#We even pay a day in advance just in case something doesn't work or we can't pay later
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Buy me a coffee
THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE TWO HOURS ASKING FOR THINGS IS LITERALLY MY WORST FEAR BUT FUCK IT WE BALL
my mum could really use £30-40 for groceries. We've spent a lot of money fixing stuff this month like replacement pipes and central heating (that really should be our landlord's responsibility..). She only has £150 left but we've still got bills to pay later this month so not much to spend on food and other necessities. Universal credit + her wage doesn't get paid until the end of the month (something is coming next week too but idr) 🥲
Usually we ask family and close friends for borrowing money but no one has been able to lend any aaa
No pressure to donate whatsoever — but if you have some extra money, any support would be greatly appreciated mwah <3
#minimum wage paired with her being a single parent and all that isn't really the best combination but eh#If it weren't for everything breaking at once I wouldn't have to ask#Anyway I need to shit on my landlord for a sec because I'm so pissed off#He doesn't fix anything (or at least takes a long time — he's been “fixing” our fence for thr past 4 years because its soo expensive and#otherwise he can't go on his quarterly holiday 🥺)#And he still has the audacity to raise rent every year when we've been renting for 10+ years now and never missed a payment#How do you go from £900 to £1500 a month for 2 bedrooms#We even pay a day in advance just in case something doesn't work or we can't pay later#But the one time she payed at 10 in the morning on the day he automatically started asking if its been transferred bc he can't see it#Even though its any time during the 24h and then the grace period#Its in the contract that YOU WROTE erm#Maybe stuff wouldn't be breaking all the time if you actually invested in high quality pieces#When we signed the first contract he literally bought the house 2 days prior and didn't renovate anything lmao#lasar being incoherent
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I try to stay away from negative topics, but after hearing talk on social media yesterday and seeing this post from @such-a-downer, I just had to give my two cents about the complaints regarding yesterday's chapter being "another short mission" and that Endo is somehow being "lazy" or whatever.
I honestly don't understand this mentality of criticizing manga-ka, or any artists really, because they aren't delivering by whatever standards you personally think are appropriate. To me, it just seems like entitlement because Endo has no obligation to cater to any specific fan's wants. This is his story to tell the way he wants, and his characters to develop at the pace he deems fit. This isn't a business contract where we're paying him to deliver content we want every two weeks without fail. If I'm consuming the fruits of someone's creative labor for free, I certainly feel no right to complain if sometimes their content isn't what I wanted or expected. I'm fine with that because 1) I know it's what they (the creator) wanted/needed at the time, and 2) even if a particular chapter wasn't my cup of tea, I know other fellow fans out there somewhere are enjoying the heck out of it, and that's cool!
We also have to remember that SxF is basically a one-man show. If Endo is busy or sick or whatever, it's not like he can have someone fill in for him to write and draw the series. That's what a hiatus is for, that's what making a short chapter instead of a longer one is for...that's how artists should be treated so they don't get burned out and stressed. Plus, art shouldn't be rushed. Any artist knows that there are times when you have trouble coming up with ideas and maybe need a little extra time to develop a more complex section of the story. To immediately jump to conclusions that he's lazy or doesn't know what he's doing is ridiculous. Maybe he didn't feel good for a few days, maybe he's been busy with other SxF events, maybe he just needed more time to get a particular future arc developed, or maybe he just has basic IRL obligations to take care of like we all do...you don't know what's going on in his life, so don't make assumptions.
Another thing to keep in mind is that it's literally impossible to please every fan. One of the comments I read for example, someone was ready to drop the series because we haven't seen much of Yor in "a while." All I could think of was "didn't she just have a pretty big role only four chapters ago when they went to the ski resort?" Plus she was the star of chapter 91, which was less than ten chapters ago. So according to this person's standards, four chapters without seeing a particular character is "too long"? What if it was only three chapters, would that be acceptable? It's not right to push our own personal standards of a series' pacing as the "correct" way: some people want to see more of character X while someone else wants to see more of subplot Y, so should both complain that the manga-ka isn't doing right whenever they focus on something else? I'm not saying you shouldn't make criticisms of a manga-ka's work, but the criticisms should come from within the narrative itself, not superficial things like chapters focusing on subplots/characters you don't want to see or not having enough "plot-advancing" content when it's not a plot-focused series.
People who have read SxF up to this point should know the general flow of the chapters: mostly slice-of-life episodic, with more plot-heavy, intense arcs once in a while, like the cruise arc and bus arc. It's an ensemble series that spends most of its chapters focused on at least one of the Forgers, but occasionally other characters here and there. That's how the series has been for years and will likely continue to be. So if you keep complaining because you only like the dramatic story arcs and not the "nothing happens" episodic chapters, then maybe the series just isn't for you. It's totally fine if that's the case, but don't act like Endo is doing something wrong because he's not providing the particular thing you want in his story.
To summarize, Endo has no obligation to cater to particular fans' standards, just as we have no obligation to keep reading his work if we don't like it. But being a fan to me means respecting the creator's pace and vision even if it's not always what I personally want. I can find something to enjoy in every chapter because I'm a fan of SxF, not a fan of one particular aspect of it. But I also will not complain every time my tastes aren't being catered to and will simply occupy myself with other things while I wait. What's the big hurry, after all? I'm in no rush for SxF to wrap up its plot and I'm glad Endo isn't rushing either.
And that's all I'm gonna say about this topic, lol. On a happier note, I'm going to finally see Code White on Thursday! 😁 More to come later~
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Daryl's Arrows: Symbolism, Pt. 1 (Green and White)
It has been a while since I've made a TD post. I'm hoping to make a comeback these days, and in my first attempt to do that, I'd like to talk about a topic I've been paying attention to for several years now: the symbolic nature of Daryl's arrows.
Daryl's arrows change color over the course of the series, as I'm sure you've noticed. In the past, we've seen colors and color combinations including red, yellow, green, white, and black. Sometimes they're dirty. Sometimes they're tattered. Sometimes they're pristine. Sometimes they're seen and not used. Colors in TWDU always mean something, and Daryl's arrows are no exception. In this series of posts, I want to look at how Daryl's arrows are used as foils for his psychological state, and how they often reflect his relationship and symbolic proximity to Beth. As one of the most visually compelling characters in the series, Daryl and his vast inventory bear many clues in terms of how he feels and where he's headed. With Daryl, who is a stoic character, what we see is often much more important than what we hear.
First, just for reference, in case you're unfamiliar with the anatomy of an arrow, I'll be referencing two key parts in these posts: the FLETCHING (or feathered "wings" around the back of the arrow), and the NOCK (the, often colored, slotted tip at the end of the arrow, opposite the arrow point, aka the arrow tip, or arrowhead).
The changing color of Daryl's arrows is not confined to just the fletching. His nocks change color as well and are equally important.
The Prison: Green
As is everything with Team Delusional, this analysis originates with Scott Gimple, and like so much else we are still striving to understand, episode 3.12 "Clear."
If you look closely at the shot from above, you'll see Daryl's *new* crossbow, leaning against the gun rack on the righthand side of the screen. Daryl begins the series with a much simpler design. The pictured more advanced compound crossbow is given to him by Michonne and Rick, after they bring it back from Morgan's cache, which is like Gimple's magical well full of hints and symbols. Beginning in the very next episode "Arrow on the Doorpost," Daryl trades his old crossbow for the new one, which he will use *almost* (more on that later) exclusively for the remainder of the series, and which he still uses now (or did up until recently, when he lost it in Portland, ME).
Daryl's *new* crossbow (pictured above) is special, because when it's given to him, it contains arrows with special, alternating green and white fletching, as well as green nocks. It's important that this crossbow and, more specifically, THESE arrows, are gifted to him, as opposed to being choices he made for himself, and I will talk more about choices soon.
"Clear" immediately follows the mini-arc in season 3 in which Daryl leaves the prison with Merle and then returns. The theme of coming "home" is pervasive in TWDU, particularly with Daryl, who, for much of his character arc, has seemingly been without one. Further, the act of making a decision to settle down, to stay in one place, to commit himself has unabashedly occurred to Daryl only two times over the course of the series: 1.) In the episode "Home," when he chooses to return to Rick and the prison, even if it means leaving Merle behind, and 2.) in the episode "Alone," when he chooses to stay and to "make it work" in the funeral home with Beth.
Every other time Daryl has decided to "settle down" or to "stay" somewhere, such as Alexandria, the Commonwealth, and the Nest in France, it's either been because of inertia, coercion, obligation, or some combination of the three.
Perhaps you can see by now that Daryl and decision-making are important factors to this character analysis. The truth is, Daryl is a passive character. He doesn't make many decisions that are driven by a strong internal motivation or code. He makes decisions because they're easy, because they're what he *should* do, or because they're what someone else told him or asked him to do. Very rarely does Daryl make a choice based on his own desires or his own code. He is reactive at times, ie: He makes emotional decisions driven by rage, revenge, annoyance, etc.. But these are not deliberate choices. They are passionate, in the heat of the moment, and he may even come to regret them or to change his mind.
We can see this clearly at the end of Daryl Dixon season 1, in which we really have no idea whether Daryl desires to stay in France or if he desires to go home. We don't know if he's going home simply because he thinks he should, or because he truly wants to, or because he just has some chip on his shoulder about staying. We don't even know if he considers the Commonwealth, or Alexandria for that matter, to be home, because he didn't choose either of those domains for himself. They were chosen for him, and he's just sort of been drifting in and out ever since. If anything, in the first season of DD, we learn that Daryl seems to be a man without a home, and a man without strong motivating factors to make choices, or to act.
We learn in Daryl Dixon that one very important potential motivational factor for Daryl that is entirely missing from his life is that of a family of his own. And no, I don't mean friends, or found brothers and sisters, or nieces and nephews. I mean a wife and children (his OWN children, not Rick's children).
SO what does this have to do with Daryl's new crossbow? Well, first of all, Daryl's crossbow is gifted to him, a bit of "supernatural aid" to help him along on his hero's journey. The arrows, as well, are a gift. In the second half of season 3 and the first half of season 4, we see Daryl display unprecedented feelings of happiness and a focused purpose. He is given this chance, but ONLY once he chooses to stay.
In 3.10 "Home," Daryl makes his first major choice, which is to return to the prison, aka to return home. Once he starts using his new crossbow, he will then use the green and white arrows exclusively for the rest of season 3, all of season 4, and some of season 5 (until the episode "Spend"). The one major common denominator to this run is his proximity to Beth.
The color combination in these arrows is green and white, which parallels clothing and jewelry worn by Beth in the first half of season: Beth's earrings and her outfit in 4.1 "30 Days Without an Accident," and Beth's outfit in 4.2 "Infected."
The "Beth lookalike" dead girl in "Infected" shows an interesting juxtaposition as well.
In 4.4 "Indifference," one of my favorite examples of foreshadowing for Daryl and Beth, in a scene in which Daryl's arrows look very green against the verdant landscape, Daryl finds a rare piece of green jasper on the ground. As he's cleaning it off, Michonne initially responds suggestively, smiling, as if she knows something we don't. She says, "It's a good color. Brings out your eyes."
Daryl responds quickly, correcting her to say that it's for Mrs. Richards, who has become ill. But this surprises Michonne. That's clearly not who she thought it was for.
The piece of green jasper that Daryl finds looks suspiciously like the stone Beth wears in her earrings. Toward the end of the episode, Daryl can be seen studying the jasper pensively in the car while the rest of the team gets ready to go. This moment is rarely discussed, but I believe he is actually thinking about Beth when he holds the jasper that day, ready to return home from a long, hard journey. I also think Michonne might have known that something was going on. Of course, we may never know the truth on that, but Michonne is a romantic character, and if anyone was going to notice Daryl's feelings for Beth, it might just be her.
Remember that green jasper is rare. It was chosen here for a reason. It is viewed as containing powers of protection and healing, as well as relief from obsessive behaviors and compulsions. You can read more about the properties and historical significance of green jasper here.
In any case, the color green is, of course, easily attributable to Beth, whose last name is green. This is specifically true when it's seen around Daryl. When it's seen around Rick, we might alternatively associate green with Hershel. But while Hershel might be Rick's "Greene," Beth is Daryl's "Greene." And when Daryl's arrows "trend" green, that means that her story and her relationship to him is creating psychological friction with his character on screen. It means, not only that she is "with" him, but that he accepts her there, and he is still the man he was trying to be at the time that he first chose the prison, and the time after the prison that he spent with her.
The connection between Daryl's arrows and Beth begins literally, but after "Coda," the connection becomes symbolic. We'll get there soon.
I also do want to point out that though this connection is somewhat subtle in season 3, once we get to season 4, with Gimple at the helm, the connection becomes much clearer and more overt. This supports the hypothesis that Beth and Daryl are Gimple's "pet" creation, something he always wanted to explore but never could, because they and their relationship are not a part of the comics. But via Daryl's arrows, he is able to keep their relationship alive in the background.
After the Prison: White
After the prison, when Daryl and Beth are physically together, and then we transition into Daryl's search for Beth in Atlanta, Daryl's arrows remain the same: alternating green/white; however, some unique shifts occur, in terms of emphasis.
Here's a shot from "Inmates," as Daryl pulls an arrow out of a walker's head near the train tracks.
This shot is from "Alone."
And here's one from "Consumed." This is one of my favorite shots of Daryl in the entire series.
In all of these shots, the arrows, which alternate green AND white for fletching, are specifically arranged in front of the camera so that the fletching looks entirely WHITE. White arrows are angelic in nature, protectors. They accompany Daryl and Beth’s discovery of the deceased innocents from the bus, imploring faith that not all hope is lost, as some of the children lived. They accompany Beth as she shoots Daryl’s crossbow near the cemetery, once again calling on us to "have a little faith," as even though Beth is caught in a trap, she is rescued by Daryl. And as you can see in the shot above from “Consumed,” the two white arrows literally resemble the wings of an angel, balanced delicately on Daryl's shoulder as he gazes out over the city, eventually seeing the Grady van in the distance, a major clue.
