#is this a healthy thing to ruminate on? No

[sizzleissues]

in the pursuit of not sounding crazy - we made a deranged noise. Pack it up boys, they all think we’re psychotic now. Time to go home. Maybe next time your love won’t make someone feel bad - maybe try not crying. I haven’t seen normal people but damn - sure is probably real if I were to watch it

[batsplat]

hello, i have a question. what is the difference betwwen a hard and a dangerous racer? is there some sort of characteristics like how succesful a racer is or is more of a "a dangerous racer races on the limit and that's dangerous. a hard racer races on the limit but. its just a hard racer". thank you for answering!

completely in the eye of the beholder, I'm afraid. it's a perpetual debate, and one where everyone draws the line differently... very much a case of one man's dangerous manoeuvre is another one's hard but fair overtake... that being said! I'll have a go at coming up with a general framework with which people assess this stuff

let's bring in two strawmen, which feels like the most direct way to illustrate the possible stances you can take on this debate. to be clear, nobody really fits neatly in either ideological category - but, well, these are pretty much the two most extreme positions anyone could have:

when people are describing something as 'hard racing' (as opposed to... idk, 'clean' racing), they are usually talking about a) contact between the two bikes, and/or b) an action that forces the other bike to take evasive action. what constitutes forcing evasive action? well, this is all very nebulous and hard to define - there's crossing another rider's racing line, making them pick up the bike mid-corner, forcing them wide/off-track, not yielding in situations where one of you will have to yield to avoid a crash... but this is always an assessment that will depend on the specific circumstances. not every block pass is considered hard racing, for instance, even though you are quite literally 'blocking' the other bike. contact is the more straightforward one... if you initiate a move that leads to contact, then most people would agree this is 'hard' racing

so say you are in the 'A' camp. according to this line of thinking, pretty much every contact is 'dangerous' riding and should not be allowed. here's what gibernau said about jerez 2005, included in the sete post:

let's not discuss the merits of the jerez 2005 move specifically here - this is an expression of a broader ideological position. "this is not a contact sport" "it's not about hitting another guy"... so, according to this stance, actions that knowingly result in contact should not be acceptable and as a result need to be penalised. taken to the logical extreme, any and all 'hard racing' is dangerous

let's go to the other extreme, 'B'. let's say you're very pro-hard racing, to the point where you think that contact is more than fine and that it is unreasonable to call it 'dangerous'. sure, of course it is dangerous, but inherently all motorcycle racing has a lot of risk attached. racing that involves contact is basically acceptable. even within this extreme, my lovely venn diagram allows for some actual 'dangerous' riding - either behaviour that is wholly irresponsible during races... or stuff that doesn't count as hard racing because it's not 'racing'. here are some examples:

stuff that happens during races but is like... egregious misbehaviour. cf romano fenati pulling a rival's brake lever during a race - obviously dangerous and no longer really exists within the confines of actual racing

in either races or non-race sessions - not following proper safety procedures like for instance ignoring yellow flags. again, should be pretty obvious why that's dangerous

poor behaviour in non-race sessions,the general tag for not exhibiting appropriate care, awareness for your environment, all that stuff... the extreme example is marc barrelling into the back of another rider after the chequered flag had been waved in friday practise at phillip island 2011 (more on that here). it's also things like faffing about on the racing line, see the pecco mugello dramatics

so, yes, everyone will agree that there's some stuff that counts as 'dangerous riding' that's distinct from 'hard racing' just because it's not actual racing. that's the most straightforward stuff... but yeah, anyway, those are basically the two extreme positions you can take. you can say that all contact is bad and dangerous, that any time you're forcing another rider to take evasive action and are making a pass that isn't 1000% clean, you are putting others at unnecessary risk. or, you can say, hey, everything goes, rubbing is racing on steroids - sure, there's a small category of things that aren't acceptable, mainly stuff that isn't actually racing, but otherwise you should be allowed to brute force yourself past riders whenever you please

obviously, they're strawmen for a reason. basically nobody holds either of these positions in their entirety - and in race situations, there's always going to be actions that are seen as hard racing by some and as dangerous by others. so, unfortunately, we're going to have to dig a little deeper here, and figure out by what metrics people draw the line between hard and dangerous. let's... hey, how about we bring in casey stoner, just this once. as a treat. here's what he said after laguna '08:

“I’ve been in hard racing all my life, some very aggressive racing, but today was a little bit too much. I nearly went in the gravel so many times and I don’t think it was necessary.”

hard racing? casey's done that before. some very aggressive racing? no issue. but what valentino did at laguna was "a little bit too much" and not "necessary". the specific thing casey cites is nearly going into the gravel - and indeed, forcing other riders wide/off-track is one of the types of racing behaviour that most finely straddles the line between 'hard' and 'dangerous'. for other examples, see suzuka 2001 in which biaggi forced valentino off-track and valentino flipped him off when he eventually got past (a few more details here), qatar 2012 where marc forced luthi off-track and got slapped after the race (here) and sepang 2015, where... uh. you know. or how about argentina 2018 where... look, I think you get the point - plenty of controversy comes from forcing your opponent's bike into places where it's simply not supposed to be

while we're at it, let's throw in a little excerpt from casey's autobiography about the race:

A lot of it was fair racing, he was out-braking me on the inside and riding better than me around a lot of the track. If it had all been like that I would cop it sweet. But a couple of moves off camera added to my frustration. I risked running off the track, and racing at the limits like that as we were I even became worried about my safety.

(does have to be said that the pair of them spend... relatively little time off-camera, never when the bikes seem to be particularly close - but of course the problem this statement creates is that by definition you can't judge any footage you don't have access to)

so, let's strip away the details and think about what casey is actually talking about here. it's a risk/reward calculation. this is what's at the heart of this riding standards debate: what level of risk is acceptable for what level of reward? there are situations in which there is inherently a higher level of risk in a way that isn't caused by either party - influenced by the circuit layout, what the weather is like, how hard you're both pushing aka how much on the 'limit' you are, and so on. but even if that risk isn't your 'fault', if you are riding at very high speeds on a dangerous track, you can still be considered a dangerous rider if you're not exercising appropriate levels of caution

so, let's break it down even further and try and come up with some basic criteria by which people judge whether a specific move is 'hard' or 'dangerous'. how about this: (1) does the action have a reasonable chance of coming off, (2) is the risk you're taking proportionate to the reward, and (3) is the move likely to cause serious harm to you or the other rider. let's take them one by one

listen, it needs to be plausible that you're going to be able to pull this move off. if you're firing the bike from fifty miles back into a gap that doesn't exist, then this is by definition an unnecessary risk. you are not going to do yourself any good and you are also not going to do the other rider any good. (sometimes it might be in your interest to crash the other rider out so you might as well, but unsurprisingly this is frowned upon. see the 1998 250cc title decider.) obviously, this is going to be affected by your skill level - if you're a mid rider, there will be fewer moves that are 'plausible' for you than for the best riders

this is basically the common sense metric. if you are riding in a pack, make sure to keep in mind that crashing in this situation could get ugly. if you are fighting for p5, maybe a different approach is fitting than fighting for p1. if you can make an overtake a lap later as long as you're patient, in a way that's a lot safer than doing it now, perhaps just do that instead. don't be silly in the wet! this comes down to stakes, whether it's worth it, how likely the move is to succeed... and also what the consequences would be if you got it wrong, for both yourself and other riders. you're making an overall judgement based on all of those factors... sometimes you need to take risk, but it's better to make sure that risk is reasonably sensible

however high the potential rewards are, there's a certain level of risk that is no longer acceptable, where the 'risk/reward calculation' stuff has to be thrown out of the window because the reward no longer matters. this is basically the catch-all for 'wholly irresponsible riding' - anything that's just going too far

so, uh. obviously everything described above is super subjective... but that's what people are judging in my opinion, this is the standards they are using in their head to determine where they draw the line. so, as an example, to bring back the stuff from this post about the inter-alien ideological differences:

and again, this is also what the debate after aragon 2013 was about:

if you think aragon 2013 is unacceptable to the point of being dangerous, then you probably take quite a hard line view and think pretty much any action that could lead to contact needs to be stamped down on. while that contact did have unpleasant consequences for the other party (dani wasn't able to walk for several days and his title bid was basically over), it is perhaps a little worse than could have been reasonably expected in that situation. in that sense, there's a bit of surface level similarity with jerez 2005... there, valentino made the pass for the win at the last corner, knowing he would probably bump into sete while doing so. neither rider is knocked off their bike (though sete has to leave the track) and it is at a slow corner, with relatively 'light' contact. unfortunately, as a result of where valentino's bike impacted sete's body and sete's preexisting shoulder issues, it ended up injuring sete (see here for valentino learning of this perhaps a little later than was ideal and only after he'd taken the piss out of sete for dramatically clutching his arm). at aragon 2013, marc was harrying dani and sticking very close to his rear tyre as he applied pressure to his teammate before he made a small misjudgement, getting his braking a little wrong and clipping the back of dani's bike. he happened to cut a crucial wire in the process, causing dani to highside a few moments later

these aren't equivalent situations and each have their own risk/reward profile. but the basic point is this: inviting contact with another rider will always generate more risk, and can always have unintended consequences... even when the action is relatively innocuous and the rider would not have expected this outcome. if you are in the 'all passes should be clean passes' school, this risk is fundamentally unacceptable. even trickier - what if contact is made as a result of a move you initiated but the other rider could have avoided? of course, you started it, but they could have yielded... and maybe they should have, maybe that would have been the wise, the sensible thing to do in that situation. it's always important to remember that at least two riders are involved in all these situations - and there are many cases where contact and/or crashing is not 100% the fault of any one party. so, for instance, there are several moments in laguna 2008 that are so risky in part because casey is also refusing to yield. that's not to necessarily imply any blame or fault! of course, it might not be ideal for the most aggressive riders being able to bully everyone else as they please because they know they can generally rely on everyone else being more sensible and yielding. but the differing outcomes resulting from the choices made by the 'other' rider will always help influence perception of any race situation - a move that is seen as 'hard but fair' might have been seen as considerably more dangerous if the other party hadn't yielded

and yes... yes, there is absolutely a question of your success rate. this links back to point (1) - is the move plausible? there are moves that aren't really considered examples of 'hard racing' and certainly not dangerous... because they worked. take valentino's last corner move at catalunya 2009, at a corner where you don't traditionally overtake (remember, before the race jorge was going around tempting fate by saying that if you're ahead by that point you're sorted). sure, he goes for a gap that exists, but it could easily have gone wrong - and if a lot of other riders had tried that, then it would have. how do you think yamaha would have felt if valentino had taken both yamaha riders out at the very end of the race to allow ducati to claim an unlikely victory and an increased championship lead? here's another one: misano 2017 and marc making a last lap move in treacherous conditions to snatch the win. no contact required to make that risky as shit - and if stuff like that goes wrong too often they call you an idiot at best and dangerous at worst. of course, both valentino and marc have had moments where they very much did not pull off moves they were intending, which is how we get ambition outweighing talent and 'I hope he can learn from this one and improve for the future', among other hits. but, relative to the amount of risk they're regularly taking in their racing, they get a lot of reward for their troubles... because they're very good at what they do. the risk/reward calculation is one that they... uh, can both be very adept at, but it's also one that's fundamentally easier when you're skilled enough to pull off a lot of moves that would be beyond the capabilities of other riders. it's when you don't know how to judge your moments, when you keep trying moves that you can't pull off - that's where other riders will start having a problem with you

which is where we get to reputation! how different incidents are judged will also depend on the existing reputations of the riders involved and whether they are seen as 'fair' racers or not (an even more nebulous term, if possible), versus hard racers, dangerous racers... often, this is a question of quantity too - with certain riders on the grid, you will notice they're involved in controversial incidents disproportionately often. how likely people are to pay you the benefit of the doubt... how likely they are to believe you as to what your intent was in a certain situation, perhaps the most nebulous concept of them all. 'hard' and 'dangerous' aren't assessments that are made in isolation, and how severely riders are judged will often depend on their pasts and how those pasts are perceived by others

where you get into really sticky territory is... okay, both valentino and marc have more often than not (arguably) been able to stay on the right side of 'the line', where their moves might be hard but aren't putting anyone else in active danger - but that's because they are at least theoretically capable of exhibiting a good sense of judgement and are also good at what they're doing, as covered above. here's a question: do they bear any responsibility for when younger and/or worse riders copy their moves and/or general approach to racing, with worse consequences? when they have been criticised, when they are called dangerous, at times it's not just what they're doing in the moment... it's what they're inspiring. so you've got stuff like this from sete:

even more drastically than that, after the death of a fifteen year old rider in supersport in 2021, one of his fellow rider said this about marc (which marc unsurprisingly strongly pushed back on):

