#Independent Learning Strategies

[realestateinvesting001]

How to Start Investing with Little Money: Easy Steps to Build Wealth for Beginners 💸✨

Hey, lovely readers! It’s Nada Azzouzi here, and today I’m breaking down how you can start investing—even with little money. If you’re new to the world of investing or think you need a large sum of money to begin, don’t worry! I’ll walk you through simple, easy steps you can start implementing today to build your wealth. 💪 Let’s get started! 🌱 Step 1: Start Small with Automation 💰 Tip number…

[creatingblackcharacters]

Well!

So first, let's clear a common misconception: no, President Abraham Lincoln did not love Black people nor see them as human equals. At best he was centrist about it (though, even his implication that 'exceptional' Black men ought to vote got him assassinated).

"My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or to destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do, it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone I would also do that. What I do about slavery, and the colored race, I do because I believe it helps to save the Union...I have here stated my purpose according to my view of official duty; and I intend no modification of my oft-expressed personal wish that all men everywhere could be free."

The "freeing of slaves" after the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863 was meant to kneecap the economic and military powers of the seceded South. Lettuce stop making a white savior figure out of Lincoln, or thinking that my people's shackles were unchained via anything other than desperate war strategy and extreme violence. Think on that, for a moment.

That being said!

But not everyone in Confederate territory would immediately be free. Even though the Emancipation Proclamation was made effective in 1863, it could not be implemented in places still under Confederate control. As a result, in the westernmost Confederate state of Texas, enslaved people would not be free until much later. Freedom finally came on June 19, 1865, when some 2,000 Union troops arrived in Galveston Bay, Texas. The army announced that the more than 250,000 enslaved black people in the state, were free by executive decree. This day came to be known as "Juneteenth," by the newly freed people in Texas.

Consider going through the Smithsonian website to learn about Juneteenth! Recognize why it's an actual day of freedom, versus July 4th and the independence of a select few.

[antonsautismlife]

Why I feel better now

The last time was hard, but now it's a bit better. I cried a lot and I sweated a lot. I ate a lot of unhealthy food but I didn't gain weight because I sweated such a lot. Now I think more positive / hopeful about moving into the new care home.

The reason I think more positive/ hopeful about moving is mainly a caretaker. He has adhd. He told me he thought like me when he was younger. I mean having death wish thoughts and fear of changes, but know he is different. He is 23, so his age is relatively near to my age.

He gives me hope and courage to change my life. I want to gain a bit more independence and want to learn to think more positively. I have already tried gaining independence a few times in my life, but due to restrictive thinking, I forced me to much more independence, which caused a lot of stress and aggression. Now I try to gain independence but don't go too far.

For example, in the last days, I made my own breakfast/dinner, but a caretaker was with me and talked with me while I made my breakfast because it reduces stress when someone is with me.

I think hopeful about moving into the new care home because I hope that they can help me with learning strategies to think more positive because it's a care home specialised on psychiatric conditions and they work together with therapists. Now, I try out mental health apps to learn to think more positively.

Ways which help me to gain independence and think more positive are engaging with my former special interest (the topic military) , imagining in my head I talk with people I like , using mental health apps and also a specific thought. The caretaker, which helped me, has a tattoo of the semi-colon, which has the meaning that a mental illness isn't the end and people recover. In my situation, I think of the semi-colon because yes, my life will change due to working on myself, so a part end, but a probably better part will start. Thinking this way helps because I was scared of changes, especially of more independence, but the fear is much much reduced now due to thinking this way.

Tomorrow I will move into the new care home and on Saturday is my 18th birthday.

[justposting1]

How This eBay Seller Retired at 40 Reselling Pre-Owned Clothes — And His Warning About 2 Big Mistakes Every Beginner Makes

Master the Art of eBay Reselling: Tips from a Pro Who Retired at 40 by Selling Pre-Owned Clothes Retired at 40? Discover This eBay Seller’s Secrets (and Avoid These Mistakes!) In 2008, Alex T. took his first step into the world of eBay reselling. What began as a solution to offload a broken cellphone turned into a full-fledged business empire. Today, at 40 years old, he’s retired, thanks to the…

[nicholasandriani]

Metacognition and Game-Based Learning. Notes on Scaffolding Education, Game Design and Graduate School

“EDUCATIONAL STRATEGIES IN THE CLASSROOMEnhancing Learning Through Self-Awareness and Critical ThinkingEducators have the power to nurture students’ self-knowledge by engaging them in activities that promote reflection on their learning journey. Understanding and managing one’s cognitive processes, known as metacognition, involves higher-order thinking skills that are critical to learning. This…

[kidsinnowadays]

Homework Hassles? 5 Effective Strategies to Help Your Child Excel in School

Explore practical methods to support your child's academic journey, ensuring homework becomes an opportunity for growth and achievement. #HomeworkHelp #SchoolSuccess #ParentingTips #AcademicExcellence

Homework is a significant aspect of a child’s academic journey, offering opportunities to reinforce classroom learning, develop time-management skills, and cultivate a sense of responsibility. However, it’s not uncommon for homework to become a source of stress and frustration for both children and parents. This article delves into the common challenges associated with homework and provides five…

[girlkisser13]

being married to erik lehnsherr would include

• erik is EXTREMELY protective of you. he uses his powers subtly to ensure your safety, like redirecting bullets or stopping potential threats without you even noticing.

• when you’re driving he will use his powers to move a car over if he thinks that they’re drifting into your lane.

• as his partner, you have a significant role in his plans and strategies. your insights and ideas are crucial, and he trusts you implicitly with major decisions.

• balancing erik’s often ruthless methods with your own moral compass can be challenging. you constantly strive to find a middle ground, helping him see different perspectives while understanding his deep-rooted convictions.

• erik loves to shares his vast experiences from different historical events, giving you a unique perspective on history and the evolution of mutant-human relations.

• being with erik means constantly learning and evolving. he encourages you to hone your skills, whether they’re related to your powers (if you have any) or other talents.

• despite his tough exterior, erik shows his softer side only to you. his love for you is profound and unwavering, and he cherishes every moment spent with you.

• you both enjoy challenging each other intellectually. debates are a common occurrence, and they often end in mutual respect and deeper understanding of each other's viewpoints.

• erik shows his love in small, meaningful ways, like always having your favorite tea ready or ensuring you have a warm blanket when you’re cold, using his powers to fetch things without you asking.

• you both share a strong commitment to the mutant cause. whether it’s through activism, helping mutants in need, or fighting against oppression, your relationship is a powerful force for change.

• despite the constant battles and responsibilities, erik always makes time for private getaways with you. these retreats are a chance to relax, reconnect, and enjoy each other’s company away from the chaos.

• HIM LETTING YOU WEAR HIS HELMET>>>

• the two of you often host gatherings for the mutant community, providing a space for mutants to connect, share their stories, and support each other. these events are filled with a sense of unity and purpose.

• trust is the cornerstone of your relationship. despite the challenges and dangers, you both have unwavering loyalty to each other, knowing that your bond is unbreakable.

• erik respects your independence and ensures that responsibilities are shared equally. whether it’s managing your home or leading missions, you both contribute and support each other’s strengths.

• if you have children, erik is a fiercely protective and loving parent. he’s dedicated to teaching them about their heritage, powers, and the importance of fighting for their rights.

• GIRL DAD MAGNETO>>>

• i mean come on, it’s basically canon that this man is a girl dad. look at the way he treats wanda and lorna compared to pietro.

• he occasionally shows off his abilities in small, romantic gestures, like creating intricate metal sculptures for you and arranging a metal flower bouquet that never wilts.

• your house is adorned with thousands of metal flowers he's crafted for you.

• he's also made countless pieces of jewelry for you as well.

• he made your wedding ring himself. <33

[alberryconsulting]

Dr. Almitra Berry leads you on a transforming journey in this stirring episode to help children and young people of colour reach their greatest potential. Join us as we explore the crucial subject of agency and its significant influence on children's achievement. Find out how to empower parents, carers, educators, and leaders to promote children's agency and allow them the freedom to make decisions on their own that are in line with their objectives and desires. Dr. Berry contests the victimisation narrative by highlighting the innate intellect, resilience, and potential for success of children. Don't miss this inspiring episode as we inspire every youngster to achieve greatness.

[spencersmopbucket]

Polar Opposites | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: When you joined the team, it was very evident to the others that you and Spencer may not get along the best. You were water and he was oil — but when working on a team, the repelling can be dangerous. Themes & Warnings: Ummm violence, hurt/comfort with Reid!, enemies to lovers

You were raised in New York. Alone. No siblings or mother.

Learning independence was quick for you. By the time you were eight, you were walking yourself to school, a keychain with the apartment key and a bottle of pepper spray dangling from it. You were tough, bull-headed, but not completely absent of warmth.

Your father was a good man. A strong one. He was on the NYPD, a conductor of justice, yet a fair one. You idolized him, even when he came home with blood on his knuckles and exhaustion in his bones. You learned early that justice wasn't always clean, and rarely kind.

You quickly learned from him.

When you were old enough, he put you into self defense classes. It wasn't much of a surprise to him that you immediately excelled.

He watched proudly as you took down grown men twice your size in the ring, never once hesitating. “You fight like your mother,” he told you once. You didn’t remember her, not really, but something about the way he said it made your chest swell.

You lived by his rules. Protect others. Never back down. Trust your gut, even when it got you in trouble.

By the time you were a teenager, you were patrolling with a police scanner on in the background of your homework, studying both algebra and 10-codes. While other girls wore lip gloss and whispered about boys, you were memorizing the NY penal code and learning how to hold a Glock.

As soon as you could, you joined your father on the force. Not quite where he was. He was pretty far up. But you made him proud, which is all you wanted.

Every commendation, every collar, every time you kept your cool when things went sideways — he’d clap a firm hand on your shoulder and say, “That’s my girl.” And that was enough. It had always been enough.

Until it wasn’t.

The night he didn’t come home changed everything.

You were the one who got the call. Not the captain. Not some rookie liaison. You. Because you were his emergency contact. Because they knew you’d want to hear it straight, from the mouth of someone who cared.

Officer down. Ambush. Three men. Two with priors, one on a vendetta. He died fighting, they said. Died protecting his partner.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t speak for almost twenty-four hours.

