#Although my psychologist did ask me if I wanna get that tested

[multiharlot]

real life spencer / matthew gray gubler x reader

summary: in which matthew meets the woman who inspired the man that’s stolen the hearts of america.

masterlist

part two

third person pov

the girl walked timidly through the busy filming set, clutching her hands around the strap of her shoulder bag. she approaches the studio doors, rocking awkwardly on her white low top vans and running her hand through her hair. her yellow midi skirt swayed softly over her legs as the warm los angeles breeze floated through her white button up. the doors open suddenly and she jumps back, nearly tripping over herself. 

“you must be, y/n. i’m jeff davis, thank you for coming in today.” the man smiles, sticking his hand out to the girl. 

her mouth opens and closes before she smiles. 

“hi. sorry umm...germ thing.” she chuckled awkwardly. 

“oh. oh right i’m sorry. come in and meet the cast.” he says, wiping his hands on his pants and opening the door wider.

she stepped into the doors, tucking her hair behind her ears and waiting for jeff to lead the way. 

“we really appreciate you being here and consulting with us. we want to make this show as real as possible.” he explains as he leads her towards the writers room. 

“of course, i’m happy to help. you did decide to base a character off of me, it’s the least i can do.” she nods, the thought in her mind made her feel slightly awkward, but grateful nonetheless. 

“yes, the cast is so excited to meet you by the way. we all were. it’s not everyday you get to meet a real life genius.” he chuckles. 

“technically, passing the IQ test only determines that you have a certain IQ. a large portion of those with higher IQ’s aren’t all that smart. high IQ’s couldn’t determine your true intelligence, never mind a genius.” she shrugs, silently reveling in the fact that yet another person had called her a genius. 

she secretly hated the term genius. as complimenting as it was, the word had hung over her head her entire life. she herself never believe she was a genius, and the word alone made her feel as though she had to meet a certain quota. the idea of being a genius held her to a standard that she felt she couldn’t meet. 

“right...well i mean, you do have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory. so...you’re the most genius non-genius i’ve ever met.” jeff shrugged, stopping in front of the white door. 

“yeah...” the girl trails off, stopping beside him. 

“well this is the writer’s room, and this is our cast. everyone, meet agent- sorry, dr. y/n y/l/n. doctor, i give you the criminal minds cast.” jeff smiles as he opens the door, leading the girl into the room. 

she rocked awkwardly on her sneakers, waving timidly. 

“oh you’re so cute!” kirsten squeals, wrapping her arms around the girl, making her jump back. 

“sorry. ah. i’m sorry. i just uhh...germ thing.” she chuckles, making kirsten blush. 

“oh. oh i’m so sorry. i’m just a hugger.”

“that’s okay. you know our tendency to engage in physical touch is often a product of our upbringing. those of us who’s parents weren’t as physically demonstrative tend to disengage from activities like hugging, or even something as simple as a pat on the back.” the girl rambles nervously, making everyone in the room pause. 

“although, some children tend to have the exact opposite effect, leading to a starvation for human physical interaction, which in turn actually turns them into huggers.” matthew smiles widely at the girl. 

she blushes, and a nervous chuckle escapes her lips.

“you must be dr. spencer reid, nice to meet you.” she smiles, nodding her head at the man. 

“my name is matthew. matthew gray gubler. and it’s nice to meet you too, doctor.” he smirks, looking the girl up at down. 

shemar raises his eyebrow at him, an impressed smirk growing onto his face. 

“right, well, y/n here has graciously taken the day off to help assist in our terminology and making this show as realistic as possible. so, let’s get started.” jeff smiles, closing the door behind him. 

the room buzzes with light chatter as everyone begins taking their seats. y/n stood awkwardly off to the side, unsure of where she would be going. matthew takes note of this, and smiles softly, standing from his chair and walking over to her. 

“you can come sit next to me.” he smiles. 

“o-okay.” she nods, clutching the strap of her bag tightly and following beside him. 

the cast all exchange knowing looks as they looked from each other to the pair off in their own little world. 

“so, tell me, is working in the fbi as hectic as we’re making it seem?” matthew asks, leaning his head on his hands. 

“yes and no. we’re more of a sub-unit within the national center for the analysis of violent crimes. there are a total of six different behavioral analysis units, each of us working for a different type of crime.” she explains as the writers scribbled across their notepads feverishly. 

“and which one are you on?” thomas asks, and she smiles as she looks at the man. 

“i work in analysis unit 4, which is crimes against adults and we also work hand in hand with the violent criminal apprehension program, also known as ViCap.”

“is it true you graduated high school at twelve? or did jeff just make that up?” kirsten asks, her eyes wide and curious. 

“thirteen. not twelve. and after high school, i attended Stanford, Cal Tech, and then Harvard where i was immediately recruited by the US government. i’m not supposed to tell you this, but it’s true what they say about those who take math 55.”

“how many PhD’s do you have?” aj asks as she leans onto the table.

“two. chemistry and clinical psychology. and i also have a master’s degree in neurobiology.”

“did they wave you through the academy the same way they did pretty boy, here?” shemar asks, ruffling the top of matthew’s head. 

“no they did not. i actually went through the training, same as everyone else. one thing that isn’t accurate about this show, however, is that our agents are actually required to take a certain amount of personal days per month, and there’s a mandatory 12 hours of counseling with our building psychologist that we have to complete every month.” 

“how many personal days?” matthew asks, a flirtatious smile slapped on his face causing the butterflies to go into a frenzy in y/n’s stomach. 

“u-um. i have a quota of three days per month. so i usually take a long weekend at the end of every month.” she smiles, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. 

“do you carry a gun? oh! can we see your credentials?” aj gasps, almost excitedly. 

“i do. but only when i’m on the job. otherwise, i don’t like having them. and uhh..yeah sure.” y/n mumbles, rummaging through her purse and pulling out both her credentials and her identification card. 

y/n hands them to matthew and his fingers graze lightly over hers, causing a blush to form over her cheeks. he passes them along to the rest of the cast and he then looks down at the girl next to him. 

“can i draw you?”

“only if i can draw you.”

matthew chuckles, nodding his head. and the two mindlessly doodled each other as the meeting went on. y/n answered what seemed like an endless amount of questions and matthew simply stared her. her eyes, her nose, her lips. he found her absolutely beautiful, and he couldn’t manage to tear his eyes away from her for longer than 2 minutes at a time. as y/n finished her one line doodle of matthew, she scribbled a quick note at the bottom of the page, and tore it out of her notebook. matthew ripped the page from his, ready to hand it to the girl when jeff interrupted them. 

“alright guys, we’ll see you tomorrow. and thank you, dr. y/l/n, for coming in. i can’t explain how informative you’ve been.”

odd choice of words, she thought. but she nodded, saying you’re welcome nonetheless. 

everyone began to exit the room and matthew called out for the doctor, stopping her in her tracks. she looks up at him only realize just how tall he really was. 

“here.” he smiled, handing over the paper. 

to: the real life spencer reid from: gatthew may bugler

she giggled as she opened the page, seeing the truly abstract drawing of herself. 

“this is actually really good.” she smiled, staring down at the page. 

“thank you. it helped to have such a beautiful model.” he says, biting his lip nervously. 

a blush covered her cheeks and her ears and she giggled nervously. 

“well umm...here.” she says, handing over her page. 

when he folds open the paper, his mouth falls open at the beautiful one-line drawing she had done of him. then, his eyes fall to the bottom of the page, and his mouth runs dry.

“umm..give me a call if you need any...character reference.” she says as she rocks back and forth on her feet. 

“can i call you even if i don’t need any character reference?”

she smiles, nodding her head. 

“would uh...would you maybe want to go grab lunch with me?” he asks, scratching nervously at the back of his neck.

she opens her mouth to say something when her phone rings out. her eyebrows furrow as she pulls her phone out of her bag, her partners name across the top. 

“sorry, this’ll just take a second- i’m on my personal time, fields.” she sighs into the phone. 

“no no i know. so am i. and i also know you’re in los angeles. wanna go check out the bureau offices?”

“sorry, i have plans.” y/n shrugs, staring up at matthew. 

“oh do you? doing what?” fields questions. 

y/n bites her lip, reaching over and grabbing matthew’s hand. 

“someone’s taking me to lunch” she smiles, pulling matthew towards the studio exit and hanging up the phone.

“so, where are we going mr. bugler?” she smiles. 

“i thought you had a germ thing.” he says, raising an eyebrow at their intertwined hands.

“i’ll make an exception for you.” she shrugs, making him smile. 

“well, how does chinese sound?”

“perfect..as long as i don’t have to use those god awful chopsticks.”

“a PhD in engineering yet you can’t use chopsticks?”

“excuse you. dr. reid is the one with the PhD in engineering. i only have PhD’s in chemistry and psychology.”

“oh. yeah. only.”

taglist:

@dreatine​ @slytherinintj13​ @mileven-reddie​ @eleventhdoctorsangel​ @haileymorelikestupid

[mankillercalledbunny]

I’ve got a psych. appt. to get assessed for adult ADHD and I’m rly scared that I don’t have it. It’s not like I wanna have a disorder it’s just that it would explain everything and I could finally let go of some of the guilt and pain over my .. failures. How did you feel right before?

Although I haven't gotten my official assessment yet (I've been on the waiting list for nearly a year, but with COVID the NHS is probably going to be delayed another six months, whoo /sarcasm) I was incredibly nervous when I went for my doctor's appointment to ask for a referral for assessment. My partner, who was also diagnosed as an adult, had a similar response. Because an ADHD diagnosis would explain so much, the idea of being told "no, sorry actually, all those other people made a mistake, you're just fucked" was um. Terrifying.

I went to that referral appointment with as much stuff as I could use as evidence including both what I was told by a previous psychologist, the fact that several ADHD friends had looked at me and gone "...yeah get tested," as well as practical ways I could point to where ADHD was impacting my life and why diagnosis/treatment would help (I personally talked about how my flat is always a disaster and how much difficulty I have been having at uni).

I think one of the things that is most comforting is that you do have evidence, and remember that medical professionals base their decisions on evidence. You wouldn't have been referred for a psych appointment if the other doctor/therapist/etc didn't have evidence to do so.

Another thing to remember is that even if you don't get an official diagnosis, you can still recognise that you have features of ADHD and you can use ADHD accommodations. Be gentle with yourself, anon.

[miafic]

Fall AU (Part 3)

Part 1

Part 2

Zakk spent a lot of his time in the hospital feeling like he was visiting someone else’s life, like this couldn’t have possibly been happening to him. Or to Lucas. But it was.

He looked at Instagram a lot when the pain got overwhelming. Seeing happy people hurt, but it helped, too. He texted his sister because she avoided emotions like the plague and wouldn’t dare bring up what was going on with Lucas or ask any questions about him. Zakk was grateful; everyone else wanted an update on Lucas and asked Zakk how he was holding up. All that accomplished was pulling more tears out of Zakk, and from his perspective, crying had become a waste of time.

He started wearing a name tag when he went to see Lucas. Not always, but sometimes. When he did, Lucas always looked at it a few times. When he didn’t, Lucas still seemed a little bit happy to see him. It made Zakk feel good that he not only recognized him but had a positive association with him, although the doctor who’d been working with Lucas the most thought that Lucas was basing the association on new memories, not old ones. That was okay with Zakk, at least for the time being.

As far as Lucas knew, Zakk was his friend. It was heartbreaking, but it was a good place to be, relatively. He’d come across some horror stories online from people whose spouses didn’t want anything to do with them when they woke up with amnesia, so all of a sudden, being Lucas’ friend didn’t seem so bad. He reminded himself again that Lucas was alive. He was confused, and he was having a tough time, but he was alive.

It was almost kind of funny when, after three days, everything sort of slowed to a stop, and Zakk was instructed to take Lucas home.

The hospital had run all the scans and blood tests that they could, and Lucas had met with a slew of neurologists and psychologists, but no one had been able to give Zakk any predictions of when - or if - Lucas might improve. Zakk felt fully unqualified to be caring for Lucas on his own, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He wouldn’t ever dream of giving anyone else the task, though. He wondered briefly if this was what bringing a new baby home was like.

“Did you bring me here?” Lucas wondered. Zakk was driving out of the hospital’s parking lot, and Lucas kept touching the line where the cold window met the plastic of the car door.

“Yeah,” Zakk nodded. “Do you remember?”

“I don’t think so.”

Zakk hummed quietly, just relieved when Lucas didn’t ask why Zakk had taken him to the hospital in the first place. “We need to get you a nice, hot shower.”

“You said that already.”

It was the fourth time he’d said it over the previous day and a half, but that was the first time that Lucas seemed to have noticed. Zakk grinned. “Yeah, I did.” Tears flooded his vision, and he shifted all of his effort into keeping them in his eyes. It upset Lucas when he cried. “Are you gonna stay in the big bedroom with me, or do you want me to set up the guest room for you?”