(just worth remembering, this is a rider who did walk away from the sport as a result and was clearly deeply affected by what happened - the marc comments were part of a longer statement that got overshadowed by this part and the resulting controversy)

setting aside the merits or lack thereof of these specific assertions, what of the general questions they raise... can you be a dangerous rider in an indirect fashion like this, by the very nature of your legacy? are riders who helped bring about a more aggressive baseline standard of racing in any way responsible for anything that happens as a result of this standard? (even worse, there's a line of succession here - after all, who was marc's biggest inspiration?) or does individual responsibility reign supreme here? athletes are by design only interested in their own successes, aren't they - and 'legacy' is so abstract, how can anyone know how others will be influenced by what they do? how can we even begin to assess how big an influence individual riders really are? let's not forget that there will be other factors - riders in the past have discussed how particular characteristics of the moto2 class have bred more aggressive racing, or the influence of the size of motogp bikes, or how difficult it is these days to overtake in a completely 'clean' manner, or the rules themselves and to what extent they have actually been enforced etc etc... maybe there's also an element of people focusing on the easiest, most visible explanation in the form of star riders, without giving proper consideration to the underlying factors that will influence an era's style of riding. again, how you feel about all of this will vary from person to person - but part of the hard vs dangerous debate is inherently forward-looking. and it's hardly just legacy... your hard/dangerous moves may also be setting a precedent in the present. to what extent is it the duty of riders to worry about that?

so then, that's what I've got. how you draw the distinction between hard racing and dangerous riding will come down to your individual ideological position and what you think racing even entails. do you think all contact is objectionable? do you think only the most extreme of transgressions - most of which don't qualify as 'racing' per se - should be labelled dangerous? somewhere in between? everyone will draw the line in a different place, according to the situation and their individual biases and understanding of events. it comes down, generally speaking, to how you judge the risks and rewards of a certain move, whether you think what a rider attempted was 'worth' it. all of which depends on whether the rider could realistically have managed whatever action they were attempting, whether the potential rewards were proportionate to the risks, or whether the whole thing was just too flat out dangerous to ever be worth it... of course, none of these are objective standards by which you can assess the racing, but they should give you a rough indication of what people are even talking about when they're distinguishing between hard and dangerous racing. riders as individuals are also far from consistent in their stances (surely not!) so you do have to play it by ear a lot of the times... and while there are plenty incidents where the majority can agree whether it is 'hard' or 'dangerous', there are plenty more where you're going to get a lot of contradictory opinions. no definitive answers here - unfortunately a lot of the time you'll just have to make your own mind up

[pussyluvr2000]

when I have time to paint again I am going to pop the fuck off. so many new ideas. mark my words.

[keeps-ache]

ohh crisis galore

[didsomeonesayventus]

on one hand I get no joy from KH fanfic anymore on the other oneshot of Sora finding out Young Xehanort made it to Squareville and pinning him for some questions on what the he*k is going on

[none-tadashi-left-hiro]

oh it’s possible I am experiencing dissociation

[nineblackberries]

people who are constantly thinking of ways to hex people they think have wronged them are weird as fuck imo. go do something productive with your anger. learn to hunt or something, stop trying to curse people it's weird

[tetedurfarm]

get started in meat rabbits masterpost!

yesterday i accidentally hijacked a friend's post and got way more engagement than i expected, which is both amazing and exhausting. so today i present to you: a big post full of resources and answers to the most common questions i've been getting! please refer to this now before dming me with questions <3

information below the cut!

why rabbits?

because they're one of (and in my opinion, THE,) best small-scale meat animal out there. they are relatively small, extremely quiet, can live in cages and therefore do not take up much space, and have a higher feed conversion rate (meaning they make more meat per lb of feed) than chickens, and their poop is AMAZING for gardening! in the footprint of a washer and dryer you can have a trio of breeding animals and space for growing out their litters if you use stacking cages. you just can't beat that.

what do they taste like?

like chicken or turkey. domestic rabbit meat is a very mild, white meat, and can be substituted for chicken in almost every meal. most of my rabbit i grind into mince and use it in place of ground beef. my rabbits, at least, get enough fat to make it unnecessary to cut the mince with pork or beef fat, so even the burgers are really juicy!

will you sell me some meat?

unfortunately in the state of washington it is illegal to sell meat that has been processed at home. at best i could sell you a whole rabbit but you'd have to butcher it yourself.

how much do they cost?

this depends heavily on where you live, though imo they have a fairly low upfront cost relative to other livestock. your biggest upfront expensive will be cages, though you can find good deals on cages and other equipment at livestock auctions/swaps and craiglist/kijiji/similar. the rabbits themselves can be anywhere from free to $100+, though i personally would not pay more than $30-$35 USD for a meat animal (but again, your average prices may vary.) after that, it's all in the price of feed.

feed costs vary from area to area and brand to brand - generally a locally milled feed will be a bit more cost-effective but they can also be lower quality so do your research. depending on your area, you can also feed rabbits partially or even completely on forage or pasture, just make sure you keep an eye on your parasite loads and weights to ensure they are eating enough.

this is a good site that discusses rabbit safe forage: https://riseandshinerabbitry.com/2012/02/26/safe-food-list-for-rabbits/

and this is a good site discussing hay: https://hoppyharlequinsrabbitry.weebly.com/hay-chart.html

this page is focused on other larger livestock but is a decent basic rundown on reading a feed lablel: https://s3.wp.wsu.edu/uploads/sites/2070/2023/03/FS138E_Reading-a-Feed-Tag.pdf

and a basic overview of rabbit nutrition: https://www.merckvetmanual.com/exotic-and-laboratory-animals/rabbits/nutrition-of-rabbits#Pelleted-Diets_v54343534

i do not personally believe that feeding hay is necessary for rabbits to be healthy, which is contrary to what most of you may have heard from online sources. we'll talk about that in a minute. all commercially-available pelleted rabbit feets are made with hay, and the 'long-stem' thing you read about is based on studies in ruminant animals that DO need a 'grass mat' to digest properly...but rabbits are not ruminants. they chew up their hay into fine dust, which is basically what pellets are anyway.

what other equipment do i need?

obviously, your first step should be cages. i prefer cages that are either 24x24 or 30x30 inches depending on the size of the rabbit. you generally want a cage big enough for the animal to lay flat on its belly with its legs out and not touch at least one of the sides (i prefer them to be able to touch none,) and tall enough that they can sit up comfortably. i like to err on the side of larger for breeding does, since their nestbox will take up floor space for a few weeks, and the kits need room to run around and grow before they are weaned. weaned kits need a larger cage or hutch to grow out in until they are eating size.

these cages can be wire bottomed or solid bottomed, just be aware of the hygiene differences between these styles of cages. wire cages are not evil, and will not harm a rabbit's feet provided it has proper density of fur. you can avoid foot problems by buying and breeding rabbits with well-furred feet.

other necessary equipment includes: feeders (j-feefers or pro-b feeders are my favourites), some way to provide water such as bottles, crocks, or an automatic watering system, a hay rack if you want to provide hay, grooming tools such as combs and brushes (if applicable; most rabbits will not need much grooming,) nail clippers, a first-aid kit containing things such as scissors, vet wrap, antibiotic gels and drops, saline solution, fenbendazole (brand name panacur, a dewormer,) gas medications such as simethicone/gas-x, critical care (a specially formulated powdered feed that you can mix into a gruel and syringe feed rabbits that won't eat on their own,) probiotic powder, electrolyte powder, and of course, toys!

make sure any provided toys are edible (so avoid plastic,) and will not get turned into mush and cause dirty mats in the cage when peed on. toilet paper and paper towel tubes are great, as are just chunks of untreated lumber offcuts, wooden baby blocks, or soda boxes. if you have some splurging money, bird toy websites like abirdtoy.com have amazing selections of things that rabbits love destroying. i recommend the refillable skewers!

what about vet care?

this is a fairly divisive topic. most vets do not know much about rabbits, and those that do are typically operating on outdated or simply untrue information that aligns with animal rights groups. therefore, a lot of meat and show breeders do not trust or use vets unless the situations are dire or there is disease testing to be done, and then generally we'll go to our state's ag exstension or college lab. i don't want to come off as anti-vet, i am far from it. but i and most people i know have not had good experiences with vets treating rabbits.

in general, exotic animal vet care (and yes, rabbits are considered exotic pets,) is extremely cost-prohibitive in general, much less when you have multiple animals. like most farmers, rabbit breeders typically handle basic medical situations ourselves.

medirabbit is a great resource for rabbit medical information including illnesses and medication dosages: https://www.medirabbit.com/

how many rabbits do i need?

the average litter size is between 5 and 8 kits, and rabbits can breed montly (though i recommend giving the girls breaks between litters depending on how they kept condition.) a trio of one buck and two does can produce a very good amount of meat for a one or two person household. my spouse and i lived on five or six litters a year for a very long time, using rabbit as our primary meat source!

do they need friends?

no. despite what house rabbit circles tell you, rabbits do NOT need companions and in fact having cagemates can stress them out unnecessarily. rabbits live in warrens in the wild, yes, but that is a survival tactic and the warrens are usually very violent and only work because they can run away when they need to. in capitivity, rabbits that are cohabitated can and commonly will KILL one another. it is much safer and less stressful to keep rabbits in their own spaces. i promise they won't mind.

rabbit colonies, where they are raised together in more 'natural' systems, are becoming very popular with homesteading circles but you should not jump into colonies as your first way to keep rabbits. they require just as much if not even more time and effort to manage than your typical cage setup. plus, you have to have the space to do that, which not everyone has.

can you help me find rabbits?

maybe! if you live in the united states and are comfortable sharing your local craigslist, i can take a look and link you to any rabbits or equipment i think would be worth your time. if you are local to me in western washington's i-5 corridor counties, i may have rabbits i can sell you for the price of feed and gas, but that depends on availability. if you are on the olympic peninsula in kitsam, jefferson, or clallam counties, hit up my buddy ren @buttonbuckfarm for similar services.

arent't they really fragile?

