#then again if you asked me to do another analysis i would probably sound even more insane and probably discredit my previous notes

[roxytonic]

while i'm here should i get a Tamagotchi? i'm a total zoomer but i love the aesthetic and conceptual simplicity of it

[gin-juice-tonic]

So, for Starters: Book Of Bill Spoilers warning. Another opinion from me below. (Here's my first opinion I shared, if you havent seen it) This new one is about the lost journal pages again, of course.

Originally, I wanted to make a super big crazy essay about all the reasons I think the journal pages in BOB (The Book of Bill’s given name) are fake, and show off my super-cool totally completely sound deductive reasoning techniques in the process.  

Unfortunately, knowing myself I’m not sure I’m actually capable of accomplishing such a feat. You all know how I tend to post things in parts, sometimes out of order, often never finished. However I would like to share something in particular that’s been eating at me that I’ve seen… partially discussed, but only partially. And certainly not the part that I would like to discuss. 

It’s about the rats.

You know, the rats.

I saw these rats being talked about since before I was even able to have a look at the book myself. 

But before I get further into it all, I would like to start off with a joke: 

Why did dead rats, eggnog, a land orca, shrimp colors, It’s a Small World After All, and an Anti-Cipherite Suit cross the road? 

Well, that’s easy. To get to the other side. 

Of the book, that is. 

If you’re anything like me, you probably skipped right to the journal pages upon contact with the book. And if you’re even MORE like me, you were probably left a little confounded by them. Not only did they seem… wrong somehow. But they also felt random. Full of odd choices of subject that didn’t make a lot of sense. Could these pages really have come from journal 3? If so, why do parts of them feel so… completely out of context? 

And this is where the rats come in. As I mentioned before, I saw many people discussing them. In particular, they were noting their connection to this passage from earlier in the book:

Many of the related discussions also felt odd to me. Though I lacked the knowledge to be able to articulate why at the time. UNTIL, I read the book for myself from start to finish. That's when I realized something:  This is not the only time something from earlier in the book connects back to the journal pages. In fact, it happens many, many times throughout the earlier passages. (Here is a small collection of them for your perusal.)

And then it started clicking into place. The reasons the pages felt like they were so abnormally out of context… is because they WERE lacking context!

Now, before you can finish saying “Gin, you’re an idiot.” I would like you to ponder these three questions: 

1) Why, if these pages were taken from Journal 3, should they require context from outside of it to be able to be completely understood?

2) Why is it that this context can be found in what Bill Cipher has been writing in the preceding passages up till now? 

3) If you put food in a mogwai’s mouth at midnight EST but drive it over the CST time zone line back to 11PM before it can swallow, will it still transform into a gremlin? 

Okay, you caught me, that third one is unrelated. But the first two I believe require further thinking. So let’s delve a little further into the idea. Consider this the real third question: 

3) Are we to seriously believe that these, the only pages of J3 still lost to us, just so happen to tie into the new topics from the rest of the Book of Bill over and over like this?  

And since you’ve done so well thinking thus far, I’ll ask a fourth question: 

4) Are you aware of the concepts of Watsonian and Doyalist analysis? 

Assuming you don’t and you won’t google it, I’ll skip to the important part. Watsonian analysis is to analyze a story from within it, as if you yourself were Watson making deductions in a Sherlock Holmes novel.  

Now, from a Watsonian point of view, what happens when we try to answer our earlier questions? Why should it be that the Book of Bill provides so many of these points of reference to the journal pages? 

One possible line of thought could be that Bill wrote the earlier passages of his book *around* the idea of what was contained in the pages, but I think this doesn’t work for a few reasons. For one thing, the purpose of the book is to get the reader to make a deal, not to take a whole novel to set the stage for a 3 day mini Ford adventure. For another, not all of what I described prior is really fit to be called “context”, is it? The rats, the “Small World” cassette, and the Bill-Suit are one thing, but Eggnog? Shrimp colors? Land Orcas? I certainly wouldn’t define them that way. If anything, they’d be better suited to being called “references”. And unlike the more contextual ideas, there’d be no real need for Bill to sneak mere references to the pages into his grand story.  And lastly, there are a great deal of Bill pages that have nothing to do with the content in the journal pages at all.

So what exactly am I trying to say here? 

If we do intend to think of the callbacks outlined above as references, the only logical conclusion within the story is that the journal pages themselves are referencing back to the Book of Bill, not the other way around.

But… how? And why? Something Ford has written in the 80’s shouldn't be able to reference something Bill is writing post-weirdmageddon certainly. 

That’s because “Ford” isn’t referencing it at all!

And as for why… Well, have you ever noticed when you're writing a story on the fly, things you wrote earlier all come crashing back to you as you try to wrap things up? I believe personally that the journal pages are nothing more than a strange endcap on Bill’s crazy train of thought! And the "references" are just fuel that further the pages creation. Almost as if, to quote someone much more knowledgeable than me on this subject…

In the end, all I've described above (as well as other aspects of the pages I've not mentioned here) leave me with the impression the pages are not real.

As I stated only a bit earlier, the idea that these pages, the only pages of J3 purported to be lost, should be so connected to the rest of the book is beyond coincidence to me. Not to mention that in order to take these pages as total truth, you must give credence to several other passages of Bill's book as well. And I'm not too keen on having to trust him that much.

To all who have read this far, even to those who may have scoffed at the ideas in here or think I've only written up nonsense. Thank you for reading and considering my thoughts.

I am not saying anyone must agree with me on this. I know some people have found the pages to be important and meaningful to them, and I do not wish to give the impression that I think my view is the end all be all correct one, or that I think lesser of those who believe in them. I only want to share my own opinions. And to anyone else who found the pages to feel "off" somehow, possibly validate their feelings too.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Catching up! So today we’re mostly having replies related to all the stuff we posted recently.

Starting with the most important question.

Anonymous asked:

Wait, Idia got called a brocon? When?

He did! Grim called him a brocon in 5-13 right after we saw Ortho for the first time :3 (timestamp on 5:42 just in case)

Anonymous asked:

How does that smoke beer donut taste?

(this is about this drawing)

Very smoky! And like something Gidel isn’t supposed to eat…

Anonymous asked:

I wanna see some of your traditional art

Actually, Anon, you’re looking at it…

The majority of things that we post daily was originally drawn traditionally, and then coloured digitally. I really want to do more art that is 100% traditional, but never get a chance to for a bunch of reasons :(

Anonymous asked:

I love your analysis holy cow! see its because of Book 5 that i cant stop seeing Vil and Rook as mom and dad. i love this ship mind you, (they are my comfort ship and it gives me life whenever you draw them you beautiful soul) but even if some didnt see them as a romantic couple--in my opinion they still have that VIBE you know? Like whenever they're there you just cant help but feel like BRO THEY WOULD BEAT UP YOUR BULLIES AND THEN GROUND YOU AND SEND YOU TO YOUR ROOM FOR FIGHTING IN THE FIRST PLACE LOL is it just a me feeling?

(this is related to this post)

Thank you for your kind words, Anon! I am very happy you enjoyed the analysis and that you like my RookVil art <3

Yeah, I think these two being very parental is pretty obvious and pretty intentional! All jokes aside, Pomefiore trio really feels like it was written in a way that they would read as a family. We don’t usually like this trope because characters playing house could get pretty boring, and a lot of family-related tropes don’t resonate with us at all. So I am surprised to this day that we love Pomefiore’s vibes so much. I’m guessing that it’s because of how unusual of a family they are, how Epel actually fights with Vil a lot, and how he grows from being a little brat to being a little brat that is eager to grow and excited to show his senpais his new cool magic tricks, while they tease him but still are very proud and excited for him. Like, they’re strict and would smack him (well, Vil would) but they also want him to grow. Woah, that sounds way too wholesome ew lol

Anyways! Even if we exclude Epel, and this is another thing I’ve talked about a lot, I genuinely feel like Rook and Vil were intentionally written as a couple that has been together for quite some time, at least coding-wise. There are just too many tropes and situations that they have that are usually used for couples… Alright I’ll stop myself or I’ll rant about them again even though I just did a couple of weeks ago.

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

I just love baby Vil so much, makes me wonder what happened

(this is about this drawing)

Adults with shitty opinions + kids that can’t separate reality from fiction happened… truly, two of the worst things that could happen to a possible friendship between actors.

A couple of asks about this drawing:

Anonymous asked:

Oh oh! I saw! Che'nya art! We (smiley kitty fans) are starving! Thank you for the food! It is delicious! May we have another plate, please?

Poor smiley kitty fans! :( I am so sorry you’re starving! Please enjoy your food.

Unfortunately I don’t have any more smiley catfood for you…….. yet.

Anonymous asked:

*see Chenya *

*starts biting at the bars of my containment*

Better question for him..... What that tongue do??? 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

What that tongue doesn’t do, Anon? Wink

Anonymous asked:

Question. How much of Riddle's body do you think Che'nya would lick to clean him?

In theory, he’d probably get bored pretty quickly, but I kind of want him to just keep licking… Riddle thought it would be over 15 minutes ago, but Che’nya’s still licking… The moment he would be done with his face, ears and head (cat saliva in Riddle’s hair…), Riddle would realise that Che’nya is determined to lick him all over. Time to call Trey…

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

Riddle gets licked my Chenya often in my lil delulu ass world

Sometimes Che’nya randomly appears, licks his cheek and disappears again.

Anonymous asked:

Bro I gotta know, what do the tweel's dick(s) look like on their merform? I was scrolling on ur bluesky and saw this one with jade and idia and something between idia's legs and I was like "is that his dick?" If so DAYUM! May that bussy rest in peace

Love your art and speedpaints btw💗

Thank you for enjoying my art and especially my speedpaints! I am very happy to hear that <3

Hehe I’m glad you liked that one! I had a lot of fun with that piece.

I feel like I draw merpeen differently every single time lol but I love the design we came up with for that Jade/Idia drawing, and in fact I do have a post in which I talk about how it probably works! There aren’t any pictures there, but there are some interesting thoughts…

[merakiui]

i’m still thinking about the tag in the co-writing ask a whole few days later and MERA 🥲 saying it would be an honor to exchange ideas is crazy bc it’s such a honor to even be on that list of people you’d hypothetically co-write something with! i adore your work to the fullest and you always release such BANGERS for writing!

(i really also appreciated hearing your thoughts on how you structure your work, your progress with first drafts, and what your favorite line is!! so exciting to peek into the mind of another writer!!)

anyways, i know it was probably just a tag that meant nothing to answer a question, but it really meant a lot! also fellow eel appreciator so real ‼️ i’m hella looking forward to your next jade leech work that you mention, something with a princess and childhood friends i believe,, i’ll be in your comments ofc tearing it up with analysis!

also i studied arnolfini painting for a class too so i’m really happy to know someone else got the reference <3!

also never got co-wrote or exchanged ideas before but u know my DMs if ure serious! or don’t! i hate to sound pushy

RE-L!! HELLO!!! ⸜(｡ ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

I'm honored that you consider it an honor omg!!! Thank you for such kind words and praise. 🥺 you're too sweet,,, I'm glad my thoughts and writings are enjoyable and interesting to read!

I truly do mean that tag from the bottom of my heart! It would be a joy to co-write or discuss ideas! Your thoughts and ideas are always fascinating (your swimsuit thoughts were so *chef's kiss*). I'm just much too shy to reach out randomly and I always worry it will be bad manners to just burst into private messages so suddenly. ;;;;; but it's a relief to know you would like to do so!!!

ALSO AAAAA!!!! Thank you so so much for your anticipation for My Sweet Monster (my next Jade fic hehe)!!!! I hope to write it after I finish this Floyd fic I'm currently working on. Royalty aus with childhood friends is a delicious combination. Also,,,,, butler Jade pining for the princess he serves........ >:) I look forward to your (as always) banger analysis once that fic is published!

I had to read the title again because it caught me by surprise. I thought, Arnolfini Portrait? As in, the Arnolfini Portrait?!?!?! It's a very pleasant surprise to see a reference to that painting!!

[fluffystuffies]

Hoping the Old Still Works with the New [TSAMS]

Summary: With everything that's been happening, Moon is understandably stressed and angry. So Sun suggests something that he used to do with the old Moon as a way to calm him down. It...well, it works, though with MUCH different reactions than the old Moon would've had (obviously).

Words: 4378

hello-I come to bring you another tsams tkl fic!! this time with the classic brothers! had this idea for a while after i saw the hcs Sunset sent me hsfjhsf (hi by the way Sunset! :D) this one's a little shorter than I'm used to, but hope it's still good!

anyways, enjoy!

-------

It was no secret to anyone around him that Moon was stressed. Stressed, irritated, and tired would all be accurate descriptions of him at the current moment.

Stressed due to the paranoia that another villain would come and kidnap one of his family members, irritated that there were still villains around to kidnap his family members, and tired because he had been focusing so much energy on keeping his family safe that he hadn’t had the chance to sleep. 

So yeah. Maybe he wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around at the moment. And maybe he was about ready to tear the hat from his head and rip it apart from pure frustration. Buuut then he’d have to ask someone to fix it and he didn’t want to bother Earth (or Solar, since he heard that the sun-based animatronic had recently picked up sewing). Everyone already had too much going on and he didn’t want to cause such a trivial problem.

Moon finally turned off the camera footage that he had been playing on loop in his head for some kind of hint as to how Eclipse did…anything! Everything that surrounded the supposed-to-be-dead villain was shrouded in a mystery that he was slowly losing patience in solving.

He sighed roughly from his place at the plugin area. He had kept himself plugged in while he was searching the footage so he wouldn’t accidentally bring himself down to a dangerously low percentage (he honestly wished Solar did the same sometimes). He then unplugged himself and stepped away from the wall, stumbling a little.

God, he was tired.

Despite the fact that the action was pointless for a robot, Moon yawned and stretched slightly. He blamed that odd quirk he had on the fact that he was originally the nighttime attendant and probably had some weird ‘sleepytime’ programs built into him. Though, if he was reset then wouldn’t that have reset as well? No, then that would mean that he wouldn’t have been able to speak when he ‘woke up’.

Moon groaned loudly and pressed his palms into his eyes. He was definitely spending too much time on analysis. Now he was analyzing the programming he should already have an adept understanding of.

He should probably sleep.

But he had to keep looking.

But he was tiiireddd.

Both his stress and his exhaustion were battling over his choices for a good few seconds before the war ended up brewing even more frustration. And he couldn’t just transfer his work-in-progress to Solar, not since he became more aware of just how much his newly adopted family member had been putting on himself. Besides, it wasn’t like Moon had much ‘progress’ to begin with.

Still, he felt like he had to do something. Even if he also felt like curling up on the floor right then and there and passing out. Even if that also wouldn’t work due to the amount of stress and anxiety and anger brewing up in his chest.

Moon groaned again, loud enough to where it bordered on a scream. He didn’t know what to do.