Instead, you scrubbed his blood out of his badge chain, boxed up his medals, and sat for hours in his worn recliner with your service pistol in your lap, staring into nothing.

The grief didn’t crush you. It carved you.

By the time you left the NYPD, you weren’t the same person. And maybe that was the point. You needed something new. Somewhere that didn’t hold his shadow in every alley, every precinct, every call sign on the radio.

The BAU wasn’t your first choice. Behavioral analysis wasn’t your strength. You didn’t have three PhDs or a mind built for chess moves and statistics. But they recruited you anyway. Hotch said your field instincts were unmatched, that you had a gut that couldn't be taught.

You were strong. Your suffering had hardened you into a diamond. But you did have a flaw. Sometimes, you rushed into things without strategy, relying on strength and impulse. You were more physically lead than others on the team, opting for the take-down rather than the talk-down.

This was what made you so different from the team's boy genius, Spencer Reid.

He wasn't the softest anymore himself. He was hardened by his abduction by Tobias Hankel, his drug addiction, his prison time, the loss of his first lover. But he didn't let it change him completely. He was still warm, like he'd been before. Still sweet. And he still did his job the same; in the same calculating, analyzing Reid way. He was more logic based than aggression based.

And that’s where you clashed.

Where you were storm and instinct, Spencer was method and measure. He needed answers before action. You needed action before the body count climbed. He quoted psychological journals; you trusted a gut that had never failed you. It was oil and water from the very beginning.

The team noticed it immediately — the sharp way you challenged his statistics, the way his mouth drew tight every time you went off-book, the way both of you refused to yield. Rossi called it "professional tension." Morgan called it "foreplay." Hotch just warned you both not to let it interfere in the field.

Of course, it did anyway.

It had been a difficult case.

A serial killer, targeting women, as was typical. It was a sensitive situation, requiring delicate action and careful steps.

The investigation went fine — smooth actually. It was easy enough to profile and find the man, but the hostage situation needed to be handled much softer.

He was holding a young woman in a cage, down below his house in a bunker. You, Reid, Prentiss, and Morgan were sent to do the confrontation.

The four of you approached the property quietly. The woods surrounding the cabin were thick and silent, the late afternoon sun bleeding orange through the trees. Reid had his tablet out, blueprints of the house and rough sketches of the underground bunker on display. You barely glanced at it.

“We can’t spook him,” Prentiss said, voice low. “If he thinks he’s cornered—”

“He might kill her,” Reid finished grimly. “He’s already escalated twice. He’s unpredictable under pressure.”

That was Spencer’s way — anticipate the worst, measure every variable. Your jaw clenched.

“Then we don’t give him time to react,” you said, cocking your weapon. “He’s not expecting a full team yet. We move fast, controlled. Get in, get her out.”

Spencer’s head shot up. “No. We stick to the protocol. We make contact, distract him, and—”

“There is no protocol for a man holding a girl in a fucking cage, Reid.”

Your voice was sharper than it needed to be, but you didn’t care. The thought of that girl locked up like an animal made your skin crawl. Every second wasted was another scar, another trauma she’d carry forever.

“Exactly. Which is why we don’t risk charging in blind,” he snapped back, stepping in front of you. “You go in there guns blazing and he could slit her throat before you even get your second step down that ladder.”

Morgan’s hand landed on your shoulder, a warning. “Both of you — not the time.”

But you weren’t done.

“Then what? We just talk to him? Offer him therapy? Hope he suddenly sees the light?”

Reid’s eyes blazed. “No. But we don’t rush in and make it worse. You want to save her? Then don’t be the reason she dies.”

It hit harder than you expected. Maybe because deep down, you knew he was right. Maybe because you hated being wrong in front of him.

The plan went Spencer’s way. At first.

You reached them. The man was sweaty, eyes wild. The girl moaned quietly in front of him, wrestling around in the heavy chains she was bound by.

Reid and Prentiss attempted a talk-down.

The unsub paced behind the girl like a panicked animal, holding a long hunting knife inches from her throat. His eyes flicked between Prentiss and Reid, twitchy and erratic, the delusion already thick in the air.

“I didn’t hurt her!” he barked. “I fed her, didn’t I?! She’s mine now — I chose her!”

You could practically feel the tension radiating off Spencer. He stood just a step in front of Prentiss, hands raised, calm as ever — but you knew him well enough to see the strain in his jaw, the slight tremble in his fingers.

“You’re not in trouble,” Spencer said gently, voice even. “You’ve been through a lot. No one wants to hurt you, we just want to help her. Let her go. We can talk, just you and me.”

The unsub twitched. “She loves me,” he muttered, jabbing the blade toward the girl’s collarbone. She whimpered again, and your own hand inched toward your holster.

“Reid,” you said quietly. A warning.

But he held up one hand. Not yet.

“You’re right,” he said to the unsub. “You did choose her. You saw something in her. That’s important. That means you care about her, right?”

The man’s breathing hitched — confused. Hopeful.

Then it happened.

She whimpered again — too loud. Too broken. Something in her tone must have snapped the illusion in his head. Because suddenly he screamed, pulled her tighter, and raised the knife.

You moved before anyone else could.

Gun drawn, aim steady, you crossed the space in two steps and tackled him. Your shoulder collided with his ribs, knocking him clean off the girl. You wrestled the knife from his hand and had him on the ground in seconds, arm wrenched behind his back.

You barely heard the girl sobbing as Prentiss rushed to her side. Barely heard Morgan’s footsteps pounding down the stairs. All you could hear was the pounding of your own pulse.

“God damn it,” Reid muttered from behind you. Not angry. Not even frustrated.

Worried.

The rest was a blur.

Back at the precinct, the girl had been taken to the hospital. The unsub was in custody. Everyone was safe.

But Spencer didn’t say a word to you until you were alone.

The motel hallway was dim and quiet, carpet patterned with decades of wear. You turned when you heard his door click shut behind him.

“You weren’t supposed to go in,” he said. Quiet. Low.

You crossed your arms. “And if I hadn’t, she might be dead.”

“She might be,” he agreed. “Or you might be. We all might've been. You can’t keep putting yourself in the line like that without thinking. You don’t get to be the only one who carries the risk. Not to mention what risk it puts on the other teammates.”

You blinked. Something about the way he said it — like you'd selfishly put everyone in danger.

Your eyes narrowed.

"How come you're always shitting on my busts, Reid? You ever think that one of these times, you might wait too long and get someone killed?"

He swallowed, his face tightening.

"Don't turn this around on me. You continuously stray from protocol like you're above the rest of us. If you just followed directions, I wouldn't have to complain."

You felt the flare of heat in your chest — insult, frustration, maybe even guilt. But underneath all of it, something deeper: hurt.

"Above the rest of you?" you repeated, voice low. Dangerous. "Is that really what you think of me?"

Reid held your stare, but there was a flicker of regret in his eyes now. He hadn’t meant to cut that deep. Or maybe he had. Maybe it had built up between you for so long, he hadn’t realized the blade was that sharp.

“I think you act like you don’t need us,” he said. “Like you don’t trust anyone but yourself. And in this job, that’s not just frustrating, it’s fatal.”

You laughed once, dryly. “Well, maybe I don’t trust anyone else. Maybe I learned a long time ago that trust doesn’t keep you alive.”

That landed. His expression cracked. Because if there was one thing Spencer Reid understood, it was the cost of trusting the wrong people. Or worse, not trusting the right ones until it was too late.

"You need to ease up. Trusting someone besides yourself might keep you alive one day," He hissed, leaning into your face. "You act like a stubborn, impulsive fool."

You scoffed, a snide smirk curling onto your face.

"That's better than constant fear and anxiety. I'd rather be too quick than too slow, Reid," your cold voice biting into him. "You're so busy tucking back into your turtle shell that you don't realize how much time you waste being afraid."

His eyes darkened, a flicker of something fierce igniting behind the calm intellect you knew so well.

“Being cautious doesn’t mean I’m afraid,” he snapped back, voice low but sharp. “It means I’m trying to think. Something you never do until after the damage is done.”

You stepped closer, your breath mingling with his in the tight hallway. “Yeah, well maybe it’s better to act first and think later than to be paralyzed by what-ifs. At least I move.”

You stood face to face, a silent snarl shared between the two of you. Spencer took another breath to snap back, but you were interrupted.

"Guys. Enough. The jet is about to take off." Prentiss said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged her off, slinging your bag over it instead.

"It's cool. I was done being questioned about my successful take-down anyways." You muttered, walking away.

Spencer watched you go, the frustration still simmering beneath his calm exterior. His jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on him. He wanted to say more; to tell you that beneath his caution was a desperate hope you’d be safe, that he cared more than he knew how to show.

But for now, he let the silence stretch, knowing this was just one battle in a longer war between you. And maybe, just maybe, there was a way to bridge the gap, if only you’d both lower your guards.

The jet ride was tense. You didn't even look at Spencer, opting to pretend he wasn't there. He couldn't help but glance at you, the brooding look always on your face no different than usual. He sighed, returning to his book.

Back at the office, you shoved your go-bag back into your locker. The photo of your father glinted at you, stuck to the back of the door. You knew what he would've said.

You traced the edges of the photo with a tired finger, the worn image of your father — a man who’d always been your anchor in chaos — reminding you of the rules he drilled into you:

"Protect others."

"Never back down."

"Trust your gut."

"I'm so proud of you, kid."

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat, the weight of those words settling deep inside you. You’d carried his lessons like armor all these years — tough, unyielding, sometimes too sharp to wield without cutting yourself.

You stared at his image for a few more seconds, before turning away.

You jumped. Morgan, standing behind you.

"Jesus." You said, taking a deep breath. "Don't sneak up on me like that, dude."

Morgan chuckled, his usual easy grin softening the tension in the room. “Yeah, well, somebody’s gotta keep you on your toes.”

He glanced at the photo taped inside your locker. “Your old man sounds like a hell of a guy.”

You nodded, voice quieter now. “He was. Still is… in a way.”

Morgan leaned against the lockers, folding his arms. “You know, you don’t always have to carry all that weight alone. Not here. Not with us.”

