#like ill do pretty much anything if it helps me access the information i want or if i think theres an opportunity to learn

[the-paganwitch]

My Addition to the OcculTea Hashtag.

I've seen many creators post into this discussion, and as someone who isn't really and "influencer" parsay, but I have been online with my craft for many years now, so I have definitely seen a thing or to! I got inspired to add my own thoughts into this topic. This will easily be my longest post I've created. The picture above is from @prettyqueerwitch. I love how it looked and I wanted to use it. I hope this is okay! If it isn't, please let me know and I'll change it!

Introduction: Introduce yourself. How long have you been participating in the witchcraft online space? What practices and topics do you discuss primarily?

Hi! My name is Jess, also known as the-paganwitch or Redmonarch on other platforms. I am a 23-year-old and first discovered witchcraft when I wanted to curse someone. I know, a great start. That was back in about 2013/2014. I didn't really start getting into actively practicing until around 2017. My first time participating in an online space was through the Spells of Magic forum. I still have an account on there I check from time to time, but I'm not on it very often anymore. After that, I branched onto watching youtube creators. I now run a witchy email-based newsletter I love! I am an eclectic pagan witch with a primary focus on green and kitchen witchcraft, and crystal magic.

Topic 1: Impact On Community.

What is my personal reading/inspiration behind sharing my practice online? What am I looking to achieve by participating? Do I seek to educate, learn, or connect?

I feel inspired to share mostly to help others who may be just starting out and don't really know where to start. Which is the main reason behind my newsletter. I also like the feeling of community online. With my chronic illnesses and nasty social anxiety, it is really hard for me to be a part of an in-person community. So I do tend to rely on the online aspect. Though, I don't really have any online witchy friends.

How do I believe that social media, as a whole, has impacted the community?

I feel that it has both helped and hindered the community. It's kind of a grey zone to me. While social media has made it easier for others to connect and for more information to be shared on a global scale, it has also created a platform for less favourable people to gain a voice. Those who seek to spread hate and unnecessary harm to others in the community.

How do I think social platforms such as TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube have each impacted education/sharing information?

I would say that I could answer it similarly to the question above. It's kind of a grey zone. On one side, it has made gathering information easier and more accessible. On the other, it has lead to a lot of misinformation and has lead many to a ""my way or the highway" type of thinking. I have seen this type of thinking primarily on TikTok, which is why I had to deleted it personally. The community grew way too toxic.

Is consuming witchcraft content becoming a substitute for practice?

Yes and no. I know many hate on people who primarily consume content as a part of their practice, but something many always seem to forget about is us spoonie witches who many not always have the energy or spoons to practice all the time. Yes,I don't agree with the people who claim to be witches, but all the do is watch TikTok videos and never actually attempt to branch out to other areas or do more research into topics. These types of people, in my opinion, aren't actually witches. For some of us, we just can't always spare the extra energy to so spells or most types of magic. So consuming witchcraft media is the closest thing we have to practicing some days.

Topic 2 : Influencer Authority.

Out of what I share on social media, how much of it is staged vs. reality?

I am pretty open to sharing the reality of my practice. I don't really feel the need to stage anything. If I were to ever make videos, I guess then technically parts would be staged. But when I make posts or add personal notes in my newsletter, those are authentic and real.

Do I think there is an element of censorship in online spaces? How do I decipher what is "appropriate" to share online vs. what to keep privately? Is this based on "social media etiquette" or a personal preference.

As I stated above, I am pretty comfortable openly sharing my practice. I don't really censor much as of right now, unless it has nothing to really do with my practice. Even then, I don't mind sharing information if I am asked something. I would say it's all up to your comfort level on what you choose to share and what you don't. I also don't really know what social media etiquette is to be honest.

Have I ever encountered or heard of grifters in our community? Do I recognize them? What are significant signs of grifters in the community?

I have had people on mostly Instagram partake in grifting. Usually as fake tarot readers or offering to do break curses/hexes or "bring back a lost love". These people are pretty easy to tell. They almost always message you first, saying "I was drawn to your profile" or "I wanted to offer you a free reading". They do not want to give you any help, they are trying to scam you. Other forms I see are people who are not a part of the community trying to market or sell items overpriced. Or those who sell things at a way too low of a price. If it's too good to be true, it's probably a scam.

What tools are helpful to decipher misinformation, and how can we as a community prevent widespread misinformation?

Research research research! Always research, fact check, and be suspicious if something doesn't sound right or feel right. I don't really think we can do a whole lot about the spread of misinformation, but we can always fact check what we hear, see, or learn. We can also help lift the voices of those we do trust and those who share correct information.

How does a large following impact the perception of the creator? Does this immediately make them an "expert"? Or are there other assumptions as to why they may have a large following?

Being a popular creator doesn't make you an "expert". It can mean you may know more about somethings or that you share good information, but it doesn't make you an expert. Neither does practicing for a long time. No one can truly be an "expert" in witchcraft as a whole, in my opinion. You can be very well informed and know a lot, but you aren't an "expert".

How does one maintain the balance of authenticity and content creation?

It can be difficult maintaining authenticity when trying to make content if you are trying to keep relevancy or trying to become super popular. This is because you have to follow what topics are trending and you have to constantly be fighting with algorithms. This can make you lose authenticity and turn more into content farming. I think you can balance both as long as you are content creating without the sole desire of having relevancy or popularity.

Topic 3 : Imposter Syndrome and Fear of Missing Out

When I follow other creators in the community space, does it make me feel genuinely inspired and empowered or does it create feelings of fear of missing out and being less than?

I guess that would depend on the community space. In most places, I generally get a feeling of inspiration, especially when I get into a rut or burn out. The only community I felt negative more time than not in was on TikTok. There was always fighting, drama, and a push for you to buy certain things in order to be called a witch. If you didn't like this certain creator or you didn't agree with this exact way of thinking, you can't be a witch or you aren't a "real" witch.

If I experience fear of missing out, has it ever left me feeling vulnerable to be taken advantage of financially, or otherwise? An example would be - the "need" to purchase the latest popular product or book to "fit in"?

I can see where others, especially beginners, may fall into this way of thinking. You want to be liked in a certain community, but you feel you have to follow the trends or keep up with what everyone is buying. I myself don't really fall into this peer pressure anymore, but I definitely did when I first started. It's best to move away from communities and spaces that make you feel forced to buy products or follow one certain thing.

When practicing my craft, do I find myself comparing what I do to what I've been seeing people do online?

Absolutely. This has been a bit of a problem for me within the last 2-3 years. It really started when I developed my chronic illness and couldn't do everything I used to be able to do. I felt less than or that I wasn't really a witch anymore. I have been working really hard on allowing myself more leniency when it comes to my practice and my chronic illness. It's really easy to fall into the habit of comparing yourself and your practice to others you see on social media, but you have to remember that not everyone shows everything they do. They may only share 5-10% of their craft.

In what ways do I combat imposter syndrome?

I try to be gentle and kind with myself when I notice it coming up. I remind myself that everyone's craft is different and my won't look like someone elses, and that okay. The whole point of witchcraft is to make it suited to you and what you can do, and where you can grow and learn.

What would my practice look like without the social media influence of other creators?

Honestly, I don't think I would have really gotten into it as much as I have or I may not have actually discovered it. I was raised in an strong atheist household and was taught that that was the only right answer. But when I discovered witchcraft online, it was an eye opener. When I rediscovered it a few years later, it changed my entire life for the better. I am forever in love with witchcraft and I don't think I will ever give it up at this point.

Topic 4 : Capitalizing Off Community.

Do I consider online communities as equally valid to in-person communities?

I do. I may not alway partake in many online discussions or join community chats, but I do believe they can do some good to those that enjoy them or who what to make friends. There is a plethora of different groups and discussion forums out there for just about everyone.

How have online occult/witchcraft communities impacted me as a person and practitioner?

They have both helped and hindered me and my practice. Like I said above, some online practitioners are the reason I discovered witchcraft in the first place. Which lead me to falling in love with it and devoting my life to witchcraft. On the other hand, It has sometimes lead me to dislike the communities and witchcraft because of how toxic some of it had become, and how often I found myself hitting burn out after burn out because of it. I lost myself for a while with my craft. I had even questioned whether I wanted to be a witch anymore. I rediscovered my love for it all after I stepped back from a lot of communities I noticed were promotion toxicity and fueling separation.

What are some of the dangers of the current phenomenon of capitalizing off witchcraft community? Have I been personally affected by this, or have I witnessed someone else be affected?

I think a problem with capitalizing off of witchcraft communities is how easy it can be to scam or swindle new practitioners out of money. Another problem is fake products being marketed as the real deal. This is a HUGE problem with crystals honestly. There are many online shops claiming a crystal is real, but when you get it, it's a dyed glass or plastic. Moldavite, agates, opals, and quartzes are some of the worst for this happening. It drives me nuts!

Should there be paywalled communities and online courses?

I don't believe anything about basic witchcraft should be paywalled. I believe basics should be free to access for everyone and anyone. But I don't see an issue in asking for payment when you are teaching things beyond the basics. Especially for those who put lots of time and effort into learning and creating said courses. I can also understand why some communities are paywalled. I remember when witches were trying to make non-paywalled discord communities to anyone who wanted to join and what a dumpster fire they usually turned into. You can't always control who gets in and what they say or do. There isn't really an efficient method to keeping out hate and harmful people from communities without paywalling. Which is kind of sad.

How does one ensure the authenticity of courses/workshops/memberships/etc. as a financial investment?

You should always, always, ALWAYS look into the person offering said things before you partake. How long have they been practicing? What beliefs do they hold? Do they align with yours? Are what they saying seem fishy, suspicious, or too good to be true? These are things you should always think about before paying to be a part of something or paying someone for courses.

Conclusions:

What are some topics of conversations I'd like to see more of in our community?

I would love to see more discussion on witches with disabilities or chronic illnesses as I feel it's not talked about or discussed enough.

What are my community needs?

For me to want to be in a part of a community, I would need to feel supported and that there is open discussions without judgement because someone's craft is a different then others. I like being in communities with a similar beliefs, or with witches who are into the same things as me, but that is purely personal.

Where would I like to be held and supported? Where do I feel like I'm not truly being seen by my community?

I pushed these two together because they have the same answer. I am personally not too worried about being held or seen in any community. Mainly because I am not really making content to become something or a popular creator. If I gained a large following, that's cool, but I am not actively trying to do that. If people like what I post or share and want to follow, that's awesome! You are more than welcome here. But if others don't care for what I do, then that's okay too. Whatever one you vibe with, it's good with me.

How can we help each other in removing the external peer pressure and grow in the community?

By reminding each other that you're craft is your own and does not have to follow anyone else's. There are no set rules to witchcraft, and if someone tells you there is, they are not being truthful. Witchcraft is what you make of it. We can flourish when we support each other practitioners differences.

How can we, as a community, come together more with constructive criticism without it seeming shady or passive aggressive? How can we, as a community, do better when we do receive criticism/feedback?

I would say we should watch how things get worded, firstly. Secondly, instead of writing something when in a high state of emotion, think about what you want to said first. Really think about it. Is it coming from a place of genuine help, or a place of attack or offence? Same can go for when we receive criticism. Think about what someone said before responding, especially if you don't fully understand what is being said. If you're confused about it, ask the person to elaborate. There is nothing wrong with asking to gain more insight into what the person is thinking and where they're coming from.

Who are some community members that I look up to that are reliable resources and aspirations?

Ariel Gatoga, Chaotic Witch Aunt, Hearth Witch, Witchy Tips, The Green Witch, Harmony Nice (no longer uploads), Ginny Metheral, Alwyn Oak, The Lunar Witch, The Witch of the Forest, The Wholesome Witch, Anastasia Moon, and Molly Roberts are the creators I look to the most for information and learning. I've watched many of these creators for a while now. I would say Ariel Gatoga was my biggest reason I got really into witchcraft and I would see him as my mentor. I learned the most of what I know from him and his podclasses.

Further thoughts?

I can't really think of much else to add. I do implore you to step back from social media from time to time to find yourself and discover what you truly love and discover where your strengths are. If you're in a burn out, or don't have much energy recently, that is okay. Allow yourself to rest and recover. Step back from witchcraft for a little and discover something new outside of your practice. Stepping back from witchcraft doesn't make you any less of a witch. We all need to take a step back to look at the bigger picture. You might find out something about yourself you may have never known.

[foxbirdy]

Help, I'm kinda stupid (bad brain disease and chronic illness shit) and scared but I really am wanting to do field work shit. I'm almost graduated from college but feel like I learned pretty much nothing and don't feel like I'm employable at all. I am highly motivated but I just like, don't know what the future holds!! How do you be a person with a job? How do you do the difficult things you do?

Hello ♥️ before I get into this I must give a disclaimer: I am by no means an expert! I am just some guy. I can share what I've had smacked into me over the course of my adult life, but it's definitely not gospel. Take anything I say about my own lived experience with a grain of salt, because it might not necessarily be true for you! Ok. Disclaimer over, let's get into it:

1 - Anon, you are not stupid. If you almost have a degree, you are killing it! I cannot even tell you how many people I know in field work who hated getting their undergrad with the passion of a thousand suns, and scraped through it by the skin of their teeth! I know lots of people who don't have degrees at all, and have no intention of getting one! Be proud that you almost have your degree.

2 - I do not have my degree! I am still working on it. I have a couple semesters to go. Everything I have done has been in the context of being a student, or someone with some college coursework and some practical experience. My brain is also not designed for the higher education system! The ADHD that makes me miserable in university work (understimulated, unfulfilled, unfocused) is also what makes me thrive in the field (performs best in high-stress environments, prefers novelty to routine, settled by working with my hands and body, excellent multitasker, intense focus on physical project work). Do not equate your ability to be a model college student with your employability.

3 - You already have the chiefest qualification required for fieldwork, which is that you are highly motivated! I've said this before, phrased differently, but the quality that most opportunities are looking for in a candidate is sheer audacity. The willingness to do crazy shit. The belief that you can do anything if you try hard. They need someone who's motivated enough (or unhinged enough) to say things like: "Yes, I will sleep on the ground. Yes, I will eat weird food. Yes, I will hike into work every day, hauling gear. Yes, I will not go crazy if I can't access the internet for weeks at a time. No, I will not turn homicidal if I'm working, eating, and sleeping with the same eight people for months. No, I've never driven a truck and trailer, but I will learn how. No, I don't have that certification, but I will get it. No, I've never used that software, but I will figure it out." If you can a) endure difficulty with enthusiasm, and b) not be phased by unknowns, you are more than halfway there.

4 - Put yourself out there! Drag yourself out of your comfort zone, within reason. Apply to things you think you have no chance of getting! Apply to things that scare you a little! Do research. Figure out what you want to do, and start where you can. Ask for help - it will make you connections! The worst that anyone can say to you is "no," and that isn't so bad. Sometimes it's easy, and sometimes you have to work at a coffee shop for a few months in-between jobs. Sometimes you'll have to wait for weeks to get more information on travel, and sometimes you have to pack your bags and get in your car within 72 hours. Go with the water cycle, move with the ups and downs. Be confident, be adaptable, have audacity, and nail your resume to the door of anything that looks cool. Godspeed and good luck out there!

[lepurcinus]

I saw your post on the German rabbit care guide with interesting views.

As someone who has experience with over 13 adult rabbits and been autisticly researching them to death I can give you some care advice.

With food-

Hay is extremely important and not a supplement.

If you want to go with the natural root, it still stands. Wild European rabbits are mostly grazers, only supplementing their diet with greenery and roots when they can/when grass is not available. Hay is the human alternative to constant access to grass. This is why farm rabbits/horses/sheep with rotating grass access don't need hay but stable/pet based and over-wintering farm animals do.

Pellets - you technically only need a small amount. I only feed a bowl full as mine can only have so much access to hay due to their hutch space.

Greenery- you do not need to feed daily. I only feed kale once weekly as it is high in calcium (too much causes bladder sludge). I feed no other greenery unless I have some. If anything too much greenery is problematic as it scours.

Socialization - yes they are social

A very tricky topic. They benefit from pairs but only if spayed/neutered. They will fight otherwise. Only spay/neuter if you can find a good vet as I understand not everyone has access to a rabbit savvy vet.

To complicate things more is the view on mammals. Pet parrots are just as social (if not more) and it is not frowned upon to keep singularly if you provide enough enrichment and human companionship. The same with dogs. However step into the Territory of guinea pigs/rats/ferret/chinchillas/gerbils and of course rabbits and people will throw a fit over it.

