#Happy Gnome Publishing

[shironezuninja]

This might be all the time that I have for Sunday night.

[1arkspur-aconitum]

SOULS OF POETS (s.r.)

SOULS OF POETS DEAD AND GONE, WHAT ELYSIUM HAVE YOU KNOWN?

[PART ONE OF THREE]

IN WHICH: Spencer discovers more about Juniper’s previous work history, and it is not to his taste.

PAIRING: Season3!Spencer Reid/Fem!BAU!OC

CATEGORY: angst

CONTENT: strip-clubs, common BAU violence, the team being little shits, established secret relationship, Spencer being mean, not a happy ending (in this part at least)

WORD COUNT: 8k… (I got a bit carried away)

PUBLISHED: 16/10/24

TO SAY THIS ISN’T HOW I was expecting today to go would be an understatement.

Sure, we end up on some of the most bizarre cases in the FBI, but the chances of this happening are slim to none—I am not Dr. Reid, so I am unable to give you an exact statistic, but I reckon it would be in the 1:1 bajillion ballpark.

Normally the cases are bizarre because of M.O., or because the people we deal with are strange; I still remember that one interview Emily and I had with that frankly absurd woman with way too many garden gnomes inside her house. Or the time Derek and I found a dude in his bath, stark naked, the tub filled with what I have told myself was milk, and have refused to ponder any other possibilities since.

All that to say, we get weird shit at the BAU.

Yet when I walked in this morning and saw the photos, and read the case file, I was more nervous for this than I had been for any bomb or kidnapping case.

To the others, it looks perfectly average. Localised crime scene, moderately high-risk victims, a clear comfort zone. New York City isn’t far from D.C and we have a good relationship with the police working on the case already. Seems simple enough.

But even as I sit on the plane, knees up to my chest, I still feel as if I can’t take a proper breath. As I try to force myself to take one, I catch Emily’s concerned glance from across the aisle. She knows me too well.

I clear my throat and force myself to adjust. Dropping my knees underneath the table, I spread the photos across the table in front of me. Women’s bodies–hands and feet removed–shoved into the bins out the back of a strip of clubs ranging from gay bars, to strip joints, to your average night-out with the girls club.

Shoved into bins. Nothing better than rubbish.

To my left, Spencer is busy pouring over a map of the NYC suburbs. He’s armed with his favourite set of coloured pens, slender fingers idly tapping the lid on his chin as he thinks it over. Spencer, as always, looks adorable. Messy hair, loose tie, those cheekbones–the little furrow he gets between his eyebrows when he’s thinking. With his lips parted in focus, I can’t help but let my knee press against his under the table.

He smiles privately, not once looking up from his map. It’s the only concession to tenderness he’ll give me at work. The only one he can whilst we’re keeping our relationship hidden from the team.

‘So, when we land, I want us to hit the ground running,’ Hotch announces, drawing all of our attention to him. He looks at us gravely in turn. ‘We have to handle this one with tact, especially considering the subject matter–JJ and Rossi, I want you guys to head to the police station and help us get set up.’

‘That should be fun.’ Rossi says without a trace of humour in his tone. ‘The local police always get antsy about us treating these cases like they’re important–’

‘They are important.’ The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, sounding a lot harsher than I originally intended. Rossi stops mid sentence. All eyes turn to me. Flushing, I pick at my fingernails as Spencer jostles my knee gently. ‘I’m sorry. It just pisses me off that people treat them like they aren’t.’

‘I know that, but the local police don't always.’ Rossi reminds me gently, flashing me the palms of his hands. A classic sign of apology. I incline my head and don’t say anything else. Emily is still watching me from across the aisle with those perceptive eyes of hers. ‘So JJ and I will do our best to get them on board.’

‘The rest of us are going to head to the main club that’s been targeted,’ Hotch has an air of disapproval in his tone, sending me a quick glare to remind me that I am the source of his anger. I sink lower into my seat, biting my lips shut. I shouldn’t have said anything at all. ‘See what we can find out about the place, the locals.’

‘Are you okay?’ Spencer murmurs to me under his breath a few moments later. The rest of the team have devolved back into their previous conversations, so the sweetness in his voice isn’t as easily detected. He is looking at me with those annoyingly perceptive, wide brown eyes. It’s like he’s peering deep into my skin and I don’t like it.

‘What? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?’ I close myself off, folding my arms and trying to work some of the tension out of my jaw. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s not Spencer’s fault, and even genius Spencer Reid doesn’t have all of the pieces to finally puzzle this together.

‘I don’t know…is it because we’re going to New York City?’

‘What’s made you think I don’t like New York?’

‘Well…I know you lived there for a while after you dropped out of Cornell–’

‘I took a break from Cornell, I went back eventually.’ I scowl at him, brushing some loose strands of hair away from my face. Spencer quirks his eyebrows but I can tell he’s laughing internally at me. ‘I completed that degree, thank you very much. I just…’

‘You just what?’ He bumps his warm shoulder gently against mine.

‘This case…’ I pick up a picture of one of the bins–the woman inside has her legs spread, blood crusted around where her feet used to be, the short skirt she was wearing shoved up around her hips. She seems so painfully familiar. ‘There’s something…there’s something personal about it.’

The next time I look at Spencer, his lips are slightly pursed, eyes narrowed. If I were to lean in, I’m ninety percent sure that I could hear the cogs in his brain working. The idea of Spencer finding out concerns me more than I want it to. Rechecking my microexpressions, I plaster on a mildly bored smile. He doesn’t believe it. I can tell immediately. Yet he still can’t put a pin on why I’m lying.

‘I feel bad,’ I say, doing my best to pace the words to a steady, ordinary beat. ‘These women are as deserving of respect as anyone else, and yet somehow they always end up being the ones covered in rubbish.’

Spencer nods slowly, apparently satisfied with this, but the narrowness to his usually wide eyes doesn’t fully lift. I can tell that I have not heard the last of this. Spencer Reid is nothing if not persistent–at least he won’t have to wait long to find out, because I know that as soon as we get off the plane, I’m on a deadline. An hourglass with only a teaspoon of sand left.

I lean back into the seat and wait to meet my terrible fate.

Elysium is everything you would expect from a strip-club.

Bleak and unassuming exterior, with one door manned by a beefy looking security guard, and several cameras aimed at the entrance. Inside it’s dark and seedy, the walls painted black to better enhance the vibrant colours of the strobe lights. They pulse in time to the music; a classic pop song I recognise, pumped through massive speakers at an almost deafening volume. The beat is so nostalgic I resist the urge to tap my foot.

We step into the main room and my heart stammers. It’s still laid out the same–a big raised platform at the back of the room with three poles, two currently in use. The women curve around the silver poles, the low lights slicking off of their curves. There’s a catwalk down the centre with a few loose notes blanketing it like leaves. The door to the right with the big neon ‘PRIVATE’ sign above it sits resolutely locked. The extensive bar has several scantily dressed women lean against it, talking to the patrons. It’s so familiar that I am suddenly twenty one again, walking into this place for the first time.

‘Can I help you?’ A voice says and I drag my attention from the bar.

The lady talking to Hotch hasn’t changed either. She’s still got that impossibly divine smooth skin, but she’s swapped the belly button piercing since I last saw her. It’s now a golden teardrop embellished in green that swings as she moves. Long dreads hang down to her waist and she’s dressed in the little gold number she always saved for big payouts. She must be planning on scoring high tonight. Despite myself, I let my face split into a broad smile.

‘Yes, actually could–’ Hotch starts, pointedly looking at her face rather than the rest of her body. Spencer is trying not to look at her breasts and failing–and I don’t think Derek even makes the attempt to be discreet. He’s like a kid in a sweet shop. The woman lifts her hand to silence him, brown eyes settling onto mine.

‘No fucking way.’ Tia takes two steps towards me, vibrant eyes scouring my figure. The last time she saw me, I would have been caught dead in a pair of suit trousers and a button down, yet here I am. I flare my arms away from my body, as if to say ‘yes way’. ‘June–Junebug!’

‘Hi, Tia.’ I laugh as she throws herself at me. Her strong arms wrap around my shoulders and she presses her body tightly against mine. The team is openly ogling at me as the stripper gives me the biggest, friendliest hug ever. I don’t look at them, though, face buried in her neck. She smells like cigarette smoke and vetiver perfume. ‘I’m afraid this isn’t a friendly visit.’

‘Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.’ Tia grins, gesturing at the gun holstered at my hip before she grabs me again. When she speaks next, she shakes me to punctuate each word. ‘Ugh, I’m so glad to see you! You don’t visit us enough, and you said you would.’

‘I know, T, I’m sorry.’ I extricate myself from her arms, wincing awkwardly at my team. I feel very exposed. There will be time for explanations later, though, and right now I’m busy basking in the warmth of an old friend. She’s right. I haven’t visited nearly as often as I said I would. Regret seeps through my pores. ‘We’re here to ask some questions about the murders that have been going on?’

