#but a big rule of writing is to know whose advice to take and which parts to take in said advice

[cyndaquillt]

please give the rant bestie 🤲

Sorry it took me a while to get to this cause I was turning the rant into a mildly coherent essay. (This is very long, I'm sorry :/)

TL;DR : India is a modern nation state that will face the challenge of falling apart if each indigenous group is indeed given sovereignity over their land, culture, and language so its easier to instead perpetrate the myth of an ethnically united Indian people with common language(s), religion, culture, etc to if the priority is to maintain a united, big country regardless of your political stance.

OK SO!

To preface this discussion, I want to point out that settler colonialism in South Asia predates the global modern perception of colonialism which comes largely from a European colonial lens. The subcontinent itself being a victim of modern European colonialism means a South Asian's default understanding of colonialism through lived experiences comes largely from a situation where we are the victims of colonization, not the perpetrators. This means there are deep rooted nuances and systemic privileges that the average Indian gets, that are easy to miss entirely if one is not actively looking for dogwhistles or watching out for propaganda, especially because the way Indians get introduced to colonialism is through the independence movement where there is a clear foreign entity that hasn't clearly assimilated into South Asian societies and whose parent country still exists. Then things get more complicated when the interplay between conquest and colonization comes in because the timeline of South Asian settler colonialism has heavy overlap with conquests where, for better or worse, stable monarchies were established with kingdoms where rulers that generally assimilated with the populace and were even well received by the people they were ruling over. Also note that I am going to be writing this from an Indian lens. There may be bias when I make general sweeping statements applicable to all of South Asia, because I am Indian and know Indian society best (at least macroscopically).

South Asian settler colonialism goes wayy wayy back, to the establishment of a Brahmanical Aryan society and benefits to being an upper caste Aryans over everyone else is very evident even in Ancient India. Let's take the Arthashastra as an example. In his 1987 translation of Kautilya's Arthashastra, political economist L. N. Rangarajan notes that not only being an Aryan had benefits in a Kautilyan society, but falsely posing as an Aryan to avail those benefits had grave consequences. You can find this translation in its entirety here. In the introductory section titled 'Kautilyan State and Society', the translator compiles points on not only the treatment of Non-Aryans, but details the consequences for interactions between Aryans and Non-aryans and even the difference in treatment each demographic gets. Eg: An Aryan man in a relationship with a Svapaka (dog-breeder, non-aryan) woman was branded and exiled, whereas a Svapaka man in a relationship with an Aryan woman was to be executed. Banished, an aryan man still lives. But if you cross the same line as a non-aryan man, you die.

The translation also has details on how to settle a 'virgin land' in Part IV of the text. While the general advice is to leave native 'jungle tribes' alone, the reason for this isn't granting territorial sovereignty, but to avoid being attacked by them. Granting indigenous groups territorial sovereignty is also bad for monarchic control so instead, non-aryans are given tasks and a place in the society as guards, labourers, slaves, etc (note that Arthashastra is very clear that aryans cannot be enslaved and slave labour must come from outside of Aryan social structure/outside of the Varna system).

The reason I bring up the Arthashastra here is due to a couple reasons. Arthashastra, to my knowledge, is one of the earliest known complete socio-economic treaty, dated either 4th Century BCE or 2nd Century BCE (contingent on if Kautilya is indeed Chanakya). It is exceptionally thorough and while it is uncertain whether what's detailed in the Arthashastra was reality or simply an ideal kingdom according to Kautilya, it does address and often disagrees with its contemporary or preceding socio-economic schools of thoughts, providing a multidimensional and ideologically diverse image of politics of the times, something revisionist history born out of nationalism wants to ignore. The other major reason I chose to bring up Arthashastra here is also to point out the revision of the perception and image of Kautilya to fit post-colonial, nationalist idea of the earliest historical entity to kickstart the subcontinent's unification, as opposed what it actually must have been, which is simply establishing a nation state through tactful conquest and settlement of lands. (Mauryan settler politics is also a separate rant btw, hmu if you want that too but that would be a digression here).

Settler colonialism of people present in the land before Aryan migration into the subcontinent of course, predates Arthashatra and Mauryan rule. But we are going to move forward in time instead and talk a bit about the medieval times. By the time European colonialism reached South Asia, our lands were hosting a myriad of communities, ethnicities, religious beliefs, etc. Foreign perception of 'the land beyond the Indus', the Greek 'India' or the Arabic 'Hind' and its people the uniform 'Hindu' is convenient for a west centric perspective trying to build a colony or a nation state out of South Asia. But the reality was not that homogenous and ethnic divides were rife in the subcontinent. Eg : Shivaji's rivalry against Aurangzeb was not a religious issue, it was born out of the sovereign claim of Marathas and Shivaji over Bijapur (source). While religious divide is most certainly present in the medieval India around the same time (eg: Guru Gobind Singh's establishment of the Khalsa and resistance against Aurangzeb), I believe ethnic divide was equally important.

The reason I bring up the dichotomy of religious and ethnic divides is because I believe division in terms of religion benefitted British control of India a lot more than ethnic division did. To that end, the British fanned the flames of the religious divide to break up ethnic solidarity. A good portion of South Asian kingdom split was by ethnicities (Marathas once again a good example of it). If ethnicities unite, they can come together to claim an independent nation state. But religious unity with multiple ethnicities doesn't work as a good model for a rebellion because ethnic divide is so dominant and not to mention, even a single South Asian religion was never that united to begin with, especially the blanket religion of Hinduism with its caste heirarchy, untouchability, non-aryan tribal politics, etc, etc. A religious divide would aide British control. A united Bengali front could ask back for an independent nation state of Bengal but a divided Bengal based on religion is a good way to cultivate infighting so that we may never unite against the oppressor.

200 years of fanning the religious divide flame required as strong of a uniting front if the British were to be thrown out and the freedom movement, especially the one born out of Gandhian efforts provided just that. Caste, ethnic, and religious unity were always a front for Gandhian politics and they served their purpose well against a common eenemy. But what after the common enemy is gone? Modern South Asian society then ended up with the same old ethnic and religious tensions, though at this point in time, religious divide is far stronger than it has ever been. Though no division of a multireligious ethnicity could be clean, and considering that ethnic unity has been a glue far stronger than religious unity before now, the Indo-Pak partition that broke that glue of ethnic unity and was so bloody that our scars from then bleed to this day.

However, in my experience, the modern Indian who has never seen a time where ethnic unity overpowered religious unity or isn't part of an indigenous community whose land has been taken by the modern nation state, finds religious claim to the land ideologically easier to comprehend than indigenous claim to the land. The Kashmir issue is a great example of this. Azad Kashmir has its own self governing body with its own PM and President, albeit being under the administration of Pakistan. I am not Kashmiri, do not live in Azad Kashmir, and have no direct experience of the Kashmir conflict but from what I know, on paper Azad Kashmir is a sovereign piece of land inhabited by various ethnic groups from Punjab, Jammu, Kashmir valley and the Pothohar plateau. However, as an Indian, this region was introduced to me as Pakistan occupied Kashmir and the map of India I was taught includes this as a 'rightful' part of India. A third option of an independent Kashmir is never introduced to us by formal channels. The only two options we get are either Indian or Pakistani control and if you are Indian, there is a supposed right answer that is very wrong on multiple levels. J&K's handover to India was messy because the land was sold to Gulab Singh by the British when the British had no indigenous claim to the land. Kashmir issue is an issue of indigenous sovereignty spun around as an issue of religious divide. The Kashmir Valley didn't get independence with India because its authority went from European colonizers to a vassal princely state to a newly formed nation state, making the said newly formed nation state of India its new settler colonizer. Just like Tibet did not get independence when Nehru ceded it to China when he had no right to. Kashmir didn't become a part of India like Goa did either, where the Indian army fought a second war of independence against the Portuguese, though it is unclear to me if this was/is a move the native populace was okay with (did we make Goa India's Hawaii? Something I need to read up more on). At the very least, in case of Goa, it seems the colonial rule was overthrown in line with the native Goan Liberation Movement's sentiments (source but it is a govt website), though the Indian army fully intended to annex Goa regardless of local resistance. But the Kashmir Valley was ceded to India by someone who had no right to do so. This would have been wrong regardless of the majority religion in the Kashmir Valley, but because religious extremism and violence did happen in the valley and the post-independence territorial India/Pakistan issue was indeed a religious one, the Kashmir issue is best understood by the average Indian as an issue of religious divide and not an issue of indigenous sovereignty when it very much is so. This also means any nationwide Kashmiri liberation movement does not get any traction and the small pockets it exists in can be relabeled as militancy or terrorism.

Modern nation state of India discredits any indigenous movement by flipping it into an issue of religious divide, when it can. It's even more evident post-2014 when religious polarization has been consistently used as a tool to deflect from various policies and national issues that the government should be held accountable for. Changing Gurgaon to Gurugram along with a wave of name changes like Allahabad -> Prayagraj or Mughalsarai -> Pandit Deen Dayal Upadhyay Nagar as a statement of 'reclamation' and decolonization like Bombay -> Mumbai or Calcutta -> Kolkata were, is an example of this. If we are to even admit that all Islamic rule in South Asia was foreign colonialism and ignore the fact that Pandit Deen Dayal Upadhyay had no claim to the land of Mughalsarai before it was named Mughalsarai, the switch from Gurgaon to Gurugram in 2016 was blatantly discrediting indigenous languages spoken in the region in an attempt to make its Sanskritic and Vedic associations more accessible to those not native to the region.

Adding Sanskrit as the second the state language of Uttarakhand after Hindi in 2010 by its then CM is another such move. Note that this is pre-2014 but the CM of the time who made the addition, Ramesh Pokhriyal, is a member of the BJP. Also note that there are no Sanskrit speakers in the region. Though, Kumaoni and Garhwali, the most spoken regional languages as per the 2011 census are not currently one of the 22 languages recognized in the constitution and there is an ongoing motion for both to be included in the constitution as one of the 38 additional languages. A genuine push to preserve indigeneity of the ethnic groups in Uttarakhand in 2010 shouldn't have been making Sanskrit its official language but for inclusion of Kumaoni and Garhwali in the constitution and giving them the status of official languages of the state that they so rightfully deserve.

Undermining local languages and bestowing superiority to a blanket language isn't a rare tactic when it comes to colonialism of any kind. Both Hindi and Urdu serve this purpose in modern South Asia and Sanskrit serves the same purpose in revisionist history in hopes of peddling the front of a united nation state with credible historicity. The myth of 'we are one people and always have been' is propagated so that it can be used to bind a nation state that was fundamentally never together. While the imposition of language as a way of control is more evident in the South, especially with anti-Hindi sentiments coalescing into full fledged movements, even the idea of 'The Hindi Belt' and a uniform North India are a result of this. The Gangetic plains where the Hindi Belt is supposed to be, isn't linguistically uniform. But barely any language from the region is recognized in the constitution. Take Bihar for instance. A state with some of the most underprivileged population in the country often victim of nationwide elitism and classism, it is very conveniently drafted into the Hindi belt and any recognition of linguistic diversity it gets is derogatory, be it mocking Bihari Hindi or mocking Bhojpuri. However, despite Bihar's national image of a supposedly Bhojpuri speaking state, Bhojpuri isn't one of the languages recognized in the constitution. What's even more interesting is that the Bhojpur region is split between Bihar and UP and is by no means the only language native to the state. There are multiple linguistic spheres in the state and there is active dispute and infighting on what's a language and what's a dialect. Take this map for instance (English added by me) -

If you can read Hindi, notice that Chhapariya and Bhojpuri are labeled as dialects of Hindi. But are they though? Hindi/Urdu or Hindustani/Urdu were born out of a need for a lingua franca in the Delhi region and include vocabulary from northern languages that broke out of Shauraseni Prakrit (like Awadhi, Brij Bhasha, Khariboli) as well as Persian, Arabic, and Chagatai. Meanwhile, languages of Bihar broke out of Magadhi Prakrit, an entirely different dialect than Shauraseni Prakrit with its own quirks and features. Bhojpuri's split from Magadhi Prakrit likely started happening in the 7th Century CE, independent and in parallel to formation of Hindustani as a language (7th to 13th century CE). How can a language be a dialect of another language if their histories, linguistic progression, and demographics are all different? Well, if you never acknowledge that it was dialects of Prakrit that Indic languages come from and not Sanskrit, then you may be more successful in enforcing cultural homogeneity instead of retention of indigenous diversity. One could argue that this map may be an isolated case of the issue but the fact that linguistic diversity of culturally northern states is erased when speaking about establishment of an ideal national identity modelled after the strawman people of the Ganges-Yamuna region (The 'Hindi Belt') is a mark of settler erasure to ensure a united front for the nation state of India.

Homogeneity is easy to control/unite. A religious ethnostate is one way to get that homogeneity but sovereign governance for indigenous groups isn't something the center or the left is keen on either, and it won't ever be on the national agenda because it shakes the very foundation of a united Indian nation state. Indian nationalist propaganda relabels and creates a strawman/ideal 'Indian' identity (uniformity in religion, language, looks, etc). Language in particular is an interesting case of this and even the so called 'Hindi belt' is not homogenous and the languages in the said Hindi belt are barely even recognized in the constitution. No recognition of official languages means there will be no official records or means of propagating the language beyond informal familial and community structure which eventually erodes linguistic diversity, a phenomena that has already started happening in cities in particularly upper and upper middle class urban families, who are leading this change by either only teaching their children English in the name of 'progression' or only Hindi for assimilation. The elite, classist left will not suddenly abandon English and the right wing will take up Sanskrit or Hindi as opposed to their ethnicities' native languages. Mockery, microaggression, exoticism of different ethnicities and indigenous groups is also going to stay and any movement for claims of landback will be subject to allegations of dwindling patriotism at best and militancy at worst. Even if a Hindu nationalist sentiment is eradicated, settler colonialism will continue in India for the foreseeable future.

I hope this was somewhat coherent and apologies again for it being so long....

[kourota]

i am trying to plan my fic using your writing advice you posted recently and ive realised i dont even know what counts as character development; or what exactly it's supposed to be

hi, anon! thanks for asking, i'd be more than happy to clarify these things and explain things to the best of my ability (but if anyone else wants to add on, please do so!)

character development

when you hear people talking about a story or a show, sometimes they mention things like "oh, XYZ character had great character development" or "XYZ's character arc was disappointing" etc etc. now, what exactly IS this character development?

in literary terms, character development is how the audience can see the changes in a character over the course of a story.

that's literally it. you take the personality traits of the character in the beginning, and you compare it to the personality traits at the end. some characters go through significant changes due to story arcs and events that influence them. others remain true to who they were in the start, and maybe on have a couple of subtle changes.

okay so think of it as the character in the beginning being a "box", and each event that influences the character is an item to add to the box (something they carry forward into the story, which affects their "self"). now, the box can have items in it, or nothing at all. so,,, a box that is full or has items in it means that it's more "developed" even before the story has started, but an empty box means that the character hasn't really been developed, but they have the "potential for development".

sometimes a story revolves around a full box. other times, the story starts off with an empty box, and by the end of it, we see items in the box. sometimes a story starts off with an empty box and ends with an empty box too, because there's no rules to storytelling. but all these items in boxes represent the changes, which is called character development.

this change could be caused by anything: the character finds a purpose to life, or maybe the character is faced with a situation that challenges their beliefs, or a character meets someone who influences their perspective,,,, you get the gist?

basically everything here is centered around change

and this change comes in different forms, because no two characters are the same, and their reactions to the plot are very different. some examples of changes are:

big change (noticeable) vs small change (subtle)

positive change vs negative change

gradual change vs sudden change

change due to introspection vs change due to outside influence

and many more like that!!!

tl;dr: character development is just how the character's personality traits change in a story

types of characters

okay so this is more of a literary thing that i read about online and i found it to be helpful in brainstorming different characters in a story (sadly i don't have formal education in writing since i'm a tech student, but i'm super passionate about writing and i've done my research so yeah!)

so there's different types based on different classifications, but here's a couple of things to help you get started:

based on character development

static character: doesn't really change much in a story, and they're usually side characters with minor roles

dynamic character: they change throughout the story, and they're usually the protagonist

round character: they don't necessarily change, but they're well developed characters (full boxes, as per my prev analogy)

stock characters: the femme fatales, the thugs, the mentors,,, characters whose roles are commonly found in media, and have little to no development

flat characters: they're simple, one dimensional characters who don't change much but they can be important to the plot

based on their role in the story

protagonist: the main character, plot revolves around them, and you experience the story via this character

antagonist: counterpart to the protagonist, serves to create conflict and opposing the protagonist's goal

deuteragonist: like a second main character, used to develop the protagonist, often a sidekick or a trusted friend/family

confidant: the character the protagonist confides in and trusts, which allows readers to understand the protagonist's thoughts

love interest: romantic counterpart to the protagonist, could also be the deuteragonist or any other role

foil: the contrasting character to the protagonist with opposite personality traits, used to draw attention to protagonist's personality via parallels

tertiary character: minor characters with minor roles, usually used to fill up the gaps in the story and move plot forward

honestly there's a lot more to this, but you can definitely do some reading up on the internet to get more of an idea!!! here's a couple of links below:

types of characters: link | link | link

character development: link | link

hope this helps <3 <3 <3

[petty-crush]

Notes from a tribute to Roger Corman

-on July 29th 2024 a double feature was shown at the New Beverly, paying tribute to the recently departed Roger Corman (he produced both)

-the films were “Brain Dead”(1990) and “The Unborn” (1991).

-In between the films both directors of said films (Adam Simon and Rodman Flender, respectively) shared stories and memories

-both cheerfully admitting to loving David Cronenberg, whose prescience is all over their movies

-both actually knew each other quite well, and collaborated on each other’s work

-Flender mentioned how when he went to Harvard he regularly tried to show films like “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” which was cancelled by the facility as it “lowered the aesthetic standards of the program”

-Flender and Simon were never compelled to do artistic wanks inspired by the French new wave or documentaries (which they accuse their classmates of giving into like pigs into shit)

-Flender submitted his student short to Corman. He flew to California (on his own dime). Corman asked if he knew marketing. Flender responded in the negative. Next week he was made head director of international marketing

-Simon had also only done a student short, but was given a chance to direct by Corman(eventually)

-Simon alluded to being fired from a picture by Stallone (he was vague and often didn’t have the microphone close enough to his mouth)

-Simon went home dejected only to see an envelope on his desk. It contained a script Charles Beaumont had written for Corman in the 1960s, but was never made

-Simon loved Beaumont (and the script felt notably Philip k Dick like, another big inspiration)and was blown away he was given the chance to direct it

-Simon mentioned how Julia Roberts auditioned for the female lead, wanting it so bad she hung around the set for a week even after another actress got the part (Simon felt the age gap between her and star Bill Pullman broke credibility)

-Simon laughed at how, for a year after Roberts broke big, Corman would (good naturedly) tease him about that every chance he got

-both Flender and Simon noted how Corman gave each director a list of rules and guidelines before their first film

-including don’t do more than two takes, don’t ask the camera guy how the shot was (“camera men always want another take”), only so many set ups a day are possible, don’t sit down, if a actor has a question- answer with comments on character, and others they forgot in the moment

-Flender cheekily noted Corman didn’t always follow his own advice. When he assistant directed re-shoots for “Frankenstein Unbound” (Corman’s last film) Roger did one take then directly asked the camera man what he thought!

