#this was the catharsis I was waiting 3 YEARS for

[jedimemery]

“This is me praying that…

This was the very first page…

…not where the storyline ends.

My thoughts will echo your name…

…until I see you again.”

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Last, Last Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~7.3k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!

Alternate Ending! Spencer Masterlist

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.” 

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart. 

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.” 

“Wait for the potential of us?” 

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.” 

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.” 

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face. 

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....” 

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…” 

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved. 

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough. 

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.” 

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home. 

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..” 

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him. 

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty. 

And it stuck. 

Now? It stung. 

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms. 

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...” 

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face. 

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time. 

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you. 

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it. 

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you. 

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years. 

Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job. 

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off. 

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years. 

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone. 

Emily Prentiss

______________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.” 

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. . 

Spencer just stared at the photo. 

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.  I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call. 

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.” 

Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything. 

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?” 

“What?” 

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.” 

“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?” 

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now. 

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life. 

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter. 

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely. 

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit. 

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night. 

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car. 

Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face. 

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.” 

“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort. 

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?” 

The three of you moved inside. 

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like. 

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you. 

“What do you know about Cat Adams?” 

That bitch. 

______________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.” 

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.” 

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.” 

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was. 

“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.” 

Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips. 

Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too. 

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file. 

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh. 

“What is the last thing you know about her?” 

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later. 

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces. 

“What? What happened?” 

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?” 

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–” 

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.” 

Both of them went silent. 

“So is he out?” 

They nodded slowly, silently. 

“How long was he in there.”

Nothing. 

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.” 

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down. 

Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you. 

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?” 

“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.” 

Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her. 

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile. 

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind. 

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed. 

______________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room. 

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.” 

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.” 

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.” 

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer. 

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid. 

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture. 

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?” 

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.” 

______________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it. 

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest. 

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong. 

Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter. 

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?” 

“She took your father and sister.” 

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.” 

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear. 

“So why is she here?” You whispered back. 

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.” 

Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation. 

The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet. 

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent. 

The pity from Rossi's look was palpable. 

“Don’t even start.” 

He shrugged and stayed silent. 

Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.” 

Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.” 

You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone. 

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch. 

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch. 

______________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.” 

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.” 

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.” 

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?” 

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office. 

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily. 

Emily sighed in agreement. 

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n  really shouldn’t be in there.” 

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.” 

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ. 

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.” 

______________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open. 

And there he was. 

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years. 

And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams. 

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship. 

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed. 

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit. 

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine. 

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger. 

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?” 

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face. 

Remember what Prentiss had said to you. 

“You know why I’m here.” 

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them. 

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back. 

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off. 

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?” 

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser. 

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue. 

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.” 

You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense. 

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face. 

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before. 

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.” 

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.” 

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud. 

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?” 

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.” 

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?” 

“No.” you just looked down at your hands. 

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.” 

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?” 

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.” 

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her.  “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch. 

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed. 

Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?” 

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine. 

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.” 

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.” 

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.” 

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head. 

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.” 

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where. 

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.” 

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you. 

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?” 

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you. 

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?” 

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.” 

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?” 

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.” 

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.” 

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?” 

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here.  Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”. 

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?” 

“Last year.” 

“Was he good in bed?” 

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.” 

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow. 

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?” 

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”  

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?” 

“ I planned and I... I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send. 

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.” 

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.” 

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” . 

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.” 

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.” 

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.” 

She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer. 

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.” 

______________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up. 

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” 

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.” 

“Would you have written me back?” 

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer. 

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison. 

______________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke.  “We need to debrief.” 

Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in. 

“Spencer, are you okay?” 

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug. 

He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.

You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound. 

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached. 

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away. 

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other. 

“I should explain all of this.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.” 

You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.” 

He just nodded, staring at you really. 

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back. 

“Thank you for saving my sister and father.” 

Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find. 

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief. 

“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.” 

Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face. 

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger. 

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.” 

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…” 

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation. 

You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…” 

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was. 

He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.” 

Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better. 

You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago. 

You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him. 

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you. 

Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 

It was Spencer who spoke first. 

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—” 

You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did. 

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered. 

The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different. 

It’s not the way it used to be. 

“I need to go Spencer.” 

He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek. 

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. 

“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure. 

“Y/n…”

You took another step away from him and shook your head. 

“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.” 

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.” 

“Y/n please.” 

“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.” 

Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek. 

Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out. 

You didn’t. 

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you. 

But it had to end. 

You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you. 

Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car. 

Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces. 

You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you. 

The doors shut. 

You were all alone in this hollow parking garage. 

Your heart was aching, burning. 

But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time. 

[4dango-the2nd]

4Dango Comic Masterlist

These are mostly twitter links right now. I’ll slowly replace them with the tumblr posts as I upload the comics here!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BIRTHDAYS Anthology

Bennett’s Birthday (twt 2022)

Childe’s Birthday (twt 2021) (2022)

Diluc’s Birthday (twt 2021)

Eula’s Birthday (twt 2021)

Jean’s Birthday (twt 2022)

Kaeya’s Birthday (twt 2020) 

Kaveh's Birthday (2023)

Kokomi’s Birthday (2022)

Razor’s Birthday (twt 2021)

Rosaria’s Birthday (twt 2022)

Sara’s Birthday (2022)

Xiao’s Birthday (2021)

Zhongli’s Birthday (twt 2021)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CELEBRATION Anthology

Secret Santa (2020)

Father’s Day (twt 2021)

Christmas (2021)

New Year (2022)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MONDSTADT Anthology

Albedo-centric:

Voices in Ice & Snow (Corrupted Albedo dj, Completed) [twitter] [webtoon]

Cold Tolerance & Homunculus Body (ft. Albedo, Aether)

My Sword (ft. Albedo, Aether, CW: GORE)

Ghost AU page test (ft. Albedo, Aether)

“Father” (ft. Albedo, Subject 2, Dainsleif)

Fleeting Shadow (ft. Albedo, Subject 2, Aether)

Teasing Huffman (ft. Albedo, Huffman)

.

Dawn Winery centric (Diluc, Kaeya, Adelinde):

Eye (ft. Diluc & Kaeya)

Badass Adelinde

Diluc’s Raw Strength (ft. Diluc, poor hilichurl)

Long Live The King (ft. Kaeya, Diluc, Kaeya’s father)

500 Years (ft. Kaeya, Kaeya’s father)

Rain Anthology flipbook animation

.

AUs:

LUPICAL (Modern AU) [webtoon]

Mondt Gala [twitter thread]

.

Others:

Klee’s Big Bang skill (animation)

Use Your Claws, Boy (ft. Razor, Rosaria)

If You Hurt Him (ft. Razor, Rosaria)

Shadows (ft. Diluc & Rosaria, crack ship)

Growing Up (ft. Razor, Klee) [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

Ties (ft. Diluc, Razor)

Summer Event (ft. Razor, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Dvalin)

Viktor & Lily

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LIYUE Anthology

Ancient Liyue Collection

Burning Karmic Debt (Indarias’ death)

Farewell Havria

Xiao’s Hobby

Qiqi’s Wish (Lantern Rite comic, ft. Qiqi, Xiao)

Resonant Wave zine entry (ft. Tartali, Childe/Zhongli)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

INAZUMA Anthology

Teppei’s Ambition (ft. Teppei, Aether, Scaramouche)

Familiar Fatui Recruit (ft. Aether, Childe, Chouji)

Grand Aspiration (ft. Kazuha, Kazuha’s Friend)

Orobashi & his Generals (character fandesigns)

Rui & Kanna Kapatcir (character fandesigns)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SCARAMOUCHE Anthology

KAGOME [Webtoon compilation]

Kabukimono's Tales of Tatarasuna

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

If Niwa, Katsuragi, & Nagamasa comes back to life (ft. Wanderer)

If Niwa comes back to life (ft. Wanderer, Kazuha, Niwa)

Kabukitty

Standalones not featured in my books:

Catharsis (ft. Wanderer, Dottore)

Wanderer animation (based on Deko’s illustration)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SUMERU Anthology

Bug Talks (ft. Collei, Cyno)

Following Footsteps (ft. Cyno, Collei)

Caretaker & Protector (ft. Collei, Cyno, Tighnari)

Pay Attention, Or Else (ft. Collei, Cyno, Tighnari, Aether)

Do You Remember (ft. Nahida, Aether, Lumine)

Ashes & You (ft. Kaveh, Alhaitham)

Samsara (ft. Dottore, Nahida)

Flower for my most gallant knight (ft. Dehya, Dunyarzad)

Your Turn, Milady (ft. Dehya, Dunyarzad)

.

NPC-centric:

The Gilded Sand’s Lullaby (ft. Jeht, Jebrael)

Falcon’s Sunset (ft. Aether, Tadhla)

Child of Snow & Forest (ft. Alphonso, Rana, Arana)

Waiting Forever (ft. Alphonso, Aether, Iotham)

Zandik’s Dream (ft. Zandik/Dottore, Rukkhadevata)

.