“Uh-”

Moon quickly turned around to face the entrance of the room.

Sun was there, hands held up with his fingers curled slightly inwards as if to…well, Moon didn’t know what exactly, but it was a motion reminiscent of how one would look when trying to calm a wild animal. And–oh. Right. Moon probably sounded pretty angry there. Which…wasn’t inaccurate, to be fair.

Still, this was his brother. And Sun had already talked to him a couple times on where to direct his anger. And the last person Moon wanted to direct anger at was his twin. 

So he just inhaled and exhaled once (simulated, of course), hoping that would release some of the tension in his body. “Hi,” he greeted simply, still sounding tense. So the breathing thing didn’t work. Great.

“Hey,” Sun greeted back, hesitant as he usually would be when Moon was angry. “Are you…uh…are you okay?”

Do not be sarcastic. Do NOT be sarcastic. Do not snap. Do not snap. This is SUN. You promised you wouldn’t snap at him again. Moon took another deep ‘breath’. “No. I’m not. I am tired and I am stressed.”

“Yeah…I think we’re all a little…that,” Sun responded, hesitant still. “With everything that’s been going on, it’d be…kind of hard not to be that.”

“Yeah,” Moon replied shortly. He sighed and held a hand to his face. “Did you need something?” He honestly hoped the other didn’t. He didn’t know if he could handle any extended interaction.

“Uh, well…we do kinda have to record a video…” Sun said quietly (or as quietly as he could).

Moon couldn’t stop the loud, aggravated groan that escaped him at that. It wasn’t that he disliked playing games with his brother or anything. He just did not have the patience to record a video while remaining relatively calm. “Can’t we just…put out a pre-recorded one? Or–I don’t know–do one of those compilation videos?” he asked in a strained voice.

“Well, uh…I think we still have the rest of our Help Wanted playthrough? If you’d…rather just give that to our editor…” Sun told him, fidgeting with his hands.

“Please,” Moon practically growled out. “Because I really don’t think I can record today.”

“Yeahhh…I can-I can tell,” Sun commented, sounding more like acknowledgement than anything else. “And uh…what about you?” he asked suddenly.

“What about me?” Moon questioned, blinking slowly.

“Did uh–did you need anything?”

“A nap. And a break. Either one of those would be fucking lovely,” Moon responded honestly.

“Yeah…” Sun agreed. “Uh-” he started as if to say something, then abruptly cut himself off.

“What. What is it?” Moon asked roughly, then made a sound like he was sucking in air through his teeth. “Sorry. What is it?” he repeated a little more softly.

Sun hesitated before seemingly trying to continue what he was originally going to say. “I mean, I’m pretty sure a nap wouldn’t hurt? I-I mean, I know you have…stuff to do, but-uh…” He rubbed the back of his faceplate. He seemed to have more he wanted to say but for the moment, he wasn’t speaking.

So Moon decided to speak, starting with a sigh. “I don’t think I even can take a nap right now. I am stressed, Sun. Really. Fucking. Stressed.”

“I know that!” Sun snapped slightly, holding up his hands again. “I just–okay. I…I have an idea to…I guess help both of us with that? Kinda? Mainly just you…” he mumbled. “I don’t exactly know if it’ll work though…”

“Brother, listen,” Moon said as he walked over to his twin to place both hands on the other’s shoulders. “I am open to anything at this point.” Okay, maybe he really wanted a fucking break. “At this point, I think it would be better anyway if I took a break,” he admitted, even if several other parts of him screamed to get back to work.

“Right…okay,” Sun mumbled, backing away slightly so Moon would remove his hands. “Uh…you wanna do it here or…?” He looked around the dilapidated room.

“Depends on what it is,” Moon responded, letting his arms drop to his sides. “Is it something we need to sit down for?”

“Kinda? Yeah, actually…” Sun told him, folding his hands over each other. “Is uh, is that room still…good?” He pointed at the curtained area that covered the tunnel leading to Moon’s old room.

“I think so. Solar says he sleeps in there. Though–” Moon sighed. “Chances are he’s not in there. It’s not like it’s anyone’s room anymore anyways.” He wasn’t even sure what it looked like anymore. “Whatever. It should be fine.”

“Right. Uh, let’s go in there then. And hope it has a mattress or something.”

“It should.”

With that exchange of words, Moon walked over to the curtain and pulled it back to reveal the tunnel hiding behind it. Then he gestured for his brother to enter, which he did, followed by the former nighttime attendant.

The inside of the room…actually hadn’t changed much. It was surprisingly still considerably lit and the mattress, among other softer items, were still in decent condition. 

“Huh. I was…honestly expecting this to be a lot more destroyed,” Sun commented.

“Mhm,” Moon hummed shortly, sitting down on the mattress without much thought. It didn’t even creak. “So…are you gonna do some kind of hypnosis or something? Did Earth teach you anything?”

“Uh, no, not really. You’re the one who has the hypnosis feature anyways…” Sun admitted, following his brother in sitting down.

He did? “I do?” Moon questioned, dropping his annoyed tone for the first time to make way for a genuinely confused one.

“Yeah? You didn’t-did you not know you have that???” Sun asked incredulously, moving his head in a way that suggested he would be emoting utter bafflement if he could.

“No???” Moon responded in a question. “I have a hypnosis feature???”

“Yes??? How else do you think you were supposed to get some kids to sleep?” Sun asked him as if that was a normal thing to say.

Moon shook his head slightly. “Wow. Okay. Fazbear really does not like children.”

“I don’t know what you were expecting from a company that puts caffeine into children’s candy,” Sun said blankly.

“No, that’s fair.” Honestly, Moon was wondering why he was even surprised in the first place.

“I’m also surprised you didn’t know about that sooner.”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, things have been a liiittle hectic lately.” Ah, there was the anger and stress.

“Right…” Sun paused before shaking his head. “Anyway, uh…right. The thing. Um, so…this is something I used to do with…the old you.” Moon could feel both of them get a little more tense from the mention of the previous Moon. “Not that I’m-! I’m not trying to say that this’ll work on you because you’re…Moon, I just-I don’t know. I thought that it could work? Maybe? It helped with…the old Moon when he was stressed…”

Moon could see that his brother was starting to get a little frantic in his ramblings, so he pushed down his annoyance and gently placed his hand on the other’s shoulder. “Sun. Hey.” He waited until his twin looked up at him. “I said I was open to anything and I still am. So. Go ahead. Besides, if it could calm down that prick, then who knows? Maybe it’ll work.” He tried to be lighthearted in his words, but unfortunately, annoyance and lighthearted didn’t go well together. He just hoped Sun understood.

Sun hesitated then sighed and held out a hand. “Alright…okay, uh, can you give me your hand?” he asked suddenly.

Moon decided not to question the strange request too much. He was still gonna question it though. “Okay…wwwhyyy?” He gently placed his hand on his brother’s outstretched one, removing his other hand and letting it sit on the mattress.

Sun then turned over Moon’s hand so his palm was facing upwards. “Well, when my-the-the other Moon was stressed, sometimes he would…uh, he would ask me to trace around on his palms. He said it was calming so…maybe it’ll work for you?”

And Moon…had no idea that was even a thing with the old Moon. He had assumed that not everything was recorded and uploaded to the channel, so he wasn’t expecting to view every little detail. But he would have expected maybe a small implication or mention–actually, never mind. With how closed-off the old Moon was, he probably shouldn’t have expected something this affectionate to have any sort of mention if the old him could help it.

“Uh…y’know what? Sure.” Plus, the confusion was helping a little already. “Go ahead.”

“Alright.”

Then Sun started gently tracing a finger around on Moon’s palm, just as he said, starting in the center and creating a soft, spiraling motion.

It would’ve been nice (and it…well, it was), however, Moon didn’t account for the sudden ticklish sensation he would be experiencing. He gave a full-body flinch, holding back a barrage of raspy giggles that threatened to escape. “I-It t-” he tried to say, only to hold onto his metaphorical breath when Sun smoothly ran his finger around to trace a single line across the center of his palm.

“What?” Sun asked, not pausing in his tracing motions.

Moon tried speaking again, squirming slightly and feeling his fingers twitch as Sun began running his finger back and forth in that same line as if it were an idle motion. “Itststststs-” He held a hand over his smile even though that did absolutely nothing to muffle anything as he let out a sprinkler-like laugh.

Even though Sun had definitely noticed the action was tickling Moon by this point, he still didn’t stop. “What? What is it?” While his tone sounded fairly concerned, it was clear from the way he curled his finger to scritch lightly at the center of Moon’s palm that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Iihihihit tiHIHIHIckles!” Moon was finally able to get out, turning his head slightly and trying to hide as much of his face as possible with his hand.

“Oh wow. Really? I had no idea!” Sun exclaimed in a show of over-exaggeration and it was like his usual stutter-filled mannerisms had completely vanished.

“Yeheheah yohohohou dihihHIHID!” Moon tried to sound accusatory but the spiked giggles did not help convey that tone for him at all. And then Sun started gently dragging four of his fingers in individual, circular strokes across the whole of his palm. Then it was like Moon couldn’t stop the giggles from leaving his voicebox. “Yohohohou knohohohohow whaHAHAHAt yohohou’re dohohoing!”

“Hm, no, I don’t think I do. Would you mind telling me, dear brother? That should be easy for you,” Sun teased while giving off an air of faux casualness. Though the complete casualness was practically lost as he kept up his tickling motions.

“YohohoHOHOHOU-” Moon tried to say, laughter overtaking the insult he had on his metaphorical tongue. Then he almost ripped his hand away when Sun switched back to scritching at his palm, taking on more of a scribbling technique, keeping his fingers’ range short but rapid in motion. Moon could tell Sun definitely had a bit of experience with this because it tickled like all hell. He even started kicking his feet slightly while the rest of him started squirming more violently. “NAHAHAHAHAHA!! SUHUHUHUN!!” How the FUCK did this tickle so much??? He could feel his face being exposed once more as his body movements became more uncontrolled.

“Yes? That’s my name, dear brother,” Sun responded simply. If he could smile any wider, Moon was positive that smile would’ve taken up his brother’s whole face. “Hmmm, you still haven’t told me what I’m doing. You’ve only said my name and nothing else!” 

“ThahahaHAHAHAT’S BECAHAHAHAUSE YOHOHOHOU’RE TIHIHIHIHICKLING ME!! AND YOHOHOU KNOHOHOHOW IHIHIHIT!!” Moon finally forced out before his laughter could completely take over his vocabulary. Even though he wasn’t embarrassed by the concept itself, it was still flustering to say the action out loud. So once again, he turned his body and head away as much as he could while holding a hand over his face.

“Oh! Wow! That must’ve been why you said you were being tickled! It was me all along!” Sun exclaimed as though a big revelation had been placed upon him. And while he did, he changed tactics once more to lightly tracing the outer area of Moon’s palm with a single finger, which somehow tickled more. 

“YEHEHEHEHES! Of cohohohohourse ihihIHIHIT WAS YOHOHOHOU!” Moon responded, the volume of his laughter going up and down depending on what part of his palm Sun was tickling. Giggles spilled out from his voice box when Sun neared the center of his palm and louder laughs were earned when the gentle, tracing motions traveled to the ‘outer rim’ of his hand. “Dohohohon’t plahahahay duhuhuhuHUHUMB!!”

Sun gasped like he had been personally insulted. “Well! How was I supposed to know I was tickling you when you weren’t telling me? Sounds like a you problem, brother of mine.”

“Dohohon’t puhuhuhut the blahahahame on mEHEHEHE!! Thihihis wahahahahas yohohohour ideheHEHEHEhea!” Moon accused–or tried to. Again, the constant shift of giggles to louder laughter made it very hard to convey any other tone besides playfulness or flusteredness. It also didn’t help that Sun had realized this little fact of him having more ticklish parts of his palm and began making squiggly lines all around his palm, getting both the milder and more ticklish spots all at once.

“Well, yes. Yes, it was. Buuut I also don’t hear you telling me to stop, sooo-” Sun made a cocky lip-smacking sound. “Y’know, I guess I have to continue,” he continued to sass his brother. “Since you seem to like this so much.”

“I dihihihihihidn’t sahahahahay thAHAHAHAT!” Moon protested immediately, squirming just a little too much to make it comfortable for anyone to hold onto such a small part of him. It was then that he felt his brother shift to hold his arm under his own, leaving it at the mercy of Sun’s continuous tickling. “Waihehehehehehe-”

“Whaaat? You were moving around too much!” Sun defended, somehow sounding even more smug. “I had to get this part of you to sit still somehow.”

Moon felt the squiggly motions continue and he felt like his body was copying the actions his hand was being subject to. How was it that such a small part of him could tickle so much and seem so easy to pull away but make him feel so unable to do anything??? “Ihehehehehe-nahaHAHAHAHA!!”

“I must say, brother, I quite like this little volume-adjusting spot you have! Look, I can just-” Sun stopped the indecisive squiggles and started swirling a cyclone in the middle of his brother’s palm.

“YOHOhohohou lihihihihittle-hehehehahahaha…!” Just like that, the louder laughs that Moon had been producing were reduced to giggling. He didn’t even know what he was saying at that point.

“And you get muuuch quieter! And then if I can’t hear you, I can just do this!” Sun continued as if he wasn’t reducing his twin to a wiggly string of laughter. As he spoke the last few words, he smoothly transitioned his finger to tracing a larger circle around the outside of Moon’s palm.

“NeheheHAHAHAHA!! SUHUHUHUHUN!!” Despite the gentler tickling, Moon felt his giggling spike back up to more frantic peals of laughter, kicking his legs out from the sides of his brother and messing up the blanket that had been laid out on the mattress.

“See! Prrret-ty cool little feature,” Sun commented casually. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to react like this, so I’d say this is a pleasant surprise.”

Moon couldn’t say he expected this either. But he didn’t have anything left to offer but more laughter, quieting down as Sun returned to tickling the center of his palm. “Mmkekekekekehehehe…” He felt something more akin to a snicker interrupt his giggling, which just amused him and added an extra kick to his laughter.

“Did you just unironically do the ‘kekeke’ thing???” Sun questioned, sounding both flabbergasted and amused at the same time, letting out a small wheeze as he spoke.

“I cahahahahan’t cohohohohontrol thahahahahat…shUHUHUHUT UHUHUP!!” Moon suddenly burst out as the gentle tickling slowly traveled to the more sensitive parts of his hand. But also, his brother was laughing at him now! “StahahaHAHAHAP LAHAHAHAUGHING!”

“I dohohon’t think you’re in any position to tell me that, brother,” Sun responded, his own laughter peeking through slightly.

“Oh, shuhuhuhuhut aHAHAHAP!” Moon retorted, not that it had much effect. He felt his body start shaking a little more violently as it was over taken with frantic laughter and loss of control. He was practically curled up at this point with the squirming energy that had overcome his body now transferring solely to his kicking legs.

