#because the job is basically just to Sit There

[othernaut]

Without getting into the nuances of human taste with even more detail than has already been wonderfully provided, man - sometimes you want the generic.

One of the major themes of basically every sci-fi situation is alienation: being alone in the great indifferent darkness, being this awkward hairless monkey optimized for running long distances in sub-equatorial grasslands now thrust all willing into a landscape where abstraction is the only means of interaction. This is why all those silly little Star Trek vignettes of people having jazz concerts, poetry recitals, or fancy dinners are also incredibly important - like, sure, you can summon a holo-clone of the greatest jazz musicians in history to put together your dream band, sure, you can eat Christmas Eve mussels and calamari every night, but there it's just alone in your room. It's not an event. The alienation seeps in through the dark corners of your quarters; the solitude has weight.

If you grow up on Earth, or any place where people gather in the same societies they always have, with the same events and random shrimp festivals and kick-ball sports and trivia nights we've always done, then you claw back against that alienation with everything you've got. You know how. You manufacture a sound scientific reason to maintain an arboretum so you can take dates for a walk around the trees. You turn the time the computer glorked out the date as Easter Christmas Pride into a yearly shipwide holiday. You find a way to make the milestones mean something, or you make your own, because otherwise it's just you and the shadow, all of you, uncounted private solitudes eating gourmet chicken with the void.

But what if you grow up in that alienation? What if it's home to you? The weight of that loneliness is as bearable as air pressure. You notice it when it's gone, not when it's there. Maybe you grew up in one of those space stations, drifting like marine snow around the clean whalebone of a parent's duty. Maybe your mom does water testing, maybe you spent your youth bumming around all those graveyard towns that emptied out as soon as the stellar diaspora kicked in. Maybe your parents went through the hard times, the last rabid fight of scarcity, enough to still be thoroughly enchanted with all those utopian conveniences that make effort and want and connection inefficient and unnecessary. Maybe, maybe - the world has infinite ways to pull people apart from each other, infinite upon infinite when expanded to the size of a universe.

Maybe you spent years 7 to 14 on a space station that hosted twelve other juveniles out of a population of seven hundred, and four of those were little kids while the rest were species that don't do adolescence like you did. You kick around vasty promenades alone, staring out at black void and burning gases. You listen to downtuned lo-fi Catholic choral hymns at low volumes while sitting outside of engineering, the sound mixed and merged real-time; your education program subtly switches you onto the Music, Experimental track. You see your moms at night when they burst into your quarters, boiling with complaints about people you've never met and never will. They ask you how your day went, and you say it was fine. They kick on the replicator and ask you what you want for dinner. You have all the options there ever were. You don't know. You don't know.

Twelve years later, your affinity for rhythmic static appreciation resolves into a signal-noise mediator job on an actual planet with plants and everything. Your walk home takes you along a cobbled riverwalk bustling with bars and restaurants. You feel it, the pressure of it, every single time. Sometimes your co-workers take you out for drinks, and you appreciate it, but it's worse inside. Closer. Like a too-tight sweater; like atmospheric pressure. Your birthday - oh dead stars, they took you to a concert, there were hundreds of people there, they watched you and sang at you while you struggled to pop champagne. You walk past. The laughter and conversation follows, pleasant enough. You like that these people are enjoying themselves, the confirmation of it, as you walk up to your dim set of rooms.

You kick on the replicator and wonder what you want for dinner. You've been struggling not to just eat desserts for every meal; the replicator compensates for nutritional content, and that doesn't make it any easier to not just eat soft cookies in perpetuity. You consider noodles. It's not really what you want. It never really is.

If you were honest with yourself, you'd say you want Wafered Gelatin, Citrus Flavor - you know, the square-block ingot of generic sugar substitute that all your co-workers teased you about when you boggled over their homemade cupcakes. You tried ordering it a couple of times. The replicator gave you a bowl of orange Jell-O twice, a yuzu fried mochi trifle once.

What you want is the generic brown soda that came out of the dispensers that you'd drink by the liter while kicking around the upper promenade. What you want is the spicy steak cube skewers that came out identical every time, so much so that you could tell which one you were eating by the pattern of the marbling in your mouth. What you want is Wafered Gelatin, Citrus Flavor, printed out in the dozens and left in little crinkled paper cups on conference tables, the ones you'd sneak into hours after the meetings were over, the tongue-tingling pops of sugar-acid and the impossible texture and the quality of the loneliness in those empty rooms being somehow diffferent than the loneliness everywhere else -

Somewhere down the street, someone pops a champagne cork. The crash of glass shattering, a rousing wave of laughter: it's all right, it's all all right. Nothing's broken. Nothing's wasted. Nothing's lost. Nothing.

What do you want for dinner?

As a side note… I am really annoyed by one thing about Star Trek.

“Replicated food is not as good as real food.”

That’s ridiculous.  In Star Trek, replicator technology is part of the same tech tree as transporters.  Replicated food would be identical to the food it was based on, down to the subatomic level. 

[becausegraf]

Stolas is not Blitz's first rodeo - the case for Blitz' potential history as a de facto sex worker

(Okay, whoop de doo, here we go, if I sit on this essay any longer I won't get around to having dinner.)

Imagine someone you're into knows you've been struggling to make ends meet, and they approach you with this:

"Hey there, I've been thinking, how about we meet once a week to get giggity and have a good time, and in exchange I'll pay your rent, no strings attached."

Since 'this is hell' and not real life, also try to imagine what for example Moxxie or Millie's reaction might be to something like this. How would you envision this might go?

'What the FUCK' would be a completely sensible response. Even if someone agreed to this, you'd expect some reluctance, unease, nervousness, internal conflict... from most people.

And yet, this is basically what Stolas offered Blitz, and even in a hurry, his reaction wasn't at all shocked or confused. We see no hint of awkwardness in his behaviour around or during his monthly visits, not a lick of it.

There's a simple explanation for this: Blitz has done this before plenty of times.