You met his eyes, the sincerity there catching you off guard. For a moment, the walls you’d built felt a little less necessary.

"... Thank you."

Morgan nodded, leaning against the lockers.

"I heard you and Reid had a little spat in the hotel earlier."

You rolled your eyes, grumbling. Of course, Prentiss would've squealed.

Morgan’s grin widened, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah, I heard. Something about Spencer getting a little too in your space?”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “He’s got a knack for pushing buttons. Doesn’t know when to quit.”

Morgan shook his head, chuckling low. “That guy’s all brain and nerves. Sometimes he forgets there’s a person behind all that genius.”

You glanced away, feeling a mix of irritation and something softer beneath it. “I get it, but I’m not exactly easy to handle either.”

He leaned against the locker beside yours, eyes steady. “Look, I get it. You did what you had to do back there. You saved that girl.”

Your jaw tightened. “You think I don’t know that?”

Morgan shook his head. “No, I’m saying I see it. You’re a damn good agent. One of the best. But sometimes being the best means knowing when to slow down.”

You scoffed, bitterness creeping into your voice. “Slowing down gets people killed.”

Morgan didn’t flinch. “It’s not about slowing down all the time. It’s about picking your moments. You got guts, no doubt. But guts without control? That’s a problem.”

You finally met his gaze, raw and honest. “So what am I supposed to do, Morgan? Wait around for the bad guy to slit her throat? Let the clock run out?”

He studied you for a beat, then responded slowly. “No. But you gotta trust the team. Not just yourself. We got your six. We all do. Even Reid. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

You swallowed hard. The weight of his words settled in your chest. It was easier said than done. You were used to standing on your own — had been for as long as you could remember.

Morgan clapped a hand on your shoulder, solid and reassuring. “Your dad taught you to protect others, right?”

Your eyes flickered to the photo taped inside your locker, the man who was everything steady in your world.

Morgan smiled softly. “Yeah. And that means sometimes you gotta step back, watch the angles, think a few moves ahead. That’s how you protect the team and yourself.”

The tension between you seemed to ease, just a little. You weren’t used to advice that didn’t come with judgment, but this was different. It was real.

Morgan gave you a wink. “You’re a hell of a cop. Don’t forget, sometimes the smartest move is patience. Not just power.”

You nodded, the edges of your defenses softening just enough for a flicker of respect. “Thanks, Morgan. I’ll try.”

“Try?” He grinned. “No try. You’ll do it.”

You smirked back. “Yeah? You confident in me?”

“Hell yeah. Just gotta let the team catch up sometimes. And don't forget,” he said, nudging your shoulder. "We could all learn some things from you too. Even Reid, when he decides to get his head out of his ass."

You snickered, rolling your eyes and turning back to your locker, shutting it.

“Thanks for the reality check.”

“Anytime,” he said, before turning and walking away, leaving you with something you didn’t realize you needed — a little hope.

The next case came quickly. You almost weren't ready for it.

Your headphones blared into your ears as you trained in the sparring room, sweating as you bounced around a punching bag. Your gloves squeaked with every moment you made, punching into the bag with preciseness and toughness.

Your phone rang.

You yanked a glove off with your teeth and fumbled for your phone, the sweat on your fingers making it harder to swipe. The name on the screen — Hotch — made your stomach tighten. You were still riding the edge of your last conversation with Morgan, and now, here came another case.

“Yeah?” you answered, a little breathless.

Hotch’s voice was calm, clipped. “Briefing room. Twenty minutes.”

You wiped your brow with the back of your forearm. “Copy that.”

He hung up without another word.

You stood there for a beat, the bass of your music still thumping in one ear. The punching bag rocked gently beside you, evidence of your focused aggression. But the tension in your shoulders hadn’t eased. If anything, it pulled tighter.

Another case. Another town. Another family ruined. You loved this job but sometimes, it felt like it never let you breathe.

With a grunt, you unwrapped your gloves, tossing them in your gym bag. As you pulled your hoodie over your damp sports bra and headed for the showers, Morgan’s words echoed back in your head:

“Sometimes the smartest move is patience. Not just power.”

You smirked faintly to yourself, voice muttering under your breath, “Yeah, well... I hope patience works on serial killers too.”

You had no idea what you were walking into, but you knew this much: you'd face it head-on.

Just like always.

You pulled your work clothes on quickly and headed for the bullpen, tossing your hair into a ponytail.

The rest of the team was already there, relieved to see you walk in.

"Sorry. I was training." You said quietly, joining them at the table.

Hotch gave you a nod — his version of “no problem.” Reid glanced up from the file in his hands, his eyes catching yours for a moment before flicking back down. You weren’t sure what that look meant, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“Victim number three was found this morning,” Hotch began, passing a photo across the table. “Female, early thirties. Same MO. Ligature marks, posed postmortem, and a red ribbon tied around the wrist.”

You leaned forward, studying the image. “Same as the others. No signs of forced entry?”

JJ shook her head. “Nothing. It’s like they let the killer in willingly.”

You crossed your arms, thoughts already sharpening like blades. “So he’s charming, disarming. Makes them feel safe… until he doesn’t.”

Morgan pointed at the map. “All victims lived alone, all in a five-mile radius. He’s hunting in a comfort zone.”

Spencer cleared his throat, hesitant but determined. “Geographical profiling supports that. He’s probably familiar with the area -- might even live or work nearby.”

You glanced at him again, this time holding the look for a second longer. “Then we start knocking on doors.”

Prentiss gave a wry smile. “I like it when you get fired up.”

You shrugged, grabbing a file. “Better than sitting on our hands.”

Hotch raised a brow. “Let’s keep it focused. Morgan, you and (Y/N) check in with local businesses. Reid, JJ, and Prentiss, canvass the neighborhood. I’ll coordinate with local PD.”

You nodded.

"I know that PD pretty well. My dad and I worked with them for a couple of years. I'll pitch in with the communications."

Hotch gave a curt nod, clearly appreciating the initiative. “Good. Familiarity could speed things up. Just make sure they loop everything back to me.”

You gave him a short, respectful salute. “You got it, boss.”

Morgan shot you a quick grin as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “You sure you’re not trying to take Hotch’s job?”

You smirked. “Please. I’d make a terrible brooding authority figure.”

Hotch didn’t even look up from the map he was marking. “I’m standing right here.”

You and Morgan exchanged a glance, both biting back laughter.

As the team filed out, Reid hesitated at the edge of the room. He glanced at you, like he wanted to say something, but then just gave a slight nod and walked away with JJ and Prentiss.

Your eyes lingered on his back for a second before you turned and fell into step beside Morgan.

“So,” he said as you headed for the SUV, “you and local PD go way back?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My dad and I used to consult on cases when I was younger. He was training me even before I joined the Bureau. Some of those officers were practically family for a while.”

Morgan nodded slowly, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a thoughtful smile. “That explains a lot.”

“What does?”

“You move like someone who’s been doing this their whole life. It’s in your blood.”

You paused at the passenger door, his words landing heavier than he probably intended.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “It is.”

Morgan didn’t push. He just clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Then let’s go show ‘em how it’s done.”

You gave him a small smile. “Hell yeah.”

You slid into the seat, heart steadier than it had been in days. Maybe the next few hours would be hell. Maybe this case would crack something raw in you. But with Morgan’s support at your side and your father’s instincts still pulsing through your veins, you weren’t going in blind.

You were ready to hunt.

No sooner had you and Morgan hit the pavement than the scent of tension in the air thickened, like something dark had just passed through and left its mark. The PD station felt different now than it did when you were younger. Familiar faces looked more worn, more guarded.

“Agent (L/N),” one of the lieutenants greeted you with a surprised smile. “Heard you were coming in. Damn, you look more and more like your old man every time I see you.”

You gave him a short nod, your voice quiet. “Thanks, Lieutenant. Wish it were under better circumstances.”

Morgan stood back slightly, letting you take the lead. He watched as you moved through the room with purpose; calm, steady, authoritative in your own way. You weren’t trying to be your father, but his legacy lingered around you like armor.

“We’ve already pulled security cam footage from nearby businesses,” the lieutenant explained. “We can have it queued up for you in five.”

“Perfect. Let’s get started.”

Morgan leaned over to you as they set things up in the back room. “You’ve got them listening to you like you’re already in charge.”

You gave a tired shrug. “My dad never tolerated anyone doing half a job. I guess that stuck.”

He studied your face for a moment — sharp, focused, a little worn around the eyes. Then he said, “You know, you don’t always have to be the one holding it all together.”

You glanced at him, surprised.

“You said that already,” you reminded him.

He shrugged. “You didn’t listen the first time.”

You laughed under your breath, but your eyes softened. “I’m listening now.”

Before either of you could say more, an officer called you over. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

The footage was grainy but clear enough: a figure pacing outside a bakery at midnight. Twitchy. Darting glances. Then dragging something — someone — down an alley.

Morgan muttered under his breath. “Looks like our guy.”

Your expression shifted instantly. Calm became alert. You pointed to the timestamp. “That’s two hours before the last body was found. He was still escalating.”

The lieutenant nodded grimly. “He’s getting bolder.”

Morgan stepped beside you, already scanning the angle, escape routes, signage. “What do you want to do?”

You took a breath, already forming a plan.

“We start there,” you said, pointing to the alley. “We follow the trail. And this time, we end it before he escalates again.”

Morgan gave a sharp nod. “Now that’s the kind of leadership I can get behind.”

You smirked faintly. “Don’t get used to it.”

He grinned back. “Too late.”

You quickly phoned the rest of the team, getting them in on it. It was decided.

You'd be bait — the youngest on the team. The prettiest, Prentiss had claimed. But it would take something you weren't exactly versed in.

Patience. Calculation. Thought before decision.

You, of course, had too look like less than an agent. That night, you had to get prepared, dressing down from your usual slacks and dress shirt and opting for a more.. casual.. look.

Garcia, JJ, and Prentiss just couldn't wait to get their hands on you. It was a once in a life time opportunity.

You barely made it into the hotel room before the ambush.

“There she is!” Prentiss announced, arms crossed with a smug grin. JJ was already holding up two hangers, each with an outfit. Garcia was seated cross-legged on the bed with a massive makeup bag splayed open in front of her like a battlefield.