Note that per the "Consumed" shot, we see this same arrangement, double-white, from two separate angles, showing its purposeful nature. The first, just Daryl from the side (above), the second, both Carol and Daryl, head-on (below). Though they mirror one another in body language, Carol looks down, unsure of her fate. Daryl looks straight ahead, a man of conviction.
In "Consumed," Daryl is communicated as a hopeful, motivated man, helping Carol through her crisis of faith and disconnection from her purpose and identity as the two of them search Atlanta for signs of Beth. He finds and takes the book about overcoming child abuse, a clue that he is making conscious choices to get better, and he is entering a real path to renewal and self-improvemet, all thanks to his time with Beth. Note, too, that angels do not only flock to Daryl via his arrows. He is also protected in the falling van, by the crucifixes on the back windows, and the holy Mother Mary, watching over him from the dash. In the shot below (right), you can also see, once again, the duality of body language between Daryl and Carol. Daryl is braced, staring straight ahead, ready for anything, while Carol, in her crisis of faith, breathes heavily and cowers in fear.
Carol endures bad injuries from the crash, which are worsened when she is hit by a car. Daryl, however, emerges without a scratch. This theme of protection and indestructibility, for Daryl, will return in the future. In the episode, Carol tells Daryl that he has "become a man" now, and we see him perhaps as driven and committed to any cause as he will ever be. That cause is finding Beth. You can see this once more very clearly in the final shot of the episode, in which even Noah notices, looking at him like “WTF did I just walk into?” For the third time, too, we see Daryl noticeably squared up, facing straight ahead in the shot, showing commitment and determination, while Noah's expression is unsure.
Also, if you look closely at the shot above, you can see, one more time, a single white, angelic arrow, perched just above the dash.
Daryl shoots one more white arrow over the course of the series, but it's not for a very long time. In 6.15, "East," just before the group is ambushed by the Saviors, Daryl, angry about Denise, having had his crossbow stolen by Dwight in 6.6 "Always Accountable," goes out searching for Dwight to take his revenge. In the scene, Daryl wanders a clearing as the bright sun shines down upon him, directly reminiscent of the sun coming through the trees in "Them." So reminiscent, in fact, that it is the same exact shot, just inverted both horizontally and vertically and adjusted with a red filter. Quick aside: Below, you can see the original two shots, the lefthand shot from "East," the righthand shot from "Them."
Now, here are the shots again, with the shot from "East" on the left, inverted once, horizontally and vertically. You can also see the red in how it colors the light filtering through the trees. This communicates that since Beth's death, which he was directly morning underneath the tree in the shot on the right, Daryl's character has been "upside down." He's messed up. What was right is now wrong, and what was wrong is now right, and his descent lies ahead.
Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn come after him, to try and dissuade him. When they do, Daryl shoots an arrow right past Rosita's face and into a tree. That arrow, the last of the green/white arrows we will ever see, appears entirely white in his hand and foretells that in the confrontation to come, Daryl, unlike two of his brethren, will be spared.
In my next post, I'll move on to Daryl's red arrows, focusing on Noah's death, 5.15 "Try" and 5.16 "Conquer," as well as 6.6 "Always Accountable," Denise's death and what this all means. I believe that, over the seasons, Gimple has found small ways in which to show that Daryl has been continuously protected by Beth's presence, but that, in his darkest hours, he is not always eager to accept it. 💫
I'm going to tag some other TDers in these posts, just for reference. If you'd like me to tag you in future posts, please just comment here to let me know, and I will! ❤️
@wdway @twdmusicboxmystery @frangipanilove @angelthefirst1
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since this seems to be my topic of obsession for today...
turns out Bluesky internally uses content-based addressing and IPFS. I don't have a lot of use for it since it's a Twitter clone, and I've never got on very well with Twitter. Bluesky hides most of that from the user - it looks just like any old web app backed by a central server. i need to look into this more, Bluesky is taking inspiration from IPFS but it's using its own protocol, and it is doing some good things. I think its protocols could be used for something more Tumblr-like.
there's a protocol called PubSub which sounds like it does a lot of what I want, or rather gives you the low-level framework to broadcast info across a decentralised network. you could build a social network on top of that. IPFS uses it as one way of handling mutable data, like 'my website just updated'.
there's an absolute plethora of ideas, protocols, and tools for decentralised file sharing, decentralised messaging, decentralised social networks. this broad idea space is very much the hot new thing at the moment. some of them seem like they're growing. a lot of them have glossy websites with animations and stock photos of smiling people. it's hard to know in advance what's worth paying attention to. the whole field is dense with acronyms and rather abstruse concepts. which unfortunately means the current audience tends to be limited to tech nerds (c'est moi) and crypto cultists (ce n'est pas moi. merde!).
Briar is a protocol I find personally very appealing. it's security-oriented, designed to be crazy resilient, creating a mesh network through whatever protocols are available. you use it for E2E-encrypted messaging, but also you can use it for threaded discussions and blogs. right now it's only available for phones but they're working on a desktop version. the primary use case seems to be like "you're at a protest and the gov shuts off the internet", but it would be a very sexy place to put your blog. that said, I expect it would not be very fast at all.
the major encryptable, decentralised Discord/IRC alternative is Matrix. I broadly like the look of it, but we have the same problem of inertia getting people to switch from Discord, and there's still some jank I encountered when I tried it.
there's a lot of cryptocurrency in this whole area. (not surprising since the underlying tech of crypto is also hash-based, and there's ideological overlap between crypto and torrent people, because 'decentralised').
notably, there's a companion project to IPFS, a complicated scheme called FileCoin which is designed to encourage people to host data for a certain period in return for FileCoin tokens. you get FileCoins for consistently holding onto the data, and you lose a stake of FileCoins if you delete it prematurely. these FileCoins can then be used mainly to pay other people to host data for you: you pay FileCoins to a host, and pay them again to fetch your data(!). or you can trade them for other cryptocurrencies.
I'll acknowledge it doesn't seem as intrinsically environmentally corrosive as proof-of-work crypto, or even as simply 'the rich get richer' as proof-of-stake crypto. it's not filling up HDDs with random crap either. though it does sound like it requires quite a bit of CPU work to be done in all the hashing for the 'sealing' process.
I'm still not entirely convinced of the benefit this scheme brings. crypto stuff has a tendency to go belly-up very abruptly when speculative bubbles pop, so I wouldn't be super excited to rely on FileCoin for archiving some valuable bit of data. of course any offsite backup carries risk, e.g. Dropbox could go bankrupt one day. but I'm way less convinced of the benefits of something like FileCoin than IPFS. I guess it remains to be seen if this takes off.
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English is not my language, sorry for the spelling mistakes.
I hope you are we, I wanted to ask if I need to specify when I manifest For example, when I expressed a better job for my sister, they began to harass her at work until she got tired and went to another job Where they pay her more and treat her better, was it my fault? Is it necessary to specify or visualize how it happens?
And the last
When I am manifesting good grades but I say I always get a 10 when in reality my grades are graded from 1 to 100 or 1 to 5, does it affect my manifestation?
Thank you very much in advance
(◍•ᴗ•◍)❤
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
hihi anonie!! i hope you are doing well too and there's no need to apologise for anything (´。• ᵕ •。`)
you don't have to be super specific when manifesting something. however, having a clear picture of what you want (have) and how you receive it does no harm! you don't have to do it but doing so will just effectively manifest how you want your reality to go. you're just manifesting the way you receive your desire combined with manifesting the fruition of your desire.
honestly even just the assumption that you always receive your manifestations in a way that is favourable for you and your loved ones, and everything works out in your favour, can be enough.
i used to worry endlessly about whether whatever i would manifest would come to me in horrible or undesirable ways.
but why worry? no matter what i imagine, or whatever i want to manifest, i know that i will always get what i want in a way that is favourable to me.
because at the end of the day, i control my reality. i control my assumptions. i control what is reflected out into the 3D. i choose what i want, and what i have. i have full control over anything that will and can happen.
remind yourself of these things.
it doesn't hurt to be specific with what you want to manifest and how you want to happen. and of course, there is no right or wrong way to manifest anything. people have manifested exactly what they wanted be being super specific, while others have been able to manifest what they want be being super general.
adding specifics into your visualisations/imaginations would only help you by manifesting how exactly you want your reality to go.
do whatever you think is right for you and whatever helps you the most!
if it helps you and makes you feel better, add specifics. visualise how you want to receive your desires. go in with the assumption that everything will work out in your favour. live be that person.
as for manifesting your grades, instead of making it complicated, you could always just manifest and intention that you always get the highest grades possible.
i don't think manifesting in that way would affect your manifestations for yourself, but it might be easier to just be general about it in this case and assume/manifest that you always get the highest grade possible!
it only affects your manifestations if you believe/assume so.
anyways, i hope i was able to help!
i hope you have a wonderful day and take care ♡( ◡‿◡ )
- saturn ♡
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The oldest daughter.
The only thing I relate to my mom is my desperate need to be loved, and the incomprehensible fear of abandonment I feel when I try to reach for my mother, but there's no mother to reach to.
She tried to fulfill an empty place in her with me, unsuccessfully, because if you don't know how to love, you don't know how to teach someone to love.
I don't even know if I love her. Rationally, I feel like I love her because I don't hate her, but rationally, I also feel like it's imposible to love someone who hurt you that much.
But, does she loves me? She has always said that if she lost me, she couldn't live anymore. She told me that she loves me. She told me that everything she does is for me. She tells everyone that I'm a great daughter. She told me that I take so much care of the house and that she is so grateful for that. She told me that I have so much talent and that she will always support me.
However, that only happens when she's in a good mood. I don't have enough fingers in my hands and feets together to count every time I had to be extremely quiet, everytime I had to read her breath or posture, everytime I had to prepare the house for her to come, everytime I had to think on advance and wonder what could possibly made her mad, so I could fix it on time. Hiding in my room so she doesn't get mad at me, but not for too long. Headphones on my head so I don't hear her yelling around the house, but just one ear covered in case she needs something from me.
If anything went wrong, she didn't love me anymore. Suddenly, I was stupid, I was a bad daughter, I was a burden, I didn't help her with the house, I was ungrateful. When she was in a bad mood, my house was a battlefield; if she was home, I knew she was going to be saying bad things to the air, but making shure I could hear her. If we were in the same room, I knew I was going to be yelled at for whatever reason. Steps like an earthquake. Things getting dropped.
I am terrified of my mother, cause anything could go wrong in any moment, and it would be my fault. Bad day at work? My fault. My siblings did anything wrong? My fault. She was running late? My fault. She didn't know how to do something? My fault.
All around her is chaos; dirty house, always late, messy feelings and messier responses. And it was my duty to make all of that go away.
She raised a liar, a people pleaser, an outstanding empathetic and anxious woman, a perfectionist, a control freak. But overall, she raised a woman incapable of knowing that she is loved, and incapable of love somebody. Just like her. As an adult, I've learned how to camouflage all of this, I've learned how to treat people, how to show the affection I have for others, how to rationally know when someone loves me, but deep in my heart, I know that I will never be able to truly feel that for myself. I feel like a monster sometimes, and at the same time, I feel like I'm just a little girl trying to win everyone's approval; desperate and lost. I don't know who I am.
I don't hate my mom as a person. I think she is not bad, I think she is charming. But I hate the mom she is. She is a teenager in the body of an adult, and a teenager shouldn't be a mom.
I know she never had the chance to develop herself, to learn how to regulate herself, how to get over that characteristic selfishness of teenagers, how to develop an inner monolog and be better. I know she is not a bad person cause I know where she comes from, and how she thinks and the limitations she has. But I know, also, that I shouldn't be paying all of that. I have compassion for my mom, but I also have it for myself.
I didn't have the opportunity of being a teenager. She had a bad mom, so I had to be the mom of the two of us. I'm not sure if I've found peace with it, but I know I feel better than the last 20-ish years.
When your mom is not your mom, it breaks your heart. I'm just a kid with her heart broken.
#mommy issues#motherslove#oldest daughter#deep thoughts#feelings#female rage#girlhood#just girly things#mom#mother#parenting
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i thought matt said essek's goal was to ingratiate himself to guide the nein away from the truth of his crime, not to kill them?
Correct! He did! I also realize looking back at my post that I didn't quite elaborate on something--mostly because I did not realize just how many people would read it. I'll take this chance to clarify a few things.
First, context. A short while ago, a post cycled a few times through my mutual group, many of whom are Essek fans/lovers/haters for various reasons, before I added in some sauce. For those who don't want to click, here's a screenshot:
Then I received an ask noting that they didn't think it was proven that Essek had given the Scourger a shiv:
Then I received another ask, which was the long post about why I thought Essek would have wanted to give the Scourger a shiv:
Which led to a bunch of other asks because, despite main tagging the characters, I didn't actually expect anyone to pay any mind to the post. I don't usually do meta posts, so I didn't anticipate all these responses. That's how we wound up here.
All that said, because my focus was on making a persuasive case for why murder was one of the options available to Essek and therefore why he had motive to ensure the Scourger had a shiv available to attack Caleb, I did not do the best job at emphasizing that murder was one of the options available. I don't think killing the Nein was the only option, the first option, or even the favored option. I think it was one of many and the Scourger just happened to be convenient.