yes and no. rabbits are prey animals with an extremely specialised digestive system. if you are familiar with horses...same deal. if a rabbit stops eating, it will die, and they love bloating/colicking just like horses. there are also a few diseases that are common in rabbits that you should keep an eye out for, especially if you pasture or forage raise.

that being said, rabbits are not made of glass. you can flip them, you can poke them, prod them, put them in a car, drive them across the country, and squish them into weird shapes on a show table. as long as you take precautions during stressful situations and desensitise them to things like handling and transport early, they're shockingly physically hardy despite their sensitive guts.

i'm scared to kill them...what if i mess up?

it's perfectly understandable to fear the end of the process of raising rabbits. and accidents do happen. slaughter is a skill that must be practiced, and maybe you can take solace in knowing that we have all messed one up at some point or another. when this happens, the only thing you can do is try again as quickly as you can until you can confirm the animal is dead. and then take a minute to decompress.

it comes easy to me, but i know that is not true for everyone. but i am a firm believer that if you are going to eat meat, you should know where it comes from and how it gets to your plate. the best thing we can do for our food is to give it a wonderful life, kill as kindly as we can, and use as much of it as we are able.

here is the AVMA's list of approved humane slaughter methods: https://www.avma.org/sites/default/files/2020-02/Guidelines-on-Euthanasia-2020.pdf

and you can find pretty good videos of the various methods demonstrated on rabbits specifically on youtube:

broomstick, choke chain, bunny ballista, hopper popper

please be aware that the above videos show animals being killed. though if you are reading this i imagine you are prepared to see that.

how do i process them once they're dead?

this is another one you can find pretty good videos of online. visiting a local rabbit show may get you in contact with someone willing to teach you in person, as well!

i am working on a big project website that is basically all i think you should know about raising rabbits, which will include detailed slaughter, skinning, and butchering videos, though as of now these are not available. i plan to have this project at least usably done by the end of the year!

ok so what's the thing with pet owners vs breeders

you may have noticed that i've been doing some 'as you may have heard' debunking in this post. that's because there is a very huge divide between the beliefs and practices of pet rabbit owners versus show and meat breeders and owners. why? well, that's complicated, but the big bad evil guy that is the first place to point at is the House Rabbit Society, or HRS.

the house rabbit society is basically rabbit PETA. i am not joking. here is a big masterpost on all their bullshittery: https://www.tumblr.com/o-i-have-too/185596917579/a-masterpost-of-house-rabbit-society-bullshit

i know this comes off as me having an agenda, and i guess i can't say that i don't, but i believe that the HRS' rules and rhetoric are not just wrong they are actively dangerous to follow. i have owned rabbits for nearly a decade and have produced more somewhere in the 1,500 range of animals in that time. i have owned a LOT of rabbits and have experienced all the different ways they can thrive and die and have done a lot of experimenting to find what works. just about everything the HRS says about caring for rabbits is blatantly false according to my experience. proper wire cage floors do not destroy feet. rabbits do not need hay if they eat a good pelleted diet. pellets are not evil or 'fattening' or the main cause of stasis. rabbits do not need leafy greens or veggies. rabbits do not need to be bonded. they are perfectly happy living alone, in cages. flipping a rabbit is not torture and is in fact sometimes necessary for many reasons. meat and show breeders are generally not contributing to the 'overpopulation' problem - if we don't want an animal most of us just eat them. breeding for meat is not evil if it's done appropriately and they are killed humanely.

unfortunately the HRS won the google SEO game and so their website and the sites of others that believe their rhetoric are the only thing that comes up on the first pages of search results. i'm not saying you have to blindly trust me, but i have the experience, and the combined experience of many of my peers both online and offline, that says that basically everything they believe in and preach is just...not true.

anyway that's it, hope this answers most of your questions! i may add to this in the future depending on what other questions i may get. stay tuned for updates on my website project and in general more farm content, rabbit and otherwise :)

[darkpoisonouslove]

Aren't you tired of talking about each other instead of about your husband/the father of your children respectively? Because I'm tired of hearing it.

[andstillwelove]

happy two years in REAL recovery and at this point, fully recovered. I sincerely hope this doesn't trigger anyone, but it obviously still might.

I'm posting this to confidently say that things don't get easier losing a coping mechanism, they get harder. But consequently you learn to practice genuine emotional and physical strength, which is far different than the perverse sense of strength you get from destroying yourself, which is not legitimate...It's just glorifying being self-destructive.

I still very much identify with the person I was when I was deeply struggling. We share a lot of the same passions and personality. Only I am now that person, expressed to her fullest, not enshrouded by a mental illness. You don't lose yourself but gain back the person you were meant to be, in full pigment.

Physically recovering is not the hardest part. Accepting yourself without comparison afterwards, is.

There is no 'sick enough' and people struggle long before it has physical ramifications. I am aware the issue with posts like mine is it portrays the idea of needing to reach a certain physical state before being 'deserving' of recovery. This couldn't be more false. There is nothing to be proud of by wasting more of your life, only more regret and rumination.

healthy is beautiful and looks different for all.

[pallastrology]

observations on pisces

artwork by georg janny

saturn in pisces ('tis the season...) suffers greatly with feelings of guilt. something else they can struggle with is fear. the fear is often existential, and the natives experience it from a young age. they will often 'ritualise' their fears, creating structures that help them feel safe and protected, but in doing so, these structures can actually intermingle with their sense of guilt and lead to them feeling responsible for things no person is. they really do have the weight of the world on their shoulders sometimes.

pisces suns are often labeled as easily influenced, and while this isn't entirely untrue, i think it's a bit oversimplified. pisces is receptive and sensitive, taking in a lot from their environment and reading between the lines easily. they are a mutable sign, and so aren't naturally stubborn people. but when well-developed, sun in pisces is a very self-aware placement and that reflective, open nature helps them to actually become quite sure about their beliefs and values. so i suppose, an undeveloped pisces sun will be easily influenced, but maybe not a pisces sun in general.

with pisces in the seventh house, the stereotype is that the native is the type to dream about a prince charming figure who'll sweep them off their feet. in reality, this placement is more likely to not really know what they want from a relationship, to struggle with healthy boundaries, and to feel they have to save - or be saved by - their partner. it takes time and steady reflection to understand where these difficulties come from and how to heal their relationship with love.

mars in pisces tends to really struggle with conflict. they turn it over and over, ruminating endlessly. should i have said this? done that? did i go too far? pisces almost always struggles with boundaries and emotional conflict, but with mars here there's so much energy directed to working on these issues, it can feel like an impassable bridge to the native. as much as they struggle however, they are also fiercely caring, sensitive and surprisingly brave individuals, who can push themselves hard when they are connected to something important.

pisces moons will often disappear when things overwhelm them. they can get a reputation for being a bad friend because of this, despite their caring nature. while they can easily fall into despair over the issue, it doesn't need to be permanent; a big learning curve for these natives is learning to both not induce this crushing overwhelm and urge to vanish, and to better manage their emotions and health when things pop up unexpectedly. embracing their sister sign, virgo, can be a way forward here.

mercury in pisces, when writing or otherwise creating, is very sensitive to the feeling of their medium. so with words, for example, the word has to evoke the right feeling before it's considered to be the right word for the native to use. they are actually pretty perfectionistic in this sense, though their creations can seem to lack a strong, distinctive style; they are mutable after all, and this quality shines through in their work, as they flit through various influences and inspirations.

pisces ascendants get a reputation for being sweet and shy. while they are on the shy side, they are highly receptive and read deeply into what's going on around them, absorbing the atmosphere like a sponge does water. it's a placement that's often infantilised, probably because neptunian placements in general are easily misunderstood. but pisces risings are not so much innocent little faery children; they're a little reclusive, highly attuned to those around them, and easily confused by their own emotions and reactions.

venus in pisces is selfless to a fault, but there's an interesting process going on beneath the native's awareness. they often have a romanticised view of selflessness as a concept, and idealise being nice and giving. so while they are genuinely kind, caring and self-sacrificing people, they do gain something, unconsciously, from giving themselves to others; it bolsters their sense of self and lifts their often low view of themselves. which is part of why it can be so hard for them to set healthy boundaries and stop giving everything to everyone.

[starmosaics]

I want to hug every person out there with a harsh moon-saturn aspect. A person with this aspect likely went through some hardships in areas of childhood; especially in regards to the relationship with their caregiver/mother. Their caregiver (usually the mother) could have been emotionally distant therefore being unable to provide proper nurturance a child needs. Maybe the mother herself was dealing with her own emotional distress during her pregnancy or after the child was born. I’ve also seen people with this aspect (including my own experience with this aspect) who had a caregiver that struggled with some sort of addiction or that the child was a witness/victim to some form of abuse. Facing poverty is also something that’s commonly seen. Because of the lack of warmth in their upbringings, this could heavily impact one’s sense of self worth. They end up internalizing the mother’s actions/words or lack-thereof believing that the reason their caregiver is so distant (whether it be emotionally or physically) or acted that way towards the child was because of something they had done.

Building solid and healthy relationships for these people is quite difficult as well. They have to learn how to accept other people’s warmth and nurturance and allow others in. Because it’s so foreign to these people to be on the receiving end of things, they could entirely self sabotage or have this innate belief that they’re unworthy of recieving another’s loving gestures. Many moon-saturn people feel that they need to take on the role of both the mother and father and step into a place of needing to be responsible for everyone and everything. They are often the most mature within their families and amongst their peers. They need to realize that it’s not their job to carry the weight of the world and that they’re only responsible for their own words and actions. They often have very depressive thoughts that causes them to dwell or deeply ruminate. Sometimes they have very rigid perspectives and see things through a black and white lens and have distorted beliefs. It’s almost like they have a weighted blanket covering the mind, and a chain wrapped around their heart. Because of their commonly cold upbringings, these people have a hard time healthily expressing their emotions. They may often feel numb or scared to express how they really feel.

Some common misconceptions people make about these folks is that they’re incapable of being emotionally open, that they’re cold and have no heart or that they’re too in their heads (the last one might be true lol). These people haven’t been dealt the greatest cards and they need to establish a sense of trust within themselves and between them and the other before they feel open to express how they’re truly feeling. They’ve build walls around themselves to keep their heart protected. You won’t be able to win their trust easily, it takes time (saturn). They likely care about you but are reluctant to showing it because they fear rejection or dismissal. Many people also think these people are boring or are somewhat robotic. Moon-saturn people likely weren’t allowed to act on their childlike qualities or really delve into their interests due to growing up so fast because of the kind of environment they experienced in their upbringing so their expression is somewhat diluted. These people are silly and have a side to them that is playful and lighthearted and they have incredible interests that they usually express when they’re by themselves. It takes time for them to fully open up; it requires patience.

Here are some things a moon-saturn person can do to work with and hopefully overcome this harsh aspect:

Therapy (CBT, DBT, Trauma therapy, Somatic therapy).

Allow yourself to do things you weren’t allowed to do as a child.

Work on reframing the mind.

Work on getting out of scarcity mindset.

Do things that bring you joy and make you smile/laugh.

Write a gratitude list.

Talk to trees/plants/animals. They’re the least judgmental of all living things.

Create a space that’s comforting for you.

Journal.

Develop a healthy sense of self worth (You can use affirmations, express yourself how you want, tell yourself you’re deserving of good things, meditating, practice self compassion, accept yourself for who you are, etc.).

Get a ESA/service pet.

Write letters to yourself.

