#or if i had by chance i probably wouldn't have been that interested based on the summaries

[rogersstevie]

told two ppl about rereading the foxhole court which ofc no one knows what it is and i’m like LET ME TELL YOU

#man i just think about 2016 if i hadn't been following a group of ppl on here i wouldn't have ever heard of that or captive prince #or if i had by chance i probably wouldn't have been that interested based on the summaries #and nowadays like it's not like i don't find books i love but neither of those are super well known #and i'm just like there could be unknown series i could love like that and i no longer have those ppl on here to recommend them #like i don't wanna be pretentious but like i only see ppl talk about pretty mainstream series #and as i said i do end up liking them #but i haven't felt about any series anything like i did about those two in all these years lmao #most recently the closest has probably been shadow and bone and i haven't read them all yet but the shopaholic books are fun #but those are very different vibes wise #to all the boys and the raven cycle are def close too actually the way i felt reading tatbilb was like. #could not stop. #BUT i haven't reread and considering how much i hated the summer trilogy i'm wondering if i'll still love tatbilb as much #but yeah i just want to lose my mind over a romance series again that's all

[yanwriter-archive]

Can I request a yan! Soap, Ghost, and König all liking the same reader? Maybe they have a shared dislike for a new soldier trying to hit on her

Three stones, one bird.

Warnings: Obsessive love, Gore, manipulation

God must have cursed the blood in your veins for you to have caught the attention of three violent, scary, men like Soap, Ghost and König. Whether you think they could share is up to your personal wants, but once an outsider comes in view, especially someone as lowly as a rookie recruit? Their plans are now on hold until this problem is taken care of.

Soap is the most vocal of his distaste at first. It comes off of a casual jealousy, and it can even be seen as cute or silly. Yet, the pure hatred in his eyes tell a whole different story then what he lets on.

König tends to let it boil inside. Honestly, if you didn't see how intense his stare was when you were talking to them, you wouldn't know at all how he was feeling. That's how he wants it.

Ghost understands, he really does. Being on base so long and seeing someone as attractive as you? He can't fault them at all. But his tightly closed fists hovering over his knife when the recruit gets a little too close reminds them that it doesn't matter if he understands.

Now, the recruit still proceeds. Does he really think he can go up agist them? That he actually has a chance? Or is he just stupid. It really doesn't matter, because they take it as a threat.

-

The night is dark, and the chilly air slowly seeps into the building, leaving a draft. The hallway is dim, and most people have already left. You would have left too if the new recruit, Kevin, hadn't stopped you.

"Sorry, you're probably in a hurry to get back," he chuckles softly.

You shake your head. "It's okay, what did you need?"

"Well, I just wanted to..." His eyes raise up and he notices someone behind you. Before you can look, he continues in a much more confident manner. "Would you like to go out this Saturday?"

You pause to think about it. "Yeah, okay, sounds like fun!"

He glances back behind you, a prideful look in his eyes.

"Great! I'll text you the information!" He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your knuckle. "Until then, love." He leaves, giving a wink to the person behind you.

You turn to leave, realizing that Simon was behind you.

"Sorry! Didn't see you there!" You give a polite smile and head on your way.

Simon stays there for a while, his dark eyes lacking any emotion.

Ah, so not only is he an idiot, but he also thinks he has a chance and wants to brag about it.

Simon waits for a moment more before pulling out his phone.

-

Kevin awakes at the loud bang at his door. Slowly, he walks to the door. He knows who it is. You can't flirt with Ghost's interest and get away with it, but he knew that. Kevin almost laughs at how predictable Ghost is.

"I was wondering when you were going to show-" His words were knocked out of his mouth as soon as his door was opened. He didn't predict that Soap and König would be on the other side.

Blood leaked out of his mouth where soap had hit him, and he wondered if he really did fuck up.

"What happened to your smugness? Thought you were askin' for a fight?" Soap stepped into his room. "I've been wantin' to do this for a long while." Soap says, stretching out the word long.

"Pathetic." König's voice rung out, rattling Kevins body. "You thought you were actually good enough for them? You aren't even good enough to feed the worms that live underneath the soil they stand on."

"Are you seriously doing this because of one person? You're fucking crazy." Kevin spits out some blood, "Listen I'm sorry, I was just trying to bang a hot-" His voice was cut off once again by soap's fist, sending him lying on the floor.

"Maybe you only hang around sleezy people, but they aren't somethin' you just bang." Soap sends another punch, this time sending two teeth down Kevin's throat. "Scum."

His scream rings out as König's heavy boot comes down on his leg, a sicking snap following. "It's also unforgivable if you say that you just want to fool her and break her heart."

The sheer force of König's stomp had broken his leg in half.

A new voice appears, as loud footsteps enter the room.

"You learn your lesson?" Simon questions, his eyes holding that same look as before.

"Yes! Please stop, please!" Kevin cries out.

"Good." Simon reaches a hand for Kevin to take. He grabs it, hoping to be pulled up and brought to get help, but his hope is crushed when Ghost yanks him, twisting his arm and swiftly breaking it too.

"Stay the fuck away from them."

-

You were feeling sour as Sunday arrived. Kevin had gotten into a fight with another new recruit and ended up with a broken arm and leg. On top of that, he would rather run away than admit that he completely ignored you all week.

Your mood shifted when Soap suggested hanging out with Ghost, König, and him. That sounded better than spending time with someone like Kevin. Besides, you always felt safer when you were with them.

At least that's what they wanted you to think.

A/N Note: I'm not feeling this one, but I figured I post it anyways.

#yandere #yandere cod #yandere call of duty #yandere x reader #call of duty x reader #anon #yandere ghost #yandere simon riley #yandere konig #yandere soap

[thats-godscomma]

Since rewatching Psych, I've been thinking about how weird and arbitrary Shawn's interests are. Sure, late 2000's writing had something to do with it, and maybe a bit of Henry and Gus's influence, but hearing Shawn be so vocal about how he hates certain popular things or (more importantly) refuses to give them a chance BUT at the same time knowing so many pop culture references, it got me thinking.

What if the reason Shawn has so many pop culture references on hand is because of his eidetic memory, and he doesn't actually have as much of an interest in pop culture? Throughout the show, he actively avoids getting roped into big interests and franchises (see: comic books, soap operas, etc.) despite the fact that he genuinely seems excited once he's part of it. In fact, we don't get to see a lot of Shawn's interests at all unless it's based on an idea.

Take being a bounty hunter, for example. According to him, he's obsessed with the idea, but he doesn't make many references to an actual bounty hunter show or franchise. Instead, he just remembers the one bounty hunter he saw as a child and maybe references a movie or two. Because once he remembers something, he's never going to forget it, or at least not for a very long time.

That's why he thinks in references. Everything is a reference if you have a good enough memory. Everything reminds you of something. If Shawn hears someone make a Spock reference, it's in his repertoire forever. But he wouldn't be caught dead watching the shows or movies because that's just too much information. Why on earth would he endure that?

Of course, it also intertwines with his ADHD. He has bouts of energy and trouble focusing. He can't sit still to save his life, and he hyperfixates...or he would if his memory didn't make him averse to it. So if he doesn't want to hyperfixate on an information-based interest, then what does he hyperfixate on? Physical activities. Instead of learning about his favorite daredevil, he tries to be one himself. When he learns about oil rigs, he doesn't get a book from the library. He tries to find oil in his backyard.

This is also where he and Henry differ regarding Shawn's "potential." Henry is correct when he talks about Shawn's "wasted" potential, but he doesn't understand the toil of having this eidetic memory and ADHD. Here's what I think happened: Henry probably noticed Shawn's stellar memory at a young age, realized he has a gift, spoke with his wife about her eidetic memory, learned that you need to challenge your child's eidetic memory at a young age or it'll go away, started the hat game to make it fun and exciting, but then Shawn's ADHD appeared. Suddenly, it made him much harder to raise (because let's be real, Shawn was not an easy child.) Henry didn't know what he was doing anymore, and since it was the 80's, he didn't have the resources to properly understand his kid's behavior, so he tried to find a common interest, and started training Shawn to be a detective "because kids love cop shows." But Shawn struggled to stay attached to one single interest, and when he grew up, he stopped trying to articulate his problems because his mom (the only person who remotely understood his struggles) left, and he blamed his dad for it.

And academics? Those are a joke because what is the point of studying if he already remembers everything? Until, of course, he needs to apply it to a problem-solving test or writing an essay. Suddenly, he's memorizing a math teacher's answer sheet and copying Gus's report.

Yes, Shawn could have been a great cop. He could be an amazing scientist or anything really. He could have been a national spelling bee champion like Gus wanted to be. Even 15 years later, Shawn remembered exactly what word Gus messed up, how to spell the word, and what letter he made Gus slip up, but he didn't want to be on that stage with Gus because that requires so much learning. And so much time. And so much memorizing. And he refuses to sit still for that long when he knows that overloading his head is going to give him migraines.

Also his "I've heard it both ways" probably comes from the fact that people with eidetic memory can still make lots of mistakes if they don't actively commit something to memory. If Shawn only overhears something, he'll still naturally try to fill in the gaps like everyone else, but because he's so confident in his memory, he just believes what he remembers to be true, leading him to repeat incorrect information with confidence. That could also be why some of his references are incorrect due to mixed-up homophones.

Anyway, this post was supposed to be about how Shawn is just a walking movie reference because his memory won't let him forget quotes, but then I fell into a rabbit hole of the negative effects of having an eidetic memory as a child, and I am very passionate about how Henry actually tried his best, and people need to stop calling him a horrible parent. Love y'all. Let me know what you think.

#i just care a lot about the real-life consequences of having an eidetic memory combined with ADHD #psych #psych tv #psych usa #shawn spencer #henry spencer #burton guster #eidetic memory #long post

[dcxdpdabbles]

thought: what if jason had the ability to see ghosts but only when tired. so he ends up thinking he’s hallucinating and doesn’t tell anyone because thats tims thing

There is a little girl singing nursery rhythms and spinning in small circles. Now usually, Jason wouldn't find that too out of place. Kids always found the strangest things entertaining.

No, what was strange was that the little girl was floating just above the rails of the stairway. She looks like a poorly edited clip slapped onto the backdrop of the gala he has been dragged to.

She's wearing a red dress and a large bow in her hair that seems to have been stolen from Alice on her way to Wonderland. Her skin had a greenish hue, and a slight glow was coming off her, reminding Jason of a miniature night light.

"Huh," He mumbles, taking another sip of the water he picked up. Bruce is the one who pretends to get sloppy drunk at all the parties, while in comparison, Jason has gained a reputation for never touching alcohol. It says a lot about how powerful the Waynes are if his presence ensures the hosts have other refreshments ready for him.

This means that the little girl is not a drunken hallucination. Maybe he's more tired than he thought.

"What is it?" Tim asks to his side. His disgusting CEO smile is still firmly in place, a twist of the lips that belie the hidden tension. Tim would appear relaxed and enjoying the party like any other elite if anyone glanced in their direction. "Trouble?"

The little girl is sticking her tongue out at some teenagers heading her way. She's not doing anything but making faces at random guests that walk by. "I don't think so."

"What is it then?"

Jason had a choice here. He could mention the little girl, but that would mean admitting he could see her. Based on the way, literally, no one is reacting; he's the only one that can.

She's likely another hallucination.

Jason has been getting those since he was young, usually due to a lack of sleep. Just last week, he saw a butcher wandering the streets of Gotham, wearing the highest heels he had ever seen. That had been after the five-day mission with the OutLaws, where he thinks he only had a chance to sleep maybe three times.

He should go home before the little girl starts doing something weird.

Not that he would ever let the rest of the family know, especially Tim. Seeing things that aren't there is Tim's thing, and Jason has teased him too often over the years about it to start admitting he's got the condition too.

He nods his head at the teenagers. Tim turns his body slightly, allowing his gaze to take in what he's looking at without making it obvious he's staring. Apparently, he can't make it known he's interested in someone. Ugh, another rule of high society that Jason will never bother to understand. "I've never seen them before."

He means the two accompany Samatha Manson. He's aware of the inventor's granddaughter, seeing as her family had ties with the Waynes, distant as they may be. It was Waynes who bought the rights to her grandfather's inventions many years ago, and his son was the one that started investing in some smaller shell companies of Waynes, further building the family fortune.

Jason didn't see her often at galas because while the Mansons were wealthy, they were new money. They had no connections, mannerisms, or mindset to be welcomed by the elites.

"Daniel Fenton and Tucker Foley. Foley is in the brown suit, Fenton is the one in the black one." Tim identifies quickly. He probably went over the gala invitation guest list to memorize everyone attending even though it wasn't a gala they were hosting. "Her best friends. Nothing that stands out too much about them except for Fenton. His parents are independent ghost hunters and researchers."

Jason blinks down at this brother. "Ghost hunters?"

Both brothers know how real ghosts can be in their line of work, seeing as Deadman has helped them with some cases before. Still, it's surprising to find civilians who are that close to the undead.

"More Ghostbusters than actual hunters." Tim shrugs when he gets a confused frown. "I looked into them to make sure Fenton over there wouldn't be a danger once in Gotham. His parents' inventions are marketed as ghost-hunting equipment but are authentic weapons. He's been known to show signs of rouge potential behavior."

Jason looks back at the black hair boy who is......talking to the little girl? Or trying to? She is spinning again, floating up to the chandelier, not caring for the teenage boy leaning over the railing towards her as Foley and Manson stand guard. If they trying to be inconspicuous, they are doing a poor job.

Jason spots Damian approaching the trio with a tense set of his shoulders. His youngest brother taps his finger against the glass in his hand in a specific rhythm.

If any of the Bats have seen Damian- which is all of them, given that everyone in the family always keeps an eye on Damian at galas- they have all been told the same message.

Possible jumper.

Granted, without the little girl, it looks like Fenton wants to take a leap over the railing. That's worrying.

Tim proves this by tilting his chin slightly in their direction, shoulders also tense. "Let's go."

Jason follows after Tim, trying his best to not make it obvious they are freaking out about a possible tragedy about to happen. Damian, thankfully, has already reached the teenagers but is stalled by Manson.

He can't hear what she's saying, but she's matching Damian's angry scowl with her own. Seeing the only two goth kids standing off with each other is hilarious.

Damian had told Bruce a few months back that he wanted to try and change his civilian persona a bit and had taken their dad's credit card with Raven to do shopping.

He's come back as a goth, giving Bruce a near heart attack, as Damian changed out all his suits to have a scull somewhere on his person at all times. Jason thought it was the best cover plan the brat could have ever done.

Mason's right eye twitches when she sees them, but other than glaring harshly, she doesn't say anything as they come up to stand behind Damian. Tim is in the perfect place to sludge for Fenton should the boy throw himself over. Jason is to tackle the two teenagers should they try to stop his brother.

"Dude, it's okay. Danny always does that," Foley assures as they finally climb up to them. "He's really into, ugh, parkour."

"It's dangerous," Damian particularly bites. Looks like someone needs more sensitive training.

Fenton stops trying to lean over the rail to glance over his shoulder to Damian. "I'm okay. Thank you for worrying about me, though."

Jason is standing in the prime location to see Damian's haughty expression melt away into startled wonder. He watches a tiny bit of red appear on the cheekbones of his youngest brother, and for a moment, all Jason can think is how much he will have fun teasing the boy later.

Gosh, if he wasn't so tired he would realize he wasn't the only one who noticed.

"He's red like a tomato!" A feminine voice chirps, and he can't help but laugh at the comment. Damian's face is slowly turning redder by the curious head tilt Fenton does in his direction. Cute.

"You got that right, kiddo, so red he's ripe for the picking. " Jason smirks down at his brother, who, for his part, dares to look confused.

"What are you babbling about?" Damian snaps as Tim's intense eyes swing over the boy's head to lock gazes with Jason.

"What the girl said"

"I didn't say anything," Manson denies, and Jason finally realizes he has responded to the little girl, who is grinning ear from ear. Shit.

"Oh." Fenton nods, stepping down the railing to look Jason dead in the eye and smile. "You see dead people."

"Cool, one of us. One of us." Foley chants with a grin, and even Mason seems to relax more, going from irritated to indifferent. The teenager stops his chat when the three brothers fail to find humor.

Danny just smiles near-vacantly, which causes Damian to look hot under the collar.

Maybe Jason should leave to take a nap in the safety of his room because he does not have the time to unpack all of this.

"Maybe we should find Bruce," Tim says after a moment, and that is when the little girl choices to fly right up to Tim and flick his ear. Tim startles so hard he slams into Damian, who loses his footing and falls over. Jason is fast enough to catch him before he rolls down the stairs.

Danny giggles, and for the first time since he's known Damian, he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him hole. What a weird night for Jason.

"What the hell was that?" Tim mumbles, looking around.

Manson grins a sharp, wicked thing. "A ghost"

"Of course it is." Tim sighs then he gives Jason a near-eye glare. "How long have you been able to see ghosts?"

"Honestly? Probably since I was six. I thought they were hallucinations."

"And why did you not tell anyone about having what you thought were lifelong hallucinations?"

"I'm not you. Hallucinations are your weird thing. Mine are guns."

"I like them," Fenton announces, and the other two finally step back. Only then does he come to the startling observation that Manson and Feley had been acting like bodyguards by placing themselves between Fenton and the Waynes?

What a strange night indeed.

"Todd, let me up!"

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #pre-Dead Serious #Jason sees dead people #But doesn't tell anyone cause he's pity #Danny and co are just trying to tell the little ghost girl to move

[sysmedsaresexist]

Changing mindsets, from a Real Anti Endo™️

The Release of the (Pro/Endo) Golden Goose

I hope everyone from all sides will give this important, heartfelt post a read.

It's likely something you'll want to be aware of if you have a vested interest in syscourse and the validity of endogenic systems. Please give this a chance.

It's been almost three years since I started my blogs. Wow. I've been on tumblr a hell of a lot longer, but I really wasn't involved in the system community. I started out firm and loud. I probably inadvertently fakeclaimed (I went into this with the rule that I would NOT directly tell anyone they were faking, it was a boundary that I knew would ruin me socially if I crossed it, but I'm sure I probably did without meaning to), I name called and made fun of people and things. I was disrespectful to people. I invaded tags to get my message out there, though I was quick to stop once I realized I was making the tags unusable for the community I claimed to want to protect.

I learned very quickly what was appropriate and what wasn't, what I could get away with and what I couldn't. It started to become a numbers game, influenced by the risk of the post.

I made a lot of friends and a lot of enemies, and I amassed a following of over 2k. More people have come and gone from my little community than I ever thought possible. People made fanart of me, and I cherish those so deeply. I have over 300 asks because I struggle to delete the ones thanking me.