So time to finesse. Next, yes, Matt absolutely chimed in on Essek's motivations of getting to know the Nein in the Campaign 2 Wrap-Up:
Marisha: Well, I'm curious, because-- and you've kind of loosely touched on this before-- that Essek was kind of supposed to be a bad guy, and then we made friends with him, and his heart grew three sizes that day? Matt: Yeah, you totally Grinched that motherfucker. ... Marisha: What was his plan? Matt: Essek-- Essek was designed not to be a major antagonist but an antagonistic force in the world. You guys kind of barged into the Kryn Dynasty and gave this extremely sought-after, thought-lost artifact that is intrinsic to their entire culture and religion. And as soon as you did that, Essek was like, "Well, first off, I know how they got that beacon, and I'm attached to this. I'm the one that smuggled it out, so I need to get in real close with these people and keep an eye on everything they do, because they're now the biggest loose end on my guarded person." You know, like-- like-- you know, if-- it's like committing murder and someone walks in and is like, "I found a boot in your yard," and he's like, "Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!" You guys brought this in, and he was like, "I have to get to know them well." He immediately was like, "I'll take care of them. I'll work with their business. I'll figure out what they're going, and I'll be their-- their--" you know-- Laura: Liaison. Matt: Chaperone, essentially. And so it was him just trying to cover his ass while also trying to figure out what you were up to, what your connections were, how much you knew. And then the more he got to know you guys-- because his whole goal was just to keep this thing going with the Dynasty. He was fed up with a lot of the political structure of the Dynasty, or-- come to think of it, sorry, with the-- with the Assembly. He was fed up with a lot of the Dynasty's zealotry and he doesn't really have any formal interest in the Luxon, and he thinks that it's misguided. He thinks that there's a lack of interest in seeing what Dunamancy can actually do because everything is regimented instead by the cultural history of it, and he just wants to advance to see what is possible, and he found partnership in the Assembly in that way. But you guys kept, like, inviting him over for dinner, and asking about his-- Liam: We really scrambled his eggs. Matt: Yeah! Liam: For real, when we left him, I was like, "Well, I really hope that-- I see things that I have in common with him and I empathize, but he's going to need years to unpack his shit, or he's not, or he's just going to bend back and do all the things he was doing before without us." And then the time we met up with him again, he was a changed man. Matt: Yeah. Well, he was still struggling. He didn't know who he was, and at a certain point, your guys' interaction kind of showed him that he could be better, and he was struggling with the-- with being convinced that it was too late for him. And so it was this idea of like, "I've already fucked up my entire life, and I didn't realize it until I found people that actually cared to look past my position and my abilities." And he'd been a solitary figure his whole life except for his relationship with his brother. He didn't get along with his parents. He didn't get along with most people in the Dynasty unless they helped him maintain and advance his position of power and influence, and so you guys fucked him up. ... ... a large part of his early times was just trying to deflect and misdirect and like, "Don't look at me. I'm just here. Just here paying attention. I got nothing to do with any of this. That's weird, huh?" Then the more you got to know him, he eventually let that fall away. Yeah, I was not expecting any of that.
That's all the stuff from the wrap up specifically on Essek's intentions with the Nein. (I trimmed a bit about consecution since it's not directly relevant to this topic.) Note that, among all the things Matt said, he didn't write off any particular option that would have been available to Essek, but at the first interaction, he knew he needed to keep the Nein close. However, close doesn't necessarily mean friendship, and considering his position, experience, and cold attitude, Essek probably intended to foster a more formal and politically-minded relationship from the start.
Rather than restate everything from my earlier post that I should have finessed, the part that I really should have fleshed out was this:
Regardless of which situation this is, the best outcome for Essek would be neutralizing the interlopers before they come upon, intentionally or not, his involvement in the theft of the beacons.
By neutralizing, I meant specifically making sure that the Nein were no longer a threat, not necessarily killing them. That could have been sabotaging their status as Heroes of the Dynasty, distracting them, getting them out of the Dynasty permanently, setting up a scapegoat, or any other option of ensuring that these specific people--who somehow obtained a beacon he stole and returned it--would not further jeopardize his situation.
Still, the rest of my post focused on why and how killing them--specifically, setting up the Scourger to attempt to kill Caleb--would have been possible and even likely because the history of the posts I had been responding to were questions about why and how I thought he would. Unfortunately, I got so wrapped up that I failed to notice some (though not all) of my language dipped into sounding like I thought that was his plan all along.
No! I thought that was one of many potential moves Essek was arranging as an attempt to keep the Nein off his trail without losing control of their presence in the Dynasty. As their liaison, they went to him for help and advice even though they clearly didn't trust him. He had a position of power over them and used it well. He racked up favors so he'd have some leverage to pressure them if he so chose. He directed them to Waccoh, who had nothing to do with the beacons and would certainly request things of them that would help the war effort because her job was designing war machines. He encouraged them to investigate the Angel of Irons because that wasn't related to the Beacons either. Neither was their quest to the forge in Caduceus' s dream in the Flotket Alps nor the trip to Mythburrow.
You want to risk traveling to Bazzoxan and didn't even ask me to teleport you to save time or avoid risk? EXCELLENT, have fun on the death trip, make me proud! You want to go investigate a volcano in bum fuck elsewhere? EXCELLENT, have fun maybe freezing or burning to death. You want to find a dragon? EXCELLENT, have fun maybe getting eaten and/or frozen. You want to talk to the Scourger that hates you? EXCELLENT, gimme some time, I need to get that bitch a shank.
I'm sure that every time the Nein went off on a dangerous mission that had nothing to do with the beacons, Essek was relieved and hoped that some of them would die along the way. It was a temporary distraction and hopefully a permanent solution.
And it wasn't until episode 77, right before Essek escorted the Nein to see the Scourger again, that Essek told the Nein that the Bright Queen wants them to find the other beacon in the Empire. Whether you agree with me or not that Essek arranged for the Scourger to have the shiv, at that point, the risk the Nein posed to Essek had risen greatly when she made that decision. That mission inherently carried risk that they would learn about what he had done because it necessitated investigating the Cerberus Assembly. Time and time again, they had demonstrated their skills by doing all these missions in the Dynasty. We don't know exactly when the Bright Queen told Essek her wish, but considering the timing, it wouldn't surprise me if that was one of the reasons that Essek shifted from hands-off options to setting up a potential assassination.
All that is to say that I don't interpret Matt's exposition in the Wrap-Up as Essek wanting to be friends with the Nein. I interpret it as attempting to keep them from fucking him up, and as much as Essek makes a turn around in Eiselcross, he got the title of Shadowhand and the Bright Queen's trust for a reason. He was evil for a reason. And that would include the willingness to risk someone else's life for his own sake.
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Never mind how much a book is worth to you; how much is an author worth to you?
After all, a book is only a shaving off a tree, or a little blip of electricity. An author, on the other hand, is a living being who needs not only reviews and sales, but also coffee (or in my case tea), food, electricity, and occasionally a new laptop. My wife bought me a keyboard that feels and sounds just like a typewriter: It brings me great joy, but also cost about a month's worth of book sales.
Not that it was expensive, I just don't sell that many books.
Desks, computers, chairs, swords ... writing can be expensive.
How much a reader should pay for a book is a question that's been debated since Gutenberg bought too much ink and ran his first Black Friday sale. Among other things, it depends on your level of fame. The ebook edition of Stephen King's newest book is priced at $14.99, more than some of my print books. Our traditional publisher has our photo-heavy history book Images of America: Albion and Noble County priced at $12.99 as an ebook, and another publisher has my romantic comedy Radio Red at $3.99.
Guess how many books King sells, compared to me? Yep: The answer is "lots".
We do better with our self-published books, which run from 99 cents to $2.99 as ebooks. Fun fact: Some readers refuse to buy 99 cent books, assuming at that price they can't be any good. This assumption is both foolish and wrong. I suspect that price is often an act of desperation by good writers.
On the other end of it, Hoosier Hysterical has lots of pictures, and we can't sell it at less than $2.99 without losing money. That's the best we can do without just giving it away. Hold that thought.
No matter what the price, it's hard for lesser known authors to get into brick and mortar stores.
So, ten or twelve bucks for an electronic book. Crazy expensive, right? I mean, we don't have to pay for paper, ink, shipping ... how greedy can we be?
But how much is an author worth?
Three times I've written the rough draft of a book in thirty days. That's great, but it took a few weeks to prepare for the writing, then a month or two after to revise it before the story was decent enough for my wife to read. Then there's the revision after she returns it to me. The month of actual writing, when I push it hard, consists of working my full time job, writing, eating while writing, and nothing else. Some people can get books out the door faster, but I have to think they don't have full time jobs.
The old joke: An author can't make enough money to write full time until he's written and sold enough books, which he can't do until he writes full time.
So it goes.
So, a dollar for something it took me at least three months to produce, not including all the time spent on promotion and advertising? Writers are worth more than that. Even me.
Which brings us to giving books away for free.
Some authors swear that giving their ebooks away gets them so much attention that people come back and buy their other books, thus advancing their career in the long run. That seems to work for them, but it's not been my experience. Just the same, every July for the last few years I've entered the one novel I have up on Smashwords, Coming Attractions, into the Smashwords Summer/Winter sale.
Has it resulted in more readers for the other books? Not that I've noticed. It doesn't even lead to that many readers picking it up for free. Smashwords has a lot of authors, so my deal has to fight for attention with all those other deals. On the other hand, my sales aren't great in July to begin with, and it doesn't seem to be doing me any harm, either.
I'm curious how you, both the reader and the writer, feel on the subject. Maybe I'll try other giveaways at some point, even though I don't think authors should have to do that. I also don't think authors should have to spend so much time promoting and advertising, but welcome to the real world. How do you feel on the subject?
Oh, and Coming Attractions is free here:
But you already knew that.
Summer themed. Well, kinda.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
Substack: https://substack.com/@markrhunter
Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914
Remember: Every time you get a book for free, it counts as a free book.
#writing#books#humor#summer#sale#coming attractions#smashwords#free ebook#free ebooks#freebies#authors#author#writer#book writing#publishing#book sale#writer's life#writers community
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Pokéchronology, Volume II
-~+*◇ Crystal ◇*+~-
Day 3
Welcome back. It's been a while.
Between working on my retro gaming setup, life obligations, and just not being in the mood to play Pokémon, it's taken me a long time to get back to these posts. But I've managed to get a lot of that sorted, so hopefully I'll be able to post more often again.
I now have a pretty good setup for playing my Game Boy games, using the Game Boy Player and homebrew software. Still needs some tweaking, but it's hard to complain about crisp 1:1 pixels and playing on a TV as opposed to the minuscule and cramped Game Boy Advance SP.
Well, let's get going then. I strongly advise against proceeding if you don't want spoilers for Pokémon Crystal.
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Ilex Forest
Where to next... I guess I should see if I can teach one of my Pokémon the move Cut somehow, since I can't see any way forward without it. I'll pay a visit to that guy in Azalea whose Farfetch'd knows the move.
I find out he's gone into Ilex Forest, so it looks like I'll have to track him down. But just as I'm about to enter, I get accosted by the eternal douchelord himself, Silver. Prick wants another battle. Fine, I'll kick his ass, if he insists.
His first Pokémon is a Gastly. Where the hell did he get a Gastly? Well, it's Poison-type, so I have Sara Mud-Slap it until it faints. Out comes Croconaw. I get Sara out of there ASAP and send in Billiam to take care of him. He's pretty tough, but I got lucky and managed to take him down with just two Vine Whips. Lastly, there's Zubat, who I decided to take on with Pepper. Two Embers and a lucky Burn later, I win the battle.
Silver just complains that he lost, calls his Pokémon useless, like that'll help... Dude's got some extreme hate for "weakness," as he put it. He must really hate himself too, then. He says he's going to wipe out Team Rocket and runs off.
Well, would you look at that. Something we have in common. You're still trash, buddy, but at least we agree on something.
Moving along, I get deeper into the forest and find out that Farfetch'd is being a little brat. Okay, so it's up to me to chase it around until it runs back to its trainer. No problem, just wish these Bug Pokémon weren't falling on me constantly.
As a reward for my efforts, I receive the HM for Cut, and the means to proceed through Ilex Forest to the next route. Decided Sara was the one to wield it, and before moving forward, I backtrack to check out an area I couldn't access before. Ended up scoring a free TM, nice. It's Roar though, doesn't seem too useful.
Now I'm free to explore Ilex Forest. I get another TM there for the move Headbutt. Apparently it's useful for making things fall out of trees? I dunno, I tried it and it doesn't seem to work. Maybe I'll keep an eye out for trees that look especially sus. Come to think of it, there was that shrine back near the start of the forest... I wonder... Uh, I probably shouldn't do that.
Heard about some bug-catching competition that was going on as well, in the National Park. Sounds kinda lame, but I guess I'll check it out if I happen to be nearby.
Goldenrod City
After exiting Ilex Forest, it's just a short trek up through Route 34 to Goldenrod City. Along the way there's the Pokémon Day Care. Seems like a good idea to leave a couple of my Pokémon here, so I have them take care of Winona and Jellylord for a while. I also get an egg out of the deal. I wonder what it'll be this time?
Finally I get into Goldenrod City proper. Now this is where it's at. Big city, tons to do, this is exactly the kind of place I've been wanting to go to this whole time.
There's a huge department store here that sells pretty much everything. They've even got TMs, some of which seem pretty good, but I don't buy anything except for a few status heals and potions. I'll have to remember those TMs in case I need them later.
In another building, there's a bike store. The owner was kind enough to lend me one of his bicycles if I helped promote his shop by riding it around everywhere. Sounds good to me.
Game Corner, huh... I'm not really into gambling, but maybe I'll check the place out if I happen to get one of those Coin Cases. You'd think they'd sell them to, y'know, promote their business. But nah, for some reason they just don't. I heard somebody lost a Coin Case in the "Underground," I'll see if I can find it.
Popping into some of the houses, I encountered someone who gave me yet another free TM. What is this, TM Tuesday? Rollout at least seems kind of interesting.
At the north end of Goldenrod is the entrance to Route 35. I noticed there's a gym here, apparently led by Whitney, the "Incredibly Pretty Girl." Methinks someone is a little full of herself. I'll come back to challenge her later.
The trainers on Route 35 are actually really strong. Those Magmar are nothing to scoff at, which is to say nothing of the rest... I had to make multiple trips back to the Pokémon Center because my team was just getting beat up that badly. One girl had the most OBNOXIOUS Pikachu in existence, who just spams Double Team to max out their evasion, then beats you up while you struggle to land an attack.
National Park
This must be where that Bug-catching competition is. Sure, why not. I'll join. I just have to catch the strongest Bug Pokémon I can find, right? Well I got thrown in there with only Yoshino to protect me because for some reason I'm only allowed one Pokémon and she was in the lead at the time.
I have a look around and eventually I settle on a Beedrill. Seems like a good candidate to win, I mean it's fully evolved and everything, so why not? But in the end I only placed 3rd. The first and second place competitors both caught Pinsir, which I'm guessing is rarer and harder to catch. Oh well, I got a Gold Berry at least.
