#feel free to disagree. just remember that i am small

[not-that-syndrigast]

Is the grid a friend group?

Short answer; no. But we are here to analyze and discuss, so let's figure out why not and what else the grid can be described as.

In a friend group, you pretty much choose who's a part and who isn't, something that's not possible in F1 where team principals and other higher ups decide who is in the group and who is not. It's also too big to be a proper friend group and too forced.

If you want to describe the F1 grid, I would compare it to a class. It fits not only from the size, but also the set up; the people in a class cannot decide either who is in said group, instead they are forced to spend time with these people and there's smaller groups within. To strengthen the comparison, i'd argue the teammate lineups are similar to seating neighbors; a small bit of mutual liking is needed for things to work out but generally you can't really choose, at least I don't let my students choose.

This can also be used to talk about dynamics on the grid and I would assume makes it easier for some of you to understand that while they aren't necessarily close friends, they all know each other in some way because they are forced to.

I would like to make three examples though;

Oliver Bearman joining the grid and being supported by multiple experienced drivers makes sense, they’ve all been there and even if they aren’t in the same team or even close, they all made sure he felt welcomed and as a part of the group.

Lando Norris and Carlos Sainz becoming friends. Usually I am not a big fan of the assumption that everyone who are teammates are friends, just like how you aren't friends with everyone you ever sat next to but were just forced to talk because there was no one else. These two met each other like that though and became real friends like it sometimes is.

Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, arguably the relationship why I've spent some time to even think about this. A lot of people claim their friendship is only PR, they are not friends and only talk for cameras, but i think it's more difficult than that. Unlike Sainz and Norris, they didn't hit it off instantly and became great friends, but I do still think that they talk, even if only because they are forced to spend time together in the garage. With Sainz leaving, it's interesting. Even if they weren't proper best friends the way Sainz and Norris were, it's still sad and weird to not be close to someone anymore.

Another thing that made this come up again was the recent grill the grid episode, where Norris didn't remember Ocon which proves my point that they aren't a friend group. There's videos of them talking, they know each other, but they are in completely different smaller friend groups on the grid. In the end it's not that deep, Norris forgetting Ocon isn't him bullying Ocon out but simply proves that they aren’t best friends.

It is important to mention though that I do not know these people and it's only observations and interpretations based on my own experiences with class and friendship dynamics. Like always, if someone disagrees or feels the need to share their opinion, I'm free to hear anyone out.

Also; drivers forgetting the names of other drivers they are supposed to be friends with isn’t that deep either. Today i accidentally called my best friend of seven years the name of my cat, it's really not that deep.

[ashkabbom]

Hiiiiiiiii!!!! I was wondering if u could do a platonic haikyuu story? With Sugawara's younger sibling (Idrc the gender u write :3) + the third years? Byyyyyeeeee!!!!!!

Dear Anon, you reminded me of something I didn't even remember existed, I never knew about Sugawara's brother, so it's going to be based on my head 😞.

English is not my first language, so please correct me if anything is wrong and sorry for delaying this so much.

I had two paths and I ended up going the first one, but feel free to ask me to do it another way. Take care and drink water🫶🏽

Big future, little beginners

→Sugawara's younger brother + Third Years x Child!Male!Reader (PLATONIC)

Summary/Synopsis: A day with your best friend, his brother and his friends

Sugawara/Kōshi= Older brother

Suga= Younger brother

The day had just begun for you, it's okay that you hadn't even gotten up from the mattress, the warmth of your blanket was so comfortable... And then someone starts poking your head with... Their foot???

"Hurry up! We're going to be late if you keep sleeping." A boy's voice tells you and in response you just summarize something about today being Saturday. "You've got to be kidding me... It's 7 AM ON A FRIDAY!"

The boy says to you and suddenly a snap in your head. It was Friday, and Friday means that there is still school, having school means no sleep until 9am.

"You finally woke up.. Good morning to you too" The boy says smiling. Not just any boy, but Suga, your best friend since you had changed schools about a year ago. You decided this as soon as you started talking to him for the first time.

You look at the clock on the dresser next to your friend's bed. 7:20am, you both had to leave at 7:45am to get to school.

You curse and quickly get up to start getting ready. Suga laughs at your desperation and goes to the kitchen to wait for you.

"How come it takes you so long to eat breakfast?" Your friend asks you, genuinely confused. You were walking to school together and you had been shoving a bread roll down your throat for 10 minutes.

"It's too early, my mouth is too slow to chew" You said as you chewed.

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" He scolds you with a smirk. "That's an excuse for your laziness, lazybones."

You let out a few "Hum, Hunfs!" as you chewed, indignant at such an accusation against you. You weren't lazy!

"But seriously, do we need to be walking so far ahead of him?" You say after chewing, looking back and seeing Kōshi, the oldest Sugawara, walking a little behind the two of you.

Your friend sighs a little. He feels a pang of guilt, not wanting to even look back.

"There comes a time in your life when your parents or older siblings taking you to school is embarrassing!" Suga says it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world to everyone. "I'm a grown-up now, I know how to go to school by myself."

"Oooh... I get it I guess" You didn't know if he remembered that you were only 7 years old, but you understood that he wasn't THAT little anymore, right? "Se você tá dizendo, quem sou eu pra questionar.."

It was hard to tell if you would feel the same way. Mom was working a lot lately and couldn't take you to school, but you always used to have a friend to go to school with you.

You loved the Sugawara brothers and didn't mind going to school with them, it was really cool actually!

"I can't stand having to wake up early and go to school anymore." You complain out loud when you realize that you are arriving at the school gate.

"You don't like waking up early in general, do you?" Suga says looking at you with a small smile.

Before you can disagree, you and he hear your friends calling out to you. The small frown on your face soon disappears and is replaced by a cheerful smile.

You and Suga give Kōshi a quick hug, who laughs at the quick little goodbye, and soon you're running towards your friends.

"The independence phase is definitely something.." Kōshi says and sighs, with a tired face, to himself before looking at his friends.

"Let me guess, your brother again?" Daichi says looking at the two younger boys far away from them.

"He's in the 'I'm too old for this' phase and since then he's been wanting to be more independent," Sugawara reflects a little on this. "But he's only 7 years old."

"He's probably doing it because he wants to impress his best friend," Asahi says with a slight laugh. "It's normal."

"You were just like him." Daichi laughs a little, remembering when they were younger. "The difference is that you were a little more sociable, but your independent phase was definitely something."

"Oh, that's right! There was that time in-" Asahi starts almost laughing.

"Okay okay okay! We don't need to keep going back to my past!" Sugawara complains, patting both of his friends on the back, who only laugh in response.

Soon the trio heads off to their own classes and lessons.

At the end of class you run out of the school gates excitedly, your friend running right behind you, laughing and saying that you were going to get hurt.

Kōshi wasn't waiting for the two of you alone, Asahi and Daichi were also beside him. You connect point A to point B in your head, and shout towards them "Surprise attack", jumping on Asahi, Suga doing the same to Daichi, the older Sugawara laughing at the situation.

You ride all the way to Kōshi's house on Asahi's back, insisting that this was the only way you could get to the house. His friend, on the other hand, was holding Kōshi's hand the entire way as he talked about what happened at school today.

"Today in kindergarten I got hit in the face with a ball!" The others laugh at how happily you say that.

"At least you're happy, but didn't that hurt?" Daichi asked a little worried, but a child falls, cries and in a few seconds he's back to normal, right?

"Yes! Because Suga is teaching me how to play volleyball, so I was able to catch almost all the balls!" You boast happily.

"Oh? He's teaching?" Kōshi looks at the younger Sugawara, who is embarrassed but quickly tries to hide it with a smug face.

"Obviously! We're going to be the best volleyball player in the universe." He says a little nervously, but convinced of his words, as if it were an undeniable fact.

"The best players?" Asahi asks curiously.

"No! The best player! Like a fusion of the Power Rangers." You explain obviously. "We can share first place together!"

"Ah, yes that makes sense." Both three agree with your... Reference.

"You'll see! In the future we'll be playing and you'll be watching us and cheering and..." You think of something else to complete your sentence.

"And dying of envy at how much bigger we're going to be than you, you're going to be very proud of us!" The younger Sugawara completes and you just agree with 'uhum! uhum!'.

The older trio laugh at your words, but they firmly agree and say that they will be the first fans of the two future players.

You soon complain when you realize that you're going to have to get off Asahi's back because you're already in front of Sugawara's house.

Soon you were standing on the floor, next to Suga, it was still afternoon and only now did you realize that Asahi and Daichi hadn't gone to their houses.

