#i can do art and i can do writing but I'm not so sure about coding and stuff

[endearng]

Out of reach

Pairing: earlyseasons!Spencer Reid x hotchner!fem!reader Summary: You pull away from Spencer because of your jealousy. You go back to him after a few drinks in. WC: 9k A/N: fluff! pining! idiots/friends to lovers! alcohol consumption; spencer is a bit mean; reader doesn't communicate; hotch is a little older to have a daughter around spencer's age (do not come at me this is fiction). If I missed anything, please let me know! I had so much fun writing this one and it's now one of my favorites <3 masterlist

The jet was quiet as you and the BAU team made your way back from Los Angeles after successfully finding Lila Archer's stalker. The case had been a bit draining, after all, you've only been working with the FBI for a couple of months, and seeing dead bodies and all those other displays of violence was something you were still trying to get used to. Despite your sensitive nature, being Aaron Hotchner's daughter meant that you had mastered the art of a poker face through the years, not that it meant that your inner feelings were any less important. This is how you found yourself sitting all alone in a corner of the jet as everyone minded their own business. On any other day, you'd be sitting next to Dr. Spencer Reid, talking about whatever it was that could get your mind off the case you had just wrapped up. Spencer and you were friends, some would even say the best of friends, but you didn't mind about naming things — what mattered the most is that you got to be yourself around him and you didn't bother hiding behind the Hotchner glare, as he once put it.

Despite being unknown territory for you, after all, feelings and all that were protected by a deeply analytic and practical mind, you knew what you were feeling. Well, you were analyzing your reactions to check what had actually happened — and the thing is, you couldn't admit, not even to yourself, what that sinking feeling in your chest when you watched Spencer saying goodbye to Lila was. Amid your analysis, Spencer quietly approached you, silently motioning to the seat next to you. You nodded, shutting every single thought of him. Or at least, trying.

"Hi."

Hotch glare. "Hi, Reid."

Spencer felt nervous. He had never been on the receiving end of your… wrath before, so it was unknown territory and he didn't know how to act. His racing heart and clammy palms weren't helping him, either. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Listen, um, you... can... can we talk?" The stammering. Way to go, Spencer.

Glancing at him, ignoring the skip in your heartbeat, you nodded. "Yeah. Is everything alright?" A firm, secure tone. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You're a little distant... and—and I got a bit worried. Did... Did something happen?" He wanted to kick himself. What kind of person can't hold a serious conversation without stuttering like an idiot? Get a grip, Reid.

"No, Reid. Everything is alright. I'm just... thinking." You said.

Bullshit. You both knew that. Spencer, on the other hand, didn't know why it was bullshit. But he knew it was.

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning towards you, almost invading your personal space and he shut his eyes before delivering the next question, "Is... I haven't done anything to upset you? Right?"

You took a second to answer him, willing your voice to stay still and the knot in your throat to go away. "No. It's nothing you've done. It's just... it's on me." You gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes — that's when he knew something was definitely wrong.

He nodded, but he was still worried by your sudden change of behavior, especially towards him. It was like he was anyone else, again. And, God, he didn't want that. "What is it, then? You can talk to me, you know. We're best friends."

Best friends.

The words felt bitter on his tongue. The sound of them broke your heart all over again.

Best friends. "Right. Yeah. I know." You said, quietly, and it felt a little lifeless to him. He clenched his hand, fighting the urge to touch you, to ask you what was truly bothering you. "Thanks for offering."

Spencer felt conflicted. If he didn't say anything and didn't push you to speak, you would probably bury whatever it was that you were feeling and it would lead him into being even more worried about you. If he did, you would probably snap at him because of his undesired, bothersome insistence. "It's nothing." He said, defeatedly. "Can you just... Do you promise it's not me?"

Your heart ached and you smiled at him, a tiny, faint, barely there smile. He was so adorable, sometimes. "I'm just upset over something else. Don’t worry. You didn't do anything wrong." You finished, trying to convince yourself that he had not, indeed, done something wrong.

And he didn't. He didn't. You and Spencer, despite your proximity and sometimes incredibly ambiguous relationship, hadn't said anything about deeper feelings towards one another. You let yourself admire him, lovingly, from afar, and were happy with the snippets of attention you had from him when you two had some free time. You two were regulars in the coffee shop near his apartment and, by now, the local librarian, Mrs. Jones, could probably fake your signature from how often you two went there to borrow books. She would watch you two behind the bookshelves, whispering excitedly and curiously to each other about whatever suggestions you were getting from each other. As you missed Spencer's longing glances to read a summary, Mrs. Jones smiled to herself, both at how adorable you two were and how oblivious you were. In museums, you would sit down after some time walking around to his explanations of art and historical movements that impacted the expression of a certain age — you pretended to not know a few things, just so he could speak his heart away and not be interrupted by your own contributions.

You kept silent to make him happy.

Which was exactly what was happening now.

Spencer knew, for sure, that you were hiding something from him. But he also knew that he had no right to force it out. He fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, his heart still clenching. “But, but... you’d come to me if you needed help, right?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You knew you were wrong, omitting things from him. Just as the guilt was starting to weigh in your heart, Derek passed by you two with a magazine in his hands, throwing it at Spencer, exclaiming, "My man!"

You looked down, already knowing what it was. Spencer was a mess beside you: blushing, stuttering, avoiding your and Derek's gaze and throwing the magazine as far as he could, like it had burned him. Your reaction was a subtle twitch of your lips, not in amusement, but in need to disguise the pang in your heart. You both spent the rest of the flight sitting in silence, simply being in each other's orbit. You, guiltily. Spencer, worriedly.

Your reaction — or lack of — was staggering to Spencer. He thought you two were getting somewhere, despite your closed off nature and demeanor, he thought he was finally cracking you up. Everyday was torture, seeing you walk through the bullpen's glass doors with your professional clothes and your composed figure. It was torture to see you walk around so prettily and serious, holding his bare heart in your hands, and not even realizing it. By now, he lived and thrived on those rare opportunities you had to spend time together as he became more and more covered in you.

As the jet landed and Spencer walked out to talk to Derek, you pettily made sure to step on Lila Archer's face when leaving the jet in sheer frustration.

Back to the bullpen, you had gone to the restroom to splash some water on your face in order to calm your nerves and to tell yourself that it was only a matter of time until things got back to normal — until you got back to normal. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you wondered if Spencer could tell that there was something wrong with you, if you had let any of your feelings slip during your short conversation. The version of you that stared back was as impassible as you ever were. As you made your way to your desk in the dimly lit sea of desks, you caught Spencer and Derek talking, both having their backs to you.

Sighing, you just left the headquarters, not wanting to know what they were discussing, or rather, knowing what they were discussing, but unwilling to stay, even if it would quench your curiosity as to what Spencer had been thinking.

Maybe you didn't want to know the answer.

—

The days went by, cases coming left and right, flights making you almost dizzy — not that you would admit, but you were terrified of heights. Between those and your training, you barely had time to think about Spencer and the entire Lila occasion. You spent your days busy with work, studies and physical training in order to keep your mind away from that, but as you lay awake at night, the memories would come back to haunt you relentlessly to the point you had recurring dreams of them. Together, as you watched from the sidelines. You kept to yourself, slipping further and further away from Spencer.

Reid, on the other hand, felt your absence more than anyone. You took a rain check on all the invitations he made, even when he invited you to movie night, when he would definitely choose a Russian movie because you mentioned once how you liked how the language sounds. There wasn't any more donuts on his desk as he arrived in the morning (he would always joke that you and your father secretly lived in the headquarters and that someday he would see Haley bringing your groceries to the secret house), and there was no one for him to throw his paper airplanes, small flashcards with the Russian phonological alphabet, at. The change in your behavior was absurdly clear to everyone: you barely called or texted him anymore, you didn't look his way when someone told a joke to check if he thought it was funny... He was sulking, to say the least. Upon questioning you, you blamed your lack of free time and as he was going to question you further, you said in a teasing tone that not everyone was like him and that the FBI was actually making you go through all the training phases.

Finally, during the end of a particularly frustrating workday, he finally snapped, grabbing your arm before you could enter the elevator. It was only you and him in the otherwise empty hallway. "Ok. What's been going on? And don't," he said, closing his eyes, "don't dance around the subject. Don't say it's the Academy. Don't say you have to work. Don't. Please, be honest with me."

The exasperation in his eyes and in his tone almost broke the wall that hid your true feelings, but as you glanced at him, you figured you couldn't do it. Be honest? What for? To hear that you're nothing more than his best friend? Losing said friend was not an option, not to you, at least. But you also knew that you weren't treating him right, that keeping him out was not at all fair to him, that leaving him in the dark was as hurtful as it would be to lose him.

Breathing deeply, you answered with the same stoic expression you wore every single damn day. "I told you, Reid. People go through different, busier times in their lives." The lie tasted like acid.

Spencer clenched his teeth, frustration and confusion beginning to override some of his social anxieties. “That! That!” He asked through clenched teeth, his gaze intense.

"That what?" You asked, puzzled.

"You... you stopped calling me 'Spence'—not that you did it often, you did it more when we were all alone, and it... it sucks! It sucks because I don't know what happened or what I did that was so wrong to make you stop liking me!"

Come on, just say something! Get angry, get sad, get something!, his mind screamed.

"I never stopped liking you," you said, looking away from him. His words hit a particular spot that you were totally willing to discover later, but the mere thought that he knew that you liked him more than as a friend made you shiver.

"That's not the point! Or—or rather, it is! Because if you didn't stop liking me, why would you act like you did?" He asked, his tone rising a bit.

"Calm down."

"Calm down? I will not calm down!" He almost yelled. His eyes widened slightly, disbelief clear in his features and tone, not to mention the frustration. "Just. Please.” He said, closing his eyes, willing himself to tone it down, not that it worked... “Tell me what you're thinking, what happened to you! For once! Any normal person would react and stop acting like an emotionless robot!"

You gaped like a fish out of water, taking a small step back, his words digging a hole in your heart. Upon hearing his own words and noticing you distancing yourself from him, all the anger vanished from his body. The widened eyes were a sign of realization of what he had said to you. During the early months of friendship, you had confided in him that you struggled with portraying emotion like others normally did. Maybe it had something to do with growing up with a father who did it so perfectly when he was out of the house. When he wasn't actively playing the ‘dad’ part, Aaron Hotchner would wear an unreadable mask like it was his armor, his defense from the outer world, but as soon as he got home, he was back to his main role. You would watch him with his coworkers and mimic him perfectly to make him laugh. At some point, making fun of and imitating his demeanor had become some serious form of self-defense for you. Spencer, then, joked that you were making your way to the perfect job, but then he had gotten serious and told you that it wasn't a flaw. That it wasn't a problem that you kept deeply to yourself sometimes — that it was okay to be yourself around him. You had felt safe by his side since then.

But now, what did those words mean? Were they lies?

He breathed out your name, softly, "I... I... I'm sorry."

"Just drop it," you replied, pushing the elevator button. Your dismissive tone and your action of leaving made Spencer feel utterly desolate, like he had done the wrongest thing in the world and perhaps he had, but he just wanted you to let him in. For once, he wanted to have the answers from your lips, not spend any more time analyzing your every single action and words...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"You know, Spencer…" he looked up at you when he heard his name, as you held out an arm to hold the elevator doors open. As if thinking better than to say anything, you sighed and turned to enter the elevator, shaking your head with the most disappointed look he had ever seen on your face.

Spencer tried looking at you one last time before the elevator doors closed, and despite your face being as unreadable as it often was, he saw a flicker of sadness that stung his heart more than he liked to admit. If he hadn't done anything wrong before, now he had utterly fucked everything up.

—

The drive home, for Spencer, was a torture. He knew that he had to pay attention to the road ahead of him, to the other vehicles and drivers, but his mind kept drifting to the last glimpse of you back in the headquarters. Your empty eyes appeared behind his eyelids every time he pressed his eyes closed. He willed himself not to cry, to not blur his vision, taking his frustration out on the steering wheel, where his grip was so tight that his knuckles turned white. As he parked his car and looked up to one of his windows, he remembered you. Because of course he would remember you.

The sight was almost comical, to be honest. You, clad in one of the suits that fitted you so well, sitting on his windowsill, a cup of green tea in hands as you stared out the window, trying to analyze every single drop of rain before it reached somewhere outside your vision range. The funny thing was that you had no shoes on, instead, Spencer lent you a mismatched pair, not being one used to having people over, he didn't have a pair of spare slippers. Then, you sat there with a dinosaur-pattern sock on one foot and a striped-pattern sock on the other.

Spencer, sitting on his sofa and holding his own cup (he had let you choose your mug and stayed quiet when you pointed quietly at his favorite), smiled to himself. It was weirdly calming seeing you out of your character, doing something so... human.

"I can feel you staring, you know," you said. And your tone was almost... teasing?

"Right. Sorry." He said, looking down at his steaming tea.

"I'm not scolding you," you said, turning to look at his direction with a grin.

"Right, no—heh..." he replied, bashfully, cheeks reddening at the sight of your smile.

If only you knew... how many hours he would lay awake at night, as thoughts swirled in his head, how everything seemed to shut down at the thought of you. How he would fall asleep to the wish of being on the receiving end of one of your rare smiles, how he appreciated that you were always the first one he talked to upon his arrival at the headquarters. How... how he would do anything for you to look at him under a different light.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you giggled. Everything stopped.

Spencer.exe has stopped working.

"Heheh—I guess... It's not everyday you get to see a Hotchner so out of its—heheh—habitat." You quipped, looking at him with a smile on your face.

Suddenly, Spencer lost his voice. The connection between his brain and his tongue, which felt heavy, disappeared. Completely speechless, eyes slightly wide at the sound of your laughter. It made you laugh a bit more, but when his stare and open mouth got too much to handle, you looked down at your feet, wiggling your toes to distract yourself from the intensity of his gaze full of awe. Then, Spencer got back to his senses, smiling at you as you missed it to look away in embarrassment.

Spencer blinked away the tears and left his car, entering his apartment. As he took off his shoes, he let the tears fall at the sight of your windowsill.