-Flender noted how excited he was to receive the lecture from Corman on directing (he had only heard bits before) but when it came time, Corman noted “I’ve said this speech so many times I’m tired of hearing my own voice. You know what I want” (Flender was a little heartbroken)

-Simon noted how the same year that “Brain Dead” came out, so did “Sex, Lies, and Videotape”; which ushered in an explosion of independent cinema, which took the shine off of new Corman proteges (unlike the wave that produced Joe Dante, John Sayles, etc).

+He bears no grudges

-“Brain Dead” was originally called “Paranoia” but test audiences didn’t understand it or thought it said “Piranha”

-Flender noted how they showed the films for audiences at the Peppertree Cinemas in LA

-hilariously, they just emptied out a screening for another film (in “The Unborn”’s case, “Lionheart” with Van Damne) which caused a third of the audience to just leave

-“but really, that two thirds that stayed, that didn’t care that it wasn’t the film they came to see…I couldn’t imagine a better audience to test your picture against” [Flender]

-Flender noted how they never asked the audience to write down responses, they just watched them (which scenes caused members to wander down the aisles, which moments created unwanted laughs, which horror sections caused screams, etc)

-Simon had a funny moment where Corman, with withered patience, insisted that “Brain Dead” go from 91 minutes to 87 minutes, as the latter was exactly four reels, which saved shipping costs

-“Roger told me ‘Adam, if it was 110 minutes I would let it go. But you’ll survive those lost four minutes’” [Simon]

-Flender was asked by Corman to think of a new film company name, so that he could release additional pictures outside of his exclusive contract with MGM/UA

-“Roger was insistent it have a hard c name, to give it gravitas. ‘Like Cadillac?’ ‘Exactly!’” [Flender]

+(it was eventually called Califilm Pictures)

-Simon had a mild panic attack on his first day, the realization that this wa his big non student break.

-“I went over to Pullman, and totally forgot my comment. I whispered in his ear and admitted my memory lapse. He just looked at me, nodded his head, said ‘Got it’ like I knew what I was talking about. What a guy” [Simon]

-Corman liked what Simon had done and offered him “Body Chemistry” (an erotic thriller). Simon declined and pursued a project with John Landis that didn’t happen (never specified)

-“I went back to Roger, who was smiling, noting that I technically owed him two more films on my three picture contract. I asked what he had for me. With a bigger smile he raised his fingers and said ‘Body Chemistry II’” [Simon]

-Felder noted “what a honor” it was to be the B Film in a tribute to Roger Corman

-both laughed and quickly noted how Corman really didn’t think (or like) of them as B Films, at least in the classic sense of bring the 2nd less important picture on a double bill

-Wrapping it up, Simon and Felder noted how many Corman meant to them, as an inspiration, mentor, and as a film lover. It capsized an genuine sense of joy they felt for the man

Fuck the flowers, they gave him his fruit baskets

[hislittleraincloud]

anon again! just a few more things nick has done in the duration i talked to him for:

- said “i’ve always liked girls your age” when i said i was 16

- trauma dumped during our first conversation

- sent me a pic of..

- said it was good that i was cutting myself

- constantly tried to make every conversation sexual

i used to be one of those lana del rey i love older men vibe girls but now i’m just sick and over it. hope you don’t mind the asks again, it’s the first time i’ve seen someone discuss his behaviour

*sighs a big ol' sigh* No, no, I don't mind at all. Like I mentioned at the end of the last Answer it's actually pretty relevant to what I write about, and given this new info, I'd say it's pretty damn important to blast. I just gotta take some Old Man Pills first. And smoke out...bc otherwise I'll get really angry again.🫠

Aight, point by point:

🚨 "I've always liked girls your age" 🤢 More stench of Humbert, and more evidence of his intentions. Humbert was a pedophile/hebephile, nickn0t seems to have admitted his ephebophilic feelings there.

🚨 Trauma dumping at first meet: I'm really not surprised, given that his letter was a huge sign that he's stuck in his own head/holding his own dick and not caring about whoever is his subject/target.

🚨 If dickn0t sent you a 🍆 pic:

That's probably the Cardinal Rule of engaging with minors online: Do not ever send your nudes/🍆 pics to minors. And if he knew you were 16 when he sent the pic, then I ride at midnight. ⚔️❤️‍🔥☠️❤️‍🔥⚔️

🚨 Cutting: I tried to get out of a relationship with a younger cutter after nothing I tried to do/say helped. She used to send me pics of her scars and once on facetime, she had freshly cut LARGE cuts along her forearm and I almost vomited...never did I tell her that it was good. In fact, I never told any of the cutters that I've known for over 35 years — this includes the girl who accused me of attempted 🔪 — that cutting was a 'good' thing; my own experience with it wasn't a good thing (I cut/carved a poem into my arm the day after I was beaten and thrown from my house by my father...oh wow, it's been just over 32 years). Does it provide psychic pain relief, ofc. But like most pain relief, it's temporary, and even though life has not treated you well enough to feel like you deserve to exist, you don't need to scar yourself with reminders of others' ignorance or callousness. I find directing the anger, sadness, and pain into creativity is much more relieving. Young ones cut, but it doesn't (usually) last into adulthood, which is when those most damaged often turn to other coping mechanisms. No destructive coping mechanism is a good thing, but as for advice on this, I don't have any bc everyone is different and there's no universal bandaid for trauma. I'd tell you to stop, but I know I don't have any purchasing power there. Just be safe🌻✨

🚨 "constantly tried to make every conversation sexual" Well, then we know what he's looking for.

According to my bio I said I'm a big pervert, and it's true. I do like my innuendos and flirting (hey, I'm a Gemini...we ✨flirt✨). And I hold a unique position in that I've been on both sides of this coin: I was the younger girl who chased after older men when I was your age, but I'm now the older man whose life was severely affected by younger women (my ex/the one I lived with for 10 years was 11 years younger than me). I know a thing or two about the sexual dynamics between younger/older, and what younger is looking for vs. what older (AMAB, by longtime observation) is looking for.

Nick's already shat on the thing that makes y'all so beautiful (your brains/your minds), so why waste your time with that? He says he's 40 in his bio. He's not a child by any standards. If young 😺 is all he's after, he needs to suck it up, stop bothering underage girls, and just go onto the multitude of free porn sites out there that have "18+" girls featured. Plenty of free fodder for what he wants/needs to do.

You were good to get out of that situation, but so long as he remains on here prowling for students, there will be more of this 💩. Save/screenshot everything, because according to the law, you're not culpable for the 🍆 pics or unsolicited explicit chats that he sends you, but he is.

[raifenlf]

Why Loki’s Sylvie Is A Mary Sue

So I am firmly in the camp that Sylvie on the Loki series was/is a Mary Sue.  The last episode made me feel better and like maybe the show was doing a thing where they were faking you out that she was a Mary Sue only to show she was actually sort of a bad guy and I liked that.  But all the recent interviews make me think the show wants to go back to her being a Mary Sue.

But I feel like when I call her out for being a Mary Sue people tell me what are you talking about, she’s not a Mary Sue, bad things happen to her, etc.  But that doesn’t actually make her not a Mary Sue.  

Also, before we start, I know some people find Mary Sue sexist.  But I personally use the term for guys and girls. I don’t use the term to belittle women.  I use the term to criticize a poorly written character.

And I know Mary Sue is often used to describe fanfic characters.  But to me, this series is kind of like a fanfic because the writers took a character who had been in canon MCU material for ten years and then created characters around that character.  So, I kind of review it like I would a fanfic.  It’s very different than if the writers had created a brand new show with all of their own new characters.

Anyway, if you are not totally familiar with the Mary Sue term, then check this out:

I know the term Mary Sue probably means different things to different people.  But I have always used these guidelines when I write my own fanfic to make sure my characters never come off as a Mary Sue.

This article really gives you a full scale of what a Mary Sue is.  If you start reading it, you’ll immediately see why Sylvie is.  But I’m going to take out the parts that most fit Sylvie just to highlight why I believe she is a Mary Sue.  I apologize for this being so long.

Mary Sue Character Traits

Personality

Erm... what personality? The typical Mary Sue doesn't have one per se, because she isn't meant to be a character; rather, she's an entity by which the author makes cool stuff happen.

I feel like that is Sylvie in a nutshell.  She doesn’t have a personality.  I feel like even though she ate screentime, I still don’t really know her at all.  The writers love to say she’s badass.  That’s not a personality.  

Sometimes when I am writing stories for fun and creating new characters, I like to take surveys as my fictional characters.  Like the kind of surveys you’d see in a magazine, like personality types, what’s your dating style, etc.  I figure if I don’t know what my character would do in any of those situations, then I need to keep working on my character.  And if I was trying to fill out a survey pretending I was Sylvie I would have no idea what to answer because she doesn’t have a personality.  She’s just “cool”.

What little personality a Mary Sue has isn't as important as how other characters react to it. No matter how shy or socially awkward Mary Sue is supposed to be, other characters will be inexplicably drawn to her

This is so Sylvie.  Loki falls in love with her...why, exactly?  He falls in love with her in the big Nexus event moment...why?  Because she had a tough childhood?  Mobius spends like two seconds with her in a car and goes from hating her to saying she’s his favorite Loki.  For. No. Particular. Reason.

She's extremely persuasive; everyone finds her opinions to be better than their own

She enchants Hunter B-15 and then immediately Hunter B-15 makes it her whole entire life mission to back Sylvie up.  

And occasionally she'll be a complete asshole...This can manifest itself in several ways...The author wants to write a badass but doesn't know how. This leads to a character who mistreats everyone around her and is never called out on her abrasive, casually abusive behavior.

Sylvie talked down to Loki and treated him like garbage for all of episode three, but it was never portrayed as a bad thing and we never got any impression Sylvie later felt bad for the way she treated Loki

The author doesn't know how to hold back the character, meaning that she will succeed at practically everything. This means that when she encounters rules or authority figures who would otherwise prevent her from doing what she wants to do, she rolls right through them (and they praise her for her "boldness" in defying regulations). If a bad guy is violent and aggressive, she can beat him by being more violent and aggressive (with all that entails). It's impossible for her to go overboard because she's protected by Protagonist-Centered Morality.

Sylvie is shown as a kid to immediately be able to grab a Tempad and run away.  And she can kick ass way better than Loki, for no known reason.  She is always able to fight back against the TVA when they attack her.  And she can kill lots of innocent TVA agents but it’s okay because TVA bad, Sylvie good.

Skills

She will always be superior to the canon characters, regardless of what canon has established they can do or whether it makes any sense.

Whose skill was needed to defeat Alioth?  Sylvie’s.  Of course.  Sylvie needed to teach Loki her skills in order for him to succeed (!).  And again, she is literally called the superior Loki.

Relatedly, there's no effort to her skills. She never actually trains or learns anything to become more powerful; she just wins the Super Power Lottery, or is a freakish natural learner, or is just Inexplicably Awesome

We’re told Sylvie literally taught herself magic.  She literally taught herself to enchant people.  That. Makes. No. Sense.  Like, I have so many questions.  Like, why would it even occur to her to teach herself that?  And how????????????  This is really lazy writing.

Canon Character Relationships

Mary Sue is often designed to hook up with another character, often as a form of Wish Fulfillment. This isn't that bad in and of itself (okay, it is kinda weird), but Mary Sue accomplishes this without any sense of realism. She just grabs her lover's attention straight away, and their relationship will never face any obstacles or tension; it's true love from the start and nothing else. The biggest giveaway is if the love interest is explicitly the author's favorite character, and she essentially "cures" him of all the angst that ails him (at the expense of his characterization).

Yeah, so...this one should be pretty obvious to anyone who watched the show.  Loki literally falls in love with Sylvie immediately, and then he suddenly turns from “villain” to “hero” just because of loving her.  And this was definitely at the expense of his characterization.  And Loki just knows he falls in love with her.  There’s not even any moments of hmm what do I feel for this person?  It’s just true love, immediately.

She will be related to a canon character in some way. This (marginally) helps explain such phenomena as her being a Copy Cat Sue and other characters accepting her so easily.

Sylvie is a Loki variant.  They use this to help explain why Loki is drawn to her and why their falling in love immediately “makes sense”.

Most characters give her more heed than they normally would. The good guys never stop praising her

Seriously, it was so over the top and OOC for Loki to gush over her.  He literally tells her she’s amazing.  They don’t even make it subtle.

Characters' previously established personalities change in reaction to her. Proud, arrogant gimps suddenly acknowledge her superiority in everything. Reckless youths will listen to all her advice. Responsible leaders will defer to her instead. Villains will obsess with her to the detriment of all else. Extremely competent characters will become stumbling buffoons who require her help to do anything. Sweet, mild-mannered characters whom the author doesn't like turn evil and insult her. They all become unnaturally focused on her in some way.

Again, Loki’s whole personality changed in reaction to her.  He became a buffoon who needed her help to enchant the Alioth because of course he couldn’t do anything without her!  Hunter B-15 goes from doing whatever the TVA said to fighting the TVA just because of Sylvie.

Story Elements

Mary Sue is without exception a single-person Spotlight-Stealing Squad. The entire story hinges on her existence; if you removed her, there would be no story. 

Sylvie undoubtedly drove the whole story this season.  It all became about HER meeting the TVA heads because of HER trauma.  Loki’s life was only saved at the beginning because the TVA was trying to capture HER.  And SHE was the one who started the whole multiverse (!).

Mary Sue is The Chosen One, even if the setting already has one. There are many ways she can accomplish this: she can be a Sailor Earth type who "shares" the position with the canon hero; she may be vaguely "destined to help the destined one fulfill their destiny" (i.e. do all the work except the final blow so that the prophecy is still technically correct); or the canon hero may be revealed to be a Fake Ultimate Hero all along. Being the Chosen One doesn't necessarily involve her being a God-Mode Sue, especially as authors become aware of the phenomenon and try to avoid it, but it does make her critically important to the world and allows her to continue stealing the spotlight without the "god mode" label.

HWR wanted Sylvie to come with Loki in the end, like she was chosen all along right alongside Loki.  Like one of the most important characters in the entire MCU is now this character who we only met a few episodes ago.

Most Sues have an unusually Dark and Troubled Past. It's often used to create a Sympathetic Sue, but any type of Sue can have one

They tell us, over and over, how hard Sylvie’s life was because she was kidnapped by the TVA in order to create sympathy for her.

She almost never does anything wrong. In the rare instance that she does, it's usually; (a) a way for the author to disclaim her being a Mary Sue by introducing a single imperfection (that has no bearing on anything anyway), and (b) designed to show her smarts by making her feel instant remorse, and she'll be Easily Forgiven anyway:

So this one hopefully will not come true, as a lot can change between now and when the show is taped. But if the show goes on the way the behind the scenes team is talking, Sylvie immediately felt remorse for betraying Loki, and Loki has already forgiven her and is desperately looking for her.  Ugh.

Alternatively, she is more than capable of doing something wrong, be it in general moral terms or something that goes against whatever code she abides by, and she maybe even frequently does so, but don't expect the other characters or the narrative to ever acknowledge or comment on it in any real capacity. If the other characters do call her out, expect them to be treated like they're the problem for daring to criticize her at all.

Mobius calls her out for killing people, but Sylvie immediately says he’s a bad person and then Mobius agrees, because, of course.

She will often suffer from Special Snowflake Syndrome; i.e., she has a trait or backstory that sets her apart from her group or race.

She is the only female Loki, thus making her the special one among all the Lokis in episode five.

Presentation

In visual media, the camera just can't stop staring at her.

The camera would follow her in fight scenes rather than Loki.

Mary Sue Tropes

Okay, so there are specific Mary Sue tropes that Sylvie is.  One of those is Copy Cat Sue, which I think was referenced before.

Copy Cat Sue

A lot of fanfic writers...start to write something because of their passion for this character, but they find something about the character that doesn't mesh well. Maybe they're the wrong gender or are otherwise not close enough to the author's expectations...In any case, rather than put them through the Possession Sue process, they just get a Clone-O-Matic™ and out pops a Copy Cat Sue...the character might be intended as a replacement for the canon character, but without whatever icky traits the author hates. They'll then rob the spotlight, prove the canon character to be unworthy of his/her position, and either relegate the character to obsolescence or, perhaps, even remove them entirely.

Sylvie is basically a clone of Loki, she is a variant.  But she absolutely robbed the spotlight of Loki’s, and they literally call her the superior Loki.  I mean, they are literally not even being subtle about this.  And there was a feeling by myself (and a lot of other viewers) that Sylvie might ultimately replace Loki in the MCU. 

Black Hole Sue

Much like a black hole, this is a Mary Sue who "sucks in" the plot and characters to her. Characters will behave outside their personalities, logic will be defied, and rules will be broken for her sake.

Sylvie really does suck up all the plot and Loki definitely behaves outside of his personality just to fit the Sylvie show.

Jerk Sue

A Mary Sue who is mean or maybe even cruel, but are still treated as an ideal person.

Once again, Sylvie is basically a jerk all of episode three, but you’ve got Loki falling over himself to call her amazing in just the next episode.

Relationship Sue

A Mary Sue who exists to be the perfect mate for a specific character...this character has everything in the plot conspiring to enforce this One True Pairing...in Fanfiction, they are the perfect beloved of a canon character.

They literally have Mobius speculate that Loki falling in love with Sylvie is so extraordinary that it causes an entire Nexus event, that’s how huge this One True Pairing is (!).  And Sylvie is the love interest of Loki, the only character who had been around before the beginning of the series

TLDR: Sylvie has all the tropes of a classic Mary Sue character.  So calling Sylvie a Mary Sue isn’t being sexist or just randomly hating on the character.  If you use common Mary Sue characteristics to examine the character, she just has too many of these characteristics to ignore.

[anonymouslyangsty]

Ultimate clairvoyant!Taka

Wow congrats. You just found the worst possible talent for Kiyotaka Ishimaru. I'm impressed.

Fair warning this is very long. I got excited.

Listen It's the worst talent for him and I adore that. He's all about hard work and effort, working hard instead of relying on 'talent'. And yet he has a supernatural ability that he neither earned nor can really work hard at.

Taka would definitely feel guilt or shame over his ability, because what has he done to earn it? Why should he have some magic ability that gives him an unfair advantage? And even if he rarely used the ability, he'd always feel like a cheater, just some genius.

I can absolutely see Toranosuke being the first to catch onto Taka's ability. Like maybe he's watching a local election on TV while Taka's in the room, and jokingly asks the 5 year old who he thinks will win. Taka pauses for a moment, before very confidently picking one of the candidates. And...he's right.

And if it were a one time thing, you could easily write it off. He had a 50% chance to be right after all. But Toranosuke's interest is peaked. So he tries again, maybe lets Taka guess the winning numbers on a lottery ticket. The boy is right again.

Maybe this is what causes the scandal in this au? Toranosuke starts making perfect investments, so perfect that people suspect his abusing his position to get insider information. After all, how can he so perfectly predict when to invest, or when to sell his stock?