"We're going to go out and buy something and walk around a bit, I already told mom. Do you want me to buy something for you two?" Kōshi asks and you think for a bit.

"Marshmallow! Colorful marshmallow and ice cream" Suga says and you quickly agree. Tomorrow would be Saturday, you would be playing video games tonight and sleeping late tomorrow.

"Okay okay, if the money allows I'll buy you something to drink too. Behave yourselves." Kōshi tells you and ruffles both of your hair, you laugh and the younger Sugawara complains a little.

You both say goodbye to the trio, they soon begin to walk away, but before you actually enter the house Kōshi calls Suga.

"A little bird told me that if you look under my bed, you might, supposedly, find a volley ball." He says leaving the doubt in the air with a little smile, turning back and walking with his two friends.

You and Suga are confused for a few seconds, just standing at the door, but soon your heads work and you run inside the house after closing the door.

"But haven't you had that volley ball for about 5 or 6 years?" Asahi asks after noticing that the younger Sugawara didn't know about the volleyball.

"He would throw the ball everywhere when he was a baby, which led to some broken things. My gift was almost his, since he would start crying if someone caught the ball" Sugawara says sighing as he remembers that that ball had even been thrown into the toilet.

"I didn't know he liked playing volley too, he always said it was a bit boring every time he came to see it." Daichi said curiously.

"I didn't know about it either, but I think I already suspected it, whenever he can he'll watch it even though I've already said he finds it boring" Sugawara responds with a little laugh. "He's always been quiet and shy. But I'm so happy that he shares something he likes with someone he likes."

"He's pretty set on what he likes, so I think he'll actually play volley ball until he can't anymore," Asahi muses as they continue walking.

"They're both going to be good players in the future if they want to keep going." Daichi says, placing a hand on Sugawara's shoulder, who nods and smiles. His little brother, playing volleyball.

Needless to say, you and your friend played volleyball all afternoon. You ended up falling asleep after dinner.

"OH! Look there! They really came!" You say jumping and waving to some people in the stands.

You were waving more specifically to a trio sitting in the stands. A very excited Sugawara cheered along with Daichi and Asahi trying to calm the two down a bit. They were just giving encouraging words but everyone around was listening.

"Yeah.. I know, I noticed..." Suga says looking at the stands and nodding slightly to his brother.

"Why are you all shy now? You were almost bursting with the hope that they would come see the- Ow!" You suddenly get a pinch on your arm. "Why this out of nowhere? Don't tell me you're embarrassed? Huh? Suga? Huh?"

Suga starts to walk away from you, ignoring your provocations. The trio in the stands couldn't help but smile seeing the scene.

"I think no matter how much time passes, they will still be those two children that we saw grow up." Daichi sighs as he watches his team organize themselves for the match, Asahi and Sugawara are unable to say otherwise.

[shut-up-danny-kun]

My ratings of every Sherlock Holmes adaptation I've ever read/heard/watched

No idea why I'm doing this. I have two assignments due. Keep in mind my memory is not perfect and feel free to disagree.

Original stories and novels by Arthur Conan Doyle

Mysteries ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Characters ⭐⭐

I've read all of them, believe it or not. I was a bored kid. Conan Doyle really was a genius - to this day not a single adaptation has managed to surpass him in mystery construction. The adventures are unpredictable, believeable and very clever. As for characters...I love the original Holmes and Watson, but most others could be replaced by cardboard cutouts, and the besties themselves occasionally suffer from being Victorian. Doyle, like most of his contemporaries, is terrified of emotional honesty. But I'm willing to explain it away by saying it's Watson himself who doesn't want to bare his heart too much.

Additional stories by Adrian Conan Doyle

Mysteries ⭐⭐⭐

Characters ⭐⭐

Yep, that was Conan Doyle's son. Look...he tried. The spirit of the original is definitely there and he nails the characters, but main draw of the original stories - the mysteries - is not the same. They just aren't as clever! Holmes' deductions are too far-fetched, to the point where I sometimes want to tell him “yo Sherlock, that was bullshit right there”. Not worth a read. Sorry, kid.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson - the Soviet adaptation

Mysteries (same as original) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Characters ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Cinematography ⭐⭐⭐

Am I biased because of nostalgia? Highly likely. But I love this show with all my heart. My favorite Dr. Watson by a mile, and the Holmes is far more kind and calm than you're probably used to seeing. The chemistry between them is awesome (the actors were actually friends!!!). Even the most basic background characters are charming. The acting goes a bit more into theatre than I would like, though, and the small budget definitely shows, especially to a modern audience. And of course, they couldn't go to London, so they had to settle for other European cities, which just ain't it.

Guy Ritchie movies

Mysteries ⭐⭐⭐

Characters ⭐⭐⭐

Cinematography ⭐⭐⭐⭐

I'm glad they tried to put a little more sauce into the besties, but Watson ended up kind of unlikeable and Sherlock turned straight. I wouldn't have a problem with the latter if Irene Adler was interesting, and I'm pretty sure she did some crazy shit in those movies, but I barely remember her at all. Sad! The mysteries aren't that mindblowing, which is actually good because it's easy to lose track of what's going on when Guy Ritchie is Guy Ritchie-ing. Speaking of - it's a blockbuster, it looks and sounds amazing, but I don't find it particularly memorable.

The BBC Sherlock with Cumberbatch and Freeman

Mysteries ⭐⭐⭐

Characters ⭐⭐⭐

Cinematography ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This one is hard to rate because there is a big drop in quality in the middle of the show. I only really like the first two seasons. To them, I'd give 4 stars for mysteries and 5 stars for characters. But I can't just ignore the absolute shitshow that came after, can I? Okay, I can say one thing for certain: I love this show's visual style. I think it's the best way to portray Holmes' thinking, and the locations are so memorable and well-designed. The first two seasons were also funny as fuck. If the characters in Ritchie's adaptation can be too mass-market, here they all come with their own little...weirdnesses and annoyances, which sometimes make them more endearing (MOLLY HOOPER I LOVE YOU) and sometimes make me want to scream and tear my own hair out in a bad way (congratulations Martin Freeman, that's the worst anyone has ever done it).

Sherlock & Co. from Goalhanger

Mysteries ⭐⭐⭐

Characters ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

They made Sherlock Holmes into a podcast! Sherlock & Co. is the perfect modern-day adaptation because it does the same things that Doyle did - tunes into the Zeitgeist and connects the crimes to the anxieties of modern life! Ah, but Doyle is still unsurpassable. The only adaptation where I've been able to solve some mysteries before the big reveal, which, ironically, is disappointing. Incredible characters: loveable, complex, believable. Least homosexual adaptation despite being the most recent one. I don't mind at all, their friendship is adorable and Marianna is a great addition to the dynamic.

[anfie-in-the-box]

Rest for both wicked and weary

Notes

The eleventh of October is my birthday, but no congratulations needed — I only celebrate by gifting things to other people. Please have this piece dedicated to @dragon-tamer-1, who I value endlessly. The prompt was Error and Dream relaxing peacefully; I'm not sure if it's particularly fluffy, there's definitely some angst here, but even more Hurt/Comfort.

。。。

Dream prepares for his visit to the Anti-Void painstakingly. He wears clothes of soft gray shades, only leaving the tiara and the cape untouched, so it doesn't bother Error's weak eyesight yet has enough colour to attract his attention. Then Dream gets a cane — in the Anti-Void, vast and ever-changing, you don't believe your eyes; you stay vigilant and keep your step light, weightless almost. Luckily, Dream isn't a normal skeleton, he just has a body of one; and even that can be corrected with the right training. Or just experience, he supposes; oh, how he used to shamble around, making Error laugh, before he realised he could use a cane. Like a blind being, only he is indeed blind in the Anti-Void, like all not-errors are. He's a stranger there, and since he can't become an error, an unwelcome one.

Dream sighs, putting on thin gloves, just in case. He's ready now. 

It takes time to focus properly — the Anti-Void is utterly chaotic, constantly rebuilding itself, and full of creatures beyond comprehension. Some of them are capable of feeling, some aren't, some feel but so differently Dream is left confused — he's too used to his empathic abilities. 

But eventually, finally, he finds the right being. So he teleports. 

Error instantly spots him, even though Dream appears behind him. He might be half-blind with that poor eyesight of his, but his intuition is impeccable — at least when it comes to beings with souls, which Dream is. 

"I was waiting for so long," Error complains, irritated. "How many tries did it take to find me?" 

