#i enjoy doing these little flash analysis posts

[ofthehands]

I think another, often overlooked aspect of Drayton’s parenting that would have been detrimental to his brothers and formative for them is his inconsistency. It’s probably less discussed because it’s more subtle and inconsistent parenting isn’t necessarily abusive, but I think it is worth considering/ exploring with these characters. 

Heads up for discussion of abuse/ unhealthy family dynamics. 

Drayton is shown to be a very inconsistent man, primarily in the first film but in the second as well. He’s sadistic in the scene where he has Sally in the truck with him, stabbing her with the broom handle for fun, and in the dinner scene at points, where he seems to be enjoying his brother’s antics- then he abruptly turns and snaps at them, telling them not to “torture the poor girl”. He’s fine with the family living in filth- he doesn’t complain about things like the room with the chicken in it being covered in feathers or the rotting flesh and taxidermy around them or the corpses they keep in the house- until he turns and snaps at Bubba for not having pride in his home and beats him for breaking the door. He talks on and on about how family comes first, and insists his brothers live by this- with their near worship of Grandpa and lack of outside connections and his anger at Bubba for his perceived relationship with Stretch, but at the same time he isn’t supportive of his brothers and only very rarely indulges them in their interests or listens to them. And while it’s a goofy scene, because of the nature of TCM2, Drayton does ultimately commit murder-suicide, taking out nearly his entire family with him- without any visible concern as to whether or not Chop Top will be present when it happens, leaving him behind. 

All of this makes sense with what we know about Drayton’s character- he’s inconsistent because he’s in conflict with himself. Drayton goes back and forth about being sadistic towards Sally because he likes it, but feels ashamed about that. In Chainsaw Confidential, Gunnar Hansen said that Hooper wanted to get across that, “[Drayton] seems to enjoy torturing her and, at the same time, to be afraid that the torture will produce some terrible reaction with which he will be unable to cope” in the dinner scene, and Hansen describes him as afraid of his own sadistic desires. He also probably cares and doesn’t care about the house because of his own waxing and waning lucidity. He’s also shown to be the most lucid of the Sawyers- running multiple businesses and interacting mostly normally with strangers, but at the same time his priorities and perceptions of the world are shown to be skewed in odd ways. He runs back in to turn the lights off with a hostage in his truck, he misunderstands Bubba’s infatuation with Stretch as her coming on to his little brother, and he thinks Lefty was sent by another catering business and could be payed off despite witnessing evidence of dozens of murders and witnessing their attempted murder of Stretch right at that moment. 

But, no matter what’s going on in his head, his inconsistency is going to create a very confusing and disorienting environment for his little brothers to grow up in. Consistency is very important in parenting- especially in children’s formative years. The younger Sawyers would have, in this time, dealt with both whatever changes took their parents out of the picture, and Drayton’s erratic behavior. Children with inconsistent parents are often more easily agitated, more anxious, and struggle more with regulating their emotions and behaviors than their peers. They have also been shown to have difficulty with self-doubt, self-esteem issues, and inconsistency in extreme cases can even impact a young person’s development of their identity.  Which, when coupled with the physical and verbal abuse they clearly endured, really didn’t give the younger Sawyers much of a chance. Much of this is very evident in the twins- they’re both easily agitated and seem to struggle with emotional and behavioral regulation. Bubba shows it too, but in different ways. He’s often anxious and seems to doubt himself when he’s left alone- as shown in the scene after he kills Jerry when he’s panicking and unsure of what to do. Bubba also, very famously, has identity issues that are explained in depth in Chainsaw Confidential and brought up in interviews. 

Of course there are aspects of these characters that explain these traits and behaviors- the brothers’ different disabilities coming to mind quickly- but I think even in situations where the primary reasoning for the behavior is something else, the impacts of Drayton’s inconsistent parenting style could come into play by exacerbating their existing issues. It also undoubtedly causes and worsens tension between Drayton and his brothers. With how inconsistent Drayton is, his brothers likely don’t know what behaviors will get them punished and what won’t- because it varies. Of course, there are some sure-fire ways to get punished, like disobeying something Drayton tells them directly- for instance Nubbins leaving behind Bubba and going to the graveyard. But other things, like Bubba cutting through the door in pursuit of Sally are more variable. Clearly Drayton wanted Bubba to catch all the kids no matter what- Bubba only manages to escape a beating after convincing Drayton he did. But, then in spite of the importance of letting no one get away, and Drayton’s general lack of care for their home- Drayton gets angry with Bubba for not taking pride in his home and starts berating him for that instead. This seems to be frustrating for Nubbins, who snaps at Drayton when he tries to stop them from tormenting Sally- saying he never lets them have any fun- and it seems to be frightening for Bubba- who cowers and tries to explain himself almost the moment Drayton walks through the door.Ultimately, Drayton’s inconsistent parenting style compounds on the problems the Sawyers have, entrenching them further and further in unhealthy behaviors and worsening the effects of his abuse. 

It’s sad, really, and more likely than not a manifestation of the cycle of abuse continuing its way down the Sawyer line. I don’t think its much of a reach to conclude that Drayton parents the way he does because that’s what he knows/ what he experienced to some degree. I’m not sure where to end this exactly. I wanna do some properly sourced and in depth analysis of them in the future, but tonight is not that night. I just had this idea in my head and needed to write it all down before it escaped me. I just think it’s sorrowful and fascinating the way that they never even had a chance.  

Source below is a study/ analysis of the effects of consistency in parenting I found useful when writing this. There’s a lot more literature on this, but this one condenses it pretty well. 

[artist-issues]

I’ve just come across your Wish analysis (which led to binge-reading loads of your other Disney rants, which I so loved reading and totally appreciated), and you’ve got me thinking. So please allow me to rant for a bit.

Flash back to when the live-action Beauty and the Beast came out. My friend loved it, raved about it for ages, and made me go see it with her. The original was my favourite childhood movie so I was excited for the new one… and subsequently disappointed to an extreme. I couldn’t put my finger on it for ages - just that there was a general feeling of wrongness I couldn’t explain (until I read your post and I was just like, “YES! THIS EXACTLY!”). My friend couldn’t understand it and would say things like, “I thought you said you liked Beauty and the Beast!” But I do like it, and that’s why I’m so upset how badly they missed the point.

It feels like that’s all Disney is doing these days: missing the point! Because it doesn’t matter how many times they give us a sassy girl with long hair and some vague magic skill that helps her in the third act! We want characters. As in, people who remind us of actual people! What makes Belle so charming and relatable? She’s polite when other people are rude, but firm when they push against her morals, and enjoys reading. A relatable female character is one who can be compared to other female characters. Belle on her own is just a girl who likes books, but against the motherly Mrs Potts who takes care of everyone, or the vain triplets who only want Gaston’s attention, she’s suddenly so much more real, and that’s what these new films are missing!

Anyway, I could go on and on about this, but I’m sorry because I didn’t mean for this to get so long or out-of-hand 😬

That is why you like it: that is why you’re upset; because you DO like the real Beauty & the Beast! Wonderful! Yes, you get it!

I think what makes Belle feel real is some of the raw emotion she shows—and how she shows it.

When living furniture puts on a light show, she gasped and claps and dances along. When the Beast asks her a romantic but loaded question, her first impulse is to say “yes!” but then she does double back and admit that she misses her father; she doesn’t have all her thoughts collected, exactly, but she is being honest. When wolves attack her, she screams. When she has to give up her life, she sobs on a bed. When she’s in a terrible situation, she does initially basically pout and refuse to leave her room. But when she’s being watched by others, she tries to be strong; she cries silently when she’s following the Beast to her room. She gives him her word with her back straight and her eyes closed all grave. Like I said, you can almost see her remembering stories she’s read of brave heroes giving solemn oaths, and she’s trying to be like them.

Emma Watson didn’t bring any of that.

She had to make the character too in-control of her own emotions even when outlandish or traumatic things are happening, because her idea of a “strong woman” can’t be delighted or horrified or fazed, in general, by anything st all. She made her as distant and unrelatable as any caricature. I mean, I remember very clearly the one and only moment I felt a glimmer of “that’s Belle!” in the movie, and it’s when Belle is given the library and the Beast leaves the room, and Emma Watson gives this excited little half-shriek of joy. And it’s like…where is that in the rest of the movie?

I can even find fault with that moment, too though. Because she waits till the Beast, the gift-giver, leaves the room before she really reacts that strongly. Why? The real Belle tells the Beast how wonderful she thinks it is, breathlessly, over the moon.

Because when someone gives you a gift, if you’re a self-protective, cool-calm demeanor feminist, you don’t let them see that they have any control over your emotions—not even the ability to impress you or make you happy with a crazy gift.

But, instead, if you’re a selfless woman, who is happy to share her emotions with others especially when it brings them joy, you have no trouble showing that a crazy gift delights and impresses you. It’s part of the gratitude/

Anyway! I could go on and on. But don’t let anybody get it twisted. You do like Beauty and the Beast. You just happen to know what Beauty and the Beast really is, and why you like it.

[moonlightseve]

hi hi I enjoy your analysis posts so much!! do you have any thoughts on the undercurrent of performance that runs throughout yuri on ice - re Victor ' 'performance' nikiforov (contrasted with yuuri's (and yurio, eventually) absence of a persona while skating) and the whole episode 3 premise of the trio trying to perform an emotion until it clicks (highlighting yuuri's eros monologue arc specifically) while the program itself is constructed by someone who at that point doesn't fully comprehend the extent of the emotion he puts into the sp. not to forget the performance inherent to sport in and of itself! sorry if this doesn't make any sense I hope you're having a good day tysm for reading!!

Hello, I hope your day is going well too! It was wonderful to wake up and see your ask in my inbox xxx

Oh boy, of course I have thoughts. I spent a little while trying to figure out how to condense all of them, but no matter what I do it seems like this post is going to be pretty long.

As you said, Viktor can certainly be very performative, which we see throughout the show as he reminisces about his career and tries to discover what role Yuuri expects him to play. He doesn’t show emotion unless he has to and he’s very concerned with his image – always going out of his way to interact with fans (and scolding Yuuri when he doesn’t do the same). He has a persona of sorts, putting on the air of Viktor Nikiforov: Living Legend, 5-time GPF Champion, 5-time Worlds Champion, Olympian, etc etc. There is little room in his life for him to simply be himself, instead shelving his own wants and desires to embrace the idea of who he thinks he’s supposed to be. 

On the ice, however, is a completely different story. This is where I veer off partially into headcanon because we unfortunately don’t know much about Viktor’s backstory (curse you Mappa!!!), so I need to speculate a bit. I have always viewed Viktor as someone who feels things quite deeply. He’s very passionate and emotional, but has incredible self-control and keeps himself reigned in. The ice is where he lets that go a bit, allowing himself to feel what he feels and express it through his skating. 

Evidence for this is present in how he choreographs and selects the music for his routines, giving him full creative control and the chance to embrace whatever he feels he will do best with. Stammi Vicino is heartbreaking, and lonely, and desperate – all things I would likely associate with Viktor at the beginning of the series. 

It’s present in how he coaches, always falling back on his own experiences as a skater to guide Yuuri and Yurio. When he begins to give advice, he tends to reflect on how Yakov coached him rather than coming up with something entirely new that better serves the different personalities of the Yuris. This implies to the audience that all of his attempts to get Yuri-squared to connect with the emotion at the heart of their short programs is how he himself worked on his programs. 

It’s present in one of my favorite Viktor quotes from the entire show, a little moment in episode 2 or 3 where Yurio is frustrated with Agape and trying to get Viktor to tell him what’s wrong, and Viktor says something along the lines of “It’s an emotion, why would I bother trying to explain it in words?” The feelings he presents on the ice are just that: feelings. They are important to him and sometimes indescribable, a little window into the truth of who he is that he keeps closely guarded at all other times. 

Viktor off the ice knows when to smile for the cameras and flash a wink to the crowd, keeping his image perfectly tailored to the one he wants to present. Viktor on the ice is able to let the artifice fade away and become, for just a moment, wholly himself. He would never tell anyone that he is lonely, but he skates Stammi Vicino as if it’s an extension of himself. 

The point you brought up regarding the fact that Viktor choreographed routines for emotions he may not understand is SO interesting to me because I have never even considered it! I think about Viktor a lot, and switch between two opposing ideas of him depending on how I’m feeling that day:

Viktor has known unconditional love, whether through his parents (I pretty firmly believe his family was not active in his life) or through Yakov (one of my favorite headcanons) or through Makkachin, even. Makkachin may not be quite the same thing, but he may not know any better and is therefore using that as his inspiration. Or, maybe he feels unconditional love for something/someone else. 

Viktor does not know unconditional love. He has never had anyone who could give him that, which is why Yuuri is very important and such a big deal and he needed to get on a plane to Japan IMMEDIATELY!!!

Depending on which of these you subscribe to (or a secret third option, perhaps) then Viktor’s ability to choreograph Yuri and Yuuri’s short programs is very interesting. He truly seems to have a grasp on Eros and Agape in a way that Yuri-squared struggles with. Since he encourages them to feel those emotions deeply in order to skate them correctly and those routines were originally for him, it means he must feel them deeply enough to think them worthy of creating and presenting to the world. 