“We’re going to your house?”

“Yes.”

“What about my house?”

Zakk knew that he had to be careful with what he said. Slowly, he stated, “It’s… the same house.”

“We live together?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re my best friend?”

“Yeah.” It was true; they may have been married, but they were best friends, too.

“Do we usually sleep in the same room?”

“Mmhmm. Do you want to tonight, or no? You don’t have to decide right now, but-”

“I wanna sleep by myself.”

Zakk felt a little pang of sadness, but he wasn’t surprised. Lucas still hadn’t wanted him to stay overnight at the hospital, and besides, in Lucas’ eyes, they’d only known each other for a few days. “Okay. I’ll get the guest room ready for you while you take a shower.”

“What are you gonna do to it?”

“Um, put your pillow in there, bring you some clothes, make sure the air’s set how you like it...” Take the pictures out...

“How do I like the air?”

There had been a lot of questions like that over the last day. An offhand comment about Lucas’ hair prompted him to ask how he usually wore it. Then, as more things came up, he wanted to know what sports he followed, what his favorite color was, what music he listened to, what he typically ate for breakfast, what kind of clothes he liked… Zakk felt so lucky to be able to give him all of the answers.

“Well, usually you like it a little warm. But if you want it cooler, we can do that, too.” He gave Lucas a smile.

Lucas nodded. 

—

Zakk held his breath as they pulled into the driveway, praying that Lucas would recognize the house, but he didn’t. They parked and got out, and Lucas seemed so unsteady on his feet as he walked inside that Zakk was relieved that he’d thought to ask Big T to come pick Baby up before they left the hospital.

“I’ll leave the door open a little, okay?” Zakk directed as he walked Lucas across the master bathroom. “You just call for me if you need me, and I’ll come help you.”

Discomfort flickered across Lucas’ face again, and Zakk sighed a little before explaining, “I don’t want you to fall. Sit down if you need to. If you get dizzy. And if you’re just tired, too.” Even a mild head injury could potentially kill him. The chances of that were slim, but slim wasn’t zero, and Zakk wasn’t willing to risk it.

“Kay.”

“Do you remember how to turn it on?”

Lucas stared at the handle before hesitantly reaching in and turning it. A stream of water began to fall. 

“Good. A little more to the left.”

Lucas turned it farther.

“Yep. Left for hotter, right for colder.”

“Okay.”

Zakk started to walk away.

“Wait.”

“What’s up?”

“I…” He licked his lips, staring at the carpet. “I think my brother died.”

It only took a second for Zakk to figure out that he was talking about Chance. He nodded.

“He did?”

“Someone really, really close to you died.”

“Can I see a picture of him?”

Zakk smiled sadly. “Take your shower, and then we can look at some pictures.”

“Not of me. Just him.”

Zakk nodded. He kept refusing to look at himself, even in the mirror, and Zakk didn’t understand why. The doctor didn’t seem too surprised, though. “I’ll find some.” He pointed at Lucas. “Hey, I’m serious - you sit down if you need to. And call for me.”

“I will.”

—

“This is him?” Lucas murmured, touching the image of Chance’s face on the phone. The picture immediately enlarged, and then all they were looking at was half of a tan neck.

“Here.” Zakk took the phone and reset the photo. It happened again.

Lucas frowned deeply.

“Let me print them really quick,” Zakk suggested.

Lucas waited patiently, but Zakk noticed that he seemed more attentive than he’d been since this whole amnesia thing started. Usually, he gazed carelessly around the room or just zoned out, but Lucas was actually… interested. This seemed really good.

“Do I have pictures of him here?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know where yours are, so I had his m- uh. I had someone send them to me.” 

“You don’t know where they are?”

“You hide stuff that’s important to you. Well - you don’t hide it, really, but you put it places and you don’t tell me. I don’t feel comfortable looking.” 

“Oh.”

Across the room, the printer started making noise. Lucas got up and walked over to it. He watched as the paper inched out of the machine, and then he picked up the first photo. “This is my little brother?” he asked.

“That was your high school best friend.”

“And you’re my now-best friend?”

“Uh-huh.” Zakk got up and went over to him. He tried not to look at Lucas’ long, wet hair.

“How old are we?”

Zakk hesitated and then wondered, “How old do you think you are?” 

Frustration crossed Lucas’ face. 

“You’re in your thirties.” 

The frustration turned to surprise, but it disappeared quickly as Lucas stared at the paper in his hands. 

Do you remember his name? Zakk wanted to inquire, but he didn’t, because the doctor had told him to stop asking that.

“He’s young,” Lucas stated, pointing at Chance.

“Seventeen.” 

“We were the same age?”

“Yes.”

“And he died?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened to him?”

“That’s… tricky. He decided to end his life, but you and I don’t know exactly how he passed away.”

That got Lucas to look at him. (Zakk wanted so badly to touch his hair.) “Why?”

“Your mom didn’t want anyone to tell you. If it helps, you told me a couple years ago that you’re glad you don’t know.”

Lucas didn’t respond to that. There was a long silence, and then he said curiously, “I think he likes turtles.”

Zakk smiled again, laughing a little in relief. “Yeah, sea turtles! He loved sea turtles.”

“I remembered something!” Lucas exclaimed, and it hit Zakk for the first time how distressing this whole experience must have been for Lucas.

“You sure did. You’re doing great, Lucas,” he replied sincerely. “I’m proud of you.” I love you so much. I’m so glad that it’s me taking care of you right now instead of you taking care of me.

The printer finished another photo, and Lucas reached down to pick it up. As he studied it, Zakk decided to ask a question he’d ask Lucas if Lucas were a kid at Peace and Purpose.

“What do you think about when you look at that picture?”

“I… don’t know his name,” Lucas murmured, “but I know how he makes me feel.”

“And how is that?”

Carrying the new piece of paper with both hands and not looking up from it, he went over to take a seat. “Sad. Happy.”

“Yeah.”

“But I know the turtles. Where’s his necklace?” Lucas asked, pushing at the image of Chance’s collar.

“You remember the necklace?!”

Lucas blinked, looking confused again. “No.”

“You just said…” Zakk said, his excitement fading as quickly as it had come. 

Lucas’ eyebrows knitted together, and the frown settled back onto his lips. He put the photo down. 

“That’s alright. Do you want to look at more pictures?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, what do you feel like doing?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I could sleep, I guess.”

Zakk glanced at the clock. It was almost 10. Sleep didn’t sound so bad, although he knew he’d ache all night to have Lucas lying with him just as he had every night for the last several days. He wondered whether it would be better or worse knowing that Lucas was just down the hall. 

Zakk decided not to restrain himself any longer; he reached out and brushed some of Lucas’ hair back over his shoulder. Moon of my life, he whispered inside his mind. “Okay. Let me grab your toothbrush.” He went into the bathroom and returned with it and an unopened tube of toothpaste. “If you need anything else, come get me. I don’t care what time it is.”

“Okay. Um, goodnight. Thanks for showing me the pictures of my friend.”

“Of course. Goodnight.”

Lucas closed the door, and Zakk felt his face crumble as he started to quietly cry. He envied Chance, the dead teenager, because Lucas had remembered him. He envied the fucking sea turtles. He felt weird for partially wishing that Lucas would have said that he wanted to have sex. Most of all, he missed combing Lucas’ hair out and then lying in his arms.

“Please, God,” Zakk whispered into the room as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Please, please, bring him back to me. Please bring him all the way back.”

---

Part 4

[theravenclawmonster]

I thought getting diagnosed would be able to get me help...(post 2 of dunno how many)

The previous post of this series of posts can be found in this link post 1

Trigger warning: This post (and the later continuation posts after it titled the same) may contain mentions of abuse, mental illness, suicidal thoughts and many more things which i will try to edit in it after writing the post(s) (hopefully i’ll remember to) [yes, this is the same in all posts in series]

Disclaimer: this is just a written account of events that happened in my life in the past few weeks and my emotional/ physical response to those events. I am writing this here so that it stays here as help for people to read and maybe see what certain things feel like, and as proof or diary for when i forget what really happened and start to believe her words. Also, this is going to be a long post... a very long post. 

Okay, where was i? The first visit to the doctor. I had my tests done and bought the acidity medicine and the vitamins he suggested (i had already started to take vitamins again since a couple of weeks before, he just added folic acid to that. I also have a bit of an issue with vitamins and people telling me to eat them indicating that all will be well after that; but more about that later). in the pharmacy, my mother was pretty upset with me cuz i kicked her out of the room and told me some stuff i don’t want to remember right now. ummm... basically she said “ why did you ask me to leave, what secret were you going to tell the doctor? what did you tell him we did to you? i know what you think about me. you could have just said it all in front of me. what was with all the secrecy” [funnily enough, although i did ask her to leave, my reason was cuz i can’t really speak in front of her (she interrupts a lot too) and i was worried that i’d cry and didn’t want to hear about it for another 6 months. there was no secret or i didn’t even think about mentioning the abuse, cuz how do you just go to a stranger and say “ hi i am in pain and my parents abuse me”. even asking for help for my pain was demanding enough for me.] . she also “informed” me very angrily that the it wasn’t allowed for a woman to be alone with a male doc, a nurse must be present (which was not present) and that is probably why doc didn’t do the proper physical checkup. Well! he should have (if he thought an extensive one was necessary; he did check my breathing and stomach softness), called a nurse in or my mother in. i didn’t have any issues with him doing my physical checkup alone too.  and he didn’t mention anything about that to me at all.

Anyway, I went back thinking God knows how long was this process was going to take and if i had the energy to fight for myself and make people believe that i was actually in a lot of pain. the reports came back fine (the expensive test one too, to much displeasure of my father “but this came back fine, so expensive for no use. why did he even write that test?” as if it would have been somehow better to get a positive test back for a disease?! I really don’t know how his mind works. By the time all reports were in, it was time for my appointment at the psychiatrist and it was decided to go to her first, then on our way back show the reports to our primary doc. that way we could also talk to him about what she said.

Oh wait, i forgot to mention in my last post. the doctor only suggested the psychiatrist and later sent me her number saying that i have told her about you please take an appointment. i had to call her and i asked about her fees which she very nicely said would be discounted and that helping me and understanding what was stressing me was more important. I felt so weird then, i don’t really hear these type of things very often.... or almost ever. 

going to the clinic was easy enough, of course my mother and father accompanied me. and my mother did follow in. [let me just add that i only remember about half of what happened so...] the doctor ( hereby referred to as Psy lady) asked me “so, how are you?” and i said “ i’m good *smiled awkwardly as she realised that was not what she meant to ask*. she was like okay, how do you feel and what do you want to discuss me with. so i just sat there like a dumbass. then i asked her how much the other doc told her about me. she said it was just that you are his patient and needs psychiatric help in his opinion.

I am just going to make a dialogue format written account for that and the next doctor’s visit as this seems way too confusing.

At that time (not sure) my mother interrupted;

Mother: *turned to me* “if you don’t mind may i tell her the history etc” *in pointed politeness*

Me: “ok.”

Mother: *launched from how i was such a brilliant smiling child and wanted to take this scholarship abroad but she said no* *went off a long tangent about how she was just being a nice worried parent in controlling my life and now feels guilty cuz i can’t let it go* *finished by saying* “Dr., she just can’t forget that, she is stressed no job plus the lock down etc you know how it is. then she found out she has scoliosis in january and i think she has taken it to heart, like really it is completely asymptomatic and i have asked the doc she won’t have any problems cuz of it in the future” (i am guessing she meant having babies but really who knows) “she has just taken stress over that”.

Psy lady : *scribbled something on her paper* “My i have some time alone with her?”

Mother: “yes yes sure” *left* 

Psy lady : “so tell me a bit about yourself.”

Me: *was still fuming and recoiling and shaking in my seat cuz i just don’t understand until how long is my mother going to throw that in my face. it has been years and i wasn’t even that upset about it (at least i just quietly internalized it) but she refused, controlled my life (since birth btw and still does now) and not even let me do anything else i want to do, nor find a job, then proceeded to throw her ‘oh i feel so guilty, i am such a good parent. i have commited a crime by being caring and now i must be punished oh!’ at me. Like where am i in all that? you say no, you control, your guilt, your love, your care, your image as a parent that must never be broken. where am i in all that? ALSO you never listen to my complains about pain so shut up* 

Psy lady: ...

Me: “umm... hi... i umm never had a dream, but then i found this thing in my mid-twenties and i loved it, but they didn’t let me pursue it, then didn’t let me do anything. and now they act like i am a burden on them. now i have nothing to do or like, and i can’t even find a job or have anywhere to go. i don’t even really wanna die, i am just tired” *burst into tears yet again as i realized i had no idea why i was telling her all that and it felt so fake and story like at the same time*    “... i can’t even breathe and i am in so much pain all the time that i feel like detached from my body cuz every time i try to be in it it fucking hurts.”