—

Meanwhile, you were getting wasted at some bar. Not just any bar, but the one you usually went with Spencer when you were feeling daring and wanted a change from the places where you both used to go to. You were a bit of a lightweight, so a couple of drinks were enough for you to start playing trivia with Spencer and let your gaze linger for longer, basking in the sight of him so carefree, having fun with you.

Upon your arrival, the bartender that usually took care of your orders, MJ, greeted you with a smile. When she saw no one was joining you, she frowned. "Good evening, Hotch. Where's loverboy?"

You sent her a look, but since you were letting your guard down, after all, there were no acquaintances or friends around, you didn't know if the look came out as a glare or if you looked like a kicked puppy. She snorted. "Gee... That bad, huh?" She asked, and you didn't answer again, though you muttered a soft thanks, MJ when she gave you your go-to drink.

And it turned into two drinks. Three. Four...

(MJ was now giving you alcohol-free drinks, too worried for your well-being. You and Spencer started to grow on her as you two kept coming back.)

You rested your chin on your left hand while you traced patterns with your right index finger on the counter. MJ was eyeing you suspiciously, drying a few glasses with a washcloth. "He kissed another girl." You admitted, quietly.

"No way." She gasped.

"Way."

"But... I thought you two were a thing." MJ was baffled, placing down the objects she was holding in sheer shock. "I always thought you two were like... together for years."

"We were a thing.... I think, at least... I don't know, MJ." You sighed, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear. Looking up at her, hazy eyes taking in her focused expression, you sniffled, "we were on this case and then he met a girl and then the next moment the two of them were making out in a pool. In a freaking pool."

She tsked, anger flashing in her eyes, "I swear, those nerdy guys are the worst."

"Yeah..." You muttered, fiddling with your straw. "Can I have another one?"

She pursed her lips, but she relented. Then, as she handed you the liquid, a guy sat next to you. Did he look like Spencer or were you already hallucinating?

"Hi. I'm Dave. Can I buy you a drink...?" He asked with a small smile, wanting to know your name.

No, not Spencer. It’s cool.

"Hi, I..."

MJ cut you off. "Hey, Dave, I think she had too much to drink already."

They exchanged looks and it took you a minute to feel offended by her interruption and knowing you were perfectly capable of speaking for yourself, but realizing you would probably have to entertain a stranger, you felt grateful for it.

Dave left with a sour smile. "Thanks." You muttered, again, looking at MJ.

"Do you need me to get you a cab, honey?"

"That would be great." You said, placing money bills to pay for your drinks and the tip.

MJ looked around to spot someone to keep an eye on the bar as she led you out of the place, hand never leaving your shoulder. As she called a cab, she made you stand on only one leg to make sure you weren't gonna need her to go with you. You scoffed, but obeyed her all the same, with a low snicker. As you two waited for the cab driver, a woman who MJ trusted with her life (and her favorite regulars), you tried to make conversation to make up for embarrassing yourself by talking about Spencer with someone. How pathetic.

"So, what does MJ stand for?"

She chuckled, shaking her head at you and at your dazed eyes. "That's classified information."

"I'm familiar with that."

The cab driver, Paula, arrived. She greeted the both of you with a smile and a cheerful good evening! As you entered the vehicle, you rolled the windows down and pressed the subject further, "Seriously, is it Mary Jane or were your parents more creative?"

She rolled your eyes at you, shaking her head. "It's Mary Jane. MJ because who would take me seriously?"

You smiled. "I like the shoes!"

Paula started driving slowly, just to let other drivers drop their own passengers, as you were lost in your own little world, serious expression taking over your face again, not wavering, as you delved deeper into the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your head. Paula, looking at you through the rear-view mirror, asked, "Is everything okay, honey?"

You buckled your seatbelt. "Yes, yes. Just... keep driving slowly, please."

"Where to?"

Only then you realized you never gave her an address. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you gave her Spencer's, telling her you were going home.

—

An unknown number had sent Spencer a couple of messages.

[8:32 p.m.] Lovergirl is here, drinking all by herself.

[8:32 p.m.] Water, but still. I'm not having her passed out without you here.

[8:40 p.m.] Sent her home, people were starting to approach.

Throughout the time he had spent with you at the bar, the two of you exchanged numbers with MJ in case she needed your help — you know, being FBI agents and whatnot. But Spencer didn't need to see her name to know it was her and she was talking about you; 'lovergirl' and 'passed out without you here' gave him clue enough. His stomach tied in knots when he read that people were starting to approach her, the nagging feeling that the image conjured in his mind was making him feel almost sick, then, it hit him like a truck: Lila Archer.

Their… case? was as fleeting as a careless glance. To be honest, Spencer accepted her advances to spite you for having such power over him, even if unknowingly so. The young agent felt like you were so out of his league, so out of reach — you were all that pile of confidence and stoicism and pure lusciousness and everything to him. And he was a young guy who truly had barely been kissed so far. How could he approach you, charm his way into your heart, especially when you barely bared it? With Lila, it was... nice. Easy, even. It was nice being wanted, to be able to read her intentions and desires like a children's book. With you, it was a tantalizing challenge, one he was, for the first time, struggling with. It was not like having a high-school crush, not like pining over the untouchable girls that would catch his interest as he grew older. No. This was something new. You had hit him deeper than ever or anyone before.

Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he gave room to the anxious thoughts regarding your father as well. Would it affect his relationship with his superior? Would it affect your relationship with your father? Spencer felt dizzy just by the mere thought of ruining something uniquely yours. No, he couldn't impose himself on your life like that. It was mean, it was wrong, it was immoral.

To want, to desire, is to be selfish.

It was a bold assumption. To think you were jealous of him. Nevertheless, the signs were all there, had been all along. He was just dumb and scared enough of making assumptions.

A barely there, faint sound of a knock on his door made Spencer fly out of his bed, dropping his phone on the bedroom floor, but he didn't pick it up. He had a suspicion as to who could be knocking on his door, but he was too scared of assuming anything. Again. Opening the door, he saw you, breathing a bit heavily. The stairs, he supposed. You always complained about them. Once you exchanged looks, Spencer’s surprised one and your earnest one, you asked, "Do you really think I'm a robot?"

Shit. He could feel his heart breaking in a million little pieces. The insecure edge of your voice and words made him squeeze his eyes shut; in his mind, he was kicking himself simultaneously as he sank down to his knees, on your feet, begging you to forgive and forget his dumb, stupid, frustrated, unrealistic words.

"No," he breathed out, wincing, almost as if he was in physical pain. "I—I didn't mean to talk about you like that. I was..."

"Frustrated?"

He nodded, silently, eyes never leaving your face. Your speech, albeit way out of the ordinary that he was used to, was flawless. If not by the dilated pupils and the faint smell of alcohol, not to mention MJ's texts, he would dare to say you were perfectly sober. "I was, too." You admitted, looking down.

Spencer made way for you to enter his apartment. He watched as you kicked your shoes off. The sight, that had become as common as the act of breathing, made his way flutter. You intended on staying. Or so he hoped. You walked further into the place, noticing everything as it ever was, as if you hadn't been to his apartment for some time now. "You must be thinking why I'm here," you said, moving to sit on the couch and mentioning him to sit on the small coffee table in front of you, as if you owned the place, and not him.

Perhaps it was true.

He closed the door once you were inside, hesitating for a moment before joining you. He kept noticing things about you; the way you were walking, the way you could barely look him in the eye, the way you looked… “How much did you have to drink?” He asked, quietly.

"Not much. You know I don't usually drink because I can’t hold my drinks. And I'm sure MJ was giving me plain water at some point." You said, looking up at him. Well, at least, your speech flawlessly delivered, even though you were moving a bit more… disoriented than usual. She's totally a Hotchner.

"I... I am," he started, sitting in front of you carefully. "I... I'm sorry. It's just... You've never been so distant. I guess that I was mean to you to elicit some reaction."

Your analytical gaze softened upon his confession. You needed to give him some break, be a little easy on him. Well, easier than you were being as of lately. Nodding lightly, you added, "I'm here to apologize, too. I know... I know that I pushed you away and I made you think that... that that was your fault. It's not."

He froze. No, he wouldn't have you taking the blame for how his actions caused you to react. He looked up at you, reaching out a hand to touch your intertwined ones, "It is."

"Hear me out. Please." You said, lowly, not breaking eye contact. This was so hard, and you had never felt so afraid before. How ironic — to be afraid of being brave. "I... I guess that by now you know why I pulled away."

"I do," he admitted, nervously. "It took me some time, but I... I think I figured you out."

You looked down, embarrassed. It was overwhelming for him to see you portray such different and so many emotions all at once. To you, it was as agonizing as it was freeing. "Well, yes. So... It, um, it wasn't fair. We... we are not something. We are not a thing."

His heart, doing all the thinking and feeling, nearly stopped. As if it wasn't enough, you kept on going, "I'm sorry, I truly am, for how I behaved and how I made you feel by being absent. It's... it's not my place. You have your own life, Reid. I can't be upset with you for making decisions. You're a grown man..." you sighed, glancing at every direction but at him. "I know that I'm wrong, okay? And I know that I shouldn't have pushed you away, nor should I have kept my feelings from you."

Spencer drew in a long breath. He didn't know what to say, but you couldn't be more wrong. All at once, he wanted to scream, but he didn't know what ro say; he wanted to run, but he didn't want to leave you alone — not for a second. He didn't ever want you out of his sight; he didn't want to be the one you were apologizing to, hell, he wanted everything to be okay between them, but it was nice that she was talking to him, finally.

"I..."

Every time he thought he could say something, words failed him. Then, you took it as another opportunity to word-vomit everything you've been feeling. "I was... I was jealous. I didn't like to see that. I didn't like that it happened. But I also know that I have no right to be upset with you because you're single and she's attractive and you're both consenting and willing to do whatever you please, so..." You shrugged as if speaking those words aloud didn't stab new holes in your heart.

Spencer looked at you, totally speechless. It made you snicker. And speak further. Shut up, you idiot. Please, please, please! "And, ah—hahahah—I guess I am, indeed, a bit of a robot because it took me a bit of alcohol to pluck up the courage to come here and totally—hic—destroy our friendship by telling you I love you so much; that I'd hate to see you with anyone other than me. It happened and I hated it. It still stings."

Spencer's heart threatened to fail once again. Your giggles, your words, your confession... His mind completely short-circuited. She loved him. She loved him? She loved him?!?!???!!! That’s what she’d just said, apparently. Okay, calm down. And she’d been jealous. She didn’t like him kissing another woman, because she fucking loved him. Say something, you dumb idiot, his brain shrieked. Say something!

You parted your lips to say something else, but apparently decided against it. Another beat of silence of Spencer staring dumbly at you. "I'm going," you blurted out, standing up.

Spencer, at breakneck speed, stood up as well to stop you from walking away, placing his hands tentatively on your shoulders. Your bodies were now apart by mere inches. "No." His voice was so small and pained that you sat back down.

Despite your apparent willingness, your next words told him about your turmoil. "Why would I stay, Spencer? I've been pouring my heart out to you and you haven't said a thing."

Looking at you, so bare and so vulnerable, Spencer suddenly had flashbacks from when he had lashed out on you earlier and simultaneously fought the feelings that were bubbling inside of him upon your confession. Couldn't you see the sheer shock on his face? Couldn't you see that he was battling against every single bit of self restraint not to pull you into his embrace and make you believe him when he would tell you that you were the only woman for him?

Sure, he had dreamed of you saying those words to him countless times as time went by and you two got closer. Shit, he literally dreamed of it. Of you. Speaking sweet nothings to him... He broke out of his daze, realizing that he was deadly silent, "Don't go..."

"Then say something. I'm here. Not as Hotch's daughter, not as your coworker, not as a part of the team you work with. I'm here as the woman in whose heart you've grown over the last few months. I'm terrified of your answer and you keep depriving me of it." There was a hint of annoyance and hurry on your voice, and he could understand you, he truly could. He just didn't... he lost his voice when he looked at you.

Saying your name softly, he beginned, “I said stupid, untrue things, and I’m sorry. I’m a jerk, and I know that I’m a jerk and—" You quirked your eyebrow and he took a deep breath, trying to cut his rant. "Just... don't sit there and think that I have nothing to say."

"Have you said it?" You pressed it, quirking an eyebrow.

"No." He admitted, widening his eyes a bit as he realized his mistake.

At the same time, you shot, "Not saying something is also an answer for me—"

"—but not for the reasons you're thinking! Do you know how hard it is for me right now?" Spencer was starting to sound very desperate and pathetic, not to mention the fact that he wasn't answering your questions.

Deep breaths (from both ends).

"Look, Reid..." He glared at you upon hearing his last name. "I think I should go home. You and I clearly need some space—"

"What we need to do is talk."

You sighed. "Then why won't you give me an answer?"

Silence.

"You won't even remember this in the morning."

At that, you deemed yourself utterly defeated. This was useless. "I'm sorry I came over. I'm... I'll just go, okay? Please, don't be upset about tonight. I apologize in advance."

The sight of her, once more shying away from him and turning to escape from him, was making Spencer frustrated, with himself, to no end. His heart clenched at your apology, to which he shook his head vehemently. The thing is, he wanted to get ready to answer you, properly, just like he always had some trick up his sleeve or some funny or curious fact to blurt during the most random moments. Spencer was good at speaking, but only when the speech was already ingrained into his mind, something he had read or rehearsed before. Plus, he was sure your state of drunkenness would stop you from remembering that moment.

Spencer dashed to his door, barely stopping you. No, no, no, no, no... She can't leave. This might be my only chance. "You're not going anywhere."

"Excuse me?"

"Stay with me. I don't want you to go." He said, softly, slowly, looking straight into your eyes. It made you dizzy. Either that or the alcohol.

"No?"

"Y-you're drunk and I... I don't think it's safe for you to go by yourself and it's late and... and..." he trailed off, nervously, desperate to get you to stay.

"I'm not drunk."

"You're not fooling me. You might be as concise as ever but you're not sober. Stay."

"Promise... promise you won't be upset with me?"

His heart dropped, heavy with guilt. And with love for you. "I promise."

Spencer silently led you back to the couch, gingerly holding your hand. He felt dazzled, speechless, desperate, frustrated, all at once. But your touch was starting to ground him back to reality, where you were real, having confessed your feelings for him, and he was a mess, not even being able to say anything back. Without much thinking, he said, "You should stay over tonight."