After getting the rest of the team back I poke around in the National Park some more, fighting some trainers and catching a few Pokémon. The Beedrill I caught for the competition I called MBDB for... reasons. Got a Spinarak that I called Arakattack, a Venonat I called Veebo, and a Hoothoot who I named Sagea. I also pick up yet another TM from one of the people here: Sweet Scent.
Goldenrod Gym
Alright, I think I've had enough of a look around. Better get to challenging that gym, I suppose.
So this is the Normal-type gym. Most of the trainers in there aren't really a problem, so I'm free to simply battle my way through to the end where I face Whitney.
She only has two Pokémon? I was kind of expecting more, but whatever. The Clefairy takes a few hits from Pepper to go down, and then it's on to Miltank. It knows Rollout. I didn't realize that was a Rock-type move.
Both Pepper and Pudding are instantly demolished, and Miltank is faster than any of my Pokémon. I basically had no opportunity to deal any damage. Even Sara, who resists Rollout, couldn't survive a hit. Before I knew it, Yoshino was all I had left. I tried Confusing Miltank, but it didn't work out.
My entire team, swept by one move. I am completely dumbfounded by what just happened. I just left the gym after that, still in disbelief.
Goldenrod Gym, Round Two
I ended up at the Game Corner, whiling away my time, trying out the games, not having any luck. Contemplating what I should do, having suffered such a brutal defeat. Eventually, a thought came to me. I remembered the guy in the department store who wanted an Abra.
And it just so happened that I knew where I could catch one.
With some effort and a lot of searching, I managed to catch one on Route 34. Caught a couple other Pokémon as well: Yowsie the Drowzee and Tuffguy the Jigglypuff. Then I traded Abra for the Machop named Muscles.
Muscles will go on to crush Whitney for me, but first I think he needs a little training. I head back to the National Park to level him up a bit, and also grab a Psyduck while I'm there. She gets named Sally.
A bit of intense training later, and Muscles is level 15 with Karate Chop and a Gold Berry, ready to go. It's time for round two with Whitney. Now it's my turn to sweep her entire team with one move.
So I did.
And... she cries like a little bitch. God damn it, really? I don't even know what to say, this is just pathetic. I just wait for her to pull herself together so she can give me the Plainbadge and the TM for Attract and I can be on my way.
What a bizarre experience that was. I can't believe this Whitney girl is who I owe my first defeat to. Just... the way she acts after defeating me once, before I come back and beat her effortlessly. I expected surprise, something resembling the behavior of a gym leader, at least. What I got instead was a total breakdown and being called a meanie for winning a Pokémon battle.
Are any of these gym leaders serious? Bugsy was alright, but so far they seem to just be a bunch of snotty brats who have no idea what they're doing. This was way too weird and jarring, I'm gonna have to sleep this one off.
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That's all for Pokéchronology today. I'm still trying to decide if I like this style of writing or if it's just cringe and silly. It does limit the way I'm able to write, in a way, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. I'm a big believer in the idea that restrictions breed creativity.
My thoughts on Pokémon Crystal have developed a bit, and unfortunately that means I'm starting to see its flaws. The limited space for phone numbers on the Pokégear really kinda sucks. I'm also disappointed at the relative lack of new Pokémon.
They've been showing up, of course, but a ton of the Pokémon you encounter are from Generation I, which makes it feel like you're just replaying that generation sometimes. I'd hoped to see mostly new Pokémon, but it seems that's not something that'll happen for a little while in the series.
Daycare having a PC in it is a massive improvement though. Generation I daycare is so out of the way and cumbersome to use. I might end up using it a bit more in this game.
So, Whitney. I did have a little bit of context going into the battle with her. She's considered one of the hardest gym battles for a casual first-time playthrough, and understandably so. Rollout is Rock-type, which most Pokémon you'll have encountered are weak to or otherwise don't resist it. Its damage effectively doubles every consecutive turn that it hits, so even if you have a Pokémon that resists it, if the damage is ramped up it doesn't matter.
But in the end, Miltank is a one trick cow. Once you know that you're dealing with Rollout, you can easily counter it by using accuracy/evasion strats. Or just bring the trade Machop, Muscles.
I suppose it's to be expected that my first-ever loss in a Pokémon game would be to Whitney. I'm curious what's going to defeat me next.
#pokémon#pokeblogging#classic games#pkmn#long post#rapifessor rambles#game boy#video games#gaming#game boy color#pokemon crystal#pokemon#pokechronology#pokechron#retro gaming
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"Thanks. This might turn out to be pretty easy with the two of us working together!" It's not an arrangement that Steven would typically recommend, just because it doubles the potential casualties of any given shift, but Michael knows what he's doing. With both of them staying alert for movement and uninvited visitors, their chances of survival have probably gone up significantly. ...if only the company would actually pay for regularly scheduled shared shifts like these.
"Wh-- are you sure?" Steven blinks, surprised both by Mike's decision and how insistent he seems on sticking to it. Bell still feels a little selfish when he sits back down, but he can't help but admit to himself that it's nice to be off his feet.
"...alright, we'll see. You just tell me the moment you want to switch or stretch your legs."
Steven chews at his lip as he pulls up the Show Stage camera feed, immediately turning off the monitor again once he sees all three familiar forms standing in position. It's become habit at this point to treat every night like his last, even if he knows from experience that the animatronics go easy on him early in the week. One never knows when these old systems will give out and start draining power more quickly than expected, or when the 'bots will act out of character due to some new malfunction or bug. Always smart to play things safe.
"Yep, all good." He hasn't checked on Foxy, but he doesn't need to; despite the pirate's twitchy nature, he's the one Steve trusts the most to behave himself. Foxy won't be an issue for a while yet, as long as Bell doesn't forget to glance at the cameras every now and then.
"What do you mean, 'why'? ...oh. Uh. ...huh." That's actually a really good question. "I think it's just a policy they kept from the old location." Except if that's the case, why would they make the reasonable decision of turning those protocols off during the day, but continue to allow the machines to roam at night?
"Actually-- you know what, it's probably to make sure they don't break. These things are really advanced-- or, I mean, they were when they came out. Delicate servos, that sort of thing. I think I heard that if part of them stays locked up for too long, it can affect the whole endoskeleton."
He's heard no such thing, but it sounds like it makes sense, and Steven himself is convinced he's gotten that idea from somewhere more credible than his own imagination. As far as he's concerned, one of the technicians probably mentioned it back when he was working with the Toy line, or it was implied when he got trained about the night mode in the first place.
"I don't know. But obviously we still want them to be able to move their arms and everything while they perform, so why risk it, right?"
Having to keep the machines at bay all night isn't exactly the smallest price to pay for their functionality, but it is what it is. At least this arrangement keeps the night guards in a job for as long as they can stand it. Speaking of--
"By the way, I know I said this during your first week, but I really am impressed that you've stuck it out this long, Mike. So many guards just come and go, you know? It's been nice to get to know someone for longer than a day or two." He laughs, propping his elbow on his knee so he can lean forward and continue their conversation at something closer to eye-level.
"You've been holding up okay? They haven't been giving you too much trouble? ...a lot of the nightwatchmen end up hating them in the end, but I think we both know better. They're just, uh... doing what they're doing. It's not their fault, so I appreciate that you're so nice to them. I think it pays off over time."
As Steven talks, Mike takes the time to get settled in his spot in the corner. Shoulder propped up against the locker, he leans his head to the side, the cold metal soothing the slight headache he'd woken with a few hours earlier.
He offers the man a slight smile in response to his assertion, but can't quite find the words to reply. The guy wasn't wrong, per se, but... Mike highly doubted he knew what he was talking about. The sentiment was appreciated nonetheless.
The news about Bonnie brings a furrow to his brow and prompts him to squint out the door in the direction of the stage. He can't make out the forms of the animatronics from here – the angle isn't quite right – but at least he has a pretty clear view all the way to the end of the hall. From here, he should have a decent bit of warning if anyone's coming. "Yeah, he's... Stubborn like that. I can — I'll try to keep an eye on him from here."
Mouth preoccupied with taking a sip of his coffee when Steven starts trying to coax him up off the floor, he waves the man off.
"Nope — no, absolutely not. You sit back down." A little bit aggressive, but clearly that was the only way to get it through Steven's head that he wasn't just saying things to be nice. That he actually meant what he said. "I just barged into your office, in the middle of your shift, and I'm not gonna steal your chair too. I'm just fine right where I'm at. Promise." Plus, he wasn't the one out of the two of them who'd just finished a full shift a couple hours ago. Steven deserved his rest.
Besides, he'd picked this spot for a reason. If Foxy came storming down the hall, this angle could afford him a precious few more seconds of reaction time before he reached the door. At least, this way, Steven would have one less thing to worry about tonight. Michael wasn't here just to be a distraction, after all. He could help.
More than anything, he found he wanted to help. Enough people had gotten hurt because of this franchise, and he really didn't want the other guard, his friend – his mentor, really, the only reason he knew how to survive here – to be the next name added to the list.
Really, if he could've convinced the guy to quit, he would've done it weeks ago, but that would've been awfully hypocritical of him. They both know what it's like to be stuck in a place like this. Any decisions on the matter of self-preservation, of finding alternative employment... They had to be Steven's own. All Michael could do until then was his best. His best to keep the guy safe. His best to figure out exactly what was going on here, at this location. His best to make up for his father's actions — to free the kids' souls. He just hoped Steven would be out by then. He couldn't — nobody else needed to be tangled up in this mess.
Luckily for Michael, the other guard was sufficiently distracted by the clock striking midnight. He hadn't even noticed as Mike's mind had started to wander — too busy keeping track of the animatronics to notice how quiet he'd gone. Saved by the bell, he supposed.
"Everyone in their proper places?" he asks, shaking off the worry that had clouded his thoughts. No time for that, now. He needed to be thinking like he was on the clock, because he pretty much was. No more zoning out. Not for the next six hours, at least.
... Of course, that lasts all of about three minutes before one of the stupid questions he'd always had during his shifts but never had anyone to ask pops into his head.
"Hey. So, I know you said they're put in, like, a free roaming mode to keep their servos from locking up or whatever, but, like... Why? They never even leave their stages during the day. Why would it matter if they couldn't free-roam? They literally don't move, normally. Why do we care about the servos in their legs working. Most animatronics are bolted to the floor, anyway."
Considering the fact that Michael's the kid of the guy who started the company in the first place, he knows why the animatronics used to free-roam. First it was the springlock suits, which meant they were walking around with people in them, and then the older models, and the Toys, but after the Bite, they removed the daytime free-roam protocols... So why leave them on at night?
Sure, a lot of the nighttime movement wasn't because of the bots' programming – thanks, kiddos – but if they were, as he'd said, bolted to the fucking floor ... he thinks a lot of things would be a whole lot safer for a select few people. Cough cough, them and the rest of the night-guards. And probably the maintenance techs, too, now that he thinks about it.
It's not really a serious question. But it's not not a serious question. He really does want to hear Steven's opinion on the matter — or at least hear how he tries to rationalize it all. Because he highly doubts Steven knows about the robots being haunted.
#LOVE THAT FOR HIMMM AHHAA#THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY. S.TEVE HAS NEVER ONCE CONSIDERED THAT#s.teve making shit up: i believe this <3#also i stuck that f.oxy bit in there if we want later Animatronic Action#as EITHER s.teve being accurate about his behavior OR s.teve being overly trusting of his little kitty meow meow so they can#get jumpscared while m.ike's there to save the day etc#nineliabilityrisk 2
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Familiar
Spence and reader claim to hate each other but he secretly buys and sprays readers perfume on his pillow because it’s the only way he can get to sleep after meeting her. Reader sees her perfume in his satchel or suitcase when they unexpectedly have to share a hotel room for a case and maybe a confession or just good ole “hate sex”
Summary: Spencer’s secret way to sleep is revealed in a moment of upset
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst then fluff)
Content Warning: nothing
Word Count: 1.2k
Masterlist | Navigation
Spencer Reid is an arrogant ass. That's the first thing Y/n had learned about him when he couldn't even be bothered to get to the office in time for her introduction. It might have been petty but it was one of the most excitement filled days of her life, and she thought the team would share her joy like they had done for Kate Callahan, her mentor.
With Tara, Y/n joined the team after JJ went on maternity leave and Kate quit to have time with her baby.
Hotch took a quick liking to her, but he was pretty easy to win over with a few compliments about the art in his office done by his son and neat handwriting on her reports- something Spencer didn't have. Rossi, too, was easy, impressed by the brilliant new agents wit and observation. Tara and Y/n became fast friends, joining the team at the same time, and being the only women in the field with the team. Penelope loves everyone, and although she misses JJ and Kate, she's gotten much better at letting people in, especially after Y/n complimented her mermaid pen. Morgan took to flirting with her fast than he did anyone else, and he enjoyed her flirting back.
But Spencer... they just didn't click. A bad first impression led to some miscommunications and they were quickly enemies. He didn't do as well as she did at keeping things civil, and had been called out on his behavior by their unit chief more than once.
His mean streak is showing on a case in Massachuttes. Whether it's how cold it was or the complexity of the case, something has him tightly wound.
"We think the unsub's ritualistic behavior is because-"
Spencer cuts her off before she can continue explaining part of the profile to the local police department. "Agent L/n is wrong. It's too early to speculate on the unique signature."
He doesn't even look as she shoots him a glare, or Hotch's that matches her's in terms of anger.
Unsurprisingly, Hotch discretly drags them both into the conference room they're using, sending Tara back to the ME with some follow-up questions, and Rossi and Morgan to get dinner.
"This needs to stop." Hotch tells them sternly. Y/n wants to die hearing his authoritative tone. It's worse than being in the Principal's office. "There's no room on this team for whatever problem you two have with each other. We need to be able to function effectively as a unit."
She sinks further down in her chair, knowing that the team worked perfectly without her. It's not an easy connection to make that she's the expendable one. They'll be able to find another ambitious, young women wanting to advance her career.
"Sorry, sir." She says, biting her bottom lip in shame.
Hotch isn't as mad at her as he is at Spencer, and it shows in the slightly softened look he sends her way before looking back at Spencer. "Reid, I will not have you interrupting another agent like that. Is that clear?"
