#just a whole lot of stressors piling up

[flufflecat]

Feeling stressed? Here's one surefire trick to make any difficult day a little easier to cope with:

experience a murder threat

[gallusrostromegalus]

oh my god I am frothing at the mouth PLEASE tell us about how Unohana is SO WEIRD ACTUALLY

(her reveal is my favorite thing in the whole series and I was obsessed with Bleach for a good long time)

I love Unohana. She's magnificently insane and deliciously fun to write so far.

My take on AEIWAM Unohana is that fundamentally, she just wants to be happy.

Oh, that doesn't sound too nuts. I hear you say.

Yeah, but I also headcanon that she has ADHD. We joke a lot about it on this site, but if you have the good fortune to have functioning dopamine factories, allow me to explain the worst part of it, for me.

There's no passive happiness.

Most people, as I understand it, if left to their own devices without undue stressors like capitalism or any particular stimulation, tend to be able to feel pretty okay most of the time. Which fascinates me because if I am left alone without undue stressors but no stimulation, my malfunctioning dopamine factories will shut down and I will rapidly develop a terrible black depression and paranoia that life is cruel and I will never experience happiness again and also my appetite vanishes and sleep cycle collapses and I will end up mentally and physically distraught, sometimes in less than an hour.

So I've always got to be doing something, or The Horrors get me.

So imagine Unohana, and with a brain that wants to die if she gets bored... living in fantasy magical ancient japan. Not much to do, out in the early days of the soul society, besides being attatcked by monsters, or participating in warfare, or starving to death. the first two, at least, get the blood pumping, but the first is difficult to come by regularly, so as a young woman, the most interesting thing that happens to her on the regular is Mortal Combat.

And how exciting it is! Adrenaline! Dopamine! And on the rare occasions she meets a fellow combat enthusiast, she also gets one of the best things about ADHD- Recognition Responsive Euphoria. You know that great feeling you get at Con or meeting another person with your special interest and you guys just VIBE and it feels like you've been best friends for life in less than five minutes? Yeah, apparently Non-ADHD people don't get that.

So naturally, she develops her skill in combat, not in pursuit of Honor or The Art or something nebulous like, that, but in the simple Pursuit of Happiness. She gets very good at it, and a lot of people die.

But she starts getting... too good at it. The fights don't last, there's nobody willing- let alone able, to meet her on her level and the previous joy she felt fades and fades until she is once again left in the darkness.

Then, a Miracle happens! Some punk stabs her in the lung :)

Man, what an evening for her. Kills a hundred men with barely a stroke and there's no more joy in the world for her when suddenly some barely-legal scarecrow looking bastard with a raggedy sword he pulled out of someone else's corpse appears at the top of the pile of bodies and then goes Ape. Fucking. Shit. on her.

It's the most fun she's had in ages! He's strong and fast and his moves are inefficient but delightfully unpredictable and by the GODS the STAMINA! Alright, she might be 1,000 years his senior but in the soul society age really is just a number and she can't help but be charmed.

So she flirts back by nearly cutting his face off. This DELIGHTS him!

And there it is again, that sudden feeling of intimacy between like-minded individuals, only these two ships aren't passing in the night, there' here to make Titanic 2: Electric Boogaloo. They make eye contact, and know-they're just like me.

True Love is a wonderful thing.

It's also a great opportunity for a surprise thrust and she only sort of manages to block it, and despite the feeling of blood pooling in her lung, she returns the blow full across his chest.

She staggers back, coughing.

He, miraculously, sits up, coughing. He won't die if he can crawl off somewhere to lick his wounds, but he can't continue the fight either.

She stands up, teeth gritted through the pain, and sheathes Minazuki. "What's your name?" She asks. "So I may find you to fight again."

"Don't have one." he wheezes. "But I'll never forget yours."

She's had men spit that as a threat to her before. It sounds very different as a declaration of love.

"Yachiru." she says, trying to not cough up blood. "Unohana Yachiru."

*

A Year later, there's a problem.

Soul Society has a bit of a problem with lungs. They can make entire fake bodies for shinigami to travel the living world, but individual organs, especially lungs... never seem to transplant well. Perhaps it's the fact they're already dead.

Her left lung is "healed" in the sense that it no longer has extraneous holes in it, but... Godsdammit, she still has all the power but none of the stamina. Barely 10 minutes into a fight and she's wheezing worse than The Old Man. 20 minutes and her hands are starting to shake and she's seeing spots in her eyes because she can't breathe well enough to keep the oxygen in her veins. Her fights usually last seconds so functionally she's still one of the most powerful people in the afterlife but it's a far cry from where she was before.

She can no longer be the 11th division's Kenpachi. Hell, she can no longer be the woman she was before.

"Unless you figure out some new medical miracles, this is as healed as it's going to get." Explains the chief medical officer after yet another frustrating checkup.

"...If that's what it takes." She decides.

The next morning she re-enrolls in the Shinigami Academy, under the name Unohana Retsu. The sole change she makes to her appearence is to braid her hair down the front of her chest because people WILL ask about the scar, and she doesn't want to think about how badly she's letting down that warrior with no name.

Either she needs to learn how to get back to his level, or find a new rival and learn to heal them to actually last the 20 minutes she has, or she'll die.

She studies.

To her vast surprise, bodies are actually fascinating. She'd previously seen that there were lots of interesting organs inside people but now learning what they are and how they work and the fact that the human body is already astonishingly death-resistant compared to most animals AND a carefully balanced meat sculpture minutes away from catastrophic failure at all times delights. She learns about the extreme ways humans can survive and the bizarrely mundane ways they can die, and she starts to form an idea- not an image, not a philosophy per se- but a working theory of how to keep someone alive and moving for as long and far as they will go, and what they need to stay upright.

This idea shines so brightly that it can keep that terrible darkness away.

The century practically flies by, and one night she stays up manually pumping the mechanism on a device used to keep the also-failing lungs of a young boy going after the power goes out. He's been blessed by A God that he's lived as long as he has, but even Gods can fuck up sometimes and she effectively has to breathe for him for twelve hours until the God gets its shit back together and he can breathe under his own power again.

"Hell of a fight you put in, keeping him alive." says one of her colleagues, collapsing beside her out in the 4th division medical garden where all the doctors go to smoke.

Retsu slowly exhales the smoke, fatigued but still coming down from the high of success. She cocks her head. Her body aches and her mind races and her heart thrills, just like- "I guess it was. " she realizes. "Interesting fight, going 12 hours in the ring with a dying child and winning because he walked away at the end." She laughs, and hands him the cigarette to share.

"You weirdo." he colleague laughs. He's far too young to remember when she was Yachiru. Most of them are these days, and it's a weird sort of peaceful anonymity and personal joke. "You weren't fighting the kid. If we were actually allowed to fight patients, I'd've stabbed the Kuchki hypochondriac decades ago." he grumbles, taking his own drag.

She snorts. "Who was I fighting then?"

"Death?" smoke billows out as he laughs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She freezes. Oh. Oh. That's why she likes this so much. She's gone from fighting mere men to the one opponent she knows she can win battles with, but never the war, and who will defeat her personally someday.

"Are. Are you crying?" he asks, a little worried.

"I- yes." She laughs, tears streaming down her face. "I just fell in love all over again."

"Ouch." he nods sympathetically, offering her the cigarette back. "Who with?"

"Death's own Angel, apparently." She giggles, feeling positively prepubescent with this crush.

And thus she goes on, for centuries, learning everything there is to know about bodies and minds and how the two keep each other going and the ways she can help. She gets very good at it, and a many more people do not die.

But there is a special, secret place in her heart for that nameless warrior that defeated her in battle, and made her stronger than every before.

*

Nearly 1,000 years after she stopped being Kenpachi, she is supervising the annual "see if you can kill the captain" tournament. Her colleague Kaname is there, a walking anxiety disorder with undoubtedly real but strangely hard to diagnose phantom pains, but he's still easily in her top 10 coworkers of all time because he made her a new medical record filing system so functional they were actually able to recataloge three millennia of medical records into a usable format in under a decade. He can come twitching into her office any time he likes, especially if it gets her that mass vaccination process for the Rukongai he's been biting The Old Man's heels for.

Then

as suddenly as he had appeared the first time,

He's back.

He's older now and larger, having matured into a spectacular bastard, but there's no mistaking that cutting edge on his reiatsu (which, oh, that has gotten much, much stronger since last time) or that scar running down his face as he turns from where he had just cleft the previous Kenpachi in twain, and stares out into the crowd in the shower of blood, challenging anyone to do something about it. Hell, even when Yamamoto appears to congratulate him on his promotion, Death's own angel's first reaction is to turn to fight the old man without hesitation.

He then promptly picks three different fights with four captains in under five minutes, tells Yamamoto to shove the job up his ass, imply he's had a WILD collection of vocations in the last millennium and furthermore, he has to get home to his daughter.

...Named Yachiru.

Hilariously, Unohana is only having the second weirdest time about this here, because Kaname and Kenpachi are, somehow, even weirder than she is.

[endcrman]

Allostasis

(Chapter 4)

As a general rule of thumb, Grian doesn’t do public servers for a multitude of reasons. This one hadn’t even made it onto the list.

TW for PTSD symptoms, Self-Neglect, and minor Disordered Eating (All of these very minor in this chapter)

Read the whole fic here. (Here for Ao3/mobile.)

-

Getting back into the swing of things was easier said than done, Grian quickly found out. Nobody expected him to be normal again immediately, nobody except for himself, which was enough of a stressor he didn’t need.

He wasn’t prepared for the effort it took him to not just start wallowing in bed again, every morning began with a fight to get himself out of bed. Most days he managed, others he needed a little help. He tried not to think about how when he wasn’t out in a couple hours, somebody was flying by and checking in on him, he tried not to think about how much work he was being for everyone else.

He didn't like being work, he didn't like being an issue, even if everyone insisted he wasn't, he knew better.

He knew if it weren't for the week he spent in bed by himself, he wouldn't be receiving so many gifted meals. “Leftovers” he was told they were, as if anyone had leftovers in this server, he was being coddled; but damn if it wasn't the best he'd eaten in months, even with the guilt that piled on with every meal.

When he could, he threw himself into his own work, be it fishing, building, or being harassed by his friends at the permit office. It helped him feel normal again, being able to pretend nothing had been wrong in the first place.

“Hey Grian!”

Like he’d been doing just now.

“How’s the fishing going?” Gem had come up behind him without him noticing, which seemed to happen often while he was focused on the river. Not Gem specifically, just in general.

“Lots of junk,” he glanced over to see Gem without pulling his attention away from the bobber in the water for too long. “Plenty of fish though too, you hungry?”

She laughed a little, sitting on a nearby barrel. “I think I’m doing alright. What are you fishing for today anyways?”

What was he fishing for? He already caught his mending book a while ago, it was just a good mindless activity. He shrugged, reeling in the next bite, a cod. “Good to get me out and moving,” he admitted, casting again. “Keeps me from wasting away in bed all day.”

Gem was quiet for a bit, which made him nervous. “I’m proud of you,” she said after a while, which made him scrunch up his face.

“Ugh, no, no serious talk,” he said, laughing a little to try and lighten the mood. “Come be normal and fish with me. I need normal.”

“Okay, okay,” she laughed right back, getting off the barrel to join him on the dock, sitting down to dip her feet in the water as she rummaged around for her own rod. “Let’s be normal together, whatever that is.”

“Normal for us,” Grian reiterated, soon realizing just how much his own feet were starting to hurt, just how long had he been out here? Eventually he was joining Gem, sitting cross-legged next to her. “So what’s your angle here?”

“My angle,” Gem repeated, reeling in and casting out again before she continued. “Why do I need an angle? Can’t I just want to hang out with my fishing buddy?”

“Nobody wants to just hang out with me right now,” Grian realized how bad that sounded as soon as it came out of his mouth, wincing. “I mean- that’s not-”

“I get it,” Gem interrupted him, and he let out a relieved sigh at not having to explain himself. “I’m not here to mother hen you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just missed you.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled, watching as his bobber sank beneath the water, too distracted to pull it back. “You wouldn't believe all the attention I'm getting right now, it's embarrassing.”

Another successful catch and cast from Gem. “We all feel a little guilty for not noticing sooner,” she explained, keeping her own gaze focused on the water. “I can't speak for everyone, of course, but we're trying to make up for it, I think.”

“We're veering off into serious territory again, Gem,” Grian warned, though he did nothing to stop it, hypocritical as he was. “Don't feel guilty, okay? It's not your fault, it's not anybody's fault.” Just his own. 

She barked a laugh at that, finally tearing her eyes away from the water again. “Easier said than done, but I'll try. You'll just have to convince everyone else now. You know Mumbo's worked himself up into a mess about all this, right?”

He grimaced, reeling in his empty line to set the rod aside, laying back on the dock to look up at the sky. Yeah, he knew. “I'm fine now, obviously. He knows he can just come talk to me, instead of sending you to do it.”

“Hey! I came here of my own volition!” Gem scoffed, sounding teasingly offended. “My ulterior motive is totally different from whatever he's got going on.”

Grian quirked a brow, turning his head to look at Gem again, who had a grin on her face now. “Ulterior motive, you say?”

“Well…” She drawled, reeling in another catch before setting her rod aside as well. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes when she finally looked back over at him. “You didn't hear it from me, but I think my little snail friend has been missing her usual company as well.”

It was almost embarrassing, how quickly he sat up at the mere mention of mischief. “Aw, I'm sorry to hear that. I could probably pass the message along,” he hummed, resting his chin on his hand as if deep in thought. That didn't last long though, soon enough he had a grin that matched Gem's, far too excited at the prospect to play coy. “I wonder if they’d like to see just how much Scar’s train has grown since the last time they visited.”

Gem threw her head back and laughed, scrambling to her feet. “I’m sure that’d be fantastic enrichment for them, we should see what they think.”

Grian followed her up, groaning as he was standing again on his own aching feet, but he was too excited to complain, adrenaline already pumping through his veins. “I bet I can beat you there,” he challenged, darting off before Gem could even react and cackling when she finally did shout out behind him.

He could almost hear her footsteps in the grass behind him, her own laughter quiet compared to the wind whipping past his ears as he picked up speed. Scar’s build wasn’t too far from his dock, thankfully, but he could already feel his lungs aching. He yelped as he tripped, just about falling head over heels as he rolled the last couple of feet, sprawled out on the grass as the world spun around him.

“Grian!” Gem sounded worried, and her steps slowed down as she stopped next to him, looking down from above. “Are you okay?”

He blinked, the world finally settling around him, then he cackled again and the worried look slid right off of Gem's face. “Never better!” He wheezed, starting to push himself up. Once he was sitting and catching his breath, he fluffed up his wings for a second so the feathers would lay flat again, slightly askew from his tumble. He was sure he looked like a mess in other ways too, grass stains on his knees and elbows, wild-eyed and flushed, but he couldn't bring himself to care, laughing again as Gem offered a hand to help haul him up on his feet once more.

Hearing Gem's laughter in return, he felt lighter than he had in a long time. “You are ridiculous,” she scolded, snickering regardless. “If that was a fair race I totally would have beat you.”

“Pfft, what? That was absolutely fair,” he bluffed, crossing his arms, though the look Gem gave him had him laughing yet again. “Okay. Okay, next time it'll be fair. Snails now?”

There was a pause, Gem narrowing her gaze as she crossed her own arms, but soon enough her grin was breaking through once more. “Alright, snails now.”

The two of them definitely didn't do anything but supervise as the snails did their work, eager to harass Scar and his build yet again. It really was a beautiful train so far, Grian almost felt guilty setting loose base-eating snails on it. Almost. They were small enough that the damage was barely there, just enough to be annoying, which was always his goal.

He and Gem were giggling again when they finally parted ways for the evening, prank left behind for Scar to find later, depending on when he decided to return home. Grian had his own goal now, the time with Gem making him realize just how much he missed his other friends too. Even when he was actively trying to take care of himself he was isolating and he hadn't even realized it. What else was he doing wrong?

Instead of dwelling, he found himself outside of Mumbo's base, the Mothball or whatever— surely he could come up with a better name than that, right? Cupping his hands around his mouth, he realized how helpful a horn would be in this situation. “Hey! Mumbo!”

Mumbo’s face looking through the barred windows startled him, he was almost expecting to have to go on a server-wide search he didn’t think he had the energy for. “Grian?” His eyes widened, and Grian could see his mustache curl into a smile even from this distance. “Hang on a moment, I’ll be right down!” And he disappeared again.

Grian had to stifle his laughter as Mumbo all but fell out of the hanging base, a hand clamped over his mouth as he tried to keep quiet. He mostly had it under control by the time Mumbo was up on his feet again, suit rumpled and hair sticking up in all sorts of directions. “Hi Mumbo,” his amusement was obvious, even without the laughter.

Before anything else could happen he was swept up in Mumbo’s arms, the sudden action forcing a squeak out of him as his feet left the ground, kicking a little. “Mumboooo!” He wailed, the dam holding back his laughter bursting once again. He stumbled when he was finally allowed to touch the ground again, arms out to keep his balance.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mumbo didn’t sound too sorry, more for the inconvenience than what he’d actually done, mirroring Grian’s smile with laughter in his own voice. “I just- I’ve missed you is all,” his tone petered off into something a bit more nervous as he wrung his hands together, “Scar told me a bit of what happened.”

Those words were spine chilling, and Grian felt his face fall. “He did?”

“No details!” Mumbo quickly assured him, hands landing on his shoulders. “He- he told me you weren’t telling Joel either so-” Grian felt himself relaxing a little as Mumbo squeezed gently. “He told me that something… serious happened, when we went offworld. I thought that maybe- but I- you were-” He sighed, hanging his head. “I’m sorry, Grian, truly.”

“Oh, Mumbo, no,” Grian tilted his own head forwards, bumping foreheads with his friend. “Is that why you haven’t come to see me yet?” He asked, trying to tease, “too busy feeling guilty?” Mumbo opened his mouth and closed it again, gaping a little like a fish, which meant his answer was yes, and he just didn’t want to admit it. Grian sighed, pulling away a little so Mumbo’s hands slid off his shoulders, taking one of them in his own. “Come on. We’re hanging out, no guilty feelings on my watch. Done and over with, show me what you’ve been working on.”

Mumbo perked up at that, like he always did when Grian asked about his redstone. “Well, you see, since I figured out how to get up into my base, I’ve started working on a way to categorize and organize my builds,” he said beginning to tug Grian along to show him just what he was working on, gesturing as he spoke, “if you break it down to it’s bare components it’s quite simple actually-”

Grian almost laughed at that— simple, as if— but instead he let Mumbo’s words wash over him, nodding and humming as expected. He might not have been picking up on too much of the specifics of the redstone, but it wasn’t like it was something he’d be using himself, the time spent with Mumbo was much more valuable than any redstone engineering.