‘Oh, of course.’ Tia immediately loses the air of excitement, brow furrowing. She inspects the team as a whole again, noting the way they’re looking between us with a curious air. When she looks back at me, she raises a quizzical brow. I shake my head–explanations later. Tia, ever the saint, doesn’t push the issue. ‘Come on, do you want to head to the back office? I’ll get some of the girls together but Harold is already in there, waiting to talk to you.’

‘Harold still works here?’ I blink, surprised.

‘Yeah, he does–his hip is bothering him more now, but he’s still kickin’,’ Tia loops her arm through mine and starts to lead me through the strip club. I can hear the sounds of my team whispering behind me as they fall into line, but I pointedly ignore them. Nosy buggers. ‘You would know that if you came to visit.’

‘I already feel guilty about it,’ I knock her with my elbow. ‘No need to make me feel worse.’

‘I’m just glad you’re here now.’ Tia presses a sticky, lip gloss kiss to my cheek as we stop by another inconsequential door. It’s been painted black to match the walls, designed to be unobserved by the patrons. The amount of secret spaces in this place is unprecedented, rat runs sprawling through the bowls of Elysium. It took me months to learn where all the nooks and crannies were. I scowl petulantly. ‘You remember where you’re going?’

‘Of course, I mean, how could I forget?’ I flash her my cheekiest of grins.

I cross my arms as I wait for the team to catch up with us, leaning back against the wall.

Derek is currently casually flirting with one of the barmaids–someone I do not recognise–which doesn’t surprise me. Hotch is scouring the layout of the place, pointedly avoiding looking at the half-naked women gyrating around poles, or meandering around laps.

Emily has that shit-eating grin on her face, striding towards me and Tia, and Spencer is staring down at his hands as he follows in Emily’s wake.

Thinking about it, I wonder if Spencer has ever even stepped foot in a strip club before. It doesn’t seem like his kind of vibe, but you never know. Spencer is always full of surprises.

‘I’m gonna get Jas, she’ll die when she sees you.’ Tia grins as Emily arrives, bouncing off into the crowd. Tia has always been my favourite; she was the one who took me under her wing when I first arrived at Elysium, who gave me a place to stay when I didn’t have anywhere. The fact that she’s still here hurts my heart like a bruise. We always said we’d get out together.

‘You, ma’am, have a lot of explaining to do.’ Emily grins at me when she gets within earshot, grabbing my elbow. She loves this.

‘There isn’t much to explain,’ I try, but then Derek appears on my other side and I know I am done for. ‘Seriously.’

‘What, so you’re just casually friends with strippers?’

‘What’s wrong with being friends with strippers?’ I retort, turning pleading eyes to Spencer.

Spencer Reid looks as uncomfortable as possible–his shoulders are tense, hand to his lips, that slight frown between his eyebrows. He’s physically trying to make himself smaller by curving his shoulders inwards. Whenever someone nearly naked walks past him, he deliberately makes a lot of space. If his eyeline drifts for more than a few seconds, he’s instantly staring down at his feet again, cheeks blazing red hot. When he meets my gaze, though, he cannot hide the subtle hint of interest. It becomes clear that Spencer is not the person I should look to for help.

Balls.

‘Hey, you know I’m not complaining–’

‘Shut up, Derek, you’re just salty because she kissed me.’ I shove him in the chest, realising I’m not going to get any help from anyone involved. I’m on my own. Turning away from them, I rap on the door. ‘I can feel your stupid grin, Morgan–and yours too, Prentiss.’

‘Ooo, the last names, someone means business.’ Emily teases, but a voice from inside the room invites us in, and I take this as my saving grace.

I open the door to the small back office, holding it wide with my foot so the rest of my team can trickle in. The office is relatively small, lined with filing cabinets, and manned by a desk covered in papers and an overflowing ashtray. Someone has replaced the wooden chairs with two comfier looking arm chairs, though they still look slightly weathered in the dim light. The ceiling fan above is still laden with cobwebs and dust, perpetually unused. Yet another thing that hasn’t changed.

Once the door is shut behind us, I turn my attention to the man sitting behind the desk.

‘June?’ Harold spots me first, his Texan voice thickened by tar and smoke. He has more wrinkles around his eyes now, but the smile is as blinding as the last time I saw it. Harold’s beard is streaked with white, and when he pushes himself to his feet, the silver cane is new, too. ‘Junebug? Is that really you?’

‘Alive and in the flesh.’ I smile, reaching out to hug him as he hobbles towards me. Harold was the one who gave me that moniker barely two days after I started working here. There’s something about the way he says it that doesn’t make me feel like he’s being condescending–in fact, it just reminds me that someone loves me enough to say a nickname with such adoration. I wrap my arms around him and hold on tightly. I try not to focus on how he feels thinner underneath me.

‘So,’ Harold says, stepping away from me but not letting go of my waist–I don’t know if it’s for support or just for show. I don’t really mind either way. He inspects the rest of my team, who are standing awkwardly around. None of them can hide the thinly veiled amusement from their faces, nor the bright curiosity. ‘These your friends?’

‘Yup.’ I nod, not meeting any of their eyes. There’s too much going on right now. Shame is a powerful emotion and even though I know I shouldn’t feel it, I can’t exactly control my own brain. ‘Uh, SSA Hotchner, Prentiss, and Morgan–and that’s Dr. Reid looking uncomfortable in the corner. We’re with the FBI.’

‘The FBI huh?’ Harold affixes me with that appraising stare before pushing away from me. I follow him, keeping my arm out for support. He plops himself down in his chair and leans back. Waggles his cane at me. ‘I never thought one of my best dancers would make it up into the big leagues like that. Good on you, Junebug.’

And there it is.

It takes Spencer about three seconds to process that information. About two times faster than it does for anyone else in the room. I can see the realisation burning red hot behind his brown eyes when he jerks them to me. I can’t hide my expression quickly enough–my blink is all he needs to confirm what Harold said. Spencer’s eyes cloud for a second, lips parted.

When he cocks his head curiously, I can tell exactly what he’s thinking. What he’s imagining in that brain of his. What a little shit. When his eyes focus again, he sees my look of disapproval and flushes. Then, his expression changes–closes off. Becomes unreadable. It’s an annoying talent he has and one of the most frustrating things about him.

‘Thanks, H.’ I clear my throat, ignoring the mercilessly gleeful grin on Emily’s face. ‘Guys, this is Harold, he’s the manager here–if something happened, Harold is the one who’s most likely to know about it.’

‘You were a stripper?’ Derek blurts out. Of course he would be the one to ask first. It just encourages Emily, though. Soon enough, both of them are peppering me with questions like they’re rubber bullets.

‘How long did you work here?’

‘Yeah–were you good?’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

‘Do you still dance?’

‘Was she good?’ Derek directs this last question to Harold, evidently not satisfied with my silence.

‘Jesus Christ, guys, it’s not exactly relevant, is it?’ I snap, feeling a familiar burn of anger and shame. Spencer has remained, thankfully, silent, but is watching me with that blank expression. It’s unsettling. ‘Can we focus? I’ll answer your questions later, we’re here about several murders, let’s not get distracted by the fact that I used to be a stripper.’

‘You ain’t told ‘em till just now?’ Harold says from his seat, voice tinged with amusement and something that strikes me too much as sorrow. When I look at him, he’s surprisingly sad. It hurts me right in the centre of my chest. ‘I can understand that. There ain’t any shame in it, though, Junebug. You loved it here. Sure, you were at rock-bottom, but e’ryone who comes here is. It’s an absolute joy to see you doin’ somethin’ fulfillin’.’

‘Stop it, Harold,’ I say, the words choked somewhere in the back of my throat. A tingling sensation behind my nose threatens to make me sob. His words carve away at something within me, a part of me I haven’t thought about since…well, since I left Elysium. Avoiding looking at the others, I step around to the withered old man. Rest my hand on his shoulder. The next words are a breath of sadness. ‘Thank you.’

He understands that that’s not just for his words today. It’s for everything.

Harold gives me that sad smile again and rests his own hand on top of mine. It’s a connection I haven’t had in a while–Harold always reminded me of my father. Seeing him again is like seeing the ghost of my dad. I can’t afford to break down in front of the others, not when we’re here for a job, so blink furiously at the silver lining around my eyes. I plaster a smile on.

‘Bishop,’ Hotch says, voice low and measured. His words are not unkind and he is the only one out of the entire team that does not look disturbed, surprised, or horrified. Realistically, Hotch probably already knew this about me. I imagine it’s on my file somewhere. ‘If you need to go to the police station, you can. We can handle the questions here.’

‘It’s alright,’ I say, taking a deep breath and schooling my features. I do my best to forget where I am, who I am with–I try to become Dr. Bishop, the FBI agent working on a case that she has no personal connection to. ‘I can do it. Besides, I think Tia might kill me if I leave before she can accost me again.’

