much.

The doors of the church finally opened, then closed. Pacho exits first, cocky and sexy as all hell. Miguel is still inside. You can tell whatever happened in the church went in Pacho's favor.

You take a moment to scope the landscape, then make a b line for Pacho's car. You noticed it was parked away from all the other guests, and it would make it easier for you to act on your plan. When you got there, you encountered the strange yet curious Navegante.

At the sight of you, he stopped leaning on the car and walked over to you. He stepped into your personal space with a weird little smile on his face. You wait for him to speak, he doesn't, not right away.

“Did you see the tiger? I touched it.”

You don't know whether you want to laugh, or back away. And he sure looks proud of this little fact.

You start to respond, “I -”

Before you could get the rest of your words out, Pacho appears.

Though you've seen him before, this feels like the first time all over again. You feel your heartbeat faster and your pulse quicken the moment his eyes fall on you. And when he speaks your name, you hold your breath. You've heard your name all your life, but from his lips, from his lips it feels like the most seductive thing you've ever heard.

You smile, "you remembered." Your eyes lock on his.

He motions to the car with a small hand gesture, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You can see in his face; he sees through your innocent act. Of course he does.

“I wanted to see you up-close, too many people back there. Last time, we were in a room full of people too.” You replied confidently.

He smirks, looks at Navegante then back at you. “You’re a sneaky little thing.”

“You have no idea.”

Something flashes in his brown eyes you can't name or describe. Whatever it is, it takes your breath away. You unconsciously raise your hand to your chest and fiddle with your necklace.

Pacho slides his hands in his pockets and looks your over. Then signals to Navegante who gets in the driver's seat. You hold your breath and watch as Pacho walks over to the passenger side. Just as he's about to get in, he says, "get in."

Your heart is pounding even faster now. Would you really fuck Miguel and Pacho in the same night? Could you be that much of a sinner? Was that even possible?

You open the back door and hop in fast before anyone sees. The car speeds off into the night.

The hotel is nice. His room is a deluxe suit with two floors, large enough for a group. You haven't seen the upstairs yet.

The car ride over was quiet, strange, a thick electricity in the air. Back at the hotel, you sit in the living room area, a drink in your hand, trying to anticipate what's going to happen next. Your nervousness building by the second.

Pacho still doesn't say much, he watches you, like an animal stalking its prey. He's cool, calm, in control. He doesn't do anything in a rushed way, not even when he made your drink. He took his time and observing him was - exciting. This man exudes controlled, confident dominance in every single thing he does.

Oddly enough, in this period of waiting, you had more conversation with Navegante. Unsurprisingly, he was talking about weird shit, random stuff, but you actually found it amusing. At one point, Pacho left you with Navegante, as he went upstairs to the upper level. You were starting to wonder if this was a bad idea, then, he called for you.

You're hyper aware of every step you take, as you reach the second-floor landing and step into the room. There's a lounge area with a long couch, then a small hallway you assume leads to the second bathroom and the bedroom. There's a second bar up here, a smaller one. Pacho is making daiquiris in a white robe. His beautiful dark hair was wet.

“Sit.”

He motions to the couch, you do.

He brings the drink over and sits beside you. Same as the first drink, he watched you quietly as you tasted it. Once he's pleased with your reaction, he stands again.

“What was your goal, seeking me out?”

You bite your lip, feeling nervous as hell. Now that you're completely alone with him, your courage was starting to fade.

“I traveled a long way, don’t act shy now."

You place the drink down on the side table and sit up straighter. “I thought about you for months, since the first time I saw you. Is it a sin to be - curious?”

Pacho does that little thing with his nose, the thing you saw back at the meeting months ago and thought it was cute as hell. As the seconds pass without his response, you start to wonder what he’s thinking.

You didn't have to wait too long. Pacho sits beside you, his body feeling warm and setting all your sense on fire. He leans in, eyes locked on yours, “Stand-up” he points to the space before him.

You do as he commands.

Pacho reclined back, sipping his drink as he takes you in. “Strip. Slowly.”

Your heart skips a beat.

You do as he commands.

Taking your time, you strip off the tight black dress that Miguel’s money did indeed pay for. You could have used your own, but you were saving your money and mostly splurged with his. Something about that thought alone was adding to your arousal. Stripping in front of Pacho's' penetrative gaze in a dress bought for you with Miguel money? It's scandalous.

Standing naked before him, you feel the most vulnerable you've ever felt, the most - seen. Something about the way Pacho looks at you is unmatched. Your desire for him burns red and hot, your body craving his touch, his lips, more of his commands.

Pacho, maintaining his relaxed position, draws you closer to him with a single finger.

With a few steps, you close the distance between your bodies. Without breaking eye contact, Pacho unties his robe.

Dropping to your knees like some common whore you wait eagerly to take him in, to welcome him with your mouth and indulge in one part of your numerous Pacho fantasies.

Your wish is soon met. He fills your mouth; you take him in with pleasure. When you deep throat him the sound he makes nearly sends you to heaven. Fuck, you just made Pacho make that sound. You pull out all the stops, casting your spell on the man you couldn't stop thinking about for months. Finally, when Pacho can’t take it anymore he pulls you away by your hair and guides you to the bed toward the back of the massive suite

“On your back, knees up.”

Eager, you do so quickly, getting in place on the bed and gazing at him with flirty eyes. He takes his time walking over to you. Once he climbs on the bed, his body hovers over your own, you can feel his arousal pressing into you.

The bastard teases you.

Ghosting his lips over your, but not kissing you. Pulling your head back when you try to kiss him. Using his lips and tongues to leave a trail of kisses down your body and in-between your legs. He continues to explore your body, in any way he sees fit, his mouth, tongue and fingers all working masterfully, driving you over the edge.

Each time you get too close to coming, he stops, making you wait, enjoying the way you whine for him. You quickly learn your lesson and behave; you stop trying to kiss him and try to control your body.

Once Pacho deems you obedient and patient, he finally slides his cock inside of you. With all the teasing, he's worked you up nicely, you take all of him with ease, he stretches you more than anyone else has, filling you deliciously. His strong-arm wraps around your body to hold you in place as he bottoms out in you.

You nearly come then and there, and when he finally kisses you; any sense of time or space disappears. Pacho fucks you hard, so deep, leaving you dazed and breathless as he continues his lust filled stokes, the whole time he holds you in a vice like grip. Kissing you so deeply, so passionately, you forget anyone who's ever kissed you before.

He maintains control the entire time, the intensity never letting up, even when you change positions. At certain points, you're sure you've broken skin, digging your nails deep into his back, his arms, his thighs - you've become utterly intoxicated by Pacho.

Finally, when you can't take anymore, dancing on the edge of release, Pacho pulls out completely. He makes you lay flat on your stomach. You know better than to beg for him.

Pacho sits back, strocking himself and catching his breath. You can feel his eyes burning into you. Just as silence falls in the room, his hand come down hard to slap your ass, leaving a burning sensation, he slaps the other cheek. You grab the pillows beneath your head.

“Should I let you come?”

“Yes, please.”

“I don't know if you deserve it,” he slaps your ass again.

“Please.” You begged.

His big strong hands come to your hips, fingers digging into you as he pulls your ass up in the air. He frees one hand, placing it flat on your back, keeping you in position.

He adjusts behind you, getting comfortable and lining himself up with your entrance. Without warning, he slams into you, knocking you off balance. He holds you in place and finds his rhythm again. You didn't even recognize the sounds leaving your lips as he fucks you, sounds you never made before.

Then sweet release comes.

The room spins and you're not sure if you're actually going to pass out or not. Your vision fades as pleasure explodes in your body. Pacho comes, your name soft on his lips as he does.

Once he pulls out, Pacho rolls onto his back, closing his eyes to catch his breath. You look at him, still on your stomach, his hair in his face, lips parted. This man is fucking beautiful.

When his dark eyes find yours, he shifts ever so slightly and cups your face, pulling you close to him. His lips, his beautiful lips you've started at more than once, now roll over yours. Moving his hand to the back of your head, Pacho grips tight, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before claiming your lips again.

Kissing him is dizzying. You kiss until your lips are swollen and slick. He draws back, keeping eye contact with you as he caresses the length of your neck.

A smile draws on his lips as he lays on his back,

“What's that look?” You asked.

“You look tired, don’t fall asleep on me now. I have plans for you -” when his eyes meet yours again a sense of excitement and slight worry overcomes you. Whatever else Pacho had in mind, you were definitely not getting any sleep tonight.

“Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6

#narcos mexico #pacho herrera #miguel angel felix gallardo #not the real guys #just the show and actor #narcos Mexico oneshot #pacho narcos #Miguel narcos #pacho oneshot #miguel x female reader #pacho herrera x female reader #By artemiseamoon #please read warning at top #fic: sin #read warnings

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theroguequeenaniki · 3 years

Text

Questions 2009 -> 2021

This is from my Facebook. It popped up on my memories page thing. I originally answered this in 2009 when I was 15, it’s now 2021 & and I am 27, so I’m gonna do it again. Leaving the original answers. Original answers will be italicized. Commentary on the original answers in parentheses & crossed out? Lol. (I’m not gonna tag anyone, but, like, I guess if you want to answer these random questions from Facebook 12 years ago, go ahead lol)

Questions

Can you fill this out without lying? You've been tagged, so now you need to answer all the questions HONESTLY. At the end, choose people to tag. Don't forget to tag me so I can see your answers! To do this, copy this entire message, then go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, delete my answers, and type yours. Easy! Next, tag people that you think may enjoy this (in the right hand corner of the app). Click publish (at the bottom). Have fun! :) 1.What was the last thing you put in your mouth? My cup with my Big Red in it The straw to my Kate Spade tumbler to drink my HEB Cola Lol.

2.Where was your profile picture taken? I got it off the internet. it's a random anime girl. My bedroom. 3.Can you play Guitar Hero? Never played it. Probably wouldn't be good at it. Not to good at video games. But I am good at Mario Cart, both 64 and the Wii. plus I'm good at some Sonic games. Still never played it. Idk if I’m any good at Mario Cart or the Sonic games anymore, I haven’t played either in years lol

4.Name someone who made you laugh today? Doctor Who TikTok. My cats.

5.How late did you stay up last night and why? Umm, probably about 10:00 cause it took me forevor to get into bed. Uh..Past 4am. Lol. B/c my sleep schedule is fucked. I was in bed by 3am though, but I was playing games & watching TikToks on my phone. Lol.

6.If you could move somewhere else, would you? Yes. I'd move to either New York or Sweden. I don’t know. Part of me says yes. But part of me says no..b/c even though Texas has it’s faults (a LOT of them), I cannot imagine living anywhere else long-term..

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks? HAHA. Yeah right. I've never even been kissed! Still nope. I have been kissed though. He just didn’t kiss me under the fireworks the one NYE we spent together...

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you? Um, I think R, but D might also. D is accross Stasney from me and R is a couple blocks down (I don’t talk to these people much anymore & I’m not going to share their names on Tumblr) Uh. I think Maybe Raven? B/c they’re the only one who lives in the same city still. But, Sarah might technically be closer distance wise? Hold on. Ok, yeah, Sarah’s closer, even though she doesn’t live in this city anymore.

9. Do you believe exes can be friends? It all depends on the situation.(I totally stold M's answer but it's true) (I don’t talk to this person anymore & I’m not gonna share their name on Tumblr) I mean, yeah. Two of my best friends are each others exes and they’re still friends. I haven’t stayed friend with my ex, but, uh, he ghosted me so? Lol.

10. How do you feel about Dr. Pepper? I love it. I still love it. Lol.

11. When was the last time you cried really hard? I can't remember. I don't think it was that long ago, I had a light cry on Saturday, but I don't remember the last time I cried really hard. When we got back from our trip in July. Had a full on breakdown that night. Overheated all weekend. Overwhelmed. Anxiety. It was not a very good vacation..I cry a lot though.

12. Who took your profile picture? I got it off of google. I did.

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of? Umm, either myself, or one of my family members. Aside from myself. I think my dad, on his phone, b/c there was a cicada on his shoulder and he wanted to ask the family group chat if he could keep it. Lol. I take a LOT of pictures of cats though. Lol.

14. Was yesterday better than today? Hail yes! To much drama today! And I couldn't avoid it cause I was in the middle of it! (Oof, what drama was 15 yo Linda dealing with that she couldn’t avoid? Lol. I mean, I guess, Sophomore year was a bit full of drama lol) Anyway, I mean, they were pretty much the same. One wasn’t better than the other. One wasn’t worse than the other.

15. Can you live a day without TV? yeah. Now Music there is something I can't live without! Yep, Do it almost everyday. Sentiments about music remain the same. Lol.

16. Are you upset about anything? Yes. I'm annoyed about something and it's making me upset. (I assume this has something to do with the the drama mentioned earlier lol) Always. Anxiety & depression are a bitch. My rooms a mess & I can’t get myself to clean it. My shelves are still a mess.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it? yeah. though i havent really had one yet. I mean, yeah. Even though I haven’t had one last, aside from friendships, but they’re worth it.

18. Are you a bad influence? I hope not. If so, let me know.(again I took M's answer but it's true) Probably. Idk. Lol.

19. Night out or night in? Depends on what's going on and how I feel about it. Night in usually. I do like going out sometimes, but, like, to dinner. Maybe a movie or a show. But, you know, we’ve been in a panini press, the only thing I’ve been comfortable doing is going to dinner (fully vaxxed & masked). But I also prefer staying home anyway. (Like I usually just go to dinner with my family lol)

20. What items could you not go without during the day? my computer. my book. my journal and a pen. My phone. My journal (b/c I write in it every night, as a diary, 14yo Linda wrote stories). Uh. I didn’t take food or drinks into account in the og, so I won’t in those. But, yeah. My phone & journal. I can go a day without my laptop if I need to. (Went the whole trip in July without pulling it out, though maybe that’s not a good example since my anxiety on that trip was so high..) I want to say a book, but I’ve been in a massive reading slump so...I wish I read as much as 15yo Linda did..

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? I don't remember. I think it was myself.(if you want to know, ask me in person) I honestly don’t know. I don’t remember the last time I was in a hospital.

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say? "Mrbobbybones: wish ted would finally meet their mother already. geez. get to it. However, I see myself in that character more and more each episode." yeah. That's what it says. It's from Twitter. (Huh? and I can’t even go check b/c my inbox doesn’t go back to 2009 on Twitter?? (I haven’t had my account that long) Wait wait wait just remembered I used to get tweets to my phone as text messages lol)

Facebook messenger: “ Cool” From our group chat. Lol.

From actual text messages on my phone: “ heeey! Just put up the Tuesday PDS just for you it’s a big one.” From Phillip Defranco’s text line Lol.

23. How do you feel about your life right now? I'm loving and hating it. but hey nobody gets out alive right? Uh..I mean. I’m alive. I have WiFi. Food. Family. I haven’t seen my friends in 2 years. (Minus Alex, b/c they were here in July to cat/house sit, but I saw them for like, one night..) There’s a lot that could be better. A lot that could be worse.

24. Do you hate anyone? yes!!! Oof. I mean, kinda.

25. If we were to look in your Facebook Inbox, what would we find? some random conversations. most of my convos on her though have been in chat or through comments. Facebook Inbox is now Facebook Messenger. So you’ll find all my Facebook Messenger convos. Mostly our group chat. And side group chats for secret planning (birthdays & stuff). Plus other chats? Lol.

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass? I better! (excuse me miss 15yo Linda you absolutely could have passed a drug test you ALSO didn’t drink or smoke or take any drugs lol) Yeah. Absolutely. I don’t drink or smoke or take any drugs so, yeah? Lol.

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?

Yes. But I can't remember when... Yeah. Pretty sure.

28. What song is stuck in your head? Gee by SNSD(Girls Generation) They're Korean. A few My Chemical Romance songs

29. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m., who do you want it to be? EDWARD CULLEN! Joke! lol. No I don't know. If it was Edward, I'd call the cops. whoever it is though better have an explaination or they are gonna get hit in the head with my Book of Shadows. (Maybe I wouldn’t mind Edward at my window though? Lol.) Uh. My friends? Lol. Idk if I want anyone knocking on my window at 2am.

30.Wanna have grandkids before you’re 50? I don't know....... Uh. No? Idk. Most likely not gonna happen.

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow? I can't think of anything right now... Eat. Should probably clean my room.

32. Do you think too much or too little? Way to much! lol. Way way way too much

33. Do you smile a lot? i try to. I think I do. I get told that alot in Theater...

I think so

#questions #throwback #is this a get to know me #idk

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juniorgman187 · 4 years

Text

Luck of the Universe (Spencer Reid Screenplay)

Season 9 Reid deserves more recognition. Definitely one of my fav looks/seasons. So I wrote about it :)

Summary: Years after Spencer saves Maggie’s life, they reunite unexpectedly. Maggie thinks it’s fate; Spencer does not. She challenges him and says they’ll meet again, even without intending to. They do meet again, but not under favorable circumstances. Maggie’s life is in danger and Spencer must save her . . . again.

Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst, Fluff, Screenplay Content Warning: Profanity, pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, violence, death Word Count: 10.5k

DISCLAIMER: This was originally a screenplay but was adapted to have a more cohesive appearance on Tumblr.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Spencer Reid sits outside a cafe to enjoy his beachside view from a coffee shop. Foreign to California’s sun, Spencer has aloe and sunscreen packed with him. He even wears sunglasses wherever he goes. While he patiently waits for the arrival of his coffee, he reads The Narrative of John Smith. The exact copy that Maeve gave him over a year ago.

Serving his coffee is Maggie. This event will single handedly change both of their lives forever.

MAGGIE: Let me know if I can get you anything else.

As she sets down the cup, Reid thanks her, and out of politeness, he tilts his head forward ever so slightly so that his glasses will shift to the bridge of his nose. This way she can see his eyes. And when she does see his eyes, they are so familiar to her, but she can’t place where she remembers them from. Spencer notices her looking at him.