He's quite literally 'used to it' and accepts this as a fairly routine type of agreement, without even questioning the concept of 'that horny head-in-the-clouds dork of a prince had a good time with me, and wants me to keep servicing him enough to offer me precisely what I want'. Stolas is far from unattractive to him, sure, 'why the fuck not'. Of all the ways this situation could have played out, this is one of the less difficult ones to deal with - satisfying people using his body is pretty much a 'shrug' to him, as opposed to having to come up with some kind of manipulation, or negotiating a different agreement, or keeping the grimoire against Stolas' will and earning himself the wrath of a Goetia.

The premise:

There is a long, long list of clues, many of them hiding in plain sight as 'haha crude jokes oh Blitz u so silly' moments, that Blitz has a history of providing sex as a service.

I also believe this is something most of the fandom already implicitly expects or wouldn't be surprised at all if it were confirmed in the show, but a lot of the implications are entirely invisible, and the effects on Blitz' behaviour are VERY easy to read as 'it's a comedy show, they write him this way because it's supposed to be crude and funny'.

Parts:

1) A hoard of hints

2) How this contributes to the massive disconnect between Blitz and Stolas' understanding of their arrangement

3) Some notes regarding the 'stage persona' of a performer, and recognition of achievements - a connection to his VA and co-writer

1) So, let's look at some contextual evidence first. This list is mostly constrained by my limited capacity to rattle off more examples on the fly, I'm sure you can easily find more of these everywhere you look.

- 'It's your night', and other such flat dismissals

This can be read as him just being cold and apathetic towards Stolas, as obviously 'Blitz is an unempathetic jerk-ass boyfriend'. However, if you read this through the lens of Blitz truly handling this arrangement pretty much like a professional, it makes perfect sense.

'We can do what you want, you're the client here buddy. This isn't about my preferences or wants, my job is to please you and not the other way around.'

- 'You know, I'm not really fussed when stuff like this happens' about Stolas rescheduling

Kind of a funky thing to say about your lover asking you if you have time to meet a bit earlier than originally planned, isn't it? Again, this makes sense if you read this arrangement as Stolas being like a client with a monthly appointment, and Blitz as the accommodating professional. The customer is king, if Stolas wants to move their appointment date (for something Blitz can do during his off-hours that aren't likely to conflict with other plans) then sure, it's not like he's going to charge a damn cancellation fee.

- 'But I thought you like it when I talk all dirty and fucky and shit'

The start of Apology Tour is a rough one, but it reveals a lot about the hidden reasons behind Blitz behaving the way he does with Stolas, and why we shouldn't take everything at face-value.

During their encounters, Blitz is in work-mode: h's very deliberate about how he comports himself and how to play to Stolas' tastes, for as far as he thinks he understands them. Stolas responded well to the aggressive stuff upon their first meeting as adults, and from Stolas' POV he had no real reason to clock that as *not actually really what Blitz' own personal preferred style is*. For as far as the owl knows, Blitz truly is unforcedly, naturally just 'like that' - scathing, dominant, rogueish, confident, bold and brash and adventurous in bed.

I think it's likely that Blitz probably *isn't*, maybe partially but not entirely, but trial and error quickly showed him Stolas is into that so... sure, he can accommodate. Whatever the fancy man wants of him, he can stay 'in-character' in that kind of exaggerated role pretty effortlessly.

Blitz glomming to MnM is a pretty big tip-off that he does have a sense of what true close intimacy is like and he absolutely does have a yearning for that. His 'I'm just here for the sex' bad boy attitude does not truly convey who he is as a person in his entirety.

The rowdy sexy assassin-cowboy-imp is the role he plays for Stolas, under the assumption that that is what he's into, and as a way to shield off his own much more vulnerable and conflicted real feelings. When it seems as if Stolas is no longer satisfied, he tries to 'get his shit together' and dial up the intensity, taking the whole sexually aggressive act to a level where it majorly crosses Stolas' boundaries.

Blitz at that point is just SO confused, so in turmoil with himself, and so terrified of losing the one point of connection he has to Stolas (which at that point really is pretty much their sexual compatibility plus a dollop of mutual je-ne-sais-quoi) he gets frustrated and just slips into a blind defensive rage.

(...yeah, that sure went over well, didn't it. 'God damnit Blitz', thus spoke the entire fandom.)

- Blitz' encounter with Chaz

This is a very interesting one to me. This set of scenes shifts very rapidly from one impression of Blitz to another, a triple pile-up of 'lol gotcha'.

'Oh ok , Blitz gets that it's kinda iffy to bang your friends' shitty ex' immediately gets subverted to

'...welp I guess his weird fixation is enough to disregard that entirely', and shortly after to yet another twist:

'-aaaaand welp, he took advantage of the situation without even blinking, because his instinct made him catch a whiff of something, and he took the first opportunity to poke into it a bit more even if said opportunity is banging the airhead randy shark'.

Blitz 100% uses his body like a tool. Any personal pleasure or bonuses that suit his whims he gets out of it is only part of his motivation. His played-for-laughs fling with Chaz is really much more functionally motivated: diving into bed with someone is just one of the several items on his list of things you can do to slip past someone's guard, shmooze them up, get up-close and even have them dead-asleep to create the perfect moment.

Watching this unfold, I personally very much did have that moment of 'oh dear that's a little concerning', that he made it look like he's 'just kind of a morally questionable ass', so casually making it seem like he was having some fun for his own sake when he was clearly going into this with the plan to slink out as soon as he had the shark where he wanted him.

This example also shows that Blitz clearly understands that sex and intimacy and trust are connected, but for him personally, that's pretty much optional (or even explicitly to be avoided).

- 'I've spent too much of my time, energy and holes on getting us set up', (so maybe don't get lame about this Mills)

File under 'haha Blitz so crude' and the easy interpretation of this as referring ONLY to Stolas. This likely concerns all the work he's done over the many years, starting long before the short time he's had the grimoire at his disposal at the time he says this.