"She wasn't even paying attention when we were writing the preliminary profile with Morgan." He claims. She's guessing it's in reference to the inside jokes he wasn't included in. He looked annoyed about it then but his eyes bore into her with fury.
She wants to call bullshit on his accusation and hope it helps the churning feeling in her stomach, but she doesn't get a chance before Hotch snaps at him "Get it together, or you can go back to the hotel."
Although she wants to, Y/n refrains from laughing when she guesses Jack gets a similar- but much softer- punishment, probably having to pick between fixing his attitude or going to his room when he misbehaves.
Spencer doesn't look regretful, but he shuts his mouth and listens to Hotch's next instruction. "L/n, we're going to the dump site, I think we missed something. Reid, look through the video sent to the police of the first murder. Try and focus on the location."
She's grateful Hotch decided to split them up, but it's still a little awkward to be going with him after getting in trouble. She doesn't look at Spencer as she leaves, following her boss to the car.
"He was wrong for interrupting you," Hotch tells her when they're in the SUV.
She shakes her head. "I get it. I'm new on the team. My opinions don't have as much weight."
"They do to me." He assures her. "And everyone else."
That's all he says on the topic, and she's not about to gossip to her unit chief about how much she hates her colleague so the conversation ends, and they go about collecting information to catch the unsub.
Hotch tells her to call Penelope for some more information about the town's history. It's what Penelope says after giving her the information that raises her eyebrows. "How's my boy?"
"Morgan?" Y/n clarifies.
"Reid." Penelope corrects.
She's too mad at Spencer not to take the opportunity to complain about him. "An asshole. He cut me off while we were giving the profile."
She sighs, tapping the end of her pen against the desk. "I can't... he's had some bad things happen." Penelope starts, trying to be careful not to tell her too much of Spencer's secret. "And today's the anniversary of one of them."
Y/n isn't a monster, of course she feels bad for him. She hasn't looked at any of the team's files, knowing they're more than their worst moments.
"I'm not making excuses." Penelope assures her. "He just- it's not an easy day."
"Thanks for telling me." Y/n says. "And I won't tell him you said anything."
"Thank you, girl wonder. Now go catch that bad guy!" She's back to her cheery tone with her farewell, and it comforts Y/n.
After an ultimately uneventful takedown, they're going to the hotel after a long few days, and Y/n finally feels like she can put the whole day behind her. When Hotch hands out room keys, she realizes there's another problem. A problem that she really doesn't want to face at 11pm: she and Spencer are roommates.
He looks more annoyed about it than she feels, which only helps in making her feel more annoyed. It's an endless cycle.
In his first non-asshole move of the day, Spencer holds the door open for her, letting her into the room first. She groans when there's only one bed, although it's what she expected.
"Don't want to share with me, L/n?" Spencer asks, sounding unbothered.
His teasing tone catches her off guard. She supposes it's the lack of sleep that's making him delirious. "No, I'm okay." She squeaks. "You can shower first."
He heads to the bathroom after taking some shorts and a shirt out of his bag, leaving it sitting on the chair. She finally relaxes a little when the water turns on, scrolling through her phone to catch up on everything she missed.
Spencer's phone starts buzzing in his bag. She's torn between going through his stuff to get it and leaving it alone. Curiosity- which she would disguise as concern if asked- gets the better of her and she rummages through his stuff to find it.
The phone stops ringing by the time she pulls it out, only a number appearing on the screen with missed call. What she touches next to the phone is a perfume bottle. More correctly, it's her perfume. Not her bottle, but an identical replica.
Her mind searches for an answer about why he would have that, and she comes up with nothing. Surely he didn't get it because she has it... did he?
She's too wrapped up in what she's seeing to have noticed the water turn off and Spencer walk back into the room. She almost drops the bottle when he clears his throat.
"Sorry- sorry, I didn't mean to go through your stuff." She quickly apologizes in a panic, putting it back in the bag and handing him his phone. "It was, uh, buzzing."
"Thanks." He says, not even bothering to look at the number. He knows who it is. She can't even look at him, wanting to run away, but his tone tells her that he's not angry at her. "You saw it, huh?"
She looks up at him when she's back sitting on her side of the bed, a safe distance away from him. "I swear I wasn't snooping." She assures him.
"Otherwise, you might be weirded out that I have a bottle of your perfume." He says lightheartedly.
"Can I ask why?" She asks, although she's unsure if it's a question she wants to be answered.
Spencer sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed, close enough that her breath hitches. "You were wearing this the first time I met you."
"I know that." She cuts in to remind him. "I wear it every day. It's my perfume. I want to know why you have it. Is it something creepy?"
"Depends on what you consider creepy." He jokes again, cringing at himself. He's never good in awkward situations, especially when it's her that he's talking to. "I have it because it's the only way I can sleep."
Y/n frowns, still struggling to put it together. "You can only sleep if you can smell my perfume?"
"Basically." He answers unhelpfully.
She shakes her head. "No. No, that's not right. You don't like me. Why would you need your bedroom to smell like me?"
"You remind me of someone. A scary amount." He tells her.
She laughs humorlessly. "Someone you hate?"
His expected affirmative answer doesn't come. "Someone I love."
He's making her heart do weird things it's never done before, and she can't seem to breathe properly around him anymore. "That's... I don't get it."
Spencer takes a deep breath before he launches into his story, his eyes never leaving hers. "Maeve was killed three years ago today in front of me. She was kind of the first girlfriend I had." Y/n nods, prompting him to continue while she takes in the load of personal information she wasn't expecting to get from him. "She was witty, kind, and so intelligent. And all of that reminds me a lot of you."
Her heart skips a beat, and she's sure her mouth is wide open. "I'm so sorry." She says. "That's horrible."
"It was." He agrees. "And it taught me a lot. One of the things I'm still learning is to tell people they're important to me when I have a chance."
"Is that what you're doing?" She asks softly like she can't really believe it's true.
He nods. "I'm trying. Y/n L/n, you're incredibly important to me, and I'm sorry I've been acting like you aren't."
"I get it now." She assures him, moving forward so she's sitting next to him. "I mean, I wish you told me sooner, but I can live with the fact you didn't."
"Thank you," Spencer says. "And I'm sorry if I weirded you out by carrying around your perfume. You're just relaxing to be around. It’s olfactory-”
She cuts him off. “Spencer?” He stops talking, looking for her input. “Shut up.”
He gulps when she leans forward, an inch away from his lips but he easily closes the gap to kiss her when his brain catches up. Her lips taste like her perfume in a non chemically way. More because it’s a relaxing, familiar feeling, even though he’s never kissed her before. He cups her cheek to kiss her more firmly, making sure she was actually there.
“I really like you.” He tells her when he pulls back. “Romantically.”
She laughs lightly. “Yeah, I got that. What are we going to do about it?”
“When we’re back in DC, I could take you out.” He offers, although he says it with too much enthusiasm for it to be casual.
“I’d like that.” She agrees. “A lot.” Maybe Spencer isn’t arrogant after all. Maybe he’s closer to learning how to tell people they’re important than he thought he was.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid x you#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds oneshot#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic
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delicate; b.barnes
chapter eight - “hovel, sweet hovel”
delicate masterlist
word count: 2k
synopsis: bucky and y/n arrive the shelter and take a look at what it has to offer.
pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader
[A/N]: what would you like to see happen next? let me know! (p.s. this is what i pictured the shelter/hovel to look like)
"I think this is it," Bucky said, looking forward at the structure in front of them.
"That's the 'shelter?'" Y/N huffed, hopelessly annoyed.
They had been walking and jogging on and off for forty-five minutes straight. Her feet killed.
"We're... gonna die."
"We are not gonna die, Y/N."
"Look at it! That is a hovel!"
"Well, inside's better than outside," Bucky retorted. "At least no one will see us if we're in there. It looks abandoned, they'll assume it actually is.”
She sighed and followed behind Bucky into the shelter. It was a one story stone structure that looked so old and weathered. It... looked like a shed. An old ass stone shed. She briefly wondered if Wakanda had a storm season because she was almost certain this thing wouldn't withstand it.
The door let out an anticipated squeak, and she was just as disappointed to see the inside as she was the outside. Bucky put the bags down and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Yeah... this... isn't great..."
It was just as small as it seemed. And empty. Mostly. There were a few withered shelves with dusty pots and bowls, and an even more withered attempt at a table. There was what looked like a furnace in one corner with old, rotted wood in it. The wooden floor creaked under their steps.
The whole place felt like a ghost: desolate, ancient, and lonely. Except for one peculiar thing...
"Bucky?" she beckoned.
"Hm?"
(Y/N) hadn't noticed it when she first entered, but in the middle of the table sat a small, shiny, black panther figurine. It posed on all fours, looking ferociously up at her. It looked so out of place in contrast of the eternal layer of dust on everything else.
"What is this?" she asked reaching for the one thing that didn't match.
When her hand wrapped around it, energy surged into her skin. It felt almost... alive.
"(Y/N) what-" Bucky was cut off by a sound that startled them both.
In the corner across from the furnace, a section of the floor starting moving. Wood on wood on stone was not a good sound. Nonetheless, in mere seconds, there was an opening, and if (Y/N) leaned forward, she could see stairs!
Both of them remained still, feet planted on the creaky floor. They immediately looked at each other.
"What did you do?"
"I'm... not sure. I think I opened it."
(Y/N) smirked.
"What?" Bucky asked, confusion clearly evident in his tone.
"I should've known," (Y/N) shook her head. "Shuri wouldn't have led us here unless there was something more."
She held the panther figurine as she walked towards the opening.
"Wait," he grabbed her arm. "We don't know that Shuri knew that was here. What if it's a trap?"
"A trap from who? I don't think anyone knows we're here except Shuri."
"I don't know. J-Just let me go first."
"Alright. After you, oh wise one," she acquiesced, voice sarcastic but endearing all the same.
Bucky tried to suppress a chuckle. "Smartass. You're the wise one."
She tried to go down the stairs, letting him go first, but apparently that wasn't enough.
"Wait, just let me go look around and I'll holler when it's all good."
"Holler? Who says holler?"
"Me. Wait here."
"Fine," she made a show of pointedly plopping down on the top step, still and waiting as he requested.
It only took about ten seconds.
"Woah..." his voice came from far away.
"What is it?!" (Y/N) leaned forward.
"You were right! Come down, you gotta see this!"
She wasted no time... and standing beside Bucky, her jaw dropped.
"Holy..."
Beneath the ground was a significantly larger, way more modernized, and highly advanced survival shelter. All equipped with smaller versions of a table, chairs, and cabinets, along with a compact freezer and miniature stove, a chest, a closet, and two sets of bunk beds. Everything was clean and looked in optimal condition. There was even a rug.
"Shuri definitely didn’t leave you with nothing," Bucky commented, still taking it all in.
"-us with nothing," she corrected, retreating back up to the shed to get the bags.
-
Later in the day, (Y/N) got a handle on the panther key and how to use it to open and close the entryway to the bunker. Once she figured it out, she kept it closed, ensuring their concealment and maximizing their safety.
Bucky had found his way into the closet, listing off the contents to (Y/N) who sat on the floor, back up against one of the bunk bed legs. She was exhausted. Her body had been assaulted by adrenaline and strenuous mortal-danger-physical-activity. Bucky seemed to be fine, though. Curse that super soldier serum. His energy was always so high.
"...oh, and here's the bedding stuff. I don't know what this is, though."
(Y/N) lethargically leaned her head over to get a good view of the closet.
She chuckled. "That's a space heater...Oh! And next to it - that's a portable AC. Makes sense. I doubt they could get electric or plumbing out here."
And her head rolled back to center, eyes closing, body exhausted.
Bucky seemed to notice. "Hey, if you're tired, I can make the beds...or at least yours if you wanna sleep now."
(Y/N) stretched her legs straight out in front of her. "No, that's okay."
She wasn't about to force her one armed friend to make a bed for her. That's just rude. Especially after he carried those bags. She felt bad; she wished she had done more.
"Nah, I don't mind. It's not like I got anything else to do," he insisted, bringing the bedding over.
(Y/N) stood, body internally complaining in aching protest. She didn't really have the energy to expertly persuade him.
"Buck, it's fine." Her voice was faint.
He didn't even stop to hesitate, seemingly determined on the task. She thought it better to just give up and let him do his thing since he was so set on it. However, the sheet was fitted and there were pillow cases, not really one-arm friendly assets. He was struggling... very clearly. (Y/N) felt even worse.
He started moving quicker, frustration jerking his arm in quick, irritated bursts as he was trying to get the sheet to stay. There was still no success.
She stepped forward gently. "Bucky..."
"Damn it!" he hissed, slamming his hand on the bed frame before forcefully standing up. His hand went to his forehead, rubbing his eyes in disappointment.
(Y/N) was a statue. She had never seen him mad before; she had no idea what to do. Don't get her wrong, she wasn't scared, she just wasn't sure what to say.
"Can't fuckin' do anything," he muttered under his breath.
She finally moved forward. "Hey, forget the bedding, it doesn't matter-"
"Yes it does," he turned. "We're hiding from a collapsed regime and I can't even make a damn bed. Plus you've done so much for me, I just wanted to help with something. I just wanted to be able to do something."
Oh. Suddenly, his anger was gone. It was replaced with a miserable helplessness. It made her chest tight; she needed to fix this.
"Buck, you don't owe me anything. I'm here because I wanted to help, not because I was expecting anything in return. And I don't know what you've been paying attention to, but I watched you carry the majority of those - heavy - bags the entire way here while simultaneously figuring out the way to the shelter while my brain was momentarily smooth. You were the voice of reason in that chaos we just escaped from, and it's a damn good thing you were so calm because I don't know if I could have handled the panic of the both of us."
"You could've," he murmured. "And I wasn't calm, I'm just used to this. I was trained for situations like this."
No, she wasn't going to lose to deflection.
"Regardless, you were a huge help. Seriously."
He still didn't look convinced.
"In fact, I feel more safe here with you than I would with Shuri and the Queen. You're like a super soldier body guard."
A look washed over his face that (Y/N) couldn't quite place. He looked at her quizzically, like he was trying to figure something out.
"You... feel safer with me?"
"That's what I said, yes."