At this point, he can either claim to just be very good at what he does, which won't convince anyone...or he can tell the truth about his grandson. And really, what's the downside of doing that? It proves he isn't abusing his power (at least not in the way they're accusing him of), and it GIVES him more power. Because if Kiyotaka really does have this ability, then everyone is going to want to talk to the boy.

So Toranosuke proves without a shadow of a doubt that Taka can predict things, likely on national television. It's...a pretty big freaking deal, because it straight up proves that supernatural things are real.

Takaaki is very much out of the loop on this whole thing. The first he hears about Taka's ability is when his father's is dragging the boy on television to prove it. Takaaki is...unhappy that his father would do that without warning him, to say the least.

So Taka basically becomes a child god to some people. Politicians pay ridiculous amounts of money to get predictions and advice from this 7 year old boy. There's a legit cult that worships Taka. Maybe even a few kidnapping attempts, because who wouldn't want the boy who can predict the future?

Takaaki doesn't like that such a young boy is getting dragged into this kind of stuff. It's unhealthy, and some of Taka's 'followers' are obsessive and extreme in what they'll do. A 7 year old shouldn't have worshipers.

But even as his father, Takaaki has very little power to stop what's happening. It's an entire movement, with billions of yen involved and millions of people. The fact that Taka is his son doesn't have much sway at that point. The best he can do is make sure Toranosuke doesn't exhaust his son by keeping him up all night making predictions.

As for Taka, I'm sure he loves it at first. He's helping his grandfather! He's making so many people happy! And people like him and give him things! What little kid wouldn't like it?

But as he gets older, Taka begins to question if it's really a good thing. Because some of the people he's helping don't seem to be good people. They're politicians who aren't helping people, or businessmen who are abusing the information he gave them. And the older Taka gets the more he questions if what he's doing is right.

I definitely want this Kiyotaka empire to fall somehow. Maybe the stress of the position, the fear that he's doing the wrong thing, finally gets to Taka. And his dad knows that Toranosuke won't do what's best for the boy's mental health. So he takes Taka and runs, moving into some small run down town in the middle of nowhere, praying that nobody will recognize them.

Once they've escaped the spotlight, Taka starts doing what you'd expect from him. Working hard at school, joining the morals committee, generally being a teacher's pet, ect. Perhaps he feels like he has to make up for being a tool for corrupt politicians, for having a special edge up on others that he didn't earn.

He tries his best to ignore his powers, but the fact that he doesn't want to be a clairvoyant doesn't mean he isn't one. And going from using his powers constantly to never using them does have its consequences.

Taka doesn't want to magically know which student was going to run in the hall, or who was going to try to sneak out and smoke during lunch. It's immoral of him to abuse his powers like that, even if he is right! But he does know, and he can't just sit by and let the rules be broken, even if he got to information through unjust means.

I can also see him starting to sleepwalk at some point, because all that magical energy isn't just going to stay dormant. Takaaki is very used to his son walking into his room at 3 am, and telling him to invest in some company or another. Then just...flopping on the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut. Takaaki’s gotten very good at catching him before that happens, though he’s considering buying his son a helmet to sleep in just in case.

But even for all their hiding, Taka's absolutely going to be found sooner or later. He was known as the most powerful boy in Japan, he can't just disappear without people hunting him down. Plus Taka has a very distinctive face, with the bright red eyes and huge eyebrows.

Maybe that's why he accepted a position at HP. Not because he wants anything to do with his power, but because he wants his father not to have to deal with all of the madness surrounding it. If Taka leaves, the cult following, the constant hounding, the pursuit, goes with him. Takaaki can have a normal life.

(Also, imagine how heartbreaking and infuriating it would be for Taka to get that invitation. Because this Taka has worked just as hard as canon Taka. He got perfect grades through hard work, because he knows that magically knowing the answers isn't the same as understanding the material. He's just as hard working, just as qualified for the role of Ultimate Moral Compass. And yet he's recognized for something that he can't control. He's recognized for genius rather than effort.)

Final few statements, because golly this has gotten long. I do think Taka's powers work differently than Hiro's. Taka doesn't get quite as many predictions as Hiro, but when he does get them, they're 100% accurate.

While Taka probably can predict anything, most of his predictions specifically involve politics, economic trends, and things involving breaking rules. It's likely because that's what he's interested in, so that's where his predictions focus.

Now I'm thinking about Kiyotaka and Kyoko working together on a case. Taka can predict what'll happen before it does happen, and Kyoko has the ability to solve the case with the help of Taka's predictions.

[missmentelle]

Hello So i'm about to move from my parents house into an aprtment with my best friend and her friend as roomates. Do you've got any tips on how to make sure we won't get into huge fights, learning how to be responisble with the bugdet and getting to know her friend more? I am really stressed out about it but there's no going back now

It can definitely be nerve-wracking to live with people you aren’t related to for the first time, whether you are moving in with friends, your partner, or random roommates off the internet. I’ve lived with many, many people over the years - most of them strangers I found online - and the best advice I can give you to make the experience more pleasant is to set ground rules and boundaries early, and to make sure that everyone is on the same page. Even close friends can have very different expectations when it comes to sharing a living space, and the big things that you’ll probably want to figure out are:

Shared expenses. Are common staples like margarine, ketchup, salt, dish soap, toilet paper and cooking oil going to be shared by the entire household, or does everyone have to buy their own? If you are sharing stuff, can one person decide to just go buy stuff that’s running low and ask for reimbursement, or do you all need to agree in advance? My roommates and I used to keep a communal list on the fridge that one person would use to make our monthly Costco run, and we’d all just pay one-third of whatever the total ended up being. You might prefer a similar approach, or you might just take turns paying - ie “I bought the last pack of toilet paper, now you buy the next one”. It depends on your budget, and how good your housemates are about holding up their end of the bargain. If you are on a smaller budget than others, or if one roommate tends to use more than their fair share, it might be less of a headache if everyone just buys their own stuff. It’s also important to figure out how rent and bills will be paid - whose name are they in? Are you paying rent with three separate cheques, or is one person writing a cheque for the whole rent? If one person is writing a cheque, when do you need to give them your portion of the rent each month?

Shared household items and appliances. If everyone has brought some kitchen items - cups, mugs, plates, etc - into the household, is every item totally up for grabs, or are there any special items (like a favourite mug or expensive blender) that not everyone is allowed to use? How is fridge and pantry space going to be divided? Are everyone’s items just put into the cupboards together, or do you each get a cupboard for the things you individually own? Does anyone have any allergies or dietary restrictions - like Kosher or Halal requirements - that make it important for other people to not use their dishes? My roommates and I always put our kitchen stuff together in a jumble and just went with it, but I have friends with strict Kosher roommates who cannot share any kitchenware at all. Will you all chip in to buy shared items like a couch and coffee table, or will one person buy the item and own it by themselves? 

Chore schedule. Different people have different standards of cleanliness, and it’s important to figure out how often cleaning should be done so that no one feels like they’re living in a hovel. How quickly should people be doing their dishes - as soon as they’ve finished cooking? Within 24 hours? Or will you eat together and take turns washing dishes? How often will non-daily chores - like mopping the floors, cleaning the shower stall, and cleaning the oven - be done, and who will do them? My roommates and I used to block out 2-3 hours every Sunday as “cleaning time” when we would all deep-clean the apartment together, but you might prefer to have assigned individual chores that you can do on your own time. 

Guest policy. Overnight guests and partners are probably one of the biggest sources of tension in a roommate relationship. Namely, how long can you have a guest stay in the apartment with you before they need to start chipping in with the bills? Do you need to give the other roommates advance notice before a guest comes to stay for a while? How many days out of the month can someone’s partner stay over before they effectively become part of the household and need to pitch in with bills and chores? Is it even okay if someone’s partner is staying over constantly, or are you not cool with that at all? Are roommates allowed to give their partners a key to the apartment, or does everyone in the apartment need to be on board before that can happen? My roommates and I had a lot of long-term guests in our tiny Manhattan apartment, but that only went smoothly because everyone was 100% okay with having long-term guests, and we had a hard limit on how many days someone could stay out of the month before they needed to start putting money in our “toilet paper and dish soap” fund. 

Shower schedule. If everyone in the apartment is working on a similar Monday-Friday, 9-5 schedule (which is less likely to be the case these days, but still), it’s important to work out a basic schedule for who gets to shower when in the mornings. There is nothing that will make you want to flip out on your roommate quite like being late for work because they took a 45-minute shower when you needed to get ready. If you don’t each have your own ensuite bathroom, figure out who gets the bathroom when in the mornings, or decide who is going to shower at night to avoid conflict. 

Quiet hours. At what hours of the day is it inconsiderate for a roommate to be making noise or watching TV in common areas while people are trying to sleep? The answer may depend on the layout of the apartment, your individual work schedules, and how sensitive everyone is to noise. If you have roommates that work nights or are working from home during the day and need quiet for their conference calls, that’s something else to keep in mind. 

Breaking the lease. What happens if something comes up, and one person needs to leave before the lease is over? How much notice do they need to give the other roommates? Is it the departing roommate’s responsibility to find someone to take over their bedroom, or would the remaining roommates rather choose who they are living with? If you all pitched in to make a big purchase together - like a couch or a kitchen table - how will that work if one person leaves the lease? And how will the damage deposit be handled? The majority of leases I’ve been on have not had all the original roommates stay until the end, and it was important to plan for that in advance so that no one felt like they’d been tricked into living with someone new that they never agreed to live with. 

Above all, the secret to living with roommates is to communicate, and to try to be as considerate of others as you can. The way that you live and manage your finances directly affects your roommates’ quality of life, and everyone needs to put in some serious effort to make sure that everyone gets to enjoy the living space that they are paying for. The money stuff is especially important - talk to your roommates ahead of time about what costs you will be sharing and what costs you won’t, and make sure that you are setting aside the money you need for shared expenses each month so that no one is left holding the bag. And be sure to speak up if other roommates aren’t respecting your needs either - the occasional dirty coffee cup left in the sink or wine spilled on the rug is just a part of life and probably not worth fighting over, but if someone is consistently neglecting their chores, making huge messes, making lots of noise at night or failing to pay their fair share of household expenses, that’s a situation that you need to speak up about, so that you can all try to find a way to resolve the issue. Living with a friend, roommate or partner is all about finding a balance between accommodating other people and sticking up for yourself, and it’s a balance that will be become easier with time. 

It’s also important to find time to just enjoy hanging out with your roommates. Yes, living with other people can be scary and stressful, and there may be times when you’re ready to scream because someone ate your ice cream without permission and no one remembered to buy more toilet paper, but there will also be good times, especially if you are living with someone you are already friends with. Some of the best memories of my early 20s were just from hanging out with my roommates - like the time that we got drunk on cheap wine and painted some silly paintings because we couldn’t afford to decorate the apartment properly, or the time we got a huge box of breakfast food from the local diner and stayed up all night watching Game of Thrones, or the time we had to spend all day taking all our IKEA furniture apart in the lobby and carrying it up to our walk-up piece by piece because none of us could lift the boxes, and we barely made it up the stairs because we were laughing so hard. Being young and kind of broke and living with your friends can be a very fun time in your life, and it’s important to enjoy it - hang out together, do silly things, enjoy making mistakes because none of you have any real idea what you’re doing. Just because you have financial responsibilities and a chore chart doesn’t mean that you can’t have fun.  Best of luck to you! Miss Mentelle

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 13)

(gif by me! I use the iphone app momento)

tw: language, angst, mentions of drug use (relapse), mentions of miscarriage

word count: 7.3k (im sorry)

masterlist

series masterlist

Spencer got up from the cold tile floor, fuzzy unicorn in hand, and faced the window above the kitchen sink. He stared out of it, admiring the snow that was still falling lightly, wondering if it was raining in Seattle. His memory flashed to the last time he stood in the rain with you, but he tried to shake the images away. Instead he watched the snowflakes hit his windowpanes and melt. He hoped that maybe you were somewhere staring out of a window, admiring the dreary weather, and thinking of him too. 

He found his place against the dishwasher again, sliding down as his mismatched socks gave way so he could stretch his long legs out fully. He pulled the nearly empty box onto his lap and appreciated the light weight of it, as he continued with his twelfth letter and thirteenth item. Thirteen, a number whose history of unluckiness stems all the way back to the thirteen attendees of the Last Supper, and tracks through the number of steps leading up to the gallows, all the way to the number of letters in the names of some of the most infamous criminals. 

Thirteen was a haunted number, which rightly accompanied a haunting letter. 

“This one’s long. It’s a month of tarnished memories packed into a few pieces of paper. So far I’ve gone through half of a college-ruled one subject notebook and I’ve had to change pens twice. It’s nearing 2:30, and the wine is finally hitting my empty stomach. Sorry in advance for the way my handwriting will be. I’ll try to make this make as much sense as I can. 

If you look at your thirteenth item it is the notepad I stole from that resort in Florida. There isn’t much around to signify this letter. You don’t keep mementos from one of the saddest days of your life, but for some reason I took this useless paper and shoved it in my purse on my way out. Good thing I did, or you’d have no item to attach to these memories. Though I suppose that might be better. 

The resort was where we were going to be at for our ‘babymoon,’ whatever that is. What a dumb idea, I’m still mad at myself for letting Garcia talk us into one. She just made it sound so appealing. 

Once everyone knew I was pregnant, Hotch pretty much sat me in Quantico with Penelope. There were a few local cases where I was lucky enough to go visit the ME’s office, but usually I kicked my feet up in her lair while you were out in the field. 

“A what?” I said one day as she ran DNA through CODIS. The two of us were drinking herbal tea, and I was barely 16 weeks. I just looked like I had a big lunch in my stomach, not a baby the size of an avocado. 

“A babymoon. It’s like a honeymoon, but you go when you’re pregnant. It’s one last trip for mommy and daddy to go on and spend quality time together. How many trips have you and Dad-Wonder even been on?”

I shrugged. We didn’t travel much for pleasure. We traveled for work, so on our rare days off we liked to be at home. 

“I mean we’ve gone to Vegas and Connecticut a few times.”

She rolled her eyes, “Visiting family, my dear, is not a vacation! I was thinking you two would go to the beach. You guys relax and wade in the ocean and Spencer can build sandcastles that defy every law of physics!”

I laughed at that. You and the beach? It just didn’t feel natural to me. Probably because you aren’t capable of actually relaxing.  

“That does sound fun,” I said and I spoke to my barely there stomach, “And it would make daddy take a few days off.”

Penelope squealed and started clicking at her computer, “I’ll find a resort online right now! Okay so how about Marco Island? It’s gorgeous and in Florida, so it’ll be like eighty and sunny, even in the beginning of December.”

“I’ll have to talk to Spence about it. I mean I know it would be fun and all but we really should be saving money for a crib, and car seat, and bassinet, and high chair, and a rocking chair, and a baby swing, and a—“

Garcia stopped me from spiraling out of control, “That is why you throw a huge baby shower! People buy those things for you.”

I rubbed my tummy again, “Oh no, Daddy is very particular about what things are bought.”

“That’s why you have a registry, Momma Bear. Now, no more excuses.”

Before I could even call you, she had put in both of our requests for days off and we had a week long reservation at this fancy resort that you see listed at the top of this notepad, the “Crystal Cove”.  

I was only slightly mortified that she did all this without me asking you. Mostly, I was happy. I was afraid you wouldn’t say yes, but if PG already booked it, you kind of had to agree. And to my surprise, you did. 

When you got back from that case we were at home, you eating something I had poorly made from a random cookbook on a shelf. I had decided to start cooking more, so I could make homemade meals. I wanted to be that mom who cuts sandwiches into flower shapes and always has fresh baked bread and cookies laying around. I wanted us to be those parents; the ones who are so sickeningly in love that their kids roll their eyes every time they kiss. We were those parents, kind of, if we could even be considered ‘parents.’ At that point, I don’t think we were. But we were definitely in tooth-rotting, sickeningly sweet love. 

“So, I have a surprise for you,” I said, coming up behind you and rustling your hair. 

“Hm?” You said, stuffing your face like you hadn’t eaten in days. You probably hadn’t. You’re the king of forgetting to eat. Maybe that’s how you stay so skinny. 

“I booked a trip, well I guess technically Garcia did.”

“A trip?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, a trip, to the beach. Penelope called it a ‘babymoon.’”

You laughed, “A babymoon? I’m not familiar."

I smiled and sat across from you, “It’s like a honeymoon, except it's just me and you relaxing and spending quality time together before this lil dude makes his appearance.”

You smiled, “I’m telling you, it’s a girl.”

I rolled my eyes, “It’s definitely a boy, but stop ignoring my offer.”

“Well, it’s not really an offer so much as it is you telling me that we’re doing this.”

“Okay, yes Garcia helped me book it already, and yes she put in our requests for days off, but you can say no.”

You did your little nose twitch scrunch thing, “I’d never say no to quality time with you, Love.”

You leaned over and kissed me, and I squealed, “I’m so excited! I have to buy maternity bathing suits now! Oh and a sunhat!””

Spencer smiled fondly, recounting that day. He was thrilled to go, minus the part where he’d have to wear shorts, and flip flops. Something about the piece that goes between your toes makes him squeamish. He was looking for the right opportunity to use something special he had bought for you, and you had just given him it. A week on a beautiful beach with the love of his life? That would be the perfect time to ask you what he had been waiting to ask you since JJ’s wedding. He was going to take Hotch’s advice; stop waiting, start doing, and get down on one knee with a blue velvet box. 

He never got the chance to. The trip was supposed to be in the beginning of December, around your week twenty-four. You never got that far. 

He got up from the ground, immediately digging around in a drawer full of pencils and compasses and rulers, finding the blue box in a corner. It was covered in pencil shavings and dust. He hadn’t looked at it in months. He held it delicately in his hands before opening it. 

It was plain, but he remembered you said that was what you wanted. 

“Oval, of course and silver,” You had explained to Penelope and JJ at a night out years ago. Derek and Spencer sat on the opposite side of the table, but his ears perked up at the mention of rings. 

“I like just the band,” JJ said, admiring her own ring, “And I have Henry’s birthstone, the citrine, so I didn’t need another one.”

“What kind of stone Y/N? I’d love a pink diamond! Or a ruby! Imagine!” Penelope gushed. 

You shook your head, “I’d take cubic zirconia, if it was coming from the right guy.”

Both Penelope and JJ stuck their tongues out, “Nuh-uh!” Garcia said, grabbing her phone to scroll through more pinterest photos. 

“Spence will be getting you a diamond.”

You rolled your eyes and whispered, “Don’t jinx it JJ! And I don’t want a diamond.”

Her mouth dropped, “No diamond? Really.”

“Diamonds aren’t ethically sourced.”

“Lab grown! Get lab grown!” PG piped it, showing you a picture of a ring, just an oval in a plain silver setting. 

“That! That’s the one!” You said and Garcia giggled, going on a rant about her dream wedding. 

Spencer had gotten that exact ring. Lab grown, oval, classic, beautiful. It was what you wanted, and you deserved everything you ever wanted. 

Spencer looked at the notepad. He could tell you had a hard time picking an item for this letter. He knows this letter is the end, the other two are the epilogue of  a story he wishes you kept writing. Crystal Cove is the place where he had planned on asking you to marry him, but it ended up being the place where your love story ended. He tossed the notebook to the side and decided that the souvenir for this letter was now going to be this ring. This ring that sparkled and shined, even in the dull incandescent lights of his kitchen. This ring that belonged on your finger, and not in the back of a drawer. This ring that you didn’t even know existed, but if you had, maybe you’d still be together. 