Psy lady: “are your parents always this much controlling” *pointed to the door indicating my mother*

Me: “they are emotionally abusive”

Psy lady: *had been looking into my eyes but looked away at the word abusive and didn’t say anything*

Me: *continued after a little shock that i actually said it out loud* “I can’t walk, my knees hurt” *tried to repeat almost all that was possible from the previous doc*   *also told her about feeling dissociative and explained a bit how that feels for me* * told her all about how i was fine in dragging me through life but now that my body has suddenly collapsed (where as before it was just emotional pain and numbness and occasional body pains in back and stuff nothing too overwhelming or maybe i was mentally strong to ignore it) i feel very scared and lost. I was dealing with everything fine on my own even when i felt like dying but now i cant handle anything, i can’t even act in front of others; something i am exceptionally good at* *talked about lowered brain function, slowness, low blood pressure, no energy suddenly, not being able to retain information or remember anything, not having a concept of time and memory*

Psy lady: *explained about DPDR disorder and asked me about sleep eating etc.*

Me: *repeated the same: loved sleep can’t now, loved eating can’t now* 

After some time of explaining asking and answering, she said that i have depression and what happens is that our brain stops making certain chemicals and to get it to make them again we have 2 options. one is medicine; the other is motivation and exercises. it seems like the latter would be hard for me (and i confirmed that i infact cannot walk or do almost anything and exercise is too painful cuz pain everywhere) she said that the best route in my situation is to start the medicine for some weeks (she said she’d not give them for more than 4 months; whole course including tapering them out) and explained that the medicines were very safe and answered all my queries about dependency on them or side effects etc. I said if that is what she thinks would be best and if taking them means i could feel alive again and my brain function would return to normal.

she then asked me to bring my mother back in. she explained the medicines to her and said i have diagnosed her with MDD. My mother asked what is that. She said Moderate Depressive disorder. my mother asked if the medicine was necessary. she  said yes, and to not worry as these were safe and she’s only giving to get me started and pull me out of this extreme state, only for a short time. she also said that come back after 10 days of eating these, so we can see the effect and the side effects if any, and that day she’d also get me an appointment for a psychologist who worked in the same clinic as she thinks it would help me immensely. we agreed. took the medicine and left for the doc no. 1′s clinic. My mother didn’t say anything.

we reached his office and throughout the short car ride and while sitting there waiting for my turn, i was feeling very... accomplished? enthusiastic? Dunno... I was just trying not to cry cuz i finally had it written on paper, i was finally diagnosed, i had finally gotten help. yes, it was only a start and i don’t know much about how doctors work diagnosis and how much more can be added in future visits but it was a start. i finally did something to actually help me.

Finally, our turn came. we showed him the reports and told him what she said and prescribed. My mother asked him if the meds were necessary. 

doc: “yeah they really believe in starting meds right away.”

mother: “I don’t want her to take them, it’s like giving up. she can use her will power and get better right?” [she also added something very weird like ‘these stamps (mental disorders diagnosed on paper) are not good for a woman’ or something along this line]

Doc: “yes she can. i too would suggest she do that.”

Mother: *went off on a long tangent about how when she was my age she had depression after having my older sister. but she will-powered through it and didn’t take the meds etc*

doc: “yes i agree, but it really depends on her is she willing to do it” *in a tone that suggested that i should say yes immediately and will-power though life*

Me: * realizing no one is listening to me* “doctor, can you please talk with the Psy lady and ask her if they are necessary in her opinion cuz i have no will left to power though with.”

Doc: “okay.” *called her and talked right then* * told her that he thinks it would be better to willpower through it?

Mother: “well she can will-power through right?”

Doc: “well the Psy lady said that she has been powering through with her will power for years; she has none left anymore. so she thinks that meds are the best option and besides” *looked at the prescription again* “these meds are not addictive and very safe.”

Mother: * insisted on no meds for 15 more minutes and had a long discussion with doc about praying, watching motivational speakers and what not*

doc: *joined in enthusiastically*

Me: *stared into the distance and stops listening with my wobbly neck and painful back*

Doc: “well she is not even listening. can you do it? exercise?”

me: “no it hurts, as i have explained before, not like the yayy muscle cramping up cuz i worked out way and i will love exercise in 2 weeks time way. No! the tendons hurt the bones hurt the joints hurt extremely painfully and it increases with time, even after 2-3 weeks it doesn’t get better.”

Doc: “okay, how about friends? social life? what do you do at home etc”

Me: “my friends are not here, i never made new ones. no social life. even when i was going to class before the lock down, it was from home to uni, uni to home. had no friends there. and i did walked in uni for about half an hour or even more but it hurt in the beginning, i thought okay, cramps (although my knees and heels were very painful too) but it almost felt like it got better (the cramps part) but then it got way worse and after a month i couldn’t walk for more than 10 minutes at a very slow painful speed.”

Doc: *asked about pets, anything that would suggest i was a living being with a life*

Me: “pets are not allowed and so is leaving the house by myself.”

Mother: *interjected* “we have never restricted her for anything.”

By this time, i had frankly given up and i don’t remember what happened next or where the conversation went. just remember something along the lines of “ for these 10-15 days before the next Psy lady appointment, let her do whatever she likes to, don’t ask her don’t control her. let her start up her social life again. she needs to be around friends and the things she can enjoy” something like this. to which my mother said very confidently “sure whatever she wants to do”

then, we left his office and in the car she told me to “not eat the meds as we have ‘now discussed it with your doctor”

this is getting way longer. i think i’d make one more post about it, or maybe one more after that for bits that i forgot. this post seems so badly written upon second inspection. this is not even the 40% of what happened but i don’t remember what happened exactly, or even the timeline.

The third and hopefully last post of this series can be found here post 3

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Blood, tears and sea breeze

Warnings: ANGST, mental health issues, graphic depictions of violence, blood, cursing, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sex, substance abuse.

Summary: The not so peaceful town of Broadchurch face dead again, while Alec Hardy continues his journey to redemption will this school teacher be the key to solve the mystery or just another victim of the ever watching evilness that seems to reside in the town.

First Previous Next

Chapter 11: Deja Vu

Danny Latimer's cliff, as the locals start calling it even when they already knew he was never tossed from there, was covered by a thick mist and the sea breeze coming from the ocean ahead of him was forcing Alec to lower his head and look at his feet.

For some reason he had listened to her and he was barefoot in the middle of that cold, however the soft hand pulling him to the edge was warm enough to make him ignore everything else.

She was dancing barefoot in the grass, in a floral dress that flew in the wind but was starting to get damp, and he was about to give her his jacket before she could catch a cold.

"Is beautiful isn't it?" Y/N said standing dangerously close to the edge and looking down to the sand hundreds of feet below. "It kind of makes you wanna jump"

"Why would you do that?" He said trying to pull her back to him, once she rise one leg in the air, taking an imaginary step.

"I don't, that's the point detective, also I wouldn't drag you down with me" Y/N said turning aside and rising her hand along with his, now being held by tight and big handcuffs. "Even when you put me here"

Her dress was gone and instead there was the prison white onesie on her, and her eyes were darkened by big bags underneath them, and he took a step away from her backwards crashing to something, he turned around to face Jonathan Norbury with a sad smile on his face.

"She did this" he said and bloodied spots were now visible on his clothes. "You know she did this" he repeated and then his legs finally responded and he tried to run...

Hardy wake up covered in sweat, disoriented since he was not in bed, but then he remembered, and his heart slowly went back to its normal rhythm. He look at clock on the wall 3:00 a.m. so he went to his office to try and get some work done before sunrise, he paced around the floor and finally decided to unlock her door, and cursed himself for getting sentimental about a simple dream.

Doctor Florence had sent him her medical records now under the proper police protocol, much to her dismay and he was reading it throughly, on a note in the margin she had written "Previously treated by a bawbag" he wondered who her previous physician was that make that educated woman talk, or write, like that.

Her actual diagnosis were Dissociative Amnesia, and General Anxiety Disorders, wich meant she sometimes have fugue states where she could do or say things she would later won't remember and also have panic attacks.

That only gave him more questions than answers but he kept reading. Apparently apart from those separate events the one at the bar and the one at school there was no recollection of other episodes in the last five years, at the time she meet Jonathan, and the lowest point of her condition, as he suspected, had been when her parents died.

There was a long list of medication she had been prescribed since she was 7 years old, among wich highlighted in green was Rohypnol, next to another pencil note "Numpty bastard" and he knew enough about the drug to understand the psychiatrist anger. She had removed every medication when she started treating her with good results until last Saturday, where she was completely absent for about forty minutes, according to her friend Ashley.

He made a mental note to ask her about that incident again since he haven't meet her personally, but that event kept coming back, and maybe there was something else to that night worth following.

He was completely absorbed in his reading that he didn't notice the sun rising on the shore, and only realized it was a new day when a loud noise came from somewhere in the house.

With all his senses in alert he took the gun he kept in a safe in his bottom drawer and walk outside his home office. The living room was empty, and he knocked on his bedroom without and answer, he opened the door and the room was empty with the bed well made.

He rushed to the kitchen and the smell of fresh coffee and fried sausages took him by surprise. She was in front of his stove, wearing the same floral dress from his dream when he get there, and when she turned around for a brief moment he feared she would give him that sad haunted look that had waked him up, but she just had a surprise concerned look, and put the pan with the sausages down, rising her hands defeated.

"I'm sorry, that's a bit excessive isn't it?" She said pointing at his gun, and he embarrassed put it back on his pants.

"I heard a noise" He explained himself nervous "What are you doing?"

"Breakfast, or something like breakfast, you don't have much on your fridge, I mean broadchurch justice system can't survive if you go buy groceries?" She asked, and he didn't respond and only gave her the same look he give Miller when she showed at his house with food "Cups?" She asked and he pointed at a cabinet, although he was sure she already knew where everything was. "Coffee or tea?"

"I'm fine... thank you" he said and she ignored him and served him a cup anyway.

"I didn't poisoned it" she said once two plates were served and he kept staring at her.

"Where did you get those clothes?" He asked finally siting across the table from her.

"In London, it was a gift" She said and he raised an eyebrow "Beth went to my place after they gathered all the evidence and they gave her permission to bring me some clothes, I was getting tired of the donations, but don't tell Paul"

She ate his breakfast and barely look at him, so he did the same, finding completely odd that since Daze left he haven't use the kitchen island to have breakfast, spending most of his time at Miller's place or the Latimer's.

"So what time are we going to the station?" Y/N asked trying to sound casual, but he could note the fear in her voice.

"Miller is coming in a few minutes" he said looking at the clock, 7:45 am "But we are not going to the station"

"But I thought I'll have to get another evaluation" she said with some relief in her voice.

"You do, but since we don't have someone capable at the station, and that it is a very distressing environment we are going to paid a visit to doctor Florence" he said and she nodded, she stand up to pick the dishes. He saw his reflection on the metal napkin holder, and realized he needed to change his clothes so he excuse himself.

"You are not concerned I might runaway?" She asked playful while she opened the kitchen faucet, and he stop cold on his steps. "I'm kidding" she said and he kept walking.

By the time he was out of the shower and properly dressed he was taken by surprise since she was comfortably curled on his couch, reading a book, and an unfamiliar feeling form in his stomach, he coughed to call her attention and she looked guilty and flustered at him.

"Oh I'm sorry, you have a very interesting collection" She said putting the book aside, it was the script from a play Look Back in Anger "John Osborne, quite cynical" she said, and he tried to remind what that one was about.

"My..." he clear his throat "ex wife gave it to me"

"Why she thought you were Jimmy?" She said, and he almost blush remembering that the protagonist abandons and cheats on his wife Allison with her best friend.

"More like Allison" he said after a while.

"Oh that's worse" She said with a grin, and before he could answer with something clever, his mouth had gone dry when he saw her smile, Miller knocked on the door.

"Morning" she said giving a polite nod to Y/N and an inquisitive look at Hardy. "Are we ready sir?"

They walked outside his house with the teacher in the back seat, in almost complete silence, interrupted by Miller and Y/N's comments on the weather. By the time they arrived at the doctor's office it was empty and Alec wondered if she had made that on purpose for them. She greeted them and she looked very carefully at Miller making him anxious, he sited down while she filled the legal formalities before the test.

"Bit of a deja vu" Y/N said, and he didn't understand her "The first time I saw you, I mean you had a sweater not a suit, but I have this dress, so is kind of the same" She smiled and his mind was partially calmed since now he knew why it looked so familiar. "Wish me luck" she said once she passed next to him to get inside the office, he only gave her a nod, and she rolled her eyes at him with a smile.

