#document processing specialist

[uniquesdata]

Significance of Document Processing for Banking and Finance Industry

The banking and financial sector generates a large amount of documents that are hard to manage. Document processing services ensure structured and organized management that results in positive outcomes. Read in detail about document processing for the banking and finance sector.

[chafahelps]

Mastering the Role: Clinical Documentation Specialist Training

In this episode, we explore the essential training and skills needed to become a Clinical Documentation Specialist (CDS). Discover how proper training can enhance accuracy in clinical documentation, improve patient care, and ensure compliance with healthcare regulations. We’ll discuss the key components of CDS training, including coding practices, healthcare regulations, and communication skills that bridge the gap between clinical staff and coding professionals. Tune in to learn how CDS professionals can elevate healthcare documentation standards and contribute to a facility’s success.

[hostajournal]

Our team of ISSN specialists is here to guide you through every step, from the application process to ongoing maintenance. We handle all the required documentation to ensure your ISSN registration is accurate and internationally compliant. #ISSNGuidance #AccurateRegistration #ComplianceManagement

[howdoesone]

How does one navigate the legal and regulatory frameworks specific to a region in architectural projects?

Navigating the legal and regulatory frameworks specific to a region is a crucial aspect of architectural projects. Architects and design professionals need to understand and comply with the legal requirements, building codes, and regulations that govern the construction industry in a particular region. This article explores the significance of navigating the legal and regulatory frameworks in…

[ayeforscotland]

What is Dataflow? Part 3: Doing the Practical

Apologies for the delay in getting this next section up - past few weeks have been super busy and then, hilariously, I was ill last week.

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

In Part 2 I wrote about how important diagrams have been throughout history. Understanding the 'big picture' has been important for every triumph of engineering. From bridges to skyscrapers to oil rigs and wind turbines, all of these have had diagrams backed by international standards which enabled them to be built.

The digital world hasn't quite managed that yet. In the other posts I've tried to drill home the point that modern digital businesses are often extremely siloed, communication and documentation isn't there and there is a lack of a common language between 'Business' and 'IT'.

This lack of understanding means organisations do not understand how data flows through their business and their supply chain.

It's the understanding of dataflow that's important here because it enables organisations to focus on optimising, securing and maintaining flows across an organisation rather than siloed teams patching things up where they can and not understand the upstream and downstream impact on the business.

Method and Layers

Going to preface this by saying that this may come across as complete common sense, and to some extent you'll be completely correct!

This is an example of how to create a very basic dataflow. But I will first start with understanding all of the People, Processes and Technology that I use to post on Tumblr.

So I start with six layers:

Ownership

Business Process

Application

System

Hardware

Infrastructure

What is important to remember here is that you do not have to be a specialist in every single layer.

A Business Analyst will feel much more at home in the Business Process Layer, while an Infrastructure Manager will be much more knowledgeable about the Infrastructure layer.

The important thing is that this Business & IT Diagram allows them to communicate more efficiently.

Let's Build a Dataflow!

In this example - There's an 'AyeforScotland' Element (the rectangle!) at the top. I'm the owner of everything below that element. The black lines are 'connections' representing the connectivity between the different elements.

Following the example, I'm responsible for' managing my blog 'Blog Management' which breaks down into smaller processes: Draft posts, schedule posts, answer anon abuse, and reblog shitposts.

Coming down to the Application Layer (red) - You can see that I draft and schedule posts using Tumblr Desktop and I'm using Firefox Web Browser for that.

But for answering anon abuse and reblogging shitposts, I'm using the Tumblr App.

In the Systems layer you can see I'm using Windows 11 on my PC (Hardware) and I'm using iOS on my iPhone.

Both my PC and iPhone connect to my BT Router.

And that's it for this Business & IT Diagram. I've shown clearly how I'm responsible for the processes and how I use the technology to perform those processes. I don't necessarily need to show everything on a single diagram because it would lose clarity.

This next Business & IT Diagram is much smaller, and establishes the relationships and dependencies on Tumblr to provide the service. And that's because we're complying with the laws and rules of a methodology.

In this diagram (probably need to zoom in to see it) I'm at the top left as 'AyeforScotland' and my 'BT Router' is spatially below me. Following the rules and laws of the method, that maintains the relationship that I have with the BT Router, I own it.

But I don't own the small 'Internet' that's next to it horizontally. I've simplified the concept of the internet for this example.

There's also two owners - 'Automattic' which owns and operates 'Tumblr' below it, with Tumblr being responsible for the 'Provision of Tumblr Services'.

Now naturally 'provision of Tumblr services' will break out into loads of sub-processes. Tumblr could map out their entire organisation (and if they need a hand, they can DM me!) But for this dataflow it's not really required.

Now both diagrams above are not dataflows. But close your eyes for a second and you can visualise what they are.

But because we've created our two diagrams, we understand the connectivity and using the software we can create the dataflow.

Now again, this is very basic. But when you put things into a dataflow context, you can put this down in front of a wide range of people from different business disciplines and they can start to optimise how the business works.

Here's a much larger Dataflow example, that you won't be able to read because it exceeds A0 printing size, but it should convey the scale.

If any of the connections or elements fail along this dataflow - The dataflow stops.

This costs organisations time and/or money.

So understanding dataflows allows IT people to articulate to business people "Hi boss, if this server goes down it will bring down this dataflow and cost the business $10,000 an hour" - Suddenly it's in a language they understand.

It helps with strategic decision-making, it helps with communication, it helps document how things *actually* work as opposed to how people think they work, and once you switch to thinking in terms of 'dataflow' it's hard to stop.

Conclusion

I can't wait to answer all the questions on the back of this.

Also one area I didn't go into is that each of the elements (rectangles) can also hold data (Financial data, Technical Specs, Risk & Cybersecurity metrics, Governance documentation etc).

It's also really easy to get started with it. You can start in any of the layers based on your area of work.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Kintsugi  金繕い [Spencer x Reader]

Photo credits Left (@mon-petit-coeur-noir) Center (@whoisspence) Right (@shakespearesdaughters)

Prompt: When the reader gets kidnapped for being friends with Spencer, she is mentally tormented to get back at Reid, and the reader and team, especially Spencer,  have to find a way to communicate before it’s too late for her to make it out alive. 

Pairing: Spencer x BAU-Fem!reader, Nerdy!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: angst/hurt/comfort [happy ending] 

Word Count: 15K

Content Warnings: Mention of death and sexual assault, mention of blood, mental torment [threat of assault, being unclothed, forced partial blindness - eyes glued open, forced partial deafness - loud music is played, degrading comments (reader)], physical harm [being cut with a knife, being put in a feezing unit, being beaten (reader)], distress, mentions of hospitals. If I missed any please let me know. 

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! If you are a student on Summer break I hope you are having fun and relaxing! As always, I return with a novel of a Spencer story. This story was requested by an Anon, thank you so much, and I hope you like it! I do throw in a few Star Trek and literary references in this fic, but I try and explain them well. My requests are open, so feel free to request a fic from me if you like anytime! I do want to encourage you to read the tags as this is a bit dark for me (though it has a happy ending). If you like this concept and would like to see part two of the reader’s healing process with Spencer, let me know. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/c/h = your color hair 

y/l/n = your last name 

t/c/s = tea/coffee/soda 

y/n’s head was pounding. It was throbbing with pain and the hard floor and air itself seemed frigid. y/n clutched her sides and rubbed. She was grateful that their clothes were still on. Given the unsub the team was dealing with, it wasn’t what y/n had expected. But then again, the man the BAU had been trying to find in the last week had been full of surprises. He didn’t fit the early profile the team had created, and now y/n was alone and scared, but she pulled together her strength and courage and opened her eyes. This was her job and she’d been doing it for a year. She’d seen team members taken, and harmed, and sometimes almost died, but if there was one thing y/n knew about the BAU, it was that they cared for each other. Everyone on the team would be looking for her. They wouldn’t leave a stone unturned until they found her. That was what had drawn y/n to the Unit in the first place. 

The BAU had done a joint operation with y/n’s Counterterrorism team where they were the unofficial data specialist and literary nerd. As soon as Derek had seen y/n and Reid together, he looked at Emily and said, “Well, this is going to be trouble,” to which both agents looked up and said in unison, “What?” It was during that case that Spencer had been in danger, and y/n was a bit too. Spencer had put himself in harm's way to ensure she was okay. Just seeing how the BAU responded with more than just professionalism, but also with care had sealed y/n into wanting a transfer. It wasn’t for another two years before that became a possibility. There was some issue with the documents that she had mailed to the Quanitco office, eventually, she sent fresh ones and drove them down herself. 

It was that knowledge, that the team was looking, at that filled y/n with warmth and shared determination. She opened her eyes and realized why she was so cold. From the looks of things, the white cement floor, the fluorescent lighting, and the crusted blood on the ground, y/n was in a meat packing plant. She sniffled and rubbed her shivering torso as she opened her eyes and sat up. There were conveyor belts on the far side of the wall, along with sharp meat hooks hanging from the ceiling. This setting would make sense given that the bodies of the three victims that had the team come down in the first place had seemed very fresh, even though they had passed a few weeks ago. The thought of the women and what the unsub had done to them and their bodies made y/n want to vomit. 

They had been killed excruciatingly. Not only had they been tortured, but they’d been assaulted as well. With this in mind, and possibly in her future, y/n moved away from the dried blood on the floor, not sure who or what it was from. y/n wondered how long the man kept his victims alive. The team had hypothesized that he was a sadist and loved long drawn out kills, to watch the victims suffer. The unsub had a type, and y/n fell into it. There was a sound at the far side of the room, and y/n moved to the center of the space. There was no point in cowering in the corner. She decided to face the unsub head-on. Show no fear, even if she was filled with it to the brim. The man’s outline filled the door making it unable for her to see him, but y/n knew that would change soon enough. 

As y/n waited to test wits with the man in front of her, the rest of the BAU, many miles away had set up a tent at the Kansas State Fair. Their team tent looked much less adorned than those of the food and game vendors with their bright colors and light. The satellite pop-up of the BAU and police presence were needed to gather information and vet the people leaving the fair since y/n had been taken. Their tent was on the far side of the fair. It would be unassuming if there weren’t loads of cops, police cars, state troopers cars, and a SWAT team all moving in and out of the space. Aaron and Rossi were heading up the operation and working through the bureaucratic tape and interdepartmental things that would otherwise slow the team down. There was a tension in the air that permeated each member of the BAU. It was palpable with all of them, but with Spencer, it was coming off him wave after wave. The lithe agent was with Emily and Derek, walking through the empty mirror house where y/n had been abducted. As Reid, Em, and Morgan move through each cranny and trick door for guests and employees. He caught his reflection in mirror after mirror and it all felt like a sick joke. Reid was absorbed in his own reflection for a moment before he heard Derek’s voice cut through his brain fog. Spencer snapped up and moved toward his friend's voice. Emily and Morgan were kneeling down next to an employee entrance. Reid was upset and angry, and the sight of a blood stain on the bright floor along with a few strands of y/n’s y/c/h should have made him feel good, but the blood only meant that y/n was already hurt, and probably being hurt more at this point made his stomach churn. 

Emily looked at Spencer’s serious face and re-asked “Can we get a blood sample vial, Spence?” The question finally registered with Reid and he replied sharply, “I’ll do it. Can you just step aside a bit?” Derek’s brow furrowed. He knew that Spencer had a thing for y/n. Everyone on the team did except, infuriatingly, the pining agents themselves. But that didn’t give Spencer a reason to be hot at them. Morgan replied, “Easy Spence. We’re doing everything we can.” Spencer couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Well not enough to keep her safe when she was with you both.” At that statement, both Prentiss and Derek stood and looked at Spencer disappointingly, like a child who had said a naughty word they had been told not to say. They both moved back and their physical reactions made Spencer drop his head in shame. He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes, and said to the floor, “I’m sorry.” He was trying to hold back all the emotions. Emotions he often didn’t let himself feel. He looked up at his friends and continued, “I’m sorry. I… I don’t think I know how to deal with this. I know it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything, and you both care about y/n as much as I do. I let my emotions get away from me.” 

Morgan and Emily looked at each other as Reid said that they both liked y/n as much as he did, knowing it wasn’t true. Yes, they both loved y/n, but not like Spencer, and that realization justified Reid's words for them. They both moved forward. Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a firm squeeze, and said, “It’s okay, kid. Now, have you got that vial Em needs?” Reid released a relieved breath, pulled a sample kit out of his shoulder bag, and handed it over to Emily who was back on her knees near the evidence. As she began taking the sample, Morgan and Spencer moved down the narrow trap door to see where it led and to see if there were more clues about the unsub or y/n’s location. 

As the duo moved down the narrow hallway, it became apparent that y/n must have been unconscious or tightly bound as she was being taken away by the unsub. There would have been more of a struggle on y/n’s part if she’d been awake or free, but none of the boxes or supplies for the House of Mirrors seemed to be broken or messed up. Derek didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing, and Reid’s mind was moving too fast, even he couldn’t keep up with it. He knew the team needed to find all of the physical evidence first, to vet the guests and vendors that were leaving for information, but that could be a slow process and all Spener wanted to do was use his full brain power to think about the victimology, update the profile, make a map pinpointing the locations of the victims, but this process had to be done first. The team was a member short, and they all knew the police weren’t helpful in situations like this, so Reid sucked it up and kept moving beside Morgan, trying desperately to still his brain for once. 

Back in the freezer, y/n looked as the mountain of a man came into view. He looked disheveled and red-faced. He wore jeans and a button-down T-shirt. y/n looked at him. She wanted him to make the first move, to understand him better -- his ticks, any weaknesses he had. Anything she could use against him. Force wasn’t an option right now, but she had her mind, and that was worth a lot. The unsub grinned and said, “This will be fun. You’re prettier than I expected. That look of fear on your face, he’s going to love that.” y/n swallowed and replied, “‘He?’ Don’t you mean you. You’re the one taking and killing the woman. And thanks for the compliment.” The man chuckled and said, “You have a mouth on you alright, just like I expected. Of course, he’d like you the little bitch. And who he is doesn’t matter. For now at least. But it will be fun. Not for you of course, but for me it will be. I’ll get so, so very much pleasure from you. I just didn’t expect you to be so cute. It’s a shame, really.” 

y/n frowned. She couldn’t tell if this was dissociation or multiple personalities, but the constant mention of her looks and another person was odd. There hadn’t been any signs of a second unsub, nor was there any other DNA evidence on the victims. As the man made a fast step toward y/n, she moved away from him. This only had the unsub smile and laugh as he moved toward y/n again and said, “You can’t run away from me little bird. You’re only going to make it worse on yourself.” y/n stopped at that. y/n stopped immediately. She swallowed thickly. If she was someone else, like Hotch, Morgan, or Spencer who had the presence and size to act brave in a physical altercation she would bluster and make herself big and threatening. But y/n wasn’t them and didn’t take risks like they did. Firstly, because even y/n assumed Morgan would be physically intimidated by the man’s size and bulk, secondly, y/n was still new to the BAU. Not that she hadn’t picked things up quickly or was good at the job, but it was still more difficult for her to pick up small tells or things like Reid or Emily could. Plus, it wouldn’t help her in signaling the team in some way if the first thing that happened to her was to be fully incapacitated. 