And the more I was thanked, the nicer I got, the more thanks, the nicer I got, rinse and repeat until I had trouble NOT empathizing with pro/endos. The more I was willing to listen, the more legitimate sources I came across that disproved my original ideas about consciousness. The people sharing the sources were more respectful than I thought they'd be. Things were starting to look a bit cloudy.

I talked to my colleagues about how they, as therapists, would handle some of these endos in their practice, and while their belief in the concept varied, kindness and attempts to understand was the consistent answer. When had I lost that kindness and understanding that had driven me to that field to begin with?

Colleagues, yes. For those who don't know, I have a degree in social services and counselling (plus three other degrees). It's why the current situation with the antis turning on me is so funny. I still can't get into the mindset of some of these new anti endos, I just can't imagine justifying that level of cruelty. I had lines that I wouldn't cross, and I didn't think people could be worse than me.

... That might have been a trauma thing, looking back on it.

So I got desperate.

I spoke to the actual doctors who wrote some of these papers all of us are quoting. Everyone was arguing the meaning of the words, so I went directly to the source.

Dr Colin Ross, who wrote about endogenous multiplicity in the 80s. I told him everything-- about plurals, non-traumagenic systems, syscourse, what was being debated, how I and others interpreted his words, and what I wanted to learn.

Was plurality only trauma based?

And back and forth and back and forth we went, with me asking over and over again in different ways, NEEDING to hear that it was.

But I never got that answer. He meant what he meant. He said what he said and he meant it.

That plurality was not only found in the aftermath of trauma.

And I said nothing to anyone because I couldn't reconcile it.

Don't try to read between the lines, I assure you, there isn't some hidden meaning to be found there. I can't share all of the messages because some contained personal information, but my final response will tell you all you need to know.

(It did NOT, in fact, make sense, and it took me three years to "rethink my paper" that endogenic plurality wasn't possible, I did not win that conversation, it was a dying stance that was not supported)

I've been accused of paying too much attention to my follower count, but I can't really help it. It's really scary when you make a post and see a sizeable drop. It means a lot of different things. My posts have less reach and support. I've upset people. I've done something wrong. My community is leaving me.

I'm in a weird spot, where I'm blocked by so much of the pro/endo community that I have nothing to join, and the anti endo community, who I still wholeheartedly support, continues to leave me for -checks smudged writing on hand- being too nice??

Misinformation about DID is a massive problem, and it's why I still consider myself anti endo and support that community. I relate to them in such a way that I'll always gravitate to and empathize with them.

Or at least, that's what I thought.

At this point, though, how can I not be pro/endo when Colin fucking Ross says it's possible?

I've already written about how I'm really struggling with these labels, and I love the people that have stuck around while I struggle to figure this out.

I hurt when I see the people that once supported me leave.

My (online) world is shrinking. Literally.

That's scary.

When you've watched so many turn away, you start to wonder, with every post, where is the line where the rest are going to leave? Is it this post?

I just want to be me, us, we want to laugh at the stupid crap people say, system or not, I want to talk about my disorder, I want to combat misinformation, I want to have productive, fun conversations about ideas and concepts with people who disagree and have different interpretations. I want to play devil's advocate and get people thinking. I want to be able to comment positivity and kindness on any post I see, I want to feel comfortable talking to more people about their ideas. I sympathize with anti endos, I relate to CDD systems, I still firmly believe that CDDs and plurality are different, unrelated concepts.

My priority will always and forever be the CDD community first and foremost.

However, I am a hypocrite. I have gone straight to the horse's mouth and failed. I've seen so much research that I finally get it. I'm grappling with holding on to this conversation with Dr Ross, wondering what harm I could have prevented if I'd gone public with these emails earlier.

Since when has being open to change been a bad thing?

Since when has showing respect to lived experiences been a bad thing?

What am I? What label describes this?

How do I go forward from here?

What are you going to do with this information?

I promise you, hate isn't the way forward.

#syscourse #not syscourse #pro syscourse conversation #anti endo #pro endo #anti plural #pro plural #debunk #endogenic safe #system safe #pro system

[luna-rainbow]

RE: People giving Bucky a hard time over his "I'm invisble, I'm turning into you.." line being "selfish" That whole scene is Bucky displaying behaviour consistent with depression or traumatic stress. He's drinking by himself in an isolated area, isolating himself from social situations by not sitting with the ohers - he doesn't initiate the convo with Steve and he's apparently smoking. Although a lot of people did that then we didn't see any sign of him smoking before? Not that I recall anyway. And I don't believe he was jealous of a woman paying attention to Steve instead of him or "taking" Steve from him. Bucky's a true friend (I'm not a shipper full stop): and true friends aren't possessive nor do they take issue with you spending time with others or flirting with the same person as them.

I think Bucky was simply testing himself. He wanted to see if he could still muster the confidence and charm to convince a lady to dance with him which he'd probably never had any problems doing before. Its the first time he initiates a conversation the entire scene.

When it didn't work was when he knew there was something wrong. I don't think it was just the super-soldier serum. It's interesting that after that Steve is really the only person he interacts/talks to having been very sociable and outgoing before. Some people have also noted that his tone of voice chances as well, he seems to speak less often, more softly and his tone is quieter. So maybe "I'm turning into you" is actually a kind of role-reversal. Bucky is now the quiet, less confident, introverted one and the one who has been victimized (and is about to be again by HYDRA). Kind of interesting as well that the serum now means Steve is taller than him too.

Poor Bucky. Cut him a break and give that man a hug. And a cookie. A cookie can't hurt.

Hey nonnie, I'm not sure who's been giving Bucky a hard time over the "I'm invisible" speech but I'm glad I haven't seen it XD

I had a meta a while ago about that particular line. It's not a fixed headcanon by any means, I was just running with the flow of Bucky's thoughts to see how he might have ended up in that moment.

And yeah, I agree, I think he was in a very vulnerable place at that time. Not just what he went through during imprisonment, but he's also traumatised by what he's seen so far in the war, and now someone who matters very much to him is in danger (Steve) and he can't do anything about it. I'm basing my projections on what Sebastian had said about Bucky in the "let's hear it for Captain America" scene -- that no, he wasn't jealous of Steve in that moment, he was just horrified he wouldn't be able to protect him anymore. He's torn between admiring Steve for the courage, and the very realistic fears of seeing Steve come to harm, but he also knows Steve too well to talk him out of it. So he's not in the best headspace in that moment.

I do want to gently disagree in that jealousy in a friendship doesn't make it less pure or less good, it's simply a very human response to what is at its heart a fear of abandonment. Even if you logically understand that you need to let your friend have other relationships, you can still feel jealous if that eats up time you'd normally have with your friend, and apprehensive about what else you might lose. It's what you do with those emotions that defines your morality. This is why a lot of fans say that Bucky has had a villain origin story but has come out the other end a hero -- he's gone through an arc of loss and fear and jealousy, but come out the other side still staunchly Steve's friend, and that's a heroic arc.

As always I think Sebastian did a fantastic job with Bucky. The change in Bucky pre-war and post-war is considerable.

His voice is lower and coarser, his mannerisms are much more "schooled" rather than boyish, it screams less bravado and more of a quiet assurance, and that frown never lifts from his brows. But yeah, a lot of that is battle-hardened professionalism, but I think a lot of that is also Sebastian factoring in Bucky's mental health. And his eyes are on Steve a lot more even when they're not conversing -- shipping angle aside, Steve is his commanding officer, and my other thought is that...his eyes are always on Steve because the danger to Steve is much higher now, and he's always made it his personal mission to make sure Steve's going to be okay.

(I mean there's also a lot we can say, or has been said, about that particular scene in terms of male writers writing female love interest badly, but that's an entirely different topic)

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #asks #sebastian stan

[unseededtoast]

Begin Again | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: Based off Hozier’s song “All Things End”. In which things abruptly ended between you and Spencer, and you’ve never been able to reconcile your emotions over the relationship, or losing him. When presented a second chance on a silver platter, you’re grateful for the chance to begin again.

Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!

wc: 9.2k

warnings: a lot of angst, that's about it.

a/n: and here i am again with another Hozier/Spencer collab. I promise the next one isn't going to be Hozier inspired lol, and I hope not to take two weeks to get the next out, but thank you for reading, it means the world:)

In one single night, the life you had worked so hard for has crumbled right in front of you. All the plans for the future, slipping right through your fingers.

If you had known five years ago where your dream job would lead you, you don't think you would have taken it. In fact, you would've went running in the opposite direction of the FBI's Quantico office, never to step a foot over the threshold. And maybe things would have been better that way, but there's no way to know.

Sure, you loved the job, adored it even. You took pride in knowing that you've saved people and locked the bad guys away, never to see the light of day again. And you loved your team, well, some more than others; but that was five years ago by now. You thought you had left it all behind but here you sit, waiting for your old boss to show up at a restaurant he made reservations at.

Your foot nervously taps against the floor, not entirely sure what to expect. You hadn't heard from anyone on the team in years, and out of the blue your old supervisor wants to meet? It probably doesn't mean anything good. But thankfully, your mind doesn't have to race for much longer as you see your old supervisor, Hotch, walk through the glass doors. You stand to shake his hand, and he greets you.

"It's been a while." He says, sitting down into the chair. You nod your head, scooting your chair closer to the table.

"It sure has been." The tension in the air is palpable, your palms are sweaty and your heart races, beating erratically in your chest.

"How has life been treating you?" He eases into the conversation, sipping on the water the waitress had dropped off before he arrived.

"It's been alright. Took a job as a professor." You say, skirting around the reality of what the past five years have really been like. It wouldn't be professional for you to tell Hotch your world had crashed and burned.

"That's good to hear." He smiles softly, and this time it's your turn to drink some water. You only hope he doesn't notice the tremble in your hands, but you know with his expertise he picked up on it immediately. Unable to take the suspense any longer, you speak up.

"Hotch, why did you call me here?" Your eyes bore into his as you await his answer. He clears his throat and takes a deep breath.

"There's been some changes in management since you've been gone. Strauss no longer oversees the BAU." He says, as if that's supposed to mean anything to you. You swirl the straw around in the cup, trying to give your mind something else to focus on to alleviate the overwhelming nerves.

"That's such a shame." Your voice drips with sarcasm. If you had it your way, Strauss would have fallen off the face of the planet five years ago.

"We would like to reinstate you." The straw stops swirling in the glass and it's like ice fills your veins. Lifting your gaze from the water, you see nothing but seriousness on his face.

"Reinstate me?" You're in disbelief, but Hotch nods.

"Only if you're interested." He says, sliding a file full of paperwork over to you. You open the file and see reinstatement forms waiting for you, a pen clipped to the top. Your mouth falls open in disbelief.

"I didn't think that was possible. After my suspension I was ineligible for any other federal position. So how is this happening?" You read the words on the front page of the form, unsure if you want to fill it out or not.

"I was able to pull some strings. We'd be happy to have you back." You know his words aren't entirely representative of everyone's feelings about you on the team, a pit of unease forms in your stomach the longer you look at the words.

"Well, some people maybe." You mutter, closing the file. Hotch sighs and readjusts his tie.

"The team misses you. Come by the office with me, for old time's sake if nothing else." Hotch offers, and despite the unease about seeing some of your former teammates, your curiosity and love for the job takes over.

"Sure." You agree, a part of you needing to see the office again. The office had practically been your home at one point, and now it's just a bittersweet memory.

The two of you hurry through lunch and before you know it, you're in a familiar passenger seat. Hotch's black SUV hadn't changed a bit, it's nostalgic in the best way possible. The file is clutched tightly in your grasp, your knuckles turning white as you get closer to the office. Familiar streets look the same as you remember, almost as if Quantico is stuck in time. You only hope that not everything about Quantico had been entrapped, you desperately hope that some things have changed.

Hotch parks in front of the building and your throat goes dry, your legs seemingly paralyzed, unable to move from their spot. Noticing your apprehensiveness, Hotch walks around and opens your door, offering you his hand to take. You take his hand and step out of his car, making the trip up to the BAU's office. The elevator ride is quicker than you remember and before you're mentally prepared, the doors slide open and you're met with a familiar space.

You walk behind Hotch, not being brave enough to walk in first. That, plus you're technically a visitor with no right to walk ahead of an agent. It seems the office space has also fallen victim to the time capsule effect. There's not a single desk or chair out of place. Your eyes glance around, seeing Derek's jacket slung over the back of his chair, Emily's usual coffee order beside her computer, and your old desk that sits empty. You purposefully ignore one of the desks, not having the courage to look over there.

Hotch leads you to his office and closes the door behind you. The blinds on his office windows are open, meaning anyone can look in here and see you sitting across from his desk. You're not sure if you want them to see you or not. No, you're definitely sure there's one person you don't want to see you.

"Now, I'm not asking you to make a decision right now. I know there's a lot to consider, but hear me out. I know that you did the right thing back then, if it were up to me you wouldn't have been suspended. You were one of our best and we need you back." He leans forward on his desk and you avert your gaze from him, looking down at the file on your lap. Your foot taps on the ground, mind racing a million miles a minute.

"If I do accept, I get fully reinstated?" It almost feels like a dream, you need to be sure that this is really happening.

"Fully reinstated." Hotch confirms. For the past five years this is all you've wanted, but now that you're presented with the opportunity, you can't help but wonder if the past has tarnished any chance of a new beginning or any fresh start here.

You hear an increase of voices outside of Hotch's office and you can't help but look over. Emily and Derek joke back and forth about something, each with a file in their hand. They must have just returned from a case. Following close behind is the one person you had hoped to avoid altogether, Spencer.

Your heart drops to your stomach, and it's like a bowling ball has been thrown right at your chest, knocking the air from your lungs. He's holding his own file and he takes a seat at his desk, opening the front of it up and quickly filling out the forms inside. His hair has grown out, it's curlier than you remember. And he looks more mature, his features more beautifully defined.

You remember all the mornings you would bring him coffee and all the times he would bring your favorite kind of muffin. How sometimes you'd return from a break and find that your incident report had already been completed. And then there were the times you would camp out at his desk, content to listen to him ramble about anything and everything under the sun. You always adored how animated he got when he was passionate about something, that was until the passion pivoted from topics of interest to yelling at each other in his kitchen. He sure was animated then, too.

"I can walk you out if you'd like." Hotch interrupts your staring and you blink a few times, knocking yourself out of your trance.

"Yeah, I'd like that, thank you." Your voice is hoarse and you make it your mission to keep your gaze focused on the back of Hotch's head as you exit the office. You don't miss the sudden cessation of voices as you two walk out, you can only imagine the conversations that follow your presence here.

Hotch drives you back to your car left at the restaurant and tells you to inform him of your decision, regardless of what it may be. You agree, it's the least you can do, but you don't give an indication one way or the other. Truthfully, you have no idea what you're going to decide. There are a lot of factors to consider, and Hotch knows that. He drives off and you return to your home, unable to think of anything else but the offer to be reinstated.

-----

The forms have sat on your countertop for the past three days, their presence almost suffocating you. You had tried to do other things, grade your student's papers and outline lesson plans but nothing was working. The only thing you can think of is whether or not you should take Hotch up on his offer.

Photos on your walls of the people you've saved stare back at you, their permanently smiling faces reminding you of all the good that came from the job. Your eyes move from one photo to the other, remembering each case as if it happened yesterday. Hardly anyone on the team kept photos like this, but you took inspiration from your mentor, Gideon, and admired how he was able to keep himself from getting lost in the darkness that comes with the territory of the job by reminding himself of those he saved.

While there were people you saved, there were a lot you lost as well. And you can't forget them either, no matter how hard you try. Their cries, screams, and corpses are forever tattooed in your memory and no matter the amount of time that passes, the memories never fade.

Without considering the people saved and the people lost, there's still the matter of your teammates. You had lost contact with them all after your suspension and you don't know if they'd welcome you back with open arms. Besides your suspension, there's the matter of Spencer.

Things hadn't ended well between the two of you, and you're not sure if you two could work together cohesively. Sure, everything happened five years ago but it doesn't take a genius to understand that time doesn't heal all wounds. Not wounds that cut down into someone's soul, the very fiber of their being.

You still remember the last words you ever spoke to one another, you remember the malice you held for each other. And it would be easy to place blame on either one of you, but you know deep down that it was not the sole fault of you, nor him. You each played a part in the relationship's downfall. Without thinking, you find yourself staring at an old team photo and the memory of that fateful night seeps into your mind.

-----

His hand slams down on the granite countertop, causing you to stop speaking immediately. He's never been this angry with you before, or ever, for that matter. His face is red, brows drawn tightly together, veins prominent on his forearms from the adrenaline.

"How could you have been so stupid? You knew what would happen and you did it anyways!" Spencer is trying his best not to outright scream at you, his voice is strained and you stammer to find the words. You can't believe he's actually blaming you for what you did.

"Stupid? If I hadn't done that she would have died. A five year old child would have been slaughtered in front of me. I didn't have time to think about the legality of the situation or how we could have benefitted from keeping the unsub alive, forgive me I forgot you've never made a damn mistake in your life." Anger and sarcasm thickly coat your words as you take a few steps towards him, not keeping your composure as well as him.

You had just shot a man at point blank range to save a girl's life not three hours ago, and had been suspended from the FBI for one. And here you are, having a screaming match with Spencer in his kitchen. You had expected him at least to console you, to reassure you that you had done the right thing, but instead he criticizes you.

His apartment had always been your safe haven. After particularly rough cases, the two of you would return here and hold each other close for however long it took to be okay again. He would make your favorite tea, and you would read him whatever book he wanted, wrapped up in each other's arms, safe. This place was supposed to protect you two from the horrors of the world, be your own little slice of peace. But within the blink of an eye, your safe haven turned into your own personal hell.

"He could have given us so much more information about other victims. There was no guarantee she would have died. If you would have just thought things through none of this would have happened." He shakes his head, voice dropping octaves and it chills you to your core. Your jaw sets tightly and your chest constricts with emotion. After everything you two had overcome together, you can't believe this is the last straw.

"You know what Spencer, you were the one person I thought I could count on to back me up on this." You say, taking steps back and accepting the hard reality that things can never be the same. You turn and make your way to his bedroom and find your bag at the end of the bed. In a rush, you open it and throw some of your belongings in before zipping it up and slinging it over your shoulder.

As you pass him in the kitchen you dig into your pocket and find your keys. With trembling fingers, you take the key to the apartment off the ring and toss it on the counter. Without stopping to gauge his reaction, you reach the front door and turn the handle. Before you take your last steps out of the apartment, you turn back and face him. The man you had planned a life with is now unrecognizable to you, and you force yourself not to cry in front of him. Knowing this could very well be the last time you ever see him, you find it within yourself to say something.

"What happened?" Your voice breaks, betraying your false attitude of confidence. Before he can speak, you close the door behind you and put one foot in front of the other with no destination in mind.

