#the thought of me brings up too many traumatic memories of our *** from childhood

[achilleslyre]

i need to not go to sleep in the literal morning today bc that’s what i’ve done the past two days and i have things to doooo AND my brother nephew and sil are here now so we’re seeing him wednesday and i CANT be sleeping thru that. like i should be sleeping now but i’m not tireddddd. someone shoot me or smth idk

[alexsgrimoire]

Plurality & Paganism: An Introspective

If any of you keep up with my main (@sinfulauthor), you may have noticed this post, along with my new pinned post. In short, I've come to the realization (after burying the thought of it for many years) that we are a Collective.

Now, how does this impact this blog and my craft?

To start off, this blog's content will remain the same. It will still primarily act as an e-grimoire with some additional posts, but the people posting what content will change. Specifically, these people:

-Alex (they/them), the host (hi!). I'll generally do most of the talking/posting. Works with The Signless/Sufferer and Dionysus. ANP that the IRL coven knows. (I'm not open with them about being a Collective just yet.)

-Vaati (he/him), who works with Demise and focuses on divination. Writes solely in cursive and gets VERY frustrated when grimoire notes are in standard print.

-Ghira (he/him), who works with Demise closer than Vaati for Obvious Reasons™️. (Though he generally doesn't do any actual spellwork, just offerings, worship, and altar setup.)

-Karkat (he/they) on occasion, solely because Signless HAS shown himself to him and is very much a Dad™️.

-Toko (she/her) has not yet "awakened." She was a former kin heavily associated with our craft. Taking bets on her being a spellcrafter/writer.

So, now that the roll call is done, onto some other stuff regarding plurality and paganism, the introspection the title mentions. (This will be below the cut as it's not as integral to the "functioning" of this blog.)

So, coming to the realization as a system was... interesting. We first became aware of dissociative disorders through Danganronpa (Yes, Toko's horrible representation. We know.) and related to Toko heavily. At the time, we were heavily involved in the Fictionkin community and had "memories" of those "timelines." However, this relatability on the DID aspect was soon hidden under the guise of "I like to write, and so does she! Also super traumatized like me lmao," and then we didn't think about it for five more years.

Come 2023, we've relapsed for the first time in four years and are going through some pretty traumatic stuff again. At an Esbat in September, an argument breaks out that causes us to dissociate and brings up those really painful feelings from childhood. Nothing felt real, and the rest of the night was foggy. (The people in the argument have since apologized. It was also an extremely stressful night due to our old High Priest being ousted for sexual misconduct not even 4 hours before we started.)

At this point, this whole debacle causes us to realize, "Hey, this isn't really a normal trauma response. There might be something else going on." We have a lot of friends who are systems, and we went to them asking, "Hey, do you like. think we're a system?" and FIVE OF THEM SNIFFED US OUT YEARS AGO AND DIDN'T BOTHER TO TELL US??? Like maybe that would have been useful information, idk (We still love our friends to bits, though)

So, fast forward to 2024. Still in the process of diagnosis but receiving trauma-focused therapy to process things. It's been a long process of figuring out how to live/function as someone with a dissociative disorder, but we're learning.

Thankfully, having a good support network has been a great help. We have an almanac (specifically The Practical Witch's 2024 Almanac by Friday Gladheart) to track our craft/spiritual work, and it's interesting to see the input of everyone in the collective. It's a lot of taking things day by day and seeing how things go, but we feel the energy around us changing.

Anyway, ramble over. If y'all read this to the end, thanks for sticking around. I've got some other posts we plan on making, so keep an eye out for those, too.

Signing off,

Alex of the Magic Collective

[moon-ness]

more bravey notes

One of the things that really got to me regarding her thoughts on her Dad were her feelings surrounding being ungrateful. “The way I behave in certain moments doesn’t reflect how grateful I am for the things he gave me and gave up for me.” I relate wholeheartedly. Sometimes the way I behave doesn’t directly reflect how overwhelmingly touched I am. It just doesn’t always show through in the way I wish it would. It’s easier for her to remember the shitty moments when she didn’t live up to showing her own gratitude than the moments of gratitude. They would push each other’s buttons but he never, never lost his cool and sometimes she would push them just to see if he would react and he never ever did. I can’t imagine having a relationship with a figure like that. But I understand sometimes you want to push someone a little just to see if they push back at you. Maybe you want to see if you deserve them taking something out on you, I don’t know. Reflections on parental relationship are always difficult for me to read. It shines a spotlight on my own gaps when I realize for myself, just how truly isolating and alone my own childhood was. Who was I to call? The thoughts are anything but pleasant and I carry very few of my own memories with me and they cannot be undone no matter what. They are sewn into your skin. She says, “We revert back to our childhood behavior when we’re around our parents.” Maybe it’s that way for parents too. No matter time has passed we fall into old routines and histories because our knowledge can never be undone. I still think of how despite my best efforts, a hug from my mother makes me whole body seize up and cringe. The warmth does not feel safe and I don’t think my body will ever forget or undo that. She said the sadness hits us the moment we are born and realize that no matter what, we are grateful for our parents bringing us into the world and all they went through. The sad is not sad at all, it’s just love. 

You make your own cape. Two years of depression and injury after injury was an arduous trek for her. Her first race back was a marathon with a goal pace but she had little time to prepare for it due to the injuries. She was starting at almost zero, having ran for only a few weeks so her climb was conservative and not pushing hard enough to actually test herself. “First steps on dry land after months of cross-training.” She felt her injury ten miles into the race and made the decision to ditch her goal pace and simply finish instead of dropping out because she couldn’t hit pace. Her engine was strong but her wheels weren’t turning right. She decided to re-frame the entire thing for herself in order to avoid disappointment when she was questioned on her epic fail in a post-race interview. “Reframing your goals and rewriting your stories are powerful tools.” Adjustments. I know how powerful that is. I am currently injured and afraid to run again and in the meantime my goals and expectations need to change. My values need to be placed elsewhere or else I’ll drown in the pit of “oh my god, I can’t do this and I failed.” She knows just how much the negatives outshine the positives and for people like us we have to work that much harder at them. Well, for anyone I guess. Alexi did not grow up in a comfortable female environment. Most of it made her uncomfortable. She held onto one pair of shoes from her mother, Gucci slip ons and savored them. “As with so many feminine things I’ve experienced while growing up, I was on the other side of the glass— always outside peering in, imitating, adopting, projecting, but never inherently a part of it. I sensed power but had none.” And when she was in Italy she saw Gucci shoes and treated herself to them for the first time in her life, in honor of her mother and finding her own femininity. Growing up she had nightmares of her mother but never told her father because if she did he’d think she was traumatized and feel bad and there was nothing he could do about that. And then she met a woman, someone who she connected with as a mother figure, Maya Rudolph. It was pure chance. She was running on a treadmill in a hotel gym and here walks by Maya, her husband and their kids and a conversation began. She watched carefully as Maya interacted with her girls. “Often, a little girl’s understanding of the world revolves around her mother.” And there was a tinge of shame surrounding the things she does not know. Shame stems from a feeling that something is our own fault. That we are somehow responsible for the gaps or understandings we should already know. They talked about it and Maya had the same experiences as Alexi. Growing up like that effects how you relate to other women. “You are self-conscious but unrestricted. You are scrappy. You feel extra responsibility all of the time. You overcompensate. You grow up resembling someone you don’t really know. You are aware of your own mortality.” This must be true. I relate a lot to Alexi but sometimes I wonder how ours differ. She looked up to Maya. “I think of her as the sun and I’m just a small asteroid fighting to find my place in the solar system. I’ll bask in her warmth whenever I’m lucky enough to pass close to her orbit, but for the rest of the time, it’s enough to know she’s out there.” WOW I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I FEEL THIS IN MY SOUL. So much of this book spoke to me and I still have so many thoughts on the beginning of her book. 

[sappygentlemen]

PART SIX. the finale

Basement Dweller

hey guys :') sorry for the long pause between the series. I needed this to be PERFECT, so I kept rewriting it BUT IM BACK!! THE MYTH THE MAN THE LEGEND.

TW: DARK, GORE DESCRIPTIONS, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS/ATTACHMENTS/BEHAVIORS, DEATH. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION ☝️‼️

everything was dark... the ground beneath me felt damp... the air was thick and humid.

where am I.

the air smelt strangely familiar. the ground felt like something so familiar, as though I forgot it with the pass of time. almost like a childhood memory that you don't realize you've lost until something brings you back.

deep down. I knew what this was. but I didn't have the strength to admit it. this was the place I'd broken many bones, pleaded for my life, and countless other traumatic events that I'd tried my best to never think about again. the one place I'd never wanted to return.

The basement.

this damned basement made my nostrils burn, but that was always part of the punishment. the fumes from the chloroform on the other side of the room were supposed to slowly lull you into sickly submission. like a dog being drugged with a sedative, but then again, that's all I was to Declan. A dog.

I felt a burn in my hands, similar to the feeling when you fall on concrete. just as I took in a sharp breath from the pain, I heard a gasp from a couple feet away.

"SAM! you're awake!! thank God... I was so worried.. I was worried he'd hurt you too bad... I'm sorry I couldn't do much for the wounds. they might still burn from the alcohol I used to clean them. it was the only thing I could find"

"can you sit up Sam? I hate to rush you but... I feel our situation might be a bit urgent. as much as I want you to rest, you're the only one who knows this basement, and how to escape"

"..Nate? Quincy? .....how did he?... how did he manage to get all three of us?.. I mean, we had alarms all over the house.. how did he even get in?"

silence overtook the room for a moment as I grunted and tried my best to slowly sit up, the effects of a sleeping drug obviously wearing me down as I tried to regain my senses. something was different about the basement. none of us were chained up? we were moving freely. the doses he gave us obviously weren't strong enough to keep us under for long enough to kill us. what the hell is Declan planning to do.

As I sat up, slowly rising to my feet, I saw Quincy looking at me, the guilt was obvious on his face. he was hiding something.

"I'm so sorry guys... I thought... I mean... he told me he was getting help... he said he just wanted to apologize, he promised!!"

a low voice spoke from behind all of us. "I do just want to talk.. I want you back Sam... we deserve to be together.. and I'll do anything to get you back. Anything."

it was Declan, and he had a small hatchet in his hand. MY hatchet.

I tried my best to stand in front of Nate but by the time I had, it was too late, and I was too weak. He knocked Nate down with the butt of the hatchet. knocking me on my ass in the process. Quincy stood to the side, he looked horrified. As if he was frozen in fear. I tried my best to sit up, but I knew I couldn't. my body was still weak, still recovering from the drugs injected into us.

"it doesn't have to end like this Sam. I'll let you all go.. all you have to do is come back .home... we can all go back to our normal lives.... isn't that what you want? to be back with ME. your SOULMATE"

"you were never my soulmate. you never cared for me Declan. now stop this!"

"I LOVED you. I CARED for you."

".....what was my favorite color... if you can answer.. I'll come home. back to you. but if you get it wrong. You have to let us go. deal?"

"deal. Its red. You have it everywhere, its all over your outfits. Its red."

Declans boot was on top of Nates chest. Stepping down lightly, even so, Nate coughed up an answer as he stare at Declan from beneath his boot.

"His favorite color is yellow. Mustard yellow... *cough* mustard like the bottle, not the liquid."

"what?.... no, no that cant be right?...I know Sam more then ANYONE! you're lying. I know Sam. I love Sam."

"no you don't Declan. you don't know me. you've never known me."

Declan began to open his mouth, but before he could get any words out, a loud bang rung through the room, bouncing off every wall. he gasped and gripped his chest. four more loud bangs were heard, long with shouts and the sounds of several sets of boots stomping through the house. Austin had almost literally shot him in the back. Declan was shot multiple times before his body slumped to the floor. Austin was panting, struck in fear by his own actions. standing behind Declan, with a police force gun in his hands. and several swat members, running into the room, flashlights blaring into our eyes as they took us out of the house one by one.

Austin had killed Declan...

we were all sitting outside the police station. the situation was almost unbelievable. it felt like some silly child's nightmare, and to me, it was my nightmare, but I couldn't focus on myself for long, I knew Quincy needed me. I draped a small blanket over where he sat, unmoving, staring at the floor. as if not even God could draw so much as a twitch from him, and the worst part was, I could understand exactly how he felt. so much had happened tonight.

Austin told all of us that he was an undercover detective on Declans case. He had sneaking suspicion that all the missing chemicals in the hospital were from Declan, the only guard with access but without solid proof he couldn't prove anything. so he went undercover. gathering information until he could put him behind bars.

after a short while, Nate walked out of the station, waving goodbye to Austin, his keys jingling in his pocket as he walked towards us... I hoped he had more encouraging words for Quincy because currently, I wasn't much better off, and was in no position to give an inspirational speech. Nate wasn't good at speeches, but his next words at least made Quincy nod his head, which was a big accomplishment at the moment.

"Mcdonalds?"

[one-systems-journey]

25.8.22

We only had one therapy session this week, my psych was sick & then the office flooded 😬 & it seemed to have been going for some time before anyone was in to notice.

We had to do Telehealth Thursday because of said flooding situation, but it seems like hopefully we’ll be back next week. The damage luckily wasn’t too extensive.

Being Telehealth we didn’t talk about anything too serious. I talked to her about cancelling with the more experienced DID therapist I had been planning on seeing. Generally parts seemed to be becoming more & more opposed to the idea, even though at least one person wanted it. I had thought that maybe because our defensive parts seemed to be so opposed to some of the work with our currently psych (due to lack of trust & thing going badly in the past), maybe they would be less activated with someone else. But that didn’t seem to be the case. The more anxious we got about these new appointments, the more the defensive parts were coming up being like ‘no, we’re not engaging with this person’. So, I guess that’s good for us to know. That they’re going to try to protect us no matter who we’re working with & it’s probably best to stay with our current psych who we trust, have a lot of familiarity with & we honestly have a lot more support from than we would from someone else. There is a small amount of I guess sadness, regret, something. We did really want to see if things could progress better with someone new. But I guess it wasn’t worth giving up what we have right now, for that chance. We also didn’t like that this new psych didn’t want us to continue to see our current psych for any reason. We had wanted to continue with her just for general support, so the work wouldn’t overlap. But she didn’t want us doing that. So, that’s that.

We also talked about someone we had watched on fb & how their struggles from her upbringing are relatable in so many ways. But it was frustrating because it bought up so many emotions, but we don’t have particular memories to go with them. I don’t know if it’s because of DID or because the neglect side of things from my experience was more subtle. There aren’t necessarily huge/significant events. It’s a day after day if not having needs met. Things that in ways, didn’t seem ‘significant’ at the time. I didn’t notice were ‘abnormal’. But it all added up to compound the traumatic experiences of my life. We talked about how often times psychs have focused on the early childhood abuse as the most important experience of my life. But I always said like ‘no, my experiences as a teenager of both abuse & neglect & other trauma affects me a lot more’. No one ever cared when I said that. I know know that I’m much better at dissociating from the early childhood trauma, so it seems ‘less bad’ but also I still live a lot of the teenage trauma. It’s my current trauma. So of course it’s hard to dissociate from & feels the most pressing. We talked about how we can process the feelings of this time, we don’t necessarily need an exact event & possibly as we process, parts will bring up memories. Hopefully we’ll do some work on that next week.

I also remember talking to her like ‘I’m struggling so much to leave the house & do what I need to do’. ‘I don’t understand because I don’t feel so awful as I did the last several weeks, so why can’t I do anything’. She made me realise that even though I’m not still in ‘crisis’, that doesn’t mean that everything is okay. It was validating. I did manage to get my dog Wes to the vet on Thursday for his arthritis injection, went to the chemist, & took us to the nurse at the doctors clinic today. I honestly feel like they were two massive achievements because of how hard they were.

I also stopped & got food both days just to make life a little bit easier. Food is an ongoing issue. Every time we’re struggling or young parts are close to the front, we really struggle with being able to find food that fits within the little ones very narrow area of food fussiness & also a lot of food has been making us feel nauseous &/or upsetting our stomach lately. So, just another difficult area to deal with. Here’s your reminder that it’s okay to do the thing that makes life a little bit easier. Buy that pre cut veggies, buy the take away, throw out the recycling you can’t bring yourself to clean, use paper products on plates to cut down on cleaning. Whilst I still think taking care of the planet is all our responsibilities, someday we can’t do everything. The best thing we can do is keep putting pressure on the big companies who ignore their massive role in destroying the world & give ourselves a little grace.

That’s my week. Progress in therapy & bit of an inclusion of where things are with my mental health.

[nev3rfound]

resonate : b.b

in a world after the blip, like many you find yourself in therapy. yet, you run into someone you never anticipated meeting. (4k - it’s long, i couldn’t stop but i hope you like it!!)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

requested: yes! by the lovely @interestedcas​ - thank you sm for the request angel :) (i’ve changed one or two details around, but i hope that’s okay!) warnings: mentions of depression, murder, being in therapy, angst but fluffy ending 

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

It doesn’t matter how many times you visit, you still despise going to her office. The routine never changes; you walk into the lobby and sign in, scribbling an attempted signature before entering the elevator.

Four floors up, you exit and simply wait on the sunken grey sofa. The magazines are out of date- from before everything happened. No one ever talks to one another, too lost in their own thoughts whilst your head remains too empty.

And then something changes. You can hear her door opening and a heavy sigh from someone exiting. “James,” She calls after the person emerging from her office who keeps his head low.

You can’t help but watch the spectacle before you, clad in leather and dark jeans, his face shielded from your view as he passes you by.

Doctor Raynor stands in the waiting room with her hands on her hips, notepad in hand as she mutters something under her breath.

“Hey, Doc.” You wave, breaking her deep thought as she looks over to you with that set frown across her lips.

“Y/n,” Doctor Raynor walks toward you, lowering her notebook into her pocket. “sorry for the wait, come on through.”

Rising to your feet, you follow behind her as you walk through the bleak corridors lined with framed photos of brighter scenes; couples on a beach during sunset, animals on a farm and your personal favourite- fireworks in New York City.

“So,” Closing the door, Raynor takes her seat opposite you, observing you as you lean back on the large couch. “how are you doing this week, Y/n?”

“Fine, I guess.” Shrugging your shoulders is an automatic response to those words. Yet, it’s never enough to keep Raynor happy as she opens her notebook. “You really have something to write already, after one sentence?” You remark, tutting under your breath as you look around the room whilst she scribbles on her pages.

“You know the whole purpose of coming here is to talk.” She comments, now looking up at you. “Let’s try again, shall we? How are you doing this week?”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you stare blankly back at her. “Why’d your last patient storm out like that?” Avoiding her question, you can see her jaw clenching as she leans back in the armchair. “Guess someone else was having a bad day, huh?” You chuckle dryly, and to your surprise, she nods along.

“Everyone has bad days,” She remarks. “some worse than others.”

“Tell me ‘bout it.” You respond, bringing your legs up as you sit cross-legged and hug the nearest cushion into your lap. “I, I had another nightmare,” You admit, trying to ignore the sound of her pen against paper. “it wasn’t as graphic, or, violent.”

“What happened this time?” Doctor Raynor asks, averting her attention from her notebook as you bite your lower lip, unaware of how hard you’re biting down until you feel blood against your tongue. “Y/n?” Snapping her fingers, you emerge from your thoughts and wipe your lip, ignoring the crimson on your fingertips.

