#fan pathogen

[jediknightjameslunagazer23]

I've been back at it again, creating a new pathogen for my fan-made Trauma Center virus, which was originally called the Zeta Virus, but I decided to change the name to Chimaera, as I'm considering the idea of the pathogens belonging to this virus being kind of fused concepts of previous pathogens from G.U.I.L.T/NEO-G.U.I.L.T and possibly even Stigma depending on where I decide to set the story of this virus.

Also added some technical details of this pathogen, sort of treating it like it's a researcher making notes of the observations made, whether its the main villans who created it or Caduceus is up to you to decide.

Haven't fully come up with a treatment plan for this thing yet, as I'm still developing it as I go, but I might go into more detail, should I expand on the shadowy body under the main body...

Haven't named this thing yet, as I kinda wanted to deviate from the Greek mythology that Trauma Center is known for with the naming scheme, but couldn't find that many options other than the ones that I thought sounded cool, nor what the overall theme will be for the pathogens, including how many there'll be.

As for the pathogen, it would be treated more as an Early or Mid-Game major boss to end off a particular act of the game, with it having possibly two or three phases, with one requiring the Healing Touch or alternatively, James' Soothing Choir ability.

If this were a game, I'd imagine it being like New Blood with selectable characters, bit instead of it being limited to two, you'd probably have 4 or 5 characters to chose from depending on where you are with the plot, as this would be with the Switch or PC in mind, and this could have a gameplay mechanic of certain characters preferring one or the other as you can chose your assistant nurse at certain points as well, and it can lead to various benefits of better synergy or better tool effects.

However, for certain story operations, you're stuck with the surgeon that's best suited against major boss fight pathogens, kinda like Markus and Valerie's introduction operations for their Healing Touch abilities, in this case it will be James Lunagazer and whoever you chose to be his assistant nurse or surgeon in that chapter for example.

I'm also considering the idea of the Pathogens having one of the Villains of the Bio-terrorist organisation possess the power of Healing Touch or some other Greek theme related power to make it more challenging and personal, kind of like the X-Missions where the villains taunt the player, but having a more active role, and less extreme in difficulty.

However, as a result, these pathogens are much more aggressive, not counting the fact that due to their fused concept nature, they are highly unstable to the point that they can even attack the operating surgeon, such as knocking a tool away or possibly infecting them.

Anyway, I think I've gone off on enough of a tangent, I'll probably make a follow up to this where I explain a major mechanic in my ideal James Lunagazer story involving his Soothing Choir ability and by extension how it affects similar powers to the Healing Touch.

[rxttenfish]

in similar bitching, theres a horror post floating around that i'd LOVE to reblog except one of the fucking memes on there is just bitching about "elevated horror" that i swear does SO much worse. like, yeah, sure! just casually imply that fucking CRONENBERG movies have no themes to them! theres no deeper meaning to the thing! clearly nightmare on elm street has no deeper meaning going on beneath the surface and youre clearly stupid for pretending so!

[purkinje-effect]

"I'm doing this for you, not me. Your well-being will always outweigh my capacity for selfishness."

(uncropped under the cut)

"I know you'll always be back for me."

[theloverstomb]

‘Fragile Microbiomes’ by bio-artist Anna Dumitriu

1. SYPHILIS DRESS- This dress is embroidered with images of the corkscrew-shaped bacterium which causes the sexually transmitted disease syphilis. These embroideries are impregnated with the sterilised DNA of the Nichols strain of the bacterium - Treponema pallidum subsp. pallidum - which Dumitriu extracted with her collaborators.

2. MICROBE MOUTH- The tooth at the centre of this necklace was grown in the lab using an extremophile bacterium which is part of the species called Serratia (Serratia N14) that can produce hydroxyapatite, the same substance that tooth enamel is made from.

The handmade porcelain teeth that make up this necklace have been coated with glazes derived from various bacterial species that live in our mouths and cause tooth decay and gum disease, including Porphyromonas gingivalis, which can introduce an iron-containing light brown stain to the glaze.

3. TEETH MARKS: THE MOST PROFOUND MYSTERY- In his 1845 essay “On Artificial Teeth”, W.H. Mortimer described false teeth as “the most profound mystery” because they were never discussed. Instead, people would hide the stigma of bad teeth and foul breath using fans.

This altered antique fan is made from animal bone and has been mended with gold wire, both materials historically used to construct false teeth (which would also sometimes incorporate human teeth). The silk of the fan and ribbon has been grown and patterned with two species of oral pathogens: Prevotella intermedia and Porphyromonas gingivalis. These bacteria cause gum disease and bad breath, and the latter has also recently been linked to Alzheimer’s disease.

4. PLAGUE DRESS- This 1665-style 'Plague Dress' is made from raw silk, hand-dyed with walnut husks in reference to the famous herbalist of the era Nicholas Culpeper, who recommended walnuts as a treatment for plague. It has been appliquéd with original 17th-century embroideries, impregnated with the DNA of Yersinia pestis bacteria (plague). The artist extracted this from killed bacteria in the laboratory of the National Collection of Type Cultures at the UK Health Security Agency.

The dress is stuffed and surrounded by lavender, which people carried during the Great Plague of London to cover the stench of infection and to prevent the disease, which was believed to be caused by 'bad air' or 'miasmas'. The silk of the dress references the Silk Road, a key vector for the spread of plague.

5. BACTERIAL BAPTISM- based on a vintage christening gown which has been altered by the artist to tell the story of research into how the microbiomes of babies develop, with a focus on the bacterium Clostridioides difficile, originally discovered by Hall and O’Toole in 1935 and presented in their paper “Intestinal flora in new-born infants”. It was named Bacillus difficilis because it was difficult to grow, and in the 1970s it was recognised as causing conditions from mild antibiotic-associated diarrhoea to life-threatening intestinal inflammation. The embroidery silk is dyed using stains used in the study of the gut microbiome and the gown is decorated with hand-crocheted linen lace grown in lab with (sterilised) C. difficile biofilms. The piece also considers how new-borns become colonised by bacteria during birth in what has been described as ‘bacterial baptism’.

6. ZENEXTON- Around 1570, Swiss physician and alchemist Theophrastus Paracelsus coined the term ‘Zenexton’, meaning an amulet worn around the neck to protect from the plague. Until then, amulets had a more general purpose of warding off (unspecified) disease, rather like the difference today between ‘broad spectrum’ antibiotics and antibiotics informed by genomics approaches which target a specific organism.

Over the next century, several ideas were put forward as to what this amulet might contain: a paste made of powdered toads, sapphires that would turn black when they leeched the pestilence from the body, or menstrual blood. Bizarre improvements were later made: “of course, the toad should be finely powdered”; “the menstrual blood from a virgin”; “collected on a full moon”.

This very modern Zenexton has been 3D printed and offers the wearer something that genuinely protects: the recently developed vaccine against Yersinia pestis, the bacterium that causes plague.

[dyli-dadi3]

Kinktober

Day three: Aphrodisiacs

Unlike other airborne pathogens that make you sick, this one just makes you incredibly horny for a man you met today. Thankfully he's incredibly horny for you, too. Spores not included.

Summary: After inhaling spores, you become overwhelmed with desire. Who else better to scratch that itch deep inside of you than an attractive man who you've been fighting off zombies with? Tags: Smut (p in v), aphrodisiac, begging, mentions of death

“It’s going to be okay, agent. I got you…” Leon mumbled, holding onto your arm as he bent to your level. “I’m going to find an antidote or something.” He said, biting his lip as he watched your sweat bead on your brow, your eyes sipping closed as your parted lips let a pained groan slip out.

You led Leon to a cathedral, promising it would explain the horrible things happening to the United States, hell, the world. “I can’t explain… it’s just better to show it.” You had promised him, and he followed. He had doubts about you; if you had anything to do with it, he wasn’t letting his guard down anytime soon. He had dealt with betrayal enough times to be cautious around a pretty face.

The next moments went in a blur; fighting off the horde that prevented the two of you from entering the damn building in the first place, the strange trials the two of you had to complete to open the secret passageway to the basement of the cathedral, and then the rather unfortunate luck of a bioweapon emerging from the fog, threatening the lives of everyone in the vicinity. The two of you had managed to keep most of the refugees safe. Can’t help that some people don’t heed the lucid warning of “Stay back! This thing’s dangerous!” 

Don’t change the fact that Leon still mourns the loss of every citizen, every agent, or soldier who lost their lives to this unfair world.

Doesn’t mean that you weren’t hurt. Or, at least, that’s what he thinks is wrong with you. That… thing sprayed you with some sort of blue spore when you delivered the final shotgun bullet in point blank range, the particles being immediately inhaled into your lungs. Leon watched in horror as you coughed and sputtered, stumbling out of the cloud and towards him. “Are you okay?” He asked you, watching as your hand fanned the air around you. 

“Y-Yeah, i-it’s… fine…” You started, eyes widening as your knees grew weak and the start of something formed in the bottom of your gut. The feeling was strange, but it wasn't stopping you from pushing on—no need to worry Agent Kennedy!

Well, by golly, he was pretty worried now.

The two of you had gotten to an underground lab and you had immediately collapsed onto the floor littered with some fancy medical paper filled to the brim with notes from various experiments. He was sitting with you, hand on your forehead only to pull back in shock at the burning temperature of your smooth skin. 

“You're burning up…” Leon pointed out softly, only to get a whimper from you in return. “I know that. I feel like I'm wearing a sweater and fuzzy socks in the Sahara.” You huffed, only to cover your face. Your tummy turned, a ball of molten lava warming your core and addling your mind.

“Sorry, Agent Kennedy, I just feel all fuzzy and hot… I know that's not an excuse to talk back to my superior.” You apologized, and Leon just rolled his eyes. 

“Don't worry about that formality bullshit. Let’s just focus on getting you better.” Leon started, moving to stand up when your hand grasped him.

“No!” You gasped, the sudden feeling of despair and emptiness filling the pit of your stomach was alarming. As if the very thought of him leaving you left your pussy weeping.

Wait.

What?