So that’s how I view Viktor. When he is skating, he is not a performer, but a performance – the entertainment he produces is not the end goal, it merely comes from watching him be himself. And that authenticity is what makes him such a wonderful skater. 

Yuuri’s battle starts with him NEEDING to perform something (the tale of the katsudon fatale, how could we ever forget) and ends with him finally being able to draw upon himself for his skate. Creating some sort of narrative and slipping into a persona helps get him off the ground, but it’s really like a set of training wheels Viktor tries to get him to shed as their story progresses. It’s why his Yuri on Ice free skate is so important to his journey as a skater – there’s nothing for him to perform, just him being himself. To properly execute the program, he must be Yuuri, aware of the journey he has taken and each iteration he has been, mastering all of it to embrace who he is now. It must be less of a performance and more of a confession to those watching. 

Yurio’s Agape is so powerful for the same reasons! It’s because it comes from his own personal experiences with his grandpa, who he loves dearly. He needs to embrace that softer side of himself that he hides behind the prickly angsty exterior to truly do his program justice. 

“We call everything on the ice love” is very important because on the ice is when a skater’s truths must emerge. This is when they are most authentically themself, and when love therefore shines the brightest. 

I hope I answered your questions, and I’m sorry if I got a bit rambly there at any point! This was a very fun topic to discuss and if anyone has any thoughts I’d love to hear them. I have this account because I have things that I love that I want to share with other people and to hear about the things they love in turn, so it genuinely makes my day when I get to do that.

Thank you for the ask!

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #176

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

He's gonna be Frank with you. Read the rest of The Frank Program here on Tumblr!

Last time on The Frank Program, Frank caught Daryl watching something on his phone during recording, and he didn't like what he saw.

Daryl exploded out the door to the parking lot, anger in his stride, fear in his posture, and tears in his eyes. Chad, leaning on a car, got up immediately when he saw the kid running off.

“Hey!” He called out. Daryl wasn’t stopping for anything.

Cautiously, Chad poked his head back inside. Frank was stoic, silent in his host’s seat, a lit cigarette in his left hand. He took a drag from it and sighed out a puff of smoke.

“Come in, Mr. Graves. We oughtta finish the show.”

“You alright, bud?”

There were bags under Frank’s eyes that Chad didn’t recall seeing before. “I’m plenty content to finish recording.”

Graves sat down in his chair. The corner behind him was conspicuously empty. The chair which had been there before sat askew and on its side at the other end of the room.

“You know, Mr. Graves -”

“You can just call me Chad.”

“Well, Chad…” Frank took another hit. “I ain’t touched a cigarette in ten years. Kept this one in the studio just to prove to myself I didn’t need it.” He chuckled. “Funny how I keep proving myself wrong, huh?”

“How’s that?”

“Oh, the usual. I think o’ someone as a friend, or a wife, or… or a son. And I come to find they never were, really. They stab me in the goddamn back.”

“I take it that your chat didn’t go too well?”

Frank sneered. “You have no idea.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around. You know teenagers, I mean… I remember when I was a teenager, I got in arguments with my parents all the time.”

“We’re no stranger to arguments, Chad. This is somethin’ else. I’m losing my boy.”

“What exactly happened?”

Frank huffed and smothered his cigarette in the ashtray. “We better get back to my prepared questions.”

“Yeah…” Chad nodded slowly. “Alright.”

Frank shuffled through pages, looking for a question he still felt like asking. “Uh… Do you and your friends ever have creative differences when working on the show?”

“I don’t think we’d be as effective at doing our jobs if we did. Really, all four of us try to stay out of the creative side of things most of the time. Our producer decides what the story is for a given episode. He takes our full night of footage, and our analysis of the findings, and he gives that to his editor to make the pieces fit together.”

“Does the show replicate the experience of actually bein’ there, do ya think?”

“To be honest with you, I don’t usually watch it. Kind of a ‘been there, done that’ situation. But I have been channel surfing before and caught a rerun from a few years ago, and it definitely brought back memories.”

“Well that’s nice. Nice to have something to look back on. I guess I’ve got that too, huh? A little piece of the past… to bring back memories.”

“Yeah, I guess so. The nice thing about the show is it cuts out all the boring bits. The parts where we’re just sitting around, whispering to each other like we’re trying not to wake up the parents at a sleepover.”

“Right,” Frank said, a lump in his throat. “Those are the parts you really miss when they’re gone.”

Chad tilted his head to look around his microphone. “It’s gonna be okay, Frank. He’ll -”

“Mr. Graves, I don’t want another grown man to see me cry. So thank you for being here, but I must be signing off. Go ahead and tell the people where to find you.”

“I’m on all the socials as @GravesGhostVisions, so just search that up if you want to see where we’re headed next.”

“Thank you. This has been The Frank Program…” Frank struggled to get the words out without letting tears come with. “So long.”

[phoenix-fell]

Hi! I enjoyed your analysis. Hope you don't mind the ask. In the post you talked about alternating between background and foreground, what background scenes do you think are particularly worth paying attention to? Starting to realize how much Ive overlooked lol.

Thanks! And of course, happy to receive asks! Good question, there's a few I could name and there's some scenes that are technically 'foreground' but are extremely understated - like the close-up of Blake's sword but here's a few:

My favourite background moments to note, is a scene in 'Creation' - Vol 8 - where Penny is becoming human, there's a huge flash of light. Ruby and Weiss cover their own eyes, turning their bodies away. Whereas, positioned in front of the 'camera' (but not the focus), Blake and Yang immediately turn into each other, Yang placing a protective arm around Blake and shielding them both with her other arm. When the camera pulls away to show them in the background, Yang's arm is still around her and it shows Blake wrapping her arm around Yang too. The camera begins to focus on Penny, with the two of them stood comfortably looking on with their arms round each other. It's so easy to miss, especially the latter part, but I love the way they're framed together and is just such a nice little background inclusion as it shows an active choice to animate these two doing something differently to Weiss and Ruby.

Another one that's often overlooked is in 'Fault', Vol 8, the infamous "Yeah...Ruby..." line from Yang - the screen focuses on the part of the bike she's fixing and looking at before she initiates that conversation with Jaune, which is purple, and likely what prompted her to think of Blake.

There's also scenes, particularly in Volumes 7/8 as the cast grows, where lines are added in to imply off-screen developments they don't have time to show on-screen, such as:

"Have you guys ever thought about branching out - you always pair up but...." - Marrow, in Sparks, Vol 7, which is used to imply that they're spending more time together without showing it, partnering up on all their missions.

"Blake and Yang are off doing their own thing... Again." - Nora, in A Night Off, Vol 7. Marrow implied they're spending all their time together at work, Nora heavily implies that they're spending a lot of time together outside of work - likely to banish the notion that it's just a 'I just want to fight by her side' type of arrangement.

This one's much smaller, but in Risk - Vol 8 - after Ironwood has announced his ultimatum, Yang tells Ruby, "you know, that hound kicked us around like we were nothing, but Blake told me that you and the Schnees managed to take it down..." Simple, but just having Yang slot in that, somewhere offscreen after their Beeunion, she and Blake have caught up about their time apart. Later in this episode, once Ruby expresses hope in the form of a new plan, the camera pans out to show them all together in a circle. Everyone's focused on Ruby who had just spoken, except for Ren and Nora who look to each other, and Blake who honest to god looks like a sunflower following the sun as she just turns to beam at an oblivious Yang. I don't tend to place too much emphasis on two characters who are often in scenes together looking at each other, but there's something about the Renora parallel that stood out to me, especially as everyone else is very still - it was a choice to animate her this way. Blake's often shown staring at Yang, notably whenever something good happens and she's happy, or when she needs comfort/is worried.

Lastly, my three other on-screen understated favourites are:

This one is in 'As Above, So Below' Vol 7. They use parallels between these two and Renora often, the scene directly before this one is Nora comforting Ren by holding his hand, then pans to these two. Yang looking worried (as Ren did), then just a subtle smile from Blake and shared look between the two as they relax. Notably, they're sitting opposite Ren and Nora; showing how the two pairs 'mirror' one another.

Another 'blink and you'll miss it' (but not the BB fans! We see all) is in 'Worthy' Vol 8. Immediately after Yang falls and Blake was unable to catch her, we can see Blake's body almost entirely off the platform and Weiss having to pull her back up. The strong implication being that Blake was ready to willingly dive into the void after her. (I make no apologies for the fact that the screenshot looks like Neo is nudging Weiss' butt off the platform).

And lastly, who could forget this absolute screamer. It's a popular and iconic scene now, but you'd be forgiven if you didn't see Yang checking Blake out the first time in 'A Night Off' Volume 7.

But to add a little bit more into the 'background' notion of the scene that not a lot of people seem to talk about: Weiss is deciding what she wants to do. Three 'options' are presented to the audience, but only two invitations are extended to the team. Ruby explicitly invites Weiss to the party, Jaune invites Weiss to the movies... But earlier in the scene, Ruby asks what Blake and Yang are doing and it's met with a matter-of-fact statement that they had been invited out, but extend no invite, no cordial 'if you want in' or 'come along' to any of their teammates. These two are very much presented as being completely in their own bubble separate from the rest of the team.

Sorry this ended up so long!! I should have just made a separate post on background analysis and parallels because I have stuff from earlier volumes. I just love these two! Anyway, I hope this helped and hope you enjoyed!

[koscheicore]

More doctor/master analysis from classic to tensimm ahead because they're sending me

Long post ahead ofc

THINKING OF THEM AGAIN... I still have a lot of the 3rd Doctor's last season left to watch (starting the sea devils now) and all of decayed!master but.

It seems to me so far that 3 is really clinging to this friend he knew yk? As compared to 5 later.

3 enjoys the presence of the Master and wishes to see him again, and of course it's been so long since he saw his friend from his home planet. You can see this from his body language, the closeness they convey, how he thinks he knows him. Damn he outright expresses with words several times that he hopes to see him again. He's fascinated by him still. Idk how things will develop but it seems to me he thinks he knows him so well and that these evil schemes are just little games, situations for him to solve, but he is realising how far he's gone and that it's not that much about him. The Master really wants power and universal control and ultimately doesn't mind who dies in the process. The Master even offers him this power. The differences between them and their worldview and wants are strengthened with every episode I watch. And yeah at first it's like... 3 is done with being trapped on Earth, he does want to protect this planet but he doesn't mind that much if this is their playground it's even *fun*. As the episodes progress he seems to snap out of that a bit. 3 loves his friend. 3 has issues reconciling this fascination with the fact that he's not a person he agrees with anymore, the direct opposition to his values. Even when 3 traps him in a time loop he's got the hope he'll survive and escape, he trusts he will, I doubt he made that too hard for him because no, he doesn't want him gone.

Flash foward to Keeper of Traken/Logopolis (I haven't watched any of 4 except for this so yeah I'm missing lots of context) but from what I remember 4 is already so done with the Master. By here he's realised he's irredeemable. Lost cause. He seems really pissed off at him whilst the Master is clearly having a lot of fun here. Then he is finally fucking mURDERED by the Master, who has tried to steal his body and who knows what else (not me. others reading will. I shall know eventually). The Master manages to get a new body but also to almost destroy the entire universe. Holds it at ransom just to get control of it. Destroys Nyssa's home planet. Murders Tegan's aunt. Plays with the Doctor's companions as if they were his very disposable chess pieces. Nah the Doctor is so fucking done with this guy now. He messed up with his regeneration and that was a really scary one. He thought he might fail to and finally die. The Master still makes a little town for him to recover only to, when he does, attempt to murder him again. Nope he's insane.

Fivey realises he doesn't want him anymore. He is a threat to the Universe as a whole. He's not happy to see him around. He's repressing a lot of shit here too, he's been hurt, his loved ones too, deliberately, just so the Master could see him suffer? Just so he could prove his values were... weak? To prove that owning and controlling the Universe is what one should strive for because survival of the strongest? Many see fivey as this nice one, but he let him burn in a fire. Not without remorse, but he did. Fivey does show his anger, his hurt, how he's been betrayed.

BUT he also knows him way more than 3 does! He can trust him partially in the Five Doctors whilst 3 can't because he knows the Master wants to show HIM he's right, he wants HIM to suffer and he wants HIM to try and stop him. Delgado might have wanted to show the Doctor he's right too, but he didn't do it with such an obsessive passion and focus towards showing the Doctor specifically, he wanted to build his power, he was rather playful, but he wasn't so obsessed that he'd foil his own plans just to show the Doctor. Fivey has accepted that the Master is irredeemable. He trusts his word a bit merely because of his attitude, his lack of prepared elaborate scheme, his lack of passion and joy regarding his demise, not because he believes he can do good. The good intentions is what he refers to as "impossible" I think. And still can't trust him fully because well. What if it is acting all along, what if it is indeed part of a plan? Anyways... Fivey knows him but he's angry and has lost any hope in recovering his friend, really. He resorts to not helping him so he can see how much he's let him down, and to call him out on his actions, on his warped sense of justice. He doesn't know how to handle him anymore.