It is perfectly fine to keep a single rabbit if you socialize with them and provide enrichment.

Wire floors- not good

It used to be an old practice to have wire floors in hutches. It was done so the droppings and urine would fall into a collection tray umderneath or floor instead of where the rabbits stand. Not now though.

Turns out rabbit feet are delicate and it can cause sore hocks. Some rabbits can "tolerate" it but it is very uncomfortable and gets hot in the summer.

It is better to either spot clean (clean just toilet corner) daily or litter box train instead.

Health to look out for-

Wheezing/snotty paws and face- check with vet for the dreaded snuffles. Technically a name for many things. One is extremely dangerous and if treated early is survivable.

Red urine- red urine is not a problem. Certain food/normal hormones can make your rabbits wee weird coloured. Only be concerned if it is very sludgie (bladder sludge) or it looks like someone has dripped a drop of red dye in it (this IS blood in urine).

Soft stools- cecotrophs being left could mean being overfed or illness. Try reducing food first. True soft stool could be indicative of too many greens but also stomach upset. Check with vet If not overfed greens.

Not eating or pooping- take up the vet immediately. Treated with Oxbow critical care TM. This is a food powder to be mixed with water and syringe fed. It needs feeding every two hours in the morning and every four hours evening. This will stop GI stasis which is fatal for herbivores of any type (especially rabbits).

If you ever need any help with information, feel free to ask :)

Thanks for the information! I certainly appreciate the hassle for wanting to respond based on that random post.

I can say that I'm sticking to those guidelines pretty well, so I don't feel bad about knowing there's something off there hahaha.

The thing about my post was more because of the weird confusion that was generated for me, I didn't trust that site too much to tell you the truth and like I said there were things that sounded very strange. (I mean if it's THAT bad as they make it out to be then I think there should already be more warnings about it and less recommendations).

I'm going to leave this in the blog as a general guide just in case, and more if anyone wants to see. Again thanks 🐇👌

[ariapmdeol]

I don't think I have to sign these anymore lol but still, 8:11 anon back once more

Yeah I noticed that S was canon, considering the start of the DLC implies such. I should have been patient, my bad.

Purple? Damn it genuinely looks blue. Easy mistake to make, thank you for clarifying. And noted on the ending conditions, it's all very interesting just how much matters.

Kanou even in death and specifically after threatening Atou, still wants to help out. RIP <3 and I figured something akin to that? My running theory was that he might have been a doll at that point or something of the sorts.

I'll finish what's currently in the playlist and then see about contacting you, thank you.

UTSUGI THE WET CAT THAT REALLY NEEDS THERAPY PLEASE THIS MAN. They all suck. All these men suck and that's why they're so incredibly good characters.

Oh, do you have links to those solved ciphers, if you don't mind? They sound fun!

And oh! I completely forgot about Seodore disappearing from the picture and seemingly his entire existence. I assume that has to do with the DLC start sequence, so I won't ask but am very intrigued.

All these changes are so incredibly cool. This game is awesome. I wish I had better words but it's just so goddamn good.

I'll also reply to the music answer as well: WEEEE glad my instinct was correct!

If I may, next one for consideration because I have Hajime and Utsugi brainrot: The Good In Me by Jon Bellion. Without thinking it over twice. Yes I am going insane over these characters I love gay tragedies where both parties really need help.

And!! I am so willing to shout about 8:11 once you start playing it. So good

I HOPE YOU HAVE FUN WITH THE DLC!! the first scene of the dlc is actually one of my favorites in the whole game (oughghgh i understand whats going on there i explode).

I'll put the solved ciphers under the cut, though be warned that they won't make sense to you yet! These show up in DLC and the DLC 2020 credits, and i'll end with the ones from the artbook (alas no images for those bc we're not supposed to share artbook things publicly BUT i think the ciphers are fine).

YEAH. YEAH YEAH YEAH!!!! THIS GAME IS SO GOOD. every single detail is planned out in INCREDIBLE DETAIL, there's foreshadowing for things that only show up in Interlude as early as chapter FOUR. I HIGHLY recommend a rewatch after catching up completely, as certain information completely changes the context and makes some documents stand out more sdakjdkaslj. this game is so good COE forever!!!!! like. the ending variations mean EVERYTHING YOU DO MATTERS, and makes it VERY difficult to get S root first try (the youtube TL showed this, but there is unique text if you get S root without getting any of the others first. Similarly, if you do S and then E root, there is bonus text (Which the youtube TL showed as well!)

ohh this is an interesting pick for hajime and utsugi! I think it's very neat :D im not as familiar with the lyrics for this one but i think its a cool choice! my personal hajime and utsugi picks are With a Billion Worldful of ᐸ3 - Mili and 神曲 - R sound design (THERES A REALLY PRETTY ANIMATIC FOR THIS ONE BUT IT'S DLC SPOILERS orz ILL SHARE WHEN YOU CATCH UP).

ciphers: some have screenshots, some don't! anything bolded was encrypted.

DLC record 4: (italics is red text)

This is a concept you shouldn't know. Dante sealed it away. What right do you have to access this place? If this information were to be disclosed, it would be unstoppable. I need to do this to the end. I hope that those who have inherited the Sephira factor share the same motive as I.

DLC 2020 Credits:

reference definition: earth execution name: line A target period: 1912-2019

the border says 'square circle'

Draft: God

ARTBOOK:

the image of the Lantern says 'Protagonist'

the image of a certain character and with a horrifically warped text box says (bold is one cipher, bold+italics was in a diff cipher, normal text was displayed normally):

Unhandled writing operation has occurred in record __. ‘saving data…’ Error: player character does not exist. 2019-05.

fukao why did you do this one in two different ciphers. FUKAO. EVERY OTHER CIPHER IS THE SAME ENCODING EXCEPT FOR THE 2019-05 FUKAO WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME (this last one stumped me for a long time. i learned a lot of random skills in order to study cell of empireo)

[weineroutzen24]

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[theunaestheticstudyblr]

UNIVERSITY WITH MENTAL ILLNESS

Mental health and illness is already hard enough, but adding school pressure on top is hard. High school was easier for me since there is a lot more structure and a lot less choice, which is why I'm targeting this towards college and university students.

Firstly is attending class. Getting to class is a major hurdle, especially with a commute like me (1 hour+) broke people problems lmao. Driving that long to go to a class just to drive back home is already exhausting and unpleasant, especially knowing professors will post slides or something after class anyways. But you have to drag yourself there. One thing I do to help is dress up. I'll do my makeup and put on nicer clothes. Why does this work for me? I hate wasting stuff, especially money and to me, putting on makeup is spending money essentially (same logic as using rare items in a video game idk). I can't just sit around the house and waste the money I just put on my face so I gotta go to class. Small things like this to trick your brain works so well. Before this, there was a restaurant I absolutely loved next to campus so if I went to every class for two weeks I would reward myself by going there. Another thing that helps is making plans with people ahead of time. They'll hold you accountable on days that you can't.

Take rest days. Schedule one whole day a week where you don't do school or go to work. It's a day completely off for anything. I use this day to do chores in the morning and then just lay around and do absolutely nothing all afternoon and night. This helps recharge and reduce stimulation and socialization. It gives your brain that little rest it cries for every day. I used to panic so much about this one day because I could be working and making money or studying or doing anything to be productive until I had a week where I couldn't do anything because I broke down completely, mentally and physically. Now I see it as a preservation day. I use this day to recover from everything.

Make your notes pretty. I hate going back and looking at my messy class notes. Everything is scattered and messy and I get frustrated. What I do instead is make a virtual, concise copy that is pretty to me. I'll add little sketches, color, pictures, etc. This helps draw my attention and allows me to study while doing it! Making the second copy forces you to go through the material after a class is over and review the material to decide what is truly important and then organize it all and then rewrite it all. This has been a huge help.

Use class breaks to snack or grab coffee. One thing I have found in many people with high anxiety is that food and drinks really help calm you down. I've found some research suggesting it's because food is a signal that things are safe and therefore makes you more relaxed, though I don't know much about anthropology and psychology fields. I find this really helps to calm me down after I had a very stressful test so that I can be more present for the next class. Gum helps a lot on high anxiety/panic days as well.

Download the notes or slides, especially if posted ahead of time. This way you have access even if you don't have wifi. You can even pull them up in lectures so you don't have to focus on the board the whole time. For my people with autism, this has helped me so much. There are times where you can't focus on the professor and the slides and the sounds and writing, so doing this cuts out having to watch the teacher and the board. Bonus points if you can record during lecture as well so you can revisit parts that you zoned out in or couldn't focus on.

Keep a journal or diary and list your activities, food, weather, etc in it as well as your mood. This can help you find correlations to hack shit. My favorite way of doing this is through the Daylio app (I wrote a post about it here). Like I notice that days when it's rainy, I study and read more and days where I walk more and eat breakfast, I focus better and am happier overall. This information helps so much. If I know it's going to rain tomorrow, I won't try to force myself to study a bunch today and instead save that energy for later. Instead, I'll take care of myself and go for a walk or something. Knowing how you work and why really makes a HUGE difference.

This might just be my autism brain, but finding cool things related to the topic at hand has helped me keep interest in at least a little of the subject, helping me study more. Like I don't like chimaeras (a fish group) BUT for some reason I love fish teeth and these fishes have a very unique tooth set. This at least let's me know something instead of just ignoring and forgetting everything. 20% is better than nothing.

Find a reason to study what you do, even if it's just that you need this class to graduate. Just taking classes for no reason seems like something neurotypical people are able to do. I can't do it. I need a reason and if I can't find one, I just give up. I used to always say it was useless and pointless and didn't understand why it was required. But I realized the reason to take it is because I want a piece of paper that says I traded lots of money and sanity for it. And that reason has to be good enough.

Make study games. Games are more fun than lifeless paper. Matching games, crosswords, coloring pages, whatever you like!

Feel free to add your tips to this post as well!! I always have room for improvement and experimentation, especially for really hard days. I still find myself skipping even online classes some days. No one had all the answers or has everything figured out. This is just an incomplete list of things that have helped me out a bit and made college life a bit easier.

[urbancripple]

I apologize if someone has already asked this, I looked but I didn’t see anything, I’m sorry if I missed it.

I’ve been disabled a while now, but I never mentioned it, and refused to talk to doctors about it. I’ve finally decided to try and get help, but it’s really hard. I’m worried the doctor won’t believe me, or will blame it on my mental illnesses, and I’m also worried that it is actually just from my mental illnesses. The reason I’m worried about it is because I don’t want the doctor to waste time and money getting me tested for things, just to figure out it is from mental illness. I’m worried about being a burden. I’m worried about the doctor diagnosing me with somatic symptom disorder or munchausan syndrome.

So my questions are: is there a way to tell if it’s from mental illness vs physical illness? How far should I push the doctor for testing before accepting it is mental illness? (Since doctors where I live are pretty ableist, and often ignore diagnosing/treatment of zebra disorders, im not quite sure when to trust that the doctor has actually done enough testing, vs when they just don’t care enough to do more testing) And do you have any tips for settling anxiety while trying to bring up my symptoms?

Hi! Welcome!

The first thing I wanna recommend is that you consider seeing someone about what seems like a lot of anxiety around going to the doctor.

The question "is there a way to tell if [my medical symptom are] from mental illness vs physical illness?" is a really, really good question that I (and most everyone else on this site) are not qualified to answer.

I do have a fair bit of experience navigating the American healthcare system and one bit of advice that I am comfortable giving you is this: bring data, not conclusions when you talk to your doctor about your symptoms.

Every day, write down the following information (this is not an exhaustive list):

What time you went to bed and any symptoms you experienced (or didn't experience)

What time you woke up and any symptoms you experienced (or didn't experience)

Everything you eat and when you ate it and any symptoms you experienced (or didn't experience) shortly before and after.

Any time you experience an onset or termination of symptoms (date and time)

What your mental state was at the time of onset or termination of symptoms.

Your exercise.

How much water you drink.

How much caffeine you consume.

Any time you take a prescription or OTC drug.

Add anything else you feel may be relevant. But be consistent. Choose a format and a routine and stick to it! The more consistent you're data is, the easier it will be to analyze.

I know this sounds like a lot and it is. There are apps to help you track all of this. But gathering all of this data will help your doctor(s) get a better picture of what's going on with you. It'll help them see potential causes and make it easier to prescribe treatment.

And remember: it's not your job to diagnose anything based on the data you're collecting. That's the doctor's job. Left up to our own devices we're just as likely to decide "colon cancer" instead of "that pepper was too spicy" every time we're wincing on the toilet after too much Indian food.

And it doesn't matter if everything is "in your head" because literally everything happens in your head. You are reading this because light is hitting your eyeballs and being processed by a sack of grey mush we barely understand inside of a skeleton. We are all just sacks of meat powered by lightning.

How you are feeling is valid. Mental health is physical health because the brain is inside the body.

And again, seriously, see a therapist. They'll help you formulate a plan to talk to your doctor about your symptoms as well as help you deal with the emotional strain of navigating American healthcare.

If nothing I've said helps or doesn't answer your question, feel free to submit another ask. Usually, I'd put answers like this on my main site so others can more easily access it but your question felt specific enough to answer it here.

If you want to see what other folks have asked me about dealing with doctors, you can go here

[morganaspendragonss]

quédate un segundo más (1/8)

@911lonestarangstweek day 8 - t is for...tumour, terminal, treatment

title from voy a quedarme by blas cantó, translates roughly to 'stay a second more'

thanks to @halsteadmarchs and @tarlos-spain for the beta!

as shown above, this will be eight chapters if all goes to plan, and i hope to finish it before season 3 begins. much of what is written both in this chapter and in future ones is ripped directly from life and i am only writing from my own perspective and experiences of losing a loved one to cancer.

ao3 | 1.6k | angst, hurt tk, cancer, terminal illness, more warnings to come in future chapters

A rare genetic mutation.

That’s what the doctors tell him when the results come back.

A rare genetic mutation that has rendered his cancer practically undetectable until its latest stages, until all that’s left to do is wait to die.

TK’s hands shake as various leaflets on Managing Your Diagnosis and What To Expect and Looking After Someone With Cancer are placed in them. He feels two steps to the side of himself, his entire world halting in its tracks the moment those words had left the doctor’s lips.

“I’m afraid it’s not good news,” he’d said, eyes wide and empathetic. “Your scans and blood results have come back showing evidence of a tumour on your pancreas. There are treatment options which we can and will—with your consent—pursue, however I have to inform you that your cancer is entering stage IV. It has begun to spread to your bladder and liver. I’m sorry to say that, at this point, treatment is more focused on managing your pain and making you as comfortable as possible; we do not anticipate recovery.”

It’s just… TK’s fine. He feels fine. Like, sure, he’s been a little more tired recently and he’s been getting these weird pains, but they always fade after a while, and he’s fine.

But he couldn’t deny the blood spotting his pee, the last straw which had finally sent him to the doctor’s office.

Too late, apparently.

A touch on his knee brings him back to reality with a start. TK looks up to meet the doctor’s kind gaze, and he wants to cry.

“I understand this is a lot to take in,” he’s saying. “If you have any questions, please ask.”

“I…” TK shakes his head, swallowing a couple of times before dropping his eyes to his knees, the words on the pamphlets blurred through his tears. “How long?”

The doctor hesitates a moment, then sighs regretfully. “I can’t say for certain. People frequently outlive their projected timeframes; equally, it could be less. However, given the way your tumour looks and the rate it appears to be spreading at, I would estimate around six months.”

Six months.

Six—six months.

“Oh,” TK says, and it feels wildly insufficient but it’s all he has. What even is there to say? He’s dying, and that’s...that’s that.

“Do you have a support system in place?” the doctor asks. “This is going to be a difficult process, and you are going to need other people to help you through it.”

TK nods slowly, not looking up. “M-My husband. Carlos. He was supposed to come with me today but he was called into work last minute. He’s a detective, so he couldn’t exactly refuse—not that that stopped him from trying.” He laughs wetly, remembering how he’d insisted that everything would be fine when Carlos had stalled leaving this morning. “And there’s my dad, and my team—my family. I’m a paramedic and I work in a fire station, so we’re all pretty close. I… Shit, I’m sorry. You don’t need to know all this.”

“It’s okay.” The doctor is still smiling, still so understanding, and TK wonders—just how many times has he had to do this? “I’m glad to hear you have solid support behind you; that’s going to be incredibly important for the coming months. I’ve also given you a few leaflets about support groups you can access, that your family can access, and, of course, your treatment team will be there every step of the way.