"You're not like... worried about..."
"The Winter Soldier? No."
He sighed. "How can you be so sure? You have no idea if or when I might... you know."
"We are literally the only people here, and I don't plan on saying the trigger words. So unless you plan on saying them, I don't really think we have anything to worry about. And, even if you did 'you know,' you could definitely get away with it and no one would find the body."
He turned bright red. "What?!"
"I'm kidding! Sorry. But Bucky, you've been doing so well with me and Shuri, and honestly the Hydra programming might not even be there anymore."
"But we don't know for sure!"
"Bucky..." she pleaded, turning her head slightly as to say what is this about?
"I can't trust my own mind," he sighed looking at the floor. "I just don't wanna do anything bad. It's just - weird that you don't seem to be worried at all."
"Why is that?"
"Everyone sees me as a monster."
The room was dead silent. He wasn't looking at her, but if (Y/N) looked at him any harder, she was sure she'd burn a hole through his head. How could anyone see this man as a monster? Logically, she understood what other people saw. But personally, she couldn’t find it in her to perceive him like that. It just didn’t work. All she could find was gentleness, compassion, and sincerity.
"I can't see you as something you're not," she said, whisper soft. "I don't care if you hands are 'scarred from murder' or however you said it a few sessions ago. I trust them entirely."
He finally looked up at her, his face filled with something she couldn't quite place. It looked a bit like disbelief and then it changed into relief and then something else entirely. A slow smile crept up on his lips.
"...hand."
"What?"
"My hand. Singular. Not hands."
A deep, deep smile - to match the one on Bucky - grew on her face just before the pair started cracking up ridiculously. Perhaps this was an odd way of releasing the tension, fear, frustration, and exhaustion of the day. Nevertheless, laughter was cathartic. It was so cathartic that eventually (Y/N) could hardly catch her breath and Bucky's stomach hurt. This went on for several minutes.
In time, they both calmed down. She didn't remember when exactly it happened, but they were both sitting on the floor now. They sat in between the two bunk beds, facing one another, each back leaning against a respective bedpost.
The atmosphere was different now, but not in a bad way. It felt like 2 a.m. at a sleepover, when the conversations get drowsily deep, with slow voices and honest confessions. It was heavy eyelids and low inhibitions.
A fresh wave of exhaustion washed over her. She let her head fall slack against the bedpost, resting.
"Bucky, what were sleepovers like in the forties?" she asked softly, eyes closing ever so delicately.
"Well," he started, getting into a story of his past with Steve and the couch cushions.
And that's how she fell asleep. Sitting on the floor, leaning against a bunk bed, and listening to his voice fade out into the background of her consciousness.
If only she knew how she would wake up: laying comfortably on one of the beds, with one blanket on top of her and another below her because he couldn't get the sheet to cooperate. With the pillowcase carefully draped atop the pillow instead of enveloping it because that's what one hand would allow. With the bed next to her being slept in with no blanket because he used his as the replacement for the sheet he couldn’t get to cooperate.
#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky headcanon#marvel#steve rogers#bucky reader insert#bucky blurb#bucky drabble#bucky fic#marvel fanfiction#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#james bucky barnes
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Ideal No. 10
(1,100 words)
(A/N: IDK why, but for some reason, I feel like this chapter isn't as good as the others. But I hope you like it. I may edit later.)
I leave a bit after Kunikida because I have more work. It will take me only a week to clear my backlog. It makes me wonder why I didn't just do it before, (because I am miserably lazy) but I'm making up for it now.
I'd hoped that this was what it took to get Kunikida's attention, but he was still paying no attention to me. Even when he's been angry at me, he's never just ignored me like that or anyone actually. Politeness is in his ideals. I know I said I wish he'd changed them but not just to cut me out.
Of course, I know I deserve it, he must see that I'm not really trying to change. Still, I must try. If I want to catch his attention, I'll have to do something drastic, but not the type of thing I would've done before.
I'll get his attention with my looks and actions instead of my words. While I shower I imagine I'm drowning and that's when it comes to me.
–
In the morning I head to the supermarket on the way to work. Should I get the same thing as yesterday? Would it make me look consistent and reliable or boring? The options don't matter, it's not as if I'll taste it anyway.
In the end, I settle for a slightly different one and head into work.
–
Kunikida, ever a man of routine, is writing notes on the whiteboard, just as he was yesterday when I came in.
I bow and greet him, smiling to myself at his expression, I put my lunch in the refrigerator.
–
All through the day, I catch him staring at me, but I can't tell if my plan is working or if he just thinks that I'm a complete weirdo.
The others seem to have made peace with it, just as they do my other antics. Secure in the fact that I'll change soon.
It's been a slow week, but we'll have a case soon and we'll have to talk. It fills me with dread and excitement. What sentiment awaits me? What will his first words to me in a week be? Rejection? Or long-awaited acceptance?
–
It's lunchtime now, and we all split up, time for my plan.
I grab my lunch and follow Kunikida to the cafe. Even when I get to his booth, He doesn't look up at me, staring intently at the already-finished document on his laptop. Working through the lunch break, classic Kunikida. Ah, we're so different, how will we ever work? I must be annoying him. I should just go away. I hear Ranpo chuckle, then quiet himself and order a strawberry tart.
"Excuse me, Kunikida-kun."
At this I see his eyes flicker in interest, he seems to mentally debate a moment before he looks up at me. Politeness wins out. Pity. I keep my expression pleasant, it hurts a bit, feeling forced when a frown would be so natural.
"Yes, Dazai." he sounds so annoyed already that it makes me nauseous but ever the annoying fool, doomed to tragedy because he can't take a hint, I press on.
"Would you mind it if I joined you this lunch break?"
He looks up at me, eyes wide, incredulous, as if I've just said the strangest stupidest thing. As if I'm an idiot for assuming he'd ever wish for my company (I probably am). His gaze is like one of the weapons he makes from his notebook, a wire gun stabbing me through the heart. I can barely stand it.
"Ah, never mind. This was rude of me. I can see that you're occupied with work. Goodbye, Kunikida-kun. Enjoy your lunch."
I walk away before I can show any emotion. I see in the reflection of the glass door, Ranpo looking sympathetically after me.
Kunikida must have realised it was an advance, then. It's not as if I should be surprised. It probably never even crossed his mind before, and now I've disgusted him. I'll need to show him I've changed, that I'm not a freak anymore.
I've already tried wearing neater clothes, so the only thing left must be to show that I don't in fact live off convenience store food. His ideals say his woman must be able to cook, or at least love trying new foods. So that is what I will do.
I need to learn my own bentos, pretty like the ones Kouyou used to make for Kyouka, but I can't exactly ask her, I'll need to do this on my own. All alone.
Why is this so exhausting? Why do I feel so heavy when I've barely done anything at all? Am I just such a weak useless person?
Ahh, yes. That's it then.
Tch, I make myself sick.
I don't eat my lunch, I can't make myself. Just looking at the measly salad makes my stomach turn. I almost chuck it in the bin, but then I feel bad about the food waste and leave it in the fridge. I'm sure one of the clerks will take it home. Maybe Atsushi will eat it for a snack (he needs a lot of snacks for his high metabolism.)
–
The afternoon goes by in a blur and I'm more eager than ever to get out of the office (how lazy of me). I walk quickly out of the door, keeping my eyes straight ahead, not looking anywhere near Kunikida.
When I get back to the dorm I spend my evening browsing Youtube cooking tutorials. After the hours of scouring my eyes burn, but I have to get to work right away so I get up, ignoring the tingling from sitting cross-legged for too long, and head out.
I hear Kunikida's voice in the back of my head, right there next to Oda's. "Put on a coat, you'll get sick." "Wear proper clothes, idiot, you're not some street begger!"
I can't stand it. The two people I'll never have. I ignore it, leaving the coat. I'll be warm from walking anyway.
The local market is only a walk across the city. The night is brisk, a nippy sort of chill that wakes you up and clears your head.
An hour later I reach the night market. It's beautiful. Lanterns and flickering neon signs hang everywhere. It's a good thing I have so much money saved up from the Port mafia.
–
By the time I get my groceries home, it's nearly 24:00, but I can tell by the way my limbs buzz that I wouldn't be able to sleep if I tried.
Time to get to work.
IDEALS [kunikidazai]
(A/N: I've been palying around with ship names for these two and came up with Ideal Human because together these two make one perfectly functioning person. Kind of like how Tachizaki is Midwinter Snow because if their abilities)
SUMMARY:
Dazai Osamu is the farthest possible thing from the ideal woman Kunikida Doppo has written so much about in his notebook.
And yet . . . Kunikida is hoplessly in love with him anyway. Kunikida doesn't belive he has a chance with his coworker, I mean, have you seen the way he flirts with women? Straight as the rulers Kunikida used to use in his maths class.
Dazai meanwhile is also inlove with uptight but still charming coworker. But how can Dazai ever come close to the woman Kunikida has in mind?
Will these two damn idiots figure their shit out or not? God, I hope they do, for all our sanity!
(Summary sponsered by Edogawa Ranpo)
Categories: angst, fluff, getting together
Warnings: N/A
Thank you to @wildroseroguefor inspiring me to write Kunikidazai for the first time. Rose has lots of Kunikida content on her blog, check it out.
#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bsd#kunikidazai#kunidazai#Ideal Human#No Longer Ideal#knkdz#kunikidazai fic#kunikidazai fanfiction#kunikidazai fanfic#kunikidazai angst#kunidazai fanfic#kunikidazai fluff#kunidazai fic#kunidazai fanfiction#kunidazai fluff#kunidazai angst
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hiya, mod fuyu !! hope you've been well !! i was wondering if i could rq a fuyuhiko x GN!reader imagine where the reader confesses to fuyu but he rejects them bc he doesn't want them to get hurt or targeted? (since he's a yakuza n stuff-) could end happily or sadly, i am up for both !! thank you so much in advance !! <3
Fuyuhiko rejecting GN!reader to keep them safe
I have been well, thank you! I hope the same for you <3
I actually have an idea for this one cause I was recently talking about this kinda issue with a friend (we were making Love Hotel scenes for the characters in the first 2 games, may or may not post them at some point). I may or may not rewrite it better? I haven’t decided yet, but I probably will.
Another request!!
Category: Angst to fluff imagine
Specifics: GN!reader, takes place in the anime Despair Arc, no Ultimate (reserve course), affiliation- well you’ll see ;)
Warnings: Mentions and vague descriptions of gangs/violence, spoilers for game and anime
When you had figured out you had a crush on a gangster, you knew there were risks.
So you can imagine your own disappointment in yourself when you realized the gangster you liked was the Ultimate Gangster. A Kuzuryu. You fell in love with a Kuzuryu.
But oh lord did you fall deep.
You were already friends with Natsumi, you were used to dealing with the overly aggressive and arrogant front from your brothers. So becoming friends with the girl was easy. Hajime didn’t see how you were able to do such a thing, but appreciated it since it meant he had to break up less fights between her and Sato.
But then there was the day you met the older brother of the (self-proclaimed) Ultimate Little Sister.
The boy hated you at first, especially when he saw what looked to be a gang symbol on that jacket you wore almost all the time. But he mostly hated you due to his overprotective nature of Natsumi. Even though he wouldn’t say it out loud, it was painfully obvious that he was simply looking out for her. You understood, of course. Your own older brother was like that constantly when he was alive. And now that you were the oldest sibling, it was your job to be that way with your other brother.
After a little while though, he learned to not pay much mind when he heard your motorcycle come up to the school. Or when he would see you next to Natsumi. Nor when she would bring you up in conversation like you were the only one she actively hung out with. Through further investigation, he found this was exactly the case. It took longer than he would’ve liked, but he found that Natsumi only had one actual friend. And that was you. That’s when he started to appreciate you a bit.
However, he noticed rather quickly that she only ever used your first name. She never mentioned your last. This made Fuyuhiko suspicious, but he figured she didn’t want your name out amongst the clan.
After Natsumi died, the boy began to see and hear of you even more often. Apparently you had made friends with Peko at the funeral, which he certainly did not expect. He didn’t even realize she had invited you to the funeral by demand of his father. But it was that fact that got him to finally take an interest in you.
Your first meeting that wasn’t a simple wave from you followed by a scoff from him was when you were with Peko in the dojo. He watched the two of you train and meditate, not saying too much until you mentioned your little brother. You had an angry little sibling, that’s how you became friends with Natsumi...
So naturally, that’s what he brought up when the three of you left. You and Fuyuhiko were walking next to each other to your motorcycle home while Peko went her respective route (as to not be connected as Fuyuhiko’s bodyguard). The two of you got along well, surprising the short boy. You could handle his anger issues and calm him down just as well as you did with his sister.
Eventually it had gotten to the point where you got along too well. Which is what lead to today...
—————
You found yourself running out of the reserve course building faster than Hajime even. He watched you run off with a chuckle, wishing you luck on your mission. What was that mission exactly? Confessing your feelings to a certain yakuza.
You had met up with Peko earlier that day, she helped you prepare the letter and cookies. She then took them to her classroom and placed them on Fuyuhiko’s desk. When he had first seen the two, he immediately asked Peko who put them there.
“I did.” She said nonchalantly before quickly adding, “I was asked to by someone.”
Fuyuhiko raised an eyebrow, curious as to why she hadn’t given a name. He knew it couldn’t be from Peko, he would’ve seen her make the cookies. He also knew she wouldn’t deliver him anything that was unsafe, so he opened the letter before the bag of sweets.
—————
Dear Fuyu,
Before you ask, you do know me, but I’m not telling you who I am just yet. All you need to know for now is that I really like you, I have for a while. Even before we met, I admired you from a distance, which is kinda embarrassing to tell you.
If you‘re at all interested in who sent you this, I’ll be waiting at the fountain between the reserve and main course buildings. Hope to see you there... <3
—————
Now this got the gears in Fuyuhiko’s head turning. Someone liked him? Why? How?? Who???
Peko refuses to tell him either, using the excuse “you said I don’t work for you while at school” with a small playful smirk. He wanted to yell at her but it was Peko, he just can’t bring himself to yell at her.