"Okay... I'll take the couch."

"As if I'd let you sleep on the couch."

"It's okay."

"Stop... stop acting like I sent you away."

You kept silent. You felt like he did. Through his touch, he hoped to get you to understand that his feelings were a mess, but they existed, and they were real, and they were yours. "That'd be alright with me, you know. Taking your couch. I think I would sleep better on your floor than I would ever in my bed. To... to say that anything is better if you're somehow involved."

His stomach made a flip-flop. Brain short-circuited again. You yawned, as if you had just made an annoying comment on the weather.

"Are you tired?" He managed to mutter.

"I am."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'? I'm not letting you on the couch. Come on."

"I can't go to your bed with outside clothes." You booped his nose.

He chuckled lowly, confused a little by your words. "Are you seriously worried about clothes?"

"You don't like germs. That's why I removed my shoes."

Okay, he thought, if I manage to put her to sleep without having a heart attack, I definitely don't need a cardiologist's appointment because it would mean I'm that strong.

"Y-you... remembered?" Damn it, Reid. Stop stuttering.

You sighed, tiredly, and rested your head on his shoulder, looking down at his hand holding yours. "I remember everything about you."

"You do?"

"Yes. Fortunately or unfortunately."

Spencer was too stunned to speak. Too stunned, too dumb, too afraid. Damn it. Damn it. He couldn't stop cursing internally. He forced himself to pull you towards his bedroom and even though he still sensed some uncertainty, he kept going. Reaching for a pair of sweatpants and a big t-shirt, he gave those to you. "You can change into these," as he left the room to make you more comfortable.

"Wait!" You almost shrieked.

"What happened?" He prompted, worriedly, reaching a hand out to touch your arm.

"I don't want you to go."

He bit back a sigh. "I'll be just outside."

"Just... stay here?"

"I can't—" he interrupted himself, just turning around so his back was to you instead. At that, he looked up at his ceiling and prayed to any deity to let him survive that night.

He could hear the sounds of your movements. The zipper being undone, the soft ruffling of the fabric as you tugged your shirt up your head... He was imagining your exposed skin, every perfect inch, how would you look without all those clothes that suited you so nicely, how would it be to touch you, to run his fingertips all over your heated skin, how would it be to kiss every freckle on your body, to—"Done."

Turning around, the sight was adorable, which made him somewhat guilty of his early impure thoughts. "I feel like Alice when she shrunk into a tiny human."

He couldn't fight the smile at your words. He led you to his bed, where you laid on your back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. Spencer left you briefly to get you a glass of water and some painkillers to leave by the bedside table. You thanked him with a silent glance. As he turned to leave, once again, you said in a small voice, almost phrasing it like a question, too afraid of the answer. "Stay."

"I'll take the couch."

"You asked me to stay, thrice, I guess… And I did. I asked you once and you did. I still have a few requests left. I'm keeping tabs."

He relented, laying next to you and placing a pillow between you two. You breathed out a chuckle and he shook his head, clearly knowing where your mind had gone to. He placed his hand on top of the pillow, offering his comfort, and then you tentatively placed yours on top of his. He grinned to himself.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around what had happened that night. He knew his words — or lack of — could be read the wrong way and you possibly did, but he also hoped that his actions were speaking louder. Just as he was getting lost in thought again, he heard your voice once more.

"Spence?"

That damned nickname.

"Thanks for, um, being so respectful. Not that I don't think you'd be. But, um, as you've said, I'm drunk. And I told you I love you. And you're simply holding my hand." He gulped. He was keeping count, too, of how many times you said you loved him. Twice, so far, but he wanted so much more, endlessly. He wanted to lose track. "I guess... that makes me love you even more," you finished, crushing his heart between your palms, voice thick with sleep.

When he finally turned his head to look at you, your eyes were closed and you looked peaceful, drifting off to sleep. Then, when he was sure you were actually asleep, he stood up from his bed, grabbing a pillow and a spare blanket to lay on the floor.

"I'll gladly sleep on my floor if it means I get to have you around, too..."

—

Spencer didn't get any sleep.

He tossed and turned on the floor all night long, both because his carpet was not the most comfortable spot to sleep on, but also and mostly because there was no way in hell his mind stopped working. All through the night, Spencer fought the urge to shake you awake to ask if this was real, if you really loved him, if the words that slipped through your lips were in fact your feelings towards him. Despite his curiosity and eagerness, he let you sleep, figuring that he had already put you through too much already. As you slept, a movie played on his mind: your moments together, your confession of love, and overthinking the words we are not something. We are not a thing. He feared that you would wake up and realize how badly he had screwed up and decide not to want him anymore. Yes, he was that anxious.

You, on the other hand, even though confused by his lack of answer to your heart’s words, felt lighter than ever by speaking out your truth (the booze did help you a lot, though). Being as analytical as you were had its perks. One of them is that you never let yourself suffer too much for too long, too attached to reality to care much about the rest. So what if he rejected you? Life goes on — and that’s what you thought with every other loser that you caught yourself thinking too much of. Spencer, though… Who were you kidding? Spencer was Spencer. And that meant the world… It wasn’t so bad, if he actually rejected you… you’d only have to face him every day, until the rest of your lives, doomed to work together, cursed to think and rethink all over again small, fleeting moments such as an exchange of longing glances.

(You felt strangely calm due to your touch with reality. Maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for the best based on his care with and for you. But boy, were you ready to give him a piece of your mind.)

As your eyes fluttered open, you stretched your limbs on an unfamiliar bed with too much space. Upon your confusion, the memories came back with full force. You jolted, sitting down, searching for him — and, to be honest, not wanting to find him. The house was deadly silent, so you tried to trick yourself that you were sure he wasn't there. You dashed to the bathroom, taking a quick shower to get rid of the shame and the faint reek of alcohol. As you moved around his stuff, you couldn't help but think that you were so familiar with his things that it was almost like you belonged there. Sigh. It turns out that hiding emotions is easier than feeling them, especially their extremes.

As soon as you finished putting on your own clothes, you stopped dead in your tracks as you heard footsteps outside the bedroom. You froze, not knowing what to say. Or do.

Spencer entered the room, holding a tray meticulously organized with some food on it. “Morning. I, um, made you breakfast.” Because of course he would make you fucking breakfast. 

“Morning,” you replied awkwardly and hoarsely. Maybe you cried a little bit, who knows… “Thanks, you didn't have to.”

“I did.”

You take your time to get a good look at him. He had bags under his eyes that appeared to be tired. The sight made your heart drop. “I'm sorry…”

“Don't be.”

“But I was wrong.”

“So was I.”

“But—”

“Last night you said some things. Do you, uh, do you remember what you told me?” You nodded, unable to speak. “Do you remember what you told me?” He repeated, trying to get a verbal answer from you.

“Yes, Spencer. I remember.”

“Can you listen to what I have to say now?”

You nodded, weakly.

“I didn't say anything because… because everything had gone in the most opposite direction they could've gone.” He said, approaching you calmly. “I was up the entire night, hoping to find the right words to tell you that would make you believe me after I… was stupid. I… First, I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I know you said that we're nothing, that we weren't something, that we didn't have anything… but… but you're everything to me.” At that, your eyes finally met his. The intensity of your gaze made him shudder, but he kept going. “All the time we've spent together was nothing compared to what I want to have with you… and… and… God! Do you have any idea of the torture I was put through with you? Constantly thinking of what we could be, what we should be, too scared of your reaction or that—that—that Hotch decided to chop off my neck because he found out that I was crushing on his only daughter!”

At the mention of your dad, you burst out laughing. Seriously? That was such a cliché! “Hey! I'm serious!”

“I'm sorry…” You bit your bottom lip, fighting the urge to laugh at him some more. He was adorable.

“As I was saying,” he continued, trying to sound annoyed, but a hint of a smile threatened to break on his lips, and he didn't pull away when you approached him nor he did when you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest, looking up at him, adoringly. He looked down, meeting your gaze,  “I… I love you. I love you too. God, it just feels so good to say that!”

You giggled, again. God, he could never get used to that sound.

“And I’m sorry for being so mean to you when I was frustrated. I should have been more patient and my unthoughtful words hurt you.” You kept silent, remembering his words. “I—I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing if you’ll have me.” He added, intimidated by your gaze.

Silence. “Well, I accept your apologies. I was unfair to you as well. And you know where I stand when it comes to you. My feelings, I mean.”

“I do… But…”

“But?”

“I'd like to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you love me?”

“I don't know. Do I, really?” You joked.

He blushed furiously, ready to stutter himself out of that situation. “No, I mean… you—you said that—that you remembered what you said last night and… so… putting two and two…”

Another giggle interrupted him. You traced his jawline, leaning up to kiss his right cheek. “I really, really love you.” A kiss to his left cheek. He chuckled. “I love you.” A kiss on the tip of his nose, to which he snorted, totally lovestruck. “So much.” A lingering, tender kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes, already anticipating the next spot you would press your soft lips to.

As you made your way to finally kiss his lips, you decided to tease him and let him wait for a bit longer. Spencer groaned in protest and you chuckled a bit, finally deciding that it was enough. Pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, making him sigh, you were thrilling on making him more and more eager. His grip on you tightened just slightly as he let out a shaky breath. You wanted to laugh, but instead, you poked fun at him. “Now you know what it's like to be teased.”

“I love you. Oh, Jesus… You're driving me insane. You're here… And you, you're you…”

You grinned, looking up at him, finally, finally pressing your lips to his. As you let out a small sigh, his breath hitched, both of you utterly drowning in relief and satisfaction. You pulled back a bit, grinning, going back to kissing him. Spencer's hands found your jawline, sliding back to tangle in your hair as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. Parting your lips slightly, you granted him full access to kiss you properly, and he moaned at the taste of you, gripping your hair rougher than before. You groaned softly, and he proudly heard and swallowed all your small sounds.

The ring of a phone broke the urgent atmosphere that was building between you two. Spencer ignored it, letting it ring until you pulled away, gasping for air. As you did, the noise stopped and you met his lost eyes, totally dumbstruck, and you laughed because you probably looked the same way. He gave you a charming, lopsided grin, too stupid, too hypnotized to say anything.

The phone began ringing again. “Son of a…!” he cursed, picking up the phone. “Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and unless this is an absolute emergency, I'm kinda busy—”

“Reid.” Aaron Hotchner's firm voice hit Spencer like a bucket of cold water. Widening his eyes, he gulped.

“Yes… sir?” You smiled at that. Of course you knew who he was talking to.

“We have a new case.” Hotch announced.

“Oh… okay… I, um, I—I'll be there in 20.”

Silence.

“Is everything okay, Reid?” Hotchner could read anyone, Spencer was now sure of that. Even through the goddamned phone.

“Wh—yeah, yeah… Everything's… totally f—fine.” He cursed under his breath as you gripped his vest, trying not to laugh.

“Do you know where she is?” Hotch inquired after another moment of quietness. 

“Who?” He squeaked. You chuckled silently.

“My daughter.” Of course it was his daughter.

Playing dumb is not a good look on you, you mouthed.

“N—no… I haven't… heard from her.”

“Sure.” Hotch said, skeptically. Spencer could feel the sweat on his forehead. After a moment, your father finished the call with an unreadable “We need to talk.”

Once the phone call ended, you burst out laughing at Spencer's reaction. “Not funny.” He protested, a frown on his face and a soft smile betraying his faux frustration.

“Come on, it is funny.”

He glared at you. “What do you think he wants to talk about?”

“I don't know. Men talk. I wouldn't want to get involved.” You said, grinning, pulling him by his vest.

He squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of having you so close. “Do you think he knows?”

“Of course he knows.”

“How are you so collected?”

“Because I'm not the one he's going to scare to death, apparently.”

“He said ‘we’ need to talk. Emphasizing ‘we’. If he knows you’re here, then it probably—” you cut him off with a kiss.

“Well, then… Are you ready to face your biggest fear? The frightening Aaron Hotchner?”

Glancing at you adoringly, he chuckled. “I’d face him and whoever, whatever, a thousand times, if it meant that I could get you in the end.”

—

A couple days after the case, you and Spencer meet again, in your apartment. Sitting down on the couch, you ask him, amusedly, “Do you think he noticed?” 

“Totally. I could barely look him in the eye for the first moments,” He said with a fond smile, hiding from you the fact that he had awkwardly and bravely spoken to your dad about your relationship. You laughed, placing your legs on the top of his legs. “I guess we should thank Lila, after all.” He joked, and you laughed out loud. 

Leaning him closer to him, grabbing his chin and looking deep into his eyes, you muttered, “Don’t ever say her name again, Spence.”

Your wish was always his command. It would always be.

[meraki-sunset]

so your crow strider au gave me inspiration for my own au, but i've built up the idea in my brain so much that now im scared to try to put it to paper (oops) did you ever deal with this while making crow strider? (and if you did, how you got over it would be much appreciated thanks fhdjks) also your art is cool :]

Hi, sure, i encountered a few blocks when writing CSAU and other projects. I think my method comes down to a couple rules

You need to know how the story ends from the start, so everything in the story leads to the end. Things can change about the contents of the story as you write it and you change your mind about the events that will transpire in it, but you need an end goal you can build your story towards. Most importantly, this is what allows you to add foreshadowing for said ending and structure the narrative in a clear direction. Otherwise, you might come up with a cool ending too late and regret some choices from past chapters that now don’t help this new ending you want

On that same note (and i’ll proceed to copy and paste from an old post) You need to have a Word document with a rough timeline of the events from start to finish. You need to know how it ends from the beginning and how they get there. It can be really, really vague, but it has to be there. It can go like

. They start the game, the trolls bother them.

.both games go to hell

.scratch

.trip, develop relationships

.new set of kids/teen drama

.old kids they get there

.to hell again

.John retcons everything

.new timeline

.they win

And that's homestuck simplified, Those are your Acts. With them, you will know where you're going and if you need to change something earlier. Everything will be constantly up to change of course, but you will be going from point A to point Z more easily.

From there, you go to every point in that list and create a Word document for all of them. I have them in different folders to have every act separated and in order.