“Now,” he continues, returning to a semi-professional aspect, “I want to see you later this week to iron out how we’re going to proceed. For now, why don’t you go home and rest, allow yourself to process this? Does Friday at 10.30 work for your next appointment?”

TK nods absently, clutching the pamphlets tight enough to crease them. “That’s fine,” he whispers.

“Okay,” the doctor says, just as quiet. “Are you going to be okay to get home?”

“Yeah.”

But he doesn’t move. He can’t. In this room, he’s separated from the rest of the world—TK doesn’t want to go back into it, where he’ll have to tell everyone he loves that he’s… That he…

“TK.”

TK’s head snaps up at the doctor’s voice and he flushes a little at seeing his pointed look. “Sorry,” he mutters, scrambling to stand up.

The doctor stands too, much more gracefully than TK, and gets the door for him. “It’s okay. I’ll see you on Friday, TK, alright?”

He mumbles an affirmative then steps out of the office, taken aback for a moment by the bustle and noise in the corridor. It’s strange to witness it now, to see all these people who don’t know him from Adam going about their lives, while his has, in the span of thirty minutes, completely crumbled.

TK takes a deep breath (and how many of those does he have left?) and joins the flow.

*

He’s home.

That’s… He doesn’t remember it. He must have unlocked the front door because the keys are in his hand and he’s standing in the entryway, but TK has no idea how he managed to get from the doctor’s office to here.

He made good time though, judging by the clock on the wall.

Small victories.

With heavy steps, TK walks to the sofa, easing himself down and tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. It still doesn’t feel real that there's this—this thing inside him, growing and mutating and killing him. He’s not sure when it finally will.

Maybe in a few months, when his skin is sagging off his bones and his hair is gone and even the very act of breathing is a challenge.

Or maybe in a few hours, when Carlos comes home and TK has to break the news. TK can picture his face now, the way his ever-present smile will crack and break, the shock and hurt and grief that will take its place.

He thinks he understands his dad now.

TK closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind, just for a moment, of everything that’s happened today.

Which, as it turns out, is a mistake, because that’s when he remembers the letter that came for them yesterday and the phone call they’re going to make after dinner.

The phone call they were going to make after dinner.

TK wants to scream at the unfairness of it all. They’ve been waiting for that moment for so long, the moment in which they found out they were finally cleared to adopt a kid. And now…

Gone.

Carlos is going to be crushed.

As if the universe is reacting to that last thought, the door suddenly swings open, marking Carlos’s return from his impromptu shift. For a moment, TK panics. He’s not ready, dammit, he needs more time to plan and to figure it all out, how he feels and what he’s going to say, but—

But, in the end, it doesn’t matter. He could have had the most detailed and well-thought out plan in the world and it wouldn’t have mattered.

Because all it takes is one look at Carlos’s smile for TK to fall apart.

Carlos is by his side in an instant, gathering him in his arms and sliding to the floor with him when TK can no longer support himself on the couch. TK fists his hands in his husband’s shirt and cries into his neck, all the emotion that’s been slowly building all day exploding from him all at once.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carlos shushes, which only makes TK cry harder, because how is he supposed to tell him that it’s not?

He shakes his head and clings onto him tighter, feeling Carlos do the same to him in return. TK’s always felt safe in his arms and it’s no different now; he thinks that, if he can just stay here forever, maybe things will turn out okay after all.

But the moment ends, as they tend to do. When TK’s sobs have run dry, Carlos carefully pulls back from him, his hands rising to cup his face and wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks softly, so much worry in those damn eyes that it hurts. “Is it… Did the doctor say something? Are you okay?”

TK opens his mouth, but the words refuse to come out. All he manages is a wordless shake of the head, and even that turns Carlos’s expression into the picture of devastation. He can’t bear to look at it, so he wraps his arms around Carlos’s waist and leans into him again, resting his head on his chest.

Carlos holds him and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “We’ll get through it,” he promises. “Whatever it takes.”

And it turns out that he does have a few more tears left in him; TK squeezes his eyes shut and breathes out shakily as a couple of lone drops fall down his cheeks. “We can’t,” he whispers hoarsely. Carlos stiffens and shifts as if to look TK in the eyes, but TK doesn’t let him. If he has to look at Carlos, he doesn’t think he’ll have the courage to say it. He hesitates a moment longer, a huge lump forming in his throat, but eventually he manages it.

“It’s cancer,” he chokes out. “Stage IV. Incurable. They think… I’ve got six months.”

It’s like time stops.

They’re both motionless on the floor of their front room, neither saying anything, barely breathing as the weight of it settles between them.

TK doesn’t know how long it lasts for, but suddenly Carlos sobs and grips onto him with a bruising strength. Carlos’s body heaves and shakes with the force of his cries, and it’s TK’s turn to hold him as tears drip down Carlos’s cheeks into his hair.

And, in that moment, it becomes real.

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Flesh, Part 1

Excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

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And now we come to what you’ve all been waiting for, the meat of this book {Editing Note: Boooo}. The gory details, such as they are, of how we acquire our flesh. It’s a topic that’s captured the public imagination for a long time - we’ve all heard plenty of lurid stories and speculation all our lives. I frankly wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve skipped straight to this chapter to finally hear it straight from the monster’s mouth. I’ll do my best to satisfy your curiosity. Understand, though - this topic is deadly serious, and more than almost any other subject I’ve covered, I’m aware of the danger inherent in revealing this. If the information I lay out here compromises these avenues of flesh, people will die for it. I will tell you as much as I can without risking that outcome.

{Editing Note: Everything after this needs strict review, and not just from me. Get as many eyes as possible on this before publishing.}

Nearly every ghoul has or will participate in the direct acquisition of flesh at some point. Finding food is an involved process, and not a particularly scaleable one. There are no factory farms for humans, nor should there be. Truly steady supplies of flesh are rare. Most of our methods involve gathering a small group of ghouls periodically, rather than just one or two of us working continuously. This, unfortunately, causes inconsistencies in supply more often than is comfortable. As such, we’ve had ample opportunity to figure out exactly how much flesh we need to survive. 

For the average mature ghoul, 5 pounds of flesh per day is the ideal consumption rate. Very roughly, we should be eating one adult human body per month for peak health. Put that starkly, it’s a grim picture. Extrapolate from that, and that means each of us is eating 12 humans a year. Obviously, we don’t eat that much from the moment of birth. I remember starting to get hungry more often around age 15, and I can count on one hand the number of ghouls I’ve met over 50, so let’s call the 35 years between those two ages our lifespan. Over the course of our lives, we will each eat over 400 humans. When you look at it from that angle, one life against 400, it’s no wonder that you have, as a whole, decided that we need to die.

But that angle misses some important subtleties. For one, we can handle some remarkably flexible feeding patterns. We can subsist on much less than an ideal diet for a very long time without serious ill effects. For example, I follow a fairly common feeding pattern and only eat half-meals three weeks out of every four. The only ill effects I notice are increased exhaustion and soreness, usually beginning towards the end of the second week and gradually escalating until the fourth. We can also go for multiple days without eating before noticing any ill effects. Many ghouls have only one or two very large meals each week. I personally prefer to have smaller meals more consistently - it makes me feel more human - but it’s a pattern I’ve followed plenty of times when flesh is scarce.

The other main subtlety that the math I presented above misses is that, often, we do not have to kill for flesh. People die all the time from causes that have nothing to do with us, and rarely in ways that make their flesh inedible. We have hardy constitutions and strong stomachs - most diseases and toxic chemicals can be processed and rendered inert in our digestive tracts. There are nearly three million deaths every year in the U.S. alone, the vast majority of which have nothing to do with us. If we could utilize all of that flesh, we could comfortably feed 250,000 ghouls without harming a single person. Obviously that’s never going to happen, but I also doubt there are that many ghouls in the country, so… Suffice to say that there is, theoretically, more than enough ethically-sourced flesh to go around.

Utilizing that flesh, however, is a significant logistical challenge. People aren’t in the habit of donating their bodies for our dining pleasure, and people tend to take the security of their loved ones’ remains pretty seriously. Taking flesh by force, even when we’re not trying to part it from a living body, is difficult, dangerous, messy work, so we prefer to sidestep that wherever possible. This brings us nicely to the first of our three main strategies: farming.

Farming is, unfortunately, our least productive method, but it’s the one that I hope we’ll be able to rely on entirely, some nebulous day in the future. Farming is the practice of discreetly smuggling dead flesh, produced by natural causes, out of the facilities where it is held. This is the only method we use that is sustainable, in the sense that it requires one or two ghouls working constantly and delivering a steady supply, rather than the periodic group efforts I described earlier. This method is also unusual in that it depends on us being integrated in human society, integrated enough to have unsupervised access to dead flesh.

There are two primary sources that we farm. First, there are hospitals. Countless surgical procedures result in the separation of flesh from living humans. Sometimes this flesh is passed along for scientific analysis, but most of it ends up classified as medical waste sooner rather than later. As I’ve said, though, we can safely handle most of the factors that cause limbs to be amputated or organs to be removed. Once these have been marked for disposal, ghouls working at the hospital can usually hide away the flesh for later retrieval without anyone noticing its absence. Unfortunately, caution requires our farmers to take less than is truly salvageable, given how damning it is to be caught stealing flesh. They also avoid taking whole cadavers, which are much more closely observed while in the hospital, and are typically handed over to other people rather than fully disposed of. We also, as a general rule, are careful to avoid eating anything cancerous. Tumors are something of a taboo, only to be eaten in times of extreme famine. We are as vulnerable to cancer as humans are, and there is a strong fear that eating tumors may cause you to absorb some of the cancerous cells into your own body, where they will be free to grow again. I can’t speak to the truth of that, but it’s not a fate I’m interested in tempting.

Our other main farming source is funeral homes. Contrary to popular perception, and to government defence policies, we actually have very little interest in robbing graveyards. By the time bodies go in the ground, they’ve usually been rendered inedible by embalming practices. Given how robust our digestive tracts are, it’s my theory that embalming practices were, at some point in history, specifically designed to protect human bodies from us. Obviously not all bodies are properly embalmed, but there’s no way to tell that without digging one up, and digging up a grave is hard. It is far more beneficial for us to intercept the bodies before they get to that stage. Therefore, we find it very valuable to train as morticians. This allows us to take cuts of flesh before a body is embalmed. Over the years, we’ve figured out exactly how much flesh can be taken and from where without showing at an open casket funeral. For closed caskets, or for cremations, we can take nearly the entire body without detection.

{Editing Note: That’s going to be upsetting for anyone who’s ever buried a family member. I’m not sure how to address that gently. I don’t know how receptive most people would be to “it’s okay that we ate your grandma because it means we got to live long enough to eat other people’s grandmas”.}

Unfortunately, there are a limited number of jobs with access to farmable bodies, and as the number of ghouls in those positions increase, so does the chance of one of them being discovered. Some of you, I’m sure, have seen how paranoid everyone gets when one of us is outed among you. We can’t even come close to fully utilizing these outlets without risking a lot of us dying. My household is fortunate - three of our members are farmers, and we may be gaining a fourth, depending on what degree Scarlet actually settles on. But that supply of farmed flesh is not always enough to feed all of us, and it certainly isn’t enough for Yaga’s charity projects. So about once a month, we send out a group to engage in our second method - gathering.

As I said, there are a lot of deaths that have nothing to do with us. Gathering is our attempt to get ahold of some of those dead before other factors take care of them. Death is, unfortunately, unpredictable, so the best we can do is send people out at irregular intervals to scoop up what we can. A gathering party typically consists of at least half a dozen ghouls; the exact size depends on the amount of ground we want to cover, how many bodies we expect to be transporting, and how worried we are about getting into a violent confrontation. Ideally, no one gets hurt by our gathering parties, but no one is going to look too kindly on body snatching, and sometimes we just attract the wrong kind of attention. If we need an especially large group, or if we intend to cover a particularly large area, we might even reach out to other households for extra help in exchange for a share of our find.

A gathering run typically begins at night, in the poorer parts of the city. I’m sure gathering happens in rural areas, but I can’t speak to their methods. In the city, though, it’s the poor and the homeless and the addicts, the abandoned of human society that are most likely to die somewhere we can get to them. So we put on anonymizing clothing and start looking. Our most reliable leads come from homeless communities and drug sites. Sometimes it’s enough to just show up, make small talk, and look around for the dead or imminently dying. If it’s the latter, sometimes we just wait - keep them company while they wait for the end. Unfortunately for us, people don’t generally die all at once at predictable intervals; it’s not uncommon for us to find no bodies at all. Fortunately, there are some people who are desperate enough to sell us leads. Buying leads is a dangerous game - any person who knows us to be ghouls, even if we take pains to conceal our identities from them, is one more person who could bring the exterminators down on us - and the more effective the method of gathering leads is, the more dangerous it is. The safest thing is to find a stranger and offer them money for a lead, one time deal, and never contact them again. Regular contacts have more opportunities to expose us, whether for exterminator money, moral duty, or just by being careless, but if they know to expect us, they can amass leads, or sometimes even hold bodies for us to buy off them directly. I’ve heard that some households even have arrangements with organized crime to act as free, efficient body disposal.

Once we’ve thoroughly checked these areas, the next step is to check accident sites. Typically we’ll separate to stake out common suicide and accident sites. These aren’t particularly reliable either, but they turn up bodies often enough to be worth staking out once we’ve exhausted our more proactive options. Sometimes, on particularly slow gathering parties, we’ll break out a police scanner and listen for any incident reports likely to produce a body and see if we can get there before the cops. It’s a dangerous game, and often no more lucrative than our other approaches, but there is nothing more depressing or upsetting than coming back from gathering empty handed. Coming home empty handed means we need to take more drastic measures.

I’ve been on around a dozen gathering parties so far. Most of them went well enough, with minimal incident and moderate success. I’ve been on two where we had to chase police scanners. And I’ve been on one that came back empty-handed. That isn’t the only one my household has ever run that came back empty-handed, but it’s the one that stuck out most in my mind because it’s the one time I felt personally responsible for what happened next. When our regular gathering still doesn’t produce enough flesh, we have three options, none of them pleasant. We could all tighten our belts, ration our flesh carefully, and try to endure until we can make up our shortfall. There are a lot of factors that can make this approach unsafe, though. Starving isn’t any more pleasant for us than it is for humans, and it can make us less careful than is safe. Or sometimes someone is injured or sick and wouldn’t be able to handle stricter rationing. Our next option is to organize a gathering raid. There are plenty of hospitals and funeral homes that we can’t farm, for one reason or another, but sometimes we can steal from them. This is a high-risk endeavor, obviously. Anywhere that handles human remains is on the lookout for this kind of thing, and even if we get away clean, the raid will almost certainly make the news and bring exterminators sniffing around. That’s not even touching the fact that, just because we aren’t farming somewhere, that doesn’t mean someone else isn’t. The kind of scrutiny a raid draws can be a death sentence for any ghouls working at the raid target. So, most of the time, Yaga chooses to take our third option. She calls for a Hunt.

{Editing Note: I need to talk to Spatha before I write the rest of this. I need to convince her that I’ll just listen this time, and then I need to actually do that. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t want to reopen this wound between us. I don’t want to risk our friendship. Is this project really worth that? Do I seriously think it will make a difference?}

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 6

Bitches Be Shopping

What is up y’all. A little late but let’s jump in with episode six of The Seven where our girls have just received a LOT of information, Sam most of all who got put into a little vision coma that she’s just now waking up from.

She explains the vision to her friends (as she interprets it, the other Eidolons didn’t die, just became part of the natural forces of the world) and then the bear that Penny made on a whim last episode (who is Russian, named Koda, and somehow a trained circus bear) gets into a fight with Katja with their friends buffing the two to make things more interesting because these are still idiot teens, life or death situation or no. Yelle decides to be the adult and tells them to knock it off and get back on mission.

That means Katja needs to call her dad since he’s knows the guy who’s the best lead to getting to TK ( Talcidimir Tallbreeze who I’ll call Tal). She actually manages to get her dad this time who is inside a giant snake on his hell mission. Katja asks what he knows about TK and he says she’s a sorcerer but also has a spell book so maybe she’s multiclassed. Sam and Ant desperately want to know if they boned and Katja absolutely is not interested in that knowledge. Yelle decides to just ask which makes her dad a little annoyed since he’s kind of in the middle of something (literally) and that annoys Ant, Ost, and Sam who--respectively, accuse him of gaslighting Kat, cast Command on him, and cast Bane on him to aid the Command spell. 