He spent the rest of the day trying to figure out who sent it. It wouldn’t be anyone in class cause Peko put it there. He wasn’t close with many others in different classes. Part of him thought it was someone in the reserve course because it said to meet them between the two course buildings. Except Y/n was the only one he was close with in the reserve course, plus they were the only person to call him “Fuyu”. But there was no way they liked him back... right?
So he went with the only option he had, he was going to see who gave him this letter.
—————
You sat there at the fountain. Hajime had told you it’d be a good place to meet up with Fuyuhiko, since he often sat here with Chiaki. He told her to meet him somewhere else today for you. So here you sat, waiting for someone who may not be interested in coming.
Just as you were considering giving up and going home, you caught a glimpse of a short blonde boy in a main course uniform.
“Y/n..?” He sounded like he didn’t believe you were there. You gave an awkward wave.
“Did you like the cookies?” Your voice was light as he walked up to you, standing only a few feet away.
“Yeah.. they were really good..”
Fuyuhiko’s face was slightly scrunched, like he was thinking about something serious. It left you concerned but you didn’t know what to say. Instead there was a short and kind of awkward silence. It was deafening. After about a minute, he voiced his thoughts.
“You realize how dangerous this is, right?”
Your head tilted in question, making the boy sigh.
“Don’t.. get me wrong, Y/n. I... I-I really like you too.” Your face lit up for a moment, making his next words hard for him to let out. “But.. I’m a yakuza- the heir to the most dangerous gang in Japan.. people are gonna target you. I can’t have that.” He let out another sigh.
Your own face contorted into one of slight confusion. It slowly turned into amusement, causing you to cover your mouth to let out a stifled laugh. Fuyuhiko looked back up, clearly irritated.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?!”
His angry voice was amusing to you and made you laugh even more. This only pissed the boy off further. He stepped forward again and grabbed you by the shoulders, bringing your face close to his.
“This fucking is serious, Y/n! I don’t want to get some call that someone has you hostage! I don’t want to make you go into hiding cause someone threatened to hurt you! I don’t want to end up with you beaten to a pulp! I don’t want to find you dead in a warehouse cause they want to get back at the Kuzuryu clan! I just fucking can’t! Not after.. not after Natsumi..”
His hurt words forced you to calm yourself down. You took a breath and brought your hands from your mouth to his face, his freckled and blush-marked cheeks in your palms. A reassuring smile was steady on your lips.
“Fuyu, what’s my last name?”
The question took him off-guard for the third time that day. He knew Natsumi never mentioned it, neither did Peko. Why did this matter?
“I-I don’t know,” he answered honestly anyways. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he waited for a response.
“Owada.”
Fuyuhiko froze for a second. Owada? As in the biker gang Crazy Diamond?? How did he not figure that out??? Your motorcycle, the jacket you almost always wore, hell even the mention of your dead older brother and alive younger one should’ve been a hint.
It took him a minute to realize why you would bring that up. You had protection from that sort of thing. You were used to being targeted. You could defend yourself with ease. You weren’t gong to end up beaten to a pulp or dead in a warehouse like he had feared. You could take care of yourself even with all the violence surrounding gangs, cause you were the coleader of one. Or at least, your brother was the leader and the gang would protect you.
Once again, you let out a small laugh at his facial expression. It had snapped him out of his thoughts before he angrily grabbed you by the collar. He gave one last look into your happy eyes before kissing you.
To say it was inexperienced was an understatement. But you couldn’t care less, this boy was yours. He felt you soften up and let himself do the same, relaxing into the feeling of your connected lips.
Pulling away, you could see the smile on his face grow wide and the red on his face spread even wider. Both of you stood there for a while, simply staring into each other’s eyes. That is until you heard the engine of a motorcycle in the street.
“Y/n!” You let out a sigh and turned to your younger brother with a deadpan face.
“Mondo, I’m in the middle of something here.”
“You can have your fuckin kissy-face shit later, right now the dudes n chicks are wondering where their soon-to-be former leader is! You’re late for your step down party!”
Step down party? Fuyuhiko decided not to question it too much, he’ll probably ask about it later though.
Mondo stood from his bike and took a few strides towards you and the short boy, causing Fuyuhiko to look around to see if Peko had followed him like she usually did. And of course, she had, right behind the bushes surrounding the fountain. He turned back to see you next to your brother, smacking the back of your his head and messing up his pompadour. He looked like he wanted to smack you back but he knew he’d be in some deep shitif he tried. You turned back to Fuyuhiko, kissing him on the cheek lightly.
“I gotta head back, but I was thinking maybe I could get you a ride around town on my bike tomorrow? Like as a first date maybe?”
His smile couldn’t be wider.
“Yeah, I’d really like that- but don’t fuckin crash and kill me!”
“Just cause I’m stepping down as leader for Mondo doesn’t mean I won’t know how to drive a motorcycle anymore, Fuyu!”
He smiled as you let out a final laugh, turning towards the motorcycle Mondo had driven as getting on the backseat. Said brother tried to turn and yell at Fuyuhiko one last time.
“Hurt them and I fuckin swear-”
“-Mondo shut the fuck up and get on.”
“Peko, you’re not killing my partner’s brother.”
#fuyuhiko kuzuryuu#fuyuhiko#fuyuhiko kuzuryuu x reader#fuyuhiko x reader#danganronpa fuyuhiko#dr2#dr2 imagines#dr2 fuyuhiko
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i saw your reblog of the Spencer giving Aaron a father's day card thing and i can't stop thinking about how Aaron is the father figure to the entire team now.
(yes I'm also especially thinking about that one scene of Spencer and Derek stuck in the malfunctioning lift shrieking for Aaron just because. 🥴 dad!Hotch ftw!!!!!)
i know this concept has probably been done hundreds of times already but imagine: (SORRY THIS IS GOING TO BE A REALLY LONG ASK, I deeply apologise in advance)
[tw food/eating habits, some references to murder cases because you know this is Criminal Minds, some slight spoilers for people who haven't really watched the show and also reference & mention of autism & a character on the autism spectrum -> just a heads up, a disclaimer, I'm in no way diagnosed with autism, so if i have misrepresented autism, or made any mistakes, i apologise, it wasn't my intention, and i welcome all feedback & criticism — i genuinely want to learn]
a year after Spencer joins the BAU, Aaron notices & becomes very concerned over Spencer's (super bad) eating habits aka him only drinking coffee and forgetting to eat actual proper food when he gets absorbed in cases or research or reading etc -> which results in Aaron absolutely being like "hey Spencer let's grab lunch together" almost everyday just so Spencer eats (healthy, full meals)
(also Spencer picking up on this after Aaron "casually" gets him lunch/treats him to dinner/invites him over for meals for almost every day of the week and he was initially almost irritated/offended until he realised he could use Aaron's habit to make Aaron himself eat properly too because this hypocritical bastard doesn't eat properly himself either so every alternate day you can see Spencer purposely not going for lunch breaks while sneaking glances at Aaron's office just waiting for him to notice and drag them both to lunch together 😌)
also I really think Spencer is on the autistic spectrum (high functioning, imo, but I'm not really sure how this works, and I'd have to do more research) so I'd like to imagine Aaron knows that too because he's noticed Spencer's behaviors + Spencer got an official diagnosis and told him about it maybe 6-7 months into joining the BAU so I really think Aaron lets Spencer stim (physically, his hand gestures) on their lunch break because he knows that Spencer can't really do that in front of the others, so even when they're on cases, he would take Spencer out either for a private lunch or dinner or something, just the two of them, and he'd let Spencer stim & talk about any subject of his fancy as much as he wants to (I'm pretty sure someone wrote a fic like this and I absolutely can't remember the name or the author but I really LOVED the idea too)
initially Spencer was really taken aback too, because you know, this isn't something you do with your boss, of all people, but Hotch had always meant what he says and his facial expression and body language suggested that he was being absolutely sincere and serious about this, so Spencer tentatively started talking, and as their meal progressed, he eventually got comfortable enough to just go on, and not once did Aaron cut him off rudely, until the end of their meal, when Aaron couldn't continue to pretend to drink his soup because he'd finished it somehow with those incredibly small spoonfuls, and he'd had to gently tell Spencer that they had to go back, but Spencer wasn't upset, because he'd just got over an hour to talk about this recent seminar about the connection of ancient Greek mythology to the developments of the society in ancient Greece which no one had ever done for him before and he's full, satisfied and beyond elated because Hotch really didn't have to do this, but he did anyways
at first it was just something between them but eventually Derek noticed & like in the end I think it's a kind of open secret between Aaron, Spencer & Derek and now when Derek notices Aaron doing it he gives Aaron a small nod and he wards off & deals with the questions that the others have when they inevitably notices the private meals Aaron & Spencer has
speaking of Derek, Aaron definitely has 1 on 1 time with Derek too, but doing different things. Derek's thing is sports & home renovations, and he repairs/maintains cars & bikes when he can, and I like to imagine Aaron knowing about his hobbies and casually asking Derek about the home renovation he's working on one time (before or early S1) Derek came into his office to submit a case file, and Derek being kind of shocked/caught by surprised initially (because he knows Hotch has a soft spot for the kid because he's much younger and much, much more inexperienced but Derek's older and should know better, so Hotch won't do the whole private lunch thing with him, right?) but then he grins and starts telling Aaron about how "I got that place absolutely shining right now, man" and then he invites Aaron over to take a look at the place out of courtesy/habit (his mama raised him as a good, polite young man, and no way Hotch would even say yes right?) and to his surprise once again, Aaron does accept his invitation
after that one time, Aaron begins casually asking him about his projects and even starts offering to help him do some of the painting and decorating (to be fair, it calms Aaron too, to have a getaway from Haley and initially from the crying baby, because while he absolutely loved Haley and Jack with all his heart, some days, some days he just couldn't take it, all the stress from Strauss and from trying to be a good father unlike his own, and he had to take some time off to himself, and painting walls is calming and therapeutic to him in some sense) & Derek and Aaron start bonding over hotdogs while sitting out on the front porch of some halfway remodelled house, talking about the latest sports news (they support different baseball teams but that's okay, because Derek gets to grin at Hotch and ask him to pay up when Hotch's team loses to his, and Aaron gets to raise his eyebrows with that small knowing smirk of his and ask Derek to "complete this by the next weekend, will you" when Derek's team loses to his)
when Aaron recruits Penelope, he's read her file, or what little the FBI's cyberteam got on her anyways. he knows the Black Queen's reputation, and he knows that the cyberteam really don't trust her and recommended high levels of surveillance, but the moment he saw her through the glass of the interrogation room and her resume & application on pink paper, he knew that she's not just what the file said she is. initially, she sticks to the "bureau regulated office attire" because you know, Penelope knows she's lucky, she should've been jailed for what she did, she was jailed, until this Aaron Hotchner guy decided, somehow, that she was deserving to be on his team, even after looking at her resume, which she had written on pink paper out of pure spite (because nothing in the FBI rulebooks said anything about submitting your application on specialized coloured paper anyways) but she was moody and unhappy because she's stuck in this tiny office having to answer the phone whenever agents called to ask for details on icky, gruesome murders and disgusting, vile murderers so she decides that hey, since no one ever comes in here anyways, she might as well do some re-decorating right? so she starts bringing in her own soft toys and figurines and starts amassing a whole collection of soft, plushy, and colourful toys in because it's her office and if she has to deal with all these yucky stuff on a daily basis she's going to make it at least bearable to be in here
one day, some tall, stern looking guy just comes into her office with this Tupperware in his hands saying "hey, Garcia right? my wife made some extra cupcakes for the team, you want some?" and she asks "do i know you?" and he blinks, stands there for one, two seconds before- "sorry, i forgot we haven't actually met. Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner, assistant unit chief of BAU Team 1, nice to meet you," [i like to headcannon that before Boston & all, Hotch was Gideon's assistant, some kind of assistant unit chief probably, but while he wasn't yet the unit chief he was definitely taking care of most, if not all of the administration matters i.e. hiring new agents etc already because let's be real Gideon is caring & capable but really hands off sometimes (also in S1E1 Derek referred to Gideon as their Unit Chief so I assumed Hotch took over the position full time, officially somewhere between S1E1 and S1E2 or 3)]
and then Garcia's brain kind of short-circuits because holy shit this is her BOSS, aka the guy who somehow, crazily looked at her resume and decided to HIRE her and she just asked him if she knew him OH GOD ALL THOSE FIGURINES- and she tries to explain because she really didn't mean to break any rules with them and they aren't, are they? and she can remove them but just, please, she can't go back to prison.
but then Agent Hotchner just goes "hey, hey, Penelope. it's fine. I understand. this is your office, and you have the right to decorate it. I'm not going to fire you over.... My Little Ponies? and uh, some unicorns?" and Penelope can't help but laugh because he genuinely looks baffled by her collection on her desk, and did he just call her Penelope?
and after that, once, after a bad case that Aaron knew affected Penelope (it involved murdered parents & their only child left orphaned and it just hit too close to home for Penelope), he stopped by a local toy shop and bought the brightest, most sparkly, most colourful thing he could find in there (it ended up being a small figurine of a princess on a small, detachable throne that could light up and play some really funky pop music. Aaron cringed internally as he brought it over to the counter, and awkwardly nodded as the cashier asked, "buying this for your daughter, sir? she's going to love it, it's the latest in a collectable series" and he pretended to not see the questioning eyebrow that Derek gave him after seeing the package) and when he presented it to Penelope when they got back, he got the biggest and most bone crushing hug ever from Penelope because "aw that's so sweet, thank you! and you got me the latest in the collection! it's limited edition!" and it just ended up becoming a tradition — Penelope always looks forward to the end of a case now, not only because that means her people are coming home, safe, in one piece (sometimes debatable but still, they're coming home, to her) but it also means that Hotch has brought her yet another tiny figurine or souvenir to add to her collection and she can't wait to see what it is, and Hotch always, always, finds the time after they've wrapped up the case, before the jet leaves, to pop by a local toy shop to get both Penelope and later, when he's older, Jack some toys or souvenir from wherever state he's in, because he wants both of them to know, that despite all the bad out there, there is still good in the world, and they should never forget that
OKAY this ask is SUPER LONG already i apologise skfjsk i have ideas for JJ & Emily but idk if you'd even wanna continue reading them... (maybe.... give me a sign and I'll send another ask and write it? 🥴)
anyways this was just something that came up and i had to write it out 🥺 sorry for spamming you, i hope you're having a great day/night ahead.