You blinked. “Did you guys.. Were you waiting for me?”

JJ smirked. “Garcia brought supplies.”

Garcia didn’t even look up. “Sweet cheeks, I have been dreaming of this day since you joined the team. And now… finally…” She lifted a compact like a weapon forged in heaven. “The day has come.”

“This isn’t a makeover montage,” you muttered.

“Oh, but it is,” Prentiss said, grabbing your wrist and tugging you into the middle of the room. “You’re going undercover as vulnerable, off-duty eye candy. We’re making sure you sell it.”

“Guys,” you sighed. “This isn’t Clueless. I’m bait for a serial killer, not a Tinder date.”

“Exactly,” JJ said, tossing a pair of stockings onto the bed. “So you need to look like someone who doesn’t know she’s being watched. Not like someone who could break someone’s nose with two fingers.”

The scene was a bar. Wasting some time inside of it, sipping on a few prop drinks all alone, before stumbling out into the alley where he'd most likely take his chances on you.

You had to look the part. The mysterious, lonely temptress who would go quietly if grabbed.

You were forced into a short, red dress, one that hugged your curves and showed off the length of your smooth legs. Your hair was curled, natural makeup on your already pretty face.

You were gorgeous. Not that you weren't usually. But this was much different than your slick-back ponytail and business only outfit, a gun hanging from your holster.

Garcia let out a dramatic gasp when you stepped out of the bathroom.

“Oh. My. God.” she breathed, eyes widening. “You’re not just bait, you're irresistible temptation. Marry me.”

Prentiss gave a low whistle. “Remind me to never stand next to you in public again.”

JJ smirked. “He won’t stand a chance. Poor bastard.”

You tugged at the hem of the red dress, fidgeting. It was shorter than anything you usually wore. Hell, it was shorter than anything Garcia usually wore. “I feel like a walking target.”

“That’s the point,” Prentiss said, coming up behind you to fix a loose curl. “But don’t forget. You’re still the most dangerous one in the room.”

Garcia handed you a tiny clutch with your wire and phone inside. “And just in case he gets any ideas before the alley, Reid and Morgan will be watching from the bar. Hotch and I are set up in the surveillance van. You’re never alone.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror again. It was surreal, like staring at a version of yourself that only existed in smoke and mirrors. A version soft enough to lure in a killer. A version smart enough to trap him.

You took a breath. Deep. Steady.

“I can do this,” you muttered.

“You will do this,” JJ corrected firmly, her voice resolute. “And when you bring this guy down, I want my red dress back.”

You laughed softly, the nerves settling into something colder, more useful. “You got it.”

As the three women saw you off, Prentiss stopped you with a hand on your arm. “Hey. You’re more than bait. You’re the one drawing him out. That makes you the one in control.”

You stepped outside, meeting Morgan and Reid at the undercover vehicle, a sleek black SUV. They stood talking by the passenger's door, only noticing you approaching when you got close.

Morgan was the first to look up; and his reaction was immediate.

His brows rose, a low whistle slipping out as he took in your appearance. “Damn. Remind me what we’re trying to catch again? Because I think you just stunned me.”

Reid, less composed, blinked rapidly. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Y-You, uh, wow. You look…” His brain clearly short-circuited.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Careful, boys. I’m armed.”

Morgan laughed, clapping Reid on the back as if to snap him out of his stupor. “You good, pretty boy? Need a second to reboot?”

Reid cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets and very intentionally looking at the SUV instead of you. “I’m fine. Let's move out.”

Without another word, Reid hopped into the car, leaving you and Derek in silence. You rolled your eyes as Derek opened the door to let you get in.

Morgan held the door open with a crooked grin. “You know, I’ve seen you break a man’s nose with the butt of your Glock… but somehow, this might be the most dangerous I’ve ever seen you.”

You scoffed, climbing into the SUV. “Save it for Garcia.”

In a few short minutes, you were at your destination. You got out, securing the wire into a hidden place as Reid and Morgan looked around. You tossed your curls behind your shoulder and cleared your throat.

"Alright. In the bar for fifteen minutes, twenty at most. If he approaches you, play coy. If he doesn't, we still have a chance to lure him in the back alley," Morgan explained, securing his own wire and tucking his gun. "We're more likely to see him out there. He's struck in that area quite a few times."

You nodded.

"Don't be afraid. We'll be right there with you, just at a distance. If you're ever too uncomfortable to stand it, call for us."

You made a gesture of agreement to Morgan before finally glancing at Reid, who cleared his throat.

"Just.. Don't jump the gun." He said. He somewhat failed to keep the entitlement in his voice. You wondered what was plaguing him, but nonetheless, you ignored it, rolling your eyes.

"I got it, Reid. Don't worry. Your teachings will be on my psyche the whole time."

Reid’s jaw ticked slightly, clearly unsatisfied with your response but unwilling to push further — at least not in front of Morgan.

Morgan, on the other hand, was watching the two of you like he was sitting court-side. “Alright, kids,” he said, breaking the tension with a raised brow. “Let’s not make this a pissing contest. We’ve got a predator to catch, not egos to babysit.”

You smirked, giving Morgan a thumbs up as you reached for the bar door. But before you could step out, Reid finally spoke again, softer this time, less sharp.

“Just… be careful. Please.”

You paused, turning slightly to look at him. There it was. Underneath all the attitude and irritation — the worry. The fear. The unspoken something that had been simmering between you both since that stupid hotel argument.

You gave a nod. “I will.”

And then you stepped out, heels clicking against the pavement, shoulders square, mask slipping into place.

You weren’t the agent now. You were the bait.

For a while, it was dead.

You sat at the bar, sipping on a "vodka soda," looking around. You tried your best to keep your emotions off from your face, opting for a more bored look. Your legs were crossed. People filtered in, people filtered out. The music changed. Drinks were poured, people surrounded you. A few approached, but not the one you needed.

You checked the time subtly, tilting your wrist just enough to catch the glint of the watch Garcia had modified for comms. Seventeen minutes. A little longer than planned, but not enough to call it yet. You could feel their eyes on you, Morgan’s and Reid’s from their respective vantage points, watching every shift of your posture like hawks.

The bartop was sticky, the lighting dim, casting sultry shadows that you knew looked calculated from afar. You took another slow sip, letting your eyes drift across the room again. A man at the end of the bar caught your gaze, held it for a beat too long.

But he turned away. Not him.

Your fingers tapped lightly against your glass, nails clicking in a slow rhythm.

Patience. Not just power.

You breathed out through your nose, subtle and quiet. You could play this game.

Just when your boredom began to feel a little too real, movement in your periphery made your eyes flick. A man near the jukebox — tall, late 30s, scruffy beard, not quite drunk but deliberately slow in his movements. Alone. Observing. Not playing music.

He looked at you.

You tilted your head slightly, uncrossing and recrossing your legs. Deliberate. Casual. Vulnerable.

He didn’t move.

But now you knew.

That was him.

And he was watching.

You cleared your throat, turning away and looking disinterested, until you felt his presence get closer and closer. Then, he was right beside you.

"Out here all alone?"

You didn’t look at him right away. You let the question hang for a beat, took a slow sip of your drink, kept your eyes ahead like someone unsure whether to entertain the voice or pretend they hadn’t heard it.

Then you turned, just a little. Just enough for your lashes to lift slowly, eyes finding his. Soft. Unassuming.

You gave a half-smile. “Depends who’s asking.”

He chuckled lowly, like he’d practiced it. Like he wanted it to sound charming but didn’t quite have the tone right. “Just someone who hates to see a pretty girl looking so bored.”

You glanced around the room lazily, then back at him. “Well. Not exactly a thrilling place to be alone.”

His eyes scanned you too thoroughly. It made your skin crawl, but you didn’t flinch.

He leaned on the bar beside you. “Maybe I could change that.”

You shifted, letting your knee graze his thigh — accidentally, on purpose. “Maybe you could.”

From the comms in your ear, you could barely catch Morgan’s low voice: “He’s on her. Stay ready.”

You gave the stranger one last smile before looking down into your glass. “Buy me a refill?”

He motioned to the bartender. “Vodka soda, right?”

You nodded. “Good memory.”

He grinned, and that time it reached his eyes. Just a flash. Something darker.

Bingo.

Your heart kicked up. But your face never betrayed it. You leaned in, just slightly, pretending to laugh at something he hadn’t said.

You held a conversation easily, as if you'd been doing this forever. You barely nursed your drink, immersing yourself into fooling him more than anything else. You crossed your fingers.

And soon, it came. The question you needed.

"You wanna get out of here?" He asked gruffly, a hand coming up to stroke your exposed collar bone. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to snap his arm, slam him to the floor and cuff him immediately.

But you thought about what Spencer had said.

Contemplation. Patience. The art of being cautious. It was just as useful as the fire you usually lit onto anyone you apprehended.

You took a slow breath through your nose, keeping your smile soft, a little shy. You let your eyes flick down, like you were considering it. Like you hadn’t just felt bile rise in your throat at the weight of his hand.

This was the moment. The danger curled just beneath your skin, thrumming like a second pulse.

“Yeah,” you said, voice a little breathier, like nerves. “I could use some air.”

He smiled — victory, hunger, maybe both — and slid off his stool, his hand brushing down your arm as if he had the right.

Morgan’s voice was calm but firm in your earpiece. “She’s moving. Everyone hold position. Reid, keep visual.”

You followed him toward the door, a little slower than necessary, stumbling just enough to play into it. “Sorry,” you muttered with a nervous laugh. “Maybe I had one too many.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, holding the door open. “I’ll take care of you.”

The night hit you like a slap of reality — cold, quiet, real. Your heels clicked against pavement as he guided you down the sidewalk, toward the alley behind the bar.

Your breath hitched. Not from fear. From instinct. The part of you that was still an agent. Still ready to fight, to break him, to stop this before he could touch another woman.

But you stayed in character. You stayed the part.

“Reid,” Morgan’s voice came again. “Do you have eyes?”

There was a long beat before Spencer replied, voice low, strained. “Yes. He’s guiding her down the alley. Don’t move yet.”

You felt it in his voice. You'd felt it since your argument. The tension. The fear. The anticipation. There was something different about the way Reid talked to you, talked about you, ever since your moment in the hotel.