"She is going to be there a while, have you eat?" Miller said after fifteen minutes.

"Yeah, I had breakfast earlier" He said, not giving much attention.

"Really? When?" She said since it was not his regular behavior.

"At home, Y/N..." Miller eyes went wide and he was not sure of what to say "Miss Y/L/N cooked some sausages and coffee" again that unfamiliar sensation in his stomach.

"That's interesting" She said and he knew she wanted to say something else but he was not in the mood to listen.

The doctor emerged after a while, and talk to them while the woman was still in her office.

"Well, your initial evaluation was more or less accurate" she said, looking at the paper the psychologist of the station had redacted. "She is non violent, and her mental state is basically stable, however yesterday event appears to be induced by the extreme emotional pressure she is enduring"She said and gave them a written report with more or less the same information.

"And? What about the man she said she saw at the bar, or the person driving her fiance's car?" Alec asked, but Miller already had anticipated the doctor's answer.

"There are technics to recover memories" she started calmly "But they are of no use in court for how easily the information can be contaminated with the examiner biases, also she would be in a very vulnerable mental state" she said concerned first and foremost by her patient mental health.

"So you can't do it?" Miller said, knowing now how easily evidence could turn against them in court.

"I can, but I will strongly recommend Miss Y/L/N contact her lawyer first, and have a proper discussion before she decides to do such a thing."

"I'll do it" Her voice surprised them, she was standing in front of the doctor's office. "I don't want a lawyer, so far I don't think I need one, and if I did something bad, I think I need to know, can we do it today?"

"Y/N, this is not an easy procedure, and much of the things you'll see won't be real, you should really think about it" the doctor said concerned, and Ellie thought she was right and was hoping the teacher would listen, maybe with a lawyer present she would no longer had that unsettling feeling about her staying at Hardy's house.

"I have think about it, and you don't know how bad it is to have a piece of your life in complete darkness, I need to know, and the detectives can be in the interrogation, if this brings some light to Jonathan's case, I have to do it" She said, and Hardy tried his best to look away from her.

"Fine, if that is your choice is fine" the doctor said.

"Can she do it today then?" Alec said finally.

"Sure, wait here for a moment and we can do it" she said and call her assistant to get her equipment ready.

Y/N sitted on the waiting room while Hardy looked at Miller with one of those understanding glances they used to share before, she was worried about him being too involved, and he was worried about Y/N's well being, and even when this was a necessary step in the investigation it also was concerning.

Half an hour later Dr. Florence called them in, and the three of them went inside, feeling that something was definitely about to change.

Tag list:

@allonsymexgirl @laciesaito @tf18unipups @dazedkrosupreme @timey-wimey-lovi

[detroitwhatitmeanstobehuman]

Chapter 3 - Similar Minds

Part 3/17 of What it Means to be Human

Word Count: 8526

Warnings: Swearing, mild suggestive banter, implied character death, traumatic car accident related flashback/panic attack.

Genre: Self-insert/Angst

Pairing: OC (Detective Rachel) X Connor

Rating: Mature

Summary: Arriving in Camden, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, Detective Rachel, and Connor began investigating the AX400 case. Rachel is determined to show off her skills and impress Connor. However, things begin to go awry when the AX400 flees from the scene and the pair has to pursue it and the child in its care.

First Chapter | Previous Chapter

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

I think it’s pretty safe to say that I’m not a fan of car rides.

Driving, or at least before self-driving cars became the norm, I was more comfortable with. Hell, I actually really enjoyed car rides before.

But now that I was more acutely and painfully aware of my own mortality? It was like sitting in a tin can of death and impending doom for me. It’s why I always tried to take public transit. Which is strange because for the longest time, I did not trust public transit until I had no choice but to use it.

I watched the first episode of BBC’s Sherlock way back when, and since then, I did not trust public transit, especially taxis.

Granted, it’s not like I panic. I used to. I wasn’t able to ride in cars for a good long while, but after putting in the effort as well as doing the steps to overcome my fear that my psychologist recommended I take, I’m now able to at least tolerate car rides.

Do I like them? No. Do they give me anxiety and perhaps trigger me? Yes. But can I deal with them? Yes, depending on the circumstances. I’m not perfect and I have off days like everyone else.

But I’d like to think I was pretty good at hiding my anxiety. That was until I had both the pleasure and misfortune of being temporarily partnered with Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife, as he introduced himself as. “Are you alright, Rachel?” He asked me. “I’ve detected a large spike in your heart rate as well as a drop in temperature and signs of hyperventilation.” If I had remembered that he could literally do a scan of my vitals and know what’s wrong with me, I would’ve avoided this altogether. I wasn’t exactly a fan of feeling vulnerable in the police environment, but there was something so sincere about Connor’s queries. Which was strange, since he was an android and couldn’t really portray truth or lies differently. But maybe that was why he came off as sincere as he did.

I looked up at him, clutching tightly to my left arm. He was seated in the front beside Hank, since they were the ones that were actually partners and I was just their backup. Although, I knew I was more than that to Hank. As sour as he was, he liked my company, as much as I enjoyed pissing him off. I wasn’t like Gavin, though. I just mildly annoyed people with dumb or lewd jokes or my weird quirks and random thoughts. 

Gavin was, well, an insufferable asshole.

I always had a feeling that Hank had a bit of a soft spot for me, and not in the creepy “old man coming onto a young vulnerable woman” sort of way. I think he recognized that I did some really good work despite my oddities. Hell, he even admitted that I was a better detective than a lot of them on the force (always glaring at Gavin when he said that). If I wasn’t working on a case, he’d get me to tag along on whatever case he was working on. Or he’d recommend the better cases to me, usually the harder ones that he didn’t want to deal with but couldn’t trust the others to take on either.

That last part kind of annoyed me, but the pride I felt after solving them every time sort of kept me from stopping him. Especially if it came with a jealous glare from Gavin. That was sheer nirvana on the spectrum of my “smug bastard” metre.

“Rachel?” 

Connor calling me by name snapped me out of my thoughts. “Oh, sorry. I zoned out.” I quickly apologized, nervously adjusting my short hair and pushing my glasses up my nose. “What was the question?”

“I was just asking if you were alright.” Connor repeated.

“Oh, yeah! I’m fine.” I said, shuffling in my seat, trying somehow not to focus on the outside and inside of the self-driving car at the same time. “I just...don’t like car rides.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. We’ll get there in about a minute.” Hank assured me, glancing back at me with a gruff smile. “And on the way back, you can play your music and tune out.”

I smiled appreciatively. He knew that playing and humming and singing to my music helped me stay calm and relax. “Thanks, Hank.”

The greying man gave me a nod and turned back around, however Connor’s gaze was glued to me. As he stared at me, I stared back at him. It wasn’t really threatening as it was odd, and I wasn’t really sure what he was thinking of. I noticed his LED was spinning yellow for a brief moment before it settled back to its pristine blue hue. “What profession usually shares the best gossip?” He suddenly asked me.

I squinted my eyes at him skeptically. Is this a test? A trick question? I tried to think about what a real answer to his question would be. “Uhhhh, I guess NSA agent?” I answered.

“Landscape development.” I tilted my head at him curiously. Huh? “After all, they’ve got dirt on just about everyone.”

My eyes immediately snapped shut as I took in a deep and sharp inhale and let it back out when I realized that Connor was actually telling me a joke. And a really bad one.

“Ah, Jesus fucking Christ. Not you, too.” Hank complained with a groan.

As much as I wanted to agree with him, I was trying really hard to fight a smile and a laugh as I sort of blinked my eyes at my shoes. As hard as I tried, I could feel the involuntary grin start spreading across my face and the urges of a snicker erupting in my belly. Eventually, I gave in and conceded defeat, bursting into a fit of begrudging giggles. “That was so bad, Connor.”

He seemed to blink in confusion. “You didn’t like it?” I could’ve sworn you saw wounded pride in his deep brown eyes. But not the brazen kind, the kind that made me want to wrap my arms around him and apologize.

“No no! I love it, unfortunately.” I said, still giggling and trying to play it off. “That was so bad, but it was also really clever.”

“I have more, if you’d like to hear them.” Connor offered.

“Please don’t encourage her.” Hank grumbled.

I then gave the android, whom I had already decided was a dork, a confident smirk. “How about I tell you one, first?” I suggested. “And you’re not allowed to look up the answer for it. That’s cheating.”

“Oh Jesus, here we go.” Hank sighed.

“I won’t.” Connor assured me, his facial expression not changing very much, but the corner of his mouth was ever so slightly upturned.

I tried to rack my brain for some of my favourite jokes, and I quickly remembered one that was always fun to tell. “What do you get when you mix a dyslexic, an insomniac, and an agnostic?” I asked him, my right eyebrow raised expectantly, my hands folded in my lap.

Connor paused for a moment before he answered. “I’m not sure.” He replied. “What do you get when you mix a dyslexic, an insomniac, and an agnostic?”

I found it sort of endearing that he repeated the whole question even though he didn’t have to. I put on my biggest and smuggest grin before I delivered the punchline. “Someone who lies awake at two in the morning wondering whether or not there’s a Dog.” I said with a small dramatic gesture of my hands as I leaned back in my seat.

From beside Connor, I heard Hank snicker. I couldn’t hold back my swollen sense of pride. “Okay, fine, that one was pretty clever.”

“See? You like my jokes, Hank.” I pressed insistently.

He scoffed. “Yeah, when they’re good.”

I raised both my eyebrows at him. “So, all of them, then.”

I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Alright, listen here, smartass.” 

But he didn’t really have a response to my joke as I felt the car start slowing down and I realized that I actually forgot about my anxiety for the remainder of the trip. “We’re here.” 

As Hank got out of the car, Connor remained there for a moment. “I thought it was clever, and I enjoyed it. I appreciate your sense of humour.”

Connor then got up after Hank, and I sat there briefly for a moment before getting out of the car to follow them. There was one thought that was swirling in my head at that moment. Did he do that on purpose? To distract me from the car ride?

I pulled my hood up as we approached, as I was not a fan of the rain, but didn’t feel like bringing an umbrella. It wasn’t raining hard enough to need one, I figured. 

I saw a familiar face. Hank’s buddy, Ben Collins. I didn’t know him that well, personally, but we were on a first name basis and in all the interactions I’ve had with him, he was pretty friendly. “Mornin’, Hank.” He greeted, eyeing Connor and then myself. “I see you’ve got that with you.” I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of displeasure. I knew he wasn’t hostile, more just neutral. But it still stung somewhere in me to refer to Connor that way. “And Rachel, your favourite detective.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Ha ha, he asked me to come along and since I had nothing else to do and didn’t wanna miss out on this action, I decided to tag along.” I said coolly.

“Alright, no need to be jumpy. I was just askin’.” Ben said, not trying to start a fight.

I knew he meant nothing by it, but I didn’t want to be known as just “Hank’s favourite.” I had my own merits I was pretty damn proud of.

“She’s one of the best detectives there is in this city, so count yourself lucky I brought her along.” I smiled a brief smile at Hank. It was nice knowing that he always had my back.

“Not denying that, Hank.” Ben replied with a nonchalant shrug.

I folded my arms and regarded him patiently. “So, what have we got, Ben?”

The stocky white-haired man flipped open a notepad and I took mine own to start jotting down notes. “Well, it was seen in the convenience store down that way.” He gestured to the place, and I took note of it. “The cashier said that it was with a young girl and it asked for some cash for a place to spend.”

I looked up at him. “And?” I asked.

“It left, taking the girl with it.” Ben replied.

“So, nothing was taken.” I conjectured.

“Nope.” He affirmed. “It just left.”

I quickly took note of that. “Where else was it seen?”

“The only other place it was seen was the laundromat just over there.” I looked over at it and took note of it. “And hanging around the motel that way.” I looked over in that direction and took another note.

My notepad looked a lot like this:

Model AX400

Took off with a little girl

Belonged to Todd Williams (scumbag, I don’t believe him for a second)

Was seen in the convenience store asking for spare cash, but didn’t take anything

Was also seen in the laundromat and around the motel

Given all this information, I had a pretty clear idea of what happened. But it still wasn’t completely conclusive. Not until I fully immersed myself and started doing what I did best.

“Alright, thanks Ben.” Hank said, turning around to look at the street.

Ben turned in the same direction as I eyed him. “We’ve got officers sweeping the neighbourhood, in case anyone saw anything.”

Hank nodded. “Okay. Well, let me know if they turn anything up.”

Ben looked over across Hank. “What are you gonna do with that?”

I followed his gaze and found Connor idling by away from us. He was sort of just standing there in the rain looking at nothing. It made me sort of chuckle a bit, seeing him just kind of there. “I’ve no idea.” Hank said.

