#I’ve had this in my drafts since January help

[roserunodays]

Kotoko and the Number 10: Sharing Aspects of All The Other Prisoners

Number 1: Haruka

Hi hi!!! This will be a 9 part series where I analyze Kotoko's similarities and parallels between the other prisoners, since I don’t think many people have talked about it on here!

I really wanted to highlight this because of her number being 10, which is a combination of all the other numbers before it, just like how Kotoko shares aspects with every other prisoner including Es. The number 10 is considered "the Pythagorean symbol of perfection or completeness". This notion of perfection is also highlighted in YONAH, where Kotoko specifically calls out Es on what she considers an "imperfect" justice based on their actions as a warden because of them getting attached to the prisoners.

Kotoko: "You can't even do your justice. All imperfect."

Kotoko is the last prisoner Es meets, which sets up her role as their mirror (and thus, the audience’s mirror) in the story. Because of her role as the mirror and asking to act as Es' fangs, she also tries to judge the other prisoners based on her own merits, although this quickly gets distorted during T2 when her ideals get validated and her bonds with them all get severed as a result.

But despite trying to separate herself from the others and place herself above them, Kotoko’s own character shares a lot of similarities with the rest of the prisoners. Whether she realizes it deep down or not, there’s something very tragic when you realize this woman has thrown away everything, including her own potential bonds and mercy, just so she can act as a tool for justice.

Her lack of bonds in the prison and her subsequent self-isolation after T1 all culminate into a character who refuses to acknowledge her similarities with those she calls "sinners", people who are just like her and ones she could’ve potentially related to if she didn’t cut herself off from the rest of the prison. This is specifically what I wanted to analyze for these posts! I will be going into parallels with each of them, as well as their own personal relationship they have with Kotoko.

Let's start with Haruka:

Surprisingly, Haruka and Kotoko have interacted a lot! Despite how different they are, it seems like Yamanaka really wanted to highlight their parallels and dynamic in Milgram, especially through the timeline conversations. So what do Haruka and Kotoko have in common?

Aspect 1: Weakness/Cannibalism/Children

The most obvious aspect connecting Haruka and Kotoko as characters is the concept of "weakness" and how this plays a role in both of their characters. For Haruka, this is what he views himself as. Because of his childhood abuse and neglect from his mother due to him being "different", Haruka views himself as "weaker" than others. He wants to continue being weak because being a "pitied and loved weakling" will help him get the love he hasn't had since he was a child, despite Haruka himself not wanting to be "weak" in the end, wishing he was stronger. Kotoko, in contrast, wants to protect innocent weaklings, but she also despises and looks down on them as well, distancing herself from them in the process because she also sees herself in them.

Haruka's T1 song is literally called "Weakness", and the Japanese title of it can be linked back to cannibalism, as shown below:

I do think this is also what "Metamorphosis of the weak" refers to: it refers to Haruka's transformation from himself, a weakling, believing he was right in killing another weakling. The weak are meat after all, so they must be devoured in order for someone to become stronger:

Es: "You have killed a person. Surely out of a deeply personal reason - a person who was young and weak. Is that right?"

Haruka: "I– I-I CAN KILL ANY BEING THAT'S SMALLER THAN ME, YOU KNOW!"

Where does this prospect of "cannibalism/the strong eat the weak" also show up? In the story of Jacques Roulet! Where a man who turns into a werewolf ends up killing and devouring a child:

Before the judges, Roulet acknowledged that he was able to transform himself into a wolf by means of a salve which his parents had given him.

The wretched man, whose name was Roulet, of his own accord stated that he had fallen upon the lad and had killed him by smothering him, and that he had been prevented from devouring the body completely by the arrival of men on the spot.

His hands dyed in blood. His nails were long as claws, and were clotted with fresh gore, and shreds of human flesh.

Kotoko also had significant motifs that link back to children: The 子 (ko) in her name means "child", she often has significant interactions and connections to the younger members of the cast (i.e. Haruka, Muu, and Amane), and children are usually part of the group of "weaklings" that Kotoko vows to protect.

Haruka always links himself back to his childhood self in his mvs — because that was when he was happiest. A “weak” and happy child who didn’t have to worry about being shut out, who didn’t have to worry about catching up to his peers, who didn’t have to worry about whether or not he would be loved.

Aspect 2: Self-Image/Usefulness (and Self-hate)

Both Haruka and Kotoko do not like themselves (with Haruka being more apparent about it while Kotoko repressing it), and they want to be useful to other people, which plays into both of their own dehumanization of their self-image. To be used to be worthy, to be used is to useful, to be used is to have a purpose, a reason to keep living:

Haruka: "So what if she's using me? Isn't it a good thing to be used? For someone to think of me as worthy enough to use me… isn't that something to be happy about?"

Haruka wants attention. He wants to be his mother's favorite, because that will finally make himself "useful" in his own eyes. For his mother to finally accept him after so long of rejecting his whole existence, if he can just be useful to someone, then he will be happy.

So it's really ironic when Kotoko of all people criticizes him for this. She notes his general weakness of latching onto others as a "doltish parasite" in Deep Cover, calling it a "codependency of the weak":

But is she any better than him?

"From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"

Isn't she just another person willing to do anything to be useful to someone else, just like the very weaklings she criticizes for being dependent on others? We clearly see in YONAH that once Es begins to criticize Kotoko for her actions as their fang, she immediately starts freaking out at the notion of this purpose being taken away from her:

Kotoko: "If you don't have strength on your own, let me take care of it, Es! I can do it in MILGRAM!"

Es: "Your power has value, and you can do a lot with it. But MILGRAM is mine. Even if I continue to work with you, I'm the one in the lead. You're just a tool. Don't get too carried away."

And throughout Deep Cover, we see her acting as Es' fang with her own warden outfit and everything. While she compensates with clinging onto this role for her self-acceptance, Kotoko projects onto others what she's thinks of herself. She doesn't want to be considered weak. She doesn't want to acknowledge the self-hatred she has for herself deep down.

Similarly, it's pretty obvious that Haruka...does not like himself. Not even after T2, does he like himself despite his confidence growing as a person. This can be noted through his T2 interrogation questions, where he still states how "every single thing is wrong about him" and that "no one in the prison is most like him because they are all great people" implying that he does not see himself as a "great" person.

And this similar idea was already hinted at in HARROW, that Kotoko does not like herself at all either. It’s one of the main reasons that play into her training herself to be a vigilante. Because handing out that sort of justice gives her a reason to be useful in some way. She does want to protect people of course, but this path of self-destruction she's been walking on and dedicating her entire life to is the only thing that gives her existence meaning.

In her T2 Interrogation Q11, Kotoko has been shown to see herself as a beast through projecting her onto the question. It is quite obvious as to who she's referring to, with Deep Cover showing her shadow, something that is a part of her, as a monster with human flesh and blood, including her own self stained with it:

Q: Is there really no chance to start anew for wrongdoers? A: No way. Once a beast gets a taste for human flesh, it will always come back for seconds.

This is what makes them such good parallels in their self-hatred: Haruka plays himself down and brings it all the way up to the forefront. His self-confidence issues and the abuse he suffered through his mother are clear enough for the audience to acknowledge. With the other prisoners, Haruka sees the best in all of them while playing himself down.

But with Kotoko, because of the way that she is, she doesn’t let any of that be her main focus in her mvs. She tries to play herself up and present herself as better than the rest of them. But that self-hate is still there, she's just highly projecting it onto others, especially people she considers "weaklings". This is why Kotoko distances herself while still trying to protect them. She is afraid of seeing herself in them. She is afraid of being seen as weak.

In Kotoko's T2 Interrogation Q16, Kotoko further encapsulates this idea with claiming that those who are "weak" will easily turn to evil, which sounds eerily familiar to her current circumstances right now: someone who has strayed from the path and her core ideals, a prioritization of destroying evil over protecting the weak.

Q: Do you think there are the ‘weak’ among the other prisoners? A: I’m sure there’s a lot. Those with weak wills will easily turn to evil. The only thing we can do is firmly instill the risk of turning to it.

Aspect 3: Potential Victim (This will go into theorizing for Kotoko's crime and her possible true victim just a heads up!)

We know that Haruka's confirmed victim is a little girl. We don't know what their exact relationship is currently as of now (potentially younger sister he might've shut out or a childhood friend of his), but it's clear he and the girl were close when they were kids. I am assuming this girl is grown up now in the present around the same age Haruka is, but the way in which her childhood self is shown heavily throughout Weakness, as well as how Es points her out as "young and weak", goes to show that she is represented the same way the other girl (Lucky) is in Deep Cover: someone who is young and weak.

Throughout Weakness, it's shown that Haruka is aware that what he did was wrong, but in his T2 voice drama after his inno verdict in T1, Haruka begins to latch onto the idea that he actually didn't do anything wrong by killing his victim.

If we take into account both the indirect murder theory, then Kotoko's true victim being Lucky would parallel Haruka's victim really well, with both of them being little girls who got killed by the one person they were presumably close with.

This also ties back into their cannibalism motifs: Haruka directly kills the little girl (a weakling) so he can get his mother's attention and be her favorite. Kotoko ends up indirectly killing Lucky (a weakling that she saved before), as a result of her negligence and failing to prioritize the weak over targeting the evil in the world.

Personal Relationship with Each Other:

Like I've noted above, Haruka and Kotoko have interacted a lot, mostly through timeline convos because Haruka has visited her on her birthday 3/4 times:

Their first interaction isn't too noteworthy. It just shows him trying to tell her about the warden but failing to do so, which makes Kotoko miss Es' call. This sets up how he views Kotoko as "scary" and not easy for him to talk to and approach:

But the next 3 after that involve him visiting on her birthday specifically! The first time, Haruka is still afraid, but he does manage to say happy birthday to her before immediately running away again:

The second time, Haruka is visibly more confident due to interacting with the others more, as well as his inno verdict in T1. It's interesting to note that he mentions Muu's importance to him to Kotoko this early on before T2, so Kotoko is pretty aware now of how much she means to Haruka. This is also where Kotoko notices how the verdicts are affecting everyone's mental states:

And we're now in the present showing us where their current relationship stands. Kotoko's view of him changes drastically in the most recent convo because of her inno verdict in T1: Haruka is now a "sinner" to Kotoko despite his inno verdict. Kotoko doesn't even bother differentiating because her thought process is pretty distorted by now -> everyone here is a sinner and should be guilty (including her but she doesn't want to address that for obvious reasons) -> she wants Es to vote everyone guilty so she can continue having said purpose of being a fang.

Regardless of what she thinks of him now though, Haruka still goes to her and asks her to not get involved in his plan, even explaining to her that he wasn't doing this for himself, but instead for Muu:

I find it interesting how Haruka tries to clarify to her that he's only doing this to protect Muu in the end. He uses it as some kind of key word to gain Kotoko's attention and to convince her to help him. Because what does Kotoko keep saying she wants to do? Protect weaklings.

Haruka knows Kotoko well enough just based on their interactions to mention something that is important to her: protecting others. He's pretty observant to notice that protection means a lot to Kotoko, so he mentions it in hopes of getting her attention because he seems familiar with her distorted thought process by now.

Kotoko: "If only all sinners were like you." Haruka: "No...that's not it...I don't mean it that way...this isn't for me..."

His choice of words here seem to imply that he knew what she was thinking in her mind: that he was only planning to kill himself because of his own "selfish reasons" or as a way to "escape punishment", but Haruka quickly tries to clarify to her that that's not the case.

Kotoko also knows how much Muu means to Haruka, and Haruka knows Kotoko's priorities, as well as her affiliation with protection. It's really interesting to show two completely different people (at least on the surface level), share a bunch of similarities and who both know each other better than they let on.

Haruka’s view of Kotoko:

She seems to be someone he can trust after their multiple interactions, even having the confidence to tell her specifically to not get involved in his plan. I guess that shows the faith he places in Kotoko, knowing she would likely listen? Or at the very least, she is someone he can turn to, talking to her about something so dire and self-destructive.

Kotoko’s view of Haruka:

I do believe that Kotoko has a bit of a soft spot for the younger prisoners in Milgram, so her willingness to even hear Haruka out and respect his wishes (including to not harm Muu) is very noteworthy coming from Kotoko. Although, her view has sadly been muddled given Kotoko’s inno verdict and her ideals becoming more distorted, so of course she’ll keep her distance from Haruka, call him a “sinner”, “abnormal”, and not stop him from killing himself.

[bimbo-baggins17]

Master’s Pet: Anakin Skywalker

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CW: MDNI!! Smut and angst, no comfort! Infidelity, dub-con, unprotected sex, p in v, manipulation, implied age-gap, petnames, afab anatomy

AN: Anakin is aged up a little into his thirties, the end of ROTS didn’t happen, I apologize this is so long. Loosely based off of ‘Teacher’s Pet’ by Melanie Martinez. Mainly the trope. Did anyone ask for this? Nope. Do I care? Also nope. This is has been in my drafts since January gents 🫡

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Jedi were supposed to stray from these feelings. Attachments have always been forbidden, claiming them to be a path that leads straight to the dark side through jealousy. You never understood how that could be. They seemed so pure. To love and be loved. To care.

You never thought it would happen even once. Until after a training session with your Master.

“You’ve been distracted recently.” Anakin points out simply, coming up to you as you retrieve your dropped saber off the ground.

You sigh and nod your head, clipping the hilt to your belt. “I apologize, Master.”

He nods his head slowly, hands clasped behind his back. “What’s on your mind?” He asks gently.

Your eyes snap up from the floor and to landing on his face. You sigh a little and shake your head. “Nothing..I just..I haven’t been sleeping well lately.” It’s not the truth but it’s not a total lie either. You had just decided to leave out quite a few details. Like the ones of how there was an ache for him growing stronger every day between your legs. Anytime you closed your eyes you were plagued with visions of his naked, sweaty body on top of your’s, hands moving all over your’s in exploration through the throes of pleasure.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice draws you from the images you can’t seem to escape anymore, slipping into them so easily which is the real reason for your mistake. You shake your head and he nods his slowly, humming in acknowledgment. “I can tell when you aren’t being honest, Padawan.”

You furrow your eyebrows together in question, as you attempt to keep your force presence reserved as to not raise his suspicion any further, hoping to just play this off.

He chuckles and takes another step closer towards you, “Should I correct myself? I can smell you.” As if to make a point, he takes a long, deep inhale, his nose inches from the pulse point of your neck.

Your heart rate spikes instantly, resisting the shiver that threatened to move up your body. What was he doing?

“Do you really think that those thoughts of your’s are secret?” He questions further, “I can taste your arousal from down the hall,” You swallow thickly, your breathing growing quicker. “Can practically feel how wet you always are,” He leans in closer to whisper directly in your ear, “So wet and ready for me.”

Those words pull you from your stupor. You whip around putting distance between you both. You’ve pictured this many times but now that it’s happening, you can’t help but feel hesitant. “Master!” You scold, “What are you doing?”

Anakin chuckles but there’s no trace of actual humor in the action. “Doing exactly what I’ve seen in your pretty little head too many times to count.”

The distance doesn’t deter him, instead he moves in closer once more. Each step he takes towards you, you take one back. You end up with your back pressed firmly against the wall, trapped between him and it.

“Don’t run away from me now,” He coos, his breath fanning across your face.

Maker you knew this was wrong. He was your master..he was married even…to a senator. But with him so close, tempting you to give in, it was hard not to.

“We can count this as part of your cardio,” He grins at you, a devilish look in his eyes.

You let out a shaky breath, determined to hold your ground but you quickly fold when you feel something poking you from under his tunic. When you whimper, his pupils dilate, nearly swallowing up all the color of his irises.

“Feel that? It’s all for you. Let your Master teach you a couple things..” He murmurs into your ear, biting on the lobe as he pulls back. His lips leave wet kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat.

When you make no attempt to stop him, he grins against your skin and captures your lips in a sloppy and hungry kiss, as if he was trying to devour you. His tongue prods into your mouth eagerly, greedy hands roaming all of your body. Anakin grinds his clothed erection against your thigh, groaning.

It all happens so fast that you don’t realize it’s happening until you’re on your back of the training room floor, your Master overtop of your body. He’s too desperate to be inside you he doesn’t bother fully undressing either of you, just enough. He fishes his dick out of his trousers.

His large hands grip the backs of your legs and folds them up over your head before he’s thrusting into you, setting a brutal and unrelenting pace. Your hands reach for whatever they can grab, mewling underneath him.

“Yeah? You like that baby?”

You nod your head, pathetically babbling incoherently already as his cock rearranges your insides.

“Aw, am I already fucking you stupid?” He grunts as your walls squeeze tighter around him. “..’m gonna cum in you sweetheart.”

You try to shake your head, and get away from him but his hands leave your legs to grip onto your hips tight enough to leave marks, locking you securely in place. “Mm mm..you’re gonna take everything your Master gives you.” He moves your body to match his thrusts, forcing himself deep enough to make you see stars. With each roll of his hips, his pubic bone brushes against your clit bringing you closer to your edge.

You claw at the robes on his back as you feel yourself hurtling towards orgasm. You don’t even get time to warn him before your whole body is shaking, your pussy clamping tightly down around him as you cum harder than you ever have before. You’re too wrapped up in your own pleasure to feel his cock twitching and painting your walls white with his seed.

When he pulls out, you whimper at the sudden loss after having felt so full. He’s panting heavy, sweat beaded along his brow. “Maker,” He breathes out, “I really needed that.” He says.

Your brows furrow slightly as you straighten your robes back out. What did he mean? As if he read your mind he speaks. “She’s been away more,” He huffs out a humorless chuckle, “And when she’s home, she’s exhausted, or the kids are restless and make it hard to do anything together.”

“Oh.” You can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. This was just a way of blowing off some steam for him when this was something you imagined dozens of times?

He can tell you’re mentally spiraling, so he takes you by the chin and turns you to face him, “Hey,” He dips his head to catch your eyes, “don’t start that. You’re my special girl. You’ve always been.”

It’s stupid and you’re too naive but it makes you feel warm and fuzzy to hear him say that. You nod your head gently, your facial expression softening. “Alright..well I’ll cut training short for today since you did such a good job for me.”

You nod your head but feel a little disappointed again. He was leaving now? You figured you could get a few minutes afterwards to talk about things. Would this become a regular thing between you two now?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Padawan.”

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It goes like that for weeks, months even. Whenever he had a scratch that needed itched, he’d come to you. Each time you happily give yourself to him but it dug your grave a little bit deeper and soon you wouldn’t be able to climb out of it. You tried not to let it mean more to you than just sex but how could it not when he’d say the right things. Sure his affection was misplaced but you were blinded by your own heart.

Depending on his desperation, he’ll come to your quarters in the middle of the night, erection evident in his thin robes. Other times he’s inviting you to his own.

This time however while Padme is visiting her family with the kids, he brings you to their shared apartment in the city where there’s no limit to how loud you can be or how long you can spend together.