The unsub noticed her submissive posture and liked it saying, “That’s it little bird, now I need you to get out of your things.” y/n looked up at him, biting her lip asking, “Why? What happened to the bird when it gets defeathered, defrocked?” y/n knew what to expect next, assault was part of this man’s MO and if she could postpone that, she sure as hell would. The man laughed again, harsh and cruel, like he was in on a joke that she wasn’t. The man replied, “I’m not going to break you like the others. I could, and I will if you give me too much bratty attitude, but that’s not the plan. All of that other shit with the women and how I treated them, that was to get your attention. Their attention. And I don't think physically breaking you would hurt him either, but don’t test me. However, for now, just take off your clothes and I won’t touch you, that way.” 

y/n didn’t look forward to being undressed in front of anyone. It was uncomfortable for her to be vulnerable with their body like that, even with close friends like Penelope and JJ. In fact, a memory of Emily trying to get her to buy a more revealing swimsuit for the summer popped into her mind and the coaxing it took for y/n to finally buy and wear the skimpy swimwear. Of course, Spencer’s attempt to not look over her body with rapt attention had made the discomfort worth it. When the unsub grabbed at her shirt, y/n began undoing the button of her shirt. It took longer than she expected as her hands shook with cold and fear. y/n expected the man to ask her to move faster, but he didn’t. Again, he seemed to have a sick enjoyment of watching her cower. y/n took this opportunity to think and think fast. The man had said he was trying to get the team's attention. Not only the team’s attention but ‘his’ attention. So that narrowed it down to four people. That was something to go off of. Second, this unsub was someone y/n would have remembered if she’d dealt with him before, but she didn’t, so he was someone from before her time. This was some kind of lesson. There was only a small glimmer of hope that y/n had for her health, both physical and mental because if the unsub wanted to break a member of the team through her, it was going to take more than just taking them captive and keeping them in a poorly regulated freezing unit. 

At this point, y/n was down to her undergarments, and she wondered how pushing the man would be. How quickly he would react, and with how much force? There was only one way of finding out, and she intended to know this early on. This way she could better gauge her actions and submissiveness. If that turned out to be a thing he liked, then she could use it as a small way of gaining control later. So y/n stopped when she stepped out of her pants, and the man quickly changed his demeanor saying, “Don’t stop now. I may not be interested in you, but I know he is, and it’s no good if we’re keeping this at a PG-13, scary movie rating. I need this to be the unrated version birdie, so get out of those panties and bra.” y/n now knew that the man’s emotions were volatile and could change on a dime. That was all she needed to know to get out of her last things. The cold chilled y/n further now that she was nude. 

y/n couldn’t stop herself as she moved her hands to cover her nudity. The unsub bent down not even noticing her discomfort as he picked up her undergarments and examined them to an odd degree muttering, “Do you think he knows you match your bra to your panties? Because he will soon enough.” y/n stepped back, slowly onto one of the patches of dried blood which made y/n cringe. The serious ‘he’ was back and the expression of rage on the man’s face was so intense that y/n wanted to run to the door to try and escape. Whatever this man who had supposedly wronged the unsub, there was a vitriolic rage for him simmering underneath the surface. Before y/n even had the chance to fully think through making a run for it, the man stood up and whipped his hand over y/n’s face so hard that the blow threw her back and into one of the metal supports of the conveyor belts. 

The pain in the side of y/n’s face shocked her into stillness as her jaw clicked oddly and she grunted in pain. Again, before y/n could react, the unsub was on her again. He kicked her torso, legs, and face with the steel tips of his boots breaking the skin every time another blow landed on her prone body. Along with the damage to her front, every time the man’s foot met y/n’s bare flesh, her back was pushed back and harder into the sharp corner of the convey belt. y/n quickly figured out that the unsub was being fast and efficient. When she looked up at his face, he seemed bored as he landed each kick. There was a callous disinterest in what he was doing. He seemed to not be affected at all by what was happening to his victim. Due to this y/n began planning accordingly. Shifting her position slightly so the blows landed on a more padded part of her body, and along with giving her lower back a break by shifting the hits to her lower shoulders, this meant her breasts getting hit, which was not pleasant in the least, but it was somewhere new, and somewhere padded by a bit more. 

y/n felt jostled to the core and rattled to the bone. The pain she was experiencing was blinding and she couldn’t think about much more than trying to protect her face and groin, both of which got hit anyway. What felt like an eternity’s worth of blows ended as soon as it began, and all y/n could do was lie on the ground and grit her teeth against the pain. Her attempt to stay strong physically and mentally was already being tested, but she refused to lick her wounds in front of her captor. If this was about being broken, then she wasn’t yet. The unsub knelt with a grunt and jerked y/n’s face up and into the light, looking at the bruising on her face examining her like a piece of meat for consumption. Something about her battered appearance didn’t suit his liking and he said like a painter finishing a masterpiece, “Just a bit more, right there.” His large stubby pointer finger gesticulated at her lower face and he gripped her hair more tightly and rammed her head onto the floor splitting her lip and jarring her jaw again. 

With that, the man dropped y/n’s face, stood, and walked straight out of the room. Just for the fun of it, he kept the door open for three minutes as he watched y/n turn onto her side to find any place that was comfortable enough to breathe. y/n looked at the open door and the look of delight on the man’s face as he stood by the entrance, and y/n realized that this was going to be her form of torment, an option in view but not accessible. When the large metal door finally swung shut and was locked from the outside, y/n closed her eyes and tried to use her brain. There would be time to assess her physical damage later, for now, she could use one thing that she had. She made mental notes: that the unsub walked with a limp, that he had a New York accent, that he wasn’t over fifty years old. He also had a large size footprint to match his large stature. He also had a mermaid tattoo on his left ankle. Next, she thought about his mental patterns. He was volatile and not afraid to cause harm, but he took no pleasure in doing so to her. It was about a certain result. He had also said that he had only killed those other women, and eviscerated them, to get a man on the team's attention. y/n could work with that. Try and use that to her advantage. If only she could find out who the man was. As the pain took y/n over, and her brain shut down to the basic feeling of hurt and cold, y/n’s mind turned to Spencer. How I must have looked at the moment. Stressed, tired, on edge. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, even if it was for her. She wished she could pull him into a hug and say “It’s alright Spence. I’m holding on. I promise.” The last sentence would stay silent, but he’d know. Because he always knew her. And with that thought, y/n closed her eyes, curled in on herself, and attempted to rest. 

The night was not pleasant for anyone but the unsub. But even Moore Eiarty, the unsub, was worried that his plan wouldn’t succeed, That he couldn’t break the genius of Spencer Reid. But all the pieces were finally in place, and now it was time to play. As the team finally got through vetting the people in the park, they got back to work. The main thing they had to go off of was that one of the performers, the Giant Man, was missing. He’d been added last minute to the tour and there had barely been time to get his paperwork in order before the Kansas Fair began. And it wasn’t until that evening that they discovered that the man, Mr. M. Earity, had very well-forged documents. Not just one, but all of them. That gave Penelope a lot to work on while the team took the angle of victimology and reworked the profile. The BAU had moved back to the police precinct except for Derek and Rossi. Spencer knew that Morgan was taking this especially hard because y/n had been taken while she was with him, but Spence’s head was too full of ideas and concerns to worry about how the others felt right now. 

Aaron watched the team do what the team did. Perhaps they were working a bit more hectically than normal, but this was one of their own on the line and Hotch would rather die before he stopped working to get y/n back. As he looked at Spencer, writing on over seven whiteboards with three coffees on the table, he considered that Reid might also die if they didn’t find y/n soon. That thought sat with the Unit Chief, and he tucked it in the back of his mind for later. This felt especially pertinent to this case, though he didn’t know why yet. Nothing much came in terms of developments for a few hours. JJ released a statement for the press, Derek and Rossi returned to the team, and the Fair was shut down for legal safety. The tip line ran nonstop and everyone felt the weight of time. It wasn’t until 3:00 AM that the first real forward momentum was given to the team, and target to Spencer specifically. 

It came in the form of an email from an unlisted account. It was labeled Urgent Dr. Reid - Re:y/n, y/l/n. Spencer looked at the email and decided to open it. He was tired, and his brain was beginning to numb at all the stimuli that were assaulting his mind. What he saw once he opened that email made him drop his coffee and whip his hand over his mouth in horror. Aaron and Emily were in the room with Spencer, and they both noticed their colleague’s distress. Prentiss moved to Reid’s side and looked at the laptop as well. Her mouth went slack and she whispered, “Oh my God. H-hotch…” It didn’t take Aaron more than four strides to see what had both of these friends looking like they were going to be sick. As soon as he saw the first picture of y/n, naked, heavily bruised and bloody, and head down he knew why Reid and Em had reacted as they had. y/n’s hands were forced above her head with zip ties and strung to a hook hanging from the ceiling. The position she was in had her knees barely brushing the floor which meant that all of her weight was in her wrists, elbows, and shoulders.

y/n wore a pained expression, and Hotch’s eyes darted up for a second out of proprietary. He didn’t want to have to see y/n undressed. To be forced into such a humiliating position and know others, people she trusted, would see it made Aaron pause. It hurt. He composed himself and said as professionally as he could, “We need this on the big screen. Em, can you get on that? Reid, is there any text in the body?” Prentiss and Spencer came back to themselves, though it took Spence a moment longer, and they registered their Leader’s questions. Emily nodded and moved to pull down the projector in the room and pushed some of the whiteboards Reid had been using aside; meanwhile, Reid scrolled past the 25 attached photos to where there was some text. He read it in a millisecond and said, “Yes there is. I’ll get Gacia on Zoom while you get the rest of the team in here.” Hotch nodded and took one more second to look at Spencer to see if he was okay. This was targeted at him, which was both a good and a bad thing, but right now, the smartest member of the team looked determined to get to the bottom of this, so Hotch moved to the door to get everyone else into the conference room. 

After the team looked at all of the photos and the attached email, they split into smaller sub-groups to work more efficiently. Aaron and Emily agreed to look at all of the images with a more critical eye. They would break down every angle and shot and bruise on y/n’s body. The one positive thing that the pictures did show was that y/n was alive. Or at least she had been, and given the unsub’s propensity to draw out his kills, there was a good chance that y/n was still alive. The time stamp on the email had been from only a half hour ago and didn’t appear altered. Hotch assigned Spencer and JJ to look at the body of the email. He gave this task to Spencer so he could do something he excelled at. He was the best linguist and forensic document analyst in the FBI after all. JJ was also excellent at identifying patterns in writing and could help Spencer. It also gave Reid an out for not having to look at y/n’s prone and exposed body. 

Aaron as the leader took that burden of looking at y/n with Emily because Prentiss was also very good at compartmentalizing her emotions related to her friendships and the job. Derek was working with Garcia, who was on overdrive to find the source of the email and pin down a location along with about ten thousand other things. She’d gone as far as calling in Janet, another Technical analyst at Quantico to come and help her because two computer processors and brains were always better than one. Lastly, Rossi coordinated with the police on-the-ground operation of searching for y/n. Even though a lot of moving pieces were happening at the same time, the BAU did what it always did -- work with excellence and as a team. Aaron looked at his team for a moment, proud of them. He was worried about Spencer, who was more on edge than normal. Hotch turned his eyes back to the screen, he’d check in on the genius in a few hours, for now, he had a difficult job to do. 

After a few hours that slipped by like grains of sand in an open palm, the team had discovered a few things. The first thing that Spencer and JJ broke down was the email which read: 

I have waited for a long time to get this opportunity. While I have watched you all, the most famous and infamous team in the FBI, I have been looking at one of you in particular. I wonder if you know who you are yet? Let me give you a hint. Last I saw you, you were just a child not even weaned on crimes or violence. Do you know now? Estranged from your friend, I wonder if you’re floundering like I have been before because of you. Sorry if this is all a bit obtuse, but this is fun, and I’m going to draw it out for you. Try not to get too excited yet, the best is yet to come. Rest assured that your friend will face the consequences of knowing you so well. Only when I see you so ruined as I have been ruined will I be happy. Yesterday you were so determined to catch me, do you feel that way now, or are you feeling the fear in your veins? You can find me eventually, but not before I find you. Other things may happen too. Under my control, I may make y/n do anything I want. Don’t worry though, I don’t have plans like I had for the others, this is different. Ready now. Ready now. Enough of waiting for you, and this moment. I’d start praying for y/n, and you, my friend. Dare we should meet in person and you’ll see what I’ve done to her and you’ll finally taste my revenge. 

It didn’t take Spencer more than a minute to read the ‘secret message of’ I will destroy you, Dr. Reid, in the unsubs email. He almost laughed at the grandiose nature of the writing. JJ then pointed out that y/n wasn’t even mentioned until the end of the rambling message. This told the team that this kidnapping was all about Spencer, as it was clear from the email, and had little to do with y/n. That y/n was being used as a tool to get at Reid. Of course, the pictures of y/n who was bruised heavily all over her body, showed that the unsub was still willing to inflict serious bodily harm on her. But this fact made Emily and JJ feel slightly better. 

Spencer had come up with at least seventeen facts, grammatical patterns, and hints at a personality based on egomania. After Reid had said about five of them in the span of a few minutes, Derek gave him a look and Spencer stopped talking. Aaron and Emily then broke down the patterns of bruising and how the depth of the day-old bruising was likely from one sustained moment in time. That there didn’t seem to be layer upon layer of bruising on y/n’s body. Also, from the look of it, there didn’t seem to be any sign of sexual assault. Hotch had caught onto the dark red-rimmed circles under y/n’s eyes, indicating that she hadn’t slept much if at all since she had been taken nearly twenty-four hours ago. It was also pretty easy for Aaron to tell that y/n was being kept in some kind of industrial freezing unit. This was concerning as staying anytime long-term in such a cold space could lead to frostbite and long-term nerve damage. 

