#i feel like i've been clogging up the tag enough today so this is the last one for the day but this has been a lot of fun y'all

[piratekane]

3 and/or 5 from the sentence game 👀💕

five: i hate seeing you like this

(takes place after this)

Ava pauses in the doorway, head against the solid wood and her arms crossed over her chest. The morning sun is filtering through the window and long glowing beams of light stretch out across the bed.

Bea turns over in the sheets, forehead wrinkled with some unknown thought. Ava wants to know what it is. She wants to coax Bea away and ask her what's going through her mind, what's bothering her, what can she do to make it better.

But she knows she needs to let Bea rest, that last night had been long. So she stands in the doorway and stares and wonders to herself, do you feel this too?

She's been feeling it for a while now - before the Alps, before the Vatican. This sliver of something that started like a soft drop in the center of her chest until it turned into a flood that seemed to press at the back of her teeth each time she went to open her mouth. But being here now, being the two who got out together, has brought it into sharp focus.

The sun changes, lifts a little higher in the sky, and touches the top of Bea's head and hair where it's strewn across the pillow. It looks like it's going to be a clear, crisp day today - she might be able to convince Bea to walk down to the bakery they found on their way into town and get a pain au chocolat or two before they go see that bar with the 'Help Wanted' sign on the small post outside.

A raspy, "you're awake" pulls her back into the moment.

Ava blinks, pushes off the door frame and takes a step forward. "Morning," she says quietly.

Bea, still blinking her way into consciousness, sits up slowly. The blanket pools at her waist and Ava has to purposefully look away, purposefully meet Bea's eyes and try not to waver. "How late is it?"

Ava smiles a little. "Not late. I was going to wake you up soon." Lie. "But you looked like you needed the sleep." Truth.

Bea's eyes cut over Ava's shoulder and there's a faint flush across her cheeks. She steels herself - Ava watches the way Bea's shoulders pull back and her jaw tightens and her chin lifts a little and Ava sighs - to say, "I didn't mean-"

"Don't apologize," Ava rushes out before Bea can finish. She sees the protest on Bea's tongue and takes a step forward, cutting her off again. "You don't... You don't need to apologize. We're... You're human, Bea. You're allowed to have a bad night." She takes another step forward, hesitant this time. "If you wanted to talk about it..."

Bea's jaw clicks again. "I'm fine."

"But if you weren't," Ava pushes. She's at the foot of the bed now. She sits, curling one leg up under the other. Her hand clenches into a fist instead of dropping over Bea's ankle. "You could talk to me. I meant what I said, Bea. We're in this together. You can count on me."

She must say it earnestly enough that it cuts through whatever embarrassment is building up inside of Bea. Because Bea smiles a little and the tension in her shoulders that seems to bleed up into her neck and down into her elbows eases. She softens and so does the knot of knowing something is happening inside Ava's chest.

"I know, Ava."

She's not done. "I want you to know that what I say next does not mean I think you're, like, weak or anything." Bea's shoulders start to tighten again and Ava does reach out this time, does curl her fingers around Bea's delicate ankle bone, squeezing tightly.

"No, just listen to me. I can be your shoulder to lean on. This?" She points a finger between them. "This is important. We're important. Bea." She waits until Bea looks at her. "You're important."

Bea opens her mouth to say something, but seems to think better of it, closing her mouth again. Her eyes cut away again but Ava can see their shine. So Ava looks down, trying to ease the tension. Her fingers dance across Bea's shin.

"I just hate seeing you like this," Ava continues softly. "Like... hiding yourself. From me."

There's a moment of quiet before Bea says her name quietly. She looks up and is struck again by the intensity that is Bea's full attention. She wants it all the time and doesn't know what to do if she had it.

"I'm not used to... telling people things. Like that," Bea adds, voice wavering just a little. "But you were... You made it easier for me. To not want to hide."

"Really?" she asks hopefully.

Bea leans closer, dropping her hand over Ava's, trapping it between her palm and the scratchy cotton sheet covering her leg. "Really."

Ava looks into Bea's eyes and thinks, even if you don't feel this, I'll feel it enough for the both of us.