A folder for each Doc for every Act, Numbered, and in each one make more lists like that one telling what happens, for example

WordDoc1 - ACT 1 "They start the game, the trolls bother them"=

.John needs to get his game

.introduce Rose

.introduce the trolls on pester chats

. John gets the game

.introduce Dave

.etc

And those are your chapters. Now you can know the extent of what you want to do and if it makes any sense.

I addition to that, every Folder can contain not only the Word document for the Act but also relevant texts and art that are connected to the Act, so evey folder is all about that specific act and any inspiration for it.

Another piece of advice I can give you is to hint at anything important. That's a rule of comedy; actually, the comedian usually closes the show with something related to the first things they said.

That works for everything, and makes people go, "Oh the thing! The meaningless thing they said earlier, it was a clue all along!"

Interconnect it like a web, and that web will stop the story from falling

Homestuck is so ridiculously interconnected that you lose track of the stuff and objects that repeat that have no way to be where they got to be, songs and people and events that are too similar to not be connected but nobody addresses, things like that make it feel like you're dealing with a universe and not just a line of events.

3. Yet another thing, it's something I'm still trying to assimilate, and is that less is more, sometimes things don't need to be said, specialy not bluntly, and an expression, a gesture, a flinch can summarize them. Backgrounds can be reduced, and ideas can be conveyed.

one example is, In homestuck, it's never said that Dave was raised with lack of food. He never sais it, but it's shown in how happy he was to find a warm bottle of juice in his closet, how there is only weapons on the kitchen and no sign of food, how he later sais he never learned what the purpose of a fridge was until he saw it on tv. If someone is lacking something, don't have them say, "i grew up without X thing" show what filled that space in the absence of X thing.

Instead of some character saying, "My dad was never there for christmas" have them say how they thrited for presents at the local goodwill, payed with their lawn mowing money and put the presents under the tree themselves for their siblings and mom.

4. Something that I always have in mind when writing the dialogs and sketching the scenes, is

"I have an idea; what's the easiest way for someone to get the idea, to get the feelings i want to transmit from the idea?" I made the art something I could handle drawing hundreds of times, simplified the coloring, the aspect symbols, the way I draw backgrounds, the way I write dialogs, etc.

That will save you time and work and could prevent you from getting stuck with a project too big to handle

5. This is the most important one: The first draft’s only purpose is to exist.

Writing is like playing darts sometimes; you only get closer to hitting the center by missing it and learning what not to do. That’s an actual rule on animation and a motto on the Disney office. “Get it wrong as quick as you can,” because when you learn what you’re doing wrong is when you start learnign what doing it right means.

If it helps, title your first draft “the dumb version,” because that’s what it is—the version to get the idea out of your head, and then you built over it.

On the same note, once you write "the dumb version" don’t correct it. Rewrite it. It’s annoying, I know, i know, but fixing and fixing a text only carries the mistakes from the first draft, and everything looks kind of disconnected, because it ends up being a Frankenstein text of all the versions of the story mixed together.

This also applies to art; that’s how I handle both writing and drawing; if it’s not working, hold onto the core idea, new page, restart.

Rewriting it puts it in perspective; it feels like a text of its own, with a clear intent in mind.

I think that’s all I have. Making a story is mostly about managing your strengths and weaknesses, organizing and not being scared of it not being perfect.

Hope this helps.

[modmad]

hey so, was SKIP! ever on American TV? and if so, how?????? cuz I am 100% sure that I watched SKIP! on the TV when I was younger, like, an actual child kinda younger. it was like PBS or something showing student animations I guess?? and I was so enamored with it, I was desperately upset that I had no idea where I'd be able to find it again because I didn't know what it was called. and then later on I just happened to read tpoh (cuz i love webcomics) and there it was. right beside everything else. do you have any idea how crazy that is. It was like finding a long lost friend! Anyway that was years ago but I just wanted you to know that, since I don't think I've told you before but I've been following you for years.

Also your doodleduck comics are REALLY GOOD and are my single entry point into that kind of older-ducktales stuff. (also this is kind of random but I think your comic about gladstone and white guilt is one of the better works of art I've seen on that subject matter which I find very impressive)(source: I am black lol) OH AND HOW COULD I FORGET!! The princess and the jester is, like, phenomenally well made both visually and with its writing. It literally gives me CHILLS to read it. Frankly everything you make is so gorgeous, I kind of want to be like you. In the back of my mind when I'm like "what kind of artist do I wanna be?" your little checkered blog icon always pops up eventually haha. ok bye!!

;A;

damn this whole message means a lot to me, and yes! for a short time VFS was airing on a tv channel, I forget which but that was very cool and they gave me 500 dollar bucks which was a huge windfall for impoverished student mod :D :D :D it means so much to me that you like my work and found me again, and that particular duck comic was so scary for me to make but I've had so many wonderfully supportive messages from people like yourself that I'm really glad I stuck to my guns and listened to it. that was another 'seized from beyond by something bigger than myself' story moment... I'm glad it paid off and I hope I can continue to make things that scare me shitless but do some good in the world.

[pansylair]

Hi :) do you happen to have any recommendations for documentaries/videos on Neanderthals, or other ancient peoples or ancient art?

(I rly love your work, all the warmth and roots deep in nature)

Hi! Thank you so much!! Unfortunately I don't have any documentary suggestions (via mainstream tv/streaming) as I've yet to find (or remember) one about Neanderthals (and other species) I've enjoyed from past to present. They also often seem to fall into an us vs them narrative which I find exhausting. The latest stuff like Secrets of the Neanderthals had a bold start stating they lived during the Neolithic which was uh???? No?? Personally I found it shallow and don't recall learning anything new. Then Unknown: Cave of Bones regarding Homo naledi sadly jumped to huge claims with no peer reviews (that were all negative to said claims) present. I'm sure people here should have good art documentary suggestions and such, I can't recall any off the top of my head right now. However! Some youtube channels that I love are Stefan Milo, Gutsick Gibbon, History of Humankind, and North 02. In terms of books, not much on me but I own a physical copy of Kindred - Neanderthal Life, Love, Death and Art by Dr. Rebecca Wragg Sykes and it was a wonderful read with tons of information and passion, very moving. Another is Prehistoric Art - the symbolic journey of humankind by Randall White. Lots of writing accompanying the photos but I find it very insightful, and certainly his mentioning that art history is a product of western society and how it impacts non-western cultures and artwork. I also very much appreciate him pointing out the term "venus" in reference to the carved figurines has a racist history connected to Saartjie Bartmann and other South African women and calls to abandon the term, using "statuette" instead. And here's one of my fave pieces from the book! A spear thrower from the Magdalenian culture of Western Europe in what is now France featuring two ibex. :)

Anywho, anyone reading this can certainly feel free to chime in with more recommendations for videos and books!

[kithtaehyung]

— ryen’s tumblr wrapped 2024 

i didn’t even know these were a thing but i did notice that tumblr wasn’t doing those wrapped posts, so thank you to @yoonia and @jjungkookislife for tagging me so i could join! fashionably late but i’m slidin’ through the door :D 

before we get to the stats, i just wanted to give a huge thank you to everyone that’s been here with me in 2024. many things happened, both on and off this blog, so to know who’s a real one and either stuck with me or trusted me makes me happy and at peace. there’s a lot i haven’t said, but just know that i love you all and am grateful for the kindness and support. all the messages, reblogs, comments, tags, etc. kept my spirit alive, and i hope anything i’ve shared has given you some modicum of love, hope, home. let’s get to it!

— kithtaehyung 2024 wrapped 

total posts — art posts: 55 | gfx posts: 13 | fic posts: 8 total word counts — posted: 69,200 | written: 100,000+ total asks — answered: 1,442 | inbox: also a number😅 milestones — 3 years with 3tan | 2_,___ followers | crossing 7,000 3tan asks (ho ly shit lma oo ?? ?)

FIRST FIC OF 2024: broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (myg) ; 240209 ; 1,728 notes  

the current, most recent part of the main 3tan storyline. this one broke me, put me back together, then broke me again. the mental strain of writing both broken pt. 1 and broken pt. 2 was one of the main reasons why i had to take this long of a break. but we’ll be back to the main storyline in 2025! 

series notes: idr but it's a number!!!!

MOST POPULAR FIC OF 2024: minted: part one (myg) ; 240805 | 2,835 notes

was absolutely nervous to post this one because it’s incredibly different from the rest of “the ryenverse” as y’all call it, but the reception? holy crap! y’all are amazing and have been incredibly kind and supportive. i’m so glad we can all scream about gangster mint-haired yoongi together now.

series notes: 5,163 total | part two: 1,321 | part three: 1,007

LAST FIC OF 2024: holiday (3tan) (myg) ; 241227 ; 536 notes 

the yearning for these two was hurting us so badly that i spewed out a whole 8.1k in a week lmfao. hope it was able to lift some end of year/holiday spirits. 

2024 IN SONGS: HUH?! - agust d ft. j-hope | HISS - megan thee stallion | LOST! - rm | heart on the window - jin ft. wendy | NISSAN ALTIMA - doechii | overnight - connor price ft. tommy royale | tv off - kendrick lamar | sticky - tyler, the creator ft. glorilla, sexyy redd, lil wayne | too much - kid laroi, jung kook, central cee | woke up - xg

2024 IN FIC RECS: (it's a goal to read more in 2025 omg.. these are all the ones from friends i'll plug for now, and all the fics sent to the artist drop channel in our server!) éffleurer (ksj) - @sugaurora not yet (myg) & substance (knj) - @newmittens obsidian (myg) - @sailoryooons cyberslut (myg) - @kimnjss party on you (jhs) - @here2bbtstrash in motion (jjk) - @yoonia lover to lean on (pjm) - @sketchguk no strings (pjm) & the holi-date (kth) - @kpopfanfictrash moonlit throne (myg) - @hobidreams miracle of the season (jjk) - @cybrsan midnight (jjk) - @leahsfavefics crystallized (ksj, myg) - @floralseokjin server artist drops: friendcation (myg) - @kingofbodyrolls i will come to you (ksj) - @/kingofbodyrolls whalien52 (pjm) - @/kingofbodyrolls end of the world (myg) - @/kingofbodyrolls i'm not sure?! (pjm, kth, jjk) - @melancholy-of-nadia infatuation (myg) - @/melancholy-of-nadia love you lately (myg, knj, pjm) - @/melancholy-of-nadia too high (myg, jhs) - @ysljoon whirlwind (myg) - @/ysljoon midnight snacks (kth) - @xiumya the moon goddess's chosen (myg) - @army93bangya gods of the dark (myg) - @/sailoryooons need you to be sure (kth) - @yoongimain route 613 (knj, myg, vmin) - @daegudrama elemental (jjk) - @/kpopfanfictrash txt - a night out at the club - @jettithink risky business (jhs) - @jaysdimples what the moon saw (myg) - @violetsiren90

2025 PROJECTS: 

ot7 releases: release at least one fic or drabble for every member!

open source fic rec form: a form for both writers and readers to submit their fics or recs so we can all have a centralized list. 

3tan physical copies: get these babies out in the world! i know y’all have been wanting them so i’ll try.

3tan finale: finish out the main 3tan storyline. this is gonna destroy me in every way possible, but i think i can do it. we’ll make it through. 

what a damn year! dunno how we managed to do all of this in 2024 but i'm grateful y'all are still here or ventured through the blog at some point. thank you all again!

this was so late so I’m assuming i’m the last to do it, but if you see this and wanna consider yourself tagged then be my guest!

[bambi-kinos]

A question to be taken lightly but not meant to offend you or anything. But who was/ is the walrus? like in the video, in the song(s) and what can it mean, really? ( I "know" the "official" content) but I don't really believe neither wrote songs w/o meaning anything or used double meaning words for nothing. I also don't think everything has a meaning or an answer.

I think the concept of the Walrus is amorphous and shifted around depending on their moods. A meaning can't be pinned down because the meaning changes depending on the context. The most reliable interpretation of the Walrus is that it demonstrates John's mindset depending on how he uses it. Otherwise I don't think there's anything special about the Walrus in of itself.

So the official story is that John wrote I Am The Walrus to get back at the people who were convinced that every Beatles song had a special encoded meaning. John responded with one of his nonsense poems and he ended up choosing Lewis Carrol's creation The Walrus as a touchstone. Right? Right.

There used to be a post floating around waxing rhapsodic about how John modeled himself on the Walrus and Paul on the Carpenter and this was because the Carpenter could ONLY be Paul and zomg you guiz SYMBOLISM. It was all so intentional!!! (Personally I think that shit gets more and more pretentious the more I think about it.)

It's a cute idea but it's missing out on one important factor: John didn't think in those terms. There is a connection between him, Paul, and Carroll in John's mind but it would only make sense to John and perhaps Paul. When John says he wrote it to bite back at critics, who were using their Ovaltine decoder rings trying to figure out the DEEP INTENTIONAL SYMBOLISM OF BEATLE SONGS, I think he meant it. He made the Walrus a touchstone because John loved Carroll's wordplay and poetry. They were aiming for an animal motif and it fit. It was a cute shorthand nod to his genuinely sociopathic partner, John got to watch a bunch of overeducated pencil jockeys trying to figure it all out, he laughed, good times had by all. The important part is that it wasn't a big deal.

But for John there was dismay on the way. People would not shut the fuck up about the Walrus and what it meant and John is getting increasingly angry because it doesn't mean anything and now a bunch of people are getting fired up over nothing and OOOOHHH GLASS ONIONNNNNN. So John puts in the Walrus again on Plastic Ono Band, again as a big middle finger to all of these blowhards and me-tooers all pulling on his coattails going "hey John! hey John! what about the Beatles! what about the Beatles John! what does it all mean John!" So John writes "I was the walrus but now I'm John" on the track God. The Walrus itself still does not mean anything to John, he's just weaponizing the perceptions of fans against themselves. In their minds "the Walrus" represented The Beatles and John's own Beatleness and John knew that. The boomer fans at the time were absolutely convinced that I Am The Walrus was a secret masterwork of unbreakable code...simply because they didn't understand it. "I don't get it so it must be super deep!"