You turned to the man, letting yourself wobble just enough, brushing against him like you needed balance. His hand found your waist too easily.

“You okay?” he asked.

You gave him a soft laugh. “Yeah. Just… a little dizzy.”

“Don’t worry.” His grip tightened. “I’ve got you.”

And then, just like that, he started to lead you into the dark.

Any second now.

Then, moments later, his grip on you became stronger. More direct. Less friendly.

"What are you—"

Without another word, you were slammed up against the brick, his dirty hands all over you. Frantically searching for something. Pain echoed through your body as he continued ruffling your clothes, pulling at your hair.

You frowned, struggling.

"Please, don't—"

"Shut up, bitch! I know you're a cop." He snapped, jerking you slightly.

Your jaw dropped. You felt as though you had cold water thrown over you, dripping down your spine into your heels.

"But I'm not." You attempted meekly.

Cautious. Don't fight yet. Contemplate your choices.

He snickered snidely.

"Officer L/n. I know your father, sweetheart. Or knew him," He said, his clammy breath fanning into your face. "He got my friends put away for life. And then there you were, following right in his footsteps."

He dragged you away from the brick wall, grabbing you by your face. A knife glinted in his other hand.

The cold edge of the blade caught the faint glow of the alley light, flickering like a warning. Your breath caught in your throat. Your hands were still raised — not in surrender, but in precision. Timing.

"Where's the fuckin' wire? Tell me or I'm slitting your throat and dropping you right here."

You swallowed hard, keeping your voice steady despite the pounding in your chest. “I don’t have a wire on me.”

His eyes flashed with suspicion, narrowing dangerously. “Bullshit.”

"Please.." You muttered.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

"Where. Is. The. Wire?!" He snapped, pressing the knife into you.

You froze for a heartbeat as the knife pressed sharper against your skin, a searing line of cold fire that threatened to break through your calm. Your breath hitched but you forced it back down, steady and slow, every nerve screaming for you to act.

“Wait,” you whispered, eyes locking with his — steady, unflinching. “You want the wire? I'll give it to you. I'm begging you not to do this.”

His grip tightened, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, just a flash. Then, the knife pressed harder, enough to nick you, enough to cause a drop of blood to drizzle down. You hissed, tears collecting in your eyes.

Before the knife could press deeper, Reid sprang forward in a sudden burst of strength and precision — the kind of controlled force you usually wielded yourself.

He grabbed the man’s wrist, wrenching the knife away in one smooth motion. The blade clattered to the ground.

Without hesitation, Reid twisted the man’s arm behind his back and slammed him face-first against the brick wall with a sharp grunt.

The attacker struggled, but Reid’s grip was ironclad. He never did take-downs. He never felt like it was time. He valued a talk-down, a chance for the Unsub to see the light without an altercation. But something had snapped.

Reid’s breathing was heavier, eyes sharp and fierce — something you’d never seen in him before. The usual hesitation and quiet intellect gave way to raw, unyielding force. It was like watching a different side of him come alive, the side you’d been expecting all along but had never truly witnessed until now. The others had claimed to see it since he'd come home from prison, but it had never been revealed to you.

He hissed quietly, “Don’t move.”

You slumped against the wall, breathing heavily with a hand clutched to your neck. Blood flowed steadily, but not at a dangerous rate. Just enough to need a med team, but not enough to be scared. You stared up at the sky, frowning.

Morgan and Hotch came after, taking the Unsub from Reid, who was pressing him harder and harder against the wall every second as if he'd personally offended him with his existence.

Hotch immediately stepped in, his voice calm but authoritative. “Easy, Reid. Let him breathe.”

Morgan was already pulling out a medical kit, kneeling beside you quickly. “You good? That cut’s nasty, we can’t patch it up on-site.”

You gave a stiff nod, biting back the sting. “I’m fine. Just… keep him away.”

Reid’s jaw clenched, but he finally loosened his grip, stepping back reluctantly as the cuffs clicked shut around the Unsub’s wrists.

Your eyes met his, a quiet understanding passing between you both— raw tension still lingering, but also something deeper. You’d both taken a page from each other’s book tonight: your strength and resolve, his patience and calculated caution.

Morgan glanced at the three of you, breaking the moment with a grin. “Alright, bait and backup — that’s how we bring down monsters."

You rolled your eyes as you pressed the gauze to the side of your neck. "All in a day's work."

Morgan hummed.

"You need a hospital. I can drive—"

"I can do it." Reid interrupted quietly, looking at you more than he was Morgan.

You cleared your throat, nodding.

Reid’s eyes softened just a fraction as he reached out, carefully taking your hand to steady you. “Let’s get you patched up properly.”

Morgan gave you both a teasing smirk, but wisely kept his distance as Reid helped you into the SUV.

The ride was silent. The quick treatment in the hospital was silent, too. You allowed them to clean and stitch you up, flinching every few moments, before your eyes met Reid's again.

There was something different. There was no irritation or arrogance in his brown eyes like what he normally directed towards you. It was only softness. Just simply watching you, like it was a normal habit of his that he could do all day. Thick with tension. Words unsaid.

You couldn't lie. It made you blush. You looked away.

The conversation didn't ensue until the ride back to the hotel.

The engine hummed low as the SUV slipped down the dark road, headlights casting long, sweeping shadows across the pavement. Reid drove slower than usual: cautious, thoughtful. His fingers gripped the wheel with a quiet intensity, knuckles pale.

You sat beside him, your body angled slightly toward the window, but your eyes drifted, again and again, to his face. To the way his jaw tensed and relaxed like he was chewing on words. Like he couldn’t hold them in much longer.

He broke the silence.

"You did perfectly." He said quietly.

Your eyes flicked to him, surprised by the softness in his tone.

“Didn’t feel perfect,” you muttered, fingers brushing the gauze at your neck. “I let him get too close.”

“That was the point,” Reid said, glancing at you before returning his gaze to the road. “You had him completely. You waited. You didn’t react too soon. That’s what saved your life.”

You gave a small, dry laugh. “I thought I’d be the one snapping his wrist and pressing his face into the wall. Guess we traded roles.”

Reid’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, something more fragile. “You’ve always been better at brute force. I just never thought I’d actually need to use it.”

You leaned back in your seat, watching him. “So what changed?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just kept driving, eyes steady, lips parted slightly like the words were there, just hesitant to form.

Finally, he spoke, voice barely audible. “The second I saw him touch you, I didn’t think. I didn’t weigh the risk or the outcomes. I just… moved.”

Your throat tightened. “Why?”

He inhaled slowly. “Because if something had happened to you, if I had waited even a second longer, I wouldn’t have forgiven myself. It's hard enough to accept that you were hurt at all.”

You looked down at your lap, quiet for a beat. “I didn’t think you liked me that much.”

Reid frowned, squeezing the wheel.

"Name.. I don't dislike you." He said hoarsely. "I admire you, to be truthful. You're brave. Strong. Everything I want to be and have struggled to be my whole life," his voice was just above a whisper as he stole a glance your way.

"But I worry. All the time. I worry that something will go wrong and I'll lose another person. Another member of the team. And someone that I.." He trailed off.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest.

“Someone that you…?” you echoed gently, coaxing the rest out of him.

Reid’s jaw clenched. He exhaled shakily through his nose, like the truth physically hurt to say aloud.

“Someone that I like. Someone I care about,” he said at last, voice quiet but unwavering. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t want it to. You make me insane, half the time. You drive me completely up the wall.”

You smiled faintly, despite the tension thick in the car.

“But then I watch you work. Or I hear you laugh. Or you look at me like I’m not broken, like I’m not damaged goods. And I—I can’t unfeel it.”

Silence blanketed the car once more, but this time it was full of unsaid things that didn’t need words. It buzzed with the gravity of what had finally cracked open between you.

He pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, putting the car in park. His eyes slid over to yours again.

You reached out slowly, resting your fingers gently over his. He looked down at your hand, then up into your eyes, as if trying to make sure this was real.

You gave a soft, knowing smile. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Reid huffed a breath, almost a laugh, though his eyes were still glassy with everything he hadn’t said before tonight. “I thought you hated me.”

“I thought you were too good for me.”

His gaze flicked to your neck, then back to your eyes. “No one’s too good for you.”

"You are." You snorted. "I'm mean. Closed off. I don't listen."

Reid shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re protective,” he corrected gently. “You carry the weight for everyone else so they don’t have to. And you listen more than you think — not always to words, but to people. To their actions, their patterns. That’s why you’re good at this.”

You looked away, swallowing hard, your throat tight. “Still. You’re… kind. And soft. And patient. You make people feel safe just by being in the room. I make people flinch.”

Reid’s hand turned beneath yours, his fingers slipping between yours with quiet certainty. “I don't flinch.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, caught off guard by the quiet conviction in his voice. There was no teasing, no hesitation, no irritation in his tone — just truth. Solid and unwavering.

You stared at him for a beat, breath shallow. “No,” you whispered. “You don’t.”

Reid tilted his head slightly, his gaze dipping to your lips for just a second before returning to your eyes. “I see you. All of you. And I don’t flinch.”

The weight of his words settled in your chest like an anchor: grounding, calming, terrifying in the best way. No one had ever looked at you like this. Not with fear. Not with judgment. But with… something gentler. Something that threatened to undo every wall you’d ever built.

“You’re not scared of me,” you said quietly, like you were still trying to convince yourself.

“I’m scared for you, every time you throw yourself into harms' way,” he admitted, voice barely above a breath. “But never of you.”

There was a pause. Heavy. Electric.

And then, in the dark hush of the SUV, with the sounds of the city and the glow of the streetlights casting soft shadows across his face, you leaned in.

"Reid?"

"Call me Spencer."

You snorted softly, rolling your eyes.

"Spencer?"

His name lingered on your tongue, warm and unfamiliar in that intimate kind of way, like a secret finally spoken aloud.

He gave the faintest nod, eyes flicking down to your lips again, and this time he didn’t look away.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough around the edges, like he already knew what you were going to say but needed to hear it anyway.

Your breath caught, lips parting slightly. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

He blinked. “What?”

You tilted your head, your smile barely there. “The staring. The tension. The way you act like I’m a walking risk assessment.”