“I just saw them, lying there whilst the building was burning.” You try to ignore the sound of cries, distant sirens and pleas for help in the back of your mind. “But there wasn’t any blood, they were just lying there like they were fine, just, sleeping.”

“And why do you think that is?” Raynor taps her pen repetitively.

“Is there a reason? Some sort of coping mechanism or mental response?” You ask, turning it back on her as she purses her lips, contemplating her response.

“It can be perceived as you purifying them,” She suggests. “trying to see them as innocent.”

“But they weren’t.” You quickly comment. “No one was during that time.”

“What about yourself?” Raynor questions and you scoff loudly.

“Course I wasn’t innocent during that, I mean,” You motion to the room you’re currently in. “I’m here, aren’t I?” You laugh, feeling your nails digging into the cushion on your lap.

“Listen, Y/n, you have to break through this. Have you tried writing down about these nightmares after they happen?” You nod and Doctor Raynor shuffles in her seat, now resting her arms against her legs. “How about you get some fresh air? Have you tried contacting anyone you lost touch with since the blip?”

“They don’t know who I am anymore.” You mutter.

“Get a grip, Y/n. You’re not the lead in a rom-com.” Raynor sighs.

“You’re kinda mean, you know that, right?” You snap back, and she simply holds her hands up in defence. “I’ll try again this week, maybe I’ll meet a nice guy at a coffee shop.” The sarcasm rolls off your tongue as you stand up. “This was fun, Doc,” You flash a smile, ignoring the abrupt closing of her notebook.

“Y/n,” Doctor Raynor drags your name out as you reach the door.

“Can’t wait for next week!” You wave slowly whilst your back faces the door, unaware of the strong wall you collide against. “Oof.” A noise escapes your lips as you quickly turn around.

Forcing your gaze upwards, you recognise the unapologetic stoic expression from anywhere. He was listed amongst those lost in the blip, one of the fallen Avengers.

Yet, standing before you he seems softer. His eyes remain locked on you despite Doctor Raynor nearing you both.

“James, decided to try our session again?” Doctor Raynor comments, and you break your focus from the former soldier.

“I’ll see you next week, Doc.” Your tone softens as you slip past Bucky and quickly walk down the corridor, unaware of his eyes following you, wishing he at least introduced himself.

“You can try again next week, James. She'll be back.” Doctor Raynor pulls the door further open, and with his head hanging low, Bucky nods to himself before taking up your seat.

*

Screaming yourself awake, you heave a breath as you clutch your chest, trying to focus on controlling your heart rate.

Tears stream down your cheeks uncontrollably. “Y/n?” Your roommate calls out, knocking lightly on your door. “Can I come in?” She asks quietly, peering through the door to see you sat upright with one hand covering your mouth whilst the other grips the bedsheets. “Oh, babe.” She hums, walking over and sits beside you.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, allowing you time to process what just happened, the sight of their body beneath your feet, your hands coated in crimson as the flames roared through the windows, shattering in an instant. “Why is it we can never remember dreams, but we always remember our nightmares?” You think aloud into the darkness, glancing over to see it was only 1 in the morning.

“I, I don’t know.” She mutters. “Can I get you anything?”

Shaking your head, your roommate rises to her feet. “I think I’m going to get some fresh air.” You state, tearing the covers from your body as you grab your jacket, slipping it on over your pyjamas.

“Y/n, I love you but it’s 1am. It’s not exactly safe to go out.” She crosses her arms over her chest, ignoring you shrugging your shoulders in response. “At least let me come with you.”

“It’s fine, really.” You object, walking towards the front door knowing you've experienced a lot worse during the blip whilst she was absent, one of the missing. “I’ve got my phone, I’ll be back in a bit.”

Before she can say anything else, you walk out and close the door quietly behind you, craving solitude from the one place you’ll know you can get it.

Feeling the cool chill of Autumn creeping in, you tug your jacket further across your chest and bury your hands into the deep pockets. You fiddle with the remanents of tissue in the left pocket, picking it apart to suppress the memories of the nightmare that begin to plague your thoughts once more.

Your feet lead the way whilst your mind remains preoccupied, unaware of the dewy grass beneath your sneakers and the quiet conversations occurring across the park.

Sitting down, you can feel the coolness dampening your trousers, but you’re too lost to care; and seemingly too oblivious to notice the man approaching you with a deep-set frown.

“It’s not exactly wise to be out alone this late you know.” He tells you, standing a few feet away from you whilst your eyes remain locked on the trampled dandelion in front of your scuffed sneakers. “Is everything okay?”

You force yourself to nod. “Yeah, thanks.” You mutter, hearing him shuffle closer until he’s sat by your side, allowing a gap between you both as he sighs loudly. “Why’re you sitting with me? There’s an entire park for you to enjoy.” You remark, now glancing over to the stranger who notices you tense. “You’re,”

He simply nods. “Yeah.” Bucky lowers his head, knowing you’d recognise him for that reason, of course, that’s all he’s known for.

“You’re the guy from Raynor's office, right?” You finish, and Bucky lifts his head up, a genuine small smile crossing his lips as he nods.

“Yeah.” His voice is softer now, his heart rising in his chest. “I’m James.” He holds his gloved hand out, and you accept it.

“Y/n.” You shake it before hiding your hand once more into your pocket. “So, what’s wrong with you then?” You chuckle dryly. “Traumatic childhood? Oh, how about PTSD?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Something like that.” He remarks, looking up at the stars pinpricked in the sky. “So why’re you out here then?”

“I could ask you the same,” You retort, glancing over to focus on him, having only briefly noticed him the other day at the bleak office. Yet here, he seems calm, his expression is relaxed as opposed to stoic, you could even say he seems happy at a stretch. “but I won’t, ‘cause I’m not Raynor.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Bucky jokes with ease as he hears you laugh quietly. “The pyjamas really add to it I’ll admit.” He glances down, quickly noticing you rolling your eyes, but there’s only humour lining your expression, no sign of disgust.

“I, I couldn’t sleep.” You speak up, bringing your legs to your chest as you wrap your arms around them, keeping them in place. “Nightmares, you know?”

Nodding knowingly, Bucky turns his attention to the homeless man curled up on the bench, a knife catching his gaze.

“Do you wanna go for a walk? I know from experience that usually helps me clear my head.” Bucky suggests, rising to his feet as he holds his gloved hand out for you.

“And why would I do such a thing? I barely know you, James.” You remind him, looking up at his hand before lifting your eyes up to meet his.

“True,” He hums, secretly relieved that you don’t know him. “at least let me walk you home?”

Hearing the homeless man beginning to stir and muttering nonsense, you sigh before taking Bucky’s hand as he pulls you up with ease. You almost fall into his chest, but you force your hand out to rest on his shoulder to stop yourself.

“Sorry,” You mutter, focusing on how your shoes are almost touching his.

Breathing out a laugh in your hair, Bucky shrugs his shoulder. “No worries, doll.” It slips out too easily, but you don’t seem to notice as you walk alongside Bucky.

The two of you walk through the streets in comfortable silence. For once, you don’t feel obliged to talk through the short walk, that you have to somehow convince him that you’re feeling fine; because he knows how it feels.

You can mentally list over one hundred questions you could potentially ask him about his past, about the 40′s and who he once was. But you know it isn’t fair to delve into someone else’s memories, invade into something he might not fully remember. So tonight, he remains as James from Doctor Raynor's office, and you’re content with just that.

“Well, this is me.” You motion to the front door of the small apartment building, noticing your lamp is still on in your room. “Thanks again for walking me back, James.”

“Anytime.” Bucky smiles. “I guess I’ll erm,” He stumbles over his words, internally screaming at himself to just ask for your number or to take you out for coffee sometime. “I’ll see you around.” He nods, unable to form the words he wishes he could say. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” You smile before opening the front door, disappearing out of sight as Bucky turns on his heels, about to force himself to ask for your number.

“Next time, Buck.” He mutters to himself, knowing Raynor will give him shit for not trying hard enough when he next visits her.

*

“-stupid fucking elevator!” You groan loudly as the doors finally open and you stumble out, oblivious to Bucky exiting Raynor's office and standing in the waiting room, hearing you coming his way.

Looking around, Bucky shuffles the outdated magazines and takes a seat. He tugs on his trousers and his jacket, wishing he wore something different this morning if he knew you’d be coming today.

As you turn the corner, the anxieties slowly ease when Bucky smiles your way. “Morning.” Bucky waves, trying to hide how fast his heart is beating in his chest as you walk toward him apprehensively.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” You state, looking at the options before you as the waiting room remains empty beside the two of you.

Yet, before you can fully run through your options on where would be best to sit, Bucky moves along on the grey sofa, allowing you room to sit beside him.

“I just, er, finished.” He mutters, unsure where to focus.

“And you decided to hang out at the happiest place on Earth for the sake of it?” You raise a brow to him.

“I was leaving, but then I heard you.” Bucky mentally applauds himself, knowing Sam would be proud once he tells him. “Not to sound creepy or anything,” He quickly adds, but you’re laughing to yourself, shaking your head happily.

“Not creepy at all, James.” You assure him, giving him a playful nudge of his arm. “So, solve any deep routed trauma today?” You joke with ease, something Bucky is secretly thankful for.

Usually, in the waiting room, there’s a man in his fifties who shakes with nerves. He’s never met Bucky’s gaze once, refuses to.

“Gettin’ there.” Bucky tells you, now turning his body toward yours as he rests his arm over the couch. “Listen, Y/n,” He starts, only to be cut off by the sound of the door opening and Doctor Raynor presenting herself.

“James? You’re still here?” The Doctor questions, clearly surprised until her eyes pan over to see you sat beside him. “Hi Y/n, come on through.” She motions and you stand up.

“Wish me luck.” You wink to Bucky, oblivious to the near heart palpitations you cause as the door closes behind you.

Averting his attention to the dusty clock, Bucky contemplates his next move. He could leave now, and simply hope he’ll see you again next time he visits. Or, he could wait for you. You could only be an hour at the most, and it isn’t Wednesday so Yori isn’t anticipating a lunch trip either.

So, Bucky leant back on the sofa, closing his eyes to stop himself from homing in on the conversation on the other side of that door.

“Well, I’ve got to say, you seem happier today.” Raynor remarks.

“I guess I am.” You honestly answer, not forcing your self-defence shield up before your eyes for the first time in a while. “I, I’ve not had a nightmare in three days.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

You breathe out a sigh. “Relieved? But I don’t know like I’ve gotten so used to reliving it, and everything that happened and now not seeing it feels,” You pause as you grab a hold of the cushion beside you. “alien.”

“That’s perfectly normal, Y/n.” Raynor assures you. “Simple things such as distractions can often cause nightmares to diminish, or perhaps new people in your lives who cause a positive influence.” She trails off, turning her head toward the closed door; motioning to the man sat in the waiting room.

“James?” You scoff lightly, trying to brush it off. However, Doctor Raynor notices you shift as you pick up the cushion, relaxing it on your lap. “No, he’s, I barely know him.” You tell her, hearing her hum in response.

“Do you know about him, though?” Raynor questions, watching as you nod slowly.

“Of course I do,” You say sadly. “I remember the news broadcasts and when the blip happened, him being among those lost.” You explain, fiddling with the hem of the cushion as a distraction.

Outside the room, Bucky can feel his heart sink. You know who he is, and what he’s done. How could he think someone like you could trust him, get to know him after his past?

“He’s changing though,” The words leave your lips quickly, and Bucky tilts his head up toward the door once more. “I, I don’t know how to explain it, but he seems like a good guy.”

Scribbling in her notepad, Doctor Raynor nods along. “I can’t comment due to patient confidentiality, Y/n.” She shrugs, looking past you and up toward the small camera hidden in the ceiling light. “But, I will say he’s mentioned you.”

A gentle laugh leaves your lips as you raise a brow. “So much for confidentiality there, Doc.” Pausing, you think back to the other night when he found you in the park and walked you home. He didn’t say much, but then again he didn’t need to. His company alone was warm, and it was since that night your nightmares stopped.

“What’re you thinking, Y/n?” Raynor tilts her head, trying to gauge your current thought process.

Glancing up, you stare blankly back at her. “What if my nightmares come back?” You sadly ask. “What if them stopping was just a temporary fix? I, I don’t want to see it anymore, I don’t want to wake up thinking my hands are coated in their blood.” Tears build up in your eyes for the first time in days, threatening to spill over like your misconstrued thoughts.

“Have you practised any of your coping methods since I last saw you?”

You pause, looking up as tears fall from your eyes. “Yeah,” You breathe out. “I went to the park, the one down the street.” You slowly explain, your ears perking up at the familiar sound of her pen against paper. “And, and James was there.”

“So, since that night, you haven’t?” Doctor Raynor trails off at the motion of your head shaking. “Alright,” She closes her notebook over and places it on the floor beside her. “Y/n, I want you to go out there, talk to James and ask him out or something.”

“I, I can’t do that.” Tensing up, you tighten your grip on the cushion that previously remained relaxed against your lap. “That’s just dumb.” You defend yourself, ignoring your heart that’s been thinking about the man since that night.

“Dumb or not, it’s worth a try.” Raynor leans back, crossing her arms having listened to an identical conversation with Bucky just over an hour before.

“Is that it then?” You ask.

“Until you have something else to tell me,” Doctor Raynor rises to her feet as she approaches the door whilst you remain seated, apprehensive to face James whenever you’ll next see him.

“Am I just meant to find him somehow?” You quietly ask in the Doctors direction, hearing the door creep open.

Unaware of the small smile crossing her lips, she glances back at you. “I’m sure you will, Y/n.” She comments, returning to her seat whilst you head to the door, slipping out without any further discussion.

Yet, as you glance up, you freeze.

“James?” Utterly perplexed, Bucky half-heartedly waves to you. “I, why’re you still here?” You step forward, only to witness Bucky stepping backwards.

“You know who I am?” Sadness drips from his words as he struggles to meet your gaze.

“James,” You speak up, but Bucky shakes his head before he brushes past you, heading toward the elevator.

Remaining glued to the spot you’re standing in, you simply watch the elevator doors open as Bucky slips inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Doctor Raynor sighs loudly, standing in the doorway. “Go!” Watching you walk away, a smile ghosts her lips as she reflects on the pair of you, both lost souls so close to finding a home.

Without needing to be told twice, your feet suddenly move with ease. You’re running through the bleak corridors, seeing blurs of colour crossing your peripheral vision as you reach the stairwell.

“Stupid.” Bucky mutters to himself. How could he have gotten his hopes up?

Exiting the building, Bucky takes the left turn and walks down the street, burying his gloved hands in his pockets.

“James!” You yell, puffing heavily as you slam the office doors open, looking around for any sign of him.

Upon hearing you call his name, Bucky pauses and dares to look over his shoulder to see you wiping your face. “Fuck.” You mutter, burying your face in your hands, only flinching and moving when a hand rests on your shoulder.

Looking up, those sweet blue eyes home in on yours. “Wanna go to the park?” Bucky calmly suggests, relieved when you nod and walk alongside him in silence, the only sound between you both being you sniffing and the hammering of his heart against his chest.

As the pair of you reach the large metal gate, Bucky allows you to walk ahead whilst he holds it open. Usually, you might have a joke or suave comment to make, but today you mutter a thank you before he returns to your side.

“James,”

“Y/n,”

You both pause, interrupting one another as you stop in the middle of the pathway, ignoring the laughter of children around you playing happily.

“I’m sorry,” You start the conversation whilst he remains quiet by your side. “I didn’t want to say anything or bring it up as I know what it’s like to be known by your past actions.” Furrowing your brows, you try to ignore the child screaming and crying ahead of you, watching their Mother pick them up and cradle them close in her arms.

Bucky follows your line of vision, seeing the Mother sway side to side as her child’s cries begin to subside.

“I just wanted to get to know you.” Whispering the sentence you can’t help but close your eyes as it simply hangs in front of him, unsure whether to accept or decline. “And if you don’t that’s perfectly fine, I’ll just walk back that way and, and you can go that way.” Opening your eyes, you point in two differing directions.

And to your surprise, Bucky breathes out a laugh at your crossed arms. “I, I’d like to get to know you too, Y/n.” He smiles, mentally repeating everything he’s talked about with Doctor Raynor. “I’m no longer the Winter Soldier, my name is James Barnes.” He mutters to himself, aware of your eyes on him as you kick some stones beneath your feet, scuffing the white of your sneakers.

“I’m not a killer anymore. I’m not a monster, nor an agent.” You breathe out, listening to Bucky shifting beside you. “I’m just me,” Looking up, you shyly smile at him as he mirrors your reaction. “just Y/n.”

Holding his hand out, you notice his glove is gone. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.”

With brief hesitancy, you accept his hand, revelling in the warmth as it weaves through your skin, causing goosebumps to ignite. “It’s lovely to meet you too, James.”

Lowering your hand, you don’t notice that it still remains in his as you both walk through the park. There’s a lot to be uncovered from you both, but maybe, just maybe doing it together won’t be so bad.

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

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[juniorgman187]

Serendipity (Reid Fic) Part 1

A/N: If you’re wondering if this is at all based on Rosie and Marco’s storyline in “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” then you should know - it totally is.

Summary: An FBI gathering brings Reader and Spencer together after years of distance. This one night changes not only their future, but their perspective on the past.  Category: Angst, Smut, *NSFW content Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Mentions of traumatic childhood, child neglect, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, menstruation, pregnancy Word Count: 10.2k

I originally thought I would be able to fit everything into 1 part, but after further reconsideration, this will be a two part series. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Serendipity: (n). Finding something good without looking for it.

A word I would only come to truly understand many months from now on a warm Thursday morning in May at St. Mary’s Hospital. 

But whenever my thoughts drifted back towards the past, I would always remember that this was how it all began - on a chilly Saturday night in the heart of D.C.

Not more than four hours ago, Emilia and I drove down here for an F.B.I function that hired us. Under normal circumstances, we wouldn’t have agreed to be the caterers for an event so far away, but we eventually signed on after learning that there were at least 600 people attending. That meant a considerable amount of customers and an exorbitant amount of money. Saying yes was clearly a no brainer. 

Just to put it into perspective of how big this event would be, Emilia and I got lucky if we could park somewhere with 80 customers. 80. So this event would be colossal for us.

But who would have guessed that in a crowd of 600, I would run into the one and only - Spencer Reid. 

To preface, this wasn’t just any old birthday party, parade, or festival. It was a celebration and a grand one at that. Considering it was a private event at the Washington Monument, we were given special instructions to abide by the black-tie formal dress code that guests had to follow, too. I guess the caterers can’t look like slobs in the United States’ Capitol, now can they?

I definitely spent more time than I should have deciding on what outfit to wear, but my conscientiousness, or rather indecisiveness, did pay off in the end. For I would run into someone worth the trouble of impressing. 

My hair, unlike Emilia’s, was down and curled in big waves, and on one side, some of my hair was tucked behind my ear and designed to stay that way thanks to copious amounts of hairspray and an ungodly total of bobby pins. Emilia lent me a black, floor-length dress that had a plunging v-neck that didn’t fit her anymore, but luckily, fit perfectly on me. Although I would have to remember not to lean over too far tonight, otherwise, the customers might get a show they didn’t pay for. I, however, didn’t look half so good as my business partner. 

Emilia was clad in a navy blue silk dress with puffy sleeves and a high collar; the dress clung to her every curve, including her newly protruding belly bump. She looked regal and pregnant all at the same time, qualities I hadn’t seen coexist in anyone but the Queens and Duchesses in England. 