‘Alright, then.’ Hotch nods briskly, and the questioning begins.

Hotch leads it, as usual, Derek and Emily still staring at me with those aghast expressions. I don’t care about them, though. Whilst Hotch and Harold discuss the recent murders (three of the girls had been new dancers at Elysium, some of them regulars) and if Harold saw anything suspicious (a few odd cars, but most people who come here are unusual or strange), I keep my eyes trained on Spencer. I want to see what his reaction is, to gauge if I should start thinking about damage control.

He’s busy scouring the room, taking at each of the pictures on the wall. They're all of the dancers Harold has employed. I’m up there somewhere. I wonder if that’s what Spencer is looking for. He stands with one arm across his lower stomach, the other brought up to his chest. Long fingers rub the sharpness of his jaw idly. His eyes work furiously across the walls, committing everything to memory.

Spencer has always been good at disguising his microexpressions, so I doubt that I can ever truly work out what he is thinking from just observing him. The blankness hasn’t gone from him.

I hope he’s relaxed, though, and not severely freaked out. I have no idea what I would do if he was severely freaked out.

‘Hey, Junebug!’ Tia’s melodic voice cuts through my panic crisis-prepping brain fog as she steps into the room, making Spencer jump. I turn to look and see that my gorgeous friend is dragging yet another gorgeous friend into the office. The other girl is tall, willowy, with ice-blonde hair that she’s been carefully maintaining since I knew her. She is wearing a pair of thigh-high blue boots and the tiniest lingerie set I have ever seen. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, this one was a nightmare to find.’

‘It’s true!’ Jas squeaks, her eyes widening as she lays them on me. I barely have enough time to process her being there before she launches herself at me. Despite the fact that she is all bone, Jas is surprisingly strong, and squeezes her arms around my neck. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been so long, what the fuck, June, where have you been?!’

‘Whoa, there, Jas,’ Tia chuckles, gripping Jas by the shoulders and extricating her from me. Grateful, I rub the spot where Jas’s acrylic nails dug into my skin. ‘Give her some breathing space. She’s with the FBI, silly, didn’t you hear me say that?’

‘You’re such a bitch.’ Jas scowls at me as she shakes Tia off, and hits me hard in the upper arm. I yelp in pain, staring at her with an affronted look. She pats the spot where she hit me apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, I just missed you.’

‘No need to get violent.’ I remind her, turning her around to face the rest of my team. ‘We’re here to ask you some questions about the recent murders?’

‘FBI?’ Jas scans my team, her eyes widening as they sweep over each member. Her gaze lingers on Spencer, and I can see the familiar glint of interest sparking in her eyes. She lets out a long, low, appreciative whistle that seems to echo around the small office. I can tell immediately what’s going through her mind, and I brace myself for what is about to happen. Jas angles her head like a cat watching a bird. Her posture shifts. ‘Well, hello there. Aren’t you the most handsome man I’ve ever seen?’

Spencer’s reaction is immediate and intense. His face flushes a deep crimson, the blush spreading down underneath his collar when he realises that she is talking to him. His eyes, wide with surprise and discomfort, immediately lock desperately on me. The way he shifts his weight from foot to foot, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, is so endearingly awkward that I can’t help but find it utterly adorable.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as I watch Jas saunter seductively towards him, hips swaying with each step.

‘Jasmine,’ I interject, my voice is thick with warning, hoping that that hides the jealousy I’m feeling as she begins to circle Spencer like a shark. She trails a hand across the back of his shoulders and I have to resist the urge to physically remove it. Only I am allowed to touch Spencer like that. ‘Behave, please. That’s my colleague.’

What I really want to say is ‘that’s my boyfriend you’re pawing at’, but I can’t. Not when the team is standing right there, watching with varying degrees of amusement. The secret aspect of our relationship hasn’t bothered me as much as it does right now. I don’t know what to do.

‘Oh, come on, Junebug, you’ve never been a prude.’ Jas flashes me a familiar, mischievous grin as she casually straightens Spencer’s collar from behind, her nails scraping across his shirt. I know that expression–I’ve seen it on her several times before she scores a big payout, and Jas always scores big. Bitter jealousy twists in the base of my stomach. ‘If I remember correctly, you would have been all over this one a few years ago. Let me have my fun. What’s your name, handsome?’

‘I–I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.’ He stammers, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he finds the ceiling very interesting. I can practically feel the heat radiating from him. Part of me wants to intervene, to yank her away from him and put an end to this little performance. But another part, a part I am decidedly not proud of, wants to see what Spencer will do. It’s a test of sorts, though I am not sure what I am testing or why.

‘Dr. Spencer Reid.’ Jas purrs, drawing out each syllable as if it’s fine wine. She completes her predatory circle to stand in front of Spencer, giving me an excellent view of her pert behind. It’s not exactly hidden in the thong she’s donned. She twists a stray strand of his hair around her finger. Spencer flinches away from her touch, and I can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. I want to tell her to back off but Derek’s amused expression stops me. ‘A doctor–you’ve always loved a man with brains, Junebug. So, Spencer, what brings you to Elysium? Looking for some extracurricular studies?’

‘We–we’re here about the, the recent murders…’ Spencer chokes out, his voice strained and higher than usual. He’s still staring resolutely at the ceiling, as if trying to solve some complicated mathematical equation etched into the plaster.

‘Yes, we are.’ Hotch cuts in, his voice taking on a sharp and authoritative tone. He places a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder, effectively creating a barrier between him and Jasmine. I feel a rush of gratitude towards my Unit Chief for doing what I could not. ‘We’re hoping you could help us by answering some questions, not by accosting a Federal Agent.’

‘I suppose.’ Jas pouts dramatically, but there is a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. She knows she’s pushed the boundaries a little bit too far. Her shoulders slump in defeat, but she turns back to Spencer. ‘I guess I can behave. But only if the good doctor here promises to buy me a drink. What do you say, gorgeous? Care to hear some stories about our Junebug’s wilder days?’

‘I will buy you that drink, Jasmine.’ I interject quickly, my words coming out harsher than intended. My hand shoots out, curling around her upper arm as I tug her a few steps away from Spencer. I fix her with a stern look, eyebrow raised in silent warning. ‘Leave Spencer alone.’

‘Fine, June, you absolute spoil sport.’ She hisses at me, but there’s no real venom in her tone. If anything, there’s a hint of amusement, as if she’s enjoying this power play. It wouldn’t surprise me. ‘Why don’t all of us go out for a drink, then, if I can’t have Spencer by himself?’

‘Can we focus, please?’ I sigh, not liking the way both Emily and Derek have perked up upon hearing the possibility of getting the juicy information about my ‘wilder days’ as Jasmine so kindly phrased it. ‘We are here on official business–we can gossip later, alright?’

‘Alright, alright, message received.’ Jas rolls her eyes but finally relents. She sits down on Harold’s desk, looking expectantly up at us. ‘Ask away.’

‘Don’t think you can escape, Juniper Bishop.’

Balls.

I turn around sheepishly, one hand on the door to my hotel room. I was so close. If I hadn’t stopped to stock up on snacks, I might have escaped, might have managed to prolong the inevitable until I felt ready to face it. That’s the unfortunate thing about the inevitable, though. It always comes around eventually.

There, standing at the end of the corridor, are Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and JJ. I only need to take one look at the blonde to realise that they have already dobbed me in, and have caught her up to speed about what happened at Elysium. They stand there like hunters spotting prey and knowing it has nowhere else to run.

‘Seriously, guys? Now?’ I sigh, leaning against the doorframe and readjusting the snacks in my arms–the vending machine was limited, but it had Oreos, and that’s good enough for me. Hair falls into my face as I hang my head. ‘I was just gonna watch a film and go to sleep…’

‘Not happening.’ Emily announces, striding over to me and grabbing my upper arm. ‘We’re going to the bar.’

‘The bar?’ I say, dragging my feet but letting her lead me over to the others. I don’t like the way they are looking at me. I feel like a student being dragged to the headmaster’s office for a scolding. ‘We haven’t solved the case yet, surely it’s a bad idea to drink on the job?’

‘Then order a soda.’ JJ grips my other arm and they frog march me towards the top of the stairs.

‘Guys.’ I whine, trying to dig my heels into the plush carpet, and failing spectacularly. It’s no use. I am dragged rather roughly down the stairs and towards the hotel bar, my protests falling on deaf ears. ‘Come on, this is ridiculous–’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Spencer, save me!’ I call, looking over my shoulder to spot my handsome boyfriend by the lift, his head angled curiously as he witnesses what is essentially my death march. JJ and Emily take no prisoners, though, and continue to haul me towards the bar.

‘We’re just gonna ask her some questions, that’s all.’ Derek says, talking to Spencer as if he’s just found out that I am a suspect in a gruesome murder. Spencer blinks, confused, and starts to trail after us. ‘Care to join?’