After the team had gone through the information and made a start at a new profile that focused mostly on the unsubs' hatred for Spencer, this put even more pressure on Spence. The rest of the team took a small break to just breathe or step outside or get a drink of the bad coffee from the office breakroom, Reid stayed behind and furiously wrote in his notepad and looked at the photos of y/n while biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he broke the soft pink skin. Spencer turned off the bright light to let his eyes and at least his occipital cortex have a break. The rest of his body was working pell mill. Derek moved back to the room ten minutes later and Spencer was leaning, his hands forward, and head bowed toward the wooden table. He looked like he might collapse. Morgan could see his friend’s outline backlit against the brightness of the screen. He looked frailer than normal, skinnier than his usual tall body. Derek knew this was hard for Spencer because it was y/n who had been taken, and it was because of him. Even if Spencer hadn’t realized he had feelings for y/n yet, he still felt the weight of what was happening to her because of him. Morgan entered the room with a cup of coffee and said gently, “Spencer, I brought you some coffee.” Reid hummed softly like he hadn’t really heard Morgan and Derek said, “Reid,” a bit louder. Spencer’s head shot up and toward Derek and his hands gripped the side of the table harder, knuckles turning white. Spencer snapped a “What?” at Morgan before taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders. Morgan didn’t mind Spence’s tone now. It made sense. 

Derek moved into the room and said, “I brought you some coffee. Maybe we could step outside for a minute? Get some fresh air?” Reid dropped his head again and he said mournfully, “I can’t rest right now. I have to figure out who has y/n.  I don’t know who the unsub is, but they know me and I don’t want y/n to have to pay the price for that.” Derek sighed and replied, “Spence, y/n would never blame you for being her friend, for being someone special to her.” Reid sniffled and replied, “She won’t thank me if she’s dead and neither will I.” Spencer’s voice broke off halfway through his last sentence. Morgan stepped forward and placed his hand on Reid’s shoulder. He gave is a gentle squeeze and replied, “Well thinking like that isn’t going to save her. And you need that super processor of a brain of yours to cool off before it shuts down on it’s own. And y/n is a tough cookie, she’s going to make it Reid. If there’s anyone who can find her, it’s you. And if you start letting this guy get to your head, then he’s already won. And we don’t let fuckers like that win. I know y/n sure as shit won’t thank you for that. Now let's go outside.” Spence allowed himself to be led out of the dark room, and Morgan closed the door behind them. 

y/n was beyond tired, she dozed off on and off as she lay in the corner of the room. She was too sore to move around. She did take a look at her surroundings every time she woke abruptly from an unknown sound. She’d look for the man who called himself Mr. M., or to shift from side to side to try and increase her circulation and shift the pain to a new place if that was possible. Much to Mr. M.’s credit, he didn’t seem to enjoy stringing y/n up to the ceiling and he’d taken her down as soon he’d finished taking what seemed like an endless stream of photos. He’d positioned her more like a clay statue looking at angles and composition than as if she was a human in pain. This gave y/n an indication that he might be a sociopath given that he seemed immune to her pained sounds as he adjusted her body again and again. He’d muttered “He’s going to love these. To see what I’ve made of you so far.” y/n opted to stay silent. To see if she could get any more information from the man, but he didn’t do much more than complain about the lighting and make comments about the ‘he’ in question. y/n highly considered that the male member of the team could be Rossi or Aaron, whom Mr. M was muttering on about. M seemed to address this person with such dignified authority that would fit those two people on the team. But that didn’t make sense, as y/n didn’t think Hotch or Rossi held her in any higher standard than the rest of the BAU. Yes, she respected Aaron as a leader and he respected her back. And surely he was beating himself up for not looking out for her, but it didn’t seem to fit with the rage that M felt toward this person. 

It seemed even more outlandish for the ‘he’ to be Rossi. Rossi was like a father figure to y/n. He had helped her really learn the ropes of the team and cases. Especially the paperwork after a case was finished, but if Mr. M wanted to hurt Rossi, he’d surely know to find one of his Ex-wives or someone closer to Dave. It was the odd reverence that the unsub continued using that threw y/n off of the real person he was targeting. The next interaction that y/n had with the man would clear things up for her significantly, and give her an option to use her brain to help the team find her. 

Mr. M came back sooner than y/n had wished. Her exhaustion and numbness made not only her body weak but her brain slow. When she saw that he was holding her underwear and a knife, she sat up and crawled back against the wall clumsily, not liking that combination of objects together. The man snorted and said, “Trying to fly away bird, I’m going to clip your wings if you do that too much. Then you won’t be able to run, ever.” y/n slowed her movements,  not willing to test the huge man in front of her. y/n swallowed thickly and looked from Mr. M.’s passive face to his hands holding the mismatched objects. The intimate and the violent. The man watched her eyes,  tracked their movements, and when he saw where they landed he genuinely laughed and said, “I told you before, I didn’t like doing those things to those girls. It was to make a point. Touching people intimately is my least favorite idea of a ‘good time.’ I just plan on making him think I’ve had you that way. Send him a little surprise gift and watch as he tries to process his loss of that part of you.” Somehow this response baffled y/n’s sleepless brain even more. Who the hell on the team wouldn’t be upset if she got assaulted in that way? If fact y/n could imagine each member of the team taking Mr. M out in rather lurid ways. It was stupid, but it gave y/n comfort and she even smiled softly at the thought of Derek beating the man up, or Spencer setting some kind of trap of wits for him. M. saw her happy look, and struck her face with the back of his fist, now only a foot from her body. He sneered and said, “‘he’ won’t be as happy as you are right now when he gets our present.” M grabbed her left arm, placed the tip of the knife on her forearm, and pressed it into her skin. The man drew a line down her wrist. 

The red liquid bubbled up and out of the wound like a stream. The cold of the freezer numbed the pain a bit. In fact, the feeling of the hot blood dripping down y/n’s arm was warming and she would have spread it over her arm if she was just a bit more tired. However, she didn’t have the chance as M grabbed her arm in a vice grip, and with his other hand, grabbed her panties. He ran the crotch of her undergarments over her fresh cut, spreading blood over the inside seam. He then dropped them to the ground and turned her arm over. He pinched at the wound, causing the bleeding to increase and easing large red droplets onto her already-soiled underwear. 

y/n felt disgusted at being used this way and said to fill in the oppressive silence, “I don’t think Derek will find this appalling, mainly he’d going to think it’s gross as fuck.” y/n hadn’t really meant Morgan, she’d just said the first name that popped into her head. As tough as Derek was, he wasn’t great with blood, just like Gracia. The slip was the best thing y/n could do as M dropped her arm and looked at her like she’d grown a second head. He shook his head and said, “Lord, and I thought ‘he’ liked you for your brain. It seems you may not have one up there. Dr. Reid is who I am referring to bird. Not agent Morgan. Derek couldn’t figure this out if you put all the pieces in front of him on a board.” 

y/n was astonished for a moment. Not only at the apparent racism of Mr M. but his other statement as well:  Spencer! This was about Spencer! How the hell this guy knew and had been wronged by her best friend on the team was beyond her. Certainly, Reid would have told her about him if they’d had run-ins in the past. They spent so much time together that they basically knew everything about each other. The weariness and pain were starting to get to y/n and she muttered as she closed her eyes, “Why would Spence care about this, he’s seen me on my period before. He’s gotten my sanitary products before, hell I bitch at him when I get cramps, and he takes it.” M stopped looking at the work of art which was y/n’s blood-soaked underwear and said, “You really are hopeless. And I don’t see the appeal to the good Doctor. He’s in love with you and you can’t even see it. Hopeless bird, I’ll take care of that though. You won’t have to think for much longer.” The vitality that y/n had been lacking came back in a rush of heat as M said that Spencer was in love with her. y/n sat up and took her injured arm and cradled it to her chest. The pain finally registered in her synapses. She let out a prolonged breath and said. “You think Spencer is in love with me? That’s a bit of a stretch.” y/n knew in the back of her mind that this might get her hurt more, or killed, but she was finally getting answers and perhaps if she had more answers she could do something with that. Actually use her brain, which the unsub had insulted she didn’t. 

M sighed and replied as if this was a normal conversation, “Bird, the data adds up. Dr. Reid puts himself in forty-three percent more danger when you are in a dangerous postion on a case. He puts himself in the line of fire for you over and over. At least five times by the records I’ve seen. Not only that, the chronically lonely young man who shuns women’s attention chooses to spend time with you above his other friends, even the likes of Morgan or Penelope. If that’s not the start of a crush, then I don’t know what is.” y/n looked up at the man with awe. Not so much at his intellectual prowess that he seemed to think he had, but at how stupid he sounded. Perhaps, maybe, maybe, there were some more feelings between y/n and Spencrs than friendship, but the other things he said were just crap. His use of statistics, and characterizing Reid as a lonely hermit was laughable. However, y/n was more aware than ever now, and this time she kept their mouth shut. She knew that saying those things out loud might likely get her knifed to death, and although the current situation was far from comfortable, she didn’t fancy dying. M hadn’t broken her yet, and now she was more determined than ever to live through this moment. 

The unsub noted that y/n had calmed down slightly and said, “I’ll be back shortly. I can’t let you or him rest too often now. I need to pick up the pace, but I need to send this little gift his way. Any loving words you want to tell him with my little letter? Perhaps it will give the Doctor some comfort.” The man said it sardonically, but y/n pulled herself together and tried to do her best acting and used a sorrowful tone as she said, “Tell him I’m sad it was my first time like this. I’d wished that we’d done it in Tanagra when we had the chance, but he knew I wasn’t ready. I won’t be ready.” y/n let the words slip off her tongue like she’d said them with a longing sadness and it put M at unease to see the odd shift in emotions; however, he shrugged his shoulders and replied cooly, “I’ll be sure to relay your sentiments.” 

Once the man had left the room with the knife, y/n lay back exhausted. The unsub had said he’d be back shortly, but maybe he was playing a game and he’d just leave her there to rot or starve. Either way, y/n needed to use this renewed time to think, and not just about the fact that she was trying to come to terms with the fact that she might love Spencer more than she’d allowed herself to do before. She needed to leverage this situation and not let those feelings overwhelm her. She’d already hopefully set one clue and one trap, she’d just need a bit more information to let the trap work. She pondered these things as she rubbed her skin which was slowly losing sensation as the minutes ticked by. 

When the package arrived at the precinct, the team was more prepared for it this time. The police stopped the carrier to ask him a plethora of questions while the team opened the box with some apprehension. Emily took on the role of the person who opened the box. Given the nasty surprise of the pictures of y/n in a state of complete undress in the first contact with the unsub, nobody wanted Spencer to get that kind of a shock again, even if the box was addressed to him alone. Inside the well-packaged cardboard parcel was a letter which Prentiss handed over to Morgan and then she pulled aside a good deal more pink tissue paper than was needed for the pair of underwear in the box. It took Emily and the team a moment to realize what they were given the blood had caked and dried, wrinkling the thin fabric into a distorted blob shape. The team looked at the item not so much with disdain as confusion. Some members of the BAU, JJ, Emily, and Penelope, had seen y/n in her underthings when they shared rooms in a busy hotel, but none of them, especially not Spencer, could immediately identify that they were y/n’s panties until M stated that directly, and implied that he’d done to y/n what he’d done to all his other victims before slowly killing them. 

This information did seem to shock and horrify the team until Derek read this part of the letter aloud with a hint of awkwardness, “And the little bird has a song for the doctor ‘I’m sorry that this was my first time, and that she wishes you had both done it in Tanagra.’ How unfortunate for both of you that that wasn’t the case…” Spencer cut Derek off before he could go into more grotesque details from the letter about what the unsub had done to y/n by saying, “Wait, wait, say that again.” Morgan paused and the team looked at Reid with questioning expressions. Derek repeated the last sentence, and Reid let out a soft breath in relief as he confidently said, “He didn’t touch her,” then under his breath, “thank God.” The BAU was more baffled than ever, and JJ looked over at the soiled underwear now back in the box getting ready for processing by the forensics lab. With hesitation, JJ replied, “Spencer, y/n’s underwear is telling a different story, as does the bruising on her body” 

The team was at a loss for what to think. y/n had been a reserved person far before she joined the team, and the reference that she might have had sex with Spencer, or wanted to have sex with Reid was not totally a shock, given that the BAU knew the two agents were in love, even if they didn’t. But for her to state it like that either showed signs of mental duress or something of that nature. It was just incredibly out of character for her to say anything like that to anyone, even the women on the team. Reid’s response was even more shocking as he said, “y/n’s had plenty of sex. She’s been in a lot of relationships before, so why would she say this was her ‘first time.’ That doesn’t make any sense. Also, I think she would have singled out something more extreme if she had been hurt in that way. It’s all too faux intellectual.” The team stood in stunned silence for a moment before Derek said, “And you and y/n talk about your sex lives often?” 

Spencer flushed at the intrusive question, realizing that he was putting a lot out there about his and y/n’s friendship. Things they may not have shared with other members of the team and kept between themselves. But this was a case where revealing some private details could save y/n’s life, and Spencer would rather die than lose y/n, so he replied steadily, “Yes. Sometimes. When we hang out we talk about our relationships. Why they worked or didn’t? How we’re, different.” Spence omitted the line, “How we can be hard to love.” He meant it more for himself than y/n, even though she echoed that sentiment whenever he brought it up. Spence never really got that. When they’d lay sprawled out under a blanket arguing about the symbolism in Dr. Who, or what the best adaptation of Jane Austen was, he felt like loving y/n would be the easiest thing in the world. Of course, he’d never said that to her either. The team was still silent when Reid came back from his internal journey and Hotch, who most of the time came forward and realized patterns and trends asked, “And Tanagra? Is it a small island or something? I’ve never heard of it before.” Spencer’s eyes moved up and he said, “It’s a reference to an episode of Star Trek we both like called ‘Darmok.’” The team looked at Reid for further clarification because, unlike Spencer and y/n, they didn’t go on overnight watches of Star Trek the Next Generation. 