Character Fandesigns

Professor Cyrus [grandpa energy] [fandesign]

Pari [part 1 twt] [part 2 twt]

Sheikh Zubayr (doodle)

Greater Lord Rukkhadevata (before cutscene release)

Nabu Malikata, Goddess of Flower 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Others

Rhinedottir fandesign

We Promised (ft. Aether, Lumine)

“I’m Just A Feeble Scholar” (commission, ft. Alhaitham/Aether)

Albedo vs Childe rough animatic

Abyss Memories [part 1, ft. Kazuha, Kazuha’s Friend] [part 2, ft. Lumine, Enjou, Kazuha’s Friend]

Missing You (ft Aether, Lumine, Albedo)

Humble Wish (ft. Lumine, Dainsleif, Aether)

Deception (ft. Aether, Venti, Zhongli)

[muldermuse]

this is kind of a ramble so bear with me:

thinking about sending two sinners!gator into an absolute tailspin when he shows up to your house to see everything in boxes and your clothes packed up in a few suitcases by the door

he’s like ????? WHAT IS GOING ON WHERE ARE YOU GOING???? and just casually saying “skipping town” and going to kiss him and he’s like ??????

i can only imagine the catharsis of telling him that “there’s nothing in fargo for me, most of the town hates me and the ones who don’t just wanna fuck me, you’re probably gonna marry glenda which will only make everyone hate me even more if they find out i’m the other woman. So I want to live somewhere else. I’m not happy here.” and he obv freaks out

and maybe you’re just going to stay at a friends house while your place gets painted, but maybe leaving was on your mind (it’s easier to sell a house with fresh paint👀), and maybe you wanted to see how serious he was about coming with you…but none of that is any of his business…

i’m usually not an angst girlie but i’m on my period and it’s probably a safer bet to be melodramatic and pick a fight with a fictional man than one i actually know 😭😭

ok this ask made me feral, i felt so ANGSTY writing it

thank u so much for sending it through angel <3

18+ only!! Angst below the cut!! Gator is mean and reader is maybe meaner. They're both terrible people. He calls her a whore, she calls him a lot of mean names. Mentions of smut but no actual smut.

Maybe, this is super far in the future for the two sinners fic or maybe it is not canon. who knows!!! not me!!!

You’re not sure how he found out. You’ve quietly handed your notice in at work and said goodbye to the few in this shitty town you care about. Jenson, Jax and Steve have been ghosted (but you know that they’d all come back with a simple ‘you up?’ text). You weren’t going to tell Gator you were leaving- he didn’t deserve a goodbye. You’d planned to go for 3 months as your place was going to get renovated in that time (you’d been saving up for years to make it more of a home). So, you thought that the months away would be an opportunity to become a new person. A better person. Someone who didn’t fuck pathetic Sheriffs. If anyone looked in; they’d think you were going forever. You’d decided that as soon as you left, you’d block Gator and when (or if) you returned, you’d avoid him like the plague.

The U-HAUL parked in your drive probably gave it away. Or when Glenda saw you filling up your truck and made a snide comment about what you were doing. Or maybe it was when you fucked him 2 days ago he made a passing comment about how empty your home looked. Since then, the entire hall area is covered in boxes filled with your possessions. You try not to let it depress you that your whole life has been packed up in a matter of days. You need a fresh start, you’re moving in with a friend a few towns over and you can be whoever you want to be for a few months. No one there has to know that you’ve been fucking a loser in a relationship for the best part of 2 years. You know it’s him as soon as he knocks on the door, no one knocks as loud as him and other people wait to be invited in. Gator lets himself in as you’re checking your backpack one final time.

“The fuck is all this shit?” He kicks a box that’s in his way and you’re thankful you don’t hear a shatter.��“Saw the U-Haul and uh- Glenda saw you fillin’ up. Plannin’ a trip or somethin’?”. He tries to sound unbothered but you know him better than that.

You don’t look at him when you tell him, “Yeah, I’m leaving”. You tell yourself that it’s because you’re checking your backpack but really it’s because you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins and you’re trying to compose yourself before you lose your shit.

“The fuck did you jus’ fuckin’ say?”

“Sorry, I’ll say it slower because you’re a fuckin’ idiot. I am leaving”. You draw out the last three words and stare at him. You can hear your heart thumping in your ears as you try to read the expression on his face. It’s a mix of anger, confusion, and sadness. A soft kiss his pressed to his cheek as you walk into the dining room to check your toiletries box. That’s the only pleasantry you’ll exchange with him today- or maybe ever again.

His boots stomp behind you as he follows you in. “Well, where are you goin’?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m there, Gator. Now you can fuck off back to Glenda and play fuckin’ happy families for the rest of your life”.

“Well- why are you leavin’? You’ve never mentioned this before”. His voice breaks as he speaks, either a sign he’s getting choked up or he’s getting really angry.

You can feel the anger rattling in your chest and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears becomes overwhelming. “Why am I going? Gator, everyone in this town fuckin’ hates me or thinks that I’m a total whore because of your fuckin’ bitch of a girlfriend. Who- by the way, you’re goin’ to marry because you’re too fuckin’ chickenshit to upset your crazy daddy…” You slam your hands on the table and take a quick breath, “Gator- I fuckin’ hate it here, I’m miserable and I can’t do it any longer- it’s killin’ me”.

He’s stood opposite you and fuck, does he look mad. He doesn’t move for a minute but then shoves your boxes off the table and kicks them when they hit the floor. After a few seconds, he kicks them again with more force and slams his hands on the table.

“Yeah, real fuckin’ mature Gator, breaking my shit beca-“

“What about this? What about us?” His voice is more muted than you’ve ever heard it. His breath is shuddering gasps. You’re unsure why it enrages you.

You laugh cruelly, “What us? What the fuck are you talking about? Gator, you have a fuckin’ girlfriend who you’re going to marry.”

“Yeah but when has that stopped you- huh? You can’t put this all on me. You’re jus’ as bad as me.”

He moves to stand in front of you. The energy in the room is charged, usually, when it feels like this between the pair of you, it would end in some angry sex where you’re both trying to dominate the other person but you both know that isn’t going to happen today. 

“You’re movin’ away to be a fuckin’ whore somewhere else... or because you’re jealous of Glenda. She gets all of me and you jus’ get the fuckin’ scraps”. His smile is wicked and his eyes look darker than you’ve ever seen them.

You take a step closer to him, “I couldn’t think of anything fucking worse than havin’ all of you. You’re a pathetic fuckin’ daddy’s boy who’s never won anythin’ in his life”. You get close enough to whisper in his ear, “you’re a fuckin’ loser, Gator.”

You hate how much you want to fuck him in this moment and by the red bloom that’s creeping up his neck; you know he feels the same.

He leaves your home silently. He kicks another box on his way out and you finally hear a shatter. His tyres spin as his car races off your front lawn. 

You should block his number and know that that is the end of this awful affair. 

But you both know that it isn’t.

[firenati0n]

roop's first rwrb fics aka fics that left an impact aka fics that kicked off her rwrb fic love aka fics that make her heart go weeeoooweeeooo <3

hello! this list was quite literally revealed to me in a dream just now...which means now you all have to read it. happy holidays. a gift for you.

i read RWRB when it released, but started reading rwrb fics earlier this year during some tough titty times...and have since discovered a gorgeous community of folks just pouring their hearts out into the fandom fabric, giving me the courage to start putting bits of my work out there as well. here are some of the works that were present in my life at VERY roop-specific moments this year:

First fic I sent kudos to (i caved and made an ao3 after reading this one lmaoooo): With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) by @kiwiana-writes

First fic that forced me to send my first tumblr ask screaming directly at the author for my feelings: also With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) by @kiwiana-writes

First fic I bookmarked with the knowledge that this fic would destroy me: all that glitters (is not gold) by @indomitable-love

First fic I reread immediately after finishing like literally immediately: Going Platinum by @cricketnationrise

First fic I sent to someone not in the rwrb fandom but is a fan of the au so i schemed that this fic would suck them into the rwrb fandom and I was successful: Rogue's Gallery by @orchidscript

First fic(s) I sent to a boy as a bizarre mating ritual that actually worked: lifelines by @indomitable-love, Am I the Asshole? by @everwitch-magiks, and i ask you how you're doing (and i let you lie) by @matherines (his first fics, he loved them btw)

First fic that made me ugly cry not because it was inherently sad but because i achieved emotional catharsis i was not expecting: One Too Many Mornings by @orchidscript

First fic that made me CRY LAUGH until i was wheezing: and history remembered. by @sherryvalli

First fic that was a WIP I followed and screamed with each update: Cold Cases, Lost Causes by @tintagel-or-cockleshells

First fic that made me run laps around my room in sheer stress: Nova, Baby by @cha-melodius

First fic that made me run laps around my room in sheer thirst: Show Me What You're Working With by @clottedcreamfudge

First fic that made me giggle and kick my feet and blush: No Sense or Sensibility by @inexplicablymine

First fic that made me cry buckets in a costco parking lot: i ask you how you're doing (and i let you lie) by @matherines

First fic that made me learn something new about myself and patched up a crack in my heart: Down By The Water, I Saw You by @myheartalivewrites

First fic that taught me something I didn't know and had me doing a deep dive on wikipedia for 3 straight hours: Moonlighting by @orchidscript

First fic that had me writhing on the floor in absolute agony: What Do I Know? by @three-drink-amy

First fic that made me stare tearfully at a wall in quiet contemplation: Help Me Hold On to You by @affectionatelyrs

First fic that had me slamming subscribe to a series faster than I could say "kinktober": Temperature's Up, 'Bout to Erupt by @sparklepocalypse

First fic that opened my eyes to a whole new world of tags and also a new part of my brain: In His Wildest Dreams by @myheartalivewrites

First fic that made me feel such insane amounts of pining and yearning and longing that i had to take a walk: but if you could see us from a distance, you’d know i’ve always been so close to you by @anincompletelist

First fic that made me rethink my life while sitting in a DMV lobby waiting to renew my driver's license: Deep Blue by @myheartalivewrites

First fic that made me stay up all night to comment on each chapter as I read it in one sitting: Omakase by @orchidscript

First fic that I reread and live reacted to the author 3 hours before my dissertation was due instead of finishing the damn paper: to the victor, the spoils by @rmd-writes

First fic that made me feel incredibly homesick and had me looking up flights at 4am: after hours by @dumbpeachjuice

And finally... First fic I ever wrote after reading all of these incredible fics and wanting to also put a little piece of silly roop out into the world: our world, mine and his alone (the midnight train to go) by me :)

if you made it this far, thanks for reading. love you all. <3

xoxo roop

[fanfoolishness]

a rain that sounds like home (2/8)

After the destruction of Tantiss, the Bad Batch is safe at last. As Crosshair begins to recover from his injuries, it becomes apparent that not all of his scars are physical, and that guilt and grief are wounds that cut deeper than any blade. His family is determined to be there for him -- if only he can let them in.