He also does note himself as a) business savvy and b) sexy as fuck as the two major assets he has that he thinks of first in this scene. Blitz knows he's capable of capturing 'that kind' of attention, and he's clearly willing to make use of that.

- Finding out later in the series that he has a whole slew of exes that are still upset with him

This 'reveal' aligns with the general impressions we have of Blitz by that point pretty well. I wasn't surprised at all about that one - 'Oh, of course he does'.

Blitz dodges truly close personal intimacy, but he hardly avoids getting into situations that most people would experience as explicitly intimate, vulnerable and personal. His idea of 'boundaries' are very different from those of most people he deals with, and it's truly no wonder he ended up attracting quite a number of people to him only to ditch out once it became clear they were expecting some kind of romantic commitment.

With his natural charisma and easy charm and his *actual* innate kindness, combined with his well-practiced capacity to flirt and fluster and flatter, people that get to know him may very well be tempted rather quickly. They then easily misread his intentions when he's not one to say no if they make a pass and he's passingly interested. Of course, as soon as they let it show they're falling for him in earnest, *WHAM* goes the door, with no warning and often a sound 'fuck you' to seal the deal and ensure they don't come back.

'Why would he go and get intimate with me, if he didn't want to be with me?!'

The sheer confusion only adds to the offense at that point, and it's that lack of a sensible explanation that contributes to the pattern of people struggling to 'get over it'. We want to know 'why', we need the story to make sense, but Blitz does not give people that closure easily.

'Sorry I have a warped relationship with sex and it doesn't mean to me what it means to you as a baseline, AND I have massive hangups about people getting the feefees for me because everyone who does gets torn to shreds, so if we get giggity that's all you're gonna get from me' isn't really the kind of thing Blitz tells people ahead of time or after the fact.

- I may add more later or in a reblog, I could go on for hours honestly...

2) All this is far, far removed from Stolas' entire world

We all understand pretty well that our beloved well-intentioned dork of an owl has had a pretty sheltered existence (albeit frought with its own problems), and has *very* little experience in the realm of actual sexual activities.

If someone more worldly were to encounter Blitz and regularly interact with him in the way Stolas does, I think it would very quickly begin to raise questions.

You know, if someone so consistently treated your 'sexy date nights' the way Blitz does, I think quite a few of us would start to catch on that maybe he's got some, eh, 'circumstances' that inform his behaviour. Stolas however has nothing to go off off - Blitz is the experienced one, and he certainly acts like everything they do is pretty par for the course. Blitz is the role model, the example Stolas learns from about 'how things work' and what the rules are.

The issue is that Stolas is trying to learn how to have a fulfilling intimate relationship with someone, while Blitz is, in some fashion, actually trying (rather frustratedly at times) to teach him the code of conduct around just-business sex work. Over and over and over we see Blitz try to remind him of these rules, and from our POV, this comes across as Blitz being kind of cruel and mean because he's bluntly brushing off every earnest attempt Stolas makes to forge a connection.

Stolas doesn't understand what's going on under the surface, and for the most part, *neither do we as the audience*. We're here for the fluffy love story, and the hilarious impish shenanigans of our kind-of-a-dick of a protagonist. *Neither we as the audience nor Stolas take Blitz' behaviour and push-back seriously* as we don't get to explicitly view things through his eyes with the full understanding of what the world works like for him. He's either acting like a douche, or being erratic and hilarious, all just meaningless funny bullshit - right up until the moment where he snaps and suddenly it's no longer charming.

Stolas hapless persistence with trying to move past these 'walls', as he truly does desire something very different, eventually leads to Blitz giving up on getting him to cut it out, and it really seems as if he desperately tries to interpret he situation as an unruly spoiled but harmless client getting way too into the 'playing boyfriends' roleplay.

After all, what else could it *possibly* be? Love? Ha ha ha fuck you, of course not. What kind of asshole would even suggest that, that's just hurtful, inconsiderate and stupid - don't play with his feelings like that, it's JUST BUSINESS and Blitz needs to keep his head on straight. He's got a job to do and if he fucks this up and lets himself get attached and it all gets too real holy fucking sh- just drop the sky on him while you're at it, why don't you.

NO.

3) There are some themes here, as per the person who plays a big role in shaping Blitz' character

As 'the sassy crass youtube dude' in reputation I wouldn't be surprised if Brandon Rogers himself might be kinda familiar with the effect of people mistaking your 'on stage persona' for who you really are. People at times approach performers like him under the assumption they're always 'like that', and they tailor their behaviour according to that, too, instead of taking a step back and treating them like a regular person with regular boundaries.

At some point Brandon also said one of the things he relates to the most with Blitz is how much it irks him when people low key look down on what he's achieved.

'Nobody just handed him stuff, he and the team put in a fuckton of hard work into getting to where they are now'

This echoes Blitz' derision towards Fizz as someone who seems as if he's being given privileges, resources and support on a silver platter, just for existing as the person Asmodeus has a special interest in.

I will let that lead into my concluding comment:

I'm pretty damn sure we don't officially know the first damn thing yet about everything Blitz has put himself through to make it out of his twenties alive, just for starters, and to then become successful and reliable enough to provide a stable home for Loona and get his business off the ground.

[darkmatilda]

𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after prentiss leaves, someone has to take care of her cat. you decide to share the responsibility between the two of you, leading the people around you to some strange conclusions.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, mini absurd arguments, spencer texting her at 3 a.m. just to infodump about cats (theyre too sweet i cant), theyre completely in their parents era, proof that my sense of humor is silly, diva pov in the final scene!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.3k

𝐚/𝐧: this idea was suggested to me in a comment when i asked for fic ideas for the marathon—basically i think two people mentioned something about the return of that little kitten 🫶🏼

marathon masterlist

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” she asked, turning her head toward him.

Reid, sitting in the passenger seat of her car (her wonderful car…), sighed and closed his eyes.

“You should’ve asked me that when we were still at my apartment,” he muttered. “Then I could have checked. But I’m pretty sure I’ve got everything—like the litter box, the food…”

“A silk pillow?”