When we reach the bar, I am deposited unceremoniously into a booth, being wedged in by Emily and opposed by JJ. Derek and Spencer don’t take long to join us, the former drifting off towards the bar with a firm warning not to start without him. The latter sits down beside JJ. I glare at them, arms folded across my chest, Oreos abandoned on the table.

‘You brought this upon yourself, you know.’ Emily says, all high and mighty. She rests her elbows on the bar and cocks her head at me. ‘I mean, I knew there was something…different about you, but this? This is not what I was expecting.’

‘Oh my God.’ I groan, staring down at the table rather than at their three pairs of inquisitorial eyes. Spencer’s gaze is the hardest one to avoid and the worst one to meet. He’s guarded his expression so I can’t fully read it, but judging from the way he has his arms crossed, he isn’t going to come to my rescue. Evidently he’s just as curious as the rest of them. ‘Was all this really necessary?’

‘You were the one trying to hole up in your room.’ JJ says with a casual shrug, glancing over to where Derek is paying for a selection of drinks. ‘Forgive us for trying to get to the bottom of this.’

‘There isn’t anything to get to the bottom of!’ I say, voice rising in volume and in pitch. ‘I think you guys are making this out to be worse than it actually is.’

‘Aw, come on, hotstuff, we’re just curious.’ Derek says, putting down a circular black tray in the middle of the table. He divvies off the drinks, placing what suspiciously looks like a G&T in front of me. Despite my earlier reluctance to imbibe, I’m kind of grateful. I might need alcohol to get through this. Once he’s done, he pulls up a stool and heads the table. ‘Can you blame us?’

‘Yes.’ I retort, slumping back in my seat and scowling. ‘Fine. Fine. Ask away.’

‘How come you never told us you used to be a stripper?!’ Emily cuts right to the chase, leaning forward even further. If her eyes could get any wider, they would. She resembles one of those weird marsupials with the long fingers that tap on trees to eat the bugs.

‘It…it never came up.’ I shrug, running my finger along the edge of my glass and glancing at Spencer. He’s still utterly unreadable, stirring the ice around his drink with a straw. He’s watching me carefully, probably looking for any microexpressions or tells–fucker knows me too well at this point. Unlike him, I’ve never been good at hiding things. ‘It’s not exactly something you just casually tell people, especially when you now work for the FBI. It’s…frowned upon.’

‘I suppose I can understand that.’ JJ concedes, taking a sip of her drink. ‘When were you working there?’

‘Oh, maybe, like, five, six years ago?’ I copy her movement, letting the gin blaze down my throat. It’s relaxing.

‘So…was this before or after your PhD?’

‘After. I was in the middle of completing another undergrad at Cornell when…well, when I started to dance.’

‘Another undergrad?’ Derek says, apparently more surprised at my academic achievements than the fact that I used to get naked and dance around for money.

‘Yes, Derek, another one.’ I laugh, sipping my drink again and let myself watch Spencer watching me. ‘I was bored after finishing my PhD and felt like doing another degree–it was psychology, which now that I think about it, is kind of ironic.’

‘So…were you dancing to pay off your debt?’ Emily asks, her curiosity piqued. Her bright brown eyes sparkle with intrigue. I’m apparently the most fascinating thing she has seen in quite some time. ‘I mean, degrees are expensive, were you having money problems?’

‘No, it wasn’t the money.’ I confirm, eyes flickering down to trace the pattern of the wood. I have to be careful here, and I have to choose my words with the utmost precision. God, sometimes talking to these guys feels a lot like sitting an exam. ‘It was…well, there were a lot of things going on, and I felt very out of control. I don’t know, I think dancing gave me the control…and the escape…that I needed.’

‘There are other ways to get control.’ Spencer finally speaks, and I almost flinch at the rawness of his words. When I look at him, he’s staring down into his drink. His tone is laced with disapproval. ‘Why…why would you do something like that?’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I have no shame in it.’ I say, somewhat harsher than intended. ‘I loved dancing. It was empowering and freeing, and brought me a lot of joy. But I started it for the wrong reasons, and unfortunately it facilitated habits I really should have been trying to break rather than…well, rather than indulging.’

‘And, according to Harold, you were good. In fact, I think he said you were one of the best.’ Derek grins cheekily at me, eyes roving over my body. I can see Spencer tense out of the corner of my eye at Derek’s words, his shoulders closing inwards. This is dangerous territory.

‘Stop picturing it, Morgan–never gonna happen.’ I flick an ice cube at him, but laugh to show him I am actually teasing.

‘Wait, really?’ Emily sounds genuinely upset, gaping at me. The concept that Emily Prentiss was actually considering asking me to dance for her blows my mind.

‘Oh, come off it, I’m not gonna strip for my coworkers!’

‘Even if I paid you?’ Derek flirts, leaning towards me and flashing me his characteristic wink.

‘Oh, Derek, sweetheart,’ I let the words roll around my tongue, let them drip seductively from my lips. I focus all of my attention onto him as if he were another patron eager for something from Elysium. My eyes trail slowly across his handsome face, lingering on the firm jaw, sticking to his slightly parted mouth. Derek swallows–hard. He leans in just a little bit more. ‘You wouldn’t be able to afford me.’

‘Damn…’ Derek blinks as if clearing his eyes off water. The others (minus Spencer) are laughing at us, and I join in. Derek, to his credit, moves past it with dignity. ‘Worth a shot, eh.’

‘You’re a pig, Morgan,’ JJ steps to my rescue, sneering at our coworker. ‘What would Garcia say if she could hear that?’

‘Hell, she’d probably ask me to split the cost with her.’ Derek winks at me again, but I don’t indulge him this time. I’m watching Spencer, and my heart is sinking.

He hasn’t touched his drink. It just sits in front of him, condensation forming a ring around the bottom. Spencer is staring down into it as if it’s the most interesting thing he has ever seen, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. I know that if I looked under the table, his hands are most likely either fiddling with the seam of his slacks, or balled in his lap.

He looks…angry. Hurt. Betrayed, almost. I don’t really blame him. It’s a lot to hear, and I should have told him when he asked me about it on the plane. Spencer doesn’t ask for much, but what he does ask for is transparency. Truth.

I don’t know why I didn’t tell him. I want to reach out and touch him, apologise for not mentioning it to him, and apologise for the fact that when I am telling him, it’s surrounded by our coworkers. I can’t reassure him in the way that I want.

What I want to do is hold him and kiss him and tell him that none of the past matters now that my future is his. I have never regretted keeping our relationship underwraps–it works for us, especially considering it’s so new, but…but right now, it sucks.

As I continue to watch him adamantly not looking at me, I wonder if I actually do know the reason why I didn’t tell him. Maybe I didn’t tell him because some small part of me didn’t want him looking at me like that. Like I am dirty, or impure, or whatever disgusting words people use for strippers.

‘So, let me get this straight.’ JJ is saying, seeing off the remainders of her drink. ‘You started dancing because you were in a rough patch. That’s fine. What made you stop?’

‘Hah, my mother.’ My laughter is dry, and I take another sip of my drink. ‘She’s very good at being disappointed. She basically sorted me out, sent me off to complete my undergrad. I haven’t danced since.’

‘Do you miss it?’

‘Sometimes, Em, sometimes.’ I smile at her, trying to squish down any thoughts of Spencer’s upset gaze. ‘I mean, not the sleazy pricks, or the teenagers who don’t know how to listen to boundaries, but I miss my friends–Tia, Jas, Harold–and I miss the freeness of it. If you guys haven’t had some kind of pole class or something, I seriously recommend it.’

‘You could teach us.’ JJ suggests.

I laugh dryly, swilling my drink. ‘You and Emily, sure, but Spencer and Derek on a pole? Could be questionable…’

‘Hey, I’ll have you know I would be a very good stripper!’

‘Whatever you say, Derek.’ I roll my eyes at him but I can’t stop the laughter. I finish off my drink and am very glad that I decided to accept it. Alcohol warms me from the inside. Makes this whole conversation so much easier. ‘So…are you guys satisfied? Can I go to bed–can I eat my Oreos?’

‘No way, Hops, we’re only just getting started.’ Emily grins naughtily at me and gestures for Derek to get another round. Before he can, though, Spencer is already standing and walking away from the table towards the bar without a word. Ouch. It’s clear he’s not very impressed. He hasn’t even finished his drink. ‘We still have so many questions.’

‘Like, did you have a stage name?’

‘What kind of dances did you do? Pole, group, private?’

‘Did you have a signature move?’

‘Do you still have a stripper playlist? If so, can I have it?’

‘Did you ever fall off the pole?’

‘What was the most money you made in one night?’

‘Did you have any regulars? Like, people who came in just to see you?’

‘Did any of them ever try to take you home?’

‘Did you let them?’