By all means, you thought Leon was the sexiest, most attractive man you knew. The way he cared for everyone was admirable and wasn't lost on you. His kindness pulled you in like a magnet, but you stopped yourself from getting too delusional. After all, he'd hate you once he figured out why you led him to the cathedral.

But you were shocked by the sudden desire to throw yourself into his arms like a crying child to his mommy. You felt like crying.

This was embarrassing.

“I just me-mean that I don't want you to leave me… -Fuck.” You sputtered, hand flying back to your side as you flushed in embarrassment. You spiraled as your mind conjured up all the demeaning things Leon was probably thinking about your pathetic display of dependency.

Leon's eyes widened at your little moment, more concerned than offended. He needed to do something. You were glistening in drops of sweat, and now you were starting to lose coherency and your temperament. He saw how you squinted as if your brain struggled to form thoughts and even then, they were still words he would never hear you say in the right state of mind.  

He had no idea of the arousal that was wreaking havoc in your lower stomach, the inhuman mess that was beginning to wet your underwear. To him, you just looked like you had a fever.

To you, it was an overwhelming desire to have the man in front of you. You felt like some sort of bitch in heat as your mind drowned in need. Your body was taught as you desperately fought the urge to pounce on your higher-up.

A whine slipped past your trembling lips and Leon froze. What was that supposed to mean? He leaned in, trying to figure out why you were so squirmy. He wanted to find some sort of medicine for you. You guys were in a lab for heaven’s sake. Probably the same lab that made that abomination of a BOW straight out of a trypophobe’s nightmare, but you were adamant about him staying.

The proximity made your head spin, his scent invading your senses as your will dissolved like cotton candy in water.

“Please!” You begged, grabbing his shoulders and hanging your head in mortification as to what you had just said.

“What do you want me to do?” Leon strained, getting more and more worried by the second. His hands hovered over your waist, trying to keep some air of professionalism and respect despite your wandering hands.

Okay, that was confusing. Leon watched in concern as your hands slid down his arms.

You didn't say a word, too embarrassed to voice your need, so you just whimpered and squeezed your thighs. 

The relief was instant. 

A moan slipped past your lips as your thighs shook. If just this little movement was enough to get you like this, you were stuck imagining what it would feel like if you gave in, if he was the only thing allowing you respite. The thought brought on another wave of heat, and you struggled to imagine how you were going to get through this without losing the ever-growing battle of fighting your arousal. 

You already gave up on the struggle to not touch him, and look at you now. Your face hung in embarrassment as your hands felt the firm musculature of his arms, body leaning in to share his warmth, to smell his scent. Your mind swirled with a myriad of impure thoughts, and you nearly came when Leon finally touched you.

“What’s wrong?” Leon finally asked after he softly placed a hand on the small of your back, as if he’d hurt you, his eyes widening as he saw you shiver. You were making noises that he was trying to ignore, to rationalize… Something to explain why you were making the sounds that went straight to his dick despite his best efforts.

“It hurts.” You whimpered, practically sobbing through the first words you had said in a while. You were practically on top of him now, your arms had circled back up to wrap around his neck. His compliance made you needy, trying to milk this horse for all he’s worth. 

God, with how horny you were, milking him dry seemed necessary.

“What hurts, sweet girl?” He said softly, the lines of professionalism blurring like chalk on a rainy day. The walls he tried to put up throughout your brief partnership were virtually nonexistent. The sight of you in pain hurt him, too, and with the way you were clinging onto him like he was damn Mosiah himself, how could he not give you anything you wanted? Anything to help you feel better.

Call it the hero complex, but he couldn’t shake the thought that he was the reason you were like this. He didn’t shield you properly, turned to help steady a survivor instead of keeping his eyes on you. God, he never wanted to keep his eyes off of you, Raccoon City fucked up his underdeveloped brain and rewired it to be a fiend for women who could handle a gun. 

That name had you gasping, clambering onto his lap as you pressed your nose into his neck. Your lips brushed his skin as you breathed him in, gripping him so tightly that your knuckles turned white. “Everything…I need you, Agent Kenedy.” You begged, tentatively pressing a kiss to the column of his throat.

You had him groaning as he settled you down on his lap. “Is that right?” He whispered, mirroring your actions to the top of your head. The smell of blood and gunpowder was strong, but if he focused hard enough, he could make out the notes of your shampoo. 

“Mhm…” You slurred, panting into his skin as you pressed yourself to his bulge. Your eyes rolled back as you practically convulsed on his lap, so pent up that even that could bring you to ecstasy. You begged and begged for more as you began rubbing against him. 

Leon hissed at you and started moving, grabbing your hips to help you. “So needy, huh?” He said with a sigh, watching as you acted so desperately. He said he’d do anything to help, and if making you cum was the answer, then he was buckling up for a long ride. It’s the law, he thinks with a chuckle.

He watched as your face began to scrunch up. “Aww, need more, princess?” His voice dripped like honey. He didn’t need you to speak, he saw how you tried to nod through your haze. That was all the confirmation he needed to turn you around on his lap, unzipping your jeans and slipping a hand past the fabric of your underwear. 

“Fuck… You’re dripping, honey.” Leon moaned, wasting no time to finger fuck your tight cunt. “She’s just beggin’ for it…” He whispered, scissoring you. “Beggin' for my thick cock to stuff her full.” He rambled, working himself into a frenzy as he saw you babbling. So turned on you couldn’t even properly respond. 

You just nodded, moaning in hopes that he could tell how ready you were for him. You needed him, his praise, his touch, his dick. The latter making itself known as it twitched against your ass. You couldn’t take it, the spores a distant memory lingering in your nose as you were convinced you’d die if Leon didn’t breed you. You needed him rabbiting his load into you, you wouldn’t see straight without it.

You didn’t have to hope for long, since, just one desperate plea from you, Leon was opening up the front of his pants to slide into your sticky cunt. You sobbed, the feeling of his cock splitting you open was mind-numbing and clarifying at the same time. It made your mind spin, but the haze was already clearing, the aching in your entire being finally letting up. You needed more, needed him to fix you. With every bounce on his rigid cock, you were closer and closer to relief from the burning heat that consumed your body ever since that stupid BOW sprayed you. 

Squeezing his fat cock like a vice was instinctual, impaling yourself second nature, the haze making you seek your body’s most primal needs. You couldn’t think, mind wired to take his cock like a good bitch, and by golly you were good. Poor old Leon whined as you got him all wound up and ready to bust a load into you, balls scrunching in anticipation.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna breed this greedy pussy. That’s what she wants, isn’t it? This whole time she’s been beggin’ for my cum.” He huffed, bringing his index and middle finger to your aching clit. He rubbed tight circles onto the slippery nub, whimpering when you immediately clenched around him. 

“Yes, Yes! I need it… Need you to breed me.” You sobbed, creaming all over his length as he fucked you into oblivion. 

“Shit, couldn’t pull out if I tried.” Leon moaned, snapping his hips up into you in shallow thrusts until his balls tensed and he shot ropes into your pussy. You felt complete, the fog clearing for a moment until you felt empty again. 

You huffed, moving your hips again before Leon could say Sweetheart. He convulsed, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back.

“Fuck…”

[reiderwriter]

Hii! Could you write a Spencer x fem reader, she's extremely confident & forward and Spencer gets all flustered, shy and overwhelmed at how forward she is with flirting with him and complimenting him (even tho he loves it), thank you:-)

A/N: This was such a cute request, thanks for sending it in! I love shy and oblivious Spencer he's so silly and cute ㅠㅠ

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Spencer Reid is a genius. But if he hasn't noticed you've been flirting with his for a week straight, he must be an idiot. Non-BAU!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol intake. Kissing. Slightly suggestive ending.

Here's my masterlist, requests are open! 🎉

Working with the FBI as a consultant on a case was practically a dream come true for you, but what was even more dreamy was the man you got to work with whilst consulting. You’d arrived bright and early, really eager to help with the case you’d been called in for. On the phone, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner had asked for your help decoding some documents that the team thought had something to do with the Literature you were teaching as part of your course at a local university.

In all honesty, you were a massive fan of detective novels, an early love for Agatha Christie and the Golden Age of mystery making you entertain an idea in law enforcement before you decided that really wasn’t for you, so you were eager to help out in anyway you could fathom.

“One of our Special Agents, Doctor Reid, has decoded most of it, but he says there are some key areas he may be missing and he wants to pick your brains, to see if you can help him come up with something,” he said, guiding you into a small sideroom.

Having previously heard that Doctor Spencer Reid had achieved no less than three PhDs and three additional Bachelor's Degrees in varying subjects, you weren’t quite sure to expect when walking into the room. You certainly weren’t expecting one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen in your life to be sat reading through a pretty thick tome at an incredible speed.

“Reid, this is Professor Y/L/N, she’s here to help you decode the cypher. Professor, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Hotchner introduced you, but as soon as you picked your jaw up off the floor, you instantly stepped forward.

“Please, call me Y/N. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you… Spencer was it?” You smile and stick out your hand. You notice the flush on the man's face and your grin grows even wider as he hesitates to take your hand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really shake hands, the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” He stutters through the words, almost struggling to get them out, but you don’t falter for a second.

“Kiss me then,” you say smirking up at him and you realise that the other agent had since left the room, leaving you alone with the object of your affections. Ignoring your response, but face tinged such a bright shade of red that you knew he was effected by it, he dives into the facts of the case.

“We think that he’s using some kind of cypher based on some books you’ve been researching recently at the University, which means we think he could possibly be a student of yours. I read through your PhD thesis this morning, and there are certain commonalities that suggest you could be the key to solving some of our unknowns.”

“You read my thesis? What did you think of it?” you ask, moving to sit in the chair directly next to him, scooting it a little bit closer than was polite.

“I don’t have a degree in Literature of the Renaissance Period, so I’m not sure how much value my opinion really holds in this scenario,” he looks at you and you’re pleasantly surprised at how genuine he’s being.

“Well, you’ve seen mine, can I see yours?” you allow the cogs in his brain to keep turning for a few seconds then continue. “I’m sure with three PhDs to your name, you’ve probably got a few research papers floating about, right?”