Spencer’s lips tugged up, sheepish but unrepentant. “I didn’t want to cross a line.”

“You didn’t.” Your voice softened, fingers still tangled with his. “You didn’t cross anything.”

He leaned in a little closer, enough for his breath to ghost across your cheek.

“Then can I?” he whispered.

Your heart thudded once, hard, before you nodded.

“Yes. Please.”

And then, he kissed you.

Slow. Intentional. Like he’d waited a lifetime for permission.

And you, well, for once, you didn’t think. You didn’t fight.

You just let yourself feel.

You knew your father would've liked him.

[theskywithin]

Birth Chart Breakdown- The Lunar Nodes in The Signs

The North Node is a whisper from the future, a gravitational pull toward the life you were meant to step into. It is not a place of comfort, but of growth. It calls you to release what is familiar, abandon the well-worn patterns of your past, and surrender to a version of yourself that has not yet fully emerged. The South Node, where you have been, is instinctive, ingrained, effortless. But to stay there is to remain unfinished.

The path ahead is not one of comfort, but of purpose. You are being called toward something greater. Will you answer?

North Node in Aries / South Node in Libra You have spent lifetimes tending to others, smoothing conflicts, making yourself smaller for the sake of peace. You have mastered the art of compromise, but at what cost? The North Node in Aries calls you to step forward alone, to lead without waiting for permission, to trust in your own fire. You must break the habit of molding yourself to fit others and dare to be fully seen, even when it makes others uncomfortable. Your journey is one of radical independence. Your voice matters. Use it.

North Node in Taurus / South Node in Scorpio You have danced with darkness, been baptized in crisis, and made a home in the fire of transformation. You know how to survive, but do you know how to simply exist? This lifetime calls you to peace, to build something steady rather than always bracing for collapse. The North Node in Taurus asks you to slow down, touch the earth, trust that love does not always come with suffering. Your healing is found in simplicity. Let life be gentle.

North Node in Gemini / South Node in Sagittarius You have been the wanderer, the philosopher, the one who sought meaning in distant lands and ancient texts. But wisdom is not only found in grand truths, it is found in the voices of those around you, in the rhythm of everyday conversations. This lifetime asks you to listen as much as you speak, to ask questions rather than assume answers, to find the sacred in the small things. You are not meant to teach from a mountaintop; you are meant to sit among the people and tell their stories.

North Node in Cancer / South Node in Capricorn You have built walls high enough to touch the sky, worn responsibility like armor, and measured your worth by what you can accomplish. But life is not a ledger to balance. The North Node in Cancer asks you to step away from the boardroom, the strategy, the control, and soften into feeling. You are here to experience love, vulnerability, and the strength that comes from allowing yourself to need others. Not everything must be earned, some things are simply meant to be felt.

North Node in Leo / South Node in Aquarius You have stood on the edge of the crowd, observing, analyzing, belonging to everyone and no one. You have fought for the collective, but what about you? The North Node in Leo calls you to step into the light, not as a reflection of a cause, but as your own radiant, creative force. This life is not about blending in, it is about daring to shine. Your heart is your compass. Follow where it leads.

North Node in Virgo / South Node in Pisces You have spent lifetimes floating in the waters of the unseen, surrendering to fate, dissolving into the currents of something greater. But now, you are meant to build, to shape, to make the intangible real. The North Node in Virgo calls you to bring structure to your dreams, to craft with precision, to serve in a way that is grounded and tangible. This is not about losing your magic, it is about turning it into something that lasts.

North Node in Libra / South Node in Aries You have always been the warrior, the lone wolf, the one who charged ahead with fire in your veins. But now, you must learn to stand beside another, not just as an individual, but as an equal. The North Node in Libra asks you to listen, to compromise, to see strength not as independence, but as connection. Your greatest victories will not be won alone.

North Node in Scorpio / South Node in Taurus You have known safety, comfort, and the slow, steady rhythm of a well-planned life. But security is not the same as growth. This lifetime calls you to dive into the depths, to surrender the illusion of control, to face what lies beneath the surface. The North Node in Scorpio asks you to let go, to embrace the mystery, to let yourself be transformed. You are meant to rise from your own ashes. Trust the fire.

North Node in Sagittarius / South Node in Gemini You have lived among the details, learned to navigate the chatter of the mind, but now you are called to something greater. The North Node in Sagittarius asks you to stop seeking answers in fragments and embrace the whole story. Let go of distractions, of hesitation, of overthinking. This is your time to leap, to explore, to believe in something bigger than yourself. The world is waiting. Go.

North Node in Capricorn / South Node in Cancer You have been held, nurtured, protected, but you cannot stay in the cradle forever. The North Node in Capricorn calls you to step into your own authority, to build something lasting, to claim your place in the world with discipline and determination. You are not here to be carried. You are here to lead.

North Node in Aquarius / South Node in Leo You have been the center of attention, the artist, the performer, the one who thrived on recognition. But this life asks you to turn your gaze outward, to use your gifts for something greater than personal glory. The North Node in Aquarius calls you to innovate, to revolutionize, to break free from ego and create for the collective. This is not about you alone, this is about all of us.

North Node in Pisces / South Node in Virgo You have spent lifetimes measuring, perfecting, fixing. But the North Node in Pisces asks you to let go of control, to surrender to the mystery, to trust in something beyond logic. This is your time to step into the divine flow, to dissolve into the vastness of possibility, to know that not everything needs to be planned, some things are meant to be felt. You are the dreamer, the poet, the mystic. Let yourself drift. Let yourself believe.

[rainydetectiveglitter]

Astro Notes

🌞 Sun in the 1H — The Sun finds its strength here (considered a "place of visibility"). You’re meant to be seen and recognized, and your life feels aligned when you’re expressing yourself boldly. Themes of leadership and self-realization dominate your journey—this is the chart of someone destined to carve their own path.

🌙 Moon in the 5H — The Moon rejoices in the 5th house, so this placement brings a natural affinity for creativity, pleasure, and children. Your emotional state thrives in spaces of joy and self-expression, but watch out for getting lost in indulgence or romantic idealism.

🗣 Mercury in the 12H — Mercury here suggests hidden or esoteric knowledge. This is the chart of someone with insights that go beyond the material world. Your speech and thoughts may feel isolated or introspective, but you’re gifted with a knack for unveiling truths hidden in plain sight. Potential for prophecy or dream work!

💖 Venus in the 2H — A placement tied to Aphrodite’s love for material beauty. Venus here blesses you with a natural allure and ability to attract wealth or possessions. Harmony in relationships may stem from shared values or building something tangible together.

🔥 Mars in the 8H — The eighth house signifies taboos, shared resources, and mortality, making this a fiery yet transformative placement. You face challenges head-on, especially in areas others shy away from. Battles over inheritance, intimate bonds, or spiritual power may define key parts of your story.

💫 Jupiter in the 10H — A classic "kingmaker" placement. Jupiter elevates your public life, granting you charisma and the ability to inspire. Benefic fortune arrives when you pursue roles of authority or influence aligned with your principles. Jupiter in the 10th can also signify divine protection over your reputation.

⏳ Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pallas in the 2H — A heavy emphasis on the 2nd house ties your material possessions to themes of duty (Saturn), disruption (Uranus), illusion (Neptune), and strategy (Pallas). You’re navigating the weight of what you own or value—learning to master a balance between control and letting go is crucial.

🕳 Pluto in the 12H — The 12th house governs things unseen—Pluto here is akin to Persephone's descent into the underworld. Deep, subconscious transformations may shape your life path. Spiritual growth occurs through surrender, forgiveness, and diving into your shadow self.

🌐 Chiron in the 9H — The 9th house deals with philosophy, travel, and belief systems. With Chiron here, you might struggle with your faith or find your worldview shaken by personal wounds. However, these experiences push you to share wisdom and inspire others on their own paths.

💍 Juno in the 8H — Relationships for you are not surface-level. Juno in the 8th craves deep, binding intimacy. Themes of merging and transformation play out in partnerships—this isn’t a placement for lighthearted romance. Think soul contracts over fleeting connections.

🔥 Vesta in the 1H — Vesta in the Ascendant makes you a keeper of the flame. There’s something sacred about your individuality and presence. You may dedicate much of your energy to self-discipline or perfecting your identity, often attracting those drawn to your purposeful aura.

🌀 Node in the 1H — Your destiny pulls you toward asserting independence and finding your voice. The past may tether you to partnerships or codependent tendencies, but growth lies in carving your own road.

🐍 Lilith in the 3H — The "dark goddess" in the house of communication shows a razor-sharp tongue and an unapologetically raw way of speaking. Themes of rebellion might arise in sibling relationships or education. Words become a tool of both power and seduction.

💰 Fortune in the 8H — True prosperity comes from transforming life’s challenges into opportunities. You might gain unexpected financial blessings or have a knack for finding luck in the darkest corners of life. This is an alchemist’s placement—your fortune thrives in rebirth.

[the-mortuary-witch]

TYPES OF DEVOTIONAL ACTS

FOR LOVE / BEAUTY DEITIES: 

Skin care.

Do your makeup (or embrace your natural beauty).

Paint your nails.

Dress up a little.

Write love letters.

Masterbate.

Change your bed sheets/clean up your room/space.

Listen to love songs/songs about sex/loving yourself.

Having sex.

Read romance novels.

Play interactive romance novels/romance games (stardew valley, dream daddy, The Arcana, etc).

FOR WAR DEITIES: 

Listen to angry music.

Advocate for yourself.

Reinforce your boundaries.

Cut out the negative people in your life.

Feel your anger, recognize your anger, don't force it down, but don't lash out to others. "I am angry. This thing made me angry. It's okay that I am angry, it is not okay to cause harm to those who do not deserve it." Etc etc.

Read biographies or accounts of war, or dystopian novels (accounts of war like Night by Elie Weisel, dystopian like Divergent or Hunger Games).

Learn self defence.

Learn about how your area was used in past wars.

Play fighting games (call of duty, mortal combat, etc).

FOR MUSIC / ART DEITIES: 

Create! Learn an instrument, draw, etc.

Write a song.

Paint for them.

Listen to experimental or storytelling music. All music is art, so find a vibe for your deity.