“Since when do cats need silk pillows?”

“Well, maybe other cats don’t, but mine does. The delicate fabric is the best for her fur.”

“And she’s still going to sleep on the shelf in the bathroom. Or the fridge. Anywhere but there. It’s a cat.”

She hesitated for a moment, but decided not to push. A brief explanation of what it was actually about—a while ago, they had both saved a kitten they found on the street. Neither of them had the time or the means to care for it, so it ended up in good hands with Emily. But when Prentiss accepted the job at Interpol and moved to London, it became necessary for someone else to take care of the kitten. Her second cat, Sergio, was taken in by Penelope, but she couldn’t adopt both, so they came up with the idea of sharing the responsibility.

This meant the cat would spend a few days with Reid and a few days with her, depending on their plans, schedules, and simply the time they had. It was a fairly new arrangement, so Spencer was about to take the cat in for the first time, and he felt as though it was much more serious than it really was.

After the first night, she literally came over in the morning to check if all her precious one's needs had been met and if she was well cared for. As it turned out, of course, everything was fine, and since she was already there, they went to work together.

“By the way,” she began, just as Reid reached for the car door (her wonderful car…!), which made him turn back toward her, hand paused midair. “I’m not convinced about that food Prentiss was giving her.”

Spencer barely held back an eye roll. Most of her concerns (and there were a lot of them) were entirely unfounded.

“It was fine. The vet recommended it himself.”

“But it didn’t look very good.”

“That’s because it’s cat food. It’d be weird if you thought it looked appetizing.”

“We’ll come back to that. Last thing—I had a few things delivered to your place…”

“To my place?”

“Yep. A harness, a leash, a bowl…”

“She already has a harness and leash. And I have bowls at my apartment…”

“Yeah, but these are nicer. Red with gold accents. They’ll match her black fur.”

“I’m genuinely starting to worry about you.”

“Why? Is it so wrong that I don’t want my baby getting laughed at by the other kids for wearing outdated clothes?”

“She’s a cat. Cats don’t laugh at each other for wearing outdated clothes. That kind of mean behavior is strictly human.”

“Say what you want, but I saw those judgmental looks last time I took her out for a walk.”

“You should be teaching your child that her worth isn’t tied to clothes or material things.”

“She knows that. And soon she’ll also learn that her father’s a cheapskate who doesn’t want her to have cool accessories.”

Spencer ended the conversation with a wave of his hand, deciding the level of absurdity had officially gone too far.

“We’re about to be late,” he pointed out, glancing at his watch.

She gave him a wounded look, as if time were a concept he’d personally invented just to get rid of her. Still, the fact remained—they really were about to be late.

They stepped out of her car (her wonderful... ha! Not this time) (...her wonderful car...) and almost immediately ran into Morgan’s surprised stare.

His takeaway coffee cup froze halfway to his lips.

“Since when do you two show up to work together?”

They exchanged a glance. Spencer’s was mildly awkward; hers was completely unfazed.

“Good morning, Morgan. Nice to see you too. That’s usually how these things start,” she replied in a lecturing tone, to which their friend only rolled his eyes.

“Good morning and all that. So?”

Spencer decided to step in, offering his own explanation—he wanted everything to be clear, no misunderstandings, and most importantly, no two weeks of Morgan shooting him those suggestive looks from beneath raised eyebrows.

“She was already leaving my apartment this morning, so we figured we’d just come in together,” he said plainly.

Morgan did exactly what Spencer had hoped to avoid—he shot him a suggestive look from beneath raised eyebrows.

She, too, fixed her gaze on him, the corner of her mouth curling with mild pity.

“Leaving each other’s apartments in the morning…I’ve gotta say, you two surprise me, but I can’t say it’s unexpected,” Derek commented, completely ignoring Reid’s emphatic head-shaking.

Before he could get another word out, he was silenced with a wave of her hand.

“Better not make it worse,” she told him, then sighed and turned to Morgan. “We just have a baby together.”

Spencer stared at her, wide-eyed.

 “And I’m the one making it worse?”

Morgan shook his head at them with a small smile and simply walked off, calmly sipping his coffee.

Naturally, Spencer hurried after him.

 “A cat! We have a cat together…!”

*

Spencer barely noticed Hotch’s arrival or the fact that the whole team had gathered—he was far too absorbed in the book he was reading.

Alex had been a little surprised by his choice of subject, but he’d explained that lately, he’d been reading a lot about cats. That was just the way he was. He felt a constant need to expand his knowledge, especially in areas that directly affected his daily life.

It had been two weeks since they’d taken the cat in together, and while he had grown used to the added presence in his apartment on certain days, he was still learning fascinating things about these creatures—either from personal experience or through books and articles.

Whenever he came across something particularly interesting, he made a mental note of it to share with her later. That is, with his colleague in shared cat ownership. In shared responsibility for Marie. Since they were doing this together, they needed to be equally educated.

And since there was quite a lot to learn, he eventually started texting her things like:

The claws on a cat’s back paws aren’t as sharp as the claws on the front paws because the back ones don’t retract and, as a result, get worn down.

To which he would receive replies like (which gave him a strange internal delight he would never admit out loud):

really?? going to check wait

Only for five minutes to pass in silence—until a new message popped up:

can’t check, she’s sleeping. you should be too, it’s 3 a.m

Spencer mentally bookmarked the exact page and line where he’d left off so he could return to it later.

In the meantime, Penelope stood before the team, remote in hand, ready to brief them on their next case. But before she could say a word, someone else walked into the room—despite the fact that the whole team was already there.

Funny. He’d just been thinking about her.

“I looked into what you asked me about,” she said, her eyes focused solely on Garcia, not sparing even a passing glance in his direction.

Not that it was particularly strange. Even though they hadn’t seen each other yet that day. It’s not like he always looked for her face first, in every room he happened to walk into.

In any case, she handed Penelope a few papers.

“I adore you, I swear,” Penelope gushed, accepting the papers with heartfelt gratitude.