Eventually, Moon just…dropped the hand covering his face and bonked his head on his brother’s back. But he felt like he had to do something with his extra hand so without thinking, he just wrapped his free arm over his brother’s stomach region. Then he was just giggling into Sun’s back where his shoulder blades would be, shaking from laughter.

Then gradually, he felt Sun’s finger slow on his hand until it was completely still. “...uh, Moon?” he suddenly asked, sounding much less teasy than before.

“Whahahahat…?” Moon giggled out, still feeling the ghost tickles dancing over his palm.

“...do you need me to stop?” Sun questioned, slowly rubbing his own palm over his brother’s, perhaps to alleviate the remaining ticklish feeling.

Moon felt the shaking gradually cease alongside his giggles until he just had his face calmly shoved into Sun’s back while he tried to think up a response. He felt…tired, but a much better tired than he was feeling before. And…he felt…calmer. A lot calmer, actually.

…okay, maybe the palm thing had helped. Quite a bit.

But even so…

Moon grumbled into his twin’s back. “...can you keep going?” he asked, almost wanting to deafen his auditory units just so he couldn’t hear the response. He wasn’t sure what that would do, but he just knew he wanted to hide in general.

…he also realized that he was still hugging his brother, who wasn’t the biggest ball of affection, to be clear. So he straightened his back and lifted his head, unwrapping his arm from around Sun’s stomach and letting it lie by his side. “Sorry…”

Sun scooted forward a little, letting go of the former nighttime attendant’s hand momentarily to turn himself around. “It’s fine. But…you wanted me to keep going?” he asked again, holding his brother’s hand and positioning his own hand over it in a claw-like manner, teetering on the edge of being playful once again.

Moon grumbled again, pulling his nightcap over his face then wondering why he didn’t do that in the first place. It covered a lot more. “...yeah,” he confirmed. “But-!” His brother stopped his hand from ascending on the lunar-themed animatronic’s still-senstitive palm. “Somewhere else…? And not for too long. ‘M tired…” God, this was flustering.

“Gotcha,” Sun responded, releasing his twin’s hand and putting a hand to his chin as if he were inspecting a ware in a store. “Hmmm, now where-oh-where would my dearest brother like to be tickled next?...”

Moon groaned and used both hands to pull his nightcap completely over his face. “Oh, don’t say it like that, you little-”

“You asked for this!” Sun protested.

“After you suggested it!” Moon responded, lifting his cap to glare at his brother, though with no heat whatsoever.

“And you’re the one who wanted me to continue!”

And…Moon had no response to that, crossing his arms and grumpily looking away. He wished he could pout, but alas.

“Now. Hmmm…” Sun hummed, then raised his hand to his twin’s face. “I think I know the perfect spot! You said you were tired, after all…”

Oh. Wait. “Suhuhuhuhun-mehehehehehe…” Moon felt fingers gently drag along his crescent, wiggling slightly and swirling at random intervals. “Whihihihihy-ehehehe-” he giggled out, lowering his head and attempting to scrunch up his nonexistence shoulders. Neither of which helped alleviate the sensation.

“You said you were tired! And we both know this helps,” Sun replied simply, stopping his tickling for a moment so he could move to Moon’s side. Then he went right back to it, tapping his fingers lightly against his brother’s chin and adding some scribbling into the mix to restart the giggles.

“Thahahahat dohohohoesn’t mahahakehehehe-” Moon stopped to lightly shake his head, tightening his crossed arms and curling up slightly. “-ihihihit any lehehehess embahahaharassihihing…”

“Oh, I know that,” Sun replied immediately, sounding every bit smug about embarrassing his brother.

“Fuhuhuhuck yohohohou…” Moon tried to instinctually move his head away, but his twin’s fingers continued to follow him, so that was pointless. 

Sun didn’t pause once in his motions, but Moon flinched when he felt his brother’s other hand graze over his back. “GeheheHEHE-Suhuhuhun nohohoho…”

“Y’know, I could be incredibly mean to you right now, but I’m not going to. Aren’t I a great brother, Moon?” Oh, Moon could hear the smug grin in Sun’s voice.

“Yohohou suhuhuhuck…” Despite the threat of one of his worst spots being targeted, Moon still decided to be sassy in return. He knew Sun was just bluffing anyway.

Moon felt Sun continue lightly tickling his crescent, relaxing him further. Then a loud guffaw of laughter left him when he felt fingers quickly scribble at his back, then leave a moment later. “SUHUHUN!!”

“Like I said, I could be mean, Moon,” Sun reiterated his statement. “...but! I’m not going to. Because I’m nice.”

“Agahehehein, fuhuhuhuck yohohou…” Moon repeated boldly, giggling increasing directly after when Sun began rapidly scribbling at his chin, making him throw his head around to try and escape the feeling. 

“Screw you too.”

Then it was like the leak in Moon’s bag of energy enlarged and was now draining even quicker, because it wasn’t long until he felt his arms slowly uncross and his whole body start metaphorically melting. Then he fell backwards onto the mattress, so quickly that Sun didn’t have time to follow with his tickle attack.

“...Moon?” Sun asked, leaning over his brother and looking at his face.

Moon was still giggling slightly, but now his eyes were closed and it looked like he was veering closer and closer to the sleep he had so desperately craved earlier. It wasn’t long until the giggles peetered off into snoring.

Sun blinked. Well. That was fast.

Even though he was sure that Moon would not be waking up anytime soon, Sun slowly started moving to leave the room and let his brother sleep.

Then stopped when he felt something on his arm. Or rather, something around his arm.

He looked down at his arm to see his brother had…basically hugged it to his face and was using it as a fucking teddy bear.

Sun groaned as quietly as he could. Then paused and sighed, laying down next to his brother, turning his arm so the other could still hug it.

He was…most likely not going to go to sleep as quickly as Moon.

But…he felt a little calmer now at least.

[petrichormore]

So about 4halo “dying…”

I’m watching the clip where Forever shows Baghera the book and supposedly “friendzones” Bad because I didn’t actually see the full thing and… why did people think the ship is dead? (I know Forever apparently revived it hours later but bear with me).

Because from where I’m standing, it’s perfectly fine? It’s been more dead in the past. So let’s break the scene down:

(Scene Analysis under cut - I felt like I was watching something straight out of a romcom movie. Also the following is about the CHARACTERS)

So. Forever shows Baghera the book and Baghera asks if he feels the same way. Forever says, “There’s a problem, Baghera - I love him back. (Pause) I love him back, but as a friend.”

Baghera goes “really?” because she’s skeptical and Forever claims that his “heart can’t take it anymore.” (Obviously in reference to Philza breaking it.) He then goes on to say that “After what happened to Philza, I think [thought] I had enough of it.”

I’d like to pause here to point out that at no point in this conversation does Forever sound confident in what he’s saying - he’s uncharacteristically shaken and unsure throughout. He uses phrases like “I thought” and “I’m trying” instead of “I know” and “I am” which imply uncertainty. He phrases his statements like questions, as though he doesn’t know what’s going on in his own mind.

Anyway, Forever says he likes Bad “as a friend” but his reasoning is literally just “I’m not ready for this right now” which… makes no sense to say if the first statement is true. If you aren’t interested in someone, you probably don’t justify by claiming you aren’t ready - because it’s just a fact relating to the other person. Saying “Oh there’s a big problem - I like this person as a friend because my heart can’t take the pain of heartbreak anymore!” Like. That doesn’t really make sense, does it?

He also tries to bring up a conversation dramatrio had a while back about how friendship is better (based, btw) - but to me it honestly just sounds as though he’s trying to convince himself rather than making a statement. Again, he sounds very confused. In response, Baghera points out that “not everyone is happy” with just friendship.

Forever also seems to be just generally confused with Bad’s behavior, as he sees it as uncharacteristic (which it is) and therefore disingenuous. This actually seems to be the main source of distress for him: whether or not Bad actually loves him. He talks to Baghera about how he doesn’t even know if it’s real because it’s so unlike Bad - Baghera agrees that it’s strange coming from Bad, but she believes Richarlyson when he says the book is genuine. Forever doesn’t, and later on in the stream he apparently reveals that he doesn’t understand how Bad could love him in a romantic sense and doesn’t want to be drawn in to something that might not be real? (Maybe???) As Forever is still streaming, I can’t go over it but I will when I can. Either way, this doesn’t seem like the type of worry a person who doesn’t reciprocate any romantic feelings would have? Like cool story bro but this really shouldn’t be relevant if your only feelings are platonic?

And Baghera? Baghera literally notices this! She sees Forever’s indecisiveness and says “Okay, but if you don’t like him like that, well, it’s not a question, you know?” She calls him out on it directly.

And Forever doesn’t acknowledge it at all. He just moves on and says that if Bad had approached him when he first joined, he would’ve been delighted to add another boyfriend in alongside Philza [Specifically, he brings up a song about Snow White and the phrase ‘Why have just one when I could have seven?] This, while funny as hell, has nothing to do with the conversation and it honestly comes across as Forever trying to examine his own feelings and failing miserably.

Baghera asks “So you’re sure you don’t want anything to happen with Bebou?”

Forever responds “yeah” and then immediately follows it up with “The problem is that after what happened, I’m really…” So ‘yeah’ is not an actual answer here, just a transitional word. (And again, notice the strange justification. The problem apparently not a lack of romantic attraction?)

Baghera follows that up by asking if Forever doesn’t want a relationship with Bad because he has been hurt by his previous ‘relationship’, or because he has no romantic interest in Bad specifically. Forever… doesn’t answer. He says, “Yeah, that’s a good question because I don’t even know if he likes me like that, or if he just loves me as a friend.” Once again, ‘yeah’ is not an answer, just a transition. Congratulations, Forever, you specified exactly nothing.

And thennnnn Forever is back to being worried over whether or not Bad likes him or like-likes him (it’s like they’re all gossiping 10 year olds hehe). He’s scared to ask him directly because he doesn’t want to “hurt him” (by ‘him’, I mean BBH) but it really just sounds like he’s a goddamn coward (affectionate) and is using that as an excuse. Especially since he phrases it like a question.

Baghera decides to take pity on him and offers to sneakily question Bad about it and then report back, which Forever immediately agrees to (it’s the most enthusiastic he sounds during the entire conversation). Forever than says that he really wants to “know what is happening” and to “take care of Badboy because he’s really important to me” (?? We all know, Forever, but okay cool I guess?? /j)

He finishes by reasserting (to himself, mostly) that he doesn’t want a relationship specifically because he’s trying to focus on his career, family, and friends (and because Philza broke his heart). He never says that he has no romantic interest in Bad besides the very first “as a friend” comment, and, in fact, somehow avoids saying it even when Baghera asks him directly to his face!

He honestly gives every reason for not wanting to be in a relationship except for “I’m not interested in the other person.” Like that’s the one thing he doesn’t say.

So. Take that however you will.

[kriscommitscrimes]

this is genuinely the most insane rant ive ever concocted

[ID 1: A screenshot that reads; 'I'm on board with people who say Kris is A knight, not THE knight. Making them THE knight just seems way too easy to me if that makes sense? It really doesn't make sense to me why Toby would take that direction. I don't really thing they're the Roaring Knight either, I think that's probably someone else. Kris seems to have opened that specific fountain for a reason. They probably slashed Toriel's tyres to stop her from leaving the house, and they leave the door open. Toriel phoned Undyne before this, they seem to want to encourage her to enter the house. If you go to the police office and talk to Undyne, you have the option to talk to Undyne about the Dark World, and after choosing that, Kris seems to explain it to her in full detail. They seem to trust her. I think they're actually trying to show both of them the Dark World, whether it's to show them that there's something wrong with them, being the whole. possession thing, or something else, I dunno, but those details just stand out to me. Sorry for the rant, I just think Knight theories are really fun as long as they're not making Kris out to be. evil I really don't think that kid is evil sorry'. End ID]

[ID 2: A screenshot that reads; 'ANOTHER THING TO ADD Kris doesn't even really have the intentions that the Knight seemingly does. They just seem to be taking extreme measures. Why would they want to start the Roaring? There's literally no reason why they would WANT to do that, based on character analysis and such. We do get a lot of insight into their character during the first too chapters. Kris seems to me like they're just a weird kid who's a bit mean (like they're particularly mean to Noelle, they pull a LOT of pranks and stuff on her, and they even force her to share a certain healing item with them, but it's not malicious behaviour, it's just friendly banter, Noelle seems looks back on it all fondly), but they don't seem like the kind of person to want to end the world, it just seems to me like they're easily annoyed. Kris is dramatic, they're flirty, they actually seem like they actively enjoy attention. They're probably just causing a scene, Toby has already stated that Chapter Three is sort of just a filler chapter in one of the newsletters (sorry I can't remember for the life of me which one, if someone wants the source I'll go routing). I REALLY doubt Kris knew they could open a fountain until Chapter 2 when Queen explained it. Them opening a fountain and their Dark World appearance just really aren't a good enough analysis when you route a little deeper. Sorry about this again, obviously more of Kris' personality could be revealed as time goes on, this is just what I've pieced together as a Professional Kris Analyser™'. End ID]

[ID 3: A screenshot that reads; 'If anyone brings up Snowgrave to battle my Kris isn't malicious statement I'll just add that Ralsei states that they look DISTRAUGHT when he meets up up with them again, and Noelle mentions that the voice coming from them when being asked to proceed doesn't sound like them in a literal sense. They have no control there, I'd say the player has more control over them during that route. Noelle doesn't mention anything about Kris adding any extra off screen dialogue when you choose any of the dialogue that progresses Snowgrave, they just state what you selected. Kris normally elongates options and interacts with characters under their own vices, we just can't SEE them doing it. But that doesn't happen during Snowgrave. I really don't get people saying that they're the main player in Snowgrave. You could argue that they didn't bother to do anything, but again, Ralsei says that they look really upset over it'. End ID]

[fandom-imagines-stories]

His Solace

Season Two Episode Five

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 5962

Series Masterlist

Summary: Morgan calls the reader to Los Vegas, worried about Spencer. Together, they face demons from his past while she continues to struggle with hers. 

Notes: I’m messing with the timeline of the episode a bit in order for the reader to be able to be there when everything happens. This one is probably going to be pretty long because I’m trying to work in scenes from the episode. Buckle up for the next part because it’s also going to be crazy long. 

Warnings: Nightmares, mentions of SA, mentions of child death, PTSD, alcoholism (lotta stuff for this one guys)

-

Spence hadn’t had the nightmare in years. 

He chalked it up to stress. The case. Going home. Worrying about you. He’d been tearing himself in half trying to balance everything. His mind was just having a hard time handling it. That was all. 

But dreaming on the plane was one thing. Waking up the parents of a missing child because of his screams was another. Morgan assured him that it would be okay. The sinking guilt and embarrassment sunk their claws into his chest nonetheless. 