Mr. Cleaver fails the save and Ost commands him to tell Katja the truth. He admits that he did hook up with TK and he regrets it (note: it wasn’t like he cheated. It was just a casual hookup that wasn’t fulfilling it seems). Ost demands he apologize for not being there for Kat and Sam berates him for being at the top of the world and not lifting up his daughter too. For his part, Kat’s dad seems genuinely apologetic and promises to do better. 

“You don’t need to be the best father, you just need to be there,” Katja says, making her dad break down crying. 

Yelle, who has no daddy issues, is a bit less aggro and says that everyone makes mistakes and he can start making it up right now by helping with the Tal situation. She also gives them the tip that a cold spell will probably get them out of the snake lickety split.  She is on the money with the snake tip and Mr. Cleaver gets them all invites to a masquerade ball Tal is hosting. It’s being held on the Rumbosa which is this city-sized leisure ship. Mr. Cleaver says he’ll be back as soon as he can and, in the meantime, she should take care of her friends, “even the first 2 that were terrifying to me.”

The girls give Katja the axe they took as a birthday present (it was apparently her birthday the day before which Rekha just decided and Ost/Izzy refuses to accept without a fight because she *knows* Kat’s bday) which is identified as the Axe of Sundering (it can shatter objects, people, and sometimes concepts like halving movement). The two unnamed potions Yelle found are also ID’d as a Potion of Fly and a Potion of Gaseous Form. She distributes the Heath Potions to people without heals. Ant’s new arrows bypass some resistances and let her treat whatever she hits with the first one like it’s her favored enemy. 

According to their invites, the ship they need is docking in the city of Gravalvia soon (a very old city in the Baronies) so they need to figure out a plan. They have some downtime, during which:

Zelda tries to hype up the team.

Zelda tries to see if Ost is OK wrt dad stuff and Ost has a Full Breakdown after badly pretending she’s fine. 

While Zelda, Ost, and Penny are being Emotional and Sam is trying to literally cool them down with her powers, Ant and Yelle keep watch and experience emotional stability as the Adults Of The Party 

Anyway, after a night of rest, they head to the golden city of Gravalvia which is this very cool, very pretty city with mosaics and fountains and I assume columns. They get there and there’s a dramatic fight happening in the square which is halted when one of the fighters realizes that the country he’s fighting for doesn’t exist anymore. And now, it’s time for what we’ve all been waiting for. Shopping Montage! Let’s go girl by girl.

Katja and Ost

Kat asks for help from Ost with getting fancy for this gala since she’s never really done anything dressy before (and she had no mom to help--Kaaaat) and Ost is happy to oblige, dressing them both like “Jersey trash”. Kat, of course, still wears her Khakis underneath.

Antiope

Ant decides to get a vibe for what people here wear and picks something that will blend in but be forgettable so she can be stealthy. Classy blue dress and mask.

Penny

Penny...OK, I absolutely cannot describe what happens here in any way that will do justice to the scene. I am going to tell you what matters to the plot. You have to watch this yourself if you want to see the entire table have a collective breakdown. 

While looking for a costume, Penny runs into a halfling who is a member of the Society of Shadows--Laertes. He wants to know why she hasn’t responded to their invitation yet. She says she’s really eager to join, she just wasn’t sure how to respond (and also, she’s kind of in the middle of something). He says she can join by just messaging back and then her loved ones just have to sign waivers to have their memories wiped of her and she’s good to go. Say what now? asks Penny. She didn’t realize this was like a full Men in Black situation. 

He says it’s ultimately her decision and leaves.

Of course, I left out the parts where he ate a handful of Candy Heart’s remains, became violently ill, almost projectile vomited into Penny’s mouth, and she tried to kiss him despite him being a full adult. It’s A Lot, ok?

Also, we don’t find out until later but Penny picks a sexy duck costume for reasons that make more sense if you watch the scene but not *much* more sense. She also burns one of the healing potions on this dude as he is bar

Danielle

Danielle tries to get some info on the guests at the party and gets the names Lawrence LaDuc, Princess Autumn, and Duston who is the playboy cousin of Tal. She also hears some dude saying some colonize and plunder the earth BS and casts Heat Metal on him, fully mercing the dude. Ice cold. 

She tries to play it off like it’s the Curse of the Forest and when that doesn’t work and people start coming for her, she wildshapes into a dragon wyrmling and starts roasting people, killing 1 and dropping 2 to zero. 

Unfortunately, one of her party members is a known dragon hater and uses her new arrows to snipe her right out of the sky. Ant is horrified once she realizes what she’s done but Yelle says it’s all good. It’s NOT all good, says Ant, I STABBED YOU. You’re allowed to be mad! Yelle says she’s just really good at compartmentalizing but what Ant’s getting here is that Yelle doesn’t really believe that her feelings matter which echo the fears of her moms. 

Sam

Sam uses a combination of Mantle of Inspiration, glamour magic, performance, and good old flirting to get herself some killer clothes and also start a spontaneous musical number Giselle style.  

Brennan says she looks resplendent and, honestly, when does she not?

They reconvene, Zelda in a classic hoop skirt. Yelle realizes she never got a costume and just whips out a Met Gala level, autumn themed, Queen Mab-esque costume with Druidcraft which she could have done this whole time so I guess that’s why she was cool spending her shopping time getting gossip and playing Poison Ivy. 

They get to the ship and the way this works, everyone has to make an entrance and the really rich people (including Tal) are on a dais up top watching everyone come in. They all have to give fake names for the night since it’s a masquerade and they have to do Performance or Persuasion checks to see how impressive they look going in. 

Before they go in, they plan a little. Penny wants to look for TK. Sam wants to find Dunston. Ost wants to talk to the bouncers. Yelle wants to see if there are plants she can manipulate (there are btw) and for any exits. 

A quick rundown of how these all go:

Katja aka Mere (which means both mom and horse): 16 

Ant aka Midnight Huntress: 18 

Penny aka Penny Duckstone: 13

Zelda aka Madame Goodparty: 2 (Poor Zelda)

Sam aka Songbird: 22 (but she takes a hit to entrance save Zelda from totally flaming out)

Ost aka Stanley Gucci: 13

And Danielle, who never hogs the spotlight and is embarrassed to admit that maybe she does want to be the center of attention for once in her life with a Natural 20, gets a 29, absolutely bringing down the house as Empress Anima. As she walks forward she feels a voice say to her, “You got this. I love the name. You wear it well.”

Tal seems very impressed by her and a lady in a rabbit mask (Coeliabranca who I’ll call Coel if she comes up more) comes down to bring her up to the top with the high rollers. As she leaves, Sam casts Fly on her, just in case and holds the Concentration. 

Ost and Kat go talk to the bouncers and Kat decides to pretend to be her mom to get access to the area Yelle is. She rolls low and is told, “Hey, aren’t you already up there?” Kat is like, fuck and Ost saves her by using her charm earrings to get an entourage of guards who will let them through and do what she says. Once up there, Kat doesn’t see her mom which I can imagine she has mixed feelings about. 

Sam finds Dunston who is talking about Fantasy Bitcoin and seems like a real “Step on me mommy” type you know? Like, I feel like he’s into findom. Anyway, Sam charms him and his hangers on and learns about a procedure called a Phlebectomy that involves something going into their nose and then they feel better. Sam is rightfully horrified because, as I said, she is Most Likely To Survive A Horror Movie and can sense BS when she sees is. It’s apparently all the rage with the rich people here which is, como de dice, concerning seeing as they’re surrounded by them but we’ll get to that. Sam takes advantage of Dunston’s proclivities and gets him alone, knocks him out, steals him clothes, and pretends to be him (a *very* good scene by Sephie). 

Penny sees a gnome gnome boy (Lysander Higgins) shining shoes and finds out from him that there is a copper earth genasi woman here. In a very Cinderella move, she asks what shoes she was wearing. Then, she makes out with him which like, sure. At least it’s not a grown adult man this time. Before she gets her kisses in, she does tell the group what she learned. 

Up with the rich people, Yelle is introduced to Tal’s friend who is into Eidolons because of the name she chose. Between the shoes and her knowledge, they confirm that it’s TK! Yelle asks what she knows about Eidolons and she says that 7 is a very powerful number.

We cut to Ant who is patrolling the room as the sun sets and she suddenly hears a little beeping. It’s coming from a small crystal that was in Preston’s shirt (which she still has on her because???). Guests start dripping goo from their noses and transforming into monsters. Ant realizes that some kind of spell is happening triggered by midnight and this beeping. Hope these costumes are battle ready cause it’s fight time baybee!

Superlatives 

Danielle: Most Likely to Be on The News for Murdering Fantasy Jeff Bezos

I cannot imagine what was running through Yelle’s head when she decided that, having just rolled into a foreign country, her next move was to start using lethal force on anti-environmentalist colonizing capitalists. Like, she’s not *wrong* per se but she is wild--in all senses of the word.  

Random Thoughts

Kat keeps saying yesterday was her birthday which Ost/Izzy (and the rest of the group to a less vocal degree) are simply not having because maybe her dad would forget her birthday but her girls absolutely would not.

“You’re great because you stayed,” is the other killshot Kat line to her dad.

At a certain point Sam says, “This is so unhealthy,” to I think Yelle and like, if SAM is telling you your coping mechanisms are unhealthy, get thee to therapy.

OK, so someone, presumably Anima’s spirit, talks to Yelle as she makes her grand entrance which seems like info they should get to Talura ASAP, right? Cause that’s evidence they’re not dead-dead, just changed in form. But also Anima, girl. Don’t talk to Yelle. Talk to your rampaging sister!

"That's my secret, I stay in initiative."

Just a process note, notes are taken for the next ep and I am working on getting that recap up ASAP. As a battle ep, it will be in the abbreviated style that I did for last battle ep. 

In this episode, Penny rolls a Nat 1 (which she rerolls) and one of Brennan’s NPCs rolls a Nat 1. Ant rolls 2 Nat 20s, Yelle rolls 1, and Brennan says that one of his NPCs gets a 20 which sweeps him entirely into Sam’s dance number. 

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

part 8

Masterlist

She was only unconscious for a few minutes at most, but the way that Namjoon reacted to it would have made anyone think that she’d been in another car crash. He’d very swiftly scooped her up from the floor and deposited her on the bed propping her up against the pillows and giving her a stern command not to move while he went to inform Miss In of the incident. Given the fact that her head was still swimming, she didn’t argue choosing instead to remain lying on the mattress willing the nausea to go away and the room to stop spinning.

When Namjoon returned a few moments later, he took the liberty of planting himself right next to her at the head of the bed.

“Could you move?” She glared weakly at him from her position propped on the pillows, but her only response was an unamused stare and an arm being thrown over her shoulder to pull her into his side. She felt too ill to really put up more of a protest.

“The doctor will be here soon.” He spoke after a few moments of silence. “His orders are to keep you in bed until he arrives.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.” She huffed groaning as she tried to shift away from him.

The man sighed tucking her back into his side. “Lay still. You’ve already fainted once today. I warned you that all of this upset wasn’t good for you.” She seemed to deflate at that. Of course he had to be right. It was the cherry on top of everything that had happened today. “I know that today has been hard on you, but you need to rest.”

“Today wouldn’t be so hard if you had just let me leave. I could have been home by now.”

He chuckled looking down at her fondly. “How could I let you leave? The game isn’t finished yet, jagi.”

“Is this all a game to you? Is my life a game?” she demanded pushing herself up against the pillows to glare at him.

“Rest, jagi.” He sighed leaning against the pillows with a sigh. “You can fight all you want after you’re better.”

A knock on the door pulled both of their attention. “Enter!” Namjoon called allowing a man she could only assume was the doctor he had called for to enter the room. And she had to do a double take. Were all the men who worked under him secretly super models? The man who entered was perhaps one of the most handsome men she had ever seen in her life.

“Namjoon!” The doctor greeted with a bright smile. The informality of the greeting surprised her. No one else had referred to RM by his name, even more odd was that Namjoon allowed it.

“Seokjin.” He greeted though without the same warm smile. “I expected you earlier.” There was an admonishment behind those words though it didn’t seem to faze the doctor.

“I was dealing with Jungkook. Kid got all bruised up during a job.” The man shrugged. “He’ll be fine. Kid’s built like a tank.”

“Is this the patient?” He asked moving over to the bedside medical bag in tow. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the lady yet, well not while she’s been conscious. I’m Kim Seokjin, the doctor for the knuckleheads that hang out around here, but pretty ladies get to call me Jin.” He flirted winking at her. “How’s that head feeling?” He asked her shooing Namjoon off the bed so that he could have better access to her.

She stared at the man sizing him up.  He looked kind enough, but looks could be deceiving in this world. If she had met him before her life had gone to hell, she would have assumed that he was nothing more than a kind doctor, but she knew better. If he willingly worked for Namjoon, if he was a friend of Namjoon, he couldn’t be as innocent as he seemed.

“It hurts.” She finally answered.

“I bet it does.” He hummed bringing out a thermometer to test her temperature. “I heard you took a fall. Can you tell me what happened?” The man seemed completely at ease even with Namjoon hovering over his shoulder.

“I stood up. I got dizzy…”

“She’s been agitated all day.” Namjoon interrupted crossing his arms over his chest. “She vomited once after she woke up, tried to jump out a window, and fainted after she stood up.”

The doctor hummed noncommittedly, but kept his focus on her as if waiting for her to answer for herself.

“I’m fine.”

“Y/N.” Her captor scolded.

“I’m fine.” She snapped back sick of the coddling, sick of Namjoon.

“He is right, Y/N.” Seokjin frowned bringing a flashlight up to her face. “Can you look right at my nose please? That’s great. Can you follow my finger without moving your head? Good, good. You took a rather hard hit to the head, Y/N. You’ve got a bit of a concussion. Normally I would do a CT to confirm, but I don’t think, Joonie will let us do that today.” He loudly whispered to her in a dramatically conspiratorial way.

“Hyung!”

“Joonie?” She snorted holding back a laugh. RM one of the biggest crime bosses in Asia was being called Joonie by his hyung. It was surreal.

“Let’s take a look at that cut shall we?”

“Go for it.”

The doctor lifted up the bandage apologizing as she winced as the adhesive pulled. “Well that doesn’t look good.” He cooed taking note of the raw itchy skin under the bandage along with the cut that he had stitched up.

“I’m allergic to medical adhesives.” She murmured keeping her eyes on the bed spread.

“What?” Namjoon seemed to perk up at that information. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

The look she leveled him with bordered on disbelieving. “I’m sorry if that slipped my mind during the whole kidnapping thing.” She huffed before turning a far gentler eye to the doctor who was looking over the wound with concern. “I found out a long time ago. It’s fine. It’ll itch and blister a bit, but it won’t do any long term damage. How’s the cut, doc?”

“Well, it’s not pretty, but the stitches are fine. It should heal up nicely. I’m going to clean it and then put a fresh bandage on alright?” She nodded her understanding allowing the doctor to do what he needed to do and wincing at the feeling of the antiseptic. “I’m going to send over some ointment for the blisters okay?”

“Thank you.” She murmured. She may have hated Namjoon, but the doctor was nice enough. She had no reason to be rude to him.

“Let’s take a look at those bruises okay? Can you sit up for me?” She nodded again allowing the doctor to help her sit up. “Namjoon, can you step outside for a moment?”

“No.”

Jin sighed turning towards the other man in annoyance. “I need to check on her bruising. If you hadn’t hit her with a car I wouldn’t need to. Now, give the poor woman some privacy. You can come back in after I’m done.” Namjoon didn’t move. “I’m not going to let her jump out a window, Joon.” Still no movement. The poor doctor looked like he was about to punch the crime lord or at the very least slap him upside the head.

“You hit her with a car. You bruised her up. Now I’m going to have to partially undress her to check on the bruising, and the least you can do is give her some privacy.” No movement. “I’ll call you in after I’m done. Go.” He ordered.

Finally Namjoon moved giving them both a wary look but following the doctor’s instructions and leaving the room. Jin didn’t make a move to do anything until the door had firmly closed behind Namjoon.

“Okay, Y/N. I’m going to help you undress. You have some bruising on your side from the crash. Is that okay?”

He was gentle waiting to do anything until he had her consent. He carefully undid the zipper at the back of the dress slipping the straps from her shoulder and allowing the garment to pool at her waist before draping a throw blanket over her to preserve her modesty. She decided then that she definitely liked this doctor more than she liked his boss. He was kind.