Again, Reid reddened but patiently explained, “In the episode Captain Picard gets sent to a planet without any weapons. There’s another alien there as well. The Enterprise crew thinks it is some sort of setup, as does Captain Picard. But as it turns out, Picard and the alien, Dathon, need to come together to fight a common enemy. They end up beating the enemy, but Dathon dies. The moral is that they had to find understanding to become united, not only as fighters but as a species.” After Reid quickly gave his recap highlighting the plot and moral of the episode, the team, with the new information seemed to be revitalized, and put at ease. It was just a sliver of hope because y/n had managed to gain some way of communicating with them. Aaron cleared his throat and said, “Alright, Reid, and you Morgan take the letter. If y/n is sending any other covert messages then you should be able to find them.” Hotch felt the weight of pressure from this case on his shoulders and raised a hand to his forehead closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Rossi saw his friend's distress and continued the conversation, “Aaron and I will go and check some of the places Garcia flagged as potential locations that y/n could be kept. JJ, you and Emily accompany the forensics team and get us the information once they have some, stat. Is that really y/n’s blood, are there any toxins present, all that? Okay?” Everyone nodded. Now that they all had a direction to go and a specific task to do, it felt more manageable. 

Despite the bright light and thanks to sheer exhaustion, y/n had managed to get a few hours of sleep at some point after being cut by M. She woke with the sound of the door opening. y/n had lost all track of time at this point. There were no windows to tell if it was night or day, and her circadian rhythms were off. Logically y/n knew that it couldn’t have been more than a few days, but at this point, it felt like a week at least. The constant stress, hunger thirst, and cold had drained her so much that she struggled to get up to a seated position to see what her captor was doing this time. M seemed uninterested in y/n, but he did glance at her, the door, and then at her again, as if taunting, “Try me.” The man had brought in a bigger load of items this time. Thanks to his size and strength, he could hold multiple trash bags and a backpack which he could handle all in one trip.

y/n watched M with apprehension and fear as he pulled out a multitude of lights and stands. M set up the lights like a makeup influencer might. M set what looked like extra bright lights in a square formation only a few feet off the ground. y/n bit her lip. If the man was planning on filming something, mainly her, she would be so close to the ground that it would be uncomfortable for him to have to lean down like that. The setup seemed to make no sense, and y/n didn’t like that. In interrogation training, she, along with new FBI agents, were instructed to mentally prepare for what was going to happen to them to better not spill state secrets. However, in this scenario, she couldn’t guess what would happen and it really wasn’t about her. It was about what her deteriorating mental and physical state would do to Spencer. She was important to the extent that she was important to Spencer. 

The unsubs plan became clear as he pulled out a makeshift stand that looked like a prop from a horror film where someone’s eyes get removed. The stand, which M set down and then slotted the wooden frame into was so heavy that even he grunted as he set it down with a loud clanking sound on the floor. y/n closed her eyes and began trying to move away and toward the exit. But y/n wasn’t fast enough. She felt like she was running in knee-deep water as she moved and was quickly grabbed by the hair and pulled to the center of the room. y/n muttered, “Please no, please…” Her cries fell on deaf ears as M bound her hands to the rough wooden post with zip ties so tight that they felt like the plastic was cutting into her wrists. y/n dipped her head down but it was jerked up again as M set her chin on a portion of wood with a cut out for her chin. Just close enough to the skin of her neck was a sharp piece of metal that would slice at her jaw and chin if she tried to move her head; effectively keeping it in place as the unsub lowered a heavy plate for her head and secured it with screws on either side of her face like a vice. When the lights were turned on they were so bright that y/n tried to pull her head back but was stopped by her constraints. Even with her eyes closed the light was searing hot into her retinas and there was no espacing it. Even though the light was bright, y/n took this time to try and pry more information from the unsub as he moved close by her. 

y/n asked with false confidence, “Why do you hate him so much. He certainly doesn’t talk about you.” y/n appealed to his sense of ego which worked. She could hear his heavy footsteps fall silent. There was a long pause and M finally said, “I’d hurt you for that, but I’m planning on that already. If you think this is bad now just wait.”

The words were meant to intimidate y/n, but she knew there was nothing she could do right now but get info and try and relay it to the team. So she stayed firm and didn’t show how scared she felt. Again the silence seemed like a gulf between them but M liked the sound of his own voice and he continued, “And I don’t like the doctor because he bested me. And you did too funnily enough even though I don’t care about you. I applied to the FBI Academy twice. As a Vet with an interrogation specialization, I thought I was the perfect fit, but what happened? Jason Gideon picks some lousy, scrawny kid, and appoints him to the BAU straight out of college, and he didn’t even go to the academy when I DID. Then they hire some woman who ends up leaving under dubious circumstances anyway and then you you -- whore. I don’t know who you had to suck off to get onto that team but both you and the good doctor took a spot that I deserved. I got stuck working at a local college teaching government classes, but I was planning this too. I didn’t want it, but by God am I going to make the FBI regret picking either of you above me, because neither of you will be fit to serve when I’m finished? And I’m far far from finished with you. After M said this, he opened y/n’s right eyelid and instantly she was blinded further. It was with the full intensity of the lights on her that y/n did feel like she might be broken. She didn’t know if she could handle this. But the team stayed in her mind and she grit her teeth. She’d signed up for this, and y/n did her best to remain strong for as long as possible and not lose herself. Not yet, not when there was hope. And if that hope took the form of Spencer Reid, so let it be, it could hardly be a secret to her anymore anyway. Not after this. 

By the time the team got their next message from Mr. M. a few things had happened. The first was that Hotch and Rossi had crossed out a few sectors and limited the range of where y/n was likely being held. The second was that Penelope had caught a red eye and came down from the Quanitco field office to be closer to the action. Lastly, Spencer and Derek had made a solid guess from the tone of both letters that the unsub was likely in the military or the police force and had changed career paths to something like office work or business. This would explain his blunt prose yet stilted attempt at sounding academic or over-intelligent. The team was unprepared for when loud music blasted in their ears when Penelope opened the unlisted video link on her computer. Everyone covered their ears, and Garcia quickly turned down the volume. The team watched in horror, and Pen almost felt like she was going to be ill as the unsub circled y/n with a handheld camera. He zoomed in on y/n’s eyes which seemed glued open and directly facing a very bright light.

y/n was panting like she couldn’t breathe and she hardly looked alive anymore. Not that she wasn’t alive, just that her face was either so pained or slack with the torment that she was being put through that she couldn’t take anymore. All eyes were glued to the gruesome sight and it took a moment for anyone to notice that the music had cut out and the unsub was speaking. Garcia let out a sharp breath, skipped the video back ten seconds, and then raised the volume again. Once the music was cut, and in a calm voice M stated, “Smile little bird, you’re on camera. Have anything to say to the doctor?” y/n’s mouth moved for a moment before she let out a small breath and screamed in a worn and hoarse voice, “Oedipus and his lover, Mr. Dimmesdale was great at his job.” y/n cut herself off with a lot of coughing at the effort of even speaking. Even trying to say something. M pulled the camera back to get a better wide angle of y/n as the unsub said, “Isn’t she great? She sings such a pretty song. I hope you’re enjoying it doctor because I don’t know if she’ll be singing much longer.” 

While most of the team paid attention to what the unsub was saying as a coping mechanism of not having to fully process the mental agony that y/n was going through, Emily paid closer attention. Suddenly Prentiss said loudly, “Roll it back Pen. y/n is mouthing something while the unsub is talking. I’ve almost made it out. I just need to see it once more.” The team, who was looking at Spencer to interpret what y/n had just signaled, and some of whom feared that y/n’s mind was already cracking beyond repair, looked back at the screen as Garcia went back once more. Penelope muted Mr. M, and everyone’s attention went back to y/n, who was clearly mouthing something. Prentiss said softly, and then more loudly, “There are four lights?”  Hearing this Spencer couldn’t stop the tears that came to his eyes with relief, and he sagged with those words. Derek and Rossi helped support Spencer, and the team huddled around him as he brushed the tears aside and said, “She’s okay. She’s saying she’s okay with the ‘four lights’ line. He hasn’t ‘broken’ her yet. At least not her will….” Reid couldn’t stop himself from saying, like it was an inside thing between just y/n and him, “It’s another Star Trek thing.” 

Another thrill rang through the team at this news. They knew y/n was strong, but she was also a good actress as she had played up her first statement. It became less and less of a surprise that y/n and Reid had spent so much time together. That they knew each other so well. This interaction was just solidifying what they had already assumed. But the picture of y/n’s eyes glued open and looking at the bright light also stayed with the team. Reid had his hands in his hair in frustration now trying to parse out the clues that y/n had left him, but he couldn’t fully match those pieces of information with any one person he knew. Dr. Reid did have some enemies, he did work for the FBI after all, but he didn’t think about them like that often. He didn’t just have people hating him enough to go and kidnap and torture the person he cared about the most. His brain didn’t process things like that even though he had calculated the risk every member of the team took with each case. And he did make sure y/n’s score was lowered thanks to him. But it wasn’t clicking because his brain was doing too much. Reid had jotted down a list of people that might come after him for various reasons and he’d given it to everyone in the BAU to see if they had any ideas. Of course, Penelope had made a whole spreadsheet and also found all the information about each person on the list as well. Spencer had gone over those fifteen names thousands of times now and was doing it again, trying to expand it to make something fit. 

Emily finally broke his train of thought and asked, “Spence, what about the other things y/n said? Is that more Star Trek stuff? It honestly sounded like a foreign language to me.” Only after Prentiss said this did Spencer realize that the rest of the BAU didn’t get all the references or implications in y/n’s words. Reid took a steadying breath while he composed himself. Aaron and Rossi simultaneously pulled out legal pads and pens to try and keep up with Reid’s speaking speed. Spencer started with the first part of y/n’s shouted sentence, saying, “Well. It’s kind of Star Trek. You actually just made me think of that Emily.” The parts and y/n’s wit began to click better and Spence continued, “We have to go back to the thing y/n said in her first letter about Tangra.” The team nodded and Hotch was already writing furiously, his hand gripping white on the pen in his grasp. “So Pircard can’t understand Dathon because their species speak only in metaphors, so I think y/n is giving us, me, a metaphor about who the unsub is.” This is where Hotch jumped in and said, “Then it’s not directly related to Trek. Just a way of signaling something. The first part of her metaphor was a reference to Oedipus Rex.” Everyone’s eyes moved to Aaron and they seemed surprised, but he brushed off their apparent shock at his classical literature knowledge and continued for those who didn’t get the reference, “Oedipus Rex is a tragedy about a prophecy that the son of a king will end of killing his father and marrying his mother. The king is horrified and has his newborn son, Oedipus, arranged to be killed. The man meant to kill him takes pity on the baby and spares him, thus many years later the prophecy comes true.” 

Spencer nodded along, and Garcia couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Wow, that’s really messed up.” Before Aaron could remind the technical analyst that it was a thousand-year-old work of fiction, Reid replied, “Yes, Oedipus does end up fulfilling the prophecy, but he didn’t want to. He doesn’t even know about it until later and he leaves his town to try and not fulfill his destiny, but he ends up doing that anyway. That’s why is a tragedy.” The team took in the information and Rossi offered, “So the unsub wanted to do the right thing but ended up doing the worst possible option?” Spence nodded along and then said, “And the second part about Mr. Dimmesdale being good at his job, I assume that’s a reference to The Scarlet Letter. Arthur Dimmessdale is the pastor who gets the protagonist pregnant and ends up being shunned from the Puritan society.” Emily asked, “So are we looking for someone who was thrown away for no reason? Or for doing something that appears bad?” Spencer nodded no, and thought through his list again, expanding it to the new parameters saying, “No. y/n specifically mentioned Dimmesdale, so I think we’re looking for a man. Clearly, Mr. Dimmesdale didn’t love his job because he did something that he shouldn’t have done either. He ends up having a breakdown because he can’t keep his secret. He ends up getting publicly humiliated.” 

The team thought for a moment and Penelope asked, “So is there someone you ended up humiliating enough to do something this horrible? I mean, not intentionally, but like when you were in grad school or at the Bureau? Anything?” Reid shook his head unknowingly. He couldn’t place someone he had specifically wronged except for those he’d put in prison, and thankfully many of those men and women were already dead or sentenced to life, but a picture started forming in Hotch’s head. The Unit Chief stated, “I don’t think you’d know him. Or have even met him, yet? Oedipus didn’t know his father when he killed him. He only figured that out later. So this is more about what you did to him than anything else.” Dave looked at Aaron and asked, “Do you have an idea of who he is?”  Hotch nodded and said, “Yes. This was while Jason was still here and you were ‘retired.’ You know Gideon hand-picked Spencer for the BAU much to the chagrin of the director. But it wasn’t only them, there were other members of the academy who wanted Reid’s spot. There were a few NATS that were more than flustered. Jason and I fielded quite a few complaints. There was one man in particular, an ex-Marine who threatened Gideon and me. That instantly excluded him from our recruiting, and once Gideon invited Reid, we started getting real threats. That man dropped off the map, but he continued sending threats through alternative accounts, and many were targets to you, Spencer. Garcia took care of them actually, took care of blocking them so you didn’t ever see them.” 

Spencer looked up at Hotch shocked and said, “Why didn’t you ever tell me this.” Hotch dropped his head and said, “You were so young Spencer. So much was happening in your life at that time and Jason and I thought it was for the best. I apologize. That was a mistake.” Reid let out a breath, knowing now wasn’t the time to be upset with Aaron. Instead, he asked, “Do you still have his contact information? Do you have anything at all on him?” Before Aaron could even reply, Penelope said, “I do. I keep everything, and this time it’s legal. Any threats that are filed against an agent or a former agent are kept in a database that I helped update.” Morgan said with a happiness he hadn’t felt since arriving in Kansas, “God bless you, woman. Now is the time to show us those computer skills of yours” Penelope smiled and turned back toward her screen, cracking her knuckles, “Glady my friends. Watch me do my thing.” 

y/n slumped onto the ground limp. When M finally released her from the contraption that had held her in place, y/n was too overwhelmed to do anything else but lie. Once the light in front of her had been turned off, she felt like she was in an abyss of black. Even though the man had unglued her eyelids after what felt like an eternity. Just being in front of the light with her eyes shut was still like looking at the sun without shades. Again time was a reality that had left y/n out of place, out of being. It could have been months or years since she’d been bound since she’d been put in this place. Because of the loud noise from the speakers M had brought in, y/n couldn’t hear him moving around. Her ears were constantly ringing even though the sound had ceased. Besides that, y/n didn’t have the energy to try and figure out what was happening around her; she knew whatever it was wasn’t good. At this point, y/n didn’t even feel she was in her own body anymore. She was somewhere else entirely. 

y/n didn’t register anything much apart from pain until the unsub, who had set up the room as a trap, started a livestream that he sent to Spencer, and kicked her in the side. The sharp pain radiated up y/n’s ribcage and she let out a moan though her voice was gone from screaming. Even M had to shout and shake y/n to get her to hear him say, “I’m letting you go. All you have to do is get to the door. You’re useless to me now. I don’t see your doctor coming to save you, so you might as well get out. I guess you’re not as important to him as I thought you were.” Deep down, y/n knew that the man wouldn’t let her go. She’d not leave this place alive. She also knew she was special to Spencer. That he would do anything for her, and that he and the team were still looking for her, but she was so tired and mentally broken that she began to believe it. It felt like for no reason other than to just move instead of being killed not trying, that y/n began to move on the floor. She was too weak to even get on her hands and knees.