“I did buy three maternity bathing suits, and you bought shorts. Spencer Reid in shorts. It was going to be the best trip ever. We were going to snorkel and look at sea turtles and sunbathe and drink virgin piña coladas by the ocean. We were going to get couples massages and spend every moment loving and appreciating each other.

The actual trip? Much different than the one we had planned on paper, but let’s first discuss that time between the hospital and the trip. 

It was four weeks. Four weeks of me sitting at home while you were off at work. Four weeks of the door opening and Derek walking through, not you. And on the odd chance that it was you opening the door, you’d be appearing at odd hours of the night to grab a new suit or a file or a snack and then getting back in your shitty car and going to your apartment. Each time I heard that comforting sound of your satchel hitting the floor, I’d crawl out of the cave of blankets I was in to find you, and you’d act like I wasn’t even there. 

For the first few days, you asked me how I was and if I was feeling better, then you’d check your phone and wave goodbye. After that, I was lucky if you’d say hello, then I was lucky if I even got a glimpse of you. You never held me. You never kissed me. You never told me you loved me.

I got all my information about you from Derek. Every day I texted you, “Have a good day at work! Talk soon?” And everyday you didn’t answer, so I’d ask Derek if you were okay. He’d always tell me what you were doing. Usually you would take a stack of files of cases to a dark room and make preliminary profiles to send back to the departments, alone. I’d tell him thank you, and the next day would be the same nonsense. 

Those four weeks dragged. It was like every minute was an hour and everyday was a year. I was healing, even without you, everyday I felt better and better. But that’s relative to the day before. I haven’t felt ‘good’ yet. I haven’t felt ‘happiness’ yet. But I will. And I’m counting on that. 

My mandatory leave was four weeks, and at the end of that Hotch called me in for a ‘mandatory psychological evaluation.’ I didn’t tell you about it because you weren’t speaking to me, and even when you did you were angry and snappy and rude.  

I didn’t pass the evaluation. Even though the BAU wrote those damn questions, I still didn’t pass. When my four weeks were up, you were expecting me at work, and I never showed. You didn’t notice how not okay I was because you were too busy handling your own feelings, which I understand. You have to take care of yourself first, deal with your own trauma before touching anyone else’s. So, your trauma was none of my business, a concept you should've applied to my healing process. 

I was supposed to come back on a Monday and when I didn’t show you came to the house. You opened the door and yelled my name. It was a sound I hadn’t heard in weeks, and it felt good. I thought you had finally come home. I thought you were finally ready to heal with me, but you weren’t. You were there to judge me.

I think I ran to where you were, a smile on my face that I didn’t think I was capable of making, “Hey!”

You looked so put together in a neatly pressed suit, but your eyes exposed you. They were bloodshot and the bags were so large they almost reached the end of your nose. I had on one of your shirts; it was comforting at the time. Not so much anymore.  

You looked me up and down, a small scowl forming on your face, “Where were you today?”

I took a deep breath, and I lied, because lying to you felt easier than telling you the truth. The truth that I was not deemed stable enough to come back, even though I wanted to. I needed to be distracted. I was ashamed, scared, confused. 

“I-I didn’t go.”

“Didn’t go? You’ll get fired Y/N.”

I sighed, “No, my leave got extended.”

I could feel the way your eyes bore into my skull as I dodged eye contact. 

“Extended?! It’s been four weeks.”

“I’m not ready!” I desperately wanted you to see through it. I thought I was ready, but the papers disagreed.

“Hotch let you do that?” Your voice was increasing and I found myself inching away from you.

“He encouraged it!” Another lie. He didn’t ‘encourage’ it. He forced me.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag and opening the door again.

“You’re leaving? Spencer c’mon I-”

You cut me off by slamming that door in my face. 

That’s when I started closing myself off. I started dreading the sound of your feet against the floor at three am. I started to put my own walls up, but they would dull in comparison to the Great Wall of Spencer you built around yourself to keep me out.”

Spencer was always good at putting walls up. In fact, you were the only person to ever get him to take (almost) all of them down. There’s a side of him he doesn’t show anyone, a side of him that he reserves for himself, and when something happens, that’s where he goes. He goes to the corner of his brain where he feels safe, and the walls come up to protect him.

And in those last four weeks, he did just that. He put the walls up, shut you out, and decided that was better. Except it wasn’t better, it just was easier. It was easier for him to bypass you and find a new outfit for work tomorrow. It was easier for him to disappear in the office until the odd hours of the morning. It was easier for him to hide away from you, because when he’s exposed he always gets hurt. It was easier to act like everything was fine, even though everything was the opposite of fine. 

He never needed to go to the house, part of him was drawn there like a moth to a lantern. He was drawn to you. As much as he didn’t want to see those four walls, he still needed to check on you. He just did it in his own damaged way. He’d get a glimpse of you in old sweats and a shirt with a hole in it, hair a mess and mascara from two weeks ago adding to your eye bags and he’d be reminded that he couldn’t be there for you. He would never be enough, and he’d retreat into the comfort of solitude. 

He was so preoccupied with being hurt, that he didn’t realize just how much he hurt you too. 

“I had forgotten about the stupid trip, and so had you. You were too preoccupied with work and not speaking to me and I was preoccupied with crying and trying to speak to you. I only remembered the trip when I got an email from the airline about the flight, they had to move our seats or something stupid. I decided that was a reason for you to actually need to speak to me like I was a person, so I took advantage of it. 

I intercepted you at home one day. I had been sitting in the kitchen waiting for you. You came home at two am. 

“Hey,” I said, immediately as you walked through the door. You looked surprised that I was up. 

“Hi, I’m just gonna—“

“Spencer, stop. We have to talk.”

You crossed your arms, not leaving the threshold of the door, “No. I told you a million times Y/N, I don’t want to talk.”

“Not about...” I couldn’t find the words and you started up the stairs. 

“Are we going on this damn trip or not?” I said, my voice cracking from lack of use. 

You stopped, looking over the banister at me, “You didn’t cancel it?”

“I didn’t think of it until now. We’re supposed to leave in two days.”

You groaned, “Why didn’t you cancel it?”

I threw my hands up. As if all of this was my responsibility? 

 “I was preoccupied! Did you cancel your days off?”

You shook your head, rubbing your face, “No, God. Can we still get a refund?”

I was hurt that you didn’t want to go, but not surprised. As I stared at the front door from my spot at the kitchen table I decided that I was going to go no matter what. It was going to be refreshing to look at the ocean instead of an empty nursery. That would be my distraction.

 “I-I’m going. I’ll pay for your half, but I’m going. I’m losing my mind here, Spence.”

You looked at me again, still contemplating your options. 

“I get it, okay? You can’t be in this house, but neither can I. Maybe we can talk and stuff on neutral ground. I-I just want you there with me, the way it was supposed to be.”

Then you took me by surprise, you nodded, “Yeah, yeah we’ll go.”

I’m sure I lit up like Rockefeller Center at Christmas, “Really?”

You rubbed your eyes, “Yeah, we can go Y/N.”

I was feeling lucky, so I pushed it, too hard, “Are you staying tonight?”

Your voice went from sleepy to sour, “No.”

And you vanished up the stairs, taking all my hope in us with you. 

I knew deep down it wouldn’t end well. I knew it was going to be fighting and yelling and arguing, but any time with you was good time with you at that point. And I favored the little bit of serotonin and dopamine you flood my brain with as opposed to staring at the gray walls of the kitchen alone.”

Spencer only agreed to go because he thought he was getting there. Everyday he felt a little better when he’d walk through the door, but he still wasn’t ready. He thought a week of no work and no one to talk to except you would bring the walls down. This would finally be the catalyst in a reaction that was taking far too long to complete. He also couldn’t stand the thought of you flying and spending a week alone. He felt better about you being alone here because you weren’t really alone. You had Derek visiting, Garcia dropping off baskets, phone calls from Emily, the odd visit from Rossi, and apparently phone calls to Hotch, but on that island you’d really be alone, and he was worried about how you’d handle it. 

“So two days later we got on a three hour flight to Miami, and I drove our rental car to this resort. We didn’t talk much the whole time, besides some small talk about the flight and other odd comments. It was painfully awkward, and I regretted even coming. 

We didn’t speak until I used the keycard to open the door, and we stared at the one king sized bed in the room.

“Oh,” was all you said when you realized you’d have to share with me.

“What?”

“There’s only one bed.”

I rolled my eyes, “Spencer, we’ve shared a bed for three years.”

You just stood at the door with your hands fidgeting on the handle of the suitcase, “I’ll call down and ask for a cot to be brought up.”

“A cot? Are you serious?” I couldn’t believe you, “Why come if you wouldn’t even share a bed with me? I said I’d be fine alone.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but changed your mind. 

“Great communication skills Spence. Really, I’m impressed.” You rolled your eyes and finally started to unpack your bag, “I came because I was worried about what you’d do here all alone.”

Part of me was happy you were worried, but a bigger part was annoyed, “I’ve been handling being alone fine, thanks.”

You scoffed, “Yeah. That’s why you need Derek to bring you food everyday, because you’re doing so well.”

I bit my tongue and tried to speak calmly, “Well at least someone checks on me everyday.”

That shut you right up.

The three days you were there went as follows: we slept as far apart from each other as we could, despite how badly I wanted to cuddle into your arms. We’d get up in silence, eat breakfast in silence, walk to the beach and read in silence, eat lunch and dinner in silence, and each night we’d yell at each other until we fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed.

Remember what I said to trigger the fight on December third, your last day there? How could you forget? It’s the fight that broke us up. 

“So, I was thinking of going to a counselor,” I said, staring at the waves lap the sand from the balcony of our room. The air felt cold for eighty degrees. But maybe that was just because the air between me and you had been cold for weeks. 

You were sitting next to me, but I could tell you were worlds away. 

“Spence,” I nudged, trying to snap you out of your daydream. 

“Hm? What?”

“I said I’m going to go to a counselor.”

You twisted your face, “A counselor? What for?”

I shrugged, “I-I think it’d be good for me. It’s a grief counselor.”

You turned to look at me, your brow covered in sweat and your eyes watery. You were incessantly bouncing your left leg, rubbing at your nose, and you seemed disinterested in every single thing I was saying or doing. In fact, you’d been acting that way since the first day you disappeared to your apartment. 

“Counselor? Yeah,” You were fidgeting, barely making eye contact. 

A feeling I can only describe as pure dread formed in my stomach. I thought I might puke, but I swallowed the feeling and kept talking, “I got a recommendation from Hotch. He said he went to Dr. Stevens after Haley died. He said it really helped.”

You were still not listening. 

“I think it’d be good if we went together.”

That finally got your undivided attention. “Together?” You snapped, “No.”

“Why not?” I said it with an air of exhaustion and despair. I was tired of this. So fucking tired of it. 

“I’m not going to a damn therapist, Y/N,” You seethed, your metal deck chair scraping against the concrete as you stood in front of me. 

The sky looked stormy, palm trees whipping in the wind as you came before me. The bags under your eyes looked like bruises, and you had on sleeves. It was eighty and you had on sleeves.

“Okay, I’ll go alone then. I think he could really help us though.”

I was giving up on fighting. I didn’t understand how when I was at my absolute low you could just keep kicking me while I was down. All I wanted was for you to go to someone and talk about it. That’s it. You were acting like I’d asked you to move a mountain for me, which, might I add, at one point you would have done. 

“He? You really think a male therapist is going to help? You lost a baby, Y/N—“

“WE,” I clarified, for what felt like the fiftieth time, “We lost a baby.”

You rolled your eyes and ignored me, “You lost a baby. How does a male therapist help you through that?”

I was angry now. It was bubbling up to the top and I thought I might explode. 

“He’s a grief counselor! He’ll help me through my GRIEF! And I think you should go because clearly you have a lot going on. You always have! You should’ve been seeing someone for years.”

“Oh, I have a lot going on?” You sneered, “Of course I have a lot going on! I go to work everyday to bring you home a paycheck so you can sit around all day and do nothing.”

I stood up, got close to your face, “I’m on leave.”

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that.”

You bypassed me and went inside, and my hot anger turned into wet anger and fat tears were rolling down my cheeks.

“Do you know how traumatic this was on my body? Do you? Everything hurts and you were supposed to be there! You were supposed to take four weeks off too! You were supposed to be there for me!”

“Yeah and who’s there for me!” You yelled, louder than I think you ever had; at me at least. You had thrown your suitcase on the bed, haphazardly grabbing your clothes from the drawers and shoving them in. 

“I would’ve been,” I said softly, coming up behind you to grab your arm lightly, “If you had let me.”

You pulled back, “Don’t touch me!”

I reached up to wipe my eyes and crossed my arms in front of myself defensively, “I want to be there for you, Spencer. I do. Why won’t you let me?”

You didn’t answer, because even you didn’t know why. You just stood over the suitcase, one arm on either side of it, hair matted to your sweaty face, panting and panting. 

The facts I had chosen to ignore were staring me in the face again. Or maybe I was just that oblivious. 

“I’ve never seen you like this. This isn’t you, Love,” I tried to say in my most soothing voice. The dread had clawed its way back up to the back of my throat. 

“Or maybe this is me,” you said softly, and I swear you were crying. Or maybe I hoped you were, that way we were both sobbing. That’s as close to togetherness as we could get. 

“Maybe this is who I am now, or who I’ve been all along.”

I reached out for you again, but stopped myself, “No, Spencer. The real you isn’t this angry, and bitter, and mean.”

You slammed your hands against the bed, “Yes it is!”

“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?” I said sadly, shaky breaths between words, “Is that what you’ve been going to your apartment and doing?”

You turned around, skin sweaty and eyes red, “What? What are you talking about now? God, do you ever stop talking?”

I snapped, ignoring your last jab there, “Are you using?”

Your face contorted into a sour expression, “Am I using?”

“Yeah, Spencer! Are you? Because I can’t see any other reason for why you’re so irritable and sweaty and out of it! So I’ll ask you again, are you going through withdrawal?”

You looked like I had literally punched you in the gut, and I kind of had. It was a low blow, I’ll admit it, but I was seriously worried about you. If an event would trigger you, this would’ve been it. 

“What? No!”

I wasn’t sure whether or not I should believe you, but I knew I had to support you either way. I love you, even when you’re angry at me, I still love you. Even when you throw clothes and seethe at me through gritted teeth, I still love you. That’s my fatal flaw. No matter how many reasons you give me to stop loving you, I never will.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, lower lip pinched between his teeth. Was he really that terrible? He didn’t remember being so spiteful. Reading it back, he understood why you thought he was high, and he had thought about it more than he cared to admit. But he hadn’t touched the stuff in seven years, and he wasn’t about to start again now.

‘No matter how many reasons you give me to stop loving you, I never will.’ 

That line made him want to cry, hands clenching the ring box as if it were a stress ball. That line simultaneously felt like a stab in the gut and a breath of fresh air. He had given you so many reasons to walk away, and the one reason to stay was there in his palm, unused.

““It’s okay if you are. I understand this is a... hard time. I’ll support you through this,” I put my hands out to touch your chest. 

“I’m not high and haven’t been in years!” You swatted my hands down. 

“Then what the hell is going on!?” 

“I’m angry and I’m sad and I’m heartbroken!” You yelled, going back out onto the balcony to stand in the rain that had started pouring down in sheets. 

“Spencer! Stop!” I followed you out, tears mixing with rain to the point that I didn’t know which was which. 

“I’m just confused! It’s hard to see the point in all this anymore. Maybe it’s just not worth it,” You said, yelling at the ocean not at me. Rain soaked our clothes instantly. Part of me was hoping this scene would end like the ‘notebook’ we’d kiss and you’d spin me around. I guess this is kind of like the notebook, it’s a story to help you remember us. Except you don’t have Alzheimer’s and I wrote 15 letters, not 365. 

“Maybe what’s not worth it?” I was yelling too, just so you could hear me over the sound of the wind and the rain. 

“This!” You gestured between us. I felt like you knocked the air out of me, my whole body stinging. 

“But I love you!”

“All of this has made me realize that love isn’t everything! I love you too but we need more than that!”

That was the first time I’d heard you say ‘I love you’ in a month, but it was a double edged sword. I bit my lip so hard I think I started bleeding, “Love isn’t enough? Are you kidding me, Spencer?”

You swallowed thickly, “No! I’m not kidding. I’ve never been more serious!”

“So what? That’s it?” I said it quietly, but I wanted to scream at you. I wanted to scream that you were being an idiot. You were being ridiculous. You were being unnecessarily cruel. But I didn’t. I was tired and water logged. I had finally given up.

You ran your hands through your hair, “No–it’s–we we aren’t over Y/N. I’m just saying that it’s gonna take more than love to fix us.”

“Well maybe if you were ever home, we could actually try. But you aren’t. You’re always gone! So explain to me how we’re going to fix this. What’s it gonna take Spencer? What do you want from me?”

You took a deep breath, uttering words I was so sick of hearing, “We need space and time.”

“Space? Time? It’s been a month Spencer! I let you go to work. I let you spend every day at your damn apartment. I stopped calling. I stopped checking in. How much more space and time do you want?”

“Thirty-four days,” you mumbled, just so I could barely hear. The thunder rolled, mostly drowning it out. 

“What was that?” 

“It’s been THIRTY-FOUR days, Y/N. Thirty-four. I don’t know how you expect me to be okay after only thirty-four days.”

“I don’t expect you to be fine! I expect you to speak to me! To look at me! I want to go to bed crying and have you there next to me. I want to be there for you when you’re crying. The only way we get better is if we do this TOGETHER!”

The anger looked like it melted off of you, and I took that as my opportunity to approach. I threw my arms around your soaked body as you shook with sobs into my shoulder. I held you like my life depended on it, because in a way it did. You wrapped your arms around me too, and everything felt okay. We were standing in the pouring rain, holding each other as we cried, and somehow I felt more okay than I had in the thirty-four days prior. It felt like maybe you were coming back to me. 

You weren’t. 

We stood like that for what felt like hours, and eventually I pulled you inside. I wish I didn’t. I wish we stayed there, holding each other in the rain until the sun came up and dried us off. I foolishly thought the rain washed our sins away. 

“It’s going to be okay,” I said, my head on your shoulder as we wrapped ourselves in towels, “I promise.”

You shrugged me off of you, going back to packing your bag. 

“Spencer, stop packing, please,” I begged, grabbing the items you were putting in and taking them back out. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you said plainly, taking a shirt and putting it back in. 

“I-I thought—“

“Thought what, Y/N? That because I cried to you and told you I loved you that we were magically okay?” 

I stammered, “No. No! But I thought it meant we were in this together now.” 

“You just accused me of relapsing an hour ago.”

“And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but that’s not a reason you should go,” I pleaded, reaching for you again. I thought if you walked away I’d never see you again.

“You don’t trust me,” your voice cracked. 

“No, Love, I—“

“Don’t call me that.”