And the thing is John hated that kind of thinking. He appreciated mystery sure but he was a lot more invested in accessibility. He wanted art to be for everyone, he wanted everyone to invest their own meaning into art. That was why he was so taken with Yoko in the first place, because Yoko's artwork is based in creating open ended experiences where the art itself is created by the thoughts and feelings and sensations you experienced while you interact with her exhibits. You don't get in the bag to look cool, you do it so you can have the experience of being in the bag, even if it was just "well that sucked." What John loved about it was the "YES" factor, that Yoko Ono wants the audience to create the art with her by interacting with her exhibits. Art is not a static thing where you sit on your ass and stare at it or listen to it, art is the thing that happens inside your head when you hear "I am the Eggman/I am the walrus/googoo gah joob" and think "what the fuck does that mean" and then you develop a personal interpretation with your thoughts and feelings that belongs to you and you alone. (And that is why Yoko is actually kinda underrated! She was too hip for the room man. You just don't get it man....)

But the fans and overeducated idiots didn't want to do that. They wanted strict prescriptions for interpreting Beatle music. Many fans refused to appreciate I Am The Walrus for what it is: a silly and slightly lewd/violent nonsense poem John probably worked out on the back of an envelope. (Written with Paul's bottom as a table, I'm sure.) They wanted it to be more than it was instead of appreciating the joy that John gifted them by singing the song for them.

So John turned it around on them in God and on Plastic Ono Band. They want to believe in the Walrus so much? Fine. He'll kill the Walrus. It's dead. There is no more Walrus, there are no more Beatles, there is only John, and Yoko, and John&Yoko. The fans wanted the Walrus to mean something so badly that they strangled the poor thing to death and John had to put it out of its misery. That poor fucking creature, John just wanted it to amuse the children and look what the cretins made him do. The Walrus was supposed to be a cute nod to Lewis Carroll, not be a fucking Beatle thing!

It's important to note John's (warranted) bitter and volatile mindset towards the Beatles machine. I want to make a whole post about it someday but John was pretty furious and I think he was right to be. But he also chose to deal with it by killing what the fans loved. I think he was justified but also, oof.

Wrt the music video: I believe it's Paul in the Walrus costume right? George referenced this in the When We Was Fab music video where there's a left handed bass guitarist in the Walrus mask. So yes, there was a link to Paul and the Walrus in the beginning. I think this was part of John's private joke. Paul was the closest to his heart so of course Paul should get to play the character from John's favorite poet. John even references this in Glass Onion, the last time he tried throwing Paul a bone. But again, I don't think it meant anything overly deep or significant as a symbol in of itself. The Walrus doesn't mean anything innately.

But then we get into the interesting stuff: John referencing "the Walrus" in his Just Like Starting Over demo. Specifically referencing taking the Walrus back to bed! Well, well, well. And I believe there's an interesting line from Paul in 1979 isn't there where he says "I am the walrus/was the walrus but now I'm Paul" in an interview or something? I may be making that up, I'm not sure.

So what does this big slurry mean?

I think that the Walrus started out in John's mind as just a cute literary toy for Beatle fans to puzzle over. The overeducated and overeager pencil jockeys got one in the eye trying to make sense of gibberish and John got to indulge in his love of cosplay by sticking Paul in a Walrus suit. And it should have ended there, except it didn't, everyone and their dog assumed the Walrus meant something (what about the poor Eggman???) and John tried to pacify them and then that didn't work and then he goes FINE YOU DON'T GET TO HAVE A WALRUS ANYMORE. And he pulps the Walrus.

The change comes with John's shift in mood. Paul's arrest in Japan legitimately threw John for a loop IMO. That's when John started softening towards Paul, that's when Bermuda happened and his creativity came roaring back. The sudden reminder that he could lose Paul forever and then John's realization "I can steer my own ship, I'm in charge of my own life!" which resulted in John starting the process on leaving Yoko under his own power, a very vital point. John was getting his own divorce lawyer according to industry rumors. John was reemerging as the hero he needed to be to save himself and forgive Paul.

All of that culminated in "the time has come the walrus said/for you and me to stay bed again." If the Walrus charts John's inner landscape and his personal feelings towards Paul then this means he was coming out of the fugue and wanted to dote on Paul again, like he used to. Figure out where they could go from here. And it seems John was very optimistic about his future with Paul to be perfectly honest. Taking Paul back to bed after all that time? And Paul seems to have been the one who instigated it! He was still hot for John! Whew!

So all that IMO is what the Walrus "really means." I don't think it's definitive and there's lots of stuff I am definitely missing and didn't include here. Someone I used to know once said she didn't put anything past John because he read everything and kept it all stored in his head, so who knows maybe the jerk off interpretation about the Walrus and the Carpenter and Paul is true.

But ultimately it's just a word with no genuine connection to its animal counterpart and the purpose of it is as a demonstration of John's personal thoughts and feelings mostly (but not always) relating to Paul McCartney.

[musashi]

my favourite thing to do is be the cockroach of the dead fandom. antis will bully me relentlessly, hate me en masse, cancel me, campaign against me, write me callout posts, and since time immemorial i have simply stayed and created. and what makes it so delicious is that my polarity is palpable--the people who hate me, oh they HATE me, but the people who love me? they fucking ADORE me.

in the team rocket fandom there was always some new meangirl every other month or so who would start some massive hate campaign against me hoping i'd run away in tears and every time it happened i felt more and more emboldened to make good art. i just feel it so tangibly in my heart, oh you hate me? you want me gone? what if i became a legend and then you could never escape me? what if you had to hear about me constantly from strangers in the space you tried to remove me from?

so i did that. i wrote the most popular and lauded rocketshipping fic on AO3. long after i'm gone people will still talk about me and my art. and there is nothing anyone can do about it.

i do hope to be the same for the AA fandom. youtube is getting me there slowly but surely, but i think it would be spectacular to achieve it on multiple fronts. this fic i'm writing is my crown jewel, i think. i don't anticipate it will be more popular than my videos, but. it will be beloved. i know that for certain.

[jeeperso]

let's see what I can recall from both canon and your own offhand mentions as you've discussed AEIWAM (extra challenge, I'm not going to refresh my memory of either, other than to check names)

Rukia, Kaien's boating license: her fight with Aaroniero and Arruruerie, and how they use kaien's memory as a weapon

Ukitake, beer coaster from The Dancing Calf tavern, maybe a pickup line or a babysitter: I *think* this is referring to the god hand guy that's keeping ol Cap'n TB from getting worse

Nemu, valentine’s card with the cherubic archer: as Kenpachi says, probably something to do with Uryuu

Kurotsuchi, yellow uno reverse: Pretty sure this is referring to how he takes out the nigh-immortal mad science espada by reversing his cheats, or however that fight goes

Yumichika, the Cassette Box Art for Ghost Of A Rose. no clue

Ikkakku, How To Survive A Chimpanzee Attack from The Big Book Of Not Dying Like A Moron. Step One: Accept Your Fate. Step 2: There is no Step 2. : USE YOUR DAMN BANKAI OUT THE GATE, YOU MORON!

Zaraki, a small silver-backed mirror: based on Kenny's comments that this is gonna suck, I think this refers to Yammy, that or he's misreading and its 'adopt nel'

Toshiro, Three of Lesbians: dunno

Rangiku, First card, faceup and upright is the Fun Facts Flashcard Sharks Are Smooth As Hell. second card, The Lovers, sideways: you'd mentioned she and harribel are gonna hook up, so this is 'don't let her sacrifice herself", i think is the advice

Shuuhei, A bunch of lobsters walking upright like people in the middle of a desert or something and it says “We Are Seven’: fork if I know, but like the big guy says, its gon get weird

Ise, Yggdrasil, Tree of Knowledge, Upside-down: i don't know, but i vaguely recall fake karakura's the one time she got to be cool, so it probably has something to do with...

Shunsui, the coyote, upside down: refers to his throwdown with Coyote Starrk, aka the poor bastard who first told them about the atomic bomb

Iba, marshmallon: no idea

Komamura, Hello, my name is ____: I have vague memory that he's the one fighting tousen in fake karakura

Renji, two of cups/duality: coming to Rukia's rescue

Byakuya, three of cups: gonna fork up a lot of arrancar

Momo, Venus: her meet-cute with Hiyori

Isane, persistence of memory: dunno.

Unohana, The Moshun’s House Of Meat All-You-Can-Eat-Buffet Coupon: lotta things gonna die by her hand/blade/healing halibut

Izuru, upside-down cripple mr Onion: sorry Kira, you're going to hear another doomed soul begging for their life before tomorrow is out

Oemaeda, knight of wands: his moment of glory, coming to his captain's aid

Soi Fon, the roadrunner & the lovers: Soi fon and your elusive, sometimes-mentioned roadrunner arrancar OC are gonna fork up barrigan, then fork each other

Sasakibe, ‘I too was in Arcadia’, and knight of pentacles: dunno, and I honestly keep forgetting this guy exists. but I'm guessing the combination of his, ise and isane's cards is putting together how to get around what BS trap i vaguely recall aizen pulling

Yamamoto, Nachtrichten von Trost und Freude: Ywach is starting his BS again. be ready once this problem's done

Yoruichi, The consequences of my actions (weakness), The address to write to an Agony Aunt Column for relationship advice (strength): Oh, right, her and Soi fon finally get their mess out in the open-mid fight, don't they?

Urahara, Nachtrichten von Trost und Freude (weakness), The Agony Aunts (strength): T4T relations/unplanned pregnancy are everyone's guess, but this might be hogokyu/Aizen BS

Ichigo, Mirror (weakness), empress (strength): in canon, Ichigo nearly loses himself to hollowfication to beat urloquira, but Orihime pulls him back

Orihime, The Library of Babel (weakness), chocolate chip cookie recipe (strength): Orihime's decision to deny Aizen the hogokyu by eating it when no one's looking

Gin, Mars (weakness), persistence of memory (strength): gin is his own worst enemy, but he's just gotta stick to the plan of running Aizen thru the cosmic taffy pull

Aizen, The Knife-Wielding Goose (weakness), Power clow card (strength): Aizen is ungodly powerful, but that's exactly how and why gin's gonna screw him into the cosmic taffy pull

Tousen, the Metamorphosis (problem), King of hearts (solution): true love's kiss will free Kaname Tousen from the horrors of his Resurrection?

Went back to reread the garbage tarot last night, and the few things I did recognize were like. Hilariously on point and literal in the weirdest way possible (extremely positive) and now I want to go back and see how much I can put together based on all the snippets you've given us. Anyways thank you for continuing to share! Your worldbuilding brings me just. So much delight. It's an inspiration, honestly.

I am actually intensely curious to know what parts you do recognize from what you know of AEIWAM/Canon and the garbage tarot post. Its good feedback to know if I'm foreshadowing properly.

[palskippah]

Hi!

The other day I read this post by froppygurl talking about the infantilization of Ballister's character and one person commented on how there's nearly no art of Ambrosius in drag.

>And I remembered that I had these from Halloween that I didn't finish on time so I just abandoned them there dhfjdh but posting them for the lack of Ambrosius in drag drawings pipipi

(Plus a few tiny drawings under the cut that I've drawn of Ambrosius either in a dress or in heels)

>By the way, he's dressed as the back-up dancers in this Shakira's music video, since it was a thing this Halloween on TikTok and many guys dressed as 'las de la intuición' 🗣️ (also yeah, he's missing the purple wig jdfkdf he'll put it on later, don't worry)

>These women 🫦:

(Also when I drew him and Ballister I thought of this picture of Darwin 😭 couldn't really imitate it tho, I have a hard time drawing characters in heels djkdf)

>The ladies are wearing small heels, but I said no bro, thigh-length boots for Ambrosius or nothing 🗣️

>Also I sorta had drawn it from memory, and had forgotten that the shirt was untucked but that way you see more waist so I just left it like that 😔

-Also, on TikTok there's this guy (Andrés something something, he's mexican if I'm not mistaken) that tries on very high heels, and in one video he was trying on a pair and doing stuff like jumping, trotting and sweeping the floor sjdks

>Drew this thing like three months ago bc that guy reminds me of Ambrosius:

*Barre* = *Sweeps*

-Also got this thing from a TikTok video based over those Gravity Falls' credits where they marry the goat and Waddle (That one that sings goat and the pig wooo 🗣️🗣️) (Well in Spanish is something like long live love woooo 🗣️🗣️)

-Oh also I had been thinking about manicure, so, headcanon that Ballister bites his nails short, but Ambrosius gets that kind of manicure that makes nails look 'natural' but shiny and very well-cared for 🗣️ (those sort of nails are so pretty) (also sorry, projecting what I do onto Ballister, I don't even clip my nails off, I just bite them when they get too long and burden me. They smooth in their own with the days sjkdsj)

That's it 🧍 my humble contribution wa, hopefully will draw more stuff like this in the future sjkdsd

[just-null]

Wowie rly digging the yandere clone headcanons… how would each react if their darling tried to run away from them?!

You said tried so I assume this was a failed attempt!

Short answer: they get really upset and try making it your fault (shocker.) Ain't no way any of these mfs think they're the problem. Good news! you're mostly unharmed and alive.

This will just be purely writing bc i mostly had thoughts! sorry no drawing this time!!

[cw! mentions of potential harm to reader (no actual harm done), manipulation, toxic relationship dynamics (yandere flavor), obsessive behavior]

Sekido

You're always being hunted the moment the sun comes down and you don't return home in time. Reasons like that are exactly why he hates it when you part from him. 

This time is different.. he can't find you in your usual spots. There's no fucking way, right?

How could you.. No, how DARE you? Do you think that he's some joke? That his feelings for you are something that you can run away from like it's nothing? 

The second he's sure the sun won't harm him, he's already white knuckling his khakkhara, swinging at anything and everything in his path until he gets to you.

They know how to sense if you're near or not, hell, they probably know how your specific blood type smells like. 

Did you think cuddling up to you and memorizing every detail about you was for nothing? Don't be stupid. All he needs is a trace of you and he's gone in the blink of an eye.

You better enjoy running while you can because when he catches you, and he will, those legs of yours won't have much use after he's done with them. 

Sekido doesn't WANT to do this, but you honestly give him no choice. After he trusted you enough to stop looking over his shoulder, you do this? How can he ever put any faith in you again!?

On the bright(?) side, Sekido's rage wouldn't be solely on you, it'll ricochet onto everyone, especially the other clones and himself. 