“—and you’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

The words Mumbo was actually saying finally parsed in Grian’s brain, after however long of just listening without comprehending, and it made him squawk in offense. “I am too! You’ve got a- um- it’s like… a modified passcode kind of thing,” Grian bit his lower lip, waving his hand a little. “Right?”

Mumbo smiled so warmly at that, and the nod he got almost had him celebrating outwardly too. “Did you guess that, or were you actually listening to me?”

“A little bit of both,” Grian admitted with a snicker, shrugging slightly. “Sorry, I just like being here with you.” He didn’t mean for that to come out as mushy as it did, but Mumbo only looked even happier at the confession, so he didn’t mind quite too much. “Don't let it go to your head,” he tried to save.

“Aw, Grian,” Mumbo wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a side hug even as he pouted. “I like being here with you too.”

Grian huffed, reluctantly leaning into the other, his hesitance more for show than anything else. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he sighed, relaxing even more after a moment. He definitely didn’t stretch out a wing around Mumbo, and thankfully the other knew better than to comment on it, eventually continuing to explain the redstone in front of them; and Grian was actually starting to pick up on a couple of things. It wasn’t like he was clueless about redstone, he’d built a couple of contraptions at this point! He just hadn’t picked up quite the amount of knowledge Mumbo had yet.

“Are you getting tired?” Were the next couple of words directed at him, having Grian blinking his eyes open and lifting his head off of Mumbo’s shoulder.

“Huh?”

He heard Mumbo’s laugh, shaking him awake from his half-asleep daze, bringing him back to reality. “I asked if you were getting tired, but I think that’s answer enough. Let’s get you home, birdie.”

He scrunched up his face at the nickname, which just made Mumbo laugh again. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need to,” he protested, even as he allowed Mumbo to take the lead, undoubtedly leading him back to his base regardless.

“You’ve practically been sleepwalking the past half hour,” he sounded amused at least, rather than bothered or annoyed. “I appreciate the company, especially after so long, but you don’t need to stay up for my sake, G.”

“I can take care of myself, you know,” Grian huffed, falling in step with him, “nobody thinks so but I can, I’m a grown man damn it,” he wasn’t even mad at Mumbo specifically, he didn’t think he could be truly. “I shouldn’t have to be anybody’s responsibility.”

Mumbo was quiet, waiting for him to finish it seemed, because he only spoke when it seemed Grian wasn’t going to continue. “Nobody’s saying you aren’t, Grian,” his voice was purposefully even and patient, “but you’re going through a rough time, and we don’t want you to come out the other end hurt, or worse.”

He scowled a little at the thought, shaking his head. “But I’m fine now, I don’t need everyone babying me because they’re scared I’m going to- to-” He gestured with his hands, something he couldn’t describe. “-I don’t even know! But I’m not going to, I’m fine!” Even hanging out with Gem earlier, even though she had promised she wasn’t going to treat him like that, there was something unspoken in the air; and now with Mumbo too.

“Grian, I’m not trying to start an argument with you right now,” Mumbo rolled his eyes, Grian was sure of it, even if he couldn’t see it. He was being ridiculous after all. “Everybody here needs a bit of help sometimes, you just got unlucky enough that everyone else noticed, instead of just me or Pearl.”

“Scar and Joel and their blabbermouths,” Grian mumbled, kicking at the grass as they continued to walk.

“They mean well,” he was reminded.

“I know, that’s why it sucks that I can’t be mad at them,” he sighed, “everybody here means well. Bane of my existence, being cared for,” he snorted, even if Mumbo didn’t laugh with him that time.

“Grian…”

“I just wish you guys would tell me when I’m too much, I know I am sometimes,” he pouted, “I’ve been told before.” Mostly it was just when a prank went a little too far, and he had to help clean up and was told not to do it again. Which was just fine and totally fair, he just wished they’d do the same here.

“Grian, that’s not-”

“I wouldn’t get upset, even! I’d rather you guys tell me instead of working so hard to coddle me,” Grian cut him off. “Let me handle myself before I scare everyone away,” he sighed, voice dropping in volume as he crossed his arms tightly, almost hugging himself. “Sorry.”

Mumbo stopped walking, turning to face him again, and Grian couldn’t help but shrink even more under his gaze. “Grian…” Hands on his cheeks gently tilted his head up, forcing him to make eye contact as much as he was trying to avoid it. “Everyone’s trying to help because they want to, not because they feel like they have to. We like you, you’re our friend, and we hate seeing you hurt. I know you have a hard time accepting it, but you deserve it, okay? You’re not too much, and you’re not scaring anyone away.”

He wasn’t going to cry, he refused. He sniffled softly, looking away. “Okay.” Grian took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment. “... Thank you.”

“Any time, G.” Mumbo’s hand found his shoulder again, just a gentle pressure that soon slid off. “Will you be okay tonight, when you get home?” Alone remained unsaid, though implied.

He opened his eyes again, meeting Mumbo’s eyes on purpose now. “I think so, yeah. You could always check in on me tomorrow, make sure I’m not getting up to any trouble?”

That made Mumbo smile again, easing the growing tension. “You are known to get up to trouble, true. I suppose I better put it on my calendar.” 

Grian laughed, finally starting towards his base again, checking behind himself to make sure he was being followed. “Don’t lie to me, you don’t have a calendar.”

“I could! You don’t know that,” Mumbo protested, then after a moment or two he sighed, hanging his head. “No, you’re right. I don’t.”

“I know you,” Grian scolded, snickering softly, he almost didn’t notice as they finally made it to his base, sun setting in the distance. “... No more avoiding me, okay?”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” Mumbo’s answer was immediate, then he looked a little guilty again. “No, I… I’m sorry. I’ll be over tomorrow, I promise.”

He smiled softly, nodding. “Good, I'll hold you to that,” he hummed, hesitating before giving Mumbo a quick hug, pulling away just as quickly. Mumbo had his own smile back, and Grian considered that a success. They split easily after that, Mumbo headed back to his base as Grian made his way up into his own.

Honestly, he was almost too excited to sleep. He found himself in his bed too easily, comfortable under the covers, but otherwise tossing and turning, thinking about tomorrow. It was a little ridiculous, he thought, they hadn't even made proper plans, but he couldn't help it, eager for things to be like they were again.

He was finally pulled out of his futile attempts at sleep by his comm going off, notification distinct from that 

samgladiator: hey. i know youre ignoring me and that's totally fine and i get it, i promise.

samgladiator: but ellen found out i had your comm address and basically begged me to let you know they say hi, lol. they said they miss you

Grian's stomach lurched, and he quickly hit the power again, turning off the screen. No, he wasn't thinking about this tonight. He took a deep breath, holding it in. He hadn’t spoken to Ellen in ages, he’d wager it had been over a decade even. They still thought about him?

He let out a slow breath, feeling his heartbeat slowing just a bit, he hadn’t even noticed how much it had sped up in the first place. He wasn’t going to freak out, he refused. Grian took another deep breath, setting his comm aside as he continued breathing deeply, laying back onto his bed.

Tomorrow. This was all a problem for tomorrow.

[d3ard3ughter]

Dumping some OMORI he's! First up, Sunny!

- Sunny is pretty delayed mentally due to reverting to childhood as such as a coping mechanism as well as the delay of being home for four years after Mari's death when he was 12 just sleeping and doing the bare minimum to care for himself alongside the neglect from his mother so alongside physical growth he is mentally stunted. mentally for a while, he is 12

- Kel is usually the one being told he stinks/hj but you know it bad when Kel is shoving Sunny to shower or something because of how long he's neglected himself people don't wanna talk about how long you neglect themselves with depression and stuff and how bad it is I think he rarely bathed during those four years and the trauma heightened everything too so that near drowning experience before made him just not wanna be in water too and just some sensory related issues with water

- he has very sensitive hearing and tons of sensory issues He gets overstimulated easily and it is a whole mess because he can't express himself well

- he's autistic and selectively mute adhd too

- he uses sign language alongside just physical contact and stuff and or communication cards and just writing stuff

- Sunny goes non-verbal even if it's not stressful but it's just a big thing and all or a stressor he reverts

- still childish due to the lack of aging mentally and just trying to keep it the way it was before per se And is also on the late developmental spectrum of autism

- he said his first words p late at 3-4 and it was "Mari" but Sunny had a bit of a speech impediment so speech therapy and it was "mawi" for ages

- he's Japanese & Korean English he speaks both but he had difficulties in learning someKorean was mainly at home and English outside but

- yk the raw steak and all thing? That is no longer his favorite food it makes him sick

- Sunny used to wear Mari's clothes a lot whether or not they were old He likes skirts in general a lot The cotton flowy ones because they aren't restricting

- Sunny's voice is developed well due to lack of speech so it hurts to speak at times and it's just raspy and all his baby face does not go with the deep quiet voice he has

- Sunny's bi and he had a crush on Aubrey as implied in canon and also Basil

- he has a collection of stuffed animals and blankets that he's piled on his bed the only thing is it's not messy like you'd expect it's meticulously organized was his side of the room and Mari's was a "mess" but she knew where everything was

- Sunny tends to mimic people a lot especially those he is close with like Mari for example

- After the good ending, Sunny grows his hair out to be like Mari's. Unlike before when he hadn't realized how long it'd grown in the past and had to cut it from sheer panic

- artistic v much so that he likes to draw and write shit but most of it will never see the light of day despite the horrifyingly good detailed nightmare fuel he wants hero to hang up on the fridge

- Mari and Hero's nickname for him is "Sunshine"

- Mari named Sunny because he straight up was a nameless baby for ages and she called him Sunny and he stuck

- Sunny sounds sarcastic and dry and all in everything even when he isn't and it's almost Mirroring Mari's issues in sounding rude and not genuine so they both have to overcompensate

- Sunny has RSD.

- severe separation anxiety

- I think he is still kinda religious he believes in god but that's about it especially because it kinda got shoved down his and Mari's throats as kids he stuck to it but Mari drifted away really

- Sunny is just really dense romantically to for any of the ships the others just have to yank him and say it straight up for him to realize hey, something there

- He doesn't register any flirting or sarcasm

- v sensitive but he just wasn't raised to think it safe to cry or put it out there he was very emotional when he was little and it was overwhelming with no outlet

- high sympathy autistic actually and it a probably meanwhile Maris low empathy autistic

- Sunny becomes a tattoo artist as an adult in the good ending

- Sunny doesn't register flirting or is good at it but he can be kinda bold about things without thinking about it and he catches everyone off guard

- Sunny is very clumsy

- he's anemic so that and being a klutz result in so many Hero questions about him and he's like?? I don't know where that bruise is from

- he was a preemie (born prematurely) so more stunted growth too

- v sick kid all of the time

- woo pulmonary fibrosis

- iron deficiency squad member/HJ

- Sunny is very sarcastic as a person and he doesn't even realize it either but at the same time he is somewhat aware he will get punched if you allow him to say what he wants most of the time He says something so out of pocket and promptly stops verbalizing anything

- Sunny's knife is his emotional support, he snatched it from Hero & Kel's kitchen so when Kel takes it from him he realizes that was the missing knife and is like?? "Why do you have our knife???"

- Mari & Hero would always Kiss injuries better for the younger kid and Sunny is convinced it still worked so Basil does it for Sunny's eye when sunny stabbed Aubrey he tried to do that to apologize and Aubrey was like "WHAT THE FUCK??"

- Sunny has a scar where his eye was stabbed He goes between just with his eye/socket or just an eyepatch too

- has to wear sunscreen just to go outside or else he will just be burned. (It's good to protect yourself anyway) but Sunny is just so pale and sensitive skin and Mari always ingrained it into him to lather sunscreen to go outside

- Sunny is hard of hearing

- he narrates himself whenever he's stressed

- so sunny isn't good at expressing himself and he got it from mimicking how Mari handles herself So when he can't verbalize his feelings and all and she isn't getting any the hints no matter what he resorted to throwing and breaking the violin as the I'm fed up to get her attention and it backfired because before she's find out the problem becomes she understood breaking things as a means id expressing because I see her having the issue as a kid and just she realizes it's not socially acceptable so its put more like Squeezing things and nails in her hands type thing but she just assumes sunny was doing it to make her made rather rhan expressing jt

The autistic to autistic communication is not communicating and Sunny wanted to verbalize it and react to the overwhelming emotions without hurting himself or someone else so he acted out on the violin but Mari, his safe space, getting so angry and for a skittish kid and sensitive one he felt threatened and was scared so it resulted in the shove

- He particularly mimics Mari a lot in general so they share a lot of habits and all because of the mimicking and just being family and close but she is his go-to if he has to mimic and he doesn't even realize he's doing it

Mari and everyone thought it was cute at first until Mari realized oh he's doing what I do

- I also think Mari & Sunny's parents weren't particularly good about dealing with Sunny selective mutism and also his neutral expression that was only ever changed when he cried or something and Sunny attempted to poorly

[waitmyturtles]

Hi! I wanted to first of all say I've deeply enjoyed what you've written about various shows, especially your observations, meditations, insights, etc. around family dynamics, intergenerational trauma, etc. For MLC, I've been chewing over some parts of Jim and Li Ming's relationship. It was interesting to see how quickly their interactions became positive and easy after that post-funeral conversation and understanding, and it made me think that their relationship probably had a good foundation, that we met them at a time where it was strained and deteriorating to a crisis point, but since they were able to resolve their conflict they could return to and even build on the baseline they already had. I've thought about the way Jim and Li Ming are so similar being part of the reason they clash so much. I've thought about the way the past casts such a long shadow in Jim's heart. I've thought about how Jim said he and Jam ran away from home when they were Li Ming's age. There is a thing I've read and heard brought up by therapists and even seen discussed in parenting advice columns, where someone will experience something traumatic when they are young, and they'll grow up, be raising children, and when the children reach the same age they were when they experienced The Thing, the trauma can come roaring back in a big way. I wonder if that period in Jim's life--running away young and trying to eke out a living--was particularly hard/traumatic, and if Li Ming entering that same stage in life, with its very similar concerns of poverty and queerness (plus the pile-up of stressors we see happen in the show) is part of what's activating so much fear and overwhelm in Jim. There's a distinct quality to Jim in the worst of these fights where it seemed to me like he wasn't fully present, that the shadow cast by those past fears and hurts was just so very strong in those moments it was overwhelming. (I also think a lot about the fact that he refuted Jam's attempt to place blame on Li Ming being gay on himself, and refuted it being wrong or blameworthy at all, but then confided in Wen that he couldn't help but blame himself--that ambivalence of refuting the Wrong Idea on the one hand but deep down worrying that the Wrong Idea might be true was, in form if not in specific content, astoundingly relatable to me, I felt such overwhelming empathy for Jim there, but that's a different conversation) It was noticing this about Jim's arguments, and Jim's comments about him and Jam running away around Li Ming's age, that set me on this particular path of reflecting. That, and seeing how quickly things got better for them after some breakthrough communication... I thought if things could so quickly turn out this well, surely their baseline must have been better than the dynamic with which we were introduced to them--how and why, then, did it get so bad? I dunno, I just thought this could be one of the pieces of the puzzle of Why Jim Was Being Like That. Anyways, thanks for reading and being your awesome self <3

Oh, dearest Anon. Thank you so much for the wonderful feedback, and for this beautiful write-up, which isn't really an ask, but actually a FABULOUS STANDALONE ANALYSIS -- I'm deeply touched you directed it my way, my heart is so full. (This is going to be a long response.)

You know me well (thank you for reading along, dear Anon!), and I was just thinking about this during dinner last night. I was thinking more on @wen-kexing-apologist's wonderful post, "Moonlight Chicken Is for the Queers," and why I'm so drawn in particular to Asian QL content, even though I'm a cishet mama.

I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for drama content about Asian families, created as intelligently and CRITICALLY as P'Aof and his related group of directors and screenwriters have done over the last few years. Watching these shows -- even though I am not queer -- is like art therapy for me. As a child of Asian immigrants, my sibs and I went through a lot, a lot. I'm reckoning with this shit now as a parent, maybe even à la Jim and Li Ming. I can totally relate to traumatic stuff from my past bubbling up in the course of my parenting -- the way I TALK to my kids, the way I interpret something they're doing as annoying, or (EVEN WORSE) them doing something "on purpose to annoy me" -- when in fact, my kids are being totally normal for their age. I have to check myself every second of every day, and it's exhausting.

We -- all of us as an audience -- I think, are very lucky to be watching this art at this moment in time. Even with the context of this material being set in a QL, I'm seeing other non-QL GMMTV shows tackle huge trauma issues (like 10 Years Ticket, which I highly recommend, and I can't wait to start on The Warp Effect, too, which I know is QL-ish). While the context of a QL provides a framework and structure around stories that feature minority figures, I believe that P'Aof and the other amazing GMMTV artists are saying something in their shows about the Asian cultures that I am from and relate to. The Asian family unit is A -- if not, THE -- dominant framework of an Asian individual's perspective on life, for their lives. I'm American, so I absolutely have grappled with this Asian family collectivist vision and the inherent contradiction of living in individualistic America. But that's why I watch these shows, and can even relate to the struggles of queer characters in these shows, even without being queer. Because being "different" in the Asian family unit is just DIFFICULT, no matter how you slice it. (I was different because... I wanted to stand up to my parents, which was not acceptable, no way, no how.) And perceptions about the Asian family unit absolutely bleed into general Asian societal viewpoints as well.

Anyway. My desire to learn more about families and who we are vis à vis family frameworks actually led me to my career, ha. With that in mind, a couple of other response points:

1) If you (or anyone out there) ever plan on becoming a parent, I would HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading an amazing book called "Parenting From the Inside Out" by Dan Siegel. In fact, I'd probably just recommend this book to anyone who wants to get to know THEMSELVES at any point in their lives, children or no children. The book essentially says: if you don't reckon with your past, and how you were raised, and how you developed and REACTED to that experience -- you will miss out on opportunities for real self-actualization as a parent and as an adult.

Anon, you mentioned that at times, Jim didn't seem to be "fully present" in fights with Li Ming, and I totally agree with that read. I want to note that being "fully present" is like "enlightenment" to me. It is an ideal state that is tremendously difficult to achieve, especially in the minute day-to-day life of a parent, whether you're a parent to a young OR an old child.

In that context, you are so very right about the micro- and macrosystemic stressors that face Jim, and I want to take a quick note of them, because they're very real. This book is somewhat controversial (theories around education always are controversial), but gets into socioeconomic and environmental stressors: Whatever It Takes, about the founding of the Harlem Children's Zone by Geoffrey Canada. Again, many controversies exist about this model and how it's been portrayed over the years, but what I want to point out is: poverty and other socioeconomic stressors (like crime, police presence, drug use, unstable housing options, lack of food, lack of internet, etc.) can literally have both physical and emotional impacts. Brain development can literally be impacted by these stressors, even with fetuses in utero, let alone young children watching their family units face these stressors.