Morgan returned to the kitchen where he’d been up all night looking over the case. Spence laid back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling and trying to remember everything from his dream. The same basement. The same boy. Leeches? 

He rolled over and reached for his phone on the coffee table. 

“Hello?” 

He hadn’t expected you to answer. The time crept into the early morning hours and he’d been expecting your voicemail. Not that he minded. He just wanted to hear your voice. 

“Hey, what are you doing up?” He asked. There was something going on in the background. Music maybe? Someone called something to you, but you ignored them. 

“Spencer, hey,” you said. You sounded surprised. Panicked even. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just at…” You paused and he listened to what sounded like you stepping outside, muting the music and the voices. “Sonia’s.” 

“Oh, I-uh- I can call you back then.”

“Spence, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he breathed. Spencer sat up and ran his fingers through his hair.  “Honestly, I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

You switched the phone to your other ear. He could hear the breeze through the speaker and the occasional car horn. 

“Is it the case?”

“No, I-” There was no use lying to you. “I don’t know. I’ve just been having this dream I haven’t had in a while and I don’t know if it means anything. It’s probably nothing. I’m sorry for waking you- or interrupting Sonia’s party, I guess. I’ll let you get back.”

“Spencer, wait,” you said. “Talk to me. I thought you don’t believe in dream analysis.”

“I don’t. At least I think I don’t,” he sighed. “I’ve been having the same nightmare since I was a kid and it’s felt more and more real the past few days.”

“What do you think is scaring you so much?” You cursed yourself for not being there to help him. Instead, you were out at the one place you promised yourself you’d never go again. 

The bar you used to go to with him. 

“I’m still trying to figure that out,” he said. “I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“Seriously, Spencer, it’s okay. You guys have only been gone for a couple days and I miss you so much I subconsciously grabbed one of your shirts for work this morning instead of mine.” You laughed, tugging at the collar of his button-up that you were still wearing. 

“I’m glad my absence has turned you into a kleptomaniac,” he teased, finally feeling his nerves start to settle. 

You stepped towards the road and tried to hail a late-night taxi. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to head back home and grab the Sherlock Holmes book we’re on and I’ll read to you for a change.” 

Spence fell back against the couch cushions and smiled to himself. “That sounds perfect, actually.” 

“The Sign of Four, right?”

He hummed. “Page 23.” 

“Just let me find a cab and I’ll be on my way home.” 

He briefly wondered why you hadn’t driven yourself, but his mind was focused on too many other things to overanalyze it. Instead, he tried to listen to the sound of your breathing and the light roll of thunder as it began to rain in D.C. 

-

You hadn’t meant for it to get this bad. But work had been piling up and you were trying to meet study deadlines on top of worrying about Spencer. When you were at the bar, you had Beth to cut you off, but here, at home with a full bottle drained in one sitting, you could hardly see straight. 

But at least you couldn’t feel. 

You just needed a day to give in, to let yourself drown in your dark side and then you could keep smiling, convincing everyone that everything was okay. And everything was. You could keep yourself together as long as you had times like this where you could forget how it felt to be falling apart. 

You groaned at the shrill, ear-piercing shriek of your ringtone. Had it always sounded like that? It made your head pound as if it were trying to break away from the noise through your skull. 

“Heeelllo?” 

“Y/N, it’s Derek.”

“Hey- what is it Penelope calls you- oh, right- hey Chocolate Thunder,” you giggled. 

There was a long pause on the other line. Maybe it wasn’t long, but the seconds kind of all blurred together. “Are you okay?” 

“Of courrrse I’m ffffffine,” you slurred through your words. You weren’t even trying. The part of your brain that would usually sound an alarm right about now was stuck in a haze of warm whiskey bliss. 

“Have you been…” Derek checked the hallway for anyone listening. “Are you drunk right now?” 

You gulped. “No.” 

“Christ Y/N, it’s not even noon in D.C.,” he exasperated, running a hand down his face. “Listen, I’m gonna need you to sober up real quick because I might need your help.” 

Despite every worry running through his head revolving around the idea of you drinking, Reid’s problem took the forefront of his mind. 

Your thoughts holed through the haze enough for a moment of sober clarity. “D-did something happen to Speeencer?” 

You could vaguely remember Spence calling you about nightmares a night or so ago. It felt like months. 

“I just think he could use having you here right now,” Derek said. “But, Y/N, if you’re drinking-”

“I’ll be there,” you blurted with a fair amount of effort. You hung up the phone before he could say anything else. Any drunken bliss had switched to a motivational panic, forcing your feet to move across the living room. You’d splashed your face with cold water a few times before the liquor won and you threw up the entire contents of your stomach. 

Hot tears blurred your vision more than the intoxication. Something was wrong. Spencer needed you. And here you were on the bathroom floor. 

Morgan knew. You couldn’t keep the two halves separate anymore, the dark collapsing onto the other. 

Pulling yourself off the floor, you readied yourself to pack. 

You could do this. You had to. If you lost your balance, you would fall and you weren’t sure you knew how to climb out of the pit again. 

-

Somehow, he just knew. He had to be right. Why else would his mind bring him here? Bring him back to this memory of his childhood. Spencer walked back down the hallway, and there he was, talking to Morgan and Rossi as if he had no idea what this was about. Spence’s blood boiled just looking at the face of the man that now haunted his dreams. 

His father. 

“My son? Did something happen?” 

Spencer stepped back into the lobby. “That’s what we’re trying to find out.” The two Reid men stared at each other, his father’s eyes growing wide with a mix of surprise and confusion. “Hello, dad.” 

17 years. 17 years and he was only ten minutes away. It took everything in Spence’s power to not scream at him right then and there. 

The four of them went into his father’s office, where he attempted light conversation but Spence shot it down. With every seething phrase, he could feel Morgan and Rossi’s looks of concern burning into him. He didn’t care. All he wanted was to get the truth from the man that abandoned him. 

It was when he said the name. Riley Jenkins. His father looked away. He turned to Morgan as if to ask the other agent for help. Reid was right. 

He was hiding something. 

“You remember Riley Jenkins?” Spence asked. 

His dad turned back to him. “Of course.” 

“I’ve been having dreams about him for a really long time. But when we came back here for this case, it jogged something.” His voice was level enough, but the other two agents could sense him reaching a breaking point. “The dream changed. I saw his killer.” He didn’t hesitate. Spence didn’t even flinch. “And it was you.” 

A long, tense silence passed over the room. 

His father just smiled, nervousness tinting his gaze. “Interesting dream.” 

Morgan watched him, arms crossed and mind focused. “You don’t seem all that surprised.” 

“I stopped being surprised by Spencer’s mind a long time ago.” 

The agents began closing in, starting with Rossi. Mr. Reid’s demeanor changed. He grew defensive and his tone switched to anxious agitation. Morgan requested access to his files. He told them to get a warrant. 

In Spencer’s head, it might as well have been an admission of guilt. 

Morgan watched the younger man go with a heaviness in his chest. All of the kid’s anger and all of his unfaced issues with his father were manifesting into something he couldn’t walk back from. And if this was true… was he really ready to face it?

All he could do was hope that you would be able to talk some sense into him when nobody else could. 

-

For the second time that day, Spencer found his hotel room door ajar. Cautiously, he pushed it open, hand reaching for the holster on his hip. His arm fell to his side, however, when he found you, legs crossed and nose buried in a set of pictures and files on his bed. 

“What are you doing here?” 

You didn’t even look up. “Who’s Gary Michaels?” 

“Y/N-”

“Someone slipped this under your door.” You glanced up at him. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I learned how to break into hotel rooms when I was 17 and tried to hide from Aaron for a weekend in Arlington.” 

“You’ve never told me that story,” he said. Spence shook his head, refocusing. “But that’s not the point. What are you doing here?” He snatched the file from the bed and read the note attached. 

You’re looking at the wrong guy.

Right. Nothing suspicious about that. 

“I heard you could use some help and I got on the first flight out,” you shrugged, trying to hide the way your head pounded. Sleeping on the plane was definitely not a good idea. You’d already had three coffees to nurse your midday hangover and they were making your hands shake. 

Spencer frowned. “Morgan called you, didn’t he?” 

“Yes, he called. He texted me some of the details of the case so I would know what we’re getting into,” You set the files aside and stood up, crossing the room to put a hand on his arm. “He thought you would appreciate my help, that’s all.” 

“Well I don’t,” Spence snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration. You stepped back. His tone was more than just agitated. It was aggressive. He’d never spoken to you like that. It didn’t frighten you. It hit you with how much he was really struggling. 

Spencer watched your face fall. His arms hung at his sides and his eyes blinked tears away until one escaped. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” His voice gave out before he could finish. He screwed his eyes shut to keep from crying. The anger fueling him dissipated into guilt. Maybe he’d been trying so hard to keep everything together for your sake, that everything just made him snap. Maybe this was all in his head. Maybe he was just as crazy as he always feared he would-

His internal rambling stopped at the feeling of your arms around him, your hand leaning his head onto your shoulder gently. He opened his eyes and took you in, hands clinging to you like a life preserver. The only thing keeping him afloat in this storm. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

“No,” he cried. “No, it isn’t. I don’t know which is worse. The possibility of my dad being a killer or that I’m… I’m so convinced that he is. Nothing is okay, Y/N. I don’t know- I don’t know what to do.” 

“Just talk to me,” you pleaded, putting your hands on his cheeks. “I can’t help you if you shut off on me.” 

A small smile tugged the corner of his lips. “Hypocrite.” 

“Okay, well, this isn’t about me,” you rolled your eyes. He just shook his head and pulled your lips to his. “What was that for?” 

“For being here.” 

The two of you stood there for a moment before he pulled away, walking over to the window. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

He turned his head back to you with a deeply troubled expression. “Did you have a relationship with your dad?” 

An uncomfortable shiver ran through you as if sparking your hungover headache all over again.

“I never met him, actually,” you shrugged. You nodded your head in thought. “Aaron always told me he was grateful for that. All I know about him is that he was… well, my mom was scared enough of him to kill six teenage girls if that’s a fair judgment of his character.”

Spencer looked back to the window. “Right.”  

You shook off the dark thoughts and pecked a kiss on his cheek, sitting back down on the bed. “Come on. Tell me what’s going on.” 

Spence exhaled slowly and laid back beside you. “There’s this boy I knew when I was little, Riley Jenkins. He was sexually assaulted and murdered. They found his body behind the dryer in his basement.”

“The kid in your dreams,” you exclaimed breathily. Spencer had told you about this particular set of nightmares before, but it hadn’t occurred to you that it had been from his childhood. 

“The thing is, I didn't even remember he existed until Morgan pulled his files and my dream changed. I saw Riley’s killer.” He moved his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “It was my dad.” He glimpsed at you to gauge your reaction, but you just sat beside him, hand on his arm, listening intently. “Riley Jenkins lived less than half a mile away. He was on the little league team my dad coached. When we talked to him, he was defensive and not just because of the accusation but… he was definitely hiding something.” 

“And you’re sure it has something to do with Riley’s death?” 

“I don’t know how,” he sighed. “But I know I’m right.” Spencer held up the note from the file. “My dad was involved in this boy’s death and I have to figure out how.” The determination in not only his voice but his eyes set into your heart. 

“Okay,” you nodded. That’s all you needed to hear. “Walk me through it.” 

-

Spencer needed to clear his head after rehashing everything with you and getting the call from Garcia. Having a file on his accomplishments didn’t suddenly make up for his dad abandoning him for all those years. But knowing he was checking in and still staying away… it somehow made him feel even worse. 

You were standing in front of a vending machine, pretending to pursue its contents when you were really eyeing the bar. 

“Morgan called in the big guns, huh?” the voice behind made you jump out of your skin, quickly jerking your eyes away. 

“Dave,” you gulped as you tried to calm yourself. “I didn’t know you were here, too.” 

The older agent gave you a hard once over as if scanning you for what you were hiding. You waited for him to comment on your absence from the group or your avoidance like Aaron had. After all, you’d barely seen any of them in the past few weeks. You’d barely managed to hide everything from Spencer, let alone an entire team of profilers. Especially one as skilled as David Rossi. But if he suspected anything, he kept it to himself. 

“The kid seemed like he could use a weathered veteran like me on the case,” Dave smirked. 

“I’m glad you’re here to help out,” you said. “It’s good to see you. Even if it isn’t under the best circumstances.” Your shoulders sagged a little with the truth of what you said. 

Hiding away was lonely. 

“When this is all over, you’ll have to catch me up on everything,” he nodded. There was still a hint of suspicion in his eyes and you made a mental note to put more effort into keeping up your better half. Especially since one of them already knew. 

“You were supposed to text me when you got in.” 

Speak of the Derek-Morgan-Devil. 

You turned to the approaching agent and saw the mix of anger and worry on his features. It was the same look he gave you when you were stuck in the station together in Fairfax. But beneath the outward frustration, you saw the genuine glint in his eye. Like when they found you. 

When you killed her. 

“Must have slipped my mind,” you said. “I’m going to go grab Spencer.” 

Your urgency did not go unnoticed. Rossi looked at Morgan with a raised brow. Morgan sighed. 

“It’s a long story,” he said. 

Truthfully, as soon as he’d hung up with you, he almost called your brother. Derek might not have known everything about the situation, but he liked to think that the two of you had become friends. He knew about your previous struggles with drinking and the minute he heard your intoxicated voice, he knew something was wrong. But he also knew it wasn’t his place to tell your family and friends what you were going through. That was something you had to do yourself. 

Besides, he felt like he owed you a chance to explain. After failing to keep you safe in Fairfax… he thought you at least deserved that. 

Spencer was on one of the card machines talking to a woman who’d sat beside him. A small shot of jealousy rumbled up your spine, but it quickly dissipated when his eyes met yours, lighting up. He hurried over to you, the woman calling after him. 

“Hey, there’s like two thousand dollars on here.”

“Keep it,” he said, keeping his eyes on you. “I think I figured out a way to help me remember.” 

“Did he just give two grand to a prostitute?” Morgan asked. 

“Let’s go,” you took Spence’s hand and let him lead you out of the lobby with new determination. 

-

You did not like this idea. The whole method had always made you uncomfortable and now, the thought of sending Spencer back to such a dark place freaked you out even more. Maybe a part of you feared he was right. What if his dad really killed this child? What would that do to him? 

You of all people knew the cataclysmic break it could cause inside of a person. 

Dave had offered to sit in, but you told the two that you would stay with him. Spencer was grateful. If anyone could center him back, in reality, he knew it would be you. 

You took a seat across the room while Spence laid down on the couch. Seeing the worry in your expression, he gave you a small, reassuring smile, despite the wariness in his own eyes. The hypnotherapist began the process and you forced yourself to keep still. Every nerve in your body was on edge and your hands ached for something to do to distract yourself. 

“Go back to the night you were just telling me about,” she instructed. She set the stage and you watched as Spencer fell deeper and deeper into the trance. 