Canon-compliant, focusing on PTSD, amputation recovery, and sibling grief, with plenty of whump, hurt/comfort, and emotional catharsis. Set shortly after the return from Tantiss and my fic Breaching the Wall. 43,000 words total.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Chapter 2: Shattered.

Omega misses Echo, and reaches out to another brother. Crosshair tries to be there for her. 3600 words.

-

He blinked his eyes open, squinting against sudden daylight flooding the shuttle.  A heavy weight pressed in on his ribcage, and he coughed.  “Ugh!  Batcher!  All right, all right, I’m getting up.”

Crosshair sat up in his bunk, years of long practice keeping his back and neck bent to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling.  He poked his head out and swung his legs over the side of the bunk, glancing around.  Wrecker and Hunter’s bunks were empty.  Batcher had obediently stopped smothering him and gone over to bother Omega, who was laying on her back staring up at the ceiling with her hands beneath her head.

“You’re not up either?”

Her pensive face scrunched up as she pondered the question.  “I was earlier.  When Echo left.”

“Ah.”  He’d still been asleep; he and Echo had said their goodbyes last night.  “He told me he was waiting to say goodbye to you.”

“I know he’s helping Rex and the other clones… I know he chose his own way.”  She shifted, laying one arm over her eyes and frowning.  “I just miss him already.”

There was something flat in her voice that disquieted him.  It was bothering Batcher, too; the hound rested her vast head on Omega’s leg, whimpering slightly.

“He’ll be back soon.  And he’ll keep in touch.  You know he will,” said Crosshair.

“I know.”

An odd silence filled the room, the absence of Omega’s cheerful chatter notable.  “Everything else… fine?” he asked cautiously.  He knew Omega was better about talking about this stuff than he was, but that didn’t mean she was great at it, not when it came to herself.  She could be just as good at hiding things as he was when she put her mind to it.  Ran in the family, he supposed.

She let out a huff.  “Well, I don’t like this ship.  I’m sick of it.”

“Ship’s a ship,” he said.  But he thought back to his walk with Echo last night, the way the silhouette of the shuttle had seemed so alien.  “But it’s no Marauder.”

She sat up swiftly, staring intently at him with large brown eyes.  She swallowed.  “You don’t like it either.”

He shrugged.  “Well, if you can believe it, there’ll be a house soon enough.”  It was taking more shape every day, but he still had a hard time thinking of it as theirs.  Maybe once they’d actually moved in and finished all the last details.  He tried to remember how giddy Omega had been that first day, when the walls went up.  He’d felt some of that hope, too, but it seemed a distant memory today.

She reached out absently, patting Batcher at an awkward angle, rubbing her fur the wrong way. Batcher let out a questioning rumble and Omega looked down in surprise, then adjusted her petting.   “I know.  I’m -- excited!  I am.  It’s just still hard to believe,” she said, her voice trailing off.

He tilted his head, frowning.  He hadn’t seen her like this since those days on Tantiss together, the days when her brimming hope ebbed low, when she sat against his door with her back to him, head down, pretending she wasn’t near tears.  The ghost of his right hand fired, raw and painful.  He massaged the base of the stump, trying to remind his brain there was no hand there anymore.  The skin prickled and sparked.

“Wrecker and Hunter are probably down there right now,” he tried, half-distracted by his arm.  His mouth pulled in a grimace before he could hide it from her.  “Come on.  We could go join them.  I’m sure there’s something they could find for us to do --”

She got to her feet too quickly, rubbing her face.  “I’ll meet you there later,” she said, her voice tight, pitched too high.  She hurried off to her boots and jammed them on.  “Come, Batcher!” she called, and they were gone before he’d got his first boot on.

His stomach sank.  Something was bothering the hell out of her, and she didn’t want to talk about it.  Should he let her go?  It was an island, after all; she wasn’t going to run off somewhere she could get hurt.  

Maybe she just needed to be alone.  After their return to Tantiss, it had been rare for any of them to be on their own: sleeping near each other, traveling around the island together.  None of them had wanted to let Omega out of their sight.  It was possible she was finally getting sick of all this togetherness and needed some time on her own.

But it hadn’t felt like she was running off with the hound to go have fun, or to see Lyana, the cadets, or the remaining kids from Tantiss.  Crosshair finished slipping his boots on and set out after her, trying to ignore the lingering lightning rippling up his arm.

She and Batcher were easy enough for him to spot, even without a scope.  Omega’s golden hair and Batcher’s distinctive profile cut through the hustle and bustle of the marketplace, heading to --

Crosshair winced.  He watched as Omega opened the door of the Archium, held it for the hound, then slipped inside.

He strode across the plaza, but even with his long legs it took a few minutes to cross.  He slowed down as he approached the Archium, his breath coming a little faster.  He drew up to the doors and paused.

He hadn’t been in here since the night Omega was taken back to Tantiss.

With disbelief he counted back, realizing that only a few scant weeks had passed since then.  It felt like a year ago.  A lifetime ago.  

Before that night they’d had plans -- plans to go on the run again, to move from place to place, to protect Omega and keep the Empire off their backs.  They’d resigned themselves to a life hidden in the shadows and on the edges if that was what it took to protect her.  And then in one night they’d lost the Marauder, Wrecker had been injured, Omega was gone, and he’d missed their only chance to track her.

He swallowed.  Tried to tell himself he’d done everything he could.  In that moment, at least it hadn’t been his hand betraying him -- it’d been the stormtroopers, the timing, the unexpected acceleration of the ship.  Hadn’t it?

But there was a part of him that couldn’t think back on that night without a wave of guilt.  He glanced down at his wrist, letting out a long breath.  The pain was fading again.  At least… at least now there was nothing left to shake.  

Cold comfort, but he’d take it.

He rested his hand on the outer wall of the building and considered heading inside.  He could ask Omega how she was doing.  Make sure she was settling in well.  Maybe she’d want to talk about --

He thought of the shattered goggles lurking at the periphery of his vision when he argued with Omega, when he sat alone uselessly waiting for Wrecker to wake up, when he forced out the details of his last-ditch, desperate plan.

He sat huddled next to Wrecker, his brother laid out and unconscious, his hand jerking, twisting, shaking so badly against his leg the gauntlet rattled against his greave.  He tried to keep his mind off Omega, off his failure, tried and failed.  And out in the shadows were Tech’s goggles staring back at him, a fractured, ruined accusation --

He turned around, leaned against the wall beside the door, and slid down to sit on the cool, hard stone.  He rested his head back against the cool stone.  He’d wait out here.  

He tried to distract himself from the memories insistent in his head.  He looked up into the wide blue sky, half-searching for Echo’s ship, though he knew he was long gone.  Wishful thinking, he supposed.  

All that remained was the faint haze in the atmosphere left behind from Echo’s trail.  A planet like this with almost nonexistent space travel could hold ship trail patterns in the clouds for hours, if conditions were right, and if one had exceptional vision.  He picked out the faintest disturbed smudge in a wide bank of cumulonimbus clouds, deciding that that might have been Echo’s doing.  

He remembered something they’d talked about, last night on the colonnade. “I’ll keep an eye out for a prosthetic,” Echo had said.  “If you want it, we’ll find it.  I promise.”  

If I want it.

It was a big if.  He hated trying to do things one-handed, going to reach for something with his right hand, realizing belatedly how wrong he was.  He hated the double take in the eyes of the villagers, who’d known him to have a relatively normal hand one day, none the next.  And he hated the glances between his brothers and sister every time his wrist hurt him or he reached out with his right arm, that look between them where it was clear they worried.

But a new hand would still be an obvious difference, another defect in a long list of them, and this one a defect he couldn’t possibly be proud of.  If I’d been stronger, maybe I could have stopped him --  

And there was the fear, deep and secret and crushing, that the new hand would pick up right where the old left off, that the tremors might start again.  

He shivered.  Sometimes, the absence of the tremor was the only thing that kept him from looking at his stump and breaking down.

He thought about the rest of what Echo had said.  It’s not just physical recovery.