She smiles crookedly and turns her hand over, palm to palm with Bea. "I was thinking we could do a tour of town and then check out the bar? Making drinks can't be that hard, right? You just pour and serve?" She doesn't wait for an answer, standing up and propping her hand up on her hip. "Maaaaybe get some pastry?"

"Of course," Bea says flatly.

Ava grins properly now. "Come on. You can get a plain croissant. Wouldn't that make you happy?" She laughs when Bea doesn't, dancing out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where she starts the dented kettle to make Bea a cup of tea. She hums happily. Last night had been dark clouds but the sun is shining this morning and Ava is going to make the most of it.

[railingsofsorrow]

𝙾𝙲𝚃. 25𝚝𝚑; 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘.

summary: iris's letter.

pairing: spencer reid x oc!iris valentia

w.c: 706

warnings/content: mentions of food poisoning, vomit and fainting; mentions of self medicating; mentions of Alzheimer's disease; angst (not much); fluff; “ODU” is the acronym for “Old Dominion University”.

A/N: LAST LETTER!! we are done with act 1, now we'll proceed with act 2. next chapters are going to be in narrative style.

navi

masterpost

series masterlist

whoever wants to be tagged for this fic, fill this out or dm me.

[letter 1] [letter 2] [letter 3] [letter 4] [letter 5] [letter 6] [letter 7] [letter 8] [letter 9]

October 25th.

Dear, Spencer.

My whole department fell in sick yesterday — including my students, barely anyone was spared. Some kind of food poisoning? I don't know, people started throwing up, passing out and whatnot. We didn't know what to do!

(Yes, this is how I start my letter. I had to vent to someone how weird this is!)

I immediately called 911 and the cafeteria became swarmed with EMT's. My first supposition was that something was wrong with the cafeteria food. I never eat there because I either bring my own food or... I just don't remember eating until I'm off to go home. So, I tested it, the cafeteria food. But no. Nothing was wrong. I still find it weird that this happened out of nowhere, but my colleagues think it wasn't anything serious.

ODU was on the news today. Same thing happened. I can't shake this off, it can't be a coincidence, can it?

Sorry, I needed to ramble to somebody.

Ah, Spencer. It's too late for that, I already care enough to worry. What other resources are you trying? I hope you are not self-medicating yourself, it's not good. You're not doing that, right?

I have a friend that I could recommend you. She's a neurologist so she could be more helpful — you've probably been to a lot of those, but she's really good.

Her name is Clare Thompson, her office is in Washington, DC at Georgetown. If you want, I can make an appointment for you, we're close friends. If not, then just ignore this. I'm not trying to push you into anything, I'm just concerned.

What you said reminded me of the concept “Athazagoraphobia”. I researched about it to include it in my MD thesis about Alzheimer's disease. It means exactly what you said: fear of forgetting something or someone, or being forgotten.

I relate to you on that. But I'm more afraid of being forgotten. Sometimes I think that if I don't put my mark in the world, then how will people remember me? Do you feel like that too?

I absolutely know what you mean about the dolls... They're creepy. I had a few when I was a child, I don't know where they disappeared to though, I think my mother donated them. Either way, I'm happy not knowing their whereabouts.

I am happy that your friends are threatening you to to go out more.

Yes, maybe he is sick. It's an option I've considered. But he usually sends an email letting me know he will miss class. Fabian is not the kind of student that misses class without a plausible reason. He's very dedicated and one of my top students.

Of course you'd take is as a challenge, Doctor Reid. I could tell you were the competitive type from the moment you told me you were a rebel as a kid (no, I'll never forget that, you book thief).

Oh, did you really like the book? I'm so glad. Yes! I have like 5 recommendations to you but I'll spare you two: After Dark and Sputnik Sweetheart. Tell me what you think afterwards.

Something reminded me of you today. I was grabbing my coffee and I guess I picked up the wrong order. Do you know why I think that? Because it was the sweetest beverage I've ever had. I could've dropped dead right there if I had taken another sip. Disgusting, really. My blood vessels were almost clogged up. The person left in a hurry and left their coffee right beside mine on the balcony. Oh! And guess what: it was written “Reid” in their cup. I know it is a common name, but it reminded me of you.

Don't forget to drink water and eat, Spencer. As always, be careful. Looking forward to hear from you soon! <3

Love,

Iris.