When faced with difficult situations, find the lesson within them.

If your family adds stress to your life, set boundaries with them or fully cut them off.

Find community (there’s community all around).

Write down the beliefs you have about yourself and look at them from an objective POV. Recognize how harmful they might be.

Work on your relationships. If you have friends and they’ve stuck around, there’s a reason they’re still there. Open up and allow them in. The right ones will stay in your life.

If in a romantic relationship, openly express your love for that person. Don’t hold back.

Make time once or twice a month where you and your partner can sit and openly discuss how you guys feel within and about the relationship.

Eat a hot meal.

Find new hobbies!

[trophyprincess]

Here are some tips that have helped me stay sane in the face of my body dysmorphia and disordered eating habits.

Positivity time! This one's for all the ladies out there struggling with their bodies.

Body dysmorphia causes changes to visual areas of the brain. Your brain is literally lying to you. You are hallucinating. No, seriously. This is SO SO IMPORTANT. Look, if you have an ED then chances are, you may very well have legitimate body dysmorphic disorder. Your brain may be warping and distorting the image in the mirror. It's why everyone around you keeps saying how thin you are, but all you can see in the mirror is flab. It's a neurophysiological thing. (Most of the literature on BDD seems to pertain to cases regarding the patient's facial features or similar, rather than in the context of body size in ED patients, though.)

One binge won't undo your progress. Everyone fucks up sometimes. Don't dwell, don't ruminate, just pick yourself up the next day and keep going! This applies to "binges" in the proper clinical sense, as well as 4n4 "binges" that are more aptly described as simply "overeating." I occasionally will give myself a "free day" once a month or so, or if it's a holiday or something.

If you fast and restrict, take a good multivitamin, plus a calcium supplement! I also take thiamine to be safe. Being thin and undereating are associated with osteoporosis risk later in life, so calcium is a must! You need to make sure you're getting all of the critical micronutrients your body needs to function.

Exercise, especially cardio, helps with dopamine regulation. I have industrial strength ADHD-PI, ymmv. I also find that exercise bike, walking, or even pacing constantly = STIMMY STIMMY STIM TIME STIMS, MUST STIM, MORE STIM, CANNOT BE STILL, FUCK YOUR QUIET HANDS. Again, ymmv, fuck quiet hands, all my ND homies hate quiet hands.

Strengthening/resistance exercises help prevent osteoporosis later in life. 20-30 minutes 3-5x/week of yoga or pilates is great for this!

THC gummies are pretty low calorie. Shoutout to drugs other than alcohol for not having calories! (I use cannabis and hallucinogens, not big on hard drugs though.)

If you do drink, there are low cal options, but please moderate and try to follow CDC guidelines and avoid frequent binge drinking!! Guys, susceptibility to addiction runs in families. Also, struggling with impulse control aspects of binging may cooccur sometimes with susceptibility to alcohol abuse and addiction. I like vodka with diet tonic water, gin and tonic with diet tonic water, and vodka cosmos with diet 5 cal cranberrry "juice!" White Claw and similar hard seltzers are also great. Personally, I avoid drinking alone, don't drink all that often, and take care to be responsible and cautious. Ymmv, especially if you're still in early adulthood and just now starting to really experiment with substances!

When you do eat, make sure to get enough protein and fats! Carbs, you can take or leave. No one ever died from lack of carbohydrates, oddly enough. Protein and fat, though? I've had seizures due to low blood protein (combined with an accidental double dose of bupropion, to be fair). Rabbit starvation is a thing. This is especially important to pay attention to if you're vegetarian or vegan! Egg whites, chicken, tuna and other fish, olives, chickpeas, nuts, and beans are all good low calorie sources of protein and fats. (Olives, legumes, and especially nuts are energy dense though, so moderation is key.)

Enjoy the nice, healthy, low calorie foods that you do eat. It's okay to enjoy food, even if it's safe foods like light salads or cauliflower rice with vegetables.

Seek out social support and harm reduction advice. One thing people overlook about the whole "pr0 4n4" thing is that these communities are key sources of social support and harm reduction information for people who struggle with EDs.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

No Distance Left to Run | Part 1 | S.R

Next Part

Chapter Summary - Truth or Dare? A harmless teenage game gone wrong when spoken by the man holding you hostage. And when you’re feeling for your best friend come to light after fifteen years, how will you and Spencer cope in the aftermath?

Pairing - Spencer Reid / BAU Fem! Readers

Category - friends to lovers | mutual pining | angst with happy ending | smut minors DNI

Warnings - spoilers for 14.15 Truth or Dare and mentions of 13.17 The Capilanos, canon compliant hostage situation, guns, brief mention of Maeve, drinking, arguing, very brief mention of past drug addiction and prison arc, hints at domestic violence, burns.

WC - 8.7k

Part 1 - Truth or Dare?

The world stood still. For what could have only equated to five seconds, the world stood still. 

Five seconds somehow felt like an entire lifetime, where all outside stimuli faded from vision, sounds disappearing before they could hit eardrums. The way his wrists and knee and the rest of his body had ached and throbbed just moments ago slipped away. 

The world stood still. All he could see was you and all he could hear were the words you’d spoken five seconds before that had caused the earth to suddenly stop turning on its axis with the weight of them. 

For five seconds, which felt like five hours, he saw the last fifteen years flash before his eyes. Every subtle glance, every tiny smile; every accidental touch. Every word ever shared between the two of you that he’d catalogued in his brain came spiralling forth, flooding his senses to the point he wasn’t sure he could breathe.

For five seconds it was simply you and him and those words you’d spoken at the worst possible time. But you’d said it. And he heard it. He just had no idea what he was supposed to do with it now. 

There was once a time when hearing those words spoken from your lips to his ears was all he had ever wanted. He’d imagined you saying them to him more times than was healthy, so often in fact there were instances in which he actually managed to convince himself you had said them. 

But you never had. Not until now. 

And now he had no idea how he was supposed to begin processing those words, especially in the situation in which you had finally spoken the one thing he’d always wanted to hear you say. 

He wanted to respond, he wanted to tell you he felt the same, he’d always felt the same. For fifteen long years he’d carried his unrequited feelings for you like a led weight upon his shoulders. They’d dragged him down a little more each day, at this point he found he was almost entirely buried under the burden of his feelings.

And then you’d gone and said that and he didn’t know how he was supposed to respond. 

The words were spinning and turning, ruminating in his brain and he forgot for those five seconds where you were and what was going on around you. He stopped trying to cut through the tape binding his wrists, stopped thinking about getting to his ankle hostler.

He stopped thinking about the crazed unsub standing just three feet away brandishing a gun at the both of you, his sick and twisted game of Truth or Dare coming to an abrupt end with the uttering of those. 

“Spence, uh...I have always loved you. I was too scared to say it before... and now things are just really too complicated to say it now. I'm sorry, but you should know.” 

It froze his blood in his veins, causing his heart to physically skip a beat. It caused it to fall completely out of a normal rhythm and erratically thump against his chest as though trying to break free and crawl across the floor to you. 

The tears in your eyes as you spoke those words told him it was true no matter how much easier it would be for him to pretend otherwise. 

Your statement caused the air to grow thicker and he felt like he was going to choke on it. The words had left your lips, wrapping around his throat and gripping him firmly with their talons. 

For five long, lingering seconds Spencer Reid was lost in his memories, looking at you across the bullpen on his twenty-fourth birthday, whispering to Gideon, “do you know she’s the only person in the world who calls me ‘Spence’?” 

He was on the jet, Gideon giving him movie tickets to see the new Harry Potter movie while Spencer tried to hide his frown of confusion from his mentor.

“You know who’s a huge Harry Potter fan?”

“Who?”

“The only person in the world who calls you ‘Spence’.”

He’d wanted to tell you that night as the two of you stood on the sidewalk outside the theatre before you’d even seen the movie that he was in love with you. He almost had told you, almost let the words just come tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

But he’d been stopped short by the sounds of heels on the concrete getting closer and then her voice cut him off before he’d even gotten out a single word.

“Sorry, sorry I’m late, I know.” Penelope Garcia tottered towards the two of you, pushing her bangs back off her face.

“It’s ok, it doesn’t start for another ten minutes.” You smiled as you embraced her. 

Spencer looked dumbly between you and Garcia, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows so high they almost hit his hairline.

“Happy birthday, boy wonder.” Garcia grinned at him.

“Uh…” He swallowed thickly. “Thanks?”

“Shall we?” You motioned towards the front door of the movie theatre and Garcia nodded, taking the lead.

You hung back a little, looking at the confusion that was still spreading across the young genius's face.

“You don’t mind, do you? Penelope loves Harry Potter almost as much as I do.” 

“Of course I don’t mind. Why would I mind?” He shook it off but was quickly pushing past you inside. 

It had been at that exact moment you’d realised that night was supposed to be a date. The look on Spencer’s face when he’d seen Penelope haunted you for years. You’d missed the signs, signs that seemed so glaringly obvious when you’d looked back on them.

But you were green then, still new at profiling and you had completely missed his overt cues. But by then it was too late to do anything about it. 

The night had been filled with a heavy tension for which Garcia had been oblivious to. And no matter how many times you tried to talk to Spencer about it afterwards, you could never quite get the words out. 

Until now. 

There had been far too many blockers in the way over the years for you to ever be able to tell him how you felt. You’d thought by this point you never would utter those words to him, after all this time it was easier to just keep them to yourself.

But then Pinkner had made you confess your biggest secret, a secret you’d never told anyone. Telling your best friend of fifteen years you’d always loved him certainly fit the bill.

You could still sense the gun pointing at you, still feel Pinkner’s wild eyes on the side of your face as you stared at your rightfully confused and hurt friend. Spencer’s lip almost immediately started to quiver the smallest amount, barely conceivable to the naked eye. His brow furrowed in a painful kind of uncertainty. 

You couldn’t tell whether he believed you or not and maybe it was for the best if he didn’t. As long as Pinkner was convinced by it, you might make it out of here alive. But if you did survive this, what would that mean for you and Spencer? Had you effectively destroyed all those years of friendship with one stupid admittance?

In that small five second window of time after your confession, you were taken back over ten years, transported to that night in Rossi’s kitchen.

You heard the footsteps approaching from behind as you leant against the granite countertop and somehow you already knew it would be him. Maybe after four years of working together, of spending so much time together, you knew his footsteps as well as your own.

You slowly turned to face him, your melancholy smile mirrored on his own lips. You saw his shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath. 

“I should have told you first.” You rolled your lip between your teeth. “Before the rest of the team, I should have told you first. I owed you that much.” 

“Y/N,” he sighed your name. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

“I owed you more than this.” You folded your arms over your chest as he got closer. 

The chatter from the team in the yard filtered in through the open window but neither of you really heard it and if you did you didn’t register it. 

“I’m happy for you.” He shrugged, stepping a little closer to you. 

“Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re my best friend.” He cautiously reached for you, his large hands wrapping around your left wrist and untucking your arm from your body. 

He held you loosely, bringing your hand into view, or more specially what was adorned on your hand. 

“Spencer?” You swallowed as tears threatened to flood your vision. 

He glanced up from the diamond on your finger to meet your gaze. 

“Yes Y/N?” He let go of your wrist and slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. 

“Tell me I’m making a mistake.” The words just fell out, crashing around Spencer like a tidal wave. 

You saw his jaw tighten, his back got a little straighter but his expression barely changed. 