“Oh….” he blushes again, turning his eyes away from you and doing his best not to make eye contact. “I’m sure I could send them to you after we’ve completed this case if you think they would allow you a deeper insight into any of my fields of study.” He coughs a little to hide the way his voice pitched up as he spoke and kept his eyes trained on the book in his hands.

This consulting role was going to be the most fun you’d had in weeks.

–X–

A week later, you found yourself sat at a bar, surrounded by the members of the BAU team celebrating another case closed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to fully partake in their merryments exactly. You’d assumed, after an entire week of flirting very openly with Reid, that when he’d asked you to the bar that evening to celebrate wrapping up the case, he’d meant just the two of you. Alas, you had discovered over the week that not only was he the most adorable man you’d ever met, he was also the most oblivious. Impressive for a man with an IQ of 187.

You couldn’t complain too much. Your help on the case had meant the rescue of two young girls, two of your students in undergrad courses nonetheless, so you’d at least made a difference. You had nothing against the rest of the team either, having become fast friends with Garcia, and enjoying your twenty minutes of small ltalk in the morning at the coffee station with Prentiss, Morgan and JJ as well. Hell, you even loved Rossi, who gave off the fun Uncle vibe that you found rounded out the team well. But you couldn’t curb your disappointment still, so you distanced yourself from the table a bit and removed yourself to the bar to grab yourself a new drink. You stayed there for a few minutes to nurse it.

“Hello, beautiful,” the man sat at the barstool next to you leered down at you, “you looking for some company in the bottom of that glass tonight?” He winked at you and your skin crawled. It wasn’t just his creepy smile, and the disgusting way he dragged his eyes over your body, it was that he was also very likely older than your own father. Some people were into that, but you certainly weren’t

“Not today, thanks,” you said, hoping that would be enough to get him to leave you in peace, but of course it wasn’t.

“Hot piece of ass like you, you need a real man to take care of you.” He pushed his hand out and for a split second you were convinced he was going to make an attempt to smack your ass. Before he was able to make contact, and, perhaps more importantly, before you could be arrested for aggravated assault, a hand was wrapping around your hip and pulling you away from the man, your back colliding with a firm chest behind you.

“Y/N, Special Agent Hotchner is about to leave and he wanted to thank you for coming to consult for us. The FBI is always really grateful for conscientious citizens like you willing to help us keep the streets safe.” Spencer turned you around and said, emphasising words to make it clear what his job was, speaking loudly enough that you knew the words were only for the creep behind you who’d thought to lay a hand on you.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said as the man downed the rest of his drink and made to leave the bar, obviously embarrassed and threatened by Spencer’s arrival. He made to loosen his grip on you as the man left, but you through your arms around his neck, not letting him leave. If this was your last opportunity to make him realise what you wanted, you absolutely weren’t going to let it get away from you.

“I wanted to thank you for this week as well, Spencer. Hotch said it was you that recommended me for the consulting role.” He blushed and stood there a little awkwardly, but made no move to leave, his hands unmoving from your hips. It reminded you of your middle school prom, in all honesty.

“Oh that’s no big deal. It worked out pretty well in the end, though, right, with your students and everything.” You nodded and thanked him again, but you were still pretty reluctant to see him walk away, back to the table filled with his closest friends and colleagues.

“So, are you looking forward to going back home? I’m sure your boyfriend or husband or whatever will be really glad to see you again.” He mumbled and you felt your heart stop for a second.

“Spencer, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a husband, or any kind of partner for that matter. I’m sorry if I made you think I do,” you saw his eyes widen in panic a little, and you relaxed a bit yourself as he started to talk again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed that someone as pretty as you couldn’t be single.” He stuttered every single word out, and you didn’t quite register his words for a second.

“You think I’m pretty?” you ask looking up at him and he gapes down at you, realising this conversation is just him shooting himself in the foot over and over again.

“Shit… what I mean is…Y/N you have to know you’re gorgeous, right?” It was your turn to blush then, feeling the sincerity in his words.

“You know, I thought you were asking me out on a date tonight.” You tell him, watching his entire face crumple again in distress.

“But I told you we were going out to celebrate finishing the case!” He spoke in his defence.

“Spencer, what were your exact words?”

“Y/N, do you want to grab a drink tonight? It would be nice to celebrate now that the case is closed and- oh. OH.” The realisation dawned on his face, and you enjoyed the little look of devastation that played out there as his blush deepened.

“It’s fine, Spencer, really. If you’re not interested in me, you’re not interested, I get it.” You sighed, finally moving to let him go, resigned to your fate now.

“Wait, Y/N, that’s not what I meant!” He grabbed you by the hand gently, not quite as close as you were the moment before but still standing notably close. You realised you probably had an audience for this.

“I didn’t realise that you’d want to go on a date with me, you’re so beautiful and smart, I just never thought you’d be interested.” Your brain almost exploded with that, and you had to make a conscious effort to not have your jaw drop to the floor, but apparently the man wasn’t finished. “I just assumed you had a flirty personality, and like, really look at you and then look at me-” you absolutely had to cut him off before he said anything else, so you did.

Crashing your lips up into his was the most sensible thing you’d done since stepping into the bar that evening. He was statuesque at first, unmoving while your lips pressed against him, but he warmed up to it and began kissing you back with equal fervor. You moved the hands that were holding yours to your waist, then moved your own hands up to tangle in his hair, playing with a few curls at the base of his neck.

After a few minutes, you finally pulled away to see a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Oh. Oh, I see now,” was all he could get out, unable to form more words as he panted into the space between you,

“Yeah? That’s good. I’ve been flirting with you all week, so it’s nice of you to finally notice.” You giggle up at him slowly, and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“What should….what should I do now?” He asked, obviously a little bit unsure of himself, and happy to let you take the lead.

“Well, you can either take me back to your place now, or you could start with asking me out on that date?” He looked like he was seriously weighing up his options for a minute, before he looked you in the eye again.

“Can I do both?”

--X--

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @kspencer34

[unequivocallyreid]

Stay With Me Till Morning

hi guys! another fic for you :) i got a little carried away at the end, but you know how it goes. this is for any munch!spencer fans 🤗

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary:

Spencer and you are co-workers, strictly co-workers, despite your feelings for him. A few nights sharing a room won’t change that, right?

warnings: mentions of body-specific insecurity, fluff, smut, oral sex (fem receiving)

wc: 3.2k

if i missed anything let me know!

One of the worst things about being a newbie, at any job, is coming into a place where connections have already been made. Working at the FBI, more specifically the BAU, was no different.

Now don’t get the wrong idea, working there was a dream for you, but there was no doubt that you were severely lacking in personal relationships compared to others. Derek and Reid had a sort of brotherly bond, JJ and Emily’s like sisters, and Hotch and Rossi’s went unspoken but still glaringly obvious. You existed in their orbit, and while you had all grown to love each other, you still felt a bit like an outsider sometimes.

Unfortunately for you, this feeling intensified whenever the topic of room sharing came up. Sure there were benefits, like having a room to yourself on occasion, but usually it just served to worsen your imposter syndrome.

The case that you were working currently, sans Rossi (he was on a book tour following his latest release), pushed this feeling to surface even more.

You all were in Upstate New York investigating a series of homicides that seemed to mimic a string of murders that had occurred 20 years ago. The town you were in was on the smaller side, so the only place you could find accommodations was a small bed and breakfast.

Said BnB did not have enough rooms available for anyone to ride solo, and with Rossi gone, Hotch and Morgan were buddied up, leaving Emily and JJ and Reid and you. Naturally, Emily and JJ bunked up together, leaving you to share a room with the boy wonder.

It’s not that you didn’t like Reid, quite the opposite actually, you liked him too much. You’ve always had a propensity for falling incredibly deeply incredibly fast, and when you met Spencer for the first time you proved you reputation correct.

Your first impression probably put him off slightly, but he was gracious enough not to show it. When Hotch introduced you, the first thing you thought was how ridiculous attractive the man in front of you was. His high cheekbones and big, brown eyes drew you in immediately. To make matters worse, he was fucking adorable. After snapping back to reality, you offered Spencer your hand, which he declined citing the pathogens and it being safer to kiss.

In one of your more impressive displays of cluelessness you said, “I think we could make that happen.”

This caused Spencer to flush and a ghost of a smile to grace Hotch’s face. Thankfully, in the last few months you had redeemed yourself slightly, developed a rapport with the doctor, and stood by hopelessly as you crush developed into a nasty little monster.

So, no sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t really an issue, but still, might just be the thing that breaks you.

~

“There’s only one fucking bed?”

You’d spoke far too soon.

After assuring Spencer you were completely fine and not at all uncomfortable with sharing a room with him, you and him walked together to your room, only to find a scene straight out of a shitty romance novel.

When Spencer heard you and noticed that there was in fact, only one bed, he immediately said, “I can sleep on the couch.”

Maybe you should’ve just agreed and saved yourself from a week of sexual frustration, but you couldn’t.

“Spence, that couch is maybe five feet long. I don’t even think I could sleep on it.”

You looked at him then to muster up some courage, “We can share the bed. We’re both adults.”

He looked slightly pained, which panicked you a bit. God, how fucking embarrassing.

“Or I can take the couch. I wont let you, but if you’re uncomfortable I can. I’m a bit shorter.”

Spencer hurried to speak, “No!”

His outburst took you by surprise but he quickly went on.

“I mean, no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to be at all or feel like I’m forcing you to sleep with me. Fuck, or I mean next to me-“

You cut him off before he could fall into a tailspin.

“We’ll share then.”

~

Sharing the bed had actually not been that bad for you at first. You were on your third day in New York, and you were making steady progress on the case. Hopefully, it would be wrapped up in a day or two.

Aside from the fact that you barely spent any time in the room, you had managed to stay on your side bed. The only spot of trouble was the dreams you were having, dreams about the person next to you that would turn even the worst sinner’s cheeks red. Still, Reid was acting no different, so at least you were confident you weren’t talking, or, god-forbid, moaning, in your sleep.