And if you take the "Master" audio as canon, then we get 7 trying to "fix" him. First trying to give him the opportunity to not suffer when he's decayed, then seeking that goodness desperately. He wants to help his friend. He wants him to live and he wants him back, but not evil. He sees that he is capable of good. There's a lot to talk about this audio and I won't get into Death and stuff rn but...

So pretty much this grieving process

...10 trying to "fix" the Master, to save him, after seeing how good and in line with his values Professor Yana was... After all that his past incarnations saw of him he's seen him be how he wishes him to be twice, and he tries to save him, because he knows him so well, yes he does! He knows him so well! He knows there's good in him! He's not that angry anymore, he's desperate to get this friendship back, now there's the time war and the time lords are not there to order anyone to go save the other or to interfere at all, and they're the last two. There's his saviour complex. And he thinks he knows him so much. He could be beautiful they could be beautiful. He's also dangerously becoming more. The Master must be doing all of this to keep playing games, to have control, he must be as obsessed with him as he was, yeah he does atrocities but maybe it doesn't matter that much anymore, maybe he'll stop, maybe he can get his friend back, he's clearly doing this for his attention, right? If he can win this one game and show him...! Only for Simm to say no you don't know me, you have never, and finally, I win. The way I can win is by dying. I will never be who you want me to. And I want you to suffer.

My friend is back I love him but he's evil, I don't like who he's become. -> He's too evil and can't be good and I don't know what to do. Maybe he does deserve to die? I can't get my friend back. I really can't. -> No actually let's try. He can be good. Maybe if he wasn't suffering. -> He HAS been good. I can save him. I can have him back. -> AAAAAAAAAAA

I could continue but. Another day

AND THAT WAS GAY.

[freackthejester]

I've had this same tumblr since late June 2012, and I am now basically 30. U do the math. I settled on a initial bio that I like so much, I am loathe to change it and the My Little Pony reference in it a decade later.

Here is a collection of the tags I use regularly:

I Say Stuff - every original post is tagged with this

spn - i tag most of my supernatural(2005- 2020) related posts w/ this so ppl can block 50% of what I post here

supernatural - this is the tag I use for my original posts about the show. I am a fan of the fandom and the meta analysis of the show more than I enjoy watching the show, so I personally think my collection of takes is good takes.

Kneat Knits - I follow the knitting tag and reblog a lot of the cooler handmade knit projects that I come across. it became my catch-all tag for any kind of string craft, which I am very into.

my stupid face - is the #gpoy tag I made up years ago that I'm stuck w/ bc too lazy to do a tag>search>replace, so>is still my #selfie tag . I look great, go forth

gloriously excessive landsharks - I like cars of a very specific sort. Here is the tag

Star Trek - JK I never got good at tagging the fandom in posts its all a mess

gif art - catchall tag for my own artistic digital creations, it's like woah in there some flashing gifs in that section

the simpsons - yeah that was a thing

Homestuck - My original fandom on this website.

My url Freack the Jester is a reference to my HS classpect (Jester of Hope) and a made up internet name from when you needed those.

My first URL was Freack the Hopeful, but there was a tragic bot-stealing-your-url-while-you-have-a-holiday-url incident, and I decided to pretty much never change my URL again for link-preservation reasons.

Anyway, this is my new pinned post, I am the swamp hag who only cares about fiction mankissing bisexualasexualcommiedetransitionedbluecolar dyke of your nightmares it's a tumblr blog we all have better places to be lets go

[mauesartetc]

I think that overall your criticism of Stolitz is valid, but Ive seen some people claim that Blitzo took advantage of Stolas during their first sexual encounter since Stolas had drunk beforehand, which I find ridiculous. What's your opinion on it? Personally I find its bullshit, as Stolas had no problems communicating what he wanted and was completely lucid. Being drunk doesnt equal incapable of consent

CW: Alcohol (I’ll explain this at the end of the post)

Yeah see this is where the visual medium of animation comes into play. First of all, there's a difference between being tipsy and full-on plastered, and different people have different levels of tolerance to alcohol. True, Stolas drank a substantial amount of absinthe, but neither the animation nor the line delivery indicated it had any effect on him. He never slurs his words, never wobbles or swerves as he walks down the hallway, never blushes except when he's aroused, and never acts particularly drowsy or lightheaded. Importantly, he never does anything he wouldn't do when he was sober. That sexually eager, expletive-spewing version of Stolas we see on the bed? We've seen that Stolas before, and he hadn't had a drop of liquor then.

If the episode had actually shown us Stolas was even a LITTLE drunk on that occasion, the argument that Blitzo "took advantage of him" would hold more water. But as it stands, the evidence just isn't there.

And one thing about consent for these commenters to keep in mind: Yes, adding alcohol to sexual situations can make things dicey. But consent isn't just about respecting the "no"; it's about getting an enthusiastic "yes", which Stolas freely gave to Blitzo (hell, he shouted it so loudly I'm surprised no one at the party heard it). If he were too inebriated to say anything, that would've been a serious problem.

Also, it's a stretch to say Blitzo "took advantage" of Stolas, as the phrase implies some sort of attraction on his part. He only had sex with Stolas out of pity. He was fully prepared to leave before Stolas called him his "first-ever friend", then he sighs in frustration and says "Alright, fine. I can do this real fast", as if he were finally getting around to a household chore he hated. It's clear he was never attracted to Stolas; he was just a means to an end. The flash-forward scene reinforces this, as Stolas scrolls through photos on his phone and sees one of Blitzo next to him, looking wholly disinterested.

If these folks supported their argument with examples from the episode, okay, fine. Otherwise I can only assume they've made a huge logical leap from what the story presented to the distorted scenario they fabricated from next to nothing. This is what happens when people don't give themselves space to absorb what the media they enjoy is actually telling them. They don't engage; they only consume. And this isn't some obscure symbolic shit either. This kind of analysis only requires basic observation skills. "Oh, looks like the absinthe didn't affect him much." "Oh, he's really enthusiastic about this encounter."

Come on, people. Use your brains.

(Note: I didn't use Tumblr's new "drug and alcohol addiction" slider for this post, as it doesn't discuss addiction per se, just some common effects of being drunk. However, I included content warning tags for anyone who needs them, and if anyone's really struggling with the subject and would like me to use the slider, I'll gladly oblige. There are also some sexual themes here, but mentions of sex are pretty minimal, consensual, and non-explicit.)

[solarpunkpresentspodcast]

Fantasy, feminism, and philosophy

Recently, I picked up two novels published in the late 1980s by CJ Cherryh. I’ve been avoiding reading books since I finished my dissertation, as the act of opening a physical book seems a little too reminiscent of work, no matter the content - I’ve been enjoying audiobooks, but find it more difficult to listen to fiction than non-fiction, and so my consumption of published material has been skewed one way for several years.

I decided to break that cycle by returning to one of my pre-teen loves, which I read voraciously: high fantasy, the kind of novels with swords and sorcery right there on the cover, in all their pulpy ‘80s glory. I am a fast reader and can finish a ~250-page novel in an evening, given few interruptions, so long as I am hooked. I was looking for that hook.

I found it! And one other book by the same author, which I thought was high fantasy, but turns out to have a science-fiction, world-hopping backdrop. But I also am now armed with a lot more knowledge of feminist theory and the rise of women’s and feminist fiction* (well, science fiction) during the ‘70s and ‘80s, and so I found myself reading with an eye to the representation of women and a constant feminist narrative analysis going in the back of my brain (don’t be sorry; it was rad as hell). It takes a lot more for me to be satisfied with a narrative these days, and it’s not necessarily any sort of literary snobbery on my part, although I do consider myself to have higher standards now. I will read the pulpiest genre fic that I can find, but I will only truly recommend it if I find something redeeming in it - and not just plot and characters. I’m looking for a specific kind of feminist philosophy in the narrative.

Seems like a lot to ask from genre fiction, right? But to me (and to scholars in the entire discipline of English literature going back centuries), stories aren’t just stories: they’re vehicles embodying cultural attitudes and messages about the way the world works. Even a hastily-written piece of flash fiction will still contain the author’s biases and worldview in it, from the characters, the plot, and down to the words they choose to use (or avoid). Science fiction are stories (often) told in the future, but they are actually about present issues; fantasy are likewise stories (often) told in the past, but they reflect the author’s (and audience’s) view of and struggles within the present.**

And so I couldn’t help thinking, as I was reading, about my thesis’s second chapter, which was all about gender and post-apocalyptic science fiction during feminism’s second wave, because I think there’s a fair amount of those conclusions which are cross-applicable to fantasy from the same period.*** Not to put too fine a point on it, but post-apocalyptic sf is itself a fantastical narrative, and though it’s not “fantasy” as we think of the genre, it certainly draws from some of the same imaginative sources.

Some background

I’m gonna try to keep this brief, not least because others have written on it better and more comprehensively. In 17th century Europe, the Western scientific enterprise as we know it today was coalescing, and unfortunately for all subsequent practitioners of science, the values of 17th century European cismales were hard-coded into the philosophy underpinning the scientific worldview. Hence fun things like scientific racism, eugenics, devaluing animals and nature, and sexism, which keeps cropping up throughout the subsequent centuries, and is also what I’m going to focus on now.

You know what else was happening in 17th century Europe? Witch hunts. I’ll spare you a history lesson about it but in short, that’s the background cultural context of what was going on at the time. The milieu of misogyny, you might say. Carolyn Merchant, who wrote a pretty foundational ecofeminist text tracing this history, points to the writings of Francis Bacon as instrumental in advocating for “the control of nature for human benefit” in which he “used the language of nature as female to articulate an experimental philosophy that would extract nature's secrets.” (ENVIRONMENTALISM: FROM THE CONTROL OF NATURE TO PARTNERSHIP, 4).

Merchant argues that scientific discourse about nature codified the gender of nature as a female to be exploited, inviting abusive interrogation much in the same way as a torture victim on trial for witchcraft; her link between women’s persecution and the ramping-up of the exploitation of nature is echoed by socialist ecofeminists such as philosopher Val Plumwood in articulating the fundamentally misogynist underpinnings of a rationalist economics system that glorifies a separation of (masculine) intellectual reason from denigrated (feminine) bodily situatedness. Thus developed a scientific ethic that saw no problem with manipulation and use of the earth to satisfy scientific curiosity and capitalist gain within a patriarchal system of society.

Still with me? The female-nature connection in western culture is actually a lot older than 17th century, but before the industrial revolution there was emphasis on the mystery and power of nature and the life-giving capacity of women, which inspired respect or, at least, fond feelings for a “Mother Nature”. This crops up a lot in a lot of fantasy narratives, by the way, since most of them are set in a pre-industrialized past and also in some post-apocalyptic sf that assumes a catastrophe of some sort will set humanity back a millennia or two and with it will come this older worldview. Merchant argues that this older attitude served as a “cultural constraint” on the actions of human beings, since “[o]ne does not readily slay a mother, dig into her entrails for gold or mutilate her body” (Death 3). The advent of the industrial era and of scientific inquiry was made possible not just by advances in technology but in a philosophical shift in attitude to view feminine nature as inviting—and deserving—of violation by scientific and technological enterprises - which were, of course, male-coded.

Feminist critiques of (old) feminist fantasies

These two different attitudes - let’s call them the science fiction (post-17th century) and fantasy (pre-17th century) attitudes - aren’t as different as they might seem at first glance. Both adhere to an essentialist logic that is hierarchical, valuing “masculine civilization/culture” as inherently superior to “feminine nature.” I’m just going to mostly quote my thesis in the next two paragraphs here:

Essentialism understands “the feminine” as a repository of unchanging truths, determining substances, and ground of being, quite literally: it holds the historical European cultural conflation of women and nature as truth, and radical feminist political thought (and many feminist utopian fantasies) of the 1970s leaned into this binary, but flipped the moral hierarchy. Publications such as Mary Daly’s Gyn/Ecology: The Metaethics of Radical Feminism (1978) and Starhawk’s The Spiral Dance (1979), for example, embraced the identification of non-human nature and the feminine, celebrating the power of chthonic forces, the moon, fertility, and historical goddess worship. Radical, goddess, and other essentialist feminisms drew on deep ecology, following the same binary logic as Francis Bacon did, but reversing the moral weighting, holding the “male” forces of civilization, culture, and science as bad, or at least incredibly sus, given their collaboration with/outright endorsement of the systematic oppression/torture of women and the earth, if not the very reason for women’s suffering. Ciswomen’s bodies, traditionally the reason for their exclusion from cismale-only spiritual and intellectual spheres, were instead celebrated by some feminists as the ground of human life and part of the mystery of creation itself. ***

Feminist community based on an essentialist notion of cisfemale experience was and is a fantasy that, in addition to being violently exclusionary to trans and genderqueer persons and invested in creating and maintaining a distance between ciswomen and all others, at base replicates the same power structures that fuel patriarchal ideology, only with the values reversed. There is still a hierarchy in place, a flipped version of the fantasy attitude: there is the same conflation of women with nature and its consequent essentialist logic. Female empowerment is crucial to the realization of women’s full humanity, but its celebration at the expense of others leads directly to an ideology of exclusion, perpetuating the structures of oppression that make it necessary for female empowerment in the first place.