Jim is facing a WORLD of stress -- as the very first episode of MC laid out very clearly for us. The world is getting more expensive as vendors make less, or the same income. Absolutely, the stress of being poor and gay (sound familiar?) impacted him throughout his whole life to lead him to the moment that WE see him in the show.

This leads to my next thought:

2) You've certainly heard the phrase: "my mother, myself" -- which refers in part to repeating your parents' mistakes. (I probably say this phrase about once a day, along with a tiny scream.) If you're a parent who is trying to understand yourself from the context of WHO YOU WERE AS A CHILD, and how you were raised by YOUR OWN PARENTS, that MIGHT get you closer to that ideal state of being fully present. (That's the work that Dan Siegel recommends in his book.)

That leads to my next thought, which connects these two points together:

3) You are totally right to point out the context of Jim and Jam having moved from their rural village. They're both also hesitant about Li Ming moving to America.

What did "moving" do to Jim and Jam? We don't know that much, except that they were leaving a certain fate, to become farmers like their grandparents.

I'm going to take a guess -- borrowing both from my immigrant parents' experience, and from ATOTS, ha -- that running away HAD TO HAVE BEEN TRAUMATIC for Jim and Jam. AND, Anon, to your point about intergenerational trauma: Jim and Jam almost certainly had to have shared that trauma, unknowingly, with Li Ming.

They left their first home. Jim ran away from home while being poor and gay. Jam tried to build homes for Li Ming and failed. She sent Li Ming to live with Uncle Jim. Jim then faced the prospect of building a home for Li Ming. All while being poor and gay as an adult.

That's hit, after hit, after hit, after hit. Jim and Jam carry that with them. And Li Ming carries with him the trauma of moving, and moving, and moving, as well.

Immigrants most often don't go back "home" permanently -- certainly many do, but most don't. And yet.... "home," at least for my parents, was always back in Asia. In ATOTS, "home" for Tian WAS Bangkok, and ended up BEING the village in Chiang Mai.

In MC, what was home for Jim? Oh, my heart, how that gets revealed over the course of the show. When Wen, sleeping on Jim's lap, asks him, in the living room of Jim's rented house -- "do you take this house as a home?" For Wen, and for Jim, home ultimately was what they were going to build TOGETHER.

All of those stressors -- the moving, the identity obstacles, the poverty -- prevented Jim from being able to build a home, holistically, until he met Wen. And I might even posit, ooooh, let me go here -- I might even posit that Jim's ability to level with Li Ming, to see Li Ming for the man that Li Ming is on the cusp of becoming, happened because Jim was simultaneously in the process of discovering himself vis à vis Wen's love, by beginning to build a family with Wen. I think we see Jim developing that stronger sense of presence that you, Anon, noted wasn't there during Jim's and Li Ming's fights.

In relation to what you were saying, Anon, about when things got bad for Jim and Li Ming, I also want to note that it's just really important to understand the context of how younger Asians engage with Asian elders/parents, which @telomeke writes about eloquently here. I'm going to leave this aside in this analysis, but please note that these dynamics are also hugely important in how Jim and Li Ming are set up to engage.

(Anon, thank you for noticing my obsession with Aof and intergenerational trauma, because I haven't seen anyone in dramaworld analyze it better than him.)

In any case, I don't necessarily think that things were dualistically bad-to-good for Jim and Li Ming. I think that, likely, things were ALWAYS COMPLICATED, between an uncle facing an enormous amount of pressure and trauma; and a pre- to post-pubescent teen discovering himself, his sexuality, his first attraction, and contemplating an unknown future -- all while certainly sharing the stressors of the stand-in parent that is raising him. Shit was complicated between Jim and Li Ming, and certainly would stand to still be that way, if we ever get lucky to have an update via an MC Our Skyy 3 (let's pray together for it, ha).

4) Two more quick notes. P'Aof certainly has a genius of showing many facets to the same character, and I just love that he critically shies away from singular or dualistic interpretations of his dear characters. When, as you note, Jim doesn't play the blame game IN FRONT OF JAM, and secretly blames himself to Wen that Li Ming might be gay BECAUSE of him (Jim) -- it indicates not only the intimacy he has with Wen, that he can talk about this stuff with Wen (swoon), but it also reveals the generational perspective that certainly differs between Jim and Li Ming. Possibly, in the course of Jim's busy life, trying to survive as a gay man, working his ass off, in poverty, partly while getting cheated on by that POS, Beam -- Jim just didn't have the time or space to contemplate the roots of his understanding of who he is. (Then again... not everyone is as self-exploratory as yours truly, HEH.)

5) I totally agree with you about the foundation of Jim's and Li Ming's relationship being better than we think, even if, as you note, we were privy to some of their most stressful moments. I just want to leave this post with the screencaps of their last intimate conversation, because I think in only a few words, so much was revealed. Jim revealed himself to Li Ming. At this moment -- he parented from the inside out. He told Li Ming, admitted to the kid -- kid, you made ME a better person.

That's revelation -- the kind of adult revelation, vis à vis a parent-to-child relationship, that you really don't see happen much in Western content. And it just THRILLS me, as I've written before, that this is happening in ASIAN MEDIA, because I think Asian family units definitely are ripe for the kind of brilliant criticism that P'Aof levels at them.

ANON -- sorry to unspool like this! You gave me a lot of inspiration. I'm having such an MC hangover, and you handed this to me like a hair of the dog, ha. I hope you didn't mind this long post, and thanks again for the wonderful note!

[thethingything]

"I know you keep saying you're doing stuff to help your mental health, and I know you try to track your moods and have a routine and stuff but you really need to try harder to not get so stressed about things" bestie when I say I'm trying to help my mental health, yeah I'm doing that stuff, but I'm also:

using DBT techniques to improve my emotional regulation, which takes a lot of energy because I have to focus on taking a step back and doing that while experiencing strong emotions that make that hard

actively unlearning unhealthy coping mechanisms and trying to replace them with healthier reactions to things, which once again requires catching myself doing stuff while experiencing strong emotions that make it harder to think rationally

working through shit like core beliefs to figure out why I act in certain ways and then challenge those beliefs to slowly fix things from the ground up (have you ever dug into core beliefs? it's a great way to end up sobbing for 2 hours straight while half your life suddenly clicks together and makes sense in a way it never had before)

basically improvising exposure therapy for various triggers because I don't have access to actual therapy so I've gotta DIY this shit if I actually want to get better at handling my triggers

having to work through processing years of trauma, abuse, etc, most of which gets brought up randomly and then I have to deal with it whether I'm in a good place to do that or not

and a whole bunch of other exhausting shit I can't remember off the top of my head because I'm brain foggy and have a migraine right now

and I'm having to do all this on top of repeatedly getting so ill I can't keep up with basic chores and experience the kind of symptoms and pain levels people would normally go to the hospital for on a daily basis and just having to try and carry on as normal anyway because I have no other choice, not to mention all the various stressors piling up in the background that I'm having to process and deal with.

"you need to try harder to not get stressed about things" says the person who won't even begin working on their own deeply unhealthy behaviours that negatively effect everyone around them because "that's a lot of work and I don't want to have to do all that"

[butterflydm]

I think the issue with Mat ending is that Mat doesn't stop being ta'veren at the end of the books. I don't think that's said in canon? But Perrin and Rand get to essentially live their own lives, responsabilities as a lord (P) or lover and father to a royal lineage (R) besides. But Mat, he's still expected to affect the pattern large scale with the Seanchan, and if Sanderson (I think it was him extrapolating?) floating the Tuon as Ta'veren post canon idea was taken into account.... Mat is just in the middle of the next grand issue/conflict after being in the middle of this whole book series too. So he doesn't get a happy ending-ish, he gets even more work. Which you've said already >< Could that been really circumvented in the books if he was going to end with Tuon anyways, though? Even if she weren't as she's in canon, and on board with dismantling the damane system and learning to channel by the ending, she's the Empress of a continent in caos and the work to change the culture and end slavery in Seandar the work of a lifetime riffle with danger and vital to the future. So I think Mat would end up still very much with a high pile of work (not that the other mains don't have also lots of responsability postcanon), but he and Tuon would still be needed to prevent the next big evil of imperialism I guess. It'd be a more optimist ending if Tuon and Mat were truly thinking along the same ways though. As of canon it seems truly thankless.

Hi! <3

If there was a sense that Mat and Tuon were genuine PARTNERS in the upcoming changes of the Empire, then I feel like the whole thing would have a vastly different vibe for me. As it is, Tuon feels a lot more like the warden of his jail cell, which is... not a vibe I like in a romance, lol.

But, yeah, also the idea that Perrin and Rand are going to get to blissfully live out lives of peace is kinda ridiculous in a world where the Seanchan remain an active threat. Is Rand seriously going to just keep wandering the roads while Elayne, Aviendha, and Min are all experiencing the major stressors of potentially being involved in a continent-wide war? (because the Seanchan Empire is already breaking the Dragon's Peace in the epilogue by kidnapping channelers off the battlefield, so there IS going to be a war) That does not pass the sniff test. I do not believe he's capable of ignoring when three people that we are told he is in love with are all in great danger.

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 5

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader 

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, stalking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, drinking, angst

summary -  “Please,” he said, staring you straight in the eyes. “Don’t go.” 

a/n - i really love this chapter! cant wait to hear what yall think :DD also for reference i aged jack down just a year so hes 3 when haley passes away, about to turn 5 when reader & aaron get together. i dont claim any dialogue straight from Emma as mine! (emma dialogue is in italics) 

masterlist / series masterlist / read it on ao3 

chapter 4 / chapter 6 

-----

You were hyper-aware of the new way the team was looking at you as you entered the conference room. You shot a very anxious glance up towards Aaron, grateful for the very brief- but soft- glance he gave you before the business side of him took over again. You could feel the ghost of his hand hovering over that protective spot on your back again as he led you up towards the table. 

It felt like your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, upon seeing the seemingly endless piles of photos in front of you. Your brain was struggling to process everything that was laid out in front of you and you felt your heart rate start to pick up; seeing it in person was worse than anything your mind had created in the drive here. 

“Y/N.” 

Your eyes shot up to meet the voice and you saw Spencer looking down at you with a look that was just on the edge of pity. “We tried to sort the pictures into piles of time relativity. Would you be able to go through them and help us create a firmer timeline?” 

You nodded at that, vaguely aware of Aaron pulling a chair out behind you. You gladly slid down into it. Seeing Emily start to pick up one pile and push them towards you made you nervously laugh, the stress of the moment and how uncomfortable you felt forcing it out. When the entire team gave you a weird look you said, “Sorry, it just reminded me of last time.” 

You gently picked up the stack of photos, trying to hold them as lightly as possible. The knowledge that the unsub had packaged these himself sent a shiver down your spine. You knew it was silly, but you somehow felt that by touching the photos you were somehow also touching the remnants of the unsub. 

The first stack you easily dated as around four years ago, just from your hair; you’d drastically changed it for a role. You thumbed through the photos and could feel the knots in your stomach growing even tighter. Most of the photos were blurry and relatively distant from you, as if the unsub was still getting comfortable with what he was doing. 

“This was four years ago, I had to change my hair for a role and I’ve never had it like that before or again.” You said quietly, pushing the pile back to Emily. 

She nodded, giving you a gracious smile before pushing the next pile towards you. Your face fell immediately; something the team equated to how much more personal these set of photos seemed to be. You fanned the stack out in front of you. There weren’t many, as if even the unsub could recognize the inappropriate- ha!- nature of capturing you like this. In all of them you looked worn down, as if a cloud was following you everywhere you went. 

“This was about two years ago.” You said flatly. It took a moment, but you could see everyone connect the dots in their head and suddenly the room felt very small. 

Thankfully, the next pile was rather average and you guessed that this was just an ‘extra’ pile of photos that didn’t really seem to fit into a cohesive timeframe. As you scanned over them, one caught your eye and you pulled it a bit closer to you. You pointed a finger at the sign behind you. 

“This is an exclusive club house, it’s difficult to get into. Security’s intense and everyone that enters has to sign in.” You informed the team. JJ reached out and grabbed the photo, putting it to the side for later.

You turned your attention back to the pile, making sure to give each photo a proper amount of attention, desperate to notice something useful. 

“This one,” you said, pulling a blurry photo of yourself out of the pile. You were moving too fast for the camera to properly capture you, but you recognized the outfit. “I was wearing this the day Officer Reynolds told me you all were coming, isn’t this the outside of the station?” You said quietly.

JJ moved that photo to the ‘save for later’ pile as well. You gently re-stacked the pile and passed it towards Emily, waiting for the next one. 

You watched as Emily seemed to be literally holding her tongue as she pushed the next pile towards you, a certain playful glint in her eyes. Once you were able to look at it, you couldn’t help but snort. You could feel Aaron tense up besides you, but you could find the humor in it. The ‘Aaron’ pile. 

You fanned the stack out like you had done with the others, giving special attention to the details behind you. These were much more difficult to place and a much smaller pile, considering how careful the two of you had been. 

“These must’ve been in DC?” You questioned, not really expecting an answer. You looked up towards Aaron, raising an eyebrow as if to give him the opportunity to share his thoughts. “Whenever he came to LA, I had an iron grip on our security but it was a whole different field in DC-” 

Your sentence fell flat as your eyes went wide, nearly surging out of your seat up towards Aaron. He gave you a worried look, unable to place the sudden anxiety that had taken over you. “What about Jack?” You asked worriedly, “if he knows about you he must’ve found out about Ja-”

Aaron stopped you, putting a very gentle hand on the top of your shoulder, “He’s okay, I promise.” He said, using his hand to lightly push you back into a seated position. You nodded at that, eyes still wide, but your body seemed to deflate, the tension slowly leaving you. 

The rest of the team was quiet, recognizing the personal nature of the interaction. But it was impossible for them not to notice the way your bodies reacted to each other. The way your body’s natural response to a stressor had been to move closer to him and the way he angled himself in a protective stance around you near simultaneously. 

Emily pushed the final pile in front of you and you couldn’t help the corners of your lips pull up in a soft smile. You fanned out the stack of photos, taking a good look at all of them. They all seemed to either be promo photos or film photos of your time filming Mamma Mia in Greece. 

“This is definitely from Greece. But some of these are definitely promo photos, it’s why I’m ‘posing’ in a few of them.” You said, pushing out one that visually made your point. 

“What about this one? It feels a lot more intimate than a promotional piece.” Emily asked, pulling one out from the stack. In it, you were standing on the dock, face close to the camera. You had a big smile on your face and your thumbs up. 

“On set, we had a handful of little disposable cameras that everyone could use.” 

“Do you have any memory of who owned the cameras?” 

“I…,” you paused, eyebrows scrunched tightly in thought, “I don’t know. The studio distributed all the photos after the movie came out. They’re pretty public at this point, it was five years ago.” You said weakly, feeling really disappointed in your lack of help. “I’m sorry.” You added. 

Morgan stepped up closer to the table. “Don’t be okay? Now we know that the unsub has connections in Hollywood and we know he must be wealthy enough to fly to DC on a whim if he thought you were there. That helps narrow things down.” He assured you. 

“Are there any specific photographers that you’ve noticed? Or any guy you feel like you’ve seen too many times and it’s no longer a coincidence?” Spencer asked. 

You shook your head quickly. “I’m really used to cameras flashing in my face.” You said impishly. “I can remember a lot of fans that I meet, but if it’s just someone behind a camera I don’t think I’d really notice it at all.” 

You felt Aaron move away from you and towards the computer at the end of the table. He clicked a few buttons and suddenly a woman's face popped up on the screen. You recognized her immediately from all the stories and photos you’d seen. Penelope. 

Aaron brought the computer closer to where you were and her mouth dropped open for the second time today. 

“Oh my god! Hi! Wow! I am, I am such a fan. I just-, you’re always so-” 

“Garcia.” Aaron interjected but you raised your hand at him, giving him a ‘shoo’ gesture. The rest of the team had to stifle their laughter. 

“Hi, Penelope right? I’ve heard so much about you.” You said sweetly, leaning a bit closer to the camera. 

“Wow! Okay, I can’t believe this is-” 

“Garcia, I need you to pull up visitor logs from a clubhouse that Y/N used to visit. I want you to cross reference it with other visitor logs of recent film sets she’s been on and her housing development. She’ll be able to give you a more comprehensive list.” Aaron interjected, and this time you let him. 

You turned back to the screen, giving Garcia another smile. “The clubhouse is called Royal Blue, the picture couldn’t have been more than…, I think three years ago? But I’m not sure.” 

“Alright…, okay the visitor logs seem to be locked tight, but never too tight for me. What are some of those movie sets?” 

“The earliest photo is what? Five years ago?” You asked, looking around at the agents for approval. “Yeah, five years. So Mamma Mia, to start, Little Women. I’m working on Emma right now.” You droned, listing various movie sets you’d worked on in the past five years. 

“Oh my god! I have so many questions about Mamma Mia. Like what was it-,” Garcia’s question trailed off as she caught sight of Hotch giving her a firm stare from behind you. “Right sorry, alright. I will break into the clubhouse and cross reference all of these lists to see if anyone comes up more than once. It was so nice meeting you, I hope we get to-. Alright, hanging up now!” Garcia said in a rushed voice. You watched her click a button on her end and the screen went black. 

You leaned back into your chair, staring up at the rest of the team . “So…,” you said, drawing out the word, “what now?” 

-----

“What are you doing?” Aaron’s asked, voice coming out from behind you. 

You comically froze, hand just short of picking your keys up from the table. You slowly turned to face him, straightening your tote bag over your shoulder. “Oh! There you are, I was just on my way to come find you.” You said lightly, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the room. Aaron didn’t say anything, waiting for you to go on. “Johnny and I have plans tonight.” You said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world  

On your part, you’d already forgotten about the whole ‘I’m on a date’ aspect on your earlier phone call with Aaron. In your mind, there wasn’t anything inherently suspicious about you going to spend time with him in the evening.

Aaron was viewing the entire situation in a very different light. When he had first come around the corner, he noticed how nice you looked. When the two of you had finally returned to your place you immediately went up to your room, disappearing for quite some time. He had originally thought maybe you were upset, the cognitive interview hadn’t revealed anything and even though he knew you didn’t really believe in their accuracy, he also knew how badly you wanted to be of ‘use’ for the case. 