MAGGIE: Oh sorry, you just looked really familiar.

SPENCER: Actually we have met before. I’m the agent that, um, saved you.

Maggie stands there for a moment in complete disbelief.

MAGGIE: Oh my God, yes! No, I totally remember you now. Wow. Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner I’m -

SPENCER: Maggie.

Maggie peers down at her name tag and gives him a funny look.

SPENCER: No, I genuinely do remember you, and I didn’t just read your name tag. Um I have what’s called an eidetic memory. I’m able to recall things with high precision, even if it was a brief period of time on one occasion.

MAGGIE: Really? That’s incredible. I wish I could say the same. All I could remember after being resuscitated was your eyes. I meant to thank you, by the way, for saving me, but at the time I was too in shock. I went to the police department the next day trying to find you, but you weren’t there. And as it turns out, it’s not so easy searching for a pair of hazel eyes.

Spencer smiles.

SPENCER: I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I’m a Supervisory Special Agent with the Behavior Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia.

Hearing his name completely changes her. She says it to herself in disbelief. For years she’s wondered who he was, and now she knows.

MAGGIE: So what brings you back to California?

SPENCER: We finished a case here earlier. I’m just killing time until I go back by reading.

MAGGIE: May I?

Maggie extends her hand to ask for the book politely. Spencer hands it to Maggie. She recognizes it almost immediately.

MAGGIE: Oh, I love Arthur Conan Doyle. This is just one of those novels I wish I could read again for the first time.

Spencer doesn’t respond, he’s just so enamored by the way she thinks and speaks. She misinterprets his silence as a sign that he’d rather not keep talking.

MAGGIE: I should probably let you get back to reading. I wouldn’t want to keep you from the opinionated Everyman John Smith. I hope you have a safe travel home.

Maggie begins to get up from her chair.

SPENCER: Wait um, I don’t normally ask this, but I still have a few hours until my flight and I’d really love to keep talking with you so do you think maybe we could go somewhere or -

MAGGIE: I would love to, but I’m working until the closing shift tonight.

SPENCER: Oh okay.

Maggie is conflicted. Against her better judgement, she agrees.

MAGGIE: You know what? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.

Excitement rises in Spencer. When Maggie goes into the coffee shop, he tries to contain himself. He fixes his hair and straightens out his cardigan and tie. Maggie comes back out.

MAGGIE: Ever been to the pier?

. . .

Maggie and Spencer are looking out onto the ocean from the pier. It’s one of the rare times that they aren’t being swallowed by a huge crowd. It’s just them, a few other people, and the sunset. An ocean breeze blows through, making Maggie shiver and bump into Spencer.

MAGGIE: My bad. Sorry.

SPENCER: Do you want my -

MAGGIE: No, no I’m fine.

Spencer ignores her statement and drapes his cardigan around her. Though she would never admit it, it sort of smells like him - and it’s the most comforting smell in the world.

MAGGIE: It’s beautiful isn’t it?

Maggie says while looking out to the sunset.

SPENCER: Yeah, it is.

He says while looking at her.

After a couple seconds, she notices him staring, looks at him, smiles, and nudges him.

MAGGIE: It’s getting late. We should head back.

Spencer follows close behind as Maggie leads the way.

MAGGIE: I wish we could’ve hung out longer, but I don’t want to leave Tony running the shop alone for too long and I wouldn’t want you to miss your flight.

SPENCER: For what it’s worth, I enjoyed the little time we did spend together.

MAGGIE: I did, too.

SPENCER: So maybe, when I’m back here, we could make plans.

MAGGIE: I’ll look forward to your return then.

Maggie and Spencer walk a little longer in a comfortable silence, until finally they’re back at the coffee shop.

MAGGIE: Do you have a pen?

Spencer hesitates for a moment, but ultimately, has to place his hand on Maggie’s hip to retrieve the pen inside the pocket. This gesture startles her and causes her to remember that she was wearing his cardigan.

MAGGIE: Oh sorry, I forgot that I was wearing this.

SPENCER: No keep it. It looks better on you anyway. Consider it an early birthday gift. September 8 right?

MAGGIE: How did you- Oh right. Eidetic memory.

Spencer hands her the pen and Maggie reaches for a napkin from the table and writes her number on it.

MAGGIE: So if you’re ever insanely bored at 3 a.m. or you’re not busy saving someone’s life, call me.

Spencer takes the napkin.

SPENCER: Will do.

He tries to mask how excited he really is.

Maggie heads back inside, but stops herself at the door. She turns back to Spencer.

MAGGIE: (genuinely asking) Do you know how often people reconnect without intending to after years of not seeing each other?

SPENCER: Not very often I suppose.

MAGGIE: This could very well just be a huge coincidence, but it really feels like some luck of the universe that I’m talking to you right now. And I think we’ll be seeing each other soon again.

Spencer’s intrigued. As a doctor, he’s pragmatic. Romantic notions such as destiny and luck - he wasn’t a believer of. Even God, he was skeptical of. But he wanted to see Maggie again, even if that meant he had to agree that it was fate after all.

SPENCER: And if we don’t?

Maggie pauses to answer his question.

MAGGIE: Then we will eventually.

Before Maggie opens the door, she notices Spencer pulling money out of his pocket to pay for his coffee. She stops him.

MAGGIE: It’s on the house.

She says with a small smile that’s returned with a grin that creeps upon Spencer’s face. When she fully enters the cafe, Spencer is left alone with his thoughts.

. . .

It’s the next day. The BAU is seated at the round table. Penelope is presenting the case. Reid’s momentarily distracted. He plays with the napkin in his book. It’s the napkin with Maggie’s number on it. His fixation lasts for so long that he misses the presentation entirely. It’s only when JJ asks him a question directly does he tune in and snap out of his trance.

REID: What was the question?

Reid shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to hide his confusion by opening up the case file.

ROSSI: You’ve been awfully quiet this morning. A little too quiet. Care to share?

REID: Nothing. Just thinking.

He’s lying and they all know it. The team exchanges suspicious glances.

REID: Sorry, Garcia, could you repeat it one more time?

GARCIA: Why of course! Anything for you, Boy Wonder. A week ago, Brynn Dryer disappeared from her home late at night. 48 hours after she was reported missing, a couple jogging past a lake found her body. In the M.E’s report, there was a terrifyingly large amount of evidence that she was brutally beaten and clubbed. The official C.O.D was blunt force trauma to the head and the lake was nothing more than a disposal site. Less than a day later, Eliza O’ Hara went missing after someone invaded her home. Yesterday local P.D found her in the middle of a field by the highway. Same M.O. The police department is anticipating that when you land, another girl will go missing.

Spencer notices something.

REID: Wait, can you put their pictures side by side?

Garcia does so. Spencer makes a connection.

JJ: What is it, Spence?

REID: The similarities between the two victims are uncanny. Notice the eye color, skin tone, hair style, even down to the freckles they have.

BLAKE: Alright so he’s got an aggression toward brown eyed, tan brunettes with bangs and freckles.

ROSSI: And I have an aggression toward telemarketers but you don’t see me clubbing them to death.

HOTCH: The cooling off period between kills is getting shorter. He’s escalating and we’re going to put a stop to this before he hits his stride. Garcia, you’re coming with us. Wheels up in 30.

The team is leaving the round table.

. . .

The team is on the flight.

HOTCH: JJ, as soon as we land, I need you setting up a press conference to let the women in the area know to be vigilant. After that, we’ll interview the family’s of Eliza and Brynn. I need Blake and Reid working on the geographical profile. Dave, you and Morgan will take a closer look at the bodies and see if you can’t gather more information. And Garcia,

GARCIA: Yes, sir?

HOTCH: Find as many more connections between these women as you can, and contact any other women who fit the victimology.

GARCIA: Yes, sir.

ROSSI: Apparently, it'll be 101 degrees when we land. Remind me again why people live in California?

Reid perks up. He didn’t even know he was going back to California. But now that he does, he’s even more on edge.

. . .

Reid works on the geographical profile, while Blake assists from her chair. There’s something off about Reid, and she’s about to find out what.

BLAKE: Hey, you alright, Reid? You seem like you’re a million miles away.

Reid stops working on the map. He turns around to face Blake.

REID: I met this girl yesterday. She was actually a former victim I resuscitated. And before I left, she said she had a feeling we would see each other again soon.

Spencer pauses and purses his lips.

SPENCER: She looks just like the other victims.

BLAKE: So you’re worried that when you see her again, it’ll be because of this case.

REID: Do . . . do you think I could call her? To let her know.

BLAKE: I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to break the rules if I were you, but I can’t, in good conscience, advise you to let her know what’s happening. By doing so, you’re giving her an advantage other people don’t have. If she tunes into JJ’s press conference, I’m sure she’ll be safe.

REID: I thought Maeve was gonna be safe too. Look how that turned out.

Blake is at a loss for words. Here she is, the linguist, and yet she can’t find the right words to tell Reid to comfort him.

. . .

JJ sits beside Garcia as Garcia sets up her system.

JJ: Spence has been acting really weird today.