“Well, don’t you look hot?” Emilia purred, running her fingers through my curls, then letting them fall and sway back into place. 

“Are you kidding? You are quite literally a sexy mama.” I gushed to her, receiving a light chuckle in return. 

“Yeah, well, when you’re five months pregnant, tell me how sexy you feel in a tight dress.” She remarked, turning her back to me while she arranged all the supplies in the kitchenette behind me. But even as she faced away from me, she still managed to recognize the effect her words had. Maybe it was something in my silence, or our sister-telepathy, but Emilia immediately felt the room depress. In an effort to take back the remark that turned the room cold, she sweetly added while hugging me from behind, “You’re gonna be a mom one day, too. I promise.” 

I leaned into her embrace, feeling guilty for ruining the moment while also feeling burdened by the reminder of the terrible reality I had to face every day.

Ever since I could remember, I thought I was destined to be a mother, but that destiny had yet to be fulfilled.

Emilia was born only three years after me, and though that age gap isn’t big enough for me to be mistaken for her mother, I, she, and our younger brother Saul would all agree that in many ways I was their mom. I was the parent our parents never were. I was there for everything - soccer games, dance recitals, winter musicals - never getting the chance to participate in my own, but always attending their’s. 

I had to admit sometimes it was a burden, having to grow up so fast and help raise my siblings while still trying to navigate through my own struggles of adolescence, but I saw it as something I was meant to do. 

See, I wouldn’t have minded all the responsibilities of being a parent so much when it’d be my own kids that I’d be fulfilling them for - when it would be by my choice to fulfill those responsibilities and not by unfortunate birth order. 

However, as the years have gone by, my calling to be a mother has gotten quieter and quieter and quieter until eventually, I don’t think I’ll be able to hear it anymore. 

It’s not that I can’t have kids, but the fear of rushing into having one is what’s stopped me from pursuing that dream. 

As someone who grew up with divorced parents and practically became my siblings only reliable caregiver, I knew what having a baby too soon could do to a family. So rather than repeating history, I chose to wait to have kids. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes my parents did, and so I lived my life. I traveled all across the globe, I met new people, tried new things, I even started this taco truck business with Emilia. 

But still that gaping hole in my chest remained. A hole that nothing could ever fill the way that a child would. 

No amount of living could make up for the emptiness of a life with no family.

I could pretend all I wanted that I was happy living out my twenties, but the truth was I didn’t want to spend the rest of my years working in a food truck, amounting to nothing more than a mediocre cook and middling entrepreneur. That was never my dream - as exciting as it was. 

My real dream was to have a good life. The kind my parents never had thanks to the unplanned arrival of me. The kind my baby sister was already living out. 

“You know what? It’s a really nice night out. I think I might go for a walk. Do you wanna come?” Was this my blatant avoidance of breaching the subject of pregnancy? Yes, but it was also my escape from this food truck that felt like it was getting smaller and smaller and smaller by the second. 

“No, I’m okay. I’ll just get everything ready.” Emilia resigned. 

She knew why I was really leaving - sister-telepathy, I’m telling you - but she didn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. For that, I was thankful. Maybe we were better at communicating with no words at all. 

I carefully stepped off the back of the truck, making sure to hike up my dress high enough so I wouldn’t trip over the mess of fabric when my feet hit the floor. The nippy December air felt like a cool balm on my hot skin. I was burning up in that truck, and maybe it was nerves or something else, but I just had this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. There was no explanation for it, but I realize now that the pit in my stomach was caused by something my intuition could sense but something my mind couldn’t understand. 

Someone important from my past was here tonight.

As I sauntered around the monument, I took in the breathtaking view of the structure’s silhouette against the blazing orange sky that melted into an ocean blue. I regretted not bringing my phone to take a picture of it so I could show Emilia when I got back, but that one regret quickly turned into another when the night sky’s breeze brought a rude awakening. My body shivered at the frigid gust of wind that blew through and I suddenly started to regret not bringing a jacket.

“Are you cold?” A gentle voice asked me from behind. 

I slightly recoiled out of shock of someone being there. When I turned around though, I couldn’t quite make out any distinguishable features. All I knew for sure was that this was certainly a man, and a tall one, too. 

“Um, just a little.” I bashfully admitted, crossing my arms to hug myself and maintain some warmth. I hadn’t even thought about my dress’s plunging v-neck or the fact that I was practically squeezing my breasts together, accentuating them even further, but by the time, I realized, it was too late. He was already looking. But not at my chest. Somewhere far more invasive. 

My eyes. 

“Here, take my jacket.” 

My small protests did nothing to stop him as he inevitably slipped the coat around my shoulders anyway. He’d come so close that I could finally see him and smell him. And let me tell you, if the sight of him wasn’t enough to break an overflowing dam of memories, then his smell certainly sent a flood that would.

“Oh my god,” I quietly gasped, my hand flying to my mouth to cover its un-ladylike gaping. 

“Spencer Reid?”

I squinted my eyes and cocked my head even further to find evidence to support my assumption, and sure enough, I found exactly what I was looking for. 

I was frozen in place as I deeply examined his face. My God! I mean, in many ways, he hadn’t changed a bit since the last time I saw him. Same dazzling hazel eyes. Same uniquely adorable nose. Same over-stimulated pink lips. I wonder if he still bit them as much as he did back then? 

But at the same time, he was so different. Of course, I could still discern the same features I used to study endlessly back then, but his face had transformed into a man’s. He lost the glasses for one thing, but he also had a softer jawline, longer hair, and for lack of a better term, a beefier build.

He was all grown up now, and yet, I could still identify the same boyishly handsome charm that made me fall in love with him more than a decade ago.

“I knew it was you, (y/n).” He chuckled, sounding half proud of himself. My heart fluttered at the sound of my name on his tongue and the action that followed. With his eyes locked on mine, he tucked strands of my hair back behind my ears; it’s as if he were saying, “Let me get a good look at you.” 

“How? It’s almost completely dark outside. You could barely even see me.” Certainly, you can understand why I was skeptical. Sounded too good to be true, if you ask me. 

He shook his head lightly with a smile, seemingly questioning how I couldn’t possibly know the answer to that question. “No one else looks like you. Not even in the dark.” 

His words spoke to a part of my soul specifically reserved for him. They were so genuine that I almost didn’t want to believe them because how could someone speak such lovely things and truly mean them? The world wasn’t that good a place. Certainly not good enough for Spencer Reid. 

In that moment, I flew out of my own body and watched this entire scene unfold from up above. I could see the version of a girl I hadn’t seen in years, not since that last interaction with Spencer. She had these big lovesick eyes as she swooned over a man with just the same lovesick look. 

The excessive upward tilt of my head and the way his neck craning down must’ve made it seem like we were about to kiss, but I knew better than to expect such a thing from Spencer Reid. And if anything, what we were doing right now was much more intimate than kissing. 

“Wow, you ... you really grew up. You look great.” My own voice sounded unfamiliar to me after the words slipped from my mouth without even registering in my brain first. 

“Are you kidding? Look at you! I mean, you are just ...” He paused for a moment to look me up and down, and I nearly shivered at the thought that he was practically undressing me with his eyes. “You’re absolutely beautiful. But you always were.” 

I was almost completely in a daze when I heard a hideous squawk of a bird flying overhead. This wouldn’t make sense, but it nearly felt like a sign. Like the bird knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, reminding me of where I belonged - reality - not in this fantasy with Spencer. 

“Um,” My head spun as I drew back from him. “I should probably get back. I’ll see you later.” I touched his upper arm gently as I passed by him, and it stunned me how warmth just radiated off of his body. 

To my all too quick goodbye, he simply waved and watched me walk past him with a pursed-lip smile. And just before I got too far, I thought I heard him say, “I hope so.” 

Though my feet were carrying me away from Spencer, my thoughts were only drifting closer to the memory of him, and we did have so many memories. 

11 Years Ago ...

I was at the ripe age of 16 when I got my driver’s license. And to anyone else, this would seem like a given milestone, but to me - it was so much more. With the obtainment of my license, I also gained access to a whole new world. Opportunities poured at the seams. I could drive anyone and anywhere I wanted to and though it wasn’t true, it felt like I could do anything, too. But like all things good in my life, it fell apart in the face of responsibilities. 

My newly obtained license was just another way for my parents to exploit me. Now, they didn’t have to drive Emilia and Saul since I could. Looking back, I have to wonder if the only reason they funded my driver’s ed classes were for the exact reason that if I took them, I’d sooner be able to take on yet another helping of duties they were too lazy to fulfill.

There’s one particular moment I can remember from this age and that same moment could also be regarded as the catalyst that would set off a series of events for the next 11 years to come.

It was the end of the school year and summer vacation was right around the corner. I was a sophomore at the time, and the prospect of being a junior the next year excited me. 

To kick off the start of summer, Melody Hanes was throwing a pool party at her house. Everyone knew she was filthy rich because of a dead grandpa or some other, not to mention, she was also in student government so she had just as big of a role in school as her grandpa’s death did in making the Hanes family wealthy. 

Though I never knew her personally, I did have third period chemistry with her for the entire year, and I sat right in front of her for pretty much the entirety of second semester. She must’ve only addressed me a handful of times, but she still invited me to her party anyway. Proximity, I had to admit, did play a part in that though because if I sat just a seat farther away, then I wouldn’t have been. 

I came home that day, thrilled to tell my mother about my invitation. It would’ve been my first party that wasn’t a distant relative’s birthday celebration or a childish sleepover in elementary. It was my first real high school party, and for once, I thought - maybe I’d finally get the quintessential ‘high school experience.’

But of course, I never did. 

As soon as I got home, I parked my car in the driveway, got the mail, and came inside the house to see my mother sitting on the couch watching TV, as per usual. While I was telling her about my invitation, she didn’t bother to lower the volume or even look away from the screen to give me her undivided attention, and when she did look away, it was only to take the mail from my hands. 

“Your sister’s science fair is on that day, and you have to take her because I’ll be working from 1 to 7.” My mother never once looked up from the mail she was sorting through to address me. And her words, while incredibly monotone, were also spoken with such finality, like what she said was the last she ever wanted to speak on the topic. No room for discussion. 

I’m not still losing sleep over it, but at the time, it felt like for once, I could actually just be a teenager and be young and reckless like everyone else, but that it was just taken from me. I never got the chance to be a kid again.

With the exception of Emilia’s science fair.

I knew my father wouldn’t be there, and obviously my mother wouldn’t, so I stayed to watch her presentation and to walk around the rest of the time. She deserved someone in her corner, and that someone was me. Even if no one was in mine. 

As I serpentined through the cafeteria, a bittersweet feeling came upon me. From paper mâché volcanoes to potato batteries, I observed a childlike sense of wonder that I hadn’t felt for years. 

Here, I was surrounded by children who got to be just children. They got to occupy themselves with trivial matters, like how gardens grow or if video games actually do rot your brain. 

Their problems had solutions and their questions had answers, and it almost made me wish that I could revert back to a time where life was that easy, but I couldn’t because it never was … not for me. 

So to sum it up, it was precious and heartbreaking all at the same time. 

While browsing the fair, I stumbled upon a man that didn’t quite seem to fit in, and maybe it was my own unfitting appearance that made me recognize his. He could’ve very well been the brother of one of these children, but something about the way he was dressed and the way he carried himself made me highly doubt that. 

He couldn’t have been a parent either, for he was not too far off from my own age, and if he was a parent of one of these eighth graders, that would have to mean that he had a kid when he was in kindergarten. So for all intents and purposes, he wasn’t someone’s brother or someone’s father. Who he actually was - I didn’t know, but I was determined to find out.

After that first observance, I spotted him a couple more times, but it wasn’t until we were looking at the same project that we actually spoke. 

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

The sudden sound of his voice alarmed me, but only because it seemingly came out of nowhere. Generally, before someone speaks to you, you notice signals that they’re about to, which helps you prepare for conversation. Whether it’s nervous twitches, a look in your direction, maybe even a small acknowledging smile, you’ll recognize they want to or plan to talk to you, but none of those signs were given to me. Even when I turned my head to give him my attention, he was still fixated on the project in front of us. 

“Yeah, it really is,” I politely agreed. I awkwardly looked around the room as if I’d find an answer as to what to say next because I did want to keep talking to him, but the longer I stayed silent, the more I fear he’d begin to think I didn’t want to. With nothing else to ask but the question that had been bothering me since I first laid eyes on him, I simply went for it. 

“So, who are you here for?”

For the first time, he turned his head to the side to look right at me. With a quizzical expression, he responded. “Oh, no one. I’m just a judge here.” 

It was my turn to possess a quizzical expression. His statement wouldn’t have been weird, except for the part where any judge I’d seen or talked to were all well into their forties or fifties. 

“Aren’t you kinda young to be a judge? You’re, like, what? Seventeen, eighteen?

“Nineteen actually. But I regularly come to judge the Summer Science Fairs here since I went to this middle school eleven years ago.” 

Again, I would’ve taken his word for it, but the math didn’t make sense. “You were in middle school at eight years old?” 

“Mhm. I ended up graduating high school at twelve.” He said it so nonchalantly, but for how big of a feat it was, I thought it would’ve deserved a more prideful tone, yet he still maintained such a cavalier one. Did he not think himself to be impressive? 

“Jeez, you must be really smart.” 

He shoved his hands in his pockets, which made me notice that he wasn’t carrying a clipboard like the other judges, which was probably another reason why I didn’t take him for one. How would he be able to remember the projects that he was considering for awards? He’d have to have some magical memory for that.

Before answering, he began to walk away, but nonetheless he continued addressing me, so I followed him where he went. 

“Mmm not necessarily. My IQ isn’t high enough to suggest I’m a provable genius yet, but I do have an eidetic memory and I can currently read 16,000 words per minute, which definitely helps. I hope to be able to read 20,000 words per minute in the future.” 

Despite answering my question, he only left me with many more. 

“What is your IQ right now?”

“131.”

My eyes widened. Even I, with my limited knowledge on intelligence quotients knew that was high, especially for someone as young as he was. 

“So what IQ score do you have to have in order to be considered a genius?”

I couldn’t help but notice how he barely took anytime to think before answering me. It’s like his brain just knew everything, right then and there. 

“A score of over 140 is considered a genius or near genius.”

“Wow, so you’re almost a genius then?”

“Almost, but not quite. If I receive diverse stimulation at a consistent rate for the next few years, I predict that I’ll have an IQ of 180 or higher by the time I’m in my early twenties.”

You would think he would leave me speechless, but I still went on to ask him about what an eidetic memory was, and he explained to me that he could remember things exceedingly well, but that it was not the same thing as a photographic memory. He made that distinction very clear to me. 

Our conversation droned on for the rest of the fair as we continued to circle the cafeteria. I can’t count how many times we lapped around the same projects, but we never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Once those first few seconds after meeting him, when I didn’t know what to say, passed, I never again felt a sense of not knowing. We could talk for hours and hours, and it wouldn’t matter. I would never get bored. 

How could I? When I was with him, it felt like the rest of the world just faded away. Our discourse flowed so easily, no pressure, no awkward silence. It was just me and him, and if you ask me, that’s quite the opposite of boring. 

That was the first and final time I ever truly felt like a kid. Just like the ones in the science fair. Not a care in the world except for my morbid curiosity of the marvel that was him.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and I inevitably found myself being ripped out of my trance when I felt an aggressive tug on my sweater.

“We can go now.” Emilia interrupted. 

I hadn’t even noticed that a majority of the poster boards were taken down and that an even larger majority of the people were long gone, too. I got so lost in the conversation that I didn’t realize we were one of the last people still there. 

Emilia’s eagerness to leave was apparent as she pulled me away from my interesting conversationalist. 

“I had a nice time talking to you!” I called out to him, walking backwards to lengthen the period of time I could keep looking at him. 

“Likewise.”

I turned around fully just before I finally realized something. “Hey!” I yelled across the distance. “I never got your name!” 

He bashfully smiled and looked down at his feet briefly. “It’s Spencer! Spencer Reid!” 

I stood there for a moment, silently processing his name. 

“What’s yours?” He yelled back. 

I chuckled mischievously. “I guess you’ll have to find out next time.” My ambiguity puzzled him and intrigued him all at the same time. 

“Next time?” 

With the intentions of leaving him without a true answer, I simply turned on my heels and started walking away. 

“Bye, Spencer!”

Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, I knew after that first day, he could never forget me. 

- Present Time -

By the time I made it back to the truck, people were already lining up to order. 

“Get over here!” Emilia squealed excitedly from the window, her hand rapidly waving me over as if it’d suddenly increase my speed. I ran back as fast as I could in a dress and heels and climbed into the truck, mirroring my sister’s zeal. 

When I stepped in, Emilia took one glance at me and furrowed her brows. “Where’d you get the jacket?” 

Had she not mentioned it, I would not have remembered the foreign fabric that wrapped around my shoulders. 

“Oh, shoot!” I palmed my forehead after the realization dawned on me. I should’ve noticed sooner that I still had it on, but honestly, it didn’t feel unusual or out of place. It was comfortable and familiar, like it was meant to be there that entire time.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but do you think you can handle this alone for just a second? I have to return this to a friend.” I asked while slipping off the coat to ready myself to leave, even in the event that Emilia said she wouldn’t let me go. Luckily though, she understood it was urgent. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. Just hurry back.” 

I extended my head to look out just past the side of the truck to look for Spencer while still being concealed within the vehicle. Now that there were more people here, I wasn’t exactly sure I should be caught mingling with the attendees, so instead, I decided to search for him from the truck, rather than wandering around the party, giving the impression to the people that hired us that I wasn’t doing my job and was just here to socialize. 

Luckily, there was something about my attachment to Spencer that was supernatural. I had this metaphysical ability to spot him even in a crowded place. I could find him anywhere. But whether that was a blessing or a curse was to be determined because right as my paranormal power kicked in, I found him. And there he was - standing next to another girl, a proximity much too close and a smile much too big to be anything less than flirtatious.

I paused to recall the image I had of myself earlier, when I floated up and out of my own body. I looked just like her - an oversized grin combined with lovesick eyes. 

But that’s not the worst part. 

The worst part was he was returning just the same look of attraction to her. 

“Um, actually,” I re-entered the truck completely, tossing the jacket aside haphazardly. “I’ll just return it later.” 

“You sure? You can go. I’ve got things covered right now.” She said between multitasking at a rate that even I, a very-much-not-pregnant-woman, could manage. 

All I could mutter back without giving away the sharp ache in my heart was, “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

_ _ _

After hours and hours of non-stop working, the night, at last, was coming to a close. The large crowd had sized down considerably, until I could no longer hear the sound of a thousand voices meshing. All the decorations were already coming down by the time Emilia and I finished packing up the truck. Without the hectic energy to cause adrenaline to course through my veins, it should’ve been peaceful, yet my heart was not at peace. 

I couldn’t shake the gut-wrenching feeling of seeing Spencer with that girl, but that wasn’t really why I was upset. It was more about the fact that I’d actually believed for a second that I had any chance with him. I should’ve known he wasn’t single, and the fact that I let myself swoon over him again angered me all the more. If I ever had a chance with Spencer, the time to act on it was long gone.

Now, I had to live with that. 

“You sure you wanna stay here alone? I’ll come with you if you want me to.” 