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @chayceschultz; @cultish-corner

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[trobed303]

I Wanna Hold Your Hand

For Trobed week, organised by @trobedzone. I started writing this on my break at work (on a wake-night) and finished it in a exhaustion-fueled delirium on the way home from said wake-night so please excuse how bad it is or any typos but I really wanted to participate. Thanks so much for tagging me!

I would put this under a read more so it wasn't clogging up people's dash but idk how to do that on mobile so I've tagged it #long post. Feel free to block the tag if you don't want to see this.

-------

"... So it's a prequel, but it's actually set ten years after the first Kickpuncher."

"So how is it a prequel if its after the first one? Won't it just be a sequel?"

"Well, my theory is that Kickpuncher's love interest is actually from the future and travelled back in time in the original movie in order to make sure the events of the first Kickpuncher happen, and the prequel is why."

"Sounds stupid. I'm in."

Abed's lips quirked up in a small smile, and he turned to his right where Troy had been walking beside him, holding one hand out and one to his chest in preparation for their special high five. But Troy wasn't there anymore. Abed's smile turned to a frown as he looked around, but he couldn't see any sign of the yellow sweater Troy was wearing today, despite how easy it should have been for him to pick the colour out amongst the other students around him.

He saw a flash of yellow, but before he could take a step towards it he realised it was just a girl in a yellow t-shirt.

He tried to listen for Troy's voice, but there were a lot of students around. It was between lesson times after all and the crowd was moving in all different directions as students weaved between each other to get to their next classes. And they were all having their own conversation about all sorts of different thing.

"She said she was going to Ralph's tomorrow but Ralph said--"

"I have no idea, I swear I haven't learned a thing all semest--"

"My dad is going to kill me if he sees how much I spent on--"

"Why are you being so snappy toda--"

"Did you see the new episode? It was awesome!"

"Are we going to Starbucks after cla--" 

Abed winced as all the sounds of conversations and squeaky shoes on hard floors seemed to get louder and louder, the students around him seemed to be closing in more, leaving him with no space around him and leading to a few bumping into him now that he was no longer moving with them. He tried to take a few deep breaths, but he already knew that logically he was too overwhelmed for that to work.

Abed focused his attention on the notice board on the wall opposite him, then quickly made his way over to it, hoping to just pretend to look at the board until either Troy found him or the hallway empties enough for him to catch his breath.

It had a flyer for a new dance the Dean was putting on, but he couldn't quite make out what excuse the Dean had come up with this time. There were also flyers for extracurricular activities like lessons for several different musical instruments. There were also posters for dance lessons, acting classes, a sign-up sheet for the school play and another one for Glee Club. Abed couldn't make out the other papers taped and stapled to the board. They were all too brightly coloured and loud.

This isn't helping.

Instead, Abed turned so his back was against the wall and sunk down until he was sat on the floor with his head on his knees and his arms wrapped around them. It was easy like this to block his ears with his biceps, keep his eyes closed, and make himself as small as possible in the hopes that people stopped banging into him.

He wondered where Troy was again. It was always easier walking through the crowds with Troy because they had the best conversation, about topics that actually interested Abed. It was easy to just focus on that - focus on Troy - and not the hundreds of other people at this school who all seemed to have classes in 50 different directions with every route starting from this one hallway.

Just another three minutes, then everyone will be in class. Abed thought to himself as he rocked slightly in an attempt to soothe himself. He thought about trying to stand and power through the overstimulation, to at least get outside, but he would have to see everyone and his dad said it was too weird to walk around with his hands over his ears so he'd have to hear them all too, and it was all just too much.

Abed rarely cried, but when he was overwhelmed his eyes would sometimes well up, even if Abed didn't understand what good it would do. It happened now, and Abed buried his head deeper against his knees in the hopes that no one would notice. He could still hear the mean kids from his high school teasing him about it.

"Look! The alien's leaking!" Brent would laugh, pointing at the tear tracks down Abed's face.

"Its trying to mimick a sad human to make us feel sorry for it so we'll let our guard down!" One of Brent's lackeys would pipe up. Abed didn't care enough to remember his name. It didn't matter anyway, none or the others had personalities of their own, they were all just extentions of Brent.