In one single night, the life you had worked so hard for has crumbled right in front of you. All the plans for the future, slipping right through your fingers.

-----

Your fingers ghost over the picture frame, and a lone tear streams down your cheek. It's hard saying how many tears you've shed over the entire situation, and you're sure this won't be the last.

After a while, you find yourself on your couch, snuggled underneath a faux fur blanket and staring at your wall of photos. Their smiles seem to be wider tonight, like they're encouraging you to make a choice. Something within you blooms, a spark of hope burns in your chest and you know that you've made your decision.

The love of the job, the love of helping people, is far stronger than your sorrows over Spencer. You've had five years to come to terms with that relationship ending, but you've never been able to come to terms with losing the job you worked so hard for. Besides, you're not going to let a man force you to change your plans for the future.

Your hands find your phone and you email your resignation to your boss at the university. It's past midterms, and everyone is performing well enough so you decide to pass them all, no final exam needed for anyone.

Not caring about the fallout of your abrupt resignation, you get to work filling out the reinstatement forms. You feel a familiar buzz, the one that has your fingertips tingling with excitement and it's clear that you're making the right decision. You're going to be back where you rightfully belong.

- - - - - The next morning you step off the elevator with the file clutched tightly by your side. Butterflies flutter in your tummy but you force yourself to hold your head high as you open the office doors. You've made a point to dress your best, wanting your reinstatement to be memorable and show people that you're back for good; and you mean business.

Hotch's door is open and so you let yourself in. His eyes widen when he sees you and motions for you to take a seat. He eyes the folder in your hands and you can tell from the way he sets his pen down that he's nervous about what you've come here to say. You could have fun with this moment and make him sweat with anticipation, but you're not cruel and your excitement surely shows through your façade.

"I take it you've come to a decision?" He breaks the silence and meets your eyes. You nod your head, trying your hardest to keep a neutral expression.

"I have." You say and slide the file across his desk. Hotch opens the front cover and you see his shoulder relax, he lets out a breath he had been holding.

"I was hoping you'd come back." He smiles and stands from the desk, extending his hand for you to take. Unable to keep a smile off your face, you feel like this is your first day all over again; bright eyed and hopeful for the future.

"Couldn't keep me away." You tell him and he drops your hand. The clock on his wall reads ten minutes until ten, and you're hopeful that he lets you sit in on the morning's briefing.

"You know the drill, conference room in ten." He says and places the file on a stack on his desk. With a nod of your head, you exit his office and go back to the bullpen, where your confidence falters and reality sets in.

You had convinced yourself last night that the love of this job would be enough but you can't deny the creeping anxiety you feel. How is the rest of the team going to react? And what are you going to do if they're unwelcoming? You know you can count on Spencer being unwelcoming, but you hope the others aren't. You've missed them more than anything.

Ten minutes flies by too quickly for your liking. You had shown up to the conference room early, too anxious about running into someone to do anything else. But one by one the team files in, luckily Hotch comes first and you know with him here nobody will dare say anything to your face. Derek, Emily, and JJ come in shortly after Hotch, each giving you a small smile as they take their seat around the table. The tension is palpable in the air, almost as if an energy is buzzing between all of you. But when Spencer makes his appearance, it's like your heart drops into your stomach.

He blatantly ignores you, opting to take the farthest seat from you, sipping his morning cup of coffee. You try not to look at him, but out of the corner of your eye you can notice even more changes about him. His style, for starters, is one of the biggest changes. It seems he's ditched his sweaters and instead has replaced them with simple button ups, sleeves rolled to his elbows with a simple black tie.

Your heart rate increases as you realize this is not the same man you remember, he seems intimidating now; which is never how you would have described him before. He's not the Spencer you knew at all, and you're not sure if that makes you relieved or pained. Pulling you out of your train of thought, Hotch begins the morning meeting.

"Now, I'm just going to address the elephant in the room. We've regained one of our best team members, and I'm confident that we can all work cohesively together moving forward." You know who his words are for, everyone does. But luckily, Hotch moves on, bringing up pictures of young girls and this time, JJ speaks up.

"Three girls have gone missing in Northeast Harbor, Maine. It's right by the Acadia National Park which makes it a highly traveled place. Each girl attended the local high school, all in the same class. The first went missing three weeks ago, the second went missing two weeks ago, and the third went missing one day ago." JJ gives us the rundown of the case, and you take as many mental notes as you can, feeling a little out of practice from the order of operations. And you don't miss how similar this is to the case the team was working when you were suspended. In fact, this case is eerily similar.

"Local police have called us in before a fourth goes missing. They've found no evidence that the girls have been killed, so we treat this case as missing persons. Wheels up in fifteen." Hotch says, dismissing the team. You know that you will get more details on the flight to Maine, so you don't sweat the smaller details of the case.

Everyone gets up to leave, Spencer is the first out of the room and it's almost as if being in that room was the worst form of torture for him. With a sigh, you get up and follow the others, trying not to dwell on Spencer's actions too much. After all, you knew this was coming.

"It's good to have you back." Emily says as you pass her desk, and you smile, stopping to talk with her.

"It's good to be back. I didn't think I'd ever get this chance." You tell her truthfully, trying to gauge her reactions to you being here. She smiles warmly, her fingers curled around a disposable coffee cup.

"When Strauss retired, bringing you back was one of the first things Hotch wanted to do." She says, which surprises you. With raised eyebrows, you perch on the edge of her desk.

"Really? And everyone was okay with it?" You inquire, wanting to see if she'll give you any helpful information about everyone else's feelings about having you back. She takes a sip of her coffee and nods.

"Really. After you were suspended we conducted our own investigation into the matter and we even went to Strauss about it. But she wouldn't change her mind, no matter what evidence we showed her." Emily sighs and takes another drink. You had never heard of any sort of investigations or other findings, it's all news to you.

"What did you all find?" You ask, nervous to know what had happened after you had been dismissed from service. Emily's eyes look around the bullpen before she steps closer to you.

"We found a notebook at the unsub's house, full of information about the other victims, almost like a step-by-step replay of how he abducted them. We found the other three missing girls locked away in the shed behind his house. It didn't matter if he lived through that day or not, we had saved them all." Her words hit you hard, like you had just walked headfirst into a brick wall. Your mouth falls agape in shock.

Strauss' reasoning for having you suspended was that the use of deadly force wasn't warranted, that it was unnecessary and excessive. Even though he had a knife to a girl's throat, she was hellbent on the idea that had he lived more information would've been found. But the information was found not even twenty four hours after your suspension.

"So you're telling me that not even a full day after she suspended me you all found the other girls alive and well? Killing him didn't affect anything?" You almost can't believe what you're hearing. Emily places a reassuring hand on your shoulder,

"We did. And when you killed him you likely saved that girls' life. His notebook told us that he was planning on ramping up his attacks."  You feel like you could get sick. Out of the corner of your eye you see Spencer walking towards his desk, but all you can focus on is the revelation Emily just revealed to you.

"So my suspension was for nothing?" Your voice wavers as it all sinks in. You had indeed saved that girls life, and hadn't even ruined the chance of finding the others. Your fingers grip the edge of her desk tightly. Emily's grasp on your shoulder tightens, and she brings you in for a hug.

"We all tried our best, but Strauss wasn't having it. But we're glad you're back. We've missed you." She says, backing out of the embrace and leaving you shell-shocked on her desk as she goes to throw away her coffee cup.

-----

The jet is silent as everyone reviews information for the case. Your eyes read the words but your distracted mind can't comprehend them. No, your mind is too busy mulling over the fact that your suspension had been needless. And if that was needless, so was your fight with Spencer. Things didn't have to be this way, but they were.

Your eyes flicker up to Spencer, who's sitting across the jet from you, eyes trained on the papers in front of him. His beauty still manages to take your breath away, though you know you should hate him. You should despise him, but you can't. Some of your fondest memories are shared with him. And no matter how cruel his words were to you, you can't erase the love you still hold for him.

Probably feeling your eyes on him, he looks up and meets your eyes for the first time in five years. Your heart thumps erratically. While his style might have changed and his hair might be curlier now, his eyes are still the same.

You remember waking up and seeing those eyes shining down at you. The memories of looking into those eyes for comfort and love are not lost on you, your heart yearns for more of those moments; but you know that might never happen again.

All too soon, Spencer breaks eye contact with you and continues reading the file. Even more distracted than before, you feign reading the case file. You know you should be trying your best to absorb the information given this is your first case back but your mind is flooded with memories on this jet.

Everywhere you look, you can remember a moment you shared with Spencer. How he would beat you at chess every time, how you two would fall asleep next to each other on the bench seat, hands intertwined. Even the bathroom holds memories of when he would clean blood off of you from particularly bad cases, and how he would hold you as if you were the most precious artifact.

And all of that ended, all of it in the blink of an eye.

You bite the inside of your cheeks as to not cry from the overwhelming emotions you're not longer able to suppress and force yourself to read the words on the paper. Your body betrays you, and a single tear drops from your cheeks and stains the paper.

By the time the jet lands, you've somehow managed to read the case file front to back and have the information basically memorized. A sense of deja vu dances in your head, seeing similarities to the last case you worked. But this time, you vow to yourself that you won't get suspended. In fact, you'd be surprised if you're given any responsibility except for victimology.

-----

Just as you figured, you've been stuck with victimology. Which is fine, you're definitely not about to complain about what responsibilities you're saddled with; you're just happy to be back.

Unfortunately, Spencer has been tasked with the geographic profile, as usual, which means you two are forced to work in close quarters in the police precinct. You're not sure if Hotch did this on purpose or not, but you do your best to keep your head down and get your work done well. You want to impress the team on your first case back to show them you still have what it takes, that you deserve to be here.

You have pictures of the missing girls spread in front of you, and you take your time to study their physicality, to pick out any similarities they share to suggest why they may have been singled out. Your keen eye for detail hasn't deteriorated in the past five years, and you're able to make a list of all physical similarities before you move onto other types of similarities.

While you try your best to focus solely on your work, it's hard to concentrate when Spencer is so close. He's too close for comfort, you can smell his cologne and all you want to do is to be wrapped up in his arms so you can fully appreciate how good he smells. You want to bury your face into the curve of his neck, to feel his skin on yours.

Truthfully, after things ended with you and Spencer, you couldn't bring yourself to let another man touch you. The thought of anyone's hands on you except for Spencer's made you nauseous. You only want him to know your body like that, and beyond the physicality, Spencer knows you on such a deeply intellectual level, an intimate level.

Your gaze travels from your list to his back, watching as he pushes pins into a map. His shoulders strain against the button up, showing you that's he's put on some muscle. It looks good on him, everything about him looks good. It's hard to believe that this is the same man you had planned your life with.

He abruptly turns around from the board, and you're caught red-handed. His eyes immediately find yours that are already trained on him. The expression on his face is unreadable, you silently beg for him to say something, anything, even if it is a criticism. You just need to hear his honeyed, smooth voice say your name. You see him swallow before he clears his throat and returns to his work.

Your throat constricts and you hastily stand from your seat, needing some fresh air. You push past officers walking down the hall and practically run outside. Once the sunshine hits your skin, you try to take some breaths and calm your racing mind. Where your mind should be occupied on the case, the only thing you can think of is Spencer.

Maybe your love for the job just isn't going to be enough for you to get through this.

While standing outside to regain your wits, the team returns and Hotch looks at you with confusion. In fact, they all do, but Hotch is the only one to say something.

"Why are you out here? Is everything okay?" He looks over you and can probably easily see indications of stress. But you hope to stave him off, and downplay the situation.

"I'm fine, just needed some fresh air is all." You smile up at him, really trying to sell your story as the truth. You definitely can't tell him you almost regret being reinstated.

"Yeah, okay. Well, we need you inside to review everything." From the sound of his voice you know he doesn't buy it, but doesn't push the matter any further.

The pit in your stomach returns as you realize you only have a portion of the victimology done. You should have it nearly completed but you couldn't focus for more than five minutes. Internally, you kick yourself and start figuring out what explanation you're going to give.

The entire team crowds in a small conference room within the precinct, ready to debrief on today's findings. Those working in the field speak up first, lending their theories about what kind of person we're looking for. But you already know the kind of monster you're looking for, it's the same as the man you shot.

Your turn comes around and you let out a sigh. Maybe you can blame your rusty skills on the suspension. They might buy it.

"The victims, as we know, are all within the same age range as each other with similar physical features. It's likely that these victims remind the unsub of someone he has a history with." You begin your on-the-fly analysis and hope they can't see right through you. Knowing you still have work to do, you finish with telling them you're wrapping up the additional research. Thankfully, they all receive your answer well.

You turn from the board to take your seat again, meeting Spencer's eyes once more. You can't tell if he's unimpressed or if he's inside his own mind. Quite frankly, you'd rather not know. The thought of him being unimpressed with you feels like a hot iron being pushed through your torso because you remember how euphoric it felt to receive his praise.

-----

"You know I'm perfectly capable of doing this myself." You fight off a laugh, watching your boyfriend scramble for the documents on your desk. He's insisting that he finish your reports so the two of you can go home early. The thought is nice, but you feel bad for him having to do more work.

"I know you can do it and that you'll do it perfectly, but I want to." He says, finally grabbing the file from your hand. With a huff, you let him take the victory and stand from your seat, going to return your dirty mug to the break room.

When you come back into the bullpen, you can't help but to admire how handsome Spencer is. The angles of his nose and jaw are perfection, and his curly brown hair is the softest you've ever felt. After two years of being together, you have yet to find a flaw.

You perch yourself on the edge of his desk, watching his scribbled handwriting fly across the page. As long as Hotch doesn't catch on that Spencer's doing your work, you suppose you can let him finish it this once. While he works to finish the report, your fingers rake through his hair, eager to go home for the night.

You don't really feel like going out, you're tired from the return back to Quantico today and so you hope Spencer doesn't mind staying in. You'll let him pick the movie, and you'll make his favorite dessert; it'll be a picture perfect evening together.

After he's done, you two walk hand in hand down to your car, and you make the familiar trip to Spencer's apartment. Well, to your apartment as well. The two of you had agreed that it makes more financial sense for you to move in with him, and so you did without a second thought.

As the sun sets, casting a warm golden glow throughout the apartment, you close your eyes and snuggle into Spencer's side. His arm wraps around you, pulling you close, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head and reminds you of what a good job you did on the case. The simple moments like these are your favorite, where the two of you are content with just the presence of the other.

-----

Hours later, you're still at the precinct trying to get the victimology done before going back to the hotel. You were hoping Spencer would've left with the rest of the team, but he insisted that he still has work to do. So it's just the two of you working in strained silence.

Every once in a while you glance up at him, only to see that he's engrossed in his work. The familiar crinkle of his eyebrows is prominent as he studies the map in front of him, and you know that before too long he'll reach the conclusion he's looking for. His mind works in mysterious ways that you can't even begin to comprehend.

Not wanting to be caught staring again, you put pen to paper and write out your thoughts and theories. You know that the unsub is physically weak because he's decided to go after young girls and that the unsub is likely a staff member or someone trusted, seeing as how the girls all vanished on school grounds without a commotion. Your pen taps the table as your brain works to flesh out a better profile of the unsub.

About an hour later, your mind is exhausted and you know that even if you stay up trying to figure it out that you won't be able to come up with anything good. Your brain needs a break from critical thinking. You tuck the contents of the file inside rather haphazardly, the thought of a hotel bed is enticing, so enticing that you almost forget Spencer is here with you; that is until you hear him call your name. Feeling as if a weight had been dropped into your stomach, you swallow your nerves and turn to face him. His doe eyes look soft, unlike the guarded expression he wore earlier.

"Yeah?" You ask, thankful your voice doesn't show him how nervous you are. He places the cap back on his marker and rolls up the maps he was working on. With each step that he takes closer to you, your heart thumps harder until he's right in front of you, within your arm's reach.

"It's late, you shouldn't walk back to the hotel alone." He states in a soft tone. Everything within you wants to accept his offer immediately, but the guarded part of you won't let you. Within the last five years you and Spencer had been separated, you had become hyper-independent; and now that part is trying to take control in order to spare your feelings.

"I should be okay, it's only a few blocks away. I wouldn't want to interrupt your work." You say and adjust the grasp you have on your file, going to step away from him. The second your head turns, you feel his hand wrap around your arm gently. His hand is warm, and familiar.

"I've been done with my work for the last two hours." He admits, and your eyebrows crease together.

"Then why stay here? You could've gone back with the team." The confusion is prominent in your voice. It just doesn't make sense, and Spencer is a man that prides himself on making logical choices. He licks his lips, a nervous habit you had picked up during your first year on the team.

"Well I just- I just needed to make sure that you got back alright." You can see the insecurity from the slouch in his shoulders and his stumbling of words. Your throat is dry, and you feel yourself start panicking. You don't know what to do. A part of you just wants to kiss him but the other part remembers the look on his face when he called your actions stupid.

"Hotch reinstated me, I have my gun back. I'll be okay." You reason with him, eyes darting down to the holster on your hip.

"I know that. But, please, just let me walk you back." He practically begs. You know you don't have a good reason to tell him no, other than for selfish reasons. So you just nod, and he follows you out of the precinct.

The streetlights offer a good amount of light, and the critters in the trees hoot and chirp around, bringing life to the dark. Besides the wildlife, your footsteps are the only other thing to be heard. That is, unless he can hear how your heart is about to beat out of your chest. Never in this lifetime did you ever think this scenario was plausible, yet here you are. Walking side by side with Spencer as if you two didn't once share everything under the sun. As you walk back, you know your time is limited, and there's one burning question you've wanted to ask.

"Spencer, why didn't you tell me that the team had found those girls the next day?" Your voice is hoarse from how dry your throat is, and Spencer slows his pace. He looks down to the sidewalk and licks his lips before answering.

"I didn't think you would want me to contact you. You left your key on the counter and packed a bag, I knew you weren't coming back." His voice is quiet and sounds pained. Your pace slows to match his.

"I mean, I had just shot a man and you told me I was stupid." You point out, vividly recalling the sound of his hand coming into contact with the countertop. Your heart shatters a little more each time you think about it. It's still hard to believe that your loving Spencer was capable of being so angry with you. Glancing from the sidewalk to Spencer's face, you don't miss how his lower lash line looks wet. His hands are tucked into his pockets, eyes glued to the pavement, until they snap up and see you standing there, illuminated only by the streetlamp.

"You weren't stupid. You did what you had to do to save the girl. I was just scared. I was so scared of what they were going to do to you. They suspended you and I didn't know if it was going to end there. I thought maybe that they might even press criminal charges." He tells you, and while it makes sense, it still doesn't justify his actions in your mind.

"I was scared out of my mind. That was the first person I ever killed." You tell him, aware that he already knows that. But if you all are rehashing the past, why not bring it up? You'd be lying if you said you weren't trying to slightly guilt trip him.