You tried to focus on his face as they spoke, but images invaded your mind as if you were the one under hypnosis. Sarah Cunningham and her bottle of death loomed over you like phantoms. You took a deep breath. You were here for Spencer. 

The sound of his voice cracking helped pull you back. 

“I don’t want to be here.” 

“Okay,” the woman said. “It’s okay Spencer. Take us to where the light is.” 

The sun dipping under the horizon. The flash of the gun. The sticky, hot, spray of blood on your face. 

“Mom,” Spencer muttered. “My mom, she’s at the window. I think she’s been crying.” 

You remembered seeing Tabitha’s parents at the trial. Sarah’s tears of inconsolable grief. She was just a lost woman- like your mother. 

And you killed her. 

“I think she saw him,” Spence continued. 

“Who?” The therapist asked. “Your father?”  

Again, you force yourself to refocus, heart pounding at the sight of confused fear on Spencer’s face. 

“Do you talk to her?” 

He shook head his slightly. “No. No, I wanna… I wanna see.” 

After a moment, his grip on the hypnotherapist's wrist tightened so much she tried to pull away. She winced, looking at you fearfully. 

“What is it, Spencer?” She asked. “What are you seeing?” 

His fingers remained clamped around her wrist. His face contorts. You stand up from the chair. 

“That’s enough,” you said.

“I need you to leave this location now, Spencer,” she ordered. 

You wanted to run over to him, to take his hand to tell him everything was okay. But something inside of you was screaming to run away. Everything you touched withered and died and you were dragging him with you. 

Killer. 

Killer. Killer.

“Wake him up,” you pleaded. 

Meanwhile, Spencer watched the scene unfold as if it were a moment from someone else's life rather than his own. He saw himself, young and scared and confused, standing at the window. He watched his father over the fire. Clothes covered in blood blackened and curled in the flames. 

The hypnotherapist tried to keep her voice steady as she instructed. “I’m going to count backward from five. Five…”

His childlike terror was more than he could stand. 

“Four…”

You felt your knees weaken, the truth of your realization hitting you like a bullet.

“Three…” 

It was as if he were witnessing his life unravel and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

“Two…” 

You were just like your mother. 

“One and wake!” 

Spencer’s eyes snapped open and he gasped in short, terrified breaths. You snapped out of your own thoughts and rushed to him, everything you just felt was instantly forgotten. He latched onto your hand, eyes scanning the room in a panic.

“Spence, it’s okay. I’m right here, baby. It’s okay. It’s okay.” You pushed aside the gnawing in your brain as his eyes fell upon your face. “It’s okay.”

Spencer looked into your eyes and found himself on the brink of tears. He knew it. He knew you could bring him back from that dark place. His solace from the nightmare of his memory. He brought your hand to his lips and slowly, his breathing returned to normal.  

-

“How is he holding up?” Aaron asked. 

You sighed, switching the phone to your other shoulder as you looked over more case files. “How do you think? Finding out your parent might be a killer…” you trailed off. 

“Yeah,” Aaron exhaled. He knew what this whole ordeal must be doing to you and it took everything in him not to fly right back to Vegas to help. 

“We’re going to be okay,” you said, reading the silence between you. You sat with Gary Michael’s file in your lap and like a train, it finally dawned on you. “Oh, my god.” 

Aaron froze, that familiar fraternal panic shooting through his head. “What is it?”

“Have Garcia look up bodies found in surrounding states in the past 20 years. Look for Gary Michaels."

“The man from the file?” 

You nodded to yourself. “Maybe there’s a reason we can’t find him.” And maybe the blood that Spencer saw on the clothes wasn’t Riley Jenkins. What was it he’d told you that his mom said? 

It’s always been about him. 

“Okay, you’re on speaker,” Aaron said. 

“How’s our boy doing, Hot Stuff?” Penelope asked, followed by a series of furious typing. 

“He’ll be better once we solve this.” You listened to the other line. A sharp, quiet wince caught your attention. “JJ, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah don’t worry about me.” 

“Oh god,” Penelope gasped. “Y/N, you are a genius. Gary Michaels’ body was found in California seven years ago.” 

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Do they know what happened?” 

“No,” Aaron answered, reading the screen over Penelope’s shoulder. “But there are prints on file that were found on his glasses.” 

Another pained cry JJ attempted to hide behind her hand. 

“Are you sure everything is okay?” You repeated. 

“How often have these been?” Emily asked. 

“Seriously, I’m fine-”

“Sorry sweetie,” Penelope beamed. “But I think you’re going into labor.” 

Aaron put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get the car.” He took the phone off speaker. “Listen, I’ll call you back.”

“Of course. Take care of JJ. I’ll deal with things here.”

“And Y/N,” he started. 

You cut him off, trying to keep your mind on one thing at a time. If you thought about anything else, you’d break.  “I know.” 

-

He didn’t know what to feel. Relieved his father wasn’t a killer? Ashamed for accusing him in the first place? Guilty for everything he’d put his mom through? 

Spencer felt it all, sitting in that chair in the odd silence that had fallen over the room. He could feel you, Rossi, and Morgan watching from the other room, anxiously awaiting his reaction to everything. One thought kept in the shadows of his mind and he didn’t know what to do with it. 

He could have been another Riley Jenkins. A victim of the very crimes he’d dedicated his life to solving. 

Life has a funny way of circling back, doesn’t it? 

“We should be getting back soon and get your mother her medication,” the doctor who’d accompanied his mom said. 

“Right, of course,” Spencer agreed. 

His mom looked at him with the same loving admiration she often did. Like he was the brightest thing she’d ever seen, despite how dark his soul felt at the moment. Spence held up a hand. 

“Could you give me just one more second?” He asked the doctor, also checking his dad for a nod. 

Both approved and Spencer went out into the station, motioning you over. 

“How’d it go?” You asked tentatively. 

He thought for a moment. “Complicated, but… well?” You raised a confused brow. “I’ll tell you more later. Come with me.” 

“What? Spence, I don’t think now is the best time to-”

He ushered you into the room despite your protests. 

“Mom, Dad, this is Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N,” he announced. 

You wanted to crawl under the desk, freezing under their eyes. 

“The girl from your letters,” his mother noted with a small smile. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”  She looked at you with the same affection she might have shown her own child. It was an odd feeling, receiving a mother’s love for the first time in so long. 

“It’s an honor, Mrs. Reid,” you said. “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

“Please, call me Diana,” she beamed. “Spencer tells me you two are in similar kinds of work?” 

You nodded. “I’m a criminal psychologist.” 

You saw something click in the eyes of her doctor, but he didn’t say anything. Even over two thousand miles away, your last name, your life story, was a curse. 

Spencer’s hand found yours as if he could sense the cloud forming over your head. He gave you a smile and you pushed on. 

“Dad, this is Y/N. My- uh- my girlfriend,” he stammered. It wasn’t that he was unsure or ashamed. The word ‘girlfriend’ just didn’t seem to fit. It seemed so juvenile, so not important enough. For now, it’d have to do. 

“William Reid,” his father held out his hand and you shook it. He wasn’t the heartless monster you’d formed in your head. He was just a man. 

The doctor informed it was time to go and Spencer and his mother said their goodbyes. He exchanged a genuine but wavering handshake with his father before he departed as well, leaving the two of you in the room alone. 

“Of all the ways I imagined meeting your parents…” you blew out a breath broken up by a slight laugh. 

Spencer just pulled you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. For the first time since he’d been here, he didn’t feel himself shaking. You grounded him despite the flying thoughts rattling around his brain. 

“Hey,” you soothed. “It’s okay.” 

He didn’t say anything for a long time. He just drank in your presence like it was keeping him from drowning in the emotions he didn’t know how to feel. 

After a while, he whispered. “I’m glad Morgan called you.” 

You held him a little tighter. Right… Morgan. 

-

Spencer had never been so afraid of dropping something in his entire life. 

“Hello Henry,” he said softly, almost scared he’d talk too loud and wake up the sleeping child. He wrapped his head around the word. Godfather. 

JJ positively beamed at him. “If anything should happen to us, it’s up to you and Garcia to make sure this boy gets into Yale.” 

“Yale. Yale?” Spencer exclaimed. “Do you want to go to Yale Henry?” 

He couldn’t understand it, but the feeling growing in his chest was unlike anything he’d felt before. A kind of want that he couldn’t quite place. Spence hadn’t given much thought to having kids before- well, maybe as a distant, alternate reality where he was normal and wasn’t afraid of everything and he could see himself having that kind of life- but now, looking into the face of his godson, he already loved him like he was his own. 

“That was your godfather’s safety school.” Spencer smiled and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Don’t worry, I can get you into Cal Tech with one phone call.”  

He was smiling like you hadn’t seen him smile in weeks. You watched Spencer with the baby from outside of the room and felt the sinking pit in your stomach. The two of you had spent so much time dealing with the mess that was each other’s past that you never really got the chance to talk about the future. 

“I brought you some coffee,” Aaron’s voice startled you out of your trance. You took the styrofoam cup and let the liquid inside warm your palms. “How are you feeling?” He asked. 

You shrugged. “Just… tired. It’s been a long few days.” 

He hummed. It’d been so long since you’d seen your brother in person, somehow he looked different. Worry drew lines on his face and his eyes glimpsed over at you with a mix of his usual seriousness, care, and a touch of hurt. 

“Jack misses you,” he finally said. “Haley was asking if you’d stop by sometime.” 

“Yeah,” you gulped down a sip of coffee. “Of course.” 

You turned back to the man in the window. Spencer’s bright face should have brought you some semblance of security, or at least relief that he would be okay after the events of the last few days. Instead, there was a gnawing feeling inside your gut and your mind traveled back to the hypnotherapist's office.

You were a killer. 

You were just like your mother. 

“He’d make a great dad, wouldn’t he?” You whispered, hoping that if you kept your voice low, Aaron wouldn’t hear the sorrow in your words. Tears welled in your eyes, everything clicking into place in your mind. 

You could never give Spencer that. A future. You would forever drag him into the past and he deserved so much more than that. He deserved someone who could make his face light up like it was right now. He deserved a life away from you. 

“He would,” Aaron agreed with a small smile. He turned just in time to see you rushing down the hall. “Y/N?” He called after you, but you kept going until you ran into a firm, entrapping barrier. 

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Not now, Derek.” You kept your eyes low so he wouldn’t see you cry. 

“Yes now,” he ordered. The taller man put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place. “Avoiding me isn’t going to make it go away.” 

“I really can’t do this right now-”

“That’s too damn bad because we’re going to.” He ushered you over to a bench, clearly not going to take no for an answer. “Sit down and look at me.” 

You obeyed. When he saw your tears, his face softened. 

“Just talk to me, Y/N.”

You scoffed and wiped your cheeks with your sleeve. “Everybody keeps saying that. Just talk. Tell them what’s wrong. But what am I supposed to say? That I see the woman I killed every time I close my eyes? That I’m afraid every single day that I’m only hurting everyone I care about, most of all Spencer.” You choked back a sob. “That I’ve been so scared that I started drinking again after four years of not touching a drop just so I could stop feeling for once.” 

You covered your face with your hands. Derek didn’t say anything. He just put a supportive hand on your back and waited for you to calm down again. It felt like you were back in that police station and he was pulling you back to the ground. 

“Y/N,” he started softly. “I know that you’re tough as nails and that brain of yours is more brilliant than I even know, but you can’t do this alone.” He moved you gently so that you were sitting up and looking at his face. “You have to tell them.” 

You shook your head. “No. No, I can’t. I can handle it, Derek. I’ve been handling it, I swear-”

He stood up. With that steady voice that had more than once kept you from going over the edge, he looked down at you. The guilt pouring through his thoughts made him want to lock you in a room so you could never be hurt again. Part of him knew that this was his fault. If he had just stayed with you…

He sighed. “Tell them, or I will.” 

-

It was almost morning by the time he left the hospital. He’d found a few pamphlets about newborns and read all of them, just in case. He’d already read several books since JJ announced she was pregnant, but the idea of being a godfather made him even more nervous. 

The exhaustion of the last few days was telling on him and he was ready to curl up with you and sleep for a week. From the rollercoaster with his parents to the happiness for JJ, all of his emotions felt draining. 

Spencer unlocked the door to the apartment and, as the door swung open, he knew something was wrong. Something about the silence felt off. Wrong. The apartment was dark. There was an unsettling stillness throughout the living room. It was as if his senses knew before his mind- a feeling he knew too well at this point. 

Spence put down his bag and walked to your desk where a small note in your handwriting said goodbye. 

-

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird

[anghraine]

Hello! Sorry if this seems out of the blue and naive, but I have to ask: Do you write about P&P on an academic level and if so, is the fact that you write thoughtful near-academic content about it on social media detrimental to that? Basically I am trying to ask this:

Are you allowed to write academically about something after you wrote so much about it on social media? Especially since what you write about it isn’t, you know, “memes”, but textual analysis?

Again, sorry if this sounds weird and ignorant, but I also wrote extensively about my favorite novel on here and I also one day want to write about it on an academic level, but I don’t know if it is “allowed”, so to speak?

Sorry if this is a personal question. You can answer it in private if you want to or ignore it.

Hello! It's no problem.

I've written about P&P for grad school (both in my MA and PhD) and a bit in my dissertation, but much more about Mansfield Park. That's about all I've done with P&P academically. I've actually had more ... let's say, success as externally defined with early modern (Renaissance) stuff, which I also specialized in. So there's that.

But there's also the fact that my style and approach are quite different between academia and fandom. My Tumblr style is probably more academia-adjacent than is usual (partly for autism reasons, to be sure), but it's still comparatively casual for me and integrates fandom conventions far more than my academic work, so even when I talk about ideas that I initially was thinking through in Tumblr posts, I handle the discussion differently in an academic context and tend to advance it very differently.

So there's not much of a connection in terms of my colleagues and there isn't really anyone who's going to say, well, this basic point in the larger discussion was already made in a different context on anghraine dot tumblr dot com, you don't get to talk about it. I do avoid talking about ideas that strike me as really novel or really specific to me on social media, though.

That said, while I've maintained some separation between my Anghraine social media presence and my academic one, a lot of academics rely on social media to publicize their work and engage with other academics (for better and worse) outside the glacial pace of academic publishing.

I used to have a Twitter account for that (before the reign of Musk) and I'd just ramble on about academic stuff, including Austen, and it was usually in respect to Austen that I'd have really interesting conversations with considerably more advanced academics than me. People aren't going to want to share so much that full publications are meaningless, but they do often share enough to participate in academic discourses.

But another factor for me personally is that I actually try to avoid mixing full-throttle academic work and the works I love the most. People talk a lot about finding a way to commodify integrate what you love most into work and making it a kind of vocation, but for me, at least, that does not remotely work. It just drains the joy out of something I used to love.