He wondered if Troy was like Brent in high school. He knew Troy was a jock, and he wasn't as thoughtful and sweet as he is now, but was he bad enough that he would have called Abed an alien because he didn't understand social cues? Would he make fun of him for crying just because daily life was sometimes too much?

"Abed?" He heard a voice above him say; Troy's voice.

Looks like he was going to find out. This was the first time Troy had seen him this overwhelmed, and Abed found his breath halting as he realised the significance. If he looked up and Troy saw him crying, and the other laughed, Abed wasn't sure they could still be friends. At least not as close as they were. There would always be a small part of Abed that would be worried Troy will judge him or laugh at him for his neurodivergency.

So he kept his head down and tried to discreetly wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his hoodie. Troy was his first real friend, and he wasn't ready to have that shattered yet.

Before he could deem his face dry enough to face looking up at his first and only best friend, he heard Troy's sneaker squeak slightly against the lino as he pivoted. For a moment he thought Troy had gotten sick of waiting for him to answer and was going to walk off, but instead Abed heard his backpack hit the floor - it wasn't a harsh sound, Abed knew Troy only kept a cushion in there for when he wanted to take a nap somewhere - then felt Troy drop too, to sit on the ground beside Abed. Not close enough to touch him, but close enough that he could feel Troy's body heat gently warm his right side.

"Abed? Are you okay?" Troy asked quietly, and though Abed will always be the first to admit he's not great at picking up tone, he was pretty sure he heard concern in Troy's words.

"Where'd you go?" He asked quietly.

"Just to the vending machine... What's wrong?"

"Too much..." Abed mumbled, hoping Troy would understand but not really expecting him to. In fact, he was already trying to come up with a way to explain what he meant in a way Troy would understand, but his mind felt fuzzy, like TV static, and he wasn't sure how to phrase it right.

He didn't have to though. Troy didn't ask about it.

"You think you can get to class?" He asked instead. "You know what Senior Chang is like when someone's late."

Abed picked his head up. The hallways were a little less crowded, but it was still loud and too much. He dropped his head again and shook it against his knees to indicate that, no, he didn't think he could get to class.

"Is it because there's too much going on?" Troy asked quietly, like he didn't want anyone to overhear, and Abed was grateful for that. He nodded against his knees.

Troy was quiet for a moment, and the only thing that stopped him from having to look up and make sure he was still there was the warmth he could still feel radiating from Troy's arm where it was barely an inch from Abed's. Troy fidgeted a little beside him, and Abed was about to tell him to just get himself to class so Chang wouldn't be mad at him, that Abed could handle the consequences alone, but Troy spoke again before he could.

"You were okay a minute ago... What happened? Did someone say something to you?" He asked quietly, but there was a bite in his voice.

"Are you mad?" He mumbled.

"At you? No." Troy assured him. "But if someone said something to make you sad I'm mad at them. Who was it?"

Abed shook his head a little and curled into himself tighter. "No one said anything."

"Then what happened?"

"You were gone." Abed answered before the voice in his head that sounded a little too much like his father could tell him to stop, that he was being too clingy and Troy was going to get creeped out and stop spending time with him.

He had already started now, so he figured he may as well explain himself.

"Its easier... with you. Because we talk and I can just focus on our conversation and follow what you do. I don't have to look around because people always move out of your way anyway and if I'm next to you they move for me too. But then you were gone and I noticed how many people there were and I could hear all of them talking at once and..." He was over explaining, he knew that, so he made himself stop before he could embarrass himself in front of Troy any worse.

"So... Walking with me helps?" Troy asked, and Abed nodded again.

He felt Troy shift again and winced when he heard Troy stand up and pick up his backpack again, assuming he was going to just leave him there.

"Come on, buddy." Troy prompted gently from in front of him, and Abed picked his head up. The first thing he saw was Troy's hand, palm up, held out for him to take. His eyes trailed from his hand up his arm covered by that baggy thin sweater, then finally up to his face. He was smiling a little, but his brow was also pinched, like it was a sad smile.

Abed took his hand and allowed Troy to gently pull him up from the floor. As soon as he was upright Abed looked around again and let out a sound he could only accurately describe as a small whimper. The hallway wasn't clear enough yet.

"Its going to be okay, I'm right here." Troy promised, not yet letting go of Abed's hand. "Don't look around, I'll lead you."