“I know you do. Oh—and I know you didn’t ask for this, but I figured it was worth looking into, and I actually found something interesting. Take a look…”

She launched into something connected to their new case. Reid reached for the case files, flipping through them quickly to catch up with what she was referencing.

His gaze moved in a steady rhythm—from her face, to the page he was reading, and back again—following the cadence of her voice.

At one point, she caught the look he gave her and tilted her head slightly, a thoughtful expression forming on her face. She didn’t say anything, just kept talking about the case, and their eyes didn’t meet again until she was already at the door.

With one finger raised, she spun on her heel, as if something had just occurred to her. That finger landed squarely on him.

Curious about what she was about to say, Reid straightened in his seat. And then…

“I hope you remember the castration appointment. Six o’clock. You better be there early,” she said briskly before walking out of the room.

Every gaze in the room—unified like a single entity—turned toward his now unnecessarily upright figure.

Spencer’s fingers fidgeted with the papers in his hands, one drifting to his mouth as he cleared his throat.

“We…have a cat now…”

*

You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, eyes never leaving the test results spread out in front of you. Someone appeared at your side, and you knew exactly who it was—even without turning your head.

Over time, you had learned to recognize the people who regularly stepped into your lab—their footsteps, the way they moved, even the sound of their breathing.

This one was new. Quiet, almost shy. He’d only just joined your team, and he was young, with those perpetually shadowed eyes that always seemed to drift around the room in a distant sort of way. Judging by those eyes alone, one could assume he was constantly contemplating the essence of human suffering—and quietly mourning all eight billion souls, one by one.

But truthfully, he had the makings of a brilliant chemist. All he needed was a little more confidence.

“Um, you wanted to see me,” he reported, hands clasped behind his back. Or at least, that’s what you assumed he was saying—he usually stood like that until your stare reminded him he looked like a lost calf, and then he’d shift his posture in embarrassment.

“Indeed. Take these to Dr. Reid.”

You handed him the analyzed results, and he gave a simple nod. He returned ten minutes later, once again taking his place silently by your side, waiting to be noticed.

By then, you were already done with your coffee, fully immersed in your work, and you gave him only a brief nod—enough of a signal that he, too, should get back to it.

“Dr. Reid asked me to tell you…” Winchester began, looking even more awkward than usual. “That unfortunately, he won’t be able to take Marie this weekend.”

You sighed in frustration, and he nearly jumped, thinking it was directed at him.

“We agreed to take turns looking after her every weekend. Does he really have to change it at the last minute?” you muttered under your breath, mentally noting to call him and yell — just on principle. Because honestly, nothing was stopping you from taking the cat for the weekend.

But doing it this way was just more fun.

Winchester nodded and started assisting you with your work, occasionally swallowing nervously, as if trying to find a topic of conversation.

He seemed to live under the impression that whenever you were silent, you were probably planning to destroy the galaxy you all lived in — so he always tried to make awkward small talk, which, truth be told, he had no real desire for as a self-declared introvert.

“So…” he began hesitantly. “Her name is Marie? Is that after…?”

“Marie Skłodowska Curie? That’s right, point for you,” you replied, pausing for a moment as something crossed your mind, making the corners of your lips curl up unintentionally. “Although, at first, it was Albert. We thought she was a male. Blame Spencer and his bad vision,” you snorted.

Winchester looked genuinely shocked.

“How...how could you...what about the doctors?” he stammered, still trying to process the situation.

“What's wrong with them?”

“Didn't they tell you that you...have a beautiful little girl?”

“They did. But we thought it was a boy at first.”

“O-okay,” he muttered, suddenly opening his mouth like he had just realized something. “Oh, okay, now I get it. And, well, I admire you. A home birth must’ve been…tough.”

Only then did you look up at him, raising an eyebrow. He looked like he deeply regretted not keeping his mouth shut, but at the same time, had no idea where he had gone wrong. He scratched his head.

“Sorry if that's a sensitive topic.”

“Our cat would be a sensitive topic?” you asked, trying to hide your amusement because the sheer panic on his face was almost comical. It was reminiscent of Reid’s mortified expression when he tried desperately to conceal that something you did or showed him embarrassed him—though his cheeks gave him away.

“Your…your...I thought...I thought Marie was your and Doctor Reid’s child,” he stuttered, panicking. “And that...I don’t know, you’re divorced or something...should I just shut up now?”

You stared at him for a moment, as if he were battling with himself to close his eyes, as if that would make him disappear.

“Yeah, that’d be probably the best best”

Lmaoo Winchester = Whitaker from the pitt this is exactly what I had in mind while writing

[miowyaa]

If it's alright, I have another request!!

I LOVED the story you wrote out of my previous request! It was amazing! And hilarious 😂

Do you think (if you have time and are okay with taking another request from me), you could write a Shidou x GN! Or nonbinary reader? I know you don't do NSFW which is totally understandable, but if you could add a touch of ✨spice✨ that'd be great. Oh! And I already have the trope in mind, enemies to lovers 😁

I hope this request is fun for you! If you need to change it in any way, that is perfectly fine. Thanks!

Leave me alone, you freak! ; Shidou x Gn!Reader

A/N: Thank you for your request! This was so funny to write, if you read the wiki/ egoist bible, it says that before a game, Shidou likes to go take a goodluck poop. Not really enemies to LOVERS but definitely enemies with crushes on each other. So um. Yea, enjoy..

CW: you get chased down by an intimidating shidou (not very romantic, i know :( ) , you basically get jumpscared by him. 

It's not everyday that you’re being chased down some random hallway in a large stadium, tablet in hand, praying to whatever force out there to help you make it out alive. As most people would agree, this doesn't usually happen to them either. You’ve never thought of yourself as a bad person, honestly- quite the opposite! If you had to describe yourself (not to toot your own horn,) you’re pretty much an upstanding citizen for the most part. So is it just that bad things happen to good people? For goodness sakes, you’re just trying to do your job.