‘Oh my God, guys!’ I have to slam my hands on the table to get them to shut up, the words coming in a breathless laugh. I think Derek might have gotten me a double because the alcohol has loosened my tongue and I’m genuinely considering answering them. ‘One question at a time, please.’

It is then that Spencer returns, passing around the drinks quickly. He can’t even look me in the eye as he sits down and goes back to staring into his drink. My mind whirrs with ways to rectify this problem, but it’s not as if I can go back and change the past. Spencer has to come to terms with this on his own merit, and all I can do is wait.

‘Tell us everything.’ Emily gushes, taking a healthy swig of her fresh drink.

‘Everything? Do you think you can handle everything, Spencer?’ I don’t know why I call him out like that. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I chase the icky feeling away with a swig of another double G&T.

Spencer finally looks up, his eyes meeting mine for the first time in what feels like hours. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze–hurt, maybe? Anger? Perhaps even a hint of arousal. I can’t fully tell, and that scares me. Spencer opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Derek interrupts.

‘Hey, Reid, don’t tell me you’re not curious.’ Derek nudges him playfully, but Spencer doesn’t react. He just continues to stare at me, expression unreadable. I have no idea what that look is trying to say. ‘Come on, man, we all wanna hear about Junebug’s wild past.’

‘Don’t call me that.’ I snap, shaking my head at Derek. I don’t know why, but hearing that old nickname on his tongue upsets me. Derek shows me the palms of his hands in apology and I’m pleased to see that my little outburst has shifted his focus away from Spencer.

‘Come on,’ JJ sighs, cutting Derek and Spencer a curious glare. ‘Tell us everything.’

I hesitate for a moment, taking another drink. How much to reveal? I realise that I am going to have to toe a careful line between what is suitable to tell them, and what I want to take to the grave. They are my friends first, though. Colleagues second. There’s not much point in hiding anymore, not if they still want to go out for drinks with Jas and Tia when we’ve finished the case. There’s no going back.

‘Alright.’ I take a deep breath and start to pull at my fingernails. ‘But don’t judge me, okay?’

‘We promise.’ Emily says, voice so sincere that it almost hurts. She raises her glass in a mock toast, and the others follow suit–even Spencer raises his glass, though his movements are more stilted, eyes clouded with that mixture of emotions I’m driving myself insane trying to decipher.

‘I did dance under a stage name–it was Cassandra, or Cass. I chose it because–’

‘Because of the priestess?’ Spencer’s words are a mere mumble, but I am so attuned into him that I hear him. He’s looking somewhere in the region of my collar, but at least he’s looking at me.

‘Yeah. Precisely. She was this Trojan priestess that was cursed to see the future, but for no one to believe her, but I chose it because of what the name means, etymologically.’

‘Bless you.’ Emily teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Go on, what does it mean?’

‘The Greek spelling is with a K, so ‘kassos’ means to excel, and ‘andros’ means over men. So her name literally means ‘to excel over men’. I was quite proud of that one.’

‘Damn…and did you? Excel over men?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ I grin, taking a sip. ‘I did a variety of different types of dances–you kind of have to do all of them, really. No favourite moves, a couple of regulars that came in just to watch me, and yes, Emily, I do still have my playlist. To answer your question, Derek, a couple of them tried to take me home, and only one succeeded.’

‘What?’ Spencer’s word is perfectly formed, a bullet that pierces through the alcoholic armour I’d been establishing. I blink in surprise. He is staring at me with his mouth slightly parted, such a betrayed look on his face that I’m cut deep to the core. Spencer had seemed content to stay out of the conversation, but this is perhaps the first sign I get about how he’s actually feeling. ‘You slept with the people you danced for?’

‘Only one, and that was a long time ago–’ I say, wondering how only Spencer can get me feeling so defensive and so eager to alleviate his concerns.

‘It doesn’t matter when it was.’ Spencer’s voice is sharp, but he remains motionless, evidently not wanting to give away too much. The rest of the team are leaning back in their seats to get away from the tense energy now crackling between us. Emily is looking between us with a curious expression. ‘You slept with someone you barely knew, someone who saw you as nothing more than a–’

‘Than a what, Spencer? Go on, say ‘whore’, I know you want to.’ I snap back, slamming my glass down onto the table more violently than intended. Spencer flashes hurt eyes at me. ‘Jesus, Spencer, it’s my life–my old life–and I did what I wanted with it. I don’t need to explain it to you.’

‘No, no, don’t worry,’ Spencer scoffs, voice laced with bitterness. ‘I’ve worked it out. You used to sell your body for money, let men ogle you and touch you and degrade you, and you slept with one of them just because you thought, what, you thought it was fun? That doesn’t make you a stripper, June, that makes you a hooker.’

‘What the fuck, Reid?’ My words are soft, but the meaning is harsh. I’m hurt. I’ve heard those words a thousand times, from a thousand different people, but hearing it from Spencer–my Spencer–sucks the life right out of me. It’s as if it’s the first time I’m hearing it. All I want to do is run away and hide, but I can’t. ‘Don’t talk to me like that. You have no idea what it was like.’

‘Oh, but I do. I’ve seen the crime scenes.’ Spencer’s voice is cold. Clinical. Detached. It breaks my heart a little. ‘I’ve seen what those men do to women like you, I know how they treat you, how they view you. And you willingly put yourself in that position–it’s…it’s disgusting and, and–’

‘Stop it!’ I snap, slamming my hands onto the table. His words hit me like a physical blow, knocking all of the air out of my lungs. My eyes line with silver. I can’t believe he’s saying this to me, I can’t comprehend that he thinks that about me. I rise out of my seat, towering over the table. ‘Stop fucking talking, Reid. How dare you?’

‘Whoa, hey, easy now…’ Emily puts out a warning arm between us and I am suddenly reminded that the rest of the team are there. They have shifty looks on their faces. ‘Let’s all just calm down.’

‘No, actually–actually, I’m done.’ I sigh, seeing off my drink and gesturing for Emily to get out of the booth. ‘I’m leaving. Fuck this.’

I grab my snacks and my phone before pushing out past the rest of them and making a beeline for the door. I can hear their voices call out after me, but I don’t care. Even when I see Spencer rise too, as if making to follow me, I don’t change my trajectory. Thankfully Derek yanks Spencer back down into his seat. At least that’s one less thing to worry about. I stalk out of the bar as quickly as possible.

It’s only when I’m in the lift that I let the hot, salty tears start to fall.

THANK YOU FOR READING! PART TWO CAN BE FOUND HERE.

[midnightcreator12]

All this gravity falls content got me thinking on an old AU I made in like 2016 (Dragon Mom, its just Gravity Falls but a dragon adopted Stan shortly after the Portal Incident)

But now that im older and.....slightly more unhinged with AU stuff I'm rotating the idea of Dragons in Gravity Falls and kinda revamping the AU in my brain but I don't have time to write it atm but I wanna talk about it so have this very rough plot idea that I piece together (knowledge of the AU in 2016 is not needed....its very different now)

Ok, its a lil....outta left field but most of my AU shit is at this point

But anyway, things starts as a standard 'Stan took the journal AU' except Stan just vanishes and Ford doesn't really think anything of it because he TOLD Stan to keep the journal far away from everyone so he just focuses on protecting himself and the portal from Bill.

Cut to 30 years later and Ford has managed to put up the unicorn dome but he never leaves the house. He's published enough of his work to be recognized in the scientific community and is well off enough to not HAVE to leave the house but now he's also kinda a cranky old man because he doesnt have enough enrichment but hes terrified of Bill getting into his head so he stays inside and near the house, hardly ever contacts his family, missed a lot of stuff including his parents funerals and the birth of his nephew and his grand niblings.

But than, at the beginning of summer one year, his nephew called him up to let him know that he sent the kids his way because he and his wife dont want them around while they work out their divorce and they can't send the kids anywhere else....yaaay

Ford is not happy but it's kinda too late to send the kids back and he maybe feels a little bad for the two and has enough empathy to not want two 12-year-olds watch their parents fight over assets and custody and yadda yadda

So, Dipper and Mabel come and Ford is NOT a good caretaker. Oh, he makes sure they have a place to sleep and food and even talks to them sometimes but he holes up in his labs and studies a lot (where neither kid is allowed to enter) and he doesnt discourage them from going into the woods and DEFINITELY doesnt supervise them in the woods.

The kids are basically running wild until they bump into their first supernatural encounter and then they are even wilder because they run to tell Ford about the Gnomes and he is more than happy to tell the kids about aaaallll the crazy stuff in Gravity Falls and it's something the kids can FINALLY bond with him over so they go hunting for MORE anomolies.

And its fine at first until the kids find something thats actually dangerous. Theres a moment they're worried they got in over their heads but then the monster chasing them just vanishes?? And when they get back to the cabin, Mabel notices this little, rusty red lizard thing has followed them home and, of course, shes got to adopt it! 'He chose us Dipper! He followed us all the way home!"