Maybe that was Echo’s take on things, maybe that was how it had gone for him, but Crosshair shook it off.  He’d come through fire and ice, the chip, Tantiss.  He and his family were all safe now.  Nothing would hold him back from finding a new normal as quickly as possible.

He’d be fine.  There was no other option.

He settled back against the wall, trying to get comfortable, but he could feel his phantom hand triggering again.  He gritted his teeth.  

He hoped Omega would be back soon.  He watched the clouds until the dark smudge from Echo’s ship faded away.  The clouds slowly began to build, growing gray and heavy with the promise of a distant storm, and he tried not to think about the fire in his arm, the emptiness at the end of his wrist, the hollow in his chest.

----

“Wish you were here, you know,” Omega said quietly.  Her voice vanished into the vaulted chamber around her, small and childish.  Batcher nudged her where she sat on the bench, and she reached out with one hand, patting the hound.  Tech’s goggles rested in her other hand, each curve and crack memorized by her fingertips.

She’d been afraid to hold them once.  The first time, right after she and Crosshair had escaped, she’d waited until everyone else had left the ship and she was alone with them.  She didn’t know if they’d be warm or cold, if the broken lens would be sharp, if they would feel weird, knowing she was holding them instead of Tech wearing them, knowing he’d been wearing them when he… fell.  But when at last she screwed up her courage and picked them up, they weren't scary at all.  They were once part of Tech, but they weren’t him, not really.

She held them now, blinking back tears as she looked down at the yellow lenses.  Why yellow, she wondered.  Tech had told her once that he had visual imperfections that required the use of his goggles, but she’d never asked him if he could see close up but not far away, or far away but not close up, or maybe he was color blind, or…?  It felt rude of her, somehow, never to have asked.

She wondered if Crosshair knew.

“Everything’s going to be different,” she said.  She knew no one was there to answer her, but she could picture Tech sitting across from her, his familiar eyes wide and curious behind his goggles, leaning forward with that little hunch in his shoulders that meant he was focusing.  “We’re going to have a house, Tech.  Hunter thinks we can do two bedrooms!  I’ll get to have my very own room, even better than my room on the Marauder.  Hunter and Wrecker and Crosshair said they don’t mind sharing.  Wrecker said it’d be like on Kamino, like old times.”  Her eyes pricked with tears.  “But you won’t be there.”

Batcher rested her head beside Omega, licking her hand.  She was being a very good girl, making sure to stay calm and quiet.  Omega wondered if somehow Batcher knew this place was special and that she had to be careful here.

“Echo won’t be there, either.  He left again this morning.”  Her voice caught, remembering their hug goodbye, the way she’d leaned her face against his shoulder and breathed in, breathed out.  “He still wants to fight with Rex.  And -- and maybe I do, too, but I can’t now.  They’d never let me.”  She smiled, a watery, tremulous grin.  “Maybe someday, if we still have to.  But I want to be a kid too.  I want to live here on Pabu and go swimming, and learn how to fish, and see Lyana every day, and watch the sun set at night.  That’s okay, right?  That I do that first?”

Her thumb stroked over the right intact lens, feeling the tiny scratches and cracks webbing through the transparisteel.  Tech had made her learn all the different materials that went into starships, and she’d been so impressed when she learned his lenses were made out of the same stuff the cockpit windows were.  

But that meant she knew just how much force was necessary to break them.

Her hands trembled, freezing in place.  He must have hit so hard --  Questions, the terrible ones, the ones she tried never to think about, struck her.  Before she could stop herself, she asked them aloud to the empty room.

“Were you afraid?” she choked.  “Did you -- did you feel it?  When it happened?”  Her hands jerked closed over the goggles, and she flung herself against Batcher, bursting into tears.  She wept into Batcher’s short velvety fur, breaths sputtering out jerky and gasping, her shoulders shaking.  

You’re supposed to be here!  Why aren’t you here?  Why did this happen?  She’d asked herself the questions a hundred times, wondering in her cell on Tantiss in the dark, crying in the corner of her bunk. It wasn’t fair.  It wasn’t fair!  

She hadn’t cried like this about Tech in a long time, not since those early months on Tantiss.  She tried to catch her breath, tried to be strong like him, brave like him, but right now, that was too hard.  She cried until her head hurt and her face felt swollen, and finally the tears slowed, then stopped.

She sniffed loudly, snot and tears smearing on Batcher’s fur.  “Sorry,” she whispered, lifting her head.  Batcher licked her face with a huge slobbering tongue, clearly unconcerned.  She scrubbed at her face with her sleeve, letting out big shaky breaths.  

She blinked down at the goggles through bleary eyes.  “I’m just missing you a lot lately, I guess,” she managed.  “I don’t know why.  I should be fine, right?  It’s been… it’s been a long time.”

She closed her eyes, and suddenly she was back on the bridge -- sparking lightning, pouring rain, Hunter and Crosshair panting and hurt on their knees.  She’d been so happy, running to meet them, so free.  They were gonna be okay; they were all gonna be okay.  Until she saw Crosshair’s hand -- 

No -- there was no hand --

Another brother hurt badly  --

“I hate that he lost his hand,” she said fiercely, her voice still thick with tears.  “I know it still hurts him.  Sometimes I look at his face, and I can just tell it’s bad, even when he tries to pretend it isn’t.”

She hung her head.  “I heard him and Echo talking, a few days ago. It might keep hurting for a long, long time, and there’s not really anything AZI can do.  I know he’s strong, but I just worry he’s not okay.  It’s so unfair.  He fought so hard to come back to us, to change.  He deserves to be all right.”

She wondered what Tech would say.  What he’d think about Crosshair coming back to them, how he’d helped them, how he’d even started meditating.  She remembered the look on Tech’s face when he talked about Crosshair taking a different path, the quiet sadness in his eyes, the disappointment in his voice.  He had missed him so, in his own Tech way.  She remembered how he’d hunched over Crosshair’s message from Tantiss, his face hopeful and worried both.  How he’d argued they had to save him.

She knew he would have been so, so glad to have him back.

Omega let out a long, blustery sigh.  Tech would never get to know.  And she didn’t know how she was supposed to keep going on days like this, when Tech was never coming home, knowing he never got to see Crosshair again.

She stood up, still sniffing, and carefully set the goggles down back in their spot.  She patted Lula, then on impulse grabbed her and held her in her arms.  She sighed, breathing in her familiar scent and feeling the soft plush fabric against her cheek.  It felt so good to hug her again.

“You’re coming back to the shuttle with me,” she said to Lula.  She hesitated at the goggles.  Those -- those she thought should stay.  Until they had a home of their own for them to be safe in.

“Come on, Batcher.  Let’s go,” said Omega.  She felt not exactly better, but like something that had needed to come out had been released, at least for a little while.  She wasn’t sure why these feelings kept bubbling up, especially when there was still so much to be grateful for, but this had helped.  Maybe it was just that it was always hard when Echo left.  Maybe it was worry about Crosshair.  She didn’t know, and wasn’t sure how to figure it out, but she was relieved all the same.

Batcher wagged her tail, following her out to the door.  The doors slid open and daylight poured in, making her squint against the glare.  Gray clouds loomed overhead.  Batcher bounded out past her, scampering a few feet away and whining.

“What is it, girl?”  She turned and saw Crosshair leaning against the wall, head lowered onto his chest, apparently asleep.  Batcher stood in front of him, wagging her tail and waiting for him to notice her.  When his only response was a light snore, she darted forward, licking his face frantically.  

“Get off --” he snapped, pushing her away and shaking his head.  He blinked up at them both, looking confused, and then realized who they were.  He sighed, patting Batcher on the neck.  She rumbled happily.  “Hound, that was unnecessary.”

“I don’t know, it looks like it woke you up,” Omega teased.  She held out one hand, shoving Lula under her arm.  “Want a hand up?”

Crosshair shook his head, making as if to push himself off from the ground with his hands, but he stopped as his right wrist nearly hit the ground.  He looked down at his wrist, pulling it back away from the ground and frowning.  “...right,” he sighed in exasperation.  He glanced up at her, then took her hand with his left.  She braced herself as he pulled and scrambled back up to his feet, back to towering over her once more. 

“You were waiting for us?” she asked.

He shrugged.  “You ran off.  I didn’t know where you were going.”

“Can’t a girl be alone sometimes?” Omega asked, trying to smile.  But her face still felt stiff and swollen after her cry.  She ducked her head down, hoping he wouldn’t notice if her face looked different.  But it was Crosshair.  He had probably noticed instantly.

“You okay?” he asked softly, hesitating.

Yep, he had.  Her shoulders slumped.

“I dunno.  I guess?” Omega said.  She wasn’t being glib.  It was simply hard to tell.  “I just felt like I should visit.”   They began ambling toward the marketplace, and she squeezed Lula to her chest.  She glanced up at him.  “Do you ever just… want to talk to him?  Tech?  I’ve… been going there sometimes, since we came back.”

Crosshair swallowed, the muscles in his throat working.  He looked away, shrugging, but didn’t say anything.  

Omega pulled Lula closer, her fingers rubbing her soft plush fabric.  “Sorry.  If you don’t want me to talk about him.”

He turned back to her.  There were dark shadows under his eyes that made them look puffy.  He gave her a look she couldn’t read, something complicated in the way his mouth twisted, in the way he was blinking too quickly.  “Don’t apologize.”