Take pictures of nature, art is everywhere in nature, from the paintings on butterfly wings to the sunset.

Read/write poetry.

Read poetry books, or books about music or art (think biographies from musicians/artists, or books like Guitar Notes by Mary Amato or such) (guitar notes is a mid-grade book but it's the only one I could think of the name of).

Visit galleries or local shows, support local artists.

FOR WISDOM DEITIES: 

Read books, any type, but mostly classics like Sherlock Holmes or Jane Austen.

Watch documentaries.

Take free online courses on subjects that interest you.

Visit and support your local libraries and independently owned bookstores.

Find old unloved books at thrift stores.

Learn a new skill.

Listen to music from different time periods.

Visit museums.

Play strategy games (chess, supreme commander, etc).

Do puzzles.

FOR NATURE DEITIES: 

Raise a plant or a garden.

Listen to nature sounds, or music with nature sounds.

Observe nature persevering, vines crawling up a building, dandelions in cracks in the pavement.

Read wilderness guides.

Learn about your area's native flora and fauna.

Visit local parks.

Open windows and let the fresh air in.

Scavenge/forage (in safe areas).

Play cozy games (animal crossing in a good example).

FOR DEATH DEITIES: 

Visit local graveyards/cemeteries (don't forget to be mindful and conscious of others and the spirits there).

Listen to music by artists who have passed on, or music about death.

Learn about different cultures' funeral practices.

Safely move roadkill out of the road, leave a small offering if possible (again, do so SAFELY).

Read books that have death themes (like Edgar Allen Poe, Wuthering Heights, or They Both Die In The End).

Think about how you want your body to be treated in death. Do you want to be buried, cremated, donated to science?

FOR HOME / HEARTH DEITIES: 

Read cozy books.

Play cozy games (sims, animal crossing, etc).

Make your house seem warm and inviting to visitors.

Learn how to bake, either from scratch or a box, both are acceptable.

Learn how to sew or knit or crochet.

Watch cozy movies.

Light candles if you don't have a fireplace.

Listen to soft music.

Visit your friends or family and bring them baked goods.

FOR STRONG PARENTAL DEITIES:

Take care of your friends. 

Make sure your friends eat and are drinking water, do the same for yourself. 

Tell the people in your life you love them, you're proud of them, they're doing a good job. 

Read books about found family, self help books. 

Listen to music that makes you feel safe and loved. 

Carry a figure that represents them. 

Take care of yourself the way that they would take care of you.

Cook for yourself. Make yourself feel safe and loved.

FOR HEALTH DEITIES: 

Carry bandaids, Tylenol, and extra pads/tampons for people who may need them.

Learn about the human body and how it works.

Take your meds.

Make art out of old pill bottles for them.

Know and respect your limits.

Watch documentaries about doctors or health sciences.

Research holistic remedies and see if any might be of use to you (DO NOT SUBSTITUTE THEM FOR MODERN MEDICINE) be careful of misinformation, and any interactions that certain things might have with your meds.

FOR SEA / OCEAN/WATER DEITIES: 

Have a small fountain in your home (you can find them at some dollar stores, or if you're mechanically savvy, make your own).

Salts in your baths.

Visit local streams, creeks, rivers, or beaches.

Read about marine life/river life.

Read about your local water sources, learn about the water cycle.

Collect rain water.

Stand in the rain, feel it on you, let it ground you.

Listen to music about water/with water sounds/the ocean/the beach

Have pictures in your home/space of the ocean.

If you visit the ocean, collect some water and sand and seashells (make sure you follow your own personal gratitude system) to have in your home.

Don't fret if you're landlocked, your practice is valid, you don't need to be at the ocean all the time to feel it's presence. The rain clouds blow in from hundreds of miles away. The ocean is always with you.

Drink water.

Carry a small vial of water with you (could be ocean water, river water, or tap water with or without salt in it) you can keep it in your car, in your pocket, or wear it as a necklace, etc.

Carry a small vial of salt with you (could be hand harvested from the ocean, table salt, or any kind of off the shelf salt).

FOR SKY / WIND / AIR DEITIES: 

Let the air in, open windows when possible

Offerings of air, such as burning incense, smoking tobacco, or using essential oils.

Reading poetry, mythology, or other writings about the deity.

Let yourself be free.

Sit outside for a few minutes a day, or longer.

Playing wind instruments, like flutes or panpipes.

Making offerings of feathers, wings, or other things related to birds or mythical sky beings.

Participating in sky-related activities, such as skydiving, flying, or hot-air balloon rides, to feel closer to the sky deity.

Building or using a wind chime or wind sculpture to connect with the energies of the sky and the wind.

Engaging in outdoor activities like biking, sailing, or kite flying to appreciate the gift of air and sky.

Flying kites or sky lanterns. 

FOR TRAVELER DEITIES: 

Pick something up for them on your travels, could be a rock, could be a souvenir.

Put a symbol of them in your car.

Wear shoes that are good for walking.

Drive/walk around to explore new places (you don't even have to leave your town).

Take backroads.

Be a respectful tourist in every new place that you visit, don't be afraid of looking stupid.

FOR QUEER DEITIES:

Educate yourself on queer history.

Express yourself truthfully.

Listen to queer music.

Read queer books.

Embrace your identity.

Read queer poetry, like that of Sappho.

Keep yourself safe in spaces that are less open to identities.

Support local queer owned businesses or artists.

Queer art.

Love yourself and take care of yourself.

Go to drag shows.

Relish in the fact that queerness has been around since the very first civilizations.

[heavyisthecrownif]

Intro

The Emperor is ill; the people of the capital whisper with varying degrees of concern or delight; he has completely fallen into the clutches of madness, as the most insidious tongues allege, the truth is, to their ignorance, considerably more urgent.

The Emperor, Airlar the Unifier, responsible for the greatest modifications to the constitution and State in the entire history of Ehyla, a living testimony to the existence of a civilization buried by the sands of time as well as oblivion, is irremediably, undeniably dying.

And so your life undergoes an absolute change overnight by nothing less than imperial decree. As the only one of your siblings of the right age, you are not only heading to a nest of conspiring vipers that you should never have dealt with, but every second, implicitly and explicitly, you are being judged and evaluated for a purpose that escapes your knowledge. Truth be told, at least it's not all bad; you have your very competent and loyal assistant at your side, and with your sister relatively close by, your experience shouldn't be so terrible...

Unless...

CW: This is a dark romance, and what this entails—things like possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, jealousy, and dependency will be seen in varying degrees in all routes. Sexism, transphobia, and homophobia will be briefly mentioned, as well as religious trauma, abuse of power, graphic violence, and optional explicit sexual scenes.

This list is subject to change as the game progresses.

HITC is only for an audience of +18.

Demo: Prologue: 11k last updated on 2/21/25

Since HITC is a wip all blog content is subject to possible changes in the future.

•Customize your Crown; personality, appearance, gender, pronouns, independent of the chosen gender, magic type, and where the foreign half of your bloodline comes from.

•Build friendships, romances and/or enmities with 5 diverse characters, all of selectable gender (with ace options).

•Find out why you are in demand in the capital and why you should study at the "Saint Elizsea Academy for Illustrious Young People" side by side with the cream of the crop of Ehylian society.

•Have a familiar! With options, so far, to choose from a wolf, a ferret, a raven, a snake, a crocodile, a deer and several types of dogs and cats.

Choose wisely! They all possess consciousness and at least a degree of magical attributes and some are...sassy.

•Shape the narrative with your decisions, every choice matters.

•The Crown: You! As the fourth child of a marriage between a former general promoted to king for his illustrious strategies against the rebellion against the fae and a foreign scholar, your outlook is, to say the least, peculiar. Not only are you the product of a marriage of love, with the confidence of genuinely and willingly counting on the support of your brothers and older sister again, but also, well known for their almost barbaric customs, your parents have the audacity to allow you to decide what to do with your own life, from coveting and collecting knowledge to learning the art of war or venturing into any of the five arts, you have a place nothing less than privileged, so far from being the firstborn and with an older brother more than capable and willing to take charge of the kingdom, your future is, to say the least, very promising, until an edict of the dying, and extremely capricious emperor demands that every young people of marriageable age who is not taking charge of the administration of their jurisdiction at the time, must go to be evaluated at The Academy in the heart of the capital, with your first brother discarded, your older sister engaged, your second brother in the borderlands doing pilgrim work and your younger siblings too young to attend that leaves you alone as an option.

•The one who left (RO): Asterion/Astrya Dellamort. With silky midnight waves and expressive eyes that evoke the memory of the moon in their hue and roundness, they possesses an astonishingly delicate and pretty face, for someone who has been classified with little variation as a rigid, cold, arrogant, difficult and even bitchy person throughout their young life, Azzy, the nickname with which you baptized their and, unbeknownst to you no soul is allowed to use without going through severe verbal reprimands and/or public humiliation, was, at least until the age of 13, your best friend, with their mother being a strong ally, and more importantly, a supporter of your parents, it is no wonder that you two were brought together to be playmates since before you could remember.

Truth be told, Azzy was never easy, despite knowing you all their life there is something about you that bothers they deeply, they can trust your reasons, your transparency, but they can't understand your affection, because as the only child of the Queen, Azzy they was much more exposed and at a much younger age to the cruel machinations of politics, so, with an almost supernatural ease they developed a capacity with words as bewitching as it is deadly, cruel if you will even, not that you have witnessed it first hand, of course, for many complaints, frowns and playful reluctance, you probably have the rare honor of knowing and living with the kindest version of Azzy, which in turn gives you the merit of being the person who knows they the most and the least, being a witness to they gentleness but mostly ignorant of their cruelty.

It's not until a tragic occasion, when your relationship breaks down, abruptly, suddenly, with the roughness of a wound that hasn't healed properly even five years later, that you wonder why Azzy decided to cut off all contact with you, but, unbeknownst to you, they despises and belittles anyone who tries to gain their favor by putting you down.

Tropes: Friends (with the possibility of a friendly rivalry...or not) to "rivals" to lovers/ Attachment issues, let's say Azzy is fine keeping their distance, (they're not) but if you come back into their life there's no turning back/ The ice king/queen's weak point/ Misunderstandings/ Forced proximity.