“Do you think you’re making a mistake?” 

“You tell me.” You swallowed again. “Am I marrying the wrong man, Spence?” 

He felt then much like he did now. Blindsided. Frozen in fear of what your words could mean for him. Completely and utterly lost. 

Before he’d had a chance to respond to you, Emily had appeared from the yard in search of more wine and your conversation went unfinished. 

His answer would have been a simple one, yet one he never would have said out loud. Yes. Yes you were marrying the wrong man. Of course you were marrying the wrong man. 

But while you were distracted by Emily and her hunt for alcohol, he’d slipped away and the conversation never had a chance to end. 

You’d seen Emily’s interruption as divine intervention. Her showing up when she did was like a sign from the universe that you and Spencer’s time had long since passed you by. 

But realistically it was always eventually going to come to the surface. Over the years it had been buried deep, thrown to the bottom of the ocean with a cinder block tied around it. 

Slowly but surely it had risen, a few feet a year perhaps. And finally it had surfaced, all those long lost feelings emerging from the depths while a mad man held you both at gunpoint. 

Five seconds. Five simple seconds and all those years of memories begged to be seen, to be felt. But soon those quiet seconds were over and you were both brought back to reality by the hideous sound of maniacal laughter. 

“Goddamn…that’s what I’m talking about.” Pinkener chuckled wildly, revealing in the looks on both of your faces. “Those are some last words right there. But not good enough to save your life.” 

You both turned back to him as he was levelling the barrel of the gun between your eyes. 

Spencer had less than a second to make his move, to carry out his plan to perfection otherwise the last words he would ever hear from your lips were that you’d always loved him. 

He tore through the remains of his binds in a fraction of that second and in another he was able to unsheath his hidden firearm in his ankle holster, raise the weapon and shoot Pinkner dead. 

Comparatively next to the last painfully slow five seconds, this happened so fast. One minute you were staring death in the face and the next you were looking back at Spencer, duct tape hanging limply from his wrists and the smoking gun in his hands. 

As the tears finally broke free, Spencer had to keep his at bay, lock them away like he’d done so many times before. He slotted his gun away and helped you to your feet, cutting away the duct tape still binding your wrists together. 

In the moments before the BAU breached the room, you turned to him, wiping your eyes, questioning him without the use of words. Your words had done enough damage. 

He simply stared back at you, his own eyes conveying the confusion and pain your statement had caused him. 

You opened your mouth as if you might speak but anything you might have said died somewhere on your throat. 

I’m sorry. 

I shouldn’t have said that. 

Please don’t look at me that way. 

I am so, so sorry. 

He inhaled, his whole frame going rigid like he could hear the words you weren’t saying. His eyes asked you if you meant it. Your silence told him you had. 

You were torn apart by the sound of a door crashing against its hinges and suddenly Matt, Rossi and Tara descended on the room. 

You forced yourself to look away from the broken hearted, doe eyed man you’d called your best friend for almost a decade and a half. 

You snapped back into action, turning your back on Spencer while you informed the others what had happened. You could feel Spencer’s eyes on the back of your head.

He couldn’t bring himself to snap back around the way you had and he watched you attend to one of the shooting victims as though you hadn’t just blown his whole world up.

Maybe you hadn’t meant it. If you’d meant it you would still be stuck in a state of complete paralysis like he was. 

Somehow you both found yourself back outside on the street, the cool night air attempting to cleanse you both of the previous activities. As you stood by the ambulance with Rossi, arms wrapped protectively around your body, you couldn’t keep the tears from your eyes. 

Glancing back at the building you’d been held hostage in, you could feel the piece of your heart that you’d left behind in there. 

***

2005 

You seemed to float into the bullpen, your feet never touching the ground as you were some kind of angel with no wings. Spencer couldn’t help the way he stared at you, not so subtly as you entered at Gideon’s side. 

Both Gideon and Hotch had mentioned hiring a new agent to round out the team, but in Spencer’s wildest dreams he couldn’t have predicted the way that new agent would cause his heart to feel as though it had flatlined.

“Yo, pretty boy?” Morgan’s teasing tone snapped Spencer’s eyes away from where they followed you through the room.

He hadn’t registered that you and Gideon stopped in front of them, looking between him, Morgan and JJ while Spencer did very little to cover up the way he was staring at you like you were an apparition plucked straight from his dreams.

“Huh?” Spencer looked to his left where Morgan watched him curiously, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Let’s not make the new girl feel uncomfortable on her very first day.” Morgan laughed and Spencer heard JJ snicker from somewhere behind him. 

He was acutely aware Morgan was speaking more than loud enough for both Gideon and yourself to hear. 

A harsh blush suddenly leapt to his cheeks, turning him a bright shade of red. He shrunk in his chair, half wishing the item of furniture might swallow him completely. 

“I wasn’t…I wasn’t…” he mumbled, unable to form a full sentence given all the amused gazes which now lay upon him. 

“Don’t mind him,” JJ spoke up, her tone light and playful. “He doesn’t get out much.” 

Spencer somehow sunk deeper into his chair, wondering if perhaps he could just crawl under his desk and hide there instead. 

Just as he was considering it, an angelic laugh met his ears and he was frozen in place. His eyes moved back to you of their own volition and he drank in the way your lips were parted, eyes half closed as you let out that magnificent sound. 

It was the easiest, sweetest laugh he’d ever heard, a sound that he felt reaching towards him, wrapping him in its warm embrace. It reminded him of Christmas morning when his mother was lucid. It evoked memories of cosy fall evenings, sprinkled donuts, dimly lit library’s surrounded by stacks of old books. His favourite things in the whole world, that’s what your laugh conjured. 

“Everyone this is our new agent Y/N Y/L/N, please can you all make her feel welcome. Not too welcome though, ok, Reid?” Gideon shot him a somewhat nettled look, which once again sent Spencer spiralling into a pit of his own awkwardness. 

“Got it,” he finally spoke, his voice multiple octaves higher than usual. 

Morgan scoffed a laugh, clearly noticing how the young genius sounded like he was going through puberty all over again. 

Gideon nodded before taking his leave, heading up the stairs towards his office whilst leaving you with the three other agents. 

You played with your hands in discomfort, not quite knowing what to do with yourself. You’d been thrown in at the deep end, plucked straight out of the academy by Jason Gideon himself and now you’d been thrown to the lions. 

JJ pushed herself up from where she’d been leaning on an empty desk and she approached you slowly, as if you were a frightened deer who might retreat back into the woods if she startled you. 

Maybe you would. 

“It’s nice to meet you, and welcome to the team. I’m Jennifer but you can call me JJ, everyone does. I’m the Communications Liaison here.” She held out a hand for you to shake, an amicable smile on her face that reached all the way to her bright blue eyes. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” You shook her hand. 

“And these are SSA’s Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid.” She pointed over her shoulder at the two men. 

SSA Derek Morgan smiled at you, a confident kind of smile with his broad arms folded across an even bigger chest. 

“Welcome to the team, Y/L/N.” He nodded in your direction. 

“Thanks.” You replied before glancing back at Doctor Spencer Reid. 

The poor kid was sinking so low in his chair you could barely see his face over his desk. His cheeks were still flushed bright red and he raised one arm, offering you an awkward wave. 

“Hi,” he squeaked, making no attempt to sit back up. 

He was around your age despite the fact his oversized sweater vest begged to contradict that. His reputation preceded him, you’d heard all the stories of the genius being the youngest ever recruit to the BAU, even having exceptions made due to his lack of physical prowess. 

You had no idea he’d be so damn cute. 

You’d soon come to learn you had a surprising amount in common with him. And once the teasing from Morgan died down about his blatant crush on you, Spencer was able to start talking to you without his voice breaking every time he opened his mouth. 

But he had a distinct suspicion that his feelings for you wouldn’t just go away overnight. He’d known from the first time he looked at you that you were different from any other childish crush he’d had before. 

However he never would have dreamed that fifteen years later he’d still be as hung up on you as the day he met you.

***

Present Day

Rossi patted your shoulder and offered you a slightly sorrowful smile, as if apologising for what you’d been through when you both knew it wasn’t his fault. 

When he walked away, your eyes found Spencer. He was several feet away near the curb, his eyes cast down at his hand that was being wrapped in gauze by a paramedic. It felt like it was killing him to keep his eyes off of you and somehow you knew he sensed your eyes on him. 

He had his other hand in his pocket, his body leaning up against a cop car. His jaw was set from the moment your eyes landed on him like your gaze made him uncomfortable. 

You looked away from him, physically having to tear your eyes away, a split second before his own eyes flicked up in your direction. 

He’d been right the first time he’d laid eyes on you, he’d been right in thinking you were different from any other childish crush he’d had before. Because fifteen years down the line and he was still implausibly in love with you. 

But you weren’t supposed to feel the same. Not that he hadn’t pictured you confessing your feelings for him hundreds of times before but he’d never believed it to be a real possibility. 

Over the years he’d tried to move past his feelings, hoping that if he ignored them for long enough they would simply cease to exist. Or at the very least he could stop focusing on it all the time.

He’d finally gotten to a point in his life where he’d accepted the fact the two of you were never going to be together, stopped clinging so tightly to the idea of his happy ending with you. 

And now you’d gone and said those words and he didn’t know how he was supposed to begin reconciling that. 

From twenty three years old to here at thirty nine, Spencer’s whole world had revolved around you. He had no doubts you were the reason he’d never managed to settle down, maybe somewhere in his mind he’d always been secretly waiting on a life with you. 

Even with Maeve, sweet, wonderful Maeve, he knew it wasn’t the same. Even if she hadn’t met her end in the tragic way that she had he was sure it never would have worked between them because she wasn’t you. He loved Maeve, but he loved you more. 

He’d stood on the sidelines and watched as you met someone, settled down and started a life with him, not giving Spencer a second thought. If it was true that you’d always loved him, how could you have had that with someone else? 

And if it wasn’t true, how could you be so cruel? 

“You ok, Reid?” 

Spencer snapped out his daze, casting his eyes away from where they’d been watching the back of your retreating head as you walked towards one of the SUV’s with Emily and Tara.

He was still leaning up against the cop car, holding his right hand out as if the paramedic were still bandaging him. It was only now he realised the paramedic was long gone. 

He turned his hand over, inspecting the binding which was protecting the six butterfly stitches the paramedic applied to the cut on his palm. It probably hurt, somewhere in the back of his mind there was a pain receptor blinking rapidly in alert but he barely noticed it.

“Yeah,” he nodded, finally looking at Luke. “Weird day.” 

“Two guns, huh?” Luke nudged his shoulder. 

“You called it.” Spencer shrugged stiffly. 

“How long have you been wearing an ankle holster?”

“Around the time I got out of prison.”

“Right,” Luke nodded a little sadly. “Well, you saved Y/N’s life, so I’d say it was a pretty good thing you were packing a second weapon.” 

At the mention of your name Spencer’s eyes snapped back in the direction you’d been walking, expecting you to be inside the SUV already but you weren’t. You hovered by the open door of the vehicle, Tara and Emily now nowhere in sight. 

You were observing him, your previous tears still clouding your eyes and despite the distance between the two of you he could see them. 

You knew when you confessed your secret it was the worst possible thing you could have said but it was the only real thing you had to say. 

You could tell by his downturned expression, his usually vivid eyes so empty as he stared at you, that you’d hurt him beyond belief. 