“It’s not too bad. I don’t think you got the worst of the damage, but you’ll be tender for a few days at the very least.”

Her ears perked up at that. “Do you know how the other passenger is doing? Eun-ho. Officer Choi Eun-ho. He was in the car with me. Is he alright?”

He sighed the easy smile falling from his lips replaced by a more pitying look. “I think he’s at the hospital. I don’t know much though.”

“But he’s alive?” She asked choking back tears as she did. “He’s alive?”

“Yes, he’s alive. As far as I know, he’s alive.”

“Oh thank god.” She sobbed hunching in on herself and allowing the tears to fall.

The doctor sat down beside her gently rubbing circles into her back as she cried. “It’s alright. You’re going to be alright.” He cooed letting her get it out of her system. “Namjoon isn’t a bad person. He won’t hurt you.”

“I just want to go home.” She sobbed.

“I know. I know.”

They stayed like that until her crying had calmed down. He helped her back into her dress, and even helped her clean up her face.

“You’re going to be alright, but I have to let Namjoon back in the room now.”

“Okay.” Her whisper was hoarse barely audible, but it was there.

He hesitated looking like he wanted to say something more. “I know this is hard, but you can always call on me if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” He nodded leaving to go get Namjoon.

“How is she?” Namjoon asked striding into the room and back to her side his eyes scanning her from head to toe. “Why does she look like she’s been crying?”

“It’s been an emotional day.” He shrugged not giving away anything else. “She’ll be alright, but you have to rest.” He admonished her sternly but gently, almost motherly. “And you.” He turned a stern gaze on Namjoon as well. “No more upsetting her. I don’t want any more calls saying that she fainted.”

“She’ll be alright?” Namjoon asked moving to sit on the bed beside her again.

“She’ll be fine so long as you don’t go upsetting her.” Seokjin sassed. “Now, Y/N. I’ll be back in a few days to check on those stitches, okay.”

“Sure, doc.”

He smiled and ruffled her head like a brother would. “Only light activity. Light foods so that they won’t upset her stomach, and plenty of fluids.” He ordered.

“Thank you, hyung.” Namjoon nodded patting his friends shoulder. “I’ll take care of her.”

“No upsetting her, Joon. I mean it. She’s been traumatized enough as it is.” He waggled his finger in the younger man’s face, and Y/N had to stop herself from laughing.

“I understand, hyung. Don’t you have other patients to see?”

Jin laughed walking out of the room, and Y/N had to do a double take. It sounded like windshield wipers, actual honest to god windshield wipers.

part 9

[trashylvania]

Black Lives Matter, amirite?

I'm near-certain that the only possible context for your sardonic response is a post I made yesterday about wanting to get my mom out of the dangerous neighborhood she's in because I'm terrified she's gonna be a victim of violent crime, and instead of quickly contradicting your implied assumptions and calling you a racist and a troll, I'm gonna use your question as my framing to talk about some issues I don't see people discussing often enough on here. I've been meaning to write a long-form political post for a while, and your response has given me an excuse to finally do so. I write about and study these topics academically in the social sciences + public policy studies and want to share some of what I've learned, in case you or anyone reading is interested.

As for racial stereotypes regarding crime in Chicago (the city where my mom and I are from), some high-crime neighborhoods in Chicago have a notable, historical racial component thanks to generational disadvantages imposed by a housing policy known as 'redlining' from the 1930s to the 1960s: as a quick summary, this was a primarily racially discriminatory practice that essentially prevented majority-black families from moving out of the inner city by designating them as too high of an investment risk for banks to provide home loans, which really started devastating majority-black communities once deindustrialization hit and factory jobs left -- leading to a rapid increase in poverty and loss of most employment opportunities within those communities. (Here's some links on this phenomenon: history of redlining in Chicago, effects still felt today in communities historically affected by redlining, and a research journal examining how practices like redlining isolate these neighborhoods from the rest of the city and create essentially a bubble of violent crime).

However, despite your implicit assumptions, that's not the case in the neighborhood my mom and I are from. In this case, both the victims and perpetrators of crime are from all backgrounds: black, brown, and white. Why? Because our neighborhood, like many in Chicago and across America, has been heavily affected by the Opioid Epidemic. The real criminals, systemically speaking, are predatory and negligent pharmaceutical corporations.

While the running narrative and assumption is that the Opioid Epidemic is really only a problem in majority-white, poor rural communities, it isn't (and side note: if your activism neglects or shuns poor rural and urban whites, you don't really give a shit about actual social justice, please clout-chase elsewhere). The Opioid Epidemic's effects are way more far-reaching than people might realize and has absolutely decimated poor and working-class communities all throughout the country, inside and outside of cities; the residual effects of the policy failure known as "the War on Drugs" (which in practice was more of a "war on the poor, black, and brown") has absolutely served to exacerbate these issues, but is also entwined with government lenience on corporate crimes, corporate lobbying for deregulation policies, lack of access to information resources and infrastructure for public healthcare in both rural and inner-city areas, the stigmatization of addiction and mental illness, the Global Economic Recession of 2008 and its effects on employment, deindustrialization and economic globalization's twin impact on the loss of American manufacturing jobs, etc that has lead to a social, economic, and cultural epidemic of nationwide despair that has yet to be addressed with substantive national policy in a holistic manner. (Here's some links: a research article that I think is one of the best overviews of the Opioid Epidemic's causes and impacts, a research article that details how pharmaceutical companies dodge litigation and includes the results of court cases and how paltry the consequences were compared to the devastation their drugs, negligence, and profit-seeking cause, a manuscript on research and policy aimed at combating the epidemic and how it affects socioeconomically depressed groups such as incarcerated people, veterans, and rural communities, and a well-sourced article that is admittedly politically biased towards my view that single-payer healthcare is the only substantive policy solution for the Opioid Epidemic and widespread health issues in general).

Pretty much everyone knows at least a few people who are addicted, or who overdosed, or were killed by drug-related violent crime in areas like this. That's messed up, and because it's ultimately perpetuated by corporations and its impact is greatly exacerbated by class, I don't expect this administration or rich neolibs on Twitter moralizing for social capital to do much of anything substantial or give a single genuine call to action on it. This opens up a whole conversation about how social justice has been co-opted by wealthy interests who have eclipsed class issues with weaponized identity politics -- before anyone gets angry, identity politics are still worth addressing especially as they intersect with class issues, but sufficiently analyzing this topic in a critical manner easily warrants its own separate post. (Nonetheless, here are some links on how easily social justice narratives can be manipulated by those with wealth and influence to ultimately perpetuate inequality and retain the economic status quo: - an excerpt from Manufacturing Consent that describes this phenomenon, which has existed long before the advent of social media, an article with a link to a great report about how social media politics are not representative of the majority of Americans' views [crucial if you care about effectively communicating your goals and motivating people to help your cause; also surprisingly, the linked report illustrates that most Americans in the real actual world are more tolerant than given credit for, and their issues with social justice stem from how activists - primarily those based in social media - approach political discourse], and a fantastic article about how neoliberalism's hyperindividualist fracturing of identity has negatively impacted substantive progress).

So, all in all, I see the damage done by the influx of opioids in my old neighborhood and the violence it precipitates due to a lack of proper rehabilitative and medical infrastructure for poor and working-class people. People with addictions are treated like criminals and thrown in my county's overfilled prisons. It pisses me off that this isn't addressed enough, because it's an absolute outrage, and exposes how these systems would rather let our classes kill each other or die before holding pharmaceutical corporations properly responsible and instituting universal healthcare for poor and working-class people.

I hope to see a call in the near future for more cohesive discourse and activism that isn't harmfully devoted to the atomization of identity and that isn't dictated by academics in the Humanities, wealthy influencers, establishment politicians, celebrities, or Extremely Online activist personalities -- all who are out of touch with real-life people, the issues they face, and how they speak about and view them through their own lens. Because if you want meaningful progress, ignoring or paying mere lip service to class/economic issues -- and their impact on sociocultural issues -- will ensure you never actually get progress as long as you willfully look the other way.

[elianamarie-blog]

The Things You Give Part 2 Steven Hyde x Reader

Author’s Note: I hope you really enjoyed Part 1! Here is part 2 and I’ll put a link to access part 1 if it’s your first time being here. Leave a heart and subscribe to my blog if you want more! Thank you and stay safe, folks. 

Warnings: None

Part 1 here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/elianamarie-blog

The next morning, Y/N found herself waking up at noon. She cursed at herself because she hated waking up late knowing her day was now gone, but at least it’s Saturday and her day off from work. She dragged herself out of bed and trudged her way down into the kitchen where she was greeted with Red, Kitty, Steven, and Eric eating lunch at the table.

           “Well, good morning, sunshine,” Kitty greeted, looking up from her glass of lemonade. “Or should I say ‘afternoon?’”

           Y/N yawned as she plopped herself in a chair across from her mother. “I was up late last night.”

           “Doing what?” Red questioned like she didn’t have any good excuse.

            Y/N eternally cursed herself as her eyes flitted towards Hyde’s wide ones for a split second. She didn’t think this through. “I-I just couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning.”

           “Again?” Kitty asked. “This has been happening for the last couple months. You might be suffering from insomnia. At first I thought it was because of your finals and looking for colleges, but this has gone longer than that. You might have insomnia.”

           She chuckled to herself, relieved. “Yeah, probably do.” She grabbed a sandwich from the middle of the table and at the bag of chips, dumping it on her plate.

           “Eric, what’s your plan for today?” Red asked.

           “Well, since I’m on my one year of doing nothing, I’m going to answer with nothing,” he responded with no emotion in his voice.

           “Wrong,” Red answered harshly, like he normally does when he spoke to Eric. “You’re going to trim the hedges, sweep the driveway, and fix the dent on the Vista Cruiser.”

           “Dad, that’s like eighty bucks!” Eric cried. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

           “Then it looks like you’re going to have to get a job!” Red said.

           “But that just interferes with my plan!”

           “Exactly,” Red responded slowly. “If you’re going to live in my house you will do as I say. Or you can drive around town with that big ass dent.”

           Eric thought it over for a split second before pointing at Red. “Can’t Y/N pay for it? She has a job.”

           “No!” he said. “She’s not the one who put the dent there.”

           “Neither did I!” Eric argued. “Mr. Fitzgerald ran into me.”

           “And don’t worry, I already talked to him, but unfortunately our insurance won’t cover it. So it falls on you to replace it.”

           “This totally blows, man. I’d rather drive around town with the dent.”

           Red rolled his eyes at his son and turned to face him fully. “Why can’t you be like your sister? She got a job straight out high school working at the bridal store, applied for college in Denver, and has her life planned out. While you sit there eating my food, taking up my heat, taking up space, being a no-good bum.”

           “Red, honey, that’s enough,” Kitty interjected. “Let’s just enjoy our lunch.”

           “Dad, I only stayed because of your heart attack!” He shot back at his ill-tempered father. “You know, to take care of you guys. I could be in Madison right now.”

           “And that’s worked out great so far, hasn’t it?” Red spat.

           “You’re so ungrateful!” Eric said, clearly hurt. “Why can’t you just say ‘thank you’ for once?”

           “I would if you just do something around the house,” he responded, his voice raising. “Pick up on household chores, work and bring a paycheck home, help your mother out, take me to doctors appointments. Anything other than sitting around all day playing you’re your toys.”

           “Red, you’re going to give yourself another heart attack,” Kitty informed him. “You need to calm down.”

           Red put his hands up. “Fine, fine. But I want those chores done today, Eric. And if you half-ass it, I’m going to make you do it all over again, plus cleaning out the gutters and fixing the leak under the bathroom sink.”

           Eric grunted. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

           Red nodded, pleased he won the argument and turned back to his meal. It was silent for a moment, the air thick with tension. Hyde and Y/N just sat there, eating quietly and stiffened. Well, not so much Hyde because it was always amusing seeing Red yell at Eric, but for Y/N it was different. Even though she was used to the constant fighting, their argument had never been this intense.

           “So,” Kitty said, clearing her throat, trying to ease the conversation. “Steven, how’s work going?”

           “Oh, you know, working at the kitchen is great,” he said, taking a chip to his mouth. “Ever since Kelso and Eric left, things have been pretty quiet. We hired a new server so it makes things a little easier.”

           Kitty beamed proudly at him. “I’m glad to hear it. What about you, dear?” she asked turned to Y/N .

           “It’s good,” she responded. “Helping brides pick out their dresses. It’s nice and easy.”

           “Well, good,” Kitty replied and patted her hand. “I’m so proud of you. Although, you’re going to have to leave me to go to Denver.” Her smile turned into a sad one and her voice cracked.

           “Mom, I haven’t even been accepted yet,” Y/N responded, trying to comfort her mother. “Who knows, I might end up going to the college in Kenosha or staying to go to the community college here.”

           Hyde sat up a little straighter, hope filling him.

           “Have you applied to them?” Red asked.

           “Well, I applied to Denver first and then if I didn’t get in, I was going to apply to Kenosha. If that didn’t work out, then the community college here since I can just go sign up.”

           Red beamed at her proudly. “That’s my girl.”

            Y/N smiled up at him. He can be a hard ass, but seeing him smile proudly at her and being the softy he was with her, made it all worth it. “Thanks, Daddy.”      

           “What are you going to study?” Kitty asked and suddenly all eyes were on Y/N . Kitty was hoping she’d follow in her footsteps and become a nurse, but Y/N wasn’t too sure if she even wanted that.

           “Um,” she stumbled, gulping. “I’m not sure. I was thinking either engineering or automotive.”

           “Oh, honey, you don’t want to do that,” Kitty said, handing her another sandwich.

           “Why not?” Red asked before Y/N could. “She’s knowledgeable about that kind of stuff. Hell, I’ve taught her all about cars and the mechanics. Unlike dumbass over here.”

           “Hey!” Eric called out. “We both know that I am not strong enough to hold up a tire.”

           “Yeah,” Red said, dragging it out and glared at him. “I know.”

           “Mom, why shouldn’t I study those?” Y/N asked.

           “Well, you don’t want to work in a man’s place,” she responded. “It’s dirty and hot, and it’s super hard to do. Besides, you’ll just distract the boys from doing their jobs.”

           While Hyde’s mind went to dirty places after hearing the words dirty, hot, and hard, he noticed Y/N getting visible angry.  

           “Really?” she hissed. “You think I can’t handle it because I’m a woman? Or smart enough? If I can do the job, why does it matter? I am not and will not be responsible for the other guys not getting their job done because they’re too stupid to do their job.”

           “C’mon, Y/N , you deserve better,” she said. “You don’t have to work there. Why don’t you work at the hair salon? Or better yet, sell Tupperware?”

           “No, mom!” Y/N said. “I want to do something meaningful with my life. I don’t want to fit into societal norms. I deserve a well paying job just as much men do.”

           “Kitty, let her decide what she wants,” Red spoke up. “We’re not going to be living her life. You didn’t say anything to Laurie when she went to beauty school.”

           “Yeah, well, it’s not like she has many options anyway,” she responded.

           “But I do and you’re trying to limit me?”

           “Oh, honey, don’t take it so personally,” Kitty said, trying to deflate the conversation. “You’re the smart one out of all of us and I just want you to have a better life.”

           “I’m sitting right here,” Eric whined.

           “Yeah, but you don’t what you want to do yet. Figure it out and then come talk to us,” Kitty said and turned back to Y/N . “We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

           “Kitty, you can’t limit her just because you don’t want to her get hurt. That’s not fair.”

           Kitty sighed. “Fine, do whatever you want.”

            Y/N rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m not hungry anymore. I’m going to go check the mail.” She slammed her plate in the sink and stomped out the swinging door.

           “Way to go, Kitty,” Red said and stood up tp put his plate in the sink. “You had to anger her by telling her that.”

           “What, this is my fault now?” Kitty defended.

           Red looked at her emotionless. “Yes.”

           “Well, excuse me for wanting a better future for my baby girl!” She cried. “I’m relieved that we don’t have another Laurie and all I wanted for her was to be safe! But. I’m just terrible mother who can’t control her kids. Is a peace of mind for a mother really too much to ask?!” She screamed and finished her huge scene by grabbing her emergency bottle of wine and stomped upstairs to her bedroom.

           “Aw, crap,” Red groaned. “Even when she’s wrong, she’s right.”