It had been an incredibly hard day. Not only was it freezing, but you had been outside and away from temperature controlled environments for far too long. Immediately once you got back to the Inn you were staying at, you asked Spencer if he’d mind you taking the shower first.

“I’m freezing my ass of right now. You don’t mind do you?”

“No, of course not. You know it’s kind of a superstition, but there’s some actual evidence that being cold can make you sick. I just read a study which showed 10% of people exposed to-“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Spence, I’d love to hear about all that, but please just wait till I’m out of the shower.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

You shook off his apology as it wasn’t needed. That was one thing you didn’t get about the rest of the team; you loved hearing all the little tid bits of information that Reid let out. Yeah, he was like a literal encyclopedia at times, but it was never annoying. If anything it made you like him more. You loved the way he lit up when he told you about something he’d just read about, or read about 15 years ago. It was cute.

Getting into the shower was like a blessing. The water rolled over your cold skin and helped to loosen the muscles you’d been stressing all day. If you were bolder, or clueless to Spencer’s aversion to touch, you’d ask him to give you a shoulder rub. Your mind wondered off to where else he might touch you, but that was just wishful thinking.

After spending a near gratuitous amount of time in the shower, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. Only once you’d started drying off did you realize in you haste to warm up you’d forgotten to bring your sleep clothes into the bathroom with you. Now, you had to walk out in a tiny, hotel towel right in front of Reid. Sure, it was the start of a few of your fantasies, but in real life the idea seemed mortifying.

As quietly as possible, to not draw attention to yourself, you opened the bathroom door. With one hand gripping the point where the towel connected with itself, you tried to tiptoe unnoticed to your suitcase.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see Spencer watching your frame like a hawk. As he took in your damp, barely covered figure, you wished to yourself that the lights in the room weren’t so fucking bright.

“I, uh, forgot to bring my clothes in,” and with that, you raced back into the bathroom to change.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you make your way out of the bathroom again. The room is, thankfully, much darker and you see Reid tucked into his side of the bed. You climb in next to him.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was weird. I, I won’t forget my clothes again.”

“It didn’t, Y/n, don’t worry.”

With that, you both tried your best to fall asleep and put the day behind you.

~

When you wake up, it’s decidedly not light out and you are decidedly not alone on your side of the bed. One of Spencer’s arms is over your waist, holding you against his body. Still, you don’t know why you’ve woken up.

You tend to be a pretty heavy sleeper, and you know that some light spooning wasn’t enough to wake you up. As you lay awake, trying to figure out why you are up and what to do next you feel Spencer move behind you.

Now, you definitely know what woke you. Spencer, who could barely look you in the eye after seeing you in a towel, was grinding into while you slept. Obviously, he was asleep too, but that didn’t stop the shock of it all from hitting you like a fucking bus. He was silent aside from the occasional whimper, which sent shockwaves straight to your core each time he let one slip.

Despite this, again, being the start to a few of your own wet dreams, you were pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. You felt like you’d be taking advantage of Reid if you didn’t wake him, but if you did you know he’d just about die from embarrassment. Or, worse, he’d think that you somehow executed all of this in a sick ploy. Not likely, but still a source of anxiety.

It took you a few minutes to get your head on straight, what with the burning feeling brewing in your abdomen, but eventually you realized that waking him up was pretty much the only thing you could do.

“Spence,” you said while gently shaking his shoulder.

“Spence, love, you gotta wake up.”

You were turned toward him now and saw his eyes open a crack, “Y/n? What’s wrong what’s goin-“

The realization of your situation also hit him like a truck, which was sort of comforting because at least you weren’t alone in the feeling.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I, I can’t- Fuck I’m so sorry.”

He went to spring out of bed, but your hand grabbed his arm before he could.

“Spence, it’s okay I promise. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

“No, no it’s not. You don’t even like me that way and I was all over you-“

You cut him off when you heard this, “Spence, what do you mean I don’t like you like that?”

“You heard me right? I said your name?”

The world stops spinning, “What?”

“Oh, oh no. Look, I’m so sorry. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars. Fuck, I’m so-”

“Spencer stop. Please stop apologizing.”

It’s like an old Western showdown for a moment, the two of you staring at each other without making a move.

“Were you dreaming about me?”

He nodded, about to speak and likely offer more apologies. But, before he gets the chance you push your lips to meet his.

The kiss is soft and gentle. At first, his lips don’t move against yours, and you start to pull back, worried you read the situation wrong. Fortunately, before your lips could even part from his, he’s pulled you back in. His hands find the side of your face and his lips pressed into yours with a bruising intensity. Slowly, his hands moved to your waist, holding you in place.

The feeling rushing through you was unlike any you’d ever experienced. His lips molded to yours so perfectly it was almost unbelievable. If you’re hands weren’t so preoccupied by his hair, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. With a move you didn’t think he’d possibly pull, Spencer bit into your lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to press further into the kiss, tracing your tongue with his.

Before you could fall completely into the kiss you pulled away to ask, “Spence, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since the day we met, Y/n.”

With that, he pulled you back in. His hands moved more surely on you, dipping below your shirt. The feeling of his skin on yours sent shockwaves through your body. You moved to take off his shirt in turn, desperate to feel even more of him. He was relentless, breaking free from your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and over your exposed collar bone.

You felt needier than ever, and evidently so did he. In another move you didn’t expect (maybe you should throw your expectations out the window at this point) he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. With you straddling him, he moved to take your shirt off. Insecurity grabbed hold of you before you could push it away.

You stilled his hands in yours, “I haven’t let anyone see me like this in a long time. Just, please don’t be disappointed by what you see.”

His face morphed into one so full of love that it made your teeth ache.

“You’re my dream, Y/n. You’ll never, ever disappoint me.”

You let go of his hands and they resumed their previous journey, pushing up your shirt and letting that part of you be bare to him. Admittedly, you had to fight the urge to cover yourself, but when you saw his face you knew it was pointless. He was ogling you, not offensively, but more like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him.

“You’re so, so beautiful.”

His words didn’t erase the thoughts you had, but they certainly made them easier to ignore. Moving up from your waist, he went to cup your breast, fingers playing with your nipple which made your back arch into him. He took the opportunity to flip you over so you were laying underneath him. The weight of his body over you was heavenly. You felt him press himself into your center through his sweatpants. There were just thin layers of clothes between you now.

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been dying to.”

You’re stunned from words but you manage to nod your head. As he moved down your body, he took your shorts and panties with you, leaving you completely exposed. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of the feeling or his reaction to you. With Spencer, you felt completely at home.

You felt him kiss down your things, teasing you in a way that made you feel completely crazy. His breath ghosted over your core, but he still hadn’t made contact with where you needed him most.

“Spencer, please.”

Hearing your voice must have broken his resolve. He dove in like a man starved. In the past, you hadn’t found yourself enjoying the presence on a man’s head between your legs. Not that you had much experience, but the men who had you in that way always seemed to treat it as a means to an end. One of the two boyfriends you’d had refused to go down on you at all, and the other wouldn’t unless you were completely shaved. Safe to say you didn’t feel like you were missing much.

Everything was different with Spencer. He licked into you there was no place he’d rather be. His tongue over traced over your cunt as he tried to find all the places that drove you wild, and god did he. The noises in the room were obscene, from the moans falling from your lips to the sound of his driving you to an orgasm.

You locked your hands in his hair, grinding into his face without even noticing that you were. You were so close, and you found the final push in his fingers. God, his beautiful fingers.

His mouth was on your clit as he pushed two digits into you, curling in before pulling out, over and over until your legs begin to shake. His unoccupied hand pressed on your lower stomach, building up the feeling until you burst.

You repeated a mantra of his name as you came harder than you can ever remember coming before. The sensation took you out for a minute, but when you came back down and looked down at Spencer, you saw him staring at you in awe and completely soaked.

“Fuck, Y/n. Have you, have you done that before? I think that was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen.”

You were confused for a moment, wondering why he’d think you hadn’t orgasmed before. That was before you felt the damp fabric of the bed beneath you.

“Oh! Oh god, uh, no I haven’t. I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Don’t apologize for that, Y/n. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life between your legs if it meant I could see that again.”

The constat praise falling from him had you noticeably riled up, and you pulled him up, back on top of you.

“Spencer, please. I want you. I want you inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/n.”

He made incredibly quick work of his own pants, freeing himself. Your mouth dropped open as you took him in. He was big, the biggest you’d been with, and he was pretty. You would have drooled if it wasn’t for his lips pressing into yours. He ran his middle finger through your folds before grasping himself. He followed his own path and ran his member through your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”

The pet name made you even more desperate, “Please, Spence. Fuck, please.”

He put you out of your misery, sinking into you in one motion. You had to adjust to his size, but the feeling of him inside you, as close to you as possible had you reeling. You bucked your hips up, urging him to move.

He gave you exactly what you wanted, pushing into you at a perfect pace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

You were overcome and all you could mutter was “thank you, thank you, thank you” in time with each of his thrusts. When he started to push into you harder, you couldn’t help but squeeze down on him.

His hips stalled, “You’re gonna make me come, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight”

You let your hands take down his back, “Please, Spence. Want you to, want to feel you come in me.”

His pace picked up, and you could feel how close he was. Still he wasn’t done. His fingers again found your clit and rubbed circles on it.

“Need to feel you come on me first baby. Need you to come.”

His words made your head spin. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming again, just as intense as the first time. You pulsed around him and it pushed him over the edge. You felt him come inside you, filling you completely.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, but you froze immediately after saying them, worried that you had ruined everything. But, just as he had done before, Spencer quelled your worries.

“I love you too. God, I love you.”

~

The next morning was bliss. You woke in Spencer’s arms, and let him into you again. The sex was slow and you each let the three words spill uninhibited.

When you went downstairs, ready to finish the case, you were met with the sheepish faces of your team.

Derek spoke first, “I’d say congratulations if you both weren’t so loud last night.”

While you were mortified, watching the rest of the team hold back their chuckles, you couldn’t help but agree that this was all a moment to celebrate.

End

let me know what you think!!