They were supposed to be looking after you! But they can't do anything right, even a task as simple as this. 

And why did he think it was a good idea to trust them with something of big importance when all they do is fuck everything up!? Everyone's idiocy is rubbing off on him!

The entire time on his search for you, he's cursing and wanting to crush anything he can get his hands on, especially your bones. 

He doesn't even bother with speaking to the others, too busy spewing out all sorts of hurtful and frustrated comments about everything. 

The brutal thought that you’d rather run away than be with him isn't one he wants to entertain, but it's echoing in his head.

At least, once the other clones get there, Karaku and Aizetsu brawl with Sekido so you're unharmed while Urogi carries you overhead. 

Sekido's jealousy flares up when he sees you in Urogi's arms, making him even more pissed if that's even possible. Great, now he looks like the bad guy and the other three, the saviors. Fucking perfect.

There's a lot of yelling and a lot of blood, especially with Urogi making things so much more annoyingly difficult in the air. Karaku and Aizetsu aren't helping. Why is Sekido suddenly the problem?! You ran away!! 

But when he calms down enough, he's cursing at everyone through clenched teeth. Sometimes trying to convince the others that you don't even need your legs anyway!!

Once you get back home (or temporary prison until you somehow regain favor), Sekido will eye your legs while gripping his staff from time to time. 

Exactly why he's forbidden to be in a room alone with you for a while until he settles down..

He glares at you more often and grows colder than before. Arguments are more common where he twists your words just to have you talk with him and be angry within reason. 

Any other type of conversation makes him so irrationally upset that the others need to step in so that he doesn't lose his temper again.

Karaku

The calmest out of the group. He brushes it off as “you're playing hard to get” again, and if he makes a ruckus, you'll scamper back and beg him to stop like always!

Then it gets darker out.. and when Sekido left, he seemed pretty pissed. Like more than usual..... shit.

Karaku sprints after Sekido when it clicks that he's found you. His mind starts reeling, unsure whether he should laugh at the absurdity of your decisions or get pissed off because you didn't even bother to give a hint! 

Not like that would do anything aside from give you away but regardless!

Everyone needs to relax, this is obviously something they can sweep under the rug. This isn't that big of a deal and you're just having a fit, but things like these can get you hurt, y'know? 

They're fun and all, sure, just maybe give him a heads up next time, yeah? Sekido can't take a joke, you know this!!! Still.. There's a way Karaku can work with this.

He'll be able to swoop in, save you, be your hero, and remind you why staying with him is kinda important. Just in case you forgot~ 

You don't wanna be out and about without his charming grin and protective hold would you? Don't answer that right now, he has a feeling you'll say something wrong!

Yet.. what if you need a firmer hand to remind you of what Karaku provides? What if you got a little too comfortable being protected so you thought you'd be alright leaving them? Man, who knew you could be spoiled!

Because of this, he would purposely fumble, letting Sekido get near you just so he can stop him at the perfect moment. He purposely gets hit too and makes sure some blood gets near you. To remind you how that could've been yours.

When Sekido calms down, Karaku laughs in your face and would pinch your cheeks if you weren't up in the air with Urogi on the way home.

You should've seen your face! It was really cute~! Maybe getting scared is your thing? He'll note that for later.

He offhandedly advises you not to do things like that all the time, fighting Sekido always kinda sucks, but it's not like you actually had a chance of successfully running away so he won't chastise you too much for it. 

That's not his job, and his heart hasn’t pumped that fast in a long time.. not even in a fight! You're so amazing~~

And delusional if you think he's not going to milk this “heroism” thing back there for some extra affection points with you. 

Don't be so mean. he got his head blown off twice and jaw dislocated thrice, not to mention everywhere else on his body. Don't you think those parts of him need some extra loving? more than usual?

There's not that much Karaku can say after that aside from reminiscing like it was a funny story. He's not upset about it, mostly a little miffed you got kinda far without him noticing, but he gets over it. 

The usual routine starts back up for him when you're back home. It's like nothing happened, but he keeps a closer eye on you since everyone's so tense.

Urogi

If you're not home before the sun sets, Urogi's clawing at the walls with stress. He usually accompanies Sekido to go find you, but this time is different. Urogi could just barely tell you were around.. When Sekido bolts, Urogi's flying as fast as he can, trying to find you first. 

You're so far.. you must've gotten kidnapped!!!!!

The stress from before burns into anger, expecting to see someone having their hands on you while you're calling out in vain. How could he let this happen?! Damn sun! 

He darts through the skies even faster imagining it, and when he finally reaches you, you look.. fine? and alone. and looking at him like he's the danger. He's here to save you, dummy..

Urogi falls to his knees, burying his face against your stomach and finally wrapping his arms around you again. Your fists violently hit his head and yank fistfuls of hair back, but it doesn't phase him. 

Your comforting warmth is back, that's all that matters. And god, your smell.. it's almost making him dizzy. He missed you so much.

There's many holes to the story in Urogi's head as to why you're so far from home, but he fills them in with more convoluted delusions. It's just a peaceful reunion right now.. 

That is until Sekido finally arrives and starts swinging his khakkhara way too close to your fragile bones. 

Now he's back in defense mode where he scoops you up and tries flying out of reach. This is so stressful!!! There's lightning everywhere and he keeps having to dodge the multiple staffs thrown his way. 

He shields you with his wings as best he can while trying to stay in the air, so you don't get hurt during Sekido's outburst.

In the skies, it's much clearer to see the hurt behind the haunting glow of Urogi's eyes. Did you care about how he might feel? Did you miss him at all? Did you not feel loved enough? Did someone say something to you? 

As he maneuvers the sky, he holds you as tightly as possible, lightly digging his talons into your skin.

Being without you for a couple hours is agonizing enough on its own. If you HAD left him, abandoned, cold, alone.. he doesn't want to think about it. All that matters is that your kidnappers or liars or whatever influenced you are gone, and you're back safe with them!!! 

You.. you still like him, right? Of course you do, fate wouldn't force your paths together if it wasn't for a reason!

Coming back home is uncomfortably tense, especially with how violently Aizetsu kicked Urogi across the room, nearly through the wall, when he tried to lick your wounds clean. It really hurt! 

When you're patched up, Urogi is ten times as clingy if that's possible. He has his arms looped around you constantly so you can't stray too far, and if his hands are busy, he always has his wings!

As happy as he is that you're back, he can't help but cry into your chest sometimes. Everything is so tense nowadays, he hates it! How could you go and do something like that? Apologize immediately! Or at least hold him too? Doubt creeps in a lot, and your attitude isn't helping.. 

His mood swings are stronger. From sobbing uncontrollably into your clothes to being all smiles and radiating with joy the next just because you said something vaguely decent.

Aizetsu

The demotivation started to creep in the second you left. During the day, Aizetsu sits by the door, wanting to be the first one you properly greet. Sekido and Urogi usually bring you back and he'll be the one in your good graces without lifting a finger. That sounds nice.. 

But as the footsteps fade and the silence lingers, Aizetsu feels miserable the longer he waits... Hold on, silence?

Before he realizes what's happening, he's already dashing to where the familiar commotion is coming from. Dread sets in as his legs take him as fast as they can whilst being the slowest of the four. This doesn't feel like they're rushing over to you after a long day, it feels.. dangerous?

What did you get yourself into..? Why do you insist on going to places Aizetsu can't follow? Are you safe? He hates not knowing.

Usually you're the one who's fine. You deal with four demons almost daily! Please please please be okay. He can't fathom it if you were hurt. 

When he gets there, the puzzle pieces fall into place and Aizetsu gets even more depressed, but at least you're not hurt. Well, not if he interferes. His movements are sluggish, a perpetual frown plastered on his face as he tries holding Sekido down. 

Aizetsu wants to dissolve into the floor, and he does sometimes. Not wanting to fight Sekido off anymore, he slumps over. 

This could've been a regular day where you came home.. Are you serious? Leaving? How pitiful could you be to actually think you could get away? Or was it that you wanted to play some sick joke on them? Well, it's not very funny... It's terrible actually.

Aizetsu stays silent on the way home, walking with a bit more energy knowing you're near despite his heart ache.

You can feel the harrowing disappointment radiating off of him the moment you all go back home.

He's tired, annoyed, and so unbelievably upset. Aizetsu grimaced when Urogi got near your scratches with his tongue, so he “politely” ushered him away. 

Knowing a human's weak points is good in battle, but he started trying to learn how to heal them, specifically because he knew these types of things might happen.

As he cleans your scratches, he's actively scolding you for leaving in a cold emotionless tone. And by scolding, he's using manipulative language, trying to make you guilty for everything you did. 

He barely has the energy to live, but now that he finally found his light in the darkness, you want to leave? Is it so wrong he wants to hold onto what makes him even a smidgen happier than usual? He reminds you that he'll wither away without you, but he's not really too keen on dying just yet.

When he tries to get back into a routine, he just can't. He knows why you left, but he doesn't want to hear it. Even if you're sweet to him or not, he'll hold you from behind when you rest.

Looking at you is too much, but being away from you is even worse. Aizetsu compromises this way, but gets quieter, occasionally sniffling when he hides his face behind you.

There's too much going on and he's so tired.. If it weren't for the others, he probably would've held you so tight for so long so that you both would perish together.

Maybe that’s why he's only allowed to hold you when you're asleep. Just please don't do that again.. He NEEDS you. Please, please, please.

Safe to say you gave them a scare. When they double down on the protectiveness, living is ten times more difficult for EVERYBODY. when you lose their trust, it's pretty difficult to gain it back, but not impossible!!

Sekido and Urogi will always assume the worst if you're gone for too long while Karaku and Aizetsu give you a little more freedom until the others drag them along into their worries.

[msmc-796-official]

I... have a confession to make, of sorts. There won't ever be a good time to admit this, unfortunately, so it's best I get this off my chest now, and ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

It has not been easy speaking with all of the flashclones who have made themselves known in the wake of Union's latest raids; both for myself, and the squadron at large. I must commend my squadmates for handling themselves with the utmost professionalism - while my own correspondences with these newest members of the Omninet have been what I would consider adequately polite, I've been biting my tongue the entire time, and I fear that my personal discomfort with the issue is starting to slip through the cracks.

To this end, I wish to share my thoughts publicly, that I might better express my own emotions towards this complicated, frustrating, and highly nuanced issue. I only ask that you hear me out in full before you render judgement, and pronounce your sentence carefully.

First: an observation.

MSMC policy requires that all pilots dictate an end-of-life plan at the time of their recruitment, that their final wishes may be carried out by the company in the event of their death under MSMC's employ. The options provided for this are effectively unlimited, allowing the pilot a great deal of choice and freedom in planning their postmortem arrangements. These plans may also be altered in the future should circumstances change, provided the pilot is of sound body and mind.

Under MSMC policy, in compliance with the policies set forth by Union, one of the available postmortem options is flashcloning.

In my fifteen-odd years serving under MSMC, I have only heard of three pilots who have willingly chosen to be flashcloned after death (thus prolonging not only their life, but their term of service under MSMC as well). Of these, I have only personally met one, affiliated with MSMC-808 "5Q8R3 L00P3RZ" - I believe their current iteration goes by callsign Lemniscate. While I do not know how many times they have been cloned during their term of service, their current iteration seems happy enough, and their squadmates reassure me that they've maintained a consistent identity (plus or minus the odd quirk, as is typical of flashclones) throughout their life (lives?).

Second: a digression.

I purchased my Dusk Wing, And The Voice of Apollo Spoke From On High (Apollo for short), from an SSC showroom on a planet whose name I no longer recall. The curated atmosphere called to mind the high marble pillars and lush green-blue waters of some distant Cradle mythology where gods roamed the earth and mortals strove to emulate them, punished and rewarded for their folly in equal measure with gifts and curses beyond name. Each frame was posed as the statues of old on Cradle, too-human limbs arrayed in too-human poses, each a machine of war turned living art piece.

Apollo, true to its future name, was arrayed in flight; hover-jets draped with sunlight-yellow gossamer, veil rifle aimed in its middle tier of manipulators with the same care and precision as an archer would take with their bow. To see it lowered to the floor after its purchase was to see Icarus fall; to climb inside its cockpit for the first time, to don wax-and-feather wings of my own and fly.

The old tales caution that divinity has a cost, and I too paid the price. A vial of blood, drawn with silver needle and spirited away into an unseen cooler before my pen ever touched paper. Apollo was mine, but SSC had received a far greater gift in its place: a sample of my DNA, unwillingly donated as the price for my divine armament.

Even now, this price weighs heavy on my head like the sword which hung above Damocles, poised to drop without a moment's notice with each new Union raid on yet another forgotten cloning facility. Who can say on what distant planet the children I did not birth sleep in stasis - children with my eyes, my hair, my nose, my smile; sons and daughters who will never be called as such because, to their creators, they are slaves, weapons, property - anything but human.

Third: an explanation.

I believe that flashcloning, in its current state as of 5016u, as approved by Union's Third Committee (and exploited by the likes of SSC, HA, and several countless others across the stars) is an inherently unethical practice; both for those who donate their DNA (willingly or otherwise), as well as for those persons produced by it.

To see countless lives created, manipulated, slaughtered, and recycled in the name of so-called "progress"; to see inherently human beings stripped of every vestige of humanity but the body in which they reside and then forcibly brainwashed and molded into soldiers, medics, mechanics, weapons, machines, slaves, property - it is an abominable and inhumane practice that should have died a slow and painful death in the darkness from whence it was birthed.

This being said: I cannot stand idly by as the products of this inhumane practice continue to suffer. No matter whether it is beneath the apathetic gaze of Union, the dehumanizing bootheel of HA, or the eugenicist scalpel of SSC, I will not allow my fellow persons to endure another day of abuse at the hands of those who would abandon their own creations as little more than imperfect failures for daring to remind their creators of their sentience.

Alone, I can do nothing. I too am but a cog in this great uncaring machine humanity has built, one which prospers on suffering and bloodshed and the work of hands which have forgotten the body to which they are attached. Even if I were to risk life and limb and reputation to make my position known, it is a battle which lies dead in the water - it is impossible to halt the wheels of progress without irreparably damaging the future which relies on their turning.