           “Women, man,” Hyde said and put his plate in the sink as well. “From what I learned about women, they’re always right and we’re always wrong.”

           “Well, I’m glad my Donna isn’t like that,” Eric spoke up, also bringing his plate to the sink. “She will apologize to me if she did wrong. She’s smart like that.”

           “Yeah, but she has you whipped like 99% of the time,” Hyde shot back.

           “Not true!” Eric defended.

           “Man, you so are!” Hyde said, laughing. “What happened last week? You wanted to go watch Star Wars for the billionth time and she wanted to see a chick flick. And what did you end up seeing? The chick flick.”

           “Well, if I hadn’t she wouldn’t have let—” he stopped dead short when he saw Red staring at him. “She wouldn’t have let me kissed her goodnight on the cheek. Like the innocent and responsible adults we are.”

           Red rolled his eyes. “Can it. I’m going to check on your mother and if I don’t see you doing what I asked in five minutes, I’m going to put my foot so far up your ass, I’ll be able to control you like a puppet.” With that, he pushed the swinging door open and exited out to check on Kitty.

           “Forman, you should write a book ‘Things Red Threatened To Put In My ass.’ Chapter one: His foot.”

           Eric could only roll his eyes and exit the kitchen to start on those dreadful chores.

           Hyde decided to go check on Y/N once Eric was out of sight. He took the steps two at time until he came across Y/N’s room. He knocked on the door and gently opened the door.

           “ Y/N?”

           She was sitting at her desk, looking over the college pamphlets. “Hey,” she replied miserably.

           He shut the door and sat on her bed. “You okay, man? That was intense what happened down there.”

           “Yeah” she replied curtly, but not towards him. “It’s so typical of my mother to try to control everything I do. I’m not Laurie so she feels like I’m not good enough to make own decisions.”

           “She just doesn’t want you to be like her,” Hyde defended. “You’re the only child that your parents don’t worry because you have your head screwed on straight.”

           She looked at him with a defeated look. “I know, but there’s other ways about it,” she responded and sat down next to him.

           “Your mom doesn’t want you to leave,” he continued.

           “Well, I need to,” she said without thinking about it. She noticed hurt flash across his face. “I mean, it’s not like I want to, really. I want to explore the world and see what it has to offer me, but staying here is not going to give me that.”

           “I know,” he sighs. “It just sucks hearing you talk about it.”

           “I know, I’m sorry,” she said and grabbed his hand. Right there, she wanted to invite him to come along with her, but she was afraid. Afraid that he would run away. Then what if she doesn’t get accepted? Then she’s going to have to deal with seeing him everyday and make it harder for her to move on., but little did she know he was secretly hoping for the same thing. Just like her, he was terrified to ask her. He didn’t want to show too much vulnerability. After seeing what his mom went through, he doesn’t want to get into a relationship and then move away only for them to break up. And then what? He’d be stuck there, or worse, she’d see him for who he truly is and run away. It was easier for him to keep everything hidden than to spill it.

           “Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m going to do whatever I want regardless what my mom says.”

           “Did you check the mail?” he asks, changing the subject.

           “Yeah, nothing yet.”

           He stared down at their entwined hands. “I don’t know why this is so hard for us to talk about,” she said. “It’s not like we’re in a committed relationship. “

           His heart dropped at hearing that, but why? They were both on the same page. It’s not like it meant nothing, but it meant something. It may have even started off that way, but it definitely wasn’t like that now. They wanted to make it official but the sneaking around and hiding it from everyone kind of prevented it from happening. Even if they did, it would be saying goodbye so much harder.

           He knew he was in for it when they started. He had never felt this way about anyone before. And that scared him. He was afraid to lose her which sucked because he never felt that fear with anyone, but she was different. She made him feel at home, at peace. She made him a better man. He was actually happy. Before, he had trouble running in with the law and relatively being a jerk to everyone. Hyde was a good friend, but showed it differently than the average man. When it came to women, he hardly ever got attached. Women would leave anyway once they found out the true him. Or at least, the side that he wanted them to see. She saw his heart, through the wall he built up, and tore it down. With her, he wanted her to tear it down because for once in life, he was able to trust someone that wasn’t within his normal group, but even then this was way different with him. He finally felt safe and didn’t have to be ready to run if he had to.

           She knew that if she stayed here, she would have Steven, but her future would be bleak. She knew if she left the state, she would be able to accomplish so much more. But the thought of leaving him was almost unbearable to her, which confused her. She knew what she was getting into when they started seeing each other. She knew it would be just a fling, but the more they did it, the more they connected; spiritually and physically. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. She wasn’t supposed to develop feelings for him, but she did. Even though they clearly like each other, she didn’t want to suggest anything more in fear of rejection. What if he didn’t feel the same way? It’d be easier to leave, but she doesn’t want to forget him and go without him. If more than anything, she wanted him to join her. The only way she would find out is by asking.

           “Yeah,” he scoffed. “It’d be stupid of us to do that since you might be leaving.”

           “Well, um,” she began, suddenly feeling so nervous that she started shaking. He felt it and held her hand tighter.

           “Are you okay?”

           “Yeah, ‘m fine,” she responded and looked into his shades, even though she was trying to look into his eyes. “Maybe, we…we don’t have to split up.”

           His eyebrows came together which made her more nervous for his answer. “What d’you mean?”

           She took a deep breath. “Maybe…you can come with me.”

[akvtsuki-ari]

Sweetheart (Ch.1)

Warnings: Mentions of BDSM and bunch of other kinks but nothing sexual in this chapter lol. Sub!Spencer and Femdom!Reader 

Length: 5.3k 

Authors Note: this is hands down the most self-indulgent shit ive ever wrote but do i care? the answer is no dsjk  but this that series i had planned where the reader introduces spencer to proper BDSM and all that. hoping to make this fic kinda informative also lol. also im uploading this fic on ao3 as well. also no tags for this fic bc its really specific and ill probably be writing for it for a while! sorry about that

Plot Summary: Spencer Reid just wanted to be.., well, you know. He doesn’t expect to find much when he signs up for a BDSM dating website but somehow he manages you and he couldn’t be more delighted

Spencer Reid was certainly a lot of things. He was a lover of the arts, someone who had a particular affinity for 15th-century literature, a magician at best, a theater nerd at worst, and a teacher when life called for it. He loves the world even when it's really dark and he loves sleeping in even more. He loves his friends and they love him too - even when they pretend that his random facts annoy them. Spencer Reid was a friend, an FBI agent, a genius with an IQ of 187, and a son to a mother he loves wholly. He was a lot of things and for the most part - he knew a lot about what he really loved to do. He supposed that it's been like that his whole life.

It's not everyday that he discovers something new about himself. About everything else? Always. He loves to learn, but about himself? There's never all that much on the frontier.

It's hard to say, because of that, when Spencer discovered he was a sub. It's difficult to pinpoint a specific time and place, or even how the pieces got put together. He just remembers how it felt when it hit him, like a freight train going 100 miles an hour into a concrete wall. Or a plane crashing onto an island. Or like a fly hitting the glass panes of a delivery truck. He remembers the feeling when he was deftly reminded of this fact. Spencer Reid was a sub - through and through and he wasn't really sure what to make of it.

Surprisingly to most of his direct peers, Spencer wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex with 2 people who he'd been kinda friends with at some point, but it always got a little weird after that. The second time though, the girl ended up choking him a little bit when she got off and Spencer thought he had died. Not in a bad way, more in a "I'm so turned on by this I feel like I've genuinely gone to heaven," sort of way. He didn't think it was possible for a sexual encounter to make him feel like that but it did. It didn't stop after that either, which was the most agitating part. 

Spencer doesn't consider himself a sexual person. Sex is about intimacy and companionship, and hopefully love when he finds that someday. Sex isn't necessarily about pleasure but that wasn't an easy lesson to learn.

Spencer just wanted to understand - so like any great genius he participated in thought experiments. It's normally a female superhero/supervillain that crosses his mind (he has an affinity for Poison Ivy), and he just kinda imagines what it would be like if they did what she did. The choking turned him on, but it wasn't enough. Through that, he figures out that he had more than a choking kink and that he was more than a little interested in a partner having complete access to him. He thought about it for weeks and the getting off was working for him but he couldn't get the fantasy out of his head. He wanted more - he wanted someone to fulfill his wishes.

It was too much for him to ignore. Those months of being able to hold off through masturbating are over and he's just sorta itching. Aching to act on those impulses with another person who can give him what he needs, and he doesn't want it to be transactional. Maybe it's too ideal to want a partner out of such an endeavor but was it so wrong? To want real affection and romance from someone who could also overpower him wasn't a crime and he'd be damned if he pretended to want any less. Spencer was just searching, even if it was rather desperately. 

So, when Spencer finds himself on a BDSM dating site and he feels like his life is in shambles, he can only blame himself. It's not something he'd normally do but he's getting a little more than relentless about it but he also just wants to see what's out there. He's so out of it was it happens, it felt like he was being possessed as he made a fake email and wrote out his account information. Definitely blaming it on possession, he thinks. 

It's too late to go back, as he scrolls through tons of profiles of rather intense looking people. He's not surprised, this is where people go to express themselves. They're entitled to that, it just sucks since he's just not ready for such levels of intensity. He wonders if he's in too deep yet, but he figures he'd hit that mark a long time ago and keeps scrolling through profiles. There wasn't much to go off of, many people not choosing to use photos for the sake of anonymity, which was good for Spencer. He clicks onto his own profile, reading his own bio carefully.

USERNAME: DOC187 

SUB/ SWITCH / DOM 

M / F / O

FETISHES: N/A

BIO: Interest in a dominant female companion. Completely inexperienced.

Spencer feels ridiculous, but he doubts anyone would even message him. He doesn't have much on his profile and he keeps things short for that purpose. He wanted to stay as low to the ground as possible - more curious to explore what was going in the world than to find anything legitimate. He scrolls through hundreds of profiles, mostly of people who were BDSM vets looking for new connections or fun. Some people catch his eye but they don't match his interests so he doesn't bother.

Except, one profile. The bio was beyond interesting to Spencer.

USERNAME: MISS—LILAC

SUB / SWITCH / DOM 

M / F / O 

FETISHES: Sadomasochist, Degradation, Humiliation, Pegging, Overstimulation, Edging, Crossdressing, Exhibitionism, Mutual Masturbation, Dacryphilia, Shibari/Gags/Bondage, Wax Play, Impact Play, Breath Play, General Sensation Play, Discipline, Collaring, Begging. Willing to try most things. 

BIO: Interested in submissive males of any experience level. Helps if you're interesting and like to read and watch indie films. Looking for genuine connection and plenty of good banter. Curly hair is nice too. lol.

Before Spencer can think about it for too long his mouse clicks over that stupid little message button next to your profile. Spencer shakes his head at his own existence as he types you a message. Says you're online right now, but Spencer's sure he won't get a response for a while.

DOC187: Seems I fit who you're interested in. I even have the curly hair.

Spencer chews on his nails anxiously before he sighs at himself. He has no clue what's gotten into him belle before he can think he sees your 3-dotted bubble pop up. He feels his body wracked with nerves.

MISS—LILAC: I'm guessing you like to read and watch indie films too?

Spencer smiles. You seem interesting and the fact that the two of you were just talking normal was making Spencer happy.

DOC187: Indeed. I'm a sucker for 15-century literature and anything in Russian and foreign language. You?

MISS—LILAC: 15th century huh? I'll assume Chaucer. And Russian? You're interesting, doc. I'm more modern and English, hope you're not deterred.

Spencer smiles, surprised that you recognize an author as niche as Chaucer. He shakes his head at your commentary. He almost forgets that both of you are on a BDSM dating site and the irony doesn't escape him.

DOC187: Deterred? Never. I think you're rather interesting too, Miss Lilac.

MISS—LILAC: Ever the gentleman doc. I'm hoping you won't run away if I ask you more personal questions.

Spencer swallows. He types back quickly.

DOC187: What kinds of questions?

MISS—LILAC: If it's okay, you're real name and what you do. My names Y/N, and I'm a florist. I live in DC and I love romance novels.

Spencer smiles. He appreciates you laying down the path for him, knowing the stakes.

DOC187: My names Spencer and I work for the FBI. I also live in DC, and I love magic.

MISS—LILAC: Magic? I'd love for you to show me sometime.

Spencer swallows. Part of him feels like it's a stupid idea to ask you out so early but if you asked, he'd likely say yes. He decides to wait it out.

DOC187: I'd be more than happy to show you.

MISS—LILAC: I suppose you could send me a video but that's not the same as seeing the magic in real life, now is it?

Spencer is smiling like an idiot at this point. He shakes his head a little, jittery.

DOC187: Infinitely better live, I would say.

MISS—LILAC: Seems like I've found an excuse to ask you on a date then. Saturday's work for me but I'm sure it depends on you, FBI man. Before that, I'm gonna drop my number and I'll be expecting your call. (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

Spencer giggles. It's a little out of range for things he's used to doing, giggling aloud for someone else is certainly new. Spencer picks up his phone and dials away, anxious to call you but excited nonetheless. He heard you pick up the phone and his heart catches in his throat.

"Hello?," Your voice is smooth, and a little bit lower than he was expecting. It sounds pretty.

"Hello, Y/N," Spencer says back. He heard you laugh on the other side and can't help the way his heart flutters.

"Lovely to talk to you doc,"

"Still Doc? Not Spencer?" Spencer questions. You smile on the other side of the line.

"Doc seems to fit you. But, for the sake of formality, hello Spencer,"

"I like Doc too, but it feels like I should have a nickname for you as well. Only seems fair," Spencer says laughing quietly.

"If it's your prerogative you can call me Miss Lilac, or just Miss but..." you trail off for a minute. Spencer squints.

"Miss is a title, you know? Doesn't seem fair for you to call me that when I haven't earned it from you yet. I'm sure we'll get there but for now you can just call me Y/N," you say softly. Spencer blushes bright red, his voice betraying him as he speaks.

"O-Oh, well um - where does the name Lilac come from? Normally people go with their names when it comes to stuff like that," Spencer says shyly. He heard you laugh on the other side of the phone and blushes again, grateful you can't see him.

"I love the language of flowers and flowers themselves. It's a way to speak that not many people know - but I like the meaning and look of lilacs. White lilacs represent purity, so that was a bit of irony, but light purple lilacs mean first love," you say carefully.

"First love?," Spencer asks. You bite your lip for a moment.

"I joke that BDSM is my first love since it's such a big part of my life. Not as big as some but not small for certain. It gave me much needed confidence so I joke that it was my first," You say lightly. You hear Spencer giggle on the other side and you smile.

"What about your username? Any significance to DOC187 that I should know of?," you readjust your seat on your couch as you talk. Spencer grows a bit embarrassed.

"I normally introduce myself as Doctor Spencer Reid for work, not a medical doctor but I have three PhD's," Spencer admits. You raise your brows but hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Very, very impressive doc. What about the 187? It could be a plain ol' number but my guess would be otherwise,"

"That's my IQ, actually. I don't think intelligence can be boiled down and quantified like that but I couldn't think of anything else," Spencer explains.

"So you're a certified genius with 3 PhD's? To say I'm impressed is an understatement. Anything else impressive you'd like to tell me before I totally pick your brains," you say a little shocked.

"You wanna pick my brains?," Spencer asks. You wanna laugh at the irony of such a silly question from such an intelligent man but you refrain.

"Who wouldn't?," you say incredulously. Spencer smiles shyly.

"The only other thing is that I can read 20,000 words per minute," Spencer says trying to deflect. Your jaw dropped before but it manages to unhinge a little further.

"There's a lot to get to know about you Doctor Reid,"

"I'm sure it's the same for you," Spencer replies.

"Guess we'll have to find out won't we?," you say smiling.

Damn, Spencer got lucky. Hopefully he'd get to find out soon

_____

"Reid, are you listening?," Derek's voice snaps Spencer out of his entranced state. His smiling expression snaps up to look at Derek who looks a little exasperated.

"Sorry, what was that?," Spencer asks back. Derek puts down the case file they were working on. They had just finished a case and needed to complete some paperwork before submitting it for review and to be used in court. The job was given to him and Morgan and Spencer was evidently distracted.

"Alright, kid - what is up with you? All case you've been checking your phone non-stop and spacing out, all smiles and giggles. C'mon now kid, seriously. You got a little lady at home waiting for you or is there something else I don't know about?," Derek interrogates. Spencer doesn't really know what to make of it, though it's not really in his interest to hide you, it hasn't really come up with anyone on the team yet so it was proving difficult to decide what to do. The smile on his face manages to appear again as he starts to think about you, the tips of his ears red.