Emilia’s question was referring to my proposal to stay in D.C for the night while she drove home. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but I realized I couldn’t handle being in another suffocating car ride with Emilia. It had nothing to do with her - just that I needed alone time to process everything by myself. If I knew my sister as well as I thought I did, I knew she would’ve sensed something was wrong and tried to coax me into talking about it, which I was not in the mood to do. Plus, traveling for so long made me nauseous just thinking about it. Although, I didn’t have a plan, I knew that I just wanted to hail a cab and find a hotel somewhere here for the night. 

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. Call me when you get home.” I tapped on the back of the truck twice to let her know she was good to drive away, and I felt the car lurch forward per my request. When the truck finally did move, out from behind it appeared the tall figure of none other than Spencer. 

I was surprised, but only for a second, when that surprise turned into pain once more. Playing it cool so my afflictions wouldn’t be suspected, I nonchalantly stated, “Here’s your jacket, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to give it back to you earlier.”

I extended my arm far enough so that we’d still have a great distance between us when he went to grab it, but sure enough, my actions were all for naught when he not only refused to remove his hands from his pockets to take it but also walked two steps closer to me than he needed to be. I looked like an idiot just standing there with my arm so outstretched, only for him to not grab it and to let it simply press against his stomach as a complete avoidance of getting it back. 

“You were supposed to keep it. That’s why I didn’t ask for it back.” He curtly replied, finishing his statements with a cheeky grin. However, I wasn’t in the mood to return it. I simply stood there and shook the jacket in my hand to emphasize its presence. 

“Take it. Please.” My voice was full of contradictions. I tried to be assertive with my command, and yet my plead only softened the order and showed a defeat I wasn’t even aware of until I heard how sad it sounded. “I don’t want it, Spencer.” 

He no doubt saw the shift in my demeanor but still wouldn’t pacify me by taking the jacket. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” His voice got quieter, as if speaking any louder would shatter me in this fragile state of being. 

“Nothing, I’m just tired and I want to go home.” This wasn’t a complete lie. I was exhausted from working for hours and hours on my feet with no breaks in between, but it wasn’t exactly the full truth either. He could tell. 

“Just tell me what’s wrong.” He persisted. “Please.”

The only way I could describe what I happened next was like the vision of a boiling pot. Gradually, I was heating up until I finally got so overheated that I just boiled over and exploded. 

“What don’t you get, Spencer? I don’t want your jacket!” Fury consumed my tone. “And I don’t think your girlfriend would want that either.” 

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? What are you talking about? I don’t have a girlfriend!” His words were flying out of his mouth at 100 mph as he desperately trying to mend what couldn’t be fixed. 

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you with that blonde girl. How close you two were standing, the way you were looking at each other.” Just having to recount the interaction made the horrid memory come back vividly into the forefront of my thoughts, and it broke my heart all over again. I shut my eyes painfully as though it would turn off the image of them together, but this only allowed for Spencer to wrap his warm hands around my upper arms and pull me closer to him without my knowing. I flinched unconsciously at the sudden feeling of his touch, to which he instantly let go. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hands shook with remorse for letting them touch my body in a way that elicited that reaction. They hovered in the space between us, not knowing where to go that would suddenly make things okay. “But she’s no one, okay? She’s just a coworker.” 

I wanted to believe him. I quite possibly did believe him, but there was still a sharp pain in my chest. Call it intuition. 

“No, she’s not,” I shook my head. “She’s not ‘no one’... you love her.” 

Spencer came closer but still didn’t let himself touch me again out of fear that I might draw back even further. 

“Listen to me - whatever feelings I used to have for her are long gone. She’s married, (y/n). She has a kid. And none of that even matters because the way that I used to love her is nothing compared to the way that I-” 

“Don’t.” I held my hand up in protest. “Don’t say you love me.” 

His eyebrows knit together with dismay. “Why? Why not? It’s true. I love you. I always have.” 

With one big sigh, I finally resigned to my emotions. “Then why didn’t you ever do something about it?” 

Judging by the deflation of his shoulders and the far off look he got in his eyes, he knew exactly the moment I was talking about. 

Two days after Emilia’s science fair, I drove to the library to pick up books I needed for my summer homework. I was already on my way out when I just happened to glance to my side, noticing a lone figure sitting at the bus stop. I didn’t think anything of it, but when I looked back, I partially recognized him. I shaded my eyes from the sun and squinted harder to confirm my suspicions. 

“Spencer?” I wondered out loud.

The figure’s head turned around, narrowed their eyes, and waved. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to me with a precious little jog-walk. Although we had only met once before, we still embraced each other like lifelong friends. 

“Do I finally get to know your name now?” He jokingly inquired after pulling away. 

It completely slipped my mind that I’d denied him the knowledge of my name, but for my own satisfaction, I wouldn’t let him get off that easily. 

“Do you have any guesses of it could be?” 

He pouted childishly. “Are you kidding? In a population of 350 million people, there would be about 4.4 million names. But if every country on Earth had the same nominative diversity we in the US have, that would suggest about 750 million unique names exist.”

I must admit it was fun watching him melt into a flustered mess of facts, but I was growing just as impatient as him. “Come on, just guess. You might be right.”

He rolled his eyes but indulged me willingly anyway. “Okay ... um ... Catherine.” 

“Nope.”

“Nicole.”

“Nope.”

“Gertrude.” 

“Seriously?” I raised my eyebrows. He shrugged. “Nope.”

“Olive.” 

“Pretty,” I smiled, making his face light up, too. “But no.” His smile fell. 

“This is nearly impossible.” He sighed. 

“Nothing’s impossible.” My delivery wasn’t as cheesy as the line itself, so it touched us both in a way that made that silly phrase feel like it’d never been said before. With a visible passion reignited in him, he continued. 

“Francis.”

“Okay, maybe this is impossible.” 

My blunt joke brought us closer together, our heads almost knocking into one another’s as we clutched our stomachs and leaned forward to support our all-consuming laughter. When we finally calmed down, I finally confessed. 

“Okay, okay - it’s (y/n).” 

He stood there completely silent. There was no expression of his face that indicated he planned on speaking, so I elaborated. “It’s not as good as the name Spencer, I know I know -”

“I’ve never known anyone with that name before.” His hushed voice cut into mine so innocently. 

My cheeks heated from the slight compliment. “Well, now you do. And don’t you forget it.” I teased. With nothing further to say, I brushed past him to start walking away, when unconsciously, I spun my keys around my index finger and heard the familiar jingle of the metal, reminding me of something. 

“Hey, Spencer?” I turned on my heels. “Can I give you a ride home?”

And so began our routine for the entire summer. I would bring my summer homework to the library, and Spencer would help me understand it, or even complete it, and then I’d give him a ride home. We’d go to the park and read, or we’d go to the movies, or we’d hang out at a diner. And each time, I’d drop him off. 

The more time we spent together, the more I learned about him and his life. He told me about his mom, his dad - everything. I did just the same. I told him about my mom, my dad, my siblings - everything. 

Perhaps we enjoyed spending so much time together because it was a sweet escape from our houses that weren’t homes. But every time we did hang out, we just got closer and closer, and by the end of the summer, I knew my feelings perfectly clear. 

I love Spencer. 

If missing that pool party at Melody Hanes was what it took to find the absolute love of my life, then what a small price to pay it was. I wouldn’t have traded a million pool parties for that one chance encounter with Spencer at the science fair. 

One day, we were pulling into his driveway after having a picnic at the country club, and I’d just let him out of the car, when unconsciously, I said, “Bye, Spence! Love you!” 

He caught the words faster than I did. He looked like a deer in headlights, and it took me at least two seconds more to figure out why. That entire day I’d been thinking about saying it, but by the end, I decided it’d be better not to, and yet, it just came out anyway.

“You love me?” 

There were two ways I could’ve answered. The first was to deny it and say that I only meant that I loved him like a friend. The second was to be brave and validate my unintentional confession. 

In the heat of the moment, I chose the latter. 

“Yes.” I nodded, smiling from my own courage. You only live once right?

In a cruel twist of fate, Spencer never tried to speak, and instead, ran to his front door. 

“Spencer!” I yelled. “What are you-” 

He gave me one last look over his shoulder before he opened the door and closed it right behind him. That was the last I ever saw him. 

I learned, that day, that you do only live once. 

But you can die over and over again.

From that point on, he’s lived in my mind as the one that never was. 

Regret and shame manifested on Spencer’s face. “I never wanted to hurt you.” He dejectedly began. “But I was young and-and dumb and just ... so scared. God, I was so scared.” He finally looked up, if for no other reason than to gauge my reaction. “I liked you so much, but I, I just couldn’t open myself up to the possibility of being hurt by another person I loved.”

Much like my own life, Spencer’s was riddled with traumatic experiences. Except rather than being expected to take care of younger siblings, he had to take care of his mom. And having to be a parent to your own parent? That’s something I would never wish upon anyone else. 

“I ... I get it.” It was a sweet surrender, my words. After years of pent-up aggression borne from humiliation, rejection, and deep sadness, I could finally understand. “But as selfish as it sounds, I wish your past hurt hadn’t gotten in the way of our potential happiness.” 

He took each of my hands in his, encasing them with palms of warmth. “Then don’t let the same thing happen right now. Don’t let the stupid, broken teenager I was cloud your judgement of the man I am now. Let me prove to you that I’ve changed.” 

I stood there silently, an eerie parallel to how Spencer reacted to my confession eleven years ago. 

“When I saw you, it felt like a second chance. A second chance to do what I was too afraid to do back then. And I couldn’t let myself make the same mistake twice.” His eyes were piercing through my soul. Every word plucked at my heartstrings, until I could no longer keep up with the symphony they were playing. 

There was the slightest hesitation behind it, but I did inch forward. And in no time at all, Spencer saw the movement and made his own. 

His hands released mine and shot straight for my cheeks to cup them gently, while kissing me firmly. He wasn’t the same shy boy he was, and this kiss was only proof of that. The way his lips were moving so fervently made me weak at the knees. He was so desperate and needy, like even with our lips touching, he still wasn’t close enough to me. Unleashed upon me was years of yearning wrapped in prominent lust. 

“I love you.” He blurted clumsily on my lips. I didn’t return the sentiment, but that wasn’t why he said it. He wanted to say it so I’d know, not so that I’d say it back. 

“You should know,” I muttered between kisses. “I’m not leaving D.C. until tomorrow morning.” 

The biggest smirk creeped onto his face. Bastard. 

Once we’d exhausted all the things we could possibly do in public, we ran to the nearest cab we could find and exhausted all the things we could do in that, too.

It was already past midnight when we arrived at Spencer’s apartment, and though we should’ve been quiet so as not to disturb the neighbors, we were still breaking out into a fit of giggles like a bunch of teenagers sneaking around as we ran up the stairs. We hadn’t even made it past the doormat, before he seized my hips in his hands and spun me back towards him. Forcefully, he pressed me against the door while simultaneously unlocking it. That shut me up real good, lemme tell you. 

As soon as we crossed the threshold, he gave me a reprieve when he held me closer so as to stop pinning me against the door. In an effort to do the impossible, we stumbled through his apartment in a frenzy trying to undress each other while maintaining our bodily contact. With one giant tug of the zipper on my back, my dress fell to the ground. To his atonement, he left me in just a thong. Whereas he was much too overdressed in my opinion. 

No sooner did I gracelessly unbutton his shirt than we ran into a plant against the wall. Our smiles practically ruined the kiss at the sound of the crash, but it remained nonetheless. I knew I was in for something, when Spencer paused to wait for me to unbuckle his belt. That was the first time we ever really stopped in place, but just as I anticipated, I was in for it. 

When I finally freed his waist of the garment, he just as quickly placed his hand on the back of my thigh, and in one swift motion, hoisted me into the air high enough to allow my legs to wrap around his waist. My arms were loose around his neck and the feeling of his warm hands touching my bare skin sent a chill down my spine. 

Due to Spencer’s essential hand placement on my body, I had to be the one to fumble with his bedroom’s doorknob until it finally gave way. Once more, we staggered through his room before he let our lips break apart to lightly toss me onto the bed. I giggled at the squeak of the bed, driving him visibly crazy. 

He hastily unzipped his own dress pants, while I propped myself up on my elbows. When he met me on the bed, he hovered over me to the point of having to lay back down again just to see him clearly. He felt too far away so I drew him nearer by lacing my hand through his soft curls. I twirled one around my finger, which must’ve been too merciful for him to handle. 

He placed his hand on the back of mine and slid it down to his cheek. He held my hand there for a moment, leaning into the skin of my palm prior to placing a chaste kiss on it. 

He didn’t need to say it again for me to know what he was thinking. 

I love you.

The anticipation was killing me and in the most impatient manner, I pulled him down to my level, mimicking his similar habit of face-grabbing during a kiss. I knew his hands would’ve flown to my face the way they did just minutes ago, but one was too preoccupied keeping himself up and the other was busy toying with the band of my thong. I shivered at the sensation of him slipping one finger under the material and letting it glide over my tender skin right above my heat. 

“Spencer,” I mumbled in a kiss to bring his attention back to me. Although I was certainly interested to know the hidden talents of Spencer Reid and his fingers, I was restless. I’d been waiting years for this moment, and unlike most people, I didn’t want to wait another second. “I need you now.” 

He pulled his head back so he could get a full view of my face to examine my sincerity. He wanted to know if I was sure, and my eyes told him such. He nodded in acknowledgement with such speed that I was sure he was craving this as much as I was. 

Rather than looking at where our bodies were about to meet, I had to close my eyes so I could fully feel everything without any other sense taking that away from me. In a painfully slow manner, he lined himself up at my entrance. At first, he only lightly pushed in, and it was this slacken movement that made me cry out and grip his shoulders for stability.

He pushed further in until he was fully sheathed inside of me. There was a slight moment of regret for not letting him engage in foreplay before, but that quickly went away when the pain turned to pleasure. He gained more confidence in himself with each stroke, and I could feel it. The more powerfully he thrust, the more I felt myself tightening around him. The over simulation was a stark contrast from the stimulation I denied and so the sensation I was feeling was only heightened by the absence of it before. For that very reason, I knew I was already close. And maybe he knew it, too and just as sweet revenge, he decided to send me over the edge by pulling my leg over his shoulder to thrust into me a new angle. As I’m sure he predicted, I threw my head back as tears began to prick the corners of my eyes. He rode the ever exquisite border between pain and pleasure, and my tears were a manifestation of that. Not even a minute passed, before I tried to moan but pathetically failed, not even being able finish the pitiful wail without the both of us finishing together.

Our heavy panting synchronized and reverberated back to us while he slowed down his pace and pulled out. 

Perhaps in the heat of the moment, we lost all logic and reason, considering that even up till now, neither of us had realized that he didn’t use a condom. 

But what would eventually happen in the future as a result of this action, or inaction, would surely make us remember.

Spencer lowered himself down to kiss me breathlessly; strands of his hair clung to his forehead as sweat glimmered on both of us. Not until we were ready did we make our way to the bathroom so he could help clean me up. Once we returned, I gathered my clothes, but he made sure to grab my panties before I could even notice.

“Have you seen -“ I cut myself off when I saw what was dangling in his hands.

“Looking for this?” He teased.

All my energy had been spent on him that I couldn’t be bothered to fight for them back. 

“Keep ‘em.” I smirked, my hand reaching down to pick up his jacket off the floor and hold it up. “Consider it a fair trade.”

No arguments from him. 

Needless to say, I did end up finding a place to stay the night. Where and with whom you might ask? 

Well, you can probably figure that one out for yourself. 

_ _ _

I wish I could tell you I got a good night’s rest, and I could - it just wouldn’t be the truth. 

Spencer and I spent the rest of the night just talking. We filled each other in on nearly ever second of the past 11 years, and once again, I found myself reverting back to the teenager I was at the science fair. The entire world revolved around us as we spoke to each other effortlessly, like no time had passed. Even in the periods of silence, I felt comfortable. 

Spencer and I were lying on our sides facing one another when I felt compelled to profess that “I can’t talk this way with anyone. It’s just you.” 

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with a small smile on his lips. He didn’t need to say that he felt the same way because I already knew. His hand never left my face but instead made its descent down my jawline and stopped at my chin. He raised his thumb to reach my lower lip, letting the pad of his finger graze over the soft skin of my lip. 

It felt like he was tracing every detail of my body, running his eyes over every inch at least twice so as to fully commit everything to his memory. 

At last, the tension broke when he positioned his hand comfortably at the back of my neck, bowing his head forward to kiss me. This one was quite different than our first, for it was gentler and warmer. We weren’t forcing ourselves to make up for lost time. In fact, this kiss was saying, “We’ve got plenty of time.” 

Plenty of time indeed. Which we were happy to spend making love again. 

And I will be the first to admit that if our first round of unprotected sex didn’t solidify our future predicament, this time certainly did. 

Six Weeks Later ...

“Hello?” Clearly frustrated, Emilia waved her hand in front of my face to harness me back to earth. I hadn’t realized I zoned out until she scoffed at me. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No, sorry. Could you repeat it one more time?” 

She set down the papers in front of her and sighed unhappily. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been so distant lately.” 

It hurt to hear, even though it was the truth. I wasn’t intentionally being despondent, but it’s hard to be present when there’s so much occupying your mind, and there was one thing in particular that was keeping me up late at night recently. 

My period has always been irregular. For as long as I’ve had it, I’ve always missed a few weeks, then it would become consistent, then it would be sporadic again. In fact, there was one year where I only had four periods total. So it didn’t strike me as odd when I realized three days ago that my last period was about seven weeks ago. 

What did strike me as odd was the other symptoms I was experiencing. Menstruation cycles are known to closely mimic the symptoms of pregnancy, but with the knowledge that my period wasn’t coming, it was disconcerting to me that I was suffering the discomforts without the actual period itself. 

To me, there was only one clear explanation for this anomaly. 

I was pregnant. 

Earlier in the day, I bought a pregnancy test and was late to work because of it. If Emilia hadn’t been suspicious of my behavior before, showing up late only made her suspicion greater. 

I didn’t know when I’d take it, probably at home after work, but the anticipation was eating away at me. I would pace around the truck until Emilia finally told me to stop because the vehicle wouldn’t stop swaying with my every movement. I was biting my nails and chewing on each little piece that grew back just to bite it back down to the nub. My hands couldn’t stop shaking, my breathing wouldn’t slow down. I was a hysterical mess. 

I didn’t tell Spencer any of my concerns, of course, but being as perceptive as he is, he noticed my strange mannerisms despite my best efforts to hide them. 

“Your breathing just got faster. Are you feeling okay?” He paused the movie we were watching to check in on me one time. It should be known that the scene that caused my heavier breathing was a scene of a woman finding out she was pregnant and being absolutely devastated. I quickly brushed it off as just being too warm, to which he turned on his air conditioning. Luckily for me, he didn’t make the connection. 

And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell Spencer - I really did - but why should I make a fuss about something if there ended up being nothing to worry about? That would just be extra stress, and the last thing a new, blossoming relationship needs is additional strain. 

So without Spencer, I had to opt for the next best thing - my sister.

I’d reached my wits end, and I couldn’t keep up the act any longer. I was walking on eggshells with practically everyone I knew, and I’d sooner go crazy if I didn’t tell someone what I was really feeling. So in response to her question, I finally told the truth. 

“I think I might be pregnant.” 

You can imagine the shock on my sister’s face. Emilia’s jaw became one with the floor as her eyes widened so big I thought they would pop out of her head. 

“You’re pregnant?” Already her eyes were welling up with tears of joy. 