For example, some questions that bubble up when I encounter certain stories ask things like, Is this lady knight actually a strong female character, or a vehicle for a male power fantasy with a ciswoman subbed in and nothing else changed? Is this story about a witch/sorceress/magick-user main character really compelling, or is it subject to tropes from both the science fiction and fantasy attitudes, so she is either an evil conniving force to be subjugated (or romanced, depending on flavour) or a mystical feminine cipher in touch with the natural world…. or both? Both happens a lot.

In my thesis, I have a whole paragraph following those paragraphs on essentialism to disclaim that I’m not dissing the enormous contributions of many writers to fantasy whose works completely upended the hierarchical gender binary, boldly challenged gender roles, and stomped all around a genre that up until the ‘70s was almost exclusively made up of male writers. I’m convinced that we’re politically and socioculturally in those authors’ debt! I’m just skeptical of the fantasy genre because of the abovementioned history of the fantasy attitude. In my view, it takes an author who has an attitude (fantasy OR science fiction) that is consciously disloyal to its own roots in essentialist, sexist nonsense to write a narrative that isn’t fundamentally regressive.

Moar, tho…

It’s nice to fantasize about a world where the people whose gender that we identify with are pedestalized, taken care of, comforted, respected, given the benefit of the doubt, empowered, etc. Especially in this day and age when the demands of neoliberalism and late-stage capitalism pile up into an exhausting, overwhelming, threatening force against which it feels impossible to stand alone. Escaping into a world where powerful women are actually respected and can make tangible change in the world (through politics, or magic, or swinging a big sword around) is pretty great.

But it’s not wrong to demand more of our narratives. It’s not wrong to be critical of something that you love (I often joke that it’s the things that I love most that get the most harsh criticism). It’s not wrong to ask that the stories that I read articulate a non-binary, non-hierarchical society that people of all genders can move freely in, instead of being expected to act a certain way (and punished if they don’t perfectly conform).***** Flipping the gender hierarchy just isn’t enough anymore and isn’t even all that feminist, in the end.

In any case, I can highly recommend the work of CJ Cherryh; I think even thirty-five-odd years on, it still holds up because of the way she writes her characters, regardless of gender or age, as human beings and not essentialist tropes. I’m not surprised she won the Hugo, multiple times. She seems to have an underlying philosophy that values humans for who they are, not who they are supposed to be dependent on their predetermined roles in society.

What are some fantasy novels you would recommend? I’m not a huge short-story reader, and I’m a fan of wordplay and have spent the last eight years or so thinking about novels written by and for people living in the 1950s-80s. I need some good contemporary stuff! Or perhaps there are classics I am missing out on? Let me know in the comments!

PS: I’m indebted to the works of Donna Haraway, Celia Åsberg, Myra Hird, Helen Merrick, Élisabeth Vonarburg, Joanna Russ, Carolyn Merchant, Lisa Hogeland, and way too many others to list for influencing the direction of my ruminations here. Any issues are a result of my taking research on historical Canadian SF and bending it to apply to fantasy. ___

*They aren’t the same. It’s akin to assuming all Jewish people are Zionists. One is an identity category, the other a political one.

**Caveat: I’m not saying authors of sff sit down and are like “ah yes what issue griefing me right now am i going to put into this book” - it’s usually a subconscious thing. Sometimes authors do that! But it’s rare.

***Again, they aren’t the same: I’m not a scholar of fantasy, merely an observant fan who has a bit of a scholarly background in another genre literature.

**** This attitude is alive and well today in the politics of trans-exclusive radical feminists (TERFs), a subgroup of radical feminists whose reification of biological essentialism leads them to deny trans peoples’ identities. Fuck TERFs. Their philosophical worldview is warped.

******It’s also not wrong to love something even though it’s Problematic (tm), or just want to turn your brain off with a fluffy read. So long as you’re self-aware.

[measuringbliss]

Baring Peter Parker: The Ditko era (1/3) - The Tie Symbolism

MASTERPOST

This post was slightly edited on 22.12.2023.

Does Peter Parker appear as sexually enticing from the get-go? What's the matter with his tie? Why is issue #17 so important?

Let's say these are compendiums of my observations. Sometimes there's analysis, and sometimes it's just things I remark on.

Note: When I say stuff like "masculine", "virile" and "feminine", I assume a classical, uncomplicated view of gender as "men fight, women cook". These comics *were* made in the Sixties, after all.

#1/2/3

The panel where Peter puts on his costume and is midway through his stomach is a classic of the comics and comes back again and again. It's featured pretty much in every issue.

As a civilian, he's usually featured in a classic suit: loose pants, sometimes bare forearms, it's not really erotic as much as functional.

I'd argue the end of #6 is the first time Peter's shown in an enticing manner. He's shown sewing his suit a few times beforehand, but here, he's sprawling on a couch and enjoying himself in a way the comics haven't shown until then. His collar is open, contrary to his work attire, he's resting his foot.

#7 features for the first time a close shot on Peter's hand. I wouldn't exactly say it's glamorized, but it's not bad on the eyes either.

It also features an interesting scene where Peter is in a position of weakness: he's visibly worried (along with the regular sewing scenes, it makes Peter more personable to the female audience), he's sneaking out the way you'd see in teen movies, but whereas in those, the guys sneaking out are usually shown as mischievous and eager to go out, Peter is shown as genuinely worried the way girls should have been. Different socialization directions! Of course, the fact Peter has been raised by his aunt (and uncle, but we never see much of him) probably explains in part how much of Peter's feminine side is shown. And as I said, his feminine side makes him approachable. See the way he's holding his jacket in the middle panel of the last row, it's almost like a woman covering her breasts from the audience. His sprained arm in the same issue is just more of this: he's not the all-strong, virile, macho hero (at least, not yet, we'll see more of that in the following era).

In #8, Peter is challenged to a boxing match by Flash, and they both wear very short shorts, as expected in those events. This is the first time Peter is depicted wearing so little, and it's obviously to showcase his strength. Interestingly, he's the one bridal-carrying a knocked-out Flash at the end in a quite obviously homoerotic pose. Also interestingly, no female character comments on Peter's body. He's not objectified in-narrative. It's my own gaze that makes it -(homo)erotic.

#9 also features several interesting things. Similarly to #6, Peter's shown looking casual (middle panel), but this time, he's topless, although he still wears suit pants. There's something adorably youthful in Peter's pose in the next panel, something that rarely see after that and that I don't recall ever seeing in Romita Sr. or Conway's eras. In the fourth panel, Peter's wearing a tee for the first time. The artist try new things. It's simple, but Peter's arms are flexed. Compared to the previous issue's virility, here, it's much more balanced.

In #10, Peter gets a blood test and the sleeve thing is back. Later in the same issue, he's briefly held against a much bigger man, and there are two things to note:

First, Peter's suit contrasts with the rowdy treatment he receives. Second, his tie. His tie's important! It's out, flowing desperately, it showcases Peter's panic and his struggle with hiding his heroic self. And once he gets in control of his emotions, he fixes it. Naturally, what you can do with ties is also pull at them, undo them. I'd say these panels are very interesting. I hope we see more of Peter's tie acting up. Think about what a tie symbolizes and what it points at.

In the same issue, you can see a callback to Peter spraying on a couch--but this time, he's quite bothered.

The cover of #12 is quite curious as well. Peter's not showing a feat of strength, he's being possessed by Dr. Octopus, held by his long tentacles, on his back, limbs dangling over the floor, unmasked and humiliated in front of civilians. It's similarly to Romita's first tenure a few years later, in that Peter's in a typically feminine position.

Later in that issue, Peter is sick, a "poor boy" (and offers the gazers his feet, if they care). His feminine traits are fine as long as he's still young. That's not to say that Peter lacks masculine attributes; he's also often rash and a dumbass (aren't we all?).

Note his clumsiness in #13 (two plates in minutes, Peter!) and subsequent submissive position as he picks up the broken plate, in spite of his dialogue. Also, the pink pajamas. Peter's not cishet.

The tie is back in #15! Not only that...

Peter looks like the ideal male here: muscled, joyful and approachable. You may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like. Funnily enough, the issue also features clumsy Pete again as well as the White Tee of Nakedness.

And the Sprawling Legs of Approachability!

Anytime he wears that white tee, it feels obscene.

It feels like #16 finally showcases how form-fitting Spidey's costume actually is, but it's not what I focus on--just thought I'd mention it here.

In the magical Annual #1, Peter's laying on his bed, and his position is almost that of a Pin-up, what's with his arms above his head and his leg slightly bent. The calf dangling from the bed also implies casualness, comfort. Even the tie is not straight (ha!). And later...

Forearms!

You could argue new shirt, I would argue bad coloring. Still, he's practically naked here. Remember: Being naked isn't as erotic as hiding the skin.

#17 has the tie!!!

Now, Peter's just taunting the reader. The first panel? His disheveled hair? His open collar, barely tucked-in shirt, ruffled pants, flying jacket. This is THE moment. Or The Moment. The turning point. Peter looks like he just had some fun with someone else in a closet (ha!). He's erotic. And when he's running, the suit clearly espouses his buttocks.

THE OPEN BELT?! The ease of movement? Oh, this issue is IT.

And at the end, Peter visually bares himself to the audience (the shadow makes it clear).

By this point, I find Ditko's art actually enjoyable. His Spidey scenes are particularly pretty, but he's noticeably more used to the whole setting.

In the next part, we should hopefully cover the rest of Lee and Ditko's run (until #38, included). I haven't read past 1976, so I won't get to the 80s anytime soon, but I'll definitely talk about the Romita Sr. and Conway eras.

I've already rambled about Peter's quantum sentient inflatable butt in Civil War (#532-538) HERE if you're curious.

[further-from-maths]

Hey y’all! Just wanted to do another update on where I’m at :)

School has been great! Sixth form is really fun and I’m enjoying all of my subjects a whole lot :)) the IB really was a good choice for me — I can’t imagine being able to only take three or four A-level subjects.

I’m planning to get back to this blog very soon! My school makes all higher level maths students study a unit of both Maths AI (apps) and Maths AA (analysis) for the first term, so I wanted to properly continue this once I started Analysis in earnest. I’m really feeling the challenge of IB level maths, but it’s really… stimulating? The challenge feels nice. I feel like I’m really learning things here.

My other subjects have been going fantastically, too. We started with a pretty dull CompSci topic, but I trust it’ll be more interesting once we finish it. I’ve absolutely fallen in love with Global Politics: it’s such a cool subject and I have an amazing teacher who makes every lesson interesting. Definitely my favourite at the moment.

Oh! The IB-specific things have been fun, too! Theory of Knowledge is enjoyable. I was torn for a while between Politics and Philosophy, so TOK is right up my street haha! CAS is something I was sort of doing before anyway, so it’s fun to actually be rewarded for it :)

Anyway, that’s where I’m at. I’ve been busy and a little tired, but things have been going well :) I’ll try to post more of these little messy posts from time to time, too.

See you around 📚

- Flash ✨

[miabrown007]

The Art of Giving Your Best Friend Platonic Hickeys

"So, I've read this Tumblr post," Marinette said.   Now, at this point in time anyone with the tiniest bit of common sense would have cocked a skeptical eyebrow and backed away from this conversation as fast as their neurotypical legs would carry them.  Chat Noir — against all expectations — peered an eye open. "What did it say?" "It said, and I wholeheartedly agree, that it's okay to have a little crush on your friends.” *** aka Marinette and Chat Noir rent out a hotel room for clowning purposes

The Art of Giving Your Best Friend Platonic Hickeys (1999 words, 1/1 chapters, Teen)

"I've always wanted to try this!" Marinette giggled as soon as the door banged shut behind her.

"Renting out a hotel room with a friend for the heck of it?" Chat Noir asked. His voice was amused but he didn't pay much mind to her, ogling the double bed of their room challengingly as he was.

Marinette threw herself on the comforter without a second thought. "Renting out a hotel room with my best friend for the heck of it!" she corrected.

His face lit up like a toddler's on Christmas as he followed suit, jumping on the bed with all his might. "And I've always wanted to try this!"

"You can do better than just throwing yourself in the sheets, you know," Marinette laughed and gave the bed an experimental bounce.

"Oh, I'm aware," Chat drawled, his mischievous eyes flashing at her as he started springing up and down on the mattress in earnest. "I'm just getting started here."

"That's good, because the night is also only getting started," Marinette countered, holding his gaze for the exact millisecond it took her to get ideas before she threw her head back with a hearty laugh.

And then they did other things one or both of them had always wanted to try, like ordering an unholy amount of ice cream from the room service and feeding it to each other blindfolded, until — in some inexplicable, mysterious way — it ended up in Chat Noir's hair. After that there were no more excuses to avoid trying out the lavender-scented bath bombs they found in the vanity because he had to wash his hair anyway.