GARCIA: So it’s not just me! I knew something must’ve been wrong because earlier on the flight, I asked if he wanted to play online chess with me and he said no. Can you believe that? I know he’s all anti-tech and everything, but he’s never passed up a game of chess. So that’s why I’ve already done some digging.

JJ gives Garcia the face of “You shouldn’t have done that.”

GARCIA: Okay, but before you say I shouldn’t have, you should see this.

Garcia pulls up a small window on her computer to show to JJ. JJ is shocked.

JJ: A three hour call with his mom last night? Could’ve just been his regular check in.

GARCIA: See that’s what I thought, too, but look.

Garcia scrolls further up the call list.

JJ: He hasn’t called his mom in months.

GARCIA: We all know Reid tells everything to his mom. Something must’ve happened yesterday.

Unbeknownst to Garcia and JJ, Reid walks in.

REID: Hey, guys - what’re you looking at?

It’s too late now. Reid’s already seen it.

REID: You’re keeping tabs on me now? How long have you been monitoring me? Huh?

Anger possesses Reid.

GARCIA: Just since this morning. I only looked at your call history briefly.

REID: Unbelievable.

JJ: We were just worried about you. We all are. There’s obviously something going on.

REID: So then ask me about it. Ever thought of that?

JJ: We’re sorry.

REID: Yeah no, I’m fine, thanks for asking.

Reid storms off from JJ and Garcia.

. . .

Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan all meet Garcia, JJ, and Blake before delivering the profile. Spencer’s missing.

MORGAN: Where’s Pretty boy?

BLAKE: I thought he was going to talk to Jennifer and Garcia.

GARCIA: He did, but something happened . . . he was upset and left. I thought maybe he went back to working on the geo-profile.

HOTCH: Garcia, when did you last speak to him?

GARCIA: Oh, I don’t know, sir, um, maybe fifteen minutes ago?

HOTCH: Morgan, go find Reid. We’ll deliver the profile.

MORGAN: Where should I be looking?

BLAKE: He went to a coffee shop yesterday. I’m not sure which one, but it’s a start.

. . .

Reid is frantically entering the coffee shop. He scans the room for Maggie but doesn’t see her.

TONY: Hey, what can I get for you?

SPENCER: Is Maggie here?

TONY: Who’s asking?

SPENCER: (flashing his badge) I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI. Let me ask you again, where’s Maggie?

TONY: Didn’t show up today.

SPENCER: Did she call in sick?

TONY: Nope.

SPENCER: When was the last time you saw her?

TONY: Last night when we were working the closing shift.

SPENCER: Do you know how she got home?

TONY: She walked. I tried to offer her a ride, but she said she likes to walk. Something about clearing the mind.

SPENCER: Did she walk alone?

TONY: Mhm.

Spencer’s mind swirls. He is living his worst nightmare all over again. When he turns around and sees Derek pulling up. Reid rushes out of the coffee shop and hops into the passenger seat immediately. Derek doesn’t even question it.

REID: Drive. I need Garcia on the phone.

Derek dials her.

GARCIA: Did you find Rei-

REID: (cutting her off) Garcia, I need you to look up Magnolia Tate. Get me her address.

MORGAN: What is it, Reid?

REID: She didn’t show up to work today. Her coworker said the last time he saw her was when she was walking home. She fits the victimology. Garcia, the address?

GARCIA: 178 Citrus Boulevard. Be safe.

REID: Thank you, Garcia.

GARCIA: Of course. And, Reid?

REID: Yeah?

GARCIA: I’m really super-duper sorry about earlier.

REID: It’s fine. I know you guys were just looking out for me.

Reid can sense Garcia smiling through the phone so he promptly hangs up knowing their business is resolved.

MORGAN: Reid, there is a good chance this could just be a coincidence.

REID: I’m telling you - nothing with this girl is just a coincidence.

MORGAN: Well, have you called her yet?

REID: No.

MORGAN: Then call her now, Reid.

REID: I can’t.

MORGAN: Yes, you can.

REID: I can’t.

MORGAN: Why not?

REID: I’m scared that if I call her, I won’t be able to stop, and I’ll want to keep talking to her, but I can’t do that. Not when I know what it’s like loving something death can touch.

MORGAN: Is this about Maeve?

REID: It’s always about Maeve! Morgan, I watched her die in front of me. And just knowing that right now I could be in the same position -

MORGAN: Listen, I know how guilty you feel about Maeve. Man, I feel guilty about her, too, but you gotta understand that if this is connected to our case, you’re gonna save her. Trust me on this.

REID: Yeah, okay.

MORGAN: So how do you two know each other?

REID: She was actually a previous victim of ours. Nearly a decade ago, I performed CPR after her ex-boyfriend pushed her off the boat, bound and gagged. They were out on the lake watching the Fourth of July firework show, but a witness recognized her from the news, which ultimately saved her life. Prior to that, he killed practically all of her next of kin because he believed they were responsible for the restraining order she filed against him.

MORGAN: Why’d he risk taking her out in public?

REID: He was recreating their first date. How do you not remember this?

MORGAN: Actually, now that you mention it, I do remember the case. Cause you made that stupid joke that he was trying to reignite a spark.

Reid makes an offended/sad face. Morgan smiles.

REID: You know, taking into consideration how much emotional trauma we’ve been through combined, there is a very real possibility that our relationship would be, for lack of a better word, doomed. She has no parents, my mom has schizophrenia. We’ve both been held hostage. I’ve been hospitalized, and she’s potentially been abducted for a second time.

MORGAN: Seems like the perfect fit to me.

REID: I’m being serious.

MORGAN: I am, too.

REID: Statistically, 40% of all long distance relationships end up failing in some way, including relationships where the partners are married. And of that 40%, 70% of these failures occur because of unplanned circumstances that happen to one of the participants in a relationship. Unplanned circumstances are practically a part of our line of work. Not to mention, most long distance relationships survive on two in-person visits per month. But relying on getting two cases in California per month is completely unrealistic.

MORGAN: Kid, you can give me all the statistics and numbers to convince me why you shouldn’t be together, but the one thing you haven’t said is that you don’t like her.

REID: Fine, I don’t like her.

MORGAN: Then why am I driving to her house?

Reid pauses, not ready to admit he’s wrong.

REID: Because this could be a lead on the case.

MORGAN: Whatever you say, Pretty Boy.

After a long period of time, Reid finally speaks.

REID: At first, I only noticed her because she looked like Maeve. Even when we were talking, it felt like I was talking to Maeve again. But then, she surprised me. She said that seeing me again felt like a “luck of the universe.” That’s when I realized, she’s not a girl who reminds me of Maeve. She’s her own person. She’s Maggie.

MORGAN: See that wasn’t so hard now was it?

REID: I will crush you.

. . .

Morgan and Reid are walking up the flight of stairs to get to Maggie’s apartment.

MORGAN: Remind me again of the plan. Because realistically, she could just be playing hooky or be out somewhere else.

REID: Once we get to her apartment, if she’s not there, I’ll call.

MORGAN: Have we thought about what we’re gonna say if she is there? Oh sorry ma’am, we thought you were kidnapped.

REID: I’ll figure it out.

Reid and Morgan are in her hallway. Morgan knocks on her door, but the door moves when he knocks on it. It’s open. Morgan and Reid exchange glances. Morgan reaches for his gun as he cautiously opens the door wider to enter. When they do, there’s no one inside. But there was an obvious sign of a struggle. A glass vase has been smashed.

REID: Call Hotch. I’ll call her.

Morgan goes to the side to let Hotch know.

REID: (to himself) Please pick up. Please pick up.

MAGGIE: (her voicemail) Hey, it’s Mags. Sorry I couldn’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message I’ll call you back when I can.

Hearing Maggie’s voice almost makes him want to break down in tears, but he composes himself.

MORGAN: Reid, we gotta go. Garcia found something.

. . .

Hotch, JJ, Blake, Rossi, and Garcia are all together in the conference room while on the phone with Reid and Morgan.

MORGAN: What’d you find, Baby Girl?

GARCIA: Well after doing some digging, I unearthed Marcus Linden and Toby Forthword. Who are they you may ask? Good question. They are Eliza O’Hara and Brynn Dryer’s sons. And you’re probably thinking, they have children? Yes indeedio they do. The reason I didn’t find this earlier was because when Brynn and Eliza were teen moms, they set up closed adoptions for their sons before they were born. I’ve been trying to find any contact they might’ve made with the agency or their kids since the adoptions, but I haven’t been able to. I thought that was weird, but I started searching for other women that fit the criteria, and would you believe - there was one.

The pause Garcia takes before saying it, tells Reid it’s Maggie.

GARCIA: Magnolia Tate.

Reid is at a loss for words. His mind is trying to wrap about what he’s hearing, but it’s all so much.

HOTCH: Could you find any more connections?

GARCIA: A week before the abductions, all three of them went to a clinic for women who were pregnant or planning to be.

Reid bites his lips as he tries to grasp it all.

REID: Is she pregnant?

All of them know who he’s referring to.

JJ: Spence . . . they all were.