The pain in my chest bloomed, sending a wave of heartache through my entire body. A heartache I still haven’t been able to shake. It’s still there. Some days it's a thunder crack and sometimes it's a low grumble, but it’s always there. The rain hasn't stopped.  

I hadn’t even realized that you were completely packed until you zipped the suitcase shut. 

“You’re really leaving?” 

You stopped at the door, hand on the handle, to turn and face me. I didn’t need to use my profiling skills to see how much pain you were in, and my pain doubled at the sight. I’ve always been an empath when it comes to you, feeling what you feel like it’s my own. 

“I am.”

I crossed the room and threw my arms around you, sobbing into your chest. To my surprise, you wrapped your arms around me lightly. 

“I understand,” I said, looking into your eyes, “We can’t be there for each other the way we need to.”

You nodded into my shoulder, “Stay. When you get home from this we’ll talk. I just need a few more days.”

I shook my head, finally coming to the realization that we didn’t work anymore. We weren’t healthy anymore. 

“Don’t bother. The writing’s on the wall, Spence,” my voice wavered, and I regretted every word as they left my mouth, “I’ve been waiting for that person from the hospital to come home to me. I’ve been waiting for the Spencer who lends me his shirts and fact dumps and eats IHOP and ice cream with me to come home.”

I felt your breath stop under my arms, “But that Spencer, the Spencer I love, isn’t here anymore. We need to be alone.”

I felt you shake with tears under me, and that triggered mine, “We have to break up.”

I wish I never said it. I wish I gave you those few days, but we both know those few days would’ve turned into weeks and months and we would’ve ended up here anyway. I wish you didn’t let me say them. I wish you kissed me to shut me up and told me I was being stupid. I wish I didn’t watch you go down that elevator, tears on your cheeks. I wish I didn’t spend the other four days in an empty king sized bed, crying for you. 

I realize now that you changed. I did too. Instead of wishing for the old you, I should’ve learned to love the new you. I think I would’ve, if I had given it a chance. Actually, I know I would’ve. I think I’d fall in love with every version of you that could ever exist or has ever existed. You and I, we’re meant to be together. 

I know you probably don’t believe in it, but I like to think that we’re twin flames; we’re two halves of one soul that somehow ended up in two bodies and constantly pull to find each other again. I’ve read a lot about them recently. Twin flames don’t necessarily end up together. They can even just be two people with an intense friendship. They’re people who help each other grow, even if that means they’re only in your life for a short time. I like to think that we are that case, and that in some parallel universe I’m with you and we have our daughter and we’re happy. I just wish that I was in that universe now. 

I know it’s for the best that we went to the damn Crystal Cove and broke up. I’m sure someday in the future I’ll be pleased with that decision, but for now, I still regret it.”

Spencer stared at the notepad, eyes flicking between that in his left hand and the ring box in his right. He took the ring out and admired it in the light. It glinted and glimmered, delicately refracting light onto the cabinets. He slid it halfway down his ring finger because that’s as far as it would go. He imagined it was on your slender, perfectly manicured hand instead of his, but an ache formed where his heart was when he realized it’d never end up here. 

Spencer grabbed the notebook. It was unlined and the paper felt flimsy and thin. He got up from the floor to find a pencil in the drawer the ring had been hidden in, and took it out to scrawl his own letter to go with his own memento. A sixteenth letter for a sixteenth item you had no idea even existed. 

“Y/N,

I’d like to consider this letter sixteen, to go with the engagement ring that’s in my palm. I bought this ring the day after we ate dinner at Rossi’s and showed everyone tiny FBI onesies. I have your perfect ring here in my hand, a plain silver band with a lab-grown diamond in a four-prong setting in the center, just like you told Garcia you wanted. I should’ve given it to you the day I bought it, but I waited until the perfect opportunity presented itself. 

What you didn’t know about the trip to the Crystal Cove was that I was going to propose to you there. I was going to get down on one knee in the sand at sunset after dinner. I even had a whole speech planned. I was going to tell you that I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you, or that anyone would ever love me the way that you do. I was going to say that it amazes me how everyday, I wake up and love you more than I did the night before. And everyday I think it’s be impossible to love you and our daughter more than I do right now. I wanted to tell you that I want to wake up every morning and feel that for the rest of my life. I want the good, the bad, the ugly, I want it all. I want Korean film festivals and IHOP breakfasts and to talk to the moon. I want tubs of ice cream and overly sentimental flowers hanging from the wall. Most of all I wanted to say that I want to spend every day of my life making you happy. 

That speech still applies today. I still love you enough to ask you, but I don’t think you love me enough to say yes. 

It’s okay. It really is. I haven’t decided what to do yet, but if you do read this, just know that it’s okay. I promise you, it’s okay. I’m not the bitter, angry man I was at the Crystal Cove anymore. I changed again, and I hope you’re right. I hope we are twin flames and your soul will come looking for mine, and I hope it happens in this universe, not the infinite parallels that may or may not exist. I miss you and I want nothing more than for you to come back. Come home, Love, please come home.

-SR”

He stared at the notebook page, before tearing it off and folding it in half, placing it in his pocket for safekeeping. He went on his computer and bought the cheapest one-way ticket to Seattle that he could find. He needed to see you. He needed you to see this letter, see this ring. He needed to make this right.

The flight was a red eye, leaving at midnight, so he’d get to the Seattle field office by eight. He looked at the leather watch and saw that it was nearly nine. He decided had to finish, and he had to finish now, as he grabbed letter #14. 

PART 14

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

Taglist!

@l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings @ajwantsapancake @andiebeaword @boiled-onionrings @frnks-stuff @icantevenanymore1 @mellifluouswildbluebells @rottenearly @sammypotato67 @blushingwueen @peaxhyjaes @justanotherfangurlz @juniorgman187 @mbowles23-blog @blameitonthenight21 @goldentournesol @rainsong01 @thelifeofadumbbitch @swimmingtrashwobblersludge @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @eldahae

[tickle-bugs]

I had two people ask for some advice on starting up/running a blog, so I thought I’d make a little post for anyone else looking for advice! There’s no one right way to run a blog and I am by no means an expert. This is just a compilation of some of the things I’ve learned :) 

Feel free to add advice to this!

- The first thing is something I cannot stress enough. Write for yourself first. You will be absolutely miserable if you’re only writing for attention. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s so incredibly important. If you don’t like a prompt, fandom, or scenario? You don’t have to write for it! A personal example: I’m a theatre kid and total musical nerd. I could probably write some compelling Dear Evan Hansen or Hamilton headcanons if I wanted to, but I don’t. That’s fine! I’m allowed to say I won’t write for it and deny prompts/requests for those fandoms. 

- Set boundaries. This is a very mixed community with all sorts of creators and participants with hands in different baskets. Don’t want minors to interact? Put minors DNI in your bio. SFW only? Put it in the bio. No RP? Bio. This goes for private conversations/askbox/other interactions as well. If someone comes into your askbox/dms and says something that makes you uncomfy, shut it down. 

- My advice is more geared towards writing than art or video, but I suppose you could apply this advice as well. Make what makes you happy! If you’re only in one fandom, feel free to stay there and make content for it. Multi-fandom? Excellent! Completely non-fandom? Epic! Make the content that you want to see and the content that makes you happy to create, especially if you’re in a more niche fandom/area. 

- Organization. ...I’ll admit this one is more of a personal pet peeve than something urgent, but it is something that people positively respond to. If you have some sort of consistency/organization to your blog, it’ll make it easier and more enjoyable for people to navigate. Make a fandom list/indicate your fandoms somehow (mostly for prompt purposes. people can’t read your mind, so it’s important to tell them what you will write for and what you won’t, however you want to do that)! 

Make a masterpost/link your fic tag! Use a fic tag of some kind. Give your fics summaries and leave a little bit of the fic above the ‘read more’ to intrigue folks (look at #my fics and my masterpost for basic examples of how I do this, if you need!). Use read mores. Please use read mores (if you can, idk if they’re on mobile. regardless no one wants to encounter a three thousand word block of text on their dash). (No seriously though, organize your blog, even if it’s super simple. literally just a ‘mine’ or ‘my fics’ or ‘[pseud] writes’ and a fandom tag. It’ll make it easier for people to find your stuff and support you)

- Practice general internetiquette. Please remember that the people in this community are real people with feelings, boundaries, and lives outside of the blog that they run. Be genuine and people will respond to you! Don’t manipulate people into likes/reblogs/attention. No one wants to be on the other end of that. Being in this community isn’t a transaction or a mosh pit, it’s an experience.  

- Be ever-so-liberal with the block button. Someone’s user makes you uncomfortable? They give you bad vibes? They’re a minor/older than you and you don’t want them interacting with your content? You don’t wanna see their blog for some reason? Block em. This goes for anons too. That’s what the button is for. Don’t feel guilty for using it. Use it. 

- How you write is 100% a personal choice and not really something that I can give advice on, but embrace your style! take prompts if you want, or don’t. Write oneshots, series, drabbles, or novels. Write romantic, or don’t. Etc. Change things up if you feel like it. Do what you want. Your blog, your style, your rules. 

- Numbers matter. Don’t let them define you. This is a bit of a harder one to explain, but I will try. I often say that I don’t care about numbers, and I really don’t, but that’s not to say that I don’t see them and they have zero effect on me. I absolutely notice and am bummed if a fic doesn’t get notes, or at least the notes that I was expecting. That is entirely normal and okay to experience. What isn’t okay, though, is creating for the sake of getting notes/numbers/attention (re: write for yourself first, internetiquette). If you find yourself relying on tumblr for gratification and a reward, I implore you to take a break. I’m not your therapist or your parent, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but when you make things only for the sake of notes, people notice. Celebrate your milestones. Know that it’s okay to be bummed about low notes/celebrate getting plenty. Just make sure that you don’t depend on the numbers for your happiness, or you will be miserable.

- You’re (probably) doing this for free. You are providing people content: a service. Produce as much or as little as you’re comfy with, but always remember that. No one is entitled to what you make. If someone asks you for headcanons, sends a prompt when prompts are closed, etc, and you don’t feel like fulfilling it? You have no obligation to do that. Getting commissioned is another story entirely, but as long as you’re making free content, you have zero obligation to do anything for anyone and certainly no time constraints. It can take me months to finish prompts, and that’s okay. I do them when I do them and I fill them how I want to. If my prompts are closed, I deny new ones until I’m ready to accept them. Make yourself happy first.

- How you interact with others is up to you! It’s generally considered good practice to like/reblog your mutuals fics/art, but this is not necessarily a hard and fast rule. I veeeeeery rarely reblog fics for fandoms that I’m not in, even from my mutuals. What you can do to show your support (and you should try and show support somehow. No one is in competition. Everyone’s in your boat, whether they have no followers or 1k) is send an ask/reply to the post/leave tags to let the author know you liked it. Like the fic and don’t reblog it, if you don’t want to. Just make sure you show your mutuals (and others in general!) roughly the same support they show you, however you decide to do that. Treat others how you want to be treated, as cheesy as it sounds :)

- Don’t repost content that isn’t yours without express permission from the original creator, and credit them appropriately. If you see a cute piece of tickle art and the artist doesn’t want it reposted? Don’t repost it. Don’t post fics/videos/gifs that aren’t yours (obviously if it’s like a scene from a movie/a clip on youtube that’s different, but don’t take credit for things you didn’t make, including ideas). Can’t tell you how frustrating it is to have work stolen from you. Don’t be that person. ‘Credit to original artist’ and ‘credit unknown’ is total bullshit btw. Link/tag the creator in the original post and make it clear you don’t own the content. Best practice is to ask the original creator if they’re okay with reposting, work inspired by or connected to theirs, etc. This goes doubly for saving/downloading someone’s fics. 

- It is not illegal for a minor to have normal, nonsexual, healthy friendships with people older than them. There’s a weird attitude that minors have nothing of value to offer adults besides a relationship/sex, which is...not true? Minors are thinking, living human beings with feelings, thoughts, and opinions. You can talk to them like normal people, because they are. Just obviously don’t talk about/introduce sex or endanger them. Minors don’t bring up sex/activities you’re underage for with an adult. IDK this isn’t a seminar just...don’t be weird. Adults can offer great life experience, support systems, and the basic joys and needs of human connection. Minors can too. Mind your business unless someone’s actually in danger. The next point is a caveat, though: 

- If you’re a minor, don’t interact with NSFW blogs/blogs with ‘Minors DNI’, NSFW blogs don’t interact with minors, etc etc. Not your parent or whatever but this is pretty common sense and it’s for everyone’s safety, but especially the NSFW person. internettiquette!

- If you use your TK blog as a side blog (meaning you have another blog as your main blog, not two separate accounts) and don’t want your main exposed, that is up to you. I recommend not liking posts. Also, follow people that you trust. These actions route through your main blog and your main will show up in the notes. You can reblog from a sideblog. If you want to send an ask “as your tk blog”, send an anon and sign it somehow, like ‘hey :) // @/tickle-bugs’. It should tag you in the post so you get a notification when it’s answered!

- Find your people! As an anxious person this one has been hard for me, so I know it’s hard for a lot of people. Fandom is literally a community of shared interest. Peachy and I have an iron bond almost two years later and we met talking over shared interests. You can absolutely find your people here. If someone makes you happy, strike up a conversation! Send an ask! You never know what doors it might open or whose day you might improve :)

- If you were an anon/lurker on someone’s blog and they inspired you to write/submit/start your own, sign your messages!! the common form that I see is either an emoji or [noun/context of the ask]!anon (prodigal!anon (i miss u every day), butterfly!anon, etc.) Let us know how to find and support you!! Those messages produce good brain juice. 

- The big finale: Have fun. If you’re not having fun here, maybe you could tweak something to make things enjoyable. Running a blog is like driving a car. Keep your hands on the wheel, respectfully indicate your intentions (flashing lights optional), and be safe. Poebody’s nerfect, y’know. If you make a mistake, course correct. I’m by no means perfect. Your favs aren’t either. Just do your best and have a good time :)

@rosytickles and the anon in my inbox, I hope this helps! Thank you for asking me, I’m very honored that you value my opinon/experience/advice. I apologize if I come off as preachy or aggressive, I envisioned grabbing my younger self by the lapels and shaking me vigorously while I wrote this. Probably a bad idea. 

Anywho, hope it helps. Anyone with questions, additions, or comments, my askbox is open! Just be constructive, is all I ask. 

[sakurashell]

To read before navigating this blog!

Premise: this blog used to be exclusively about fanfics, which I don’t do a lot anymore. If I do write, stories might be mainly about girls (lol) or I might decide to continue unfinished series I had already started. You can find my old works on here and on ao3. I know it’s boring, but be mindful of my rules before following this blog.

Regarding my inbox:

First and foremost, be kind and respectful.

I only interact with anyone who’s older than 17+. I’m an adult and interacting with teens makes me uncomfortable.

Don’t ask for more information about me than the ones I gave you already on my about me post.

Don’t use pet names with me, please. Just call me Nat.

The anon option won’t be available all the time. I want people to take responsibility for what they write, how they talk to others, and I want to be able to block anyone who might make me uneasy. Don’t be scared, I don’t care if your blog is empty or you think it’s boring and chaotic, I promise you’re cooler than you think and i also won’t stalk anyone.

You can talk to me about anything you can find on this blog, your day or things you want an advice for. Look at my about me post for reference. No venting though, please.

Don’t bring discourse here, unless I do it first. Politics is a big part of my everyday life, however I don’t like trying to educate people who don’t want to learn. I can’t teach morals to those who are lacking. It’s your responsibility to get informed.

As for the previous point, I don’t accept anyone whose views are racist, homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic, antisemitic, islamophobic, fascist or anything of the sort. No body-shaming or forcing of religious views is allowed either. I hate white-supremacists, white feminism and oppression of any kind. I believe in the people being free. I think that makes it clear as to what I stand for as a person.

Some basic guidelines for my content:

Everything is 18+. There’s nsfw and dark content, please respect that. If you do read, cause I can’t stop you, don’t interact with it.

Don’t ask for part twos or updates, there won’t be any. At most, I might decide to finish the Killshot series eventually.

I don’t take criticism. It’s a hobby and I don’t get paid to leave my works here for free. Read what you like, ignore what you dislike.

Your triggers are not my responsibility, please read all the tags and be careful of what might make you uncomfortable.

I don’t allow my works to be shared on any other platform. If you ever see my content being shared on tiktok, please tell me.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

TUA MEAN GIRLS AU

(please understand that by AU, I mean they share an incredibly small amount of things in common with the original source material which I barely remember BUT the “story” takes place in the setting of the film) (not to be misleading or anything :p)

(BEWARE: abuse, bribery, immoral deals, bullying, homophobia, outing, transphobia, violence, abortion, teen pregnancy, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy, this will be fine for you.)

(Regina) Five is the king of this school, and he has no plans to give up that position. He needs it to protect his people, as few and far between as they are, and himself, if he’s honest - he’s a trans and ace-aro kid in platonic love with the health class mannequin who he calls Dolores. Ruling with fear is basically all he can do. While he’s mean, you’ll soon realize that everything he says is more of a blunt observation that will improve your life if you just heed his advice. He doesn’t respect almost anybody - not the jocks, theatre geeks, nerds, cheerleaders, band kids - no one. However, if he does respect you, you have his trust and protection. And as a thirteen-year-old genius who only takes advice from always-slightly-drunk art teacher Agnes, his protection is pretty damn valuable: the last person who tried to hurt one of his people will never walk again. Leonard Peabody - he assaulted Vanya, and he paid. Five beat him to the point of hospitalization without getting a single speck of blood or bruise on himself, and Leonard’s the one who walked away in handcuffs. Do not fuck with any of Five’s people, or you have to fuck with Five. And you do not want to fuck with Five.

(Gretchen) Vanya is quiet and subdued, to the point where people question how she’s a part of the school’s most popular trio. If you talk to her for long enough though, it becomes clear: she knows any and everybody’s secrets. She writes for the school paper, and is known to write the stories her subjects don’t want anyone else to find out about. Like Diego, who she outed as bisexual last year to throw people off the trail of her own secret relationship with Sissy, earning her an ex-girlfriend and an ex-friend. She’s been trying to win Diego’s forgiveness ever since, but he won’t talk to her, returning every single one of her letters and gifts. (He’s blocked her number and all of her socials, which she only created to talk to him anyway.) She doesn’t know why Five keeps her around - Klaus loves to gossip, but Five never seems to want any of her secrets. She’s pleasantly surprised to find out that he apparently actually enjoys her company. (What?)

(Karen) Klaus is a fucking mess. He plays the dumb blonde (well, brunette) despite being a genius in his own right, even if he’s not at Five’s level. (To be fair, he’s pretty sure no one is.) He’s a drag queen on the weekends, a hangover from his time in the mafia gang, which he joined with his boyfriend Dave for six months after running away from home. Dave died in a gunfight, and Klaus has been fucked up (well, more than usual) ever since. Anorexia, PTSD, anxiety, depression, self-harm, suicidal ideation, the works. But as lonely as he is, addicted to a fuckton of hard drugs and liquors to cope, he’s still an alluring, aloof, and bubbly popular girl, wearing pink skirts and glittery heels and leather corset crop tops to school every day. No matter how much his father Reginald beats him for it, he keeps being himself, because he’s brave and because even if Reginald hates him, someone far more important loves him… Diego. Diego, who Klaus has kissed under a million stars and in the lollipop shop down the road and on top of a cafeteria table. Diego, who Klaus has chased through the rain and into the street without rest or hesitation. Diego, whose words and promises and scribbles are immortalized on Klaus’ skin for all to see. Diego, who Klaus will love no matter how much bigotry they encounter or dickwads they’re beat up by or miles they put between them. Diego, Klaus’ ex-boyfriend.