I could have specialized in sci-fi/fantasy scholarship, for instance, and it would likely have been much easier in some ways, but it would also likely have soured me on SF/F (my great love otherwise). That was one of the main reasons I decided not to do it and instead went with things that interested me quite a bit, but not too much. So I tend to shy away from thoroughly mixing things that are extremely important and joyful for me with academia.

When it comes to stories I love, I kind of relate to them like a dragon with a hoard, you know? Nobody's going to take this from me! So a lot of the things I write about academically have rarely or never shown up in my fandom content because I maintain that bit of distance.

So it can be a bit complicated. I would say that I imagine publicizing some ideas makes them less likely to be published, but at other times, it's helpful in connecting with people and becoming part of academic discourse. It really depends, which is probably not very useful despite the length of this response. But there aren't many people who are in a position to allow or disallow me to write professionally about whatever I want and am professionally equipped to discuss.

[bluebugjay]

Drugstore Perfume analysis yay!

Characters:

'She' - being sung about

'I' - the narrator

'They' - ?? (the haters)

Key:

Bold / Italics = Lyrics

Non italics = Analysis

She waits at windows

Her dreams don't show in color,

and she sleeps

For now

But she just waits around

Whole first section basically saying she is stuck and seemingly given up on her 'dreams' (they don't show in color meaning they haven't been realised yet) she's waiting at windows, watching other people live their lives whilst she's stuck behind the glass, waiting around

Wishing she could leave, single mothers

In parking lots

And wear another girl's evening out

This place lets you down, easy

She wants to escape her current life, the responsibilities that come with it the monotony and wear another girl's evening out. She seems to believe she's incapable of living her life like the other girls and wishes she could. This links to the name of the song as well 'Drugstore Perfume', its a cheaper option, one possibly looked down upon as not a 'proper' perfume, just another way she doesn't fit in with the other girls

She gets up to buy a drink

I notice why when she walks by

There's something caught in her eye,

First mention of 'I'. Something being caught in her eye reminds me of the saying 'a twinkle in your eye' and the use of 'caught' rather than stuck, or a more negative sounding word makes me think its a good thing there's something in her eye, not in a literal sense but as if the 'twinkle' is hope for her dreams, circling back to the first section implying she hasn't fully given up and deep down there's still a chance

she says, That she can't change for love

And she explains how long she's waited for

She wanted more

She can't change for love implies someone has asked her to change, someone who 'loves' her but she just can't even for that. The use of waiting again but the sentence is left unfinished, she's waited for...? At this point we don't know for sure but assumably it's whatever her 'dreams' are. She wanted more, also suggests this isn't what she expected, seems like she's not done anything wrong but is being punished anyways by being kept waiting at the window

Dead leaves, desperate summers

All-ages club, and metal shutters to keep you out

Dead leaves, desperate summers seems to represent time passing, autumn to summer is one whole year so this is referencing how long she's waited and been stuck where she is, years. All-ages clubs probably signifies she's young still and metal shutters I think are more symbolic, she's not necessarily actually been shut out of the clubs but in a metaphorical sense maybe she's not fitting in, people are not including her, she feels left out. but she can't change for love

While we hang around factories

Till we meet each other

Two discount lives and heavy numbers

To keep you down

Factories seems too specific not to be symbolic. Factories are where products are built and made, I think if we know she's young this is a kind of 'coming of age' metaphor, she's hanging around factories, she is the product and she's finding herself, creating herself. This is further backed up by 'two discount lives', products (sometimes made in factories) get discounted. Her life is discounted as it feels broken or unfit or even only half there, because when something is discounted the price is reduced. Also she and the narrator are interacting now, they are a 'we'. Both of them are in the same position thinking their lives are discount, they're both hanging around factories

If I wait around, maybe she

Might come back to say that I'm

Not sure you know my name, that's fine

But take me with you this time, she says

The 'come back' seems like we've jumped forward in time, the narrator was looking back before and now is in the present. seemingly the narrator and her have gone separate ways and the narrator wishes she would come back and want the same as they do, to not be separate. Not sure you know my name, is interesting as if these were two people who'd met already surely they'd know each others names so it's possible these are just characters representing concepts rather than actually people themselves, the narrator not knowing her name meaning she's not something they're familiar with or fully understands or has come to terms with yet. But even as the narrator knows this, they still want her back

That she can't change for love

And she explains how long she's waited for

She wanted more

Chorus again, after the time jump is seems repeating this with no change suggests she still feels this way, she's still waiting, wanting to leave the window, she still wants more than she's been given now

Gone, today

I might just see you around

It hurts but I understand

If you can't find another reason not to stay

This again is the narrator hoping to meet her again saying it hurts to be without her but they understand why she might not want to leave where she is. With where she is, being trapped waiting behind the window from the first section. It's unclear as this part is from the narrators perspective how she feels, whether she would want to stay or not, if she's waiting for something it seems maybe she won't leave until that thing arrives

And while she's walking away, she says

That she can't change for love

And she explains how long she's waited for

She wanted more

And as these days go by

They can't change how long we've waited for

A love that's more

A love that's more

The chorus again but with a twist at the end. The use of the word 'they' for the first time saying 'they can't change', going back to the line 'she can't change for love' seems like the people being referred to here are the people who don't accept her and with the use of 'we' again, the narrator too, and want them to change. But they can't change. And we finally get the answer to what they've been waiting for and dreaming of, 'a love that's more'. More being unconditional. More being without the need for them to change. They're waiting to be accepted as they are. She is still waiting at the window for a love that's more but it seems the narrator is just waiting for her. Going back to the thought she is more like a concept than a character, she could represent the thing people want to change, she's hidden away, waiting to be accepted and loved but the day just isn't coming. Whereas the narrator could be the person who people want to change, they're trying to accept who they are knowing they can't change, they want her to come back so they can keep the aspect of them she represents with them, and out from behind the window. In that sense the love that's more is the love between them, between a person and themself, a person and all the parts of themself everyone else can't accept, self-acceptance. She and the narrator are one in the same. It's a search for self-love

So to try and summarise, it's a song about a personified aspect of the narrator who is hidden away, waiting to be loved. The narrator seems to start off pretty lonely and secluded and insecure then in the face of not being accepted attempt to accept themself, give themself that 'love that's more' as no one else is. It's technically left open ended whether she leaves the window or not but the use of 'we' at the end and the repeating chorus could imply a happy ending (or at least that's what I like to believe)

also I think with a song so complex it's bound to mean a bunch of different things to a bunch of different people so this is just my take on the song, not saying its the only one or even the right one :)

[kasienda]

Celebrity Status: Ch 6 - Just Another Day

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Read on Ao3

Chapter 6: Just Another Day

“Who wakes up thinking I’m totally cut out to be a superhero?!” Ladybug asked. “No one. Certainly not me,” Ladybug said, laughing. 

Adrien winced and x-ed out of the tab. He knew her comments hadn’t landed well before any commentary or analysis came out. 

This was all his fault.

Turned out that while humility and self-deprecating humor played well for a wealthy privileged male teen model, the same traits were not admired in a female superhero tasked with saving the city over and over again. 

He probably should quit as her PR coach before he made things worse, and he’d have to figure out how to make it up to her. 

She groaned loudly behind him, burying her face into one of his throw pillows. 

“It’s not that bad,” he insisted. 

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.” 

“Is it working?” 

“You always make me feel better,” she mumbled. 

Heat burned across his face. He could not have heard that correctly. 

“Oh god! Did I just say that out loud?” 

He laughed, and let himself fall onto the couch next to her. “I’m glad that I can do something to help. Seems like I’m just making the rest of your life worse.” 

“I promise you’re not. I’m a disaster enough at that all on my own. I don’t even care about the internet hating Ladybug at the moment. Like, who cares what they think.” 

Adrien frowned. He knew that public opinion could matter a lot. He didn’t know how in this case, but his father poured hundreds of thousands into public relations for a reason. 

“Right now, I just wish I could get my parents to stop repeatedly grounding me for literally saving the city! It’s not my fault Hawkmoth’s timing sucks!”

He had it easier than her in some ways. He usually was able to get away from his friends pretty easily by blaming his father. And it wasn’t that hard to get out of the mansion when no one paid attention to him. 

At least Ladybug had parents who paid attention. 

"Maybe you just need a more plausible explanation," Adrien suggested. “Is there something in your life that occasionally prevents you from doing your best, or being where you're supposed to be? Something that you could just exaggerate or stretch?"

She lit up, and smiled at him like he hung the moon. "We could say I'm having panic attacks! It wouldn't even be that much of a stretch since I've always had anxiety."

The comment was sobering. "You struggle with anxiety?" he asked quietly.

She blushed. "More than a little bit honestly."

"You seem so confident as Ladybug. Like nothing seems to faze you during akuma strikes."

"Yeah, when it's a disaster I handle it no problem! I guess I don't have time to overthink it? I just have to act? But the day to day things, I'm usually a mess."

“I can’t even imagine that.” 

Her face turned beet red and she turned away. “Yeah,” she croaked. “My best friend could tell you some really embarrassing stories. Thank goodness you have no idea who she is!” 

He smiled. “It’s a shame. I would love to pick her brain.” 

… 

Akuma attacks had become the bane of her existence. The akumas themselves weren’t that bad. But ever since her first interview had gone off the rails, it seemed reporters and journalists smelled blood in the water. They wouldn’t leave her alone. 

Thank god for Chat Noir who usually knew what to say or would physically get between her and any microphone held out to capture another sound bite. But he had to bolt today - said he was about to be missed. 

And this one particular lady would not get off her tail. She finally gave up, and whirled around. 

“What?!” she roared. 

The lady stumbled back. “I umm… I’m sorry! I wanted to speak to you about Alya Cesaire?” 

Ladybug breathing quickened. Had they figured her out? 

She supposed she didn’t need to lie about having panic attacks if she started having them for real. 

“Wh-what about her?” 

…

“Oh my god! Marinette! You won’t believe what happened!” Alya squealed.

Marinette tried not to grin. She had a little bit of an idea. 

“The city is giving me an Award!” 

“What?! No way! What for?” Marinette asked, now letting her smile run free reign. Alya deserved this. 

“My blog was nominated for best citizenship reporting and I won! There’s gonna be an award ceremony and everything. I’m going to be the first minor ever to receive it! Ladybug herself is going to be there!” 

“You’ve already met Ladybug!”

“I know, but– now, she’s gonna give me an award!” Alya turned to her, grinning so widely. “Will you go with me as my plus one?!” 

Marinette’s chest tightened. “Oh! Umm… wouldn’t you rather go with Nino?” 

“Absolutely not! He will be so bored!” 

Marinette made herself smile. “Then of course I will be there,” she said, proud that her voice didn’t wobble at all. She had no idea how to pull this off. 

The akuma alert went off. 

Alya grinned excitedly at her while Marinette just wanted to groan. 

“Looks like it’s time for this award-winning journalist to shine!” Alya squealed.

Marinette smiled fondly. At least one of them was getting something from all these akuma attacks. 

She transformed and followed the sound of nearby explosions. 

The akuma chased a group of teens slightly older than herself. One of them tripped. Ladybug swooped down and scooped her up just in time to dodge the blast of projectiles that struck the ground behind them. 

The boy squirmed in her arms. 

“Hold still. I’ve got you.” 

But the boy only fought harder. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said. “I’m better off on my own.”

He broke free in the middle of her arc and fell like a lead weight to the ground forty meters below.

She let go of her yo-yo to chase him, but gravity wouldn’t let her fall any faster than him.

He landed with a horrible crunch and a scream. 

Her miraculous cure healed him after the battle, but she could still see the agony on his face whenever she closed her eyes. 

…

[randomsufff]

No ok but I NEED to just spit out my personal analysis of what the fuck was going on in the last 10 minutes of episode 6 because I’m actually going insane just holding all these THOUGHTS in my brain and have quite literally been thinking of nothing else for the past few days.

Cause we all know what Crowley was saying: I love you, let’s finally acknowledge this THING between us, run away and be together with me, fuck everyone else. Quite literally the same mindset as when the Not-pocalypse was going on.

Now AZIRAPHALE ON THE OTHER HAND…

Ok let’s get into this whole scene from the very beginning shall we… with Metatron sending Aziraphale to break the news to Crowley:

“You don’t have to answer immediately, take all the time you need…Go on and tell your friend the good news”

Ok so this make it seem like Aziraphale haven’t accepted the offer right? With the good news being the offer itself, right? But THEN, (skipping ahead here sorry) after the whole kiss scene the Metatron comes in and says:

“Right, ready to start?”

So it seems like Aziraphale already accepted the position??? And it’s not the Metatron is forcing Aziraphale to make a decision right there and then because everything said after implies he was prepared to leave/ already made his choice. He doesn’t look taken aback or like that question came out of left field when The Metatron asks if he’s ready, he replies with a sound “No” when asked if there’s anything to take with him, and he starts to says “I think I..” when they start to leave, the rest of which I’m sure was going to be “I think I made a mistake” or “I think I want to stay, actually” which, again, SOUNDS LIKE HE MADE HIS DECISION BEFORE HE ENTERED THE SHOP

(Not to mention when Crowley asked: “Tell me you said no…” Aziraphale didn’t say: “I didn’t says yes either”, or “I haven’t told them my answer”, he just remained silent which implies he said yes)

So going back to the first line, we can only assume there was another offer made to Aziraphale, one he maybe didn’t tell Crowley about, and the “Good News” is 1) the offer of making Crowley into an angel and 2) Aziraphale choosing to go to Heaven.

What I’m going insane after is WHAT THE FUCK IS “You don’t have to answer immediately, take all the time you need” REFERRING TO

Ok… now moving on to literally everything else (beware- it is extremely long underneath):

So right after Metatron dismisses Aziraphale, and as Aziraphale walking to the shop, we linger on him and he looks NERVOUS and like, uneasy. There’s not a hint of that huge smile he gives Crowley when he gives his “incredibly good news” Which you might be like, obviously he was nervous, he’s about to break this huge news to Crowley. BUT, counterpoint, if Aziraphale actually thought that what he was about to say was this incredibly great news that Crowley would have absolutely loved to hear, he wouldn’t be nervous, right? He’d be fucking ecstatic from the moment he walked away from The Metatron. So that fact that he ISNT, makes me believe that either Aziraphale himself didn’t like the decision he made or he KNEW that Crowley wouldn’t like what he was about to say, but said it anyways (for what reason, we speculate later)

When he enters the shop, he even gives Maggie and Nina a tense smile. You know, a smile you would give someone passing on the street when you were absolutely stressed out of your mind but didn’t want anyone to see it.

AND THEN, he give this little look that so full of love and a little sigh that’s kind of like a “yes we do have a lot to say” in response to Nina’s “It seems like you two have a lot to talk about”, which just reminds you of how during this ENTIRE SEASON, we see Aziraphale be incredibly openly fond of Crowley. That he is just as smitten for Crowley, since probably before the Beginning. I mean, right after Beelzebub and Gabriel fucked off to space, Aziraphale was STARING at Crowley with such heart eyes that it looked like man’s was about to risk it all after everyone left.