If Reid’s jaw could be on the floor, it would. Even Morgan winced as JJ revealed the news. A moment of silence falls over the group as they all feel for Spencer. Hotch is the first to speak after nearly a minute of not.

HOTCH: Apply those precedents to teen mothers in the early 2000s and cross it with women that gave birth to sons who ended up in the system instead of being adopted.

MORGAN: Baby girl, look at kids that are around 18-20 now. He would’ve been recently freed from the system. He’ll most likely have a history of anger management issues or disciplinary issues.

ROSSI: The mother might also be recently deceased.

JJ: There’s your stressor.

BLAKE: With the death of his biological mother, he wouldn’t get the answers he wanted. He’d look for them from the women that his mother is similar to. Brynn, Eliza, and Magnolia all serve as surrogates. Garcia, he’d be aiming to work in the system. Not only would he want to prevent other kids from going through what he did, but it would also explain how he found them.

JJ: You know the fact that all three women were pregnant could account for his anger. To him, that’s the ultimate form of betrayal. Giving their son up, only to have another child in the future to keep.

GARCIA: Got it.

Spencer is still trying to process. He stays quiet as he fiddles with the napkin. It almost appears as though he might tear it.

. . .

Maggie’s balled up in a corner, hugging her knees. She’s badly beaten. She’s bleeding, her eyes are swollen from crying and she’s looking down at her stomach. The unsub is standing, watching this.

UNSUB: Don’t cry, Magnolia. I wouldn’t have done that if you just answered me.

MAGGIE: You killed my baby!

UNSUB: And I’ll do more if you don’t answer me!

MAGGIE: Please . . . I can’t give you the answers you want. I’m not your mother.

UNSUB: If you don’t answer me, I’ll hurt your little boy. I’ve been watching him very closely. His name is Elijah Martin, cute kid by the way. Quite the over-achieving 12 year old. He’s in soccer and track and field. Wanna see his school picture?

Maggie closes her eyes and turns her head so she doesn’t have to see.

UNSUB: See, Magnolia, what you’re going through right now, is only a fraction of what I had to go through in my foster homes. I was tortured, bullied, abused. All because that old hag didn’t want to make the sacrifice to be a mother. So answer me this, how could you give him up?

MAGGIE: I may not have made the sacrifice to be a mother, but I did make a sacrifice the day I chose not to be his. I wanted to keep him. I cried when I watched him leave with that other family. But I couldn’t be the mother he needed.

UNSUB: Why haven’t you called him? Or tried to get him back?

MAGGIE: Reaching out would’ve done more harm than good. Not knowing who I am, or who his father was, meant that we could never stand in the way of his future. He can reach his fullest potential - free of mine or Charlie’s hindrance.

The unsub understands Maggie. She’s gotten through to him. But he still carries anger. He groans in frustration and grabs Maggie by the collar of her shirt.

UNSUB: We’re gonna take a little trip.

. . .

The BAU is at the local Police Department. Garcia is reading to them what she’s found.

GARCIA: I know a textbook serial killer when I see one. His name is Ray Lewis-Fernandez. Throughout his time in foster care, he was a troublemaker. He never stayed for more than a month in a group home. Quite a Dennis the Menace, according to his foster families. It also says here that he got caught on multiple occasions trying to get his file so he could find his mother. Her name was Shawna Heights, and I say “was” because she passed away exactly two weeks before he was emancipated.

MORGAN: So this guy is finally able to find his mother on his own, only to realize he missed her by two weeks.

GARCIA: Talk about bad luck. But that isn’t even the worst of it. If Ray did do some digging after his emancipation, he would’ve discovered that Shawna had two sons and a daughter only a few years after he was born.

JJ: Did he try to contact them?

GARCIA: No, but that’s the surprising part. I profiled him wanting to reach out and be one big ol’ happy family, but then I remembered I’m not a profiler.

REID: Wait, that might actually be it.

Everyone is shocked to hear Spencer speak up.

GARCIA: Wait, I’m right?

REID: Foster families mentioned he’d been trying to find his mother but at the core of its meaning - he’s trying to find family. If his mission is to find family, he wouldn’t stay away unless he had to. Garcia, check if there’s a restraining order on Ray.

GARCIA: Bingo, Boy Wonder! Malcolm, Shawna’s husband, filed it against him just days after Shawna’s funeral.

REID: The restraining order means he can’t come within a certain distance of the kids, right? So he wouldn’t risk it all just to have lunch with them or send a letter. Think about it - high risk, high reward. Ray would only violate the order, if he could have them completely. But in order to not get caught, he’ll use maternal figures to lure them. They just lost their mother and seeing or talking to someone so similar to Shawna would make them that much more susceptible. But Brynn and Eliza are both mothers who have given up their sons. This means they know what inadequate guardians look like. They’re aware the kids are better off with Malcolm, and they won’t be responsible for abducting them and placing them under Ray’s care. It would completely go against their own reasoning for giving away their children. Their refusal to help him execute the plan angers him to the point of murder. He isn’t just killing because they’re surrogates for his rage, but because they refuse to help him achieve his goal.

ROSSI: The kids are his endgame.

BLAKE: All he’s wanted is a family. Now that he knows he has one that hasn’t already betrayed him, he’ll stop at nothing to have them.

HOTCH: What’s the address, Garcia?

GARCIA: Already sent it, sir.

The BAU rushes out of the conference room.

. . .

Maggie and Ray are sitting in his car. They’re watching the three children play - staking them out. Malcolm - their father, is nowhere to be seen. We’re to assume he’s at work while they’re at home.

RAY: You see the boy with the red hoodie? That’s Malcolm Jr. He’s the oldest. Same age as your boy. Then Evan is the middle child. He’s eight. But the baby - she’s my favorite. Her name is Ariel cause of her red hair. She’s six.

Maggie smiles for a split second before frowning.

MAGGIE: You don’t have to do this.

RAY: And I’m not. Because you will.

Maggie breaks her gaze from the children to look at Ray with shock.

MAGGIE: No, no, no I’m not kidnapping them. I won’t do it.

Ray retrieves his gun and points it at her stomach.

RAY: You had a chance to have your family with Elijah. But you gave him up. Now that I have a chance, you’re gonna help me.

MAGGIE: What if I don’t?

RAY: You’re smart. Figure it out.

MAGGIE: I will not be taunted with death if I don’t help you take someone else’s babies away. So go ahead, kill me. I’ve got nothing left to live for anyway.

A gunshot.

Standing in front of the car, is Malcom with his shotgun. The windshield is shattered by a single bullet that penetrated it. Malcolm fired a shot right through Ray’s head. Maggie is alive and in complete and total shock. Once Malcolm knows he’s dead he rushes to her door to help her.

MALCOM: You have to unlock it.

Maggie is forced to reach over Ray’s dead body and unlock the car. When she does, Malcolm helps her exit the vehicle. Maggie’s seen putting pressure on her stomach to stop the bleeding.

Within seconds of escaping, police SUV’s arrive. Spencer is the first to run out of the car.

Relief overcomes Maggie.

MAGGIE: Spencer!

She stops him before he can hug her.

MAGGIE: No wait! I’m bleeding.

Spencer ignores this and embraces her. Maggie sobs hysterically when he does.

MAGGIE: He . . . he killed my -

SPENCER: Shh, I know. I know. I’m here now, okay?

Neither of them pull away.

MAGGIE: Oh my god. I can’t believe you’re here. I knew I’d see you again.

SPENCER: Yeah, you did. You were right Mags.

These words make Maggie shut her eyes and smile.

Hotch approaches the pair from behind.

HOTCH: Miss Tate, there’s an ambulance here for you. Let’s get you to a hospital.

Maggie nods as Spencer helps her limp to a stretcher.

When she situates herself and is lifted into the back of the ambulance, Spencer turns to Hotch.

SPENCER: Can I -

HOTCH: Yes, yes, go. We’ll meet you there.

Spencer enters the back of the ambulance and sits beside Maggie as they ride to the hospital together.

MAGGIE: You’re coming?

Spencer nods and gives a small reassuring smile.

Another tear escapes her eyes as she smiles through the oxygen mask to thank him.

. . .

The entire team is seated in a waiting room. Spencer is standing up and pacing as he waits for the doctor.

A doctor soon enters.

DOCTOR: Is there a Spencer Reid?

Spencer comes over quickly.

SPENCER: That’s me.

DOCTOR: Come with me, sir.

Spencer follows the Doctor.

DOCTOR: Luckily, the lacerations didn’t travel far enough to do a significant amount of damage that would require surgery, but we did have to perform a blood transfusion due to the amount of blood she lost.

SPENCER: How’s the baby?

DOCTOR: It was too early to tell the sex of the baby before she miscarried. She’s awake now and has been asking for you.

SPENCER: Thanks.

The doctor leaves as soon as Spencer knocks on the door.

SPENCER: (quietly) Maggie?

Maggie’s face lights up when she sees him.

MAGGIE: Hey you.

Spencer pulls a chair closer to Maggie’s bedside to take her hand and kiss the back of it. She smiles as he does this.

SPENCER: How are you feeling?