Both of you lay under the thin blanket covered in the result of hours between the sheets together. Anakin is on his back, arms tucked behind his head while you lay on your side facing him. The question of what this meant for you two was only growing harder to ignore. After contemplating for a moment they just tumble out of your mouth. “What are we?”

Anakin turns to look at you surprised and almost amused. “What?” He asks, a smirk on his lips.

You pull your eyebrows together trying to move past the initial sting of his reaction, “What are we?” You repeat again.

The smile grows a bit more on his face which causes your’s to sour. He realizes you’re serious and immediately his expression changes. He sits up in bed, rubbing a hand down his face with a sigh. “I don’t want to get into this now.”

You push yourself up to match his position, “I think we need to.” When did you become the more mature one between you two?

A moment of silence falls between you two before he speaks up again, “I’m your Master and you’re my Padawan.” He states plainly.

You recoil a bit at the words, “I hardly think that’s all we are.”

“If you think we’re anymore than that, you’re wrong.”

The words are hurled at you and they sting. Maybe it’s your fault for feeling like this meant more than it did but it didn’t ease that ache they caused. You shake your head and climb out of him and his wife’s bed, pulling your robes back on.

“Just hang on a second,” He speaks, running a hand through his hair, “look I’m sorry for how that came off but I just…I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I’m married still.”

“Oh so you draw the line at defining whatever this is but not having sex with me?”

He rolls his eyes exhaling loudly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what it sounded like though.”

Another sigh falls past his plump lips and his shoulders sag. “I’m your Master and you’re my Padawan.” He repeats the sentence again but this time with a tone you can’t quite decipher.

There’s a sinking feeling in your chest as those words practically hammer the last nail into the coffin. You nod your head slowly before finishing getting dressed like you had been before he stopped you.

He stands up off the bed now, placing a hand on your arm to halt your actions once more. “Can you stop for just a second and listen to me?”

You shrug his arm off, fastening your tunic which earns a huff from him. “You already said enough. Your point was made.”

“Stop being like this. You know things aren’t as simple as you’re making them out to be.”

You stop and whirl around to face him, “You’re right. Things aren’t that simple and that’s my fault for thinking they could be.”

Another silence falls between you two as he lets those words sink in. He realizes he’s fucked up with this whole situation. Anakin rests his hands on his hips wanting to say something to appease your upset. He didn’t intend to hurt you but he did and he won’t be able to take it back. You wouldn’t believe him if he said it now, but he did care about you.

When the quiet lingers for longer you shake your head and pull on your boots. “I’ll see you in the morning for training.” Is all you say before heading out the door, slamming it behind you.

Anakin is left alone with his thoughts. Should he fix things with you or consider it a blessing and focus on reigniting his relationship with his wife? “Kriff.” He mutters to himself.

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After that night things between you both were obviously different. Tense. Training sessions ended early even if he showed up late, he seemed to be the one out of it now.

Rounding the corner towards the training room you come to a stop seeing Anakin standing off to the side with Padmé. You hide yourself behind a pillar as to not be seen while peeking out at them. Bile creeps up the back of your throat seeing how gentle and tender he is with his touches with her, a contrast to how he is with you. It’s not fair to loathe her but you do. It should be you he looks at like that, not her. Especially when you’ve been the one to take care of his needs when he’s sought you out. You shut your eyes tightly as you see him lean in to kiss her before parting ways. As she walks past you, your hands curl into fists at your sides, jaw tensing.

With a sigh you continue on to your obligations. You feel an ache in your chest when you see him. Anakin turns towards you when he hears the door open, a smile on his face as if things were normal between you both, like he hadn’t been so indifferent towards you recently. “You’re late Padawan.”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly at his back to normal behavior and you nod your head once, “My apologies, Master.” You say quietly, averting your gaze.

“What’s that tone for?” He asks softer, eyebrows creasing with concern as he steps towards you tentatively.

You lift your eyes back to his face, your confusion only running deeper now. “What?”

“What?” He repeats back, confused over your own confusion.

Shaking your head you try to read his body language but as always it’s closed off. “Nothing.”

He sighs and takes another step towards you. “I know you better than that. Obviously something’s bothering you.”

You let out a huff and look away again. He taps your chin, bringing your gaze back to his. “Tell me. You know you can come to me with whatever’s on your mind.”

“Stop.” You speak the word quietly, finding it hard to not falter meeting his eyes.

His eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Stop what?”

“This. All of this.” You step back out of his hold, gesturing to the space between you two. “Whatever this even is anymore.”

His hand falls back limply to his side and he sighs, head hanging. He nods slowly. “I figured you wouldn’t just drop this.”

You scoff. “Seriously? I can’t just drop it easily like you obviously can.”

He immediately looks back up at you, “Easily? You think anything about this is easy for me?”

You throw your shoulders up, “Seems like it.”

He shakes his head and looks away again, running a hand through his curls in frustration. Meeting your eyes again he takes a step towards you once more. “Well you’re delusional then. It’s not easy for me. Nothing about this is easy. Maker’s sake, I have children I have to think about.”

Letting out a huff of irritation that was steadily growing, you fold your arms across your chest, “Should have thought of that before you initiated anything.”

“Yeah I know I know.” He mutters without missing a beat.

“You can always have more with me.” You offer quietly.

He shoots you a look again, “Don’t.” He warns.

Again you recoil at his tone.

He runs a hand down his face, annoyed. He’s annoyed at the situation he’s found himself in but also because he keeps snapping at you and he knows he’s hurting you. Which was never what he wanted. Despite the shady situation, he cares about you. You were so sweet and didn’t deserve this. You deserved so much better.

“Look, I do care. I do. I promise. But I can’t be what you need that’s why I never wanted feelings to get involved. It was supposed to just be a one time thing but then I couldn’t just let it be.” He explains, “I didn’t realize how neglected I allowed my needs to become but then you made me feel stuff I haven’t gotten to since before my kids were born.”

A thick silence lingers as you let his admission hang in the air. “Do you love her still?” You ask quietly.

“I-…I don’t know. I do? She’s the mother of my kids.”

Slowly you nod your head, “And what about me?”

“I care about you, I do. And there’s something between us. I can feel it but…but my kids, my life. I can’t just throw all of that away.”

You let out a shaky exhale. “So what now? What happens?”

He’s silent for a moment as he thinks of a solution. Maybe he’s selfish for it but he offers it up anyways, “We can either move on completely and ignore everything or you can still be there for me. It’s 100% your choice and I won’t judge you for whatever you choose.”

The silence lingers for longer again as you mentally war with yourself.

“We’ll call it a day and I’ll let you think, alright?” He offers up.

You nod your head. “Okay, yeah.”

He nods his head once. “Take your time, sweetheart, yeah?” He gives your arm an affectionate squeeze before stepping out of the training room. He’d give you your space to come to whatever decision you would.

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However, you don’t get as long as you thought you would.

That night, once you’re settled into bed and your pajamas, there’s a knock on your chambers door.

Getting up, you make your way over and answer it. There stands an almost sheepish looking Anakin. Your eyebrows draw together in question. “Master?”

“Anakin,” He corrects and then sighs, “I’m sorry sweetheart, I just, she’s gone and…I can’t wait. I need you right now. Please.”

And just like that, despite the voice in your head screaming at you to say no and push him away, you step back and open your door wider to let him in. Whenever he’d come crawling and begging for you, you’d fall prey to his desires again and again. Each time.

Even if it’s for just a taste or if it’s a lie, you couldn’t wouldn’t say no.

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

Taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny, @ann4zw, @johnbassplayercutie, @xangelicangel, @milliesrealgf, @jediavengers, @mortalheartache, @ala2ilas-s, @erosmutt, @speaknow-sw, @anisangeldust, @radiantvader

[reaveries]

▬  𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲

gif credit to @robpattinsongifs (much higher resolution on their account)

summary: late-night visits from your definitely human boyfriend

pairings: edward cullen x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k (approximately 7 minutes reading time)

a/n:  I’ve had this baby marinating in my drafts since January, when I was going through my bi-annual Twilight Renaissance. I was actually in the middle of writing a RE2R Leon Kennedy fic today and decided to put on a twilight playlist, and then I just knew I had to finish this one. It’s my first *published* non-RDR fic heehee (I have so much in my drafts, it’s insane). Anyways, enjoy (pardners)!

masterlist archive of our own

It’s that dreadful time of year again. 

The sun is making its curtain call as students from the nearby elementary school trip over themselves running home. Little girls and boys have sticky remnants of lunch peeking from the corners of their mouths and the grass is still slick from morning showers. But dusk is impatient in February, and its eagerness is encouraged in a town hidden beneath perpetual overcast nine months out of the year.

The school children ran past her window minutes ago when the sky had been painted brilliant indigo. Now, when she looks up the only thing left to see is her own dark reflection and the warm orange glow from a candle on the sill. Its tall flame stutters, collapsing and rising with the damp breeze. 

A page turns, disrupting the otherwise quiet room. The only other noise that can be heard is a soft pitter of water dripping onto the floorboards from a coat hanging off the closet door. 

She reaches for a mug sitting on the corner of her nightstand and promptly sets it back down upon finding it empty. It returns to its spot atop crumpled receipts and library hold slips belonging to the growing stack of books accumulating dust at her bedside. These books tower over the permanent nightstand residents: lazily discarded beaded necklaces, a sample bottle of floral perfume from Christmas, two little ceramic bunnies purchased from an antique mall in Port Angeles last summer, car keys, and drugstore chapstick. It might be worth convincing her to let go of some of these post-object permanence discoveries, but that is a matter for another time.

In a desperate attempt to comprehend the words she’s reading, she rolls onto her back and extends her arms straight in the air so the book hovers a foot from her face—a change of perspective to freshen the mind.

It does not help. 

No matter how much she shifts or squints, the antiquated prose remains stubbornly uninviting. She can’t fathom why anyone would willingly subject themselves to something so archaic and convoluted and furthermore, recommend it as one of their favorite novels.

With a huff, she adjusts the headphones at her ears, hoping the music will clear her mind. But despite her best efforts, the book slowly drifts closer to her chest and her eyelids grow heavier as the music lulls her into a dreamless sleep. 

When she wakes to cold fingers grazing her jaw it’s impossible to tell whether she’d fallen asleep or if she just blinked. The weight of the headphones gently disappears as they’re pulled off and set down on the nightstand. She grumbles incoherently and stretches out her legs, not unlike a cat after a long, difficult day of lounging around. Her eyes begrudgingly flutter open and immediately find him only inches away. He’s watching her, peering down with a twinkle in his amber-colored eyes.

“Edward…” she whispers.

“Dracula,” he says, eyebrows raised as he makes the observation. “I thought you didn’t like Gothics.”

She reaches a finger into the book on her chest and folds the page over before tossing it carelessly into the sea of knitted and quilted blankets at the foot of the bed. With the haze of sleep still clouding her eyes, she smiles sheepishly up at him.

“I’m trying.”

He chuckles lightly and brings his hand to her hair again, brushing stray strands off her forehead and tucking them behind her ears before leaning down to place a chaste kiss above her eyes. Though his lips are soft, the icy touch of his skin sends a shiver down her spine. He’s always cold; a result of his anemia, he says. However, the downpour that's dampened his hair and clothes to his skin has chilled him even more so.

In an effort to sit up, she raises herself onto her elbows and catches a glimpse of the bright red digital numbers on her bedside clock.

“You’re late, you know,” she chides, watching him settle uncomfortably at the head of the bed. He sinks down among the pillows, their plushness contrasting humorously with the stiffness of his demeanor. He reaches behind his back and tugs free a stuffed rabbit lodged between him and the headboard, then sets it down softly beside himself.

“I had to make a quick stop. I hope you can forgive me,” he says in a hushed voice, so as not to make too much noise in the resting house. His eyes flit towards the nightstand and she follows them to see a new item sitting amongst the disorder. A tall styrofoam cup with steam rising thinly from the lid. Coffee. 

The mug she just finished sits right beside it. She’d considered brewing more but that was before being rendered unconscious by Bram Stoker nearly an hour ago. Her heart swells at his thoughtfulness, but a more pressing question comes to mind before she can voice her gratitude.

“How did you even climb up here with that?” She asks, reaching for the cup with both hands.

“I’m very…agile.” There’s a look in his eyes that tells her there’s more to it, but she chooses to ignore it for now with a shake of her head.

The taste is immediately harsh, significantly more bitter than how she makes it herself. Any trace of a smile dissipates and is replaced with a pronounced look of disgust.

“Good God, Edward,” she exclaims. “Decaf? What did I ever do to you?”

He laughs and takes it from her hands, leaving her still reeling from the unexpected taste. “As much as I love staying up with you, you need sleep,” he says, a hint of sternness in his voice. “You didn’t get any last night and you don’t hide it well.”

He says the last part sweetly, tilting his head to the side and following her motions with his eyes, watching her pick up the stuffed rabbit by its cotton paw.

“Don’t hide it well?” She repeats, the indignation in her voice contrasting with the softness of the toy as she raises it high into the air and brings it down against his chest with a soft thud. “Well maybe I wouldn’t have to hide anything if you—weren’t—keeping—me—up—all—night!”

With every word, the rabbit hits his forearms poorly attempting to shield himself from the blows. Edward grins as she attacks him, the soft toy barely making a sound against his arms. He watches as her hair falls across her face in the midst of the unrelenting attack, the warm glow of the candle casting a soft halo around her.

But then, his amusement fades as he sees the exhaustion in her eyes. 

He gently takes the rabbit from her and sets it aside before grabbing her arm mid-swing and pulling her into his chest. She sighs heavily and surrenders, relaxing against him. "I’m sorry," he whispers, his lips brushing against her hair. “I’ll let you rest tonight.”

Despite his tender words, a residual half-baked frustration lingers inside her. “How did you manage to stay awake in class?” she mumbles into his sweater, the words muffled. “I mean, you didn’t get any sleep either.”

He chuckles, as if privy to some inside joke.

“Well, someone had to take your notes for you,” he says, his fingers trailing through her hair in a soothing motion. “And besides, you looked so peaceful drooling away.” 

She looks up at him, a hint of a drowsy smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I did not drool,” she insists.

He grins down at her, his eyes alight with fondness. “Of course not.”

She groans and buries her head into his chest, to which he responds by encircling his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“I’m never falling asleep in front of you again,” she grumbles.

His chest rumbles beneath her cheek as he laughs. “Alright, angel.”

He shifts his hand from the crown of her head to the curve of her back, tracing languid circles over the fabric of her t-shirt as the room fills with a comfortable silence. The rain outside grows heavier, tapping against the glass with a more insistent force. Her body is warm against his and he can feel the steady thumping of her heartbeat as if it's his own. A few minutes slip by, and he senses her breathing even out and deepen. Without disturbing her, he reaches for a nearby blanket and drapes it over her, then turns his gaze to the candle on the windowsill.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, as the dwindling flame fades out of focus. 

This is his favorite part of the day.

Vague arrays of soft, muted hues and shapes swirl around in his vision, overtaking the warm surroundings of her bedroom. They morph into recognizable figures after some time, and he can hear them speaking when he focuses. For the most part, they sound as if he’s underwater and they’re conversing on the shore. But every now and then, a clear phrase emerges.

Suddenly, the floating shapes assimilate into a figure resembling him and he realizes what this dream is. It’s a recurring one he’s particularly fond of. He settles in and pulls her closer as the scene ebbs between reality and distortions of the unconscious mind. 

He can’t remember how he used to pass the night hours before he met her. Books, records, films--looking back, they feel hollow compared to nights spent like this. Part of him hopes he’ll never know what it's like to want for this. But these dreams, and her thoughts in the waking hours, assure him he won’t ever have to find out.

[kanmom51]

A walk down memory lane.

I was feeling a little nostalgic today. Perhaps it's me missing the guys, and JM and JK in particular. Perhaps it's me sitting here and thinking about everything that's happened since 2023, culminating in their enlistment together, and now us getting, all at once, this barrage of JM - Jikook - JK content.

All this had me thinking of my own journey in the fandom, and especially here, as Kanmom51 in this little insignificant blog of mine.

The things I've learnt, the friends I've made (lifetime friends for which I have to thank BTS and Jikook in particular for - so thanks guys, love you for who you are and who you have helped me evolve into). It's nice to stop once in a while and ponder about it all.

Next I went diving into the blog a little, to remember when and where I started.

As mentioned in previous posts, I knew of BTS before, but truly discovered them and fell in love with them after basically being forced to watch MOTS ON:E live online concert. That was back in October 2020. Noticed our two and their dynamics and dived right in. Tumblr was a new discovery as well (Twitter/X came much later).

I started out by reblogging other's posts (some blogs don't even exist anymore, some are still around - makes me happy to see those that stuck around - and some I guess either didn't like what I had to say or the other way round, life happens).

What I wanted to share, oh so very randomly, was my very first post.

Now, listen here. I'm writing this without even seeing that first post yet, so it's probably a huge cringe moment, but Idk, I thought it would be fun.

So here we go. My very first stand alone post, written and posted (didn't even know you could keep drafts back then, lol) 31 January 2021:

A little cringe reading that today, lol.

Since then over 8,500 posts written. Many of which I am very proud of.

😊

Thank you all for making this journey with me.

I love you all!!

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Ultracrepidarian [Spencer x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@virginmary2008) Center (@reidobsessed) Right (@quillnote)

Prompt: When the BAU-reader nearly faints while giving a lecture to the NAT trainees, Spencer finally can’t hold back how he really feels about her as he drives her home. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: hurt/angst/comfort

Word Count: 15K

Content Warnings: Light drinking, canon typical violence (unsub kills via acid [description of bodies after death] mention of bodies being cut into), the threat of violence [reader and Spencer]  and physical assault [reader and a random woman], drugging [reader], ERs, broken bones, language, and prolonged pain. If I missed any, please let me know. 