“All right, then.”  She didn’t speak.  She thought about Tech walking beside them, nose buried in his datapad.  Sometimes when she couldn’t see Crosshair’s tattoo or his scar, his profile looked so like Tech’s, more than any of their other brothers.

A thought flitted into her mind, one that made her chest hurt.  Is he scared to talk about him?

But Tech wasn’t Tantiss.  He was their brother.  How could talking about him be scary?

She wondered as they headed into the marketplace, as they ordered some breakfast from Kai’s stall, as they ate their meal under the weeping maya.

She wondered as they walked back to the shuttle, the clouds looming, a soft rain falling in gray waves and sheets.  Crosshair leaned over her as they walked, half-shielding her and Lula from the rain.

She wondered, looking up at him, but she didn’t ask.

[kimmiessimmies]

A few things to say after "Unexpected"

The worries about James

My previous chapter was probably the most serious and intense one I wrote up until this point. I was quite hesitant about posting it, because I knew the underlying topic is a heavy one and can be triggering for people too. So I waited until the next chapter was nearly finished, too, so at least the wait wouldn't be too long. It's probably needless to say this, but I will anyway: if you worry about the mental health of someone you care about, please don't be like Sarah and assume it will be okay. Also, please don't be like Sadie and keep on waiting. If you're concerned, talk to them, or someone who can help.

That said, my next chapter is called Catharsis. I didn't come up with that title myself, but it's so fitting. And coming very soon. This one feels very big to me again. Even more so than the previous one. But this is the one I've been sitting on for years. It's been changed so many times, and I hope the way it is now works.

Finn and Jada

Lastly, for my newer readers; if you wish to know more about Finn and Jada and their relationship and break up before, here are a few links:

https://kimmiessimmies.wordpress.com/2014/08/09/august-05-coffee-and-ice-cream-pt-2/ Scrolling down in this post, to where the section New Kids on the Block starts, tells you the story of when Finn and Jada met. https://kimmiessimmies.wordpress.com/2017/03/27/october-05-moving-on-pt-1/ The section Finn moves on in this post, shows you how Finn and Jada got together.

And finally, and probably most important, is the chapter called Homesick, in which Jada leaves Honeycomb Valley. And Finn... Click below:

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Reminiscence

Phos!Reader x (Platonic) Gojo Satoru

Warnings: Angsty, flashbacks of Phos' life and progression, regret and depression

Notes: it be like that sometimes

The black screen of the TV flashes to life once again.

The camera clicks on, showing your figure sitting stiffly on a chair in a classroom. Your hair is in a short ponytail, eyes bright as your hands are cautiously fiddling with the hem of your uniform skirt. Your posture is rigid, lips almost in a grimace as you stare forward like a deer in headlights.

"Name." A voice comes from behind the camera.

"Y- Y/n." Your voice is high and strained.

"Age."

"I- I think I'm around 16?"

"Favourite colour?"

"Red, maybe?" Your words almost sound like a question.

"Hobbies?"

"Uhm, I like sleeping?" Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Grade?"

"Like- school? Uh- 10? Oh, wait, oh sorceror grade! I'm- I'm not good enough to get graded, yet." Your tone dampens, back slouching.

"How long have you been at Jujutsu Tech?"

"Maybe, a month?"

"How do you feel about Jujutsu Tech?"

You open your mouth, closing it again as you gulp, scratching the back of your neck nervously.

"I- I like it, I really really do. The people are lovely, I feel like I'm in heaven. Everyone is so kind. Gojo - Sensei, Ieiri - Sensei, Yaga - Sensei, they're all so caring. Even my classmates! Yuji is so funny, and Nobara is so sweet! Megumi's a bit grumpy, but I want to get closer to him. I want to get closer to everyone."

Your expression softens to a giddy smile.

"Say a message to your future self."

"Hey! Are we a grade 1 sorceror, yet? Or did we end up staying with Ieiri - Sensei? Did we grow up pretty? Have we killed a curse by yourselves yet? Even if we haven't, it's OK, as long as we're happy!"

The camera shuts off, the last thing seen on screen being your smile and frantically waving hands.

The blank screen of the TV flashes to life once again.

The camera clicks on, showing your figure standing near the entrance of the school. It's the early afternoon, the sun shining on your skin. Your hair is tied back into a half up - half down ponytail. Your legs now have stripes of a black, metallic substance. You're smiling brightly at the camera.

"Name." A voice speaks from behind the camera.

"Y/n." You answer in a calm tone.

"Age."

"Around 16."

"Favourite colour."

"Blue. Blueberry blue, to be specific. The colour of Megumi's eyes." You laugh, turning to look at the boy who was walking past, being seen in the corner of the screen. His eyebrows furrow, shaking his head as he hides his face in the collar of his jacket.

"Concentrate on the camera." He huffs, making you laugh louder.

"Huh, what about me?" Another boy with pink hair comes onto screen, pouting at you.

"Don't worry, Yuji, I also like," You squint at the boy, leaning closer as you stare into his eyes, "Brown, it's a nice colour."

The boy makes a noise of surprise, gawking at you.

"You didn't know my eye colour til now!"

You laugh as the dark-haired boy is seen pulling the pink haired boy away from you. You turn back to face the camera.

"Sorry about that."

"Hobbies."

"Recently, I've liked going shopping with Nobara! She's so much fun to hang out with, even Maki - Senpai. I still like sleeping, though."

"Grade?"

Your eyes brightened, hands clasping together as you leaned back and forth on the balls of your heels.

"I'm Grade 2 now! I know, I know, I'm amazing!" You smile, scratching the back of your neck almost shyly.

"It's cause of my legs, they're so cool, see, see!" You grin, running to a nearby tree and back in a few seconds.

"How long have you been at Jujutsu Tech?"

"3 months."

"How do you feel about Jujutsu Tech?"

"I love it! It feels like home! I've been training with Gojo - Sensei lately. I met another sensei recently though, Nanami - Sensei! And I met a 3rd year, his name is Yukio - Senpai. He's so frown-y, all the time, like Megumi! But he's very caring, oh- there he is!"

The camera follows your finger as you point to a pale, white-haired boy walking through the gates. He has a bruise on his face, light grey eyes staring into the camera, then back at you.

"Yukio - chan! How was your mission?" Your face lights up, pulling the boy by his arm onto the screen.

"Don't call me that." He states almost monotonously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Fine, Yukio - Senpai. You must be tired, go to Shoko - Sensei." You frown, letting go of him.

He sighs, turning around. Before he leaves, he ruffles your hair, flashing an almost nonexistent smile to the camera as your expression brightens up.

"Say a message to your future self."

"Hey! Are we a 1st grade sorceror yet? Have we beaten Yuji in Mario Kart? Have we managed to land a hit on Megumi when we spar? Has Gojo- Sensei finally gotten us the sushi he promised? Well, I believe in us, anyways! Whatever we're doing, we must be happy, huh?"

The camera shuts off, the last thing seen being your wide smile and frantically waving hands.

The black screen of the TV flashes to life once again.

The camera clicks on, showing your figure leaning against the wall of the school building. It's in the late afternoon. The sky is dark. Rain can be seen to your side and in the distance, uncovered by the shelter.

You're dressed in a light blue hoodie and shorts. Your hair is now short, above your ears. You have a few plasters on your face. Your eyes are dull, dark circles underneath them. Your hands are gold, shiny even in this lighting.

You look to the side, away from the camera. Your lips pulled into an awkward smile as you fiddled with the charm connected to the hilt of your sword. A metal snowflake.

"Name."

"Y/n."

"Age."

"Roughly, 16."

"Favourite colour."

"Blue."

"Hobbies."

"Training."

Your expression and tone of voice have not changed thus far.

"Grade?"

Your lips pull into a thin line. You freeze for a few seconds, sighing deeply.

"Special."

"How long have you been at Jujutsu Tech?"

"4 and a half months."

"How do you feel about Jujutsu Tech?"

Your eyes focus on the rain, and you stay silent.

A crash of thunder makes you focus on the camera for a split second before looking away.

"It's nice. Gojo - sensei, uhm, the people. Everything, I guess- it's, it's nice." You begin to nervously fiddle with the charm again.

"Say a message to your future self."

"We- let's keep getting stronger."

The camera shuts off, the last thing seen being your face as your eyes glaze over, fingers tightening around the hilt of your sword.

Gojo's eyes are still trained on the large TV, his hands folded as he sighs. He presses a button on the remote, playing the next video.

The TV lights up once again, showing a teenage Gojo smiling at the camera. He's at Jujutsu Tech, a brown haired boy waving at the camera with a bright smile, standing a ways behind him. A blonde haired boy stands motionless next to him.

"Suguru! Look here!" He turns the camera around to face a dark-haired boy who smiles at the camera.

Gojo grits his teeth, looking down as the video continues to play. The loud shouts of various teenagers can be heard, laughter ringing throughout the dark, empty room.

"Suguru, where do I keep going wrong?"

[fastcardotmp3]

🎊 december bookshelf 🎊

november recs | recs tag

Happy (almost) New Year! Here are some bits of brilliance I'm closing out the year in reading, and here's to everything that you guys have made this year. I'm so grateful to exist in a space with so much talent and so many big hearts willing to share in it, and I can't wait to read what you have cooked up for 2024 🥂 love, dot

🎊 INCENDIUM by @stargazersteddie- I have always been and will always be a weird dragon kid at heart and this fic was tailor made for the weird dragon kids of the world LIKE! dragon shapeshifter eddie is SUCH a concept and then to add dragon hunter steve to the mix? to add a genuinely intriguing corrupted corporation claiming to help people? to add ronance espionage and secrets in the woods and-? you know? a treat of a journey really and truly.