"Reid," Morgan says again, with a small look of irritation.

"Her names Y/N," Spencer blurts out faster than he can't think. Derek gives him a huge grin, holding his hand out to dap Spencer up. Spencer just looks at it confused for a second before getting the memo.

"'My man," Derek says chuckling. Before Spencer can continue Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia walk in. Hotch is the only one missing, and Spencer's a little grateful.

"What are we celebrating in here you guys?," Prentiss asks first. Spencer goes to say something to move away from his sudden confession but Derek is quick to cut him off.

"Our boy genius over here got him a little lady," Derek announces. The whole team erupts in questions and Spencer wants to bury himself.

"Congratulations, Spencer!! How long have you two been dating?," Prentiss asks.

"You guys are so dramatic. It's only been two months but no first date because well..." Spencer trails off. JJ just nods her head.

"Duty calls, I'm guessing" JJ finishes. Spencer nods deflated hearing Emily draw a breath between her teeth.

"That's tough, Spence,"

Just as Spencer goes to give a response back he gets a text from you that makes his day a little better. It's a selfie of you at work, a picture your employee must've taken of you in a room full of new flower deliveries. You're giving Spencer a toothy grin as you hold a bunch of gardenias in your hand.

Y/N 🌸: *image attachment* 

Gardenias// You're lovely + Secret Love <33

Spencer cannot control the way his whole face bunches up in a smile, as if there's no one else in the room with him. Everyone just looks at him surprised, Garcia giving him a side-eye.

"How can you guys trust this stranger? We don't even know who she is! I haven't even run any background checks on her," Garcia complains. Prentiss nudges her side.

"I don't know if it matters - look at how hard he's smiling over there," Prentiss says. Garcia reluctantly looks and can't help but sigh.

"Okay well he seems really happy but still! We don't even know her," she pouts.

"I'm sure we'll meet her soon," JJ snickers at Spencer's lovestruck expression. Derek leans over Spencer's shoulder and raises his brows.

"Is that her, kid?," Derek asks. Spencer nods, simply staring at the picture you sent. Derek whistles when he sees you - you're genuinely stunning and he's surprised to say the least.

"Hot mama, pretty boy - how'd you manage that?," Derek asks, dumbfounded. Emily rolls her eyes.

"C'mon Derek, I'm sure - oh wow," Emily leans over Spencer's shoulder to see you and is met with the same reaction. JJ and Garcia are quick to follow thereafter, both looking equally as surprised.

"She's..." JJ trails off. The rest of the team just nods as Spencer grins ear to ear.

Spencer 🐻: Beautiful, as always.

Spencer ignores the rest of the team as they look at each other in disbelief.

Y/N🌸: Me or the flowers, Doc?

Spencer🐻: Both, but mostly you.

"Wow, Spencer you're really -" Prentiss starts

"You're whipped, kid. I mean seriously whipped," Derek finishes, nodding in agreement. JJ can't help but smile, giving Spencer a small pat on the back.

"She seems lovely, Spencer. How'd you two meet?," JJ says. Garcia stands around looking rather suspicious. A blush creeps onto Spencer's neck as he's reminded of how you two met.

"Online," Spencer says shortly. No one decides to question it, and Spencer thanks every god he can think of.

"Have you two FaceTimed yet? How can we know she's not, I don't know - catfishing you? Or scamming you in some other cyber criminal way?," Garcia sounds distressed. Spencer gives a small smile.

"We fall asleep over FaceTime every night," Spencer admits. Penelope's expression falls, and Prentiss gives a smile.

"That is disgustingly cute," JJ says laughing.

"Okay, well - I'm still running a background check on her," Garcia says stubbornly "But, I'm happy for you,"

"Thanks Garcia," Spencer mumbles out as he texts you again.

Y/N🌸: I wanna see you, love

Spencer blushes red as he reads your message. The word love makes his whole face hot.

Spencer🐻: I can't take a selfie for my life

Y/N🌸: You're with your team aren't you? Get them to take a picture of you.

Spencer wants to fold away, not ever really being the picture type, but how could he ever deny you.

Spencer🐻: How could I ever say no to you?

"Hey guys, can one of you take a picture of me for Y/N?" Spencer asks embarrassingly red. The whole team sends him a look of surprise.

"I'll take it Spence, try not to look as uncomfortable as you do right now," JJ says. The whole team refrains from laughing as Spencer gives an awkward smile. He thanks JJ who hands him back his phone before texting you again.

Spencer🐻: *image attachment* You owe me one

Y/N🌸: you're stunning as always. hadn't seen you in so long I almost forgot what you looked like.

Spencer🐻: stunnings an interesting choice of words.

Y/N🌸: I said what I said, doc. 

Spencer can't help but do a little giggle, that causes the whole team to give him a look. Morgan just shakes his head, shrugging. Emily, JJ, and Garcia just look at each other before the room draws into a subtle but comfortable silence as Spencer just smiles, totally unaware of how whipped he happened to look. He didn’t seem to mind either way. 

___

"How was work?," Spencer asks over the phone, kicking his shoes off as he looks into his fridge for something to eat. He hears you sigh on the other side of the line.

"Busy today - wedding season is coming up so tons of calls for centerpiece designs and costs. It's going well though, business couldn't be better," you say, clearly tired yet content. Spencer gives a small smile and feels relieved that things are going okay for you.

"That's really good. I'm glad you're feeling alright," Spencer replies. You ease into the couch as you talk to Spencer, relaxing by the second. 

"What about you, FBI man? You have an okay day?," Your voice is full of a gentle concern that Spencer appreciates.

"Yeah, just paperwork and JJ said that we shouldn't have any upcoming cases this week to be worried about so I have the weekend off," Spencer says without thought.

"Have any special plans for the weekend?," you say cheekily. Spencer, still not having caught on, shakes his head for a second.

"No, why?,"

"Hm... well - would you like to go on a date with me then Doctor Reid?," You ask, giggling. Spencer's eyes widen in realization as he facepalms for a moment.

"Wow, I didn't even think... yes - yes I would love to go on a date with you Y/N," Spencer says laughing at his own misfortune. You shake your head instinctively, but the growing smile and even further growing adoration makes it hard to sit still.

"Hey, Spencer," you say, butterflies filling your stomach.

"Yeah?"

"I really like you,"

____

Saturday comes quicker than Spencer can really understand. You told him not to worry about what the days plans would be but he can't help it. Anxiously awaiting you in front of the cafe that the two of you were supposed to meet at, in a part of town Spencer hasn't really seen before. You said that you'd lead the way and the irony isn't lost on him.

"Spencer?," Your voice is small, as you call out to what you think is Spencer Reid. Of course, you'd seen him before but to see him in person like this was still so unfamiliar. His head shoots up, eyes searching for you. He's delighted to have found you, certainly that was true as he walks towards you. Your arms envelop him in a friendly hug and he can't help but find himself sinking into. You smelled sweet, like fruit and flowers (which makes sense, the more he thinks about it)

"Lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,"

"Same goes for you, doc. Would you like to be informed of our plans for the day, or do you prefer the element of surprise?,"  You ask smiling. Spencer laughs at your question.

"Details would be appreciated, but I get the feeling you're not gonna give me those."

"You're right! It's a trick question, since it's a surprise. But, promise it'll be good,"

"I'll take your word for it then," Spencer says with a small smile. You hold your hand out for Spencer which he accepts, locking his hands with yours. The affection makes him feel full of warmth, as you lead him away for the day you had planned for the both of you.

___

Spencer underestimated how well you knew him. He really, really did. It's hard to explain since Spencers been on a date before but this was so profoundly different. He's a little touched, but beyond that he's just.. surprised? Every date he'd been on before this, he'd have to play the gentleman but it never seemed like the other person was interested in just him. It was always casual small-talk over dinner, or a mid-day coffee date or something else that just felt mundane but this was beyond Spencer's imagination.

The first place you took him was a bookstore - which was in Spencers mind already a winner for best date he'd ever been on. You walked inside with him and told him he had to pick up a book for you and you had to pick up a book for him and to say his heart absolutely fluttered would be an understatement. He picked up up a copy of "The Screwtape Tales," by C.S. Lewis for you, and you gave him a copy of Shel Silverstein's "Where The Sidewalk Ends." For you, you got a glimpse to see what Spencer's sense of humor was and you gave Spencer a piece of your childhood. Both equal but opposite forms of intimacy. The only thing was Spencer had to wait to read his book because it's relatively shorter than yours and he reads 20,000 words per minute.

The next place you took Spencer was an indoor butterfly garden. Does he have to explain why that's a good date? He heard you talk about all the scientific names for the different flowers and why they attract butterflies and he wasn't sure he could crush any harder on you if he tried. A particular moment sticks out to him on which a butterfly landed on your shoulders and just stayed there like it didn't want to leave. Spencer's eyes were fixated on it the whole time - and he had never wanted to be a butterfly in his life before but he figures there's a first time for everything.

The last place, where the both of you were at now was just a small coffee shop, locally owned and supported by the community here. You told Spencer that when you started up your shop, you'd come in here to work on big orders before you'd expanded enough to have employees. Spencer admires your work ethic, much more than he could ever anticipate as he sits down at a small booth, totally covering the both of you as you return to the table with a little plate of banana bread and two iced coffees. Spencer pouts as he looks up at you, watching you flash him a grin.

"I could've helped you carry this over," Spencer complains gently. You roll your eyes.

"Maybe next time doc," you say softly. You hold back your commentary often on the date, and Spencer pretends not to notice for your sake but he'd be lying if he said he didn't wanna know. You always had something sly to say but you'd kept it from him so many times now he figures it's better if he didn't ask.

Spencer looks at you as you push a plate of banana bread towards him. He looks at you with curious eyes before reading your clearly excited face and laughs. He picks up a piece and examines it, before taking a bite. If it tasted as good as it smelled then he would be more than obliged.

The involuntary moan that escapes Spencer's throat makes you choke with laughter. Shit, you weren't kidding when you said this was the best banana bread in the city. Spencer just looks up at you like he's about to cry with joy as you double over in giggles.

"I know," You say softly, taking a bite yourself eyes filling with joy "I ordered some more for us to take home - you're welcome," you say with confidence. Spencer smiles because that is genuinely thoughtful, but it was more endearing to see you pretend it wasn't. He just shakes his head, a blush arising to his face as he looks at you. You're staring at him with intent. He quirks his brow at you in question.

"I had a good time today, Spencer" You say warmly. You only called him Spencer when you were saying something affectionate and a bit serious. He gives you a toothy smile.

"I haven't been on very many dates, but this was easily the best one I'd ever been on," Spencer says honestly. You grin ear to ear, hands carefully holding Spencer across the table, running your thumb over his knuckles for a few seconds. You couldn't say for sure whether it was too soon to ask him to be your boyfriend, but you'd be damned if you said it didn't cross your mind.

Spencer was mind-numbingly unaware of what good boyfriend material he was, but beyond that - what good submissive boyfriend material he was. It was driving you nuts, but you knew this was all new for him and you didn't wanna freak him out. Even when guys say they're interested in being submissive, they're still often times uncomfortable with you being fully dominant. Dominant in public and in bed, if you will. You wanted to pay for dates, and buy him flowers, and make him feel special too - at least on the occasion. That role came naturally to you, that let me make you feel owned type affection that only a dominant person can give. It scared men off - out of relationships, and you totally got why - but you liked Spencer too much as a person to risk iit.

Spencer holds your hands together, gathering your attention. You looked at him spaced out and he gives you a look of concern.

"You okay?," Spencer asks. You nod, chewing your lip in debate of whether or not you should express your concerns. Spencer just tugs on your hand and looks at you intently.

You sigh, looking at Spencer softly.

"I'm okay I just really like you," you say a little exasperated. Spencer laughs but is filled with relief.

"I'm glad to hear that. What else is on your mind?,"

"I really like you - like in an, I want you to officially by my boyfriend way and I hope it's not too soon but I'm just, worried I guess," you say nervously. Spencer can't help the way his heart beats in his chest when he hears you say boyfriend. God did he want to be your boyfriend.

"What're you worried about?,"

"I'm worried about freaking you out. I can be a lot since I'm... you know?," You say nervously. Spencer looks at you  to continue.

"I'm more than just dominant in bed, and for a lot of guys it's not their thing and that's their right but I like you so much. I really don't want that to happen if I ask you out now and you realize that it's not for you," you say in clear upset.

Spencer looks at you in disbelief. You were worried that he was gonna freak out over that? That you were too dominant for him? It feels like such a silly concern but the expression on your face tells him you're speaking from experience.

"I mean, it's all kinda new to me but, well - I do like how you treat me? It's a nice change, I can't imagine myself getting tired of it, or of you. I really like you too," Spencer tried his best to reassure you without totally embarrassing you. You smiles at Spencer but your face is still full of doubt.

"If that ever changes, I'll tell you but I'd really like to call you my girlfriend," Spencer finishes. You can't help the warmth that spreads in your stomach at the offer. You just nod, looking up at him. You stand and walk to Spencer's side of the booth, sliding in next to him, leaning your head into his shoulder for a few while seconds. You sit back up, and Spencer turns to you.

"Hey, doc," you say softly. Spencer hums in acknowledgement.

"Can I kiss you?," you ask softly. Spencer chews his lip and nods, looking down at your lip. You're wearing lipgloss and it makes them look pretty - you are so pretty to Spencer.

Kisses are their own language, Spencer figures. The way someone kisses you can tell you a lot about who they are - so, when you put your hands on the side of Spencer's face, pulling him closer to you with such care and adoration - Spencer can feel what you were referencing earlier. The word Miss rings out in his mind, the way you pay attention to him with your hands. He feels your lips press against his, slowly gliding your fingers in his hair, thumb brushing agains the side of his cheek. Your other hand rested on his inner thigh and he has to think about anything other than that not to get hard. Spencer didn't get how much he'd been thinking about touching you until you'd do with no hesitation and he lets out a small whine. You pull back and Spencer has to catch his breath.

His lashes blink up at you and you're absolutely beaming.

"You're cute baby,"

Baby? Spencer wants to cover his face when you say it. You kiss him again and he can't help but feel flush.

You were Spencer's girlfriend and then some and he couldn't be more happy.

[spooky-activity]

Just a little update on Cassandratopia 2: Electric Boogaloo (Or as it stands in my Google Docs folder rn, A Helping Hand). I’ll put it under the cut cuz it’s kinda long. 

I just wanted to say that I’m still planning on actually doing it, despite all evidence to the contrary lol 

I did Cassandratopia in a haze of graduating from college(where I was studying animation) and just having ended my first dnd campaign as a dungeon master (which went 3 years!). I was fishing around for internships, but since the pandemic had just kicked off I wasn’t having much luck. So I had a lot of creative energy that wasn’t getting channeled anywhere, and a lot of free time when I wasn’t applying to places. Which is how I did 4 pages a day several times per week. Which was insane. 

As it stands, I’m running 2 dnd campaigns(one meets weekly, the other every other week or so), and just scored a full-time internship at a video game company! The campaigns I’m running are a homebrew open world, which, for those of you who aren’t too familiar with dnd, is a metric fuckton of work to prep for each session because I have no idea what my insane friends and siblings are going to try and do every time we play. 

Anyways all this to say that my storytelling itch is kinda. Sufficiently getting scratched atm and I have a lot less free time. I’m still plucking away at the setting/refining the story of A Helping Hand, but it’s largely on the backburner. Cassandratopia was also, uh, like the first story I’ve ever told in any sort of format besides the give-and-take of dnd, so... I’m not used to having so much control over the narrative. Oddly. I’ve never thought of myself as much of a writer of stories; my main focus is character animation, so someone else is usually writing the stories I’m telling anyways, which is super cool with me. Honestly I’m surprising myself with how much I want to tell this story, which is why I’m still sure I’m doing it. Just. Slower. Than Cassandratopia got done. 

But I’ll share a bit of the lore I’ve been cooking up! Specifically about Zhan Tiri and The Drops. The story will be told in an extremely dnd type setting, because that’s the kind of narrative I’ve told before and am comfortable telling: hard magic rules, neat fights, scary monsters, a dash of eldritch horror, and huge emphasis being put on magical artifacts(kinda like in the show!). Here’s some stuff that’s basically locked-in. 