A/N: Good evening, loves! It’s the first fic of January and it’s with the cutest, Spencer! I’ve had this idea since I learned the word ultracrepidarian, and I could totally see him saying it to someone. This is a slow burn until the very end. I tried my best to build up the suspense and tension between the reader and Reid, and I hope you enjoy the payout at the end. As always, thank you to my lovely readers who interact with my work. I hope the new year is treating you well. If you do enjoy this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Have a great rest of your week! Love Levi - ❤️

List wil all stories 

_y/n_ = your name 

_c/t_ = coffee or tea 

_y/l/n_ = your last name 

_y/c/y_’s = your color eyes 

__y/f/f/f_ = your favorite fast food 

_y/f/f/g/m_ = your favorite feel good movie 

_y/l/p_ = your local pharmacy 

“Ultracrepidarian,” Spencer said aloud while looking over the draft of the lecture _y/n_ was due to give tomorrow to the fresh batch of N.A.T. trainees. Agent _y/l/n_ looked up and said, “My lecture is what now?” _y/n_ had never heard the word before in her life. She wasn’t sure she could even say it right if it was written on paper. Spencer looked up from his notes and repeated, “Ultracrepidarian. What I’m trying to say is that you’re trying to sound smart, but I don’t think it’s helping your point.” _y/n_ sighed and said, “I am trying to sound smart. That’s the point. Why would two hundred new agents just coming back from their holiday break want to listen to me talk about how to do their case exercises? Derek was supposed to be the one giving this lecture anyway. Why’d he ask me and not Hotch or you? I’m so new to this I feel like I was just in those trainings myself.” Hotch, who had overheard the conversation as he was passing up to his office offered, “Morgan asked you because he saw you as the best fit for the job. If he’d wanted me or Spencer, he would have asked, but he asked you for a reason, _y/n_. You’ll do a fine job.” Aaron’s words of affirmation sent a moment of comfort _y/n_’s way, but the copious annotations Reid was making on her draft had her stomach tighten again. Three days prior, during one of the long, boring paperwork-filled days in the office, Morgan had gotten a call at his desk. He’d looked at the phone with a serious expression before picking up and walking outside of the bullpen just as he left, _y/n_ had heard him say, “What is it, Sarah?” A half-hour later, he’d come back in the room looking even more serious than before. The strong agent moved to the stairs and took them three at a time before stopping at Hotch’s door. The man knocked once and then entered the glowing office. There had been another half-hour conversation before Morgan appeared again. This time he moved and found Spencer and Emily. They chatted in hushed whispers for a few seconds before getting the important stuff on his desk and then heading out the door and toward the elevator. _y/n_ watched all of this with veiled interest. She knew that there was an unstated rule about profiling each other, and she was so new to the team that she didn’t want to make assumptions about what was going on. 

_y/n_ didn’t have to wait long as she caught Emily speaking with Penelope in the breakroom as they were grabbing their lunches from the fridge. _y/n_ overheard a snippet of the conversation, “Yeah, it sounded serious this time. Especially if he has to fly up there. I hope it turns out okay.” _y/n_, who was preparing some _c/t_ was about to ask if she could join the conversation, but was cut off by JJ, who popped her head in the room, and said, “Hotch just called us to the conference room. New case.” Just after JJ finished speaking, the timer on the microwave dinged. Emily let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Why is there always a new case when my food is finished? Can’t these unsubs wait a half hour?” That had everyone in the room chuckle, and as Garcia and Prentiss moved their food back into the fridge, the trio of agents moved up the stairs, the liaison stated, “Given how gross this case is, Emily, I think you’ll thank Aaron for not giving you the time to eat before you see the photos.” That had everyone sober as they moved into the conference room. The team sat while Aaron and JJ set up. Hotch spoke first, and he addressed that someone important was missing. The leader of the BAU cleared his throat and said, “As most of you know, Derek won’t be joining us for this case. He had something personal come up in Chicago, and I’m not sure when he’ll be coming back. However, I have confidence that we can work as efficiently as we always do, even if a member isn’t here.” Everyone nodded. Each of them knew that things happened. They had with Gideon at the end of last year. That had been a difficult transition for all of them. But with Rossi returning to the BAU, things had settled. There was more of a reassurance with Morgan. He was coming back. With Gideon, it had been like waiting for the other show to drop. And when it had, it wasn’t pretty. Aaron began jumping into the specifics of the case, with JJ adding details about the four victims so far. The college-age men and women who had been killed were unrecognizable. The use of hydrochloric acid via syringe into the carotid artery was a terrible, terrible way to die. The tissue and skin had been eaten away by the acid, exposing gaping holes in the bodies of the deceased. There also seemed to be signs of assault on the bodies that proceeded the killings. Lastly, The slogan for Yale, which all of the victims attended, was carved into their backs and read “Lux et Veritas.” If one thing was for sure, this was a crime of passion, and whoever or whatever was getting in the way of the killer ended up looking less human and more like an over-the-top dummy from a James Wan horror film. Unsettled, JJ gave the rest of the brief and told them they could find more in their files. After a few minutes of silent reading, Hotch said, as he always did, “Wheels up in thirty. We don’t know what’s causing the unsub to strike, but they’re organized, so the quicker we get to Connecticut, the sooner we can ensure it doesn’t happen again. 

On the plane, Spencer drank his supersaturated sugar-filled coffee next to _y/n_. He kept bouncing his knee up and down in a way that _y/n_ understood to be excitement. Of course, no one on the team would voice that thought, but bizarre cases brought a set of challenges that others didn’t. They forced the team to think on their feet and move on instinct. _y/n_ looked over the Spence, realizing he was bottling up energy that he usually didn't at the start of cases. _y/n_ then understood that it was the absence of Derek that had caused the change. Normally Spence and his best friend would be bantering and tossing ideas between them. Morgan would tease Reid for the size and scope of this knowledge. _y/n_ missed the animated talking, so she initiated it herself, asking, “So, why hydrochloric acid? Is that stuff easy to get your hands on? And why all Yale students? There has got to be a connection between them, right?” This offering had Spencer off to the races, with his first comment being, “Buying that kind of acid isn’t as hard as you think. And, if you're a chemistry student or in the hard sciences, you might work with it weekly. As for the student connection, it’s possible, but there might be lots of other factors that we don’t know yet. Maybe they were in the same cohort during orientation, or maybe the unsub picked them at random. The threads tying this all together seem disparate. I hope once we’re on campus and I’ve seen a crime scene, I’ll have a better idea.” _y/n_ nodded along. Just hearing Spencer hypothesize felt special. Spencer was the closest to _y/n_ in age, and they’d bonded over that early on. _y/n_ respected everyone else on the team a great deal, but with Reid, she felt like she could relax. She wouldn’t be judged for being young or relatively naivete in this job. She always looked to him for advice. They’d slowly gotten to know each other because they spent the most time together on cases and in the bullpen. Derek had even started teasing Reid about when he was going to ask _y/n_ out. Overhearing that conversation had _y/n_ turn back the way she came in an instant. That didn’t stop Morgan from seeing how flustered _y/n_ was or how flushed Spencer's face had become. As _y/n_ reflected on that moment, she noticed with a small smile, that Reid’s leg had stopped moving. Now that he was in the thick of conversation, with his mouth struggling to keep up with his train of thought, he didn’t need to let out his anxious energy in such a physical way. _y/n_ smiled at the fact, and she leaned in a little closer to try and catch all that her teammate was saying. 

When the jet landed, Hotch made quick introductions to the campus police and then split the BAU into separate groups. Aaron wanted Reid with him as he was the most familiar with the Ivy League system, and he thought it might be helpful while speaking to the President of the university. Meanwhile, _y/n_ and Rossi would check out the first two dorms where the bodies of Charles Talbot and Shauna Mann had been found by roommates who were now in shock. JJ and Emily were going to speak with the UPD for a while longer to see if they could get some useful information out of them before JJ would work on a response for the students, faculty, and staff, and Prentiss went and surveyed the campus. It was near midterms, and although four students were dead and memorials were being held, most of the students didn’t seem to care. They were so absorbed in their studies and tests that the murders seemed to flow off their backs like water on a duck. 

That evening, after an unproductive day, in Spencer’s room, he and _y/n_ looked over the new evidence. _y/n asked him, “Hey, is it that cutthroat in a school like this that the students aren’t worried about what’s happened? Certainly, they must value their lives more than some test?” Reid looked up from his notepad and sighed. He didn’t want to sound annoying, but he knew that _y/n_ listened to him with an understanding that he didn’t get from everyone. His brain and inability to seem to form strong connections often had him feeling left out. Not on the team, or even in his daily life, but he remembered how it had felt to be so isolated and different. In his high school years, he’d cured his brain for its ability, but he also knew it was the only way out of his life. It was half-blessing, half-curse. _y/n_ tipped her head slightly. She could sense him thinking, and it was rare for Spencer to not voice his thoughts. It was so natural for him. However, there was a pause, before Reid said, “I couldn’t tell you _y/n_. College was so easy for me that it just felt like a breeze. But for normal people? I don’t. I don’t know.” _y/n_ felt a tug at this choice of words. “Normal people.” Not that it was condemning them. It was condemning himself as an unnatural person. Agent _y/l/n_ had heard Spencer do this a few times when he was stressed or out of his comfort zone. He’d ostracize himself. Sometimes it took the form of a joke, and other times, it was self-deprecating humor, like when he’d said, “Well, I can recite The Decameron in the original Latin, but I haven’t been on a date in a year, so I guess I’m the lucky one in this situation.” _y/n_ knew that Reid did it to himself as a self-comforting gesture, but some people, even in the office, had almost openly ridiculed his intelligence. It made _y/n_ so angry. Bullying was for high schoolers, not adults. And if the people who had made Reid feel othered only understood what a help he was on cases and to her as a friend, she knew they’d shut the fuck up real quick. _y/n_ looked down at the gory picture in her hand. Softly she said, “We’re all human, Spencer. Even this unsub is human. We just have different abilities, different things we’ve been through.” _y/n_ didn’t want to look up at him. She wasn’t sure it was what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t what Reid had expected, and without even thinking about it, he replied, “At least you’re a human with friends.” 

This had _y/n_ look up with surprise. She hadn’t expected what she thought to be words of comfort to end his him saying something like that. _y/n_ took in Spencer’s expression. Even he seemed shocked or ashamed at letting that inside thought out. Gently, _y/n_ placed a hand on his crossed knee and said, with as much sincerity as she could muster, “You have friends, Spencer. You have me, Derek, and Garcia. You have the whole team. And what about your chess club? You don’t have to be adrift out there if you don’t want to be.” It was the best she could think of on the spot. As she said it, Spencer seemed to relax. He knew he got in his head. That he kept things in that he shouldn’t, but hearing _y/n_ validate him had him give her a small smile. She was so reassuring to him. Often, he wasn’t sure why. People didn’t generally choose to be in his life, but _y/n_ had gone beyond being just a colleague, and now and then, he felt the tug of what was adjacent to affection and love when he was around her. Spencer hadn’t felt that in a long time, and he shied away from it whenever it bubbled uncomfortably close to the surface. Spencer felt it now in his chest and stomach. He kept it inside like so much else in his life. Instead of addressing his feelings, he said, “I appreciate you reminding me of that _y/n_. You’re a good friend to me.” _y/n_ beamed at him and said, “You got it, Spence. I’ll remind you anytime you need.” Seeing _y/n_’s smile had Reid flushed, and he pulled a victim’s picture in front of him to distract himself. He couldn’t let his feelings get the best of him. Especially not on a case. Thankfully, his strategy worked, and he regained his composure. _y/n_ and he spent most of the night trying and testing theories and possibilities on the other. Even though nothing massive had happened, there seemed to be a shift in the air, pulling them closer together, in unknowable ways. When _y/n_ got back to her motel room, she got a call from Derek. The one where he asked her to speak from him, and _y/n_ said yes because it was a privilege that she didn’t fully understand. Morgan encouraged her and said that she could call him if she needed help. With that, Morgan hung up the phone, leaving _y/n_ excited about the possibility yet nervous at the prospect of speaking to so many people. 

The next day, a new body was found in Harkness Hall. The building was cleared of students, and the team spent the morning looking over the place from top to bottom. None of the students seemed to see anything odd, which could mean that the unsub had to live in the building and come in so late that everyone was asleep on that floor. This time, however, the killer had made an error. They had left traces behind, like hair and some dark flecks of navy paint that looked pretty distinct. It became clear to the team that the unsub was losing control of their anger as this victim, Bobby Ashten, hadn’t been injected with the acid but doused in it instead. There were also traces of formaldehyde in the mix. Why the added substance, no one could say yet. The sight and smell were so bad that the coroner and the police had to step out a few times to stop themselves from vomiting and contaminating the crime scene. It took a long time for the evidence to be bagged and tagged. Halfway through the process, a member of the UPD informed Aaron that the victim’s girlfriend, who was in hysterics, was outside demanding to come in. Hotch sent _y/n_ and JJ to try and calm the girl down and get a statement if it felt appropriate. If not, then get her to a counselor and get her contact information for later. JJ and _y/n_ took a deep breath once they were outside. They stripped their faces of the N-95 masks and latex gloves. They both felt relief from being outside of that room and building. The sun swept over the two agents, as they walked toward the young woman who was still crying. Kitty looked up at the approaching agents. Kitty’s face was streaked with tears. JJ moved forward first and said, “Hey, Ms. Kincade. My name’s Jennifer Jareau. I’m with the FBI. Agent _y/n_ and I are here to see how you’re doing. I’m afraid we can’t let you in to see your boyfriend, but we want to let you know that we’re here for you and that we’re doing everything we can to catch the guy who did this to Bobby.” Kitty sniffled, and her sadness seemed to turn to rage as she said, “It’s not a guy. It’s that crazy ex-girlfriend of Bob’s - Jenni. I told him to stop hanging out with her. She was like five years older than him, and it was gross. I fucking told him, but did he listen to me? No. He never listens to me. I kept inviting her to hangouts and parties and everything, and then, Jen ingratiated herself into his life so much that I couldn’t get her out. I know I shouldn’t have slept with Bobby when he was still dating her, but he was miserable. I thought I was doing him a favor. Look what good it did me. He’s fucking dead now.” Kitty burst into tears again, and JJ moved forward to embrace her. 

As the media liaison hugged the grieving girl, JJ could feel _y/n_ thinking a  mile a minute behind her. J knew that _y/n_ was as quick-witted as Spencer, just not as talkative. After a moment, _y/n_ asked gently, “Did you talk to Bobby every day? Did Jenni talk or text to him?” Kincade nodded and said, “I was always texting him. He never left me unread. That’s why I knew something was wrong last night. He didn’t text back for two hours, and he knows I hated that.” _y/n_ nodded. As cruel as it sounded in a moment like this, Kitty came across as insecure. Her clothing, demeanor, and intonation told _y/n_ that Kitty needed Mr. Drew for support and validation. _y/n_ got it. She’d felt the same way before herself when she was younger. However, the teary-eyed student hadn’t answered her second question, and _y/n_ gently prodded, “And did Jenni talk to Bob a lot? Did you ever feel like she was trying to get back together with him?” The anger was back in _y/n_’s face as she straightened up and out of JJ’s embrace. Kitty clenched her jaw before saying, “Hell yes she did. She texted him almost as much as I did. She acted like she was still his fucking girlfriend and not me. And they saw each other consistently too. They’re both in the nursing program and it’s brutal work. He relied on her to study with. She’s a TA and all so she could help him out. I know I’m not one to judge, I’m just a journalism major, but Bob procrastinated everything and I think he thought he could go to her and get all the answers. I told him not to, but like I said, he never listened to me.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I’m sorry to hear that he put you through that, and I’m sorry for your loss.” Kitty nodded, seeming to have calmed down from her hyper-emotional state. _y/n_ just needed to ask two more questions before she could let JJ continue her comfort and tell Kitty everything she needed to know. _y/n_ cleared her throat and said, “Kitty, just a few more things and I’ll let you talk to Ms. Jareau., “First, what’s Jenni’s last name, and do you know where Bobby was before he stopped texting you?” The student seemed to swallow back bile as she said, “Jenni, Jenni Foster. And Bobby was with her. He was supposed to have a big anatomy test today and they both went to the cadaver lab together. I wasn’t cool with it, but Bob promised me he’d be back by midnight.” _y/n_ nodded empathetically and said, “I’m sure he wanted to get back to you, Kitty. I know he would have if he could.” _y/n_ looked over to JJ and the media liaison nodded, knowing that _y/n_ had a lot to relay to the team. With JJ’s gentle nod, _y/n_ walked out past Kitty’s eyesight. Once this was the case, she sprinted back into the building. _y/n_ beeped into the dorm with her temporary ID and rushed to the elevator. As the metal box opened with a ding, _y/n_ pressed for floor fifteen. _y/n_ couldn’t be sure that Jenni Foster was the unsub, but something inside _y/n_ shot a pang of dread through her At least this was another lead if nothing else. Just outside the elevator to the floor of the crime scene. _y/n_ slipped on some latex gloves and a new mask. 

As soon as _y/n_ entered the room Aaron’s eyes turned to her. Through his mask, Hotch asked, “Any leads?” Hotch sounded as desperate as she had felt for an excuse to get out of the newest crime scene. _y/n_ nodded, catching his drift. She replied, “I’ve got a possible unsub, Jenni Foster, and a possible location for the last death.” Hearing this, everyone seemed to relax. It meant a chance to get out of the dorm. Hotch thought for a second and said, “Alright, Emily and I will try and find Ms. Foster, _y/n_ and Spencer, go to the last known location of the victim.” Aaron turned to look at Rossi, trying to give him an option for escape. David had already thought of what he could do and replied, “I can go and inform the president and the chief of the UPD, and I’ll call Garcia to see what she can dig up on Foster.” Hotch nodded and said, “Alright. Hopefully, this will give us some much-needed answers.” The team rode the elevator down to the ground floor. Aaron and Em moved toward the parked SUV in one of the reserved faculty spots, and Spencer asked, “Fill me in on what Kitty said.” _y/n_ took his elbow, as Reid tried to move up campus and not toward the School of Medicine. Spencer followed her lead, realizing he had no idea where they were headed. As the duo descended the stairs, _y/n_ replied, “Kitty said that Bobby had an ex-girlfriend who might have taken things to a bit of an extreme. Apparently, they were both in the nursing program and Bobby relied a lot on her for help even after she’d broken up with him.” Hearing this, Spencer cringed. He might not be the best at reading emotions, but he knew that was a no-go. Reid looked over at _y/n_, as they moved toward the south side of campus. He asked, “Are we sure, Kitty’s not the person we’re looking for?” _y/n_ shook her head and said, “It’s always a possibility, but she seemed pretty dependent on Bobby. I don’t know why she’d want to kill him. He cheated on Jenni with her and then left Jenni for Kitty. That’s why I think it’s Ms. Foster. We were saying that this was a crime of passion. What’s more passionate than a cheating boyfriend? Plus, Jenni and Bobby were in the cadaver lab last night, allegedly studying for a test. It feels like a little too much of a coincidence for it to just be nothing.” Spence nodded in agreement. Now that he knew where they were headed, he said, “You know we’re all susceptible to crimes of passion. Fifteen percent more than other crimes. Factor in the young age of college students brains not being fully developed, I’m surprised that we don’t see more issues on college campuses.” _y/n_ stopped Reid as he reached for the door and said, “Should we get UPD to come with us? What if Jenni’s here and does something drastic?” Reid pondered the question and said, “I doubt she’d go back to the scene so soon. We don’t even know if this is the scene. It’s a big plot point in mystery novels that killers go back to the site because no one would expect that, but it rarely happens. Generally, criminals are too concerned that they’ll be found or act strangely and then be suspected. Let’s just be on the lookout.” _y/n_ nodded and they moved into the building that held the cadavers of the Yale School of Medicine. 