"I should have been there for you, no matter what they were going to do. I panicked and made you leave your home." His voice cracks and you feel your own voice constrict. Your free hand balls into a fist to keep yourself from reaching out to him and comforting him.

"You had to protect yourself too. If you defended me too much, you could've been facing suspension as well." You had thought over the entire scenario every day for the last five years and know that part of his reaction was likely to protect himself as well. It hurts, but you understand. The job is everything to him.

"I would have rather been suspended than lose you." A lone tear drips down his cheekbone. Your brain feels like it's short circuiting from trying to keep up with everything that he's telling you. But you recognize the gravity of the situation you're in and you know that this is your chance to start making amends or burn the remnants.

"Spencer. This is, this is a lot-" You start speaking but he's cutting you off.

"Please, take your time and think about it. I'll give you all the time in the world if that's what you need." His words bring some relief, the pressure of making an on-the-fly decision while mentally exhausted is alleviated, but you know you're going to have to figure things out soon.

The two of you walk back to the hotel in silence, save for a sniffle here and there from Spencer. You decide that you'll work this case and go back to Quantico, and by then you should have your mind made up. He walks you to your door and bids you a goodnight before returning to his own room. As he walks down the hall, a small part of you already knows what decision you're going to make.

-----

The team had the case solved in three days. It was easy enough, the unsub practically singled himself out in staff interviews and the girls were all found alive, thankfully. He had been keeping them in a cellar attached to his house, bound and gagged. You're glad this one ended without incident, and you're grateful to see the reunification of the girls with their parents.

But, the job never stops, and so the team loads back onto the jet to Quantico. You feel Spencer's eyes on you for the entire ride back, but you do your best to ignore him. You had your mind made up, but you just weren't sure of what you wanted to say and you knew that if you looked at him that you would give yourself away. The perfect words are needed to fully express your sentiments, it needs to be done right. Plus, he said you had all the time in the word. But, the part of you that's missed him for the last five years is becoming very impatient and you know you're going to tell him soon.

As the team disembarks from the jet, talking about their weekend plans, you come up with what you believe is a good idea. The team waltzes into the office and conducts their investigation reports, excited to start their weekend while you fill your file out with the utmost haste, you practically buzz with anticipation.

"You got a hot date to get to or something?" You hear Derek ask you, gaining the attention from some of the others, Spencer included. Your eyes bounce from him back to Derek and you shake your head.

"Oh, no I just want to get it all on paper before I forget." You lie, probably very unsuccessfully judging by the look Derek gives you, but he drops it. Within seconds, he's back to talking about his plans to Emily.

Twenty minutes later and you're practically running out of the office and to your apartment. Before you carry out your idea you want to make sure you look your best. So you take your time to shower, do your hair, and pick out a flattering outfit. If everything goes accordingly, this could very well be the start of a new beginning.

-----

Standing outside of an all too familiar door, you knock before you can talk yourself out of it. You hear footsteps on the other side, and within seconds, the door swings open. Spencer stands in the doorway, looking as if he's seen a ghost. His mouth drops open and he blinks at you a few times.

"Can I come in?" You ask, knocking him out of his daze. He nods enthusiastically,

"Yes, of course." He opens the door wider for you and you step over the threshold.

The apartment is almost exactly how you left it. In fact, you see that your belongings are still on display. Your favorite blanket is draped over the couch, the rug you had picked out is splayed underneath the coffee table, and the artwork you had chosen still adorns the walls. You figured he would've thrown everything of yours out. He comes to stand beside you, watching your reaction as you take it all in.

"I couldn't bring myself to change anything. I hoped that one day you would come back." He says, looking down at you. The eyes that meet yours are the same ones that you looked to for comfort, all that time ago, and are now finding a new comfort from them.

"I figured it would all be gone." You admit and take one more look around. He shakes his head.

"Would you like some coffee? I have the blend from the shop down the street." Spencer offers, heading towards the kitchen. Your heart swells knowing that he still gets coffee from your favorite shop. He had never been the biggest fan of their particular blend, but he still got it because he knew it was your favorite. And it seems like he never stopped getting it.

"Yeah, that would be nice, thank you." As he walks off into the kitchen, you let yourself walk around to inspect the apartment some more. Your fingertips graze over the blanket on the couch and you notice that on the coffee table there's a book. But it's not just any book, it's the one you had been reading before that fateful night, and when you open it, you see that the bookmark is still there, left at the exact spot you had left off.

Spencer walks back into the room and sees you holding the book. He puts the coffee down on the table and licks his lips, watching as your eyes scan the page. You close the book and put it down, taking a spot on the couch. It's still just as comfortable as you remember. Wanting to enjoy the nostalgia and old comforts, you take your time sipping on the coffee, reminiscing.

"You know, I never thought I'd ever leave this place." You speak, looking out of the window, seeing traffic passing by. The last bit of coffee makes its way down your throat and you know you've stalled for long enough.

"I never wanted you to leave." Spencer says after a few moments of silence. You set the cup on the coffee table and look over at him. He's taken a spot on the opposite side of the couch. Your heartstrings tug and you begin questioning why this all had to happen in the first place.

"You told me you would give me all the time I needed." You start your well-rehearsed rhetoric, and he nods.

"As long as you need." His voice is soft and genuine. You feel your fingertips buzz with anxiety, and you pick at the seams of your pants, trying to alleviate the jittering.

"I've taken as long as I needed. Well, I've actually taken more time than I needed but I wanted to be sure of what I was choosing." You feel your hands start to shake, you're not sure why you're so nervous. This is your Spencer. But it feels like the first time meeting him all over again. His eyes are intently on you, studying every micro expression.

"And?" He swallows hard, eyes growing slightly wider. You break his gaze and look around the cozy apartment. This feels like home.

"And I feel like the last five years I've been wandering with no destination. I got a new job, new apartment, but it all felt temporary. And I was never sure why. I tried to replace everything, furniture, new books, all of it; but it never felt like mine." You explain, taking the long route to the point.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you. The energy between the two of you is practically buzzing with nervousness.

"But I guess what I'm trying to say is that this feels like home. Being here, with you, feels like home." Your bottom lip quivers as the words pass your lips. Thinking the words and saying they hold two very different gravities.

Spencer's shoulder visibly relax and he lets out a breath. He smiles widely at you, tears threatening to spill over onto his face. You feel your own eyes water, and the hole in your heart feels as if a little of it is mending.

"It doesn't feel like home without you." He says and crosses the couch, pulling you into his embrace.

The feeling of his arms around you causes the withheld tears to fall, dripping down your cheek and landing on his arms. It's almost surreal that this is happening. What you thought had lost, what had slipped away from you, is returning you and allowing you to begin again.

"I am so sorry for everything I said. I didn't mean it, and I hope you know that. This doesn't even begin making up for any of it, but I will work every day to prove to you that I am better. I love you so much it hurts." Your heart swells at his words, and you know he means them. The way he's holding you is all the proof of authenticity you need.

"I love you too, I've missed you every single day." You tell him, voice breaking while you hold onto him tightly.

Your eyes close as you savor the feeling of him holding you. Spencer presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you look up at him with watery eyes.

The golden sunlight filtering in from the window illuminates his glistening honey eyes. Your hand comes up and wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, and he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. Gently, your thumb caresses his cheekbone, appreciating his beauty up close once more.

When his eyes open, finding you staring back at him, it's like Spencer has his own gravitational pull. Before you know it, he's tucking your hair behind your ear and holding your face, bringing you closer to him. After five long years of waiting for this moment again, your lips finally meet his.

It's just like the first kiss you ever shared. You're nervous, but full of excitement for the future. You can't possibly imagine anything ending between the two of you again. And sure, it might take time to heal each other, but you're finally back home where you belong and that's good enough for now.

Spencer deepens the kiss, and you smile into it, already falling back into pattern with ease. It's like the two of you were made for each other; two halves of one whole.

When your lungs beg for oxygen, you break away from him with warm, swollen lips and rosy cheeks. Leaning your forehead against his, your adjust so that he's laying back against the armrest and your situated between his legs, your back to his chest.

There are no words to bring justice to the fullness you feel. The hole that was created when you walked out of that door is filling itself back in with each second you spend in his arms. You're content for the first time in a long time.

As you lean your head back against his chest, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that this is just the beginning of a long, fulfilling life with Spencer. He presses a soft kiss to the side of your face, whispering to you that he loves you once more.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fandom #mgg #matthew gray gubler #Spotify

[sirfrogsworth]

Mounjaro's Revenge: The Inevitable Adventures of Froggie, Chapter Unknown

I keep saying I can't leave the house without having some kind of adventure. And I really thought I was going to have a quick, uneventful doctor's visit with my monthly checkup this past Wednesday. I'd go in, they'd check the box Medicare requires every month, and I'd come straight home.

But adventure seeks me out. I can't seem to escape its grasp. And, yes, sometimes I like having adventures. They give me something to write about. And sometimes they are fun memories. But sometimes adventures just make me tired. And not all adventures are positive.

For the past 3 weeks I have been on the second dosage amount of Mounjaro. Unlike the Ozempic, I have had a few issues with side effects. Roughly 48 hours after my injection, I get sick to my stomach and feel pukey. It lasts for about two hours. I either vomit and lose the urge or I hold it in and it fades. I am then compelled to take a nap.

Considering the weight loss and glucose control, getting sick for an hour or two per week isn't a huge deal. There is a good chance I will get used to the medication as time goes on, but even if I don't, I am okay with this consequence.

My injection day was Tuesday, and based on past experience, I figured I'd have until Thursday morning before I got sick. The past 2 episodes happened at almost identical times, so I figured Wednesday wouldn't be a problem.

But right before my doctor's appointment I started feeling extremely... rough.

Optimistic for no good reason, I was hopeful I could get through the appointment before the urge to vomit arrived.

I get to the office and there are 3 patients ahead of me. This was not a good sign. My doctor tends to overbook and I was probably going to have a bit of a wait. I arrived in the middle of a lively conversation about where to get a good steak in St. Louis. I'm used to waiting rooms being full of quiet and bored people staring at their phones so when I opened the door it felt like the conversation smacked me in the face.

The cast of characters were as follows...

There was an older black man who had the spirit of a kindly grandpa. He seemed nice and wise and was enjoying the steak conversation. Let's call him, Old Guy.

There was an older white fellow who was anxious about the wait time due to having another appointment soon. He was on hold with the other doctor's office trying to delay his appointment time. He was only mildly interested in steak due to that distraction. I already used Old Guy, so... Anxious Guy.

And then there was the steak expert who was leading the conversation. Actually, leading is not strong enough. He was *dominating* the conversation. As I sat down and his visage entered my field of view, I was a bit taken aback.

Do you know how in Star Trek everyone has a mirror universe doppelganger who may look the same, but they usually have personality traits that are reversed?

They are often identified by arch overacting or a change in facial hair.

The steak expert was my mirror universe counterpart. He was of similar age, height, and weight. Same color hair and eyes. He even wore similar clothing.

But he had a goatee instead of a beard. *gasp*

And he wore... sandals. *double gasp*

He had clearly been in a recent transporter mishap.

I mean, I could *never* wear sandals. The world is not ready to handle my nude foot and I find very few sandals have the load-bearing capacity necessary for people my size. You are asking for foot pain if you are over 300 pounds and wearing sandals.

Mirror Froggie was very outgoing and personable, but he had trouble filtering what he said and was often obliviously rude. He clearly thought himself to be hilarious but struggled to make even kindly Old Guy chuckle.

Old Guy said, "I think Longhorn makes a decent steak for the money."

And then Mirror Me's unfiltered response... "Longhorn is shit. You shouldn't eat there. You are wasting your money on shit steak."

"I don't know, I've always enjoyed..."

"I'm telling you, friend, it is shit steak. End of story."

You could tell that made Old Guy feel bad for suggesting what he liked. But he brushed it off and asked for a better suggestion. Mirror Froggie confidently told him of a restaurant called "Sam's" that had "the best steak in town."

Old Guy proceeded to ask Siri to look up Sam's and it took a few tries. He reminded me of my dad fighting with the iPhone and repeating things over and over with increasing volume. I think Old Guy wasn't specific enough as he got the wholesale club on the first few attempts. Finally he said, "SAMMM'S STEAKHOUSSSSE" and found success. Old Guy saw the reviews and some of them were... not great.

But Mirror Froggie was like, "You can't read reviews. They're all liars." And I was questioning why people would take the time to lie about a small St. Louis steakhouse, but whatever. He then said it was because the restaurant was in disrepair and needed new plumbing, but that's why they could sell such amazing steak at reasonable prices.

Theories are less logical in the Mirror Universe. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anxious Guy got off his phone call and cursed into the void. He missed his other appointment. He interjected with, "Is that Sam's place expensive?" And that sent Mirror Froggie into a long diatribe about the price of meat at different places and his annoyance at steak-related inflation. Soon after, Anxious Guy finally got in to see the doctor. Old Guy was keeping Mirror Froggie busy with conversation, so I just closed my eyes and rested as they discussed the price of oversized shrimp "as big as your fist". I guess they ran out of things to say about steak.

As they were talking I started to get a spidey-sense about Mirror Froggie.

He *needed* conversation.

He *needed* distraction.

His boredom abhors a vacuum.

Whenever there was a lull or silent moment, I could see him getting very antsy. And if Old Guy got called in before Mirror Froggie... I was going to have a problem.

I was feeling sicker by the moment and did not have the bandwidth to help some stranger with his inability to accept boredom.

And... Old Guy was next.

Because, of course he was.

I feel like sitting there with my eyes closed and also not having said a word the entire time was a pretty decent social cue that I was not interested in talking. But Mirror Me decided to poke that notion with a stick in order to find a way in.

He speaks barely above a whisper, "I wish I could sleep in a public waiting room. Not sure how you do that."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling well. Nothing contagious, just very tired."

"Well, if you're sick, I guess you're in the right place, am I right? *long pause* Cuz we're next to a hospital. *short pause* Right?"

Oh great, he's a joke explainer.

Mirror Froggie did not care about my desire to sit in peace while I waited. His foot was anxiously a-tappin' and he was vibrating with energy that needed someplace to go. He tried standing up and walking in circles. And I guess because my eyes were shut he decided to narrate his walking and stretching to keep me informed. That satisfied him for roughly 20 seconds. He sat back down and was clearly struggling to be alone with his own thoughts.

"Hey, friend."

I open my eyes slowly.

"Do you see that magazine next to you? Would you mind handing that to me?"

I thought, "This is good. He's seeking out an alternate source of stimulation. He can read the magazine and I can rest until my turn."

Seriously, brain... where is this optimism coming from? I've been a cynical misanthrope for like 4 years now.

He flips through a few pages. "Look at this. It's got Oprah on the cover. It's got to be good, right? They don't put Oprah on the cover unless it is good, ya know? Though she doesn't look right after losing all that weight. You know what I mean, friend?"

Well, shit.

I didn't give him a distraction, I gave him a conversation starter. Still, I kept my eyes closed in the hopes he would give up.

"Hey, friend."

Crap.

"You want to hear a joke?"

I open my eyes. I'm not getting out of this.

"Sure." as unenthusiastically as I can manage.

He proceeds to tell three jokes all strung together. All of them terrible and none of them coherent enough for me to remember. I gave him complimentary singular chuckles even though two of the punchlines didn't make sense. I think one was about accidentally eating cat food.

"Hey, friend... how'd you like my jokes?"

I jokingly replied back, "Well, you said *a* joke and that was *three* jokes. That wasn't what I agreed to."

He chuckles and I close my eyes again.

"Hey, friend."

Jesus Christ, would someone jingle their keys for this dude?

"Do you want to hear a 'locker room' joke?"

Oh fuck me.

"I... guess?"

There was no way out of this aside from unpleasant confrontation and my energy calculation of that was much higher than just suffering through a dirty joke.

Here it is, as best as I can remember...

"So there is a pirate ship. And the captain has a beautiful daughter who has come aboard. He tells her that the crew hasn't seen a woman in a long time and they aren't safe to be around, so she should keep a razor blade 'down there.' After the voyage he assembles all of his men and instructs them to pull down their pants. Every one of them has had their dick cut off... except for one. The captain goes up to the only one with their dick intact and says, 'Thank you for not deflowering my only daughter. You should be commended for your restraint. And as a reward, I will make you my first mate.'"

I literally cannot type the punchline because it was an unintelligible noise. Basically, Mirror Froggie imitated someone without a tongue trying to speak.

Yeah. That happened.

I could not hide my disdain for this joke and I was feeling too awful to muster up any kind of response. He seemed confused by the absence of laughter from his wonderful rapey body mutilation joke.

"You get it, friend? He lost his tongue because he ate her pussy."

Yes, explaining the joke always helps... friend.

In whatever the opposite of the nick of time is, moments after this stranger said "ate her pussy"... the nurse calls Mirror Froggie in for his appointment.

I would feel relieved, but the Mounjaro side effects were getting worse and the urge to lose the remaining nutritional value from last night's dinner was increasing by the moment. I was next in line, so I was hoping Mirror Froggie didn't take up too much of the doctor's time with horrible "locker room" jokes and dubious steakhouse suggestions.

Roughly 5 minutes later the nurse calls me in to get my vitals. She weighs me and I am down another 3 pounds. That reminded me of why I was suffering this tummy tantrum. My blood pressure was perfect but my pulse was quite high. I was very anxious holding in my stomach contents and I tried to explain, but she asked me to try and relax to lower my heart rate. We compromised when I got it down to 107.

The nurse keeps forgetting that I don't really have a family anymore. And I know she has a lot of patients in and out and they probably all blend together. But she always ends up asking me questions that require me to remind her my parents are dead.

"Did your mom put up the Christmas tree yet?"

I went with, "No tree this year. Too much work."

"Aw, that's too bad. I actually got mine up early this year. You gotta put up a tree for Christmas."

Thankfully her job was done at this point and she abruptly ended the conversation.

Next up, the pee guy.

He has never actually told me what his name is so that is just what I call him in my head.

Every month I have to sacrifice my urine to the gods of Medicare so they know I am taking my meds and not selling them on the mean streets of Spanish Lake. And the pee guy always comes in to collect my sample. The little cup is kept in a white paper bag for discretion. He used to just give you a clear ziplock, and that was a little embarrassing, as everyone in the waiting room could see your pee. I definitely prefer the new white paper bag system.

It could be my lunch or some cookies or a bunch of peanuts.

Who is to know?

The pee guy is a bit of a talker as well. But the nice thing about his conversational style is that you can't get in a word edgewise. If he asks you a question, he'll even answer it for you. This requires very little effort on my part.

"Hey there, Mr. Benjermin!"