Marinette sat on the carpet cross-legged with her back to the bathroom's door, scrolling away on her phone while keeping up a conversation with Chat Noir over the sound of running water.

It was casual.

However, she got so engrossed in a post, she didn't even notice the silence and the approaching footsteps. Chat Noir opened the door and she fell, her back meeting the tiles before he could have caught her.

"Auch, are you okay?" he asked, pulling her to her feet.

“Yeah, I just got distracted,” Marinette said. She gave a once over to him, a smirk tugging on her lips as she went over to sit on the bed. “Cute PJs, by the way.”

“Wearing Ladybug pyjamas is very professional in my line of business, I’ll have you know,” he nodded proudly. He followed her like a shadow and just when she finally found a comfortable position — one-leg pulled under herself — he laid his head on her lap.

“Your hair is all wet,” Marinette complained, albeit making no effort to change the situation.

She grazed her nails over the spot behind his ear — the human one, not the cat one, that would have been weird — the way she knew he liked it. (Although, the weird part was probably the fact that even detransformed and with only a black textile mask to conceal his identity, Chat Noir felt the need to put on a headband accessorised with cat ears. She didn’t comment on that, though — who was Marinette to judge a friend’s self-expression.)

Evidently enjoying the head-scratches, Chat Noir let his eyes drift shut.

"So, I've read this Tumblr post," Marinette said.

Now, at this point in time anyone with the tiniest bit of common sense would have cocked a skeptical eyebrow and backed away from this conversation as fast as their neurotypical legs would carry them.

Chat Noir — against all expectations — peered an eye open. "What did it say?"

"It was a very insightful analysis on platonic relationships, actually," she continued. She ran her fingers through his damp hair and fiddled with the untamable locks.

Chat Noir made a purring sound. "And what did it say about platonic relationships?"

Why Marinette didn’t feel like using the word ‘friendship’ in the first place, she couldn’t quite explain. At any rate, she proceeded to avoid doing so. "It said — and I wholeheartedly agree — that it's okay to have a little crush on your friends. That you can be attracted to them, and that's fine. Because nothing has to come from it. And I think that's really neat."

[read the whole fic on AO3]

@marichatmay, @miraculousfanworks, @discoveringmiraculouswriters

[thewertsearch]

Asks Compilation 18/07

I'm really enjoying Hivebent! It almost feels like a detour into a different story, like the Intermission - although the difference, of course, is that we know this one is plot-relevant. 

The tone is quite different too. Things are kind of ominous - and not just because we know the troll session(s) are doomed. We’re slowly zooming into the culture of a pretty terrible world, and I’m sure there’s a lot more to see.  

I've thought about this, but there are two main issues here:

I like to refer back to previous posts a lot when I’m liveblogging, both for further analysis and to illustrate points. Audio or video reactions are sort of hard to reference - I could do a transcript, but I don’t think it’d be very useful, because

I’m just not very good live, lmao. I’m a lot more comfortable in text, where I can format and edit posts to properly illustrate what I’m trying to say. Live, I tend to ramble - even my text posts have to be cut down a little from my initial reactions. You’re really not missing much; trust me on this.

If the flashes ever get really long - like, if we do a larger one of these, which I’m assuming is a walkaround - I’ll reconsider. I doubt it, though, I’d probably be more likely to split it into multiple posts. I’ll keep it under consideration, though!

Karkat and his friends and everyone they would ever meet thereafter would experience great misfortune on account of the curse unwittingly implemented through Sollux's esoteric MOBIUS DOUBLE REACHAROUND VIRUS.

I think either interpretation makes sense - this sentence is kind of ambiguous, now that I’m looking at it again. Although, if Sollux did know what the virus would do, why would he send it to his friend? 

He knows Karkat is an amateur programmer, which is the worst kind of person to send this too. Karkat can compile and run this code, but he can’t understand it. What the hell, Captor?

I absolutely hate to admit this, but I watched Morbius with my friend a couple of weeks ago. The experience was indescribable, and it’s stuck in my mind ever since.

But my favorite moment will be when John looks directly out of the panel, meeting my eye, and speaks thusly:

I'm wearing ‘cliffnotes-esque’ as a badge of honor from now on. I kind of want to make it my blog header.

Yeah, I try to attach any relevant context to the points I make, just to help me tie things together. As a bonus, it hopefully helps readers out, too!

Oh my god, does this mean Sburb is on a grub? Are all the actual troll computers just... full of insects?  

Was Karkat, like, really confused by the non-biological tape storage in the Veil, or was his Veil just wall-to-wall grubs?

That’s too funny. It’s second only to Kingdom Hearts in weird stream-crossing moments in video games. I’ve never actually played a dating game before, but I gotta give this one a go - I actually think I’ve seen that JaidenAnimations dating game video before, I’ve seen a lot of her stuff. 

It may not be true canon, but maybe this is the legendary semi-canon that I keep hearing about...

Oh I love Undertale - Deltarune too. There is just so much going on in those games, on every level. 

Toby, not to rush you, but you have no idea the things I’d do for Chapter 3 to drop today. 

I actually didn’t catch this! Not that I’ve studied any classics, or anything.

I guess my pronunciation isn’t quite right. I guess it’d be something like ‘saul-ucks cap-ter’?

So he is. I think it’s a pretty safe bet that mental health services on Alternia are somewhat lacking, even more so than on Earth. Do you think trolls even know what therapy is? 

Aw, the poor monsters. 

Shit, I hadn’t thought of this yet - what lusus will my trollsona have? I’m thinking of some sort of insect, but leave it with me. 

[https://4-panel-life.tumblr.com/post/63400990221/before-i-knew-what-homestuck-was-i-was-really this I think 😂 - Cat ] 

Love it. I’d honestly have probably spent the rest of my life confusing the two, if I hadn’t started this blog. As I said, I have no earthy clue what Homestar Runner is about, only that it was a beacon of internet culture in the era before I came online.

I don’t doubt that puns were in play when Hussie was initially naming these Aspects - and those puns may well tie into their symbolism. It’s a pretty good way to get some inspiration when you’re naming things.

But I’m sure there’s more too it - simply because people love these Titles. The system is presumably pretty deep, and the pun is but a single faucet of each Title.

Thank you! Hilariously, it’s actually hotter at home than it was abroad. 

Is anyone else dealing with the heatwave, right now? Holy shit, you guys, even normal summers make me drowsy. This one is something else. 

Always up for some Sylladex analysis. 

We’ve considered this interpretation before. It makes a lot of sense - and it gels with what we already know about Sburb - but I’m still on the fence about it, mostly because it raises the same question that the rest of Sburb’s predestination system does - namely, how it would account for alternate timelines. 

There are ways to handle it - like, maybe each iteration of each person gets their own, personal index - and I do think we’re on the right track with predestination, but I still don’t think we have the whole picture here. 

Everything, Everywhere was a lot of fun - and all the AU and alt-self stuff was very Homestuck. 

Does anyone else wish we'd seen more of the other timelines, though? I know the movie was intentionally centered on one specific iteration of the family, but I'd love to have seen more of what went down in, for example, the Prime Timeline.

Dis* is me when I try to use regexes.

I'm on the for you page? I've fucking made it. Catch me monetizing the shit out of this blog now.

thewertsearch, brought to you by Namco™ High!

[ omg. um.... here it is... humanimals.... drawn by Hussie, I believe a few years before HS...

https://mrcheeze.github.io/andrewhussie/comic.html?comic=humanimals

content warning for... I guess body horror, and weird... human animal people, I don’t even know what description I could give but it’s nightmare fuel xD

it’s not directly plot relevant to HS the way SBAHJ is, I leave it up to your judgement lol - C ]

........

I honestly don’t think I can post these on the blog. Why does the the fact that they’re office clerks make it worse, somehow? The juxtaposition of the casual mood with what we’re seeing is generating a feeling that’s adjacent to, but somehow more harrowing than, the uncanny valley. 

Incredible. I feel like my life has been enriched in a way I can neither understand nor describe.  

Oh right, yeah, the ‘secrets’ in the playable panels! Yeah, I’d actually forgotten about these, thanks for the reminder.

It's been a while since a playable flash, so I need to remember to find the key combination for each of them. if I miss one, remind me!

[yslkook]

good years (1)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you arrive at hobi’s birthday party, along with some of your other friends. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: alcohol, cursing, excessive use of pet names...bc its me

Being late to events, especially events in honor of your friends, was your least favorite thing. Punctuality was one of your top three favorite things about yourself, and yet here you were- nearly sprinting through the streets in heels because you were an idiot and had gotten the name of the bar wrong.

Instead of the Silver Spoon, you’d ended up at the Silver Tongue. That’s what happens when you don’t check your text messages for confirmation and operate on autopilot. So now, you were about an hour and a half late (as if the absence of the birthday boy and his merry band of friends at the Silver Spoon didn’t tell you enough).

Oh well. 

By the time you arrive about twelve blocks away to the Silver Spoon, you quickly make sure that not a hair is out of place before walking into the bar to try to blend in, as if you’d been there the whole time.

“Hobi!” You chirp, finding your friend in the middle of all of the chaos, “Happy birthday, Hobi-”

Hobi turns to greet you, a big (drunk) smile plastered across his face. “You’re late! Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Well, I-uh, this is gonna sound dumb, but-”

You’re interrupted by a few of the guys walking into the bar, causing a ruckus and nearly screeching Hobi’s name. At least you’re not the only one who’s late. And you quickly see Sora in your line of sight, entering in behind the guys.

Sora, your best friend of several years since college. She’s been with you since the beginning, taking you under her wing when you were both young and in college. She had brought you out of your shell a bit, inviting you to parties and inviting you to have dinner with her in the dining hall. The slow convenience of college had blossomed into something real, something that could stand the test of time- also known as the test of post-graduate life.

Her friendship was an adventure to say the least.

“Hey,” You beam at her with drinks for both of you in your hands, “Fancy seeing you here-”

“Hey,” She grins, pulling you in for a hug, “Work was so shitty, like, I had to stay late today. Of all days! I can’t wait to have a fuckin’ drink.”

“Yeah, here’s something funny-” But your words are cut off yet again, by the arrival of more friends. It looks like Sora had invited some of her own friends, friends that you weren’t quite sure liked you very much.

But you don’t dwell on that, instead sipping on your drink and settling on people watching. Settings like this unnerve you- being in a place where you’re not quite friendly with everyone in attendance makes you feel self-conscious. It’s easier to just stay in the background, blend into the walls, so as to not upset yourself-

“Hey, you,” Comes a familiar voice to your right. It’s Yoongi, one of your fellow people watcher enthusiasts. He stands next to you, shoulder brushing against yours.

“Hey, you,” You repeat, flashing him a smile and a playful shove to his shoulder, “How have you been? It’s been a while, Yoongi.”

“You’re the one who’s been hiding,” Yoongi teases, “All cooped up at home.”

“So have you! In your studio,” You protest, poking his shoulder.

“I guess I can’t argue there.”

“No, you really can’t,” You say, “So tell me then, what’s new? What’s coming out of the studio these days?”

You enjoy hearing him speak, the way his passion for his craft pouring through his words. He invites you (again) to stop by the studio if you ever want to. You promise to stop by soon, with his favorite snacks. You usually try to stop by his studio at least once a month to catch up with him. He’s also one of your oldest friends, along with Hobi.

“Hey,” Comes another voice to your left this time. It’s a voice you definitely recognize, a voice that makes you tense up immediately.

Jeon Jungkook has always had a way of making you stammer over your words, ever since Yoongi and Hobi had introduced you to him years ago. He’s tall, nearly always dressed in all black, tattoos and piercings coloring his frame, and something sweet and sinful swirls in his dark eyes.

You don’t know if it’s a look that is reserved for you or if he looks at everyone like this, but honestly, your brain short circuits every time he glances your way.

“H-hi,” You mumble, taking a sip of your drink to ease your jumpy nerves. Jungkook only grins at you, his bunny smile a stark contrast to the rest of his aura.

“Been a while, huh?” Jungkook says, voice smooth and sweet like molasses. 

“Y-yeah, been busy,” You mutter. You watch in mild panic as Yoongi walks away, being called away by Namjoon and Taehyung.

“Missed you, baby,” Jungkook winks at you. Somehow, he always gravitates to you at these types of events. Not that you’ll particularly complain- his attention makes you feel warm, even if it’s all for jokes and fun.

As Sora repeatedly has told you.

According to her, he’s the worst- a player, a fuckboy (when he was apparently too old to be one, her words not yours) and this is how he treats any pretty girl. So you don’t take it too seriously, only indulging him a bit and keeping him out of your periphery.

But you won’t deny that his recent use of the pet name might make you swoon a little bit.

“Oh, stop,” You wave him off with heat rising in your cheeks. And he knows it, too, from the self-assured smirk he throws you.

“How’s work been? They got you crunching numbers and all that?” Jungkook asks, ordering himself a beer and a drink for you.