Neither kid thinks to inform Ford of the new pet

Time passes, Mabels lizard seems to be doing a perry the platypus impression by vanishing when things get dicey and, weirdly, the danger vanishes too before the lizard reappears and this repeats until the FEDS show up trying to take grunkle Ford and DIpper starts a zombie uprising by accident and the kids and Ford are cornered and Ford is SUPER rusty when it comes to fighting supernatural stuff And then BOOM! Mabels little lizard scrabbles out of her arms and transforms into a dragon! Not a very big one but big enough to start mowing down zombies and give Ford and the kids enough time to get to the roof and use singing to defeat the zombies And now Ford is VERY interested in how and when Mabel found a dragon but the dragon seems very cold with Ford.

Oh, he LOVES the kids and is very tolerant of Dipper running round and round him and taking notes. Ford? The big guy avoids Ford like the plague when hes in dragon form and hisses at him constantly in the little lizard form. And Mabel makes more than one comment on how the dragon kinda looks like Grunkle Ford

Blah, blah, blah, plot stuff I havent thought about leads to the big twist of: Turns out, the Dragon is Stanley. Because before Ford sent that letter, this red cat had been following Stan around and when he came back with the journal and no will left to live she revealed herself to be a dragon and extended an offer for Stan to join her clan. One he accepted

So now, Stan is a dragon and Ford is convinced that Stan was tricked and keeps promising to fix him and Stan just rolls his eyes and plays with the kids

and somehow, Weridmageton still happens but Stan is a big magical dragon now and it turns out he can shift even BIGGER and is a big help in taking Bill down (I like the idea on true form Dragon Stan just....eating Bill....much to Ford awe and horror)

And more plot happens, maybe STan takes Mabel to the rest of the dragon clan because she's worried Dipper is going to stay in Gravity Falls and she'll be alone and Sheba (the dragon who recruited Stan/the Dragon Queen of the clan) gets to play therapist for the pines family issues

And eventually, the Stans make up, the twins make peace with each other and the insanity thay're about to go home to and, hey, turns out, Stan has a humanoid form too, perfect for sailing with his brother! Happy end where the Stans and Twins go visit a dragon clan every few months.

And thats what I got.

Well that, and a quick Dragon Stan concept

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

final post of the night: a reminder that ford likes the gnomes

now i know what youre thinking: ‘but wait he spends most of both pages talking about how theyre unsettling and steal his things’

yes. but he clearly intended to, at some point, publish the journal. meaning he was planning on other people seeing it

and what two things does he scribble out that we can actually make out? that they have proven themselves capable of complex thought and that their ability to stack on top of each other is admirable

more importantly, though- the scene where hes studying shmebulock senior. hes smiling and he says the gnome/the research he’s finding out about the gnome is fascinating. he casually asks the gnome what its name is. take it from someone whos terrible at discerning tone: he actually sounds happy during this. why would that be the case if he didnt like the gnomes?

so what are the chances that hes trying to sound like he doesnt like them, that he finds them unsettling and annoying, to fit in more with the people hes planning on showing the journal to?

what are the chances that he truly does like the gnomes but he knows most people wouldnt so he pretends he doesnt either?

[vttred]

Necrotic Gnome fans asked me to port Old-School Essentials products on a virtual tabletop, and although there were several challenges I'm happy with the results.

It's part of the Christmas in July sale on DriveThru

[bug-decal-kissing]

Hey friends!

A new work, Cosmic Weed Comes From Stoner Dreams, by PRINCELYTYPE, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, with additional tags "Mention of Cosmic Owl, Marijuana usage, Prismo is A Stoner, Scarab Caught Prismo Smoking, Scarab Smoked Once, Scarab Realizes He Likes Prismo, Prismo Likes Scarab but Only Just Now Confesses, it all works out, Cosmic Weed Comes From Stoner Dreams, Wisher Characters Briefly Mentioned, they kiss, they like each other, I love this ship, kinda rushed, enjoy i guess, Anyway That's It I Think"

You can read it here:

The homoeroticism of smoking weed, it is tangible/j they are THE 'fell in love first and fell in love hard' trope, and it is DELICIOUS I LOVE THEM JUST VIBING AND ALSO BEING IN LOVE AND ADMITTING IT YESSSS !!!

A new work, Fairy Ring by othersin, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Idea - Freeform, Fantasy, Fae & Fairies, Seelie Court, Unseelie Court, Slow Burn, Taboo Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, just the pretty moth wants to be with the feral beetle, Gnomes, Pixies, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Alternate Universe"

You can read it here:

THE WHIMSY !!! YES PLEASE <3 I lobe moth fairy Prismo and feral buge fairy Scarab AND FINN AND JAKE AND FERN AS GNOMES YES PLEASE <333 I'm so excited for this fic and if any new chapters come out I'm eating them so fast/pos

NSFW works are below the cut :].

The Beginning is the End is the Beginning, by grylos, was updated today, with 7/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and Graphic Depictions Of Violence, and Rape/Non-Con, with additional tags "Genocide, Slavery, Sexual Slavery, Bombs, Suicidal Thoughts, Sad, Happy Ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Backstory, Slow Burn, Child Abuse, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Corruption, Consensual Non-Consent, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Grooming, Oviposition, Bugs & Insects, bug sex, Cannibalism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con"

You can read it here:

Mind the tags for this chapter ! :]

MY BOOOOOOOOY NOOOOOOO IM GOING TO CRY AND ALSO MAYBE BECOME VIOLENTLY ILL/hj I need the locusts to explode simultaneously immediately i need them all dead RIGHT NOW THE BABIEEES THE BUGSSSSSS RAAAAAAAAGH

A new work, Lifeline by othersin, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Mature and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "prismo is god auditor, scarab is wishmaster, i don't consider this a personality swap, Attempt at Humor, Outer Space, Space Battles, Space Stations, cosmic owl is a raven called poe, the universe is aware of the og world, Bounty Hunters, Alternate Universe, Fluff and Humor"

You can read it here:

I wanna see that bounty hunter explode right now/j I LOVE POE HE FEELS BRITISH TO ME :]/silly. Golden Cicada is SMITTEN it radiates off of him <3 I also like Yuki hello cyborg fox lady 👀

Sick of Pickles, by phoenixash234flames, was updated today, with 2/2 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Threesome - M/M/M, is it still a threesome if the other person is still your partner, Nausea, Fluff and Humor, the pickles get to Scarab, stopping because of nausea"

You can read it here:

THEY ARE BACK !!! No pickles this time, NO PICKLES/silly !! Splitting into two so you can have a threesome with your husband is a power move, and so is shapeshifting a tentacle wiener BHNJCFMVGBH

[blorbologist]

hello did you say something about a lotr style retelling of campaign one???? if you're willing please do tell

Hi anon - this one likely won't be written for ages yet, I'd be happy to <3

So it's a very amorphous idea (like my Filles du roi AU) because I want to reread the books front to back before touching the project. But the ghist of it is that it'd be a mythological retelling of Campaign 1 with a similar framework to LOTR - a book built from the accounts of a few characters and them getting accounts from their friends / likely flat-out imagining some shit (hard to get a Sauron POV), written in prose of Tolkien's style. Characters will sing beautiful songs mid-battle, the hearts of men and their like are fundamentally good, and etc.

Here's the thing: Scanlan is the primary author, here, so he deliberately exaggerated and switched up a lot for the sake of the story. It might actually follow TLOVM's plot more closely than canon, because it already does a lot of the streamlining he would want to do.

I figure he only publishes this in his old age - when only he, Keyleth and Pike are left - and the girls both think the rest of the party would be delighted by this story so they don't go out of their way to correct it. Also Scanlan clearly worked hard on it with all the prose, illustrations, poetry and songs - it's a love letter to Vox Machina. (Some sections are from Vex when she was still around, with notes she got from Percy's journals. Tbh half the poetry is his, and all the Celestial.) There are also probably contributions (coughcorrectionscough) by Keyleth and Pike.

BUT ENOUGH WITH THE SAD SHIT

The main problem would be finding the right balance of LOTR elements and nailing the writing style. But I'm excited!

My thoughts so far include:

Given this is Scanlan writing this story, he and Pike are the main characters, taking up elements of Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin. Making them get separated and be present for the reclaiming of Whitestone (battle of Pelennor Fields, Merry & Pip) and their bond being pivotal to defeating the dark lord (Frodo and Sam. Pike doing the 'but I can carry you' thing <33)

Percy just... is Aragorn. It's stupid perfect for him: heir to an empire fallen from grace heavily associated with white and trees, hello?? Except all his names are part of his full name, not a host of aliases and titles.

Vex would likely be a combination of Faramir (ranger of Gondor, daddy issues galore) and Éowyn (I AM NO MAN, close friendship to one of the hobbits/gnomes, Trinket could be her horse). Both of them have a close bond with a brother that makes things absolutely heartbreaking. Except given she’s both Faramir and Éowyn she gets to smooch Percy-Aragorn, and their roles in the House of Healing are swapped (true love's crit).