And here’s where I can’t tell weather he’s genuinely excited over the news he’s giving or if he’s just gotten realllyyy good at pretending. He’s constantly looking out the window, to where the Metatron is waiting, at the cafe, and overall very jittery and nervous. And, granted, this could just be him getting excited over the news(for reasons we’ll talk about)- but again, it’s news that seemed to give him a bit of stress.

So then we go onto the flashback of the conversation between the Metatron and Aziraphale. And here’s where I can’t believe people think Aziraphale just ran back to Heaven at the slightest bit of praise because the Metatron point blank tells him, “you’re a leader, you’re honest…I need you to run [these enormous projects], you are just the angel for the job” and Aziraphale doesn’t look happy. He’s stressed and clearly uncomfortable. The Metatron is literally singing his praises about how needed and valued he is and he could not give less of a shit. AZIRAPHALE STRAIGHT UP SAYS “I don’t want to go to Heaven” after alllllllll that. THE ONLY THING that convinces Aziraphale to accept the offer is the presence of Crowley right by his side.

So QUITE LITERALLY Aziraphale accepted the offer BECAUSE of Crowley, and that is the lenses I will be looking through his dialogue with from now on.

“You could come back to Heaven and… everything, like the old times, only even nicer.” I think the “everything” part of this sentence is talking about everything Pre-Fall Crowley had: one who was happy and was beloved by others, one who had quite literally everything they wanted. One who LOVED creating nebulas and had such passion for the beauty of the starts that he complained that the universe isn’t just some “fancy wallpaper”. Someone who wasn’t outcasted for (what he now realizes) such a stupid thing as just asking questions and doubting intentions. And I’m not sure what re-sending (?) would entail, but according to Aziraphale it seems like he would still be himself, just have that official angel status. The “only nicer” referring to how they’ll know each other, how their relationship and history will allow them to truly be together in a way they weren’t, and COULDN’T before.

“Well obviously you said no to Hell, you’re the bad guys. But Heaven. It’s the side of truth, of light, of good.” SIR WHAT THE FUCK??? This line threw me off the most because honestly man what the fuck. Not even a “They’re the bad guys” it’s “YOURE the bad guys”. Unfortunately I feel like this confirms that Aziraphale does still think them as opposing sides. Sure they’re a team, but unlike Crowley who think they’re their own group: a THEM, I think Aziraphale still thinks them as a angel and a demon. I think he’s very aware they are still on “opposing sides”. Sigh… anyways through the Heart Eye lenses I think Aziraphale is referencing how… good Crowley is. Because as much as he protests how nice he ISN’T- he still saves kids, still condemns offing one’s self, care for humans well-being and safety. He’s constantly doing the RIGHT thing, and in Aziraphales eyes that is synonymous with the Heaven he wants/ images, the good guys. He doesn’t belong in Hell so therefore he must belong in Heaven.

(Thinking about that shade of grey scene- and honestly the “you’re just of a bastard to be worth knowing” lines- I feel like Aziraphale DOES, or at least SHOULD, understand that things aren’t black and white. That there is nuance. But since he’s looking at Crowley through Gold Colored glasses, he thinks Crowley is straight up good- nothing else. He’s thinking “well Crowley SAYS he’s not nice but that’s obviously not true, so he’s just lying to save face and he’s really a great person deep down no matter what he says” (which- wow invalidating much Aziraphale, but that’s another convo). All of this just to say I think Aziraphale thinks Crowley deserves angelic status, way more then any other stuffy angel currently up there)

Then Crowley says “When Heaven ends life here on Earth, it’ll be just as dead as if Hell ended it”, and it doesn’t look like Aziraphale disagrees with that statement. Obviously right? Because that was the whole point of season 1. Aziraphale just looks… frozen? Almost kind of realizing that Crowley is very much not taking this as well as he thought? Isn’t hearing what he’s trying to say? I don’t know. Point blank, Aziraphale knows blindly following after Heaven is bad, he knows Heaven, AS IT IS, is bad. He knows that, which directly leads to his “If I’m in charge, I can make a difference.” line

Now AS CROWLEY SPEAKING, Aziraphale almost looks… taken aback? At first? Like, in a, this isn’t how I planned this to go what are you going to do rn way. He narrows his eyes a lot, which makes it look like he’s not so much confused on what Crowley is saying/ doing, but wondering why he’s doing it NOW. (Which kinda confirms they both very well knew what was happening b/w each other and said nothing like the dumb dumbs they are). He also glances at the window- again, at the Metatron. This conversation is very much not how he thought it was going to go, and he starts shaking his head as Crowley verbally rejects both Heaven and Hell. WHAT ARE YOU SHAKING NO AT, MAN? Trying to deny that Crowley is rejecting you? Trying to get him to stop saying blasphemous things about Heaven when The Metatron is right there??? Idk.

But as soon as Crowley says “…Just be an us. You and me, what do you say?” Aziraphale immediately jumps on that, says “Come with me” says they can be an “us” in Heaven, both on the same side, both doing good just as they have always done the in the centuries before. He goes from “I can make a difference” to “WE can make a difference”. THEY BOTH WANT THE SAME THING: TO BE TOGETHER RAHHHH. But most importantly- “we can make a difference”. I think the main point Aziraphale accepted the offer, like many people have speculated, was to make Heaven a place deserving of Crowley. I think he knows by now that the reason why Crowley was cast out of Heaven was incredibly stupid. That Crowley’s curiosity, objections, and connection to humanity make him a better person and angel then he is (I mean some of y’all forget Aziraphale was about to straight up shoot Adam in Season 1, not to mention it being his meddling in Scotland that lead to a young woman dying that night). So to have an opportunity to not only make Heaven acknowledge that casting out Crowley was a MISTAKE, but to possibly change they system so they can create a Heaven that encourages questioning and objection, to create a Heaven that is as ACTUALLY good as it should be, would be a dream.

Of course the “Nothing last forever”. A lot of people attribute this to him talking about material possessions (and it very well could be). But it also feel like Aziraphale was referring to this life they’ve carved out for themselves, this peace. His tone is slightly… pitiful? Sorrowful? Wistful? Perhaps Aziraphale knew realistically there’s no way they could have spent the rest of their centuries in this bookshop, that Heaven and Hell would eventually plan for either the end of them or the world yet again, put in motion what they think is inevitable.

Again, everything said after this has an emphasis on being TOGETHER. Then after Crowley refuses to respond or even look at him: “I don’t think you understand what I’m offering you”, which is clearly said in a angry, last ditch effort for Crowley to say something. Aziraphale is visibly frustrated while he says this line and he probably thinks he’s offering Crowley safety (wether that’s true or not remains to be seen) and everything he DESERVES.

Finally a passive aggressive “Then there’s nothing more to be said”. But, (as many others pointed out) dudes just as devastated as Crowley, is just as rejected.

The kiss? Not unwanted like some might say. I think it’s pretty established Aziraphales gone for the dude, and he definitely could have pulled away anytime. I mean, the reason it probably lasted so long is cause neither of them wanted it to end. Dude was fighting for his life not to reciprocate.

Ahhhh here we are at the elusive “I forgive you” line. As I said before, it’s a way to put himself above the things he as feeling. A way to emotionally run away from the inner turmoil Crowley confession and subsequent kiss created in him

(Quick 12/10 applause for Micheal Sheens acting chops on heartbreak so depressing it gets me feeling just as heartbroken as Aziraphale is :D)

Though shortly after the heartbreak turns into anger and he wipes away the kiss, frustrated in how much more complicated Crowley made things and how he didn’t accept his offer. When The Metatron comes in, Aziraphale immediately turns to wipe his tears and compose himself, putting on a cheery act. He tries to stall, almost calls after him to tell him he made a mistake, but when he turns to look at Crowley waiting out the window and decides to go to Heaven anyways, I can’t say with 100% certainty it’s for good reasons. It almost looks like he does it to SPITE Crowley’s rejection. That IN SPITE of Crowley rejecting his offer, he’s going to PROVE that he can change Heaven to be something worthy of Crowley. Idk, looking closely at his expression, it’s not an expression you make when you decide to nobly sacrifice yourself to the front lines for a loved one, it’s more of a side-eye,I’ll-show-YOU, scorned, lover look. And it’s that same look of- “hm I’ll show HIM” that Aziraphale puts on when following The Metatron.

When The Metatron mentions the next step of the Great Plan, and Aziraphale says “Yes, you mentioned that… can I know what it is?” Now this phrasing interests me because it implies that 1) Aziraphale noticed The Metatron’s mention of “Big Plans” and took note and 2) the light tone and passively asking way of “can I know what it is” vs something demanding like “and, what exactly are these plans?” makes me think he is very much aware of the precarious position he is in and how carful he has to be to keep his standing with Heaven and The Metatron light and friendly. He knows what he’s facing, he just thinks the ends (Crowley’s safety and happiness) justifies the means.

THEN, The Metatron mentions needing an angel who familiar with Earth, and seems to genuinely smile at that. I mean, I don’t think Crowley ever mentioned that Heaven was planning for a second Apocalypse, as there really was no time for discussion after Crowley came down from Upstairs. (Which really, they I hope they talk about that next season cause wtf Crowley) So I think this smile from Aziraphale is him thinking Heaven is finally going to work with and acknowledge the good of humanity.

Of course that is immediately crushed when The Metatron says “the Second Coming” and we can very clearly see how distressed Aziraphale is over the idea. And that dramatic musical cue too, as Aziraphale looks off in horror for a second. I think it HERE at this point, he decided to go to Heaven to learn more about this “Second Coming” to prevent it. He smiles disarmingly at The Metatron and quickly tries to pull himself together after this revelation and new goal. But before leaving realizes there’s no way he can contact Crowley about this, not anymore. Aziraphale is about to go somewhere Crowley can’t follow, to a place where Crowley can’t swoop in and save him if he massively fucks up. He’ll have to face the consequences of his actions directly.

He takes a breath before stepping in, one that feels like one would take before charging head first into battle, and it sort of feels like he’s convincing himself he’s making a choice that’ll benefit the greater good or something as he goes up.

(I’d also like the note The Metatron letting out a breath as soon as the door close, like he wasn’t sure that Aziraphale was going to completely follow him. I think he definitely planned this all to separate them due to how powerful and how unpredictable they are now that a second apocalypse is approaching)

SO WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN????

I don’t know man, I. don’t. KNOW. Was Aziraphale faking all that giddiness in a last ditch effort to try and convince Crowley to accept an offer he knew he would refuse? Was he actually happy about the deal? Ok- the two theories I came up after alllll this that make the most sense are these:

1) He took the deal in order to reform Heaven to be a place worthy of Crowley/ to keep them safe etc., even though he knew Crowley wouldn’t like or approve of it. Crowley confessing threw off his whole explanation and he never got to fully explain this in the way he wanted. The kiss only complicated this decision further but ultimately still decided to go through with it because he genuinely believes he can fix the broken system to be what it’s SUPPOSED to be . Only after learning of the Second Coming does he decide he can also attempt to stop that, or at least gather as much info on it as he can and run if he fails.

2) He took the Heaven deal to double cross them from the start. He realized what The Metatron was trying to do and accepted to get first hand info/ snoop around Heaven easily. He argued what he lowkey believed to be true in order to convincingly fight with Crowley since The Metatron was watching them through the window across the street, and was trying to get Crowley to either subtly understand what he was doing or to get him as far from his as possible for his own safety. Unfortunately Crowley’s kiss and confession mucked that up and he never got to clarify his decision. He’s either frustrated that Crowley never let him explain and stormed off or is mad Crowley would ever believe Aziraphale would truly abandon him and decides to continue on with his plan to double cross since it’s for the good of humanity- THEIR side. Learning of the Second Coming only solidifies his resolve to learn more.

AND- if there really was a second offer The Metatron made like the beginning dialogue suggests. Perhaps the first of the two was a deal or passive threat Aziraphale couldn’t refuse. It was something that alluded Aziraphale should watch out and keep on his toes, something that would be easier to monitor if he was in Heaven.

[lara635kookie]

Ship Analysis pt.6:

Red Crackle, Carmivy and Carulia.

And about Carmen being mind-wiped he didn't allow to do that. He doesn't have that power. There was nothing he could do to stop Carmen to be brainwashed. We saw how fast V.I.L.E. did it so no one would be able to stop it. Considering the way V.I.L.E. did it, probably everyone that isn't Maelstrom and Doctor Bellum found out that Carmen was evil only after it was already done. And we see is a powerful mind control because Gray heard Doctor Bellum's voice and was exposed to his old V.I.L.E. best friend and didn't remember a thing without the A.C.M.E. machine. So he couldn't just tell evil Carmen about it without V.I.L.E. knowing. And he didn't know how to contact team red so A.C.M.E. really was his only choice.

Another topic is that the only people we see evil Carmen almost killing is Tigress, Zack and Shadowsan. In that order. And Gray clearly wasn't okay with any of these. In the one with Tigress, Gray asks evil Carmen to stop and she stops, simple as that. Look at this, man:

You can't tell me this woman doesn't have a soft spot for Gray. Even in friendship terms, which seems unlikely to me because I have two younger siblings and I don't look to my sister and brother like that. Anyway, the second one is Zack in the ferris wheel. Carmen just warns Gray to stay prepared and act at her signal, but she doesn't explain why and he clearly looks surprised because he didn't know what she was going to do until she does it(that's something that happens a lot with evil Carmen). And the third one is Shadowsan which he could do nothing about because well...He was "dead" on the ground. Coming back to the first one with Tigress, we saw how quickly Carmen listened when Gray told her to stop. Seriously, can you picture dark Carmen listening this fast if it was El Topo, Le Chevre or any other agent? We see Carmen and Crackle were assigned to missions alone, without the rest of their classes. You cannot convince me Crackle was the only one that could calm dark Carmen down. If it wasn't for him, evil Carmen would have killed someone, which doesn't seem to be the case. You cannot tell me V.I.L.E. didn't put them to be assigned partners that always do almost every mission together like El Topo and Le Chevre. Both Carmen and Gray were praised for being one of the best thieves V.I.L.E. ever had. They would only need to kill if they were seen/caught. And together, they wouldn't commit such mistakes. He did say "it was fun while it lasted" but it's another ambiguous, room for multiple interpretations phrases by Gray. I think he meant that having Carmen and his old class with him again, because of the considerations I made of V.I.L.E. before. Honestly, we'll never know for sure what made Gray suddenly decide to help Carmen. Of course he mentions Shadowsan but Gray didn't even care about Shadowsan that much. But he knew Carmen did. And the fact that he decides to help A.C.M.E. because he wants Carmen to be in control of her own path and free his best friend, even willing to go to jail for it, already means he's not truly evil. Yes it took long, but better late than never. Besides, I have a theory that, since Carmen and Gray were assigned partners in crime, and both were the best dynamic power couple duo, V.I.L.E. assigned them to every single possible mission because they knew they wouldn't fail. So my take is that he didn't have the time to act on evil Carmen with Carmen being with him all the time, that's why he does it immediately after Carmen becomes a member of the faculty. Speaking of which, both Carmen and Gray were just back at V.I.L.E. so the faculty had to keep an eye on them. Six months sounds like a fair amount of time to be considered reliable again so after Gray had less faculty eyes on him, he went to A.C.M.E. I feel like, if it wasn't for this factors, he would have done it way before. He was actually smart. It was a clever plan:Waiting for the time to contact A.C.M.E. in the easiest, safest and less likely to go wrong way. So for me it was plenty enough to redeem him. That's what I think.