“That’s literally my job, but right now, we just got access to a new database so I’m excited to see what kinds of visualizations and insights we can bring forward. We’re moving forward to proactive analysis, but you know, we’re still a ways away from that, we still react to problems so reactively. Like we’re just putting out fires all the time, it’s kinda tiring but I’m excited-” You cut yourself off at your rambling, sheepishly laughing, “Oh, you should’ve stopped me. I know it’s boring.”

“It’s not boring, not if it’s important to you,” Jungkook shrugs, “Besides, I like hearing you talk.”

“Really? You really wanna hear about the latest and greatest happening in the data world?”

“I wanna hear about anything you have to say, baby,” Jungkook says easily. You squeeze your drink in your hand tightly to ground yourself.

This is why he intimidates you- his affections have only increased in the last few months. It’s like he’s playing a game with you, trying to see how long it takes for you to crack. You don’t know how sincere he is when he turns the charm on- is this how he talks to everyone, or is it just you? 

You like to think it’s just you (because you at least dare to call him a friend of yours), but he could get anyone he sets his eyes on. Rather than spiralling down that train of thought, you bask in his flirtations, his gentle affections hidden under his very many layers of black.

Before you can reply to ask him about the tattoo parlor and about his newly purchased motorcycle, Sora interrupts you both. You’re oblivious to the deadly glare that Jungkook shoots her, and the glare that she shoots right back at him.

She whisks you away, an arm tight around your shoulders. You turn your head and look back at Jungkook apologetically.

This is how it always is, especially for the last few months. As soon as Sora sees Jungkook and you speaking, she’ll immediately do anything to intervene. It’s fucking annoying and Jungkook is beginning to dislike Sora more and more each time he has the misfortune of coming in contact with her. He doesn’t really care about whatever personal vendetta your best friend has for him.

He’s always thought Sora was a conniving woman, full of manipulation and tricks up her sleeve. Ever since Yoongi and Hobi had introduced you to their friend group (and you had brought Sora along as well). His instincts are hardly ever wrong, but he hates to see you spiral with her.

But he’s powerless to stop you from walking away from him. Yet again.

tags: @kookdbean​

[mrsabednadir]

Here Comes the Night

WC: 640

SUMMARY: The BAU joins a multi-agency effort to track down one of the CIA’s most-devastating double agents ever.

PAIRING: GN! Y/N x BAU

A/N: It’s been a hot minute heyyyyyy I’ve been writing little drafts of CM episode scripts so i thought I might share it cuz maybe someone will enjoy it, yanno? Let me know if you like this format and want me to post more/the rest of the script once I finish it!

A/N: Also this story is very heavily based off a real case (Harold James Nicholson, if you’re interested). Also also the title is a Beach Boys song but it has absolutely nothing to do with the story, I just thought the name sounded cool

CRIMINAL MINDS

“Here Comes the Night, Part 1”

Season 7, Episode 7

EPISODE DESCRIPTION:

The Behavioral Analysis Unit joins a multi-agency effort to track down one of the CIA’s most-devastating double agents ever.

FADE IN:

INT. BAU OFFICE

We open as the AGENTS step out of an elevator; We see what they see. There are more suits than usual in the bullpen. As they walk in, making their way to the round table, the AGENTS glance apprehensively at each other.

CONT. SHOT - CAMERA FOLLOWS

PRENTISS: What the hell is going on?

MORGAN: No clue. But I highly doubt they’re [gesturing] all here to celebrate.

Y/N: [rolling eyes, scoffing] True. The last time there was this much ego in one room was that anthrax case, what, three years ago?

PRENTISS: [groaning] Please don’t let it be biowarfare again.

MORGAN: Oh, Prentiss, don’t cry. Look: no fatigues.

PRENTISS: [shrugging] True.

REID: The absence of camouflage does not preclude the presence of self-importance.

[beat]

REID: What?

MORGAN: Kid, was that a joke?

REID: I don’t know why everyone thinks I can’t be funny!

PRENTISS: You better not bring up that study again about how smart people are funnier.

REID: Well, if the shoe fits…!

Y/N: [laughing] Reid, you’re my hero.

We’ve now reached the familiar roundtable. There are our usual faces, but a new one too. A stern-looking man, even more so than HOTCH, is standing next to our Unit Chief and staring at the AGENTS before him.

INT. ROUNDTABLE

HOTCH: Everyone, this is Deputy Director Stevens of the CIA’s Counterintelligence Center.

We see side-eyes being shared.

HOTCH: [cont.] Seven years ago, we joined the CIA in identifying a mole in their Counterterrorism Unit.

We now see the faces of everyone in the room fall, as realization of what their new case will entail passes over them.

HOTCH: [cont.] After an extensive investigation, we concluded that the mole was Bruno Hawks.

The screen flashes to show a mugshot: this white man, 50, is smirking. He radiates arrogance.

HOTCH: In doing so, we recovered $6 million transferred between Hawks and his accomplice, Hassan Nadir.

STEVENS: The apprehension of Bruno Hawks was an achievement between the FBI and the CIA. We recently received information from a Russian informant that [sighing] we have a leak. The informant said that this was a CIA agent with a military background, who speaks a foreign language, and who recently spent time in Asia.

HOTCH: Right now, they’ve narrowed down the list to seven possible agents. The Directors of both agencies have asked us to interview these potentials to narrow the list even more.

The gravity, and deja vu, of the situation hits all of our AGENTS heavily. They know it is up to them to save the lives of spies and citizens alike.

JJ: Have any of them taken a polygraph test yet?

STEVENS: No. Any sudden action, like a polygraph, might scare them into cutting off contact with their handler or destroying evidence.

HOTCH: The Department of Justice plans to pursue the death penalty – they need all the evidence they can get.

Silence.

HOTCH: Just like with the mole investigation seven years ago, we’ll be shadowing and interviewing each of the potentials.

He moves to stand up, signifying to the others it’s time.

HOTCH: I don’t have to explain the gravity and timeliness of what we’re dealing with here.

All the AGENTS shuffle out of the room, and as they leave, we can catch conversations between them.

Y/N: [to REID] Ready to head to Langley?

MORGAN: [chuckling] No, he’s scared of not being the smartest person in the room anymore. Remember that agent with the, what was it, 197 IQ?

Y/N: Oh God, Kruger Spence. [mock-shivering] Literally the definition of unsettling.

REID: Hey Morgan, how’s Gina doing?

MORGAN: [laughing] Damn, touché, kid. Touché.

[x-reader-theater]

A Shakespearean Soliloquy in Two Parts

Relationship: Asexua!Spemcer Reid x Asexual!Male!Reader

Summary: “Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” William Shakespeare, Julius Ceaser

Warnings: Scool shooting, asexual Spencer Reid and reader, implied autism.

Word Count: 7520 words

A/N: To be frank, I meant to post this at like, three pm. Also Asexual Spencer Reid owns my ass and I will only write him as such. Please enjoy. Edited by the outstanding, amazing, show stopping @mystic-writes​ . I love you please forgive me for forgetting.

"Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream" –A Midsummer Night's Dream

"Hey, Shelly," you say with a smile at the small book store you are currently checking out in. "Good to see you again." 

"You as well! Only one book this week?" Shelly asks and you nod. 

"Yeah. I have too much work to do, so I can't focus on more than one book," you say. 

She scans your book and you pay quickly. She hands you the book back and says with a smile, "Enjoy your book!" 

You nod and turn around quickly, taking a step, before colliding with someone. The books in their hands go crashing to the floor, and you do as well, crying out as you land suddenly on your tailbone, and stars flash before your eyes. 

"I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have been that close and I wasn't paying attention, and I should have been looking where I was going and-" you hold up a hand to silence the man who was speaking a mile a minute in front of you. 

"Really, it's okay. It was my fault," you say, wincing as you try and get up. 

The man holds out a hand out and you take it. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" 

He takes his hand back almost immediately once you're standing and you smile. "No, not really. Just bruised my tailbone," you say and the man sighs. 

You lean down and pick up a couple of the books he was carrying, and when you go to the last book, his fingers brush yours. You look up and see your faces are inches from one another, and you feel your face heating up. You see him blush as well and you both pull your hands away. You stand up so he can grab the last book and you shove the books you're holding into his arms. 

"Sorry again!" you say, not looking at him, and you leave because you can’t embarrass yourself any more. 

It isn't until you're in your car that you realize you gave him your book as well. 

"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love." –Hamlet

You walk into the Alley Cat Café, a new café that just opened a block from your flat that also offered an area where you could hang out with adoptable cats. You never went in there because you would just adopt all of them and you didn't have the time for that right now. 

You walk into the café and the little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival. You walk up to the counter and order your regular, the Calico Chai, and pay before finding a seat near the back close to the window where you could watch the cats. Your order is called, and as you get up, you look over to a table, and see a very familiar man reading a book at a remarkable speed. 

You distractedly grab your tea and go back to your table, gathering up your things before plopping yourself next to the man. 

"Hello again!" you exclaim and he jumps, looking up from his reading to glare at whoever interrupted him. 

When he locks eyes with you, however, his eyes widen. "Oh! Hello!" he exclaims and a small smile forms on his lips. 

"I think I may have given you my book on Tuesday," you say sheepishly, and his eyes widen even more and his mouth drops open adorably. 

He turns and fishes around in his bag, before turning back to you and holding out a book in both hands. "I've been carrying it around with me hoping to give it back to you," he says, blushing, and you grin, taking the book from his hands, your fingers brushing his. 

"Well, thank you," you say, grabbing the large book. 

"So, the complete works of Shakespeare, huh?" the man asks and you nod. 

"Yeah. I've never actually owned a copy before," you say. "I've only taken it out from the library or borrowed it from friends. I actually wanted to major in Shakespearean studies in college before ultimately deciding to go another way." The man nods, and silence falls over you for a moment before you say, "You know, I never got your name."

"Oh! Doctor Spencer Reid," he says with a wave. 

You wave back and say, "Doctor [Y/N] [L/N]."

"What's your doctorate in?" he asks, excited. 

You reply, "Biological Anthropology. I teach it at Georgetown."

"That's where I got my PHD in Chemistry," Spencer says and you grin. 

"Really? When was that?" you ask. 

"Thirteen years, two months, six days, and seventeen hours ago," he says and you blink owlishly. 

You think for a moment before saying, "You must have been really young when you got that."

He nods. "I was seventeen. It was my second PHD. I have three. One in mathematics, one in chemistry, and one in engineering. I also have five BAs."

You stare at him for a moment, not saying anything, before you whisper, "That's really impressive." You feel your cheeks heat up. "I didn't get my PHD until I was nearly 25."

"I have an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words a minute," he says and you smile. 

"You're one of a kind, Spencer Reid," you say, holding your book to your chest. "That must have been a very lonely childhood though," you remark, and he looks away from you. He nods but doesn't say anything. "What do you do now?" 

"I'm a profiler with the FBI in their behavioral analysis unit," he explains and you smile. 

"Maybe I'll have you come in and lecture to one of my classes some time," you say and he smiles. "Though Biological Anthropology isn't very exciting to anyone but me…" you look away and scratch the back of your neck, but Spencer assuages your fears. 

"Actually, I find it quite interesting. I read an article the other day about how work stress is actually de-evolving humans, causing their bones to actually lose density, causing them more physical pain and inability to do physical tasks, as well as loss of sleep, appetite, and more," he says, and you grin. 

"But, the study was only on French individuals, and it could have different results based on where the study is done. Like, in Japan for example, there may be the same amount of stress but they handle it better because in their culture, work is just a part of life and you have to deal with stress. Or in America, where we have different ways of dealing with stress that may cloud the findings," you add, and he nods. 

"That is true, though you'd have to factor that into the initial hypothesis and-" 

Spencer is cut off by his phone ringing. He picks it up and the phone call ends quickly. 

"I'm so sorry to have to do this, but I have to go to work. We have a case," he says and you nod in understanding. 

"Of course. It was nice talking to you Spencer. I hope we can talk again some time!" you exclaim. 

A small smile tugs at his lips and he says, "I do too, [Y/N]." 

You stare at each other for a couple moments before he turns around and leaves the café. You sip your now cold tea and realize you didn't get Spencer's number. 

“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt." –Measure for Measure

You sit at the bar and nurse your glass of water as the music and lights cause a headache to split at your temples. You groan and massage your head, but it doesn't do anything to relieve the pain. You take another sip of your water, and look up to see a familiar face looking down at you. 

"Co-workers bring you here too?" Spencer asks and you smile and nod. 

"Yeah. It's Fiona's birthday today and she wanted to go to a club," you say, and Spencer sits down next to you. "I got dragged along. And apparently I got a splitting headache too."

"Do you want any help with that?" Spencer asks and you look at him, questioningly. "Turn around." 

You do as he asks, slowly, and you feel his fingers lightly resting on your neck. You wince as he presses into your spine right where your head and neck meet, but after thirty seconds he releases, and your headache dissipates. You grin and turn around. 

"How did you know to do that?" you ask. 