Vax would likewise steal elements from Frodo (tragic bearer of the burden, cannot really go home) and Boromir :)

Keyleth and Grog neatly slot in with Percy as the Three Hunters. Grog and Percy n Kiki and Grog friendship time <33

Scanlan compresses the timeline so multiple great forces of evil act at the same time. Vecna is obviously Sauronlike, with a great evil land of evil. Undecided if the Briarwoods are Saruman (manipulation, sorta serve the great evil for their purposes) or Denethor (stewards of the white city, motivated by despair and in a twisted way love). Conclave could be akin to the Nazgul, or Saruman (Raishan namely, plus Saruman of the Many Colors = Chroma Conclave).

Look getting the balance Right between LOTR and CR and TLOVM is gonna be a bitch is what I'm saying, but taking some elements from LOTR would make it more fun.

Anyways apparently the theatrical edition doesn't include Éomer's cry of agony when he finds Éowyn on the battlefield???? Or Pippin looking for Merry amidst the corpses long after dark? I only ever watch the Extended Edition so im Heartbroken :c

Anyways watch this and think of the Twins (Éomer and Éowyn), Percy (Aragorn), and Pike & Scanlan (Merry & Pip):

[astaldis]

Eyehead

Chapter 8 of “To kill or not to kill”

Published: 2022-08-05 Completed: 2023-04-08

After two more days before noon it finally stops raining and the sun comes out. At first, the forest is swathed in dense mist as the excess humidity of the previous days evaporates in the warming rays of sunlight. However, with quickly rising, summerly temperatures, the fog soon dissipates, at least in the places where the trees do not grow too densely for the sunlight to reach the forest ground.

The Witcher's company take advantage of the favourable weather conditions. When they come across a sun-flooded clearing by the track, Zoltan Chivay, the dwarves' leader, gives a sharp whistle ordering a break. A longer break than usual at this time of day, Cahir suspects, as the women start to undress all the children and themselves and drape the branches of the surrounding trees with their wet clothes so they would dry in the sun. While the children are running around the glade naked and happy, the women dressed only in their shifts hide shamefully in the bushes and prepare the food. Most of the dwarves sit down near the wagon and start playing their inevitable and noisy card game. The other dwarves, including the long-nosed one who looks more like a gnome than a dwarf, and Milva disappear somewhere in the woods, maybe to find or hunt some food. Cahir will have to be careful not to bump into one of them while they are gathering mushrooms or whatever they are looking for. In the meantime the Witcher sits himself down close by the card playing dwarves and watches, obviously intrigued by the game. It sounds complicated but like a lot of fun. The Sandpiper has occupied a particularly sun-kissed spot to take a nap. A good idea.

Cahir finds a sufficiently sunny spot between the bushes to spread out his wet cloak to dry and flops down against a tree. As always, he is terribly hungry, having only had a handful of nuts and berries for breakfast, but he does not feel like walking around the woods to try and find more just now. No, sitting in the sun for a while and finally getting a little warm while taking a nap sounds like a much better idea. And if one of the mushroom hunting party stumbles upon him, then so be it. They have not tried to kill him yet, so why would they suddenly go out of their way and do it? Yawning heartily, Cahir closes his eyes and raises his face toward the more than welcome sun. After another night filled with bad dreams, it takes less than a minute for him to fall fast asleep.

All of a sudden, Cahir is rudely awakened from his slumber by a horrible din. He jolts bolt upright. What the fuck? The noise sounds like somebody is beating a ladle against a big metal lid with all their strength. Is that the newest dinner call? If so, everybody from here to the Yaruga has certainly heard it. What folly. Or maybe it is something else?

Just when Cahir is about to stand up to check what is going on in the clearing, there is a rustling in the bushes. A split second later the most grotesque creature he has seen in his life is standing right before him on its two pairs of thin, knotty hind legs, its ugly head with the impressive, sharp mandibles and the huge eyes set on stalks level with his own. He freezes.

Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40814940/chapters/114614950

[consequencesofargentdawn]

I'm sure you're already aware but I really wouldn't take anything Speedwagone says seriously considering he's a hardcore fetish RPer who objectifies women to a disturbing degree. It seems a bit odd of him to point fingers at ERP when he's got OCs that straight up look like blow-up dolls.

Hypocrites seek company of other hypocrites, no shock there. If anyone has further information on this odious vibrating gnome we would be happy to publish it here, anonymously of course if the contributor wishes to remain so.

[dramatisim]

Valentina woke up the next day to a hoard of angry gnomes making a ton of noise around her property. She spent the morning running around chasing them away. Thankfully they left for now...

She then asked Connor on a date to the Summer Festival. Valentina is completely smitten and just gazes into his eyes - especially with his contacts in (removed glasses and all those random accessories haha).

Then he POPPED THE QUESTION! (I use Deep Conversations and I said yes not realizing it would lead to him proposing to her.) Things are moving really fast but they want to take a nice long engagement before settling down together.

Valentina is so happy and ready to spend the rest of her life with Connor. Though she needs to work on getting some simoleans and getting her novels published.

[golden-writes]

Welcome, welcome! This is my main blog, made so because I forgot the password to my other blog and had to start fresh. Alas, we've all been there at least once, have we not?

I am Goldie, aka HocusPocus, aka HP, aka Hocus, you get the drift. I am in my 30's, have several pets and enjoy writing, reading, and creating. Below you'll find a master list of most of my answered prompts, with more to be added (probably going to be linking more master lists at some point).

I write Fanfiction - MCU, Inuyasha, Pokemon, Harry Potter(drifting away from that), The Hobbit, Teen Wolf, House of the Dragon, Game of Thrones, and The Walking Dead. However not all of my works are posted.

I also write Original Novels - Urban Fantasy, High Fantasy, Horror/sci-fi, Sci-Fi. I am very close to publishing my first novel and I'll add to this when I do.

Master List

Just a list of the prompts I've answered thus far from both blogs:

1940's Alien Noir Detective

Home, its where it wants to be

Would you Die for me?

Till Death do us Part

Reincarnation vs Immortal

Sock Gnomes (quick drabble)

Remembering Grandpa(his stories are real)

Dark Snow White retelling

One Last Time(I will survive)

Jailhouse Werewolf

Familiar Unfamiliar

Werewolves & Vampires Vs the Robot uprising

Seven Deadly Sins(I mean Zombies)

Major Whiskers

Demon Hunting

Christmas Heckpuppy

Galactic Conference's Guide to Hunting Humans

Revenge takes a lifetime(or two)

This Feeling? I Don't Know it

Zombie Apocalypse Survival

[235uranium]

tbqh I think one of the worst gf fanfic tropes is having ford quit being a scientist and not. having anyone challenge it.

like firstly it's just wildly not canon- ford is still doing his research! it's not like the portal was the only thing he was ever working on or even necessarily the best of his research (fiddleford even points out that ford had a mountain of research he could've published and likely would've still become insanely famous for due to the nature of him literally proving the existence of the paranormal within a scientific framework).

but also like, while I can see him having this sort of thought process in his darker moments, I do not think a single person around him would allow him to quit without a fight.

stan absolutely wouldn't- he still feels massive guilt over mocking fords desire to go to college, but he also would just be pissed off that ford thinks giving up all his interests would make stan happy! fuck no my brother is the world's nerdiest old man and that requires that I find him awake at 3 am studying gnome genetics.

[teardownit]

PCB Assembly Desktop Factory project. History and creation reasons.

History and creation reasons

Pic from: https://xc3sprog.sourceforge.net/guide.php

The project was created by accident at the moment of urgent need for a mobile standalone device for ISP programming and testing a lot of printed circuit boards with controllers and FPGAs. The task was quickly solved on a Raspberry by assembling a small IDC-10 socket adapter with a button and LEDs on a breadboard and installing OpenOCD and xc3sprog packages.

It became a solution, after which any thoughts about buying or upgrading another programmer just disappeared. In fact, if you have been working with programmable devices for a long time, you can surely find a whole museum of such devices for flashing (I have a whole drawer of them on my nightstand) - ByteBlaster, Segger, (maybe even several), ST-Link, etc., but there are many of them! These devices are built for LPT, COM, USB... lots of different ones, but here's the trouble - many are already old, unsupported, and incompatible. We'll have many more other reasons to finally buy a new one already. You know? And instead of all this happiness!

The advent of small and low-cost Linux microcomputers with GPIOs has allowed desktop applications to access external devices without special adapters, dongles, etc., leaving only electrical matching necessary.

Many projects immediately used this opportunity but also immediately raised the problem of unification on the use of GPIO (lack of unification). And this requires a solution.

Project Objective

The first project objective is to create extension boards for Linux microcomputers with GPIO, containing minimal indication and control elements and a small connector for connecting external devices with unified access to them.

Why do you need a board like this?