"Just one," Dream smiles widely. "It took more time, but I managed to find you in one try." He knows he sounds very proud of himself, but that's okay. With Error, he's allowed to feel and think unapologetically. Error, though he demands attention, lets Dream go just as easily. And besides, they teach each other many things — Error knows how to be selfish very well indeed and learns from Dream how to be more empathetic and considerate.

They work together quite nicely.

Lost in his pride, Dream forgets to use the cane and immediately trips and falls — not right on his face though — there are blue strings keeping him airborne. He giggles awkwardly and says, "Thanks." 

"Yeah, yeah, tell me how great I am." Error doesn't turn around but Dream knows he grins. He can't help smiling in return. 

"You can put me down now, you know," Dream half-suggests, half-asks while wiggling slightly to try and untangle himself without Error's help. Tough luck. 

"As if you could escape on your own!" Error gloats. "I hold the entire universes, a small guardian like you doesn't stand a chance!" 

"Yet Ink manages," Dream disagrees carefully. 

"That cheater doesn't have a soul. You do." 

Now that's something Dream hasn't pondered over. Not right now either — as soon as Error sets him free, he scurries to his blue bean bag chair — this time using the cane, of course, — and sits down — lies down almost. It's warm and soft. Cozy. So big it's more of a bed than a chair; which might as well be true, there's nothing else here resembling a bed, and Dream knows for sure Error loves sleeping.

"Where did you even get your bean bag from?" Dream asks, ready to hear it's stolen like chocolate from Underfell and the lives of innocents from any other AU. 

Error doesn't reply instantly. Dream even considers standing up and looking Error in the sockets to see what's wrong, but then he finally says, "I actually don't remember. Like it's always been there, maybe even before me."

Who knows, it might be true. The Anti-Void contains and loses all sorts of creatures, after all. 

Error sounds distressed like he always is when his memory acts up, so Dream hurries to roll closer and asks, "A pinkie?" 

"A hand," Error replies, every sound of a single word glitching. 

Dream gives him a bare hand — he still hasn't found gloves tender enough to pacify Error's glitching fits. For some reason it's easier for him to touch Dream's bones than any fabric they'd tried. 

Perhaps it's time to ask if Error has any idea why. When he gets better, of course. Hopefully it doesn't last long.

Dream squeezes Error's hand and gets a squeeze in return. At least he's conscious and not rebooting…

"You feel… different. There's more, er, something other than magic in you. Magic in skeleton-monsters or even monsters in general is more solid than whatever you're made of. Not even ghosts are anything like you." Error explains. 

"Positivity," Dream clarifies. "I'm made of positity. Not entirely, my bones are just that — magical bones; but even those are covered with positive energy. And my eye-lights, my insides, my attacks are all pure positivity." 

"Well, that explains it," Error shrugs. "You're basically so much of a sunshine it overwhelms my phobia and cancels it. As much as it can be canceled, I suppose." 

"Does it really help though? My presence, my… touch?" Dream pauses before the last word, feeling all warm yet uncertain. 

He knows it does. And knows Error knows he knows. But hearing the answer and believing it are two different states of mind. Dream's yet to reach the second one. 

And so Error answers absolutely honestly, "It does."

The two of them then sit together, still holding hands, resting in peace and quiet.

Later Error might or might not steal a book or a few and make Dream read to him, and Dream will read, silently reminiscing about the days of old, when his brother was alive but not happy, not since the villagers came to be. He loved the books though, and loved reading them to Dream, though the little guardian of positivity was beside the Tree less and less, helping the villagers where he could, and then where he couldn't but still did, because people demanded. The memories are bittersweet, and even later Dream will share a few with Error, and Error will listen attentively, and then share his own foggy memories of the past, full of inconsistent and even missing bits.

"A hug and a trip to that version of Outertale I found?" Error asks suddenly. 

"Sounds like a plan," Dream beams. Error rarely requests hugs but that just makes them even more precious to the guardian of positivity. 

So they stand up — Error effortlessly, Dream's with a bit more difficulty, he's not exactly used to furniture like Error's bean bag, — and embrace. 

"Is the texture of my clothes still good?" Dream asks when they let go of each other. 

Error nods, grinning, "Perfect, as I deserve."

"Glad to hear that. Outertale?" 

"Yeah. It's unlike most of the AUs where some people manage to evacuate. True genocide, nobody left. You won't feel a thing, not a single grieving or furious soul," Error looks at Dream with pride. 

"That's… really smart, actually." Dream says thoughtfully. "Nothing to make me stronger, but also nothing to make me weaker or attract Corrupted." 

"Of course it's smart. It was my idea after all." Error boasts and opens a portal. "You first." 

Dream smiles at him and makes his first step into outer space. He's not afraid; he won't be alone in its solitude. 

。。。

Notes

Lots and lots of headcanons here!

Anti-Void being full of non-existent things, Dream's true nature peaking through his skeleton form... It was really nice to finally share those.

Also very proud of the title choice here. It came to me naturally. I instantly knew — that's it. As perfect as anything in this world can be.

[thatuselesshuman]

How I get shit done in a way that works

For reference: I have many illnesses (some that now force me to use a cane in the short term) and autism

So I was cleaning my room today and I realized that I have a process of getting things done that may help some people, so here I am sharing it on ye ol Tumblr. Feel free to comment on it, disagree, add advice, and generally just yap cause I am in no way a professional

Anyways...

Step One: The most important step

As the title says, this is the most important step. This step starts with putting on a banger playlist or an audio book or anything that'll get you in the zone. This is important cause if it's not a vibe I'm not gonna do it.

The second part of this step is knocking out the easiest thing that'll make the most difference. Using me cleaning my room as an example, I packed up the large pile of clothes I have to donate that was covering a lot of my floor. It only took like five minutes and it made my room look a lot less messy. This is important because I typically have a hard time starting a project because I think of all of the things I have to do, the time it'll take, and I'll get overwhelmed and just not do it. Knocking something out that makes the task seem way less daunting and therefore allows me to start.

Step Two: Break it up

The next step is to break up the rest of your tasks into small but not menial tasks. Using the same example, I broke up my room into: pick up shoes, pick up dirty clothes, pick up trash, put shoes into the shoe cubby, put away any other miscellaneous items, hang up clothing, and vacuum. These tasks are doable but still make a difference in the cleanliness of my room, which motivates me to get to the next task. If the task is too small, it seems daunting to the rest because you can't see them making a difference. If the task takes too long, you'll quickly get discouraged because the amount of time it could take to do the rest seems like forever.

Step Three: Give yourself grace

I lied, this may be the most important step. After every task, you have to allow yourself to quit if you want to. Even if you only get the first step done, you must allow yourself to quit if you feel the need. If you force yourself to keep chugging on despite being overstimulated, tired, etc, then the task may get done in the short term but you'll be way less likely to ever even start next time. If you get overwhelmed after the first step, then that's fine. You can try again tomorrow or in an hour or two. Forcing yourself isn't the answer.

Plus, I find that after I get into the swing of things, I don't want to quit. Very rarely do I find myself quitting after the first, second, or even third step. Sure, occasionally I'll have a rough day and I'll quit early on, but then I'll just try again. Living in your body isn't a 100 meter dash, it's a marathon, which means you can't go 100% the entire race or else you'll never finish.

Step Four: Reward yourself

Once you accomplish your goal, reward yourself. It doesn't have to be anything big. For example, after I finished cleaning I rewarded myself by making my favorite dish for dinner. When you reward yourself, it allows yourself to feel accomplished and happy with the outcome. You'll remember that feeling next time, which will make it all the more easier to start.

TL;DR: You got this! You've gotten this far. You've lived too damn long to be bested by something like this. Tackle that task, I believe in you!

[softly-potter]

Blacksun Week - Day Three

Day three submission for Blacksun week ☀️

@fromshadowstosun

Prompt: unspoken word

Word count: 788

Warning: depictions of depression

-

"Blake."

Blake looks up, blinking out of her blank stare and shifts, her back stiff. Sun is starring at her from across the table, his hands tented and his chin is pressed against his fingers.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Blake whispers and her throat feels like its been run over a few times. 

Don't say it.

He drops his hands and instead of speaking, offers her a small smile before his attention moves back to his cereal. They both know what he was going to say; they both know it's better that he doesn't.

Standing, she gingerly takes her mug to the sink, and when she passes him, he grabs her wrist. She shuts her eyes because she knows if she looks at him, she'll crack. Her ribcage will splinter and every word she's ever thought, every emotion of hate and desperation and love and anger will spill out of her like spools over ribbon.