[wisteriagoesvroom]

For the trope mashup thing whatever: arranged marriage and neighbors 👀 - CX

again not one i would've picked but thank you for prompting it !! this also uh, got longer than i thought.

(from the prompts mash up - still taking submissions)

--------

“What do you mean your visa’s running out?” Lando asks.

“I’m Australian. Not a magician. Commonwealth only gets you so far.” 

“I thought you were here on a scholarship.”

“Well. Yeah. But scholarships stop. Once you graduate.” 

Lando toes the doorway rug. It feels weird to be talking about this in the middle of the hallway, though the only other person who would be listening might be Mrs. Kapoor, and half the time it’s only because she sticks her head out to ask if Lando or Oscar would take one of her mystery vegan curries. Lando is neither a huge fan of vegan food nor curry, and he trusts Oscar’s word for it that it’s good because they eat it while playing Gran Turismo at Lando’s place. But Lando always accepts the curries nonetheless, because his parents raised him to be polite, and he wasn’t raised in a barn. (Even if he technically grew up in converted farmhouse in the countryside, but that was besides the point.)  Either way, this is slipping away from him much quicker than he’d anticipated. Late night hangouts, dropping mail and post-it notes, text messages about the community garden. The most inane smalltalk about things big and small from the origins of moths to whether aliens were out there or just chose to ignore the +44 area code. Oscar always laughing in the right places when Lando regales him about tales of his terrible online dating stories, Oscar always picking the pickles out of the roast beef bagels before he passes one to Lando. The corner of Lando’s sofa that Lando has started to think of as Oscar’s because he’s there so often, reading one of his books or trying to speedread a JSTOR article about the lifecycle of urban pathogens while Lando worked on artwork for his upcoming store launch. 

Lando’s synapses are firing too fast. His brain did that most days, and that was what made him exceedingly good at his job, and today in particular - it doesn’t feel like there’s any logical way out. 

Lando remembers that movie they watched once though. As a joke. The one they both pretended not to enjoy, with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds in Alaska. The one they watched when Oscar sat next to Lando on the sofa, and they both pretended the entire night that their knees weren’t touching. 

His therapist said he had a tendency to get ahead of himself when under stress. But it’s a joke, it’s not serious, there’s no way—

“We could just like, get married.”

Lando shoves his hands in his pockets. That came out way more calm and cooler than he thought it actually would.  And to his credit, Oscar doesn’t drop his mug of tea. Lando knows that’s his favourite one, because Lando got it for him, and it says Science is my superpower. Oscar does, however, slightly shift his grip on the mug.

“I feel like it’d be complicated to explain to my mum why I randomly married my upstairs neighbour?” 

“But it’s not a no.”

Oscar tilts his head. There’s a glimmer of something focused, maybe even hungry in his eyes. Oscar gets like that when his mind turns, when he’s working on an especially difficult thesis, when the pieces are forming and he can lock into the crucial details.

Lando is a little alarmed at how much he already recognises it, and how much more often he’d like to draw that reaction out. 

“If the facts don’t fit the theory, then reexamine the facts. Right?” Oscar says.

And Lando is there, in the doorway. Conscious that Mrs Kapoor might’ve heard everything, but all the more conscious that there’s a hammering in his heart that he can’t tell is nervousness, or anticipation. 

What’s the stress limit for a joke you’re probably already pushing too far? Lando thinks.

He isn’t sure.

But maybe it’s a thesis worth testing out.  

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

(and ok maybe i cheated a little on arranged marriage but i think this is the closest i could get with the contemporary context. thank you @cx-boxbox for the prompt <3)

[filmnoirsbian]

Hello! My brother in law has set up a gofundme to get a mobility van for my niece. You can donate here.

Copy and pasted from the page:

Hello, my name is Andrew and we are looking to fund a Mobility Van for our sweet daughter Evelyn. She was born in Japan with a rare pathogenic mutation of the ASXL1 gene named Bohring-Opitz Syndrome. We almost lost her at birth and on the medical evacuation to Rady Children's Hospital, San Diego 48 hours later. Due to BOS, she has a myriad of symptoms but the ones that drive the need for a mobility van are low muscle tone and abnormal corpus callosum development in her brain. This causes cognitive and motor functional development to be slowed greatly. She is not mobile, has no head control and is ventilator, oxygen and feeding tube dependant. While she can still fit in her car seat she will outgrow the rear-facing seat by next year and will require head support for forward facing. Currently, her wheelchair capable of head control and is an approved mobility device to be used in an accessible van but insurance will not cover the cost. While some potential grants and charities can help, there will still be a heavy out-of-pocket expense. The price ranges from modifying our current van at >$21000 to buying a new van at >$60000. I have set the goal of this fundraiser to $60k for a new van with a fallback plan of purchasing a used one or having our current van modified, which has a 4-month turnaround. If we chose to have the current van modified, we will need another van in the interim to meet her appointments.

Head control aside, with a mobility van, we would be able to easily wheel her and her equipment straight into the van to make it much easier to get her out and about. Her Wonderfold Wagon we use to haul her in a special chair and her gear to and from the van. While it is just fantastic, she is quickly outgrowing that as well and soon will not fit in it. This is another reason for us seeking funding for a mobility van.

We humbly ask your assistance in purchasing a mobility fan for our sweet Evelyn.

Thanks for donating and/or sharing! 💝

[sunshine-theseus]

Photo Roulette | Chloe Kelly x Reader

Words: 1.6k Summary: Media day has Chloe finally revealing her relationship. Warnings: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes (I know degrees like PhDs take super long but for the sake of this story please either pretend they don’t, or that she is super smart and managed to cut the time in like half.) Requested by - @charligrantismygirlfriend

After graduating from Oxford with a bachelor’s degree and PhD in Cellular and Molecular Biochemistry, I made the move to Manchester as a clinical biochemist. Falling in love with a professional footballer was not on my list of things to do when I moved, but when a new work colleague insisted I take their extra ticket to a “derby match” as they called it, I took the chance to broaden my non-existent Manchester social circle.

And somehow, I caught the eye of the blonde forward. The number 9 jersey found it’s way into my hand with a signature and phone number and by 7pm that night, I had a date set up.

We went on a few before Chloe and I made anything official. And with making it official, came a set list of rules regarding our relationship and her work, number one was that it didn’t exist to fans. Well, it did, but no one would know who the mystery girl was. It was a tough rule to follow, it meant whenever we hung out, we had to be hyperaware of our levels of affection and what we discussed. Dates had to be at home or in a very secluded corner of a high-end restaurant with a name no one knows how to pronounce, because that means no one there would care who we are.

I was, and forever will be grateful that those places weren’t an issue for us. Both with rather lucrative professions, my starting salary slowly increasing the longer I stay, and her’s naturally growing with the popularity of the game. It also meant it was easier for us to find a more private area to buy a house, 1 ½ years without a single issue of fans knocking on the door or press waiting for some big news story to break. The perfect paradise.

No one knew who the famous Chloe Kelly is dating and had no way of finding out. Until media day.

-

“Have fun! I won’t be finished at the lab until late, so maybe we’ll get takeaway for dinner?” I kiss Chloe goodbye as I pick up my keys and bag from beside the door.

“For sure! Have a good day staring at cells. At least it’s not jail cells.” I chuckle and make my way out.

My day is in fact consumed with studying pathogens within blood and other bodily fluid. It’s nearly 6pm when Filipa taps me on the shoulder, breaking my concentration and reintroducing me to my surroundings. She helps me pack everything away, we say our farewells and I head home, picking up a vegetarian pizza on the way.

“How was media day?” I ask, plopping down on the couch next to Chloe, who rests her arm around my shoulders.

“Bloody weird as usual. I did this “go through your phone” thing, but it was all good fun. I did some mini games with Yui as well. She wants us to come over for dinner again sometime.”

“Absolutely. I miss her oh my god.” I take a bite of the pizza and rest my head on her shoulder, images on the telly flashing in front of us, neither one paying attention.

“How was your day at the lab Dr Spencer Reid?”

“You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again?”

“Mhm.”

“Spencer and I are two different types of doctors.”

“Mmhm.”

“I mean we both have the honorifics but his is like, not the same. Well it is but… never mind.” I can see Chloe’s lip twitch upward as I try to explain and lightly nudge her.

“I love listening to you get defensive about your title. You deserve it more than anyone in the world.” Her lips press gently to my hairline, then to my cheek, and finally land on my own lips.

“Plus, I love calling you doctor, it’s kind of hot.” My face flushes and I smack her arm.

“Behave!”