🎊 captain's log webcomic by @rogue-alien - That sweet spot where beautiful, perfectly representative art meets a brilliant premise in which Dustin finds a bunch of old "Captain's Log" tapes Eddie recorded before he died and things develop from there. Truly makes my day every time I see this has updated with a new page and as a comic book lover I'm fully enamored with everything about this

🎊 if you wanted, you could do no harm by @eskawrites - I'm a lover of a road trip story in which everything becomes clear because the scenery has changed and this is SUCH a beautiful depiction of that. getting to live inside Nancy's head as she goes from knowing she has to get out of Hawkins but not necessarily why to finding this sense of peace within herself and the things she both can control (kissing the girl who made sure she wasn't alone for the journey) and can't control (the big unknowable that is life) was a delight and a joy <3

🎊 mark it on the starmap with an x by @cheatghost - the Eddie POV "show me the place (where he inserted the blade)" sequel/ companion piece of my DREAMS. I love an Eddie character study with my whole heart and the way lou explores him in this particular circumstance, being blocked off from the joy he built for himself and leaning on Wayne and almost being forced into adapting without getting a say in the matter? Brilliant, immaculate, perfect, HELP ME.

🎊 max the bloody handed by @hellsfireclub - KAS!MAX!!! Beautiful Lucas POV as things fall into disarray, as his sense of something's wrong gets proven right, and with such a cool and eerie tone the whole way through. also Lucas with a crossbow which you KNOW is everything To Me.

🎊 this time of the year by @gothbat99 - robin HEARS nancy even when nancy isn't saying anything aloud and robin KNOWS that nancy needs a moment to let her brain go quiet and just be and I'm beside myself!! sweet and warm and tinged with the inevitable grief of the holiday season what if I cry huh?

🎊 The Future is the Same (but i have to try) by @fragilecapric0rnn - such an intriguing world built in so few words but the thing that has me on the FLOOR is the nancy and steve reckless grieving power duo of it all LIKE. designed for me specifically perhaps??? the characterization, the looming danger of every choice they make, the impulsive nature of it all!!! brilliant!

🎊 crash by @cheatghost (yes, again! sue me!) - i say 'designed for me specifically' a lot but this time it's actually TRUE and let me tell you!!! the psychic damage incurred was IMMENSE!! the nancy character study of all time, the cyclical/non-linear journey through grief and catharsis and hope and acceptance of my dreams, i'm never going to stop thinking about this fic you HAVE to read it, it's imperative To Me okay? okay. okay okay.

PS. don't forget to tip your writer in kudos and comments if you read and enjoy these! it's talking to each other about the works we create that makes this fandom world go round 💖

[susieandhobbes]

I think a key issue of Season 3 of The Bear is that it decided that if Carmy was regressing, everyone else had to as well.

Obviously Carmy being a tyrant is fucking the vibe but it wasn't actually necessary to the degree that everyone was miserable.

Richie

Starts s2 feeling purposeless -> In Forks, finds out how being "a people person" can be his purpose in the form of hospitality. Delightful. But then s3 basically never shows us FOH except for when shit is bad and outside the kitchen only focuses on his romantic loneliness. We don't get to see him enjoy putting a smile on anyone's face when that was his whole s2 arc!

Tina

Between s1 and s2, Tina overcame her resentment, found a genuine love of cooking as a craft, went to culinary school and excelled! In s3, because of Carmy, we see her nervous and tripping up on plating and making sauces. I will admit we get to see her her working on her own dishes and smiling with Marcus in the finale but it just felt minimal - like literally joy is not allowed in the kitchen if Carmy is there.

Marcus

Not so much regression as just barely being on screen. His mother died and he was like "aiight" and then existed in the background. His outlet for his feelings, the white violet inspired dessert for his mom, isn't even completed within the damn season. No sense of resolution. No catharsis. Just a thing that happened.

Sydney

the sigh I have sighed. My girl was sidelined so damn hard - The Bear is her whole life and she can find no enjoyment or amusement in it (thanks carmy!). But again, this was the opportunity for her to have some really nice bonding moments with everyone at the Bear (like I was definitely waiting all year for the syd & richie besties arc and was robbed) but we hardly get that. Also Syd, as presented, has no friends/connections outside the Bear and her dad and it drives me crazy that she never had the opportunity to vent or verbalize her feelings. We're just told how she's feeling through montage or facial expressions.

(And as a total aside, in that montage of reviews about Carmy renovating the bear by himself - I find it hard to believe Nat let that happen. They can't control a random blog post sure, but at least one had a pic of Carmy in his apron SO that means they sent a photographer/ potentially interviewed in person. And if so, no way Nat would let anyone talk about Carmy being the sole savior of the Bear in her face without correcting the fuck out of them. It's honestly kinda shocking that Carmy even would)

[void-ink-studios]

Lost but Loved, Forever and Always

Don't be alarmed by the title, no one dies in this fic.

I wanted to do this for quite a while. Prismo has been constantly comforting Scarab. It's time for Scarab to return the favor. We're talking about Jake tonight.

And, this is my own catharsis. I've had more death and health scares in my close family in the past 3 years than I have my entire life. So... this is to them, I guess.

So... yeah. Enjoy you guys.

TW: Suicidal Ideation and Alcohol Abuse

Word Count: 2,700

Prismo was missing.

This was a new worry for Scarab. He was usually the one to disappear into the Time Room's lower chambers, usually to recuperate his aching shoulders.

But it was Prismo missing today. Scarab hadn't seen the Wishmaster nearly all day, not since the one wish maker wandered in. Even then, Scarab's companion seemed very... withdrawn. Quieter than he'd ever seen him, at least not since before Fionna and Cake.

Prismo's energy had been draining out of his spirit over the past few days. He started going quiet at random intervals, with seemingly no trigger.

Scarab was fretting.

He was not used to fretting. Prismo always seemed... untouchable, emotionally speaking. Unflappable in the face of it all, always a lazy sort of happiness radiating off of him. But... this was not anything the beetle was used to.

He wondered if he should search for Prismo... The Wishmaster had gone looking for him more than once, he should return the favor. But what if he didn't want to be found?

Hmm...

Maybe he'd go find Prismo, then back off if he wasn't wanted. Yes, that sounded like a decent plan.

He closed off to entrances to the Time Room for now and scuttled down into the basement.

Okay, where to look... Scarab's first thought was the pickle room, maybe he was just working on a new recipe? It wouldn't explain the melancholy, but it was a start.

So, to the pickle room Scarab wandered. He idly thought about how well he knew his way around this section of the Time Room now. Oh, how himself from a year ago would have cringed...

Okay, pickle room is empty. No evidence of it being used.

Come on Scarab, you're an Auditor. You've tracked down things that could teleport across the multiverse. You can find one messy Wishmaster who can't leave the Time Room.

He took another look around. There had to be something, anything in here...

Wait, there!

There was a missing jar from the shelf, a trail of brine on the floor. Bingo.

Scarab followed the trail, the faint smell of alcohol slowly seeping into the air. Or, maybe it was stronger, but he couldn't tell. Either way it was... concerning.

"Prismo...?"

Hmm...

He doesn't recall coming this way before. The walls of the Time Room seemed to be coming more unstable the further he searched. Walls with random notches in them, the floor becoming trickier to navigate, drop offs appearing suddenly, walls sliding into each other.

Wait a moment...

Wait, this was familiar. This was where the chase for the Crossovers ended in the Time Room.

Which means...

Scarab found himself staring at Prismo. Both forms.

Prismo, the Wishmaster, staring down numbly at Prismo, the Dreamer.

"...Prismo...?"

Prismo looked terrible, for lack of a better word. He looked tired. Scarab wasn't sure how a dream could look tired, and yet, here he was. He looked... empty. Just staring blankly at his own body, slowly drifting up to Scarab. And, even with his own crippled sense of smell, Scarab was smacked in the face by the harsh smell of alcohol and vinegar. There was a half tipped over pickle jar in the corner.

"...hey..." he murmured. Just like his gaze, his voice was... empty. He said nothing else, drifting his gaze back to his sleeping body. He took a silent swig from a bottle.

"Uhm... What are you doing down here...?"

"...Thinking."

Scarab made a few tentative steps closer to his partner.

"What about?"

Prismo remained silent.

"Prismo...?"

"...You... wouldn't get it."

"I wouldn't?"

"You don't... talk to people. Talk to mortals." His voice sounded wobbling, his voice trailing up and down. Drunk. Prismo was drunk.

Scarab had never seen the Wishmaster... drunk. Tipsy on Star Punch. Maybe a bit too loud and cuddly after a game night with the guys. But this was just... sad.

"You're right, I don't talk to mortals. But that wasn't what I was asking. I was asking what you were thinking about."

Prismo didn't look up. It was honestly making Scarab nervous.

"...You ever think about how long immortality is...? Like... compared to the shorts that pass by upstairs everyday?"

Scarab blinked, pondering.

"I do, sometimes. It's... inevitable with beings like us."