(I have noticed Ben-jer-min is a common pronunciation among Black folks in the area. Not sure if that is just a St. Louis thing or not. Perhaps I have a dialectologist follower who knows.)

I wave hello.

"How's it going, Mr. Benjermin!? Good? Good. Just gotta get your sample. Still taking the same meds? (I nod yes.) Okay, just need you to sign here. New Year's is coming up. Gotta be careful not to party too hard. You'll be regretting that. Though you don't look like a drinker to me. (I nod no.) Yeah, you're a good one. You keep it clean. Okay then, Mr. Benjermin. You're all set. Here is your new sample cup for next time."

He replaces my white paper bag with a new white paper bag and leaves the room without me saying a word. And I'm just realizing he asks me if I am a drinker quite a lot. He must sense my teetotaler spirit or something because he always assumes (correctly) that I don't drink. He's just really concerned about me partying too hard.

Finally the doctor comes in.

My doctor is kind, compassionate, and competent. The almost 3 Cs. But he's got a touch of what I call "Boomer-itis." He's on the progressive side of most things but there are a few ingrained sensibilities from that generation he didn't escape. It's mostly harmless. Though he said something sexist in front of a nurse practitioner student during my last visit that made her roll her eyes behind him.

He greets me and I tell him I'm not feeling well from the Mounjaro and that I am still recovering from my trip to Florida. He tells me that a lot of people can get sick for days from these new drugs, so getting sick for an hour or two isn't so bad. I agree, though I really wish I had not gotten sick at the exact time of this appointment. I keep eyeballing the trash can in the corner just in case things go sideways in my tummy.

He asks about my trip to Florida and I predicted that—as I already had photos ready to go on my phone. I scroll through them, showing off amazing cityscapes and mountainous clouds and an orange sunset over a lake—hoping to impress him with my photography skills to no avail. And then he sees Katrina. Now, I am not blind to her attractiveness, but I do sometimes forget how people respond when they see her next to me.

"Oh, wow. She's beautiful!" he exclaims.

I almost felt flattered on her behalf. But then his Boomer-itis starts to kick in. And he repeats, "Yeah, she's *really* beautiful. Just a friend, you said?" His facial expression and tone of voice are like, "You poor thing, you have been friendzone'd." And probably a touch of, "She's out of your league, buddy." I don't know exactly how to describe it, but it is this familiar look of pity and worry. This is usually followed up with a probing question trying to figure out what our "deal" is. Why is it so odd to that generation that a man and woman can earnestly be just friends and perfectly content with that arrangement?

It would be the easiest thing in the world to just say, "She's gay" and that she isn't "out of my league" as she plays an entirely different sport. (Competitive Subaru Ownership?) But my friendship with Katrina is not some consolation prize due to her queerness. I shouldn't have to explain or justify why I'm "just friends" or why I'm not "being led on."

In a worried tone, "So, umm, how'd you two meet?"

There it is.

"She is an artist. I posted some of her work on my website and it was very popular and helped people find her work. She messaged me to say thank you and we were instant friends. 10 years later she's my best friend and very much like family."

Thankfully his pity face evaporated and he finally saw how long-lasting and meaningful this friendship was. But it is a weirdly common obstacle I have noticed whenever people see a fat guy has a conventionally attractive friend.

Friends are great. Friends have been more supportive and beneficial to me than any romantic entanglement I've ever had.

All of my friends are hot and queer and that's awesome.

Note to self: Put that on a t-shirt.

Knowing how difficult it was, he congratulated me on surviving the trip and we wrapped up our appointment quickly. All I have left to do is check in with his assistant, get my prescriptions sent in, and make my next appointment. I can see the finish line, but my tummy is rumbling and I am making contingency plans for the Great Upchuck of 2023™. I'm clocking trashcans with plastic liners. I'm trying to remember where the nearest restroom is. And then I look down at the little white paper bag containing my urine sample cup and think, "Last resort."

Trinica (the competence ninja and my favorite person in the office) is processing my meds and searching the calendar for next month's visit. Shelly is keeping quiet and working on her computer. I start pacing back and forth. I'm not sure what I think that will do, but I think desperation is taking over at this point.

Shelly sees me and asks, "How's that whole disability situation going for you?" She is acting like my best friend now after cursing at me on the phone. I have a feeling she had an unpleasant conversation with my doctor after that episode because she isn't this sweet and nice to anyone.

I give her the update, "Everything is submitted. My lawyer is happy with all of the records we were able to find. It's just a waiting game now. It could be a couple of months but if I have to see a judge it could be over a year."

She commiserates with me about how slow the process can be.

Then, out of fucking nowhere, Mirror Froggie reappears in the little sliding reception window like a jumpscare in a horror movie.

Are you fucking kidding me with this guy?

"Hey Trinica, do you have a business card for the doctor? I want to recommend him to Doug."

Who the fuck is Doug? Are we supposed to know Doug? Is Doug the tongueless pussy-eating pirate who needs medical attention?

Trinica looks in her desk and is unable to find a spare card. So she stops processing my stuff and starts hunting around the office. She has a bad leg so she is slowly limping while searching every desk. I have never wanted to strangle anyone before, but my doppeldouche was really pushing his luck.

At this point I am just staring at the little trash can in the blood-draw room. I can feel the scrambled eggs reversing course through my digestive system.

Trinica finds a fucking card for fucking Doug and fucking Mirror Froggie finally fucks off to bother people that are not me.

Trinica gets me all sorted, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and make to the car.

I sit in the driver's seat, and with that unearned optimism, say to myself, "I made it."

For all of you who are squeamish about bodily fluids, you can just pretend this is where the story ends. Everything was fine. I made it home and was happy and comfortable and nothing gross happened. The nausea faded away and I lived happily ever after.

The End.

Thank you for reading this and have a lovely day.

Just scroll on by to the next post!

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Okay, so you all probably thought I was foreshadowing a monumental barf.

But foreshadowing is typically subtle. You don't want to give away the ending. Of course this was going to end in barf. The barfing was inevitable. The barf was not what I was *actually* foreshadowing at all.

Did anyone catch what it was?

You know that discrete white paper bag?

The one that could be for peanuts or maybe a sammich and definitely not my urine sample cup?

The last resort?

Look, it's all I had.

I was not going to make it home. I was not going to make it back into the bathroom. No trash bins on the horizon. Nothing in my car.

At first it was just an itty bitty baby barf. A perfect amount to be contained in a flimsy paper bag. I felt a relief wash over me.

"That's all?" still being stupidly optimistic.

But then I made that noise.

That... pre-retch noise.

That one where your head kinda juts forward and your lips make a giant O shape and you make a very specific grunting sound. That sound where if another person hears it, they involuntarily make the same specific grunting sound.

This was when I had one of those movie moments when a character knows they are about to die and they can't do anything about it. And I made this exact face as I waited for the impending doom of a vomitous explosion.

The Great Upchuck of 2023™ commenced.

And it was... intense.

Everything inside my stomach transferred rapidly, furiously, projectile-ly into the bag of foreshadowing.

I mean, I'm pretty much convinced my stomach is a TARDIS because I do not remember ingesting that much food. This sheer volume of barf had to be coming from another dimensional plane.

I could see it staining the sides of the bag as it was clearly not meant for this. When I finished it was barely intact—soggy, if you will. When I was absolutely sure I had ralph'd to completion, my only option was to gently place it on the passenger's side floor (sans floor mats). All I needed was for it to last 5 more minutes on the trip home and then I could dispose of it and pretend this never happened.

Physically I felt such a relief. Sometimes there is this post-puke euphoria where you just feel, well... lighter. Unburdened with no longer having that feeling. Happy it is over with.

I place the key in the ignition and head for home. As I'm driving I can't help but stare at the bag. I can see it mocking me as it changes colors. The exterior was getting... damp. If this were someone else's vomit, I would have been vomiting because of it. Just... so gross.

I get home and park the car. I walk around to the passenger side to begin the extraction process. I pull the trash can close and I have to psych myself up to deal with this horrible hurling happenstance.

And this next part, well... it would be hilarious if it weren't so damned disgusting.

I stare at the bag.

The bag stares back at me.

I take a deep breath and approach the bag.

The bag grins at me.

I gingerly grasp the very tippy-top in an effort to not touch any of the offending material.

I slowly lift up the bag.

And the very instant it reaches just enough height to do the most damage...

The bottom falls out.

If the bag had broken just as I was picking it up, the carnage would have been minimal. Only a small area to clean up. But clearly this bag read the Wikipedia page on air burst nuclear weapons. It knew you get a much more devastating blast radius if you detonate from an elevated position.

A TARDIS worth of partially digested scrambled eggs just pour and splatter and spray onto the floor of my car. It looked like the bag was puking out my puke.

The bag is now dead but I can feel its ghost laughing at me.

I stand there frozen holding the top of this evil deceased white paper bag trying and failing to process what just happened.

I realize I have no idea what to do with this situation. This is something that would usually be followed with, "MOoooOOOoooommmmm! How do I clean up vomit?"

And she would say, "You'll never do it right. I'll clean it up."

And I'd pretend to be like, "Oh no, it's my mess. I could never let you do that for me."

And she'd insist and break out her endless supply of very specific cleaning potions and magics and soon it would be as if the vomit didn't even exist.

So, I guess my question is... do I have to get my car detailed now?

The Actual End.

#long post #the inevitable adventures of froggie #trigger warning #vomit mention #rape mention

[melswifeasf]

Was it ever real?

part two

Fandom: Yellowjackets

Pairing: Shauna Shipman x fem!reader

Genre: a little angst; fluff.

Words: 7.4k+

Summary: based on this request. you have a huge crush on Shauna and she accidentally hears you in the locker room.

Notes: i definitely got carried away with this one lmao. both parts are pretty long, if you guys prefer shorter imagines don’t be afraid to let me know!

not spell checked!

Taissa elbowed your side making you flinch. she smirked at you and kicked the ball that was under your feet before kicking it over to Van who stopped it and kicked it toward Lottie next. you rolled your eyes at her, a bit embarrassed that she had caught you in the act. you cleared your throat and motioned for Lottie to pass it to you next which she did with ease. Taissa chuckled at your attempt of distracting her from the situation but she planned on teasing you later on once you were in the locker room.

just a couple feet away was the source of your distraction, the brown eyed girl who you had been staring at since the beginning of practice. her hair was pulled back into a pony tail with just a couple strands framing her face. she was passing the ball to Jackie with a smile on her lips as she laughed about something she had said. you'd do anything to be the source of that smile. you were casual friends, just as you were with the rest of the girls on the team. Tai, Van and Lottie were the only three you were closest to. Lottie had been your best friend since you were kids and the couple were just better company than the rest. Jackie brought in a lot of drama that you weren't particularly interested in having to deal with and Shauna was only close to those who Jackie approved of. you didn't think you were one of those people.

"you should tell her" Taissa said, too impatient to wait until the locker to talk about it. you let out a sarcastic chuckle at the thought. telling Shauna was the last thing on your mind. she was straight and in the slim slim chance that she wasn't, she would probably be in love with Jackie. they were inseparable and you'd never seen her look at anyone in a way to indicate that she was interested in them.

"yeah right. she's straight or in love with Jackie. besides, she barely acknowledges my existence" you responded looking at the curly haired brunette. Lottie and Van took a couple of steps closer so that they could be in the conversation without Shauna hearing.

"i don't think she's straight" said Van with an amused chuckle. you looked at her with a deadpan expression, not at all buying her words or even that she believed them.

Lottie smiled as she glanced between you and Van, "there's only one way to find out" she shrugged optimistically. you rolled your eyes at all of them. this had been a regular conversation and it always ended the same. you weren't going to tell her. the rejection would break your heart and it would just fuck up the group dynamic.

"im not telling her. end of story" you said and like a miracle, seconds afterwards the whistle blew signaling that practice was over. the three teens laughed in amusement but followed quickly behind you as they changed the conversation to the halloween party that Jeff was throwing at his house.

with hope that the conversation wouldn't shift back to a certain dough eyed brunette, you zipped and button your jeans before reaching for your blue hoodie. much like you had expected the conversation did in fact not end where you left it on the field.

"look, if you tell her and she says no then whatever, at least you can move on" Taissa said from beside you. she was on the bench tying her shoes and Van was leaning against the lockers with her hand gripping one shoulder strap. you groaned in annoyance and threw your head back to really show just how over it you were.

"if i tell and she says no then i have to live with being the sad lesbian who fell for the straight girl" was your quick response. Taissa and Van glanced at each other, not all that sure what to say that could contradict that statement. truthfully you probably would end up being the hopeless girl in love with a straight girl and there was a high chance that it could get around the school. you had come out as bisexual during your freshman year but that was just to make things easier and before you had realized you only liked girls. it made things easier, the boys still thought they had a chance so they treated you like any other girl but being rejected by a straight girl? now that you wouldn't survive.

a sudden voice behind you spoke. "or she's just not straight" said Lottie making you flinch and your chest tighten. you closed your eyes as you held your hand against your chest where you could clearly feel your heart beating against it.

"fuck Lottie!" you exclaimed, "you scared the shit out of me!" that seemed to have been the most amusing thing ever as the three teens bursted out laughing at your reaction.

"i was behind you the whole time. you need to start paying attention to your surroundings" muttered the tall girl as she walked past you and sat beside Tai. great. now it was three against you. again.

a groan erupted from your throat, "all of you are so fucking annoying. seriously. Shauna doesn't like girls and she doesn't like me so can we please just drop this?" you said and closed your locked a lot harsher than you intended causing it to make a loud noise and the other three girls flinched lightly at the suddenness of it. you grabbed your backpack and threw it onto one shoulder before walking toward the exit in a hurry. not quick enough though, Tai, Van and Lottie were on your heel with fast steps. figures.

the door opened in front of you and you stepped out of the locker room completely. met with an empty gymnasium you continued to walk until Lotties voice stopped you. "okay okay," she said quickly and grabbed your arm so you would stop walking. you came to a halt and finally turned back around so you were met with the three girls once more. "we won't say anything anymore. we just don't want you to keep pining over her" she shrugged which earned nods from the other two.

"plus you guys would look good together" added Van, in hopes that you wouldn't stay too mad at them for meddling so much. with a small smile you rolled your eyes at her words. a small blush spread across your face and you were sure if they didn't feel so apologetic for being nosy they probably would've teased you about it by then.

your mouth opened in an attempt to assure them it wasn't a big deal but your words died in your throat as your eyes shifted behind them. the locker room door opened to reveal a pair of best friends. it seemed as if the oxygen had been knocked out of your throat as you let out a little gasp at the sight. the three girls looked at you confused before they followed your eyes sight which elicited a similar reaction. their eyes widened in shock.

the only thing you could do in that moment was to hope they hadn't heard anything. hoped that in some magical way they weren't paying attention to your loud voice when you admitted to having a crush on her. oh fuck. her not hearing was impossible, it was like someone held a microphone up to your lips for fucks sake. Jackie glanced at you with a look you couldn't quite read but that wasn't your answer, it was the fact that Shaunas eyes were actively avoiding you as she grabbed Jackie's wrist and practically ran out of the gymnasium.

you were so fucking fucked.

the house phone was held up to your ear as you were in your room with your legs propped on your headboard and your eyes were trained on the ceiling. "she heard." were the words that left your mouth for the fifth time during the phone call. a loud groan reached your ear from the other line.

"no she didn't." Taissa said again. after having seen Shauna you ended up freaking out the whole car ride home. Lottie was always the one to give you ride to and from school which meant she had to be the one to hear you go on and on about the fact that Shauna and Jackie would probably tell the whole school. or Jackie would tell Jeff and he would or Shauna would tell someone and they would and so on. words were spilling from your lips faster than you or Lottie could process but she still tried her best to listen and reassure you that it would all be okay. yeah right. like you were going to believe that it would all be okay.

you rolled your eyes at Taissas effort to console you. "of course she did. she could barely look at me! i can't do this. i'm skipping school tomorrow." you shook your head.

"no you aren't. your parents would kill you." she responded which was true. but you figured being grounded was better than having to face Shauna. at least then you'd have an excuse to not go to Jeff's party which she would most definitely be attending.

"i can live with that." you nodded even though she couldn't see. you could practically feel her roll her eyes through the line.

Taissa huffed, "seriously y/n. it's not a big deal. people have crushes all the time, it's not the end of the world"

"it is when you're a lesbian and you know that" you responded with a slight drop in your voice, almost as if someone else could hear.

the line was silent for a couple of seconds which you knew meant that what you had said was right and she had no way of arguing with you. "maybe," she agreed. "but it'll go away in a couple of days. something will probably happen at Jeff's party and that'll be the new gossip. just come to school tomorrow. Van, Lot and i will be there with you" she said a lot more thoughtfully this time.

you contemplated her words. you didn't doubt that they'd try their best to distract you from the whole ordeal but at the same time you weren't sure if you could deal with Shauna avoiding you. it's not like you were close anyway, she only talked to you if it was about soccer or once in a blue moon when you went to parties but it never got further than that. maybe it wouldn't be that different. maybe she'd make things normal for the sake of the team. god you hoped so.

like promised Taissa, Van and Lottie were with you during the whole practice. it was just a scrimmage so you didn't have to interact with Shauna much but during the small amount of times that you did she would try her best to look anywhere else but at you. every time it happened you couldn't help but feel a tightening sensation in your chest and a wave of embarrassment to wash over you.

the actual school part was fine, it seemed as if you were wrong about everyone finding out because it was just like any normal day. it had been another junior that got everyone's attention, not you. that was a relief.

once the whistle blew which indicated that practice was over you ran into the locker room to wash off as quickly as possible so you could go home. just five minutes later you were dressed in your light jeans and white hoodie. your three friends were standing near you talking amongst themselves while they were still getting dressed, not exactly in a rush like you were. you were on the bench tying your shoes as quickly as you possibly could, too distracted to notice anyone around you. if you had maybe you would've seen Jackie and Shauna whispering hastily but a couple inches away. the ones who did notice were the three musketeers that had been teasing you about her since you confessed to them.

the three of them glance at each other confused by what was going on. they wouldn't have cared if Jackie wasn't motioning in your direction with her head. it didn't click until they saw Shauna take a breath and begin to approach you with nervously. it was obvious by her posture her and the way she kept glancing at her fiddling hands before looking up at you, who was still getting your last shoe tied.

"y/n," Taissa said softly hitting your arm with the back of her hand. the action made you roll your eyes. you quickly finished tying before looking at her.