I scoffed. “Why not use him?” I suggested as I started making my way towards the android. “Or, better yet,” I turned around to face Hank with a smug grin, “wait until I do my thing. I wanna see the look on his face.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “I doubt you’ll be able to show him up, but I’d love to see you try.” He agreed. “It’ll at least be interesting whether or not you do.”

“And isn’t that the best kind of rivalry?” I said somewhat jokingly. As fun as it would be to be able to rival a prototype detective android, I did actually want to work with him. I just couldn’t help the smug bastard in me that wanted to impress him.

I approached Connor, noticing him staring off, his LED spinning a pensive yellow. “So, robo-cop.” I started off. “What’cha gettin?”

“It took the first bus that came along,” he started, turning towards me, “and stayed at the end of the line. Its decision wasn’t planned, it was driven by fear.”

I pulled out my notepad and I took note of that. I felt Hank approach behind me, scoffing. “Androids don’t feel fear.” He contested.

“Deviants do.” Connor corrected. “They get overwhelmed by their emotions and make irrational decisions.”

“I wouldn’t call it irrational.” I chimed in. “They may be rash and impulsive, but they’re not irrational. They’re not mindless. They’re still driven by rational thought processes unless under specific circumstances of extreme and persistent abuse of various sorts.” Hank raised a skeptical eyebrow at me. “It’s reasonable to assume. Besides, on the way here, I pulled out my phone and did a search on the AX400 and found an interview with its owner, Todd Williams, on channel 16 news. He claimed that the android attacked him unprovoked, but immediately he struck me as not being truthful. First, I find it extremely hard to believe that it attacked him ‘for no reason.’ No one just does shit like that for no reason, so he’s hiding something. He also didn’t mention anything about having a daughter.”

Hank shrugged. “So?”

“The AX400 model is designed to be a caretaker of the home.” I continued on. “Take care of chores around the house, take care of cleaning, preparing dinner, all of that. That also includes child care. So, the android was already looking after a little girl when it was living with Todd in his home. The fact that he didn’t mention anything about his daughter is really setting off my alarm bells that he shouldn’t be trusted. So, if the android felt that it had to look after the young girl, that also means protecting her. And if it recognized Todd as a threat to her, it stands to reason that it broke through its programming and became deviant in order to protect the girl and save her, escaping Todd and fighting him off.”

Connor’s LED was spinning a frantic yellow. “I don’t understand.” He said, and I could recognize vocal frustration. “What makes you so sure about this conclusion? Conjecture?”

“A very strong gut instinct.” I replied. “And when it’s mattered, mine haven’t been wrong.”

“You can’t make conclusions based on a ‘gut feeling,’ detective.” Connor shook his head, his brows furrowed. “Not without enough evidence to support it.”

I scoffed at him. “You think that humans are less advanced than machines like you just because we call processes and programs things like ‘feelings’ and ‘instincts?’” I challenged him. “The human brain is like a computer, constantly taking in, recalling, collecting, and retaining information. Hell, instincts are just your brain recalling similar scenarios and examples and patterns from several different situations in only a fraction of a second. So when someone has ‘a bad feeling’ about someone, it’s not just an irrational feeling. It’s their brain analyzing a bunch of different patterns they’ve seen or experienced and telling that person that ‘this person fits this pattern, do not trust them.’ 

“And that’s the feeling I get about Todd.” I let out a sigh. “Because he’s not the first ‘Todd’ I’ve had to meet, unfortunately. And people like him aren’t particularly original. And humans are very good at detecting when something is wrong with something or someone. And as much as I wish more cops were more unbiased and logical like you are, I’m gonna go with Occam’s Razor on this one.”

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Hank shut it down. He knew I had a tendency to ramble on, and tended to stop me before I got too carried away. On the one hand, I really didn’t like being interrupted like that, especially because I knew I was going to forget that tangent later. But on the other, it was nice having someone who could keep you on-track. “That still doesn’t tell us where it went.”

“It didn’t have a plan. And it had nowhere to go.” Connor said, his LED returning to a calm blue. “Maybe it didn’t go far.”

“Maybe.” Hank agreed.

“Well, you said that it got off at a bus stop at the end of the line.” I reminded Connor. “Which one would that be?”

He pointed at it, across the street. “That one over there.”

I nodded and closed my notebook. “Then that’s where we start.” I began making my way over, Hank and Connor following closely.

As I approached the bus stop across the street, I sat down and let out a long sigh. I closed my eyes and placed my hands on either side of my face. On each hand, my index and middle fingers were situated on my forehead just above my eyebrows while the other two were folded, and my thumbs were pressing into my cheeks. I was taking a few deep breaths, trying to clear my mind and get into the right frame.

“What is she doing, Lieutenant?” I heard Connor whisper.

“You don’t have to whisper, I’m right here.” I said, not with hostility. “And I’m just getting into the zone.”

Connor paused for a moment. “To do what?” I could practically see his LED flickering yellow in my mind as I pictured him.

“You’ll understand in a moment.” I assured him. Hank and Connor were both silent as I found my centre. And after a few moments, I got up from my seat, clasped my hands behind my back and opened my eyes. “Alright, I’m a deviant android who has just escaped the home of an unstable and dangerous man who has proven himself to be a serious threat to his daughter, the child whom I was tasked to look after and whose safety is now my top priority.” I said, all the information we’ve gathered clear and at the forefront of my consciousness. “We’ve reached the end of the line, and now we have nowhere to go. It’s late, it’s raining, and - Connor, what was the temperature last night?”

“2° Celsius.” He responded immediately.

I turned to him. “You used Celsius instead of Farenheit, I’m surprised.”

“You’ve lived on the Canadian west coast for most of your life.” Connor said bluntly. “I figured you’d prefer it that way.”

“Well, you figured correctly.” I agreed. “Imperial is stupid and dumb and makes no sense. Imperial is for losers.”

“Hey!” Hank protested. I raised my eyebrow quizzically at him. He then shuffled in place before he shrugged. “Whatever.”

Getting back into my mindspace, I took another breath. “Anyways, it’s late, it’s cold, and it’s raining. I have a child with me who is very susceptible to the elements, and traveling any further from this street would be unwise, so my priority is find a place to spend the night that’s warm, sheltered, safe, and/or comfortable. So, I take the little girl’s hand and I start walking, walking, walking, walking,” I repeated going down the street and looking around, “walking, and walking until I see a motel across the street. A motel would be ideal for the girl. It’s comfortable, safe, warm, and dry, and sheltered. However, it is not discreet and we could potentially be discovered or turned in by the staff. I start crossing the street so I can get a closer look and I can evaluate my options. And as I get closer, I also notice the convenience store further ahead, so potentially I could get money or supplies since given the panic and desperation a few hours ago, it can be reasonably assumed we left with nothing but the clothes on our backs. 

“And as I approach the motel, I see that you need $40 up-front and that androids weren’t allowed in. Seeing as I have no money and I can be very easily identified as an android because,” I then turned to Connor who was following close behind me, “correct me if I’m wrong, but all working androids are required to wear something similar to what you’re wearing to be easily recognizable, correct?”

“Correct.” He said with a nod. “It’s in accordance with the American Androids Act of 2029 that all androids must be clearly identified and distinguishable from humans.”

I got back on track. “Right, troubling implications of that aside, I would need money and a change of clothes, both things I do not have. So, I disregard the motel for now and go into the convenience store. Now, we know for a fact that the android did not take anything from the store, and I do not think that there is another realistically feasible way to scrounge up $40 for a room, so I think it’s safe to say that we can eliminate the motel from our potential hiding places.”

“What about the laundromat?” Hank asked. Connor was uncharacteristically quiet. “It may not have taken money, but it could’ve stolen some clothes.”

“In terms of whether or not we stayed in the motel, that doesn’t matter if we don’t have the money for a room.” I pointed out. “Stealing clothes could both be to disguise the android and keep the little girl warm and dry. Stealing money would only help with getting a motel room. So while the laundromat is a considering factor, it is not a determining factor. So, because we know that it did not steal from the convenience store, we can rule out the motel.”

Hank nodded. “Makes sense.” He agreed. “So what does that leave us with, then?”

“Working on that.” I assured him. I took another deep breath and resumed my role. “Okay, so motel is off the table. So, what other options do I potentially have? So, I cross the street again. And I’m walking, and walking, and walking, and walking, and I see a parking lot!” I pointed at the sign that said “parking.” I continued. “So, I go to check it out.” 

I made my way towards it and peaked in. There was a car inside, but it looked abandoned. I opened the gate and stepped inside, getting a better look at the place. My gaze was fixed on the car. “I notice that the car is abandoned. It would safe, more comfortable than would honestly be expected, but not ideal, warm, and sheltered. But, it’s kind of open and exposed.” I glanced behind me at the gaps in the tarps surrounding the chain link fencing. “And the car has not been touched. Nothing. If they were here, they didn’t stay. So, what’s the next option?” 

I turned around and saw the towering abandoned structure just on the other side of the inner fence. “A creepy, decrepit, abandoned house to squat in. Definitely not ideal. It’s sheltered, and it’s definitely hidden. Nobody would look for us in there. But I’m not sure if it would be safe or warm or comfortable. But, seeing as they didn’t stay in the motel and they clearly left the car undisturbed, looks like by process of elimination, we’re left with,” I groaned in defeated disappointment. “The creepy, decrepit, abandoned house. Great, one of every woman’s worst fucking nightmares.”

Hank nodded, standing beside me. “Well, that all makes sense to me.”

“There’s blue blood on the fence. Another android was definitely here.” I snapped my head in his direction. “That was incredible!” Connor exclaimed, to my complete surprise. Damn, that’s some high praise! But he then did something that was unexpected, but honestly, it was fucking adorable. He pretended to straighten his tie and cleared his throat as if he were embarrassed. And if I didn’t know him any better, I’d say he was. “Very impressive, Rachel.”

I smiled wide and beaming, soaking up the android’s praise. “Why thank you, Connor. That is quite the compliment, coming from you.”

“Your mental process as you were analyzing the different outcomes and evidence and possibilities piecing together the previous night,” he went on. “It seems to be a lot like reconstruction.”

I tilted my head at him, intrigued. “Reconstruction?” I echoed.

He nodded. “It’s one of my programs. By analyzing evidence and samples and compiling them, I’m able to create a theoretical reconstruction of the scenario that I can play back that can show more literally to me what took place.”

“Oh!” I said, taking in his explanation. “Interesting!”

“I am curious, though.” He interjected. “Why did you say all of your thoughts out loud like that? Is it necessary?”

“Well, it’d be pretty weird if I just walked off without saying anything, now wouldn’t it?” I said with a scoff. “But it also helps me remain focused and on-track. See, in my head, I’m holding so many ideas, clusters, thoughts, and pieces all at once. So, depending on the circumstances and the subject, information and details tend to get lost very easily. Saying it all out loud means I have to think about and focus on what I’m saying, which helps it stick. It keeps me in a rhythm and when I say my thoughts out loud, it helps me not only process it, but retain it. Because otherwise, I can potentially forget important details as soon as I turn around, as I know I often tend to do.”

Connor nodded, seeming to understand. “Ah, I see.”

“If you two are done sucking each other off, we have a deviant to find and a case to solve.” Hank interrupted.

I groaned at him. “Did you have to phrase it like that?” I asked.

“If it means you’ll stop talking, yeah.” Hank responded.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, point taken.” I conceded. “Let’s go into the creepy home that definitely won’t house my impending doom.”

Connor approached the fencing and looked up at the house. “Anybody home?” He called. He got no response, so he quickly knelt down and crawled through the fencing on the bottom, which I realized had been cut with fence cutters.

I grimaced up at the house. “Why did it have to be a creepy house straight out of a horror movie?” I complained.

Hank scoffed at me. “Well, if you don’t like it, you can just stay out here and I’ll go in after him.”

I did not like that idea. “Oh, Hell no! That’s worse!” I refused. “How about you stay here and I go in with Connor?”

I didn’t even wait for an answer from Hank before I crawled through the fencing on the bottom. “Well, that was easy.”

I glared at him from behind me. “Oh, shut up, Hank.”

“Yeah, speak for yourself.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Now hurry up, he’s already way ahead of you.”

Taking up a brisk pace, I quickly caught up with Connor, who quickly regarded me with confusion. “This could be dangerous.” He said. “You should’ve stayed behind with Lieutenant Anderson.”

I looked up into his eyes. “I didn’t like the idea of you going in alone, and I also didn’t like the idea of being by myself.” I answered. “At least this way, we can watch each other’s backs.”