Abed dragged his attention away from the people around them and instead focused on Troy's face. His smile looked more happy now, the crease between his eyebrows gone and his bright white teeth showing.

"So why do you think she needs to go to the past to make sure Kickpuncher 1 happens?"

It took a moment for Abed to remember what Troy was referring to, but when he did, he went into a complicated explanation about the antagonist's great grandson and how he would be able to change the past using the technology his grandfather had started working on before Kickpuncher killed him in the first movie.

By the time he'd finished explaining it and gotten on "Ohhh.... That actually sounds kinda cool." from Troy, he was being nudged into his seat in Spanish class.

Troy kept hold of his hand for another moment while Abed looked around and processed where they were, waiting for Abed to let go first. Once he did, Troy gave him another smile and walked to his own seat, managing to sit down just a second before Chang entered the room.

It became a habit after that. Troy would hold Abed's hand in busy hallways and talk to him about whatever Abed wanted.

It helped.

But repeating Troy's words in his head helped more.

"It's going to be okay, I'm right here."

[seulira]

Okay I might get shit on for this but as an autistic person I really don't like tone tags.

Cut it bc it got pretty long, so feel free to read if you want!

I feel like 90% of their use can be achieved with emojis, punctuation, or a combination of both and it's frustrating to have to constantly refer back to a list of them after the message you've already read and mentally assigned a tone to. I've had enough experiences now where I'm able to recognize that someone is being a dickhead and misusing a tag intentionally that i has me second-guessing every message I receive with a tone tag attached.

I think a lot of autistic people, adults especially, are already used to the second-guessing thing when it comes to sincerity but it's SO MUCH WORSE when a tool originally designed to help is rendered useless by a handful of people. And yeah, it sucks and we should just ignore those people, right? Except we can't, because it taints every interaction. "that skirt is adorable, where'd you get it? /g"

"Genuinely that skirt is adorable! Where'd you get it?"

The second feels... safer somehow. I know typing like the first is really popular, and tone tags help differentiate what you mean when you don't use punctuation/grammar stuff, but the sentence has already been read as flat and possibly sarcastic before we ever get to the /g.

This isn't to suggest that we should all type like robots with strictly perfect grammar and punctuation, but certain punctuation gets the tone across SO MUCH MORE EFFICIENTLY than tone tags!

Italics for emphasis have often been used to indicate sarcasm, which is, I think, one of the first tone tags to pop up. It makes sense, as sarcasm is extremely difficult to indicate over text, but we run into the same problem as before.

"yeah you're completely worthless and she was totally right about everything /s"

"yeah you're completely worthless and she was totally right about everything"

The first one gets automatically read in a flat, serious tone because the tag is attached to the end. The reader has an opinion formed about how the sentence sounds before they even get to that point, and they're probably gonna be hurt, even after seeing the tag. The second, with the overuse of italics, suggests a dramatic reading style, allowing emphasis in enough for the reader to understand that there's a joke being made here, and to not take it seriously.

One example I saw today (and the one that finally kickstarted this post) was a kid in this server I'm in made some sort of dumb pun and another member went "I'm gonna break your legs /hj". The first kid was clearly uncomfortable and the second got mad about it because "I said /hj".

First, if you aren't at a level of comfort/familiarity with someone in which they couldn't tell you were joking about that, you don't need to be joking about that with them. You need to re-assess your boundaries with that person. And before you go "Oh well that's how I talk to everyone", consider why you talk to everyone like that and re-assess your boundaries overall.

Second, that wasn't even the correct usage of the tag! /hj is "half-joking", which is often interchangeable with /lh, or "lighthearted". That kind of joke is by no means lighthearted, and if you meant it only as a "half joke" then where does the part where you're not joking come in? The kid who made the joke also stated they were neurodivergent, which was even more frustrating.

It's good that more tools are being normalized for use of neurodivergent folks, but I don't think this is a good tool. Too many tags are hyper-specific to rare scenarios to the point they just clog up pinned definition lists (the server I was talking about has a pinned list of 48 tags. Half of which meant the same thing) and every single tag would have a stronger effect if the writer just utilized some punctuation.

Obviously I know no servers are just gonna completely abandon their lists and I doubt anyone's gonna second guess using them because of me-- I just needed to get my opinion out into the void.