What you’d said had been selfish, you knew that. Your time had come and gone. You’d had countless opportunities to tell Spencer how you felt before now, before things got this complicated. 

Perhaps it would hurt him less if you lied to him and told him you didn’t mean it. 

From inside the SUV Tara called your name and you broke eye contact with him and made yourself slide into the back seat. 

Spencer continued to stare at the spot you’d just been occupying. Just out of reach, you’d always been just out of reach. In turn he pushed himself away from the cop car and followed Luke toward the other SUV where the older man offered him the front seat. 

Spencer climbed inside, careful not to do anything with his bandaged right hand and fumbled with getting his seatbelt on while Matt put the car in drive. 

In the back of the other SUV you were preoccupied with your own hands. More specifically, the thin silver wedding band on your left hand. 

***

2010 

You brought your glass of champagne up to your lips and sipped it delicately, careful not to smudge your recently applied lipstick. Behind you, Garcia was fussing around with your hair, clipping here, brushing there, and making small little appreciative noises as she did so. 

On the couch beneath the window, Emily and JJ lounged back with their own glasses of bubbly. 

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love weddings?” Emily mused with a slightly tipsy smile on her features.

“No Em, you love the excuse to drink champagne.” Garcia tittered, pinning another section of your hair. 

“Which is served mostly at weddings. Ergo, I love weddings.” Emily grinned. 

“Can someone cut her off?” You giggled into your own glass. “I could really do without drunk bridesmaids.” 

“Good idea,” JJ agreed, snatching the glass out of Emily’s hand making the raven haired woman whine.

“Hey!” Emily made a grab for the glass but JJ held it out of reach. 

“You can drink as much as you like after the ceremony. You want to get down that aisle without tripping and making a scene.” JJ rolled her eyes, practically fighting Emily off. 

“I don’t make scenes.” Emily grumbled with a childish huff. 

“Because we don’t let you drink enough to make them.” You laughed and so did JJ and Penelope. 

There was a soft and tentative knock at the door just then and you turned over your shoulder towards the sound.

“Who is it?” Penelope spoke for you. 

“Man of honour reporting for duty.” His voice carried through the door.

“Enter at your own peril. We’re drunk and frisky.” Emily called with a loud cackle.

The door cautiously inched open and his head popped around the side of it, one eyebrow raised in concern. 

“We’ve cut her off, don’t worry.” JJ sighed, nodding her head at Emily. “I swear it's safe to come in.” 

The door opened further to allow him to enter. He limped inside, clutching his cane in one hand and leaning most of his weight on his good leg. You made eye contact with him and watched the way he swallowed a large lump in his throat. 

For a few seconds, the girls melted away and it was simply you and Spencer. His long hair had been tamed as much as he could, tucked behind his ears to keep it out of his face. He wore a black suit and crisp white button down paired with a black bowtie. He had a red rose boutonniere peeking out of his breast pocket. 

“Can we, uh…can we have the room?” Your voice cracked as you spoke but no one but you seemed to notice. 

“We should go and get dressed anyway.” Penelope agreed, nodding her head for JJ and Emily to stand. 

The other two women got to their feet and passed across the room. Before she left, Penelope gave your hand a soft squeeze in some kind of knowing way. 

Spencer hobbled aside for the three women to leave and approached you slowly. His smile was a little forlorn, not reaching his eyes which held a wealth of regret.

“You look absolutely incredible.” His voice was quiet and breathy, barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t even have my dress on yet, Spence.” You laughed a little, feeling like you could cry from the way he was looking at you if you didn’t.

Your hair and make-up was done but you only wore a pair of sweatpants and an old tank top. But Spencer was looking at you like you hung the moon, just like he always did. 

“Yet here we are,” he offered you the smallest glimpse of a smile and a soft, somewhat wistful sigh. “You’re still the most beautiful woman in the world.” 

Your eyes widened, tears desperately trying to spill out but you managed to sniff them back before they ruined your make-up. You felt your heart constrict in your chest. His words were so genuine, so sincere and for a second you forgot it wasn’t him you were marrying. 

“Spence…” you croaked, looking at him somewhat sadly.

“What? I’m not allowed to think you look beautiful on your wedding day?” He forced a laugh but it sounded nothing like it normally did. 

“Spencer I-” 

“I got you something.” He cut you off, his hand not clutching his cane diving into his inside pocket. 

Your eyebrows furrowed when he pulled out a rectangular, black velvet jewellery box. 

“What is this?” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, not taking the box from him.

“Open it and see.” He rolled his eyes, proffering it closer to you. 

You felt your hands start to tremble as you took it from his hand and hesitantly opened it. Nestled inside on a little silk cushion was a simple silver bracelet. You gently plucked it out of the box taking in the delicately small, golden snitch charm connecting the two ends of the band. 

In the middle of the bracelet were intricately etched words you recognised instantly from a conversation between Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape in The Deathly Hallows. 

“‘After all this time?’ ‘Always.'”

Your tears couldn’t be contained anymore as you looked back at him. Your heart was trying to escape your body, trying to reach for him, to hold him. You wanted to throw your arms around him and never let him go, the way you should have done so many years ago.

You didn’t need to ask him why, you already knew. When he’d found out how much loved Harry Potter he’d read all of the books in quick succession, over the years he’d accompanied you to see all the movies too. 

The Deathly Hallows had been released three years prior and he’d brought you a limited edition print of the book for your birthday. 

When you flicked through it, you’d found a post-it note on one of the pages with a little window cut out of it. Through the cut out was the same quote as was inscribed on the bracelet. 

Of course Spencer would never deface a book by highlighting it but he’d gone through great lengths for you to know this particular passage meant something to him. 

You’d asked him about it, while out for drinks with the team to celebrate your birthday, you’d asked him what it meant. 

“You know,” he simply replied. 

“Do I?” You frowned at him. 

“Fairly certain.” 

You didn’t have much time to ponder on what the sentiment behind it was as that night you’d ended up meeting Jared, your future husband. 

“I still don’t know that I understand what that means.” Your voice cracked and pitched. 

Spencer shook his head with a dry laugh, taking the bracelet from you. He leant his cane against his thigh so he could hook the band around your wrist and secure it for you. 

“If you don’t know by now, I guess it's too late.” He shrugged, his fingers lingering on your skin a moment longer than they needed to. 

“Why are you being so cryptic?” You cocked a brow at him.

“Usually when one receives a gift, the polite thing to do is say thank you.” He gripped his cane again, leaning his weight back on his non injured leg. 

Your eyes, still producing a few tears, flicked from your bracelet to him and back again in quick succession. 

“Th-thank you.” You sniffed. 

“You’re welcome. You should get dressed, it’s almost time.” 

“Spencer?” You spoke again before he even had a chance to turn around.

“Yes Y/N?” 

“You never did answer my question.”

“What question was that?” He narrowed his eyes on you. 

“The night I got engaged, I asked you if I was marrying the right man, am I?” 

A sharp breath left from between his parted lips and he wished more than anything else in the world he had the courage to tell you the truth. Secondly, he wished for any excuse to get out of answering you at all. 

He took a deep breath, and chose his words very carefully as he spoke. 

“The only answer I can give you is engraved on your bracelet.” He shrugged again.

“I don’t know what that means, Spencer!” You threw your arms up in the air in exasperation.

“The thing is,” he swallowed thickly. “You do know what it means. You know exactly what it means. I don't need to spell it out for you Y/N, because you already know. My saying it out loud isn’t going to change anything, it's only going to make me feel foolish. You need to get dressed and I need to go and start showing people to their seats. I’ll see you out there ok?” 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was turning on his heels, shakily with the use of his cane, and hobbling back towards the door. 

When he opened it, an extremely suspicious JJ, Emily and Penelope stood on the other side now donning their matching sage green bridesmaids dresses and trying but failing to cover up the fact they had been attempting to eavesdrop. 

“Subtle,” Spencer rolled his eyes as he manoeuvred between them. 

“Not as subtle as you.” Emily rolled her eyes. 

When he turned back to her she had her arms folded across her chest in mild frustration. 

JJ and Penelope were nowhere to be seen and the door to the bridal suite was now closed, indicating they had gone inside. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Don’t ruin this for her.” Emily shook her head, ignoring his question. “You’ve had five years to tell her how you feel and you blew it. She’s happy, don’t ruin this for her.” 

Spencer sucked in a breath but before he could get his words out Emily was fleeing back into the room he’d just vacated. 

He was specifically trying not to ruin this for you. If he’d wanted to ruin your wedding day he would have told you exactly what he meant by it, even though he was sure you already knew. 

After all this time? Always.

I love you. After all this time? Always.

***

Present Day

Back at Quantico Spencer focused on writing his after action report despite the fact Emily had told him it could wait. He needed something to focus on that wasn’t you and what you’d said when you’d thought you were seconds away from death. 

Usually he wrote his case reports by hand, hating to prolong any computer use but the cut on his right hand meant he couldn’t hold a pen without causing it grief. 

Typing was slower, he hadn't mastered a keyboard from lack of use, so he jabbed at keys, painfully slowly but at least it kept him distracted. 

His whole body ached from the weight of the day. It was as though your words were pressing down on him, heavy and cumbersome trying to drag him down a rabbit hole from which he may never return. 

He had to stay focused. He had to concentrate on the report even if he did plan on leaving out your grandiose confession. 

It didn’t help matters, wouldn’t aid the directors to know exactly what had transpired between those walls. No one ever needed to know of the words you’d spoken to appease Pinkner. 

Because that’s all it had been. You’d needed to say something to get his attention and it had worked. You needed something startling enough that it would buy you some time.

You didn’t mean it. You couldn’t have meant it. You’d created a distraction so the two of you could get out of there alive. 

You’d helped save his life and shatter his heart all at once. 

If he was being perfectly honest with himself it would almost be worse if you had meant it. Because if you really had loved him all along how could you have committed yourself to another man? 

It wasn’t as though Spencer wasn’t available to you back then, he was nothing but available. He didn’t date because he was holding out hope of one day telling you how he felt. Sure there was that one kiss in the pool with Lila Archer and you’d barely spoken to him for weeks after, he never did understand that. 

Were you jealous? And if you were, why didn’t you just say something? 

Apart from that one incident, Spencer never even so much as looked at another woman for several years. He was there for you whenever you needed him and in whatever capacity you needed him to be. 

After a tough case he’d welcome you into his home, he’d answer calls in the middle of the night and pick you up from bars when you had too much to drink. 

He brought you your favourite coffee nearly every morning for years. He’d gone out of his way, extremely out of his way, to find you that copy of The Deathly Hallows for your birthday. 

He’d been so sure that night as you’d unwrapped it and looked at him with tears brimming in your sparkling eyes, that was the night he would win your heart. 

“Spence, hold up a sec,” you grabbed him by the wrist as he was heading towards the bathroom. 

“What’s up? Are you having a good birthday?” 

“The best.” You nodded, clutching your book to your chest in the crowded bar. “How did you find this?” 

“I have my ways.” He shrugged. “You like it?”

“Are you kidding me? I love it.” You smiled so sweetly at him he felt like his heart might explode. 

“Then it was worth it. I’d do anything to see you smile.” 

You exhaled through your nose, rolling your lip between your teeth. You edged closer to him and he caught the scent of your perfume. You opened the book to the page you’d found the post-it note stuck to with a small frown.

“What does this mean?” You asked curiously.

“You know,” he simply replied. 

“Do I?” You frowned at him. 