In most practical applications, the extension connectors of these microcomputers are redundant. For example, a cursory review of published Raspberry application projects shows that you will often find that 10-pin will suffice.

For the same reason, the same 40-pin connector is impractical (and more often - simply impossible) to install in the target device, and this means that somewhere, there must be a transition, a bridge to a smaller connector.

Serial matching is very useful (and sometimes necessary) when connecting devices, for which, for example, Segger has a special adapter. Raspberry has no matching elements, so they must be placed somewhere. By the way, these elements (resistors) are useful for another important reason - they effectively reduce the risk of GPIO damage.

A microcomputer, equipped with a minimalistic interface on a few LEDs and buttons, is freed from the monitor, mouse, and keyboard from the constant "tutelage" of the host-PC and becomes a handy standalone tool for a pervasive class of routine and cyclic tasks, such as: - programming, diagnostics (JTAG interface provides access to various pins of the chip, which allows the creation of the necessary test conditions (logic levels on the pins) and reading the states; general tests are also possible), - electrical training (test (usually cyclic) operation of the device in specified modes. For example, at the initial moment of the device lifetime, detection of hidden defects is most possible (semiconductors, switching, etc.), so "runs" of devices in the correct modes at the factory and workshop are necessary to ensure that consumers receive the best quality devices by filtering out defective devices back at the factory), etc. In fact, for example, what does the flashing process of a stack of assembled boards consist of? It consists of a sequence of actions: "plugin, start programming, wait, on a pass/fail signal, move to cell number either 1 or number 2, go back to the beginning". Ideal for a button and three LEDs.

GNOME Project, CC BY-SA 3.0 US, via Wikimedia Commons

The second project objective is to create a thematic repository with software a tool/infrastructure for easy and simple installation and updating of the required application/package.

The third project objective is to create and place in the repository thematic packages designed to facilitate installation and configuration, as well as application packages that solve independent tasks.

Already configured apps/packages, working scripts for apps with already configured pins and adapters for the right adapters.

=============================

Now we have a device that, first of all, is very versatile, and secondly, whose total lifetime should be much longer than the devices from our museum. It can be a classical programmer, working by command from a PC; it can be an autonomous device, able to program, test, and reject independently.

At the same time, the project's area of interest has expanded to the whole field of development, manufacturing, and testing of electronic devices - for example, you can install from our repository a package for cutting Dacron stencils with a plotter and use our know-how in working with such stencils. You can make or order a furnace for melting SMD components.

[aealzx]

I have way too many charas, so I ended up just settling with one of the ones that’s been around for awhile and given me a ton of brain rot to work with over the years XD Old art ahoy~

This is Azre Shelar (aaz-rey), and he’s my very first Drow oc that also has nothing to do with DnD or any other official/published works. I made him as a secondary character in a role play group on DeviantArt and at the time I thought Drow was just another generic fantasy race like dwarf, elf, gnome, etc. Then I found out that Drow are actually a pretty hardcore DnD race, and eventually came to calling my version of Drow “softcore” because they’re a lot less chaotic evil/murder hobo X’D

So a bit of Azre’s info is that he’s the 2nd son of an arranged marriage couple, Andara and Falven, who are only married because his mother’s family blackmailed his father’s family into it for resource security, and his father volunteered for the marriage in place of his brother. Andara is not the greatest person, and was way too strict and emotionally distant while raising Azre, to the point Azre ended up turning into an emotionless doll of sorts because he couldn’t figure out how to make his mom happy and therefore just shut down completely. By the time Azre was 11, his dad finally ignored his wife’s wishes and contacted his brother to ask for help with Azre, which is a big deal because they’re a matriarcal society and the wife is the one that runs the household. This led to Azre being taken in by his uncle, Basim, who was slowly able to crack Azre out of his shutdown shell mode.

Present day Azre is now a good boy to his family, but struggles with emotions ‘cause he’s way behind in being able to recognize what he’s feeling and how to manage it. He still lives with his uncle, aunt, and cousin. But while he’s extremely attached to his uncle he struggles to truly bond with his aunt and cousin because he’s unable to recognize that a mother figure doesn’t have to be the one that birthed the person, and because he feels like he’s invaded their family. Especially since he was a handful kid to deal with, and once the Basim got the barrier on his emotions to break Azre turned into a big crybaby who also had a huge amount of untrained natural shadow magic that easily went haywire. Lately he tries to make it up to them by being useful and putting his love of magic to work making them convenient charms and scripts like an anti dust barrier for his aunt;s textiles and such. And presently he works with Basim in a tiny group of people called Specter, who are the under the radar agents that report to the nation’s head intelligence general. 

Other random facts:

Azre has such a high affinity to the shadow element that he almost registers as an elemental being instead of a humanoid creature. This is partly a result of him having an abnormal amount of inborn shadow magic. The downside is that light and holy element things affect him a lot more than other drow. Ma boy squints like a 90 yo human grandpa without glasses when he’s in the afternoon sun, and gets headaches from light easily.

He has negative stats when it comes to weapon combat, which only served to increase his mother’s frustration with him. He doesn’t want to be handicapped by relying on magic exclusively though, so picked up quite a bit of training in hand to hand combat.

His favorite food is pineapple

As part of his job he’s learned how to disguise himself as a woman, and will sometimes stand in for one of a set of twin drow performers at a brothel. He only covers open room performance type jobs, so doesn’t deal with any customers in the bedroom. Just dances on stage in revealing clothes as eye candy.

He has a really hard time with uneducated people, which leads him to behaving like a snarky bitchy child when he has to interact with them too long.

After the world war his aunt and uncle have a baby girl named Reha, and she instantly stole Azre's heart and he easily gets distracted by her.

More random pics of him, his uncle, and baby cousin:

OC PROPAGANDA!!! I WANT OC PROPAGANDA RIGHT NOW! Everyone show me the oc blorbo!!! I gotta know everyone's OCS tell me why you're spinning them around in your head!!! I want propaganda!!!

Please and thank you 🙏

[writersrumpus]

Celebrate the Book Birthday of FINLEY: A MOOSE ON THE CABOOSE with author Candace Spizzirri!

It’s my great pleasure to interview author Candace Spizzirri on the book birthday of her second picture book, FINLEY: A MOOSE ON THE CABOOSE, brought to us by Gnome Road Publishing. This book is a sheer delight, and so is Candace! Candace: Thank you, Laura, for having me on your blog today! I’m delighted to be here. Laura: I’m so happy to welcome you to Writers’ Rumpus. What was your…

[acrirealty-blog]

3 HOA Holiday Decoration Tips that make Homeowners Happy

New Post has been published on https://blog.hoa-websiteservices.com/acri-property-management/3-hoa-holiday-decoration-tips-that-make-homeowners-happy/

3 HOA Holiday Decoration Tips that make Homeowners Happy

Do you have a homeowner who tends to go overboard with their holiday or other decorations? And though “tis the season”, we’re not just referring to holiday decorations here – what about those major team sports enthusiasts, or the garden lovers and their myriad of gnomes or fairies?

Does your HOA have some reasonable and easy to follow rules? And just what does “reasonable” mean anyway?

When developing rule policies, it is best to work backward. For instance, focus on achieving an acceptable end result – the reasonable rules your association wants to achieve. Beginning with the end in mind will often preclude having to deal with over the top and extreme violation occurrences.

When developing reasonable rule policies, it is best to work backward. Click To Tweet

How to Develop Your HOA Holiday Decoration Guidelines

Use these easy to follow tips to guide your decision making regarding creating yard decoration rules.

Set up a time frame

Identify when holiday lights can be put up and must be taken down, such as no sooner than 30 days before the holiday and no later than two weeks afterward.

Develop a sports game day or playoff tournament strategy. For instance, allow decorations and flags on game days only. Stipulate that decorations and signage be removed within a 24 hour period.

Set up a scope

Some associations allow only a certain length of lights, such as 200 total feet of lighting.

Identify the spaces on which lights may be hung, such as along the roof line, front door, front windows, and one tree in the front yard.

Try to restrict roof-anchored displays, such as inflatable Santa’s and reindeer.

Set up sound restrictions, ban all sound elements or allow them only during certain hours, say from 9 a.m. to 8 p.m. so that neighbors don’t complain about being bombarded with holiday music while they’re trying to sleep.

Ask that spotlights not shine in neighbor’s windows.

Reserve HOA Rights

Define what’s over-the-top before owners go there.

Include the right for your architectural review committee to approve (or disapprove) holiday displays that are not on the approved list.

You can ask for the decorative elements to be modified or removed if an ARC request was not made to help avoid hard feelings.

Rinaldo Acri CEO of Acri Community Realty Says:

“Choose your battles wisely. Everyone has differing opinions regarding tasteful holiday decorations. Although it is important to maintain the integrity of the look and feel of your community, it is also wise to embrace the spirit of good will knowing full well that keeping the peace is oftentimes the best policy of all.”