MAGGIE: Is it possible to feel incredibly lucky and incredibly lucky at the same time?

Spencer gives her that small reassuring smile.

MAGGIE: I’ll be okay.

SPENCER: Good.

MAGGIE: I’m starting to regret not letting Tony take me home.

Maggie and Spencer share a laugh.

SPENCER: Yeah, I think you should let him drive you from now on.

MAGGIE: Yeah, you’re probably right, but I don't think I want to work there anymore. Or even live here for that matter.

SPENCER: I don’t blame you.

MAGGIE: I grew up here, but it doesn’t feel like home anymore.

SPENCER: Where are you thinking of going?

MAGGIE: Well, I completed my bachelor’s degree to become an English teacher, but I never applied to any schools. I think in my gut I knew I didn’t want a job to tie me down here, otherwise I’d never leave California - no matter how much I should. So realistically anywhere that’s offering positions to English teachers is ideal.

Hearing Maggie’s an English major doesn’t surprise Spencer.

SPENCER: You know, when I go back to D.C, I can find open teaching positions for you. Moving there would be a big change, but I think you’d feel safer at least.

MAGGIE: I think I would too. And I wouldn’t mind the change. Getting a couple thousand miles closer to you doesn’t sound so bad.

Spencer cheekily grins.

SPENCER: Yeah?

Maggie nods.

Hotch enters the room.

HOTCH: It’s time.

Reid nods and turns back to Maggie.

SPENCER: I’ll see you soon.

MAGGIE: Can’t wait.

SPENCER: Goodbye, Maggie.

He sits up and kisses her forehead. For a moment, he rests his forehead on hers. Maggie smiles when he does this little gesture.

MAGGIE: Thank you.

Spencer nods and shuts the door behind him when he leaves.

With a heavy heart, Spencer leaves the hospital.

. . .

On the plane back, everyone is asleep besides Spencer and Hotch.

HOTCH: How is she?

SPENCER: She’ll be okay, but I can’t seem to figure out why. I thought she’d be broken. And I think deep down she is, but when she smiles, she isn’t faking it.

HOTCH: “Sometimes the ones who have the brightest smiles are the ones who have known and endured deep darkness.”

SPENCER: Dodinsky. (the author of the quote)

. . .

It’s been a week since Spencer has visited Maggie, but he’s back now. Maggie is lying on her hospital bed, with Spencer entering her room. He hides something behind his back.

SPENCER: Knock! Knock! I brought you something.

MAGGIE: Oooh, fun!

Spencer pulls out headbands with the words “Fourth of July” in block letters.

SPENCER: Here.

He slides one on top of her head and puts the other on himself.

MAGGIE: What’s this for?

SPENCER: Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, we subconsciously link the tragic event with the date it happened on. It happens most often with death anniversaries, birthdays, or in your case, holidays. But I want to make the Fourth of July a good holiday again. So earlier, I asked the doctors if I could take you up to the roof to watch the fireworks.

MAGGIE: Spencer . . .

SPENCER: Humor me.

Maggie’s reluctant but she still reaches out her arms to have Spencer help her out of bed anyway. He wheels over the wheelchair to her and she groans.

MAGGIE: Are you actually gonna make me use that?

SPENCER: I mean, you’re welcome to walk around the hospital with your backless patient gown.

Maggie laughs and complies. Spencer begins to wheel Maggie out of her room and into the elevator that goes up to the roof. When they finally get there, Maggie’s face lights up. There’s a whole picnic set out for the two of them. A blanket with small fixings is laid out for them.

Maggie rises from the wheelchair and turns around to engulf Spencer in the biggest hug.

MAGGIE: Thank you. This is like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.

Spencer hugs her back even tighter. His hand is on the small of her back, and for a second he can feel her smooth skin, but like the gentleman he is, he tightly wraps Maggie’s hospital gown to cover her exposed skin. A small gesture that to Maggie, does not go unnoticed.

. . .

Maggie and Spencer's backs are lying flat against the blanket. They’re in the middle of a conversation where each of them are smiling.

SPENCER: JJ said that Henry wanted to dress up as his favorite profiler, and he came into the office as me. I even gave him my badge.

MAGGIE: That is adorable! I can’t wait to have kids and celebrate Halloween with them.

Spencer goes quiet, making Maggie realize what she said.

MAGGIE: Oh, gosh, sorry I did not mean for that to take a dark turn.

SPENCER: Do you want to talk about it?

Maggie pauses.

MAGGIE: Um, I mean, sometimes I get sad, but for the most part I’m okay. I think I’ve finally accepted that it happened. You know, I’m actually sort of relieved that I didn’t carry the baby full term, because could you imagine how complicated that would be? Yeah, it’s . . . it’s better this way. And I’ve always wanted a family, but if I had that sperm donor’s baby, I wouldn’t have a family, it’d just be me and the baby. But I want my child to grow up with a father, you know?

Yes, Reid does know. He wishes his father was around.

SPENCER: Yeah, I do.

MAGGIE: What about you? Do you want kids?

SPENCER: Absolutely. It’s funny because I always say that I could never picture myself leaving my job and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. But if I had kids, they’d be the exception. I, uh,

Spencer lightly laughs and looks down.

SPENCER: Yeah, I don’t know, I just really want to be a dad one day.

MAGGIE: You’d be a really good dad. I mean that.

Originally, Maggie and Spencer were both looking up at the sky, but after Spencer turned his head and Maggie turned hers, their faces were only inches away. Spencer licks his lips as he contemplates kissing her. But he pivots. He smiles and kisses her forehead.

Simultaneously, a firework goes off, startling the duo. Maggie laughs in excitement.

SPENCER: Did you know that at MIT, one of the lessons they taught students earning their degree in chemistry was how to make a firework?

MAGGIE: You know how to make one? What do they use to make the colors?

SPENCER: Good question. To create certain colors, different physical elements are used. Magnesium creates a bright white light, like that one right there. While strontium and lithium each showcase a different shade of red, like the first one we saw. But the most dangerous colors to form, blues and greens, are formed from barium and copper.

Spencer’s explanation continues for a little longer. The view above the pair zooms out. They’re just two small people on the roof of the hospital.

. . .

Spencer is in his apartment. He’s on the phone with Maggie.

MAGGIE: So I’m looking at an apartment in Manassas right now. It’s only half an hour away from the school and it’s a 45 minute drive from your apartment.

SPENCER: You’re not very good at changing the subject, Maggie. Even now, I can read your body language.

MAGGIE: I’m not changing the subject. I’m just mentioning my other options that are unrelated to the one you proposed.

SPENCER: Wow, is the idea of living with me really that bad?

MAGGIE: No! I would love to live with you.

SPENCER: But?

MAGGIE: But you’ve already done so much. You’ve saved my life twice, visited me every week I’ve been in the hospital, made the Fourth of July fun again, and helped me find a great teaching job over there. So I am sincerely grateful, but moving in with you would feel like taking advantage of your good heart. You’ve done a lot for me already, okay? I can take care of myself from now on.

SPENCER: Okay, think of it instead as a mutualistic relationship. We both receive net benefits from moving in. You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me because I’d be gaining something from it, too. I’d have a roommate and my rent would dichotomize. And for you, you’ll only be driving 15 minutes to work instead of 30.

MAGGIE: Did you ever consider being a lawyer? You’re quite convincing.

SPENCER: So is that a yes?

MAGGIE: It’s a “Yes I’ll move in with you but only if Plan A doesn’t pan out.”

SPENCER: Promise me you’ll think about it.

MAGGIE: Okay, fine. I’ll think about it.

SPENCER: Say it.

MAGGIE: I promise.

Spencer yawns. Maggie hears it.

MAGGIE: What time is it over there?

SPENCER: 11:54.

MAGGIE: Spencer! Why didn’t you tell me? You should’ve been asleep like two hours ago.

SPENCER: I’ll be fine. I don’t have to be at work until 7.

MAGGIE: You of all people know how bad it is to get less than 8 hours of sleep. I’m gonna hang up now so you can at least get 6.

SPENCER: Then I’ll call back.

MAGGIE: Then I’ll decline.

SPENCER: Fine, if I go to sleep, you have to agree to consider living with me as more than a Plan B.

MAGGIE: I already said I would!

SPENCER: Mmm no. I’m not really feeling it. You have to say it nicely.

MAGGIE: If you sleep now, I’ll consider living with you as more than a backup plan.

SPENCER: Music to my ears. Sleep well, Maggie.

MAGGIE: Sweet dreams, Spencer.

Spencer lets Maggie hang up. Let it be known, that he has never once ended a call.

. . .

It’s a few weeks later. Maggie’s finally out of the hospital. It’s official that she has the teacher job - no interview required thanks to Garcia. Currently, she and Spencer are packing the last of her things away into boxes in preparation for the cross country move she’s making tomorrow.

MAGGIE: I know I’m still a little fragile, but the doctor said I’m all clear to resume normal activities. So would you please let me help you with the boxes?

SPENCER: Mmm, I don’t think so.

MAGGIE: Need I remind you that I’ve been through worse than packing?