"what?" you asked annoyed. she looked at your with pursed lips as she motioned to the brunette with her head as slyly as possible. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Lottie and Van turned their body and began to take a couple steps toward the door so they could give you privacy. Taissa didn't seem to have gotten the hint causing her girlfriend to whisper her name twice before she finally went with them.

by then you had already met Shaunas nervous gaze. at first you thought she was going to confront you about what she had heard and maybe tell you that it wasn't going to happen and you needed to get over her but that thought quickly vanished once you saw Jackie smiling at the both of you on the other side of the locker room. your brows shot up as you realized what was happening, your nerves began to sky rocket and you could swear you felt your heart skip a beat.

the brunette stood directly in front of you, both of her arms at her side by you could see her hands gripping at the end of her flannel which she seemed to do a lot when she's nervous. you blinked, once, twice before you finally stood up from the bench and shot her a shy smile. "hi" you breathed out. if Shauna didn't look like she was struggling internally you would've been afraid that she had seen how nervous you looked.

"hey," Shauna responded and finally looked directly at you. when her brown eyes met yours, a dozen butterflies began to swarm in your stomach which made you feel queasy. "i . ." she trailed off, almost looking behind her but she stopped herself before she could. "yesterday i kind of overheard you talking." she said. the butterflies soon turned into dread at the thought of how wrong you were about how this conversation could've gone.

fuck, fuck. you wished you had one of your friends to hold onto but you didn't. you were standing on your own with the girl you were madly in love with in front of you. "im sorry about that" you rushed out, hoping with every fiber of your being that she wouldn't humiliate you. "i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable and i promise i'll back off if you want-"

Shaunas voice cut you off before you could continue to spurt out apologies. "no," she said quickly making you shut up instantly. no? what does that mean? she sighed which made her shoulders visibly relax, "i like you too." she confessed lowly.

she.. what..? at first you weren't sure if you had heard her correctly or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you but by the hopeful smile plastered on the brunettes lips you were positive it hadn't all been a dream. holy shit.

"you-you do?" you asked nervously.

Shauna smiled and nodded, "yeah." she confirmed a lot less timid than she had been before. nothing was said on your end, the only reaction that came from you was the sight of your eyes widening and your jaw dropping slightly. Shauna almost thought you were adorable. it didn't click that you weren't going to say anything until Jackie cleared her throat behind the brunette, snapping her out of it. "i was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?" she finally asked.

she expected you to have a delayed reaction like you had been having since the conversation started but you didn't. instead your lips quirked into a smile and you nodded, "yeah. id love that" you confirmed.

that seemed to be enough to make her smile widen. "cool. i'll pick you up tonight?"

all you could do was nod. the brunette shot you one last smile before turning around and walking up to Jackie. the two of them left the bathroom quickly after leaving you standing there with your jaw slacked, completely frozen in place. the three girls still in the room ran toward you and began to squeal in delight knocking some sense into you.

"i told you she liked you back!" Lottie exclaimed happily but all you could do was smile.

the date was amazing. she had taken you to a small italian place. the lights were dim and they had the typical checkered table clothe along with a single candle in the middle of the table. it was a bit awkward at first, neither of you knew what to talk about so it of course resulted in soccer. after that the conversation seemed to have flown freely, it shifted to personal things and so on. you had almost lost hope that the date would so be so awkward that you'd have to just stay friends but that thought left your mind quickly after. the longer the date lasted the more you felt a fluttery feeling form in your stomach.

an hour and a half later the two of your had left the restaurant and Shauna began to drive you home. it was pretty silent compared to the restaurant. Shauna had put on music which was sounding softly in the background whilst you looked out the window. truthfully, you were itching to do something, hold her hand or maybe even kiss her but you were too scared to. you didn't want to mess things up. Shauna continued to drive in the direction of your home silently until you saw an ice cream shop and offered to buy some since she had been the one that paid for dinner. the brunette didn't seem opposed to the idea and so she pulled into the parking lot that was relatively empty because it was so late.

a scoop of strawberry was on your cone and chocolate was on hers as you both leaned against the hood of her car. it wasn't awkward, it was actually nice. you'd never really thought you could feel so comfortable not having to fill the silence on a first date but Shaunas whole demeanor was just so calm. you weren't sure why she was so different compared to anyone else or if it was all in your head and she was the one feeling awkward. regardless, you turned to face her direction as you began to talk.

"you know . . this is the first date i've ever be on" you confessed a bit shyly. your eyes were trained on your strawberry ice cream and you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. if that didn't make it obvious, the light pink hue on your cheeks surely did. Shauna looked up from her ice cream with her eyebrows raised in surprise. she was sure she had seen you hanging out with guys before. maybe they had just been friends but it didn't seem that way. not to mention the fact that everyone loved you. regardless of your sexuality, guys and girls loved how nice you always were to everyone. the boys especially loved looking at your sweet smile or listening to your laugh even though they knew you were just laughing to make them feel better. being pretty was just the nail on the coffin.

she had her reasons to ask you out, that was a given, but you being the sweetheart that the whole school loved, well, it just made it all the better. hearing that this had been your first date was shocking, surely someone would've already wanted to take you out. she had even seen you with the captain of the basketball team but maybe that was just a fling.

"really?" was her quiet surprise.

hearing her talk made you finally get the courage to look at her. "yeah. is it that surprising?"

Shauna shook her head quickly, "i just thought you dated Mason" she explained. the last thing she wanted to do was offend you or make you feel bad about your dating status. it's not like she'd been on many dates either.

the truth was that you had hung out with the captain of the basketball team. he was cute, had curly black hair that was always perfect. he had a sharp jawline and a perfect smile, not to mention the body of an athlete and he was kind. but he was just like any other guy. his idea of a date was hanging out in his basement with his friends whilst they got drunk or high with you on his arm, almost as if you were a prize. it lasted three months before you couldn't take it anymore. you didn't even talk, when he picked you up to take you to school he would just blast music. during lunch he'd talk to his friends and the one time you went out, he took you to watch a horror movie and tried to put his hand down your pants but you punched him before he could. it was then that you realized he only wanted to be the first guy to ever sleep with you.

after him you began to crush on Shauna so no one else would pry your mind like she would. she'd be the only girl you could think of during the day or before bed. the only time you wouldn't think about her smile and those brown eyes was when you slept.

your lips curved, "we hung out but the only time he took me out, he tried to do stuff that i didn't which led to a punch in the face. so i don't really consider it one" you said with a shy laugh. it was hesitant and Shauna could tell you were embarrassed by what you had just confessed.

"oh" she said her big eyes widening before she began to laugh along with you. that made you feel better about the whole thing.

you shrugged, "yeah. i guess im the cliche kind of spontaneous roses or dancing in the rain or showing up at my doorstep with a boombox. i don't know. i'm kind of a hopeless romantic which is stupid." with a shake of your head, you looked back down at your ice cream. the same blush that had been prominent practically throughout the whole night was still there and it was making your body burn in slight embarrassment.

Shauna was quick to reassure you, "it's not."

her words made your eyes snaps toward her. "really?" you asked hopeful.

she nodded. "yeah. i mean everyone is in a sense. i've actually always wanted someone to make a mixtape for me." she confessed and you could tell she was a bit flustered by her pink cheeks and the way her eyes kept darting down toward her shoes.

a smile formed on your lips. "why a mixtape?"

Shauna smiled as well. "i don't know. i guess the idea of someone taking the time to choose a song and everything is just really romantic" the two of you looked at one another for the first time that night. you saw her and she saw you. it was then that you realized who she was, not just the idea of her. and if you were being honest, it only made you fall even more.

that night during the drive to your house, you learned more about her. her favorite color, her favorite song, the reason she started playing soccer and even how she and Jackie became best friends. when she finally pulled up to your house, you expected her to just drop you off and leave but she didn't. instead, when you turned to say goodbye, she leaned in to press her lips against yours. it was sweet and short. even then, it had been the most magical kiss you'd ever experienced.

music was blasting through the speakers throughout the crowded home. drunk teens were all over the place, some just talking, others making out or playing beer pong. there was smoke from some teens smoking weed and some places were sticky with alcohol that had been spilled because of how drunk they were. outside, where there was a full moon and bright stars crowded around, drunk teens were in the hot tub and others just standing around with a drink in hand. the yellowjackets - mostly all were downstairs where most were playing beer pong. Jackie and Jeff were going against Taissa and Shauna. you had already gone but you sucked massively so you asked Tai to take your place.

you were standing to the side in between Lottie and Van who were talking about the last match which you all had won the last second. you weren't paying much attention, having to listen to them and also the four teens playing was starting to make you dizzy. Shauna and Taissa were competitive which meant they were trying their hardest to win. throughout most of it you could hear Jeff egging them on and telling them they sucked. it was obvious they were all joking by the way Shauna and Taissa had quick joking responses. even Jackie was in on trying to get in their head so she and her boyfriend could win. the prize? you weren't sure, probably just bragging rights but that didn't matter to them.

it was Jeff's infamous halloween party, you had arrived with Lottie since Shauna had gotten ready with Jackie. when the two of you decided to make it official, you didn't realize you also had to include Jackie in almost everything. they were best friends, sure, but Lottie was yours and you didn't have to include her when you hung out or had to cancel plans because she felt like you were neglecting her. you couldn't help but wonder if Shauna did that to her when it came to her and Jeff's relationship. just the other day you had planned a cute picnic date since it was going to be the last time it would be hot out, it ended up being Shauna, you and Jackie. maybe they didn't feel it but to you, it was awkward as hell. you spent the better half of the date listening to Jackie and Shauna talk as if they were alone and you knew your girlfriend felt bad, especially when she would place her hand on your thigh when you looked like you were zoning out or the way she would ask what you thought about the topic. it was sweet of her to think of you but you would've preferred if she had just cancelled.

that specific day had been no different. Lottie and you had gotten ready at your house. Lottie had on a purple skirt and a white shirt whilst you had on a black dress with thin lace at the edges of it. it wasn't irregular for you to wear such short dresses but the way Shauna looked at you when she saw you was like no one else had. sure, guys would gawk over you or check you out shamelessly but it was different when it came to her. she looked at you as if she needed you and you loved it. your girlfriend had on a short dress and you were sure that had been Jackie's doing and not hers.

it had been three hours so you arrived there and it was now almost two in the morning. you were a bit tired but Shauna seemed to be having fun so you didn't want to ruin that for her. she was your ride home after all. Lottie had offered but you hadn't been alone with the brunette since your first date which was almost three weeks ago and you wanted some privacy.

one red cup was left on both sides and the tension was growing between the four teens. Van and Lottie's conversation had been long forgotten as soon as they realized how close the game was to ending. it was Jackie's turn, everyone was tense as they watched her get the perfect angle. a moment later the ball flew across the table and landed swiftly in the last cup. groans erupted between Taissa and Shauna while Jackie squealed. you saw her turn to Jeff and throw her arms over his shoulders followed by him picking her up and spinning her. not really caring for them, you turned toward your girlfriend and friend instead. Taissa booed at them but it didn't really matter to her so she turned toward Van and Lottie to explain how she did have amazing skills but she 'had too many drinks'. that instilled a chuckle of amusement from you.

your eyes trailed away from your friends and toward your girlfriend who was looking at her best friend silently. at first you thought she was just being petty for losing but the longer you looked, the more it made sense. it had nothing to do with the game, it was them. you'd realized that when you first started paying attention to the brunette, the way she'd always look at Jackie distantly when she was with Jeff or the way everyone would always direct their attention toward Jackie and only ever acknowledged her presence with a small greeting. it was always about Jackie and you wanted things to change. things would be different with you, you'd make sure of that.

a smile curved on your lips and you took a step toward your girlfriend. the action made her finally pay attention to you, a small smile forming on her own lips. once you were close enough, you interlaced your hands on the back of her neck and pulled her close to you. "hi," you whispered softly which made her smile grow. she still had her hands at her side, something that had been a habit of hers since your first date. she was always too shy to touch you in any way, probably too afraid that you'd somehow not like her touch and pull away. that never crossed your mind though. instead of waiting for her to decide for herself, you grabbed her hands and placed them around your waist before putting your own back on her shoulders.

"hi," was her low response. you leaned in to peck her lips once making her smile grow and a light pink color to form on her face. you always found it extremely cute that she'd always blush when you kissed her.

she gripped your hips a bit tighter in support which you didn't mind. "wanna go upstairs?" you asked lowly so that none of your friends could hear you and make a big deal out of it. they had been teasing you about any little thing ever since your first date and although you weren't thinking about doing anything other than making out, you knew they wouldn't believe that.

the brunette nodded softly. that was enough confirmation for you to grab her hand and turn to the rest of the teens. "we're gonna get refills," you and began to walk away, not giving them enough time to protest. they were going to play another round which you knew and you didn't want any of them pulling her back. it was about time you had some alone time with your girlfriend.

"yeah sure," Tai called out behind you, "use protection!" she further teased making you roll your eyes in annoyance. with the hand that wasn't interlocked with Shaunas, you held it up and gave her the finger which earned snickers from the rest of the teens.

it didn't take long to get upstairs. there were some drunk teens crowding around the stairs and others making out in your way which made you have to shove past way too many people. the first room you entered was the bathroom so you quickly closed it and went to the next closed door. you wished you hadn't when you saw two half naked teens making out in Jeff's parents bedroom. finally, the next bedroom was empty and from what Shauna had told you, it was a guest room.

Shauna sat on the bed while you locked the door behind you. there was a sense of both excitement and nerves rumbling in your chest. not to mention the zoo of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. she was just Shauna. the girl who was probably just as nervous as you. the girl who had been nothing but sweet with you since you asked her to be your girlfriend. the girl who would open your car door or carry your backpack when she knew you had a more intense practice compared to her. the girl who would leave sweet little notes in your locker when you first started do it to her.

with deep silent breaths, you walked up to the brunette who was sitting at the very edge of the bed. she did look nervous. you could tell by her fingertips that were tapping against her thighs and the way she was biting her lip. it was probably the alcohol running through your body but it was enough courage to straddle her lap. you were hesitant at first, keeping your arms to your side so that she could push you off if she wanted to. she didn't. she placed her hand on your waist like she had just minutes before which helped you place your own hands on her shoulders for support.

you couldn't contain a smile, even when you bit your bottom lip to mask it. of course she'd still see how she was the one to make you like this. "i really like you." the words came out in a low whisper. you were close enough to smell the beer still lingering on her breath. close enough that you could see her soft skin and every little detail on her face. so close all you had to do was lean in a little bit and your lips would be on hers.

"i really like you too," she admitted in a whisper. her eyes kept glancing down at your lips and you knew what she wanted. you knew she wanted it but she couldn't do it. she was afraid to do something wrong or to mess things up with you. so you did it for her.

the distance closed between the two of you as you pressed your lips against hers. she kissed back instantly, her hands gripping at your waist which you had learned was a nervous habit of hers. typically the action would make you smile at how cute she was but the alcohol in you was making your body grow hot in a way you knew well. the kiss was slow at first. you were trying your best to let her ease into it since it was the first time you kissed longer than just a couple of seconds. you eased your way into it, leading her throughout it until she finally eased into it.

then the kiss grew rougher. her hands gripped at your waist a lot harsher as your tongues glided against one another. it was fast and hot and it made you want to grind onto her but you didn't. you weren't ready for that. not yet at least.

instead you gripped the back of her neck in support and got lost in the kiss. neither of you pulled away until your chests were burning with the need of oxygen. it was you who pulled away, both of your chest heaving up and down. pink lips were swollen and both of your pupils were blown out. the temperature in the room had began to rise and although you wanted to take things further, you didn't.

Shauna couldn't help but overthink if you thought she was good. did you think she was a bad kisser so you pulled away? were you going to tell that her that you wanted to go downstairs? it caused a wave of panic to rush through her so she did what she had seen done in movies dozens of times before. she leaned in to press kisses against your jaw, they were light and almost made you giggle but you fought the urge to. it didn't take long for her kisses to reach her neck. she pressed a small light kiss against your skin which made you smile and a small shiver to run down your spine. a second later she pressed down a lot rougher, her mouth opening and her tongue gliding against your skin. you moaned softly at the feeling and tangled your hands through her dark locks. when she began to suck at the skin, you pulled her hair a bit rougher than intended. the action fueled her pride, as well as every little noise you were making. even though you were trying to muffle it why biting your lip, she could still clearly hear you.

she didn't stop until you pulled her back by her hair so she'd meet your gaze. it's not that you wanted to stop but you were afraid that if she didn't, you'd take things further and regret it the next morning. a look of worry flashed through her eyes when you stopped her but you didn't let her overthink as you leaned in to kiss her. the kiss was wet and slow, unlike the one just before. she accepted your tongue gracefully and you could hear the lude noise throughout the room along with heavy breathing. as the kiss progressed, you realized you were wearing a dress and you began to realize that there was a possibly that she could feel how turned on you were. that made you pull away.

her eyes were closed as you looked down at her which made you smile. when they began to flutter open you leaned down to peck her lips quickly before pulling away completely. your teeth were on display as you smiled down at her. you were sure your cheeks were pink because so were here. she looked more disheveled though, her lips were a dark shade and her hair was messy from you pulling on it.

when the both of you recovered from such an intense kiss you both stood up, ready to go downstairs. you helped her fix her hair before you fixed your own appearance in the mirror. it didn't come to your attention that there something on you that hadn't been there when you first entered until Shauna pointed it out.

"shit," she whispered, her eyes locked on your neck. "im sorry, i didn't mean to." she nervously explained. you raised a brow at her, not really caught up on what she was apologizing for. instead of asking, you turned to the mirror and looked where her eyes had previously been staring.

oh.

there was a purple mark on your neck. it wasn't huge but it wasn't exactly small. definitely big enough that anyone else could see. it didn't bother you though. you actually found it kind of hot. you turned toward the brunette with a smile, "it's okay. i don't mind" were your words as you places a comforting hand on her arm.

"are you sure?" she asked quickly, far too anxious to believe you.

you nodded. "yeah. i'm sure"

the wave of relief that washed over her made your smile grow.

lights were hanging all around. there was christmas music in every store, on the radio and on the television. decorations were up on most homes making their house with Santa Clauses or Reindeers. christmas movies were on every channel and stores were packed with shoppers. it was the happiest time of the year and that was true for the couple. the time of year in which most families got together or traveled to celebrate.

wrapping paper was spread around the living room, the chimney on with the christmas tree lit up. the smell of freshly baked cookies and hot chocolate lingered around the kitchen and living room while 'home alone' was playing on the tv. there were kids running around playing with their new presents while the moms were in the kitchen making dinner. the dads of course, were sitting around talking or watching the movie on the screen. you weren't doing any of those things. instead, you were upstairs with your girlfriend who had snuck in after you finished opening presents. the brunette was laying down with you on her chest while you watched a christmas cartoon.

she had been there for almost two hours and you still had another hour before dinner was ready. you had asked your parents if she could come over but they had said no, claiming it was christmas and everyone should be with their family, including you. if only you actually talked to any of your family though. all of your cousins were children and the only one who was around your age, went to Mexico with her boyfriends family. that meant you had to either stick with your dad or your mom. both things sounded boring.

considering it was almost time for her to leave, you figured it was time to give her, her present. when she first arrived you exchanged presents but you had another one that you knew she'd love even more. she had gifted you a necklace with her initial on it, something you had been hinting at wanting since she gave you that hickey during the halloween party. after that night, it was as if neither of you could get enough. every time the mark would fade she'd make new ones. it would always result in your friends teasing you but it was with it. but like expected, your parents saw them when you had gotten in your hot tub. you had completely forgotten about it and didn't apply makeup like you always would. after that they said they wanted to meet your girlfriend. that was a very awkward dinner. your mom had made a 'sly' comment about how hickeys are tacky which left Shauna embarrassed. you hated that. she didn't even try to leave one after that day which would always leave you craving something to show that you were hers. it was soon after that in which you mentioned the necklace.

when you sat up, her arm fell from your waist. she looked at you confused, not expecting you to get up so abruptly. you moved across the room quickly and rummaged your desk until you finally found it. you quickly grabbed it and held it in the air as you turned your body in one swift motion. Shauna looked at you with wide eyes as, a smile playing on her lips at your excited state.