"Baby." Sun whispers and his voice nicks her heart, chipping at it's walls. She tugs her arm free, and empties the contents of her mug into the sink before she stalks to her room, making herself close the door gently instead of slamming it. He doesn't deserve any of it, but especially not her anger.

As she settles herself on the edge of the bed, she strains to hear his movements. His spoon clangs against his bowl before she hears the chair scrap against the floor as he stands, his footsteps light in the kitchen. Blake presses her knuckles to her mouth as she tugs her knees to her chest and listens, her eyes fluttering shut as his footsteps pad down the hall, and pause before her door.

"I'm headed to class," Sun says through the door, his voice slightly muffled. Right, class. When was the last time she attended one? She can't remember. How she was supposed to just bounce back from the Ever After to a normal life is beyond her, yet the answer is so simple; she couldn't.

"Want me to bring you something when I get back?" He asks when she doesn't respond, and Blake shifts, distracts herself by picking lint from her leggings.

"No." she says, but her voice is quiet and she doesn't know if he can hear her. She waits for the sound of his footsteps, and cringes when she hears the doorknob turn instead.

"Blake," Sun says, his face laced with a mixture of concern and optimistic expectation, and it makes Blake's skin shiver. "I just..."

Don't say it, please.

"I'm worried," Sun says, dodging the statement they both dread. "about you, and this. you can't...hole up."

"There's nothing for you to worry about." Blake sighs, turning over to her back. She stares at the ceiling, at its dingy colors and realizes she never painted her bedroom the way she wanted to.

She hears Sun huff and imagines him crossing his arms. "My girl’s got survivor’s guilt and that's not right."

Blake shoots up straight, her swishing around her shoulders as she glares at him. "I'm not your girl."

"Uh huh." Sun grunts, his nostrils flaring and she knows he wants to disagree. Blake balls her fists.

"I'm not. I am nothing to you, got it?" She seethes, her anger palpable. She wants to scream, to tear at her hair until it breaks, cut into her skin until it bleeds and suddenly she's not sure she even wants to continue breathing.

Suns mouth twists into a sad expression and she watches as his fingers flex in their gloves. "Blake, I lo-"

"Don’t.” she snaps, and her voice shakes. She blinks rapidly before she turns away, surprised by the sudden tears. When was the last time she'd had enough energy to cry?

"Blake." He tries again, softer this time.

"Sun," Blake retorts, her tone matching his. "Don’t, okay? You'll break us if you do."

She glances at him just in time to see him nod, and then he's walking so quickly that she barely has time to register his proximity. He cups her face with both hands, blue eyes staring for so long it makes her shiver.

Dropping his head, Sun kisses her softly on the cheek, and whispers. "Alright."

He lets go of her face and heads for the door. Blake's skin is flushed where his mouth had been, and she presses her icy fingers' to the spot as if that'll warm her extremities. Glancing over his shoulder, he offers her a sad smile, saying all the things she can't bear to hear.

I love you.

She tries to smile back but it's perplexing and feels out of place on her face, so she gives him a soft nod.

I love you too.

[spiderdoesthings]

Hear me out

Infected animals in last of us is a talked about idea (within the fandom, atleast) but, i feel like talking about in in a little more logic based way. First off, we have to point out that there currently is a fungus (cordyceps) also known as Zombie-ant fungus that does just that, takes over an ants body. heres the thing. breakout day was september 26th 2013, meaning that somehow, this fungus evolved so quickly that it went from ants to humans, before it went from ants to smaller animals.

Now, because of this, theres another point. Humans are mammals. Meaning that the fungus also had to find a way to adapt to a whole new group of creatures.

the last timeline area is about 2040 (thank you to https://www.reddit.com/r/thelastofus/comments/158xmvx/the_last_of_us_timeline/?rdt=40385 this person for providing the timeline im using) meaning roughly 27 years, and still no animal mutations. so, whatever mutated the fungus was either extremely slow and started back way before we knew (talking likely more then 100 years) OR was very very rapidly evolved.

there is the option of this being a bio-weapon, however, seeing as it was never mentioned once, i am going to assume that this means it is a freak accident (however i do wanna revisit the bio-weapon idea later)

All of this to say that within our timeline, or atleast within ellies life, we may at most see small things (im talking maybe rabbit or smaller) or things more-so related to people (primeapes, really) be infected. i think that if we ever are to get infected things like giraffes, bears, wolfs, deer, etc that people are talking about, the chances are a cure or atleast something that starts to kill it off (or, honestly, it dying off on its own) is going to happen first.

yes, evolution doesnt always take forever, but, the evolution that takes less time is typically a much smaller change, not a whole new group of animals, seeing as we are likely speaking about fish, reptiles and birds, and mammals such as possums that are built to fend of things like this.

Also, we saw that the rat king was the furthest this thing has gotten, meaning that humans are somehow putting a dent into the issue (seeing as the most things you fight end up being stalkers, runners and clickers, all things roughly within a year of infection) and even bloaters and shamblers take several years to form, so clearly, this thing isnt exactly fast moving past the original stage of infection. (by that i mean, past the stage of clicker, it could take an additional five years to change, so while its fast acting to take control, it still takes ages to be deadly/have a good defense)

my theory is that with animals, the fungus just wont both. animals are not a threat to it, humans are. and clearly it has some sort of intelligence because, well, its taking over a human body, something that we still don't know 100% about to this date. likely the only animals that we would see infected anyways are dogs, farm animals, and rats, seeing as dogs and farm animals are around humans the most, and rats are typically in the sewer areas, where we find the more thick spore areas.

is this scientific? no, no it is not. this is just a personal theory. if you disagree, thats fine, feel free to comment, but also remember this is a fictional game

[herwrittenuniverse]

Thoughts on Rayllum Post S4

Last week, I posted a chapter of my story Lunation and got some pretty divisive comments. It got my wheels turning and before I knew it, my fingers were flying, and I ended up writing something small an essay on Rayla and Callum's communication at this point in their journey.

I'm going to put it below because I feel like people may disagree (which, by all means, you are free to do so and keep scrolling without reading). Click below to read more.

Are you sure you want to read?

There's still time to turn around!

Alright then!

Also, please feel free to sound off in the comments or reblogging.

Edit: Adding this one because I feel like this blog is making its rounds and it needs to be said. Let me make this 100000% clear that this post is not to blindly defend Rayla in any way. Her actions (lying/leaving) in TTM were awful (and I talk more about that below). However, this post is a reaction to some comments on my story - comments that made me realize that there are those in the fandom that believe her actions are (especially to Callum) unforgivable - that no matter what Rayla does, says, or thinks in future seasons, she will forever be at fault for leaving, and doesn't deserve to reconcile with Callum.

Original Post:

I didn’t realize how much of the TDP Community takes serious fault in (ahem, hates) post-TTM Rayla. Last week, I posted a chapter of Lunation (a fanfiction/character study of what would happen if Rayla and Callum actually talked post S4) where Rayla and Callum try to talk about things. In my story, Rayla realized how much she truly hurt Callum, and while she attempts to explain herself, she ultimately apologizes, realizing her actions hurt Callum more than she could ever imagine. Callum, who is still blinded by anger and repressing a lot of his feelings, lashes out at her. It makes them both explode and nothing is settled between them (until later chapters - but that’s a different post).

Obviously, I am just a fan, and I am using this work as a creative release. But I take pride in proper characterizations - I want to be sure each party member is behaving like they would in the show. And, on top of it all, I am spending my free time putting genuine love and devotion into something purely because I enjoy it.

But many of the responses on the chapter really left me scratching my head, and quite frankly, made me…sad. Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and that is not the issue - I understand you can’t please everyone. I was genuinely upset because people seem completely ignorant of the absolute trauma Rayla has been through. Readers called me biased towards Rayla (with no sympathy towards Callum), called Rayla toxic, said they want Rayla to "truly regret her decision and actually apologize," calling my interpreted apology disingenuous because I used her family dynamic as one reason why she would leave to protect Callum (and honestly, likely also because she didn't grovel at Callum's feet). 

I am not saying what Rayla did in TTM was right - actually, I think the opposite. Rayla’s response was definitely not healthy, and it wasn’t correct, and there were more plausible options. Yet having been through trauma myself, I understand Rayla’s actions. When TTM begins, we see how Viren has taken away literally everyone Rayla has loved - every parent she’s ever had,  including (in a way) Ethari, who is not dead but is forbidden to see his foster daughter due to the fact that she is a Ghost. 

Rayla left to protect literally the last thing that she loves in life - Callum, and probably Ezran too (but remember, she saw Callum encased in ice along with her parents and Runaan in TTM). Through Seasons 1 - 3, Rayla is self-sacrificing, rash, and guilty - her choice to leave, while not right by any means, aligns with her character that we have all seen through Seasons 1-3. 