“Go away!” You cry, the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes, never in your life have you run as fast you are right now. In hot pursuit, is a demon, a monster straight out of your worst nightmares, the living embodiment of all evil: Shidou Ryusei. Mind you, this was all because you very kindly told him that NO, he could NOT take an extra 15 minutes to go take a good luck dump right before his game especially since everyone was waiting for him already. You thought it was fine, it was cool, everything was all hunky-dory..But apparently not, since right after his match ended, he decided to just start sprinting towards you.

Fear, adrenaline, everything bad is literally coursing through your veins right now. You could care less how stupid you look right now as you flail your limbs around trying to get as far away from this man as quickly as possible. You hear him giggling behind you, and it just infuriates you even more. What is this? Some poorly made horror game you pirated made from free models and random free clips of children cries online? Though, to be fair, those kinds of games have the scariest jumpscares. 

Rounding a corner, you stick yourself to the wall before slumping down. It's a bit hard to believe this is happening, all in the span of a few minutes too. Maybe you can convince Ego to put Shidou on some tranquilizers or something. Alas, this is just wishful thinking. For now all you can do is to pick yourself up and walk yourself somewhere that he hopefully is FAR away from, fingers crossed!

It works out so perfectly, you even bust out a little tune. A little hum, if you will. Free from the beast, you’re given a false sense of freedom, unaware of the looming threat staring, looming, lurking… from afar. You caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure in your periphery, but you brushed it off. No way that's him, absolutely no way. You weren't going to let such a trivial matter ruin the rest of your day, nope!

So why is it now that you find yourself beneath him as he grins way too widely? You’re scared that he’s going to start drooling on you or something.

“KYAAAAAAH!” You scream out, finding yourself trapped underneath his weight. God forbid you want to go take a walk or something, because now, there's a freak basically sitting on top of you, pinning you down. Is this a scene straight out of an otome game? Are you… a pervert for having such thoughts…? Well, no, because this isn't your fault. Nothing is EVER your fault!

After your initial scream, you stay quiet staring directly into his eyes. You don't doubt that your face is a deep shade of pink right now, and it's no thanks to the guy on you right now. Who cares if your mind is cycling through thousands of probably non-PG thoughts right now? Though, your train of thought is finally broken when he finally speaks.

“Got you!” Well, NO SHIT.

“Dont worry, I forgive you,” he muses as if there was really any wrongdoing on your part in the first place. Wrapping his arms around you, he basically traps you even more.. You can feel them getting numb, and although you can't say this position is something you hate, embarrassment prevails! 

You’re shaking from a mixture of embarrassment and anger, and if that wasn't bad enough, he doesn't seem to give a crap at all! (Haha, crap, get it? Sorry.) He releases one of your arms from his grip and uses it to cup your face ‘sweetly,’ his fingers tracing over the outline of your jaw as if this were normal. He even lets out a little “heehee.” Maybe you’ve fantasized about this happening before, or maybe you haven't, whose to say? Though you didn't expect it to happen so quickly, it's definitely happening. This is it, you’re living your main character's life..! Is what you would think if you were sound of mind right now. Sound of mind is one way to put it though, since you’re probably part of a minority who thinks like that normally.

You’re still trapped, dare you say, provocative, position and it doesn't look like he's going to let go any time soon. You’re pretty content with staying in this position forever, just not now. Maybe in a few months or years, when he's toned down or something. But for now, you decide that you need to escape. So with all the strength you can muster, you slam your leg up into the area where the sun refuses to shine.

Expectantly, he weakens his grip which gives you just enough time to flee. As you’re running away for the second time, you stop for a moment to turn around to stick your tongue out at him. If Shidou could read minds, he’d know that you were calling him a “loser” and to have “better luck next time!” And although he does not have the required psychic abilities required to telepathically read your mind, he shoots you a wink which you so lovingly return with a middle finger.

Truly, what a love story! Throw the roses or something, everyone..

© miowyaa | please do not steal, repost, or translate any of my work.

[madd-nix]

Tracks of Recovery

A short story about Emmet helping his brother deal with amnesia. This is for my Split In/go au, which you can find more about here and here.

Words: 1,084

"Dissociative amnesia?" Emmet looked at the doctor in shock and confusion.

"Yes, in short, it's a form of amnesia that causes the person to forget things about themself," the doctor explained. "After all of the tests we've run, that seems to be the most likely case. He remembers you and the rest of your family and friends, he seems to remember most things about his job, but he remembers almost nothing about himself or what he specifically does as a subway boss in terms of his pokemon or battling. He also doesn't have a concussion, just a slight bump from seemingly falling and hitting the ground, so that is out as a cause. It's possible that whatever happened to him traumatized him, which is a common cause for dissociative amnesia."

Emmet felt like the room was spinning. His brother had amnesia? Something terrible happened to traumatize him? Emmet was glad when he spotted a chair next to him. He needed to sit down.

"There is good news!" the doctor added quickly. "Most cases of this type of amnesia are temporary, with the patient recovering their memories after a few days, weeks, or months, so it is possible for Ingo to regain his memories. I highly recommend getting him into therapy to help him deal with any stress, anxiety, or depression he could be feeling due to this situation. I also would just make sure he's surrounded by people he knows and trusts. Make him feel safe. If it was a traumatic event that caused this, helping him feel safe and comfortable could help his mind feel well enough to bring back those missing memories."

Emmet nodded along, making mental notes. Therapy. Safety. Friends and family. Those were all easily doable. He had a plan now. He could focus on that. If he had a plan, then surely he could help his brother get through this. He was Emmet, and he would succeed in helping his brother!

"Thank you, Doctor. I really appreciate the help," he said sincerely. The doctor nodded back.

"You're welcome. If you need any other assistance, just use the call button in his room. I'll talk to the nursing staff about getting him released to return home with you." With that, the doctor left, and Emmet was alone.