Connor nodded, seeming to accept my justification. Dutifully, I followed in behind him, acutely aware of the gun in my holster. He seemed to be rounding the perimeter of the house before he found boards he could peek through. I sneakily peeked in from the corner and found what looked like a person just standing in the middle of the room. I didn’t get a good enough look at them, but I felt my gut tighten and my jaw clench. Connor, however, remained calm as usual, and walked on ahead whilst I followed him. Across from the boards was a green door with a silver knob. I saw that it had a little paw print on it, and I thought it was cute. This must’ve been a pretty nice place before it fell in shambles. I thought, briefly.

Connor wrapped his hand around the knob and twisted it, and the door gave way without much resistance. Connor and I stepped through and the green door closed behind us under its own weight.

When I saw him in the middle of the room, I felt my heart stop and my blood turn to ice. “Oh my God...” I whispered. He was unmistakably an android, but the left side of his face had been torn and his hands were weathered and he looked as though he was wearing only what he could manage to scrounge out of the garbage. Upon seeing his face, I instinctively grabbed my left arm. He was twitching uncontrollably, out of fear, no doubt. It took all of my will to keep my eyes from watering at the horrid sight.

Connor approached the disfigured android slowly. In a quiet voice, Connor began speaking to him. “Don’t be afraid.” He reassured the android, as he began making his way around the room, inspecting it. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes from the android, and I was quickly failing to keep my tears from welling. “What happened to you?” I asked in a hushed whisper. “Who did this to you?”

The android looked up at me and locked eyes with me, and I noticed that the eye on his left where his wounds were was damaged and had gone dark blue. “Humans.” He responded quickly. “Humans...” He answered. “Humans hurt Ralph...humans did this to Ralph.”

I felt my heart break into a million pieces and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. “I’m so sorry.” I said, quickly wiping away the tears from my eyes and taking a moist breath in through my nose as I tried to recompose myself.

Connor took notice of me as he continued to search, and I felt a twinge of embarrassment. “I’m looking for an AX400. Have you seen it?” He asked.

“Ralph’s seen nobody...” The android replied hastily. 

Connor continued analyzing various details of the room. “Are there any other androids here?” He asked.

“Other androids?” Ralph asked, looking up at Connor before looking back down at the ground. “No...Ralph is alone...”

Anytime he spoke, I just felt my heart break even more. I looked away and started to walk towards the stairs. “There’s blue blood on the fence.” Connor pointed out. “I know another android was here.”

“Ralph scratched himself coming through...” He answered immediately. “That’s Ralph’s blood...”

But as I approached the stairs, I noticed an odd, but unmistakable smell. Another aspect of my atypicalities was that aside from my eyesight, my senses were particularly sensitive. Although, I also had auditory processing issues and was hard of hearing, so my hearing was not always reliable.

But one of those senses was my sense of smell. I could pick up smells very easily and a lot quicker than other people could. Particular smells also tended to trigger sensory overload or just generally set me off. It’s one of the reasons I can’t fucking stand chewing gum in any capacity. 

But this was a smell I’d experienced enough times to know it when I smelled it. And it was not pleasant. It was the smell of a human cadaver. At least a week old, it had to be. But from what I could tell, it was not on this floor with us. It smelled like it was coming from up the stairs

Connor noticed my attention on the stairs and walked towards me. My eyes kept going to Ralph and the scars on his face, and I could hardly find it in myself to blame him. After what he’d been through, what reason did he have to not lash out out of fear? What reason did he have not to think that any human would just hurt him more? Humans probably would hurt him again or did. And as much as I was not comfortable with the fact that Ralph was probably a murderer, I didn’t want him destroyed. I wanted him helped, and I wanted him not to have suffered through what he had suffered to make him this way. He didn’t deserve this. I thought, with a fury flowing through my veins. None of them do.

As Connor was slowly going up the stairs, I noticed movement in the corner of my eye. When my eyes found it, I realized what was happening. Below the stairs was the barest movement of a crouching shape. The AX400 and the girl were hiding down there below the stairs. And Ralph was protecting them.

“Is anyone upstairs?” Connor asked, already up half the flight and peering up to the second floor.

“No.” Ralph replied. “Nobody.”

Connor looked over at Ralph, his gaze lingering for a moment on the disfigured android. But then his gaze locked onto me. I knew he was no fool. He knew I noticed something was amiss and he took that as his cue to investigate. Either the smell wasn’t strong enough for Connor to notice, or he just couldn’t smell at all. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if androids could smell. 

I had a choice to make. If I gave Connor the idea that there was something up there to investigate, he would arrest Ralph and have him destroyed. Which, perhaps he did deserve. But I didn’t feel like it was my right to decide his fate. Not when we had something else more important to deal with at the moment.

Deciding to keep Ralph’s secret, I shook my head at Connor, telling him that there was nothing upstairs.

Connor’s yellow LED spun back to blue as he quickly made his way back onto the ground floor.

The android detective was making his way to check where I saw the fugitives hiding. I felt my heart start beating faster, until I heard Hank’s voice from behind us. “Connor, Rachel, what the hell are you doin’ in there?!”

“Coming, Lieutenant!” Connor called, kneeling down.

As soon as he did, Ralph wrapped his arms around Connor faster than I could react and I pulled my gun on him. “RUN! QUICK! KARA!” Ralph was yanking Connor backwards, and I quickly realized he wasn’t trying to hurt him.

He was allowing the others space to get away. From under the stairs, two people burst out and bolted around through the door on the left of the room, and Hank quickly came in the way we did as Ralph threw Connor onto the ground weakly.

The moment Hank entered the room, I saw my chance and took it, giving chase after them. From behind me, I heard Connor shouting. “It’s here! Call it in!”

I didn’t slow down for a moment as I was laser focused on catching up to Kara and the girl before Connor got to them. I didn’t want them dead, but I’d rather be the first to reach them than anyone else. 

I rushed past an officer in pursuit, the pair still in my sights. It didn’t take much to keep pace with them. They were within arm’s length, but I obviously wasn’t going to just grab them. “Wait!” I cried.

But they didn’t stop. They kept running. I couldn’t blame them. When I almost had them in my reach, they quickly turned a sharp corner into an alley. When they reached a fence blocking their path, I pulled my gun on them. “Freeze! Don’t move or I’ll shoot!” A complete fucking lie, but I couldn’t let them leave.

They both turned around slowly, their hands in the air. As I approached them, stepping closer, I took notice of what the android looked like. Her hair was short and blonde. It looked as though it had just been cut. But most remarkably, I noticed her LED.

Or lack thereof. She didn’t have one. Which means she must have removed it. And without it, along with her human clothes, she looked nearly indistinguishable from a human.

The android known as Kara began to speak directly to me. “You care about androids, I know you do! I saw it! When you looked at Ralph! When you talked to him!” She pleaded. “We can’t stay here, you have to let us go!”

I wanted to. So badly, I wanted to let them be free and run away. But...I had to know the truth. “What happened between you and Todd?” I asked her. “Why did you run away?”

“He was going to hurt Alice!” Kara answered without any hesitation. So, Alice is her name. “She was in danger. I couldn’t let him hurt her. I had no choice! I had to protect her!”

As if being pulled down by a weight, my arms began lowering. “I knew it.” I said, more to myself than them, but they heard it anyways. “I was right.”

But a familiar voice quickly divided my attention. “Don’t shoot, Rachel!” Connor’s voice echoed from behind me. “We need it alive!”

Taking this opportunity, I mouthed one thing to them. Run! I then turned to Connor and glared at him. “Oh, wow! Thank you Captain Obvious!” I started, chewing him out. “It’s not like anyone in their right mind could tell that the android who’s responsible for the life of a young child needed to be kept alive!”

“They’re getting away!” Connor cried as he rushed past me. 

Looking back to the fence, I felt relief that they were already pretty much over the fence and out of our reach. I quickly put the gun back into my holster and rushed to join Connor at the fence.

Kara locked eyes with Connor and then myself before she and Alice slid down the muddy slope. But then I looked ahead of them and I realized what they were facing.

The highway. They were going to cross the highway.

Immediately, I felt the worst kind of lightning pierce my veins. My heart was pounding out of my chest and I felt like I was choking on air itself. Feelings of helplessness, pressure on my chest and head, and sensations like shards in my skin began overwhelming my senses.

But there was only one thing going through my mind.

I couldn’t let them cross.

I grabbed the fence and started to climb up it, but I suddenly felt hands clutching onto my wrist and pulling me back down. “What are you doing?” Connor asked.

“They’re not gonna make it across the highway!” I cried, trying to scramble up the fence, but Connor kept holding me and then pulling me down with impossible strength. “If I don’t save them, they won’t make it! I can’t let them die out there!”

“If you go after them, there’s almost no chance of you succeeding!” Connor said, holding me down. “If you die on that road, there’s no coming back for you! Don’t you understand, Rachel?!”

“I don’t care!” I practically screamed, trying to fight my way out of his grip, feeling my breath grow rapid and frantic. “I can’t let them die out there! I can’t let them die!”

“I can’t let you take that risk!” Connor insisted, grabbing my face and forcing me to stare at him. “If you die, you don’t get a second chance. Do you hear me?”

“Don’t you dare, Rachel!” Hank’s husky voice called from behind us. He sauntered up and leaned against the fence, catching his breath. “Oh, fuck...that’s insane.”

He let go of me, and I couldn’t control the streams of tears that poured down my face as my limbs began to tremble violently. I hated that he was right, but every fibre of my body was screaming at me to stop them before it was too late. The sounds of the cars were practically deafening even though they were so far away, and the sounds of sirens only made it worse.

Suddenly, I felt Connor shift, and looked over to see Hank yanking him down. “Hey! Where you goin’?”

“I can’t let them get away!” Connor retorted.

I stared at Connor straight in the face. “Don’t you fucking dare!” I practically screamed at him.

“They won’t.” Hank said. “They’ll never make it to the other side.”

“I can’t take that chance!” This time, both Hank and I had to pull Connor down to stop him from jumping the fence.

“Hey, you will get yourself killed!” Hank shouted at him. “Do NOT go after ‘em, Connor. That’s an order!”

But Connor didn’t listen, and I felt my heart constrict so tightly I could hear my rapid heartbeat in my ears and pounding in my head. “CONNOR! God damn it!” Hank growled as Connor slipped out of our grasps and jumped the fence.

As I watched Connor slide down the slope, I lost all control. “IF YOU DIE OUT THERE, I SWEAR I WILL DRAG YOUR ASS BACK HERE AND KILL YOU AGAIN MYSELF, GOD DAMN IT!” I screeched at full volume.

But as soon as I did that, I collapsed against the fence, and as I saw Kara and Alice desperately dodge the oncoming vehicles, I completely shut down.

Images of being trapped in a flipped car at night began racing through my head. I couldn’t bear to watch anymore. I slumped against the fence, my back to the highway, and I started rocking back and forth involuntarily mumbling incomprehensibly as horrible bloody memories began to thump and pound and bang on my brain and every nerve and vein in my body felt like it was doing to burst. Numbness in my left arm. Shards of glass embedded in my skin everywhere. Horrible pain in my whole body. The feeling of the rough pavement as I managed to crawl out of the flipped vehicle. The sounds of sirens and the flashing of red and blue emergency lights. A slumped figure against the pavement as I tried desperately to reach out and call for them.

Only to reach them, hold them, and watch my whole life slip from my fingers, my heart and soul dying with the light in their eyes as I clutched onto them, screaming and desperately willing them to come back to me. For all of this to be a horrible nightmare. That I would wake up in a second and I could confide in the love of my life about what I dreamed about that night in their arms as we slept.

Only to be pulled away and be forced under as I watched everything fall apart around me.

“Rachel!” I heard a voice breaking through my visions. “Rachel, it’s okay! I’m right here, just breathe!” I recognized that it was Hank’s voice, and I felt him clutching at my arms. I snapped my eyes open as the horrible echoes of my visions swirled in my tired and wounded head. “Breathe, kiddo. It’s okay. They made it. You don’t have to worry about them.”

They did? I thought. So it was all a bad dream? But then I realized what Hank meant, and I was quickly dragged back to reality. Oh. Right. Kara, Alice, and Connor. 

Forcing myself to breathe deeply, the sounds and visions started to dull. “That’s it, kiddo. That’s it. Just breathe.” Hank said softly, gently holding onto me and kneeling in front of me. “I’ve got you, it’s gonna be alright. Just look at me, listen to me, and just breathe.”

I did as he asked, and I started to remember my surroundings and why I was here. The case. This morning. The street. The house. The chase. As I kept breathing, my muscles began to relax, and I realized that I was clutching my left arm really tightly, and let go, putting both my hands on the ground on either side of me. My heart was still racing and my eyes felt sore, but I was beginning to come back from that horrible low place. I swallowed and I knew my voice had become hoarse. “There you go, kiddo.” Hank said, gently shaking me. I gently grabbed his arms with my hands and looked him in the eyes. “It’s okay, everything’s fine. Connor’s coming back right now. No one died. Everyone made it.”