“Sorry… doctor.” To make it brief, the night didn’t end there. It ended much, much later, with both of us panting, the cotton sheets covering her soft skin while I splash my face with water in the ensuite.

~~~~~

I don’t give the results of Chloe’s media day another thought for a very long time. Until a month later when Fillipa, in similar fashion to the day of filming said content, breaks me from my work and places her phone on the desk in front of me.

I give her a rather confused look, but she just points to the screen and presses play.

“Well, the next part of Unlocked is one of my favourite bits; Photo Roulette.” The guy who sits next to Chloe explains the rules.

“Fillipa what is this?”

“Just keep watching.” I watch as Chloe scrolls through the thousands of photos stored on her phone, until he tells her to stop.

Her finger lands on a photo, one that no one can see yet, and she lets out a hearty laugh.

“’S it a good one?” he claps his hands together and waits to see the results. There are a few moments of silence before Chloe explains the picture, showing it to the host.

“It’s a picture of my girlfriend, Y/n. I was trying to teach her football and she comes out in this goofy old kit of mine that’s like 4 sizes too big for either of us, socks rolled all the way up with a huge grin on her face.” The smile that shines on Chloe’s face as she recounts that day makes it hard for me to feel the anger boiling in the pit of my stomach. The picture shows up on screen, taking up the whole space, and now the secret is revealed to everyone who we worked so hard to hide it from.

“Is this the secret girlfriend you’ve been hiding the identity of for over 2 years? You finally decided it’s time.” He lets out a laugh after the comment, but I can see the recognition in her eyes and the smile fades from her face. She doesn’t say anything.

It takes me 32 minutes on average, to drive home. On any other day. But when I get into the car, I have to decide whether I should take significantly longer, or cut the time in half, to confront my girlfriend with my findings.

I arrive home at 5:21. With the combination of leaving work a few minutes early, and the somehow blessed lack of traffic, it’s nearly 15 minutes earlier than usual.

“You’re home early!” a cheerful shout echoes down the hall, blissfully unaware of the rage bubbling beneath my skin.

“Just thought I’d get home before the fans tracked me down and swarmed me.” I seethe through my teeth as I kick off my shoes and make my way toward our bedroom.

“What d’you mean?” it’s almost precious, the confused look and the head tilt that greets me.

“Well now that everyone knows who I am, I didn’t want to risk being seen.” I see the moment of realisation.

“Oh fuck I completely forgot! I didn’t mean to I swear. I’m so sorry it just slipped out.”

“How do you slip up like that Chlo? That was our one agreement, our one rule. Fans would not know. God I’ve seen how cruel people are to player’s partners, I’ve seen couples break up because of fans. Chloe what the fuck!” I fall forward onto the bed and scream into the pillows.

“Well you never asked how I feel about having to hide my girlfriend from everyone! I get you want privacy and security of fans not knowing but I want to be able to celebrate with you after wins, or just rest in your arms after a loss, without worrying if someone will see. I want to be able to take you to big games and pull you onto the pitch and kiss you in front of everyone and show them how much I love you. It’s not fair that I have to pretend you mean nothing!” A tear leaks from my eye, and I soon start to sob. My shoulders shake and I can feel the puddle of tears get soaked up by the pillow.

I feel the dip of the bed beside me and Chloe’s arm wraps around me while her lips press light kisses against my back.

“I’m sorry. I want to be there for you too. Show the world I love you. I’m just scared. I’ve never really been seen by people outside of academics. I’m scared to just… be seen.” I roll over and pull Chloe down to rest her head against my chest, running my hands through her hair, untangling the small knots.

“I will love you no matter what. If you decide to continue keeping it private or if you, break up with me.”

“Chloe I will not fucking break up with you. I think- I think I want people to know. I want to love you properly.” Her head tilts up and I lean down, pressing a kiss to her lips.

~~~~~

“Chloe Kelly takes a shot… AND IT GOES IN. SHE SCORES THE WINNER IN THE 92ND MINUTE!!” I yell from the friends and family section as Chloe practices shots in front of me.

She turns dramatically toward me with a glare on her face, but I poke out my tongue and she breaks out into a smile. She makes the short jog over to me and pulls me into a kiss. A rather passionate one if you want to be specific. I grab her by the shirt and pull her close, kissing her harder as people around us jokingly cheer.

“See you after the game baby.” she pecks my lips once more before running back to her teammates who clap her on the back and tease her.

“That’s my girlfriend!” I scream and point, and the same people laugh along with me.

Thank god for media day.

[kairismess]

⤹˚˖♬୭ karaoke night.

🍰 genre: fluff ~ ! ✒️ word count: 969 💭 summary: sakusa has a hidden talent, which he's only willing to show off while the other three are drunk, and you're here to listen. 🍥 author's note: if y'all get my reference as to which idol that is, i will love you forever frfr

sakusa has always avoided group gatherings as much as he could, there was simply nothing enjoyable about being clumped together with a group of people he hardly called friends–associates were the correct term–and sharing the same space with then when they could potentially carry life-threatening pathogens, with or without them knowing.

what a cruel reality it was for him that only he seemed to care about proper sanitation and hygiene, seeing as how bokuto, atsumu, and hinata all just shared the same sake bottle over a round of drinking in this disgustingly compact karaoke room that had zero ventilation whatsoever.

his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes set in a permanent glare, wherever he gazed, he always had something to criticize about its cleanliness, of course, he wouldn't even comment on the sticky table between the four of them.

unbelievable, sakusa thought to himself, as atsumu–in his slurred, drunken stupor–clutched the microphone as he chuckled, with hinata and bokuto cheering him on like his number one fans. the opening beat to the song 'baby' by justin bieber blared through the loudspeakers, and sakusa felt like he could pass away right here, right now to end the suffering; but that would be awful, because then he'd decompose with their clutter around him.

sakusa was curled up into a ball, waiting for you to come back from getting some water for the two of you (he didn't trust the water from the bar), but while you were gone, the rest of the msby jackals were just howling out the lyrics of some ear-piercing song that sakusa didn't even want to hear the end of.

when you got back, sakusa had never been more relieved in his life. he thanked you for the water and, after inspecting its contents and its container, he drank from it. you sat down next to sakusa, making the rest of the team that was terribly drunk tease you two through that dreaded microphone.

"omiomi and manager, sitting in a tree..." "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

bokuto just spoke gibberish for the latter part of that, because he felt like vomiting due to all that alcohol. "...can we please leave?" sakusa asks you in a low voice, leaning in close to your ear. you shiver a little and turn to look at him, your nose touching his that was covered by a mask. he moved away immediately, watching as your eyes widened and your face got a little flustered. "well... we can't just leave them here, i-i mean, look at them, omi..."

sakusa took one look at this sorry bunch that was spurring up all kinds of chaos, he was honestly surprised that they hadn't started a fire yet. turning back to you with a deadpanned look, sakusa spoke in a levelled tone. "they look like shit," "see, omi? so we can't–" "all the more reason why we should leave," sakusa insisted.

"aww, c'mon, omiomi! y'fuckin' killjoy..." atsumu muttered under his breath, taking another swig from the sake bottle. "y-yeah! you haven't... sung a single song... since we got here ya... ya..." bokuto couldn't even finish his sentence, he vomited in the corner, with hinata patting his back, hiccuping, as he tried to help him through it.

"okay, i think—hic!—w-we might—hic!—need to... go home—hic!—soon..." hinata mused, which atsumu and bokuto couldn't even protest against, they were going to be so badly hungover the next morning that they'd forget their names.

"h-hey, omiomi... we'll go home..." atsumu mumbled, handing him the microphone. "...if ya sing a tune," the blonde uttered slyly. sakusa furrowed his eyebrows in disdain at his ultimatum, but he knew that this would be the most peaceful way to resolve things; he couldn't walk out that filthy door without you, you were the only one keeping him sane and put together at this point.

sakusa sighed and with a tissue paper, scrolled through the song list until he found one by an idol his cousin komori introduced him to when they were younger. it had an oddly jolly vibe to it, one you wouldn't expect sakusa to enjoy or even be familiar with in the first place.

atsumu groaned, but you and hinata were getting into the song. for the first time that evening, sakusa took off his mask to sing clearer; you had never seen sakusa that serious about something that would force him to take his mask off that wasn't volleyball.

the way sakusa sang, it was so... alluring. it was like everyone, regardless if they enjoyed the song or even knew it, would be inclined to listen to him sing. nearly everyone in the room shut their mouths and held their breaths as they listened to him sing; a siren, that's what you likened sakusa to. his voice was so captivating, he didn't sound professional, he didn't sound fake nor seasoned in terms of singing, he sounded very graceful, very emotional, in a way, when he sung.

it was just right, every note was hit perfectly with the right amount of emotion, and it felt like every word he sung, he meant it; as if those were the words that came from his own heart and out through his melodic voice.

afterwards, sakusa sighed, put on his mask, and handed the microphone back to atsumu, while you, hinata, and bokuto clapped for him. "can we please leave now?" the dark haired boy asked, turning to you. you blinked a little and stammered out a response, not realizing he was asking you. "a-ah, right, i'll start the car," you said with a slight smile, still gushing internally at how amazing sakusa's singing voice was.

you just hoped the drunken trio wouldn't harass sakusa over it, they'd be here all night now after learning their dear omiomi has a lovely singing voice.

[honkifurhoary]

Emmanuel the Emu: A Story of HPAI Mismanagement

Emmanuel, the TikTok-famous emu owned by Taylor Blake of Knuckle Bump Farms, made national news last month when Highly Pathogenic Avian Influenza (HPAI) hit the farm. According to Blake’s initial Twitter thread, Knuckle Bump Farms lost 99% of their avian flock- over 50 individuals- in only three days. These deaths were attributed both to the disease itself and to a cull carried out by the Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services, who did so with Blake’s permission. Emmanuel and a black swan named Rico were the only two survivors, with Emmanuel left unable to stand, unwilling to eat or drink, and quickly fading. Hundreds of thousands rallied behind Emmanuel on social media as Blake documented Emmanuel’s progress, reaching out to public figures like Dr. Pol of The Incredible Dr. Pol and Bindi Erwin of Crikey! It’s the Irwins for help when she failed to find any other sources for emu rehabilitation. But soon, controversy emerged.

Early on, avian influenza experts expressed concern that Blake was not wearing any PPE when interacting with a presumably HPAI-positive bird. Avian influenza is transmissible from bird to human which, combined with the virus’ ability to mix genes and rapidly change, means that PPE is universally recommended when dealing with a suspected or confirmed HPAI outbreak.

In response to concerns, Blake explained that “Emmanuel freaks out whenever we approach him wearing a mask” and that the farm is on a state-mandated quarantine for 150 days, which is the amount of time HPAI is estimated to survive in the environment under ideal conditions. This quarantine reportedly only allowed Blake, Blake’s girlfriend Kristian Haggerty, Blake’s family, and veterinary professionals to enter the property. “I have taken every precaution recommended by the FDA” Blake stated, referencing the Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services (FDACS) rather than the Food and Drug Administration (FDA).

Many people, including HPAI experts, found this explanation unsatisfactory and instead decided to contact the FDACS and USDA directly. Both the FDACS and USDA work collaboratively to manage avian influenza outbreaks in Florida. Dr. Danielle Stanek of the Florida Department of Health clarified that the DOH can recommend that private individuals comply with CDC guidelines, which includes wearing full PPE when interacting with HPAI-infected birds, but they cannot mandate that they do so. Therefore, Blake’s decision to forgo PPE was hers to make, even if it wasn’t in accordance with the recommendations of the FDACS, CDC, USDA, and Florida DOH.