He could do this. He could help Ingo.

~~~~~

Ingo still couldn't remember.

It had been about two months. Nothing had changed. Ingo was in and out of therapy, in and out of doctors' offices, and still no progress. Even when reminded of his own name, Ingo would forget it minutes later, needing to be reminded. He recognized his pokemon, but nothing specific about them or how to battle with them. Any attempts at battling were flops. Ingo couldn't even remember the basic rules of fire beats grass, grass beats water, and water beats fire that every new trainer learns when they start out. The Singles and Multi lines had to be closed down because of this, much to Ingo's disappointment. Emmet knew his brother felt guilty about that, but Emmet assured him it wasn't his fault, and that they would be back to normal eventually.

But the longer this went on, the more Emmet's hope wavered.

They were heading home after a long day of work and therapy. Ingo was still capable of working the conductor half of their job, and it gave him some normalcy and routine in his life. And every few days, they'd leave work early to go to Ingo's therapy appointments, with Emmet usually waiting in the lobby for him.

"Do you want pizza for dinner tonight?" Emmet asked as they walked out of the therapy clinic together. "I do not feel like cooking tonight."

"Me neither," Ingo said as he ran a hand through his hair before replacing his hat on his head. "Pizza sounds good to me."

"Great. Pepperoni?" Emmet was already on his Xtrans to get an order started.

"And garlic bread?" Ingo added.

"Yup. I will order it now so it should be delivered shortly after we get home," Emmet said as he tapped away on the wrist device.

There were a few moments of silence as they walked, with Emmet putting in their online order, and Ingo lost in thought. As Emmet lowered his wrist, finally done, he looked at his brother.

"Ingo? Hey, are you alright?" Ingo hesitated a moment before looking up, as if it took him a moment to realize that he was being addressed. He had forgotten his name again.

"Ah, yeah, sorry," Ingo stammered out. "I just... I don't know how much this therapy or the doctor visits are helping. I haven't been able to really remember anything. And even when you remind me of things it's as if they derail almost immediately. I can't seem to hold on to anything, no matter how hard I try. Even when I try to remember my name, who I am, what battling is like, I can't seem to hold on to any of it. It's... frustrating. I know you and Elesa and Iris and Dad and my therapist have all said to just be patient. 'The memories will return in time.' But what if they don't, Emmet? I'm... I'm tired of being patient. What do we do if my memories never return?"

Emmet wanted to be encouraging. He wanted to tell Ingo that it would be okay. That he would get his memories back. But that's not what Ingo was asking. And Emmet couldn't lie to his brother for the sake of holding on to an ideal future.

".....I am Emmet. You are Ingo. My brother. My best friend. We are a two car train. Whatever happens, whatever tracks lie ahead for us, we will travel them together. If you never regain your memories, I will still be here for you. I will still help you. No matter what. I promise."

That seemed to uplift Ingo's spirits a little. Ingo was not very physically expressive, but Emmet could see the corners of his mouth curl up, and the way Ingo's eyes crinkled a bit. It made Emmet smile more genuinely.

"Thank you, Emmet."

"You're welcome, Ingo."

~~~~~

Meanwhile, the Pearl Clan in Hisui had found and gained a new member, and a certain godly entity watched everything between both times and places with interest. Every was going according to plan so far. Once both versions of this human were a bit more settled It would send in the Chosen Hero.

[daughterofevil158]

How would each of Damon’s soulmates & soulmates in law spend time with itty bitty Damon if they had to watch him alone for a day?

Writing under the assumption that they've somehow crossed the language barrier

◊ Toshiko: Studio Ghibli marathon with all the snacks they can get their hands on

◊ Cassidy: She's definitely getting him to play all the video games grown Damon refuses to because "they're for babies." Teaches him swears on accident

◊ Wolfgang: frantically googling what kids like they either play board games or read together

◊ Kai: Is very obviously just copying what his babysitters did for him as a child. Probably just watches some Power Rangers-esque show with him

◊ Mark: Stays at the house, I can see him teaching Damon some basic piano songs

◊ Desmond: 100% taking him outside to the park

◊ Diana: also a park goer, but specifically they play on the swings together

◊ Jett: gets a bunch of watercolor and finger-paints, and they just paint for most of the day

◊ Eva: Pokemon marathon. I can believe that she has every episode pirated on a flash drive somewhere

◊ Ulysses: takes him to one of those interactive museums for kids

◊ Wenona: assuming she isn't just...hiring a babysitter, she probably just buys lots of kid-targeted quiet activity stuff, a little chair and table, and just sits him in the corner of her office while she works.

◊ Jean: makes a little scavenger hunt around the house

◊ Ingrid: I can see them doing one of those polymer clay kits together

◊ Eloise: mostly just lets him do as he pleases (within reason) but is also keeping a close eye on him. She would join in if he asked her to tho

◊ Grace: Internally screaming because goddammit why her?!?! Has the common sense and ability to do a decent job at keeping a child alive at the house, and is just grateful that he's an obedient kid even if he's also a mouthy little brat. Teaches him swears on purpose

[lemotmo]

To be honest, I think Bobby will return in episode 8.18, or they’ll give a hint that he’s alive—maybe being held captive—and the season will end there. That would leave us anxious during the hiatus. Season 9 could start with Bobby being rescued from captivity, making his rescue the big emergency at the beginning of the season.

If Bobby is dead, I’m almost certain they’ll bring in a big-name actor to attract attention from the general audience and the fandom. Not to replace Bobby or to be a love interest for Athena, but just to add to the cast—maybe an old friend of Athena’s and Hen’s.

The fandom is angry and wants the show canceled. Still, I think even if Bobby is dead, we’ll have at least three more seasons without issue. Many general audience viewers will continue watching because of Athena’s and Jennifer’s storylines. Just look at Grey’s Anatomy and other ABC shows—sometimes the live ratings aren’t great, but they perform well on streaming.

I doubt Angela would want to leave, especially since she and her husband are executive producers of 9-1-1 Nashville. His production company is credited alongside Ryan Murphy Productions.

I'm combining both of your posts Nonnies, because they elevate each other.

I've also thought about it being revealed that Bobby is alive at the end of 8, just to keep people talking during hiatus and eager to watch season 9 again. It is definitely a possibility and I could see it happening.