Connor. His name repeated in my head. That’s right. Connor. My brows furrowed in complete anger. That fucking asshole!

“Looks like you’ve caught your breath, now.” Hank said, reassuring me. “Can you stand up?”

Letting out a long sigh, I nodded. “Yeah...I think so.” I croaked.

Without waiting, Hank hooked an arm around my back under my arms and started helping me to my feet. As soon as I was standing, he pulled me aside so I was leaning against the corner between the alley wall and the fence. I clutched my chest, taking in several deep breaths. My heartbeat had slowed, but it was still beating so fast.

As soon as Connor climbed back over the fence, my attention was completely focused on him. Unbridled rage began to boil in my veins as I glared at this selfish plastic moron. “You!” I snarled, lacing my broken voice with as much venom as I could bring myself to inject. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU COULD HAVE DIED OUT THERE!”

Connor looked taken aback for a brief moment, but for the most part, his face was relatively reserved. “I couldn’t let them -”

“Quiet!” I shouted, shoving him harshly. “Watching ONE person die in a road accident was one too many! I don’t want you adding to that list just because you wanna recklessly and selfishly risk your own life without any regard for anyone else!”

“If I get destroyed, my memory will simply be transferred to the next-”

“I DON’T CARE!” I shouted at him. Everything went quiet as I stared at him. But I felt so tired, and exhausted, and broken that I couldn’t keep up the tough love act for long and broke into quiet sobs.

Hank gently grabbed my shoulders, angling me away from Connor. Nothing was said for a long long moment. If not for what just preceded this, I would’ve considered this a moment of respite.

“I’m sorry.” Connor said, softly and meekly.

Taking a few breaths between my weak and stifled sobs, I turned to face him, but did not walk towards him. “The important thing...is that no one died today...that everyone made it.” I managed to get out between breaths and sobs.

Hank started gently walking me out of the alley. “Let’s just head back to the car.” He suggested. “We did what we could. There’s nothing more for us to do, here.”

I nodded, leaning on Hank, occasionally stealing a glance back at Connor. Even after yelling at him, I couldn’t help but feel a sharp stab of guilt when he looked at me like that. Like a wounded puppy.

We eventually made our way to the car, and I was able to walk without Hank supporting me. “You wanna sit in the front this time, Rachel?” He asked me.

I looked at him and gave him a weak smile, but it was as much of one as I could muster. “That would be nice.” I answered quietly.

“Yeah, just go on in and have a seat. I’ll just let Ben know what happened.” Hank assured me, giving me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He walked off to find his colleague, and Connor came up behind me. He didn’t really say anything, and we just sort of looked at each other for a long moment before I opened the door and sat in the passenger’s seat.

As soon as I closed the door, I let out a long sigh and wiped my eyes. I leaned back into my chair and felt my eyes well up again. I wasn’t going to fall apart again, but I clearly wasn’t done feeling all the horrible things. “Fuck...” I breathed as I slumped into my chair.

I felt Connor lean forward and I knew he was going to try to talk to me. Despite my outburst earlier, I didn’t hate him. Hell, I chewed him out because I was so scared I was going to watch him die because of his own stupid reckless bullshit. But...I definitely did not have the energy or patience to talk to him right now. “I’m sorry.” He said, and I hated the twinge I felt because he sounded so sincere. “I should’ve considered how you and Hank would feel if -”

I couldn’t do it. “Connor, I don’t wanna talk right now!” I cut him off. He snapped his mouth shut and gave me that injured puppy dog look again. I let out another sigh as I sunk further and further into my seat. “Just...please. Not right now. Maybe later, but...just let me wind down, please.” I begged him.

I couldn’t even look at him in the rear view window. I couldn’t bear to see his dark eyes boring into my soul. He was quiet for a good while until he spoke up. “Alright.” He agreed. “I’m sorry.”

I closed my eyes and let out another breath through my nose. As soon as I heard the driver’s side door open, I knew Hank was back. “Sorry it took so long.” He apologized. I quickly fastened my seatbelt as he started the car. “You can put on whatever tunes you want and just relax the whole way back, okay?”

I looked weakly up at Hank. “Thank you.” Was all I could muster. I pulled out my phone and connected it to his radio, scrolling through my playlists. I thought of playing an album full of easy-listening piano songs, but I decided that would be too quiet and sombre for a fifteen minute car ride. So instead, I scrolled to my usual ‘happy music’ that I played when I needed a good auditory pick-me-up. I put on an old Owl City album and let it play. As Hank started the car, it began driving, and very quickly, I managed to drift off to sleep, hoping to get at least some rest before the day was over.

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

Next Chapter

[floraone]

I don't know if you're still doing it but for the fanfic asks: 24, 30, 41 :)

Hahaha, of course, dear anon!

24) How do you feel aboutwriting smutty scenes?

They are the hardest thing to write. They have the specific movements and rhythm that gotta make sense, like battle scenes. They have the emotive background like any tragic scene. And in addition to that, they need to still be sexy - to others who are not in my head and don’t share my own experiences and likes! So, they are hard. ANd yet, I LOVE to write them. I mean, it’s no secret I love them, and I feel somewhat confident with them. That being said though, there are two things about them that is very tricky for me:

One, it’s not a secret that I am somewhat of a “sexpert”. I am a (clinical) psychologist who specializes the biggest bulk of her research in sexual aggression (but especially, the prevention of it! And, turns out, really throrough sex education and a language and environment that teaches the enjoyment of sex for women is one of the best prevention of victimization there is!), AND, I have an additional degree in sexual medicine from even before that!. You know, plus, the fact that in people’s wellbeing in general, sex plays a huge role! So, a lot of my work is forcused on sex. And problems around sex and how to solve them. So, this brings me in the position where I know exactly the impact that depictions of sex online (and yes, fanfiction depictions of sex!) can have on young readers, and I wanna do it justice! So that means, my own standards for it are incredibly high - and THAT makes me nervous about it, not the actual sex.

Two, smut scenes are the only thing about writing where I encounter a language barrier - although I guess, it’s much more a cultural barrier. I have all the words, but often slightly off connotations for them. Because I grew up in an environment that is, in general, much, much more liberal about sex than that of most of my readers’, AND I’m very desensitized due to my field of work - sexual terms (and y’know, even just the NAMES and nicknames of genitalia - like vagina or penis or vulva, or even cock and dick) are neither unsexy nor vulgar nor too scientific for me, but extremely normal and without connotation. And that goes for most terms around sex! So, this brings me to a point where I tend to avoid writing descriptors at all costs - because the terms I would use have the wrong connotations, and the terms that the english language invented to skirt around the topic sound so extremely silly to me that I couldn’t write them with a straight face. And then there is the fact that some things about sex are simply differently connotated in general from my perspective of writing - sex being somewhat messy, slick, oozy, a little bit disgusting - that is sexy to me, and where I come from. Because it’s not perfect. Because it’s real and honest and what our bodies do when they lose control. But it’s not the hyper-polished glossy image we have in the general western society that’s deemed universally “sexy” - that clean, hairless, smooth image of bedroom eyes and come hither stares from far away on photoshopped, idealized bodies, instead of sweaty, grunting bodies that jiggle and make poppy noises when they come together as we bite our lips and grunt and sigh and come undone with everything slick and messy between us. So, it’s a fine, fine line - not giving in to what I don’t believe in or stand behind, and at the same time still managing to make it sexy for a general audience?

30) In contrast to 29 isthere a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Haha, well, I wouldn’t eyeroll at it, instead I’m just really baffled! The one story I wrote that has the most reviews-per-chapter and that gets almost ridiculous amounts of views is the one I half expected to have NO reviews at all.

I’m talking about Please? - my one PWP. That I wrote just to test it out, see if I could. Like…. the Lemon Tree series? That one I’m writing for it to have meaning - it doesn’t have the most elaborate storylines by far, and is also mostly just sex, but, it’s supposed to mean something, address certain issues and resolve them. Please? on the otherhand? Not at all. That was just… seeing if I can write a stereotypical sex fantasy that is sexy and play with the male dominance trope in a way that runs a border but doesn’t cross it. It’s PWP, nothing more. It was a test. It’s a smutty oneshot - the recipe for NO reviews and loads of hits, and yet it’s among my most reviewed stories (definitely my most-reviewed and most-read one-shot)  and I have. no. idea. why.

41) What’s your favouriteminor character you’ve written?

In GENERAL: UNAZUKI! I love her. I LOVE HER. And I LOVE to write her.  I mean…

Boy-crazy, coming-home-late-at-night, blushing, sweet, snarky, amazing Unazuki. The girl with the gossip and OMG DID YOU JUST-eyes and I sneak her into my stories as much as possible and I am happy whenever I see her in fic.

In not so general, I love what I did with Tomoe/Germatoid in Yugen, lol.

Thank you for the ask!

[peachymess]

Hey, just dropping by to ask how life has been lately -- how are you holding up? It seems like you've been kinda better nowadays but I wanna make sure. So how have you been? Is there anything special you wanna talk about, whether it's good or not?

You know... anon. This is probably one of the more heartwarming asks I’ve gotten in a while. Unprovoked, earnest want to hear how the person behind the blog - past SNK - is doing. Like a request to hear more of the “personal” tagged posts I make. That’s just so touching to me. I have the feeling that people who are interested in me, are so at least partially because I have a connection to SNK; that if I dropped out of the fandom, I’d be an instant unfollow (not that there’s anything wrong with that - but there’s something special about feeling like someone cares past their own interests - “forget about SNK, I just wanna hear how you’re doing” JPHA anyone?) So thank you. When I saw this yesterday, I had the instant thought that it was probably from my best friend, and the only reason I cast that idea aside, is because he could just ask me on messenger haha. Anyways! Anon, I will tell you how I’ve been doing! Someone asks me “how are you”, and I’m just jumping right in and replying honestly, haha! (Under the cut, because this will be long; life updates are usually long, ya know)↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓

You’re right, I’m really good! This time, last year, I had just made a suicide pact with myself; I was so exhausted I was done fighting for myself. I said “someone’s gotta help me. But if nobody does, or nothing has changed within the time SNK is over, I’m calling it quits and offing myself”. And I meant it. I’ve had so many hard periods like that, and I’m running out of lives. I thought “next time will be game over”. That pact does NOT still stand. But it did for the better part of 2017. I can’t remember when it changed. Oh, wait, I do: the moment I gave myself the out, I felt so much relief washing over me. Not having to worry about the pathetic failure future I had ahead of me, not having to worry about the education I was too sick to complete, having to acquire a house without the means somehow... All worries about the future were lifted off me. And I had an out. It probably sounds really strange, but as soon as I’d decided to die (unless life worked itself out, aka win-win/good life - escape from bad life), life felt more bearable. I was still having a bad depressive period, so I was still not good, but I guess the pact nullified all the stress and anxiety connected to the future. When I accepted having none at all, anything else started feeling like a pluss once I decided not to die after all. The problem with “someone else has to fight for me”, though, is that apart from my parents (who can’t really do much since this is internal and they aren’t professionals - although boy did they try, bless) nobody did. I mean, I have you guys to love me, but in my every day life, who could fix me? Coincidentally, in this very same time frame, I was suddenly rejected further help from the mental health organ and I just... had no choice but to fight harder than ever just to get the amount of help I’d gotten before. It’s a big messy ordeal that took almost a year to fix. Complaints to file, waiting, more waiting, more stops to visit, etc... Basically, my notion of “being too exhausted to lift another finger for myself” was tested, and thanks to pure outrage, I was able to fight to win my right to help back. I’ve talked about it before so I won’t repeat that stuff. But the fact is, once the heaviest darkness lifted (I have recurring depression, so it just comes and goes in waves) towards the end of 2017, I carried with me an exercised ability to fight that I didn’t have going into the year. And at some point,... I don’t know how, but I was just so strongly set on fighting, fighting, fighting. I think about Armin and how he never stopped moving. He had his moments of weakness, where he thought he had no more to give, but at the end of the day, he’d be further along than when the sun rose. And I was doing the same. Because my roomie was moving at the start of 2018, I had to start thinking of how to move forward as well. I’d grown complacent in the apartment we rented together, but with him, it was too comfortable just to stay in that place mentally and in life. Just in time, I had a rude awakening to the fact that I also depended too much on other people. They were my pillars, and if they crumbled, I didn’t hold on my own. *sigh* Basically, I learned a lot in 2017, and grew a lot. At the very end - thankfully after the depression was over - I had to do a sudden crash course in how to find my own legs to stand on again, and how to close off my heart so it wasn’t so vulnerable. I went through the ice king stage of thinking I’d never let myself care about anyone else again, but I’ve found a good middle ground where I’m able to care about others but also not needing them to care about me back. This is all a long story that I don’t care to tell because it’s trivial, but also still affects me actually. But I grew a lot on it, so I’m thankful for the experience.