The one who takes care of you (RO): Kaihlan/Karonthe Agrapolli. Strictly speaking, Kai is your bodyguard, but over the years they has taken on far more than their fair share of responsibilities, and no matter how much you and your parents have asked them not to overexert themselves, the satisfied gleam in their amber eyes whenever they do something to make your life easier, along with their unbeatable stubbornness, means that you can count on Kai as your shadow more often than not.

As the eldest of your father's right-hand twins, Kai has been two things to you: a constant and a teacher. With their undeniable combat skills and their minds as quick as their feet, it is not only an honor to have them defend you, but also teach you.

Kai is loyal to you to the core; in order to ensure your happiness and safety, they is capable of acts that go against morality and even the laws of man and god.

Kai is probably the tallest person you've ever met, so tall that when you were younger and cheeky you asked them if they weren't part giant, they laughed but otherwise didn't answer the question. With sun-kissed skin glowing a shade reminiscent of honey almost as much as their eyes Kai is not only tall, they're broad and rough, with large scarred hands that extend all the way to they forearms you'd expect they to behave like a bull in a china shop, and they do in a way, but when you're around them, they seem incapable of anything but the most dedicated and delicate care. Both M!Kai and F!Kai have hair brushing their shoulders in a fluffy reddish-brown mess, with the back of their necks longer than the front and scattered freckles from spending so much time in the sun.

Tropes: Puppy love/They look like they could kill you and potentially will if you're not MC, but they're actually a cinnamon roll, long-term crush, himbo/bimbo, surface only, gentle giant, wolf in sheep's clothing.

The one who admires you (RO):???. You're not sure how, but you've somehow managed to get a hold of a stalker.

What you know so far is little and downright mediocre, they either have enough power or influence to bribe someone into getting their letters to you within the castle grounds, or more unlikely, they're stealthy enough to slip past Kai's ever-watchful eye, so all things considered, there's most likely magic involved, which brings you back to the first point, or they're rich enough to hire or own a wizard themselves or they're powerful enough to conjure their presence into your chambers without raising suspicion.

Tropes: Loved you from the moment they saw you/secret admirer/strangers to ???/would burn the world down for you.

The one who does not show up(RO): Secret route! You'll know when you meet them...maybe.

Tropes: Love-hate/they despise loving you/they want to live in your heart... literally/the love that was never meant to be/they are doomed. to love you? to exist without you? not even they know.

The one you impressed (RO): Elysse/Eylarion Kurayoi.

If there is one word to define Ely it is scandal, with their elastic golden curls bouncing with the sound of their thunderous laughter, they would not readily admit how much they love to impress, but the mischievous sparkle in their mahogany eyes says otherwise.

You know little to nothing about them other than the rumors that proclaim that they have no standards regarding who they share a bed with, but for some reason you intrigue them, if you were to ask them they would say little more than that they are curious that you are so different and little else.

They happens to be your roommate at the academy and as someone who for better or worse seems to be extremely transparent and understands how everyone who has an important name in the capital acts, it might be convenient to have them around, but be careful not to leave them too close to the warmth of your home because they might not want to leave.

Tropes: Master/Mistress of seduction until they flirt with someone they really like/ Bad reputation or justified prejudices?/ the capital's rebellious child/ The most beautiful at the ball/ The beauty and the beast

Feel free to ask me anything! And thanks for reading!

[justposting1]

20 Simple Daily Habits That Can Double Your Income

Small, Consistent Habits to Revolutionize Your Financial Future 20 Simple Habits to Boost Your Income Today! Have you ever wondered how some people manage to achieve extraordinary financial success while others seem to plateau? The secret often lies in the small, consistent habits that steer the course of your life. These 20 simple daily habits helped me transform my income from $70k to seven…

[bluemoonscape]

I’m overanalyzing Melissa as a character, but listen, the toxic yuri is calling.

Obviously Melissa and Shauna as a ship is pretty surprising, seeing as Mel hasn’t had very much screen time at all—even Shauna was shocked and appalled to find out she has a personality—but I do like it. A lot. It provides a catalyst for Shauna finally confronting her sexuality in a direct manner on screen and is presumably going to have some lasting effects on the adult timeline too. It’s a Jackieshauna win, at that, because this all but confirms Shauna had feelings for Jackie, and I’m relatively (cautiously) confident that it will be delved into more throughout the season to make it clear? Either way the implication is there.

Melissa herself has a chance to be so interesting in this season now. In S2, we learned very little about her as an individual at all. She was with Gen a lot, we know that. She was one of Lottie’s followers like many of the girls. Now in S3, she’s incredibly drawn to Shauna. Shauna is a powerful figure among the girls—while Nat is their group leader and Lottie is their spiritual leader, Shauna is the girl that you do not fuck with.

Her being surprised by Melissa expressing her opinions and joking around is a funny sort of fourth-wall breaker, but if you’re really delusional like me then there can be more layers to that! Melissa is one of the lesser known girls. She’s quiet and has pretty shy/anxious tendencies these first 2 eps of S3. Of course, most of what we see of her is her with Shauna, so that’s probably amplified by Shauna’s presence in those scenes—but bottom line, Melissa isn’t a powerful figure in the group. She doesn’t have an important role. She’s not one of the big dogs.

But Shauna is.

And notably, Melissa acts on her feelings for her the moment Shauna holds a knife to her throat:

She’s not just drawn to that power, but she actually physically lusts after it. Mari seems somewhat similar based on how she’s seemed to rise in the ranks and butt heads with Shauna between S2 and S3, except Melissa doesn’t push against Shauna to gain that power, but pulls her in with the allure of acceptance.

And Shauna, wow. A major facet of her character and character arc as a whole is her strong tendency towards envy. She had it for Jackie and now she has it for Nat in Jackie’s absence. She always feels inferior to someone and has to exert herself over them in some way to make herself feel better. Equal. Important. Her strategy has thus far been alienation, what with her telling Jackie she might as well leave the cabin, and now trying to oust Nat as the leader and turn the other girls against her.

But now here’s Melissa who subconsciously desires the force of Shauna’s will, is seduced by all the things that make others see her as frightening. Shauna suddenly has control over someone like (or so she perceives) Jackie had control over her. And, like Sophie Nelisse said in this interview, she has complicated feelings for Melissa because she yearns for the acceptance, but also has motive to manipulate Melissa and use her to help her turn the girls against Nat:

So Melissa makes Shauna stronger against Nat and as an individual within the group by backing her as she is in all of these photos, and Shauna makes Melissa feel more empowered, i.e. her telling Melissa “don’t” when Mari tells her to bring her a drink. Telling her “you don’t have to do that, don’t listen to her.” Except Melissa needs somebody to listen to at all times, so it’s not that she’s becoming independent, it’s that she’s turning away from serving others and choosing to serve Shauna instead.

And there’s the fact that Shauna is very likely going to project Jackie onto Melissa whether she realizes it or not BUT that remains to be seen I won’t talk don’t let me talk

Point is, I really like the unhealthy power dynamics that have already been established in Shauna x Melissa (shaulissa? shaunalissa? or just. shaunahat) and I think it’ll be a hell of a toxic yuri ride. Melissa, get behind me, I’ll protect you from the haters

[legendofmorons]

Warriors and Wild who are painful reminders of the past for eachother BUT they still care. Give me brothers that would do ANYTHING for eachother BUT have a ton of almost matching baggage neither enjoys examining.

Warriors who does make Wild think of the army. Wars makes Wild think of the worst nights of his life without meaning to. Wars moves and talks like the knights Wild knows, but the knights Wild knows are HORRIBLE.

Wild Recognizes that Wars is NOT those knights. He Recognizes that Wars isn't trying to dredge up the past. He Recognizes that while he hates how effective Warrior's Captin's Voice is that Wars rarely uses it on purpose and that sometimes its good that there's that voice.

Warriors who looks at Wild and sees so many lost soilders who were still hopeful. He sees Wild and he Recognizes that the champion IS smart, and strategizes even if Wars can't always choose the same strategies. Wars looks at Wild and sees all the traits the army crushes out and is maybe even Jealous of how much easier it is for Wild to let himself have emotions. (Wether Wild actually has it easier around feeling or not is up to interpretation but Wars IS on the outside looks in...)

Wars KNOWS he can depend on Wild to step up if things go south and the plan goes out the window. He knows Wild is kind, adaptable, and capable even if he doesn't agree with all the decisions. Wars Knows Wild isn't trying to dredge up the past.

Give me Warriors and Wild who (while accurate or not) see eachother as mirrors of the past... but maybe hope for the future.

Warriors is not just a good knight and hero. He's a good and loyal man. He's got lots of integrity, and he's a good leader. Wild appreciates that most of the time, warriors can be trusted to help pull everyone through. Wild admires the easy (EXTERNAL) confidence and the ability to plan in such detail.

Wild is not just a bit of a free spirit who adores adventure, he's a kind and hardworking man. He's canonicaly good with kids (see both LU comic when he's around Wind AND Totk where we learn Wild was a teacher), he's friendly, and he's incredibly fast on his feet (physical and mental!). Wars admires his wilderness survival skills and his ability to put people at ease. The captain appreciates the work Wild does.

Give me Wars and Wild who admire eachother. Yes, they cause unpleasant memories sometimes, and yes they both Certainly annoy eachother because some of their personality traits clash a bit, but they Care about eachother.

Wild and Wars may not agree on strategy but they're able to see the value in the other ideas. They may not be best friends, they may argue over tidyness sometimes and they may even argue about authority and how far that extends bur that dosen’t mean they don't care.

For every bad memory, there's a gesture to help.

For every clash and argument there's still the trust that they want the best for eachother and the group.

Even with the distance that may very well exist between them, they are still brothers, and they are still able to step in for each other.

Wars almost never under estimates Wild. (Critical observation.)

Wild rarely puts everything on Wars. (Independence.)

Also if Wars found out about the way Wild usually (fanon?) ended up selectively Mute and in the army PRE CALMITY, the captain would have a FIT.

Give me Wild and Warriors who stay up together on the worst nights and maybe they don't have some great big philosophical conversation but they are there for eachother and a reminder that the army DIDN'T take and break everything.

I'm not sure this is coherent... my head hurts so much I can feel it in my hair...