He shrugs. "I had chronic migraines when I was younger, and I read a book on pressure points once," he explains and you nod in understanding. 

"Right. You're a genius," you say with a forced smile and he frowns. You sigh. "You just…" you put a hand on his cheek, and he stiffens for a moment before relaxing into your touch. "You make me feel inferior. Like I'm just never going to do as well as you."

Spencer grabs your hand lightly and squeezes it, putting it away from your face as he looks into your eyes. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. You're a doctor working at one of the best schools in the country," he says and you smile. He returns it. "And, don't compare yourself to me. I can read 20,000 words a minute. I'm a freak. You're more normal than I am."

"Spencer Reid, don't you ever say that again!" you exclaim, taking his other hand in your own. "You are not a freak!" He goes to protest but you take one of your hands from his grip and put it over his lips. "Nope. No arguing. What I say is final."

You pull your hand away and you see he's smiling. "Yes, Doctor," he says, his words dripping with sarcasm. 

You grin, before gasping. He looks alarmed as you say, "Oh! I forgot!" he places his hands on your arms. "You didn't give me your number in the café!" 

He sighs in what looks to be relief, before reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet. "You want to see a magic trick?" 

You nod and he grins an adorable smile that has you grinning as well. He holds up a business card, probably his business card, and moves his hands in front of his face, and when they cross back over, the card is gone. 

"Oh come on! It's behind your hand! I know this trick," you say, and he raises an eyebrow. 

He opens up his fingers and turns his hand around, showing it's nowhere to be seen. Your eyes go wide and your mouth drops slightly in awe. 

"Hey, I think you have something in your hair… right there…" he says, pointing to your left ear, and you reach up before he can touch you. 

You feel something, and when you pull it out in front of you, you see it's Spencer's business card. 

You laugh and flip the card over, checking to see if it's real or not. But it very much is. 

"Wow Spencer, that's amazing!" you exclaim and his cheeks flare red. You take out your phone and put his number in, calling it. He looks up at you and you place your phone to your ear. He picks up and you say with a smile, "There. Now you have my number too."

"This sounds very strange, can I hang up now?" Spencer says out loud, and it's repeated in your ear only moments after. You laugh and nod, and the two of you hang up your phones. 

Almost immediately, his phone starts ringing again, and you put up your hands in innocence. 

"JJ," he says into the receiver, pausing for a moment, before saying quickly, "I'll be right there." He hangs up his phone and places it in his pocket, before saying quickly. "Sorry, that was work. I really have to go."

You smile and nod. "You have a job to do. Go save some lives." He smiles and turns to leave, but you call out, "Spencer!" he turns around and you stand up, lean forward, and place a kiss on his cheek. "For good luck." 

He grins and walks out of the club. You watch as a couple more people file out, and sit back in your seat and finish your water.

"Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change." –Romeo and Juliet

You're flipping through papers when you hear someone call out to you. 

"[Y/N]!" they shout and looking up you see Spencer Reid walking down the hallway towards you, a messenger bag slung around his shoulder. He was wearing something similar to what he was wearing in the club only two nights ago. 

"Case ended early?" you ask and he nods. 

"Yeah. Child abduction. We had less than forty eight hours to get the child back alive since the family didn't report her missing until twenty four hours had passed," he says. 

"And did you? Get the child back alive, I mean," you ask and he nods. You grin.

"Oh, good. So! What are you doing here? You didn't come just to see me, did you?" 

Spencer blushes and you place a hand on his arm. "No, Doctor Priya Chopra wanted my help on an article she's going to write about fungal growth on skin and the potential benefits it could have, as well as any side effects it may cause," he says and you nod. 

"Well, I can show you to her office! She's new so it wouldn't have updated on any maps yet," you say and Spencer nods. 

He stops and you halt in front of him, turning as he says, "Oh! Do you want me to carry any of your papers?" 

You smile and shake your head. "No, it's okay. I'll just have to walk back anyways. My office is in the other direction."

"Oh, I don't want you to have to go out of your way. I can probably find it on my own…" Spencer trails off, looking helplessly at the myriad of plain beige hallways. 

You shake your head and bump your shoulder with his. "Really. It's not a big deal. I want to do this," you say with a smile.  He smiles back and you lead him down a couple hallways, until you stop at a door with a nameplate that reads, 'Dr. Priya Chopra, PHD'.

"Well, this is your stop," you say, almost sad with a slight slump to your shoulders. "With that eidetic memory of yours, I don't think you need me to show you around anymore."

Spencer places a hand on the small of your back and points at the paperwork in your arms. "You look like you could use a little help. How about I come by after my talk with Doctor Chopra? I know where your office is," he says and you grin. 

"I would love that, Spencer," you say, and watch him until he disappears behind Doctor Chopra's door. 

"One may smile, and smile, and be a villain." –Hamlet

You hear a knock at your door and you look up from your work to see a familiar head pop out from behind the door. You grin and say, "Parker! It's good to see you again! Come in." 

The young man with dark circles under his eyes slowly walks into your office, he wrings his hands out in front of him, and sits down in the chair across from yours. He slowly takes his backpack off and reaches in, pulling out a grey folder. The movements were slow and methodical, but you can see the young man's hands shaking slightly as he does so. Finally, he pulls out a stapled stack of papers and holds it out to you. 

You take it carefully and frown, looking it over. It was one of his essays that you just gave back a couple days ago with a big red 'F' on the front. 

"Why did you fail me?" Parker whispers and you sigh. 

You lean back in your chair, folding your fingers on your stomach as you say, "Your essay is all over the place. There isn't a coherent theme or message in any of it. Also, you should really find someone to help edit your grammar at least. You have misspellings and incorrect comma usage all over the place, Parker." The man in question looks down away from you and you sigh again, this time louder and lean forward onto your desk. "How about this. Go to the writing center on campus, find someone to help plan out your essay, and if you do a good job, I'll bump up your score to at least a B, if not more if you do really well, okay?" 

Parker looks up at you and gives you a toothy, forced smile, almost as if he doesn't smile much in his life, and says, "Thank you, Mr. [Y/N]."

You smile and nod, handing the paper back to him, and just as someone knocks at your door, he gets up. 

Opening the door, Parker comes face to face with Doctor Gerard Holden, professor of microbiology at Georgetown, and the man looks shocked for a moment before steeling his expression and saying over Parker's shoulder, "Dr. [L/N], do you have a minute to talk?" 

You smile and nod, before addressing Parker again. "Parker, I want to see that essay on my desk in a week and a half at the most. I hope to see some improvement."

Parker doesn't turn around but he nods and slides out of your office as quickly as he can without touching Dr. Holden. When Parker leaves, the older man walks into your office and closes the door behind him. 

"That boy is very strange. I don't know how you put up with him. I've had to kick him out of class before for being disruptive and talking out of turn," he says and you sigh. 

"He's a good kid and an even better student. I bet if you pushed him a little more, and actually called on him in class, he wouldn't interrupt so much," you say and the doctor in front of you is pale. "But, I hope you didn't come here to discuss our students."

The man shakes his head and goes into a lengthy question about having you guest lecture during one of his classes. You agree quickly and get the time and date and what you'll be covering before Dr. Holden opens the door to your office.

You see Parker standing on the other side of the door, and you know he heard everything you and Dr. Holden discussed about him. 

"They do not love that do not show their love." –The two Gentlemen of Verona

It's a Saturday. You and Spencer are sitting in your apartment reading. Spencer's stack next to him is significantly smaller than yours, and whenever he finishes a book, he places it on your stack. Whenever you finish yours, you place your book on the ground and pick up whatever book Spencer just finished reading. 

It's nice. 

"If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die." –Twelfth Night

"Come on! I don't want us to miss this!" Spencer exclaims, grabbing your hand, and pulling you along as he runs through the small park. 

"Wait! Spencer! I didn't know we were running! I would have brought my inhaler!" you exclaim as you try and keep pace. 

Spencer doesn't stop though as he says, "It's not far, now come on!" The two of you continue to run through the trees, and eventually you come upon a clearing. There are a few couples there, but not actually as many as you would have expected. The thing that shocks you the most are the group of college age students all standing around with boxes in their hands. 

"Spencer what-" 

"Shh!" 

You step closer to him, still holding his hand as the students all step up, and take the tops off the boxes. Light start flying out of the uncovered cardboard boxes and you realize that they're lightning bugs. 

You gasp as a swarm flies towards you before dispersing into a hazy cloud of blinking yellow and green emanating from the lower abdomen. You reach out and the bugs fly away from your hand in streaks of light and you laugh. You turn, grinning at Spencer's face. He's looking right at you. 

In the low glow, you can see Spencer's handsome features on display. His cheekbones are softer in the light, his auburn hair a deep brown and his hazel eyes reflecting spots of green back at you. You reach up and place a hand on his cheek. He looks beautiful. 

"What is this?" you ask, breathless. 

He smiles softly and you look down at his lips. They look inviting. "The biology majors at Howard under Professor Trudy study fireflies for a semester before releasing them here. Did you know that many fireflies do not produce light? Usually these species are diurnal, or day-flying, such as those in the genus Ellychnia. A few diurnal fireflies that inhabit primarily shadowy places, such as beneath tall plants or trees, are luminescent. One such genus is Lucidota. Non-bioluminescent fireflies use pheromones to signal mates. This is supported by the fact that some basal groups do not show bioluminescence and use chemical signaling, instead. Phosphaenus hemipterus has photic organs, yet is a diurnal firefly and displays large antennae and small eyes. These traits strongly suggest pheromones are used for sexual selection, while photic organs are used for warning signals."

You're silent for a minute before you say, "You said firefly."

Spencer frowns. "Huh?" 

"You said firefly. People around here say 'Lightning bug,' which means you're not from around here. Where are you from?" you ask, and his frown subsides. 

"Las Vegas," he says and you smile. 

"You're a long way from home," you reply, looking around at the lightning bugs floating lazily around you, taking in their new environment. You look back at him and say, "I'm glad you're here Spencer. I'm glad I ran into you at the book shop. Literally," you say, laughing lightly. 

"Me too," Spencer says with a small smile on his face. 

You lean up and kiss him, quickly, before pulling back, not really giving him a chance to react. He stares at you, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, before leaning in and capturing his lips in yours again. You lean against him, turning so your front is pressed against his, he places his hands on your hips and you thread yours through his hair and rest them on the back of his neck. 

When you pull away, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, but you're so lost in Spencer's eyes you hardly notice. 

"I am not bound to please thee with my answers." –The Merchant of Venice

You jump as someone hits their bowl a little too hard with their spoon, causing a loud crashing noise it seems like only you can hear. You can feel your heart rate picking up as another person accidentally drops a glass on the floor, shattering it. Your eyes dart around as people talk loudly over one another, shouting to be heard over the low din of the restaurant. 

"[Y/N]!" 

You look up at Spencer sharply, your eyes going wide. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, reaching a hand out. You nod but don't take his hand, instead picking at your nails underneath the table. "I was just talking about the underlying effects of corsetry in the modern era…" Spencer continues as if nothing is wrong but another loud crash causes you to jump and lose focus from him again. 

You hear Spencer sigh and you look up at him, your cheeks flaming up. "Sorry…" you mutter. 

"What's wrong?" he asks plainly. 

"I-" you begin to say, but flinch as someone laughs loudly at a table nearby you. "I don't really like restaurants. They're too… loud." 

Spencer looks at you with that blank stare for a moment before sighing in what you hope is of relief. "Same here. A co-worker of mine suggested I take you out to dinner and when I told him I don't like restaurants either, he just said you would," Spencer explains. 

You frown. "Who did he think I was? We read books in your apartment all the time!" 

Spencer looks away sheepishly and pulls his hands into his lap. "I haven't used pronouns for you, so he assumed you were a woman."

You snort. "Wouldn't be the first time." Spencer frowns at you. "I've dated a lot of bisexual men with straight colleagues. The co-workers always assume I'm a woman." 

Spencer nods, and the two of you are silent once again in the loud restaurant. You flinch once more as something crashes together, and Spencer sighs. 

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" he asks, almost begging. 

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes. Please. We can go back to mine?" Your eyes widen at that. "Not for sex!" you exclaim and a few people look over at you. You blush in embarrassment and say, quieter, "I-I just meant to read or watch a documentary or something. I didn't mean to imply."

Spencer smiles softly. "It's okay. I didn't even realize. I'm not sexually attracted to people."

Your eyes widen and you grin. "Me neither!" 

Spencer grins with you and the two of you hastily pay and make a quick exit out of the busy restaurant. 

"God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another." –Hamlet

"Mr. [L/N]?" 

You jump and look up from your work and see Parker standing in your office. You put a hand over your heart and laugh. "Parker! You scared me!" 

"Sorry…" he says, not making eye contact. 

You chuckle as you say, "I should put a bell on you…" you see Parker flush a deep red but you ignore it. "So, what can I do you for?" 

Silently, still red and blushing, Parker pulls out a stapled stack of papers from his backpack and holds it out to you. You take it and see it's the revised version of his essay you failed last week. 