- 🌙
Hi so I'm putting everything below the cut for scrolling purposes x
He is!!
Oh my god, I love that scene. It came up in a TikTok about ships, because Person A and Person B are both very smart when they're alone, but put them together and it cancels out, and it made me laugh.
I also love Dad Hotch. Like I love him as much as I love "fighting to keep his emotions in check because he needs to be a leader, but you can tell from the slight change in tone, or the slight glaze of his eyes that he's seconds away from crying" Hotch. Which is saying something.
DON'T APOLOGISE FOR LONG ASKS!! That's what the keep reading on posts is for :))
Oh I love how much Hotch cares about Reid, and of course Reid uses it to his advantage to get Hotch to do the same, because they're similar in that way. Also, he would definitely start grinning when Hotch looks down at his empty plate like: oh. Platonic Hotchreid is everything to me, because it's these two people that have been caretakers their entire life trying to look after another person that wouldn't let anyone do that and it's just... the HOTCH ANGST POTENTIAL THAT IS SO UNTAPPED!!!
Also, not a criticism of you, but from what I've heard from people is that functioning labels are harmful and shouldn't be used because it misrepresents the situation!
I love that idea though!! And Derek being protective over them so he's just like: no, you won't interrupt them, and I will take control of the situation for a few hours AAH!!
OH I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT MORGAN AND HOTCH BONDING!! It's so perfect!! I love the idea of Morgan teaching Hotch to do things, and Hotch realising how relaxing he finds it to do these things.
And because we can't have nice things: he refuses to go after Foyet breaks into his apartment because he doesn't deserve peace, but then Morgan just uses his key, drags him out, takes him to a house and presses a brush into his hand because he's not going to let his friend self destruct like this.
EVERYTHING ABOUT GARCIA!! OH MY GOD!! I need to get some work done, so I'm going to finish up there, but seriously!! Amazing!! I love the idea of Hotch getting her little figurines and stuff <33
(shameless self promo, she does the same for him in "and he will come back home" hehe)
I would love to hear the Emily and JJ ones!! I hope that's the sign you need :)
Don't apologise for spamming I was having a dull day, and I hope you have a good day too!
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A CERTAIN ROMANCE
CHAPTER FIVE: A SPECIAL DAY
Author’s note: Hello! We have finally reached the awaited date between Harry and Alma. I was really excited for this chapter, hopefully you will enjoy it as much as I did, forgive me in advance for any mistakes, my beta reader (my boyfriend) was unavailable, so this is a good time to say that if anyone out there has the time and willingness to beta read any future chapters send me an ask or message to let me know. Enjoy! (:
Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.6K **
Harry wakes up feeling excited, nervous and hungry. He takes care of the latter, decides to make some blueberry pancakes, turns out he can't eat more than two and a cup of coffee. Not that the pancakes weren't great, in fact they were fantastic, he even decides to brag about them on an Instagram story that is published for his close friends only. Nick quickly replies to it with a laughing emoji.
You should take a Tupperware full of them to your date ;)
The reason behind his excitement and nerves make his heart race, he decides to type in a polite 'fuck off' to his mate before heading to the shower. Under the warm spray of water he tries to sort out his thoughts. Harry doesn’t want to think about his upcoming trip to California.
It was necessary for the album or so he thought last week, after going through a box with the very few memories he kept from his ex. He wasn’t in a right state of mind then, he feels pathetic. The only reason why he wanted to spend time in Los Angeles was because everything there —from the pavement to the sky— was tainted by her.
Why would he want to go back to that place where the constant reminder of his pain was literally living in the same neighbourhood? Because it would provide him the cathartic release he was looking for. That’s the line he used after Sarah and Mitch tried to dissuade him from flying across the Atlantic and Harry was so proud of himself when it worked.
That very same day, he got the first text from Alma, it was the address like she promised. ‘In case one of your talents isn’t stumbling upon my work place ;)’ the second text read and Harry had to endure Sarah’s questionnaire about the girl that made him blush with a mere wink emoji. Not that he minded talking about her, he could go on all day.
He usually preferred a shower before breakfast, usually even work out before then but well, hunger clouded his judgement earlier today. Even with that taken care of that dread still niggled him away. Just slightly. So, he decided to pick up his guitar for a moment and strummed. There was no real intention to play seriously, or to write anything down on the journal by his desk. It was more of something he enjoys too much not to do it, a way to keep his hands and mind busy, faffing around with chords. With a bit of luck he might come up with a song, a tune which just worked, that just... clicked.
Contrary to what people might believe, genius didn't strike him here and then. Not like when he'd come up with Sign of the times or Two ghosts. But finding a neat little pattern of chords a good thirty minutes later makes him smile, it's something he can work with. It needs a little polishing from Mitch and company, sure, but it has a good rhythm. He scribbled down some notes on his journal and sent the audio to his fellow musician.
Maybe he will find the words in one of the old notebooks that are somewhere in the other room, perhaps on the ones that are still on his unpacked suitcase from Japan. Silently he also hoped to find the lyrics around London. He had lived in the capital for a few years now, but he had been different then. Now he likes to think that he's a man, no longer the teenager from the boy band or the shiny new solo artist. He has new perspectives, sights, smells in this new home of his. New ideas.
Harry gazes out his bedroom window; the view is not great –mostly of the other houses in the complex. His mind focused on the cloudy sky, confused because he swore it was sunny just a few minutes ago, can bet on his life that he woke up to dazzling sunshine rays of a warm yellow colour peeking through that same window. He puts his guitar away on the bed with care and makes a beeline to his wardrobe. He needs to figure out what to wear, pronto.
Skipping her afternoon kip was not something Alma did, it was a rare occurrence which meant one thing: something special was happening.
Walking down Oxford Street, trying to decide where to get some lunch without a care in the world, that was until the calmness faded, when her schedule for the day hit her.
She had a date with Harry. A date, with Harry Styles. It was weird to go by his full name in her head, she couldn't bring herself to call or think about him as The Harry Styles.
Maybe she'd settle to call him Harry the tube guy.
The clock on her phone showed that it was no longer single figure hours, she needed to get some food now or starve until her shift was over, and then he would have to watch her feast at whatever place he chose. Alma groaned, thought how ridiculous it was to worry about him watching her eat. Harry was a grown man; of course he knows that women eat too, right?
Walking into the nearest Sainsbury's she decided to take a deep breath. He's just some guy, she concluded after paying for her chicken baguette. Nothing to stress about.
Harry showered again, while belting out some classic pop tunes. Namely Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears, something that in the past he'd swear blind you'd misheard and it was actually The Rolling Stones or Pink Floyd. But he'd come to terms that he liked what he liked.
Towel clad in the bedroom, trying to shirk off hypothermia, he was quick to put on some pants and jeans, before throwing on some simple white tee proclaiming some fading band name. He uses a dry clean towel from the closet and attempts to dry his hair, as he styles his flopped mop the thought of a haircut crosses his mind. It was getting a bit long.
One last look at the clock and he is ready to leave. "You'll be fine. Trust me." He quietly speaks to himself before closing the last few buttons of his green parka and fixing the newsboy cap on his head.
When he walks out of Colindale tube station, a little earlier than half past five, he sees the bakery from her instructions just below the large modern building Alma was kind enough to describe. She was right; the bakery is right across the street, he waits for the green man to light up to cross, shoving his hands in his pockets. The huge front windows of the establishment allow Harry to see her behind the till, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. She looks better than she did three weeks ago. He hesitates about going in for a few minutes, but feels it ought to be better than to lurk on the street.
Alma can feel his presence the moment he sets foot into the shop, her eyes are drawn to him and a content close lipped smile is the best greeting he could ask from her. The only customer in the place can feel the shift in the atmosphere when they lock eyes. So, picking up her bag full of baked goods, she steps out and leaves them alone.
"Sorry if I'm too early." He begins while she takes off her apron and hangs it in the back wall.
"You're right on time," Alma says after checking her watch, "I'm off Carlos, see you tomorrow!" She hollers to the employee that is taking a non-allowed nap in the back. Harry holds the door open for her and follows out of the warm store. "Shall we take the tube?" At his affirmative response, she then takes out her Oyster card and leads the way.
The café was not somewhere Alma expected Harry to go, the little shop with soothing music and simple stools full of the scent of organic coffee brewing is dazzling and unique. A bit like him, she thinks. She liked it. It reminded her of the places she used to frequent when she had recently moved into the city.
Harry orders a black coffee at the counter before asking Alma what she'd like.
"A cappuccino, and remember I'm paying for our food," she hands him a tenner that he reluctantly takes from her.
"Absolutely," he iterates the order to the woman behind the counter and adds two salted caramel cupcakes handing over the cash. "If you get a seat, I'll bring it over."
Alma thanks him before scampering across the room to sit at the back two seat table tucked in the corner. It was right beside the large back window, dimly lit. Before she sat, she removed her signature burgundy coat and Harry couldn't help his eyes being drawn to certain aspects of his companion. Nice arse, he remarked with a raise of his brows before the woman behind the counter tells him for the third time that his order is ready, a look of disdain as she probably caught his gaze. Giving her a sheepish smile to appease her, he manages to balance the two plates and mugs in his hands and walk over to the table.
"They asked if you wanted whipped cream or foam and I settled for foam, hope that's not a problem." He plonks himself on the seat across from her, removing his parka in a clumsy manner before hanging it in the back of the chair.
"No problem, I actually despise–
"Whipped cream, yeah, I kind of remembered what you told me about that birthday party of yours," the green eyed lad finishes for her and scratches the back of his neck. "You know with that dare..."
Her eyes flickered down to the cupcakes laid out before them and she started picking the caramel out of one, hoping to hide the nerves his words caused.
"Right enough, yeah... I can't believe you remembered that or that I told you about it." She chuckled nervously at the anecdote she chose to share with him, it was a bit inappropriate due to the amount of vomit around it, literally. But he shrugged with a charming smile. No big deal. "Nice place," she noted.
"I know it's a bit of a strange choice. It doesn't strike me as, you know, the kind of place you put so much effort into for a first date..." Harry stops talking and now his eyes meet the cupcake in front of him. "Bollocks I must have sounded so daft, I'm sorry." Lucky for him, she doesn't laugh, instead she reaches out to stroke his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.
"Nothing to be sorry about, I can be quite daft so..."
"I doubt that Miss suave." He gets a laugh out of her then, one that is almost a snort and earns a few glances from other customers.
"I’m far from it! Honestly, I once accidentally stepped on dog shit and didn't notice until my date couldn't bear the stink anymore and checked my shoe, in a very fancy restaurant. Terrible story. Trust me, I can be daft." Alma held up her hands and the musician giggled at her.
"Promise you won't laugh?" he raised an eyebrow at her, pleading. She promised. "Well, I kind of always wanted to have a first date here. It's always one of the first places I visit when I'm back in London, the food is amazing, and service is excellent. Came here completely hung-over after my twenty-first birthday party. I guess it has a lot of good memories." Pinked cheeks gave away Harry's embarrassment, he wanted to relax and for her to be more comfortable around him.
With a sincere smile Alma placed her hand over his resting on the table. "I think that is very sweet." This reply was not what he had expected; she leant in and beckoned him closer. "For your information Harry, this is exactly a great place for a first date." Up close he swore the darkness of her eyes were about to swallow him whole and spit him out to an alternate universe. He swallowed hard and took a sip of his coffee to distract himself a bit. Perhaps caffeine was not a good choice on a day where his heart was speeding so frequently.
"Did you have a good day today at work?" he asks with a familiarity that Alma can get used to.
"Yeah, had a bit of free time to plan my next video blog. It's been ages since I uploaded one." She bashfully admits. "This cupcake was delicious, a great flavour choice." And just like that they fall into easy conversation until their cups are drained. The place is almost empty around quarter to eight and they both know it's almost closing time –the death glances from the employees behind the counter gave it away. They put on their garments again before leaving.
Harry makes his way to the door expecting Alma to follow. Instead she first gathered up their mugs and plates, to place them neatly on the counter and thanked the three workers behind it with a genuine smile. Harry looked surprised; she didn't quite have to do that. She noticed.
"Just being polite," she stated the obvious, before walking under his arm that held open the door. He chose not to comment and fought back a smile.
They stood outside, not really sure of what to do next. Usually he would suggest going back to his place. It was near, but he watched her yawn discreetly and he suddenly remembered that she had a real job, well actually jobs in plural. He broke the silence.
"It was nice to see you again Alma." He meant it and she smiled as she toyed with the buttons of her coat. British summer weather was hardly cold, but today it seemed to be punishingly windy. Harry near gave a shiver, but instead took a deep breath before speaking again. It was now or never. "It'd be quite great, if I could... I'd like to see you again. Please." He shifted on one foot, nearly drowned in the silence that followed.
"I'd quite love to see you again," Harry gave a slight gulp, very slight and got out strength from the words she spoke to take a big risk, the first of today.
He stepped closer and cradled her face in his hands before leaning down and kissing her cheek. It wasn't the full on kiss he wanted to give her. But it is something he'd been dying to do since he first saw her today, something he hoped would make clear how attracted he was to her. Harry smelled like coffee and caramel. God this man's lips are prettier up close, she thought right before he straightened up.
She stayed close to him before speaking again. A low murmur so that the passing London traffic wouldn't steal her words from him.
"This was an amazing date."
Alma walked with him the long distance of one mile to the tube station, their hands brushing against each other. He was desperate to just hold hers, kiss her soft knuckles and ask about the lightning-shaped scar on her little finger. But decided against it, he knew that West Hampstead was not a common area for paparazzi, but he didn't want to risk her. Especially after the splendid afternoon they just shared.
They said their farewells.
"I'll call you," he said again. She warned that he better, before entering the station, he took great delight in watching her walk away from him, his gaze falling once more to her bum now covered by the coat. Harry spun on his heel and walked the short distance to his home.
Surely London could help him find the lyrics for that tune, this city definitely had something.
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