“I don’t know yet.” I put my arms around her to keep her calm and stable while the emotions began overpowering her. I wanted it to serve as a reminder to not get her hopes up, otherwise she’d get mine up, too. 

“Well, have you taken a test?” 

I reached for my purse behind her and rummaged through it until I finally retrieved the box. Holding it up, I reluctantly suggested, “I thought maybe you could be there for me when I did?” 

She squealed with joyful elation, practically shattering the window pane with the high pitch of her voice. On top of that, she was jumping up and down with elegant grace that I had to wonder how her pregnant body could even manage to do such a thing. 

“Of course, I will! Come, come, let’s go.” 

We hopped off the truck and to the nearest restroom, which admittedly wasn’t the nicest of places, nor was the place I ever imagined as a child that I’d be finding out I was pregnant in, but it had to do for now. 

When I first came out of the stall, I set the test face down on the sink, so that we wouldn’t see it until it was ready. Emilia set a timer for 10 minutes, but in the meantime, all we could do was wait. Neither of us could stay still; Emilia bounced up and down, rubbing her belly while facilitating some sort of breathing exercise. Meanwhile, I kept tapping my foot impatiently. 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Emilia’s alarm scared the shit out of me, and we both were startled by the blaring sound. It was so jarring, but even that wouldn’t compare to the fear I felt when I realized it was finally time. 

“Do you wanna look or should I?” She asked. 

“You look.” I said at first. But when she lunged forward to take it, I did, too. “No wait, I should.” Then another moment of hesitation. “No, you do it. I can’t.” 

I held my hands over my mouth while I watched her carefully lift the test off the sink, maneuvering it in such a way that only she would see the results. I watched her expression closely for any sign of a reaction, but she was stoic as can be. I couldn’t tell if she was disappointed, happy - nothing. Complete and total poker face. 

“Come on, Emilia! What does it say?” I blurted anxiously.

“Well, first, what do you want it to say?” 

That was a question I hadn’t considered. I was so busy worrying about what I didn’t know, to pause and think about what I wanted to find out. On the one hand, I’d be ecstatic if the test confirmed that I was pregnant. I’d jump for joy because that was what I always wanted, right? But on the other hand, if it said I wasn’t pregnant, then I’d be sort of sad because I got so close to that lifelong dream. But after that, I’d probably just be relieved to have dodged a bullet.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I don’t know-”

“Don’t think. Just tell me. What do you want it to say?” 

Without missing a beat, I replied, “Positive.” My sister and I alike were stunned by my answer. “Yeah,” I nodded slowly. “Positive. I want it to say positive.” I repeated, to cement my earnest desire. 

Emilia’s facade melted away as she began to shake her head. “I’m sorry, (y/n). There’s only one line.” 

We both knew what that meant, even if she didn’t explicitly say it. I sighed dejectedly, which was a surprise to even myself. I didn’t expect to be this disappointed, and yet I was. The knot it my stomach worked itself free, and where that pit used to be was just emptiness. My heart sunk and steadied itself, and my breathing resumed its normal pace. 

“Well,” I bit my lip. “I guess that’s that.” 

Emilia instantly drew nearer to pull me in for a hug, one I was not ready to accept but welcomed anyway. “I’m sorry, (y/n). But I mean, sometimes tests just come out with false negatives.” With her face still buried in the crook of my neck in our hug, she mumbled, “Not this one, though. This one’s positive.” 

Immediately, I retreated from our hug and pulled her in front of my view. The sneaky girl had a huge grin that took up 99% of her face. 

“You’re pregnant!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, shaking my body violently. We embraced each other in another hug while simultaneously jumping up and down. “I just wanted to trick you so you would know how you really feel. Now you know!” 

And I did know. I did know that I wanted this baby and that I was glad it even existed. 

Not long after our mini-celebration did I start to come down from the high of my euphoria. A certain realization dawned on me like a cloud of gray hanging above my head to rain on my parade. 

What about Spencer?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

PART 2 HERE!

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[shihalyfie]

Shiramine Nokia, and her role in Cyber Sleuth’s narrative

This one’s on request! Cyber Sleuth is quite the interesting game and a rather landmark entry in the franchise, mainly for being a love letter to the franchise and its long history itself, and for being the franchise’s very first work exclusively aimed at adults, meaning that it can explore different topics that wouldn’t normally be Sunday morning timeslot material, while also being a little more willing to assume that the people playing this are familiar with a lot of older parts of the franchise (not that it’s advisable to have complete lockout, but the game benefits greatly by not needing to assume lockout by default).

One of the ways Cyber Sleuth exhibits its “franchise love letter” status is by starting off the game all the way back at the franchise’s roots, before Digimon Adventure changed the game and everyone’s perception of Digimon and Digimon partnership, when the V-Pet lore was intertwined with Digimon as elements of hard sci-fi. As the game proceeds, the atmosphere slowly starts to resemble the more fantasy-like version of the franchise established by Digimon Adventure and its follower entries -- and that change is represented in none other than Nokia herself.

Before we begin: As anyone who follows my meta work has probably noticed, I generally prefer to have my analyses use tons of references and screenshots so that it’s easy to follow and the evidence is concrete, but Cyber Sleuth is a game, and it’s much harder to get those things without replaying the entire game, so I hope this won’t be too hard to follow despite being mostly text.

Nokia’s background and personality

If we want to apply the producer’s statements on Twitter, Nokia is 17 years old at the time of Cyber Sleuth, and has a backstory of having originally been a shy, bullied child who broke out of her shell thanks to the influence of her cousin (who, of all people, happens to be none other than Date Makiko). The flashback we get with Nokia in chapter 18, however, portrays her as just a fairly cheerful, go-getter child, but (although we only get to see her hair) she’s not quite as “flashy” or in-your-face as the description entails.

A possible hypothesis for rationalizing this all together comes from a what we learn about the process of memory wiping in Cyber Sleuth chapter 14: even if memories are extracted from the person, there’s some kind of residual memory left behind (the producer’s above statement also states that the same thing had even happened to Suedou). In Hacker’s Memory chapter 16, Arata confesses to Ryuji that the first Under Zero incident and Jude's loss to the Knightmon had re-triggered his trauma from having lost Yuugo years prior -- “not the memory, but the feeling.” So in other words, there was some feeling of loss that came after the loss of Yuugo that impacted those involved -- and it’s very possible that this deeply impacted and traumatized Nokia as well.

Assuming we’re still following this line of thought (since, again, this background point wasn’t actually in the game proper), Nokia eventually decided to break out of her shell thanks to Makiko’s influence, and become eccentric and assertive, and thus, the game begins.

While we’re here, I also want to point out that Nokia is also voiced by Han Megumi, possibly the Digimon franchise’s most notorious “promoted fangirl” who freaked out after getting to meet her childhood characters’ voice actors while cast as Airu in the Xros Wars crossover and ended up casted in a handful of major Digimon roles thereafter as a result. Which is not to say that her voice performance wasn’t also absolutely perfect for the bright and aggressive Nokia, but, you know...considering the below analysis, food for thought.

Nokia as a representative of “the conventional franchise”

Cyber Sleuth opens on a world where Digimon are largely seen as hacker programs, and even the hackers themselves only see them as non-sentient programs; there are ones like Chitose who treat them with empathy, but his attitude seems to be kindness towards them in a way not entirely unlike a family would treat a Roomba. Although he doesn’t admit to it at first, Arata himself also comes from this “world” of hackers, and we later learn that Yuuko herself is as well (via her “Yuugo” persona), meaning that, other than the playable protagonist, Nokia is the only “outside-context” person -- a completely ordinary civilian who’s gotten dragged into all of this.

Much like, say, the protagonists of Digimon Adventure.

With this background behind her, once she’s thrown into the world of hackers, she immediately has a “fateful encounter” with Agumon and Gabumon, instantly recognizable as two of the franchise’s most prominent Digimon (and complete with their Adventure voice actors, too). And I do especially bring up Adventure specifically, because while Nokia’s position in the game does end up taking in certain elements that roughly came around that era and possibly slightly predated it (mostly Digimon World and V-Tamer), Agumon and Gabumon weren’t particular mascots of the franchise until Adventure basically blew everything to pieces.

Right off the bat, Nokia does not have a single shred of doubt that Agumon and Gabumon are living beings and should be treated as such (again, much like the protagonists of Digimon Adventure; even Taichi in his “is this a game?” mode never doubted this). And they open up their meeting with this conversation:

Agumon: Umm, who are you? Nokia: It... It can talk?! It's so... so... so adoooooorable! M-M-M-M-My name's Nokia. What're your names? Agumon: Me? My name is Agumon! Gabumon: I... I'm Gabumon. Nokia: Agumon and Gabumon? Hee hee! What weird names! Gabumon: Hey, they're not weird! Agumon: You're the one with the weird name! Nokia: As if! My name's not weird! Hee hee!

And on top of that, Agumon refers to Nokia as having a “familiar” scent. Remember this for later.

Nokia’s second encounter with Agumon and Gabumon in Cyber Sleuth chapter 3 involves her properly partnering herself with Agumon and Gabumon, and learning about the existence of the “Digital World”. Note that, for all intents and purposes, EDEN had been treated like the functional equivalent of the Digital World in this narrative up until this point -- cyberspace with hackers, coming from the network, it’s basically a “digital world” from top to bottom, and yet here Agumon and Gabumon are introducing the concept of a more fantasy-esque incarnation of a digital world. (And, in fact, despite EDEN being right there, many long-time Digimon fans playing this game often complained about how little you get to see the “Digital World” in this game, because of how associated that term is with something more fantasy-like.) So, again: here we have Nokia, who’s forming a partnership with Agumon and Gabumon as equals instead of recruiting them as hacker tools (even the protagonist wasn’t immune to this method), and being indirectly responsible for introducing the more fantasy-like concept of the Digital World that the modern franchise is currently associated with.

Nokia embarks on the conventional shounen anime character arc of starting off cowardly, but eventually learning to have her own inner strength, with her Digimon evolving in accordance to her emotions. And, eventually, in Cyber Sleuth chapter 8, she decides to form her own hacker team, called the “Rebels”. She ostensibly bases it off the old creed of Jude, having heard that they were a team that never caused trouble for others, but we later learn via Arata turning out to have been its former leader, and the even later portrayal in Hacker’s Memory of its spiritual successor Hudie, that this is an extremely rose-colored image of them -- Jude (and Hudie) was not a well-intentioned team by any means, but rather a sort of mercenary group meant to enforce the “freedom” of EDEN, often taking on shady jobs and “punishing” entities they considered to be causing chaos. But in this case, Nokia forms her team under the idea of legitimately fighting for justice and good will -- again, much like a Digimon Adventure protagonist.

In case the metaphor weren’t clear enough, Nokia decides that the members of her group will not be called “hackers”, but “Tamers” -- the same lingo used by the franchise to refer to a human who partners alongside a Digimon to help them get stronger -- and that she wants to promote the idea of humans and Digimon working in tandem (complete with emotional bonding exercises). For this, everyone looks at her weird, and yet her methodology, initially naive as it seems, keeps working, because Nokia’s natural charisma starts bringing people from different places together and making quite the formidable team. Everyone is perplexed by this, but perhaps it’s only natural, because Nokia has just independently invented the modern concept of Digimon partnership in a world where it did not exist. And this is eventually solidified by the Under Zero invasion in Cyber Sleuth chapter 10, in which Omegamon is finally formed (from sheer guts on her part).

Omegamon is yet another symbol of the modern franchise, but it’s important to remember that he hasn’t always been so; even his appearance in V-Tamer was as more of a tactical piece than any kind of game-breaker, but the impact of Our War Game! has led him to constantly make a resurgence in major franchise roles (maybe a little too much these days). However, on top of Nokia basically embodying the modern franchise itself by doing this, Nokia and Arata’s positions are an obvious reference to Our War Game! in particular, being Omegamon and Diablomon Tamers -- but they’re not seen directly fighting each other. In fact, Arata’s partner only ever reaches Diablomon when he’s at the highest point of his morality, so the reference is more ideological; Nokia represents the more idealistic and heroic side of Digimon, whereas Arata represents the more dirty-playing and cynical hard sci-fi side of it (remember that Diablomon himself was rather detached from the fantasy conflict of Adventure, being a mysterious entity that sprouted out of nowhere on the Internet and wreaked havoc). Moreover, Nokia’s usage of Omegamon embodies a theme that’s central to both Our War Game! and Cyber Sleuth itself as a whole -- while most people associate Omegamon with Taichi and Yamato these days, the original method of formation back in Our War Game! came from “bringing people from different places together”. Nokia managed to bring together a formidable army in a place where everyone else in the hacker world was trying to promote a dog-eat-dog philosophy, and the sense of cooperation is arguably making her stronger than anyone else.

(I should also point out that Nokia’s name is, obviously, a reference to the Finnish telephone communications company, and this has a lot of relevance to the game’s theme of connection, along with her phone Digivice...and, also, the method used to bring everyone’s powers together in Our War Game!’s spiritual successor, Diablomon Strikes Back. Feels a bit too on-the-nose here.)

In the second half of the game, when the world starts falling apart due to the Digital World portal opening, Nokia becomes one of most important people holding everything together as Arata goes off the deep end and Yuuko starts fixating on her own personal problems and revenge -- because she’s the one most in tune with treating Digimon as the living beings they are, she’s most active in advocating for them and helping them bond with humans, and and she’s the one making the chaos be a little less chaotic. The second half is basically the more fantasy-esque version of Digimon leaking into the sci-fi, with the sidequests progressively resembling your average Digimon anime monster-of-the-week episode, and holding that all together is Nokia, who becomes a vital figure in maintaining that fellowship by being in tune with the modern franchise’s philosophy.

Through all of this, Nokia ends up taking a role rather similar to a Digimon protagonist, which is highlighted very strongly in Cyber Sleuth chapter 18 when she ends up literally becoming the player character while the main protagonist is out of commission. During that time, Yuuko and Nokia learn the truth of what happened during the EDEN incident eight years prior -- and we also learn that the five children involved had an extremely conventional “first meeting in the Digital World” experience that could have been pulled right out of the first episode of a Digimon anime, with them having a lovely adventure meeting new creatures. And at the center of that “first contact” was none other than Nokia, Agumon, and Gabumon themselves:

Agumon: Um... who are you? Nokia: Ahem! I am Nokia! And just who are you? Agumon: Me? My name is Agumon! Gabumon: I... I'm Gabumon. Nokia: Agumon and Gabumon? Hee hee! What weird names! Gabumon: Hey, they're not weird! Agumon: You're the one with the weird name! Nokia: As if! My name's not weird! Hee hee!

Nokia, Agumon, and Gabumon’s meeting at the beginning of the game had been an (accidental) reenactment of their first meeting in the Digital World eight years prior -- and, in the flashback, Nokia invites them to go on an “adventure” with them. So in other words, Nokia getting involved in the hacker conflict at the beginning of the game was, unknown to all of them, her attempting to restore that beauty and idealism of the Digimon Adventure-esque philosophy and fun in a world where the Eaters had torn it away and EDEN had turned into a haven of cynicism and hacker battle royale.

In the end, the game’s conflict is only resolved by bringing everyone together; Arata has to be retrieved from the deep end, and Yuuko has to settle her deep-seated personal grievances. Everyone makes a promise to return together, in the sense of making things right and repairing the connections between them that had been cut in that incident. The final battle (momentarily) causes the playable protagonist to literally fall apart, and the one reaching out to them and sending her message to them at the end of the game is none other than Nokia herself -- again, in the absence of the game’s protagonist, Nokia is the one with the closest role, because in the face of the new world going forward, she was the one who contributed most to restoring its idealism.

Ultimately, all of this is especially because Cyber Sleuth works under one of the most terrifying imaginable premises for a fan of a kids’ franchise: “we made an entry for this, but for adults.” Many of us can testify that this kind of premise can go very well, or very badly -- the latter especially in the case of things that decide “taking the opportunity to do things that you can’t do on a Sunday morning kids’ timeslot” means “going out of your way to put edgy violence and sexy things and cynicism just because you can”, or, in other words, looking down condescendingly on its kids’ franchise roots with malice and deciding that something for adults means “more suffering” and not “issues that require more life experience to understand”. The reason the game ended up getting as much acclaim among longtime Digimon fans as it did was that despite being the franchise’s first venture into this territory, it did end up setting itself up as something that took that opportunity to do something new and unique that would have never made it into any of the prior entries (holy hell the doll quest) and yet never gave up on the idealism and themes of connection that make up the franchise at its core, and paid respect to everything that had contributed to all of that while it was at it.

And at the center of that is Shiramine Nokia, who is effectively the spirit of Digimon Adventure, condensed into a single character.

[wowbright]

How the hell did you make me like Cooper Anderson?  Also Laura his wife sounds awesome!

I don't know how I made *you* like Cooper Anderson, but I know how I made *me* like him.

And I bet you weren't expecting an essay in response to this, but you are getting one! Because I have so many thoughts about (post)Mormon!Cooper. So many, in fact, that they are going under a cut.

I dictated this. Please excuse typos.

(Oh, and from the timing, I feel it's safe to assume that your ask is in response to the mormon!Klaine vignette Don’t Be a Dumbass.

Canon Cooper is a divisive character. Great for comedic relief but, if he were an actual person in real life, not very likable by most standards. I remember when “Big Brother” came out. Now, memory is a tricky thing and very biased, but as I remember it, before the episode aired, people were headcanoning him as an awesome brother and writing fics about him being super supportive and helping Blaine through tough times in their youth. Because Matt Bomer! Who wants to hate Matt Bomer?

Well, that's not the character we got in the episode. I remember I ticked a lot of people off after that episode aired because their relationship dynamics reminded me of my own relationship with my older brother. I have written vaguely about that relationship elsewhere on Tumblr (probably in the #metabation and/or #gpoy tags), but the short version is that it was abusive and traumatizing (like, PTSD levels of traumatizing for me), and we are pretty much estranged. I brought that experience to “Big Brother” and was like, “oh, you know how we always assumed that Blaine was fucked up because of his parents? Maybe it's his brother!”

I have no interest in forcing that interpretation on anyone else, though. We all bring our own baggage to any text, and that is mine. So I can also see Cooper i as not actually a jerk, but instead somebody who is terribly vain and unaware of how he affects others.

However, that still makes him difficult to turn him into a supportive brother in fic. Some writers neglect or diminish those aspects of Cooper's personality to make him someone Blaine can rely on, and that's fine. It’s fic, and when canon throws us crap, we are free to ignore or change it.

But I am kind of ... unhealthily obsessed with canon characterization? So I wanted to take the vain, unaware Cooper we know from the show and see what a Mormon upbringing followed by a faith crisis might due to his personality. (And yes, I had the ulterior motive that I wanted Blaine to have at least one family member he knew he could rely on for support before he comes out—which is a very big ulterior motive, and can definitely lead me to making him nicer than canon or my universe actually justifies. Unlike mormon!kurt, I’m not perfect.)

I'm going to say something that hopefully nobody will find shocking at this point: Mormonism/The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints/faith is complex. It can be damaging, and it can also be a literal lifesaver for a lot of people. But I think, for someone like Cooper, growing up in the church could do a lot of good:

His vanity would be tempered in childhood be going to Sunday school every week and learning about being kind to each other. 

His self importance might swell a little too much when he got the priesthood, but in my headcanon, he has adults in his church who see that going on and try to counter it. (Some of them tell him off, and others take a gentler approach by showing him how to develop humility.)