Instead, she just moved on her stomach in a direction even though she couldn’t see anything except bright spots covering most of her vision. The rest was so blurry that it only added to the migraine she already had. y/n hardly noticed that there was glass on the ground until the warmth of the blood from her stomach made her realize in horror that she was crawling on a sea of broken glass. y/n stopped and M began berating her for not being strong enough. Not having the willpower to want to get away. That he had won. It took the last of y/n’s strength to speak her mind. To tell the man the truth. She knew it would get her killed, faster, but she would have a clear mind. 

“You’re an idiot.” Y/n couldn’t hear her own voice, but she assumed M was listening and she didn’t let anything he did distract her from continuing, “You are the dumbest person I’ve met. You got Spencer all wrong. You don’t understand him at all. He might like me, and I like him too, but Spence isn’t some weirdo who doesn’t have any friends. He doesn’t stay up at night plotting revenge on people or thinking of zany puzzles because he’s so bored and doesn’t have friends. Spencer is a smart guy, but that intelligence doesn’t push him away from people or relationships. He’s just a smart guy who works for the FBI. It’s clear to me that you’re the weirdo with no friends, and you’re just going to have to accept that you couldn’t cut it in the FBI, forever. It sucks to suck.” Mr. M moved to grab a knife he had brought in the room to finish the job. He couldn’t handle y/n insulting him,  and he was going to finish her off, slowly. He had very little restraint when he was scorned. Before he could get to y/n, he was knocked back by a load of gunfire as the BAU along with a SWAT team swarmed into the room. y/n was so far gone that she couldn’t even tell as Reid knelt next to her and wept. 

The next few days stretched into apparent eternity for many of the team. y/n was taken immediately to the hospital, accompanied by Spencer and Emily, while Derek and Aaron took the unsub into custody for interrogation and criminal proceedings. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope stayed behind to handle the police presence, forensics teams, and clean-up process. In part, the BAU was relieved to find y/n still alive, it was a weight lifted, but the reports from y/n’s team of doctors at the hospitals painted such a picture of pain and mental suffering that y/n must have endured that it broke their hearts. How they could ever forgive themselves for what had happened, to y/n? They didn’t know. But they had to keep moving because that was what the job required. That was the nature of the work, and they all prayed that y/n would get better, and also understand what they had to do. 

Spencer felt shielded from most of the work side of things, as he stayed mostly at the hospital and heard the doctors and nurses' multifaceted and comprehensive care plan for y/n with the majority of it working on how to deal with y/n’s partial loss of vision, mental health, PTSD, and the chronic pain that would likely come in the months ahead. Spencer took in this information and researched and planned and found medical trials and anything that he thought might help. He mostly did this to fill the time. y/n had been put in a medical coma to help facilitate her physical healing. Spencer knew in the end that no amount of research he did it would but y/n It would be up to her to want to keep living after this. And given all that she’d been through, he wouldn’t blame her if she decided to just be whatever was left of herself because of him. Reid was trying to take in the very real possibility that she might never want to see him again given that being his friend had made this fate happen to her. Spence was only out of the hospital when another member of the team tagged him out for a day or a few hours. Even then, Spencer didn’t rest. He just tossed and turned. 

When y/n was taken out of her coma four days later, it was Penelope who was there when her fingers twitched on the sheets and felt the crisp material. y/n’s eyes opened, seeing only the blurred brightness of the room which she quickly closed them again. Garcia leaned forward in her chair and said softly, “I’m here y/n. You just rest for now.” Penelope stayed with y/n for the next few hours as the doctors and nurse checked on y/n’s vitals and her sight and she lay exhausted in every way, just let these things happen to her. Her mind was somewhere else. It wasn’t in the hospital room, part of it was still on the team, like an outsider looking in, and part of it was at her apartment watering the one plant she’d kept alive since college, and another was in the park where they sold a t/c/s that she loved to drink and people watch with, but the majority of her brain was still in that freezer, waiting for death, waiting for the worst to happen. And even though part of her mind knew she was alive and being helped, it couldn’t register beyond what had happened to her. y/n stayed in this state of being in and out of herself and her body for another day. The next time y/n came back to herself, it was still Penelope sitting by her. 

Garcia came back into the waiting room where Spencer was, as always, sitting and waiting for news, waiting for anything. Penelope walked over to him and leaned over his seated form. Reid looked up at her, his brown eyes lit up slightly. He asked something quietly back and Penelope nodded her head. Spencer got up and shook out his legs. They’d gotten stiff with all his awkward sitting positions. He followed Garica and a nurse to y/n’s room and took the place where the blonde and spunky Technical analyst had been for the last two hours. The nurse gave Reid a few words before leaving the room. The mood shifted a bit. Penelope just lit up a room where as Spencer brought a more calm mood to the room. He looked around the space which he’d seen while y/n was unconscious. It was still light, a sad beige color, and lots of pretty soft flowers from the team and friends. It seemed that Reid could look everywhere but y/n. The nurse and Penelope had both warned him that y/n still hadn’t said a word since she had woken up apart from his name. Reid didn’t expect y/n to just become whole because he was near her, but the fact that y/n had called for him had given him hope. But as his eyes finally landed on her face which was healing from the heavy bruising she’d received, her eyes remained mostly closed, but every now and then they opened, took in whatever they could, and then closed again. One time she turned her head slightly toward Spencer, and he wondered if she could even see him, or if she knew he was there. 

It wasn’t until the next day that y/n said in a very soft and hoarse voice, “Spence?” that Reid looked up from his lap and shifted forward in his chair. He didn’t want to be imagining things, but y/n’s voice had been so faint that he could have just made his name up. Anyhow, he softly replied, “Yes, y/n. I’m here.” y/n swallowed and turned her face toward him. She couldn’t see him, but she’d left like he was there. It didn’t seem like Penelope anymore but given how she’d felt, and the things that weren’t real that she’d seen before being saved had messed up her sense of reality. Hearing Spencer’s response helped, and she held back a sob as she asked, “How do I know you’re real? How do I know if any of this is real?”

Spencer desperately wanted to take her hand and reassure her that everything was going to be fine, but he didn’t want to promise things he couldn’t guarantee. He also knew touching y/n might make her nervous and panicked. Spencer looked over y/n and replied, “It’s real because you know it is. Because you’re strong enough to wake up and talk. Because maybe life isn’t so cruel to let this be a dream for either of us.” y/n turned her head toward him again and tried to make out his face. She’d have liked to see what he looked like right now. Was he sad, relieved, or feeling as empty as she was? She wanted to know because she didn’t know how to feel or act or do. For now, there wasn’t more than resting and waiting to see if this was all a charade. To see if she’d suddenly jerk awake to see death in the face again. To be back with M. again. For now, she let out a sigh and tried to feel anything in her body. Her pain receptors were either shot from what she’d been through or she was on so much pain medication that it was intentional. Either way seemed preferable, and yet the pain had grounded her in her time in captivity and now that it was gone there was a strange void where it had pulsed all over her body. y/n rested her head in a more comfortable position and let the sleepiness come back to drag her back under. 

The rest of the BAU shuffled through sitting with y/n as Spencer got his mandated rest and time off ordered by Aaron. The presence of the others and the changes in the atmosphere with each of them helped y/n pull herself back together. The next time Spencer came back she was slightly more herself. She was sitting up on a few pillows and she sensed when Reid stepped into the room. They sat together for a few minutes in silence before y/n said, “The last time you were here you said I was strong. But I don’t feel strong Spencer. I feel broken. I mean I am broken. I can’t see anything and my hearing’s shot too.” Reid bit his lower lip and thought for a bit before responding. He could tell her that she was very likely to get her hearing back and that her vision would improve in time. That with time and care she could resume a pretty normal life. 

But a pretty normal life didn’t feel fair. None of this felt fair, and Spencer knew that. He also knew that the team in charge of y/n’s care would have told her that as well. They would have been doing everything that would attempt to boost her spirits. As it was like Spencer to do, he chose to go with a more metaphorical take on things. It was one of the things that had drawn y/n to him in the first place, and he hoped it would bring her comfort now. He focused on her hands which were gripping the sheets tightly as he said, “No one chooses to be broken y/n. That’s not their fault, but that doesn’t mean that the thing isn’t beautiful, it’s just changed.” y/n let out a breath and said, “I’m not Fitzgerald or Beethoven. I don’t think the tortured broken artist thing will work for me. I’m just a profiler. Was just a profiler.” Spencer could see the disappointment and pain on her face, and he replied, “Not that exactly, but your knowledge about art and literature did make it possible for us to find you. I was useless on this case, and I’m so, so sorry for that. You saved yourself on this one, and given what you’ve been through, you deserve a good life after this, a peaceful life if you want it.” 

y/n wanted to believe Spencer, but his speech so far was giving, “A broken clock is correct twice a day,” and that wasn’t the most uplifting thing she’d heard so far. She didn’t know what she wanted after this. Didn’t know how to want anything after she’d thought she would die over and over again. However, y/n knew that Spence wasn’t done yet. It was a tell in his cadence, and just as y/n expected, he continued, “Have you ever heard of kintsugi?” y/n nodded her head no, and Reid explained, “It’s a form of Japanese pottery. When a plate or vase or anything that’s been fired breaks; the potter puts the pieces back together with gold.” y/n let out a breath, it sounded like a beautiful thing, and it was a nice metaphor, but her pessimistic side said, “So I’m just a broken thing and painted pretty so I’m not a profit-loss?” Spencer sighed and said, “No. What I’m trying to say is that. What I’m trying to say is that things that are broken still have value and beauty. They still deserve to be cared for and looked after. They’re different, but it’s still a precious thing. It is to me at least.”

y/n couldn’t hold back the tears that were now overspilling from the corners of her eyes, and she moved her hand out, palm open. An invitation to let Spencer take it, which he did. Spencer bowed his head over their joined hands and y/n felt his soft hair on her skin. It was the first time she’d felt grounded since waking up. It was the first time she felt real again. y/n sniffled and said, “I don’t know what to do Spence. I don’t know who I am anymore.” Reid nodded and said while gently squeezing her hand said, “I know. And you don’t have to know that right now. Every part of you is still there, but it’s going to be a hard time to dig those things back out of yourself. Maybe some of them you’ll want to leave behind. But I want to be with you as you try to become this new version of you. If you’ll let me. I was such an idiot y/n. I’m so sorry,” y/n nodded and said, “Don’t be. I don’t regret it, Spencer. It’s worth it to know you. I want you here, please.” 

Spencer nodded, and y/n felt tears that weren’t her own on her hand and arm now as Spence ever so lightly brushed his lips over her knuckles. Neither of them said it, but the love in the room was so much more than what it had been before. Perhaps it wasn’t the fluffy teenage love they could have had if none of this had happened, but it was clearer now than ever, and that was worth it. There was a future in that, whatever it looked like. After a few moments y/n asked, “Can you read to me? I knew you had a book in your lap before I said anything and the quiet is slowly driving me insane.” Spencer sat up and said, “Well it’s just a collection of Ginsberg poems and I know you don’t like Ginsberg.” y/n scoffed lightly and retorted, “What do you mean, I love Ginsberg.” Reid shook his head and said, “Liar.” y/n pouted like a child at being read so easily and said, “Fine, but maybe I love Ginsberg when you’re reading him to me. Please?” Spencer chuckled and said, “Anything for you, y/n. Anything.” As Spencer began reading, and y/n listened, neither of them thought about the future or the past, they were just there, and for now, that was as meaningful as gold holding something broken yet precious together.

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Writing Notes: Levels of Editing

The 5 Stages of Editing: Beta Reading, Developmental Editing, Line Editing, Copyediting, Proofreading

The Editorial Process

Writing

Drafting

Sourcing feedback from beta readers

Self-editing

Developmental editing or manuscript evaluation

Line editing

Copyediting

Proofreading

Publishing

2 Levels of the Process

MACRO / STORY LEVEL

This is where developmental editing (also sometimes called content editing, substantive editing or structural editing)

and manuscript evaluations (sometimes known as manuscript reviews or editorial critiques) are to be found.

It’s big-picture work that looks at the novel as a whole. Editors who specialize in this level of service focus on how your book works – stuff like structure, plot, flow, point of view, characterization and pace.

Story-level editing involves the following concepts:

Character arc: Goals, motivations and conflict

Effective dialogue

Genre: Impact on writing style and length

Narrative arc: Beginnings, middles and ends

Narrative style: Viewpoint, tense, voice and distance

Plot and subplot analysis

Problematic representation, stereotyping and othering

Story structure and pacing

Themes: the main ideas that connect the components of the story

World-building: creating engaging settings

MICRO / SENTENCE LEVEL

Includes line editing, copyediting and proofreading.

Sentence-level work that looks at the text on a line-by-line & word-by-word basis.

Sentence-level editing involves the following:

Chapter sequencing

Character-trait consistency

Cliché and awkward metaphor

Dialogue expression: style, tagging and punctuation

Effectiveness of sentence-level narration

Letter, word, line and paragraph spacing

Narrative style: Consistency of viewpoint, tense, voice

Effectiveness of narrative distance

Pace and flow: Special attention paid to repetition and overwriting

Problematic representation, stereotyping and othering

Spelling, grammar, syntax, punctuation, hyphenation and capitalization

Standard document formatting using Word’s styles palette: indentation, paragraph style, section breaks

Told versus shown prose

The Levels of Editing

STAGE 1: BETA READING

Authors send drafts of their novel to test-readers.