Inside the cool, sleek building, _y/n_ and Spencer went up to the department office and flashed their badges. The student worker grabbed the head of the department. After a minute of waiting in the office, a sharply dressed woman came out, shook both of their hands and said, “Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Peters, Dean of Yale Medical School.” The woman extended a hand to both agents and ushered them into her office. Nobody sat and there was an air of tension in the room. Spencer took the lead on the conversation as the agent with the most experience. Reid stated, “If we can, Agent _y//l/n_ and I would like to see the cadaver lab. We have reason to believe that it might have been the last known location of Bobby Ashten. We understand that he was a student of the program.” When the words registered, Dr. Peter’s face shifted from one of discomfort to anger. She stated, “Well I’m sure that’s not possible. All of our students are highly vetted before entry into the program.” Reid and _y/n_ noticed the shift in tone and Spencer said, “It’s possible that it’s not a student on the school that ended up attacking Mr. Ashten, we just got a tip that his last known location was the cadaver lab last night. Could you tell us who has access to that space?” Peters seemed to calm slightly as Spencer noted that the unsub might not be a part of the department. _y/n_ gave him a little nod at de-escalating the situation. After a brief silence, the dean replied, “Access to that lab is granted to instructors and TAs only. The bodies are taken out for class demonstrations. There’s a sign-in sheet at the door on the third floor. Those who deal with the bodies have special qualifications. If someone did allow a student in there it would be highly unethical.” Now _y/n_ jumped in and said, “Yes, it would be. Dr. Reid and I are just trying to be thorough and precise like the department has to be with its students and protocols. I know you’d rather have this looked at and cleared up now instead of waiting till later in the year.” Peters nodded with some hesitation and said, “Fine, take a look at the lab. I’ll send a TA down to let you in, just follow their instructions to a tee.” Both Spencer and _y/n_ nodded in agreement. Dr. Peters called for a TA to wait by the cadaver lab. After this, she ushered them back into the main office and told the student worker behind the desk, “Please escort our guests to Lab 308. Answer any questions they might have.” Just as the trio was about to leave, Peters said, “And Agents, if you should need any help with anything, don’t hesitate to ask me personally.” The Spencer and _y/n_  thanked her and shook her hand before being led out by the student worker. 

Neither agent spoke much as they made their way to the third-floor lab. The student worker seemed to be giving an informal tour like she had been told to show off the department and its most prestigious alumni and features. To not make it awkward for the woman, _y/n_ or Spencer would comment or ask a relevant question to fill in the silence. Finally, they made it to the third floor and lab 308. The student halted and said, “This is Barry Whitehouse, one of our second-year TAs. He’ll let you into the lab and tell you all of the protocols.” With that, the young woman walked with urgency away from the group. _y/n_ looked at Spencer for a second, and they had a silent conversation. They both knew they were being watched and monitored. _y/n_ took the lead on this conversation, as the TA was looking at her with an expression that said he liked what he saw. Even though it made her skin crawl, _y/n_ extended a hand, saying, “Agent _y/n_. It’s nice to meet you.” _y/n_ even went as far as moving her free hand to flip her jacket to the side so Barry could see her badge. The man’s eyes were wide with awe like he’d stumbled across the fountain of youth and not some newbie FBI agent. _y/n_ had to stop herself from laughing. She hid the sound as a cough and quickly pulled her hand back from Mr. Whitehouse’s. _y/n_ pointed to Spencer and said, “And this is my partner, Dr. Reid.” Spence raised a hand in a half gesture of welcome. Barry frowned back at him. Sensing the tension, _y/n_ diverted the attention back to herself. In a voice laced with faux honey, she said, “So, we kinda need to get in the lab. Can you tell us what we need to know before going in there?” Barry’s attention snapped back to her, and he said, “Oh, yeah,” like he’d forgotten why he’d been called down from his office in the first place. The man cleared his throat and said, “Well it’s pretty basic stuff, wear gloves at all times, keep your hair back. You can pull the bodies out unless there’s red tape on the handle of the gurney. Looking is fine, but in no way are you to touch the bodies. No photography of any kind unless you have a warrant and lastly, you both need to sign the log at the door.” _y/n_ sent him another fake smile and led Spencer to the door before Barry could say anything else. She tossed gloves at Spencer while she signed the logbook. _y/n_ pulled her gloves over her hands and stepped into the lab after Reid. Barry seemed too shocked to state that he should go in with them to make sure they followed the department's standard procedure. 

Inside the sterile lab where the dead mingled with the living, _y/n_ and Spencer both slumped back against the wall. It felt like hours since they had been alone to just talk and run ideas around like they normally did on a crime scene. They both took a moment to compose themselves while they looked around the space. _y/n_ looked at the dead bodies and said, “Dr. Peters was so passive-aggressive. Good job on talking her down. What was that with he offering to help us at the end?” Spencer who was looking in the cabinets and drawers said, “It's all about funding and reputation at these schools. She was probably offended at the insinuation that something like what happened to Bobby did in her department, but in the end, it would look even worse if she seemed to be interfering in the investigation. Thus the change in tone.” Spencer took a breath and said, “And good on you for distracting Mr. TA out there.” For some reason _y/n_ heard a hint of jealousy in Reid’s words, but she didn’t read into it. Instead, she just said, “That was light work. I have a way of getting people flustered no matter what I do. But I think we won’t be alone for long. Barry will probably be in here in a minute or two.” Spencer bit his lip, as he looked around for a second and stated, “I don’t think we’ll find anything here.” _y/n_ looked at him dumbfounded and asked, “Why? We’ve only been in here for a few minutes and Jenni’s name was on the log outside. She was the last person in here.” Spencer’s sharp eyes caught _y/n_’s and he said, “Well, they might have been in here, but not for long. For one there’s no blue paint on any of these walls, and we found that on the body. And secondly,” Spence paused as if for dramatic effect, “There’s no formaldehyde. There is hydrochloric acid in the cabinets, but why keep the two separate if they were found together on Bobby?” _y/n_ pondered the puzzle and said, “It doesn’t make any sense. Not with the paint and the chemicals. This building is brand spanking new. The student worker told us.” Spencer nodded and said, “Exactly, and a brand new building means an old abandoned one as well.” As _y/n_ looked at Reid, he had the excited look of having a new idea look on his face. When he held the door open for _y/n_, she didn’t question his logic. She didn’t have time to try and read him as he followed after her out the door. 

Barry looked startled at their sudden reappearance. Reid approached the man and said, “Do you have a key to the old medical building down the hill and across the street? The one that’s set to be demolished at the end of the term?” The TA mumbled, “Well yes, but no one goes in there but staff now. There’s still some stuff that needs to be transferred over to this building. That place is a dump, really. It should be torn down.” Spencer nodded along and said, “Can I borrow your key? Just for an hour, I swear it could be important to the investigation. Don’t you want to help stop what’s been happening on campus?” Mr. Whitehouse looked uncertain and then moved his half-scared eyes to _y/n_’s _y/c/y/_’s ones. _y/n_ gave him a reassuring smile and the man took off his lanyard from his neck. Barry unclipped an old-looking key from his carabiner and instead of handing it to Spencer, brushed past the genius and placed it in _y/n_’s outstretched palm instead. _y/n_ thanked him, and as she moved to leave the new shiny building, she said, “Thanks, Barry. Hey, say, where’s the cadaver lab in the old building?” The TA replied softly, “The basement I think, G02.” Before the man could get another word in edgewise, _y/n_ and Spencer were darting out of the building and down the hill toward the old side of campus. As they half-jogged toward the new space with anticipation, _y/n_ asked, “How did you know about the old building? It wasn’t on any maps of campus that I saw.” Spencer replied as they moved across a busy street, “I noticed it in the newsletter outside yesterday when I was looking around. Something about an old building on campus being demolished soon. So I asked Garcia about it and she sent me the information. As soon as I heard it was the old school of medicine it piqued my interest.” _y/n_ looked at him bewildered with how smart Dr. Reid was. However, she didn’t have time to comment on it as she reached the door of the dilapidated building that was soon to be torn down. The outside facade read: Yale School of Medicine” in fading letters. From the outside, it looked like there was no working electricity inside. The thought of going in there sent a cold chill up her spine. Spencer seemed ready to go, and _y/n_ handed him the key saying, “I’m just going to shoot The team a text letting him know where we are. I don’t trust that texts will get out once we’re in there.” Reid nodded and replied, “Good idea,” as he slipped the key into the lock. _y/n_ shot off the message as she followed Spence’s hurried steps inside. Once the door was closed behind them, _y/n_ felt like the world had closed off behind her. The air was stale and foul. Even just a few steps from the door the light seemed to fade dimmer and dimmer. Spencer stopped at a directory and emergency map of the building's layout. _y/n_ flashed her phone’s flashlight on the map and Spence traced the path to the old cadaver lab in the basement. 

The idea of going into the bowels of the building had _y/n_ on edge, but she wasn’t going to let Spencer go alone. Reid looked at her and swallowed. _y/n_ could see he was nervous too and said, “Keep on the lookout.” With that, as if to still his fear, Spencer moved to the end of the long hallway and down the stairs to the basement level of the building. They both had their phone flashlights out trying to light the gloomy space. The silence and darkness was oppressive. Neither _y/n_ nor Reid wanted to talk as they pierced the dark. Even small sounds of the air conditioning or mice in the air vents had both of the agents spooked. _y/n_ remembered how the pictures of the bodies reminded her of a horror movie, and this was no different. She didn’t want to think of dying in a place like this. It was too awful to imagine. Although the building wasn’t that old, the bottom floor seemed more disused and old than the first floor. It felt like something out of a bad dream. The floors were dusty and the paint was peeling from humidity that had probably sprouted mold. Slowly they made it to the old lab. The door opened with a terrible squeak, letting anyone in the basement know that they were there. Unfortunately for them, the person whom Spencer hadn’t expected to see was waiting for them on the other side of the door. Just as Reid stepped into the tomb-like room, he was hit on the head with a metal tray. The lean agent stumbled back into _y/n_ who dropped her phone. Right as Spence moaned in pain, a set of strong hands pushed _y/n_ back into the far wall. _y/n_ clawed at her assailant, but it did no good, she got the same metal tray to the head that had incapacitated Spencer. The feeling of a cold needle inserted into _y/n_’s arm stilled her movements entirely. 

_y/n_ woke up to her head spinning. There was a light bulb somewhere above her, but it seemed to be swimming in the air. Its apparent swinging motion made _y/n_ feel sick to her stomach. Everything seemed so bright and dark at the same time. _y/n_ bit back any painful sound or bile from rising in her mouth. After a few minutes, _y/n_ could see more clearly. _y/n_ assessed the situation and realized that she was strapped to a metal chair. Her arms and legs were strapped to her sides and legs to that of the chairs' metal legs. _y/n_ lolled her head to the side and noticed Spencer similarly strapped to a metal table. His arms and legs were held tight by restraints. His shirt had been removed and _y/n_ wanted to look away to respect his privacy. _y/n_ also wanted to ask if he was okay. If anything had happened to him yet. _y/n_’s desire was cut short as a young woman moved into the stark space. _y/n_ now noticed the chipping navy paint, and she realized that this must be where the murders had taken place. _y/n_ took a breath and the woman standing in front of them said, “You’re finally awake. Good. I took your badges and guns. You won’t need them now. When I’m finished with you both you won’t be recognizable anyway. Did you think you were going to catch me down here? On my turf?” Jenni sounded cocky like she had her system down to a T. Spencer took a labored breath and said, “What, what do you plan on doing with us?” There was just a hint of fear in his voice. _y/n_ understood it. He was the one strapped up and disrobed, not her. Jenni gave a cold laugh and said, “I’m gonna cut you up of course. Put the motto of this fucking school on your back and then show that bitch Kitty just how wrong she is by making you as fucking ugly as that bastard you left me for a good-for-nothing whore in sophomore year. I gave him everything. And how does he repay me? By cheating on a dumb blonde that can’t even pass a biology test.” The weight of Jenni’s delusion and obsessiveness sat with _y/n_ as she watched the woman pull a glinting scalpel from a rotten drawer in the room and approach Spencer. It seemed she transferred her anger at being cheated onto her victims. And they were her latest. For one moment _y/n_ wanted to thrash and scream and close her eyes to everything around her. This didn’t feel fair. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for when she joined the BAU. It felt like being pushed into the lockers in high school for something she hadn’t done. And then it clicked. All of this, was so, so very high school, and if she could lean into that, maybe, just maybe she could buy time. Without even thinking, _y/n_ said, “Are you really so insecure that you had to kill other people too? Why not just Bobby and Kitty? They were the ones that fucked you over, right?” _y/n_’s statement had Jenni turn on her heel. A rage filled her face, turning it red as she retorted, “Well that wouldn’t be any fun now, would it? I could just kill them, but watching them suffer was so much better. I got rid of Bobby’s friends first, and he came crawling to me for support, not his little bitch. He never knew until it was too late, bless him. Then seeing Kitty’s face this morning when she found out he was dead, I could have framed it and put it on my mantle. I might still actually.” There was s tense silence before Jenni said, “But you’re just trying to distract me. I’m going to do your friend's first agent _y/l/n_ and then I’m going to do you, and I’ll make you watch just so you know what’s going to happen to you in a few minutes.” _y/n_ struggled against the zip ties that were holding her down, as she attempted to think of anything to stop Jenni from carving into the skin of Spencer’s back. Jenni started saying, “Lux et Veritas” over and over again as if steeling herself for what she was about to do. “This is about spite and insecurity,” _y/n_’s brain whispered to her. And did _y/n_ know a thing or two about insecurity? 

The words came unbidden, and _y/n_ said, “You know for a killer you’re really stupid. Dr. Reid didn’t go to Yale, he went to Stanford. But I guess you didn’t do your research huh Like you didn’t notice those bottles of formaldehyde over on the counter over there. So unless you’re ready to cut Die Luft der Freiheit Weht into Dr. Reid here, I think you’re shit out of luck. Just like you were in getting Bobby back..” Those words had the effect _y/n_ wanted on Jenni, but the outpouring of anger streaming from the woman with the knife left _y/n_ speechless for a moment as Jenni turned to face her. The unsub said, “Look at you fucking smart ass. What if I fixed your face before I end your partner? I could cut out your tongue and you wouldn’t be able to make any more smart quips. I bet you were always the center of attention. Well, no one will look at or hear you when I’m done. Of course, I’m saying that hypothetically. You’ll both be dead when I’m finished with you.” Jenni swiped the knife right in front of _y/n_’s face and the agent felt the blade just gash her brow. The wound could have been much, much worse. And _y/n_ expected it to be as Jenni stepped closer and said, “Now hold still and it won’t be so bad for you. I promise. I’ve done this loads of times. Except those were dead people and you’re not. So just act dead for a few minutes.” _y/n_ flinched and closed her eyes. Trying to picture anything that might comfort her and not what was actually happening. Perhaps her plans of distracting Foster from hurting Spencer had worked too well. But as _y/n_ reflected in a split second, _y/n_ realized it would be all worth it if he didn’t get hurt. Dr. Reid had a similar line of thought and said, “You hate cheaters, right Jenni? You don’t care about some girl who makes you feel othered. Your real issue is with people who betray those they claim to love. Well if you’re looking for someone to punish it’s me. I’m that guy. I can’t keep a girlfriend even though I’ve had plenty. They just grow stale to me. I’m never happy. Don’t blame _y/n_ for that. She’s always stood by me as I threw her feelings in her face time and time again.” Reid’s comments threw Jenni for a loop and she kept rocking back and forth not knowing who to get first. Who had done the worst thing in her mind? Even though _y/n_ had gawked at Spence’s statement, she caught on quickly to his strategy. First, he’d never had a girlfriend that she knew about, and second, he’d never, ever told her that he was interested in her, even though she was interested in him. And that was the game. Lie to Jenni, and keep her off balance enough to not let her get to either of them. Thankfully neither of the agents had to come up with more lies as the door to the room burst open. It was Hotch, Rossi, and Emily, plus a few LEOs from the UPD. Jenni was too stunned to move as Dave rushed in and took her hands, pulling them behind her back. Meanwhile, Aaron moved to Spencer to free him of his binds while Emily helped _y/n_ out of her zip ties. _y/n_ felt overwhelmed but rushed to Spence once he was free. She didn’t want to require comfort from him, but she needed it. They had some close to a bad end, and she didn’t even notice that he still hadn’t put his shirt back on yet. She pressed her face to his warm chest which was bare and heaving with the ordeal he had also been through. 

That realization hadn’t hit her until the stark red and blue lights were flashing from an ambulance in the bright light of day. While Hotch explained how he’d had a bad feeling about them going into the building alone. To _y/n_ it didn’t feel right to be outside in the daylight with JJ and Emily standing by her side as the paramedics looked over her and Reid. Nothing seemed to feel right after the cavernous dark that was the old med building. The fact that it was still daylight juxtaposed to the literal and metaphorical dark from before jarred _y/n_ in a way that she hadn’t expected. The medical professionals cleared both Spencer and _y/n_ after giving _y/n_ a bandaid for the cut on her face. 

The flight home felt strange as the team tried to decompress. _y/n_ felt a weight of inadequacy like she’d let things happen to her instead of initiating the action herself. And it had all happened so quickly with Jenni. _y/n_ sat with her thoughts at the back of the plane. Now and then she’d peek a glance at Spencer who was spread out across one of the couches sleeping. Sometimes _y/n_ thought that the jet was the only place she saw him sleep. Most of the time he was like a ball of nervous energy just waiting to be let out somehow. _y/n_ would walk with him on Sunday mornings, and he’d talk about how he’d stayed up all night reading a new ancient text online, or how he’d been the last person at the library just as they closed. And during the week if _y/n_ tossed and turned, she’d call Spence up and ask him what he was doing. Or she’d try and think about the most random question, like how many cows there were in Iowa, or what was the shortest river in Europe, and who decided what was a river and what was a stream. He always had an answer for her silly questions. He would talk long enough that she would fall back asleep with her face pressed into the covers and Reid still talking until he was sure she was asleep. Just once, _y/n_ had thought that Spencer had made up some fact or figure just to fill the quiet space in the night. So she could finally rest. She hadn’t asked him about it after. She knew she was just lucky to have him as a friend. Now as Spencer dreamt and she doubted, it felt weird. _y/n_’s train of thought was interrupted as Rossi sat across from her with a small groan. Dave looked at how tired _y/n_ appeared and said, “What’s eating you, kid?” Rossi’s affectionate nickname always brought a smile to _y/n_’s face and this was no exception, except it slipped quickly after. _y/n_ rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and said, “I don't know Rossi. I didn’t feel like a profiler back there. I felt like a kid. What’s the point of all the training and stuff if you feel too scared when you really should be doing your job?” Dave nodded in understanding and said, “_y/n_, we all freeze. All of us. Don’t think you’re some rare exception to that. But when it came to it, you did act. One doesn’t have to feel like a profiler to profile. Nobody was calling Howard Teten a profiler when he came up with the method we use, and yet he still did it. Profiling is less about fancy words and techniques and more about trusting your gut when things get hairy. And you did just that. You realized that provoking the unsub would distract her from Spencer. And I’m sure Dr. Reid would be happy to tell you that he’s relieved he didn’t leave that situation with a permanent mark of Yale or Stanford’s mottos carved into his back.” That had _y/n_ chuckle and Rossi was happy to see her lighten up a bit. The older man stood and just before he moved to take his seat across from Aaron again, he said, “Remember kid, in the end, we’re all just base instincts. Just things filled with wants and needs No one can fight them, not even Spencer Reid.” Rossi patted her shoulder and left her wide-eyed and speechless. Was Rossi, Rossi hitting on her on Spencer's behalf? _y/n_ had to move to the bathroom to not let anyone see how flustered she was at the soft comment. 