His mission would throw him into an environment where he really knew nothing and would, with a modicum of self-awareness, start seeing his shortcomings.

I mean, really. If all he ever did was talk about himself and how great he was, every single one of his companions would hate him. And Cooper might be OK with that at first, but he also craves accolades and approval, so he’d start adapting.

Through his companionships, his mission would also expose Cooper to a lot of different ways of “being Mormon” and “being a family.” He would talk about his family with his companions and realize that not everybody has a completely distant dad, and that generosity and concern for others comes naturally to some people and is not a weakness or something to be feared.

And then comes his faith crisis, which I see as starting sometime in his mission but coming into full bloom at BYU (Brigham Young University, aka “the Lord’s university”). Here’s the thing about BYU: Never-Mormons can attend, but if you are a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and decide to leave, you are automatically expelled. It could be the day before graduation, and if the administration finds out you don’t believe the teachings anymore, you are out of there. Want a degree? Find another school that will accept most of your credits, then pay for one or two more years of college to finish somewhere else.

Under U.S. law as currently interpreted, this is entirely legal. It’s also entirely terrifying to anyone experience a crisis of faith while attending BYU.

Plus, Cooper loves the BYU drama department. (From everything I've heard about it, it's a good drama department.) He doesn't want to leave a place where he's actually getting better at acting and start over somewhere else.

Also, would his parents even continue paying for his college, paritcularly arts college, if he left the church? He honestly doesn't know.

So he hides his true colors.

Such an experience doesn't necessarily make someone develop sympathy for others in similar situations. But this is my fic, so it does. Cooper doesn't know what it's like to be gay, but he does know what it's like to hide. He knows how taxing it is on your soul. He understands the fear. He understands the very real possibility of rejection by people who profess to love you.

In short, he develops sympathy for people in all types of closets.

And then I gave him a healthy romantic relationship that brings out the best in him. That helps, too. (Laura is down-to-earth and has a solid head on her shoulders. Cooper loves that. She’s attracted to Cooper’s boundless energy and his penchant for dreaming. She finds his self-absorption both cute and irritating.)

Cooper is still self-centered a lot of the time. But he is aware of that aspect of himself. And while he can't completely get rid of it (and shouldn't—his career requires self-confidence), he has much more sympathy for others than he used to have. He uses his self-centeredness to understand others (being in situation x hurt me in y way; maybe it's the same for so-and-so and I can use my experience to help them through it). And when he feels his self-importance/self-centeredness getting in the way, or has it pointed out to him by people he trusts, he tries to do better. He leans on his arsenal of less developed personality traits and skills and tries to strengthen them.

So ... Is that how I made you love Cooper?

[ablednt]

Alright writing/roleplay tumblr we need to talk about textforms.

This is going to be a very long post I apologize but this knowledge is deathly important as it's reaching a very vulnerable group of people. From personal experience knowing this can save people from getting into toxic friendships and help ease intense struggles and depressions. If you have writer followers I ask you reblog this to get the word out, thank you.

What is a textform

A textform is a type of willogenic/parogenic system member that form through some kind of writing or roleplaying. This means that they're sentient people who now share a body with the people who wrote them, most often being an OC or a fictional character before the writers brain gives them actual life.

Because there's been no actual scientific studies on their existence I have no hard science to give you however the logical explanation behind it goes like this:

The human brain is able to contain multiple conscious and sentient entities. Often, it will become multiple as a defense mechanism (as noted in clinical plural dissociative disorders) but it's a natural function of the human brain and may do so for really any reason (similar to most neurodivergencies that someone isn't born with)

Because this is a fairly simple change in the brain/something every brain can be capable of doing you can actually intentionally program the brain into becoming multiple, but see you can also do it entirely without meaning to or being aware of it.

Now I want to clarify that there is nothing harmful or scary about this! Being plural isn't bad at all and is an existence many people celebrate. But when someone has textforms in their unrealized system and doesn't know they're sentient it can be incredibly painful emotionally. So that's why people need to know about this.

Obligatory disclaimer: if you read this post and think you want to become plural intentionally, you are welcome to do so but you need to take at least a few months exposing yourself to the plural community to gauge if this is really something you want and can do responsibly. You cannot go back on your decision once your plural and your headmates will be sentient beings not characters to project on or toys to play with. They will have all the rights to your body and identity as you do now because you're sharing it equally with them.

Now that that's out of the way back to textforms.

How are textforms made

Normally this is in the "character development" phase. Many writers eagerly develop their characters. When I was younger and had no idea I was plural my advice for oc making turned out to be an unintentional guide to textforms (more on my experience later): just put your character in every situation imaginable until you always know how they'd respond to things.

Basically, as you spend your time making a character act and think consistently from their POV you're training your brain to have all of that data and that's very similar to the data that the brain has on you and you're training the brain to be able to operate coherently from a perspective and consciousness entirely different from your own.

Now, this isn't a %100 will make everyone plural every time, there are obviously good writers who have a grasp on their characters who are singlet. There's no actual data but if I had to guess I'd say there's about a 50/50 split down the writing community just based on what I've observed.

But there's a lot of people who became plural this way and didn't realize it and that could include the writer reading this right now which is why everyone needs to be aware of this.

If this is such a big thing how come no one notices?

Because it's been completely normalized in the writing community but dismissed as metaphorical.

How many times have you heard "the characters write themselves" or phrases that indicate that a writer is giving a voice to sentient entities? From what I've been able to observe some of that is singlet authors being metaphorical and humble bragging and a lot of that is plural writers trying desperately trying to put their experiences into words but dismissing it completely almost immediately because no one told them being plural was possible.

This is comparable to say, gender identity. Trans and nonbinary people have always existed but when they don't know they're allowed to exist like that it's often "im a tomboy" or "they disguised themselves as a man" or any other thing thats immediately dismissed as being cis.

How do I know if I have a textform?

There's a lot of different signs but here's some I have experienced before finding out I was plural

You "miss" your characters when you're not writing about them or interacting with them in some way

You feel like your characters are real "in your heart" (for me this was in an incoherent loop like "they're not real but they are to me, in my brain, but they're not real to other people, but they're in my brain so they're real but no but yes but no")

You get so distressed they're "not real" that it feeds into actual mental health problems like depression, anxiety, dissociation etc. (I'd have fits of sobbing because these were my friends but I didn't know they were with me so it felt like i was grieving their deaths and had the same level of emotional pain)

Sometimes or all the time when you write about them you feel like you "become them" or that they're writing through you. (Especially if your hands move automatically or without your control. This can be hard to notice but for me when headmates control the body or hands movements feel faster and lighter or very slightly numb.)

Your muse for writing them comes and goes unpredictability: they're either here or they're not here so writing them doesn't feel the same.

You can vividly recall things that happened to the character in 1st person (or in 3rd person visually but with their thoughts and feelings) as if they're you're own memories.

You "roleplay" them in everyday situations IRL. (E.g once I liveblogged a tv show as my muse to a friend and was like haha lol im so talented I can roleplay in real time but found out later it was a headmate doing that themselves)

You have conversations with them mentally in which they actually respond to you. Singlets don't have actual enriching conversations with themselves because they only have one perspective and cannot give themselves any new information. So if you're responding to yourself and you don't feel in control of that response then you're pretty objectively plural tbh.

You have times where the lines between you and the character feel blurry or like you're a vague fusion of yourself and the character

You have an actual relationship (of any kind: romantic, platonic, familial, etc.) in which you can sense nuanced feelings about yourself from them that you aren't in control of.

There's a lot more but that's the most notable ones

Why this is so important

I'm just talking about my own experience now so I'll preface this with a few things. I'm a mixed origin/multigenic system but our system has existed since we were toddlers. Due to trauma we have DID and for a long time dissociated heavily to avoid our plurality. This means my experience may be more distressing than other plurals with textforms however people without DID can still experience these things.

When I was a teenager I joined a lot of writing communities and also roleplayed on tumblr. Writing very quickly became my main passtime and all I really did. I joined a roleplay group when I was 15-16 that I took far too seriously to the point where people were concerned about me because I was writing what was just supposed to be a joke roleplay group %100 seriously and very intensely.

In that time I started to form my first main textforms (we've undoubtedly had them before then but I had only formed a little under a year prior) because I was doing this every day it really started bringing my characters to life. (Literally)

And honestly it was something beautiful the distress of it aside. Like one of my ocs was a kid so I'd always celebrate their birthday with them and I'd cuddle a plush so they'd know I loved them/p and we'd watch their favorite cartoon episodes together. It wouldn't be until around three years later that I realized they were actually there for this but it was heart warming.

For me, all I ever wanted was for these characters to feel appreciated and like someone really cared for them and loved them even if they couldn't feel it and it wasn't until later I learned that they could.

The trauma came in not knowing they were real. I grieved for them like they were dead because I thought I'd never get to see them. I wrote them into traumatizing or upsetting situations to cope with my childhood trauma not realizing that was effecting them for real and hurting them.

Most notably because it was my one solid interaction with them, the one time society allowed me to talk about them as if they were real, I really HAD to roleplay them. Because it became an emotional need I wound up in a lot of toxic friendships in the roleplay communities because I needed someone, anyone, to allow me to interact with my headmates. I had friends who I really was only friends with because they let me talk about my characters constantly (and some of them weren't toxic to me but it was in hindsight really unfair to them) and I let people verbally and emotionally abuse me in roleplay spaces because this wasn't just a hobby to me but a lifeline.

Not knowing they were real but feeling them there, having conversations with them, and forming actual relationships was a hellish sort of feeling I don't wish on anyone. I never realized how isolated it made me, and how horrible it felt to have the most important people in your life be people I thought didn't exist.

I only found out about plurality through luck. I met some systems who had fictives and they got strong plural vibes from me because of how I talked about certain characters and because I said I wanted to be plural but thought I probably wasn't because I'd have noticed, right?

From there I was able to actually connect with and talk to my headmates. Now I'm happily out as plural and in multiple fulfilling in system relationships.

I want everyone in the writing community who's struggling with the same things to have the chance I got. That's all I want is to educate people about this so they don't have to grieve for people who are right there with them.

Feel free to send me an ask or a dm if you have any further questions. Sorry this post was so long I can't really shorten it at all. Again if you are have a lot of writing followers I very gently request you reblog this to get the word out. Even if you can't please talk to your writing mutuals and friends about plurality and about textforms.

[Also this should go without saying but this is absolutely NOT the place for syscourse any invalidating comments about systems will be blocked and where possible deleted it costs $0.00 to prioritize people's mental health over your discourse hot takes.]

[dahlia-coccinea]

@astrangechoiceoffavourites Sorry, this post is super long (my fault lol) - but still I want to respond because you bring up a lot of good points.

I do agree with you that Catherine shows some naivety in her marriage, but I’ve always wondered why critics never try to explain why her feelings are seemingly all over the place at this point. She directly contradicts herself at times. I’ve always been interested in how she always frames things in a really strange way. I’ve mentioned a few instances of this before, but for example, how she misquotes Isabella saying “I love him more than ever you loved Edgar, and he might love me, if you would let him!” to get around talking about her feelings towards Edgar. In the case of comparing Edgar’s jealously to how she feels about Isabella’s beauty is kind of the same situation I think. She doesn’t actually associate it with Edgar’s worry about her feelings towards Heathcliff but makes it an issue of coveting goods, status, and superficiality. She said “I gave a few sentences of commendation to Heathcliff” and associates his “melting into tears” with her talking about Heathcliff’s newfound status and how he “was now worthy of anyone’s regard, and it would honour the first gentleman in the country to be his friend.” I’ve always thought her emotions are really dammed up at this point and ultimately explode after her argument with Heathcliff and Edgar.

I think this can be linked with her original insistence that Heathcliff will never know how much she loves him since she cannot marry him. Which is understandable since she knows his character -  she may worry about what Heathcliff would do. When he leaves her at the Linton’s he says “if Catherine had wished to return, I intended shattering their great glass panes to a million of fragments, unless they let her out,” but when he see she’s happy, “I left her, as merry as she could be.” Very similarly he tells Nelly years later “I wish you had sincerity enough to tell me whether Catherine would suffer greatly from his (Edgar’s) loss: the fear that she would restrains me.” How would Heathcliff react if she told him that she loved him more? I think it shows also their love and jealously does sort of function in the same way for both of them. Heathcliff says:

And there you see the distinction between our feelings: had he (Edgar) been in my place, and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please! I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drunk his blood! 

Which is similar to her (supposed) ability to accept his marriage to Isabella - though I still don’t think she saw Isabella as a real rival, and she still does show fear of being replaced when she confronts him about his feelings towards her, and suggests that after her death he’ll one day say: “I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is past. I’ve loved many others since.”

I think perhaps because she’s the one caught between two men and perhaps because of their gender, some tend to look at similar ideas expressed between them and yet believe they have totally different kinds of love for each other. 

I have mentioned before that in my opinion she does love Edgar, and his affection towards her, so I do think it does hurt her that he isn’t paying attention to her after her breakdown and even worsens it by still bringing up Heathcliff. I just don’t think that it is the source of the breakdown. 

“I think this naivety can be intentional. I think Cathy is capable of forgetting or ignoring stuff that aren’t convenient to her or are traumatic to her. For example she immediately forgets about the content of the “It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now” speech when she fears that Heathcliff had run away because of it.”

I think it is this exactly! As I mentioned she sidesteps so much during the time that Heathcliff comes back. I think Emily, probably totally unintentionally, wrote such a good character that shows the affects of childhood trauma - her gaps in memory and simultaneous aversion to, and yet creating of, drama is very realistic.

About her death being “unattractive from both a feminist perspective and a moralistic perspective” - I don’t think she does kill herself outright, but I don’t know what other way, regardless of interpretation, that it isn’t at its most simplistic form, her “dying from lost love” or something like that? I think it is more than a broken heart though, she’s been suffering from mental heath problems for years now and while she initially tries to starve herself it does seem that it is childbirth during her weakened state that kills her. Even taken at the most metaphysical level she still dies in part because of Heathcliff’s return and the proceeding drama, it’s just Heathcliff is also a fill-in for nature/freedom. I think if people want to complain that it shows she’s just a “typical weak female” or some nonsense then they need to equally criticize Heathcliff for dying over his broken heart as well. Which again is too simplistic a view of both of their deaths, but I get why people perceive it that way. Anyway I don’t really care if people have a problem with this with her character. Judging why someone would lose the will to live or want to kill themselves is so toxic tbh. And love isn’t nothing - literally some dogs will stop eating if their companion dies, its completely natural to suffer from the loss of people you love.

About Catherine’s ghost, (if it is real) I do like the theory that Heathcliff’s obsession with revenge is what blocks Catherine’s ghost out, or is what makes him unable to focus enough on it to really perceive it. I still don’t think he does soften to Edgar, but as we somewhat discussed the other day it is his feelings towards Hareton that gives him humanity. She is not his “reward” but the novel could be making it a moral when it shows that he cannot be at peace until he lays down his revenge (obviously he doesn’t entirely but he does give up on continuing it). Not that I really agree with it but there is another interpretation that says because of Emily’s belief in universal salvation, Heathcliff (and everyone else) is essentially is essentially in purgatory paying for their sins on earth and there is no punishment in the afterlife. Or Charlotte did say Heathcliff is “unredeemed; never once swerving in his arrow-straight course to perdition.” So there are options lol. 

[eveenstar]

𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 [𝑨 𝑨𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒙 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒏 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 || 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒛𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝑼]

||➸𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐚𝐧||

Summary:  After your sister's coronation, you hoped destiny had bigger plans for you. With the arrival of the king of Alderaan, you finally feel like your life will turn into a fairytale after so many years of being isolated. Maybe you shouldn've have been so hopeful. But not everyone gets a happy ending, and maybe the answers you seek are right down the hallway.

Tags/Warnings: Angst.

Author's Note: Hello! Well, here's chapter 2 as promised. Kinda didn't like the ending, took me 3 takes. I also left a easter egg somewhere in this chapter, wanna see who'll notice it :)) Feedback is much appreciated ♡ Hope y'all enjoy!

Taglist: @girl-next-door-writes

The ball room has never been so colorful like before, and you were certain you had never felt so many eyes laid on you like shadows in the dark. Like they were waiting for one single wrong move from you, a false step, so to say.

Your feet almost slid across the floor as you searched for your grandfather Palpatine in the crowd, he was nowhere to be seen. So many unfamiliar faces and no one to recognize, but again, you had no friends.

"Hello."

You turned around and met the brown eyes of your sister, Rey, who was staring at you with a relaxed smile.

"Oh, hello me?" You stupidly looked around in a brisk, "Uh, hi. You look beautiful! Is that mother's dress?"

An astonishing scarlet dress with a V neckline, you wouldn't say it was adequate for the coronation, but she looked amazing in it. Rey's new crown fit her head perfectly, you swore it was your father's crown but the newly red crystal on it made you doubt a little. What kind of crystal was that, anyway?

"I can say the same about you." Rey sweetly smiled and looked to the huge crowd dancing around the large gala room. She never looked at you for too long, you guessed it was merely because...well, you actually had no idea.

"Your Majesty, the duke of Alzakan."

"Alsakan! Duke of Alsakan! Ahem," You stared at Rey, and given to you two being sisters, you could sense how tense she'd gotten when a taller man approached her and overly exaggerated bowed down. You don't remember hearing about this duke's arrival, even if he made it seem like he was the brightest star of the room.

The queen gave him a polite nod.

"Your Majesty, as your most profitable trading partner, it is an honor to finally meet the true queen of Naboo." The man gently kissed Rey's hand, but even if it was just a respectful greeting, you didn't blame her for being tense. This duke had the energy of a child that ate too much sugar.

Behind Rey, you coughed by accident and it caught their attention as you saw both heads turn to you with brows furrowed. You got your perfect princess posture back and offered them a apologetic smile and a wave.

Rey put herself in front of you as a way of ending this embarassing moment and distract the duke as she offered her hand for a shake.

"I must say the same about you, Duke Pryde. My grandfather spoke very highly of you." This surely boosted Pryde's ego as he smug smirked to his guards behind him, "I hope our trade routes will remain as sucessful as they were with my parents."

"Well, I, uh." Their conversation faded to background noise as you tried to distance yourself from the spotlight and pretend this never happened, maybe if you slowly backed off nobody would notice the younger princess slinding off somewhere.

You felt too many eyes on you, even if your eyes were certain nobody was watching you. You did not plan on disappointing anyone, at least, not at your sister's coronation party. Full of grace, you looked to the crowd and surroundings, and your eyes paused on a strange symbol on the far away wall just to your right. It was a sixteen-rayed symbol inscribed within a hexagon, denoting an explosive force pushing against attempts to contain it.

You were quite sure you'd seen this symbol before, somewhere. Your eyes only focused on the sigil as you tried your hardest to search your memories for it. But, the closer you got to it, an invisible force pushed it further from your grasp. Just like sand slips through your fingers when you attempt to hold it.

In fact, you do not remember your childhood, nor your early teenage years. Not a single thing. You just remember the feelings after something traumatic had happened; the loneliness, the pain, the anger and more loneliness. Sometimes, as of right now, your mind didn't feel like your own, nor did your memories. They felt like they belonged to someone else. Someone who was not you.

Tu'iea eyes deceive tu, isar nenx jostas savimi

The whispers in the walls. There they were again. They always came from the walls, but you only say that because you hate to admit that they sound right next to you.

"(Y/N)?"