In your time upstairs, you had changed your outfit and styled your hair just enough to give it that ‘unstyled-styled’ look. It’s not like you were glammed out or anything, the only reason you’d put on a nice outfit was on the off chance you were photographed- hopefully not by the unsub-, on your way into Johnny’s apartment. 

“And what is it that you’re supposed to be doing?” Aaron asked, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. 

“Um, nothing much,” You said with an awkward laugh, when he was still looking at you expectantly you tilted your head. “I’m supposed to go to his place and we’re gonna run lines for the scenes we’re filming this week.” You explained. 

“I can’t endorse you going out at night. Especially to someone’s home that we don’t have eyes on.” Aaron said firmly. 

You rolled your eyes at that, picking up your keys. “Johnny’s fine, he’s been in the same place as me when nearly all the bodies were discovered.” You argued, putting one hand on your hip. 

“With the recent development in the cases, I can’t let you do this.”

You started to walk towards him, intending to go around him. “Aaron-” 

His hand shot out and gently grabbed you by the arm, stopping you from getting past him. 

“Hey!-” 

“Please,” he said, staring you straight in the eyes. “Don’t go.” 

Your mouth fell open slightly in a mild form of shock. ‘We’re just running lines, I really need-” 

“I’ll do it with you.” Aaron interjected hurriedly. “We’ve done it before, I’m not too bad at it, huh?” He said teasingly. 

You pondered that for a minute. You and Aaron had run lines together plenty of times in the past, it was always something you got a kick out of, seeing Aaron try and morph into whatever character he was reading for. And while it wouldn’t be as productive as running them with your actual co-star, you reasoned it’d still be good enough. And as much as you hated to admit it, Aaron probably had a point about you not going out, especially in the evening.  

“Fine. I just need to go call Johnny and tell him something came up.” You huffed, pretending to be more annoyed than you were. 

“Here,” you said, reaching into your bag and pulling out your script, “I already have most of my lines memorized, I’ll just need you to fill in if I miss any. I have a pink sticky note denoting the scene we were going to start with. You’re reading as Knightely. I’ll meet you in the living room, alright?” You said, pushing the script into his hands as you walked around him towards the kitchen, pulling your phone out at the same time. 

----

“No, I’m just saying I think it’d be more believable or whatever if we did a few more like nonchalant meals before like, running errands together or something, ya know?” You said lazily into the phone, holding it between your ear and shoulder as you used your hands to mix up a drink for yourself. Out of the corner of your eye you caught sight of the Dalmore. You reached out with one hand and carefully pulled it down, still remembering exactly how Aaron liked to take a drink. 

“What meal really screams ‘we’re dating’? Dinner? That’s like the longest meal of the day, that’s gotta show some sort of commitment.” Johnny asked. 

“Hm…,” you droned, “well we just had a lunch. If we want to kick it into high gear, we should do breakfast. Perfect ‘just spent the night’ remedy.” You said with a snort. 

Aaron cleared his throat behind you and the sound made you jump. You pulled the phone away from your ear and saw you’d been blabbering for nearly half an hour. 

‘Oh. Sorry.’ You mouthed to Aaron, before pulling the phone back to your ear. “Hey Johnny gotta go, but we’ll figure it out later! Yeah…, for sure, bye!” You hung up and placed your phone on the counter. Then you grabbed the drink you had poured for him, holding it out. 

“It’s Dalmore.” You said plainly. 

“I’m working.” He responded. 

You rolled your eyes at that and held it out more aggressively. “Take it.” 

You watched happily as he begrudgingly took it out of your hand, though you knew it wasn’t too difficult for him. You picked up your own glass and tucked your phone into the waistband of your pants. “Ready? Sorry, got carried away.” 

While the two of you walked back into your living room, it was obvious something was bothering Aaron. You briefly wondered if something had developed in the case that he wasn’t telling you. 

‘What is it?” You asked. 

He looked down at you, confused. “What is what?” 

“Don’t play dumb, you have a tell.”  You explained, stopping to look up at him.  

“I do not have a tell.” Hotch replied annoyedly. 

“Yes you do.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“If you want to be a baby about it, fine you don’t have a tell. Tell me what’s wrong anyway.” 

“I’m trying to understand why you lied about not having a boyfriend nor seeing anyone recently. We’ll need to fully vet Johnny and look into his files, even if you don’t see it becoming serious.” Aaron near spat.

You snorted. “What do you mean lied?” 

“You very clearly told me you weren’t seeing anyone, yet today has proven those claims to be false.” 

“I know that sometimes, I like to be a huge pain but I’m serious, what are you talking about? I’m not seeing anyone.” 

“Your co-star, Johnny? You told me you were on a date with him today. I just heard you on the phone make plans to stay with him overnight. I saw the pictures of-” 

“Stop! Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually believed that.” You said, unable to hold back the laughter that bubbled out of you. 

“Believed it? You’re the only who told me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed you read through the lines. Johnny and I have been going on publicity dates. We’re just friends.” 

“What were you supposed to be doing tonight then?” 

“We were legitimately going to run lines. Maybe get ice cream, we’re trying to determine the best ice cream in LA.” 

That’d explain the outfit, Aaron thought. 

“And the phone call I just heard?” 

“We were debating which meal screams ‘dating’. He thinks it’s dinner. I think it’s breakfast, ya know, cause it implies you spent the night.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me that, before.” 

“Don’t you remember when I had kinda the same thing with Timothee during Little Women? They made us hang out a bunch so the tabloids could just do their thing. I just assumed you’d fill in the blanks.” 

Aaron was staring at you as if you had two heads. It was almost like you could see the gears turning in that head of his. Internally, he was more than embarrassed for how upset he’d gotten over the idea of you with someone else. 

When it seemed that Aaron had nothing else to say, you started to walk again, not stopping until you were both back in your living room. You plopped down in ‘your spot’ on the couch, playfully patting the space a few cushions down that Aaron typically sat in. 

“Crack open that script, I hope you looked through it. If you’re making me stay home, you better be useful!” You said pleasantly, trying to change the atmosphere into something more playful. 

Aaron awkwardly sat himself down on the couch next to you, picking the script back up. As you watched him flip the script open and further acquaint himself with the lines you couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang in your chest. It was such an unavoidable reminder of the way the two of you used to run lines together when you were still dating. You had learned early on that Aaron best showed his affection through acts of service and he actually wasn’t that bad at delivering a line. Since the two of you were rarely together in person- it’s not like you’d let him waste a visit with you building a shelf or running an errand-, running lines with you was the easiest way for him to feel useful. 

-----

Four Years Ago

“Okay Jack, you ready?” You asked, smiling down at the young boy standing across from you. He was dressed up in his winter clothes, despite the blazing heat of the summer. You and Aaron had tried to talk him out of it, but he demanded it’d be the only way for him to fully get into character. And who were you two to deny him? The sweet boy nodded, barely being able to contain his excitement as he bounced up and down on his feet. 

“Alright, places everyone!” You yelled out, holding the diy paper clapperboard Jack had made for you. You held it out from your body and did a very exaggerated clapping motion. “Action!” You said, quickly throwing the clapperboard to the couch. 

“Carrots!” Jack said, his voice more than enthusiastic for the role. 

“Huh?” You said, heavily overselling your voice and reaction. Even with the one simple word, Jack was already in giggles, struggling to keep it together. 

He leaned in closer to you, standing up on his tiptoes. “Behind you!” 

“Oh! Right, excuse me.” You said, stepping to the side and gesturing to the ‘carrots’ behind you. 

You made your voice really low to play the next part. “Woh, a real howler in July, yea? Where ever could it be coming from?” You asked, placing your chin in between your thumb and pointer finger. 

Jack kept giggling at your ‘deep’ voice, he held his ‘script’ up to his face to read his next line. “The North Mountain.” 

You jokingly ran a hand in front of your face, signaling a character switch. “North Mountain.” You stage whispered. You ran your hand in front of your face again, going serious. “That’ll be forty.” You said, holding your hand out with a ‘gimme’ gesture. 

Jack smacked your hand gently to ‘give you’ the money. But after his face fell ever so slightly. “Can we skip to when Daddy gets to come in??” He asked, giving you those big eyes you couldn’t possibly say no to. 

You stood back, putting your weight on your back leg with one hand on your hip. “Hmm.., I think that could be arranged.” You reached over to grab the clapperboard. “Alright everyone! Back to places, but let’s start at ‘Hi everyone’, okay?” 

Jack nodded excitingly and turned back to where he knew Aaron was standing, partially hidden by the hallway. “Places daddy!” He urged, pointing to where he should come stand. 

Aaron came out from around the corner and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, trying to hold in the laughter. Aaron had a big white hat on his head and had let Jack put a small orange dot on his nose. You and Jack had definitely double teamed poor Aaron, dragging him into your little ‘movie game’ as Jack liked to call it. The three of you had started doing this a few months ago, Jack loved ‘running lines’ with you and you were more than happy to oblige him. It had started when a sleepy Jack had stumbled into the living room one night when he couldn’t sleep and he saw you and Aaron running lines for one of your other movies. Jack had taken to it so much you ended up ‘hiring’ him to help you with your more child friendly roles. 

“Alright, alright. Quiet on set!” You said, making a big deal of you bringing your index finger up to your lips in a ‘shush’ motion. “Action!” 

“Hi everyone. I’m Olaf. And I like warm hugs.” Aaron recited robotically , very clear that he was reading directly from the paper. You smacked your hand back over your mouth, unable to control the giggles. Once you started laughing, Jack fell into his own fit of laughter; both of you fueled off the others amusement. 

Of course, when you finally pulled yourself back together, a quick look at the way Aaron was standing with fake annoyance across his face and his arms crossed tightly against his chest sent you back into fits of laughter. 

“Are you two done?” Aaron asked, no true malice in his voice. 

It was rare that the three of you all got to spend time together. He’d been wary of introducing you to Jack. It wasn’t really a ‘you’ thing, but it was more of how Jack would be able to deal with it. There were the typical worries, what if you and Jack didn’t get along? Or what if you two did get along really well but then you and Aaron broke up and it hurt him even further? While you never intended to try and replace his ‘mom’, you still worried that your chaotic schedule would somehow hurt him, skewing his perception of yet another ‘parental’ figure. Not to mention the issues with him being able to keep your identity and presence in his life a secret; he wouldn’t even be able to tell people like Uncle Rossi that his dad was seeing someone. 

But now, you’d been with Aaron for over two years. And Jack had known about you for about a year now. And everything had been going perfect. Jack was a stellar secret keeper, the unfortunate events of his childhood maturing him faster than any child deserved and he was able to fully understand the importance of the situation. The two of you had taken to each other quite quickly and every night the three of you would have a ‘bedtime’ call; even on the nights when Aaron was busy with a case you’d still call Jack on your own. You loved spoiling him with whatever hot new toy was popular among kids his age or getting him special early copies of movies before they came out. Aaron used to get on you about it, saying it wasn’t necessary, but you argued it was the most necessary thing in the world. 

And now here the three of you were. Nestled away in Aaron’s apartment in DC. You had just flown in after wrapping up a shoot abroad and were just in time for the start of summer. Even though your career was at a seemingly new high, you had managed to secure a relatively empty summer. After long consideration and planning you and Aaron decided it’d be a nice treat for Jack to go spend a month or so with you in LA. You’d consulted heavily with many of your friends who kept their children completely hidden from the spotlight and had hired an airtight security team to assist you the entire time. Aaron was supposed to come out when he could, but you were all aware of how turbulent his poor schedule could be. Schedule permitting, you all would spend the next three days at Aaron’s apartment before you and Jack took off. 

“Daddy! You sound like a robot.” Jack said, scolding Aaron. His voice brought you out of your thoughts and you looked down at him with a big smile. 

“Daddy’s just no good at this huh?” You asked, shaking your head. “He’s no match for our talent, Jack!” 

“This is really hot.” Jack said, holding up his arms. He must’ve been sweating his butt off in all those winter layers. 

“You’re kidding me! I wonder who could’ve seen that coming.” You said sarcastically, reaching over to pull off his big hat and zip down the first of multiple jackets he put on. “I’ve heard that ice cream cools you down…,” 

“Ice cream!’ Jack exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. He didn’t even look to his father for ‘permission’, knowing by now you had the most sway in the house. 

“Go put on some normal clothes okay? Wouldn’t be fun if you passed out in your ice cream bowl, huh?” You told him, ruffling his hair before he dipped under your arm, making a mad dash for his room. 

“He hasn’t even had lunch yet, you know that right?” Aaron asked, giving you a fake stern look as he walked over to where you were standing. 

You rolled your eyes at that, reaching up to snatch the white hat off his head, letting your arms fall loosely around his neck. “Does it upset you that I’m always the cool one?” You asked teasingly, reaching up on your tiptoes to press the gentlest kiss on his lips. 

He gave you one of his small smiles, reaching down to press a second kiss to your lips. “How was your flight in?” He asked, one of his hands wrapping protectively around your waist as the other one found its way by your hair, gently stroking down it the way you liked. 

You let your head relax against his touch and pretended to think for a moment. Instead of answering you reached up again, pressing your lips against his, pressing yourself closer to him. You both thought you could stay this way forever; it being the first time you saw each other, in person, in nearly two months. 

“Gross!” Jack’s voice seemingly cut through the two of you. Aaron was the one to pull away first, quietly laughing so only you could hear. 

“Later.” He promised in a whisper. 

You loosened your grip on him, turning to face Jack. “Oh Jack! Funny seeing you here, ice cream, right?” 

----- 

Present Day.

“Page 103, right?” He asked, skipping to the bright pink sticky note you had used as a place marker. 

You jolted out of your memories, feeling the heat rise up your neck as you prayed it wasn’t too obvious you had just completely zoned out. 

“Yep!” You squeaked out, “page 103, line 19, you start.” You said, waving your hands. 

“And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my enemy, you will not ask me why, you are, you are determined, I see, to have no curiosity but I cannot be wise-” He started, keeping his eyes near glued to the page. 

You frowned, shaking your head a bit. “Stand up.” You ordered, already getting to your feet. 

“Excuse me?” Aaron asked. 

“Stand up,” you repeated, motioning upwards with your palms. “This,” you said, motioning between the two of you, “doesn’t feel right if we’re seated, we’re supposed to move around in this scene, it’s supposed to be painful.” You explained. 

He slowly stood up, looking at you for permission to start again. 

“From where you left off, please.” 

“I must tell you, Emma, what you will not ask! Though I may wish it unsaid the next moment-” 

“So do not speak it.” You cut in. “If you wish to speak to me, as a friend or to ask my opinion as a friend I will hear whatever you like.”

“As a friend, Emma. That I fear is a word, tell me Emma. Have I no chance of ever succeeding?” He asked, looking up at you for further approval, you nodded and he continued. “My dearest Emma, my dearest, you will always be my dearest most beloved Emma, tell me at once. I cannot make speeches, if I, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more-” 

“Let’s do a different part, yeah?” You interrupted, voice incredibly tight. You ducked from his gaze, reaching to bring your glass to your lips. 

“Isn’t this the scene you have to practice?” Aaron asked, raising his brow at you. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, taking a long sip, “any practice as the character will be helpful.” 

“If this is the one that’s troubling you, we should go over it.” He pressed. 

“Page 56, start at line 9.” You ordered, throwing back the rest of your glass. “Read it over, I’ll be back.” 

Before you could fully turn to go and refill your glass, Aaron lunged forward and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him. The sudden movement caused you to stumble, throwing your hands out to steady yourself against his chest. 

“You’ve been drinking a lot.” He stated, repositioning his grip on your arm. 

“Am I not allowed to have a drink or two in my own home?” You challenged. 

“What are you running away from?” Aaron asked, his voice so gentle it made your knees weak. 

“You.” You whispered, after a long pause. You looked up at him with sad eyes and only found confusion in his. “I can’t, I-, don’t you see how funny it is? Your character is desperate for mine to be with and my character is the one to deny yours.” 

Your confession pulled sharply on his heart. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, not sure there were any words to appropriately apologize for how he had treated you. 

“Why didn’t you ever call?” You asked, voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear you. 

“I, I-” He stuttered, unable to think of an answer fast enough. 

“I waited for weeks,” you said, looking up at him with a look that nearly brought him to his knees. “I waited so long and you never called.” 

He brushed the hair out of your face, letting his hand fall gently against your cheek. His thumb caught a stray tear that had started to fall, softly brushing it away. “I don’t know.” He responded, his voice as quiet as your. “I don’t know, you didn’t deserve that.” 

You pressed your face into his hand, closing your eyes as you felt more tears managing to sneak past you. He was finally admitting words you had dreamed of hearing for years, but yet you were unable to find any joy in them. 

“You didn’t deserve that.” He repeated, sliding his hand towards the back of your head, pulling you firmly against his chest, while his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist. You let your body relax into his, slowly bringing your own arms up loosely around his neck. 

You felt him gently press the faintest of kisses to the top of your head. “I’m so sorry angel.” He mumbled into your hair. 

You pulled your head out from under him, looking up at him with big eyes. The two of you were silent, basking in each other's presence. Your eyes flickered down to his lips multiple times; something he duly picked up on. Just as you began to push up on your toes, nearly pressing your lips to his, eyes half closed in anticipation, his phone rang out. 

You froze, falling back onto your heels with a small sigh. “Answer it, I’m getting a refill.” You said, pulling yourself out of his grasp. He gave you an uncertain look, as if he wanted to pull you back in and ignore the call completely. 

You wagged a finger in front of him, shaking your head. In on fluid movement, you grabbed your glass and nearly ran out of the room

-----

It took you ten minutes to calm yourself down and another five to hype yourself up to return to your living room. And that was after you had made yourself a new drink. 

When you entered the living room, Aaron’s back was to you; still locked on the phone. The tension was clear in his shoulders and your eyes drifted down to his free hand that you knew would be clenched in a fist. It was. 

“Thank you Garcia, tell the team we’ll be there soon.” He said, pulling the phone away from his ear and hanging up. 

“Aaron?” You asked. 

He rolled his shoulders back, trying to loosen some of the tension from his shoulders for your benefit. He slowly turned back towards you, his face pulled in frustration. 

“LAPD just reported another body.”

-------

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[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

What Fresh Hell?: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst, talk of child pornography, talk of sexual abuse with children

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

Billie’s father is seen parking in the driveway, and even from where you’re at, you can feel how angry he is. He turns this whole blue energy of the house into a light purple. Both red and blue mix to create a whole mess of emotions. He’s not right in the head either, but that’s clearly not going to stop him from marching in here. As soon as he does, him and Billie’s mother just go at it.

“I have been calling you all night!” she yells.

“I'm sorry, Marilyn. I turned my phone off.”

“How could you turn your phone off? What if Billie got sick or—we needed you!”

“I said I was sorry!” he groans.