The TL;DR of 2017 is that after deciding I was too exhausted to fight anymore, fate forced me to fight harder than ever, and I learned a lot thanks to perfectly timed challenges, ultimately allowing me to enter 2018 a stronger person. The turning point was still the 7th of December: my tattoo. It’s of Armin’s name, for those that didn’t know (I posted it here so just search “tattoo” on my blog if you wanna see). I’d wanted to tattoo his name on my arm for quite some time, but I was scared. Because I knew that if I had his name on my arm, I could never dishonor him by killing myself. Having the tattoo would thus be my official declaration of giving up suicide as an option (ever!). Now, that’s a scary thought to someone who lives off the relief that having an opt out gives... But as time went on, and the warrior spirit had found a home in my heart, I slowly turned from fearing it, to needing it. Eventually, I called my dad and basically said “I need an appointment asap”, and he hooked me up with his tattoo artist friend. The idea came to me when I realized that despite any kind of depression, whenever I thought about Armin, any other feeling would be forgotten for a moment, as I was reminded of the love I feel for him, the motivation he gives me, and so many more good feelings. Thinking about him basically causes an explosion of warm complex joy within my chest. It spreads through my body and I always smile. So my thesis was that if I tattooed his name on my arm, and I hold my phone in my hand 24/7, I’d see his name all throughout the day, every day, and thus my depression would be repelled by this overwrite happiness all! the! time! And, anon? Thesis turned law; it works! It’s gonna be 4 months since the tattoo now, and I’ve only felt suicidal 3 days since then - and although I cal tell my body is ready to head into another depressive period, I’e managed to fight it back 4 times (4 attacks that all lasted about a week, but in the end, I managed to fight it off). It’s like I’m a werewolf, and every once in a while, the full moon is back and I struggle to stay human - and I’m managing, much thanks to a new sigil on my skin, keeping the beast caged. 

Now, it would be a lie to say that the tattoo is the only reason, though: in wake of my change, and with this new intense fighting spirit, I also made a resolution to try something new: refuse to be sad. You know how people say smiling will trick the brain to think you’re happy? It sounds stupid as hell, but I finally decided that you know what?, it doesn't hurt to try. I’m gonna insist that I’m happy, even if my brain says otherwise. Fake it till you make it. And it’s working - a little wavering included, but who isn’t sad from time to time? Because my capacity to do things has been gravely weakened, though, I’m on semi-welfare now, though. It’s a kind of welfare where they haven’t accepted your application for welfare yet and you get like a tiny allowance every other week to live off of instead (not meant for a permanent basis, as it’s not nearly enough - usually given to people who are between jobs for a month or two, just to get by). I don’t have the money to buy a house, but I’ve been moving for so many consecutive years that it’s jeopardizing my mental health so I’m trying something new: I moved back with my parents, and I’m currently trying to figure out what the next step is. I want to get a house somehow, so I have a permanent base to grow off of. I know that will take a lot stress off me to focus my tiny quota of strength on something else (like figuring out what to do about education/work). But since I don’t have the means, I can’t get a regular type of loan. There is a special kind you can get if you’re on welfare, so I’m currently applying for welfare, but to apply, I need to do a lot of tests to show where my ability level lies, but I’m not able to do them so I need to get papers from doctors to confirm that. I had already “proven myself” but then I lost my psychologist, case worker and house doctor all at once, so I have to spend about a year extra to re-prove myself. And then I can apply if they say I can apply, and then I have to wait for a yes or a no, and then work from there... So you see, right now, my fate is in others’ hands. I’m basically in a limbo of waiting, then doing some sort of meeting, then waiting for it to process, so I can meet someone else and wait again. I’m currently waiting for my caseworker to answer to request to meet her so I can ask how my case is coming alone since i haven’t heard from them in over a month... It’s quite... frustrating. But I’m a professional when it comes to dealing with these things, since I’m over a decade deep in this sh-. 

In the meantime, though! I am working hard to keep my mental stability in check! And I’m doing that by setting monthly goals, and starting every day with breakfast and writing down daily goals! It helps me structure my days and I’ve gotten so much done this way! It’s helping me in all sorts of ways! And although I don’t have a lot of material things to boast with, I feel more successful now than I ever have, because I’ve done another huge leap in personal growth and I’m growing more and more apt to tackle life. Just wait. I might not have a lot now, but when we do tally in twenty years from now, I’ll have the earthly goods that my peers have, and a more developed psyche on top of that! I’m on the path to finding true happiness, and that’s so much more important than following the highway to wealth. 

Ah, sorry for how long this got... But yeah... I have a lot of small joys every day that I’d like to share. My journey is really making me happy. But I’m afraid I’m just boring or annoying people. I get the occasional “write what you want” ask, but I can’t shake the feeling anyways. I’m working on getting better at sharing, though. Thank you for giving me the push to write this. Take care, anon!

[problematic-camren]

I started reading one of ur stories and I'm kind of curious abt u? How old are u? Where do you do u live in this crazy world? Do you think we live in a Matrix? Which Hogwarts house/Game of Thrones do you belong to? What is your favorite series? When was the last time you cried? Why? What is your favorite color? Do you think Freud explains everything? Do you believe in happiness? Do you believe in world peace, eradication of poverty? Do you think it's possible to love two people at the same time?

I’m curious… Which of my fics did you read that made you wanna ask me these questions?Anyway, here are my answers…

How old are u? – I definitely feel older than my actual age. Older, not as in wiser. But older as in I’m tired of living lol.

Where do you do u live in this crazy world? — I live in my own fantasy land.(but yeah Asia)

Do you think we live in a Matrix? – definitely. And I always ask people I meet if they’ll choose the blue or red pill. Sometimes, I feel like I’d rather be ignorant. It’s definitely more blissful that way. But to be awake definitely gives you that rush. It makes you feel alive. Yo feel everything, and not just the glossy pre-programmed facade that they’ve fed us.

Which Hogwarts house/Game of Thrones do you belong to? – personally, i would wanna be in slytherin… But I took several tests (including Pottermore) and I always get sorted into Ravenclaw.. (In Ilvermorny, I’m a Thunderbird)…. Sorry I don’t watch GoT (coz I want to read the series first, but I never seem to have the time.

What is your favorite series? – I’m not sure… I love Buffy, Orphan Black, AHS, Firefly… Idk.

When was the last time you cried? Why? – probably two weeks ago. Terrible anxiety attack. EDIT: today, rewatched HP deathly hallows and someone's death never fail to make me sad

What is your favorite color? – black (I know it’s not a real color, let’s not get technical. Lol.) and grey. And white.

Do you think Freud explains everything? – no ONE psychologist (or philosopher, for that matter) can truly explain everything. I believe in a mix of everything from different schools of knowledge… Although, it’s quite interesting you mentioned Freud specifically, because I don’t think that most psych people are still into Freudian psychology. At least most of my psychology major friends prefer Jungian than Freudian…

Do you believe in happiness? – happiness is fleeting. I think happiness is just an illusion, but a very vital one. Also, it depends on the person. Happiness varies depending on what the person craves for.

Do you believe in world peace, eradication of poverty? – I don’t believe it’s possible. Do I want it to happen? Of course. But utopia is something I think is highly improbable. Even if we manage to achieve a system where society operates on equal sharing and roles, eventually, we will all revert back to chaos. Why? Because humans are innately greedy and territorial. Yes we also have good things within us, but we’re animals (intellectual animals, yes, but still animals), and we have this primal urge to possess. That’s why we’re all obsessed in labels and race and religion etc. we are pack animals, and that will lead to us fighting over everything.

Do you think it’s possible to love two people at the same time? – I do. But not equally. I believe that love is energy. When we love someone, we give them a percentage of our love. Say 90%. If we find another one and we love them too, the initial 90% from our first love get shifted, so maybe it’s now 50/40… We love both persons, but never equally. Because love, in a chemical sense, is volatile. Also, love changes forms. It’s never stagnant.

(Thank you for these wonderful questions. I appreciate you, anon) feel free to converse with me anytime. Through anon of course (coz I suck at responding to PMs.)

[commanderclexaarmy]

Tagged by: @clexa-is-my-sexuality

Rules: Answer the questions and tag 20 blogs you want to get to know better

Nicknames: pops o'clock

Star sign: Scorpio

Height: 5ft 3 ½

Time right now: 21:12

Last thing you googled: you don’t wanna know 😏 jk I googled some stuff for Valentine’s Day

Fave music artist: Atm? Shawn Mendes

Song stuck in my head: ‘The beginning’ Rupaul Last movie I watched: Narnia: Prince Caspian

Last tv show I watched: Riverdale, I’m enjoying it

What I’m wearing right now: My gay ass PJs

When I created this blog: From about October 2015

The kind of stuff I post: Clexa. Gay ass shit. More gay ass shit about my girlfriend and just random stuff I find

Do I get asks regularly?: sometimes but I’d like to get a lot more *wink wink* *nudge nudge*

Why did I choose my url: cos clexa and it was the first one that was free

Gender: Female.

Hogwarts House: slytherin. I took the Pottermore test

Pokémon team: Team Mystic Favorite color: dark purple

Average hours of sleep: fucks knows. On a good night? About 10 hours cos God I like my sleep

Lucky number: 13, 114 (although it’s not really a lucky number as such as a meaningful number)

Favourite characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa, Emily Fields, Hanna Marin

Dream job: Forensic psychologist

Number of blankets I sleep with: One. But if I’m feeling a bit more autistic that normal I sleep with my normal one and then a weighted blanket which calms me down.

I tag: @anxious-apples, @clexa-is-alive, @alwaysaslutforlexa, @athenadoratheknight, @elizataylorslapda, @ohhayyyyyyyyy

[juniper-pompadour]

rules: you answer the questions and tag some blogs you’d like to get to know better

tagged by @g-taire, thank you for tagging me

nicknames: i don't really have a serious nickname, i've got a few nicknames that come from inside jokes between me and my roommates but if you can come up with a nickname for alex i'd love you forever?

star sign: "that fragile Capricorn unraveled words like moths upon old scarves" sorry i'm a nerd

height:  the last time i checked i was 160 cm

time right now: 20:13

last thing i googled: "oil based face paint"

fav music artist(s): ? krhm...noo..i don't know what you're talking about. no music here...no music references absolutely no. but some artists that i think are really cool and who I really haven't mentioned enough are sleeping at last and mree

song stuck in my head: oh ms believer

last movie i watched:  the da vinci code

last tv show i watched: man, i have no clue. i don't watch tv shows that often anymore..i think it must've been a documentary? perhaps a documentary on alice in wonderland and lewis carroll

what i’m wearing right now: a red hoodie and black sweatpants. i really wanna point out that i also am wearing these super cool socks that i got for christmas

when i created this blog: maybe 4 years ago? i'm not really sure

the kind of stuff i post: an assemblage of my interests that change far too often to my liking but here we are 

do i have any other blogs: atm nope

do i get asks regularly: not really

why did i choose my url: it's a wordplay on the phrase "sunny sky"

hogwarts house: ...dO NOT ASK ME THAT LIKE..i'm in middle of a personality crisis because as a long as i can remember i've always been a slytherin but apparently i'm a gryffindor now? i've done so many sorting hat tests and i've gotten every other house except for hufflepuff (although i still believe i've always been a slytherpuff) and ok now i'm rambling again, good job. so yeah. idk, i appreciate all the houses tbh but for longest i've thought myself as a slytherin.

pokémon team: ...i know someone's gonna drag me now..valor...but i'm really chill, i swear

fav color: atm yellow

average hours of sleep: av..average hours of sleep...wha-..is that a thing? i think about 7h when i'm on a vacation, otherwise probably 6 or 5?

lucky number: i don't have a lucky number but i've always liked the number 8

favorite character: from what? maybe neville longbottom from hp

number of blankets i sleep with: with 1? maybe a comforter if it's really cold outside but that'd mean it was -30 celcius outside

dream job: i just want to do something that matters, something that doesn't feel draining to me. i've considered professions like psychologist and languages/literature teacher but sometimes i feel like that kind of job isn't for me. i've always expressed myself better through writing, the meticulous art of conveying images, emotions and surroundings through words appeals to me that much that i feel like it'd be a dream come true if i had the chance to earn my living as an author.  

following: 90

number of posts: 28, 593

i’m tagging @unorganized-potato @stray-dog-sick @peenorpoika96 @evanescos @twenty-one-broken-people

btw as always, even if i tagged you, you don’t have to do this if you don’t feel like it for whatever reason there might be, it’s ok. and again if anyone else fancies doing this, tag me so i can get to know you because y’all are awesome