In the small space, _y/n_ splashed cold water on her face. She looked into the mirror at her appearance. She’d hoped that she couldn’t be read that easily. She’d hidden her feelings for Spencer from everyone, especially Reid. If he’d caught on, he hadn’t said anything about it. _y/n_ sent up a prayer that no one else had noticed apart from Rossi. She didn’t have the bandwidth to think about it right now and she couldn’t stay holed up in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. _y/n_ took a deep breath, straightened her _y/f/c_ shirt, and then moved back into the cabin of the plane. When she got back to her seat the wave of exhaustion she had been waiting to hit her for the last hour and a half finally did. As she let sleep take her, she wondered if it was possible that Spencer loved her back. She doubted it. When the jet landed back in Quantico, it was dark and sleeting outside. The winter weather just wasn’t ready to let go yet. It wouldn’t for at least another month. As everyone piled into the bullpen, shaking off the cold, Spencer approached _y/n_ and said, “I’ll drive you home if you're ready.” _y/n_ looked up from her go bag and said, “You don’t have to do that Spence. I can take the tube. My place is in the opposite direction from yours.” Reid rolled his eyes and said, “I know that, _y/n_.” It’s not like he hadn’t driven her home every chance he got without it being too obvious that he had a crush on her. They always had this dance of her saying no but then giving in when he’d just wait around her desk. It wasn’t any different this night. Reid didn’t like the idea of _y/n_ taking a bus, and then a long train ride to her home every night. It wasn’t just the high rate of accidents that happened on public transport and a crumbling infrastructure system, but the people she might see there. Reid wasn’t one for catastrophizing but he just didn’t want _y/n_out there where anything could happen to her. His mind flashed to the case and how Jenni had held the scalpel at _y.n_. ; promising to “fix her.” At that moment in the dark, the last thing he was thinking about was himself. The scene was eating at his insides like acid. It took _y/n_ tapping him on the shoulder and saying, “I’m ready now if the offer’s still valid.” Spencer nodded and they both walked out into the night. 

On the twenty-minute drive back to her place there was silence until Reid asked, “What are you doing once you get home?” _y/n_ looked at him with some surprise. He didn’t normally ask her about what she did outside of work. She assumed he just wasn’t interested, thus why she thought he didn’t have feelings for her. _y/n_ replied, “I don’t know. Probably have _y/f/f/f_ delivered and watch _y/f/f/g/m_. I need a good light-hearted distraction after that case.” She then turned the question on him and said, “How about you?” Spencer flipped on the turn signal and smoothly took his car on the wide turn that led to _y/n_’s street. He stole a glance at her and then back at the road before saying, “Probably do some reading. And I need to call my mom. I do it on the second of every month. I have to call her on even days of the month. She gets angry if I don’t.” Hearing the date had something snap in _y/n_. She muttered, “Oh God, it’s the second already?” Spencer looked at her concerned and said, “_y/n_, what’s the matter?” _y/n_ took her hands from her head and said, “I have that lecture to give in two days for Derek. I completely forgot about it with the case.” The lecture was sounding more and more like a pain, especially now that she would have to write it in just two days. Reid said, “I could stay and help you if you like?” _y/n_ nodded her head no and said, “Thanks Spence, but I’ll figure it out. I just gotta have a cup of c/t_ or an energy drink or something.” Even as the word left her, _y/n_’s heart ached. She wanted Reid’s help so much, needed it. But he looked so tired. More than usual. _y/n_ knew the incident in the lab had shaken him up like it had her, but he was just better at hiding it. Also, _y/n_ felt that if they were couped up in her tiny overpriced studio apartment together she’d do something she’d regret. Something that she wouldn’t ever be able to take back. Rossi’s comment on the plane wasn’t helping her think clearly, and she needed a clear head to write this stupid lecture. _y/n_ didn’t notice the little tug of concern on Spence’s lips as he pulled in front of her building. He just said, “Okay, _y/n_. Well, I’ll give you a ring after I call my mom and see how you’re doing. Okay?” _y/n_ nodded and took her bag from Reid’s hand. She very quickly said goodbye and thanked him, as she almost sprinted out of the car. She was beginning to feel a headache come on and if she stayed a moment longer she would invite him and I’d all be over. She couldn’t sacrifice the great friendship she had built with him for a fling that might not pan out. Holed up in her space, _y/n_ let whatever emotions she had flooded over her and she dropped her bag with a thud and crawled into bed for an hour. It was Spencer’s call that got her up and to work with what she assumed was going to be the worst N.A.T. lecturer of all time. 

_y/n_ had shown up at the office with a persistent headache and a half-shod draft of what she hoped she could shape into a lecture by the end of the day. Five hours after her arrival, Spencer was making comments that she didn’t understand and weren’t exactly encouraging sounding. _y/n_ stood and said, “Alright Spence. Let me see it, you’re not annotating Chaucer after all.” Reid looked up at her, pen still in hand. _y/n_ didn’t sound pleased and he wasn't sure why. He handed her lecture back to her and watched her face contort slightly at what he thought were very helpful notes. _y/n_ let out a breath and sat on the edge of Spence’s desk. His comments might be copious and slightly annoying, but he was still offering to help her which she was grateful for. She’d have to say she was sorry for being so snippy, but she didn’t feel a hundred percent and it was showing in her actions. However, the apology never had a chance to be voiced as Reid’s comments began to swim in front of _y/n_’s eyes, the bright and happy voices of Em, JJ, and Garcia cut through the haze. _y/n_ looked over at the group. Emily said, “We’re getting drinks at the bar down the street. Y’all should come with us. It’s past five and we deserve a drink after that case.” _y/n_ opened her mouth to say no, but Penelope cut her off saying, “All work and no play makes _y/n_ a dull girl. Now, do you want to be a dull girl in front of the NATs tomorrow?” _y/n_ shook her head and let out a laugh at Garcia’s logic. As cliche as it was, _y/n_ couldn’t argue with it. The _y/h/c_ed agent put her hands up in surrender and said, “Alright, alright. I’m coming.” That got a cheer from the group. _y/n_ looked over at Spencer and said, “You coming?” Reid wanted to say no, to just keep working for a while longer, but _y/n_’s strange behavior and the pleading look she was giving him had him cave and agree too. _y/n_ dropped her lecture notes on her desk as she grabbed her purse and left with the group. The five agents drove in Emily’s and JJ’s cars to the strip of bars near the Quantico Field office. As everyone clamored into a booth at the iconic South of DC Bar, Garcia said, “I can’t wait for the weather to get better and for it to be light out later. Winter gives me the ick big time.” Everyone laughed and agreed. A waiter came and got their first round of drinks. _y/n_ wasn’t planning on drinking a lot due to her engagement in the morning and Spencer only got water. He wanted to make sure there was at least one person sober to drive them back if need be. _y/n_ stuck to her plans and just had one other drink which was a shot, paid for by Penelope. Garcia, JJ, and Em had finally gotten _y/n_ and Spencer out together, but the plan to get the two, young, agents together wasn’t working as they hoped. The fact that _y/n_ wasn’t drunk enough to ask how her dating life was going to steer the conversion in that direction. Spencer also seemed to have something on his mind as he sipped his water and didn’t seem that invested in the conversation the group was having. Of course, Em, JJ, and Pen couldn’t know that he was replaying the scene from his car over and over again in his head. He wondered if he’d said something to piss _y/n_ off. She’d been acting differently since they’d arrived home. Reid knew he could be blunt, and come off as uncaring, but last night he’d tried at tenderness, and _y/n_’s response seemed to confirm that she wasn’t interested in him like that. Not like he wanted them to be. 

The evening seemed like a bust, as the group closed out and moved toward their cars. They had to park a few streets over as the bar crowd picked up right after work in the inner city. As the group moved toward their vehicles, the sound of five guys in an alley across the road caught the profilers’ attention. _y/n_ looked through the gloom and noticed the men huddled around a woman who seemed to be very drunk, or even drugged. The sight had a hard pit form in _y/n_’s stomach. Rossi had talked about instinct and desire, and _y/n_ knew the men surrounding the helpless women had a bad desire. Desire was one thing, but when it went bad, it went really bad as evidenced by Jenni. _y/n_ wouldn’t stand it. She wasn’t going to let this just happen to a stranger. Emily had seen the same thing and both agents quickly ran across the road avoiding a car. Prentiss shouted, “Hey. get your hands off her. Back off!” The group of men turned. One smiled with terrible teeth and said, “Look fellows, some girls want to join the fun.” _y/n_ could have spat with anger at being called a girl. She held back her fury and said, “You heard my friend, get the fuck off of her.” The apparent leader of the group said, “Well men. Looks like we have a fighter. Try and make me babe.” The tall man couldn’t have expected to be thrown against the wall and away from the woman he’d been harassing. The leader, snapped up in anger for being manhandled even though that was what he’d just been doing himself. The rage surged in him and he stepped forward. He was significantly taller than _y/n_ and it didn’t take much for him to slam _y/n_ into the wall she had pushed him into. As he gripped _y/n_’s _l/m/s_ hair at the base he growled, “You little whore. I’ll show you what happens when a cunt gets in my way.” The man pressed his body to her’s pinning her to the wall. He then grabbed her head and smashed it into the brick wall. If _y/n_ had thought her head hurt before in the office it didn’t even compare on a scale with what she was feeling now. Everything went black for a second and her body slumped against the wall. 

Spencer watched it all happen before he could do anything because the cars now wouldn’t stop coming. He cringed as _y/n_’s face got bashed into the wall. He watched as Emily moved in to help and pulled the guy away before being hit too. Finally, the cars stopped because of the red light up ahead, and Spencer shouted at JJ, “Call the cops,” as he sprinted across the road and past a stalled car. Reid booked it across the road. When he was a foot from the scene, he used the strongest voice he had to say “Federal Agent, break it up right now.” Spencer channeled Derek and Aaron as much as he could, as he pushed one of the men off Emily. The leader looked up and said, “Yeah, yeah beanpole. Show me a badge and I’ll believe you.” Reid let out a heavy breath, pulled out his badge, and flashed it around to the men who were now moving slowly back into the alley. The group noticed as JJ and Garcia ended up on their side of the street, flashing their badges. The last straw was when Emily got up and showed her badge too. The flashing of police lights had the group scatter like flies. JJ stepped forward and helped the woman who had been harassed up and toward the first police car that arrived while Spencer knelt next to _y/n_ and Emily. _y/n_was stirring back to wakefulness and the pain stunned her into groaning. _y/n_ kept her eyes closed as concerned voices floated above her. The sounds of sirens mostly filled her ears. _y/n_ moved a hand to touch her face which was throbbing with a consistent pain down her nose and cartilage beneath it.  _y/n_’s hand got stopped and that firm yet gentle grip finally had her open her eyes. Spencer was holding her hand and said in a worried voice, “Don’t touch your face, _y/n_. I think your nose is broken. Can you breathe through it at all?” _y/n_ took a tentative breath through it and replied, “I can. It hurts, but I can.” Her voice sounded weak and far away. As _y/n_ came more to her senses, her pain level heightened, and she noticed Emily beside her. Prentiss looked as bad as _y/n_ felt and _y/n_ said, “Em, how are you? You okay?” Prentiss shrugged and said, “I’ve felt better, but I’ll survive. Nothing gives me as much satisfaction as scaring some tough guys off. I just wished it ended without us looking like we fell down five flights of stairs.” Prentiss’s comment had _y/n_ chuckle which was a mistake as it hurt like hell the instant _y/n_  started laughing. _y/n_ looked up as JJ’s familiar shoes approached the group on the ground. JJ bent down next to Spencer and asked, “Should I call an ambulance?” Em cut in and said, “Not for me. I’m not going to spend hours in a hospital only to be given some Benadryl and an exorbitant co-pay. I’m not that bad. If it keeps hurting in the morning I’ll go the the ER.” JJ acknowledged Emily’s point and then looked over to _y/n_. _y/n_ was in pain, but the more she thought about it, the more she thought that there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with her apart from her nose. _y/n_ looked from Spencer and then to JJ and said, “I think I’m fine. I can breathe and see straight. Just a bit sore.” Again JJ nodded and said, “Okay, well Hotch is on his way. Garcia called him before we crossed the street and some of the cops went to look for those guys while the others were taking care of the lady we found.” Hearing that Hotch was coming had _y/n_ groan and say, “Hotch is gonna be mad. I shouldn’t have jumped into a scene like that.” Emily chuckled and said, “Well it was pretty impressive, but let me handle him. We’ve all done something like this before. It’s just the first time for you. He’ll have some stern words for you in his office tomorrow, but he’ll understand.” _y/n_ gave a little nod and felt comforted by Emily’s reassurance. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as she imagined. 

Spencer helped her to her feet after another minute on the cold ground, _y/n_ grunted with the effort, but put on a brave face which was bleeding again. The wound from Jenni had reopened and was oozing blood, along with her nose and a split lip. _y/n_ could taste the iron of her blood as she wiped at her face with her sleeve. _y/n_ leaned heavily on Reid, as she gave a brief statement to the cops and a bit of a longer one to Aaron who had his arms crossed over his chest in a pseudo-disappointed but mainly concerned face. After a half hour, Spencer approached JJ and they had a quiet conversation between them. It ended with JJ handing over her car keys and giving him a pat on the shoulder. _y/n_ was leaning against one of the cop cars, and Spencer approached her with a soft concern. The genius said, “Alright, _y/n_ I’m taking you to the ER.” _y/n_ looked up at him and said, “Can’t you just take me home?” Spence nodded no and replied, “Nope. You don’t have to go to the hospital, but I am having you looked at. If nothing else I need to make sure your nose isn’t broken.” _y/n_ tried a last defense as she said, “But Emily…” Spencer cut her off and said, “Emily is Emily, and Hotch is taking her to the ER too, she just doesn’t know it yet. Now please stop arguing with me, _y/n_.” Whatever _y/n_ was going to say died in her mouth. Spencer’s tone left no room for negotiation. She’d never heard him be so demanding yet comforting at the same time. They walked silently to JJ’s car. Spencer opened the passenger side door for her, before getting in the driver's seat. He turned the key in the ignition and drove toward the nearest clinic. _y/n_ closed her eyes and tried not not sound like she was struggling to breathe or make pained sounds as they drove over speed bumps or potholes. _y/n_ didn’t know if or what to say. She was contemplating how many new things had happened to her this week. How she’d personally been threatened by an unsub, how she’d gotten into another hairy situation this evening. As _y/n_ reflected on the two incidents, she could at least say she had acted decisively on the second occasion. _y/n_ could feel Spencer thinking beside her and she had to ask, “Are you disappointed in me?” _y/n_ didn’t know why she asked, or if she wanted to know the answer, but Spence was her best friend and she didn’t think she could stand not knowing what he was thinking. The heavy silence had _y/n_ squirm in her seat. After another minute and a lot of rewording in Reid’s head, he replied, “I’m not disappointed in you, _y/n_. Just worried. First, there was the case in the lab, and now this. I wish you didn’t jump into things so strongly. But you did the right thing. The brave thing.” Again Spencer was giving her mixed signals. She didn’t know if he was mad at her or proud. Or maybe a mix of both. It was so hard to tell with him and her head was pounding again. Trying to understand what Reid’s core emotion was, she stated, “You would have jumped in too. Emily did.” Spencer sighed deeply and said, “I would have jumped in now. But probably not when was a first-year agent. I know now that I don’t have to physically jump into every situation, but that comes with time.” Reid’s statement only left _y/n_ more confused, so she shut her eyes and mouth and just tried to breathe normally. For a profiler, she didn’t feel that good at reading him right now. 

Spencer was doing his darndest to mask his real emotions, concern, and worry. He’d meant what he said to _y/n_, but he hadn’t meant it to come off as so passive-aggressive. So hot and cold. The issue was he was all hot and soft and wanted to pull _y/n_ into a hug and tell her that she had been so brave, if not cocky for taking on five men at once. It wasn’t the technique he would have used, but she’d moved on instinct, a pure instinct to protect and defend someone in need. He saw her do this over and over and over on the field. She did it with him and it made him love her even more. But _y/n_ was trying to act brave and fight back tears as they got closer to the ER, and he didn’t know how to tell her he cared about her more than anything without telling her he loved her. It wasn’t possible, so he let the silence sit again. Thankfully the small clinic that was nearest to them was only five minutes away, and he pushed the pedal down a bit farther to get _y/n_ the care she claimed she didn’t need. 

Inside the small office, Spencer grabbed an intake packet while _y/n_ handed over her insurance card. The receptionist said, “It should be about thirty minutes. The nurse will call you back when they’re ready for you.” Reid nodded and led _y/n_ to a chair. She had her eyes closed and her head in her hands. The pain was slowly ebbing back into her body as her energy dipped again. Spencer realized that the lights were bothering her, and he set the forms down on the adjacent chair. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over _y/n_’s hunched head and shoulders. _y/n_ felt an instant reprieve as the lights that she was trying to keep out of her view disappeared under a blanket of black. She let out a sigh of relief. Swallowing down her emotions, _y/n_ peaked out from under the coat. Spencer was filling out the tedious form for her and she whispered, “Thanks, Spence.” Spencer looked over to her and said, “Of course, _y/n_.” He patted his shoulder as if saying, “You can rest your head here.” _y/n_ had never heard him use such kindness with her before. He looked out for her, but not like this. She didn’t have the energy to read into anything anymore. She just accepted what was being offered and dropped the jacket over her face again, not caring if she looked silly. _y/n_ also dipped her head onto his warm shoulder, letting the scratching of the pen and the dimmed sound of the TV fill her ears. A half-hour later, _y/n_ got seen by a doctor who informed her that her nose had a minor fracture. The doctor did put two stitches in on her forehead to close up the scar that was much deeper than _y/n_ had expected. _y/n_ tried to pay attention as the medical man gave her care instructions and prescription for a stronger pain relief. He also gave her a large dose of Advil for her to be able to rest that night. Reid checked her out and got her prescription from the nurse at the exit. The tired woman tried to flirt with him, but he didn’t respond. He just wanted to get _y/n_ home safely. 