And so I fight. I fight for those who have forgotten their humanity, both willingly and unwillingly, that they might find something of their own - identity, purpose, desires, connection, life - that reminds them of what they were and are and always have been: human.

-- Angel

[whenastrofell]

(I guess we'll have to stay together... for the public... /j) (Also I forgot to respond for like. A day or two. So I guess we're even)

She was an... interesting person, I'll say that much. It's been a few years maybe she's changed-

I think you're more shocked than I was reading it at the time aldkfasl;k- I came pre-desensitized lmao

They were so good! I loved them! I got soo far and it's like. The world was insane like it was just a pokemon game. Nintendo was just jealous lowkey. I got voted off roblox survivor so many times... :( Truly sad for like. 10 year old me. (Damn... I guess you can steal one of my libraries we have enough alkjds)

I have not ever related to a character as much as I relate to Fugo. I don't want to know what that says about me lmao- My irl friend (if I talk about my irl friend it's almost 95% sure it's her- My bestie fr) got me into she ra and I got her into vld. We were obsessed- I'm surprised my dad didn't make fun of it- He has this things where he'll watch the netflix adaptation of 80s cartoons and get mad at them for being cheesy like father. Father this is He-Man. Father this is fucking He-Man of course it's cheesy??

I think him being the favorite is probably just canon? I forget if they use those exact words but at the beginning of pt5 he does know where Polpo's treasure is and those other guys know he knows so. I think it's canon. I need to rewatch it but I'm bad at watching shows-

Twitter scares me bc of musk rat man and also I tried posting my art and it just got nothing and like. I don't make art for internet attention but I don't even wanna be on twitter anyway so I deleted it-

Oof yeah that sucks. Most of my friends are on the same wavelength as me so we get work done we're just ✨annoying✨while we do it.

My friends listen they just don't remember lol- I cannot blame them. I remember very little of the plot of Heaven Official's Blessing, but I do know "she was ugly and now she's dead" and that Pei Ming is hot and that's all that matters. My friend remembers that Giorno is terrifying and that I'm obsesed with Fugo and Mista and that's what's important lol. Ooof that sucks- I showed my friend part one and she liked it (she just hates me for watching the dub lmao). My partner and I do a thing where since we both get Super Obsessed with stuff we alternate episodes (e's currently showing me dungeon meshi and I'm showing em jjba part 5 :3) (I showed her a fic I was writing and she only knew about Giorno at that point so she combined them in her head. Now she does it to spite me... And other people have caught on...). Okay yeah I did see the smiley faces and stuff that makes more sense now-

You should totally ramble to me about ships you like :3 However many you like I’m just curious uwu

(I didn’t answer this as soon as I got it bc I was thinking about what to say lolz 😭)

tbh I like most ships as long as it’s not problematic or I find them weird/that they don’t have much chemistry. I also don’t mind poly or platonic ships (duh). I’d be sitting here all day yapping ab the ships I like/am okay w bc frankly it doesn’t have to strictly be character A X character B, I think it could also be character A X character C, etc. as long as it’s not any wrong. I won’t be going apeshit(/neg) over ships that I don’t like as much or have like a 2 year age gap. I mean, I think it starts to get weird when there’s 4 years of difference. I think people do too much when they hate on less popular ships smh if it’s nothing weird then let ppl have fun w their little kitty witties smh 😞

Huge yapping starts here vvv

Some ships I like tho r a lot of Ghibli movie couples in general bc they’re just super cute and I love the writing Ghibli does for its characters (I want what they have.). I also like Yukito/Yue X Touya and Syaoran X Sakura from CCS but that doesn’t mean I don’t also like Tomoko X Sakura (pretty sure Tomoko implied to like her anyway). I also like some other side ships from CCS but I barely remember their names bc it’s been so long since I’ve watched it and Netflix took it down 💔. CCS ships r cute in general I think, I’ve never seen any problematic ship (except that one girl X her fucking teacher. Pookie. You’re like 13. Don’t date ur teacher. And she was so pretty too bro why did they make her a questionable character 😭). And now. Getting to jjba my beloved. Since I unfortunately focus so so so much on p5 those are the only ships I’ll yap ab 😢. Huge honorable mention to Jonathan X Erina (jonaeri) tho they’re super cute together even if a lot of ppl said they barely have screen time and stuff :3. Anyway. Part 5. I honestly don’t care much about ships in la squadra as long as they had some form of interaction y’know (I don’t pay too much attention to La squadra anyway 💔). Usually ppl get really divided when it comes to Bucci gang ships tho. Honestly I’d rather see them all as a friend group that see each other as siblings to avoid all that shipping, but I admit I really like some pairings, like fugonara, bruabba, giotrish, futrish, naratrish, etc. I really don’t mind it that much (I don’t rlly ship mista w anyone bc I just don’t think there’s anybody matching his freak 😭). I mainly ship fugonara as you can see just bc to me it makes a lot of sense even if I also see them under platonic light. If there’s fugo, there’s narancia, and if there’s narancia, there’s fugo. I just find that rlly cute :3. I also like their backstories and how they tie together and the narancia death scene ripped my heart out in the anime so (IM CRYING AGAIN JUST FROM THINKING AB IT STOP 💔). Again that doesn’t mean I dislike the other ships, I just don’t pay much attention to them or think they had as much chemistry or time together. I love seeing my fave characters tho, so it’s not like I won’t like the content if there’s like gionara or something. Honestly I like seeing ppl have fun w their cutie patooties as long as it’s not too controversial, once again. It’s rlly a shame that ppl can jump at each others throat bc they disagree on a mere ship. It’s literally not gonna alter your life. Also, bc I say a ship some bucci gang characters doesn’t mean I don’t also ship them platonically. (I’ll type it like it’s ao3 tags lolz. Pretty sure & instead of / is for platonic, right?) I rlly like Narancia&Mista&Fugo (torture dance trio is literally the best friendship ever to me bc wdym you did a coordinated dance w ur homies to torture someone that’s so cool). There are also a few others, but they don’t come to mind rn (and there’s a f,y in my room annoying me.) You know what I think I gave jjba way too much attention. I also like Mimi X Sheshe (my fav lesbians fr 😍) from mermaid melody pichi pichi pitch. They tried censoring them by making them “sisters”, but they were blatantly and very obviously lesbians. Like vro. They are touching each other so homoerotically and have complimenting colours. And I think that’s most of it…

I don’t wanna make this any longer than it is so um. Yeah. This was a ramble. I didn’t realize it was so long lolz. But yeah it’s basically that :3

[fireboos99]

so, uh, @origamihoshi introduced me to an interactive fiction game that is very much up my alley so, here is my trash gremlin that is just trying to survive after what happened with it's friends it's a bit of a menace (oh? you think I'm creepy? alright, I'll play it up then!) who alternates between provoking people and just doing whatever it wants without a word. it may not be the brightest, but it makes up for that with how quick it is to take action. ...or, at least it thinks it does.

Ori also said I should, uh, ping the blog for the game, so, um I'm just gonna @drinkyourvillainjuice and then hide for, like, ever, haha

[lightningidle]

Fig's line "I don't think I'm an artist, I think I'm just a good friend" has not left my head at all. Just...

You're Fig Faeth and your horns came in over the summer and you pick up the bard class as a form of adolescent rock 'n' roll rebellion, and it works! It's exactly the outlet you need! You give a guy you just met drumsticks and you start a band and it's good enough that within a year and a half you're touring. You are, in every sense, good at being a bard.

And then, finally, your junior year, you start to take it seriously. Your art goes from an outlet and a form of rebellion to a practice. A discipline. (Can rebellion exist within a discipline?) Your classmates know what they want to do with their work. They all have a thesis statement. And yeah, there's cohesion in the music you make, but you've never had to think about why you make it. You've never sat down and dissected what it is about bass that speaks to you. You've never poured over your lyrics to pick at any deeper meaning. Why should you? You don't play music for a grand design, you do it to... huh, why do you do it?

(Your art is the one form of self-expression that feels as safe as Disguise Self does, because even if you're pouring your heart onto the page and then screaming it in front of thousands of people, it's not like you're really making yourself known. You can sing I'm lonely, I'm scared, I'm furious, and your fans will sing it right back, and there will still be the distance between performer and audience to keep your heart safe.)

Now you're being asked to look inward to explain the artistic choices you're making, and you can't help but recoil at that, because you'd rather do anything than look inward. Meanwhile, your classmates have no problem with it, so you start to wonder if you're a real artist at all. Can your art be authentic if it only exists to bolster a thesis statement? Has your art been unauthentic this whole time because you've never really thought about a thesis statement before? Is that what makes it art, and not just the next track on somebody's teen angst playlist?

You can't think about yourself— acknowledging your own existence makes you want to puke. So if your music is an extension of yourself, (and it is, even if it's just because the spotlight reveals only what you want it to,) you can't think about your music. You can't. You have to. Your grade depends on it.

You're Fig Faeth, and you keep multiclassing because you'd rather be a good friend than a great artist. If introspection is what great art demands, then fuck it. You must not be a bard at all.

[dotssu3]

i've got a bad habit of announcing things too early and losing momentum, but this time i aimed to create a short story that's manageable to finish. the goal is to use what i learn here to speed up development on introdemo, and i’m hoping it'll make a difference. also, i wanted to explore another story since i've been working on id for so long.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 2 thoughts

(racing against time because a thunderstorm is rapidly encroaching but i need to know what happens next)

and for once, a storm did not disrupt my streaming experience! but i almost wish it did. because this episode made me very sad. let's jump in.

we got another “previously on the X files” at the start... is that what is gonna happen every time now?? not sure if i like that or not. but i'm sure it was useful back when you had to wait a week in between episodes, to jog the memory.

noooo not the alien gassing scene again!!! it was featured in our recap. and it was just as evil as the first time.

so now the story begins.

we're back in New Mexico. Albert is talking about the story of the gila monster. it is a great story! i wonder if they had cultural consultants for this season, or hired an Indigenous writer.

Albert announces that a great event took place on the plains!!! a white buffalo was born on the same day mulder was revived…. this is a powerful omen of great changes.

(and the buffalo didn’t look white, but tbh, probs hard to find one for such a scene, so perhaps washed out lighting was the best they could do. i understand the constraints)

does the theme sound slightly off? almost like it starts on a different beat now. OH they cut the whole thing short. well that would explain the difference i felt. why would they do this to me? i was well-accustomed to the rhythm! can't a girl groove a little?

okay, NOW we're back to the gun off between scully and skinner. and it’s tense!

mulder bursts in and I’m CACKLINGGG. please, this had to be the last thing he was going to expect. his boss and his bestie with guns in each other's faces. i’m cryinggg

(also her face. her face when she sees it is him. it's sooo good)

“you okay, scully?”, he asks, adding his gun to the fray “yeah”, she says, as she looks at the man back from the dead... ohhhhhhh... the sense of relief

and OHHHH they BOTH pull guns on skinner to get the tape back!! i'm SOOOOOOO seated. this is juicy.

and i hate to say it, but skinner is lowkey making sense here with his campaign to keep the tape. he says that they don’t want it back in "their" hands. skinner seems deeply confused regarding whatever the hell just happened but they finally agree that he should hold onto it for now.

this next part, when they leave his place. man. i'm just gonna keep it verbatim because it captured a lot of emotions:

"OHHHH LOOK AT HER FACE WHEN THEY GET ALONE TOGETHER OHHH SHE’S SOOOO CUTE OHHH THE LITTLE SMILE OH I’M DEAD"

it was SO sweet. she couldn't believe it. he tried to say something but she cut him off, saying she went to his father's funeral and told his mom she would be okay, because she knew it. she didn't know how, but she knew it.

(they were leaned in so close for so long... for a split second i thought they would kiss and then the elevator closed... ohhh. maybe they did and we just didn't see it)

((maybe this is the part where they kissed in the bloopers i have seen floating around? if so. i get it. i think i would have done the same had i found myself acting in such a scenario))

but the sweetness cannot last, and we are back to the hospital, where poor mrs. scully is dealing with learning her OTHER daughter was shot in the head. the head!!! a terrible place to be shot!!! they put melissa in an induced coma!!!!! melissa did not deserve this and scully doesn’t even KNOW this has happened!!

ohh, i’m sad. but we’re back with the lone gunmen, and things are okay in scully’s mind, because mulder’s back and they have a trail to chase and she doesn’t know yet that her sister was shot in the head. and i’m sad because she doesn’t know such a horrible thing happened, but also i want to be happy because she’s happy. her face when she saw him. i will think about it for decades.

operation paper clip mentioned... ah, yes, i have heard of this. they mention a nazi named “Victor Klemper”... is he real? verdict is in, one search later: victor is NOT real. but he has a very similar name to a real famous german historian!

“what would he be doing in a photo with your father”, asks scully. and why did she say this in a manner that was, to me, seductive? you know what? i think honestly it’s a me problem. shame on me for being distracted from the narrative by such things.

frohike and mulder reunion!!! it is sweet. but only for a moment is it sweet, because he breaks the news on scully's sister, who is horrified.

she runs really fast to try and go see her, but mulder catches up to her in the stairwell when she is almost out the door, and says the people who meant to kill her will be waiting at the hospital. oh, and melissa's earlier words from s2 episode 8, about mulder trying to get even, are prophetic here… “cause the only thing you can do for her right now is to try to crucify them", he says. it is a shame her wishes for peace and acceptance instead of violence couldn't be honored, and that going to visit her wouldn't be safe.

at the UN alien council. they are discussing this "serious mistake", of shooting melissa instead of scully. OH! the man from the funeral is there!!!

(for the sake of this episode, he shall bear the moniker "funeral man". but if he has a real name, please feel free to share. i'm asking you to do so. because i come up with these things on the fly. and i really could read the credits i guess but this is mostly just a one person operation with google only serving to check historical accuracy, not things as risky to spoilers as the NAMES of the CHARACTERS!)