Again, was her decision right? Nope. Was it correct? Absolutely not. But those were Rayla’s actions, and at the time, she felt it was right and justified, which again fits into her character. In S4, we see Rayla come back empty-handed, and frankly, that shows growth. She realizes that her attempt was fruitless, and hence returns. It sure looks shitty to Callum because she has nothing to account for - and at the beginning of S4, he seems justifiably hurt, angry, yet still hung up on Rayla. So yes, Rayla’s return is incredibly hurtful to Callum - but let’s not forget that it was likely also hard on Rayla. She is both a prideful and honorable creature, so returning to Katolis empty-handed had to be one of the hardest things for her to do, especially with nothing to account for. No one likes to admit they’re wrong, especially about something as big of a decision as that. That is not to take away from Callum’s pain - it is just as hard and traumatic for Callum. But I think members of the TDP Community are forgetting that it’s hard on Rayla too. 

And Callum’s ire is understandable. However, my interpretation from S4 (and from his short story 'Inheritance') was that for two years, he stuffed down all his feelings and made everyone around him miserable. At this point, those around Callum have been dealing with him wallowing for two years - and now, the love of his life is here, in front of him, and he is still choosing not to address anything with Rayla. He is withdrawn, and has been for the past two years. Rayla's return is essentially forcing him to finally process what has happened. That’s why I decided to explore Lunation. S4 gave us no resolution with Rayllum, and it had the gears in my brain going. 

Some people are also saying that Ezran and Soren should be loyal to Callum because they know him the longest, and that they should be more angry with Rayla (both in the show and in Lunation). Yet I see Soren and Ezran as mediators, both in the show and throughout my story. Yes, they’ve seen their friend/brother desperate for nearly two years because of Rayla (which I’m sure gets tiring in itself). Now Rayla is back, but Callum is not taking any means to move communication forward. This is plainly addressed when Ezran and Callum speak in the Drakewood (“Lots of things are hard, like magic. But you figured that one out.”) and when Rayla and Soren speak on their ‘adventure’ (“When you left, you hurt him - real bad.”). It is natural that Ezran and Soren are not going to have the same bitter response to Rayla that Callum had because A. Their love/relationship with Rayla is different, and they have likely already processed what has happened. B. It is not in their nature to be inherently angry or bitter (Ezran, especially). C. I would like to think that, at this point, they want to see Callum happy. I am sure they were angry and mourning Rayla in their own way, but Callum would be the most affected by Rayla’s departure. 

Let’s also not forget…that Jack DeSena (when being interviewed about S4) himself said that Callum repressed his feelings during the two year absence, and dove into magic. 

And again - in case you didn’t read the first or second time I said it - Callum has every right to be angry. But remember, these are conflicting emotions that Callum is suppressing. He loves Rayla deeply, but is also angry and hurt. Still yet, he hasn’t talked about it or addressed it, even at the end of S4. A person who is withholding all these feelings is going to act angry, bitter, moody, and likely lash out - we saw evidence of all of this in S4. 

But…those of you who are anti-Rayla seem to miss the fact that Callum is still in love with her. He never stopped loving her - not ever in these two years. But he still has these repressed, unspoken emotions that are going to burst through, and that is what I wanted to explore in Lunation.

I deliberately made their conversation drawn out and slow, starting right from Through the Surface (my fanfic that takes place before Lunation). They’ve been slowly getting there, bit by bit…because if you’ve ever tried to repair a relationship (especially one where both parties are hurt), it takes time. That’s one reason why I liked S4, as Rayllum wasn’t addressed at all. Why would it? While it was disappointing to Rayllum fans, it was a perfectly normal response. It is not realistic for a couple to just pick back up after two years and pretend like nothing happened. 

And ultimately, that is the point of Lunation - to show that relationships are messy, are not linear by any means, and that in order to make it work, there needs to be communication, and communication is freaking hard. 

As a bonus, for those of you insisting “But Rayla hurt Callum! Rayla doesn’t deserve to go back with Callum! How can you ever go back to someone who has hurt you?” To you, I say this: it is painfully obvious that you have not had any complex relationships, life experiences, or the ability to empathize. It seems like you’ve never had someone you hurt (or they hurt you) terribly , only for the love to remain ever present. Truly, it must be nice to live on a plane of reality where things are so black and white. But in my reality, life is not black and white. Life is messy, and love is the messiest thing of them all. 

And, on top of it all, these are fictional characters that do not exist, and I (along with several other creators) am writing fanfiction out of free will and my love for the show. I don’t get anything out of this process (including writing this rant/blog post). So if a person doesn’t like my interpretation of these characters and this story, that’s cool - but you can say your opinion kindly and without aggression, or simply close out the tab and decide not to read. 

And hell, write your own damn story if mine makes you so angry.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

Feel free to sound off in the comments.

[alittlefrenchtree]

I don't understand why being happy on a 100% score is a bad thing. We all expected a lower % from the start and bad reviews, of course we are happy. It's only 10 reviews true and it'll go down but no one said anything when RWRB had 90% with 10reviews, I even remember that it was brought up to make comparision with those praising Anyone but you and the 80% score it got. Since when celebrating small successes is a problem in this fandom?

It's not! Of course it's not. I guess what the Anon was saying is, for them, it wasn't telling enough to be celebrate -- or to be celebrated as much as it had been.

I guess what we both saying is what happens inside a fandom and for a fandom vs what it represents for the outside and for a general audience is really different and sometimes people tend to forget a bit about that. When you're deeply involved in the fandom even the smallest things feel really intense and big and life shattering. But if you zoom out a bit, people who are a bit outside of it, even if they do love Nick, will find some reactions pretty disproportionated compared to their own experiences of things.

But it's also understandable for people who has been following and supporting Nick for many years, to be really involved in his achievements. We're all have different experiences. If you want to celebrate, feel free to. Hence the importance of finding your own people in a fandom/group. It's also relevant for previous Anon. I'm guessing they're not going around telling people who were celebrating to shut up. They come to me because they rightfully felt like I might share some of their feelings. Just because they're (or I am) annoyed by someone's else behavior, doesn't mean the said behavior is wrong. Hateful/insulting/toxic comments are never ok but everything else can co-exist even if people will disagree. Be happy for a grade. Don't be happy for a grade. Be objective. Be subjective. It's no big deal.

I wasn't around by the time RWRB got 90% and I don't know where previous Anon was at that time either but I'm pretty sure I would have say the same, that 6 or 10 reviews weren't enough to draw any conclusion on anything. Well I'm not even sure I'll give a 90% to RWRB (probably not 💀) and I still love this movie and the people who have made it.

I'm really happy Nick had a successful premiere. Not because I want the movie to be a success (I'm really not excited about the project, so i don't care that much if it does well or not. Nick is talented enough (and not even the 1st on the call sheet) so it doesn't affect his career that much if it doesn't do well) but because Nick got to experience a bit of the love and support he deserves. The day showed even more that fans will follow him from projects to projects. A large part of the audience was there for him and from what I understood, they made the experience of the screening pretty special. I think this says more and is more important than any grade. Grading creativity doesn't make much more sense to me as comparing people so, this isn't something I see worth celebrating, I guess.

TLDR: I could have summarize everything by saying: a fandom is not an unity with one universal book of rules that everybody should be following. What might be a problem for some isn't for someone else and it's ok as long nobody isn't insulting anyone else.

[maironsbigboobs]

3,4,5 for 9 we or any different subsets in the ship :)

My god I am in too deep, this is so very long

What was their first impression of each other?

Well I think Finwë Elwë and Ingwë are all about the same age and met as small children, so they don't remember their first impressions - probably just that that looked like a fun kid to play with. They do remember the first time Olwë trailed after his big brother to play with them and they thought he was very cute.

Miriel I think was also probably part of their little friend group, and perhaps Ingwë's wife (her name is canonically Ilwen) though I think she probably spent more time with other Vanyar kids.

We all know how Elwë and Melian's first meeting went.

I don't know how Olwë met his wife. I feel like he only married her in Valinor, so perhaps they never crossed paths until then.

Finwë first saw Indis dancing in Valinor, and he loved her from that moment. Indis had been watching him from afar (Ingwë is her uncle (I think), so she would have seen him around) and has been in love with him for years.

Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

Melian and Elwë are sickeningly cute and affectionate at all times. Once they're both in Valinor it only gets worse because they have seven people to fawn over now.