"Hmm... Beings like us..." Prismo sighed blinking tiredly. "They're like... like a blink... Like a spark and then they're gone..."

"I suppose..."

"...Why am I still... here, Scarab? Like... I'm what, hundreds of thousands of years old? I think that's too long, don't you? I died at some point... I sometimes... wonder if I should've stayed that way."

Scarab felt his chest seize, suddenly also very fixated on Prismo's sleeping body. He... he wouldn't right...?

"I... I'm thankful that you are still here, Prismo... More so than you might think..."

"Hmm..."

Prismo took another drink.

"...I'm only alive because of a mortal..."

"Really now...?"

"Yeah. It was... well, super off the books. Wasn't even pinged by the Organizer... Not supposed to get involved with mortals and all that junk... But... well, he was one of my best friends... and... well, that's all I've got left of him."

Scarab gave him a confused look, approaching Prismo's body. It was unnerving, seeing the warm, soft old man the beetle loved so fondly being so still and silent... Wait, was that... fur?

Yes, right there, at the edges of the beard and hair were little whisps of yellow dog fur.

"What on Glob...?"

"Yeah... I got killed, and he helped me with my backup plan. Long story. Complicated. But, a copy of him became... me. It's his dream and memory of me keeping me alive. And... well, the original passed away. A while ago. And... Well, this is all I have left of him. Just... staring at him, looking like me, but that's not even really me..."

Prismo was spiraling. Scarab could hear it in his voice, he was spiraling.

"Prismo-"

"And what was it for? He's... He's stuck here or he's dead or he's a monster or whatever else, and for what? For... me? For everybody's pal Prismo. What a joke."

"Love, what-"

"I got nothing, Scarab. I've tried to have something. But... what do I have to show for it? The banjo? Fucking pickles? A hot tub? I got nothing."

"Prismo" Scarab hissed, sternly, gripping his upper arm, stopping Prismo's spiral.

"Prismo... how long have you... thought about this?"

"...I dunno, man. It comes and goes again..."

"Prismo. You know I, and many others, would be... heartbroken if you disappeared. Many were the first time. Even when I had my grudge, I felt... empty when you vanished."

"I... I know, I guess... Maybe that's why I haven't... done anything. Not yet, at least..."

Scarab warbled, nudging his head against Prismo's shoulder.

"...I might not know much about your... mortal friend... but I don't think he'd want you... wallowing like this."

"Oh, what do you know" Prismo snapped, startling Scarab. "You don't know him! You don't know how this feels!" His eyes flashed purple, a black color pulsing through his whole body before returning to normal.

Scarab took a few frightened steps back, looking up at the Wishmaster with wide, uncertain eyes.

Prismo's eyes sparked with immediate regret. He looked at the bottle, then back to Scarab. He groaned in frustration, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I just... I don't know how to be when I'm like this... I've... I've never felt like this before Jake... I don't know man..."

Scarab chirped out a soft sigh, feeling emboldened to come closer. "...It is not exact, but... I do know a bit of what you're feeling, Prismo..."

"...You do?"

"Mhm. So. How about this. You tell me about this... Jake. And I'll tell you about Cricket. We'll mourn together."

Prismo seemed to be considering.

"...Can we... stay here with him...?"

"If that's what you'd like, love. But let's not loom over him, okay?" Scarab gently tugged Prismo's arm. And he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when the Wishmaster allowed to be tugged. The beetle retireved the pickle jar, and the two sat down, leaning against each other.

"So... Jake?"

"Yeah... Jake the Dog."

"...How'd you two meet?"

"A wish. His brother, Finn, they were chasing their universe's version of the Lich into my Time Room. The Lich wished for the end of all life, and I granted it. Finn wished for the Lich to have never existed. They both got warped to their new realities. And then there was Jake..."

Scarab tilted his head. He'd heard of the Lich. One of those beings he'd have liked to take in, but couldn't. Vital to reality and all that nonsense. He didn't know Prismo met him before the incident with the Citadel.

"Jake... Well, I think he was in shock or something. He... seemed confused. Didn't know what to do, what to wish for. He nearly wished for a sandwich, but I talked him out of it. Like, I could just make a sandwich, no need to waste your one and only wish on it. So... we just hung out. We watched Finn's wish altered reality for a while, and we talked. Mortals never really... stick around long enough to talk. To know me as anything other than 'Almighty Prismo.' He chilled with Cosmic Owl and me. He had some of my pickles, said they reminded him of his dad. And I just... couldn't stop smiling. Some... some human part of me hoped he'd never make a wish, just so he could stay..."

Scarab could hear Prismo's voice shaking, so he pressed his head against his upper arm and nuzzled, chirping quietly.

"But... Something in Finn's wish reality started going wrong... He started to panic. I... I definitely broke protocol on this but I talked him through his wish. The wish that would make things go back to somewhat normal, and he was gone. I sent him some pickles, invited him back, but... Well, I never thought he would. No one just comes back to the Time Room, not unless you're a god. He got his wish, why would he want to come back? But... he did. Again. And again. And again and again."

Scarab wrapped around Prismo's arm, nuzzling softly as the Wishmaster sounded on the verge of weeping.

"He became one of my best friends. He was... something special. He'd level with me like a person. He didn't have this... weird, distant respect that everyone first comes at me with. He treated me like a person and... well, that was special to me. More so than I ever really noticed... not until he was gone for good.

"When the Lich killed my human body, Jake was the one who volunteered to help bring me back. That's him, sleeping in the bed. It's him keeping me alive. And... I don't know, I don't know how I could possibly repay him for that... I can't just bring him back to life, he belongs to Death now... and I don't think he'd want it. He's on the highest Deathworld, and he deserves to be there. I'm not gonna take him away from paradise just for my sake..."

Prismo trailed off. Scarab assumed he was done talking now, as he gently massaged the Wishmaster's arm.

"Thank you for telling me, Prismo. He does sound special. And I'm sorry you have lost that."

"...I can't talk to the others about it... They'd just say I was stupid. It is stupid, getting that attached to a mortal like that. So... you're the first person I've told, I guess."

"Is this... Finn still around?"

"I think so... Humans live a lot longer than dogs. I see him on the screen wall every once in a while."

"Have you thought to talk to him? I'm certain he's mourning Jake just the same as you. It might be nice to share memories of him."

"I dunno... I don't know if my heart could take it if I got attached to Finn..."

"Hmm... That's understandable, I suppose..." He reached up, gently rubbing away the tears from Prismo's cheek, nuzzling it lightly, even trying his best to kiss it.

"So... Who's Cricket?"

Scarab hummed. Time to hold his end of the deal, yeah?

"Well... My situation with Cricket doesn't align exactly with yours... I knew Cricket from when I was still mortal, rather than meeting them in the middle of eternity. But... well, they were my best friend."

Prismo's eyes widened at that.

"Cricket and I were neighbors, in the mounds. You tend to bond pretty quickly with those burrows around you, but Cricket was my first and best friend when we emerged. They farmed mushrooms while I patrolled. Our routines would have us pass by each other a few times a day, and we'd both get into heaps of trouble for slacking off to chat."

Scarab chuckled at the memory, trying to picture Cricket's face... Glob it's been so long...

"I told them everything. We told each other everything. What we thought about our other friends, who we thought we fancied, what might've been up in the stars, all of it. Thinking back, they actually remind me of you, in a lot of ways. They had this... magnetism about them, it made it easy to talk to them, they were charming and relaxed in ways I wasn't. I... I suspect, if my life turned out simpler, we could've been mates."

Prismo gulped at that, leaning down to listen.

"But... well, then I saw the mouth in the void. They helped me research, they helped me train, they helped me get that audience with the Pantheon. They gave me a crushing hug when I went to go fight. And they were the last I spoke to when I ascended. I promised I'd come back for them someday..."

Scarab rubbed his mandibles together, hesitating.

"I... I've said I haven't seen my home since then. But... that was a bit of a lie. I did go back, once. But... I hadn't realized how much time had passed between me leaving and coming home. What felt like, maybe 5 years to me was... almost 70 for them. Eternity messes with your sense of time like that. I never saw Cricket again. It's been so long; I feel guilty I can't clearly remember their face... I remember a few things, though... they had a deep blue shell, their antenna were long and curled, they laughed loud enough to get neighbors to complain about our late nights... But I can't remember their face. Not clearly anyway."

Scarab sighed, leaning into Prismo's open arm.

"...Does it ever get easier" Prismo whispered. "Knowing you've lose someone that important...?"

"...I'm not sure if easier is the right word... It never really stops hurting, when you think about it. But... it becomes a part of you. A part that prickles and catches you off guard sometimes, but a part of you none the less. You eventually evolve the hurt. The hurt mixes with everything else you felt about them. The hurt of the loss blurs together with the warmth of memories."

"Oh..."

There was a long silence, as Prismo looked between the body sleeping on the pedestal, and the drink in his hand. He gently set it down.

"...I might not know much about Jake. But I can tell he was special. It's okay to feel that hurt when you lose someone special. But... don't let it drown the warmth you felt with them. Remember them. The hurt just... tells you how much they were loved."

Scarab felt the tingle of light as Prismo wrapped around him completely. He could feel the Wishmaster's chest struggling to heave. The beetle shushed him softly, petting his talons against what he could reach.

"...One second" Scarab whispered. He conjured both himself and Prismo a small glass of Star Punch. He picked his up. "A toast. To Jake."