Just as discourse between experts and Emmanuel fans reached its peak, Blake announced that Emmanuel tested negative for HPAI. Instead, Emmanuel’s sudden decline was attributed to stress. “Emus are incredibly susceptible to stress. He was incredibly overwhelmed by the state coming in and euthanizing our flock . . . He stopped eating the day they depopulated.” His lingering issues- the inability to stand or walk independently, twisted neck (torticollis), continued inappetence and dehydration, and lethargy- were caused by a nighttime collapse that left Emmanuel “thrashing on the ground for hours, trying to get himself up”. “He never once had a single symptom of AI, other than not eating”, Blake stated.

HPAI symptoms in birds varies depending on the species and the individual. In chickens, HPAI often presents as respiratory and digestive distress, followed quickly by death. In other poultry species, symptoms may also include the nervous system, causing “tremors, twisted necks, paralyzed wings, laying down and pedaling”. Ratites- referring to the diverse group of keel-less birds that include emus, ostriches, rheas, kiwis, and cassowaries- also tend to develop neurological symptoms. Notably, emus can present with twisted necks (torticollis), ataxia (discoordination), leg and wing paralysis, inability to stand, decreased food and water consumption, purple discoloration or swelling of the legs and head, and lethargy. This corresponds with many of the symptoms Blake has documented in Emmanuel. And it should, considering that Emmanuel did test positive for HPAI.

Test results completed on October 27th, 2022 at the USDA’s National Veterinary Services Laboratories showed that Emmanuel’s serum sample, collected six days after the start of the outbreak, contained antibody levels that were consistent with recent infection.

When Blake announced Emmanuel’s stress diagnosis, she was likely relying on information provided by a rapid test, which can provide results within 48 hours. These tests detect viral proteins that indicate active infection and virus shedding. Serology tests, on the other hand, look for the presence of antibodies produced in response to infection, not necessarily active infection. For an indeterminate number of days prior to the sample collection (October 17, 2022) Emmanuel had an active HPAI infection that, rather than stress, likely led to his rapid decline.

Why, then, was Emmanuel not included in the state’s cull on Knuckle Bump Farms? An email between Dr. Michael Short, the FDACS’ Animal Industry Director, and Kassandra Curiel of the FDACS’ Office of the Commissioner, answers this question. Dr. Short states that “USDA guidance is that ratites (emus and ostriches), black swans and exotic pet birds do not have to be euthanized due to lower risk”. Blake echoes this on her Twitter, when she says that “the state only focused on the “super spreaders” which are poultry species and ducks. Ratites aren’t included because they typically aren’t as susceptible.”.

This allowed Knuckle Bump Farms’ four emus (Emily, Eliza, Elliot, and Emmanuel) and three black swans (two unnamed females and Rico), to be exempted from the cull. I cannot find any reference, either in USDA literature or anywhere else, that supports Dr. Short’s statement. In fact, all the literature that I reviewed and all the experts I talked to during my research only confirmed the devastating effects that HPAI can have on both ratites and black swans. This, coupled with the fact that three of Knuckle Bump Farms’ four emus and two of their three black swans died when “the virus hit them extremely hard and very quickly”, calls Dr. Short’s statement into question.

The USDA was also unable to substantiate Dr. Short’s statement. When asked how exemptions to culls were determined they explained that, rather than look at individual species, the USDA classifies HPAI-infected domestic birds as either commercial, backyard poultry, or backyard non-poultry. These definitions ascribe risk of potential HPAI spread by determining the level of contact a poultry premise has with other poultry premises. If a private farm or private household, where the poultry does not have any contact with poultry beyond the property, has an outbreak then they are classified as a non-poultry premises, even if they have chickens, turkeys, or other poultry birds. These non-poultry premises can thus be exempted from culling all their birds by being placed on quarantines by state officials, provided that they adhere to the quarantine and continue to not have contact with any poultry facilities. Knuckle Bump Farms does not sell poultry products; therefore, they were classified as backyard non-poultry and eligible for quarantine. The FDACS seems to have added their own interpretation onto this guidance when they specify ratites, black swans, and exotic pet birds as “lower risk”. I reached out to Dr. Short for comment but received no response.

This isn’t the only time Dr. Short and, by extension, the FDACS demonstrated faulty logic. In that same email between him and Curiel, Dr. Short used this comparison to explain why a citizen’s concern about Emmanuel’s exemption from the cull was unfounded.

“I have heard of only one report of a clinically ill human, over the past 1.5 years of a national response to the current avian flu outbreak. The risk of HPAI to the owner is much less than occurred with household pets that tested positive for SARS-CoV-2 (Covid).  I am assuming no one would advocate to euthanize all pets testing positive for Covid (At least I have not heard of anyone asking us to euthanize pets).

The risk of avian influenza is constantly occurring with all the wild birds in South Florida.  My understanding (not being a human health expert) is the risk to people, especially children and those immuno-compromised at public or private lakes, ponds and waterways from the AI being shed by water fowl is much greater than the sick emu at knuckle bump farm.”

Dr. Ben Golas, a VMD and postdoc with the USGS who is currently working on avian influenza research, weighed in. “It’s a bit like comparing apples and oranges to talk about risk of transmission of COVID vs. HPAI. With COVID, our primary concern is human-to-human contact. [. . .] With HPAI, farm animals are euthanized not only because the disease spreads within the farm flock like wildfire, but also to prevent spreading infection locally to other farms, because HPAI virus can be stable in the environment.”

The CDC agrees. “There is no evidence that animals play a significant role in spreading SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, to people. […] It’s important to remember that people are much more likely to get COVID-19 from other people than from animals. There is no need to euthanize or otherwise harm animals infected with SARS-CoV-2.” When it comes to HPAI, however, they emphasize that human-to-human spread is rare and often limited to only a few individuals. Bird-to-human transmission is the primary method of human infection, with each new infection increasing the risk that a new, more virulent strain will emerge. This, along with the potential for massive bird-to-bird outbreaks that could devastate both wildlife and industry, is why complete depopulation (euthanasia) is standard for HPAI and not COVID-19.

The FDACS seems to be operating on contradicting and unsubstantiated information when it comes to managing HPAI outbreaks. Unsurprisingly, the employees seem equally conflicted in their internal emails regarding Knuckle Bump Farms. One Florida USDA representative noted, while forwarding a citizen concern about Blake’s lack of PPE, that “her face is real close to a bird that has HPAI”. Another USDA employee responded “actually, in one of the pictures she appears to be kissing it on the head.”. Dr. Kendra Stauffer of the USDA wrote, “. . . part of the allowing the pet bird to live was that there were rules the owner was to follow from DOH, which clearly she is not”.

Other employees, however, were eager to show their support. Commissioner Nikki Fried of the FDACS posted a photo of her, Blake, and Haggerty, and later posted a photo of herself drinking Knuckle Bump Farms’ branded beer while wearing an Emmanuel t-shirt.

Fried’s support generated a lot of concern, particularly amongst local farmers. One Florida emu farmer stated, “my disappointment and concern is 100% with the actions of Nikki Fried as Agricultural Commissioner to allow some birds to be exempt from depopulation, including emus, for no quantifiable reason. Emus are susceptible to HPAI. Emus in other states have contracted HPAI in this current outbreak and they either died on their own or were put down. Research shows they are susceptible to HPAI, and can spread it to other birds and humans. The decision by Fried and FDACS makes no sense and it sets a dangerous precedent.”

Considering that Blake has over 847.4K followers on Twitter, 938K on Instagram, and 2.4 million on TikTok, the precedent the FDACS and USDA have set here is, indeed, dangerous. Many of Blake’s followers learned about avian influenza for the first time through her documentation of Emmanuel’s illness and the state’s response to the outbreak. “I watch for Emmanuel updates every day! This has also been a great lesson for many people in farming education.”, one follower said. Another echoed this sentiment, saying “Thank you for taking the time to let us know what’s going on, and answering questions. You truly are an educator”.

Herein lies the problem. Knuckle Bump Farms is a small, backyard operation. Through social media, however, they reach millions. This specific outbreak of HPAI and its subsequent (mis-)management by the FDACS and USDA has now set the standard for many, rather than the exception. Blake’s public failure to comply with PPE recommendations, the lack of transparency regarding Emmanuel’s true diagnosis, a similar lack of transparency within the FDACS and USDA regarding this outbreak, exemptions to cull protocols made with seemingly no supporting data, and a publicly-elected official openly (and financially) supporting Blake through this process, all pose a serious threat to public confidence in HPAI management and future public health. The concerns of farmers, virologists, public health workers and organizations, wildlife rehabilitators, and animal sanctuaries have been ignored, particularly when they asked whether Emmanuel’s fame and the risk of public backlash led to the FDACS’ decision to leave him and several other symptomatic birds alive. It seems, through this research, that there is more support for this theory than the narrative we’ve been provided until now. It is my hope that, with the publishing of this information, the very real concerns raised by people directly effected by HPAI will be given the weight they deserve.

Please take this opportunity to learn about avian influenza from reputable sources:

Protecting Birds from Avian Influenza

Avian influenza and PPE

CDC Avian Influenza

USDA HPAI Response Plan

Florida Avian Influenza Update (Oct 2022)

A huge thank you to the following experts who generously answered my questions: Dr. Ben Golas, Dr. Jim Wellehan, and Dr. Jennifer Riley.

[chestcongestion]

Can you do some V ox sneeze headcanons if you please?

O o ooo, okay! TV man time!

Whenever he sneezes, his exhaust fans shoot out coolant or dust from his circulation fans in a big cloud

Snough sufferer (T_T), all of his sneezes are very short with very little in the way of vocalization.

Lots of "HhN'Kk! Hh'tchh! Kxxhht!" with pops of fizzing and static.

Doesn't have a sinus cavity, so he can't actually sniffle, but whenever his circulation fans stop and restart, they make a deep hissing sound that sounds like sniffling.

Instead of rubbing his nose, he spam-taps the center of his screen to try and get himself to sneeze, or to relieve the irritation during a fit.