She slaps his arm and gives an angry scoff. She turns away and leaves the room. Thankfully, William stays put to give her time to cool off.

“What's being done to find my daughter?”

“We're assessing that right now,” you answer.

“She's been missing since yesterday! What the hell have you people been doing since then?!”

“Where have you been, Mr. Copeland?” Gideon wonders.

“Me?”

“Where were you all day and all night?”

“I have a cabin in Brandywine Valley,” he says, but that doesn’t tell you where he’s been this entire time.

“The police tried you there.”

“Well, maybe I was out at the time.”

“Billie tried your cell phone yesterday afternoon. You didn’t answer then,” you comment.

“Well, I shut it off sometimes. I like the solitude.”

“You didn't fight your wife for custody of your daughter, but you like being in her life,” Gideon rattles off the facts.

He wants to make him nervous. It’s working.

“I want her to grow up in her home with her friends around. This is the only place she's ever lived.”

“So, you love her very much.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you waste any precious time we have left?” Gideon sighs and cuts to the chase for this is taking too long. “You weren't at your cabin. You weren't at work or with friends. Police didn't call us until a little while ago because they thought your daughter might have been with you—that you might have taken your daughter. Until you can give us a satisfactory accounting of your whereabouts from the time your daughter went missing until—would you help me understand why a devoted father who talks to his daughter every night suddenly turns his phone off and disappears for almost twenty-four hours?”

“I was… busy,” he hesitates.

“It was 1:30 in the afternoon. You called your wife at 11:30 that morning and found out Billie was missing.”

“So?”

“Well, Brandywine Valley is fifteen minutes away. Where were you, Mr. Copeland?”

William knows he’s been caught, so he chooses the right option to tell the truth. He sighs heavily and sits down with a long and tired look on his face.

“I—I was at Sloane Kettering hospital in New York City. Dr. Baylan Mahal is the head of Oncology. You can call him if you want.”

“I will. Did you have a relapse?”

“It's in my lymph nodes now. There's nothing more they can—” he cuts himself off. “Please find my daughter. Find my daughter.”

“Call Sloane Kettering,” Gideon instructs of you.

“Yes sir,” you say, already taking out your phone.

The bad news is that Sloane Kettering vouched for William, confirming he was with them the entire day with proof through cameras as well as the sign in sheet. If he didn’t take his own daughter, then that means it really is a stranger abduction—most likely. The good news is that Derek, Elle, and Hotch did have something when they returned from the park. You didn’t want to upset the parents even more, so you had a small meeting on their lawn as soon as they arrived.

“What do we know?” Gideon asks as he jogs up to the rest of the group.

“We talked to a kid who had contact with the unsub. He came back to the same street more than once,” Hotch informs.

“Well that tells us he's at ease in the neighborhood—comfortable talking to kids in plain view,” you fit the pieces together.

“He lured Billie with a story about a lost dog.”

“She recently lost one of her own.”

“That indicates previous knowledge of the victim,” Spencer says.

“But it doesn't necessarily mean that she knew him personally. This only means he's aware,” you counteract.

“Actually, it's not uncommon for predators like these to know the kids that live around his area. He’s from this neighborhood.”

“Then we go door to door and ask for voluntary searchers,” Detective Russet speaks up.

“The neighborhood is already crawling with uniforms. They're everywhere. Having more searchers is only going to make the man who did this go into hiding,” you point out.

“So far, you followed the child abduction response plan to the letter,” Gideon trails off.

“For the past few hours, yes,” the detective nods.

“So now we need to move past the guidelines and change tactics. If we don't, Billie isn't gonna make it past the next twenty-four hours. I want you to corral these clowns,” Gideon points to all of the news cameras. “We're gonna need 'em—all of 'em.”

Before you can deal with the press, it’s about time to give the profile. Usually, you’d have more time to put one together, but Billie is very high risk. If you don’t put one out now, she could die sooner rather than later. Every single cop that’s around this area is in one room, listening to your team give the profile. Each and every one of them are listening intently, taking down notes as you go along.

“Billie Copeland has been missing for twenty-two hours. It is vital that we locate her in the first twenty-four,” Gideon starts off.

“The unknown subject, or unsub, in this case is most likely a resident of one of the subdivisions around the park. We have cancelled the amber alert. We need to coordinate with all your officers to pull everyone off the street immediately,” Hotch explains.

“That’s fucking crazy,” a random officer scoffs.

“Just hear us out—”

“But it goes against court procedure. You guys wrote the damn thing.”

“Actually, Carp is just a guideline for immediate response to child abduction. Believe it or not, we're already late in the game, and we do know enough about this unsub to know that if he feels like we're closing in on him at all, he will kill Billie to avoid detection. If anything, we need to lessen the pressure on him,” Spencer spits out.

“This man fits in because nobody knows what he is. Can we really know our neighbors? He walks his dog and does yard work. Solitary activities appeal to him. However, if you watch closely, you'll see he pays a little too much attention to the neighborhood kids. Largely goes unnoticed because he isn't perceived as a threat. He’s a white male in his late twenties to thirties. He has a menial or temporary job and is socially marginalized and frustrated. He relates better to kids than he does to adults. It’s not his first offense to children, but it is his first abduction,” you explain.

“How do you know that?” Detective Russet asks.

“First-timers hunt closer to home. Experienced predators don't.”

“He's had a recent stressor—a job loss or other setback. Unable to maintain a normal relationship, he'll have extensive pornographic materials in his home and on his computer. And while they won't all involve children, some of them definitely will,” Hotch takes over.

“Since he used the missing dog ruse, and we believe him to be a regular fixture of the neighborhood, it's quite possible that he truly does own—or did at one point—own a dog named Candy. We recommend cross-checking veterinary records with residents in the neighborhood,” Spencer says.

“He will not inject himself into this investigation.”

“Don't these guys like to know what the cops know?” the detective says.

“No, not this type of unsub. He's hiding. He doesn't know what anyone saw. He doesn't know if there's any information about him out there. He's unlikely to walk in and ask us, ‘can I help you?’. But I can guarantee you he will be watching the news. So, how we handle them is very important,” Gideon stresses.

“Check your canvass records. One of you may have had contact with him in the early stages.”

“What about registered sex offenders?”

“We've got somebody working on that right now.”

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, everyone clear on that? Good luck. Thank you,” Gideon closes this meeting out.

Derek immediately leaves off to the side to call Penelope to have her work her magic touch on the already growing pile of suspects. You’re scheduled to go back to Mrs. Copeland’s house with Elle just to make sure she and her ex-husband are doing alright. Before you do that, however, you walk over to Spencer who is kind of all by his lonesome.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” you ask.

“Could be better. What about you?”

“Same. This is just going to be another nightmare to add to my list,” you sigh sadly.

“Do you dream of children often?”

“It’s a lot less than what you’d think it’d be. I swear this job never gets easier. When I agreed to take this job when Gideon offered it, I was ecstatic. I thought I’d really make a difference.”

“But you are—”

“No, I’m not,” you cut him off. “All I get are some victims that are saved, and a shit ton of nightmares to follow it. The payoff is actually worse if I think about it. Just as I’m about to collapse from extreme depression, I think of this team. I think of you and Penelope and JJ and Derek. I think of kids like Billie. I think of everything good that comes out of these cases. While there isn’t much, I try to hold onto the good as tightly as I can in hopes some of it will rub off on me, you know?”

“Try going through life with an eidetic memory.”

“Bless your heart, Dr. Spencer Reid. Seriously. You’re doing a great job if it means anything.”

“It does. Thank you,” he smiles shyly but brightly.

“Y/N, come on!” Elle calls for you.

“Duty calls. Save that smile for me when I get back, yeah?” you flirt.

You’re already gone before Spencer can come up with anything clever to say. All he’s getting are flushed cheeks and a fuzzy brain. You actually make him forget what he’s about to do… and that’s saying something.

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@averyhotchner​ @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel​ @fan-girl-97​ @paulaern​ @inkstainedwritergirl​ @estrela-rogers​ @abitchforjay​ @kwbaby24​ @redsalv20​ @joonie-centric​ @spencerreid-mgg​ @sixpencespencee​ @boygenius-reid​ @reidemandweep​ @prophecyflame​ @happynekochan1​

[tttinytrash]

So @shamedump, you made a mistake saying using your boys was ok. Forever ago on their blog (which if you haven’t checked them out yet you should) there was mention of Mage bitties, their Nightmare that’s more of a overly blunt but well-meaning boy than canon Nightmare, growing into biggies and a few of em running a place you could go to have them drain negativity off. They get fed, you’re less stressed, win-win! This has kinda been an idea I pop back to when I’m feeling particularly stressed and I decided that since they said using their ideas was ok with credit, I’d go for it and actually write something. So Mage, and all the subsequent ideas of how their powers work, what their body is like, (I even borrowed the mousepad analogy) and whatnot is all Dumpling. I simply extrapolated a story out of it. Any misrepresentations of the character I’ll pretend comes from the fact that they’re bitties/biggies and therefore personality can differ a little from the source material. At least, that’s what I’ll say to make myself feel better lol. 

Your cousin had dragged you to this place, and you had immediate reservations upon arrival. The place was run by biggies, which wasn’t the issue. You really just couldn’t help that they looked intimidating. 

Every biggie in the shop had black goop covering their whole form, and four extra appendages sprouting out of their back. They were somewhat taller than you, and definitely broader. Despite all this, you knew they couldn’t help their appearances and made no move to actually be scary, so you pushed the anxiety down (to join the plethora of other anxiety in the pile) as your cousin approached the desk. The biggie at the desk was pleasant enough as she checked you in for your appointment, then came back to sit in the waiting area with you.

“Just gotta wait for a chair to open, cous. This will be the best decision you’ve made all week, I swear!” She assured you as she took her seat beside yours.

You agreed absently, watching the other humans, monsters, and biggies wander through the store. The Mage biggies, as their type was called, each stood behind comfy looking chairs with their client seated before them facing a big mirror on the wall. It reminded you a lot of a hair salon, actually. One tendril from their back wrapped around each wrist, while their hands gave a shoulder massage. Actually, the one on the end of the row was braiding his client’s hair. That observation struck you as pretty cute, and managed to sap away some apprehension. 

“little less scary now?”

You all but leapt from your seat you jolted so hard.

Your cousin tried and failed to muffle a snicker at your expense as the biggie continued “whoops. sorry, wasn’t trying to sneak up on you.”

“N-no, It’s fine. Just kinda got caught people watching.” you assure, trying your best to laugh off the mortification.

“it’s fine, we get it. i’m jethro. i’ll be taking care of you today.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m y/n.”

“Ooh, such a good name!” your cousin interjected.

“heh, thanks. my adopter was into some cop show. guess my attitude back in the day reminded him of somebody. anyhow, my chair is right this way, y/n.”

Your cousin excused herself and left you to your appointment, which had been the deal. You were too nervous to wait alone at a new place, but knew you should be ok from here. Jethro guided you to one of the indeed very comfy chairs and took his position behind. His tendrils grabbed a stool from against the wall and set it behind the chair so he could sit as well. Despite being behind you, he was able to look at you easily by turning his one eyed gaze to the mirror set on the wall in front of you.

“this is your first time, right?” Jethro asked, so far keeping his hands to himself.

You confirmed that it was.

“right. so i assume there’s questions?”

“Yeah, my cousin said you guys drain negativity. How literal is that?”

“exceedingly. we can sense emotions, especially negative ones. we can also feed off of em. again, literally. we remove them through physical contact and they’re converted into magic in our bodies.”

“You guys eat our bad emotions?”

“yep.”

You realized something. “...You sense them too.”

“Yep.”

“Does that include nervousness?”

“yep.”

“So you knew I was literally scared when I walked in.”

“yep.”

“I am so sorry.” Ugh, now he probably felt how mortified you were. Now he thought you were a racist! You were far from one of those monster hating bigots! Shit, maybe you should just leave-

You flinched when two cold pressures settled on your wrists, and your mortification ebbed.

“you’re fine, told you we get it.” Jethro cut your shameful spiral short, and you realized he’d wrapped his tendrils around your arms.

The appendages were cool to the touch, and the grip was light enough you could easily break free if you had any desire to. Thing is, you didn’t. You felt the stress that had been building up simply start to vanish. It left you feeling hollow, but calm and gratitude quickly filled the void. You could definitely tell those feelings were literally being taken away from you.

“now, since i’ve absorbed those negative feelings i know roughly why you came in and i’m also here to talk you through all of it rather than just making it go away if you want. but usually people just go quiet on their first time, up to you. given your reaction here, i’m assuming you want to enjoy the clear head space awhile instead?”

You nodded, feeling ever so slightly loopy. Was that an affect of the draining?

Jethro made an amused acknowledging sound. He reached forward, using his hands to apply pressure to the tense muscles around your shoulders and neck. You melted into the pleasant touch, briefly feeling shame for so visibly reacting before that too was wicked away.

“heh, i sense a return customer.”

You smiled, oh hell yes you were.

-----

You became a regular immediately.

All the guys in the shop were great, but Jethro definitely ended up your preferred siphon, and he was who you made appointments with.

You were in a session with him now, and it was nice to have him act as a sounding board as to how to deal with you day to day stressors. You’d picked up a few calming techniques you used on a daily basis by now, and your sessions had reduced in frequency by this point. It was almost a friendly catch up session between you two whenever you made a booking, but you still absolutely appreciated his services. 

As you two casually chatted near the end of your appointment, another biggie walked out from the back room. You’d seen a few clients go back there, only to emerge hours later. That was the “Special Treatment” room, and you were curious what that entailed but had never mustered the courage to ask. This curiosity meant you were very keen on observing the biggie that had just exited and therefore delighted when he took a seat in the vacant client chair next to yours. 

Jethro greeted him as he settled, and you noticed the newcomer had his hand laid on his belly as if to steady it. 

“special treatment?” Jethro asked.

“yeah. they totally fell asleep, but i’m not gonna bother them just yet.” the other responded.

“heh, they must have needed it then. nightmares, i guess?”

“yeah. pretty bad. all the more reason to let em rest.”

The conversation drifted from there, and you eventually got looped in and belatedly introduced to the other biggie, who you learned was named Obsidian. Throughout the conversation, you didn’t miss that Obsidian had his hands folded over his middle, and kept swiping his thumb across the surface whenever the special treatment client had been referred to.

You left the store contented but all the more curious. Maybe you’d finally ask when you came back next time.

-----

God this sucked.

When it rains it pours, apparently. It started with your manager breathing down your neck at the same time a bunch of impending deadlines were looming for school. With a cherry on top of family drama, you felt like a frayed nerve.

Your next siphoning session was two weeks away, but damn did you need the support now. You’d tried your calming strategies, which while they kept a panic attack at bay weren’t enough. You’d tried handling this on your own but it just wasn’t cutting it after a few days of the stress piling up on itself in your head.

You walked into the shop, hoping beyond hope that they took walk in clients.

Obsidian was apparently slotted for receptionist duty today, and he seemed to take notice of you before you were able to even say anything. His head jerked up as if he’d heard a loud noise and once his gaze settled on you, recognition dawned quickly. “y/n? what happened?” The concern made it clear that your black cloud of anxiety was exceedingly obvious to the empath before you.

“Everything, it feels like. There wouldn’t happen to be any openings today, would there?”

“i think we can swing something. gimme a sec.” 

The biggie disappeared in a shortcut, chair rattling down from its tilted position loudly. 

You flinched at the sound at looked around the shop for reactions. There weren’t many people, two biggies had clients and were politely ignoring the commotion you felt you’d made. You recognized one of the clients distantly, but your attention was quickly diverted to two figures emerging from the staff lounge. Obsidian lead Jethro, much to your delight, towards you. Jethro’s expression softened visibly at the same time you felt the happy thrill of recognition.

The expression settled into concern again by the time he’d approached. “you’re more negative now than when we first met, kiddo.” He said instead of a greeting. Blunt, as usual.

“I believe it. Sorry to drop in without a booking-”

“you’re fine, stoppit. you apologize too much. you’re probably due for a special treatment if you’re game for it.”

You perked up despite the dark knot in your soul at the mention of the mysterious back room. Your curiosity was piqued again, and you were up to try anything to get your head back in order by this point. So decided, you nodded.

You were lead into the back room, and you eagerly took in your new environment. There were a couple huge, very plush looking beanbags in the center of the room. A water cooler was off to the side, and a little table next to it had a hot water dispenser and tea bags. There wasn’t a ton of other things here, besides a few odd indoor plants and a distinct lack of mirrors compared to the salon-esque layout outside.

You belatedly realize that Jethro was trying to get your attention, and rush to respond. “S-sorry, what?”

“was askin’ if you wanted a rundown. this is your first time back here, you outta know what you’re agreeing to for both our sakes.”

“Ok, what happens next then?”

“well, you’ll recall that we consume negative emotions, and that we run off magic just like other monsters?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“this is an extension of that. some monster types have the ability to take others into their bodies harmlessly. if i do that, i’ll be able to sap even more negativity and also tease apart what triggered the emotions. that way we can work through it more specifically than in previous sessions, plus the negativity drains quicker.”

You blinked at him. That was one of the longer spiels you’d heard from him ever, but you were lost as hell. “That sounds great, but what did you mean about the taking into...?”

“yeah, it’s pretty similar to what you’re probably thinking. i’d essentially have to eat you.” he shrugged casually, like that was obvious.

You flinched away, feeling your heart rate spike.

“we don’t have to, if you want to try a normal session.” he offered, hands in pockets and expression neutral.

You go quiet in thought and he lets you. Everything from your previous session clicked into place, and you realized that when you’d met Obsidian he’d had someone inside while you three talked. You also realized the dim recognition you’d felt in the front room was that the client in the chair today was the same that’d disappeared into the back room with Obsidian. 

The train of thought came to a halt as you realized worrying was stupid, this was Jethro for frick’s sake! You trusted him easily, so extending that trust to allow what he clearly thought was the best move for you took little effort.

“If you think it’ll help, I’m up for it.” You say, determined.

He had a soft, almost relieved smile as he nodded in reply. 

He didn’t waste any time, and wrapped you snugly in all four of his tendrils. You were surprised by how little effort it appeared to take to lift your whole form off the floor. He flopped into one of the beanbags unceremoniously. 

So that’s what those are for. you thought as you watched him settle comfortably in the soft cushion.

You couldn’t help but tense when you were brought over his upturned face, and tilted so you were almost nose to nose (...nose to nasal bone. Whatever.) with him leaving your body hanging parallel to the floor in his grip. 