Indis and Finwë are almost the opposite - because of the Miriel situation Indis feels uncomfortable being too affectionate in public, but also not being affectionate enough, so she sticks to her own code of what is proper. Miriel was very affectionate when she was alive, but became more withdrawn as she got sicker during her pregnancy + after.

Olwë and Mrs. Olwë are the most affectionate with the other 7 in public, not being bound by Vanyarin conservatism or Noldorin politics.

Ilwen is the most light hearted of the lot of them and is a lot more free with her affections. Ingwë is extremely reserved at almost all times except when they are 100% alone, probably because he thinks Manwë is always watching or something.

Do they argue often? If so, what do they argue about?

Melian and Elwë don't argue so much as Melian says something, Elwë ignores it and she is proven right. Melian is fine with this because of weird Ainur reasons that I can't explain without this being 1000 words long.

In petty matters they hardly ever disagree at all, though, so it isn't a big deal.

Ilwen is a FORCE in Vanyarin politics but she makes a point never to argue with Ingwë in public. She has a brand to keep up. Indis learnt from her aunt and employs the same tactic in Tirion, though her and Finwë argue semi-frequently in private. Usually about Fëanor or their kids. She doesn't argue with the others much, hardly ever.

Miriel had no such qualms and regularly and openly challenged all of the others on matters big and small. She loved to argue and she loved to be right. See: why Fëanor is like that

Finwë argues with Ingwë and Ilwen over political and religious matters and also incredibly petty things like what colour to paint the new statue of Manwë Ingwë is paying the Noldor for.

Olwë is just happy to be included and is a very chill dude so he doesn't argue unless it is something he feels very strongly about. His wife is more strong-minded, but doesn't play as much of a role in cross-kingdom politics so doesn't argue with the others as much as she does with Olwë''s advisors.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Is It SUPER Weird To Want To Ship Scratch x Glamrock-Chica...?

[Note: Mature Reader Audience Only....also reading this is optional, also this will talk about Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss ships and Crossover ships besides Scratch x Glamrock-Chica. and yeah it does get a bit off topic as well.]

not sure if many thought about this Crossover ship idea, that involves Scratch, the Robot Rooster who in a Sonic Cartoon and who is like the Older Brother of Grounder, and was made by Doctor Robotnik...

and Glamrock Chica from FNAF Security Breach, being ship together.

does it count as a crack-ship...?

I kind of want to Crossover OTP ship them, well maybe sometime I will draw a fan art with those two being ship together.

even if it might be the weirdest ship yet, but I'm weird and I'm way better when I'm weird and not when I get really mad or sad...

and a Crossover ship between Scratch The Robot Rooster and Glamrock Chica The Chicken, is just some idea that pop into my head and the chances of others ending up doing fan art of that crossover ship is possibly very small and not likely to happen very much.

but yeah, is it super weird that I want to ship Scratch from Sonic The Hedgehog with Glamrock-Chica from FNAF Security Breach...? XD

well I have seen other unsuspected and surprising ships,

like Charlie's Dad and Angel's Dad from Hazbin Hotel, being ship together....and as weird as it might be, I can't help but like their ship.

and I'm still gonna view that Mamtella name that I started to call Stella x Mammon's ship name (who are from Helluva Boss) as something that reminds me of food and yeah as weird as it sounds when I was talking about the ship name before, it ended up making me hungry. I wouldn't be surprise if others think that ship name kind of sounds like something you put on toast...

even if that ship never becomes canon, I can't help but love the idea of those two being together in the fanon.

I am the embodiment of weirdness who at times on certain days falls under the influence of the 8th sin, which I may have had before during those two depressions I had before if that counts.

[feel free to skip to the part where it goes back to talking about ships, Scratch x Glamrock-Chica will be in bold.]

also it might not be really all that easy for some to get back to being super happy like they were before and they have to make due with the happiness they can feel even after going through a depression in 2015 and then a year or so later ending up in another one...which I can't remember if that second depression ended up first starting in 2016 or 2017, but I know it lasted way longer than the first one and at some point after getting better from it, I got sick and started throwing up and my first cat was you know, leaving us...

and if my second cat wasn't taken to the vet on time, I would of ended up losing them too, and I refuse to lose them...

and if it were possible, I would go Feral Earth Angel on Archangel Samael. also maybe there can be no real proof that he is Cain's Dad...

and yes, Cain and Seth are both my and other humans own ancestors (and apparently I'm in the bloodline that has both Seth and Cain as Ancestors...which makes them both Grandpas and Grunkles), and even if it does turn out to be true that Samael is technically Cain's Dad...he still ain't the boss of me.

anyway the other thing that stinks, was that Covid-19 that happen...

hopefully things will become better, and certain Masculine ones will stop scapegoating all humankind, even if only half of them were involved in that mess...

and well I can talk about that kind of messed up thing another time, which I don't think it is even good at all, I mean where is the freaking justice in that...?

anyway maybe sometime I will talk about how I believe that human evolution and creation are correct and well even if those who are religious and some who are more into the explaining of how we got here through science would end up disagreeing with each other but they will have come to the idea that both of them are right.

as well as the whole possibility that Eve and Lilith share descendants that would be like the Evalith Bloodline, so jokes on Lilith if she tries to harm Eve and Adams descendants, because some of them are hers as well.

and back to talking about shipping Scratch x Glamrock-Chica...

if I'm able to, I will try to draw a fan art of those two...might not end up doing that many ship drawings of them but I will try to get around to working on the first one when I'm able to.

I also wouldn't mind shipping TFA-Blitzwing with Sundrop/Moondrop/Eclipsedrop which I think their ship name would be Blitzdrop.

I think it be funny if Moondrop scares Bumblebee, like Moony could tell Bumblebee to "take your nap." in a scary way.

and just picture Moondrop and Random-Blitzwing working together to try to make Bumblebee go and take a nap...

I think Blitzwing would enjoy that too much, well the Random side of him at least would really enjoy that.

and in a Crossover ship that is a mix of TFA, Hazbin Hotel and FNAF....if you add Husk, which by the way I still love Blitzhusk and it has become one of my favorite fanon crossover ships.

but hypothetically if Husk was ship with Blitzwing and Sunny/Moony/Eclipsey, would that count as a poly relationship or Husk having a Harem, since Sunny/Moony/Eclipsey while being different personalities that share the same body but also are their own person and could end up talking with each other even when they switch places when they have to take care of the kids in the daycare.

it could be possible that Moondrop and Alastor might get along a bit too well...even if it is in a fanon timeline.

and I guess Husk having Blitzwing and Sundrop/Moondrop/Eclipsedrop ship with him could count as both a poly relationship and Harem....maybe.

and it is possible that only some poly relationships can work, but not everyone has to do a poly and might feel more into a relationship when it's just two people.

and if I had to ship Grounder with anyone, I would probably ship him with Map-Bot from FNAF Security Breach....then again maybe I will have that as a maybe ship.

I'm still gonna OTP ship Scratch x Glamrock-Chica, even if it is a weird ship that maybe not everyone will ship, and it being possibly a crack-ship, it still seems interesting and seems like the good kind of weird type of ship. I'm weird and if I have weird ship ideas, than my wanting to ship Scratch with Glamrock-Chica is gonna be one of them.

and if I want to ship Husk with Sundrop/Moondrop/Eclipsedrop, then I might actually do that to.

picture Lockdown looking at Blitzwing and Sunny/Moony/Eclipsey and how they switch between their different personalities and Lockdown could be all like "oh no....there's two of them now!" XD

and even if I ask if wanting to ship Scratch and Glamrock-Chica together is super weird, I guess even without others telling me that it's super weird, I know it is but I like the idea of them being ship together even if it isn't canon. some of the best crossover ships are fanon only. :)

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

[it's nearly the end of the year. here is a fanmail for you!]

dear nemo. i've only discovered your blog in the past 1-2 years, but i've always had this awe in me, that you post out your oc/canons! i've always been nervous about mine bcs the fandom in general are unaccepting of ocs, haha. but you make me want to feel brave about the stories i keep in myself for so long.

so here's to you 🍻🥂 i hope in the next year we can make more oc/canon. take care and be well! ✩

Hi there Nonnie :)

Welcome welcome here, and thank you for passing by and leave such sweet message in my inbox! <3

Allow me to thank you for having been with me in the past couple of years and that I am immensely happy to know that I somewhat inspired positive sentiments when it comes to posting about OC/Canon and stories connected to them! 😭💓

I know how hard it is to share Original characters out in the open, dear Gods if I don't know. Allow me to share this small thought with you, if it might be of help somewhat: sometimes, when I create characters for newer fandoms, I still get that pesky feeling of fear that I always had when I was younger (what if people are going to tear my character apart? what if I could have worked more on that and done better? what if what if what if?), because I know that the fandom can be a very *VERY* tricky place to navigate around, especially in regards of shipping and even more so when that shipping is done with an Original Character, because people can be rather disagreeable whenever something that doesn't cater to their taste happen to cross their dash. But at the end of the day, I learned just to remind myself the most important thing: that my Ocs and my stories are here for me and my enjoyement first and foremost, because I created them in order to write the story that I wanted to write, and THAT is what gives me the whole "IDGAF imma just jump right in into this big pond and figure it out as I go" attitude that, I am sure, you have seen around my blog.