The ride back was soft as the pain medication started making _y/n_ drowsy. Spencer got her up to her apartment and room. Just as Spencer thought _y/n_ was asleep, _y/n_ said, “Call me tomorrow at eleven so I can get up in time to make that lecture.” Reid wanted to tell her to take a break. He’d give the lecture, but by that time she was already asleep. Reid let out a soft breath. He pulled the covers over _y/n_’s form and turned off the light in her room. Spencer softly slipped out of her room and locked the electronic lock behind him. As he drove JJ’s car back to the liaison’s apartment, he considered his feelings. How he’d watched _y/n_ grow as an agent so far with the BAU. They had just kind of clicked in a way that he hadn’t expected. It had started as early as her first case as she noticed something in his geographic profile that he had missed. As it turned out sometimes Spencer’s attention to tiny details and his expansive knowledge left holes in the bigger picture. Holes that _y/n_ could see and point out. She’d come to him personally to point it out. She didn’t make a big deal of catching something that the infamous Dr. Reid had missed. She didn’t try and show off, she just pointed it out like he was a normal person, like everyone else who made human errors. Since then they had just stuck. They balanced the other out. Spencer sighed as he thought about her battered face, her desire to prove herself again and again like she wasn’t good enough already. That was the problem with liking someone in the department, who had to watch them throw themselves in danger over and over and it killed Reid. That was another reason he had kept his feelings at bay. But tonight something had shifted, and he didn’t know if he could pretend anymore. He’d sleep on it and re-evaluate in the morning. He found this policy worked for almost everything in his life, and he hoped to any God that it would bring clarity the following day. 

As it turned out, _y/n_ didn’t need to have Spencer call her in the morning, as she woke up sore and in pain at 7:00 a.m. She got up and drank a glass of water with her pain meds. She reminded herself that she needed to pick up her prescription as she started making some _c/t_. _y/n_ then moved to the mirror and cringed at the sight of her face. _y/n_ did her best to fight the puffiness with makeup, but even as hard as she tried, no makeup was going to cover everything. The stitches for one couldn’t be touched for a few days, so they stood out like a sore thumb. _y/n_ called Emily and asked if she was coming in that morning. Prentiss replied, “Yup. Hotch wants to talk to us. I forgot to tell you last night. I kind of passed out once I got home.” _y/n_ nodded, accepting the inevitable, and said, “Okay. What time did he say?” Pernitss replied, “Noon. He promised to make it quick.” _y/n_ bit the inside of her mouth, but she’d rather get this unpleasant lecture over with before giving her lecture later in the day. _y/n_ asked, “Can you come pick me up? I want your reassurance before seeing Hotch.” Emily lightly laughed on the other end of the line and said, “You got it. _y/n_. Be there in thirty-ish minutes.” _y/n_ got changed and picked up her work bag. She remembered Spencer and shot him a text as Emily arrived saying that she was up and headed to the office. She also said, “Thanks for your help last night. See you in a few.” _y/n_ still wasn’t sure what last night was between them, a fight? A confession? She couldn’t say, but she was too stressed about the meeting with Hotch to think about it now. 

Hotch’s lecture about jumping into situations without thinking first was stern enough to remind them to not do that again but hinted at a kind of pride that he only showed for his team and no one else. Two hours after that talk _y/n_ was standing in front of the lectern with a sea of NATs sitting in front of her. There were at least two hundred in this class, and somehow giving this lecture now felt more daunting than anything else that had happened that week. Maybe because it was the last big thing she needed to do before the weekend, or that she was a bit overdressed for the occasion, or that the lights were hurting her eyes. The front of the stage was uncomfortably hot with all the lights pointed at her. _y/n_ took one last breath before looking at her useless notes, which she hadn’t looked at since yesterday afternoon. The man that had introduced her had just said that Derek Morgan couldn’t make it today and then said her name and that was it. _y/n_ felt like they deserved a better explanation than that. So she started by saying, “Well, as you all know, Derek Morgan was supposed to be talking to you today. As you can see, I’m not him.” That got a chuckle from a good part of the audience. _y/n_ placed her hand on either side of the lectern and said, “If it’s not clear by Morgan’s absence, and well, my face, a lot of unexpected things can happen in the FBI. And that’s really what your case studies are about. To learn to adapt and observe. You’ve got a month left at the academy and that month is going to go fast, so allow me to tell you what to expect.” _y/n_ looked out at the young and eager faces in front of her. She looked to the back and noticed Spencer standing there. She’d hardly had time to see him today, and it gave her a profound amount of comfort to have him here. _y/n_ relaxed and jumped into her thoughts and experiences with her case studies. She hardly went off her notes and just went on instinct. She didn’t sound rehearsed or like she was trying to be smart. She was just being herself. The person Spencer admired more than anyone at the moment. _y/n_ managed to make it through most of her remarks and felt grateful that the agents in training were paying attention to her while taking notes or nodding along. She detailed how now was the time to make mistakes. How it was better to ask all your questions, even stupid ones, during these exercises and not when you were out on the field. How to tag evidence, and how to look for small and big details in the fake cases they would be given. Just as _y/n_ was about to make her final point and wrap up, a wave of dizziness hit her out of nowhere. _y/n_ stumbled a bit, and suddenly, the lights were so bright, and her jacket felt like it was suffocating her. Not sure what was happening, _y/n_ closed her eyes tight and gripped the lectern tightly. There was a murmur from the NATs. This wasn’t how she wanted her lecture to end, but not thinking of any other choice but ducking behind the stage to get a seat, she said, “Sorry. I’m not feeling so well. My friend and colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid will close out the lecture. Thank you all for your time, and good luck with the last month. I believe all of you have what it takes to be great agents.” There were a few hesitant claps of applause as _y/n_ moved off stage on shaky feet. She was met by the man who had introduced her, and led her to a chair on the side of the stage. He asked if she wanted to go, but she protested and just sat in the dark trying to regain her composure. 

Spencer had watched as _y/n_ swayed unsteadily at the front of the room. His heart leaped in his chest, seeing _y/n_ like this. He hadn’t expected to be called to speak. But _y/n_ had asked, and he moved onto the stage. He quickly introduced himself even though everyone in the audience already knew who he was. Reid looked down at the last page of _y/n_’s notes, which she had sort of been following, and realized most of the page were just his corrections, and suddenly, he understood why she had been so annoyed yesterday morning. His annotations were too much to be helpful. Spence sighed, looked at the students, and then into the wings where _y/n_ was sitting on a chair. Reid started talking, but it wasn’t for the students, at least not wholly. He said, “Being in the FBI isn’t an easy job. I think you all know that now, and if you don’t, well I guess it’t not too late to quit, but what will all have that work been for then? As you head into your case studies, I have one last thing to tell you, and that’s that you need friends now and when you’re on the field. I say this because there’s always something you’ll miss, and if you make friends, they can tell you that and fill in the gaps. You need someone you can call night or day because things will get hard, and you’ll be lost or scared or think you’re not doing enough. You’ll need someone to remind you that you're just as human as everyone else. So as you get sorted into your teams and assigned your cases, get to know your team members. Trust them. I think that’s the best advice I can offer you. Thank you.” With that, Spence exited stage left and replaced the introducer who moved back into the bright light of the stage to dismiss the NATs. Spencer checked in with _y/n_, who said, “Thanks Spence. Sorry to put you on the spot like that.” Reid shook his head and said, “It was nothing. How do you feel, what happened?” _y/n_ swallowed and said, “I don’t know, I just got faint. It’s passed now, I think.” Spencer couldn’t hide his genuine concern for her as he said, “_y/n_, please let me take you to the hospital or something. You shouldn’t be nearly fainting.” _y/n_ looked at him and didn’t think she could bear another two hours in a waiting room. She said, “Spencer, please. If you’ve ever cared about me, can you just take me to _y/l/p_ and then drive me home?” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Reid stilled at her words and said, “Okay, _y/n_. Whatever you want.” The pair quickly made it to Spencer's car in the lot just outside the NAT training building. 

Once they were inside his car, _y/n_ said, “Spence, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say it like that. I didn’t mean to assume or throw your concern back in your face. You’ve always been so nice to me, and I guess I just saw what I wanted to.” Reid looked at _y/n_ and said, “I love you, _y/n_.” The words astounded _y/n_, and she didn’t know what to say apart from, “What?” Spencer looked at her with the eyes he had last night on the drive back to her apartment and said, “I’ve loved you for a long time, and I didn’t know what to say. I meant everything up there on that stage. You’re my best friend, and you remind me that I’m human, and why I’m doing what I am. I just didn’t say the part about how I’ve been bottling up my feelings for months now. Because I’m a coward when it comes to my feelings. _y/n_ was almost in tears now, and she said, “You’re not a coward Spencer, and if you are, then I am too because I love you too, and I never said anything either.” Spence couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned across the console to embrace _y/n_. He was mindful of her face, and as _y/n_ pressed into him, he relaxed. Feelings were hard. He still didn’t fully understand them, but with _y/n_, he was just human enough to want to embrace them.

______________________________________________________________

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[fumifooms]

was not expecting how head over heels i'd fall for marchil- i stg there's something they put in the sauce like goddamn! and i've loved seeing your posts analyzing their dynamic, really helped articulate what i was feeling. i was wondering if you had any fic recs, or any recommendations for ships with a similar vibe? i'm hungry for them...

I know right, marchil gripped me in a chokehold out of nowhere and still hasn’t let go… The sauce was designed by the demon for me to get addicted specifically. It’s been too long since I haven’t written fic for them. I’m still chipping away at my Marcille & Chil arc analysis I know I always mention it and I started the draft in January but I SWEARRR… Season 1 is ending next week :/ On the upside I’ll probably be more focused. After that analysis, which is only analyzing in depth like one aspect/half of their intertwined arc btw so who knows there might be a part 2 one day, I kept thinking it’d prob be my last marchil analysis but let’s be real, probably not. Every week I find something new to point out about them aah…… Dungeon food, ahh, dungeon food…

Fanfic rec wise, well first I have my own marchil fics, to which I mostly recommend Grind Me Down Sweetly, and then feel free to browse my marchil bookmarks for what seems good! I don’t know what your tastes are but Shroomyystar makes super good angst (and smut), my favorite being 'Til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours about Marcille getting deathly sick and the dilemma to confess or to not confess, incredibly haunting piece of bittersweet but soul-crushing angst AND character study. Like wow! Chilchuck I need to throw you in a river. I want you beside me is cute bedsharing banter. From me to you makes my head spin and makes me shake my screen. And- *gets dragged off before I can mention more* Meanwhile on the flipside, Anita_Amai (the first ao3 marchil writer, still going strong 👏👏) is especially great at offering short and sweet pieces, the tone is usually light and comedic and it always makes me smile and giggle, gives me fluff attacks, the fics always a strong good scene or theme idea too. Just browse and pick any, it’s a good time. There’s soo many more. Honestly I recommend just diving into the ao3 tag and start reading. You can start by kudos and read the highest ones first to dip your toes and get the community classics one out. Early on there was a recurring anon writer who did great bittersweet domestic confession stuff like this one, lifespan angst oughh... Wherever you are now thank you for all your work 😭💖 A lot of new marchil writers are starting to post too! A csm asaden fanfic writer legend just joined the tag so marchil will probably finally get some multi-chaptered fanfics haha~ But yess there’s unrequited angst, there’s self-sabotaging angst, there’s domestic fluff, there’s falling in love and bantery fluff, bunch of good stuff <3

As to ships with similar vibes: The closest I’ve seen so far is honestly weirdly close, it’s the protagonists from a romance comedy josei called Dame na watashi ni koishite kudasai or Please love useless me! I don’t want to spoil but there’s even the guy needing to move on from a doomed love + emotional distance issues and the gal slowly invading his personal life/social circle and my god… They were coworkers, he was rude, he’s a workaholic, he’s reliable, she’s sunshine and needs to get some reality checks... The banter. THE BANTER. He represses and she copes by simping for fictional characters. He made, like, a mutual aid community for ex-gangsters. They dress up in silly costumes sometimes. They’re weeeird about each other in an unlabelable way before dating in a way (in a fun marchil in canon way). It’s so funny she’s cracking open his convoluted personal drama like her morning newspapers. There’s more there’s so much more. Give up on your dreams, make money, love loses 🔥🔥 It’s honestly just a great fun read, it’s such a mood. Haven’t read the sequel yet but there’s one so really if it hooks you you’ll be fed well and for a while. The greatest bits are too spoilery but here, have the vibe.

Howl’s Moving Castle, specifically the book, and there’s a ton of themes and narratives that are so fitting for them that I couldn’t possibly all list, I already made a post on it here if you’re interested in all the details and similarities and my AU thoughts haha.

Teen Titans 2003 the show, Beast Boy x Starfire. THAT’S RIGHT I’M A BBSTAR, BAM! 💥🫶 Jokester that’s dependable x sweet and idealistic but strong and protective. Short gremlin and tall beauty. Friends-coworkers to lovers. Very soft fluffy slice of life ship I like it a lot, and I wrote a fic for it hehe. Might do more one day, I have a bunch of prompts written down and a series I really wanted to get to sob.

I almost forgot to mention Shrek. It’s SO FUNNY how well it goes sometimes… Chil Shrek, Laios Donkey, Marcille Fiona. I want to say Mickbell could be Farquaad but even Mick doesn’t deserve this slander… Shrek 2 fear that he’s not prince charming enough for her oughh. Laios getting to be a horse good for him good for him. Winged Lion singing I need a hero. Someone stop me.

There’s also zenmiyo from Touge Oni but no one reads that </3 I gotta get to my review/lore analysis about that manga it’s sooo good a fave read of mine from last year. Like it’s so fucking good. It keeps just ramping up and getting more crazily good. Scrolling through some pages rn and it’s a unique blend of comedy, philosophy and awe-inspiring visuals and creativity. Well, sort of like late Dunmeshi actually. If it had a fandom any bigger I’d be all over it constantly. And I’d also recommend Harahara Sensei / Timebomb Teacher if it had any english translation, one of my fave mangas also. It’s about mafia, and a goody two shoes willing to go through a corruption arc to save her sister x stern rude mafioso who’s there bc he’s poor and on a revenge mission, never had any other option growing up etc etc. Ok he’s not that Chilchuck but the dynamic does have that "grow up and see the world for what it is, a shithole. It’s been hell for me" vs "ok you have a point. But also have you considered not sacrificing your humanity and emotions in a self-destructive pursuit" (not that she’s in the position to talk lmaoo) like ohh my goood him throwing his popsicle stick in the fire that she lit over a corpse, it haunts me.

From the marchil Discord it’s also fun to notice ships some of us share… Csm asaden, some combination of LotR elf x short guy, fair amount of dunmeshi ships overlap too. Haven’t found the overall common thread quite yet and I’m forgetting many that have come up but lol some off the top of my head.

[little-emerald-snake]

A check in / posting update

Hello friends, I apologize in advance because this may be a bit of a ramble.

As many of you know, I’ve been on an aggressive posting schedule since October. While it’s been an incredible push to grow as a writer and a challenge to my ADHD to retain a strict schedule I must admit it’s really been stressful behind the scenes.

I’ve recently transitioned into a new full time job (yay better pay and paid benefits) and will be starting school in the fall. That being said, something time wise has to give.

Hang on though, just because I won’t be sticking to a direct posting schedule doesn’t mean I will disappear entirely or stop writing. I still have some requests I’d like to work on as well as some extra ideas I really want to get out there.

All this means is my posting may be a bit sporadic. I’ll still be active and I’ll still take requests as well as post my own ideas. I just need a bit more time in my day for other things. (Like my real actual life. Crazy, I know.)

This also is to help me have the time to make a longer chaptered work I’ve had sitting in my brain and my drafts for ages now.

I really endlessly appreciate all the love and support sent my way and if I could I’d thank each and every single one of you personally for supporting my 4 month writing binge, I would.

As a finale for my insane writing stint. I have one final work set to post tomorrow and that will be the last of my January posts.

Much love, Sylvie 💕

[violetfaust]

The Broken Destiel Seals: A Semicomprehensive Unillustrated List

(So far)

I didn't complete my (self-appointed) assignment for Destiel Day, which was to compile a complete list of every time Destiel went canon (thus breaking one of the Sixty-Six Seals: when they all fall, the pale coconuts will collide), with nice gifs. To me, Destiel is "canonized" by persons/entities who officially create and distribute the show: producers, writers, actors, directors, other crew, translators, and networks.

Have, instead, this work in progress.

November 5, 2020, 15x18, “Despair”: Cas declares his love.

Then:

Nov. 11, 2020: Misha Collins at DCLOnline: “It was a long time in the making. It was really important to [Robert Berens] and really important to me. When he pitched me the storyline it gave me chills. I thought - this is awesome. This vindication and this expression of love - at the end - it makes it all worth it. I was really happy about it. You know, it’s interesting, there are some fans who are asexual who have taken solace in the fact that Cas hasn’t made this kind of declaration [before] so I feel bad that those fans might get a little bit alienated. However, I’m sure that a lot of them are also okay with this. There’s a trope in Hollywood of “kill the gays” and so Cas meeting with his demise only seconds after making this homosexual declaration of love fits into that fairly insidious trope, however, for some reason, that is, in my mind, not really as important as the declaration itself.”

Nov. 12, 2020, 15x19, “Inherit the Earth”: Lucifer, whose signature move is pretending to be a dead lover to get someone to let him in (done to Sam, Nick, and Vince Vincente), pretends to be Cas when calling Dean.

November 19, 2020, 15x20, “Carry On”: Bobby’s knowing eyebrow waggle when telling Dean that Cass "helped"--was safe in heaven.

November 25, 2020, the Latin American dub: “Te amo.” “Y yo a ti, Cas.” https://teamironmanforever.tumblr.com/post/637355024027090944/highlight-translation-of-the-spanish-dub-actor

Those are the first five seals, taking us to the end of November 2020.

But they were just the beginning.

December 6, 2020, 5x4 “The End” script: “I think the only thing we have left, me and Dean, is each other.”

December 6, 2020: confirmation that Dean was scripted to say “I love you” in the crypt scene.

December 11, 2020, 15x18 script direction: “Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.”

December 28, 2020, 7x1 script direction: “Dean looks down, away, quietly emotional—believe it or not, the following is a loving, heart-wrenched eulogy.”