"I did want you asked…" he says quietly and you quickly look over the first page. 

You smile up at him, grateful. "Thank you, Parker. I'll get it back to you by the end of the week-"

"NO!" he shouts and you jump at that. 

"Parker, I have a lot of work to do and-" 

But he cuts you off again, shouting, "No! Get it done now!" 

You sigh, knowing he's not going to relent, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. "Okay. How about this. How many classes do you have left today?" 

"Two…" Parker says, and you almost miss it seeing as he's so quiet. 

You nod. "Okay. How about I work on it while you're in class and you can come back after."

Parker nods and without another word, leaves your office. You sigh loudly and lean your head into your hands. 

"I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind." –Hamlet

That night, you're sitting in Spencer's apartment, his head in your lap as you both read. You can't help but think of Parker, of hearing him yell for the first time since you met him. The boy was always so quiet, except in class where he was engaged and able to answer every question, even if his answers were a little all over the place. 

"[Y/N]?" You hear Spencer ask and you look down at him, dazed. 

"Huh?" 

"You haven't even looked at your book for six minutes and twenty-seven seconds," Spencer says and you frown. You put your book face down next to you on the side table and rub your hands over your face. You feel hands at your wrists, and they tug slightly, pulling your hands away from your face. "What's going on?" 

"Just a student of mine yelled at me today," you say. Spencer frowns and you lean down, kissing where his brow was furrowed. "It's okay. I've just never seen him even raise his voice above a whisper besides when we're in class. And even then he doesn't yell." You pause, and sit back up. Spencer sits up as well and lets go of your wrists, leaning into your side. "A lot of the students and faculty don't like him because he's disruptive in class, but I know he's a good student. He's driven and knows a lot. He just needs to be pushed in the right way." You sigh again and lean over to rest your head on Spencer's shoulder. "I told him that I would finish editing his essay by the end of the week but he yelled at me, telling me to finish it right then and there. I told him I would finish it by the end of the day. I knew he wasn't going to stop asking, so I made a compromise I thought he could live with."

You look up at Spencer's face and see him frowning. "How long has he been like this with you?" 

You let out a huff of humorless laughter. "What, you jealous?" you ask, joking. 

Some of the tension eases from Spencer's face but he doesn't stop frowning.

"No, I'm not jealous. I'm just cautious." He looks into your eyes as he says, "You should be too."

You sigh and lean down, kissing him. "I know. I will be. I just don't want to push him away. I think I'm the only friendly face he has around campus…" 

Spencer nods, and opens his mouth as if to say something, but he closes it, and the two of you spend the rest of your evening in silence, unanswered questions lingering in the air between you. 

"Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall." –Romeo and Juliet

"You okay?" you ask Spencer one night while you're sitting on your bed together, watching something on your laptop. Tonight you were trying to get him into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but he seemed more distracted than normal. 

He looks up at you, a glazed look in his eyes before sighing. "The case we finished today? It was a stalker case. This man was in love with this woman and we had to make her tell him she was in love with him to get him to let his guard down," Spencer explains and you turn to face him, not saying anything. "We shot him. In the end. He died while the woman was sobbing into her husband's arms." You reach out and place a hand near Spencer, not touching him. He reaches out and takes your hand, kissing it. "I just keep thinking about how she'll never feel safe around another man again."

"You did what you could and you saved her life, Spencer," you say quietly and he looks at you sadly. "I'm so proud of you."

"But what about the people we can't save?" 

You sigh and kiss Spencer lightly. "You can't think about that. Think about the families you saved, the women, the children. You saved a life! That's amazing, Spencer."

Spencer smiles and nods but he doesn't look convinced. You just kiss him again and go back to watching Buffy. 

"<i>For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?</i>" –Much Ado About Nothing

You startle as a knock sounds at your door. You aren't expecting visitors. Spencer's out with work, and he said not to expect him back for a few days. It's only been two, and he can't have caught the guy that quickly already. 

But when you open your door, Spencer is standing there, his eyes puffy and red, and before you can ask any questions, he's pushing himself into your arms. You stumble back and close the door before sinking to the floor, letting Spencer cry into your arms. 

"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But Lust's effect is tempest after sun. Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain; Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done. Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies." –Venus and Adonis

"I love you," you say one evening while you're sitting on the couch, Spencer's head in your lap. You're running your fingers through his hair as you say this, making it fan out around his head like a halo of auburn curls. 

He cracks an eye open at you and smiles. "Really?" 

You roll your eyes. "Yes. I do. And I just thought I should say it," you say, and Spencer sits up, leaning in to kiss you. You put your hands on his cheeks and smile into the soft kiss. 

He pulls away and says, "I want you to meet my mom."

Your eyes go wide and you open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You frown before asking, "When?" 

"I have some vacation time saved and we could wait until summer break!" Spencer exclaims, causing your frown to drop. "You're not teaching again until the second half of summer break, so we can see her then." 

"I've never been to the west coast before…" you say, trailing off and looking away. Spencer goes to say something but you cut him off with a smile. "But, that's okay. I want to meet her." 

Spencer grins and grabs your face, kissing you like his life depends on it. You laugh as he gets up and runs out of the living room, whooping with joy. 

"I love you, Spencer Reid!" you shout. 

"Love you too!" he shouts back. 

"Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends." –A Midsummer Night's Dream

It's a week until the end of term, finals right around the corner, and you have been stuck in your office for most of the day. Most of the week actually. You gave your students the last few days off to study for their finals, and to finish their final essays for you while you finished editing the last of their work before you were bombarded with essays and tests. 

Your phone rings on your desk, but you turn off the noise, groaning as the red light beeps incessantly. It's been doing that for the past half an hour. You even had to turn your mobile off and shove it into an unused drawer of your desk. 

After another five minutes of the light beeping, you pick up your phone. 

"WHAT!" you scream into the receiver. 

"Uh, Dr. [L/N]?" you hear someone say quietly into the phone. 

"You know, I'm very busy right now and I can't handle distractions so if you would just-" 

"Someone's shooting up the school." 

Your blood runs cold as a knock sounds at your door, and you watch the knob turning. You gulp as the voice on the other end of the line tries to get your attention, but you can't hear them. All you can hear is the creak of your door as it's slowly pushed open. 

"Mr. [Y/N]!" You hear someone shout as they enter your office. It's Parker. And he's holding a gun. "I thought I heard you in here! Who are you talking to?" 

You go to answer, but the words die in your throat. 

"I- I don't actually know. They-they were calling to tell me about you," you say finally, hanging up the phone as the person yells on the other side of the line. 

Parker closes your door and walks over to your desk with a happy smile on his face. "I came to get you, [Y/N]," he says, and you force a smile onto your face. 

"Really?" you ask, hoping your nervousness doesn't give anything away. 

He nods. "It's just you and me now! Forever!" 

You gulp, but smile. "Uh huh…" 

"The only thing left in our way is that whore who calls himself your boyfriend…" Parker says, and your smile drops. 

"Spencer?" you can't help the wavering in your voice as you say his name. 

Parker nods and places his hand against his chin. "Yes. Maybe you can call him? I'm sure he's already on his way over here."

You gulp, but nod. You pick up your desk phone and dial Spencer's number from memory. While your memory may not be anywhere close to as good as his, you forced yourself to memorize it in case it was an emergency. 

After the first ring, the phone is picked up. "[Y/N]? Are you okay? I've tried calling you for the past twenty minutes and you haven't picked up!" Spencer exclaims on the other end of the line. 

You take a deep breath before looking up at Parker, who's smiling expectantly at you. He nods. "Spencer, can you come to my office?" 

"I'm outside. Is everything okay?" he asks. 

"Tell him to leave his gun and vest outside," Parker whispers and you nod. 

"You need to leave your gun and vest outside," you say, your voice shaking with every word. 

"Oh!" Parker exclaims and leans forward. "And tell him if he doesn't do all that, I'm going to kill you."

You let out a sob and say into the phone, shaking, "If you don't do what's been asked, he's going to- he's going to kill me, oh!" you exclaim, another sob escaping your lips. You hear Spencer start to say something, but Parker puts a finger down on the plunger and you hear the dial tone in your ear. You slowly take the phone away from your ear and look at it shaking in your grip. 

You watch absently as Parker's fingers brush yours, getting you to open your hand, and you let him take the phone, and put it back down on your desk. 

You keep staring off into the middle distance, even as Parker's hand rests on your chin. He turns your head and your eyes lock onto his. You can see the simmering rage bubbling underneath the feigned love that he's projecting. It's probably not even conscious. You don't know if a man like him even <i>could</i> fall in love. 

You hear a knock at your door and Parker moves away from you, but grabs your arm forcefully. Your hips push into the desk painfully and you let out a small whimper. Parker's hand on your arm relaxes slightly and he pulls you around your desk to stand next to him at his side, his gun pointed at the dark wooden door that is slowly opening. 

You see Spencer slowly pushing the door open, his other hand raised to show he's unarmed. 

"Stay there," Parker says, holding his gun level at Spencer's chest. 

"Okay. Okay," Spencer says, putting his other hand up. "No one needs to get hurt." 

Parker shakes his head. "No. No. They do. They're going to come in the way of us!" 

Parker looks down at you and you look up at him, wide eyed. "No, they won't. No one can come in between us," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Spencer's right. No one needs to get hurt."

Parker closes his eyes and shakes his head again. "Spencer, Spencer… Why Spencer? Why him? Why not me?" 

You grab his arm and say, "It is you, Parker! It will always be you!" you look over at Spencer, asking with your eyes if you're doing a good job, if this is what you should be doing. He gives you a miniscule nod. You remembered from before when you talked about guys like Parker. "I don't love Spencer. I love you."

Your heart breaks as you say this, but you know that Spencer knows it isn't true. Parker's the only one who needs to believe it. 

"Say it," he says, before looking over at the man in question, "to him."

You gulp and look at Spencer, leaning more into Parker's side as you say, "Spencer, I don't love you. I never loved you. I'm in love with Parker. Nothing will be able to keep up apart." 

"[Y/N]..." Spencer says, heartbreak evident on his face. Either he's a really good actor or he actually believes it. You sincerely hope it's the former. 

Parker nods when you look at him, and grins. "Let's get out of here…" he says, holding out his hand. You take it gingerly and he pulls your back to his chest, still holding Spencer at gunpoint. He flicks the gun further into your office, and Spencer moves with his hands up, tears streaming from his face as he moves across from you in the room. 

Parker backs up slowly through the room towards the door, his gun still pointed at Spencer. As soon as he steps out into the hallway, you hear the gunshot. 

You feel Parker fall behind you, and you run back into your office, falling to the floor, and only then do you start crying. You sob loudly, and when you're pulled into a chest, you only cry harder. 

You hear Spencer whispering to you, and you feel his tears on your hair, your neck as he says, "I can't lose you too. I can't. I just can't…"

You pull him closer, pulling your legs to your chest as you sob, "I love you. I love you so much. I didn't mean anything I said!" 

"I know," he whispers, kissing your head. "I know." 

"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." –Much Ado About Nothing

"I've never been to Vegas before!" you exclaim as you get off the plane. "Can we go to any casinos? I've never gambled before!" 

Spencer chuckles as he grabs your hand, pulling you through the airport. "We'll see. I've been banned from a few, so I don't know if they'll let me in…" he says, trailing off and you laugh. "Did you know that what most people think of as Las Vegas is actually called Paradise? In the late 1940s, after the second world war was over, the city of Las Vegas actually banned gambling. The rich gamblers in town weren't happy with that so they created a town called Paradise and made gaming legal there. Well, it's not a town, but more like unincorporated land that doesn't follow Las Vegas' laws." 

You grin and grab your bag when it comes around. While Spencer was talking, you had gone to the baggage claim and your bag had already been around once. While Spencer was used to traveling light, with only a go bag, you were not. 

"I did not know that," you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he pulls out towards the exit. 

You get the car he rented and you let him drive you to Bennington. He wanted to go back to the hotel for a night before seeing his mom, but you didn't want him to waste any more time. You would freshen up after. 

You and Spencer are ushered through the sterilized, but still personable, halls of the sanitarium, and into a large room with a couple of other people in it. You see a blonde, short haired woman sitting on a couch and Spencer starts walking over to her. 

When she sees him, her face lights up and she exclaims, "Spencer!" 

"Hey mom," he says, giving her a wave. "I wanted to introduce you to someone."

She turns and looks you up and down, before wringing her hands out and looking at her son. "Is this the man you told me about in your letters?" 

Your eyebrows raise at that and you ask Spencer, "You talked to her about me?" he looks at you, nervous, but you smile. "All good things, I hope." He grins and grabs your hand. You turn to Diana and hold out your hand. "Hi. I'm Dr. [Y/N] [L/N]. Spencer's told me so much about you. He really loves you." 

She smiles and takes your hand lightly before letting go. "Yes, he's told me a lot about you too. He loves you too," she says, and you smile at him. 

"And I love him," you reply. 

"Journeys end in lovers' meeting; every wise man's son doth know" –Twelfth Night