SPENCER: That would violate our designated jobs! I pack the boxes - you label them, remember?

Spencer picks up a book from her shelf and reads the spine of it. From the looks of how empty the bookshelf is, he’s been packing away the books this entire time they’ve been packing.

SPENCER: By the way, I love your book collection. Very diverse. But the way you’ve organized them is peculiar, though.

MAGGIE: What do you mean? Each shelf is categorized by genre.

SPENCER: No, I figured that out, but why not in alphabetical order? Cause, see, you have several books from Dickens, but they’re sporadic on your shelves. And again with Austen and Steinbeck, you have several of their books, so organizing by last name means that all the books by the same author would be together.

MAGGIE: Alright then, when I move, you can organize my bookshelf.

SPENCER: Sweet!

MAGGIE: I was joki-

Maggie notices that Spencer actually takes pleasure in organizing her books, so she refrains from saying she’s joking.

MAGGIE: Can I see a box? I forgot I have stuff on my fridge still to take down.

SPENCER: Here.

Spencer hands Maggie a box. Maggie begins to fill the box with her fridge magnets, postcards, and small reminders she put on her fridge. Only one picture is left on the fridge - a sonogram picture. Maggie had completely forgotten it was even there. But she drops the box immediately and pulls it off, placing it close to her chest.

SPENCER: You okay?

Maggie pauses for a moment cherishing the picture.

MAGGIE: Yeah.

SPENCER: What is it?

Spencer comes over.

MAGGIE: I thought I threw this away, but I guess I didn’t. It was my first sonogram.

SPENCER: Oh, from a few weeks ago?

MAGGIE: No - years ago. This is Elijah’s.

Maggie smiles when she sees the picture.

SPENCER: I think you should keep it - the picture I mean.

MAGGIE: Yeah, I think I might. I mean, if it’s stayed with me all these years, no sense in throwing it away now.

Maggie puts the picture at the top of the pile in the box.

. . .

Maggie and Spencer are on the plane heading to Virginia. Reid’s reading and Maggie is sorting through some papers with an earbud in one ear.

MAGGIE: Before we left, I contacted the landlord for that apartment in Manassas weeks ago, but he never got back to me.

SPENCER: I guess it’s a good thing you have a Plan B then.

Spencer smirks.

MAGGIE: Remind me again that we mutually benefit so I don’t feel so guilty that you’re constantly helping me but I can never find the opportunity to pay you back.

SPENCER: Stop it, okay. I want you to move in with me.

MAGGIE: I snore really loudly.

SPENCER: Completely okay.

MAGGIE: I take long showers.

SPENCER: Not a problem.

MAGGIE: Late at night, I’ll get random bursts of energy and get really hyper and bothersome.

SPENCER: So do I.

Maggie groans in frustration.

MAGGIE: I feel like you know the reason why I don’t want to move in with you, but even I don’t know why.

SPENCER: It’s quite simple actually. You’ve spent nearly a decade living alone. And because of that, you think you prefer isolation over having company. But in reality, you’re just scared. Because the last time you were surrounded by a lot of people, they eventually died, essentially abandoning you. And it might not seem like it, but I know exactly what that feels like. To be scared of abandonment.

MAGGIE: Really?

SPENCER: When I was three, my dad left me and my mom. And a year ago, my girlfriend was shot in front of me.

Maggie’s speechless.

SPENCER: You and I - we’re scared to let people in and get attached to them. The reason is because we’re afraid to suffer or let go. So, we think, in order to protect ourselves, we have to stay away from the people we’re getting attached to - which is hard because it is equivalent to avoiding the privilege of becoming happy. So we’re caught in the middle of which pain we’d rather endure - the pain caused by unhappiness and loneliness, or the pain that we know, nobody will ever be strong enough to stand against - the pain of letting go.

Maggie’s astonished.

MAGGIE: If our love could’ve saved them, they would’ve lived forever.

A tear rolls down Maggie’s cheek. Spencer uses the pad of his thumb to brush it away.

. . .

Maggie and Spencer are at the baggage claim of the Virginia Airport. Maggie yawns and leans into Spencer, who puts his arm around her and comfortingly rubs her.

SPENCER: Tired?

MAGGIE: Extremely.

SPENCER: We can get coffee on the way home.

MAGGIE: Are you reading my mind right now?

Spencer laughs.

Maggie sees her suitcase come through on the conveyor belt. Maggie lifts her baggage up, and they begin to exit the airport.

. . .

Spencer is driving and Maggie is in the passenger seat, trying to fight her sleepiness.

SPENCER: Tell me about your parents.

Maggie’s surprised by not unwilling.

MAGGIE: My mom’s name was Amina. She met my dad, Sonny, in college, and had me when she was 24, but he took off when she got pregnant. At first, I didn’t mind it just being the two of us, but when I was seven, there was a father-daughter dance at my school. I wrote him a letter inviting him to it. He didn’t show up, of course. Not that I really expected him to, but ever since then, I’ve resented him. My mom used to say that he was the reason why I dated Charlie. She said that I never got to see an example of what a good man looks like or how a girl should be treated. In hindsight, she was totally right.

SPENCER: How did she react to your pregnancy?

MAGGIE: Well, at first she said she was gonna slap Charlie, but she wasn’t even really mad at me. Instead, she just said that if I wanted to have a future and if I wanted the baby to have a good future, I should set up an adoption. Later that same year, she helped me file a restraining order on Charlie. My mom was always looking out for me. It felt like she always knew what the right choice was.

SPENCER: She sounds like a really good person.

MAGGIE: And she was. I just wish I told her that more often. Growing up, I thought one day I’d get a job and become rich enough to support the both of us. I’d even buy her a range rover - it was a car she wanted since forever. I never got to do that for her, but she used to say to me, “Some people are so poor, all they have is money.” And I think about that everyday. I was never spoiled or born with a golden spoon, but we were so rich in love. She loved me so much, that she’s the reason I wanted to have a baby. Just days after her death anniversary, I visited the clinic. It’s silly, but I just wanted to be half as good a mother as she was.

SPENCER: I feel the same way about my mom. I wanted to grow up and create a cure for schizophrenia by the time I was 29. And even though I’m far from doing so, I’m not giving up hope that I still can.

MAGGIE: Does she live here?

SPENCER: She’s in a facility in Vegas.

MAGGIE: Well, if I ever find myself in Nevada, I’d really like to thank her for raising the perfect son.

Spencer gaily smiles.

SPENCER: Would you maybe want to visit her with me one day?

Maggie nods.

SPENCER: You two would have a lot to talk about. She was a former professor of 15th century literature.

MAGGIE: Does she still hold lectures?

SPENCER: She does. I attended one of them years ago. It completely changed my perspective. I realized that I owe all of who I am today to her.

MAGGIE: Then we have to attend one of her lectures when we visit.

SPENCER: She’ll be so happy when I let her know.

Maggie and Spencer continue to talk about literature.

. . .

Now in a coffee shop, Maggie and Spencer are nursing their drinks at a table in the corner of the cafe.

MAGGIE: Earlier, we were talking about your mom a lot, but on the plane, we spoke about your dad leaving when you were really little.

SPENCER: Yeah, um, eventually he wrote a letter saying that he just didn’t know how to be a dad to me anymore. That and he couldn’t deal with my mom’s paranoid schizophrenia anymore.

MAGGIE: I’m sorry to hear that. I know it’s not easy growing up without a dad.

SPENCER: He’s partly the reason I want to have kids. I want to be the dad mine never was.

Maggie nods.

SPENCER: I’m not as mad as I used to be about it. Over time, I slowly stopped caring about him.

MAGGIE: As you should.

SPENCER: Um, we still have an hour before we’re home so-

MAGGIE: Yeah, no of course. Lemme just use the bathroom really quick before we go.

Maggie leaves her phone and her coffee cup at the table. Spencer sips from his drink but stops when he sees Maggie’s phone ringing. The call’s number has a familiar area code. Spencer instantly recognizes it from Manassas. He realizes that the caller is the landlord from the apartment in Manassas that Maggie said hadn’t gotten back to her. He looks at the bathroom and sees Maggie isn’t back yet, so he declines and deletes the call.

He wants Maggie to live with him, and knowing the landlord called her back would ruin any chances of that happening. And Spencer wasn’t taking any chances.

. . .

Maggie and Spencer are finally at his apartment. They’re climbing the flight of stairs, with Spencer carrying Maggie’s backpack for her - like a gentleman. When they reach his door, Spencer unlocks it and opens it for her to walk through first. In that same breath, confetti comes flying.

Maggie is startled by this, but comes to realize that the entire BAU is in his apartment. A banner hangs behind the team saying “Welcome!”

She laughs and goes to greet each of them.

JJ: I’m JJ.

Maggie shakes her hand.

MAGGIE: Maggie Tate. Nice to meet you.

MORGAN: Derek Morgan. I’ve heard a lot about you.

MAGGIE: All good things I hope.

HOTCH: Aaron Hotchner.

MAGGIE: Right of course. I remember you from the day you guys found me.

BLAKE: Alex Blake. Nice to finally meet you.