But part of me still thinks they will want to end this season on a happy note, so that's why I'm leaning into the direction of Bobby being revealed alive in 8x17 and coming back in 8x18.

Let's just hope that it's either of the above, because otherwise it means Bobby is really dead and I'll have to deal with that during hiatus. 😭

I don't follow you with the whole 'bringing in a big name actor' if Bobby is really dead. I think by now the show is well-established and the actors are all very popular. They still have enough star power to keep going without Peter/Bobby. They might promote Ravi to a main character though. We have seen a lot of him lately.

Yeah, I'll be honest with you. I don't get the fans that actually want the show to be cancelled or that are talking about how 'deserving' it will be for Tim when the show gets cancelled.

Personally, I didn't care for 8x14, hated 8x15 and felt 'meh' about 8x16, but that doesn't mean that I would want the show to get cancelled because of three bad episodes. Quite the contrary. I want the show to pull itself together and keep going strong for a few more seasons. I love it too much to see it get cancelled so soon.

(Now, I do think that ABC needs to sit Tim Minear down and have a looong chat with him about his vision for season 9. They also need to make sure that he stays focused and doesn't deviate too much from the path he set out in the beginning of the season. That man needs to realise that structure is important when you make a TV-show.)

Also, 911 is a big TV show that employs a lot of people. Anyone wishing for it to get cancelled is basically saying that they would be okay with so many people losing their job. And over what? The death of a fictional character? I'm sorry, but that is an insanely selfish thing to wish for. 🤷‍♀️

I'm a big fan of people having their own opinions and talking about these opinions. It's okay to love, like, dislike or even hate an episode or a TV-show. Talk about it, share your opinions and look for others who think the same or who think the opposite. That's all great. But stay respectful when it comes to the people whose jobs would be on the line if the show would come to an end.

Now, looking at the numbers the second Nonny provided and the ratings of the latest episode, it is crystal clear that things like IMDB ratings or even a few less views won't affect this show in any major way. So I agree that 911 is not going anywhere anytime soon. I'm also thinking about 2 or 3 more seasons at this point. Who knows? Maybe even more. 🤷‍♀️

I had no idea that Angela is producing 911 Nashville. Thanks for the info Nonny. I can see how that would definitely keep her in the 911 universe. Interesting.

[schleierkauz]

In case anyone is wondering why I've barely been posting since TCoR released, it's because I have filled up a journal with my thoughts on it, started translating the whole thing for fun and gotten into several heated discussions with irl friends. Until we've all read it I don't trust myself to be very active on here because if I end up being the person to accidentally spoil any of you I'd walk into the ocean.

[mod2amaryllis]

would like.. some weird thing that flips you move yhe baby? like those back stretching boards that tilt you back. idk much about babies

brother i am doing all that and more

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Ravi and Albert's Guide to Fake Not-Dating

It would be so easy, and Ravi was not looking to get any more involved in the 118 A-shift nonsense than he already was. It was sort of an unspoken rule he’d made with himself. He always showed up to the off-duty events he was invited to, usually large parties or station-wide outings, but that was more than enough for him. Just hearing about the drama his coworkers dealt with was more exhausting than regularly running into burning buildings and he had no interest in deliberately adding himself to the inner circle of rom-com-level bullshit that seemed to curse a select few members of the 118. He wasn’t about to tempt fate by dating his coworker’s formerly-estranged younger brother.

So, knowing all of that, he really should say no.

Read it on AO3

~~*~~

Average Hanikkar shipper: Hey wouldn’t it be funny if Ravi, the guy who famously wants nothing to do with the A-shift’s bullshit, accidentally fell in love with Chim’s brother and is super mad about it? Haha such a funny crack ship and the actors are both hot, we are having a great time.

Me, dropping a 50k word fic in the Hanikkar tag with no warning: Hey so what if Albert was a person who was so terrified of failing at anything that mattered to him that he would rather quit than fight as hard as he could and discover it wasn’t enough and what if Ravi was a person who had spent his entire life fighting just for the right to be alive but he was so tired he didn’t have any fight left in him but then they meet and fall in love and learn what it means to have something worth fighting for because even if you do fail you know it was worth trying, it was worth the possibility, it was worth giving yourself the chance.

People who follow me for Newsies content: Saf what the fuck is this, where did it come from, and when are you gonna finish your mini-bang fic?

[oxymoronicdumbass]

if i have to sit through one more conversation in which i have to listen to someone chirp about the benefits of AI, i am going to stab someone

[sp00ky-scary]

Does anyone with chronic pain know how the fuck you're supposed to cope with working like fast food and retail jobs because I can't take this shit anymore. When I started and was like "hey my feet and leg joints really fucking hurt after 5 hours of work" everyone was like "it'll get better you'll get used to it" IT GOT WORSE even 3 hours absolutely kills my joints even my shoulders are fucked now. I'll have like 3 days in a row where I have 5 hour shifts, not even like 8+ hours, and the time where I'm not getting to and from work or working is just spent in bed in pain and then I have to spend a day after to recover. Yesterday on my 3rd day of work I was in so much pain it triggered a migraine and I spent most of my shift with fucked up vision, being dizzy as fuck, and being 2 seconds away from vomiting I was in so much pain.

I'm only 19 I've only been working for 3 years how the fuck and I supposed to deal with this when it keeps getting worse. This ain't even touching on the hell that is being autistic and working in these environments, the chronic pain alone is enough to take me the fuck out.

[lesbiansanemi]

Currently trying not to vomit over the fact that I essentially just lost almost a thousand dollars brb

[hakusins]

(vent in the tags) me thinking i've finally escaped financial problems: :DDDDD

life:

[anotherpapercut]

the girlbossification of ruth bader ginsburg has to be one of the most just plain annoying aspects of white liberal feminism. like it's not as actively harmful as a lot of other shit obviously. but it is soooooo annoying. if I never see another notorious rbg tote bag as long as I live it will be too soon

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent images I suppose ~