"i have one more present for you" were your words as you got back on the bed on your knees. you shuffled toward the brunette as fast as possible and handed it to her once you were close enough.

the brunette frowned gently, "i thought we said one present each" she said, now upset that she had only gotten you one whilst you had gotten her two.

with a shake of your head you looked down at the wrapped object. "it didn't cost me anything. it's just a small thing that i figured you'd like" you shrugged.

she looked a little hesitant but once she saw how hopeful you looked, her frowned turned into a smile once more and she began to unwrap it. considering how small it was, it didn't take long for the red and white wrapping to be crumbled into a ball on the bed. she looked confused at first as she looked at the cassette until she saw the words written on it. 'when i think of you -y/n'

her big brown eyes looked shiny as she looked down at it with her lips slightly parted in shock. suddenly her body came whirling towards you as she wrapped her arms around your body. she leaned back for a quick moment to kiss you softly before she leaned into the hug once more. you giggled softly at her actions. "those are the songs i always listen to what i think of you. which is always by the way." you said. even though it sounded as if you were joking, you weren't.

#shauna shipman x fem!reader #shauna yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman imagines #jackie taylor #lottie matthews #taissa turner

[orbmanson7]

Mm, there's so many things I want to say about the new asides episode, mainly because it was so obviously based on the secret santa scenario from the patreon livestream a little while back...

The only thing Thomas really changed was Logan being the organizer instead of Janus and then Patton's gift to Remus. Most of the chat said he'd get Remus an octopus plushie or a slime stim toy, but I agree with the change because it works really well and rounds out the message at the end, too.

Something that the chat had also been insistent on was giving Logan a Perfect gift, and since Logan was the character hosting the stream, he kept insisting that while Virgil knows his interests, it probably wouldn't be something perfect (pretty sure we decided on a space-themed Lego set that was definitely not specifically my own idea I had put out there or anything 👀), so it was fantastic having that turned around into a fun little puzzle which not only got us some tasteful angst but also gave Logan an interesting and unique present that he would absolutely enjoy, which is exactly what we all wanted!

Again, all the other presents were more or less the same, with maybe less gore involved in Remus' present to Virgil, and with about the same responses, too, which was great! Patton genuinely enjoying his present even though it was meant to be a joke, Janus actually getting a second real present that benefits him, Roman not immediately on board with his gift because it's not extravagant but then realizing the freedom and flexibility that comes with it is its own reward... It was all wonderful.

It also, as with the last little asides episode, gives us a great idea of where everyone stands (I guess both literally in Thomas' mindspace as well as, you know, narratively).

It feels significant that Logan insists that Janus and Remus be included in their activities, but acknowledges that they are traveling there, implying the dark sides don't just hang around or anything, they come and go, which makes sense.

Virgil still vehemently hates Janus but isn't making barbs about his inclusion like he has in the past, and Roman still seems uncomfortable with his brother being around while Remus just seems delighted to be included at all. Roman still has animosity with Janus, understandably, but he's already kind of begrudgingly making his way towards acceptance with him.

Now for the more interesting details - first, Janus and Remus purposefully trying to egg on Logan's anger. Not the first time, but they seem more excited about it here rather than teasing him about it as they have before, which definitely implies confidence that it's not only prevalent but also definitely plot-relevant for the future, not that that was even a question at this point.

Next, it's interesting that Janus and Remus seem to be able to bounce off each other even with how very different they are, but the light sides are so full of discontent that there's a natural discourse with their gifts until there's a chance to explain... It shows that the light sides do not have natural trust in each other, which should be obvious but here it's on display in front of the dark sides, too. They are so clearly at odds (even if they can eventually come around) when the dark sides seem to have figured their shit out.

Also, it's nice to see Patton's gift did, in a way, emulate Virgil's gift from the first Christmas episode, as it also kind of implies Janus' acceptance in that way.

I was actually quite delighted to see that Logan's gift to Roman wasn't just the joke from the livestream, but that it showed Logan did genuinely put thought into the gift but realized he wasn't going to be able to meet the expectations of someone with a limitless imagination and instead played into that fact rather than try to war against it, using something not only practical but unconventional to someone like Roman, something he wouldn't expect but would be able to appreciate with time... And also something that technically takes the decision-making tension away from Logan and makes it Roman's problem instead, though Roman wouldn't be one to overthink and view it as a problem, so it works out extremely well. Finding balance and all that.

And then, of course, the end card scene being really adorable and sweet - that Thomas was thinking about gift-giving because he'd wanted to get something perfect for Nico, and I will agree that he did a great job, adding a tiny bit of (somewhat fresh) nostalgia and catering to Nico's interests...but then wanting to make what is usually perceived as a Big step in what is still a budding relationship, ooh boy... That's definitely some plot setup right there!

Overall, a fantastic episode, based on a lot of ideas from a wonderful livestream - I genuinely loved this. It makes me very hopeful for the season finale, whenever we do eventually get it!

#sanders sides #sanders asides #spoilers #sanders sides spoilers #orbs thought bubbles #long post #this wasnt meant to go on this long whoops

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hello!! I love your blog so much!

I wanted to ask you for whenever you get a chance, why do you think Hobie doesn't like Peter B? Do you think he knew about Peter B's relationship to Miles since before The Spider Society was created and was disappointed with him not defending Miles somehow? Or something else? I find it hella interesting that Hobie DID only have something to say about Peter B but not Miguel despite everything happening in that scene.

Thank you! 💖 Absolutely.

I feel like Hobie without a doubt knows everything about what happened. And he dislikes Peter B. because unlike Gwen - he doesn't have an excuse. And she does.

And that's why

Peter B. Parker is far more toxic of a person and a mentor to Gwen than Jess could EVER be. a.k.a Peter's influence on Gwen, his trust of Miguel, and 'Why was Jessica Gwen's mentor to begin with?'

[An analysis where I yell about the fact that Peter B. left Gwen homeless instead of opening his house to her. And how he didn't step up to be her mentor. And why Hobie Brown should hit him with a guitar.]

Am I saying that Jessica Drew is basically innocent. I might be. _____________________________________________

Peter B. Parker joined the society before Gwen, because we see him with Miguel when his daughter dies. Let's keep that in mind.

Gwen is adopted into the society as an emergency recruit - based solely on the fact that she's homeless. Had her father not shot at her, Miguel and Jess probably would've left her there with him, and she wouldn't have joined.

So, Gwen joined specifically to escape homelessness. She didn't know they didn't know about the Spider-verse and the Society's distaste for Miles until later.

Imagining what that must've been like for Gwen is wild.

I bet she was delighted to see Peter B. I bet her first thought was "Where's Miles? Peni's here, you're here, I'm here, Where's Miles?"

Peter and Miguel probably had to be the ones to tell her why Miles wasn't there. Peter probably had to help Miguel convince Gwen, otherwise, how else would get her SO on board? Who is she gonna believe more, Jess telling her Miles is a mistake -

or Peter telling Gwen Miles is a mistake?

And I imagine she'd be looking at Peter like '??? What do mean????? You know Miles, this Miguel dude doesn't. Peter wtf????'

Peter was probably a HUGE influence on Gwen staying in the society and accepting their propaganda around Miles. He was the only adult she knew in a strange futuristic society. Peter was probably smiling and happy to see her, and because she trusted him and he trusted Miguel - that probably fed into Gwen trusting Miguel.

So, One reason I think Hobie hates him is his loyalty to Miguel and that influence on Gwen.

Secondly, I think it's also that Hobie knows everything that has happened from beginning to end.

Hobie's first line to Miles - "This the yungun-" implies that Gwen has told him about Miles. And I'm assuming that also includes their first meeting - as well as the other Spider-people.

Gwen met Miles and Peter at the same time, and in telling Hobie this - he learns a lot about Peter B he didn't know before. Hobie met Peter B. through Miguel. Whether he knew Peter knew Miles personally before Gwen and told him - we don't know. But he knew Peter through the Society. And Gwen came later.

Before - Peter was probably just an annoying dad at HQ. But now, Hobie suddenly had context about him. Coming from someone he cares about - Gwen. Not only do Gwen and Peter know each other - but Peter ALSO knows Miles (the Original Anomoly on Campus) and he's not sticking up for EITHER of them?

I feel like as soon as Gwen told him about Peter knowing Miles - Hobie would hate his guts.

From Hobie's POV:

Gwen has an excuse. She didn't know about Miles until after she joined, she can't leave or else she'll be homeless, and the ONE adult she knows is completely 100% in Miguel's pocket.

I feel like Peter B. is soo much more dangerous and influential to Gwen than Jessica could ever be.

And the fact that he had months to step up and mentor her but just..didn't. That speaks volumes.

Sure, Gwen admires Jess. But Gwen knows Peter, she trusts him to be a person to fight for good, because they'd done it together before. She's scared, she's alone, and she's found one person she trusts. And he says to trust Miguel.

That would absolutely be more powerful than anything Jessica could possibly do or say in my opinion.

I feel like that's something that the fandom just ignores. Peter is there, all the time. Anytime Jess is pressuring Gwen - shouldn't he be the one to watch out for her?

But when he's yelling and throwing things at Gwen it's "Aww chill out Miguel - hold my baby, you're so uptight."

Dude. Defend her.

You can't tell me "Peter didn't know that Miguel yells at kids-" OH? So where was he when Miguel and Jessica where probably disciplining her for months. Gwen walks in expecting to be yelled at, so it's not like its a rare thing.

Peter knows Miguel yells at Gwen.

PETER LITERALLY COUL'DVE JUST HAD GWEN MOVE IN WITH HIM!!!! HE HAS A HOUSE!!!!!

But instead he let her be HOMELESS, and sleep at Hobie's house.

That's. Not okay. Peter entirely in the wrong on so many levels that Jessica isn't even in the picture anymore.

I think Hobie would HATE Peter's guts. Because he has had every chance to call Miguel out, to protect Gwen, to look out for her - hell, why isn't HE her official mentor? Why isn't he the one asking her for mission reports. Instead of passing it off to the pregnant black women she's known for less than six months?

Everyone is like "Oh, Jess is so mean. She treats Gwen so mean-"

She's doing her job. That's what she sees it as. If Gwen wanted comfort from an adult - she should have Peter there for her.

But he wasn't. He expected Jessica to do that for some reason. A pregnant woman who Gwen just met.

He could've housed her. But he didn't do that. He expected Hobie to do that.

Peter saw Gwen come in homeless, scared, and depressed. And what did he do - he didn't try to help her. He hold her to trust Miguel. An adult.

And then he walks around like father of the year with Mayday - when he can't even step up for Gwen OR Miles? Couldn't even offered her a bed, or actually tell Miguel to not raise his voice at a teenager.

He didn't. But hold the baby.

I'm surprised that Hobie ain't approach Peter like - "Gwen HAS to be here, you don't. Jess and Miguel don't know Miles. YOU DO. Why shouldn't I hit you with the guitar right now? Answer quickly."

You already know Hobie don't play that. He's being nice for Gwen's sake.

'Humbling Reality Spider-man' Indeed.

#FUCK Peter B Parker all my homies HATE Peter B. #Gwen deserves better #Spidernoir the superior PeterB #as usu no proofread yet #Hobie brown #peter b. parker #gwen stacy #miles morales #jessica drew #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #spiderman #spider man #spiderman 2099 #atsv #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderpunk #spider punk #spidergwen #spider gwen

[oblique-lane]

REPOST FROM REPLY

TL;RD: How tf2 mercs got their jobs, speculation (stemmed from the topic about why mercenaries are “evil” but still people.) My, my, well, I don't have hopes for the official comics but I am willing to explore this topic further.

Aside from Sniper, what are others' wounds that made them join this blasphemous corporation?? People don't pay much attention to it but how did the mercs join Mann Co. in the first place? They didn't just go there, knocked on the door and asked for employment, right? So what are the backstories?

I'm guessing Mann Co. wanted the best of the best men out there, but those who would actually take insane risks of their lives. This kind of reminds me of Portal but instead of Olympic champions and astronauts, Mann Co. wanted ABNORMAL men. What that means exactly is still an open question for now. But hear me out, Valve heroes are never trained fighters, they are just very desperate and have no other choice but to proceed.

Why would mercs be different?

I mean, is any one of them a certified fighter? I mean yeah, Engineer has 11 PhDs but he's still more of a mad scientist rather than a formal doc. Any other?? Soldier who has never been in a war, Medic with no license, unregistered demolition, mental hospital refugee, Scout who is just a street boy wtf is he doing at the frontline??

Smells fishy, isn't it?

They wouldn't be here if they were really trained professionals. So that's why I assume they got here because they had no other place to go. And Surprisingly, in here, they got everything they wished for.

(these are my headcanons that I tried to build based on logic, however, their bases aren't exactly stable, keep in mind)

Sniper wanted to be violent legally, so he doesn't think about his moral struggles anymore (except when he talks to his dad in the phone).

Scout was a school dropout who didn't have many options of what to work as. Although, while they were always diners and gas stations, his family of million brothers pushed him and his pride down, so in order to become a bigger man in society's eyes, he applied to military service. Probably meant to Korea or Vietnam but was redirected to Mann Co. instead.

Heavy had really difficult clashes with the Soviet Government (being a national enemy by many articles) he went to make money to US. He was probably known by Mann Co. even before his change of settlement, they knew the story about the Gulag demolition/escape, so they got interested in this person's potential.

While not being a nazi himself, Medic worked in the closed german experimental camps because it was the only place his unlicensed ass could apply (fleeing country in the wartime wasn't an option). And they needed mad scientist. However, instead of using prisoners as a resource, he made them super humans (baboon hearts kind of shit) so these prisoners killed the security guards and escaped. To avoid state persecution, Medic immigrated to America where was known and got invited to work for we-know-who.

Engineer's work is generational.

I don't know much about Demoman's lore (it's a little confusing) but "a reckless alcoholic extremist who desperately needs a job" sounds perfect for who they were looking for.

Spy is obviously not a real spy but rather a skillful conman who made through life by stealing, pretending and seducing rich women. Mafia history might be there too. But he wasn't invincible and the police was a pretty serious problem for him, so joining a secretive organisation was a solid solution. (Plus, someone could make a funny thing by setting up him and Scout together, because they knew.)

Pyro was a person who spent all their life in a mental hospital, seen as dangerous to society/unadjusted. Mann Co. reached to them and gave them a chance, which turned out great.

Soldier, too, was either a mental hospital often guest, a prisoner or a simple local crazy man who has severe amnesia and violent behavior. Good option too.

It's not a place where you could just ask to be employed, as not everyone actually could. It was some kind of a "safe heaven" for those who didn't have another place in the world. It was an insane but a very effective move by Administrator, who wanted this team of abnormal men to unite against something Big and Important ™ of which we still know nothing about. Does it make sense?

#tf2 #just my rambling #tf2 theory #team fortress 2 #team fortress two #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 medic #I hope I haven't annoyed you with my rambles yet #sorry #I'm crazy over these guys

[starflungwaddledee]

hii!! i just wanna say your comic and starspeak lore are SO cool omg!! the way you incorporate the essence of the starfolk culture into their language is incredibly creative and very fitting auauagahsahdbsnsnn <3

i'm pretty interested in all the grammar of the language!! i think you mentioned that there's a question particle that kind of works like mandarin chinese, do other final particles exist? little tone indicators in the language seems like it would help mutual understanding between a bunch of mystical star-beings :0

also, if it's been developed yet, how do verbs work in this? granted, i don't know a lot about greek/latin languages or if you're basing the grammar off of them too, but does it lean more towards romance language's crazy conjugations, or a simpler "subject verb noun" structure?

sorry if this is a lot haha i know the language is still a wip, but it's such a cool concept! i think languages are really interesting and the way you incorporate it into kirby is so mmbdbbrnzmxfh✨✨

alright, this one took me a very long time to get to (because i knew it would be long and i've been working on it on and off for a while) and i'm so sorry! thank you so much for your patience veve! and it's been a little while since we've had a starspeak post so let's go!

(i will preface by saying again that the language is still very much a wip which i could change at any time, and that i'm no trained specialist; i'm just doing this for fun and there's a high chance i fully have no clue what i'm talking about 😅)

❓ i'll start with the easiest one of these and go for the question particle!

i think that Celestials are not often doubtful or questioning things, but when they do the particle is an opener rather than a sentence-final (such as ma (嗎/吗) in mandarin chinese). it otherwise works extremely similarly in that it is tagged on to turn a sentence into a question.

so the most common starspeak question particle is tc, almost a mouth sound than a word. the letters are a combination not often used elsewhere in their speech patterns, which i like to think also wraps back around to them being fairly certain of most things they open their mouths to say.

tc is predominantly used when seeking clarification about someone else's experiences, which is probably one of the more frequent times they wouldn't know something in (self-presumed) absolution.

combining it with some other things we've learned; épios (see) and eu (you) we can ask someone what they're seeing presently, where the target of the speaker (eu) is in active possession of the seeing action and vl is an active tense:

"tc vlépios eu?" // "(what's) seen (by) you?" // "what do you see?"

unfortunately in the conlangs current state, moving things around even a little bit throws out the meaning of sentences a lot, which is something i could probably iron out more with significantly more time 😅 "tc eu vlépios?" for example would be closer to "you're seen?" and "tc vlépios-eu?" would probably be like.. "what sight possesses you?", which is... still kind of the same i suppose but it's just an unnecessarily intense way to say it 😂

🥰 okay! question particle done and it was not actually the easiest but anyway; onto the personaliser! "ki".

i'm not 100% sure if this sort of thing exists in other languages or what it might be called to begin researching, but it's ostensibly a way to turn an external item or concept into something internal or individualised

asté (star/s) for instance is a very overused word in their language, understandably. you can use it to refer to gaseous bodies, other Celestials, other non-Celestial beings, or even a specific individual rank within a relationship system. ei asté applies an amount of ownership over the star/s, but still does not make them an individual in their own right. you would most likely use this if you happened to be carting around an actual giant flaming ball of gas

ei astéki however immediately makes the star something more personal, a little soul-deep. maybe it's a warm light inside you, or maybe it's the beating heart of another living being. dropping the 'ei' you could use this as a nickname, though it'd be kind of like calling someone 'person'.