January 8, 2021: Sky Deutschland describes Cas’s closest relationship as “Dean <3”

March 3, 2021, 15x18 German dub

March 10, 2021, 15x18 French dub

March 25, 2021: Before airing the SPN finale, Sky Deutschland shares Destiel reunion fanart. https://www.instagram.com/p/CM2hL42CQbO/

April 4, 2021: cameo with Misha reciting deleted bit from 05x04 The End gets published

April 10, 2021, Misha at Paris DarkLight Conline: The mix tape contained rock love songs.

April 18, 2021, 13x6 second draft script: Dean spread Cas’s ashes in a beautiful meadow near a windmill.

Note: from November 2020 to the beginning of May 2021, Destiel was going canon an average of once a week.

6/18/21, 15x18 Russian dub: “From our very first meeting, ever since I pulled you out of hell, I’ve been changing beside you. I learned love from you.” “Don’t even think about it, Cas.”

6/30/21, original script for 8x17, “Good-bye Stranger”: “I forgive you, Cas…I love you.”

9/4/21, Misha Collins at Memento Con 21: “Cas saw love in Dean’s eyes.”

9/9/21: the Italian dub’s “I love you” is platonic (unlike all other translations); Misha retorts with a “Ti amo” tweet.

10/15/21, DenCon 21:

April 2022, SPN Indy: Misha confirms that Jensen/Radio Company song “Watching Over Me” is about Cas

9/5/22, 13x20 “Unfinished Business” production script: “I lost Cas and it damn near broke me.”

10/23/22, Jensen Ackles at VanCon 22: “I had an answer for that in the next set up--camera set up after Castiel is taken and Dean's on the floor and puts his--I put my--my head in my hands--um--in that moment I did that not because I just lost--well because I--I-- he--because I lost Cas, but also because I didn't-- I didn't say anything--I didn't give him anything. And--what I had in my head was, I should have said 'I love you too' and hugged him."

Note: Someone in the future will earn their doctorate in psychology studying Jensen Ackles's tangled pronouns when he talks about Dean.

 11/16/22, 14x10 “Prophet and Loss” blue pages: “The world loses you, and me—I—I lose you too. And that is unacceptable to me, Dean. Unacceptable. Totally.”

2/25/23, JA at JIB 2023: “Well, I mean hopefully we get to see that at some point but I'm sure it would go how we all think it would go, it would probably be a big embrace and then Dean would say ‘Can we talk about that goodbye a little bit?’"

February 2023, JIB: Jensen and Misha write a Destiel song onstage

8/23/23: News breaks that the Latin American translator “doesn’t add stuff” and while he doesn’t remember specifically, he thinks Dean’s reciprocation must have been in the script he worked from. https://www.tumblr.com/blanketforcas/726452424930410496/context-for-those-who-missed-it

Those are the roughly 28 Destiel Seals through 11/5/23.

And counting...

[lightofunova]

As the year draws to a close, I find myself looking back at the past year and I just need to state how absolutely crazy it has been for me.

This blog will be one year old in January, which it’s so funny that it’s already almost been an entire year since I started posting and interacting? It isn’t the official birthday yet, but I just want to thank everyone for reading and interacting and supporting me this past year. I’ve met so many wonderful people in the community who have pushed me to want to do better, and who I want to interact witth more but my own shyness and nerves prevent me from doing so.

You all have truly spoiled me this year by allowing me to share my silly ocs and stories witth you all, and just by listening to me I am already content. Thank you truly from the bottom of my heart for allowing me to be a part of this community, for being able to create my own little corner here just to act silly.

And I have so many new friends I haven’t said a proper thank you to, for one reason or another. Maybe due to being busy or me being too bashful to admit it over late night calls or to even start a conversation in dms. Before the year is out I want to right that.

@symphonies-of-silver I know that I’m not someone who is super close, but honestly I started askblogging because of you! You made me want to do it and seeing Ginjiro and his story begin to unfold, I was inspired to do my own. I wish I could talk more with you in dms, you seem like such an amazing person and I love hearing about your ocs and ideas honestly, I’m just shy haha. I can’t wait to see what ideas you craft up in the coming year, it’s always something to look forward to.

@lustrous-dawn Gosh, I’ve always adored your writing style so much, I often find myself reading over your words and wanting to be more eloquent with my own sometimes haha. You always inspire me to write more than draw, and you’d be surprised how many little blurbs and drafts I’ve made this year about various things haha. You also showed me that, it’s alright to just do your own thing. It’s fine to just post whenever you want, what you want, and how you want. I don’t think I realized that when I started but now that the year had been ending I’m starting to realize it, even if you told me that a bajillion times over calls haha.

@askdeoxys Gosh, I don’t know what to say sometimes when we talk. You have done alot for me this year over calls and chats and games, I mean hell I wouldn’t be using a tablet now if it wasn’t for you. You really know how to cheer someone up when they’re down, and all of the conversations we’ve had this past year have been so much fun. I never thought I would be ending 2023 having accomplished so much, You egg me on to do the things that matter in life. The advice you give is always dead on, and even if I don’t listen to it it’s just because I’m a silly adult who thinks she knows better haha. Thank you for supporting me so much this year, I really do appreciate it.

@ceruleancavesmonster Golly gosh bestie, it’s been so long since we became friends, it’s wild to see how far everything has come. I know things have been busy af lately, but I can’t believe how far we’ve come! When making this I was so worried it’d be a dumb idea, but I just appreciate all the love and support you’ve shown me this entire year. From getting excited over my posts to helping me think through plot lines and ideas you really have been my biggest supporter in all of this. Just thank you so much for sticking with me through all these years, I can’t wait to see what happens next year 💙💙

And to all those I didn’t mention just know that I appreciate you more than you know, you all gave me something to work towards, something to inspire me in one way or another. Thank you so much for supporting my blog, and I hope you’ll stick around for another year in the making.

[thewertsearch]

First off, thanks for all your kind words, guys. I’m finally settled, both at home and at work - things went pretty well on both fronts, all things considered, and I’m happy to be stuck in a new home!

Pausing the liveblog was weird. I’ve been doing it since January, and I didn’t realize how big a part of my routine it had become. On more than one evening, I accidentally opened Homestuck Collection completely on instinct, ready for a liveblogging session!

Mind you, even if I‘d gone through with it, you’d probably only have seen one or two posts in the last month. Things really have been hectic, and I’m glad I committed to a full break, rather than six weeks of extremely sporadic updates. I don’t think that would have been much fun for anyone.

Anyway, I’m back now! Just a few points of order, and then we’ll get right into it.

As alluded to before I left, I’m changing the way I handle asks. Specifically, I’ll only be going through the ask box on weekends (with one caveat; see below), to better focus on liveblogging during the week. This’ll mean I’m no longer interrupting the actual liveblog at random, which will help streamline things a little.  

This, of course, means I’ll only have a limited amount of time to answer asks - in other words, not every ask will necessarily be answered. Initially I’d really hoped to avoid this, but as the blog has gained traction, the ratio of asks to liveblog posts has trended upwards, and I’m left with two options - accept that I’ll be doing more Q&A than liveblogging, or cut down on Q&A. And I gotta choose the latter, right?

However! To mitigate this a little, I’d like to introduce you all to my first sideblog, where I’ll be answering off-topic asks. This is where I’ll answer asks that are unrelated to Homestuck. These asks are usually easier to answer, since they don’t necessitate analysis or comic research. Plus, for obvious reasons, they’re a lot easier to screen. I’ll probably be dipping into this ask box fairly often, and not just on weekends. No set schedule for this one. 

That’s all! Today I’ll be answering any asks that have accumulated while I’ve been gone, plus the ones that I drafted before I left. Then I’ll jump back into the comic, right where we left off. Can’t wait!

[konglindorm]

Where I've Been (Cross-posted from Patreon)

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted any kind of update. So. Let’s talk about what I’ve been up to lately.

1. I published my second novel, Shards of Glass, in September.

2. I released the second edition of my short story collection, The Shoemaker Prince, in August.

3. I last worked on the current draft of my third planned novel, When the War Ends, in June. I think I’m at least 30k words from finishing.

4. I started work on the second edition of my first novel, Lindworm, in September. I haven’t gotten very far.

Basically, I haven’t done a lot of writing lately. This is for a variety of reasons. I started dating in January, and started making some new friends and having a social life for the first time in several years, which has dramatically decreased my free time. Which is good, mostly, but also hard sometimes. I’ve been working on a lot of other creative projects, such as sewing and doll customizing, as well as working on renovating my house. And I have been writing. A lot. Of fanfiction. I haven’t had the energy or motivation for original work, but fanfiction has less pressure, and it’s what I’ve spent a lot of my time on this year.

I’ve just been tired, and discouraged. Writing takes a lot of time and effort. And publishing and sharing it takes more. I’ve been in a rut. I’ve needed a break.

But you can’t actually build a career in writing without, you know, writing. Things that you own the copywrite on and can legally sell.

So what I’m planning on doing, next, is really getting my Patreon figured out and updated. Which I need your help with! Let me know what you’d like to see.

Then I’m going to get back to When the War Ends. The plan is to finish writing this draft, then set it aside for a few months before starting revisions. Over the last several years I’ve been doing this thing where I alternate original writing and fanfic, but since I abandoned WtWE partway through to write more fic, I’m not going to type up a few thousand more words then jump back over to the fanfic again.

I’m planning to do a draft of Silence before the WtWE revisions. You may or may not remember from last year that Silence is a novel about a mermaid, which I shared maybe 10 chapters of here? I’m planning to revamp the structure of the story quite a bit.

What I share on Patreon, from both WtWE and Silence, depends on what you guys want. So, again, let me know what you’d like to see or hear about!

[xian-1502]

2/2

And i felt bad about that. To me, what i thought was my blunder made my brother feel like being open was a possible minefield, which is something i also needed get real about since it’s so painfully evident that what happened there was NOT my fault and i somehow made it that way in my head. But that among other spots of shaming or shunning from family and poor friends made me wrongly assume how the world was and what i should be as a person. Woe was me 🤯. But i’m out of the woods now at least, or understand a facet about myself that i left unquestioned better, and i hope that’s a certain forecast of progress.

For reference everything prior was stuff that’s been drafted and noted throughout January. Not chronological or anything just complied into a sort of megapost. What follows is solely related to last night, february 3rd-4th

I’m feeling a lot of things. Im glad i don’t have work today, because i feel like going there in the mood i’m would only make me more upset considering how customers and management have been getting on my nerves lately. but that’s irrelevant, what i’m saying last night wasn’t the greatest. It wasn’t extreme, nobody is damaged or harmed, and everybody made it home so nothing active or ongoing concern. But as a whole just going through the time wasn’t fun to me. Firstly it was an opening party at a club an hour away that i knew next to nothing about the details surrounding other than the fact that the invite was from a afrobeats dj who’s a regionally known family friend. I was originally just hoping there would be good music but on the way after we picked up everyone who was riding in the car, i was told some family friends in the kenyan circle who were my age would be there (they were not, i was one of 3 people under 25 from what i could see if not, highly unfortunate for some people). We got there and the venue was filled with crowd that was notably older than me, but the music was alright. So i figured it would be tolerable at least. I spent my time at the bar drinking lemonades when this dude came up to me and asked me if he met me before and how long i’ve been in the country(since the majority of the club goers that day were immigrants among the last 20-40 years and shared the moving experience). i answered and then the talk ended shortly after when someone else he knew came to say hi and talk to him. I will spare the fluff on this accord but this story ends with me getting grope/humped on the dance floor by this dude when i got up to dance to a song i liked. it dawned on me later that he was definitely eyeing me after the initial interaction cause i did see him looking at me when i would walk around or when i was waiting in line at the bathroom but i just thought it was like the look of knowing more so than sizing me up to act since i didn’t clock that he was reading me as a girl. (i was standing in the wrong spot at this point which is likely what contributed to my fate since if i was in the right like that dude probably would’ve stepped off immediately) That ruined my mood a great deal and i really wanted to just go home at that point but i didn’t know where the people i came with were and i knew they were inebriated so i had to ask my younger aunt who was sober (since she was driving herself and her boyfriend) to help me find everyone and get ready to leave. I will not that or less significance in my mind, some drunk lady i swear i don’t know but somehow knows my name tapped my shoulder and was like “heyyy christian i didn’t know you’d be here!!” and went for a hug so i just opted cause that’s the normal reaction but then she went to do the french double cheek kiss thing and didn’t move far enough on the second swing leading to almost straight on my nose. So i twisted my head and tried to step away as a little whiskey scented spot was planted on my cheek. This being before airport casanova set up his game plan to cop a feel. But those two events contributed to making that experience unfun and i’m even more upset with myself that i let myself end up in that situation. im happy that nothing really bad happened and that i could go home fine unhurt and all, but it’s what’s stoking my frustration at myself is that i let myself get convinced into going, knowing i would rather stay home. I really wish i could go back and unfold under the pressure but that gets me nowhere as i already know yet im still bitter at myself over it. I at least know for certain i’m never gonna allow myself to end up in that situation again so that’s good, but as it stands now, i am just not in a great mood over it. I’ll get over it though for certain though so it can culminate to be whatever at the end of it all.

[bvannn]

Weekly Update January 26, 2024

I am still very sick. I just took my second increased dose of the medicine, hoping it will help. Whatever stomach issue I was having a bit ago appears to have returned as well, or it could be more side effects from the surgery. Or something else. I don’t know. I tried fasting on Wednesday and felt physically better but also guilty, and I don’t want to keep doing it because I know it’s dangerous. I’m still a healthy weight for my height so I can probably get away with doing it like, once a week, but I don’t want to accidentally lose too much weight either because I’m already a 22 year old adult who buys clothes in the kids section I don’t need to be any smaller. I’ll figure it out, I’m trying to focus what I am eating on fruits and nuts, hoping it’ll detox me a bit.

I did a couple drawings this week. Kinda. The one I posted was actually sketched back before the surgery I just hadn’t digitized it yet. I only posted the one drawing because I want to hold on to the other for a bit because it’s part of that epithet prompt set I made. I’m fully not expecting to do every one of those prompts, but I figured hey since I missed a few I can do a batch of the missed prompts and release them at once. I sketched the one for this week and planned on finishing it on Wednesday but I got sick again. Once I’m feeling better I’ll try to focus more on drawings. I think I gotta scrap the big animation project I was working on due to circumstances beyond my control, which sucks but theoretically I can try other animation things too. I’ve been sitting on an idea for a short Detective Conan animation, maybe I’ll do that. Or maybe I’ll stay sick. Idk. I kinda want to figure out how I would animate Shaun, since he’s a ghost so I’d have to deal with both transparency and glow effects, plus certain aspects of his design that were meant to be more flowy, like his shirt-tail-thing. I could poke after effects again but it seems a lot more tedious than I had hoped.

I did review over comic stuff this week too, although I haven’t made any progress since I really started getting the surgery after effects. I like how it’s flowing for the most part, but I’m probably going to have to do second drafts of a few pages. Kinda sucks that everything feels so rushed, since I want to fit the whole introductory chapter into ~32 pages, which I’m totally able to do but I have to hold off on some little dialogue exposition conversations that I think people would like. Any story with ghosts is going to have people wanting to fully understand how the ghosts physically work, especially when it becomes relevant, but some of that can be put off until later because character moments are more important. Whatever, I can always keep going.

I feel super bad about not being able to do anything but I’m still so screwed up. I want to take another stab at music, and maybe I will, but I need to sit upright to play piano which screws with my stomach, and in order to pick out VSTs I want on a song I need to be able to have a midi that resembles what the final will sound like and I need to be in the headspace to listen to music without going into sensory overload. I’m pretty sure all of this is sleep related, I have the weekend to hopefully catch up on sleep, but I need to do some homework as well. And I need to stop waking up in the middle of the night. I’m afraid to double dose on sleep medicine because even though I know it’s safe after 6 or so hours, I don’t want to be reliant on sleep medicine because that’s how Michael Jackson died. Might have to wait for my surgery bs to subside before I can try to detox though.

I don’t know what to do with myself right now. I feel awful, I feel like my insides are rotting, but I know they’re not since I’m not in pain from it (or at least not enough pain to really believe that). Plus surgeon looked at me before I moved back to Uni and seemed really impressed with how quickly I was healing. Even though I probably disobeyed her ‘don’t lift more than 20 pounds’ rule. Like a lot. I did feel better this week than I did last, so I’m hoping I can bounce back pretty quick. I’ll give it another week or two before I ask my primary if I need another medicine. I’m hesitant right now because both she and the surgeon seemed to agree beforehand that I wouldn’t, and I want to trust them. I don’t know. Time providing I’ll try to do more drawings this week.

[banannabethchase]

Set the World Alight: Chapter 9 - also on AO3

~

Matt gets her appointment with her doctor about HRT, Nick gets mildly smothered by his big sister, and Matt and Mox have a very overdue conversation.

~

Note: I'm writing this fic in a much kinder world that we live in right now. Matt is given the opportunity to meet with a doctor relating to HRST, and it goes, well, better than most meetings go for most trans people. I'm giving Matt the medical experience she and all trans people deserve in this fic, which may not directly reflect the reality many people are facing. However, I'm putting this in the universe as a hopeful future for trans people.

Additional note: In this chapter, high schoolers in a committed, loving relationship discuss sex and their preferences! They are awkward and dorky about it.

~

Monday January  20th

Nick

Matt’s jittery the whole drive to school, and Nick worries about her the entire time. He catches Matt as she makes her way to the front office to sign out.

“It’s going to go great,” he insists to her. “You’re going to get your medicine and things are going to go well.”

“Maybe,” Matt says, frowning. “I mean, switching to HRT sometimes requires months, if not years, of consultation. They might want me to go through specific therapy for a few weeks.”

“You’ve been doing the virtual therapy though, right?” Nick asks. “Like, you told Marcia about this?”

Matt gives him the most annoying know-it-all look. “Nicky, if you think I didn’t start talking to Marcia about this back when I started seeing her freshman year, you’re stupid.”

“Hey!” Nick says, elbowing her in the ribs. “I’m trying to be supportive here. Just asking”

Matt nods. “I – I also showed them my journals.” Her smile goes a little hidden. “I don’t think I ever told you this, but I’ve been writing about being a girl for the past, like, three years. Apparently that helps them know I’m ready.”

“Look at you, being prepared,” Nick says. “For once in your life.”

Matt socks him in the arm. “I thought you were gonna be nice.”

“Nope!” Nick says grinning. “I’m the asshole brother. You should expect this by now.”

Matt huffs as she walks away, but she’s got a bit of a pep in her step that Nick hadn’t seen earlier.

He makes his way through school and practice, driving the car home carefully and also in a mild panic, but settles almost immediately when he walks in the house and realizes he’s the only one there. His mom is with Matt at her appointment, Dad is still at work, and Nick doesn’t have to listen to anyone talk for a few hours, at least.

He blares his music while he showers and dresses in pajamas with all the doors open, skipping his way through the rooms while singing poorly to Hot in Herre when no one can judge him. He tries to get some good selfies in the mirror – he’s finally getting something that looks like abs – and texts one to Adam with the message, is this a good shot?