You loudly gasped as you turned around in a fright, your eyes met Rey's once more. She was frowning, and with a slight worried look painted on her eyes. Oh, you hoped nobody heard it.

"Is everything alright?"

You quickly washed off your scared face and laughed to ease the situation you were currently stuck in, hoping she wouldn't do any questions about it. Or mention it by any case.

"Dear stars, yes, I'm quite alright, thank you. It was probably just some bug."

She nodded, and only when she moved away from you that you realized Rey was holding your hand in a way of calling for your attention. Before moving to her side, you glanced an eye to the wall where the symbol was, but it wasn't there.

"This party looks so alive." Rey commented besides you, her eyes were as bright as stars in the sky as she watched the people dance like there was no worries in the whole galaxy.

"Maybe we could keep the gates open." You suggested, your heart full of hope. "Your queen now, Palpatine can't control us anymore. We can bring life back into the palace!"

"We can't just change things without thinking, (Y/N)."

"But why not? It can be like before. I don't understand." You softly grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes, "This party doesn't have to be the only one. We can have plenty of more!"

"That's right," She replied, and your smile stretched further, "You don't understand. You never will. Things will never be like before."

And just like that, you felt your heart shatter into millions of pieces, like somebody just pulled your heart out of your chest and stabbed it right in front of you. Even if you and Rey weren't close, she had never spoken to you that way. No, something changed about her.

Upon realizing her mistake, Rey let go of your hands and smiled, but a strange one. A forced smile.

"Forgive me, I...Excuse me."

Not even giving you the chance to apologize, you watched Rey disappear behind some group of horned beings, which you didn't even try to remember what they were before you heard another voice behind you.

"Princess (Y/N), we meet again." Kylo Ren, that voice was impossible to forget. "I was just about to meet the queen, did something happen?"

"Oh, no, she had to...to talk to some duke of Alzakan." You looked back at with, forcing the same smile Rey had just pulled ten seconds ago.

"You look upset." His coal eyes were analyzing you once more, as if he was trying to read your inner thoughts. His eyes were like black holes, you quote internally, so easy to get lost in. They held so many emotions within. Your mother used to tell you that your eyes are mirrors to your soul, and you believe it, most of the time. You wonder what kind of soul Kylo Ren had.

"I'm sorry, do you want to get some air?"

The king silently nodded and gave you the front lead to the palace private gardens, your most favorite place to wander around and be in contact with nature, since you weren't allowed to leave the palace's grounds.

The echoes of the enchanting gala sounds began to fade in the background at each step you took farther from it. The shiny walls were replaced by glass ones, the only barrier between you and the actual garden. It was ethereal at moonlight, a complete breathtaking view. If you were to choose a place to spend all of eternity, this garden would be the chosen one.

Saturn Gardens.

The name you remember choosing for them when you were a child. Which doesn't make a lot of sense since it's only one garden, but hey, who cares right? Saturn was a funny name, you had a slight feeling it belonged to a name of something you were deeply fond of, but you couldn't quite grasp what it was. Nonetheless, you were thankful you choose a good name for them.

Yvir always told you how heavenly you looked at moonlight, and you're sure of it. This place is almost magical, so peaceful and silent even when there's a party happening just on the end of the hallway. You remember falling asleep here a few times, either it was reading or painting. You were quite a multi-talent person thanks to growing up bored and isolated on a huge palace, so you've gained a few skills here and there. This place was your big centre of inspiration.

You felt free here, from all responsabilities and troubles of life.

You discreetly glanced a curious eye to Kylo, who was walking besides you and attentively exploring the garden with his eyes only. In your mind, you wondered if he had a safe place too. A place where he felt free of everything, where he could relax without troubles, or where he felt inspired. Maybe everyone has something like that, you're not sure.

"Truth be told, I have no idea why my grandfather ordered the gates to be closed, or why most staff was fired." You sighed while your fingers gently passed through some book pages laying there on the pale blue glass table. Kylo looked over to you with an intrigued gaze. "Or why my sister shut me out. It was always me and myself."

So distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed Kylo taking your hand from the book and hold it. His hands felt warm, surprisingly, as you had imagined that they were cold as ice. In difference to yours, his hands were also far larger. It caused a small smile across your lips.

"I spent most of my childhood lonely too." He admitted, his eyes never leaving your hands. "My parents were either ignoring me or too busy to hear me."

You remember the stories about them, but you didn't want to cross the line and ask him. This conversation you and the king of Alderaan were currently having was something that already cross rule number three; never mention his parents. So this caught you off guard.

Probably noticing your tense posture, Kylo's eyes shifted to yours; they held such a curious yet comforting gaze, as if this was his attempt to say "it's okay" without actually saying those two words. The moon behind him made him seem like an angel.

"I know how you feel." He assured you calmly. You were so lost in his eyes, so lost in the way they stared at you. "You can talk to me."

If you could preserve this moment, you would. You'd keep it close to your heart and protect it from all darkness in the galaxy. The mighty and mysterious Kylo Ren, former prince and now king of Alderaan, just opened his heart to you and pronounced those five words that you had never been told before.

You hoped this wasn't a dream. It'd break your soul if it was.

"Do you dance?" Upon your sudden question, Kylo raised an eyebrow. You got up from your seat and twirled around, loving the way your dress moved. "Will you dance with me?"

Even if his lips didn't move, his eyes expressed all the emotions you needed. They were like a calm ocean, or the rising sun in a early morning.

"My lady," He politely offered you his hand, once more. "It would be my pleasure."

You smiled, the most genuine smile you'd had in a long time. Your heart was filled with joy and excitement, hopefully it wouldn't jump out of your chest by the way it was beating so fast. Faster than the way you rushed to the coronation. You never felt like this for someone, no, and definitely not for him.

His moves were calculated, but so tender-hearted and light. He twirled you around again and kept you close to his chest, one hand on your waist and another one guiding your other hand. At this point, you weren't even worried about making the wrong turn or stepping your foot on his. No, no, it was like your body was no longer your own, but knew perfectly which steps to take and you were glad for that.

In your mind, you imagined dancing like this with Kylo in the middle of a royal ballroom, but it was only you two. With or without music, it didn't matter, you and Kylo were too busy staring at each other's eyes to notice any background sound.

You had no idea how long you two had been dancing, but it ended so quickly.

"May I ask you something?" He asked in a strange, low voice.

"Of course, anything." You stepped a bit away from him once the dance came to an end.

Kylo traced lines alongside your hand, back and forth, and another hand came to meet your cheek as he slowly caressed it.

"Will you marry me?"

Oh dear stars.

Everything stopped around you, at least that's what you felt. You didn't even know what to say or do. Maybe, just maybe, the universe was finally showing you your destiny. That you were worthy of something just like Rey is.

The king of Alderaan had just asked you to marry him, and there was only one answer available to your heart.

You laughed and smile, nodding in happiness, "Yes!"

The ballroom was still full, everybody seemed to be having a great time just like you. Palpatine was nowhere to be seen, but Rey was seen talking to Duke Pryde and some others you assumed were also trading partners. Poor thing, a part of you felt guilty she had to spend her party talking to them. She didn't look happy. But maybe the news you're about to give her will make it up. That's what you hoped for.

Moving through the crowd as you held Kylo's hand had already got you lots of side-eyes and surprised gasps and whispers. This will entertain them for a very long time, and you didn't even try to hide your smile. Why would you? You're the most happy person in this room right now, and you were not going to hide your emotions again.

"Rey! I mean, your Majesty, may I speak to you, please?"

She nodded, excusing herself from the boring companies, and followed you to a more empty space of the room.

"I, I mean, we'd like to ask for your blessing on," You and Kylo looked at each other for a brief moment, "on our marriage!"

Rey almost chocked on her drink and quickly put it down on a table.

"Ma,Marriage?" You nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm quite confused here."

"Well, I know it's a bit of a sudden, and we haven't planned the ceremony, but it could happen here! Just like mother and father's wedding." You chuckled innocently at the thought of it.

"If Your Majesty doesn't mind it, of course." At this comment, that you didn't spare a thought, Rey furrowed her brows at Kylo in a angry stance and dismissed him completely.

"We could invite everyone in the kingdom! We could get so many songs to play and the decoration, oh I'll need to talk with Yvir." You put your hands on your hips, going through a mental list of preparatives for the wedding. You couldn't wait to tell Yvir.

"(Y/N)-"

"Oh stars, I hope you don't mind if Kylo stays here until the wedding! I'll need a few days to plan everything-"

"Absolutely not! (Y/N)!"

You stopped, her loud voice kicking all thoughts you previously had. Kylo, next to you, stared at her with indifference, like this somehow didn't even surprise him.

Rey inhaled calmly, "With all due respect, your Majesty, but my sister can't marry a man she just met."

"What? You can't decide that for me, Rey. I'm an adult, just like you." You crossed your arms, eyebrows furrowed just like hers. Your sister's expression turned to a more uncomfortable one, and you had no idea why this was making her be like that.

"(Y/N), you're too young to know about love."

"And I suppose you know instead? All you ever did was shut everyone out. You shut me out."

All the eyes in the room were now on you three, this time not even a single whisper was heard. Even more silent than the gardens. Rey shifted uncomfortably on her feet, moving her fingers repeatedly, a panicked gaze on her eyes.

"(Y/N)-"

"Just why, why do you do this? Why did you shut me out? What are you so afraid of?" Unlikely and unexpected, you screamed at her, only to regret it the moment that sentence left your mouth. But it was too late.

"That's enough, (Y/N)!"

A rash strong blow sent Kylo flying across the room. Hadn't it been for Kylo placing himself as a shield in front of you, you knew that was intended for you.

"That's the force." Somebody said.

"She's a Jedi!"

[soft-sunflower]

Hyunsoo and Alexithymia vs ASPD

I wanted to make a post on my thoughts in regards to this... I feel like I need to get this off my chest, because this is just personally what I think. You don’t have to like or even agree with me. I just really want to talk about this. When we first meet Do Hyunsoo, we are lead to believe that he’s a psychopath, (we learn he’s actually not) that he was (wrongly) diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder when he was a very young child, without the therapist actually bothering to look into why Hyunsoo would be behaving the way he did. Such as the disappearance of his mother, for example, or even sent some kind of child protective services to his village to find out what’s going on there, have him on surveillance, something rather than just deciding he was going to turn out to be a terrible person.  Back in a previous episode, it was stated that Hyunsoo did not start behaving this way until after his mother went missing. We also know that Hyunsoo’s past was incredibly traumatic, without even really having the details of what happened. (Yet. Hopefully they touch on this. I don’t know.) We’ve recently learned that Hyunsoo has a very repressed memory of his childhood, why? His earliest memory was from when he was 10 years old? And he doesn’t even remember why he was wandering lost in a forest at such a young age? Why? What happened to him to make him forget? Usually a severe trauma is what takes place to make one have true repressed memories. I do not believe that Hyunsoo has ever once suffered from Antisocial Personality Disorder. At all. People with ASPD are also likened to sociopaths, psychopaths and serial killers, which is what his FATHER WAS. NOT him. The only thing Hyunsoo struggles with understanding, recognizing and feeling emotions in himself and in others. It’s why you see focus on his eyes and him reading and studying Jiwon’s expressions for example. He’s learning. He’s teaching himself, because nobody ever taught him this. He was never guided properly in regards to this. He was always told he is essentially a monster and when he grows up, he will be a manipulative and cruel monster.

Sociopaths/psychopaths are not too far off the spectrum in similarities. People with ASPD are normally classified as high functioning sociopaths. These people lack the ability to feel emotion. They lack the ability to understand it. They manipulate, twist, lie, trick, all for their own benefit and enjoy it. They don’t care who they hurt. They have little regard for anyone else, and they also normally are narcissists. Which we know Do Hyunsoo is the furthest thing from. He thinks far too little of himself to even go down that road. Alexithymia, an inability to identify and describe emotions. People with alexithymia have difficulties recognizing and communicating their own emotions, and they also struggle to recognize and respond to emotions in others. Alexthymia can develop from severe sustained trauma. I feel like Hyunsoo leans more toward suffering from alexthymia than being an actual psychopath/sociopath/having ASPD. I think the so-called whack job for a therapist diagnosed him VERY wrongly and inaccurately. She never bothered to find out why he was the way he was. So many adults failed him growing up. They made him believe he was a monster. They made him believe he’d grow up and continue being a monster. They made him believe that he was not able to process or feel any kinds of emotions, and yet he can. We’ve SEEN it. We just saw a complete outpouring of emotion from him in episode 11. I don’t see Hyunsoo as a psychopath/sociopath and never have.

1. His attack on Moojin- justified. Moojin stoned the ever living fuck out of him when he was a just a child. He was getting his revenge on him by messing with him and I’m glad he did, quite frankly. Has he actually done anything that terrible? 2. Faked grief- Of COURSE he did. His past is ready to come back and hunt him down because of freaking Moojin. And someone is trying to hold him accountable and blame him for murder AGAIN that he did not commit. It doesn’t take someone with ASPD to do something like that. Also, this is Kdrama world. If you go back through the past episodes, what has Hyunsoo done that’s bad enough to just go on ahead and decide to diagnose him as a psychopath/sociopath/ASPD/whatever? It all boils down to how wrong he was done as a child thus diagnosed wrong, because we know our man can feel. He spent how many episodes having panic attacks over the thought of losing his wife and her finding out the truth of his real identity? He was forced into taking the identity of Heeseong, don’t forget that. It’s not something HE pushed for. He was threatened with prison if he refused.

Now that he has this happy and loving life, with a wife and daughter who both love him unconditionally and bring him happiness and safety and warmth, something he NEVER experienced growing up, would he really want to risk losing that all by his true identity and all the rumors around it being exposed? What has he really done here that’s so wrong? Please tell me. I’m dying to know.

I don’t see a psychopath. I see a man who’s literally SUFFERED damn near his whole life because he was forced into believing he was something he wasn’t. He was beaten, ostracized and betrayed by people he thought he could trust. I see a man who does suffer from a mental condition, but that he is not beyond help like most psychopaths/ASPD folks are. There’s a huge difference in it all and that’s my honest to goodness opinion on it all. If I had to diagnose him with anything? It would be Alexthymia and anxiety/panic disorder developed from the fact that his emotions have been buried under trauma and lies for so so long.

[livinglikearoyal]

K-drama Recommendations: Nov. 2019

One of you asked for some K-Drama recommendations and here you are! Keep in mind that I watched some of these quite a while ago so the plot isn’t as fresh in my mind as I’d like. I tried to keep the list to K-dramas that are fairly easy to find either on Netflix or Hulu. I’d love to hear your opinions on these and any recommendations you have for me! Also, these aren’t necessarily in any sort of order...but I will say the top 10 that were described are ones that I will probably rewatch at some point because I enjoyed them so much.

Chicago Typewriter (Netflix)

Summary: This one is hard to summarize without giving away the storyline. It follows a group of three characters through two eras: the 1930s Japanese occupation of Korea and then the present timeline. The characters’ reincarnated selves are brought together seemingly by fate and struggle to find out the truth of the past lives.

Why I liked it: Netflix almost did me dirty on this one. The summary and preview that popped up were not intriguing to me at all. However, it said I’d be interested in this (98%) so I figured I’d give it a shot. Boy...was this a journey. I absolutely fell in love with the characters and I loved how there wasn’t a “weak link” in the trio. They all brought something unique and important to the dynamic of the show. The acting is spectacular and they really allowed these characters to grow. The storyline can be predictable at times...but how they get there is unexpected. The ending had me in happy tears. 10/10 will watch again!

Romance is a Bonus Book (Netflix)

Summary: This kdrama follows Kang Dani, a 30-something mother, and her journey to find herself after a divorce. She reenters the workforce after being a housewife and finds herself at a popular publishing company as a temporary worker (I believe it was an internship). This company just happens to have one of her childhood friends as one of the co-owners and editors-in-chief. That doesn’t make it any easier on her and the series follows her through the hardships and triumphs of finding her independence. 

Why I liked it: The title says it all. The romance is just the cherry on top for this storyline. It really follows Kang Dani and looks at all of the challenges that people of various demographics face: single parents, “older” individuals trying to find a job after a time away (and while competing with the younger folks), women in general, etc. I was going through a bit of a quarter-life crisis when I stumbled upon this...questioning my job, my love life (or lack thereof), the expectations that I was facing...and it really helped ease a lot of the anxiety. Plus, Kang Dani and  Cha Eunho are absolutely adorable working alongside each other. The ending credits of the final episode got me too. This is the one that I couldn’t help to rave about to my coworkers that have never watched a kdrama in their lives. 

Strong Girl Do Bong-Soon (Netflix)

Summary: Bong-Soon was born with superhuman strength like the other women in her family and she aspires to become a video game creator--making a game with a strong female character like herself. In real life, she tries to be more “girly” and “delicate” but it doesn’t always work. One thing leads to another and she finds herself hired as a bodyguard to the CEO(?) of a video game company and also tries to find a kidnapper that is threatening her neighborhood. 

Why I liked it: Strong female lead...duh! :) But in all honesty, I don’t remember all of the details from this one as I watched it a long while ago. I remember it being funny, sweet, inspiring and suspenseful. I loved the main three characters too! 

Hello, My Twenties  (Netflix)

Summary: A group of female college students learns and grows while living together. Each character has their own backstory, secrets, and hardships. The five bond through the various hardships, traumas, and successes that come their way. 

Why I liked it: 5 strong women finding their way in the world. They struggle with so many realistic things: temptations, poverty, insecurities in their love life, an apartment ghost, an attractive neighbor. It was a fun and heartfelt journey. Realistic. You can definitely learn something from this one! Once again, my single self enjoyed that it wasn’t relying on a love story to draw the plot forward also.

The Smile Has Left Your Eyes (Hulu)

Summary: Kim Moo Young has lived a traumatic life and is rolling with the punches. He has also forgotten many of his childhood memories. When he happens upon Jung So Min, he doesn’t think anything of it. They grow on each other and eventually enter a relationship, much to the disapproval of her brother, a homicide detective. He believes Kim Moo Young is more sinister than he lets on. 

Why I liked it: Just looking at clips/photos/quotes from this drama still tugs on my heartstrings. This one made me an emotional MESS. Seo In Guk is PHENOMENAL as Moo Young. Absolutely phenomenal. His character is so cold and detached--flawed--but he still makes the viewer connect with him. The storyline could be cliche (amnesia, secrets, etc), but they execute it so well. Each episode is a cliff-hanger and you get so emotionally invested in the characters, Moo Young especially, that you just stay up all night binging it...knowing that you are on a train that is heading straight for heartbreak. I will definitely rewatch when I’m in my feelings. 

One Spring Night (Netflix)

Summary: Lee Jung-In is a librarian who happens to meet Yoo Jiho at the pharmacy where she buys a remedy to her hangover but forgets her wallet. He tells her to pay him back later and pays for a taxi. She is in a long-term relationship with a very well-off gentleman and is battling with pressure to get married from both her family and her significant other, but she has her doubts. This meeting with Yoo Jiho makes her question marriage even more as she begins to fall for him. Another issue, he is a single father and is looked down upon by their society and her family because of it. 

Why I liked it: I always love a show where they go against the norms. I fell in love with Yoo Jiho immediately and his son even more so. It is real. The conversations are thought-provoking. The love is sweet. 