"ei astéki skotei koris eu" // "my stars dimmed lacking you" // functionally just a really big ham "i missed you"

🤏 alright rolling on, last one: a diminutive. this one's easier i think; maybe i ought have started here. oh well!

like it says on the tin, this is to make things small and/or cute! the particle is ró and it is usually tacked on at or towards the end of a word. much like in english i think this is usually done affectionately. though it could be done a little pettily or rudely, being small in size is significantly less of a negatively-judged-concept by Celestials than being low in brightness.

here's some examples, probably the easiest way to go about this one! all of these are actively affectionate, not unlike a pet name?

moiydísró - (small) cheeky one astéróki - small star (personaliser; makes this a clear nickname) ei Vaýtitaró - my little gravity

💬 and then to wrap up, this last part about verbs and conjugations!

answering this one with complete confidence would require that i were a bit better at this and had it more fixed and figured out, but i'll do my best!! i'm not really basing the grammar off any one language in particular (I only use translations to form a rough sound/word and go from there), just kind of what feels like the right sort of vibe.

because i was just doing this for myself and for fun i didn't start out with any rules, just rolled with what i enjoyed! if you were doing conlang more seriously i think it would help to set those rules up at the outset 😅

in its present state, my starspeak seems to me to be a topic prominent language with less individual conjugations and more modifiers; including significant reliance on sentence order and word placement

so instead of having many different words for see (seen, saw, to see) it's more about the placement, word combinations, and other modifiers;

ei épios - me see (a request, often used in place of 'wake up') vlépios ei - seeing by me (active tense added by vl but it's not strictly necessary) eu épios - you see (the speaker sees the target) épios-koris eu - without seeing by you (sight possesses a term for "lack", so the sight itself is lacking. "you don't see clearly", ostensibly.) épios ei prioto - seeing by me before (i saw it earlier)

this is sort of a necessity because right now the overall variety of words is limited; both by the earliness of its development and also because i think that this is a species that might not have needed a lot of words.

maybe they moved the same few hundred words around and minced them up in new ways rather than making lots of new ones. maybe they might have communicated through body language as much as with words (despite how much galacta knight clearly loves the sound of his own voice) or maybe i'll change my mind and they'll be a talkative bunch and we'll have dozens of new words soon 😂

anyway, i hope this is a ~fun and cool answer~ that you will enjoy despite its incredible lateness and sprawling length!! thank you so so much for asking me about the language; as you can tell i dearly love to talk about it despite its nebulousness, and i'm sorry it took me so long to get this out!

#shout out to my gf who has learned this conlang by proxy and promptly gave me the nickname 'wanyaró' (little wanya) #who needs flirting when you can just pay attention to your gfs boring conlang efforts and then fire it back for 1000hp damage #it's true ~rhomance~ #starspeak #my headcanons and worldbuilding

[landthatplane-blog]

Another steam of consciousness on Mr Daniel Ricciardo and no sleep so apologies in advance if things are a bit scattered.

A little scared to post because tags have been intense.

Anyways....

Happy for Daniel. Everyone criticized him for taking a break last year (which he clearly needed) and not taking a Haas/Williams seat. People thought that he thought he was too good. Well, he's now taking a seat at the last place team, to rebuild and prove himself. He sees a pathway, but he's taking the step down in hopes for a long view move. He is a multiple race winner and probably could have retired but of course, unfinished business. Beauty of the sport. The comeback. He's allowed the chance to rebuild and is literally starting with a back marker team now and knows he has to prove himself. But now, people are pressed he is in a seat. Again, obviously Red Bull see something in him. If they weren't seeing some indication - based on Red Bull's history of being cutthroat - this wouldn't be a conversation. Even on that Simon Rennie/RB podcast, Simon mentioned not wanting to basically lie or hype Daniel up if the results weren't there. There's a trust there. Luckily, they saw something. They literally can't hire Daniel solely for markeing/PR. Does it help? Of course. Everyone has to find value wherever they can. There's only 20 seats people have to take their opportunities where they can.

Alpha Tauri is a junior team narrative. It was but they've obviously repeatedly put out there they're looking for a restructure with one experienced driver and one younger, and they're going to be using Red Bull parts. Two young drivers (unless you're a generational talent like MV) could very well result in little to no points and they're dead last right now. Haas had to bring back two experienced drivers to make up for the previous years of two young drivers. They need an injection of experience.

Pay Driver - He has not had a family member nor a huge corporation buy his way into the sport. He's built a career where people are interested in him - over 10 years - how can people find a way to penalize that? Again, he can't win. Just because he can pull in interest from huge sponsors - again, after years of building a career, that's just the business. If it was based on that person's definition alone - Lewis, Lando would also be pay drivers. But it isn't based on that factor alone. There's so many factors.

A lot of people deserve things, but this is a competitive sport, so nothing is ever guaranteed. Liam may very well deserve a spot on the grid, but you could also say he never would have had this opportunity if not for DR's accident. Also, if he’s as great as people think he is - I’m not too worried for him. People keep going back to Alex Albon's appendix causing the string of recent events but sometimes I think - this all wouldn't have happened if Daniel hadn't left Red Bull in first place lol. Maybe he'd still have his Red Bull seat now! I don't mean that in a he shouldn't have left, just that his leaving kind of caused a similar effect and gave all these other people opportunities lol. But again, that's not really how it works. They're making decisions based on today's circumstances. And now, he's come back but has to re-earn his spot. His leg up is Christian Horner supports him, but he still has to perform to get back. Just think it's funny people are acting like, there won't be hard work or there's no talent (again, drivers don't forget how to drive). It's complicated and impossible to identify who "deserves" a seat more or less. So many variables and impossible to be definitive (the way some people speak as if they know everything/must be right). Guess, we could argue forever which is what's entertaining. That said....

Professionalism/Kindness. While I think everyone knows that the way McLaren handled Daniel's exit was in poor taste, never once did Daniel complain or make excuses. He was professional and continues to be. The results weren't there. When he was fired (let go, released), he understood it. Acknowledged the results weren't there and this was part of the sport (I'll get into that NY Times article another time - but it was clearly not for a lack of trying). Daniel called Oscar Piastri to tell him no hard feelings. Wanted him to still have a positive start. Even Checo has been asked about Daniel "coming after his seat" and presumably under a lot of pressure for 2025 and his response was also professional and an understanding of the sport. He said Daniel's a friend and there are only 20 seats, there's no hard feelings. It's up to him (Checo) to perform. They all understand. Nobody inherently deserves or is guaranteed a seat. Wish some fans would understand. If the drivers aren't publically pressed about it themselves - maybe everyone just calm down. People are just so nasty, and without actually knowing all the information. Twitter/X is the worst. This should be fun, juicy, competitive but no need to bring hate or be nasty.

That's all for now🤷🏻‍♀️. As always, happy to discuss but please be kind (or funny).

#daniel ricciardo #dr3 #danny ric #f1 #formula 1

[famouscyclenerd]

🗣🔊🗣🔊Everybody gets a mate!!!!!!

But why though? Since mates are so rare?🤔

Well first of all Sarah really likes the soulmates trope... if you couldn't tell.. all her main pairings are mated. And that's pretty much why.

You also gotta remember that fae are more or less immortal. If you live longer - the chances of finding your mate grows, right? Especially if your mate is also fae and therefore immortal as well. Rhysand, Cassian, Eris, Mor, Azriel, Tamlin are all over 500 years old. That's half a millennium without a mate. Which is a really long time even for fae.

"Shit, Feyre - I'm not that old." - Lucien Vanserra (a 300+ year old sexy fae male, mind you) Even he thinks 500 is old af.

So what are the patterns for mated pairs? How, and why, and when a bond snaps for each individual differs.

We have Rhys who bascially knew it the first time he met Feyre, but it snapped for him the first time he saw her again after she was turned fae. While Feyre had an inkling, I guess, but she literally had to be told that Rhys was her mate to be able to comprehend it, though she was well aware of the concept of mates long before that. And therefore so were we.

Cassian had suspected it the first time he met Nesta, while she knew it for a while as well but refused to acknowledge it. The bond didn't form between them until winter solstice in SF however.

Kallias and Viviane knew each other since they were kids, but the bond didn't snap between them before they were well into adulthood.

Rhys' parents bond snapped instantly. There is little to know about them however, given that they're both dead. But if it didn't snap instantly, his mother's wings would have been clipped.

Lucien only reacted to Elain as she was pulled towards the cauldron (which to me hinted at a possible mating bond as it was remarked by Feyre several times before it was revealed) and the bond snapped instantly for both of them after she was turned fae.

Sarah is a storyteller. There is no clear pattern for mating bonds because Sarah decides how it develops. What works best for the greatest love story? She alone decides who will be mates based on personality and compatibility between the characters. She is no stranger to retconning stuff to make different romantic pairings work e.g changing Lucien's mate from Nesta to Elain (also changing his heritage because that would go well with Elain) and figuring out that Mor and Azriel wouldn't work as well as she initially thought.

A common denominator however (besides them being mates) is that none of the parings stories starts off with them already being in love. SJM always writes about the process of the pairs falling in love with each other. It's what I personally prefer as well. If they are already in love, then the love story is kinda over as well tbh.

Anyways...

If the patterns were the same, it would be boring and even more predictable. Had Feyre found out at the end of ACOTAR and at the same time as Rhysand, then there would have been no more speculation in anticipation for the second installment. Tamlin was still Feyre's main love interest at the end of book 1. It was probably obvious to many, but Sarah was leaving hints at them being mates all throughout ACOTAR and ACOMAF.

The bond snapped for elucien during the cauldron scene where Lucien whispered it out of shock because it makes the scene even more intense. *GASP* OMG THEY'RE MATES!!! BUT LUCIEN ALWAYS THOUGHT JESMINDA WAS HIS MATE AND ELAIN IS ENGAGED!!! THE DRAMA!!!! It also sets up a different kind of love story where both parts from the beginning are aware of their mating bond. Lucien longing after Elain while she avoids him is Sarah stirring up the most angsty love story full of pining.

If they would serve rejected mates, then Sarah wouldn't bother making Helion Lucien's biological father. It would have been set up a lot better, where we see them talking to each other, but it's telling that they don't work well together as they have gotten to know each other and there is no chemistry between them. Where they are actually indifferent towards each other, but you can cleary tell that they are intensely aware of each others presence. Lucien longs for Elain, whilst she feel some type of way about him and trust me, it's not indifference. Sarah deliberately decides to not have them talk nor confront each other about the bond because she is saving that for their book. You gotta properly know your mate before deciding to reject them. The what if's would haunt them otherwise.

WHICH TO ME SOUNDS FUN AS HELL BTW. I'LL EAT THAT SHIT UP!!!!!! I'M SO EXCITED FOR THEIR STORY, IT'S DIFFICULT TO EVEN COMPREHEND THAT THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT THERE WHO AREN'T.🥺

So will Azriel get a mate? Knowing Sarah's preferences when it comes to romance, yes. Absolutely!

And I see no other romantic interest for him than miss Gwyneth Berdara herself. Az is a lucky guy!! :D

This is not confirmed, but in my (and many others) opinion, it was heavily hinted at in Az infamous bonus chapter that they are mates.

A headcanon that I've seen hopping around is that Gwyn is more aware of their bond than Az, which I like a lot. At least that she'll realize it before he does as he doesn't see himself worthy of a mate nor love in general, though he craves it more than anything. We haven't seen that before. FUN!!

He will walk around, unaware that what he desires the most is right in front of him. While simantaniously developing feelings for Gwyn as they spend more and more time together.

I'LL GOBBLE THAT SHIT UP, YE HEAR ME!!!

GODDAMMIT SARAH JANET GIVE US SOME NEWS😤!!! April is THE month guys, I can feel it🧘‍♀️

#elucien #gwynriel #pro elucien #pro gwynriel #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #gwyneth berdara #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar

[cilil]

What would the Valar’s reaction be to a modern woman from our world showing them D&D? Who’s going to be really into the game?

𝓐𝓝 ~ Oooh very interesting question! Thanks a lot for the ask, I had so much fun thinking about this ^^

𝓕𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 ~ All the Valar! I couldn't resist... Enjoy!

In general, I think that all the Valar would be at least curious, if not excited to hear about the games modern humans play and try it out for themselves, considering how the Ainur have always been looking forward to interacting with the Children of Ilúvatar.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Manwë

As a poet and writer, he's immediately in love with the concept of collaborative storytelling. You can expect elaborate worldbuilding and character backstories from him (especially ones that involve reconciling with an estranged sibling) and he loves to write small side stories and fanfic about the cast. Manwë also wouldn't mind being the group's forever DM once he learns how to run a game.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Varda

Being less excitable than her husband and not always in a playful mood, Varda may choose to watch at first, but she's certainly intrigued by the concept of D&D and she enjoys the mathematical aspects of it, always calculating everybody's chance of success. Once she decides to play, she may surprise the other players with how ruthless and cunning she can be - a menace both in political intrigue and combat-heavy campaigns. Varda also loves seeing Manwë and the others having fun.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Ulmo

Ulmo in particular is always very fond of the Children and the things they come up with. He too may be hesitant to join in at first, but he's always down to do some voice acting or provide some tasteful background music. If he joins the group, he'll probably need the occasional explanation and reminder how things work on land and that his character might not be able to swim as well as he can (keep an eye on him especially if he plays a class that uses armor).

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Aulë

If he isn't sold on the game immediately, he will be once you tell him that he can play a dwarf. Aside from storytelling, combat and roleplay, Aulë swiftly becomes fond of everyone's favorite shiny math rocks and is more than happy to make custom dice for everybody's characters, satisfying all their dice goblin needs. Important note for the DM: Aulë is an inventor and (in)famous for creating his dwarves in his workshop - do not let him play an artificer if you value your sanity.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Yavanna

Whether she's aware of tree hugger stereotype or not, she has absolutely no shame and will indulge her preferences by playing nature-based classes such druids or shamans and finds it cathartic to bring nature's wrath into battle in ways she can't in real life. Aside from indulging the occasional destructive or vengeful impulse, Yavanna may default to being the party mom, fiercely protective and supportive of everyone involved in and out of game.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Vána

Vána loves the concept of the game and is eager to play. Once she learns the basics, she gets really into character and is excited to play with ideas that are very much unlike the flower girl persona people expect from her, always remaking and reinventing tropes and archetypes that catch her fancy. Like Manwë, you can expect her to never miss a game and be very passionate about it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Oromë

Talking about and imagining slaying monsters instead of actually doing it isn't exactly to Oromë's liking, but he isn't opposed to indulging in a fun tale of adventure on cozy evenings at the campfire. After he's been sufficiently introduced to D&D culture, memes and inside jokes, he embarks on a personal side campaign to prove to everyone just how cool his personal brand of ranger can be.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Tulkas

Similar to his good friend Oromë, Tulkas isn't fond of activities that involve sitting still. His creativity and imagination isn't the best either, but at least he's always willing to play frontline and martial classes, which will come in handy especially in groups where most players have their sights on fancy casters and/or fun support builds. Tulkas is a fun guy to be around if you don't piss him off and so are his characters.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Nessa

Like her brother and husband, Nessa also enjoys being active. If she decides to give the game a try, she's very expressive, gestures a lot and may act out small scenes if given the chance. As fun as this is during roleplay, sitting close to her during combat segments while she shows you how exactly she's smacking her enemies is not recommended, especially if she plays a monk.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Námo

Námo isn't known for his playfulness, however this doesn't mean he's opposed to engaging with the game. In fact, he quite enjoys slipping into a different role and mindset for a while - having to be the impartial judge and observer all the time can be tiring after all. Another aspect of D&D he may enjoy is, surprisingly enough, the element of randomness: His foresight allows him to know the future, but not every little detail, and a couple of dice rolls in a roleplaying game are probably not important prophecies Eru gave him. It may feel refreshing for Námo to be surprised.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Vairë

No matter how casual any given session is, Vairë arrives in full cosplay, really getting into character creation like Manwë does as well, though as usual she's more practical about it. Additionally, she keeps a cute notebook as a campaign journal in which she records all the fun little details and great moments the players experienced together. She also enjoys creating fan content for the campaign.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Irmo

Irmo has quite a vivid imagination and has always adored roleplaying, so he's immediately on board. It's by far his favorite part of the D&D experience, though he quickly finds that he enjoys combat and puzzle solving sequences as well. He's the one to initiate and drive a lot, if not most of the character interactions, helps advancing their character arcs and is just a joy to have at the table. Class-wise, he's definitely a bard player and will happily perform his songs and flirtatious lines in real life too.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Estë

It may come as a shock and surprise to the other players that Estë categorically refuses to be the party healer, at least on her first playthrough. Like Vána, she's eager to explore other roles through her characters. No matter what she decides to play, her character may strike up an in-game rivalry with Irmo's character to spice things up and both of them have way too much fun bickering.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Nienna

She most likely takes a back seat at first, letting others play the game, observing to learn the rules and quietly enjoying the stories they tell. Encouraged by her family, Nienna joins in eventually, provided she's currently in the right headspace for it (being the Lady of Grief, she sometimes feels mentally and emotionally exhausted, in which case she prefers to just sit there, relax and unwind by being in the presence of her loved ones). As a player, she enjoys roleplaying the most, but also does well with puzzles since she's a keen observer and listener.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Melkor

Well. Melkor is most certainly going to be that guy at the table. He likes to derail campaigns, especially if they're Manwë's, tests the limits of the rules (and everyone's patience) and wants kills and loot. Once he familiarizes himself with the game's mechanics, he exploits them and likes to powergame. The one concept Melkor has trouble grasping is that D&D isn't a game you play to "win". Simply put, he very much has fun, but isn't fun to play with for a lot of other players; however, if you want to play a meme or evil campaign, he's your guy.

Side note: If Melkor plays with his own friend group he may also chill out for once.

Side note 2: Don't let him DM unless, again, you want the kind of campaign he'll come up with.

Side note 3: Watch your shiny math rocks. Melkor likes shiny.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

taglist: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-big-tits @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot @wandererindreams

#cílil answers #headcanons #ainur #valar #manwe #varda #ulmo #aule #yavanna #vana #orome #tulkas #nessa #namo #vaire #irmo #este #nienna #melkor #silmarillion #tolkien #d&d