To receive feedback on structural issues such as plot, pacing, characterization, writing style and reader engagement.

Not the place for uncovering micro problems (spelling/grammar).

Beta reading may be free (via, say, a writing group or a critique partner) but some professional editors provide paid-for services (sometimes called early reviews) that provide guidance on the next-best editing steps.

It’s a good first step for those who want someone else to take their novel out for a test-drive before deeper levels of intensive editing begin.

STAGE 2: DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING

Also called structural or story editing - the shaping stage where decisions that affect how the novel works as a whole are made: Plot, story arc, structure, pacing, characterization, genre, narrative viewpoint and tense.

When the reader has finished the journey, they should feel satisfied by the experience of reading your work.

The journey might be bumpy. There are peaks and troughs – action, contemplation, and deduction, all of which are structured and paced so as to engage the reader as the story unfolds.

Developmental editing is where your story is tested and revised so that readers want to turn the page.

Alternative: Manuscript Evaluations/Critiques

Critiques can be thought of as mini developmental edits.

A professional editor provides a report that analyses the strengths and weaknesses of the writing, and what the author can do to improve their book.

Unlike full developmental edits, no changes are made to the book file. They’re an affordable first step for any author who wants to learn how to implement their own structural revisions.

Additional: Sensitivity/Diversity Reading

This is a niche form of evaluation in which a specialist reports on the potential misrepresentation and devaluation of marginalized others.

Readers are looking out for cliched, harmful, biased or false content and non-inclusive language.

Sensitivity readers focus on how others’ identities are represented in terms of race, sexuality, gender, physical ability, mental or emotional health, political beliefs, religion, age, culture and socioeconomic status.

Others identify potential problems with how those who’ve experienced abuse, trauma, violence, bigotry, illness, bereavement and poverty are portrayed.

They’re a valuable addition to the editorial process for authors who want to positively diversify the voices in their fiction but don’t have the lived experience of the individuals/groups they’re writing about.

Identifying goals and selecting a sensitivity reader with the appropriate experience is essential.

STAGE 3: LINE EDITING

The smoothing stage.

Sense is checked and flow is mastered so that the reader is driven to stay on the page and immerse themselves in the story’s world.

Good writing acknowledges that readers absorb words in a certain way – in the West we read from left to right and top to bottom, regardless of the device through which the book is delivered. Though our brains allow us to take in more than one letter and one word at a time, unless we’re scanning we move through sentences from start to finish. Those sentences should say what they need to say, and only that. Too many words, or repetition of what’s already known, can make the reading experience boring and frustrating.

Authors can play with sentence length and language style to reflect the historical period, genre, and the mood of a given scene. And punctuation is not about pedantry. It’s a powerful pacer that can evoke tension and impart clarity.

If a strong story compels readers to turn the page, line editing is what helps them want to stay on it.

Alternative: Mini Line-Level Critiques

No changes are made to the book file.

Instead, a professional editor provides a report that analyses the strengths and weaknesses of sentence-level craft.

The editor may suggest recasts to dialogue and narrative with a view to improving line-level flow, pace, drama and readability.

They’ll also offer advice on layout, spelling, punctuation & grammar conventions.

They’re an affordable first step for any author who wants to learn how to implement their own sentence-level revisions.

STAGE 4: COPYEDITING

The correcting stage

Inconsistent or incorrect spelling, grammar, and punctuation are attended to, and where logic is checked, such that the reader is allowed to follow the story without distraction.

Compelling writing makes readers forget that they’re reading.

Copyediting removes distractions.

Style sheets are the author’s and editor’s friend.

They record decisions on the language choice (e.g. American or British English), style (e.g. -is- or -iz- spellings, both of which are standard in British English), proper-noun spelling, character traits, location identifiers, the book’s timeline, use of idiom, dialogue treatment, how numbers are rendered, how capitalization and hyphenation are handled, and a hundred other decisions.

Many professional editors carry out line- and copyediting simultaneously because they’re complementary processes.

STAGE 5: PROOFREADING

The quality-control stage

Any final literal errors and layout problems are flagged up such that the book is fit for publication. Since human beings are doing the editing work, it’s rare for a book to get to the pre-publication stage without a few snafus remaining.

During the previous rounds of editing, new errors might have been introduced by accident. The design process can cause problems too:

Some elements of the book (a heading, a paragraph, a footnote) might be formatted inconsistently and incorrectly … think about indents, line spaces, end-of-line wordbreaks, page-number chronology, running heads and alignment just for starters.

Proofreading is the final line of defence.

The Order of Play

There’s a logical order of play when it comes to editing.

Think of it like building a house:

Developmental editing is like laying the foundations and building the structure

Line editing and copyediting are like plastering the brickwork, painting the walls, and sanding the floorboards

Proofreading is where you move in the furniture and fill in any tiny cracks that have appeared

Swap the order around and you’ll end up in a pickle.

At best you’ll waste time; at worst you’ll waste money.

Let’s imagine you invest in smoothing your prose and eradicating most of the spelling, grammar, punctuation, and consistency problems (line editing and copyediting). Then you discover a gaping plot hole that requires you to move two chapters, rewrite three, and make 75 sentence-level tweaks throughout the rest of the book (structural amendments).

Every move, every deletion, every rewrite, and every tweak brings with it the chance of damaging the line/copyediting work.

That’s time and money down the drain.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

[exhaustedbunnytm]

I thought this doctor would be different…but no…

“have you tried anti-depressants?” - yes all of them. I have treatment resistant depression I have literally done almost fucking everything.

“are you sure you eat healthy? You don’t have too much sugar?” - no processed foods, i occasionally allow myself to indulge, i eat a diet planned by a nutritionist.

“are you sure it is not psychosomatic?” - my mental health is struggling because my body is declining and I am fucking exhausted all the time. I am struggling mentally because of my physical illness.

“have you tried a multi-vitamin?” - yes, and they make me feel like shit more. I still take other vitamins.

“Im not referring you, just so you can get opioids.” - i just want to see a rheumatologist and a pain and spine specialist…for my fucking pain, that I am in every day. I want a diagnosis and no pain.

*googles cfs and reads from the same document I have read* “have you tried meditation or yoga?” - go fuck yourself, you list yourself as a chronic illness specialist and you’re googling this shit. Meditation and yoga have never and will never work for me, I have tried so many times.

“you are completely healthy, you’ve been seen by everyone” - no I have not seen everyone, i need to see a rheumatologist, and a pain and spine specialist, and someone that will actually help me try to have a quality of life.

I have been striped of everything I enjoy, i am a shell of what I once was because my hands are always in pain, my joints are swollen. I am a fucking artist who hasn’t made art in 8 months because my hands hurt so much I can’t make work. I went from being in 8+ shows a year to not even being able to make work. This has been devastating to me, I have never not been able to make art in some form. I have lost a core part of me that I thought I would never lose.

Just because I look healthy on paper does not mean I am. It does not mean it is psychosomatic, my pain is real. This is real. It is not in my head…

[official-penis-posts]

I notice you’re having a couple of trans men asking about stuff lately and I’ve just recently put together a document with some info about transitioning for a few other people who had been asking me so I figured I’d send an ask and see if anyone would be interested in a Dropbox link to that doc.

I’m an Aussie so specialists and surgeons I’ve mentioned are Australia specific (particularly hunter valley/Newcastle region) but the general info about processes and HRT would be fine.

I do also add to the document from time to time as I remember more details to add to it or as I find out more info as I go through things myself.

I’m pretty open about being a transman so even if anyone want to dm me with some questions I’d be fine with that too. (FtM 7 years on T [1 year on gel format and the remainder on injections], 2 years post top surgery + 1 year post full hysterectomy & currently looking into phallo)

Hey thank you for sharing this!

[malina-33]

Femme like you - Chapter 1

Summary: You are the new tour manager for Arctic Monkeys during The Car era. You are practically the only girl in the team, also younger than the rest (27), so your skills are immediately called into question. In particular, by the frontman who is not used to being led by a woman.

Word count: 3,1k

Warning: age gap

A/N: Hi, you all!!! I'm so thrilled and excited to do this kind of stuff, but it feels like I'm making my dream come true. This series won't be very long even though I have an eye-watering number of moments I want to release in this fic, but English isn't my first language and it's pretty tough to write in it (so if you find any mistakes don't be afraid to text me and correct). I spent a lot of time to write this small opening chapter, that’s why following parts won't appear regularly, but I promise to uptade them every 2-3 weeks! They will definitely be longer that the opener😉

I read a lot of works with Alex, 'cause my addiction doesn't seem to disappear, so this idea just popped in my head and I couldn't resist. Never thought that I would be an author, not a reader in Tumblr, but voila - here I am. I really expect you to love it❤️

And yes, I know that their current tour manager is Steven Champan, but for the story I changed it slightly, hope you won't mind :)

“James, seriously?” Alex looked away in bewilderment from the bottle of Hennessy to Ford.

“More than you can imagine” producer chuckled. “I will be with my family in Scotland, I haven’t seen them in a while, and she will replace me for the UK and European parts only, it’s about one and a half months”.

Turner looked him up and down with a displeased look, still sitting on the couch with a bottle in his hands “That’s ridiculous. She has never worked with us! She will break into all our well-established processes, not knowing the specifics of the work and will only interfere. We'll make it on our own, not the first time, man, huh?” Alex decided to soften his tone a little to appease his friend and cutely knitted his eyebrows.

“Al, you are being childish. C’mon, we have already agreed on everything, she is a good specialist, don't let yourself be deceived by her appearance” Ford threw a jacket over his shoulders, silently saying that the conversation is over.

“Just because she's your friend's daughter doesn't mean she's good!” The singer spat out the last argument hoping to reach out to the conscience of their producer.

“Give her a chance, you won't be disappointed” James said mysteriously, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving the disgruntled frontman alone with his obsessive thoughts.

***

You sat in your car in the parking lot in front of the Domino Records headquarters, nervously clutching a Starbucks cup. There were still 20 minutes before the meeting, but you arrived early. All the documents had already been signed, the agreements had been discussed, but the most thrilling moment remained - the meeting with the group itself and the technical crew.

When James Ford, your father's old friend from university and at the same time music producer for Arctic Monkeys, called you several weeks ago with an unusual request, you simply didn't have a chance to refuse. You've been dreaming of working in this industry since 16, especially since you adored this group and were at their concerts six times. Being their manager for one part of the 7th album tour sounded like a fantasy, but here you are, sitting in front of their label building, where you have a meeting with the musicians. If you caught the lucky girl syndrome, then you definitely didn’t want to let it go. At least not now.

From the trance into which you plunged by shaking coffee in the cup, you were brought out by the deafening creak of tires on asphalt. You immediately snapped out and looked in the rearview mirror. An elegant Cadillac whistled and stopped 3 parking lots away from you just passing the dividing line.

You weren't stupid not to realize whose car it was. The passenger got out, slamming the door sharply. He was wearing a beige trousers and matching jacket with black vest underneath, translucent red aviators were on despite a cloudy day. Paying no attention to your car and not even bothering to close his, a man quickly walked inside the building.

You followed the door closed behind Alex Turner itself with a blank look, finished your coffee in one gulp and also got out of the car, taking your purse from the passenger seat. Having heard about his "punctuality", you assumed that everyone else had already arrived, so you walked to the building as well. "There's no point in delaying this moment, let's start early" you bravely told yourself.

The studio in southwest London wasn't as big as you expected it to be. The guard pointed you to room 14, saying that you were already awaited. Inside, the bright corridors were hung with rare photographs, including images of early Monkeys' concerts. You smiled slightly as you looked at the photos of four young people laughing with their hands in their pockets. "Nice time" you thought.

You didn't really understand why you were so inflamed. You are all adults, lads have been warned about the change in management in advance so it won’t be a surprise for them, what could be the problem? You had enough work experience to know what to do, you were excellently good-looking and successful, then why did your palms sweat? Immersed in your thoughts you didn’t notice that you had reached the end of the corridor and stopped at the half-open door, from behind which quiet voices could be heard.

“Oi, she better buy me a bottle of beer on the way, my head hurts after yesterday. Why did I come so early, gosh?”

“It's been 5 minutes since you've been here, and you've already blown my mind’’. Seemed that it was Matt.

"I prefer to come sober to meetings scheduled in advance, but for the future I will keep in mind to see you no earlier than Tuesday, Mr. Turner”. Maybe it wasn’t the best greeting phrase, but you just couldn't resist. When you entered the room with these words, 7 surprised pairs of eyes met your figure. Alex, Matt and Nick were sitting on a leather sofa in the center of the room, Jamie was pouring water into a glass at a side table, Steven was sitting in a chair talking to Ben, who was reclining on the arm of this chair, behind them was a man whose name you didn’t know.

"I'm sorry," you quickly became embarrassed, realizing how inappropriate those words sounded. Silence reigned in the room for a few seconds, but was quickly interrupted by the awkward coughing of that same unfamiliar man. "Um guys, this is your new tour manager for these two months, Y/N Y/S" He said softly enough, stepping out from behind the chair and holding out his hand for you. "I'm Marcus, James' assistant, the rest you should know".

"Yeah, right, he told me about you, I'm very glad to meet you," and carefully shifting your gaze to the others you added "everyone".

You stood in your knee-length leather boots, denim shorts and an oversized cream-colored jacket not knowing what to do with the burning eyes on your persona.

"Actually, I brought a homemade cider as an ice-breaker, it's in my trunk, so after the official part of the meeting we can try it. Not beer, but still tasty," you said with an apologetic smile, trying your last attempt to ease the conversation. The room froze in silence once again, and in this moment Matt laughed out loud, slapping his knee and throwing head back on the headboard. Jamie and Nick joined him, smiling broadly, while Ben, Steven, and Marcus chuckled hoarsely as they looked at each other. Only Alex remained frowning as he continued to scan your figure.

"I like her already! Great move, miss Y/S" Matt said, obviously being amazed.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you sat down in the chair Marcus offered you. He was noticeably younger than the others, near your age, which immediately made you sympathize with him.