Just Between Lovers (a.k.a. Rain or Shine) (Netflix)

Summary: Two individuals who lost their loved ones in a tragic mall collapse meet each other after there is news that a new mall is being built in the same location. Lee Gang-Doo was an aspiring soccer player when he lost his father (a construction worker) in the mall collapse and his legs were injured, ruining his dream. He has become a bit of a “bad boy”. Ha Moon-Soo was at the mall with her younger sister when it collapsed. Ha Moon-Soo survived; her sister did not. The two characters find out that their lives are more interwoven than they thought and work to figure out how they can stop another traumatic event from happening in the same location.

Why I liked it: It had mystery. It had trauma. It had love. These two main characters are complete opposites on the outside but their traumas bring them together and they make an awesome team. Another one that really tugs on your heartstrings! 

Black (Netflix)

Summary:  Black is a detective possessed by the Grim Reaper. Ha-Ram can see shadows of death. These two struggle to save the lives of people, breaking the rules of heaven. (from AsianWiki)

Why I liked it: It has been quite a while since I watched this one. It was my first Korean mystery show. This is one that you can’t watch when you are distracted...you need to have your eyes on the screen at all times or you are going to miss something important. It was suspenseful and interesting. I’m not sure if it is one I will rewatch, but it is definitely worth the first time!

Vagabond (Netflix)

Summary: This is a newer addition to Netflix. Cha Dalgun is a stuntman that has taken in his nephew after he was abandoned by his mother. Their relationship becomes strained as his nephew begins to see how much Cha Dalgun hadn’t wanted a child before him and doesn’t have the finances to live a prosperous life. When his nephew dies in a tragic plane crash alongside the rest of his soccer team, we begin to see how much the boy meant to Cha Dalgun. When some video clips shared on the cloud make Dalgun suspect malicious intent in the plane crash, our story begins. He meets Go Haeri, a member of the NIS, when the bereaved families fly in to collect their deceased loved ones. A story of political corruption, big business, terrorism, doubt, and crime-fighting ensues. 

Why I liked it: This one isn’t completed on Netflix yet so I don’t know the ending, but it is definitely suspenseful and you find yourself trying to figure it all out and cheering on or booing at the characters. The characters of Cha Dalgun and Go Haeri both won my heart early on and now I’m hoping their ship sails! Each episode leaves you on the edge of you seat. 

Rookie Historian Goo Hae Ryung (Netflix)

Summary: Goo Hae Ryung is still single in her late twenties and is seen as a sort of misfit as she seeks knowledge rather than a husband. She becomes a female historian in the Joseon Dynasty. Prince Yirim has been living a life away from society, writing love stories that are popular but forbidden by the government. The two happen upon each other in a book store where she speaks poorly of his writing/genre. As they come to be familiar with each other through their positions, they work to uncover the secrets that the rulers would prefer to keep hidden. 

Why I liked it: The cast of characters is spectacular. While Hae Ryung and Yirim are the leads, there are so many supporting characters that catch your attention and win over your heart or make you absolutely hate them. They also aren’t all the boring, simple, support characters. They are so complex that this seems more like a slice of life piece rather than a drama. The storyline is interesting, especially to someone with little to no knowledge about the Joseon dynasty, Hae Ryung stays strong and independent while also showing her vulnerability. Yirim puts off a clueless aura but is really a strong character. Did I mention the characterization is amazing? 

A Few Honorable Mentions...

Something in the Rain (Netflix)

Memories of the Alhambra (Netflix)

When the Camellia Blooms (Netflix)

Descendants of the Sun (Hulu)

Thirty but Seventeen (Hulu)

What's Wrong with Secretary Kim (Hulu)

[aphroditeslesbian]

hi

I was also raised 7th day Adventist and I’m a closeted lesbian. I don’t hate my religion..because I personally didn’t have a bad experience with it in my childhood, but it clashes a lot with my beliefs and well parts of my identity. I’m feeling a bit helpless because this religion has been a big part of my life, a lot of strong women I look up to in my life are sda, and my local sda community is very wholesome. And by now you can sense my reluctance in letting it go. I’ve been coping by thinking I should find a gay-friendly sda church once I move out.. if I ever get married. What’s your journey been like? 🪴

Hey! I don't meet a lot of sda online, it's interesting to hear a different perspective. I'm gonna go into everything, bc my experiences with sda really shaped me, and yeah, it's been a wild, not so fun ride.

Basically I was baptized catholic as an infant, but my family isn't practicing catholic. My mom is very religious, and wanted me to have a good education... In Brazil, we have very poor public education in primary and secondary school, and the best schools are the private ones... Which are also religious schools. So I wound up studying in a sda school from kindergarten to highschool graduation.

So from a young age (4 yo) I was raised on my school's religious beliefs. I was really involved, and my childhood best friend was also sda, she lived a couple floors down from me and we'd hang out often, and her family would bring me to church on Saturdays (there was a sda church across the street from the apartments we lived in). I was the staple Christian child, I prayed every night and every morning, apart from all the prayer at school ofc. At 8yo they did a talk at school about the importance of baptism, and I asked my parents to allow me to be baptized as sda. My mom surprisingly didn't want me to be baptized again, not so young, but my dad said I should do what I wanted, so I was baptized again at the school's church. Literally the school had an auditorium for our weekly religion-related classes, which we called "chapel", and was basically like going to church – but mandatory, as it was during school time. This specific school also had a church built on the side, so yeah.

During my early childhood through preteen years I had no issues with the school's teachings and sda ideology. It was all I had ever known, my family encouraged religion and we'd also sometimes (rarely) go to catholic church. I honestly didn't even realize people could not believe in god until I was 12/13.

I had never really heard much about being gay, or being anti gay during primary school - I may have forgotten having ever heard it from teachers. I only heard about homophobia from peers, and so I knew that being gay was a bad, evil, gross thing.

When I was around 11/12 we moved to a smaller town, and I started at a smaller Adventist school. I was the only one in my small newly found friend group who was baptized, and moving was very traumatic for me, so I started becoming less active in church. I became severely depressed because of the move and other stuff at home, and turned to the internet for a distraction.

I first heard about atheism from a youtuber, and he was known for his controversial takes (he's pretty nasty, it's only gotten worse with time but anyway). I guess a mixture of depression, becoming a teen, having my rebellious phase, I started researching into it.

My religion teacher (we had "religion" classes, but they should really have been called "7th Day Adventism classes") was much harsher than the one I had at my first school. This was around the time that Twilight was a big deal, and I read those books sooo many times for comfort, I got into Harry Potter etc. Not long after I moved to this school, we had a religion class about how Harry Potter was inspired by the devil. My books were often confiscated during class, even if I had already finished my assignments and was reading quietly, even if they were just on my desk. Being super depressed and introverted, with very few friends, books were my refuge. Having the teachers look down on them and literally say they were devilish and evil really started to shift my view of the religion. I knew these were good books, I loved them. So how could they be evil?

I have a very strong memory of praying and praying once and begging Jesus and god to help me, to give me a sign, because I was terrified of losing my religion, of losing god. All I had learned my whole life was that god is good, god is love etc. How come god wasn't helping me, my family, through some of the worst times? How come I was alone?

At around 12/13 my cousin came out to me as bi, and soon after another cousin came out as gay. I barely fully understood what that meant, and the internet was again where I researched about it. I realized I liked girls at the time, but I never understood you could even be married to a woman, as a woman. Even though I knew I liked and was attracted to girls, I never let myself think too much on it. The school was pretty obvious about how marriage is between a man and a woman, our "sex talk" was a class with our religion teacher. Bio talk was split, the boys left the room so we could learn about female anatomy and stuff, and then the boys had the room, etc. Our religious teacher was very adamant about how one shouldn't have sex before marriage, and marriage was between a man and a woman so...

Honestly the basework they laid was to erase homosexuality. I didn't even grasp that I could be anything but attracted to girls, I didn't realize I could do anything about it.

And then in highschool, I guess bc we were old enough, they finally started being outspoken about their hatred of gay people. There would be snide comments from the Portuguese/Lit teacher, a disgusting talk from the History teacher about how gay men's sexual activity leads to anal incontinence, the Religion teacher saying it was wrong, comparing it to criminality, the school's vice principal giving us a lecture and making sure to hammer in the worst thing anyone could turn out to be was homosexual.

At this point I thought I was okay with my same sex attraction, I thought these things weren't getting under my skin. But then I learned about being trans, and I came to the conclusion that since I was into girls, I couldn't be a woman. I identified as trans from around 15-19. That was internalized misogyny and homophobia, that was me actually letting all the snide little comments settle deep in me, and shape who I was.

Anyway, at around 14 I was done. School was teaching us that bastard kids aren't blessed by god (me and my siblings are all "bastards" as my parents were never married). They told us couples who lived together and we're never married were not blessed by god, and implied they were bound to have issues for their sin.

I was a teenager living in a broken home, my father was emotionally abusive to me and my mother, and honestly at the end of the day I had to choose if I wanted to believe in a god who was supposedly love itself, yet didn't protect me and my young siblings and my mom... Or not believe in god at all.

Leaving the church and coming to terms with not believing in god was one of the toughest times in my life. My depression was in the gutter, I was self harming, I was struggling. I remember thinking of my cousins, whom I was very close with growing up, and knowing they were good people, so how could god not love then? I remember thinking of myself, of all I had done for the church, for god, and wondering how could god not accept me.

For me, the church was poison. I only saw hypocrisy, I saw people who judged each other, who cared more about their own concepts of right and wrong than being mindful of others. I saw my teachers who preached being kind, but ridiculed and laughed at other religions and those who believed them. When I was questioning religion, I always had sooo many questions for my religion teacher and so often she just told me that some questions were too big for us to understand, that only god could fully comprehend himself.

I'm proud to have come out the other side, but I won't lie. The community that church represents does seem so lovely and welcoming. I wanted to be a part of something, and church offered that.

But at the end of the day, there's no space for me, a lesbian, in there. They don't believe gay marriage is okay, they don't condone our "lifestyle". They think this is a choice we're making, and a bad one at that.

The childhood friend I mentioned earlier, who I used to go to church with, actually came out as a lesbian a couple years ago as well. Her sda family is giving her a really hard time. She's left the church, last I heard.

Honestly, my advice would be to find other community. Find community with other lesbians, people who can accept you unconditionally, who can offer you support without small print. That's what I'm trying to do.

I personally am against christianity for a lot of other reasons besides my very negative experiences. Maybe that's not you, and in that case I guess finding a church that is LGB friendly can be the answer. I couldn't judge anyone for choosing to stay, because like I said I really understand how nice it can feel, how it's like you belong in this community, how it can feel like the church is family.

But I really suggest deep soulsearching, because in my experience all they ever did for me was suck all my energy, all my devotion, and spit me out when I was never going to be the heterosexual good girl they expected me to be.

Sorry for the super long answer, I hope this helps some? If you wanna talk more in private you can hit me up through DMs, I'm very willing to listen and talk about it.

[jaarimasheng]

My Favorite Grey’s Anatomy Characters (FEMALE)

I vaguely remember hearing my mom talk about Grey’s Anatomy when I was young. I then thought about it as an “adult show” (not in the pg18 sense, but like the shows that adults watch), so when Netflix put the show up, I decided to give it a try. The least I expected out of this show was to get attached to the characters and the show itself. But then it gives me so many emotions every time I watch. I have cried, laughed and fell in love again and again. 11 seasons in, and here I am, dedicating a whole blog post (AND MORE TO COME) to the show.

Not only that but the show showcases some of the strongest female characters in television history. They featured women with tragic and very traumatic backstories, and turned them into very inspiring ones.    ⁽ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃᶦⁿˢ ˢᵖᵒᶦˡᵉʳˢ ᵉˢᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉᵖᶦˢᵒᵈᵉˢ ʸᵉᵗ⁾

1. 𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓖𝓻𝓮𝔂

ᵖᶦᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵖᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ

Who doesn’t love a heavily traumatized lead character? Merdith Grey is not only a badass for overcoming her traumas despite ignoring them for years, but she’s also a badass for taking them as her life lessons and learning from her past mistakes. 

Some of Meredith’s traumas:

She unknowingly has seen her mom with her lover (at such a young age)

Saw how ruined her mom got when both her marriage and the extra marital relationship didn’t work out

Suffered the consequences of her mom's ambitious nature

She had to live with her mom’s expectations and had to live in her shadow after following her footsteps

Became a mistress without knowing and was humiliated by Derek’s wife

Has seen her friends on the deathbed

Almost got herself killed a couple of times

Suffered from miscarriage

Got cheated on

Lost her sister on a plane crash she was also in

ABANDONMENT! Literally almost everyone she loved has moved away or died

And many more. But then, she kept going. She proved her mom wrong. She proved her traumas wrong. She went on to build a happy family despite coming from a very broken one. She has forgiven people who did her wrong so many times. She took on the career that had stolen her mom and her childhood away, (and she’s rocking it). She became the mom she never had to her kids and the wife her mom never was. She has done it all with her humility intact.  She’s literally an icon of being a bad bxtch: a badass, tough, and classy queen. 

“𝐹𝒶𝒾𝓁𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓉𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓊𝓃𝒶𝓋𝑜𝒾𝒹𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓁𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓃𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃. 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓊𝓅. 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓊𝓅. 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓊𝓅 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓉.”- Meredith Grey, Season 10 Episode 12

2. 𝓛𝓮𝔁𝓲𝓮 𝓖𝓻𝓮𝔂

ᵖᶦᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵖᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ

Being raised as an only child, I couldn’t really blame Meredith for reacting the way she did when she first met Lexie. Not to mention she started off as someone who **almost flirted with Derek when he was being unstable with Mer. She isn’t Meredith’s only sister, but they share the same dream and passion: medicine. She was known among the residents as “Lexipedia” because of her photographic memory. Not only am I very much attracted to intelligent characters, but Lexie was also quirky and funny. She easily forgave Meredith and tried her best to understand her. They were able to work past their issues and be the best sister duo in the show, and Derek’s best neuro student. She’s someone who’s filled with so much love, and therefore gave as much love as she had in her. 

At first, I couldn’t understand why she decided to let go of Mark instead of being open for discussion with him in regards to Mark’s children. they were literally perfect for each other and seeing her evade the topic on hand was somehow disappointing. But then, I remember her talking about being young and not being able to accept being a grandma. And it was something she had to accept even though Mark didn’t ask for her to. Because it was a part of who Mark was. And like she mentioned on the show, it’s not something someone so young can process right away. She needed time. Realizing how much she loved Mark and how ready she is to take it all in, she got brave and was ready to try again. I miss seeing her on the show. I wish her and Mark got their happy ending together.  “𝐼𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝑒𝓁𝓈𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂𝓈 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝓏𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒.” - Lexie Grey, Season 7 Episode 16

3. 𝓐𝓭𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓰𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓻𝔂

ᵖᶦᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵖᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ

Derek’s legal wife and someone who made sure Meredith knew where she should be standing especially in Derek Shepherd’s life. Other than getting tired of her husband’s passive aggressiveness especially after she cheated on him with his bestfriend, Grey’s Anatomy didn’t show us Addison’s back story much. However, her character made such an impact. She remained classy: she worked with her ex-husband and his “mistress”, and tried her hardest to keep things professional, acknowledged her mistakes which caused her marriage demise and gracefully moved on. I think I’ll be watching Private Practice as well because of her. 

“𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓊𝓅 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔.”- Addison Montgomery

4. 𝓒𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓪 𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓰

ᵖᶦᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵖᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ

We all need a bestfriend that brings us back to the ground when we’ve flown too high, who understands us more than we probably understand ourselves, who won’t judge us based on the decisions we make but won’t also hesitate to correct us when we’re taking the wrong way. We all need someone we can call our other half: our person. Meredith was lucky to have Cristina, and Cristina with Meredith. They started seeing each other as rivals, but grew to love each other more than like sisters. Both are strong, goal oriented, smart and gorgeous. Their opinions may clash at times, they’ve gone through countless misunderstandings, but things will always work out between them because they’re each other’s persons. She proved herself to be a main character on her own. Definitely not your “asian sidekick”.  To some, Cristina may come off as arrogant, obnoxious and a know-it-all. But she’s like that because she has always walked her talk. She knows her capabilities and she’ll stop at nothing for the sake of improvement and expanding her knowledge. She’s an independent woman who tends to forget how much of a bad bitch she is at times, but before things get out of hand she goes right back to her self. 

“𝐻𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝑒. 𝐵𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅𝓅𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒. 𝐵𝑒 𝒶 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓃𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒. 𝐵𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝒹𝒶𝓂𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈. 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑜 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒, 𝓃𝑜 𝒷𝓊𝒹𝒹𝒾𝑒𝓈. 𝒴𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑜𝓌𝓃. 𝐵𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑜𝓌𝓃.”- Cristina Yang, Season 4 Episode 15

“𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝑒𝒸𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹. 𝐻𝑒'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓎, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓃. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒.” - Cristina Yang, Season 10 Episode 24

5. 𝓐𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓵 𝓚𝓮𝓹𝓷𝓮𝓻

ᵖᶦᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵖᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ

She started off to be annoying, especially with the Mercy-Westers trying to “replace” our OG residents in Seattle Grace. With her unnecessarily high pitched voice and her obsession with faith, I did have a hard time watching her at first. Not to mention her clumsiness that almost cost the other residents’ job. However, not loving April Kepner is impossible. She grows on you, with her amazing character development.

She’s sweet, funny and kind. And she never forces her religion to other people, instead she inspires others using it. She proves that her charming appearance hides a charismatic strong and opinionated woman who never backs down especially when she knows she’s right. She never lets other people influence her decision and she sticks by with what she believes is the best. It’s also right to mention how well she manages the ER and how amazing of a trauma surgeon she is. She has her fair share of wrong decisions, a fair amount of people she has hurt, but that didn’t hinder her from giving the love inside of her around. She’s an amazing surgeon, an awesome friend and a very inspiring woman.

“𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝒻 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓍𝑒𝒹, 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃.”- April Kepner, Season 12 Episode 11

An honorable mention to this list: 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼

ᵖᶦᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵖᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ

Mousey! My favorite post plane crash intern. She was more of a background character, but she was too cute not to notice. Not to mention she’s always been quirky, weird and pure. She rarely spoke bad against her attendings and her co-intern and Derek Shepherd treasured her so much. She could’ve been an amazing neurosurgeon. 

AND THAT CONCLUDES this list (so far) I have 8 more seasons to catch up on and maybe someday, I’ll be able to edit and add more on to the list. Currently, Amelia and Jo are growing on me. Arizona has disappointed me so many times, Callie is starting to annoy me, Bailey is becoming less of a teacher like she’s always been and I’ve just started knowing Maggie Pierce, hence I didn’t include them. I can’t wait to write more about Grey’s. Weirdly enough, it has been my pandemic comfort show-- along with The Twilight Saga.

UPDATE ON THIS LIST: I have finally finished the 15 seasons in Netflix (still waiting for the last 2 seasons I AM BEGGING NETFLIX TO PLS UPLOAD IT NOW) and I have another addition on the list.

7. 𝓐𝓶𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓪 𝓢𝓱𝓮𝓹𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓭

ᵖᶦᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵖᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ

She’s known as the Shepherds’ trouble child, a black sheep, the disturbed daughter. However, I believe we can all agree that Amelia is an amazing woman who’s misunderstood because of her unresolved childhood trauma, abandonment and daddy issues. Aside from her wit and skills as a neurosurgeon, I think she’s a great teacher and an awesome friend. She wasn’t the best wife to Owen, but I think she knows that she did her best. I have yet to see how her story with Linc unfolds but let me just put how amazing she is out here.

She has the funniest dark jokes and seeing her around is just a joy. Her sisters are truly missing out by shutting her out.