You’re not afraid, but you’re certainly nervous. Until you’re just not. You’ve done this enough to know he’s siphoning the nerves away, but this time you apparently don’t have much in the way of other emotions and are left with a hollow feeling. That utter lack of emotions leaves you to do nothing beyond going limp to make the next steps easier and watch as his mouth approaches to engulf your head. You duck your head down and find it pillowed on a tongue, cool to the touch and jet black. The light is almost immediately cut off as you’re pushed deeper in by the four tendrils around your torso. 

A wet gulp squishes into your ears and you feel a pressure over the crown of your head as your skull presses into the throat. You briefly wonder how a skeleton has such human like fleshy bits but chalk it up to the ooze over his whole bony form. A tendril slid off your body as its assistance was no longer needed, leaving a cool sensation and a slight tingle akin to mint in its wake.

Another wet sound and you’re in deeper. The sounds quickly pick up and settle into a comfortable rhythm, drawing you in with apparent ease. You eventually slide into a roomier space and flip into a somewhat seated position. You hear a sigh above you, and finally curiosity, relief, and a few other emotions take up residence in your head again. 

“you good?” You hear him ask, voice close but also somewhat muffled. 

You respond in the affirmative.

“good. get comfy, do whatever you need to. once you’re settled i can stop focusing on the anxiety of this arrangement and instead deal with what brought you here.”

You scootched into a comfortable curled position and forced yourself to cycle a breath. You used your favored calming technique and found that your nervousness first came back before ebbing completely. He’d stopped siphoning it away, but you felt fine now. You decided that you could take this opportunity to feel out your new surroundings for a moment, since Jethro pretty much gave permission. You decided to start pretty literally, pushing outwards on a wall with light pressure. Your fingers sunk in, the texture was like pressing on a gel mousepad. Cool to the touch, but you weren’t about to start shivering in here. 

The whole area was dim, but the grooves in the wall dully glowed with turquoise light enough to see your surroundings and to see where your hand was in relation to the rest of you. You weren’t blind in the pitch dark, much to your relief. (Not that you had considered that issue before agreeing to be taken in.) 

You ran your hand along the wall to further investigate and found friction minimal while not feeling wet. You didn’t quite realize you were rubbing at the wall before you until you heard a light chuckle and felt an opposing pressure from outside. You understood immediately that that was his hand pressing in at you from outside and used both hands together to push at the appendage and interact. After a moment he changed to rubbing at you like you had him, asking “did you want to address what brought you in or keep on playing in there?”

“Ha, sorry. Yeah, we should start. What do I have to do?”

He let out a long suffering sigh. “y/n, you still apologize too much.” He sounded exasperated, but was also teasing you.

“S-” You were about to apologize, but caught yourself. Well shit, you didn’t know what else to say if not sorry.

Jethro laughed a little at you, before moving on to his next point. “all you have to do is relax. first i have to figure out what went on with you, then we can talk.”

You felt the difference starkly between a normal session and this one. You could feel the stress sap out of you, and what you had to imagine having your life flash before your eyes was like but instead directly related to your recent stressors. It felt like it lasted awhile while simultaneously feeling like no time had passed.

The following discussion was long, but sorely needed. By the end you felt relief, gratitude, and a renewed determination. At some point the chamber you were in had seemingly formed itself a small puddle of what was apparently liquid magic. Jethro had already explained that it was essentially the excess magical energy his body had converted your stress into, and you thought it was much less noxious in this form. It was warm to the touch and flowed like water the best you could tell in the dim light. It had a faint turquoise glow that still managed to not cast too much light just like the rest of his magic. It filled a few inches at the bottom, so while you had your legs crossed it lapped as the tops of your knees and around your hips. You scooped some of the liquid up and absently let it fall through your fingers onto your knee.

The only problem with this was that such warmth in addition to the emotional exhaustion you were already feeling combined to make you about to fall asleep. Maybe you should ask about getting out?

“you nodding off on me in there? your heart’s slowing down.” he asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“I think so. Guess I should get out.” You found that you were loathe to move, though. You stretched your legs out, pressing your feet into the opposing wall.

“i can let you out, sure.” he said easily. A pause, then he adds “unless you’d rather sleep.”

You blink. “In here? Don’t you want me out?”

You felt the wall behind you tug upwards, seeming like he shrugged. “i don’t have any other appointments today.”

“...If you don’t mind?”

“since when do i suggest anything i’m not willing to do?”

You chuckle “Fair enough. Well, thank you.” You pat the wall and reposition to a reclined, curled position.

He gives you a pat back, “don’t mention it.”

The last thought you had before sleep overtook you was that for how crap you felt before, you felt pretty good now.

[gerrydelano]

disability ask dump!

so, after my post about needing more disability representation, i received a lot of really great asks! headcanons, general input, some questions. answering them individually would kill me, so i’m putting them all here! i started this hours ago and was almost done when the page crashed, so take two :’-)

TW for ED discussion at one point!

@tiinykaiju: your disability meta!!! your brain is huge. may I add to the pile, I hc Martin as having adhd and arthritis (or similarly fucked-up joints) bc I love to project! and also holding a warm mug of tea is nice for days when your hands are especially grouchy

(another sent later): oop also don’t feel obligated to answer this (I know you got a bunch of disability asks so literally don’t stress abt this one) but I also wanted to add that I fucking love how you & ren write Tim’s bpd? I don’t know if I have that (was self dx’d for a while & my shrink agreed it was a maybe but nothing solid) but he is a Whole Entire Mood, which is hugely ironic bc my ex (also named Tim, hilariously) was a dick specifically about the concept of me having bpd

I HC HIM WITH ADHD TOO. autism, ADHD, c-PTSD, (also BPD hoohoo), and disordered eating due to that nifty lifetime of poverty, neglect, and abuse. the arthritis is a good touch! somebody hold he hand!

also HEH. thank you!!!! i’m really glad that people vibe with a portrayal of this disorder that quite frankly has been making my life a living hell for Quite Some Time, like. i want to dismantle and write around the stigma and just write a character who reads this way without demonizing him for g-d’s sake. if you ever want to chat BPD things, my DMs are always open for you! and that NotTim motherfucker WILL die by my blade personality disorder bet your ass!!!!

@feral-piano-rat: Tma disability headcanons are my comfort food at this point! Somewhere around S4 of my listen (during the pre S5 break in real time) was when my chronic pain and joint issues got worse and I started to use a cane as a stabilizer... LITERALLY at the same time I started to see cane-user Jon headcanons and various fibro headcanons. It ended up being something I really took to heart and helped me vibe shame-free. I'm glad to see other people take something similar emotionally from it!

ME TOO it makes me so happy to see them!!!! oh gosh wow the timing, that’s lovely! i’m so glad that something was able to help you feel more comfortable and skip some of the shame stage. there’s no shame in a cane! my mom sort of took mine because she started needing it more often than me but my legs are very 8) unhappy with that so i might need a new one LOL. ahhhh though like! exactly! this is WHY we need to see more of this!

anon: Projecting on tma characters be like; Sasha doesn’t have the correct prescription on her glasses and constantly has a low grade eye strain headache. Georgie has asthma and has to spend so long editing the sound of her breath / wheezing out of WTG. Jon had burning shoulder pain as a kid and the physio he went to told him he was faking so it took him years to actually go to the doctor for his joint pain. Tim has a lazy eye that’s super noticeable when he’s tired.

FUCK yeah, anon. CHASE your BLISS. i don’t have too much to add to some of these but BIG high five on the jon one in particular, i write his Health Backstory as being that he had a rough time getting his EDS diagnosis because doctors are Useless and no one EVER wants to fucking diagnose that, and it’s even harder for an Autistic Kid Of Colour to be taken seriously which 8)))) BOY! get him to a doctor who will help him! give him some useful PT!

anon: Duude your recent post made me realize me going "jon probably isn't schizo spec that's just me projecting" was rlly bullshit like. The man had delusions most of season 2 my delusional ass just didn't connect that there could be a. Reason for those outside canon stressors

oh my g-d no WAY he’s got canon paranoid delusions, you’re TOTALLY fine to be HCing that! he’s so loudly sz-spec!!!! the canon stressors obviously exacerbated it like hell but the speed at which he got swept up in it definitely implies predisposition. i think we’ve been leaning schizoaffective for him? that mania, man. the cross there with bipolar symptoms resonates big jdshfkghds.

anon: So much of what you said was just like Oh Shit Yeah!!! really made me think about a Lot of things. the timing is a little funny because recently i've been thinking a lot about mike crew and abt how if he got struck by lightning bad enough to Burn His Skin he'd probably have nerve damage of some form, esp. with the quote "the doctors told me there would be no long-term damage from the accident. they were wrong of course, but the damage wasn't something they could see, so how could they know?"

DING DING DING there it is! that’s the ticket! you would not BELIEVE how much i’ve been talking about this angle on mike for the past week or so with seraf, he’d have a HELL OF A LOT MORE GOING ON THAN JUST NERVE DAMAGE. especially being directly struck, at that age, and like???? it’d damage his hearing, his skin, his muscles, he’d have neurological symptoms, i’m honestly forgetting a lot of what we’ve discussed but like.

mike crew is disabled, my dudes. there’s such a slim chance that it would Actually be No Damage like yeah some people get by with minimal shit but most people aren’t directly struck like that and so young and extra vulnerable, like. lightning does devastating damage. just write disabled mike! 

@pollylittlehigher-littlelower: Please consider autistic Melanie because the way she tends to feel everything so intensely is A Mood

I AM CONSIDERING! I AM HEAVILY CONSIDERING IT!!!! i don’t have any thoughts on it specifically right now because i am brain soup and been going through some Shit to get this post done but know that i am cheering loudly!

anon: sometimes a bitch projects very hard onto martin with eating disorders and how wrationing out food because of a lack of it lead to weight loss which lead to more confidence and more starvation. until he either got an intervention or (more likely) hospitalized and the pendulum swung back so hard he had significant weight gain, leading to insecurity despite being/looking healthier than he has in a very long time? m a y h a p s

look. sometimes a bitch is just vibing with a guy who is very easy to project disregulation of eating on. and it happens.

i actually have a fucking Lot of thoughts about martin re: food in connection to his poverty and his abuse. i was originally going to put this ask into that 3 parter that brought up those things first, but i think it’s slightly better separated because even as someone with all those issues myself, i don’t feel super confident portraying it through this angle as much as i absolutely support you exploring it because you know what it’s like.

let martin gain weight and be healthier and have support and resources and love himself! i love the idea of martin being confidently fat and everything but there’s no way that he didn’t struggle with it growing up at the very least, because kids are cruel and society is cruel and fatphobia is so deeply ingrained into our culture that it’s Going to impact your formative years even if you unlearn a lot of it later. 

i’m just. g-d, he’d probably feel guilty gaining weight while he’s struggling to make ends meet money wise because society just tells you “oh, you must eat So Much if you’re this big” and he’s like Am I Eating Too Much? Am I Wasting Money? Am I Being Selfish And Gross? and it’s like. no that’s just how your body retains things and it’s okay please martin i’m begging you i promise it’s okay to be fat and also to eat because you need to eat to live please

anwyay i havve . feelings. and am going to stop now so i don’t get swallowed up in them because i could go ON jgvhbknm HOO

anon: It's really neat to see another system into magnus archives!

putting this one with these, too, just to keep it contained. multiple high five!!!! i know at least six other systems in this fandom, it’s really great to not be alone (not that we’re ever alone ;D haha zing ;D) 

EDIT: another came in!

@bisexual-evanhansen​: you just did a tma disability hc ask dump but. sasha dyslexic and you CANNOT change my mind because I have had her calliope discussion almost verbatim on four different occasions. martin also dyslexic and I have no backup I'm just right. 

adding this because it’s a good HC that people should see!!!! i fully support you!!!!!!!! she’s also wrong about how to pronounce it and i die!!!!!!!!

both of them handshake on this it’s so good. also someone needs dyscalculia who the hell here is the worst at math

and there we have it. that took me. so long. i’m so sorry. but, yes, the only one i have left from that night now is a 3 part martin one about his poverty experience and i’m gonna make a meta from it some other time, i Really need to recover spoons now HAHA. thank you everybody, and i hope the anons who sent these get to see this!

[sushiandstarlight]

Kintsugi

Read this story on AO3

Inspired by the Japanese art of Kintsugi: " repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, a method similar to the maki-e technique.As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise.” and the fact that Aziraphale seems to limp when he's temporarily discorporated and sent back to heaven.

Crowley had written it off as a figment of his imagination the few times he thought he had noticed it: the slight limp in Aziraphale’s walk.  Angels didn’t really get hurt and, if they did, they could heal themselves.  If it was bad enough, they could go to one another for healing.  No, there was no reason for Aziraphale to have a limp.  And, every time Crowley thought he saw it in the next blink it would be gone.

In the days leading up to (what was to be) the failed end of the world, he thought he saw the limp with increasing frequency.  Maybe it was stress on his own part: the ever-present worry that they wouldn’t be able to save the world, that they would be parted, that one of them (maybe both of them) would be destroyed... Really, there were a lot of stressors.  Maybe he wanted to see something he could actually put his hands on as a problem.  Or... maybe the strain was living in Aziraphale and he was having more difficulty hiding his physical ailment.  Crowley couldn’t decide because, again, as soon as he would be sure there was something amiss he would take a breath to address it and then the evidence would be gone.  They would be off chasing the doomed apocalypse or arguing over the merits of running away from it.

As they walked back to his flat after dining at the Ritz he noticed the limp again.  Aziraphale was a couple steps ahead of him, talking about his favorite part of the meal and there it was: a slight lopsidedness to his gait.  Crowley could kick himself.  He was inside that corporation just hours ago.  He could have checked for himself.  But, he had been too busy trying to save Aziraphale’s whole self.  It hadn’t occurred to him to give the angel a physical once-over.  And, really, wouldn’t that be an invasion of privacy?

He caught up quickly enough, taking in the angel’s face and finding no distress there.  He couldn’t just ask, could he?  “Hey I’ve known you 6,000 years and I’m just now noticing that you limp on one leg... what’s that about, eh?”  There was no decent way to ask.  It might be something that Aziraphale didn’t want to discuss.

Only now they were at his door and he hadn’t heard much of anything Aziraphale had said the whole way here.  He hardly remembered putting one foot in front of the other.  He had just followed Aziraphale like a puppy, worrying and fretting and trying desperately to figure out how to bring this up.  He wanted to know that Aziraphale was okay, that was all.

Yet, somehow, his mouth was running.  Which, wasn’t really a good thing, since he wasn’t in complete control of it.  It was meandering on about something.  Ducks, it seemed, and methods to make them less buoyant.  How had they gone from talking about dinner to discussing the buoyancy of water fowl?

Aziraphale was giving him the most peculiar look: head tilted and a soft smile on his face.  It was only interrupted by the occasional glance at the door beside them.  The door that was still closed.  Because Crowley couldn’t stop talking about ducks while he thought about asking him why he limped.

And then Aziraphale’s warm, soft hand was on his cheek and his lips- somehow even warmer and more soft were on his own.  Whatever Crowley had been about to add to the duck discussion (for the curious: he was about to propose the idea of finding something equally as buoyant as a duck and strapping the duck to the thing to see if the duck would spin perpetually in the pond) died on a gasp.

“Could we go inside?”  Aziraphale’s face was still close to his, the soft smile from before tugging harder at the side of his mouth.  Crowley nodded dumbly and snapped the lock open.  “There we are.”  Aziraphale had hooked his elbow in Crowley’s and was leading him inside.

Brain still stalled out completely from the kiss, Crowley stood in his own entryway while watching Aziraphale venture further into his flat.  The sounds of a kettle being put on (did he even own a kettle?) and mugs being set out on the counter drifted his way from the kitchen.

Aziraphale had kissed him.

Aziraphale had kissed him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Aziraphale had kissed him while he’d been having a serious thought.  But, that thought was gone now.  All that existed in Crowley’s head was the feel of Aziraphale’s lips on his own.  The gentle breath that tripped over his chin as the angel had pulled away and smiled at him.

And Crowley hadn’t had a chance to respond to that kiss.  He wandered into his own kitchen in a daze.

“I hope you don’t mind... I miracled over my own kettle and mugs.  You really have nothing in here, Crowley,” Aziraphale tutted, “I figure... well, I figure I won’t be getting any more memos about frivolous miracles from upstairs.  Not for a while, anyway.”

Crowley found himself standing directly behind Aziraphale now, close enough that he could feel the heat of him.  When the angel turned he startled.

“Crowley!” a hand went to his chest, “I’m glad I wasn’t holding the mugs... what a mess!  Really, though, if you’re going to have a kitchen you should at least make an attempt to stock it- mph!”

He hadn’t really given it a lot of thought.  Really, no fretting at all had occurred.  Aziraphale had kissed him in the hallway which meant that it was okay for Crowley to kiss him in the kitchen.  a + b = b + a

Aziraphale’s hands wasted no time finding the waistband of Crowley’s too-tight jeans and untucking his shirt.  Those hands that had been on his face mere minutes ago traced over his belly and then his sides on their way to his back where they clawed him closer with always-well-manicured, blunt nails.  Crowley pressed him harder into the counter top, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and scraping his teeth over it.  The angel made a sound deep in his chest, one of his hands dipping beneath Crowley’s waistband to grab a handful of Crowley’s ass.

Crowley broke the kiss off abruptly, leaning his forehead against Aziraphale’s and sucking in some deep breaths even as he rutted against him.

Suddenly, the kettle went off on the stove beside them, causing them to spring apart and spin wildly, looking for whatever danger had found them.  They both looked from the still-whistling kettle to one another at the same time and laughed as the tension in the air eased.  Aziraphale took the kettle off the heat and turned off the stove.

“Maybe we can have tea later.”

“Something you’d rather be doing right now, Angel?”  Crowley would argue that his voice never “purred,” but he was perfectly aware that it just had.  He took a step toward his bedroom and then looked back at Aziraphale in invitation.

“Tempting me, serpent?”  Aziraphale reached out a hand and Crowley took it.

“As I recall, you kissed me first.”  Crowley pulled him down the hall and into the bedroom, tugging him closer once they got there.

“Well, you would not stop talking and I’m afraid I p... I pani... cked.” 

Crowley had leaned into his space, trailing his nose along the angel’s jaw in an almost nuzzle as he breathed him in.

“Perfectly good way to shut me up, Aziraphale, bravo.”  And then Aziraphale was left with cold air in the space in front of him as Crowley knelt at his feet.  “May I?” Crowley paused, hands over Aziraphale’s trouser fastenings.

Aziraphale nodded and was about to say more, but now his trousers were in a pile on the floor at his feet.  Crowley suddenly remember what he had been pondering before they got to the door of his flat.