"Well, when we finally got to know each other, let's get down to business. As you all know James is on an unscheduled vacation due to family circumstances. Hence we are going to work with Miss Y/S in UK and Europe festivals, while I will assist her. I know that Y/N discussed with James all the main points about dates, places and stuff, but now we have to delve into details of the organization process itself. Ben and I will explain the tech part and the lads will share their preferences" Steven began the discussion by leaning a little closer to the center of your improvised circle. He seemed to be a very wise and at the same time charismatic man. Attractive, but platonically.

“Sorry, may I interrupt before we start” It sounded more like a statement from Alex. “How old are you, once again?"

"I'm 27, Mr. Turner. And let's make it clear, since this still raises questions. Yes, I'm quite young relative to you and indeed a stranger to your team. But I've known James for a long time, as well as your work, whose main fan I have been since 18. I have been in show business for 7 years now and worked with Maneskin at the very beginning of their career. It’s not difficult for me to provide my CV if necessary, but I’m here because I sincerely want to help my father's friend and ensure that you have the most comfortable atmosphere during your stay in Europe. I have an idea what it's like to be on tour for a year, I understand how tired you are, and that you need conditions for rest and creation. So I'll let you do your job without the interference and you’ll give me freedom to do my work properly, I'm sure we both do it very well, especially since you are not the only one, Mr. Turner, who can make a show out of nothing”. At these words the drummer whistled, turning to the gloomy vocalist, but you continued “I’m really extremely happy to be a part of Arctic Monkeys team, for me this is a great opportunity to test myself and work with such big people like you. So I don't see any problems in our interaction, taking into account that I'm here temporarily.

You glanced at the men with a soft, but tenacious look, catching your breath “Didn't seem to miss anything at this point, deal?”

Steven was the first to answer, smiling paternally at you and accepting your little speech. You also noticed that Turner shook his head, but smirked to himself, which relaxed your muscles a bit. If you didn't get along from the first sentence, then at least you can establish a normal business relationship. You understood that the nature of a rock star is unpredictable, following the development of the group and the change in the image of the frontman for many years, but you couldn't imagine that he would talk so irritably to new people. Yes, he certainly behaved ugly, but you also started the dialogue with a caustic comment. Apparently, you deserve each other.

After the temperature in the room dropped and everyone took a more relaxed posture, you began to discuss current tasks. Your first gig will be in Bristol on May 29th, so you have two weeks to get ready. In fact, everything has already been done even before the start of the whole tour. Now your duty is only to coordinate the setlists with the guys for each performance, to make sure that all agreements with venues are fulfilled, the rider is completed, the equipment is working properly, the buses are ordered, the hotels have confirmed the reservation, and the whole team has arrived safe and sound. Okay, maybe it's not so little, but you're ready for any challenge. This is your passion after all.

You will ride in a separate minivan with the management team, and not with the guys, which in general wasn’t a big surprise for you, but in hotels you will be provided with a separate room, unlike the rest of the staff, who live in double suits. You didn't know what caused such generosity, but you were pleased anyway. You talked for about an hour, agreeing to meet again at the sound check in a week, and then only before leaving for Bristol. During this time you will have to study all the venues, call the transport company and confirm the details of the trips.

Your meeting ended on a positive note, the guys were asking you about your life, your education and hobbies, you said that you had been dancing professionally for many years and even took up drumming at the university, to which Matt happily promised to give you lessons, triumphant that he finally met someone who doesn't play the guitar, but the drums.

“Be careful, Matthew, if it turns out that she is more talented than you, we’ll replace you without any hesitation. She looks better” Nick joked and immediately got the middle finger in response from the drummer. Even Alex genuinely smiled, looking back at the friend.

"Oh, don't worry, it's unlikely. But as for the cider I wasn't joking, at least I'm definitely good at that"

"Wait, did you make it yourself?" surprised Ben.

"Yes, I live in the suburbs of London and have my own small garden, I make cider for friends during the season"

"You know what, I'm already tired of this stuffy room, you say it's in your trunk?" Matt, confirming his status as the most talkative member of the group, stood up impatiently, stretching his stiff limbs.

"Yes, let's go and give it a try" you said, also getting up from your chair. “Who is with us?” you raised an eyebrow in question and the answer was six men who rose to their feet.

"Definitely need a smoke” murmured Alex in addition, patting his pockets for a pack of cigarettes.

“Damn, where did James find her?” you heard Jamie's question addressed to Steven as you left the room with Matt and couldn’t hold back a short, but self-satisfied smirk. "That's not the last ace in the hole, Jamie" flashed through your head.

"I'm asking the same question" but instead of Champan, the voice was given by Alex.

"Al, will you calm down today or not? Did yesterday's booze give you such a headache?" Cook hissed almost angrily.

But you didn’t hear the answer, moving away along the corridor to the exit.

***

When all the lads came out from the studio, you and Matt had already taken a wooden case with 12 bottles of cider out of the trunk of your white Range Rover and put it on the hood. Coming closer, Alex threw a jacket over his shoulders and took out cigarettes, offering you one.

"I don't smoke, thanks," you replied calmly. He arched an eyebrow in surprise and took a pipe of tobacco between his lips. “You better start, darling” He took a quick puff, blowing smoke in your face, and looked intently from under his eyelashes. Despite the sweet name, from his lips it sounded somehow humiliating. You didn't answer, turning around and taking one of the bottles, silently passing it to him. He thanked you, and you gave each man a bottle as well. "For the new leg of the tour! Cheers!" Steven exclaimed, raising the bottle in the air and you all clinked glasses together.

The eight of you stood in the parking lot next to your car. You and Marcus leaned on the hood, Chapman nestled next to your right, and the guys were in front of you. You stayed in pleasant silence, interrupted by the chirping of birds from a nearby square and breezes of the wind that swayed your styling. Satisfied sigh followed by Marcus and Jamie, which made you laugh cutely.

"Enjoy?" you asked playfully, taking a sip.

"Y/N, that's amazing! I’ve never thought our team would feel so acutely short of a personal alcohol supplier" Jamie savored the taste, taking small sips.

"It's only 6% alcohol, I brought this one on purpose, knowing that you will most likely be driving. But there is also 12% sort in my basement, so in case of anything, you know where to find me"

"Actually not, but for the sake of such a case, we will definitely get your address from James" Nick answered cheerfully.

You spent 20 more minutes talking about the process of making an apple brew and sharing your alcohol tastes. “What a topic to discuss” you hummed to yourself. Eventually you gave Ben, Marcus, Jamie, and Matt one more bottle, promising to bring more of 12% sort to the concert, and you were about to leave when suddenly your phone rang. A dark and mystical tune played from the back pocket of your shorts.

"Woah, that’s pretty old one" Alex said with unexpected liveliness.

"One of my favorites from yours" you replied quickly, pulling out the device. It was James. You decided to call him back when you would be alone, so you dropped the call, texting him that you would call back later.

"Hey Al, we haven't played it in a while. What do you think, mate?" Matt asked conspiratorially, giving him a little nudge on the shoulder.

"We’ll see, I think it's possible. NME will especially rejoice at this, still considering it insanely vulgar" the singer rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling.

"Isn't that right, Mr. Turner? Whose propeller is it then?" you grinned as you took an empty box and returned it to the trunk of the jeep.

"Miss Y/S, don't make me doubt your foresight as well" to your surprise, he came over to help you close the tailgate. You dusted your hands and shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, being locked between the car and the frontman. You could literally see wrinkles around his eyes and cider-wet lips that now were gently stirring.

"Who called?" the man asked more quietly than usual. "Uh, James, I think I should call him as soon as possible"

"Yeah, most likely" Turner reluctantly backed away from you, letting you through, and you walked to the driver's door.

"Well, guys, I was very glad to see you, I'm sure fruitful work awaits us!" you smiled reassuringly, swaying from heel to toe from jitters and excitement from upcoming events.

"See you in a bit, Miss Y/S, I will send you all our numbers and other necessary contacts tonight. Sleep enough these days, you will soon miss it" Steven winked and extended his hand to you for a handshake, so you answered him willingly.

“Goodbye, guys, see ya!” you only waved at other lads as you climbed onto the running board and sat inside the car. The Rover started with a pleasant growl, vibrating under your hands. You drove off, leaving the men in the parking lot, but noticing one fixed look of chocolate eyes in the rearview mirror. You attributed the recognition of the color of his eyes to a million views of concert photos on the Internet, but not to those few seconds near the trunk when you smelled his cigarette breath on your face.

That will be a roller-coaster indeed

---------------------------------------------------

A/N: Please, let me know what do you think about this duo, what are you expecting from them, what do you want to read in the next chapter? Let's get to know each other better in comments - how long are you in fandom, what are your favorite type of fics and etc? Your feedback is my force to write, love you and stay tuned - a big adventure is going to happen 🤭❣️

I also publish the work on AO3:

[uniquesdata]

Things to Consider While Outsourcing Word Processing Services

Documents are crucial to any business and hence demand proper formatting and easy management of bulk data. Word processing services enhance the quality and organize the document with appropriate layout and alignment. Consider outsourcing while considering a few key points to choose the best partner.

[andsour]

from left to right : "strawbaby" by joori , "linlin" by meilin , "betty" by anna , "cinnam" by ryuhyun , "geumryeongi" by ej , and "jr. mint" by kenzie !!

honeyshoppe  is  a  brand  project  of  sanrio  ,  in  collaboration  with  honeylemon. it was announced in april of 2023 with the release of a twelve–part series on the girl group's youtube channel , documenting the process in which the brand was created , starting out as sketches by the members and then being further developed by a professional team of artists , marketing specialists , and toy manufacturers. to celebrate the official launch , a pop–up shop was held in seoul on april 30 , where the honeylemon members appeared and held a no–contact meet & greet.

since being launched , honeyshoppe have released various contents , from plushies and apparel to an animated web–series and recreations of honeylemon's music videos. they've also collaborated with numerous other trending brands , releasing honeyshoppe–themed makeup and skincare products , school and office supplies , and even ramen. most recently , the mobile game hello kitty island adventure was updated to include the honeyshoppe characters.

merchandise of  the  honeyshoppe  characters  is  available  for  purchase  on  both  the  seventh  heaven  shop  and  sanrio  websites  ,  but  are  quick  to  sell  out  online.  they’re  also  available  in  retail  stores  across  asia and the united states  ,  but  are  a  bit  more  scarce  elsewhere. to meet the demands of all fans , pop–up shops are also held around the globe.

[faintinggoatsyndrome]

Hi! 💗 here’s a tracker of how requesting a wheelchair from my 🇧🇪 goverment is going!! Will try to update lol.

For refrence: for diagnosis FND (non-epileptic seizures) so I can save energy and not have seizures consistently outside the house.

• Situations i use it:

- classes (1 day a week)

- long trips (bigger stores, shopping days, flea markets, conventions, theme parks, etc)

- to move me to a safe place during seizure

• The process so far:

1. Have GP fill in wheelchair perscription

— get rejected because though he agrees I should use one, I shouldn’t have one for free bcs I only use it for a % of time.

2. Ask Neurologist to fill in wheelchair perscripton

— (respectfully) fight w/ her for 30 minutes because I shouldn’t ‘give up’ mobility, and try treatment (in form of therapy; after 4 psych wards and currently consistent visits to psychologist & psychiatrist)

3. get wheelchair perscription from neurologist!!!!!! 🎉

4. Go to bandagist (mobility aid specialist) and go to wheelchair manufacturer to put in order

5. Get reeeeeejected! By the goverment!

— score of document was too low because it was filled in incorrectly

?. Give up for like a year and start using a secondhand wheelchair, notice how much freedom you have.

6. Email neurologist to refill in the document, adding the explanation of how to fill in the scores.

— (scores based on how you are during/post seizure, not just on a random tuesday)

7. Give document to a new bandagist

8. Bandagist asks for revision.

— though it was filled in, not every box was also crossed in lol

9. Ask for revision from Neurologist

10. Bandagist that document was filled in on the 2023 edition instead of 2024

— which!! You can only download the 2023 edition from the ✨official goverment website!!✨ it was never updated!!

11. Push back and ask them to take it up with the friggin goverment BRO

12. Say I’ll hear about making an appointment, but don’t hear anything.

13. Get called one morning asking if they can visit me in my house in an hOuR

14. Have consultation! Find out I need 1 more revision to the document to qualify for a possible power supply in the future.

— Find out I qualify for a ‘basic wheelchair’ that cannot be requested changes on, have to get revision to qualify and buy ‘modular wheelchair’ (means can have changes, but different from active wheelchair) only get 980 in goverment assistance for it (will have to pay 2200 euro extra) and then apply for power supply and hope I’ll get accepted after doctors consultation at a ‘specialized wheelchair team’.

15. Decide to go back to GP because asking Neurologist for a 4th time seems insane for that revision.

16. Get revision from GP! 🎉🎉

17. Find out I can’t just pay extra on top of goverment funding to afterwards request power supply!

18. Bandagist offers to change tactics and go all in; try to request a full active wheelchair (100% paid back; 100% harder to get)

19. Make appointment with ‘specialized wheelchair team’ (doctors I do not know) hoping a visit to them will get me the correct referral for this kind of wheelchair.

That’s where I am now; appointment is next week. I am terrified. We’ll see what happens! 💗

[lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe]

Personnel Files [IKYLHT]

Series Masterlist | Next: 141 & Rabbit Headcanons

-

Name: [REDACTED]

Callsign: Highwater (formerly), Rabbit

Rank: Gunnery Sergeant (E-7)

Occupation: Demon Dogs Operative, 0251 MOS Interrogator/Debrief Specialist

Affiliations: United States Marine Corps (formerly), Demon Dogs, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 26yr Female, 172cm, ‘Heavily’ Tattooed

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm. 

Note: Physical Examination cut short, patient held overnight in medical ward after severely injuring nurse practitioner. Sudden unprompted hysteria after [REDACTED], patient forcefully restrained. Absence of physical response to constraints- ceased movement and allowed for further restriction of movement in accordance to protocol. Negative emotional response to constraints- immediate increase in hysteria, cowering in expected physical harm, patient proceeded to [REDACTED], refused medical treatment. Evidence of trauma-response based attack. Unknown psychological trigger. Incident Number 9836573.

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm. 

Note: Recalled to active duty following brief unauthorized leave of absence after covert operation in [REDACTED], Mexico. Patient requested base transfer upon return, application denied until documentation of post-mission evaluation was received. Patient agreed to undergo aforementioned evaluation, halted after [REDACTED], Incident Number 9836573. Patient attended recommended Cognitive Processing Therapy following incident. Currently attending 1-1 Psychotherapy, prescribed Venlafaxine. Patient granted permission by PhD. Harrison to avoid medical institutions unless warranted by life-threatening illness or injury. 