(Cady) Allison is the new girl, and she has plans for the advantage being underestimated has brought her. She challenges Five on her first day there, earning his respect, and joins his group at the urgings of Klaus and Vanya, who like her company. A fashion queen, she acts as though she’s unfazed by any and everything, but nobody knows her true heartbreak - she still writes letters to a girl back home. Allison was expelled from her Christian private school for falling in love with a girl named Natalie, who she kissed in janitors’ closets and who she beat up racist and homophobic blondes for. She has no tolerance for bullies, and yet becomes one under Five’s guidance - until she upends his reign as queen bee and signs her death warrant. (Though she later finds out he was more angry at her for stealing Klaus and Vanya’s affection than his popularity.) Now her only hope for happiness in her final days is Ray, the Shakespeare-quoting nerd in her English class… or Luther, the quiet dork in the Star Trek t-shirts in her math class. Fuck, she misses Natalie.

(Aaron) Luther is the posterboard for toxic masculinity. He’s on the football team but hates it, preferring his math tutoring and fantasy books to tackling drills. His bisexuality is his deepest secret - he once slept with Diego when they were drunk at a party after a football game, and he can’t get it out of his head. He keeps thinking about what might happen if somebody found out - would he be shunned like Diego? Trapped like Vanya? Plastic like Klaus? He doesn’t know. All he can do is continue to be kind and hope Allison loves him enough to love every part of him, beyond his good lucks and British accent and fucking Ray. So Luther stands up to Five, and pays the price. He compliments Klaus on his skirts, and pays the price. (Diego seems to simultaneously love and hate him for it, it’s confusing.) He holds the door open for Ben, and pays the price. He’s big enough to be scary, kind enough to be overlooked - but after that incident with Vanya, everyone looks at him like he’s a monster to be locked up. And soon enough, “star student” Luther, “teacher’s pet” Luther, “completely under the principal’s thumb and completely friendless and completely terrified of the world around him” Luther might just break under all that pressure.

(Janis) Diego is the school’s resident outcast and rebel punk - he wears skirts and fishnets and whatever the fuck he wants because if Klaus taught him anything when they were dating it was that gender is a construct and he looks hot in leather. They broke up when Diego was outed and Klaus chose to stay quiet when people started shunning Diego for it, but despite it all, Diego still loves him. He misses when they used to paint their nails together, because he has to paint his own now. They used to stare up at the stars together and fall asleep in the grass, curled up in each other, on the nights that Klaus would run away in terror from his dad and Diego would breathe with him and let him press his hand against his heart until Klaus’ panic died down. His heart still flutters when he sees Klaus smile around a lollipop… but he won’t take him back. He won’t. He just can’t forgive him. So instead, he talks to his mom about everything. He plays soccer with his sister Eudora. He paints shit while smoking weed with his best friend Lila. He thinks of Luther being scared of him and laughs. You know, he was almost in Allison’s position freshman year - Five loved him, and so did Klaus and Vanya, but then Vanya outed him to the whole school for no reason like a day before he and Klaus were going to come out together. And now they’re all estranged, and Diego has the strangest feeling that he’s lost his family, even though his mom is the only real family he’s ever known. But maybe he’s wrong. Because Klaus keeps sending him “anonymous” letters, leaving them on the porch and spilling secrets Diego never even would’ve imagined him having. But forgiveness is still a question - that is, until one day Diego gets a letter in a different handwriting: Five’s, telling him to man the fuck up and love Klaus before he kills himself trying to tear the stars down for Diego’s own personal pleasure, and suddenly, Diego is crying on his porch in the rain, missing a slender, sassy skeleton in his arms and a pink, bruised but unbroken heart in his chest.

(Damien) Ben is everyone’s favorite, and the kindest person in the world. He used to be Klaus’ best friend, but that ended when Ben got into an accident (there was a bus involved, that’s all you need to know) that landed him in a wheelchair and Klaus couldn’t deal with the mental pain it caused him. They still stare at each other longingly from across the cafeteria, but never say a word to each other, not even in class. But beyond Klaus, Ben has never had any friends, though he has a million aquaintances: he’s the only student in the school that everyone loves and respects. Five holds the door for him, though Ben can tell without having to ask that Five would rather nobody know that. He hangs out with Diego because he knows Diego’s lonely, even if he never wants to admit it. He advises Allison not to let anyone control her, telling her he knows Natalie from summer camp and that the deaf girl still loves her and reads every single one of her letters. He gives Vanya his lunch when she skips to cry in the gym after Diego yells at her, even though a part of him might think she deserves it sometimes. He plays sports with Luther after school and offers him an ear and some jokes about his problems, and a few touchdowns when he’s feeling good. He acts as Ray’s student consultant, because he knows how hard Ray works to treat him like an equal. He tutors Eudora in basically everything, but cuts study sessions short to play video games when he can tell she’s too stressed to think. He’s ace and pan and proud about it; he runs the school’s GSA; he defends Diego and uses the right pronouns for Lila when they’re alone without Lila ever having to him he’s trans. He bugs Reginald’s office in one of their many meetings and records enough conversations to get him fired when he tries to expel Five. And finally, karma rewards him - Klaus shows up at his house with a box of brownies he baked himself, all covered in smiley faces, and shoves them into Ben’s hands, shaking his head when Ben assumes they’re for Diego. I miss you, Klaus tells him, and Ben tugs him down into a kiss, pulling away with a stammered apology. I’m sorry, he blushes, and Klaus beams, leaping into his lap and hugging him closer than ever, the two of them queerplatonic partners from then on, forever linked by their fingers in the hallway. Happy. Finally.

Lila is the shy artsy kid who carries around one of those leather brown satchels that looks threatening but is really just code for “I think I’m too cool for a backpack so I stuff all my incorrect homework and favorite comic books into this sack of knockoff pig skin instead”. He’s covered in paint most of the time, and wears Alice in Wonderland combat boots and Sharpie-doodle-covered jeans and big black hoodies and soft grey beanies; he’s trans and hacked off his own hair until an undercut with choppy slash bangs and there’s pink streaks in them, of course, to match the bubblegum he’s always chewing. His nails are bitten and black, and his skin is decorated with tattoos that are almost exclusively Bo Burnham quotes, with the exception of Diego’s name right over his heart. (Diego has Lila’s name over his too - and Klaus’ and Eudora’s, though he’d never tell them that.) He gives his skirts to Klaus and gets along well enough with Five, them both being trans and all, and everyone else knows him as that kid who’ll spread rumors and steal things for bribes. It’s not like he can get in more trouble than he’s already in - he lives with his bigoted and abusive bitch of a mom. But Diego is his best friend - the one he shoots and stabs things with, the one whose ex-boyfriend he talks to because Diego will never admit to himself that he misses Klaus like he would his own lungs if they were torn from his chest, the one whose sister he’s in love with. Wait. Fuck. Oops.

Eudora is Diego’s sister, and the captain of the soccer team. She wears her red jersey with the white numbers to school every day, and is covered in tattoos of magical creatures, because she believes in all of them. She wishes she was a werewolf, and has dressed up as one every year for Halloween since she was ten. (And she’s let anyone dressed a werewolf give her a hickey just in case that turned her. It’s good to have all your bases covered.) She has a broken down pick-up truck named Travis-Trevor-Thomas-literally-any-other-T-name that she loves beyond belief, and drives Diego to and from school in it, though he grumbles about it every day. She eats lunch with him even though he insists he’s fine eating alone and wants her to go away, because she knows he’s lying, and she hangs around the GSA with him sometimes too. She’s lab partners with her brother’s “secret” ex-boyfriend, and is concerned by how quiet he is - she’s seen enough documetaries to know that quiet never means anything good. But unfortunately, she has her own academic drama to deal with - Hazel and Cha-Cha hate her for helping Klaus, and she hates them right back, leading to failing grades in both English and history no matter how brilliant her work is. Mostly, though, Eudora tries to get to know Lila - the pretty, angry, sarcastic emo boy she shares half her classes with, and flirts with every day despite how he ignores her. (ONLY because Lila still smiles and laughs every time she flirts with him, and Eudora knows from Diego that Lila thinks Eudora only flirts with him because it’s some sort of game of “if you get the guy who’s hard to get you win the hundred dollar bet” deal. Otherwise she would’ve backed off immediately because not doing so would be harassment.) Eventually, though, Eudora runs off-field in the middle of a soccer game and over to the stands to ask Lila to prom. Finally, she gets a yes - and, most importantly, a real smile, curled against her own mouth like a Cupid’s bow of promise.

Sissy is Vanya’s ex-girlfriend, and Fuckwad Carl’s current girlfriend. She hooked up with him after breaking up with Vanya, too drunk to even speak, and now her belly’s ballooning and her parents are gonna kick her out unless she marries him like a good Christian woman. And she really didn’t expect herself to tell them to fuck off for this one, but apparently lesbianism makes you do crazy things - so here she is, standing on Ray’s porch in the pouring rain and hoping for the best. She’s depressed and shows that by reading the Bronte sisters; Klaus opens the door for her and brings her notes with doodles all over them which makes her cry; she misses Vanya but hates her for what she did to Diego. And yet Vanya’s there when she goes to the abortion clinic, smiling and joking and holding her hand like always. One day she’ll have a baby and she and Vanya will raise it right, but fuck - that baby sure as hell won’t be Carl’s. (Because fuck that guy.)

Ray is a humanitarian, so, naturally, he’s also the student council president. Five has never mistreated him, because everyone loves and respects Ray, even his critics. He nurtures Allison’s intelligence and encourages Vanya’s musical habits. He tutors Klaus in basically every subject but never talks down to him because he knows the kid’s a genius, just a bit spacey from all the drugs (and the ADHD, let’s be honest). He helps bring Luther out of his shell and takes Lila out shopping for boy clothes, all of which he pays for himself. He’s not scared or offended by Diego’s sarcasm or intensity, instead greeting him every day in class with a new dad joke. He treats Ben to intelligent conversation like an equal and doesn’t let Five be so harsh he’ll regret it later, though he still lets him say what he means and be himself. Everybody knows he’ll be the real President one day - even if for now he wears pajamas to school every day because, in his words, “Clothes are just too much fuckin’ work, man.” (There’s a possibility he may have still been high from hanging out with Klaus that day.)

The Handler is the evil physics teacher. (I don’t know why I said evil clearly all science teachers are evil.) (Yes this is coming from a place of aggression but hey at least I recognize that.) (Plus he deserves it. So fuck you.) (*sticks tongue out*) (Don’t you see how mature I am?) (I’m sorry I’m sorry back to your regularly scheduled programming -) She’s Lila’s mom, and continually and constantly misgenders him (and Five!) in class, not even because she hates trans people, just because she hates him (and Five!). Five always challenges her dictatorial rule, refusing to participate in solidarity with Klaus when she forces Klaus to sit out for wearing skirts. She keeps trying to flunk Ray too, the little bitch, but he just keeps doing so well that she can’t even come up with a falsely plausible reason to fail him! She’s been bribing Hazel and Cha-Cha to flunk certain students for years, unaware that Lila has been stealing from the Handler’s own purse to double those prices for those students to ace their classes. Everybody hates her, and for good reason. I hope she gets fired. (Shut up and let me project onto fictional characters, assholes.)

Reginald is the evil principal and Klaus’ abusive dad. He sends Klaus to school every day in a boys’ “uniform”, which Klaus has to change out of in the bathroom every day with borrowed clothes from Allison. (Anything he owns lives at her house; they have an agreement.) Once Klaus forgot to wash off his nail polish before Reginald came home and he broke all of Klaus’ fingers one by one. (Agnes wants to beat him into dust with a rolling pin.) Klaus stays at Diego’s house a lot, though Klaus refuses to come after they break up even though Diego makes it clear that his door will always be open. Five, therefore, is super protective of Klaus - every time he comes over, he’s super respectful when Klaus is in the room and then verbally rips Reginald to shreds as soon as he’s gone. He once stayed over for an impromptu sleepover when he noticed that Klaus was terrified-ly coming up with more and more ridiculous excuses for Five to stay and not leave him alone with Reginald, and as soon as Klaus was asleep, tiptoed around the house to set up bugs and cameras he got from Ben. He gives all of the evidence to Eudora to deliver to the police, who arrest Reginald and leave him to rot in a cement cell for the rest of his sorry fucking life while Klaus goes on to live Happily Ever After because fuck you and your stupid as shit traditionalism and inhumane experiments you lying scheming fuckwad of a psychopathic monster toad.

Hazel is the exhausted English teacher. His secret? He hates every book he teaches. Also he’s been taking bribes from the Handler and Lila because teachers don’t get paid enough in our society. Also his wife Agnes of twenty years divorced him a year ago for the whole bribery situation and he’s been sleeping in his car and using the school’s facilities to appear fine. Yeah, Hazel’s a mess. ANYWAY - Five is the only one who seems to know what’s going on, and Hazel would like to keep it that way. He knows Klaus is a genius with words but doesn’t know how to tell him that, and he knows Diego’s favorite book is Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen and has agreed to take that secret to his grave. (What, it’s a good book!) His class is the only place Diego and Klaus dare to interact, and he’s noticed - they often pair up for assignments and take to the floor or beanbags in the corner, often cuddling up and giggling over whatever book or assignment they’ve been sent off to read or do. Hazel also has another hopeless couple he teaches, Lila and Eudora - eventually Hazel starts leaving Lila’s sappy poems about Eudora on Eudora’s desk when she comes in for her own class (separate from Lila’s) because there is no other way those two idiots are getting together, let’s be honest. There’s just too much communication. Mostly Hazel misses his own wife, Agnes - but he’s been out of luck since he cashed it in with the science department, hot cocoa whore that he is.

Cha-Cha is the history teacher, and she has all the sass and dry sarcasm required for that job. She will beat a bitch up for telling her she can’t teach critical race theory, and plays Drunk History and Overly Sarcastic Productions in her class basically every day. She doesn’t believe in tests because if she did she’d have to grade them, and she likes animated kids’ movies and TV shows, especially Paw Patrol and Sofia the First. (Yes, obviously she’s single. She’s also ace-aro, so who the fuck cares.) She takes the Handler and Lila’s bribes because she runs an underground wrestling ring and would like to continue feeding her pitbulls gourmet food. The only kid she’s truly on edge with is Five, who often challenges her in debates - she can’t decide if she’s impressed or enraged about it. Whatever. School’s out, bitches.

Agnes is the art teacher who knows everything about everybody. All of her art is of donuts. (Of course.) She’s a damn good cook, especially of pizza - and donuts. (Naturally.) She always has munchkins available for her students - and donuts! (She always saves the chocolate glazed and jelly ones for Five and Klaus.) She likes to rap explicit beats in her car and play her music so loud it shakes the ground and you can hear it from miles away. (Obnoxious.) So she doesn’t restrict her kids’ projects because that’s not what art is about. (And because it would make her a hypocrite, obviously.) Sure, she divorced Hazel, but hey - she’s living her best life, and eventually he’ll come to his senses and come crawling back to her at three a.m. to badly lipsync a Justin Bieber song about missing her, and she’ll leap out the window into his giant hairy arms and kiss him on his ginormous teddy bear face. Because Agnes, at heart, is a hippy. (And that’s love, bitch.)

Grace is Diego and Eudora’s (and everybody’s!) mom. She goes out for drinks with Agnes on the weekends and to clubs with Pogo every Friday (the librarian/unofficial therapist who acts as her mouthpiece when Diego does something stupid and won’t listen to her advice, the moron). She’s kind to everyone, but takes no one’s bullshit: you hurt her kids, you die. Important Notice: Everybody Is Her Kid. So be kind to everyone, dickwads. Well - except Reginald. And the Handler. Both of whom she bitchslaps for mistreating her precious babies. She then takes in Klaus because Diego loves him, and Ben because Klaus loves him, and Lila because both Diego ad Eudora love him. The only reason she didn’t take in Sissy was because Ray already had her taken care of. She’s a literal angel sent from heaven and we should all be worshipping her like the goddess she is I’m sorry I don’t know when this became Grace Appreciation Day™ but hey I’m here for it and I have no regrets.

[knullanon]

100 with yandad Steve please???

before writing- theres some mf cat fight and istg if its my cat im about to whoop his ass, but besides that this is kinda mellow. new idea.

after writing- turns out using your own trauma for fanfics is actually really good for the story, terrible for your sanity since you have to relive through everything.

warnings: yelling. like, i talk about that shit a lot. you get to feel what i felt 8 years ago pretty much.

no suprises - radiohead

you hadn’t meant for you dad to find out about where you went every friday night. or, at least, where you actually went. you were a teenager, and you were able to convince him that you were responsible to go out on your own and not cause shit. which was true. you were able to not start shit with other people. but that’s not gonna stop you from going to places where stupid shit was happening.

it started a few months ago. one of your close friends, dalia, had told you about a new group of “fighters” in your school. apparently, they would meet up every friday for fights. people could watch, people could have fun, but phones were a no go and while you could have them on you and text people, you couldn’t tell them about the group. 

you both decided to say fuck it and you both went. it was a blast. 

you has so much fun, and considering that most of the time you were just watching people get the shit beat out of them, it was fun. you met some new friends, new guys, new gals, new everything.

it was a break from your puritist dad who was a bitch about these things. he would always tell you to be careful with people who you didn’t know, or people who didn’t know you would try to hurt you. which, while yes, there were plenty of assholes who had tried to hurt you, you had learned what to look out for.

but steve never believed you. which is why being here, at the group, was a refresher. as the opponent got his ass beat into the ground, you laughed with dalia, holding a drink that you had brought for yourselves. 

it was the final night before a large football game, which was held on a weekend due to testing, and everyone on the fight team was on the football team excluding a few who were too much into fighting to be into football.

so, of course, they were roughing each other up so they wouldn’t have to deal with each other. 

“god, my man mike is getting his ass whooped!” dalia exclaimed, while mike was being punched in the face repeatedly. you laughed and said, “he isn’t even your man!”

“oh, fuck you _____!” she laughed with you as mike was dragged off the stage and the winner, a guy named jake, stood victoriously. 

you faintly remembered a rule your uncle bucky had told you, “never date a guy whose name starts with a J”. weird advice, but helpful, since jason was pending on a charge of domestic violence.

you and dalia laughed a little more, before dalia checked the time. “oh shit, isn’t your dad back by 2 these days?”

looking at your watch, he was indeed back by 2, and it was 1:20. it took you about 30 minutes to get home, and only 10 to get ready for bed. 