And that's what I want to tell you as well <3 Do not be nervous about your stories, about your Ocs, because they are an extention of yourself and your creativity, and the people that resonate with you the most will find you and appreciate your work <3 it's a leap of faith, and it's scary, but remember that no one -no critique, no troll, no mean word- can ever take away the joy that's intrinsec in creating those brainchilden and weave their stories with their canon beloveds!

with that being said, cheers to you as well ☕☕☕☕(sorry, my cheer will be with coffee, since that's the creative juice lol) AND TO A NEW YEAR OF MORE SHENANINGAS, MORE OCS, MORE STORIES AND MORE CREATION. (and please, if you feel like talking about your oc in a safe place, feel free to do so here <3)

THIS WORLD NEEDS IT.

[forrestfanfics]

So This is Love || Age of Ultron 10: “Dear Sister”

“So This is Love” Masterlist

Previous Chapter  ||   Next Chapter  

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I kept my eyes down, examining the white and black suit that wrapped around my body perfectly. The outline of the clothes I wore underneath was practically invisible. But I could still feel how uncomfortable the loose pyjamas were. My dad was right about avoiding baggy clothes.

My first real mission and I felt completely uncomfortable.

There wasn't enough time to make a new suit, so my dad tossed me the prototype and prayed nothing could pierce my gravity bubbles. If they were gravity bubbles.

"No way, we all get through this." I turned my attention away from my suit and to my dad. "If even one tin soldier is left standing, we've lost. There's gonna be blood on the floor."

"I got no plans tomorrow night," Steve commented.

"I got first crack at the big guy. Iron Man's the one he's waiting for."

Just then, the vision guy walked past behind my dad. "That's true. He hates you the most."

I snicker at that.

Both Banner and Steve shift their heads towards me and then to my dad, who sighed.

"As much as I hate to do it, we need all the help we can get. If she ends up either getting hurt or getting in the way, I want the nearest Avenger plucking her off the battlefield."

"Don't worry. We won't let anything happen to Y/N," Steve stood up and held his fist out to me, waiting with a small smile.

I bumped my gloved fist against his. He chuckled and brought his hand up to ruffle my hair before he walked away.

"Good luck out there, kid. We don't want to lose you." Banner patted my shoulder twice as he followed after Steve.

"Y/N, I want you to listen very carefully," my dad spoke once the two were out of range.

"Whatever happens out there, I'm asking... No, I'm telling you to be careful. And put those powers to good use. Bubble yourself when necessary. No speaking around civilians, as we haven't quite figured out your voice masking. And lastly. For the love of all good things, do not make me worry by doing something stupid, you understand?"

I frowned but nodded anyway. "Dad. If anything happens to me, it's not your fault. It's mine for being so pushy. I don't know why I was suddenly so stubborn and... Antsy... Angsty? Anst...sy...? Whatever. I think it's because I was given an opportunity to break free from my endless routine. And I did everything in my power to push through... So y'know..." I give an awkward shrug. "I'm sorry."

The heavy sigh from my dad amped up my anxiety as I stood so small before him.

I squeezed my eyes shut, ready for whatever was coming.

But instead of the usual reprimanding, I was met with a hug.

"I hope this marks the end of our fights. I don't want a venom-laced argument every time we disagree on something."

I nodded in agreement. "Truce?"

"Truce."

●    ◉    ◎    ◈    ◎    ◉    ●

"Hey, Dad. Guess who I am," I said, standing on the edge of the building I was situated on, allowing the wind to blow against my hair.

I spotted the Iron Man suit flying in the distance, glancing my way for a brief moment.

I heard my earpiece beep once before a heavy sigh came up through my earpiece.

"Batman," I clarified, making my voice deeper.

"I'm confiscating your comic books when we get back."

I laughed. "Why? What's wrong with Batman?"

"He's not even a real superhero. He's just a billionaire in a suit," my dad argued.

"WOAHOHO! Sounds very familiar," I countered.

"This is different. This is real life. We'll come back to this conversation when they finally make a consistent franchise."

I huffed. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I think you're jealous that Batman sounds way cooler than Iron Man," I said smugly.

"Y/N, weren't you given a task? Get back to work. And remember: no talking."

Another beep sounded off, and I could no longer hear my dad.

I shook my head and brought up the pair of binoculars Steve gave me to scan the crowd for any obvious men made of metal.

"I dunno. Seems clear to me." Realising I had been given the red herring of all tasks to keep me off their asses.

I clicked my tongue as I lowered the binoculars, kicking a loose piece of rubble off the roof.

Where it landed was a mystery, but just as it disappeared, I noticed movement by the river.

Lifting my binoculars back up, a mini Ultron could be seen climbing up a rock.

Then more came, bursting out of the ground, jumping in from above, coming from all directions.

"Shit, shit! Guys? Incoming from literary everywhere!" I spoke into my earpiece before ditching the binoculars and jumping off the roof and into the crowd.

Panic arose from the civilians, causing them to scramble, breaking away from their path.

"Roger."

"Don't say shit."

"Rogers..."

"This is it, Y/N. The first of many battles." I said giddily, bubbling a bot and shooting it into space. I quickly remembered what my dad said about keeping my mouth shut and held back a squeal, continuing my strategy of bubbling and launching the bots away.

My excitement was very clear with each bot that I disposed of. Not par for the course given the circumstances.

The screams coming from the bridge gave me the impression that our evacuation plan had been compromised.

A loud crash came from the street ahead of me, and I watched in awe as Pietro took out several bots all in one go.

"Whoa," I mumbled to myself.

The distraction served as an opportunity for one of the bots to tackle me from behind, trapping me in a chokehold and lifting me from the ground.

"As much as I enjoy this little sibling rivalry of ours, I'm afraid... There can be only one." I saw the bot's hand in the corner of my eye, ready to blast me out of existence.

"F-Fuck!" I gasped, clawing the metal hand around my neck.

"Hello, dear sister." Ultron's voice came from the robot, sending a chill up my spine. "You were adopted, you over-grown tin can!" I spat through chokes.

I quickly outstretched my hand towards it. But instead of a bubble, the fabric around my forearm ripped into shreds as a purple claw-like blade came slicing through the bot's arm.

I was dropped, and the bot looked down at its elbow where the blade went through.

I took the chance to bubble it with my right —non-blade— hand and launched it into the sky with the rest.

I looked down at my arm, heavily panting at the sight of the purple mass starting from my elbow.

"What The FUUUUUUUCK!" I screamed in horror as it slowly morphed into the shape of my arm, purple hue fading into my normal skin colour.

"Neoma? Y/N, what's wrong?"

I couldn't even focus on the voice coming from my earpiece as I examined my arm from all angles, still feeling a bit of the blade's shape around it, much like a phantom blade.

I have officially come to the conclusion that I was definitely not an ordinary kid.

"Y/N, speak to me. Is everything alright?"

Before I could even respond, the ground shook vigorously beneath me.

I held my arms out to regain my balance as buildings in the distance began to sink.

I hurriedly rushed towards them, only to come to a full stop by a cliff.

That's when I realised. The buildings weren't sinking.

Part of Sokovia was rising.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[d-i-d-moi]

Ok girls i am here, LT , Ade. I have work i need to do, i am still here, remember i have spent time with you this morning

Compassion for yourself, acceptance for the way you are, the ways things are, acknowledge things such as how you feel,

remember we did this the other day when observing the emotions and imagery that was coming up in our head and again just then. I know that's a horrible image it is not real, it is symbolic of the terror point of understanding what was happening.

Allow the thoughts to be there, remember you do not have to believe them. They are from the past not now.