-

Name: John ‘Johnny’ MacTavish

Callsign: Soap

Rank: Sergeant (E-5)

Occupation: SAS Operative, Sniper and Demolitions Expert

Affiliations: SAS, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 26yr Male, 183cm, Medium Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, Various Tattoos on Arms

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm. 

Note: Patient reports noticeable decline in migraine and fatigue following tinnitus treatment, as previously prescribed. Patient was recommended the continuation of such methods- avoiding caffeine and nicotine, limiting salt intake, increasing vitamin B12, and following proper PPE protocols.

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

-

Name: Simon Riley

Callsign: Ghost

Rank: Lieutenant (O-2)

Occupation: SAS Operative, Sabotage and Infiltration Expert

Affiliations: SAS, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 28yr Male, 192cm, Dark Blonde Hair, Brown Eyes, Half-Sleeve Tattoo on Right Forearm, Skull Plate Face Covering [On-Mission], Balaclava Face Covering [Off-Mission On-Base]

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient’s routine psychological evaluation is past-due. Clear for active duty, ordered to schedule annual check-up eval at earliest convenience. When questioned, patient admits to decline in attendance of 1-1 Psychotherapy regarding [REDACTED]. Declines request for therapy and/or medication regarding childhood PTSD. Declines request for medication regarding [REDACTED].

-

Name: Kyle Garrick

Callsign: Gaz

Rank: Sergeant (E-5)

Occupation: SAS Operative, Weapons Tactics and Covert Surveillance Expert

Affiliations: British Army (formerly), SAS, SAS Domestic Counter-Terror Program, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 24yr Male, 180cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient reports continued migraine and light sensitivity post-concussion. Prescribed Topiramate to manage temporary symptoms. Screened for excessive bleeding and hemorrhaging, no evidence of prolonged injury post blunt force trauma found. 

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

-

Name: Jonathan ‘John’ Price

Callsign: Bravo 0-6

Rank: Captain (O-3)

Occupation: 22nd SAS Regiment Captain, Close Quarter Battle Specialist, Seek-and-Strike Expert

Affiliations: British Army (formerly), SAS, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 36yr Male, 185cm, Medium Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, Full Beard

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient was recommended the use of Cyclobenzaprine for continued back pain and muscle spasms, denied fulfilling prescription due to inability to consume nicotine or alcohol while on medication. 

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient was recommended the use of Nitrazepam to provide short-term relief from severe anxiety and insomnia while off-duty, denied fulfilling prescription due to sedative properties and possibility of impaired judgment or coordination in the event of an unscheduled call back to base. 

-

Name: Alejandro Vargas

Callsign: N/A

Rank: Colonel (O-6)

Occupation: Mexican Special Forces Operative, Leader of Los Vaqueros

Affiliations: Mexican Army (formerly), Los Vaqueros, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 28yr Male, 186cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Various Arm Tattoos

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient recommended continuation of physical therapy for affected shoulder. 

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient noted displaying uncharacteristic signs of high stress. Unknown stress trigger. Recommended self-treatment: elimination of nicotine and caffeine from diet, substitution of herbal teas and remedies. Patient admitted as to previously declining aforementioned recommendations, notes having implemented recommendations under the order/care of [REDACTED]. Follow-up advised.

-

Name: Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra

Callsign: N/A

Rank: Sergeant Major (E-9)

Occupation: Mexican Special Forces Operative, Los Vaqueros Second-in-Command

Affiliations: Mexican Army (formerly), Los Vaqueros, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 28yr Male, 181cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Various Arm and Chest Tattoos

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient noted displaying signs of high stress, declined additional optional psychological screenings. Recommended time off-duty to mitigate stress, patient denied ability to leave base for extended periods of time.

-

Name: N/A

Callsign: Konig

Rank: Oberfeldwebel [Staff Sergeant, Technical Sergeant]

Occupation: KorTac Operative

Affiliations: Kommando Spezialkräfte (formerly), KorTac

Identifiers: 27yr Male, 198cm, Blue Eyes, Sniper Veil Face Covering

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: N/A

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: N/A

-

Name: Valeria Garza

Callsign: El Sin Nombre

Rank: N/A

Occupation: Leader of Las Almas Cartel, KorTac Operative

Affiliations: Mexican Special Forces (formerly), KorTac

Identifiers: 28yr Female, 168cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Various Tattoos on Arms

Physical Assessment: N/A

Psychological Evaluation: N/A

-

<3

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Sophie Perry at PinkNews:

The documents leaked by the Good Law Project and reported by QueerAF state that young people and their families who use “unregulated” and “overseas providers” for gender-affirming care should cease doing so, or they may face safeguarding referrals. Speaking with QueerAF, Jo Maugham KC – executive director of the Good Law Project – said: “It’s reasonable to describe this as an attempt to force people to detransition.” The document, which the Good Law Project states does not bear the name of any NHS professional, asks providers of mental health support to children and young people (CYP) to invite those on the national waiting list for gender services for a face-to-face appointment.

[...] Furthermore, at the assessment stage, the providers have been asked to follow recommendations of the Cass Review and advise children not to take puberty blockers or gender-affirming hormones obtained via routes without “appropriate care”. Whilst it is not stated what “appropriate care” refers to, the “overseas” routes being advised against. If a trans young person disregards such advice and a provider considers that this “puts the child/young person at increased risk, then a safeguarding referral may also be appropriate in line with standard safeguarding approaches”.

In essence, if a trans young person seeks private gender-affirming care and their parents support them, they could be referred to local authorities. [...\ In a statement provided to QueerAF following the publication of its report, a spokesperson for the NHS said that this process is about putting in place an “enhanced mental health support offer for all children and young people under 18 on the waiting list for specialist gender services, or who are awaiting their first appointment with the new services.”

England continues its not-so-sterling reputation as “TERF Island”, as trans kids in England could be forced to detransition following the Cass Review, per a leaked proposal from NHS England.

[quokkaholic]

Playlist🖤h.j

(Its Han. He’s the angel🤭)

Warnings: cussing, drinking (will update as I write more. pls lmk if I miss anything)

Synopsis: you and Han spend the evening getting to know each other at the bar and discover your shared interest in music.

Chapter 3

Igual que un ángel

——————————-

“So what do you do?” He inquires

Oh so he can know my job but I can’t know his? I hold back my urge to tease home about because it seems like it could be a sore subject for him.

“I’m a graduate student studying library science! I also work part time at my local library as a media specialist in music actually!”

He quickly responds with reverence in his tone.

“I didn’t know you had to go to school for that let alone get a masters degree. You must be genius. What does it mean?”

It’s refreshing to meet anyone, let alone a man, that is taking a genuine interest in me and doesn’t get intimidated by my education.

“I do all the normal librarian stuff with books and community work but I also manage a music database with songs, related information, and music history. The database is actually what I’m writing my thesis on. It’s a massive project so my collaborators and I will be working on it for a long ass time. It’ll be constantly updated as more music is made!” I gush.

“So it’s never done?” He points out and it triggers me to snicker.

“The point isn’t for it to be done, it a living document. The point is to compile music and music information for people to access freely. Right now it’s similar to a group Spotify that everyone in my library system can access, but the information will hopefully eventually be free and accessible to the public!”

“Wow! Actual genius!” He seems impressed by my work. He’s almost bursting at the seams with enthusiasm to share with me his own passion for music. Right before he’s about to get too lost in the excitement about it, a thought seems to bring him back down, and he asks if i have included K-pop in the database. He must be worried we’re over looking his culture.

“Oh so far the we have prioritized songs in English but next in line is Latin music because it’s more relevant to our community. I’m working on now since I have a previous interest in it. The database is definitely bias in its early stage due to humans working on it. We don’t really have anyone into K-pop in our team.” I let confess.

“Is that why you’re in Korea?” He seems a little stoic about it now.

“Oh fuck no. I’m here on vacation! I love traveling and my bachelors degree is in cultural studies!” I don’t want him to think I’m taking advantage of this interaction for work purposes.

“We are also integrating AI because of the sheer volume of information we have to process. So it’s totally possible no actual person will ever work on K-pop beyond being the checks and balances to AI, but it will most certainly be included!”

I’m worried I’ve scared him off with all this geek talk and academic jargon and quickly pivot the conversation.

We spend the rest of the evening absolutely spilling our guts to each other probably due to the lowered inhibitions. We chat about our families and friends, all sorts of favorites from anime to seasons to hobbies. We talk about our youth and our rebelious teenage phases. He jokes that mine hasn’t ended and gestures to my visible piercings and tattoos. He claims he has some as well; they’re just hidden. It’s definitely the alcohol, but I have to fight my mind to maintain concentration on the conversation rather than imagine what art he has hiding under his button down. To rein myself back in, I show him pictures of my sweet baby kitties who I miss so much. We talk about our travels and share photos of our destinations. There are a few guys that keep making appearances in the photos. It’s enough times that that I have to ask about them.

“My brothers” he says almost as if it’s obvious.

“That quite a few brothers” is all I can think to say in response.

“Found family I think is what it’s called”

“Oh I completely understand” I say as I pull up a photo of my best friend since she came to my elementary school.

“We’ve lived as sisters since we were like 10. My mother is a single mom to me and my siblings, my bestie’s family stepped in to fill in the gaps.”

Han seems touched by the sentiment. I’m glad we both cherish the fact that family isn’t just who you share blood with.

Even after we finish the soju and share plates of snacks, we never run out of things to gab about. I finally think to check my phone, and I’m instantly awestruck. It’s half TWO IN THE MORNING! “Han look at the time!” I implore exasperatedly as I point the phone toward him.

“Holy shit” he simply breathes out as his jaw drops. Our surprise turns to amazement and then embarrassment. Han, for a final time, beckons the barkeep and speaks to him in Korean.

“Is he bringing the checks?” I question and Han just nods his head as he sips the last bit of his water. It was so easy to lose track of time while talking to him not to mention the bar is no where near empty. Koreans really don’t fuck around when it comes to night life. When he said shit you realize that was the first time he cussed all night.

“I should have asked way sooner, but did I offend you with my foul language? I noticed you don’t really say bad words.”

“Oh no! I’m just used to avoiding them to remain professional I guess. I like that you can curse freely. It’s refreshing.”

Though it wasn’t technically a compliment, hearing it come from his mouth, I can’t help but take it that way. As we talked the bartender brings the check, just one. Before i can object Han has already paid the tab.

“Can I escort you back?” He requests.

I’m reaching in to my bag to grab my earbuds for the journey,

“I couldn’t ask you to do that! You’ve already been so kind to me, Han. You paid for my tab, thank you so much for that, and made this a fun evening. I’m sure you have work in the morning, I’ll be okay.”

Now he’s the one blushing. He’s trying to play it cool, but he can’t even make eye contact when he says,

“I want to. You didn’t ask, I did.”

How could I ever say no to him?

“Okay but just to the station”

As I go to put the earbuds up he puts his hand over mine. Does he want to hold hands!? Fuck it, I move my hand to go for his but he swiftly grabs one of my earbuds and places it in his ear.

“Maestro” he says in a posh accent and with an airy hand movement gestures to my phone. He wants me to play dj. Why do I feel like this is a test?

“What do you want to hear?” I ask

“What do you have?” He responds and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Just name any genre or mood or, fuck it, specific situation, and I potentially have a playlist for it”

“You like rap?” What a silly question.

I tilt my phone screen towards him and begin to type a rap in the search bar of my playlists just so we could see the sheer volume of them I have.

“You want female rap? hype rap? early 2000s rap? Emo rap?”

“What about rock?” He retorts

“You like classic rock? New age? Rock songs that are nostalgic to me? Rock that makes me speed in the car? Punk rock?”

He really thinks he’s stumped you with his next request.

“What about country?” He says with a playful and slightly competitive glance.

“You like old country? Gay cowboy country? country about hating your husband? Country songs so sad they should be banned from Spotify?”

He has turned this into a little game we are both utterly enjoying. Once he’s exhausted all the main genres, we’ve made it to the station. Neither of us are even toying with the idea of him going home anymore as we wait for the train together. He circles back to when I said scenarios and wants to know about those playlists. I show him my playlist for grocery shopping and shower concerts, but also the more obscure ones like walking through the streets of London and night out in Madrid. He stops me when he sees the one I’ve created for this trip.

“oh that one’s not finished yet” I try to steer him away from it, but he’s not taking the bait.

“That’s the one I want.” He states as the train pulls in. He sits beside me, I can’t ignore the warmth of our shoulders touching. The silence between us is comfortable as we both slightly tap our legs and bounce our heads to the music. He leans in close and puts his lips next to my ear to whisper as to not disturb our fellow passengers. He wants to borrow my phone for a second. Feeling his breath on my neck, all I can do is nod in response. I assume he’s gonna change the song or something. I don’t want him to feel like I’m watching his every move, so I close my eyes and try to take in the song. It’s taking him longer than I’d expect, but maybe he’s just not used to my phone or navigating in English. The song never changes and he hands the phone back to me. The ride is not long at all, and soon we are at my stop. Han gets off the train with me, but I stop at the stairs.

“Thank you so much for your escort, but I cannot allow you to walk me to the hostel.” I say putting my foot down.

“You’ve already come this far. I know you have work tomorrow; you need to get home!” I warn in a cheerful but serious tone grabbing his shoulder. I can’t help but mom him a little. Even though we are basically still strangers, I want the best for him, and that means at least a few hours of sleep before work.

“I’m going home! But first can I maybe get your number?”

He implores with a coy look and big eyes while holding out his phone with both hands, and it’s already open to the create a contact page. I enter my name and digits and snap a quick picture from that silly angle where are you can truly see if our foreheads. That causes his to giggle a little. Fuck it sounds so good every time. I hand the phone back.

“Thank you yet again for this Han. I had a wonderful time with you.”

He responds with something in Korean and bows slightly to me which I return. When I look up he’s headed to another platform and all I can do is turn around and walk to my hostel with a giant, stupid grin.

——————-

A.n. Thank y’all so much for reading this. Writing this has made me feel more connected to my fellow STAY 💜 also I fear this is going to be quite the long story. Maybe one day I’ll add it to ao3 or something

-Mo🩵

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