“yeah, lets just go.”

as you walked out, you were able to hear the crowd cheering from the inside of the warehouse. walking towards her car at the end of the car park, you said goodbye to her as she got in her own car, and sped off. you didn’t want to spend the night alone and cold in a car park, so you headed off to your own car. 

however, when you got to the place your car was, it wasn’t there. you looked around to make sure that it wasn’t anywhere else. thinking it was stolen, you were about to call dalia to come and pick you up, when a car honked from behind you.

you turned, and it was your car. wait, then who was driving it-

it was steve.

and he did not look happy.

~~~~

“I can’t believe you would lie to me! I let you go out and this is the stuff you do?!”

you sat in the back seat of the car like a child, while your dad angrily drove you home. right now, he was talking about the “dangers” of the outside world.

“I told you, places like those are terrible for a young lady like you! do you realize what could’ve happened if someone went under you car? if someone came up behind you? and- are you even fucking listening to me, _______?!”

that got your attention. steve never cussed out loud, especially not in front of you. this must mean hes really pissed.

“I am not kidding around with you, _____! You aren’t someone big and imposing like me, and you can be easily grabbed! you want to know what they’ll do, ____? do you?!”

“i know what the fucking do, dad.” you were almost on the verge of crying and your voice was quiet. holding in your tears was hard, but you also wanted to weep so bad. it felt like you were being ridiculed like a child.

“did you just cuss at me? did you just cuss at me?!” your dad was getting more and more louder every minute. at this point you were wiping you tears away with your sleeves, trying to cover up the fact that you were crying.

“I don’t care what your friends told you, what you did was not safe, and the fact that you have the audacity to do that after I’ve told you otherwise, is fucking bullshit!”

you were crying silently at this point. you didn’t have anything to say. you wanted to cry.

suddenly, he grabbed his phone and started calling someone. 

“you know what- no, I’m done.”

confused, you were about to ask, when he said, “you’re not going to school anymore.”

“w-what?”

“those kids are just putting shit into your mind that doesn’t need to be there, and I’m tired of it. It’s obviously working. I’m not having it.”

you were in shock. you tearfully asked, “but- but you can’t just-”

“I AM, AND I WILL _____. IF YOU WON’T LISTEN TO ME, THEN I WILL TAKE AWAY THE THINGS THAT ARE HARMING YOU.” he was yelling to you now. you were bawling your eyes out. you curled up so he wouldn’t be able to see you, not wanting him to see you acting like a child.

this really turned out to a shitty night, huh?

[fictionliv-ing]

Akatsuki in College

Deidara:

First year art major with a minor in sculpture. That guy in the back of the class who seems like he does nothing but laze around. He’s actually really talented and aces every single class he’s in. Spends majority of his time in the sculpting room, so much that his friends have to come in and bring him food, just to make sure he eats well. It comes as no surprise to other art majors to see freshman Tobi skip into the sculpting room to bring Deidara an entire meal and multiple bottles of water. Most of his sculptures resemble woodland creatures, his personal favorites being birds and spiders. Sometimes like to set them on fire in the quadrangle for no reason at all.

When he’s not working on a sculpture for class, he can be found in the dorms where he’s probably animatedly debating with his roommate Sasori over the true meaning of art. Sometimes their arguments get so boisterous and explosive that their neighbor Pein has to poke his head in and yell at them to shut up. He secretly admires Sasori’s robots, anyway.

Sasori:

Postgraduate chemical engineering major with a minor in robotics. A silent worker. Slouches in his seat a lot, so even if he’s seated in the front row, no one realizes that he’s in their class until two months into the semester. One of the smartest kids in class, but not the easiest to work with because he scares everyone else away; definitely not a team player. One of the handful of graduate students that chose to dorm on campus because he’d hate to waste time commuting home everyday. Likes to make little robot prototypes for future projects in his spare time. Has had to stop himself from slipping some poison into Deidara’s drink about 328742374 times- but in his defense, it’s not his fault that the kid believes in all the wrong views of art.

Doesn’t really have time to socialize, but he does have time to spy on his long-time enemy, university researcher and biochemistry professor Orochimaru. He will never forget the day Orochimaru gave him the only B+ he’s ever gotten in his life. Unforgiveable. Despite being rather antisocial, he’s taken a liking to his neighbor’s friend Itachi, but maybe that’s because Itachi once proved Orochimaru wrong during one of the latter’s special classes in research ethics.

Itachi:

Third year philosophy major. Campus heartthrob. Always gets teased by his friends, Hidan and Kisame, for being so popular with the ladies, even though he’d rather just study quietly in the library. Occasionally gets dragged out by Kisame to go shopping for sports equipment, or Hidan, who wants to party.

Incredibly smart and analytical. Is always at the top of every class. Gives the best presentations, writes perfect papers, fully immerses himself in lectures- professors light up when they see Itachi walk into their classroom. Has everyone wrapped around his finger, though he never abuses it. Very kind and respectful. Is the type to quietly help others out, always patiently explaining confusing concepts to his classmates and catching nearby strangers when they clumsily trip over their own feet. The only one in his friend group that doesn’t stay at the dorms; he goes home after class every day (to the disappointment of his many fangirls) and spends his evenings helping his brother with his math homework.

Kisame:

Postgraduate sports science major. Founder of the campus swimming team. He’s big and bulky and likes to coach the swim team sometimes. The freshmen are all scared of him, but he’s the reason why they end up so great. While he’s not coaching the younger students, he’s catching up on his readings, writing his papers, and convincing Itachi to accompany him in buying new swimming trunks.

Likes talking to his roommate Pein and hearing about his microbiology ideas, and is somehow always able to make a connection with his own field of study. Occasionally comes up with research topics that they can work on together, but never actually pushes through with them because of Pein’s busy schedule. Sometimes falls victim to Hidan’s shirtless horny dancing during parties, and has to help Itachi drag Hidan home.

Hidan:

Third year theology major. Not the biggest fan of studying; he’s honestly surprised to have made it this far just by borrowing notes and copying off of his classmates here and there. He’s taking theology because he wants a better understanding of the deities that rule this earth and to find someone in this universe to look up to and worship. Despite the stereotypical ‘good boy’ standard that comes with being a theology major, Hidan isn’t shy about defying the stereotype. He’s everyone’s dealer and is that guy on campus who’ll have a thermos full of alcohol instead of water. Has incredibly high alcohol tolerance, though it doesn’t take him much to start acting crazy. Always present at every party. Takes “the party don’t start ‘till I walk in” phrase quite literally. If you think you’re having fun at a party, you haven’t partied with Hidan yet. “Yet” because you’re bound to at some point.

Likes to drag Itachi around to parties because he knows that Itachi’s not the drinking type, so Hidan can rely on him to drive him home safely. Teases Itachi for being popular with the ladies and goes out of his way to steal his friend’s fangirls for himself. Likes to take off his shirt randomly (he claims it’s a flirting technique.), much to Itachi and Kisame’s dismay, but Hidan’s never shy about it because his self confidence is that high.

Kakuzu:

Former finance professor. He retired years ago, but he contributed so much to the university’s finance department that he often gets invited to hold classes and lectures. Reluctantly goes to give talks to lesser minds. Would rather be balancing his books at home instead. Still invests in stocks and bonds and that kind of shit, he’s all about making money. Wants to be buried with his money when he dies (like, with the money inside his coffin, and not just in the ground with him- he specified it in his will). Never got married, because they didn’t allow him to marry his bank account.

Pein:

Postgraduate microbiology major. Dorms with Kisame, who talks a lot about the inner workings of sports science (it actually helps him look at his field of study in a different perspective so he doesn’t mind Kisame’s blabbering). Focuses his papers on cloning and stuff like that because he wants to successfully clone humans one day. Doesn’t know why….he just finds it cool.

Close friends with Nagato and Konan, though he spends most of his time in the library or in his dorm room, always studying. Konan and Nagato like to drop by sometimes to bring food and convince him to take a break. Lives right next door to Deidara and Sasori who argue a lot, so he ends up leaving his room just to yell at them to shut up. Pein values his study time like no other- he just wants to master everything and successfully prove that his brain is better than everyone else’s.

Konan:

Postgraduate design major. The living embodiment of “Aestheticism is the only thing worth pursuing.” Has a very strong grunge aesthetic, her closet is a combination of black, grey, navy, and maroon. Likes to color her hair a lot; some days she’ll be a redhead, then the next week, she’ll have hair the color of the sky on a rainy day. Because of this, she’s developed an extensive haircare routine, so her hair is always healthy. Dorms with Nagato, as they’ve been close friends since time immemorial, and often gets mistaken for being his girlfriend. Their neighbor Hidan likes to tease them about being sexually active together, and her only response is to blush madly and hit the side of his head hard enough to make him shut up.

Spends her time creating pieces to add to her portfolio and attending art workshops. At one point, she meets Deidara and is immediately intrigued by his sculptures. He invites her to visit the sculpting room and encourages her to try her hand at the medium. She discovers she doesn’t care much for stone and marble, but has fun working with malleable pieces of clay. This sparks her interest in origami and paper art. Nagato now comes home to a dorm full of paper cranes and paper butterflies.

Nagato:

Postgraduate philosophy major with a minor in world history. He likes to think about the rights and wrongs and many faces of the world. Befriends Itachi after meeting at a lecture and have been keeping in touch since then, talking about the flaws of this world. At some point, Itachi starts asking him for feedback on his papers and he becomes Itachi’s mentor. The Reason why Itachi is absolutely slaying his classes is because he gets advice from Nagato on how to improve his papers and make them So Good that his professors give him nothing less than an A.

Is roommates with Konan, who has been his best friend ever since they were small and adorable (he still thinks she’s small and adorable, though he would never admit that out loud.). Grunts in indifference and looks away whenever Hidan teases him and Konan about being together, and it’s only thanks to his long, red hair that his burning ears stay hidden. Always has shit to say about that kid during his weekly get-togethers with Konan and Tobi.

Tobi: 

Freshman psychology major. He decided to study psychology for fun and enrolled after getting his masters in management, which is why he’s older than all of his classmates. Doesn’t stop him from acting younger than his actual age, though. Likes to follow Deidara around (Deidara has a theory that Tobi only enrolled in psychology to learn how to effectively annoy people.) and marvel at his art.

Shares a dorm with Hidan, whose reactions are really funny, so Tobi makes sure to play lost and lots of pranks on his roomie. Always forgets that Hidan can get quite explosive when angered, and ends up having to run away from his roommate’s airborne kitchen knives. Befriends Nagato, and in extension, Konan as well. They like to spend Friday nights out together, usually at a chill bar, where they drink more than the appropriate amount of sake and complain about their neighbors, Deidara, Hidan, and Sasori (Kisame’s good, Kisame’s nice, they say.).

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

I want to write an original story with a similar basic premise to Animorphs (kids use alien technology to fight a secret guerrilla war against other invading alien species and are subsequently severely traumatized), but I'm not sure how clearly distinct from Animorphs I need to make it to be legally okay. The plot's pretty different asides from that and none of the characters are really similar, but I'm not sure if it's still too close. Any advice?

Yes!  All advice comes with the whopping caveat that I’ve never published a novel myself, but I can make recommendations.

Step 1: Write the dang thing!

I feel like we writers worry too much, too often, and especially too early about copyright issues.  I’ve had friends fret over the possibility of mentioning Disney in novels that they haven’t so much as outlined; my usual response is to hand them a copy of Percy Jackson with the 30,000 mentions of Diet Coke flagged, or to highlight the words “PlayStation” and “Sellotape” in the Harry Potter series.  Heck, Animorphs itself takes potshots at Nickelodeon and Planet Hollywood.  Worrying about copyright early on in the writing process is useless to the extent that it’s almost impossible to predict what copyright issues the final product will or won’t have.  I successfully published a poem trashing Dole fruit company in an anthology, only to have the whole anthology pulled because its inside cover accidentally (incorrectly) implied that it was published through our university’s press.

Trust me, I get why this problem draws the mind — it assumes a reality where my novel is finished, an agent accepts it, a publisher puts it out, and it sells enough copies for senpai to notice me.  But if you’re not talking to a publisher about this issue over your sixth or seventh draft of your polished manuscript, you’re borrowing tsuris.  Maybe by the time you’re done writing your novel, the resemblance to Animorphs will be less than passing.  Maybe you’ll run into a completely different set of copyright issues.  Point being: cross that bridge when you come to it.  Even better, let your publisher cross it for you.  That’s part of why they’re there.

Step 2: Draw out what makes your story unique, and avoid what makes K.A. Applegate’s story unique.

If you’re writing about mind-controlling aliens, that’s fine!  Those date back to at least Robert A. Heinlein, and arguably as early as humanity itself has had a concept of possession by spirits.  If you’re writing about shapeshifting kids, also fine!  Those definitely date back to the dawn of human culture, and can be found in the religions of every continent.  If you’re writing about trauma, fine.  I think you’re okay to borrow almost all of the broad strokes of Animorphs.

Things that wouldn’t be okay to borrow:

Specific descriptions of specific aliens.  If you have any vulcan-like beings in this universe, don’t make them four-eyed four-legged scorpion-tailed blue people.  Same goes for all the unique species and creatures.

The exact words KAA uses to write the scenes.  Hopefully you learned this already in middle school, but you have to do a hell of a lot more than rewording a quote to avoid plagiarism.  Don’t even paraphrase any passage from an Animorphs book, ever.  Write your own stuff.

Exact plots.  If you’re having your child shapeshifters chased by a sentient tornado that senses their shapeshifting energy while they all drive around continuously shapeshifting to play keep-away with said tornado, then that’s copying KAA’s homework even if you never use the words “yeerk” or “veleek.”

Exact characters.  This one’s nebulous, but try to avoid having your first narrator be a thirteen-year-old boy who enjoys basketball but was cut from the team, whose older brother is mind-controlled by an alien, whose friends all describe him as middle-aged before his time, and whose girlfriend is an animal-loving assistant vet.  You can write a Jake-like character if you change anything from his sport of choice to his ethnicity — and then ask yourself how that difference would change his outlook or upbringing.

Macguffins.  This is similar to the specific aliens: however your protagonists gain the ability to shapeshift, don’t make it a blue box.

Step 3: TELL NO ONE.

If I had to guess, at least one author has already done exactly what you’re describing — written heavily modified Animorphs fan fiction and published it as an original work.  If I had to make a specific guess, it’d be either that Veronica Roth’s Divergent series started as a work of Rachel/Tobias fan fiction, or that Stephenie Meyer’s The Host started as a fan sequel to the whole series.  However, I can’t go beyond guessing, because both authors are (WISELY) keeping their traps shut about the issue.  Yes, Roth has mentioned that Tobias “Four” Eaton is named after Tobias Fangor, but hasn’t gone beyond that.  Meyer has pulled the ultimate Mary-Shelly-worthy power move by responding to questions about her inspiration with “it came to me in a dream ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” which, honestly, life goals right there.

Speaking of Stephenie Meyer, let’s talk about E.L. James as an example of what not to do.  Sure, she didn’t have a ton of choice about people knowing 50 Shades of Grey was Twilight fan fiction — she initially published it on FFN under that heading — but it’s also this unavoidable fact about that novel that has contaminated many people’s perceptions of it.  Meyer has chosen to be classy as fuck about the whole thing through making no acknowledgement whatsoever of James, but she’d be well within her right to sue.  And James’s own work is forever going to be “that Twilight fan fic that made it big,” never considered purely for its own merits.  Jump from E.L. James to Cassandra Clare, and things get uglier: Clare’s been open about the fact that the Mortal Instruments originated as Harry/Draco fan fiction, and as such there’s widespread awareness in fandom spaces that Clare was that cyberbully on FFN back in the day, and is probably guilty of plagiarism.

How to avoid that nonsense?  Take it to your grave.  I know that one of the bestselling YA novels of 2015 was an utterly-revamped Supernatural fic idea; I only know that through the author being a friend of a friend, because the author has (WISELY) made zero public statements that that’s the case.  I know that Tamora Pierce, D.J. MacHale, Stephenie Meyer, and Noelle Stevenson have all quietly acknowledged having FFN or AO3 accounts, and I also know that none of their fan fiction usernames are widely known for good reason.  I know that Applegate herself has made statements that, shall we say, do not definitively rule out the possibility that Animorphs might have in its earliest incarnations borne passing resemblance to Lord of the Rings fan fiction.  But none of these authors have said as much on the record, which is the right way to go.

Anyway, happy writing!

[vickyvicarious]

Oh my god. What if at one time, even very briefly, both Parker and Hardison were in the same foster home?

Pre-Nana Hardison is weird to write and I don’t know enough about their age difference/childhoods so this is rather vague on details (like for example names haha), but a certain scene popped into my head as soon as I read this ask so have a tiny fic exploring that.

(AO3)

.

As soon as he walked in the door, Alec could tell this wasn’t a good place.

It didn’t seem like it was bad, at least - not the type of bad he’d heard about from other kids, the type he knew he’d been lucky to avoid so far. But there were a lot of little signs that this wasn’t one of the good places, either. It wasn’t so much the small house, or the five other kids he saw when they took him inside. The furniture looked old and beat-up, and the TV was a dinky old monstrosity, and there really wasn’t much else to see. But none of that was what clued him in; way more important was the way Mr. Reeves smiled at him.

Alec could tell fake from real easily enough.

As soon as his social worker left, he was told to leave his stuff in the back bedroom and stay quiet, and then Mr. Reeves walked off. A moment later, a door slammed down the hall. It wasn’t anything scary, but the cold disinterest was its own sort of stinging. He didn’t much mind though, or he told himself he didn’t anyway, because it wasn’t like he was staying here long. He was supposed to be staying with a Mrs. Hardison but apparently she’d gotten sick and wouldn’t be able to take him in for another week. He didn’t know what he was going to be in for with her either, but for the moment not having to stay here any longer than a week was plenty good enough.

Once Mr. Reeves was gone, the other kids livened up a bit. Alec didn’t go put his stuff away, instead flopping down on the floor near the crowded couch and making friends. He might only be here for a week, but that was no reason he had to be lonely.

.

Elijah was the one to tell him about the ghost.

Everyone was normal amounts of friendly, for foster kids. Meaning a pretty even mix of cheerful and reclusive, one very tall boy wearing a lot of black, a couple little kids too young to make good conversation, one older girl who sat crosslegged in the corner of the room and didn’t say a single word the entire afternoon. Elijah was cool though, and so were Alex and Sanjay, so Alec mostly hung out with them. They watched cartoons and after a while Alex pulled a pack of cards out of her jacket pocket and led them to the bedroom so they could play Go Fish in peace. It was actually a pretty big room, but most of the space was taken up with bunkbeds so it still felt crowded. Sanjay showed Alec where he’d be (the bottom bunk near the door, because of course all the better beds were taken) and if he were staying any longer than a week, he might’ve tried to trade with one of them. He could have made it a bet. In his experience, all kids liked betting on games, and also in his experience, Alec could win any bet that relied on cards since he could keep track of who had what in his head pretty easily.

He was glad he didn’t try, anyway, because Elijah was the one whose bed he would have gone after, since it was a top by the window, and Elijah was the one who liked him enough after beating him three times to tell him about the ghost in the house.