He found himself face to kneecaps with Aziraphale and got a partial answer: the knee to his right looked like any ordinary human knee.  The one to the left, however gleamed a bright gold.  The gold spread in patterns almost like spiderwebs- or sealed cracks- up into his thigh, disappearing under his pants, and down into his shin, leading to his sock. Crowley reached out a hand to touch, but thought better of it and glanced upwards for permission.  Aziraphale didn’t so much look embarrassed or upset as he looked caught out and vaguely concerned.

“You can touch.  You won’t hurt me, darling.”

Crowley looked back at the patterns before him, tracing the cool metal replacement kneecap downwards to where it mixed with warm flesh then back up again, following the same lines up Aziraphale’s thigh until his fingers stopped just under his pants.  He felt Aziraphale shiver.

“I wanted to ask.”

“You knew?”

“Angel, there’s little about you that’s escaped me in 6,000 years,”  Crowley leaned forward and kissed his golden knee, “I just wasn’t sure you’d want me to know.”

“I want you to know everything about me... but this, well...”

“Wouldn’t they heal it for you?”  Crowley was proud of himself that his voice remained level.  The idea that heaven would let Aziraphale suffer, even after what he’d seen of them when he wore Aziraphale’s body as a disguise... It made his blood boil.  He could feel the yellow expanding in his eyes as he vied for some kind of control.

Aziraphale sat heavily on the bed behind him and Crowley immediately filled the space between his knees again, stroking his fingers along the newfound lines.

“I was afraid to ask them to.  Afraid they would think less of me or cast me out for my weakness.  It was all about casting out then, you know.”

“Yeah, I know... So you healed it yourself.”

“As best I could.”

“But it still hurts.”

“Aches sometimes.  If I’ve been on my feet too long or if I’ve been back to Heaven.  It’s so very cold there.  It seeps in and lingers.”  Seemingly without thought, Aziraphale flexed his leg under Crowley’s hands.  “Not to mention they don’t seem to believe in chairs.  What marvelous inventions, chairs.”

“You hid it from me.  Why?”

“My dear serpent,” Aziraphale reached down and caressed the side of Crowley’s face, tilting it upwards so he could meet his eyes, “I didn’t want you to worry.  You worry enough.  There was nothing you could do.”

Crowley gazed up at him, rubbing his hand up and down Aziraphale’s shin and knee.

“I suppose not.”

“And I don’t want you worrying yourself about it now, either.”

“Okay.”

“No, I mean it.  I’m not made of glass.  You’re not going to hurt me.”

“I hear you.”  Crowley walked his fingers around the back of his knee and found flesh there, making Aziraphale jerk and laugh. “Hmm, been hiding a ticklish spot, too, I see?”  Crowley tickled the spot again and Aziraphale tried to pull away, but the demon had his ankle in a strong grip.  He sprawled backwards, pulling at the bedspread trying to get away from the merciless fingers.

“Foul fiend!”

Crowley took the moment of distraction to divest him of his socks and shoes and finally completely remove his trousers.  Then he released the angel’s ankle and climbed up the bed to face him.  Aziraphale was doing the best he could between deep breaths to look put out, but the crinkles around his eyes gave away the smile he was hiding.

“I suppose I only have one more question, then,” Crowley drawled as he traced the edge of Aziraphale’s pants with his fingers, watching in satisfaction as shivers raced up the angel’s body.

“Only one?  You?  Surely not.”

Crowley traced him through his pants, just a barely-there touch.

“You got anything else that’s gilded?”

“I’ll gild you in a second if you don’t touch me properly!”

[d3ard3ughter]

Dumping (New & Old) Sunny headcanons

Dumping sunny hcs nowww

- Sunny’s p mentally delayed in development and all due to spending four years after Mari’s death when he was 12 just sleeping and doing the bare minimum to care for himself alongside the neglect from his mother so alongside physical growth he is mentally stunted

- Kel is usually the one being told he stinks/hj but you know its bad when kel is shoving Sunny to shower or something because of how long he’s neglected himself

Like people dont wanna talk about how long you neglect yourself with depression and stuff and how bad it is i think he rarely bathed during those four years

And the trauma heightened everything too so that near drowning experience before made him just not wanna be in water too and just some sensory related issues with water

- he has v sensitive hearing and like tons of sensory issues

He gets overstimulated easily and its a whole mess because he can’t express himself well

- he’s autistic and selectively mute adhd too

- he uses sign language alongside just physical contact and stuff and or communication cards and just writing stuff

- Sunny goes non-verbal even if its not stressful but its just a big thing and all or a stressor he reverts

- still p childish due to the lack of aging mentally and just trying to keep it thr way it was before per se

And hes also on the late developmental spectrum of autism

- he said his first words p late at 3-4 and it was “mari” but sunny had a bit of speech impediment so speech therapy and it was “mawi” for ages

- he’s Japanese & Korean alongside English he speaks both but like he had difficulties in learning some

Korean was mainly at home and English outside but he had difficulties in learning

- yk the raw steak and all thing? That is no longer his favorite food it makes him sick

- Sunny used to wear Mari’s clothes a lot whether it or not they were old

He likes skirts in general a lot

The cotton-y flowy ones because they aren’t restricting

- Sunny’s voice is developed really well due to lack of speech so it hurts to speak at times and its just raspy and all his baby face does not go with thr deep quiet voice he has (but it’s still a very very quiet hushed voice)

- Sunny’s bi and he had a crush on Aubrey as implied in canon and also Basil

- he has a collection of stuffed animals and blankets that he’s piled on his bed the only thing is it’s not messy like you’d expect it’s meticulously organized was his side of the room and mari’s was a “mess” but she knew where everything was

- Sunny tends to mimic people a lot especially those he is close with like Mari for example

- After the good ending, Sunny grows his hair out to be like Mari’s. Unlike before when he hadn’t realized how long it’d grown in the past and had to cut it from sheer panic

- artistic v much so he likes to draw and write shit but most of it will never see the light of day despite the horrifyingly good detailed nightmare fuel je wants hero to hang up on the fridge

- Mari and Hero’s nickname for him is “sunshine”

- Mari named sunny because he straight up was a nameless baby for ages and she called him sunny and ir stuck

- Sunny sounds v sarcastic and dry and all in everything even when he isn’t and it’s almost Mirroring Mari’s issues in sounding rude and not genuine so they both have to overcompensate

- Sunny has RSD.

- severe separation anxiety

- i think he is still kinda religious he believes in god but that’s about it

Especially because it kinda got shoved down his and mari’s throats as kids he stuck to it but mari drifted away really

- Sunny is just really dense romantically to for any of the ships the others just have to yank him and say it straight up for him to realize hey, somethings there

- He doesn’t register any flirting or sarcasm

- v sensitive but he just wasn’t raised to think its safe to cry or put it out there but he was v emotional when he was little and it was overwhelming with no outlet

- high sympathy autistic actually and its a probably meanwhile maris low empathy autistic

- Sunny becomes a tattoo artist as an adult in the good ending

- sunny doesn’t register flirting or is good at it but he can be kinda bold about things without thinking about it and he catches everyone off guard

- Sunny is v clumsy

- he’s anemic so that and being a klutz results in so much Hero questions about him and hes like?? I dont know where that bruise is from

- he was a preemie (born prematurely) so more stunted growth too

- v sick kid all of the time

- woo pulmonary fibrosis

- iron deficiency squad member/hj

- sunny is v sarcastic as a person and he doesn’t even realize iy eithrr but at the same time hes somewhat aware he will get punched if you allow him to say what he wants most the time

He says something so out of pocket and promptly stops verbalizing anything

OKAY THIS ONE IS REALLY STUPID BUT

- Sunny’s knife is his emotional support, he snatched it from Hero & Kel’s kitchen so when Kel takes it from him he realizes that was the missing knife and is like ?? “Why do you have our knife???”

- Mari & Hero would always Kiss injuries better for the younger kid and Sunny is convinced it still worked so Basil does it for Sunny’s eye and when sunny stabbed aubrey he tried to do that ti apologize and aubrey was slike “WHAT THE FUCK??”

- Sunny has a scar where his eye was stabbed

He goes between just with his eye/socket or just a eyepatch too

- has to wear sunscreen just to go outside or else he will just be burned. (It’s good to protect yourself anyways) but Sunny is just so pale and sensitive skin and Mari always ingrained it into him to lather sunscreen to go outside

- Sunny sucked on his thumb for a long time as a kid as a form of self-soothing that his and Mari’s parents - particularly their dad always found annoying and would make him stop.

- Rocking and just hugging himself and rubbing his arms is also more self-soothing Sunny tends to do.

- Sunny has a sensory processing disorder.

- Sunny purrs when sleeping or comfortable.

- Has a maladaptive daydreaming disorder.

- Sunny stares and makes eye contact way too much he doesn’t realize it, especially in bow it’s considered weird.

- Sunny doesn’t blush in romantic situations but mostly when embarrassed in particular. Or when he’s happy.

[toomanyfandoms02]

Tap Tap Tap // Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary ~ Three little taps becomes something much more when his best friend is in the clutches of an unsub.

Spencer Reid × Reader

Word Count ~ 2.4K

SPENCER

Y/n had discussed with me many times that she knew what she was getting into with this kind of job. She had been used as a human shield by unsubs, along as a sedutive measure for many male unsubs (and one female). But she had yet to go through something unmatchable to the rest, more traumatic.

But I guess it had to happen sometime, huh?

Y/n was an amazing profiler and agent. She always wanted the best for people. This also meant she was often getting in trouble for trying to take things into her own hands.

We had a few suspects for this particular case, but it was clear y/n wasn't convinced that any of them were the right ones. She was very smart and stubborn, and she definitely wasn't going to stand for convicting an innocent. Since this was all going on in Vorginia, she had told me that she felt responsible to keep everyone here safe, she didn't want any more people in our home state being murdered or injured because "She couldn't figure out a seemingly simple case."

Wednesday morning was pretty normal. I had come in early and was sitting at the round table, reading 'War and Peace.' For the twelfth time. The rest of the team began piling in. I looked up from my book, peering around the table. I wasn't being teased for reading War and Peace, where was y/n?

"Has anyone spoken to y/n this morning?" Hotch asked, leaning further onto the table. Everyone shook their heads. My heart dropped into my stomach, where is she? I immediately scrambled to my feet, exiting the room and calling her.

It went straight to voicemail.

I ran my hand through my hair, trying to pull myself together, calmly walking back to the room.

"I'm going to her house to check on her. Is anyone coming with me?" JJ grabbed my jacket, throwing it to me. Hotch nodded at me as we began to leave.

I was always a careful driver, speeding actually killed around 10,000 people last year. But this was important, I had to know she was okay. I could tell JJ was on edge by the way she was gripping the seat and looking out the window.

Once we arrived I knocked softly on her door. JJ was going to all the windows to see if she could see inside, any sign of struggle. Once she came back around the house, I fished the spare key that I have from my pocket, I carried it with me everywhere.

"Do you, have a key to her house?" She smiled, clearly trying to lighten the situation.

"She gave it to me a few months ago, she said I could come over any time."

"If you wanted to come over any time, you could just knock."

"She was also worried something like this would happen, and she wanted me be the one to quote on quote 'save her' if the situation had risen. She trusts me." She smiled and shrugged, pushing me into the house.

It didn't take much searching before we found a file on a man named 'Carl Desmond'.

"Here. It says that he had 3 siblings. All three have restraining orders against him, but it's not listed why. That's probably why she was so suspicious of him. He could be taking these kids and reliving a childhood life with them. Three kids at a time. I'm not seeing anything on his address." I quickly dialed Garcia. "Garcia can you look for an address on Carl Desmond and send someone there? JJ and I are going to keep looking around the house."

"Yes of course." Cue the sound of vigorous typing. "It looks like he currently resides on 162 Bradbury Lane. I'll let Morgan know."

"Thank you Garcia." As soon as I set my phone down it began to ring again. "Reid."

"It's Morgan. I really think you guys should come back, you need to see something." I grabbed the file and left the house.

I let JJ drive back this time, I was a little out of focus and I didn't want to put us both in danger.

Once we arrived I rushed into the conference room, where I saw everyone but Hotch sitting patiently.

"We sent Hotch to Carl's address." Morgan began fiddling with the projector. "This was sent to Penelopes computer a bit ago. She's really trying to figure out where it came from but it's proving to be pretty difficult." He clicked a button and a distraught, and tied up y/n was presented on the screen. There was a deep voice that came from behind the camera.

"You have five minutes. Say your goodbyes."

"He has sympathy." I said, tapping my foot.

"Hi guys. I'm alright." She was shaking, and clearly not alright. I stepped closer to the screen. "I just wanted tell you guys some things. Garcia, please never stop being a ball of sunshine, I don't know what I would do if you changed. You make everyones day better. And tell Kevin that if he breaks your heart, I'll haunt him." My I could feel the air caught in my throat, I knew she meant that as a funny morbid joke, typical of her. But I didn't even want to open my mind to the possiblity of her death. She doesn't believe she is getting out of this.

Penelope began to cry, "Of course baby."

"Morgan, I admire you so much. You have so much drive and motivation, it's inspiring. Whoever replaces me, make sure you inspire them just as much as you do me." Morgan sat down slowly, nodding.

"Hotch. I couldn't have asked for a better leader. I knew I could come to you with anything and you will help me with it. Thank you for everything." He tried to remain unphased, but I could see the hurt in his eyes.

"Emily, I'm sorry that I had to leave right as you got back. I never got to tell you how much I missed you, because I missed you so much. Can you take care of bink bink? Her and Sergio can have kittens together." Emily was now laughing through her tears.

"Rossi you have been an amazing mentor. I have learned so much from you, and I wish I could cram my brain with more cases you were willing to tell me about." Even Rossi looked emotional.

"JJ, please make sure Spence is ok when I'm gone." JJ close dher eyes, squeezing her fists shut. "Don't let him do something stupid. I can't watch him struggle again."

"And Spence. God, I don't even know what to say. You are my best friend, I never wanted this to happen. I wish that yesterday when I stopped you mid-fact telling, because I was looking over a case, I wish I would have let you tell me about the wonders of mountain goats for the rest of the 7 hour flight. You never fail to amaze me. I know, and everyone knows, that you're a genius. But it still baffles me how much you can fit in that head of yours. Never stop rambling about what makes you happy. It's your best trait." I felt a tear slip from my eye, I was now sitting. Listening closely to every word she said.

"I love you all so so much. You are the best family I could have ever asked for. Thank you for everything." I looked down at her hand, she tapped three times on the arm of the chair. That sent me into a fit of sobs.

*"Ok, so how do you feel about I love you's?"*

*"The three-word phrase is laden with all sorts of meaning; saying it signals that we're officially committed, we prioritize one relationship over the rest."*

*"Of course you would know so much about the phrase." She playfully rolled her eyes, shifting into her other foot. "Listen I say I love you, or love you, a lot. And a lot of times it is to my friends. Now, the whole team already thinks that we are dating or something." My cheeks flushed at the statement. "But I do love you Spence, and I thought we could make up a silent code thing for me to say it!" She smiled giddily. "So, if I tap you three times like this." She tapped my shoulder rhythmically, "It means. I. Love. You."*

*"I actually think that's very creative. Ancient scripts and languages have been understood using decoding and deciphering techniques, most famously the Rosetta Stone of Ancient Egypt. In fact, codes and ciphers have determined the outcome of politics and wars throughout history. There are thousands of types of hidden messages." I rambled a little, having just read about some kinds of codes last week.*

*"Well look at us, making history." She smiled, tapping my hand three times playfully*

After that, y/n would tap me three times before going into any dangerous situation. Or whenever we would hug. She even made me a little keychain that read *tap,tap,tap*.

"I'm sorry." Was the last thing she said before the video ended.

"The guy who has y/n is the unsub. She was onto him, and he took her. She probably went to find him and he took her." I was trying to pull myself out of the state I was in. I knew they wouldn't let me help.

"We sent SWAT to Carl's house and no one is there. They are investigating further now." Hotch relayed his information to us. I slid the file from y/n's house over to him.

"This is what she had on him."

"Garcia, search for relatives of Mr. Desmond. They may know any alternate locations he visits."

We had gathered many family members numbers, the last one we were calling was his aunt.

"Hello?"

"Hi is this Miss Melanie Desmond? My name is Spencer Reid, I'm with the FBI."

"What's this about?"

"I'm calling to speak to you about your nephew Carl. We believe he may be involved in a string of kidnappings. We cannot locate him at his home. Does he stay at any other place?" I had just a hint of hope in my voice.

"He sometimes tidys things up at his parents farm. My sister died 2 months ago, so he's been taking care of it. I can give you the address." That must have been the stressor.

"Yes please."

Once jotting the address down. I texted it to the team and began on my route to the farm.

It was only about 25 minutes away. 15 minutes in, Morgan and JJ were caught up with me, driving right behind me.

Once we hit the driveway, my nerves were through the roof. I didn't want to walk in on my best friend dead. I just wanted to hug her ~and kiss her~ and tell her everything was going to be ok.

I nearly stumbled out of the car, heading into the house with Morgan while JJ and Emily started off to the barn.

Morgan kicked the door down, announcing that the FBI was here. I immediately noticed blood on the white tile floor of the house. My stomach churned at the sight.

"Carl Desmond?" I called into the house. I heard light footsteps coming from a room over. Once I turned the corner I could see y/n laying sideways on the floor, still tied to her chair. Morgan motioned me in there as he continued to search the house.

"I'm going to need a medic in the house, but don't send anyone yet, I'm not sure if it's safe." I spoke into my mic. I shook her shoulder a bit.

Nothing.

I put my finger against her neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, and stronger than I had expected. I began cutting the ropes around her wrists and ankles. I scooped my arms under her weak frame and pulled her into my lap.

"Y/n? Please be okay." I shook her shoulder a little, trying to lightly wake her and not scare her.

"Spence?" She looked up at me with squinting eyes. She sat up quickly, wincing and holding her head.

"Woah woah slow down, you probably have a concussion, don't move too fast." I held my hand behind her head. She pushed forward, throwing her arms around me.

"I knew you would find me, I just wasn't sure I would be here for it." I could feel her tears on my shirt. She tapped my back three times.

"I love you too." She pulled back, looking at me with a crooked smile. "I don't care who hears it anymore. Everyone can know I love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You always want to her me talk about random facts, even if you have no idea what I'm talking about. When I'm sick of people asking me if I 'can actually read that fast' you tell them everything about me, proudly. I love you, so much." She leaned her forehead on mine.

"Thank god." She leaned forward a bit and connected our lips. I could taste the tears that she had shed for hours and even in the past few minutes. Some tears were even sliding down my cheeks. Even though I didn't have much to cry about now. My everything was back in my arms.

"I knew it! Pretty boy and y/n! Get it man! Hey y/n remember that dream you told me about?" Morgan winked, coming around the corner with a cuffed Carl Desmond. Trailing along with the three missing children. I almost jumped away but y/n kept a tight hold on me.