Zhan Tiri

Zhan Tiri is one of the many Demon Lords of the Abyss. She’s kind of a mashup of two of my favorite Demon Lords, Zuggtmoy, the Lady of Rot and Decay, and Pale Night, the Mother of Demons and Queen of the Night(with just a dash of Hannibal Lecter because who doesn’t like helpful, polite, manipulative-ass bitches lksjflkja;fj). Her domain sits almost exactly between the Sundrop and Moonstone, largely being the new growth that comes from death, and the endless cycle of life and death. Places where her influence is strongest includes the cracks in... Well anywhere really, from society to the planet’s shell, where metaphorical or physical rot could grow; musty, mostly ignored places where something could fester. Iconography related to her would include endless mazes, fungi, grasping skeletal hands, and rotting/blooming corpses. Her spores can animate corpses, which she likes to use as mindless minions when she doesn’t feel like sending one of her Acolytes. She shares a scrap of her power with those few mortals she likes. She appreciates ambition and the desire to Grow to be bigger than what you were to start with, as those are qualities she herself possesses. 

Incredibly intelligent and merciless to those she deems her enemies, her main thing is pulling the strings from the shadows and seeing just how far she can push people to act with as little prompting from her as possible. She does, however, have the power to kinda bulldoze her way through things if she needs to, but she doesn’t like to because where’s the fun in that? 

She first gained interest in the Material Plane when a Wizard with too much hubris from said Material Plane(Named Demanitus) contacted her trying to figure out more information about The Drops and how to control them. After indulging him for a bit, she started preparing to make a summer home on the Material Plane because it’s New and Fun here and Wow These Mortals are Really Fun to Mess With! And some of them she even genuinely liked! Demanitus then realized his mistake and locked her away in Pandemonium for what he hoped was forever, but turned out to be only around 1,000 years, due to the efforts of her followers. Her little stint in Pandemonium magnified the more... Chaotic aspects of her personality, so now she wants to cover the Material Plane in blooming mazes of fungal crops that she can break people with at her leisure. 

The Drops

The drops are two semi-sentient pieces of one original artifact, whose original purpose was to be a tool of creation for the gods. Which, through some great calamity(still deciding that one), got sundered and settled into the two basic aspects of creation: the nearly unlimited well of life-energy which organizes stardust into planets, cabbages, and kings, and the “you gotta crack a few eggs to get an omlette” destructive force which breaks down what the sundrop makes so that it can make more. 

The main goal of the drops is to reunite. I would want to as well if I was ripped in half! This manifests as a... General tug in the direction of the other drop. A desire in the host to Go That Way. It can be resisted, and even ignored for a bit, but it’s always there. Like being hungry if starving wasn’t a danger. Just a bit uncomfortable if you aren’t going That Way, but ignorable. 

Both drops generally try to be as helpful to their wielder as possible, as originally they were a tool of creation to the gods. They are innately obliging. They’re also REALLY UNSAFE FOR MORTALS TO BE MESSING WITH. The Sundrop is a little safer because the most it can do is kinda. Overcharge you into something distinctly not human but still alive, and King Fredrick was lucky he made the Sundrop into soup before giving it to Arianna. But King Edmund got his wholeass arm blasted off for touching the Moonstone. 

The Sundrop

Best I could whittle it down, the Sundrop has power over life energy, like the sun’s light. It also has power over the energy derived from geothermal activities, so deep sea creatures Are Not Immune To The Sundrop, which was a funny thought that crossed my mind that they could be, but that will likely never come up anyways salkdjf;ljsf It is, in its basest form, Growth and Progress. 

It’s a little sentient, but very much entrenches itself into whoever is holding it at the time. Like another mind looking through your eyes and seeing what you see/feeling what you feel while still retaining a bit of individuality from the host. It’s not... Parasitic because it’s in its nature to give, but it’s generally pretty firmly attached to whoever is holding it until they die( which isn’t usually for a WHILE. It ’infects’ a new host when one dies, usually a plant near their grave...) or until a solar eclipse. It wants what they want, but it’s very fussy so they have to ask it for power exactly correctly(like singing an incantation every time you want to heal someone, or doing a Ritual involving lots of very specific ingredients, Celestial Alignments, and Secret Words) or it won’t listen, like an orchid dying if the ph balance is off in the soil by a little bit. But it’s generally pretty intuitive to use, because it wants what you want and (as long as you ask right) is willing to help. 

Anyways basically under the influence of the Sundrop you get a few things: 

Basically limitless energy coursing through your body while you’re in a place with sunlight, which equates to rapid healing, mostly, because every cell in your body is being supercharged with free energy. Never getting exhausted in direct sunlight. (If Rapunzel lived in a place that was sunny 24/7 like near one of the poles she wouldn’t have to sleep like. until it started to get dark in the opposite half of the year. Then she’d have to sleep like a regular human being)

You stay at your prime, or if you are past it, revert to your prime. Someone who is holding the Sundrop, or who has regular access to the Sundrop’s magic can’t die of old age or illness. They have to be hurt beyond the Sundrop’s ability to heal or have it taken away from them. 

The ability to share this rapid healing with others (if you ask right)

The ability to freely draw on the raw, near-limitless energy of the sun to shape into things like cool-looking energy blasts (only if you ask right) 

The Moonstone

The moonstone has powers over varying levels of destruction: from destroying things by ripping them apart/ to Not Letting Things Be Destroyed(also known as protecting) by freezing them in indestructible rock. Like the moon, it can ‘reflect’ a bit of the sundrop’s power, so it can kinda provide energy, albeit a lot less than the sundrop can provide. It’s the inevitable march of The End of All Things, fertilizing the fields of time with the ashes of the old so the new can take root. 

The Moonstone is a bit more in the dark(pun intended hehe) when it comes to bonding with someone, it can only try to figure out what is going on based off the emotions of its wielder, and through anything directly touching the Black Rocks. Because of this it’s... Kinda dumb? It tries to do things to help(Like shooting red fear-rocks to try and scare away whatever must be scaring its wielder so badly) but often fails spectacularly at helping. 

Under the influence of the Moonstone you get: 

Mortals get Neat Body Armor that’s actually just you being turned into a rock! They are very fragile! They need to be protected! The best the Moonstone can do to try and preserve you is to Stop All Destruction by.. Pausing all bodily functions indefinitely. Rocks don’t need to eat, sleep, or breathe, and almost nothing can destroy you if you’re solid Black Rock. The weak reflection of the Sundrop’s energy keeps the host animated, but they’re not exactly alive anymore. Like cryostasis. Wounds (if any) acquired in this state won’t be a problem because they’re not messing anything up, because nothing is technically working in the first place, but they will be a problem when you’re not protected in this way anymore. It’s a cosmic ‘I’ll deal with that later’ button, essentially. 

Like the moon, the Moonstone can reflect the light of the sun. It uses its rock crystals to do so, which can even split the sun’s power into different shades, like a prism. Essentially, different colored rocks can mean new and exciting power sets. 

Blue Lightning! The Moonstone can reflect the Sundrop’s power, so it also has access to pure bursts of energy, even if it is weaker and colder. 

The Moonstone is very helpful, but usually has no idea what you want. ‘Asking’ the Moonstone for more control over its power in the same way you would Ask the Sundrop for more power reminds it of the perfect bond it used to share. The Moonstone’s incantation deepens the bond between wielder and Moonstone in such a way that it actually knows what you want from it, giving you near perfect control of its powers.

*This is kind of just a side note of the Drops: While the Moonstone is weaker than the Sundrop in an head-on fight, it could hold its own if it were on the defensive. Redirecting the power instead of trying to overpower and such.

** Cass made of rocks means I get to draw her skeleton :) not in every picture that would be fucking nuts and way too much work alskjdf;lkjs;fv

[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Ch. 20

First  -  Previous  -  Next

Been a busy week! I’ll let you know if I need to slow down updates! So how about we visit Virgil, see what’s up with him?

cw: a n g s t, panic attack

~

Virgil couldn't move. Roman had helped him into bed, then sat in the room for a while, trying to talk to him. When Virgil didn't respond, he eventually left, stating that he would be back later.

His world was crashing down around him.

Could he believe that just yesterday, he'd smiled? He'd laughed? Now it was all background noise, mindless buzzing that felt totally inconsequential. There was only one thing that mattered now. Patton.

Therapy had been rough, and Virgil had expected it to be. What he hadn't expected was to go over every meaningful interaction he had with Patton. The doctor had said she was “doing some tests”, so Virgil struggled to keep himself together as he talked about the one person he missed most in the world.

Then, she'd had the audacity—she'd dared to—

Virgil took a deep breath, blood boiling as he remembered that it was she who encouraged these breathing exercises. What if he didn't want to calm down? He deserved to feel, remember, Patton needed him to—

Virgil's legs started quaking, but he paid it no mind. He could not be wrong, admitting he was wrong would be abandoning Patton, he couldn't do that, he wasn't dead, he wasn't gone, he'd always been there and always would.

His breathing quickened, coming in short, shallow breaths. His entire body was shaking, and Virgil nearly puked when he realized he could smell rubbing alcohol. He hadn't had a flashback all week, he'd been doing so well!

As if summoned, there were gentle fingers on his wrist. Calm, the fingers traced. It's okay. I'm here.

“Patton,” Virgil croaked. “I—I knew it, you're here, you're here, I knew it—”

V breathe slow. Safe.

Virgil got his breathing under control after a dozen rounds of exercises. His legs were still quivering, but he knew where he was. He was in his room, in Roman's house, and he was going to be okay, and Patton—

Virgil choked.

His own hand gripped his wrist. His own hand was tracing soothing words.

“She was right,” Virgil whispered. His mind frantically grasped at straws, trying to explain what had just happened, as Virgil felt an overwhelming amount of despair.

“Virgil, you talk a lot about Patton. In every instance you told me about, however, you never hear him. You can't see him. Based on your time alone at the beginning of your imprisonment, it seems unlikely that they would suddenly decide to move you into a room with another person.”

Virgil's body had been completely out of energy, lax and unable to move, but now he was stiff as a board, locked in place. It couldn't be. It couldn't.

“We haven't been able to find out what that book was, based on your description of it.”

No. No no no no no.

“And I've seen you trace words onto yourself, in times when you need comfort. An interesting coping habit, one that might appear when a person is locked in a room with no outside stimulation.”

Virgil sobbed, full on weeping as his body couldn't move. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real.

And that was exactly the problem, wasn't it?

“Virgil, I think Patton may have been a hallucination that your brain fabricated in order to keep you comfort during the year that you were alone. I may be wrong, but everything you've told me about Patton points to it. Virgil, can you be absolutely certain that Patton was real?”

He'd said yes, he'd said that there was no other option. He'd stormed out of the office five minutes later. He'd refused to talk to Roman in the car. He'd gone straight to his room and curled up on top of his blankets.

Patton had to be real, didn't he? He couldn't have made up a person so complex, so loving, so wonderful. And, more realistically, he couldn't have created something so solid it had washed his clothes on days he felt too ill. Unless he'd imagined it. Anything was possible if it came from his head, wasn't it?

One part of him was screaming, begging him to not abandon his best friend. The other part of him was mourning the loss of Patton. Virgil wasn't sure what to do, torn this way. He had to be real. He was real—but was he? Where was the evidence?

The world was crumbling. Virgil choked on his tears, crying for Patton, crying for himself, crying for the loss he'd just suffered. Patton wasn't real, Patton had to be real, Patton couldn't be real.

Roman knocked on the door, asking cautiously if Virgil wanted to come down for dinner. Virgil pretended to not hear him, feigned sleep when Roman opened the door to look in. He buried his eyes in his pillow as he heard the door quietly shut, then Roman's footsteps retreating. He was alone, isolated, and the one person he'd truly loved had probably never even existed.

What was Virgil supposed to do?

-

“Dude, what does it say?”

A long silence. Virgil groaned. Apparently he'd gotten an email as well as a letter, but Roman had insisted on reading it to him. Screen-readers were 'too impersonal' now. It wasn't like he was going to get his information any other way.

“Virgil, I . . . I'm sorry.”

Virgil's heart dropped. Roman sounded lost for words, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. There was no way whatever the letter said was good news.

“You . . . you got in!”

In a shot of adrenaline, Virgil smacked him. Probably on the arm.

“Ow! That was my face, you heathen!”

Oops.

“Roman! Don't—why—” Virgil could barely speak. He'd gotten in? He was certain he wouldn't get in the first time, let alone twice . He got in!

“It's my job, as your adopted older brother!” Roman said, the false hurt completely gone from his tone. “I have to bully you a bit! You should've seen the look on your face, it was priceless!”

Virgil frowned, his heart still racing. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it a bit. “I'm . . . older than you?”

“Doesn't matter! I am, by proxy, older!”

Virgil snorted. “That makes no sense, dude.”

“Doesn't have to!” Roman proclaimed. Virgil could practically see him doing some dramatic arm thing. “I'm the older brother, and therefore, I don't have to make sense!”

Virgil tilted his head back in an approximation of rolling his eyes. According to Roman, it looked pretty creepy when he actually rolled his eyes, and it stung a little. Still, he would probably roll his eyes once he was around people who weren't Roman's parents.

He was really going back.

He sniffed, his nose burning. It had been so, so long. Had the campus changed? Would he be in a different dorm? Would he and Roman still share, since they were in different grades now?

He knew everything about their accessibility and whatever, about how they would accommodate disabled people. The school had actually reached out to him, informing him that he could finish his degree no problem, they had four or five visually impaired students already and could easily make it possible for him to continue his education. Virgil had been in contact with various foundations in order to work things out with his university, and he'd gotten a few scholarships—not to mention, the handful of scholarships he'd already had had gladly reinstated themselves. In fact, Virgil had pretty much already known that he'd be going back. There'd been very little room to doubt, as his therapist had told him several times.

This was real, though. Right there, in Roman's hands, was proof. He was allowed back, and would see teachers and classmates he hadn't seen in over a year. He was starting spring semester, which was still a few months away—Roman, despite his protests, had also put off starting his junior year until spring semester.

“Virge? Are . . . you okay?”

Virgil sniffed again, wiping his cheek to find a few tears there. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he said, with an attempt at a laugh. “I just . . . didn't think this would ever happen, y'know?”

Roman also laughed, albeit much more nervously. “With the way admissions was basically begging you to come back? Of course it happened!”

Neither of them acknowledged what Virgil really meant.

“So, packing?” Roman said, after several seconds of silence. “I know it's a while away, but is there anything specific you want to bring?”

With a pang, Virgil thought back to his hand-stitched hoodie. Hopefully it was bringing Patton as much comfort as it had always brought him. He'd had it for years, made it in Home Ec in high school. Until recently, he'd never been without it. It was bittersweet, in a way. Sure, it was gone, but it was with Patton. Like . . . like a piece of his heart would always be with Patton.

Virgil shook himself. That's stupid. And cheesy, he told himself. Grow up. Move on. He doesn't exist.

There was an ASL club on campus, one that Virgil planned on becoming a part of. Roman wanted to as well, making up something about having always wanted to learn sign, but Virgil knew it was just protectiveness. Virgil was pretty sure Roman had been about to rearrange his entire schedule so that they could have the same classes, despite the fact that Roman was a year ahead and in a different program of study. After a long evening of Virgil sitting in his room anxiously while Roman talked to his parents in the living room downstairs, Roman had come to the conclusion that it was best for him to continue with his intended major. Virgil was relieved—he was a grown adult, after all. He didn't really want someone trailing after him everywhere, insisting on helping him with every little thing.

Did he?

“Am I ready for this?” he wondered aloud. Roman gripped his shoulder tightly.

“I think so.” The words were soft, but no less powerful than Roman's usual loud tone. “You're so strong, Virgil. You're the strongest person I know.”

Virgil couldn't help but cringe. He knew someone much stronger. Whether that person was real or not was up for debate.

His most recent therapy sessions had involved a lot of tears, but Virgil had agreed to acknowledge that Patton might not exist. In turn, the doctor agreed to not make a formal assessment on Patton for the time being. It was still devastating, of course. It was still as if his entire world was falling apart. But Virgil was finding it easier to smile, more natural to joke with Roman.

He was healing.

Did he want to heal?

Yes, of course Virgil wanted to heal. He wanted to move on. He wanted to lead a normal life, without hurt and flashbacks and hallucinations.

But not without Patton.

There was a fork in the road approaching, Virgil was sure of it. He was going to have to choose between waiting for, hoping for Patton, and moving on. He wasn't sure what would happen when he reached that point.

But it scared him that he would have to make that decision alone.

~

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