((but i did see cig man/cancer man referred to in my notes once as "csr" which actually made sense. because i had spun one of those "fuck marry kill" wheels on here and gotten "csr x files" and i had no idea who that was referring to. but it turns out i did know him. kill btw))

funeral man is calling out cig man’s “ridiculously ineffectual assassins”, which, honestly, what did we expect from krychek? and oh, he is digging INTO cig man. it's enjoyable to witness. he’s being called out for mulder not really being dead AND the tape not really being in his hands like he claims. cig man LIES (average thing for him to be doing, all things considered), and tells the others on the alien council that “i’ll have it here for you tomorrow” which is an awful big promise. a very very big promise. 

next scene: a greenhouse! it's quite lovely until it isn't, because the old man tending to the flowers is victor, a nazi who got clemency under operation paperclip. so a very very bad fellow. scully is being mean to him, but obviously he deserves much, much, much worse. 

he asks about a formula and scully knows it, then says the photo was from west virginia. those are the only cryptic clues he offers. okay, off to a very mountainous road trip. god bless their poor souls. dealing with motion sickness on top of all the mess at hand.

funeral man is receiving a call from victor. they know each other? he snitched that mulder visited the greenhouse. and victor says funeral man was “venal”. new word learned! meaning susceptible to bribery!! is this the truth...?? i mean i THINK mulder comes from money due to the whole martha's vineyard thing, but does he have enough to buy his way out of this?

also. let's ask the real question. why is victor calling and dropping clues. is it fun for him.

anyway, the rest of the alien subdivision of the UN says that they are calling in “their friends who will handle this matter more satisfactorily” because krychek obviously sucks at his job 

KRYCHEK SPOTTED at the hospital! wait no it was actually just another random well-dressed guy stalking about. BUT YOU KNOW WHO IS HERE: ALBERT!!!!

did he come all the way here from New Mexico or was he is in the region... 😭😭 Albert, you deserve more than this earth will ever give you. so much has been taken from you. and yet you continue to give.

our agents are pulling up to west virginia. it looks like a ghost town, and i’ve heard that is an accurate depiction. they walk into an abandoned place. with bats in the building!! be careful!! they are rabies vectors!!!

(can you imagine if the show just ended here because mulder got rabies and died. pause to imagine this with me. then i will walk you back to the stuff that actually did happen)

ohh, and as they enter this place, the score is going wild!!! i'm rocking with it. i love a good score. the suspense is building. i ALWAYS want there to be violins to indicate suspense.

they find some locked doors with keypads, and they’re putting in 27828. it’s not working so he’s like "are you SURE scully?" and she says “i’m positive, Napier’s constant is the basis of all natural logarithms” and i giggled. and maybe also kicked my feet and twirled my hair. 

(i am learning, through this liveblog, that nothing makes me blush more than pretty people reciting semi-obscure facts. make of that observation what you will, because op will be contemplating it for a while)

they finally get it open!! i never doubted your number skills, scully. but before they go in, she’s worried about how he’ll feel!!!! what if his father was a bad guy :( “I just know how it would affect me” :((((( she is so thoughtful...

(i'm torn between making a genuine observation on the fact that despite she just learned her sister is dying, she still makes time to be certain mulder is okay with proceeding because it could be upsetting to him. and the other thing i'm thinking about is that that one meme that says "pearl is so kind" and i'm just imagining scully there instead of pearl. i suppose there is room for both)

back to skinner’s office. cig man has arrived. skinner is approaching him like an animal its prey, while bill clinton looms over the corner. 

skinner says he MAY have found the cassette and cig man is PISSSSSED at the implication he would “work deals”. well king!! you may have no choice!

(i hope that what skinner REALLY has is an identical cassette that just has syllables that LOOK like Navajo code but actually mean absolutely nothing. that would be evil and entertaining to me)

cig man looks like he is gonna CRY he is so desperate! but he is basically saying he’ll kill skinner if he has to, so watch out. and AGAIN. banger tv score as all this goes down.

our agents are in an old mine. it’s very dark and full of records!

(turns on the lights and sees the rows of cabinets stretch for what seems like eternity) “lots of files” “lots and lots of files” <- so true

mulder kinda sounds like he’s gonna have a breakdown. all the files have tissue in them... gross???? he asks when she was born so they can check that year’s files AND SEE IF SHE IS IN THEM. OH GOSH. 

and they find her file right away!!! it has a tissue sample and everything, and it’s recent, and that means the project must still be ongoing, despite how abandoned this mine is.

THEY FIND HIS SISTER’S FILE!!!! we are getting so close to answers. but there is a sticker over her name, because the file was originally his. so someone swapped his sister for him???

he’s freaking the fuck out at some large noises, and he runs and leaves her in the archives. something is hissing. AN ARMY OF ALIENS SCAMPERS BY???? they are running from something. HUH??? dana scully alien encounter??? did they just run by her or was that a different corridor in this endless mountain maze. did she see them. it was like a stampede. very hard to miss.

it seems that the aliens from the spaceship are coming and mulder is drawn to them. HIDE! HIDE FROM THEM! THEY WILL TAKE YOU!

he sees a GIANT spaceship flying over the compound. like giant and it’s super bright and it just. flies over. well, I guess west virginia isn’t a bad place to hide such things. due to the lack of people there.

this is not a dig at west virginia it's just rather sparsely populated.

scully is down in the archives still, and a whole lot of people are rolling up with guns. NOOO!! they are shooting at him!!!! with a stormtrooper aim. he is escaping their bullets as if this is just a jungle gym for him.

REUNION in the dark archives!!! scully found a back way out, where it seems the aliens left!!!! they're running into the woods together!!! it’s almost romantic!!!

skinner cam. he’s in maryland. at a nice little diner in the middle of nowhere. WITH OUR AGENTS!!!!

mulder says the hit squad looked like CIA, and i assumed there was some CIA-FBI tensions, but i’m unfamiliar with the lore, in terms of both real life and txf universe. it seems it’s severe though. skinner says he’ll negotiate their lives for the tape but mulder is like NO the public deserves the truth. which is lovely. i love ideals and sticking to your morals. and he’ll die for it bitch!!! he did once!!

“in your wildest dreams, what do you possibly hope to find, agent mulder?” “why they killed my father. and what happened to my sister” ohhh mulder sounds so scared and hurt... because he is. all this talk of truth and morals guiding his life but also this whole thing is so intensely personal for him, it seems impossible to separate one cause from the other. ohh i'm emotional. 

“and what they did to agent scully”, he adds OHHHHH oh man. his family. they took his family. and he needs revenge, he needs to know. and she is included in that. MAN.

scully says they should make the deal, he says “what makes you think there’s any such thing as justice?”, it’s heating up. again, i say: replace the cassette with out of context Navajo syllables. hire me for the FBI.

i was concerned about scully advocating for the deal- does not the truth mean something to her? of course we know it does, but she is being realistic. the truth won't mean much if they're on the run forever, and there is no one to corroborate their story. but she clarifies:

"i want exactly what you want. but i need to see my sister” :((( they both look so sad

“it’s up to you, scully” he’s mad and torn but he leaves the choice to her because her opinion is the one he cares the most about :( and really there are no good options, it's an awful situation

she said to make the deal, but not hand over the tape until mulder says to. hmm. will this plan work?

“i’m sorry about your sister, scully”, he finally says, and she replies that “i just need to know she’s going to be okay”. but i’m not sure it’s looking so good for her and that makes me SO SAD. on the ride home, she sits in the back and lets mulder take shotgun. and i realize, this is because she’s probably gonna cry back there and try to hide it. OUGH.

albert back at the hospital! he prayed over missy for two days. have we said thank you to him? and if so we should keep saying it until we all perish.

but he has received news from the north: the white buffalo calf that was such a strong omen is no longer drinking its mother’s milk. and the mom is sad, and then she died. this is not a good sign. “for something to live, another thing must often be sacrificed”, he says, and it becomes clear someone is not making it out of this episode. i hope against all hope it was krychek that was going to bite it.

it was not :(

skinner here at the hospital to see melissa. he tells scully’s mom that dana is okay, but in a very serious situation they hope to reverse :( 

albert points out that some guy has been snooping in on their room (and it wasn’t krychek, whose name corrects to all caps in my phone, because i only speak of him with hate in my heart) but just some other similar looking guy. skinner says albert, you stay here, i’m going off. hopefully for some hospital violence. hospital violence ensues!!! and this time krychek IS there.

but the violence does not go in the direction i hoped for, which was for skinner to kick some ass. it's three on one, they beat him and leave him in the corner and take the tape!!!! noooooooo!! poor skinner, i was coming around to you.

also leaving this next part verbatim because it is funny:

"fucking krychek i hate everything about you and i hate your new slicked back greaser hair and i hope you trip and fall and all of your limbs fall off and the doctors wonder how they can even happen because they have never seen it before WHAT NOW HE’S RUNNING??? the car blew up before he ran away. and the folks he was running from SEE him running away so he literally can’t even do a good job at bailing"

(if you need a translation: krychek's fellow assassins stopped to grab some drinks, so he pocketed the cassette and left before their car blew up)

back at the greenhouse. our agents are looking for victor, who apparently died yesterday. and funeral man is here!!! they openly accuse him of killing victor. he does not deny this claim.

funeral man is going on about roswell, operation paperclip, and mengele. he’s going on about hybrid orchids and mulder realizes that victor must have been trying to create an alien-human hybrid. which would explain the smallpox vaccination scars in the alien bodies found in New Mexico. FUNERAL MAN. WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON??

he's on the side of whoever can solve his little riddles i guess

mulder is MAD his dad was involved with this, but scully says it can’t be true, because DNA wasn’t even a thing people knew of until 1944. i mean, they’re lying about a whole lot. why not lie about the timeline of DNA discovery, too?

funeral man says men like mr. mulder were instructed to gather genetic data on the general populace, and that his dad had objected strongly to its true purpose. allegedly this experiment was for post apocalyptic identification, which doesn't really make sense to be, but okay. hundreds of millions of americans had their info collected from smallpox vaccine data.

scully is saying that it’s all a lie, that he’s saying everything mulder wants to hear, and i'm agreeing with her. funeral man says “why would i lie to you?” um better question: what would you gain by telling the truth??

mulder flat out yells that she was abducted by aliens and this doesn’t go over well as you can probably guess. she is working overtime to NOT think about that. so she walks away from the whole thing.

leaving just the two conspirators. OH, listen to this: funeral man claims they took his sister as insurance because his father threatened to expose the project!! “you also threaten to expose the project. you’ve become your father” <- hmm. that is a bold claim. because mulder has never willingly engaged in the creation of alien-human hybrids. 

chat, do we believe him? i feel that samantha’s abduction being an act of random and horrific tragedy seems more likely. and possibly more poignant. 

krychek is on the phone with cig man. “i’m alive. isn’t that a surprise?” “yes, yes, good good good. where are you?” <- LMAOOOO king of playing it casual

“somewhere where you’ll never find me, you double crossing son of a bitch” hmmm. the double crosser gets double crossed. shocked pikachu face. he threatens to make cig man “famous”, which i wouldn't be opposed to, which is NOT the same as endorsing him or his actions. 

cig man says there is no deal to make regarding the files and the agent’s lives. oh, so he thinks he can just have both, i see how it is

very sudden cut to mulder at his mom’s house at 2 am. asking his mom if she ever had to choose a favorite child. she keeps denying and denying until:

“no. i couldn’t choose. it was your father’s choice. and i hated him for it. even in his grave i hate him still” OHHHH this is adding validity to the theory that funeral man was telling the TRUTH???? poor Samantha :(

wait this is SO sad. and to think of how harsh his dad was to him while he was alive. how he must have expected the absolute best from his son because he knows he chose him over his sister. and how the only consolation for having to make that choice is to expect his son to be Perfect. which could never happen. just leaving him in deep distress. man. that is truly messed up.

man. i feel like we need space for that revelation.

but cig man is at skinner’s office. lighting up. as usual. skinner says he has the tape in exchange for the safety of the agents, but cig man says he knows skinner is bluffing

HOLY FUCK: “you ever wondered what it would be like to, uh, die in a plane crash? of botulism? even a heart attack?” <- HUH???? his melodic cadence makes this even scarier. goodness that escalated quickly.

“i’m not finished yet” (skinner fetches Albert) ALBERT??? I LOVE HIM TOO MUCH FOR HIM TO BE AT THIS SCENE. GET HIM OUT OF HERE. KEEP HIM SAFE. OH: ALBERT CAN RECITE EVERYTHING FROM THE TAPE. 

albert please do not bring this risk upon yourself, i mumble to myself OH! he told 20 other people from the tribe. “so unless you kill every Navajo living in four states… that information is available with a simple phone call. welcome to the wonderful world of high technology” wow. skinner if you had access to the tech i know about i think you would be so pleased. or maybe not. regardless, a good play. just KEEP albert safe i am NOT messing around.

cig man gets scared and leaves. as he should!

mulder at the hospital. scully is sitting alone. NO??? NOT MELISSA??? 

no, it can't be true, but it is: melissa died in surgery.

they both agree they need to get back to work so they have something to keep them from going insane with grief. their whole exchange was very emotional and powerful, but i was too sad to make extensive notes, so i'll have to circle back to that someday.

and she says “i’ve heard the truth. now what i want are the answers”. he holds her while she sits and stares at her sister's empty hospital bed. 

NOOOOO. i am filled with such sadness. scully now has to live with this belief that her sister died for her, and that she didn’t get to say thank you. and i’m very sad because i liked melissa a lot and scully deserves no pain. and her poor mother... oh, there are real tears in my eyes while i type this.

and mulder, forced to know that his father chose him over his sister, that his father was involved in what he sought to destroy, that had his father picked any other line of work, he could have had a normal, happy childhood. what the fuck. this is sooo evil. i’m sad!!! yeah i’m crying about the damn alien show. so what!!! so what!!!

listen, just because an episode is sad, does not mean it wasn’t good. it was a very good episode. i’m just sad. sometimes multiple things can be true.

grief of our main agents and their families aside, my top concern is Albert. is he going to be safe and protected? can he continue to spread the oral tradition? maybe get it written down too, for extra insurance? typed up? saved? backed up? written in notebooks? stored in archives? is he even telling the TRUTH? do other Navajo men actually know to recite the files and how to decode them? that seems like it will take a very long time to learn.

my main takeaway from the episode is to not work for the government because they will ruin your life.

it was a good episode. a great episode, even. but I’m gonna need about 30 beach episodes to make up for it. and also for the og theme to come back because you can’t change that up on me once I’m in a pattern.