"Shut up Derek." She growled, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

"What dream?"

"Nope, we aren't talking about this right now. Can you carry me to the medics?" She flashed me a cheesy smile.

I shook my head at her with a smile. I leaned down and kissed her one more time. "You really are lucky I love you." I picked her up bridal style, taking her to the ambulance where there was a medic waiting to help her. I noticed multiple smirks from the team. I set down, wrapping a blanket around her.

"So, a dream, huh?"

[dimonds456]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269650/chapters/66625315#workskin

Tw: Disassociation, anxiety (tho nothing too bad!)

This is a response to @steven-universe-au-prompts’s post, now featuring a second chapter and an Ao3 link. Enjoy!

Steven thought for a moment. He’d have to be careful about what he’d tell her, as her knowing just how messed up he was could lead to something bad. She must not know, else she would have confronted him already.

The fact that not even Garnet knew how much he was hiding was scary. He didn’t want it to be, though. He was so, so tired of being scared all the time. But, he had to be careful. He had to be. Maybe breaking it to her slowly was the best way to do this?

The whole time he thought, Garnet hadn’t moved. She let him gather his thoughts together, still running a hand through his hair affectionately. If she knew everything that was bothering him, would that hand still be there? Would it be again? The anxiety of the unknown, and Steven knowing he was taking a risk at her expense, was suffocating.

“A-actually,” he murmured, “I need to- I need time to really get together what I wanna say. Is…” he looked up at her again. “Is that okay?”

Now, logically, Steven knew that Garnet would agree. She knew how hard it was to carry burdens like this (oh gosh,he was just adding to the pile, wasn’t he?), so she’d be more than happy to continue this discussion in the morning. But man, his brain, fresh off of hurting both a stranger and a family member, did not let him alone after the question was out of his mouth.

It was easy- almost too easy- to imagine Garnet pushing him, begging to know more so he never hurts someone again, telling him that he was a threat that needed to be contained as fast as possible. If he went back to sleep, he would have a nightmare and scream, breaking the bedroom around him, debris falling onto the lower floor, a sharp piece of wood landing at just the right angle on top of Pearl or Amethyst, then more to slam it in like a knife, they’d poof, and it’s his fault-

“Sure, Steven- we can continue this conversation whenever you’re ready.” Garnet gave Steven one last squeeze before standing up, letting his bed shift back to normal without the added weight from her.

Gems were not organic, anyone could tell you that, but because of their hard light exteriors, they did radiate a faint heat not unlike that of another human being. They ran a bit colder, but that was fine on any day. Their forms had to constantly run more light through them, too, creating something akin to a heartbeat as well, refreshing their bodies to make sure they didn’t deteriorate.

When Garnet stood up, her spot felt cold. Empty.

“I’m going to be downstairs,” the maroon gem announced softly. “Come down if you need anything.”

Steven gave a light nod to show he heard. “‘Kay. Thanks.”

Garnet gave him a nod and a thumbs up in return, smiling at him, before reaching a hand up to flick across her face. Her visor reappeared, and she exited his room swiftly and with confidence. She gently shut his door behind her, and he listened to her heavy footsteps retreat back down the stairs.

Steven remained where he was for a while, sitting upright in bed, facing the window. He could see his clock out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t face it for fear of what number would be displayed on it. It was still dark outside, and so the teen was happy to relish in the fact that he still had plenty of time to catch some sleep. Which he could do at any time.

Any moment now.

Aaaaany minute now, he’d lie back down and finally fall asleep.

But, he found himself frozen. His mind wasn’t empty per say- he had too many thoughts to latch onto one at once- but he still found it blank. In his mind’s eye, he could see the next morning to clearly: he’d get up, smile, go about his morning routine, then tell Garnet about all the demons in his head.

“Hey, Garnet! Good morning! So, I’ve had some time to think, and I think I’m ready to open up now. So, that scream was only a little bit of what’s new. Did you know that every time I turn pink, things around me start to break? I actually beat Jasper in a fight on my own- or at least I could have if I didn’t stop- and I can slow down time! That’s cool, except all of those things happen whenever I’m mad, or upset, or stressed, or just generally not okay, which means I’m glowing a lot. Did you know I’ll start glowing if I’m just alone in my room thinking about things? One time I was taking a shower and I just remembered that time right before Ruby and Sapphire’s wedding when I took a shower, too, and I started glowing! Every time someone mentions Mom at this point, I start glowing! So, yeah, I guess don’t ever be negative near me or I might blow you to smithereens!”

Cuz that would go over wonderfully with her.

But, he told her that he would open up more- no, he told her that he would trust her more, and trusting her mean trusting her to not fall apart on him. But, could he do that? If she did, Ruby ya day Sapphire would be in turmoil, and he’d need to bring them together again, for a third- possibly fourth- time.

Just thinking about that fallout was exhausting.

But, he promised. So, he’d need to start with smaller things and go bigger from there, right? Small things to tell her that might set him off…

Well, what small things were there? He thought for a moment, not entirely sure what counted as a “big” thing or a “small” thing himself yet.

Mom? Definitely a big thing, and she already knew about that one. She hadn’t fallen apart over the big one. That was good. But, did she know just how big was big, and just how bad it was? Surly she didn’t- she only knew what he and Pearl had told her. So, yeah, she was probably missing a few things here and there, and Rose was a big stressor for all of them. How much more could she take?

Probably shouldn’t talk about her, then.

Jasper? No, absolutely not. Steven was a pacifist. If she found out that he’d engaged a fight with her and nearly beat her, she’d flip.

The time thing with Smokey? That one seemed a lot more tame, but Steven couldn’t really remember what emotion had caused that pink. The roller coaster was about to go into the water, and they weren’t going to make it in time. Determination, maybe? But determination could be a positive emotion, and he’d figured out that his pink powers were negative a long while ago. Unless…? Maybe he was wrong about them. Maybe they were just a power upgrade from everything before, and he’d just never yelled loudly enough to break anything before…?

No, that was dumb. But maybe Garnet could help him figure it out. Maybe she could help him figure out all his powers. He just needed to be open and honest, and trust her. He had to trust her. That was the whole point

But, how much to trust her with? How much could she take? At what point was it selfish to dump everything on her? Would this help or hurt her future vision? Would she tell Amethyst and Pearl? His dad? How would they take it? They’d flip! Pearl would blame herself for not being there, or not seeing it sooner, even though this was all his fault, and Amethyst would try to take his mind off stuff while suppressing her emotions so she didn’t fall apart on him, but she would. They all would.

Wouldn’t they?

His gem hummed, and suddenly, Steven was glowing again. His heart spiked in panic, and he tried to force himself to calm down. It wasn’t as hard as last time, so the glow was gone within a second or so, but just the fact that he had glowed- again- just because he was thinking about stuff was telling. He was falling apart, and needed to keep himself together. For them. If he fell apart, they would, too, and no one would be able to pick up the pieces.

He couldn’t do that to them. He just couldn’t.

So, he forced himself to just lay back down, close his eyes, and try to sleep. Just try. That was something he could do for himself. He’d have a clearer head in the morning.

Tomorrow, he’d tell Garnet about Smokey Quartz, and they’d figure it out from there.

It took a while, but eventually, he fell asleep. It was going to be okay.

He had to trust that it was going to be okay.

[linkspooky]

Put on a Happy Face

We talk alot about how shigaraki is told to hold on to his trauma and emotions forever and carry them as a burden, but are we gonna talk about how Deku is told not to express his emotions either by […] Toshinori Yagi?

Are we gonna talk about how that kid despite all his tears and emotions is still being told to just smile through it all? No wonder Toshi is such a terrible teacher. @sweetened-apples​ [x]

A response to a post by sweetened-apples, who made a wonderful point that I want to expand on. Both the main hero and the main villain of this story, are constantly told to hold onto their painful emotions inside of them and never let them out. Which has led to both Deku, and Shigaraki alway smiling when they are hurt or distressed. 

Shigaraki and Deku were both taught the same faulty coping mechanism their mentors, and because they do not allow themselves to feel it leads directly to their self harming tendencies. Both the hero and villain of this story smile when they are in pain. 

1. The Failures of the Mentors

When I say that Deku is forced to always smile, I don’t mean that it is a bad thing to smile while saving someone to reassure them. However, the manga has consistently shown that even outside of fighting, those who follows Toshinori’s teachings are encouraged to always smile. Crying or feeling sad is a waste of time when you can be smiling. That’s not smiling to comfort someone else or reassure them, that’s not smiling in a show of determination. That is just repression. 

Psychological repression is a defense mechanism in which we unconsciously push away painful or traumatic memories, thoughts or desires. [x]  

Simply put there is a difference between working through your emotions, crying, and then eventually having to smile again, or forcing yourself to smile because crying is a waste of time. One of them feels your emotions and works through them, the other just denies having emotions in the first place. 

Yes, the ability to keep smiling and stay hopeful can be a sign of strength. But it can also be denying weakness. There are good and bad sides to every piece of advice given. For exmaple this is the well intentioned advice that Night-eye gives Mirio while Mirio is mourning the death of an incredibly close mentor. 

This is how Mirio acts the next day. One whole day after someone precious to him died. 

It’s good to see he got through the entire grieving process in twenty four hours. At this point Mirio has not processed his loss in any way. He is not so much able to smile after everything he has lost, but denying the fact that he wants to cry. He’s pushing his sad feelings away rather than dealing with them. 

While yes, it makes Mirio appear more optimistic if he’s always smiling from now on rather than just sitting around, mourning his losses the point is those feelings are not just something that can be shoved down or go away. Mirio has not learned how to cope with these feelings in any healthy way. In fact the opposite, he has been taught by his mentor that his feelings are a burden on others and that he can only ever show them his smile. 

In the heat of the moment it makes sense not to cry, but what about afterwards? Are heroes just neer supposed to get hurt, or never feel pain all of their lives even when they are not being heroes? Mirio has been taught an incredibly unhealthy way of dealing with his emotions by his mentor. 

Coping techniques can be adaptive, which increase functioning while decreasing the of perceived level of stress, or maladative which do not increase functioning, but rather temporarily decrease the symptoms of stress while the stressor maintains it strength, or worsens.

Simply smiling does not make the pain go away, in fact it’s a way of holding the pain close in the exact same way Shigaraki was taught to. Both Deku and Shigaraki are taught extremely maladative coping mechanisms from their mentors that make them incapable of dealing with their pain. 

But All Might was the strongest hero and he was always smiling! Except, that All Might while being well-intentioned is extremely emotionally immature. All Might is expected to be the adult figure in Midoriya’s life, and yet All Might can’t even handle the simplest of confrontations. 

His primary strategy for dealing with literally anything remotely emotionally challenging, like the sidekick he lost in the past, or telling Midoriya information that might endanger him or disappoint him is to just avoid the conversation entirely. All MIght one of the most brave and heroic characters in the series, is a coward who runs away at any show of complicated feelings.

All Might is so obsessed with being a symbol that he literally cannot function as a person. That is why All Might and All for One parallel each other. They both have tremendous strength and exist in the symbols of good and evil, and yet, their real selves are incredibly injured, broken bodies, frail and barely clinging to life. 

This is exactly what he was meant to learn from Mirio. All might isn’t being heroic here, he’s refusing to accept anybody’s else, because that would be an admission that he was weak. He’s not trying to heal, he’s just refusing to believe he was ever injured in the first place. 

All Might just cannot accept help, or cannot accept that he is weak like a proper adult. The result of repressing his emotions his entire life, he does not know how to handle any negative emotion at all. He does not know how to admit when he’s not strong. He leaves out extremely critical information and keeps secrets, not because he thinks it’s for the best but because it’s just difficult for him to hold a human conversation. 

Theseare also habits that lead to All Might’s self harm. Fighting until the point that he’s coughing and spewing up blood. Not caring about the condition of his body at all. It’s no longer a selfless sacrifice, it becomes an act of self harm. 

All Might despite having already experienced what a tragedy it was to keep fighting until your body was broken, and his fall out with Nighteye does not try to teach Midoriya to be better than him in this regard. Instead, he encourages and pushes on the same unhealthy attitudes to his protege.  

He’s pushing this emntality on a kid who is young, and doesn’t know any better. All Might who should have learned from all of his mistakes, instead unawarely, passively, passes on the exact same mindset that lead to his demise. 

All Might says he can’t give Deku all the answers, when he literally has not given him any. Even in his attempt to teach Deku, he does not admit he made a lot of mistakes in his life and his philosophy could be wrong. He just… tells Deku to stop punching and kick with his feet instead. 

All for One actively encourages Shigaraki towards self destruction. However, All Might passively pushes the same self destructive mindset onto Deku without being aware of it. He does not go out of his way to stop a child from repeating the mistakes that he an adult has mad, and instead constantly throws Deku straight into sink or swim methods of teaching and expects him to learn it all by himself. Which is no wonder why we have seen Deku repeat the same self harming behaviors, and continually breaking his own body to save others, over, and over again with no one attempting to stop him or curbing his behavior. 

Yes this is not intentional on All Might’s part the same way it is for All For One, but it is still something he should know better. All for One’s manipulations are particularly effective because they actually prevent Shigaraki from healing, or moving past his pain in any significant way while at the same time telling him that this is the only way for him to heal. 

Shigaraki has been influenced to believe that he will always be in pain, and rather than trying to let go of that pain he should keep it inside of him because there’s no true way for him to release it. 

This was an intentional manipulation on All for One’s part, so Shigaraki would never grow up, and never develop into anything but the exact kind of successor All for One wanted him to be. He would forever remain a powerless child lashing out, unable to be reasoned with, and unable to heal in any way. 

The reason Shigaraki smiles when he is inflicting pain on others is because he is coping the same way that Deku does. He believes that when he lashes out, it’s the only way he’s capable of feeling good, that if he lashes out enough the pain will go away.

That feeling is the temporary relief from the emotions that he constantly feels inside of him. He has been taught that the only freedom for him will come by holding all of his painful emotions close to him and never letting go. But All for One’s manipulations show he cannot work through his stress in any meaningful way, because he always has to hold his stress close, the moment he relieves it he starts to pile it up again. The same way that All Might by denying his pain keeps fighting until he is broken, Shigaraki by always holding onto his pain believes that there’s no such thing in comfort for him in life and his pain will never go away. That there is nothing in this world that can truly make him feel good again. All of his smiles are faked, all of his smiles are forced as he tries to enjoy destruction like he was told he would enjoy it. As he tries to feel better about the things sensei told him would make him feel better. 

That rather than being a crying weak child, he needs to become stronger than anyone else. That these emotions cannot effect him if he is powerful. It’s the mirror image of All Might’s own philosophy.  Deku and Shigaraki smile for the same reasons, because both of them are told if they put on a smile and force themselves to enjoy things, then the pain will go away. They’re both taught that pain is something that they have to hold close to their heart and never let show, or let go of. 

2. Shigaraki and Deku’s Self Destruction

Due to the fact that both of them constantly repress their own pain and do not allow themselves to feel it, they also ignore the warning signs that their body gives them and constantly break their bodies when they fight. Not in a brave, or heroic way, but a way that’s simply unhealthy and could destroy them if left unchecked. 

Yes, these  acts where Deku sacrifices his body for the sake of others look heroic at first, but at the same time this is always Deku’s first go too response. He always thinks it’s best if he’s the one who’s hurt. It’s fine if he’s the only one who is hurting. 

And let’s say in the fight against Muscle he had no choice because a kid was there and he had to save him. Even if you give Deku that concession look at how Deku immediately acts when he is out of danger with both arms broken. When he really needs to run away and give himself a chance to heal because he could seriously die in this condition. 

He rides piggy back on Shouji with two broken arms, even though there are others heroes fighting too. His decision is not to get himself to safety, but throw himself back in harm’s way again because that is always Deku’s response. 

Deku when the battle ends does not work through his emotions in any kind of meaningful way, and he does not learn from them. Which is why every single time that someone is endanger, he will repeat the same, reckless, habit of throwing himself into harm’s way without thinking of the consequences on his body. For Deku smiling is not being strong, it’s just flipping a switch that turns his emotions off. 

Yes, in the moment you might have to smile and stay calm, the point is even after battles the switch stays flipped off. Deku isn’t told to learn from his mistakes and take better care of himself, and not end up the same way All Might did, he’s only ever told, get stronger, get stronger, get stronger, as if strength is all that matters to being a hero. 

Which is why we see even as far as the Chisaki arc, Deku still has not learned better. His response to a situation of danger is to recklessly throw himself in and the result of that is he nearly dies once again when Eri’s quirk goes out of control. 

Deku never learns from his pain, and therefore the source of his pain is never removed. He acts like he has grown stronger when he just succumbs to the same mistakes over and over again. Then there is Shigaraki, who desperately seeks to be liberated from his burdens and yet at the same time lets those burdens pile up.

Shigaraki’s destruction and lashing out in the end never relieves him. Even if he’s smiling, even if he’s laughing and enjoying himself in the moment inevitably the itch always comes back. 

Shigaraki’s attempts to deny and escape his pain only aggravate his psychological wounds further, and due ot that fact the itch always comes back when he’s come down. The character who seems the freest in the manga, is actually the most burdened. He’s trapped in a cycle of abuse he cannot escape from, or grow past in any meaningful way because he never faces his emotions just like Deku, he just tries to deny them, vent them, or throw everything away. 

And from that we can see, Shigaraki fights almost the exact same way Deku does. He throws himself straight into danger, he fights until his body is in pieces. A month before Deika, he fought Gigantomachi exposed in the mountains without eating, sleeping.

As a result of that it’s clear both Shigaraki’s mind and body are breaking down, but his response to that is just to throw himself into another fight yet again at the next available oppurtunity. 

We see Shigaraki literally losing his mind and breaking down in the middle of battle, and what is his response to that. He throws himself into danger once again even while he’s in the middle of breaking apart, and fights Re-Destro head on. Re-destro even comments, that Shigaraki does not dodge attacks that he should dodge because he’s too focused on fighting and inflciting damage and cares little about what happens to his own body as a result.

ANd Shigaraki denies that he is in pain. He denies that anything bad has happened to him. He instead chooses to keep fighting and loses his mind, smiling and laughing while everything breaks around him and he breaks. 

And this is the result of Shigaraki’s failed coping. He fights until he is completely in tatters, and then has broken his body so much that in the aftermath of the body, covered in bandages he can barely stand up. 

Even then he hides his pain and pretends he’s just fine, and still walks around when he should be recovering. Shigaraki is the extreme result of what Deku ignoring his own pain can lead to, but in the end both of them are coping the exact same way. 

Denying their weakness does not make them strong, in fact it does the opposite as it is something that can get them killed.