[sporkdoesclasspect]

how about a general analysis of a seer of void? :o

hi hi! ok so, this one ended up being kind of all over the place and doesn't cover Everything, so it's kinda more like my "random stuff" answers, but i hope it's helpful in some way! feel free to send in another ask about any specific things i didn't mention that you might be curious about!

ahem. a seer is someone who knows their aspect. they use that knowledge strategically to give themselves and others an advantage - they conceal or reveal it at their discretion, and their choices in that regard can have widespread effects on a session.

they're kind of like your classic mentor archetype who teaches or reveals knowledge that has a big impact on the plot. that doesn't mean they have to be actual teachers or academic types, it just means they typically orchestrate events indirectly, or at least tend to excel when doing so. (that's unrelated to combat, though - rose and terezi show us that a seer can be quite a fearsome foe when needed!)

void is the aspect of the unknown and unseen. it deals with absence and lack, irrelevance and unimportance, nonexistence and obscurity, loss, and all things hidden. it also touches on potential, which kind of ties into nonexistence - if void is everything that doesn't exist, then it should be within a void player's power to utilize those nonexistent things. this makes it a very vague and broad sort of aspect, covering anything that isn't, while also relating to things that are but that you just can't see or don't know about. (if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, can a void player manipulate the sound?)

follow me under the readmore where i'll explore the combination of these components! :3

a seer is usually someone who, for one reason or another, seeks out their aspect in some way. this could be because they lack it, like with rose, who was deeply affected by the absence of things like attention, relevance and clarity in her life. her mother's actions were inscrutable to her, the knowledge of what exactly her guardian was doing or what she meant by it always eluding her (even though in reality it was usually fairly straightforward and there weren't any secret motivations to uncover - so some parts of this lack of aspect could probably be perceived instead of actual).

for a seer of void, they could lack privacy, maybe, forced into the spotlight. or in a similar vein, it could be secrecy/confidentiality they want. but this seeking of aspect could also be for a multitude of other reasons - regardless of whether they lack void, they probably still desire to find it, possibly due to a sort of idealization of it. terezi was dedicated to JUST1C3, a concept tied to the mind aspect through the link between choices and their consequences, while rose aspired to appear knowledgeable and perceptive - seen with her dabbling in various aspects of literature and psychoanalysis - as well as showing a fixation on the idea of relevance with her quest to give meaning and importance to her seemingly doomed session (and definitely also with the psychoanalysis again, pestering dave semi-ironically about dream symbolism and freudian slips.)

a seer of void might just really want to live up to an ideal of mystery and intrigue. they might value that sort of thing highly, and in that case it would probably be an important part of their overall philosophy. maybe they're a very theatrical sort of person who's always waiting for the right moments to dramatically reveal a plot twist they'd kept hidden. they could enjoy keeping others in the dark, being the only one who knows important info, and in that way they may be a bit of a manipulator, though not necessarily for nefarious purposes. on the other hand, they might not know any secrets at all, but they deceive others into thinking they have information and power. they'd be a master of bluffing, lying about what they know in order to convince people to tell them things. lies of omission would be right up their alley too, i imagine - what they don't say turns out to be just as important as what they do say.

or, to take it in a different direction that's more focused on potential and hidden things, perhaps they strongly believe there is a hidden meaning or purpose to everything. that could look a lot like rose in some ways, but maybe instead of trying to discover the meaning behind things, they're more the type to see meaning where there is none and not investigate further, instead just seeking out things that seem to have some secret to them without considering whether they really do. they may struggle with chasing after red herrings, be convinced an item has special powers just because it looks like it should, or fall into despair when it turns out that one terrible event really did happen for no reason. that concept could tie into the fact that a seer's hubris is inevitably their downfall, even if only temporarily; the seer of void might lead their team on a wild goose chase, thinking there must be something at the end of it for sure and turning out to be wrong, wasting everyone's precious time. it also plays on the whole "seer of nothing" thing, since the path they thought would help was actually more or less just an unlucky guess.

expanding on that, maybe they don't seem to have any special sight at first. they could be overcompensating for that by examining everything way too hard and convincing themselves that there's some secret or sign to be found everywhere they look. it may even be that they are seeing signs, but that they're signs of what could potentially be, not what is, and they have to learn to see the path to making that potential into a reality. that might sound kind of seer of hope-y, and it could probably work for that too, but void and hope kinda overlap there - i distinguish "potential" from "possibility", with potential being the ability/capacity for something that hasn't happened to happen, and a possibility being a specific outcome that could occur but might not. so a possibility has the potential to happen! but it definitely doesn't need to be defined that way - these things should be interpreted in whatever way feels right to you.

it's also worth noting that it can be a little hard to distinguish a seer of void from a seer of light. they could have near identical abilities or tendencies, depending on the person and how they view/approach their own aspect. i think paired aspects like light and void are more similar than they are different, and it really shows here. that being said, i'll give some brief ideas for powers here in the next paragraph, since this is getting long:

first of all, night vision, obviously. more esoterically, they could be able to navigate locations they've never been to, precisely because they're unknown - they're the knower of the unknown, after all, which makes things a little redundant (and also hard to pin down in a way that doesn't make them straight up omniscient). being able to sense when someone is lying, telling a half-truth, or deliberately leaving things out. maybe looking into their eyes makes you want to tell them your secrets/be honest! i feel like they could potentially be able to see entities like brain ghost dirk, since he "doesn't exist", or maybe even ghosts because they're incorporeal? they might be able tell when something Isn't present that Should be, seeing absence. like, they can just sense (or even visually see) that there's supposed to be a book in this specific spot on the bookshelf and oh look, finding the right book and putting it back opened a secret passageway! :0

hopefully this doesn't suck too bad x_x it's 5am lmao

[thewildwaffle]

Ghost Busters

A prompt from user Kelly on ao3

Edit: I didn't originally mean for this to get spooky, but it did. Maybe reconsider reading this at night if you get easily spooked

***

Desan looked over the calendar. Booked out for another two moors. Wow. She really thought clients would have started going elsewhere once they found out the wait was more than a decacycle or two. They must be getting desperate.

The comm lines rang again. It seemed like they rang more often than they were quiet lately. Desan eyed the calendar again before she picked up the call.

“Hello, AIM Inspections, Desan speaking, how many I help you today?”

“Hi, I was told you offer haunting inspections?” The voice on the other line sounded gruff and a little tired. “We’ve had a flarg of an attempt trying to hire lately and our crew’s numbers are starting to dwindle fast.”

Desan nodded, even though the caller obviously couldn’t see. Here we go with another one. “Yes, we offer supernatural analysis inspections. I must warn you now that we are booked out until mid-Corruse on the Burnti calendar.”

The caller sighed and hummed for a bit. “That’s not as soon as I’d like, but honestly, you’re the third place I’ve called and that’s the soonest I’ve heard. What do you need from me to get started?”

“Well,” Desan pulled up a form on her track tablet, “I’ve just got a few questions, get a bit of information, then I’ll send you a form fill and I’ll get you on the schedule. First off, to whom am I speaking, and may I ask what alerted you to the need for our services?”

“Riord Esh, operations manager for the Bantar outer fleet. And I'd say we were alerted the same way as most people, I’d wager,” the gruff voice drawled out. “Tried hiring some humans, but they claimed our ships were haunted. That's since spread around. No one wants to work on a ship where even humans are scared if you know what I mean."

"I do, yes that's been a pretty common problem we've been hearing."

"Have you been able to fix this? I mean for the ships you have done the inspections for?"

"Oh yes, we've got a 100% ghost-free guarantee. Now, if I can get a bit of info from you, I can go ahead and get you scheduled for mid-Corruse."

The rest of the call went smoothly. Before Desan hung up, she assured Riord Esh that, should another client cancel, they would be moved up in the queue, to which they were grateful.

And with that, another client on the long, long list.

Desan had helped out on some of the inspections, and with all the demand lately, would probably continue doing so. It was a bit of extra pay, so she certainly had no issue with the extra work. It also had the added benefit of being quite interesting.

For the vast majority of "haunted" ships, the supernatural inspections ran almost identically to normal ship inspections. It was funny how often "sudden cold spots" were just a simple draft, or feelings of paranoia or being watched turned out to be caused by a previously undetected gas leak. The initial inspectors would simply write up a report detailing fixes needed and boom. Suddenly the ship no longer has a hard time finding a crew to hire.

But there were exceptions. The kind of exceptions that really threw a rock into their otherwise simple business model.

Before this job, Desan did not consider herself to be superstitious in any way. She still adamantly claimed to not believe in ghosts and haunts and spookums. But even she had to second-guess her stance when some of her inspector coworkers came back from some of their more… problematic jobs.

There were things that just didn’t make sense. Unsettling things. Usually involving some unfortunate or tragic circumstance. They were the things that couldn’t be satisfyingly brushed off as hallucinations of over-worked or mourning brains.

One in the particular job still gave her shivers. She’d been asked to join an inspection tour on one of the largest ships their company has done to date. It was a new, fresh off the assembly line, Booletean Cruiser Class 6. The ship's sheer size meant more hands were needed for the inspection crew to get everything checked out. Even then it still took an entire day cycle just to get through everything. And what a day it was.

The ship, again, was new. It should have had no issues. However, upon checking some of the paperwork for its production, it turned out that only some of the parts were completely new.

There’d been a terrible crash a decacycle or two before. Another Booletean Cruiser Class 6 had crashed. The Bayjee Disaster. There were survivors, but far more lives were lost. It was a tragic accident, a perfect storm of circumstances mixed with just enough miscommunication that caused it all.

While sifting through the wreckage, it was discovered that some of the parts of the ship were still in good condition. After intense inspection and testing, they were eventually used in the construction of another Booletean Cruiser.

The very one Desan and her company had been hired to inspect.

They checked everywhere. There were no gas leaks to explain why crew members would feel paranoid or even panicked, insisting that they were not alone when no one else was there.

There was nothing wrong with the pipes in the boiler room, even though engineers insisted that they would hear unexplained banging and screeching metal near the end of their shifts. Always twenty mentiks before their shifts ended. It never mattered what time of the day cycle they were working, it was always twenty mentiks before the end of their shift.

From the investigation, it was widely claimed that the chain of events that led to the Bayjee crashing had taken about twenty mentiks to come to fruition.

But one of the worst aspects of the “haunted” ship was something Desan and her team hadn’t experienced with other ship inspections.

Several crew members, passengers, and even a few kloxan dignitaries had claimed that they had seen the Bayjee captain aboard their ship. They claimed they’d seen her face quite clearly. She never said anything, she never interacted with anyone, she’d just be there. And then she’d be gone like someone had flipped a switch and turned off some sort of ghostly projector.

There were official reports of these sightings, several in fact, most of which were made by otherwise level-headed individuals that would have nothing to gain by falsifying such reports.

They spent far longer on this inspection than they had on any other project. With other jobs starting to pile up in the meantime, a decision was ultimately made to remove the parts of the ship that were originally part of the Bayjee and replace them with identical parts fresh off the assembly line.

All reports of any “haunting” phenomena immediately stopped.

Desan decided to stick to her office post after that. She still claimed to be a skeptic of the claims of the supernatural, and in most cases, she was. Being so was now part of her line of work. But even she had to admit that in the vastness of space and within all the realms of possibility, there was much that was beyond her understanding.

The comm lines rang again, pulling her out of her musings. With a sigh, she stretched and eyed the very full calendar before answering the call. “Hello, AIM Inspections, Desan speaking, how many I help you today?”

[papaya-inspiration]

Hi! How are you doing? Have you published a lot of papers? That sounds really cool! How long does the whole process take, if you don't mind me asking?

Hey puppy! I'm doing pretty well. Been working on a new side project that's got me very jazzed lately (but don't tell my supervisor, because it's not strictly what they're paying me to work rn jkjkj XD)

Have you published a lot of papers?

The answer is... yes and no. I only have one first author paper right now--that means that I lead and did the majority of the work and writing myself. I also have one 2nd author and one 3rd author paper, which is honestly a bit behind where I wanted to be at this point in grad school. I'll be applying to post doctoral positions in the fall, and it would have been really nice to have a few more papers that I was the lead on under my belt before I get there. Unfortunately, it takes a long time to push a project through the publication process, and my current projects probably won't quite get there in time for applications. (I've got one and a half that I still kind of have hope for. We'll see.)

That said, I'm on over two dozen other papers. I'm an observational astronomer, and for several years now I've volunteered to take survey data on one of the large groundbased telescopes. What this means is that every so often I stay up all night operating the telescope and taking data for other people. (This happens remotely over zoom and an ssh terminal window, I don't actually get to go to the telescope.) In return, the people who use that data give me authorship on their paper. I'm not usually involved in the data analysis, but my name is on there! Separately, I'm part of a few large collaborations where I help with target vetting or data cleaning, and I also get offered authorship for that work too.

How long does the whole process take, if you don't mind me asking?

Oh gosh. A long ass time. Then double it. First you have to do all the data analysis, which always takes three times as long as you expect it to. Then you have to write the paper, which you usually do simultaneously with redoing a bunch of the analysis because you realize there are a bunch of other angles to cover. Then you send out the paper to co-authors and give them anywhere from two-weeks to a month to review it and send you comments. Sometimes this results in more redoing of analysis. If the edits are substantial enough, you send it around for another round of comments. Then you submit it to the journal, who can take anywhere up to a few months to match you with a referee, who reads your paper and sends you back additional comments. Then you have a few months to do revisions and apply their suggested changes, send it around to co-authors for comments again, and then send it back in. Sometimes there is a second round of refereeing, though that isn't common. Then it goes to proof and, eventually is published.

The whole process, starting from when you "finish" the analysis and the first draft of the paper writing, can take anywhere from a few months to a few years. It varies by journal as well. Publishing in high profile journals like Science and Nature can take a notoriously long time. (I am on one paper in Science, and it nearly two years from the first time we submitted it to when it appeared in print.) That said, shorter papers in more specialized journals can go through in just a few months. And there are other options, like research notes (which don't get peer reviewed) that go up even faster.