Adam doesn’t reply for a while, and when he does he says, warn a dude before sending nudes fuck.

Nick ignores the butterflies he gets at the thought of what Adam may have looked like when he opened the text. it’s not nudes!!!!!

You are shirtless and your shorts are out of frame. It’s basically a nude!!!!!!

It’s 5:00 before he gets a text from Matt, when he’s lying on the couch watching college basketball without anyone interrupting him.

I have a prescription! I get HRT!

Nick sits up. He didn’t want to tell anyone, but he was scared and, honestly, pretty sure they were going to refuse to do anything for Matt. Ever since she’d come out to him, Nick had been secretly compiling research. Transphobic laws, cruel words thrown at people even more vulnerable than Matt, medical professionals who let their own opinions overtake logic. He has a file on the computer of safe states, of laws he’s afraid of, of people he knows in his life who will take care of Matt in any situation. There’s an email drafted to their Aunt Marilyn up in Massachusetts, just in case they had to get Matt out of there in an emergency.

But he didn’t need any of them.

He mutes the TV and calls. “Do you get to pick it up today?!”

“I do!” Matt says. Nick thinks he can see the smile on her face. “Mom and I are on the way – CVS is open until six so we should get there in time.”

Matt goes on to review the entire doctor’s appointment, in excruciating detail, but Nick’s not going to complain. She’s talking more quickly than Nick’s heard her in a long time, the excitement bleeding through every word, and he allows himself to relax his fears for her.

“I’m really happy for you, Matty,” he says. “This is awesome.”

“We’re at CVS,” she says. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Later,” Nick says. “And, um. Matty?”

“Yeah?”

“I really love you.” They don’t say it a lot, saving it for big events. And this feels like one of them.

“I love you too, baby brother,” Matt says.

~

Sunday February 3rd

Nick

Between games and a new semester and a sister whose hormonal shifts are causing some slightly intense crying jags that interrupt him in the middle of the night, Nick is exhausted. He pulls off the prior day’s Saturday game with mediocre attempts, but they still lose. His goal for all of Sunday is to just sleep.

He is not given that opportunity.

Based on the way the light angles in through the window, he can guess it’s probably around 11:30 in the morning when the door to his bedroom slams open.

“Nick!” Matt says. “Nick, I think I’m getting boobs!”

Nick rolls over. “Mm. Sleep. Goo’ job.”

“Nick!” Matt yells again, and she shakes his shoulder enough that Nick has no choice but to roll over. “Look!”

“I really don’t want to,” Nick mumbles.

“Not – gross, don’t be weird. I mean, like, in the shirt!”

Nick rolls over, opening his eyes with the knowledge he may regret it instantly. “Um.”

“Look!” Matt says. She’s bouncing on her toes, almost jumping. She pulls her shirt tight against her.

“Well, would you look at that,” Nick says. “You have the beginnings of boobs.” He thinks that the right answer. He doesn’t exactly see something, but he knows there’s something there because Matt’s excited, and he refuses to be the one to ruin her moment.

Matt spins around while making this high pitched scream, something weird and giddy and so Matt that it makes Nick want to shove his head into a pillow. “I’m a girl!”

“Boobs don’t make you a girl,” Nick grumbles into the pillow.

“You’re talking to a pillow, dumbass,” Matt singsongs.

Nick rolls over, glaring at Matt. “I’m trying to be supportive and you’re being a bitch.”

Matt grins. “I like when you call me a bitch. It’s better than when you’d call me an asshole. I like being called a bitch.”

Nick pushes himself up to sitting. “I can’t wait until you move into the garage office.”

Matt sighs. “Me either. It’s gonna be great. We’re almost done!” She bounces on her toes for a second then finally settles, looking at Nick with this hopeful little smile. “Anyway, you really mean it?” Nick gets a good look at her face, at the apprehensive excitement, at the hope in her eyes.

“I do,” Nick says. “And the shirt, like, works, you know? It makes it clear what you’re going for.” He frowns, wishing he knew how to help better. “Like that part around the – your ribs? It looks really girly.”

Matt rolls her eyes. “It’s called an empire waist, dumbass. It gives me a waist.”

“Yeah,” Nick says, squinting. “Sure. You look great. Can I go back to sleep now?”

Matt sighs. “Fine. Thanks, though. I feel pretty. Go back to sleep.”

“Trying to,” Nick grumbles. But Matt closes their bedroom door, and Nick falls back to sleep.

~

Matt

She half dances out the door when Mox says he’s in the driveway. “Guess what?”

“What?” Mox asks. “Hi, by the way.”

Matt vaults up into the truck and slides over to kiss Mox. “Guess what I have?”

Mox frowns. “Um. I don’t know?”

“I have boobs,” Matt says. She can’t contain her excitement, can’t be normal about it. “Look!”

“Are you about to flash me?”

Matt rolls her eyes as she unzips her coat. “No, dumbass. I’m just showing you.” She pulls the shirt taut. They’re not big or anything, but they’re there, and they’re hers.

Mox nods. “You got boobs.”

“I did!”

Mox’s grin goes a little dirty. “Can I see ‘em?”

“Not here, but, yeah, eventually.” Matt grins back. “Once I move into the garage apartment, I’ll think we’ll have a few more opportunities.” She winks.

Mox swallows hard. “Yeah. Right. Um.”

He’s a little twitchy during their date, through the movie, through dinner, but Matt thinks it’s because he can’t stop looking at her boobs. It’s charming, in a way, the way he keeps dragging his eyes away and whispering in her ear how pretty she was the whole time.

“What even was that movie about?” Mox asks. “Like, do we know? Did you get any of it?”

Matt giggles, weaving their fingers together. “Well, there were multiple dance competitions, and somebody kissed in the end. So I’m thinking somebody fell in love.”

Mox’s eyes flickers over to her. “Yeah? You do?”

Matt shrugs, “Maybe.” She swings their hands. She wants to say it. She thinks she feels it.

But all she can think of us what Cody expected when she said it last time.

Matt recounts as much of the movie as she can remember as Mox drives her home, talking about it as much as she can so she doesn’t accidentally say something else she can’t take back. She knows Mox is different – he’s proven it a million times – but she’s just not ready to say it. Not yet. Not after last time.

The first thing Matt notices as Mox pulls into the driveway is that all the cars are gone. “Well would you look at that,” she says. “Looks like we’re home alone. Want me to show you what my new room is going to look like?”

Mox nods. “Yeah!” He pauses. “That was too excited, wasn’t it.”

“No,” Matt says. She hops out of the trick. “It was cute. I like when you get all eager like that. It reminds me of a puppy.”

“Why does everybody say I’m like a puppy?” Mox says, following her to the door. She pushes the door connecting the breezeway to the garage. “So, there’s a little bathroom down here,” she gestures to the corner, “which will be mine. It’s already done. We have a little more work to do on the bedroom, but it’s almost done.”

Mox follows her up the stairs, and Matt can practically feel his eyes on her.

“And here,” she says, “I’m thinking I’ll put the bed over here, and put the -”

“I got into State with a full scholarship,” Mox blurts out at the top of the stairs.

Matt turns around. “What?! You did?!”

Mox nods, relaxing. “Oh, my god. Sorry. You’ve just been talking, like, so much today, about your boobs, and then it was the movie, and then you were talking about the movie, and I was, like, sure you weren’t going to stop talking. So I wanted to make sure I got a chance to say it.”

Matt runs at him and yanks him into her arms. She hugs him as tightly as she can. “I’m so proud of you,” she murmurs into his chest. She pulls back. “That’s amazing! Early admission really means early, doesn’t it.”

Mox nods, then kisses Matt’s forehead. She feels warm. Comfortable. Safe. “I, um. I wanted to tell you. Since I know you applied there, too, but regular admission.” He pauses, then his eyes widen. “Not to tell you to go there! I want you to go wherever works best for you! But, um,” He pauses again. “I – one of the reasons I like the school so much is they have a really great queer club. And they’re really good with their trans students – they discipline anyone who does anything transphobic with names or genders.”

Matt lets herself smile a little bit. “You looked that up for me?”

“Of course, baby,” Mox says. “I want to make sure anywhere you go you’re taken care of.”

Matt’s resolve crumbles. She launches herself at Mox, arms around his neck, and he stumbles backward into the wall across from the stairs. He makes a weird little noise as he grabs at her back, her hips, her ass. A hand slides up to her stomach and she grabs his hand to push it up her shirt. She’s on fire as his fingertips graze across the fabric of her bra. Matt’s head is spinning with it, and she’s hard already, and she wants, she wants, she –

“Hold on,” Mox pants, dropping his head back against the wall. “Wait, babe, we haven’t – we haven’t talked about this.” He steps to the side. “Fuck.” He giggles and looks at her. “God, I.” He exhales and squeezes his eyes shut, bouncing a little. “Sorry. Trying to – trying to get my shit together, you know.”

Matt nods, lightheaded herself. “I know.” But she can’t exactly fight the feeling of rejection. “Do – do you not want to?”

Mox’s eyes widen. “Do I not – oh my god, of course I want to! Jesus, Matt you’re…” He trails off and looks her up and down. He looks hungry. Matt shivers under his gaze. “But we need to talk about – about what – words. Words need to happen. I don’t want to do anything either of us regret.”

“Oh.” Matt lets it sink in. “Talk? Like what talking?” She wonders if Mox is about to give her the same speech Cody did. “Like, how it doesn’t count unless you’re, like, having real sex?”

“What?” Mox asks, looking befuddled. “No. We – what?! God, you sound like Seth’s brother. No, about what you want, and what I want, and what you don’t want, and what, like. What…ways? You want to have sex?” He winces. “I know you and Cody were together for a while, and that you guys broke up bad. But, um. Have you – done – things?”

Matt nods. “Yeah. Cody, uh. Cody said the only thing that counts is real sex. Like, hand jobs and blow jobs? Don’t count.”

Mox gets the weirdest, pinched look on his face. “He said what?”

Matt shrugs. “I don’t know. He said it wasn’t real unless,” Matt tries to recall the words she’d been blocking out for almost a year, “‘somebody’s dick was in somebody’s hole’.”

“Ew,” Mox says. “Jesus. What a douchebag.”

Matt shrugs. She knows that now. She didn’t back then. “Yeah. He, uh. Yeah.”

“How about this,” Mox says. “How about we – we’ll talk about this later, more, right? Because clearly Cody wasn’t – Cody was a dick. And I don’t want to do anything like that.”

Matt smiles at him. “If it helps, you aren’t like him at all. He never made me feel the way you do.” It’s close. But Matt’s still not all the way ready to say it.

Mox opens his arms and Matt walks into them. Cody never made her feel like this either. Cody never stopped them to talk. It’s strange. “I’m glad,” Mox says into her hair. “I never want to make you feel anything but – but loved.” He pulls back. “And I’m not saying this to do anything or get anything, okay? But I love you. I don’t need you to say it back. I just need you to know.”

Matt tears up. “You do?” she asks, heart racing.

Mox nods. “Damn it. Now I made you cry.”

“I’m always crying lately,” she squeaks. She presses her face back into Mox’s chest, feeling warm and soft and loved. “These are good tears.”

They’re downstairs tossing popcorn in each other’s mouths while Great British Bakeoff plays in the background when Nick slams the door open, singing some horrible song.

“Oh, hey!” he says. “You look like you’re in a good mood. What’s up?”

Matt blushes. “Nothing.”

“You two are such nerds,” he says, chucking his backpack in their direction. Mox bats it away, then catches popcorn in his mouth. “I bet you watched TV the whole stupid night, huh?”

“No!” Matt says. “We also saw a movie!”

Mox sends a little grin over to Matt, something quick that only she could see. “Catch,” Matt says, chucking a handful of popcorn at Nick’s face. He drops his basketball and his phone as he dives to catch three in his mouth. “Yes!” he yells through the popcorn.

“That’s, like, a 40% catch rate,” Mox scoffs. “Matty, baby, let’s show him how it’s done.”

Matt and Nick’s dad shows up about twenty minutes later, silent as he takes in the scene. Matt is covered in popcorn, as is the floor. Nick has created a structure using his hoodie to launch the popcorn into his mouth. And Mox is on the floor, catching some of the popcorn Nick is missing.

“What on earth are the three of you doing?” he asks. “I hope you all know you’re in charge of cleaning this up.”

“Dad, catch!” Nick yells.

It takes ten minutes before the three of them stop laughing at the popcorn that catches in his beard.

~

They're all so DOPEY and I want them to be happy forever. Except for Cody. This Cody sucks.

[pinkfadespirit]

End of year fic writer round-up

Thank you for the tag @barbex! And Happy New Year everyone!

I’ll tag: @fandomn00blr, @goth-surana, @aria-i-adagio, @johaerys-writes, @sulky-valkyrie, @glowing-blue-feathermage, @potatowitch, @noire-pandora, @factorykat and the others I’ve tagged below and anyone else who might want to do this. 

This year I published 4 new stories on AO3, completed one old one and completed the first draft of a new fic that I’m hoping to start posting in January. 

Words written (published or not, WIPs included!): roughly around 150k if I include DADWC stuff. This year started out a bit slow writing wise but it really picked up for me towards the end of the year when I did the DA Create-a-thon and Nanowrimo back to back. I somehow managed to write over 80k in those two months. I’ve slowed down a lot since but I’m still feeling quite positive about my writing after it, which is great!

Smut scenes: I think 3 published ones. One or two unpublished. And there are a few in the fic I’m still editing but they’re mostly glossed over. I may go back and add more to them but I’m undecided on that for now. 

New things I tried: I wrote Nanders for the first time – which was also my first time writing Nathaniel’s POV and my first Awakening fic in general. 

Fic I spent the most time on: the fic that took me the longest to finish was the life that, here, awaits, which I worked on on and off throughout the year. But that was several short chapters with long breaks in between them. So the fic I spent the most time actively working on must have been the Justnanders fic I wrote in part for Nanowrimo. It’s the longest fic I wrote this year at 40k and I’m still working on editing it. 

Fic I spent the least time on: My Secret Sanders gift is the shortest one I have on AO3, if that counts (I know author reveals haven’t happened yet but I’m pretty sure it’s no mystery which one is mine for anyone who is at all familiar with my work - and my giftee has definitely figured it out lol). If that doesn’t count then Trouble Sleeping would probably be it. I can’t actually remember how long I spent on it, just that it’s my shortest work from this year outside of DADWC stuff. 

Favourite thing I wrote: Probably the Justnanders fic. Not officially titled yet but I’m thinking of calling it Not To Disappear (shamelessly stolen from the Daughter song/album). I don’t know if it’s the best thing I’ve written, but I enjoyed writing it and I’m even enjoying editing it so far, which is surprising for me. I think the fact that I’m not rushing myself to publish it is helping a lot with that.  

Favourite thing I read: I read Holy, Holy, Holy by @little--abyss not that long ago and I loved it. Really loved it - like in a ‘it’s been weeks and I’m still thinking about it’ way. Also, The Place Where I Belong by @dismalzelenka is amazing and I think everyone should read it. 

Writing goals for next year: First, I’d like to finish editing and post the Justnanders fic. I’ve filled in most of the placeholders up to chapter six out of eight for that so hopefully that won’t take too much longer. After that, I’d love to get back to All Falls Away. I never meant to take as long a break from that as I did, but I think it was a good thing in the end. I feel excited by the idea of picking it up again so that’s a definite improvement on how I felt about it when I put it on hold back in February.  I also have a Handers modern AU in the works. It was my first nano idea for this year but I ran out of steam after the first week and switched projects. Now I’m having lots of thoughts about it again, mostly just working on a playlist and letting scenes play out in my head but I’d like it to turn into a full fic one day. My main goal is not to get so distracted by exchanges this year and make some progress on some of the ideas I’ve had on hold over the last couple of years.

[em-dashes]

02.01.2023 - January Update

Total Word Count: 24030 (+6809 since last update)

Well...that was January.

You may remember (or not) but my January goal was to finish Part II of Suddence (as in, act two, not a sequel). I didn’t accomplish that...BUT!! I made up for it in other aspects.

(I realized this post was kind of long so I put it under the cut.)

For one, I made a comprehensive chart of all the chapters and their summaries. It helped a ton to see it all laid out like that because I was big struggling trying to figure out which chapter should go where and what should happen in each one to make the story flow better.

For two, THAT made me go back and change a lot of what I’ve written so far for Part II. This isn’t the “write messily and let future me figure it out” draft anymore. I need things to be relatively polished, if not prose-wise, then definitely story-wise.

I also realized yesterday that the chapters are getting longer than in Part I. That’s not a bad thing, just a little unexpected, because the previous chapters have all been so short. Chapter 1 is quite literally only one page long, a breezy 222 words. The most recently chapter is, at the moment, 2500 words long.

So anyway, a lesson I learned in this semi-drafting-semi-editing process is that sometimes, if a chapter isn’t working, it might help to change how / when it starts.

The most recent chapter (Chapter 18) follows Dany and Zahira as they go to a convenience store to buy a road map. Originally it starts with them in the car, on the way there, and no matter how much I finagled it, I couldn’t get the exposition to sound right, or for their conversation to flow, or for their relationship to feel like something, anything. It was cramping my style.

Yesterday (whilst in the shower, where all good ideas are born) I thought of a different way to start the chapter. It starts with them already at the store (in the washroom, of all places), and magically it was the perfect place to start. Suddenly I had room to explore the beginnings of Zahira’s older sister relationship to Dany, and I have a way better lead into the topic of Zahira’s ex-boyfriend Aaron, who is, in Dany’s words, a piece of shit. (But he’s trying his best. You’ll see...you’ll all see....)

In the beginning of February I’ll be taking a smol break from writing to work on my animation project (you can see some of my progress on @emieclat ). I find that it’s incredibly hard to be productive if I’m juggling two projects at once, so it’s best to set dedicated time aside for both.

Eventually I think I’ll have to make a slideshow post introducing Suddence. I did make an intro post for it a few months ago, but that was, well, a few months ago, and I can go into more detail in a slideshow format.

And now, an excerpt.

Outside, Zahira’s phone rings again. This time she digs it out with a growl and flicks it open like a knife.

“You got something to say?” she snaps into it. “I’m all ears. Let’s hear it.”

Aaron’s tinny voice says, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah? And why wouldn’t I be okay?” She stabs the pump into her car. I get the feeling she wishes she were stabbing something else.

“Look, I didn’t want this to happen,” Aaron says, and Zahira actually rolls her eyes this time. Not that half-roll I’ve seen her do. Her eyes go full white. “Those guys—I was just scared—”

“And you think I wasn’t scared?” Zahira exclaims.

“I didn’t—”

Zahira hangs up. And going by the extra buttons she’s pressing, she just blocked Aaron.

I climb to the driver side and roll down the window and say, “He sounds like a piece of shit.”