I said this morning Ade for us to write a paragraph a day on our blog for the self love work which i am conscious i have not done with you Ade. Small steps. Now what came up this morning was your deeply rooted belief that you are not loved, are unwanted, don't deserve to be free of pain, and so there is some belief you deserve to be punished, which I for one disagree with Ade. You have done nothing to warrant being in pain or to be punished. You were alone, frightened, terrified actually, confused and lost, feeling hopeless and helpless. Recognise please that you today feel empowered to a degree. There has been a change for the better for you. You can take action and change things so you help yourself not hurt yourself or destroy yourself or what you have in life.

I am very glad to hear you say you do not wish to destroy yourself Ade. As to do so would be so grossly unfair, you have been treated badly by others in the past. Not now. You are loved now. I love you. All the Ugi's love you, all the LTs love you. TASM loves you, she says so from time to time remember, TASM even spoke to you before and sent messages to n for you, that's because she cares, because she sees you are of value, and that you are worthy of caring about, which you are, very much so.

I'm sorry the thoughts are on at us again, what they are talking about is our BPs, not anyone in life today. In the past you turned on yourself Ade, your mind was unruly and it took control. No more. It is not in control of you and I now.

Remember, together we can all heal this trauma response, we are stronger connected to each other, collaborating with each other.

I need you please. I am here for you too.

I have not turned my back on you, nor will I.

I am here girls, Ade, I am here.

Remember what LT said, don't let the trauma bully you. Be our usual kind soul, be gentle and tender with the thoughts, if they will listen let them know it is ok for them to stop now, we are out of danger, the BPs aren't here with us anymore.

Nor are the men LT, correct. They are all past.

[lemoneon]

Liam and Airy, my own analysis

I'm not usually one for massive txt posts, normally I keep my thoughts to myself. But me and my friend were having this conversation the other day and I just wanted to put it out there somewhere in the world feel free to agree or disagree with me.

However, one preface I will make, is I am not going to argue. This document is merely my own character analysis of HFJone, specifically Liam with some touch on Airy. And the last thing I want is people coming for me just because I interpret characters a certain way.

Cool? Cool.

Liam

I don't think Liam is perhaps as innocent as a lot of the fandom seem to believe he is [at least the parts of the HFJOne fandom which I have met.]

I believe quite the opposite. I personally don't think Liam is a good person.

By any regards, this doesn't mean he's a terrible person who nobody should like and everybody should hate him, quite the opposite. He's a guy with many, many issues, but he also has his positives. But I don't think people should be babying him as much as I've personally seen.

Liam is an angry man. And a weird one at that. He was given the sticky notes by Stone, and though he didn't quote know what they were about at first, he followed them regardless, and once he made it to bryce, he sat outside that apartment until Bryce had no other choice but to talk to him.

Now, it's understandable to which Liam had nowhere else to go. In those 7 months, he'd lost everything, even the thought of naming someone properly, addressing Bryce as Soda Bottle, but it's still creepy as fuck to sit on the floor outside somebody's apartment after stalking them through sticky notes across America to their house until they have no other choice but to talk to you.

Again, context must be applied, but you must also consider Liam's prior experiences with morality, being he grew up on earth, and had only been gone ~7 months [this point is important when discussing Airy]

Lest we mention Liam's later actions. Inadvertently causing Bryce's death- though partial fault of his own- his obsession leading him stalking through worlds with Bryce and Texty trying to hunt down Stone, and find Airy.

Once Liam does reach Airy's dimension, his practical first motion is to try destroy the computer that caused it all. Which is a fair motion, but he very nearly didn't listen to Airy's pleads to leave the computer alone, only stopping when it was revealed it would remove any chance kf getting home.

A very, very solid reaction. 10/10, probably would do the same.

But it's what comes after which I focus on. Texty tells Liam to kill Airy, and Liam listened.

Liam hunted Airy down, chasing him across his small home area with an axe, intent on killing Airy nearly unquestionably, leading to himself getting hurt and breaking his leg again.

And what does Airy do?

He helps Liam.

Airy

This leads me onto my favourite part, my character analysis of Airy.

Again, this considers my prior interactions with the HFJOne fandom, that being oersonally the experience that people characterise Airy as an unforgivable monster who doesn't feel remorse for his actions. I am not saying this is the fandom characterisation as a whole, I understand many, many fans actually have Media literacy, I just have seen a lot of mischaracterisations.

I do not think Airy is a bad person. Nor do I think he's a good person.

I think it's wholly unfair to judge Airy based off our own standards in the first place.

Airy is someone who's been separated from existence as a whole for [from what I remember] at least 10 years. And 10 years is a long time to not talk to anybody. I know I'd go insane in that time. And thus I think its unfair for us to call Airy based on our own perceptions of morality, because that then thus begs the question on where Airy would even gain these perceptions of morality when he hasn't had to apply them for theoretically 10+ years straight. Yes, he presumably comes from batch 1's earth where he would have grown up and learnt these standards, but it's inferrable that these standards would now since be somewhat non-applicable, because these would have been irrelevant for a long period of time straight

But alternatively to this, Airy has shown that he's far from malicious. When Liam broke his leg the first time, he made a cast, and did so too the second time. Airy's actions are not out of malice- an intent to tear these object's lives apart by taking them to the plane and forcing them to compete- but out of sheer naivety. Airy does not comprehend the consequences to his actions, as he has long existed in a place where actions do not have any consequences on anyone, because there is nobody for him to matter to.

He is alone.

So when Liam finds him, he seeks companionship. He treats Liam as kindly as he can, he doesn't quite understand what is compassion and what is malice anymore in terms of society standards on earth, but he recognises to treat Liam in a way he perceives as kind. Yes, this is lost on Liam, so too is Liam's anger lost on Airy.

TLDR; Liam is not as innocent as people I've seen portray him as, and Airy is neither good nor bad, he's just a guy who has done things we would perceive as bad.

This post went nowhere, I'm sure this is the common fandom perception and I've just been really unlucky with the people I've come across in the fandom, I just wanted to put out my personal interpretation of ONE out there.

[mimicry741]

I RAN OUT OF SPACE IN THE TAGS SO I'M JUST GONNA DUMP MY SCREAMING UP HERE BECAUSE I AM UNWELL I AM INSANE I AM FOAMING AND FROTHING AND GOING FERAL OVER THIS I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!!!!!!

I am free of my shackles I can take as many big chunks and commas as I want now I should not have been granted this power but I will use it only for adoration and appreciation!

“Spencer what time is it my love?” “You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” it is like,,, paragraph 2 and I am already making ungodly sounds babes you can't do this to me this early

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me“ ”Aw baby. You’re cheating on me?” “I’m afraid so” NOT THE I'M AFRAID SO!

'Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore.' DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO ME!? I AM SCALING THE WALLS OF MY ENCLOSURE AND GOING INSANE

“I annoy people.” “You don’t annoy me.” AOUGH.

'You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. "No,” he hums sadly.' OH MY FUCKING GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME I NEED TO GO HOME I AM UNWELL! the little gasp! I bet that man even *slumped!* deflated even!

'It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it.' Oh. My. *Lord.* this whole chunk. This whole entire piece right here. 'It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it.' I am in shambles. I am in pieces. This is a poem, this is a love song in itself, I am losing my marbles

“But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” "-I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” How am I supposed to read this and its adjacent parts and be able to only pick small parts out to highlight as my favorite?? How, when every sentence is so good? also people need to stop staring blankly at him! like damn bitch you never learned how to be polite?? at least pretend to be interested! I would pay real money to be able to listen to a Spencer Reid podcast that's just him meandering around for hours talking about whatever he comes up with and they're getting it for free??

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” “What jokes, babe?” “Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” oh the heartbreak! the way you just cracked open my ribs and punched me in the heart?? please remove yourself from my organs I need those!

“I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. You’re happy to. “Spencer, I like you like this,” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.” I am wailing. I am sobbing. I am unhinged, throwing myself onto the bed and kicking my feet. But you're *perfect*, he says, puzzled! as though he can't possibly fathom the idea that you're not! as though there cannot exist a world in his mind where that statement isn't true! I am so god damned NORMAL about EVERYTHING but ESPECIALLY YOU AND YOUR WORDS AND THE WAY YOU WEAVE THEM TOGETHER THE WAY YOU DO

'Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.' ALL THE TIME!? HE THINKS ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME! half sick with dehydration and grief oh my god......

'He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true.' presented without comment because I'm too busy going insane and losing my mind and crying I think

'Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it.' YEAH BUDDY GUESS WHAT! ITS NOT JUST LIKE!

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move.' THE WARNING! THE OPPORTUNITY TO MOVE AWAY! THE WAY HE DOESN'T!! I AM SICK! I AM UNWELL!

'You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.' Oh he deserves such softness, he deserves the world, he deserves someone to adore him.

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️