Weird things had started happening a while ago, he explained. At first no one thought anything of it, because there were a lot of people coming in and out who could have been moving stuff around, but then Mr. Reeves came storming in one day yelling about someone taking his watch. The one he wore all the time and never took off, not even when he showered probably. He made everyone go through all their stuff, and pretty much everyone found things missing - but they were all in with someone else’s belongings. It would have turned into a huge argument except by the time everyone found they had someone else’s stuff they were all too confused to be angry for long. Also, Mr. Reeves’ watch didn’t turn up, and he’d yelled for hours about it, which kind of distracted everyone.

Except that right after he finally gave up and left the room, he came rushing back asking who put it back on his dresser. It was obviously impossible, because everyone had been in the room the whole time getting yelled at. A rumor started about the ghost that night, after everyone had been sent to bed without dinner because no one had fessed up. And at first, Elijah said, he hadn’t believed in it either (he must’ve caught Alec’s snort), but then stuff like that just kept happening. People lost stuff, even if they carried them around everywhere, only for them to turn up in weird places days later, like on top of the ceiling fan or inside the cereal box instead of all the cereal, or stuffed inside someone else’s shoes. Some of the stuff that went missing never came back. But most of that stuff belonged to Mr. Reeves, so the kids didn’t usually mind too much.

“Don’t worry about hanging onto whatever you want to keep,” Elijah said, finally. “It doesn’t matter, the ghost will take it right out of your hand if it wants to. My advice is just to ask it to give it back. It listens, sometimes, if you’re nice about it.”

Alec tried really really hard not to roll his eyes, because even if he was only going to be here a week that was no reason to be lonely. Elijah didn’t seem to notice.

.

Alec was pretty good at sleeping, as long as he remembered to try. He didn’t have any trouble falling asleep in a brightly-lit room, or with lots of noise, or even a bedtime that changed every other day. As long as someone made sure he wasn’t in front of a computer or a book or painting or trying to build a crossbow out of sticks or whatever else caught his attention that day, he could fall asleep in two minutes flat once he decided to.

So he didn’t actually need a better bed, and he wasn’t bothered by the couple of times other kids had to slip past him in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Someone crying into their pillow across the room didn’t phase him, not any more than hearing someone cry always did. He knew better than to go help, especially because he was pretty sure it was the tall boy wearing all black, and older kids usually hated younger kids showing them up at anything.

The first night he stayed with Mr. Reeves passed uneventfully. So did the second, third, fourth, and fifth.

.

Since it was summer, there wasn’t really much to do other than sit around the house. Mr. Reeves made the older kids help out with chores, but he didn’t really bother the younger ones and Alec was small for his age so he got off easy with just babysitting the really little kids. There was a yard, but it was mostly just dirt with a few weeds, and they weren’t supposed to wander off into the neighborhood. Alec saw all the older kids leave anyway at least three times apiece, but it wasn’t really any of his business so he didn’t worry about it. Besides, one thing Mr. Reeves did have was an old bookshelf with some battered paperbacks, three of which were actually Star Trek books Alec had never read before. He tried to make them last, because without school to go to or a library nearby he didn’t have access to any computers and the TV really did suck. It didn’t work too well though, he still finished all of them two days into his stay, and then he didn’t have anything else to do but just hang out with the others. It had been a good idea, making friends.

Alex taught him some new card games he’d never played, up until Wednesday when her pack of cards went missing. She’d just shuffled it up and put the rubber band back around it, tucking it into her pocket, when Alec spotted a Jack that had fallen to the floor. She went to get the pack back out of her pocket, but it wasn’t there anymore. Alec had been right there the whole time and he hadn’t seen or heard anything.

It was stupid, ghosts weren’t real.

(He checked through all his stuff that afternoon, just in case. Nothing was missing. Of course it wasn’t, ghosts weren’t real.)

.

Mr. Reeves was never around, except in the mornings when he gave everyone their chore lists. He didn’t even spend much time in the house at all, but when he did he was mostly back in his room or watching the news on his really just unfortunate TV. Whenever that happened, the other kids cleared out and left him alone, without really making a point of it or anything. They just found other stuff to do - even if it was in the same room, like on Thursday when it was raining really hard. No one tried to sit on the couch with him and they all got really quiet. Alec noticed that everyone seemed to follow his rules really well whenever he was around, even though when he wasn’t there they pretty much did whatever they wanted. He didn’t seem to notice or care as long as stuff like the laundry and dishes got done, and nobody got hurt. Alec hadn’t had a single conversation with him all week.

Not one of the bad ones.

But not good.

.

On Alec’s penultimate day in the house, something of his finally went missing. It was a notebook he’d carried around since the start of last school year, when his then foster-part Keller gave it to him for taking notes in class. Alec didn’t really ever bother doing that because he usually could figure out whatever the lesson was and remember it later without writing anything down, but he did like to draw in it. He’d started trying to write code in there too, but honestly he didn’t like trying to write down what he was thinking because his hand could never keep up with his brain. He was much faster at typing, even if he only really got to on school computers. Mostly, Alec just liked to draw stuff.

It wasn’t like the notebook really mattered. Alec didn’t have a lot of stuff, but most of what he did have didn’t matter too much. He’d like it to matter, he’d like that a lot, but the simple fact was he didn’t have anything he really cared about, not that couldn’t be replaced if he really needed. A new book would still have the same words, he didn’t even really like any of the clothes he had except his glow-in-the-dark Darth Vader shirt and even that was starting not to glow anymore. The notebook probably came closest to something really special.

Alec thought about getting mad. He really did, he really almost came very close to blowing his top. But he’d been in not-so-good houses before. He’d spent hours walking around the neighborhood, smiling at people who half the time slammed the door in his face, trying to sell them on a religion he didn’t even feel very strongly about. He’d tried getting mad before and it just never really worked. And he didn’t have time here to try something that didn’t work, even if he really really really wanted to.

Instead, Alec asked the other kids about his notebook. None of them had seen it anywhere, or at least none of them admitted to seeing it. Some of them didn’t even bother to answer, or he didn’t bother to ask them. The toddlers weren’t exactly going to be much help.

Next, Alec searched the house for his notebook. He looked under everything, behind everything, he even went to Mr. Reeves’ room and asked him very politely if he’d seen it, hovering on the threshold and looking around everywhere. He didn’t see anything and Mr. Reeves just told him no and to leave him alone. He sounded so final and Alec was only here one more day, and so far nothing had happened to explain why all the other kids stayed very quiet whenever Mr. Reeves was in the room. He didn’t need to find out if there was a reason.

He didn’t need the notebook, anyway, and he could leave without it if he had to but he didn’t want to. He wanted it back. He wanted it almost enough to believe in ghosts, if that was something that would work, and after dinner he went to the bathroom and spoke to the ghost while he was washing his hands so no one else would hear.

“That’s mine and I want it back please,” Alec told the ghost, feeling very silly. “You’re a jerk if you don’t give it back before I leave.”

.

He didn’t go to sleep that night, because ghosts weren’t real and even if they were it wasn’t like he was gonna put his trust in a thief to fix things. Alec still got into bed, still lay down and breathed quietly and even closed his eyes when Mr. Reeves stuck his head in to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be, but he didn’t sleep.

Instead, he waited for everyone else to fall asleep, so he could use the flashlight he’d taken from the garage to look through all their things until he got his notebook back. Only Elijah and Sanjay had been willing to let him root through their stuff during the day. Mostly everyone ignored him, blaming it all on the ghost.

Alec waited until he couldn’t hear anyone else making any noise, then a few more minutes to be sure they were all asleep, then counted to three hundred just in case, before finally sitting up. He turned to face the rest of the beds, pulling the flashlight out from under his pillow but not turning it on yet.

And then he saw the ghost, floating above Elijah’s bed. Alec froze up, only a quick gasp making its way through his lips. He felt terrified for just a moment, scared for his life because he wasn’t going to bet on the ghost staying friendly when someone caught it. And also it looked like it might be trying to eat Elijah’s soul, or something.

But then the ghost lifted its head, just enough for the moonlight coming in through the window to shine on its face, to make the long silvery strands of spiderweb hair catch enough light that they looked blonde again. The shadows around its skull no longer looked faceless.

In fact, it was grinning at him. It held a single pale finger up over its lips.

Alec blinked rapidly, watching as the ghost moved over Elijah’s bed like a spider, only touching the frame. It crouched on its tiptoes, fiddling with the window - the locked window that no one could get open, so it got insanely hot in here during the day and no one spent much time here if they could help it - and a moment later swung it open silently.

The ghost-girl, she was a girl with pale skin and long hair silvery in the moonlight, slipped through the window feet first, reaching out and up and either catching on something or just floating in midair, before she let go of the windowsill and swung backwards into the night. In the last moment before she let go and fell head-first down to the ground, she smiled at him again and twiddled her fingers in a silent wave.

Alec’s heart thumped hard when she vanished out of sight. He listened but he didn’t hear anything hit the ground. His fingers were trembling, he felt like something might grab his ankles from under the bed.

When he flicked on the flashlight, carefully covering all but a slit of the beam with his fingers, it turned out there was no need to search: his notebook was sitting on the floor right in front of him, looking perfectly innocent. He snatched it up, then hid under his covers with the light to check that none of the pages were missing, that everything was the way he’d left it.

It all was - except on the last page, where there were several sketches of cars. A couple from the outside, the rest from what looked like what you’d see from inside the driver’s seat. They were really good, probably better than Alec’s art. They were also weird, little lines marked at the driver’s side window, several spots on the inside of the dashboard, one drawing just a tangle of wires. It didn’t make any sense at all, but it was back and that was good enough.

He’d be leaving tomorrow morning, he didn’t need to know any more (even if he really really wanted to, now).

.

In the morning, Alec snuck the flashlight back into the garage before Mr. Reeves got up. He shrugged when Elijah caught him carrying his notebook around and laughingly asked him if he’d asked the ghost to give it back. He wanted to tell his friend about actually seeing the ghost, but something stopped him. He wasn’t sure what, exactly. It wasn’t like he had any reason to be scared of her, since he was leaving and he was pretty sure ghosts couldn’t leave where they were haunting. But still. Something about the memory of her shadowed grin, her finger telling him to hush… it wasn’t scary really, but he didn’t want to ignore her.

Mr. Reeves clapped a hand on his shoulder when his social worker came to pick Alec up. He laughed with her, told her Alec’d been no trouble at all and they’d had a great time together. He shook her hand and helped Alec carry his stuff out to the car. He told him “take care, son,” and smiled down at him and shut the car door for him once he was inside the backseat.

Behind him, a couple of the other kids stood in the yard or the doorway. Alex and Sanjay were waving; Elijah had his arms crossed and a frown on his face. Benny and Miles, the little kids, waved for a second before getting distracted by something on the ground.

And standing in the doorway was an older girl with long blond hair and pale skin, her mouth set in a neutral line. The girl who barely spoke to anyone, who spent most of her time this past week working on cleaning out the gutters together with the oldest boy John, and then just vanishing all afternoon. Her eyebrows furrowed a little as she watched the car start to take him away, and Alec suddenly felt a crazy impulse to wave at her over any of his friends.

He twiddled his fingers at her, grinning.

The car was pulling away, starting to speed up down the street, but Alec still saw her. Saw the ghost-girl blink, then smile, just a quick flash before he passed her completely.

[hellreads]

Thank you for your blog it's really helpful sksjsksj anyway i don't know if you like dark themes(yandere, supernatural, psychological) but if you do what are the best fic you can recommend? Especially Jimin's? Thank you in advance ❤️❤️

hello there lovey! thank you for appreciating my blog, btw I LOVE DARK THEMED FICS and I have read a lot of stories with said theme (yandere and psychological are part of my fave reads), anyways, I will be listing below my favorites for every member, you can also check other fics on my organized shelf in case you’re looking for specific stories xxx | 🍒

Kim Namjoon

❥ Let the Villain Win by @lemonjoonah➴ Author/Yandere!AU | Namjoon x Reader | One-Shot➴ Kim Namjoon, famous author and your childhood friend has been keeping a secret from you. His new book treads on such dark themes that he’s finding it difficult to write. Excited by the prospect of a sinister plot you offer him a piece of advice, “Let the villain win…”

❥ First, Do No Harm by @psycho-slytherin➴ Doctor/Yandere!AU | Namjoon x Reader | One-Shot➴ Dr. Kim is well known as the most skilled heart surgeon in the hospital, but when you notice his mortality statistics seem skewered, you discover all is not what it seems. Now, Dr. Kim is offering you a choice: will you join him? Or become yet another broken heart beneath his scalpel?

❥ A Little Bit of Sugar (but lots of poison too) by @lthyl➴ Noir!AU | Namjoon x Reader | One-Shot➴ Namjoon is well aware that some, well actually most people could find his hobby not exactly common, yet he still considers himself to be a man of tasteful words and higher intellect - someone who managed to understand the true, deepest meaning of beauty itself.

Kim Seokjin

❥ A Portrait’s Whisper by @jimlingss➴ Supernatural!AU | Seokjin x Reader | One-Shot➴ When you’re trapped in a house controlled by a witch’s power, Seokjin will go through every means to search for you again.

❥ Cake by yeyeniejjung➴ Killer/Yandere!AU | Seokjin x Reader | Series➴ “I was always hungry for your love. Just once, I wanted to know what is was like to get my fill of it. I wanted to be fed so much love that I couldn’t take it anymore, just once.”

Min Yoongi

❥ Dead Leaves by wrienne➴ Police/Det!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Jimin | Series➴ In which you (reader) are a homicide detective about to face the biggest hurdle both of your career and life.

Married to probably the kindest but most boring man you’ve ever met and living in a town where nothing ever seems to happen means life for you is dull. Dull enough to drive you crazy with boredom and dissatisfaction. However, life changes abruptly when your old boss retires and a new man takes his place - a man you used to love (and sleep very regularly with) more than a decade ago. Especially when your husband comes home smelling of perfume, you’re unable to resist your more carnal urges and dead women start showing up across the city with unnerving frequency.

Jung Hoseok

❥ Lost and Found by @fortunexkookie➴ Peter Pan!AU | Hoseok x Reader | Series➴ The only hope you had at ending your exile and earning your life back came in the form of an infuriating and uncatchable man: Hoseok. He seemed to love the endless game of cat-and-mouse you two played - so much, in fact, that you were unsure if you were the cat or the mouse. What he failed to realize was that there was a third player, and this one wasn’t after him. The Crocodile hunted you with an intensity that rivaled the way you chased Hoseok, but with one difference: the games he played were deadly.

❥ Taken at Dusk by @yeontanismypresident➴ Hybrid/Yandere!AU | Hoseok x Reader x Jungkook | Series ➴ The moment you sauntered into the party, his gaze was locked in on your form. Everywhere you went, his eyes followed along, not wanting to lose you in the huge crowd of sweaty bodies. There was something about you that drove his instincts wild. Was it your scent? Your attitude? The manner in which you held yourself? He didn’t have a clue and he couldn’t have cared less, so long as you were his and his only. And he would do anything to make that happen.

❥ Red Door, Yellow Door by @polaritae➴ Supernatural/Incubus!AU | Seokjin x Reader x Hoseok | One-Shot➴ In hindsight, maybe going into a trance to communicate with the spirit world was a bad idea.

Park Jimin

❥ Eradicate by @gukptune➴ Purge!AU | Jimin x Reader | One-Shot➴ A hotel intern finds himself trapped between death and lust.

❥ Neighbors by @jkeuphoriadreamland➴ Neighbors/Yandere!AU | Jimin x Reader | Series➴ Finally achieving your successes in life you never expected the distraction that came with your new hot neighbor. He however, had been trying to get your attention for a much different reason.

❥ Otherworldly by @sinning-on-a-sunday➴ Coraline!AU | Jimin x Reader | Two-Shot➴ When you discover a tiny door in your home that leads to a much better version of your own life, it seems too good to be true. little do you know, the man posing as your boyfriend may be a lot more dangerous than you care to admit. and he is not intent on letting you leave.

❥ The Uncanny by sinsirella➴ Stalker/Yandere!AU | Jimin x Reader | Series➴ “The uncanny is the psychological experience of something as strangely familiar, rather than simply mysterious.” An everyday object or occurrence can be experienced as something unsettling and alienated. This is accompanied by a discomforting effect and—most of the time—leads to an outright rejection of said subject. Or Someone.(Y/N) is a young girl whose Life turns upside down. One day her mother surprises her with news of her arranged husband, forcing her into her new chaotic lifestyle. Join her journey and experience her new life through her eyes. Will she get along with her husband? Or someone else? What are they hiding?

❥ Nine-One-One by @yminie➴ Det/Killer!AU | Jimin x Reader | Series➴ When murder and crime threaten the city of Seoul, there’s a team in place to help keep the public safe, but just what do you do when all your training is to help others, and the one that needs help is actually you?

❥ Devotion by @sugaxjpg➴ Angel/Demon!AU | Jimin x Reader | One-Shot➴ As an angel questioning your place in Heaven, the last thing you needed was for someone like him to appear.

❥ The Devil’s Own Luck by @jimlingss​➴ Demon!AU | Jimin x Reader | One-Shot➴ You should’ve known that opening that box would’ve made your luck go rotten. And not only that, but a certain demon would end up following you for the rest of your days. Introducing the devilish boy - Jimin! Your childhood best friend from the underworld who will never leave your side!

Kim Taehyung ( I read a lot of dark fics for Taehyung so just check my shelf)

❥ Beastly Gods by @lemonjoonah​➴ Hybrid/Yandere!AU | Taehyung x Reader | One-Shot➴ ‘Don’t leave the forest,’ a rule that you’ve been forced to follow since birth, but you are tired of living in this wooden cage. Out of desperation you cut a deal with Taehyung, who claims to be the only one who can get you out safely, even though he might be just as dangerous as the god you’re trying to escape.

❥ Minutiae by coconutty ➴ Stalker!AU | Taehyung x Reader | Series➴ Y/N meets a mysterious and alluring photographer and wants to interview him. Along the way things start getting a bit strange. What happens when you draw the attention of someone who always gets what they want?

❥ L’Appel Du Vide by @infireation​➴ Killer!AU | Taehyung x Reader | Series➴ //

Jeon Jungkook (I read a lot of JK dark fics too so pls just check my shelf)

❥ Only You by @sweetbunnykook (+ all of her stories!!!)➴ Lovers/Yandere!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Namjoon x Jin | Series➴ Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

❥ Every Breath You Take by @junqkook​➴ Stalker/Yandere!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ Everything was going great when you first met jeon jungkook. he was a new light in your life with soft smiles and tinkling laughs; but then you noticed a lurking presence that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

❥ Lust by @umitae➴ Stalker/Killer!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ Everybody has a lust for something. but his lust was beyond the ordinary one. his lust for you was out of this world. he only wanted you and in order to make you his, everything had to go his way.

OT7 (so all possible dark tags apply to these stories so please please please check all tags and warnings before reading!!!)

❥ Extreme Obsession by saylilirose➴ Psychological/Poly!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ In life, you meet one person that you live and grow old with. You? You meet seven. But your love? Non-existent. But theirs? Real…and obsessive.Which turns deadly and dangerous. Without hesitation.

❥ The Scarlet Lust by infires_fanfic➴ Vampire!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ Your world becomes turned upside down as a series of unfortunate events places you directly in the hands of a clan of blood-thirsty vampires, where you become their one and only human servant. Filled with uncertainty, strange emotions and many questions, what truths will you uncover? Are your new keepers the intimate form of evil incarnate, or is there humanity hidden beneath the surface of their statuesquely beautiful faces?