Has an admin-accessible menu to look "inside of him" to see what's irritating his system or clogging his fans, where to dislodge the irritant, the technician working on him (or his assistant) has to play a matching game to make him sneeze.

Gets malware and viruses a lot because he's a gullible moron who still has 50s brainrot and falls for phishing scams CONSTANTLY. If Al/ast/or knew how to use a computer he'd be COOKED, getting sent malicious emails and spam links on the DAILY.

Can only contract "organic" ailments if someone gets the pathogens directly on his sensitive internal structures, he has caught many a cold by his personal technician- who doesn't have many sick days- sneezing onto his wires while his back panel was open.

Is prone to his coolant piping system leaking and getting blockages, especially if he's sick with a virus, and the rattling and flushing of those pipes sounds like an awful wet cough, forcing him to slam on his chest with a fist or a splayed hand to get everything back in working order.

If you press two buttons on his lower back at the same time, he sneezes, because they function as an auto-clean for his filtration system. His assistant regularly uses it to get back at him for being rude or cruel, sometimes he tapes the buttons down to get V/ox stuck in a loop.

[purkinje-effect]

"They only teach you so much in class. Out here, though, you learn to be a little bit of a Cutthroat." -- Pat I. Ward, a.k.a. Pathogen

[the12thnightproject]

A Holiday Video for you...

(volume up)

Text of message (in case it goes by too fast) below the cut.

Dear Tumblr-verse,

Happy Holidays to the tumblr community. When I stumbled onto here a few years ago, looking for a place to talk about fanfic and fan spaces, I never expected to find such a lovely group of people. I look forward to interacting with you all every day, whether you only appear once in a while as a short comment in my feed, whether I anxiously await your next art post or fanfic, or whether you drown my feed in your latest fandom enthusiasm. I am happy to call you my friends.

You all are the best, and no matter what holiday you celebrate, I hope it is full of joy and peace.  And… also… if you wish… these crazies… (all cgs are from Cybird Ikemen sengoku).

in no particular order...

@msviolacea @workbyrui @ashavazesa @spoopy-fish-writes @lazyscience @mllorei @cottonfluffballofdoom @the-cowardly-cheese @tsubaki3192 @iphigeniainaulis @cheese-ception @nuttytani @daegupaksu @evil-quartett @kippin-art @venulus @bestbryn @akitsuneswife @darkscarletroses @arrthurpendragon @annebrontesrequiem @katriniac @lyds323 @fighting-and-drawing @aquagirl1978 @writingwhimsey @violettduchess @honeyandbiscuitandtea-cafe @pathogenic @scorchieart @drewadoodle-dandy @fragile-sandwich @ikemen-writer @selenacosmic @queengiuliettafirstlady @dolcezzzza @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @skiagrafia @randonauticrap @scummy-writes @lyrical-cynical @tele86 @ikeromantic @leonscape @judejazza @yarnnerdally @candied-boys @wordycheesecake @olivermorningstar @itsmyara

And if I missed tagging you, a thousand apologies, but tumblr apparently has a person limit on these and would not allow me to tag my entire mutuals list.

[doomer-diva]

1998 Yahoo! Internet Lift July X-Files Gillian Anderson Interview

X-LIFE: Scully seems to be in tune with her computer, e-mail, and the Net.  But you've admitted that's the show, not real life.  Has the role nudge you into exploring cyberspace a bit more?

GILLIAN: Well, I do own a laptop, but part of me is a little afraid I would shirk my real-life responsibilities if I actually went online a lot.

X-LIFE: So how do you look so convincing when you're using computers on the show?

GILLIAN: It's called acting.  I have a general idea of what's on the Net.  I don't have a deep understanding of all those chat rooms, or have down all of the terminology.  But I can definitely pretend like I do.

X-LIFE: No one has a deep understanding of those chat rooms.  How do you feel about online adulation?  Last we searched, there were 24,000 Web links listed in AltaVista such sites as the Gillian Anderson Estrogen Brigade (www.teatime.com/gaeb), the Gillian Anderson House of Worship (crunchie.simplenet.com/gahow.html), and the Gillian Anderson Picture Vault (www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Theatre/2527).  Do you sometimes stop and think, "Who are all these people?"

GILLIAN: Honestly, if it makes people happy I don't care what they do with their free time, with their lives.  If that's the way they want to spend it, then it's their choice.  I don't consider them losers in any way.   Hey, they're doing that instead of hitting the bars, and that's fine by me.

X-LIFE: Yet the minute there's talk or even rumors about you in the press, it's on the Net in a matter of seconds.  Does that make you a little paranoid?

GILLIAN: Hmmm ... I hadn't really thought about it in terms of paranoia.

X-LIFE: All that "truth" showing up out there?

GILLIAN: Come to think of it, now you're making me paranoid.  [Laughs]  People make up stuff.  That's what the whole tabloid press is about.  But all that matters is the truth, and we know what the truth is.   Everything else is superfluous.

X-LIFE: So when you do log on, what do you log on for?

GILLIAN: It's mostly when I do some work with my local radio station.  Sometimes, after a radio session, I'll log on.  But most of the time we have to abort the process because so many people start coming on to ask questions that the entire system shuts down.

X-LIFE: When Scully goes home at night and logs on, where does she go?

GILLIAN: Most of the time she's looking for research, or trying to find information about people she's investigating.  Pathogens, diseases, and stuff like that.

X-LIFE: Would she ever consider going into a chat room with a nice, single pathologist?

GILLIAN: A nice, single pathologist?  [Laughs]   She might.  That's kind of interesting.  She might.

X-LIFE: I ask because online, one of the most debated X-Files questions is, "Who should Scully become romantically involved with?  The list runs the gamut from Mulder to Krycek to Skinner.  For the record, what kind of man is Scully attracted to?

GILLIAN: Well, hey, that's not a very big pool you've got there.

X-LIFE: Fans will throw any character into the scenario.  Shoot, even Flukeman.

GILLIAN: What about, oh, what was his name?   Kresge.  I thought there might be some possibility there for Scully.   That was the one person I can see her being interested in.  The only valid prospect in the last couple of years.

X-LIFE: That's kind of depressing.

GILLIAN: Well, she doesn't have a lot of time for anything else.

X-LIFE: There's also some rough stuff out there on the Net.  As a mother, what are your impressions of the Net?

GILLIAN: I think that's it's valid to put some kind of block on some of the information that's out there, but otherwise, I think the way to deal with it is in education, and working with kids early on in their lives so they don't feel the need to have that kind of outlet.  If they're predisposed to finding that [pornographic] kind of information, there's something lacking in their lives.  It's not about getting the information, because they can get it anywhere they want.

X-LIFE: Well, what do you think about all of the manipulated photos of you that are on the net from facial distortions to superimposed nude bodies?   You and Alicia Silverstone are perhaps the favorite subjects of these enthusiasts.  Does this bother you at all?

GILLIAN: No.  It would bother me more if I thought they were real photos of me nude.  Knowing that they're not, it doesn't really bother me at all.

X-LIFE: Then you take a live-and-let live approach?

GILLIAN: Why should I be bothered?  As far as David [Duchovny, her costar] and I are concerned, our images are exploited left and right, and we have no control over it.  So it's just another aspect of that.

X-LIFE: Speaking of exploitation, there's been a lot of tension between Twentieth Century Fox and online fans over some X-Files fan sites and the posting of copyrighted materials.  At first, this was largely tolerated; now, Fox is going after them, and many fans feel it will backfire.  How do you feel?

GILLIAN: I'm not actually aware of that struggle.   Tell me more about it.

X-LIFE: Well, there are a lot of sites out there devoted to you and David.  Most are not posted for profit, although some fans do post copyrighted stills of the show.  So Fox lawyers have sent out cease-and-desist letters to some of the sites.  The online community gets unhappy when this happens, but Fox has a point as well.

GILLIAN: I'm not versed enough about the Internet to know what's being exploited and what's not.  But I believe in freedom of speech, and to a certain degree, freedom of the press.  My opinion right off the bat is that it's just people online having a good time.  As long as it's not for profit, Fox is making a tremendous profit on everything.  I don't think it would diminish the profit that they're making.  If it's not for profit, and it's just for fun, hey, it's par for the course.

X-LIFE: There's a lot of speculation on the Internet about the success of your upcoming movie. Entertainment Weekly rated the film one of the riskiest releases of the coming season.  Is that a concern of yours?

GILLIAN: No, it's not a concern at all.  I don't know why they would have rated it risky.  With all of the die-hard fans alone, the movie would end up being  a success, and that's not even taking into consideration new viewers or people who have never seen the show before.

X-LIFE: What does the success of the film mean for you?

GILLIAN: It would mean that in the future, we would revisit this situation every few years and do more features, which for me is an exciting prospect.

X-LIFE: Are you getting tired of the television series?

GILLIAN: It's not that I'm getting tired of it, it's just that it's incredibly grueling.  And if we're going to be doing features every few years, ya know, it seems that the more productive scenario to keep us alive and interested in doing the work would be to have the show flip over to features, and gradually let go of he TV series within the next one or two years.

X-LIFE: On the Net, fans rate Jose Chung's "From Outer Space" and Clyde Bruckman's "Final Repose" as the best episodes.   Which do you like most?

GILLIAN: I think that one of the more recent ones the vampire one, called "Bad Blood," is one of my favorites of all time now.

X-LIFE: Do you feel any of the episodes have gone too far?

GILLIAN: There are some I'm not too crazy about, but not because they went too far.  I wasn't that crazy in the end about the two-parter involving my daughter.  I liked aspects of them, but as a whole, they didn't turn out as well as I wanted them to.

X-LIFE: Does [X-Files creator] Chris Carter ever come on the set to show you things he find online, like what Net fans think about your performances?

GILLIAN: Chris will sometimes bring up things that perked his interest online.  But we don't actually see him that often.

X-LIFE: Final question: When it comes to believing in extraterrestrial life, are you more like Scully or Mulder?

GILLIAN: My take is that the universe is vast beyond our wildest dreams, that it's more likely than not that there is life out there.  In that respect, I'd have to say I'm more Mulder-oriented.

End interview