“Fairly certain.” He nodded. “Can I use the bathroom now?” 

“Yeah…” he nodded but your brows furrowed a little. 

“You sure? You look like you have something on your mind?” 

“I just want to thank you.”

“You have.” He chuckled but the seriousness of your expression curbed him. “Seriously, what’s up?” 

“I just…” you shook your head, suddenly moving even closer to him before you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thank you.” 

Spencer was so gobsmacked by what had happened, even if it had just been a gentle peck it had rendered him breathless. 

He stared at you in hazy confusion, half wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing. 

You smiled somewhat bashfully at him, taking a few steps backwards. 

“You can go now.” You shrugged. 

“Go? Go where?” He frowned, feeling as though his brain had been replaced by a bowl of jelly. 

“The bathroom?” 

“Oh.” He nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be right back.” 

He walked past you in daze, almost convinced that couldn’t have happened. But if that were true, why were his lips tingling?

Spencer looked away from the computer screen and rubbed his eyes with his palms roughly, trying to dispel any old memories which were hell bent on distracting him. 

He’d spent a long time in the bathroom that night, staring at his reflection and the tiny smudge of your lipstick left behind on his lips. 

He practised to an audience of one in the mirror what he was going to say to you, how exactly he would word the fact he’d been in love with you for two years. 

But he’d taken too long and by the time he’d rejoined the team you were across the room making out with the man who would soon be introduced to him and the other BAU members as Jared Haines. 

The man you would later marry. 

Once he was done violently rubbing his eyes he pushed his chair back from his desk. Slowly he got to his feet and glanced around. It was only then he realised he was alone. 

The bullpen was a ghost town and he was the sheriff. 

He had no recollection of anyone leaving, of saying goodbye or even looking up from the computer. Yet, he was the only one here. 

It had been such a long day. 

He shut down the computer and grabbed up his satchel before slinging it over his shoulder. He needed to at least try and get some rest even though he was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Tomorrow the team had been granted the day off for Rossi and Krystall’s wedding. But at that moment Spencer wasn’t even sure if he could bring himself to attend. 

As he forced his tired and aching limbs towards the elevators he checked his phone and saw a text message waiting to be read, time stamped several hours ago. 

He felt his chest constrict as he read it over in his head. He contemplated replying but he honestly didn’t have the energy. 

He slumped into the waiting elevator, reading it over once more before he put his phone away. With everything that had happened in the last few hours, she’d been the furthest thing from his mind. 

The guilt swam through his veins as he imagined what all of this could mean for her. And her simple message on his phone played on his tired mind all night. 

📱Max Brenner: Can’t wait for tomorrow, missed you xx

***

2018

“Hey, uh…is everything ok with you?” 

The light pooling through the crack in the blinds, casting its rays on the wooden table top had garnered your unwavering attention for the last five minutes. You were twirling your wedding band around your finger in absent-mindedness. 

“Hmm?” You tore your eyes away from the table and looked up at Spencer who was standing over you.

You’d found yourself in the small town of Guymon, Oklahoma, investigating a series of home invasion burglaries and murders with an interesting signature of the victims having their mouths cut at the corners. 

To make matters stranger their surviving victim, a seven year old boy, was convinced he saw a clown kill his dad. 

It was certainly a strange one. After nearly thirteen years with the BAU you’d thought you’d seen it all. But once again you were proven wrong. 

You glanced over Spencer’s shoulder at the board with all the details of the murder victims and a preliminary geographical profile Spencer had been working on. Your eyes lingered on the childish drawing of the clown which their surviving victim had sketched for them.

Spencer followed your gaze to the picture before looking back at you with a slightly wry smile. 

“You know there’s a word, even though it’s not recognised by any dictionary or psychology manual, for the excessive fears of clowns: coulrophobia.” 

You looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“I am not scared of clowns.” You tutted. 

“Something’s bothering you, you’ve been unusually quiet. I think something has been bothering you for a while.” He slid into the seat next to you.

The two of you were alone at the station while the rest of the team were following other leads. You and Spencer hadn’t really spent any time alone for a while, probably not since before his arrest in Mexico. You didn’t speak, so he continued.

“I noticed it when you came to see me in prison. Well that’s to say, I registered it but I didn’t realise I noticed it until much later on. You’ve been tense for a while now. I thought maybe it was because of my arrest or all the changes in the team, but I think it's more than that now.” He leant on the table closer to you, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

“Are you profiling me?” You spat a little harsher than you’d meant to. 

“I don’t know that it’s strictly classed as profiling when I know you so well.” 

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do. And clearly I don’t know you at all because I still even now can’t believe you managed to go to Mexico and get arrested without me having a clue what was going on.” You shoved your chair back, causing it to scrape across the wooden floor. 

“That’s what this is about?” Spencer stood up again moments after you did. “You’re still angry at me?” 

“I was never angry at you.” You shook your head. “We’re in the middle of a case, now is not the time.” 

“Make time.” He spat. “If I recall correctly I’m the one who spent three months in prison, not you. You don’t get to be angry because you couldn’t profile me and figure out what was going on.” 

“You think this is about my profiling skills?” You scoffed. 

“Isn’t it?” He stepped closer to you, a heavy frown on his features. 

“I’m not doing this now, Spencer.” You shook your head. 

“Just answer me! Why are you so angry at me? You’ve been hostile towards me since I was released and I don’t get it. We’re best friends, you should be able to talk to me.” 

“We’re not though, are we?” You shrugged limply. “Maybe once we were but we’re just not that close anymore, Spencer.”

“And who’s fault is that?” He bit back. “I always try to make plans but you always cancel on me.” 

“I have a life, Spencer! One that doesn’t revolve around you.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Yet when we go out for drinks as a team or if JJ or Emily or literally anyone who isn’t me asks you out, you never cancel. What have I done to upset you so much?” 

“Oh my gosh, not everything is about you, Spencer!” You hissed. “Maybe if you actually attempted to meet someone instead of following me around like a goddamn puppy all the time you’d understand. I have a family, Spencer. Jeez, stop being so codependent!”

You saw the way his whole body took the brunt of your harsh words. He stumbled a little on his feet, gasping for the breath you had caused to leave his lungs. His previously anger filled eyes turned sad, and he dragged his lip between his teeth.

“Wow.” He shook his head despondently. “Don’t hold back Y/N, say what you really mean.” 

“That, uh…that came out slightly crueller than I meant it to.” You retreated, trying to give Spencer your best apologetic look. 

“You think I don’t want what you have? You think I’m deliberately single? Surprisingly there isn’t a queue of women out the door wanting to date a neurotic, socially awkward, ex drug addict who spent three months in prison for suspicion of murder!” He raised his voice, you were glad the door was closed. 

Through the window of the office you noticed a few looks being sent your way by Guymon police officers who didn’t need to be profilers to read yours and Spencer’s body language. 

“Spencer, now really isn’t the time. We’re being watched.” 

“I don’t care!” He growled. “You started this. Clearly you have some grievances to air so let’s just get all out in the open, shall we?” 

“I’m done with this conversation.” You rolled your eyes, heading past him towards the door. “I’d ask if you want a coffee but I think you’ve had enough caffeine.” 

You reached for the door handle but Spencer caught your wrist in his hand, tugging you back to face him somewhat roughly. 

“Ouch.” You grumbled, pulling your arm free of him. 

“That didn’t hurt.” He rolled his eyes. 

And then he noticed the way your whole body had deflated. The way your eyes seemed to mist over as you rubbed your wrist through your shirt. He didn’t miss the brief hint of fear that washed across your face. 

“Please don’t do that again.” You swallowed, eyes cast towards the floor, your voice trembling. 

He’d seen it before, hundreds if not thousands of times in this line of work. Anyone else, anyone who wasn’t an FBI agent might have missed it. But he didn’t. 

“Y/N?” He whispered, taking a half step towards you. “What did you do to your arm?”

“N-nothing.” You shook your head, still looking at the floor. 

When Spencer gently wrapped his hand around your wrist again, he saw you flinch. But you let him roll the sleeve of your blouse up just enough to reveal the large angry, red mark on your forearm and wrist. 

“Is that…a burn?” He swallowed, the air leaving his lungs. 

Your skin was blanched and blistering. It looked incredibly painful and it was certainly fresh, it couldn’t have been caused more than a day or so ago. 

“I…it was dumb. I spilled hot oil while I was cooking. You know how clumsy I am.” 

That statement in itself caused confusion. He had never known you to be clumsy. 

“Y/N?” He spoke so softly it finally forced you to meet his gaze. “Did Jared do this to you?” 

“What? How can you even ask me that?” You were quick to shake your head, pulling your arm free of his hold and rolling back down your sleeve.

“That wasn’t an answer.” Spencer frowned. “You’re deflecting.” 

“I didn’t think a dumb question warranted an answer.” 

“You’re doing it again. Did he hurt you?” 

“Stop it, Spencer. Just stop it, ok?” You growled at him. “Stop it.” 

“Y/N if he hurt you I can…” he trailed off when the door opened and Emily and Luke strolled in with coffees and slightly dejected smiles on their faces. 

“Well that was a waste of time.” Luke grumbled, looking between you and Spencer and sensing the thick tension. “Uh…what’s going on?”

“You need to go to the hospital.” Spencer ignored them, focusing only on you. 

“I’m fine.” You shot him a warning look, telling him to drop it. 

“You could get an infection. You need to have that looked at.”

“Have what looked at?” Emily frowned at the two of you.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” You smiled at your boss. 

“She is not fine.” Spencer hissed. “She’s got a burn on her arm, she needs to have it checked out before she develops an infection or gangrene or loses her arm.” 

“Jeez, you are over dramatic.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine, seriously.” 

“Can I see?” Emily asked you softly, her eyes full of concern for you. 

You huffed out a breath and rolled up your sleeve.

“It’s not that bad.” You shrugged. 

“Yikes,” Luke grimaced. “I’m no doctor but I think Reid might be right, you need a hospital.” 

“Goddamnit.” You groaned. “Fine.” 

“Reid, can you take her?” Emily asked him but you were shaking your head.

“No, I don’t want to go with him. Luke?” 

“Sure thing.” Luke shrugged, knowing now wasn’t the time to get into why you didn’t want your so-called best friend taking you to the hospital. 

Luke motioned you towards the door and you followed him somewhat hesitantly. As you stepped out of the office you heard Emily’s confused voice asking Spencer, “what the hell is going on with you two recently?” 

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @dirtytissuebox @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle

[tasteracha]

touch

word count: 1.1k

warnings: pregnant reader, pregnant sex (safely), reader x jisung

synopsis: you want your baby out, and apparently sex was the way to do it (inspired by the scene in friends where rachel is pregnant and overdue)

its been a week. an entire week since this baby was supposed to be out, and it just. refuses. to come out. 

you’ve tried it all. exercises, walks, castor oil, massages, none of it works and you’re reaching your last straw. you want it out, you want to hold to hold you fresh baby in your arms, you want to see your husband with light shining in his eyes, but most of all you want the back pain and bulging stomach to be gone. 

the only thing you haven’t tried yet is sex. your doctor recommended it, something about the release of an orgasm helping with the contractions and the chemical makeup of sperm helping the process along, but the idea of it freaked you out, at first. 

honestly, the thought of having sex itself wasn’t a bad one - you haven’t done much past heavy petting since you reached twelve weeks, a sharp contrast to the healthy sex life the two of you shared prior to that. you kind of ached for it, the thought of him inside of you and his hands on you makes you hornier beyond belief. 

but, that mental block was still there. the thought of somehow hurting the baby, turning the wrong way or twisting or somehow contorting your body in a way that was harmful makes you want to cry despite the way you were throbbing for it. 

you can’t do anything about it now, he’s still at work for the next hour and you refuse to sit and wait for him with nothing to do but ruminate on the thought of fucking him. so, you take a long shower, the water steaming around you in clouds, soothing your aching muscles. when you’re done, you dress in a robe, hoping that he’ll take it off of you soon. 

by the time you pad out to the living room, he’s home already and sitting on the couch, still in his work clothes. he smiles at you when he notices you there, turning the volume down on his phone where he’s been scrolling through tiktok. 