MAGGIE: Likewise.

ROSSI: David Rossi. Spencer’s Italian grandpa.

Maggie laughs and Rossi greets her by kissing each of her cheeks.

ROSSI: Got any Italian blood in you?

MAGGIE: Oh, I wish. Half Filipino, half Mexican.

ROSSI: A beautiful mix nonetheless.

Finally, Maggie meets Penelope. Before Maggie can even say anything, Penelope envelopes her in a huge hug.

MAGGIE: You must be Penelope!

She pulls away.

GARCIA: At your service.

MAGGIE: I really like your glasses. Cool color.

GARCIA: (to Spencer) I love her already.

Maggie returns to Spencer after all the greetings.

MAGGIE: Did you know they were gonna do this?

SPENCER: I might’ve.

Maggie turns back to everyone.

MAGGIE: I wish I would’ve known I was meeting you all, I would’ve worn something nicer than leggings and jet lag.

They laugh and tell her that it’s not a problem.

GARCIA: So we thought you guys might be hungry, so there’s chips and guac as well as other little snacks.

MAGGIE: It’s crazy, because I was craving just that.

Penelope gasps and smiles. She extends her arm for Maggie to wrap her arm around.

GARCIA: Well then let’s dig in.

Garcia leads Maggie arm in arm to the food. While Spencer draws back to set her things down. JJ waits up for him.

JJ: She’s pretty.

SPENCER: She is, isn't she? And she’s more than that, too. Everytime we talk, she never fails to surprise me with her wit or mind. She reminds me a lot of you.

JJ smiles as Spencer and her rejoin the group.

. . .

It’s almost the evening now, and Maggie and Spencer are bidding each guest goodbye. The last one to leave is of course Penelope. But when she does, Spencer and Maggie are alone again. Spencer shuts the door behind Garcia, and turns and presses his back to it and sighs. Maggie exhales too.

SPENCER: I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think this would last for as long as it did.

MAGGIE: No, no don’t apologize. I like spending time with them. I’m pretty sure Garcia’s energy cured my jet lag.

Spencer laughs and walks back to Maggie.

MAGGIE: I think I’m gonna go shower now. Try to wash off the flight from me.

Spencer nods and leads her to the bathroom.

SPENCER: Just turn this knob to the left if you want it hotter, and to the right if you want cold water. When you’re done just press down on this.

Spencer presses on the little knob, and when he does, the shower sprays him with water and sprays Maggie, too. She squeals and begins to laugh when she sees Spencer’s hair is drenched. It’s all stringy and in his face, so she pushes it back to see his smiling face. She leaves her hands around his cheeks, cupping his face.

MAGGIE: Well that’s one way to get wet!

SPENCER: Oh yeah? What’s the other?

The delivery of his innuedo is so subtly seductive. Maggie dismisses it and laughs instead.

MAGGIE: Um, just tell me where the towels are and I can bring you one to dry your hair.

He points her in the direction and Maggie promptly leaves the bathroom. When she does, Spencer sees himself in the mirror and realizes just how ridiculous he looks. But on the inside, he feels doubly ridiculous. He’s so embarrassed from what he just said that his cheeks turn red.

. . .

Spencer is cleaning up what was left of the welcoming party. He’s in the kitchen, when he hears Maggie exit the shower. Her hair is damp and stringy, and she’s drying it with a towel. Spencer notices the clothes she’s wearing. She has on sweatpants and to his surprise, his shirt.

MAGGIE: I forgot my pajamas were with the moving truck. I hope you don’t mind.

SPENCER: Not at all.

Maggie thanks him with a smile and walks a little more into the living room. She notices that the couch has a blanket and pillows on it.

MAGGIE: What is this?

SPENCER: What do you mean?

MAGGIE: Are you gonna sleep out here?

SPENCER: Yeah, why?

MAGGIE: No.

SPENCER: No what?

MAGGIE: No, you’re not sleeping on your couch in your own apartment. I won’t let you.

SPENCER: It’s fine really. I’ve slept on it before.

MAGGIE: Do you not want to share a bed?

SPENCER: No, it’s not about that. I just want you to have the bed to yourself.

MAGGIE: If anything, I should be sleeping on the couch because I’m a guest.

SPENCER: No, I’m serious. I’ll sleep out here.

MAGGIE: Okay fine.

Maggie dramatically flops onto the couch.

MAGGIE: Then I’ll join you.

Spencer sighs and shakes his head.

SPENCER: You’re really gonna sleep on the couch with me?

MAGGIE: Mhm.

SPENCER: Why are you being so stubborn?

MAGGIE: Why are you being so stubborn?

SPENCER: Are you just gonna repeat what I’m saying?

MAGGIE: Are you just gonna repeat what I’m saying?

SPENCER: You’re acting childish.

Spencer comes over to Maggie. He stands in front of her, towering over her small figure.

MAGGIE: You’re acting childish.

SPENCER: Stop repeating what I’m saying.

MAGGIE: Stop repeating what I’m saying.

SPENCER: I mean it, Maggie!

She shoots up from the couch and makes a grumpy face to imitate Spencer. Their bodies are so close.

MAGGIE: I mean it, Maggie!

Spencer takes the opportunity of their closeness and uses it to put his arms behind her back and swoop her up - bridal style. Maggie squeals and tries to squirm out of his arms, but he resists and carries her all the way into the bedroom. He tosses her onto the bed and starts to tickle at her sides.

MAGGIE: Stop! Stop!

Maggie’s laughing so hard, she’s breathless.

SPENCER: Not until you agree to sleep in the bed.

MAGGIE: I want to sleep on the couch with you!

SPENCER: Well I guess I’m gonna keep tickling you then.

Maggie laughs so hard she’s almost in tears. Suddenly, she sees a window of opportunity to escape. When she does she runs out into the living room. Spencer chases after her through the apartment. Maggie dodges some of his attempts to capture her, but is ultimately outrun by him. He gets her to fall flat on the couch as he hovers above her. Both of them are smiling and breathless.

SPENCER: You’re not gonna give this up are you?

Maggie shakes her head no.

SPENCER: Alright, I surrender. But if in the morning, you wake up and find that you’ve magically teleported to the bed after falling asleep on the couch, it wasn’t me.

MAGGIE: Deal.

. . .

It’s sometime late at night and Spencer has finished showering. Maggie’s traveling through his apartment and looking at everything closer. She notices he has a record player. And all the records are classical music.

MAGGIE: Interesting record collection. Beethoven, Mozart, and Bach. Why am I not surprised?

SPENCER: Am I that predictable?

MAGGIE: Just a little. Care if I try to expand your music taste?

Maggie pulls out her phone. After some scrolling and typing, she begins to play “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron. Spencer is unfamiliar with this song, but it’s abundantly clear Maggie loves it.

MAGGIE: Do you dance?

SPENCER: Oh, no, no.

MAGGIE: Just dance with me. I’ll teach you.

The song plays in the background as Spencer shyly approaches Maggie. Maggie puts one arm out and Spencer takes her hand. Then he timidly puts his hand on her back, but with confidence, Maggie slides his hand down to her waist. Maggie puts her hand on his shoulder. Promptly, Spencer and Maggie both peer down at their feet as Maggie leads the dance. She does the classic box step, and after fidgeting around, Spencer gets it.

MAGGIE: There you go. You got it!

They dance a little more.

MAGGIE: Do you think you can lead?

Spencer nods, and Maggie lets him lead. As the song reaches the chorus, Spencer finally gets his confidence. He doesn’t have to look down at his feet anymore. He finally looks at Maggie. To her surprise, Spencer spins her and dips her. They stay put in this position. Neither of them break eye contact.

MAGGIE: You sure you don’t dance?

Spencer sheepishly smiles and shakes his head. He brings her up from the dip. Maggie’s flustered from the thrill of dancing with him, so much so that she pulls away.

MAGGIE: So, did you um, did you like the song?

SPENCER: Yeah, I did.

MAGGIE: You know, that, that could be like our song.

SPENCER: Our song. Yeah, okay.

. . .

It’s the middle of the night now. Maggie is sprawled across the couch, asleep. Spencer is at the table reading. He only has one dim light on so as not to make it harder for Maggie to sleep with a bigger light on. He peers over the couch and sees that she’s sleeping so he picks her up and carries her bridal style again. When he lays her in the bed, she stirs and mumbles.

MAGGIE: (quietly) Spencer?

SPENCER: (whispering) Sorry, I was trying not to wake you.

MAGGIE: Can you just sleep in the bed? I don’t want you on the couch.

SPENCER: Yeah, yeah. I’ll sleep on the bed. I’ll sleep soon, but I’m just gonna be outside reading. Goodnight, Maggie.

Maggie’s already fallen fast asleep again. Spencer leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

As Spencer approaches the table, his reading material can be visibly seen. A thick stack of papers within a manila folder labeled “CONFIDENTIAL.” He opens it to resume reading the contents. On the very front, a scanned picture of a man’s driver’s license is paperclipped to another paper. The name on the driver’s license reads, “S.J Glover.” a.k.a Sonny Jr. Maggie’s dad.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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