“have a nice shower?” he asks, looking back down but spreading his arm over the back of the couch like he’s expecting you to settle in next to him. which, you usually would, but not today. 

“let’s have sex,” you say instead, holding back a laugh when his head shoots up immediately. 

“i’m sorry?” his voice is high pitched, eyes wide like you just asked him to commit murder with you.

“i need this baby out, it will help, and im horny. have sex with me,” you demand, moving closer to him until you’re crowding him into the couch.

“you’re sure?” he says, placing a gentle hand on your stomach and rubbing a bit. he’s so gentle, and you usually love when he is, but right now his touch is like a flame to your skin.

“yes, it’s all i’ve been thinking about today. please.”

“well,” he clears his throat, flushing a bit as he bites his lip. “i looked up what positions would be best. for the baby, you know? just in case. you can’t be on your stomach, obviously, or your back because of the blood flo-“

you cut him off with a kiss, hands fisted into his shirt, pulling him up off the couch and flushed against you. 

“if you’re not inside me in the next five minutes, i’ll die.” you say against his lips, pressing your lips to his one more time before pulling back. he nods fervently, taking your hand and walking you towards your bedroom. he stops in the hallway by it to bring your hand to his mouth, pressing a long kiss there while he looks at you with shining eyes, before opening the door. 

he kisses you again once you stop by the bed, slowly untying your robe and letting it slide off your shoulders onto the floor. you’ll reprimand him about it later, but right now the feeling of his warm hands on you is enough of a distraction. it’s different than kissing him has been recently, knowing that it’s going to lead to something more has butterflies erupting inside of you like it’s your first time again. 

“lay on your side, baby,” he instructs, pulling away from you and guiding you to the bed; he helps you lie down, hands light on your body as he guides you. the urge to tell him that you can do it yourself is on the tip of your tongue, but you hold it back. he loves taking care of you, even before he knocked you up he loved taking care of you. it’s one of the ways he likes to show that he loves you, so you let him do it. and, selfishly, it’s usually so nice to be pampered by him. 

he places a pillow under your head, holding your head up with his hand while he slides it under, his touches as gentle as possible. you lay against the mattress, a snippy demand for him to increase his pace at the tip of your tongue. before you can let it out he spoons up behind you and you realize that he’s naked, his bare skin pressed up against yours. 

he doesn’t fuck you right away. he takes his time running his hands over your body, from your breasts down your curved stomach and further to your thighs, squeezing your soft flesh between his fingers. he stops around your core, hiking one of your legs up so he can have better access. 

“mm, you’re so wet already,” his voice is deep as he spreads you apart, rubbing at your clit in slow circles. 

“been thinking about you,” you breathe out. you’re already tongue-tied, gone for him even with just a few touches. “for weeks. months. need you.”

when he finally sinks inside of you, your body relaxes in a way it hasn’t since before you got pregnant - your muscles melt into the mattress and your lead lilts further to the side as you let out a deep sigh. one of his legs wedges between yours, locking you into him. his hand snakes around your body to rest on your stomach, rubbing a bit as he slowly rocks into you, his breaths tickling your ear. 

he takes his time with you, letting you fall apart on him over and over as he maintains his pace. despite this, you know he’s just as needy, just as desperate from the way his muscles are tense from holding back. when he finally comes, he releases deep inside of you, holding you close as he pants into your skin. you’re all but melted into the sheets, brow sweaty and hair a mess, but he holds you against him still even after he pulls out.

“anything?” he asks.

“no,” you sigh, letting out a long groan. “but it was so worth doing that.”

“...i heard doggy style is good for the baby, too.”

[inbarfink]

Among the various readings and interpretations of What the Hell is Up With the Ending to the DHMIS Web Show - one of the more interesting ones (from my perspective, at leas) has always been that it’s all a metaphor for repeating patterns of trauma and/or abuse. 

As in, most of the narrative of the DHMIS Webshow has been some sort of surrealist metaphor for Roy being an overcontrolling and manipulative parental figure for his son and his friends

And then the ending shows them finally escaping his influence -

Only that without a frame of reference for just how screwed-up their upbringing really was and without any healthy way to process their various traumas, they end up being in danger of just replicating his abuse on their own. Either on each other or maybe on the color-swapped characters who can, like, represent their own children or something. 

And so the vague ending of the Webshow is an open question, yes, the trio might’ve gotten physically away from Roy’s influence - but are they free from it mentally?

Or are they doomed to snap back into their old familiar world?

And the interesting thing about this is that like… that could be what the Web Show is about on a metaphorical level. But in the TV Show, with its greater emphasis on interpersonal conflicts and the characters - the idea of our main trio unknowingly replicating the abuse they live under is not just something we can hypothetically ruminate on. It’s something we can actually see, something we can actually feel.

Like, the first thing that made me think of Yellow and Red’s interactions with Stain Edwards.

This is basically the closest the Three of Them can get to being parental figures within the confines of the Format. He starts out as such a sweet and curious child-like being, his title for himself is literally ‘the Forever Boy’. And, well…

Red and Yellow are just so uncomfortable with his curiosity and thirst for adventure that they basically immediately try and stomp it right out. And that’s like a whole big thing about DHMIS, isn’t it? The way that children’s edutainment and the education system actually curbs children's curiosity and desire for learning so they can better memorize easily-digestible simplified concepts and Respect Their Authority Figures. 

You know, it’s the whole thing with…

And that’s kinda how Red acts with Stain? He’s a lot less violent and more subdued about it - but he also discourages the little guy from asking questions and wanting to explore the world. 

And he is trying to push him into fitting more into the Format. And, like, managing his life like the Trio’s own life is managed by the Format. First more generally into what being part of the DHMIS main trio is supposed to mean (‘just sit here and something will happen’) and then eventually literally turning him into something he didn’t want to be. 

And from our more familiar perspective, it’s clear that Red Guy really just genuinely thinks at this point that sitting passively and Waiting to Be Taught At is how things are Supposed to Be and can’t really imagine things going any other way. He is honestly just trying to get Stain to understand how their life is supposed to work. (Well until it starts becoming about making a new Duck) 

And it’s also clear to us how much Red Guy is motivated by just unaddressed grief about Duck and wanting to avoid conflict with Yellow Guy, who's a lot more explictly lashing out at Stain in his grief

"What's the matter with him?" "Nothing. Just don't look at him." "What? Where can I look? I can't look at him, can't look over there..." "No, if, if you want to look at stuff, just tell me and I-I'll make a list. Of where you should or should not look..." "Seems like a weird system..." "Yeah, well, you seem like a weird little...thing with...and you don't even... the other guy at least had his own clothes"

But looking at it from Stain’s perspective, taking aside our understanding of Red’s character and motivation. This is just an authority figure giving him a nonsense set of rules and then lashing out at him when he questions it. Never giving a deeper explanation than ‘this is how it’s supposed to be’ and basically punishing his curiosity.

Kinda like, well, how the Teachers tend to interact with the trio.

And then there’s Yellow Guy who’s just totally lashing out at Stain through the whole thing, because, again, he can’t process the grief of losing Duck. Because his environment did not give him the tools to properly process that trauma and he has no healthy frame of reference to grief and that’s kinda...

Yeah, that’s just what I was talking about. Stain’s subplot in ‘Death’ is just Yellow and Red having not interrogated their abusive environment and not really dealing with their trauma and thus repeating the patterns of the Teachers on their new child-like figure.

Which then culminates with either Duck killing Stain in the name of preserving the status-quo of the format (“there’s only supposed to be three of us”) or with Stain having internalized so much of what Yellow and Red (but mainly Red) taught him about what he’s supposed to be that he was willing to kill in the name of the Format - and then slotted in perfectly in the unadventurous, unquestioning role of Duck.

And this lil narrative is especially interesting if you believe any variance of the David Theory. Because Yellow and Red were mainly motivated in their mistreatment of Stain by their Grief about a ‘dead’ family member. Which could mirror Lesley's trapping and mistreatment of the trio and her own motivations. 

But I think this idea of mirroring and repeating patterns of abuse are reflected in more than just this one episode. It’s also reflected in the way Red and Duck tend to mistreat Yellow.

Because while Yellow doesn’t slot as neatly into the Child position like Stain did- his simplistic naïveté does mean he often plays a Child-like role in our favorite Forced Family dynamic. And the way that Duck and Red can often condescend to him can… very well mirror the condescending way the teachers address all three of them.

Especially when you also consider the similar manner both the Teachers and Red + Duck react to Yellow being fully charged in ‘Electricity’. They are all so nervous about Yellow breaking away from his supposed ‘role’ as the Stupid One. 

And they especially all seem so very insecure about the idea that Yellow might be smarter than they are.

And that’s, you know, also an aspect of children’s education that tends to actually harm children and their curiosity. This desire for ‘respect’ towards authority figures and this egotistical need for teachers and parents to always be smarter than their kids - causing them to subtly or bluntly punish children for just being clever or inquisitive. 

It’s, you know “I’m the adult, you are the child. I am supposed to be the Smart and Knowledgeable one and you are the one who must be taught. And you need to play your role!”

Again, that seems to be the whole thing in ‘Time’.

Here it’s a lot more subtle and less openly hostile, but Yellow can tell that just like that Insurance Teacher,  Red and Duck’s egos have also been hurt by the fact that they might not be smarter than Yellow Guy anymore. And he considers going back to the role he’s ‘supposed to be’, even though being fully-charged seems to feel better for him (‘this doesn’t feel wrong’), just for them. 

That’s almost literally a child giving up on a pursuit of knowledge just to placate his parental figures. 

And then, you know, his refusal to do so and his assertion of his own ability to make decisions for himself (his own maturity, "they're not in charge of us anymore" "Maybe they never were") is directly what leads to him ascending and disassembling not just the trio’s dynamic but the very structure of the Format. 

And I think, it’s not just that Red and Duck’s treatment of Yellow mirrors the way the teachers treat the Three of Them - it might be a result of it as well. With how condescending the teachers are towards them in general, bullying Yellow is their way to assert some sort of maturity and intelligence for themselves. It's super-fucked up, but this is how they internalized expressing what ‘intelligence’ is supposed to look like. And they have no frame of reference for a way of feeling smart or in control that doesn’t involve shutting someone else down. Because that's what literally every authority figure does for them all the time.

Now, do I think that means that our trio is doomed to mirror those patterns? That they will always inevitability repeat the horrors they go through on each other and others? Well, just like with every ‘cycle of abuse’, it can always be broken. But it will take some actual understanding and self-awareness and personal healing from the trio. 

And without this, they’re not just trapped within the Horrors physically, but also spiritually as well. Without it, no matter if they do manage to run away, on some level, their journey will always end up back at home....