Prismo blinked wetly, a shaky hand reaching for his glass. "To Jake. And to Cricket."

"To Jake and Cricket. Lost, but loved, forever and always."

The two clinked glasses and took their drink.

Scarab knew talking about this would bubble up old emotions. That cloyingly harsh coldness, fighting with an aching warmth. Thinking too long about his home did that, sometimes.

But, it was worth it. Worth it to remember his friend. Worth it to bring some comfort to his partner. Worth it to bring some light onto the peacefully sleeping body across the room.

Lost, but loved.

Forever and always.

[bakedbakermom]

can you tell use more stories of what it was like waiting/watching the x files when it was on air?>:)

i was late to the fandom - i stumbled across the episode Humbug during the hiatus between s6-s7 and was HOOKED. i was also, unfortunately, 13 at the time, and not allowed to use the internet nearly as much as i wanted. so i can't tell you about what the fandom was like before 1999.

HOWEVER i can tell you that the end of s7 was a nail biter, and the summer between 7 and 8 was filled with an unprecedented surge in fanfic as we all tried to imagine what season 8 would bring. (i wrote one that i may return to at some point, it was very apocalyptic.) there were a LOT of angry fans when robert patrick was announced as joining the cast, to the point where many of us felt like scully hitting him with water in Within was meant to be a catharsis for US.

what i miss most about those days, however, is how creative and connected the fandom was. there were web hosts out there like angelfire and geocities where anyone could make their own completely free website about whatever they wanted, with a simple wysiwyg interface (what you see is what you get, aka drag and drop) so even the most tech-illiterate among us could make something cool - and if you knew html (or had lissaexplains bookmarked) you could make something truly spectacular.

there would be surges of new fic and fanart after every episode (some more than others lol). you would find screencaps and videos on napster from those who had better tech than you. being 13 with a strict 10pm bedtime and no computer of my own, i couldn't hop on the forums after the episode like i wanted; instead i'd have to wait until monday afternoon after school to catch up on all the hot goss and new content, and i had NO irl friends who watched the show until high school (literally day one a girl named jenn spotted xf art on my binder and we were friends immediately). so you can imagine that by the time 3:00 rolled around i was positively VIBRATING with the need to talk about it.

there was one official forum and dozens of fan-made offshoots (walter's wenches, for example, started as a sub-board on the main forum and then became its own group) that felt like small towns. you could follow individuals or threads and get notifications for posts and updates. this was before social media, so it was all as anonymous as you wanted it to be.

i met several penpals on the official board that i stayed in touch with for years after the series ended and the board was shut down. one of them was a collector of xf memorabilia up in canada from whom i was able to buy several tapes of hard-to-find episodes (if you missed one, you had to hope for a rerun or a marathon) and merch (xf barbies my beloved) as well as extras like interviews and music videos and the celebrity deathmatch segment etc.

i miss late 90s/early 00s fandom so much.

also i was in catholic school and learned more about sex through fic than my school's pitiful sex ed would ever begin to touch on (did you know the penis goes in the vagina? because they never said that. did you know women can orgasm? because they never said that. etc)

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Hello there, I just wanted to thank you for writing Sea Glass Gardens. It's been a very rough start of the year with several cases of death and severe illness in the family, and one of the few things that have cheered me up while stuck at hospitals and in waiting rooms is reading and then rereading Sea Glass Gardens. Yuuta is just so wet and scrunkly and his inner panic somehow grants me a lot of peace? Which I'm sure only says good things about my mental state lol. Every update has been like a little present making my days a bit brighter.

Thanks for sharing your work <3

I studied abroad when I was in undergrad and went to Greece. The tour took us to the long defunct site of an ancient medical bay and let us tour the amphitheater that they had built in the grounds.

The Greeks apparently believed that story telling was fundamental to the healing process. It was their idea of catharsis. Specifically, they believed that tragedy led to a kind of emotional purification that would give the audience release and ultimately help them heal. So they broke ground on theatres in the same plot they did hospitals and called it medicine, and I don’t know if stories can actually heal, but I’d like to live in a world where they could.

I’m sorry to hear how hard this year has been for you and all the losses you’ve suffered. I’m really glad that sea glass gardens has brought you that little bit of peace. It’s a story that’s brought me a lot of joy, and I always love to see that other people are sharing it.

I wish you the best.

[aussietummytickler]

CW: abandonment, emotional manipulation

How *dare* you.

How *dare* you mislead my emotions.

How *dare* you lie both directly and by omission for so long.

How *dare* you be so callously dishonest.

How *dare* you lead my heart on for over half a year and make me feel like I was actually genuinely about and my feelings reciprocated, only to completely pull the rug from under my feet and essentially admit to all of that being a two-faced lie.

You have stirred self-doubt and unworthiness that I was pushing myself to fight against, only to reopen the wound.

You have played with my feelings, my heart, and stuck with those dishonest lies for so long, only to wait until I drove 3 hours for you to finally be honest.

You have awoken abandonment issues that had lain dormant and undisturbed, only for your atrocious, pathological dishonesty and callous manipulation to surge them back and bash against my mind's doors.

I would have respected you more if you had been honest from the start. I don't care if things had ended sooner, I would rather they would have and that you had been honest with me, rather than hold onto such bold-faced lies and deception for months and lead me to feel that I'd found companionship with you.

I would have rather you never reached out in the first place.

Despite all of this, you still deserve better than what you have had done to you, and what you have done to me.

But you hurt me, very, very deeply, and you don't get to decide that you didn't.

And if I am lucky, I will never speak to or hear from you again.

Let what has been spoken into the aether be so. Let this catharsis into the void allow me the chance to heal that much more fully, like that of transgressions written onto paper, and tossed into the flames to burn to ash.

And may I never know that kind of pain and heartache again.

I am 29 this Friday. And I just want my heart not to be broken again over the course of this next year.

Let me be, forever doing my best to be better, and to heal better from that which has caused me hurt.

Let my heart heal and find worthiness once again.

And let me never find myself within your presence again.

Goodbye.

[softlighter]

fanfic round up 2023

List of Fanworks (posted!)

a fairy tale [RWBY | Bumbleby | rated Gen | the first kiss]

out [RWBY | Bumbleby | rated E | heats are a thing i guess]

How to Stop a Wedding in Six Months [RWBY | Bumbleby, Gen | rated Teen+ | the Polite Society AU] (WIP)

catharsis [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated E | Galadriel hires a dominant]

careful (everyone wants to be us) [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated E | the Devil Wears Prada AU] (WIP)

waiting games [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated E | Galadriel hires a dominant part 2 electric boogaloo]

tithe [LoTR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated E | Galadriel and Halbrand are chosen for a fertility/mating ritual]

Fucking In Love [RWBY | Bumbleby | rated E | the Porn Star AU] (WIP)

the first cut is the deepest [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated M | the Fear Street: 1978 AU/Slasher AU]

meant to be (if it comes back) [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated M | the exes to lovers modern AU]

dawns y ellyllon [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated Teen+ | the Fae drabble]

fire for fire [LoTR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated Gen | what Galadriel's love feels like drabbe]

clichè [LoTR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated Gen | the clichè family Halloween drabble]

once upon a time [LoTR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated Gen | the tragedy of it all drabble]

parenthood [LoTR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated Teen+ | the early years drabble]

what almost was [LoTR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated Gen | what haunts Galadriel drabble]

one day more [LoTR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated Teen+ | the Les Mis Drabble]

fortitude [LoTR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated M | the post reveal drabble]

of the dawn [LoTR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated E | the Atalanta A/B/O AU] (WIP)

aurora (the beginning of the end) [RWBY | Bumbleby | rated Teen+ | the rock stars AU]

in the mouth of the wolf (good luck) [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated M | the Palm Springs/Time Loop AU] (WIP)

the darkest day [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated Teen+ | Celebrían sails West while her parents watch on]

the slightest taste [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated Gen | waiting and love and opposites attract]

the consummation (coup d'états wait for no one) [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated E | a public marriage consummation]

you know where to find me [Baldur's Gate 3 | Shadowzel | rated E | totally hate sex definitely not crushing on each other]

small town smokeshow [LotR: TRoP | Haladriel | rated E | kidnapping AU] (WIP)

+ four yuletide offerings to be revealed in January!

WIPs Posted: doubt the stars (RWBY) How to Stop a Wedding in Six Months (RWBY) careful (everyone wants to be us) (RWBY) Fucking in Love (RWBY) of the dawn (LotR: TRoP) in the mouth of the wolf (good luck) (LotR: TRoP) small town smokeshow ( LoTR: TRoP)

WIPs Unposted/In Progress:

the first cut is the deepest sequel (LotR: TRoP)

dead dove threesome (LotR: TRoP)

yang's body (RWBY)

catharsis part three (LotR: TRoP)

Measure for Measure AU (LotR: TRoP)

something SFW for Shadowzel (BG3)

Total Number of Completed Works/Fandoms Written In: 24 completed works for a total of just under 150k posted. posted five RWBY fics, posted twenty one LotR: TRoP fics, and one Baldur's Gate 3 fic.

Overall Thoughts: horny as hell, tracks.

Personal Favorite: my personal favorite for the year is probably the first cut is the deepest, mostly because of the themes I get to explore. the sequel is shaping up to be one of my favorite things I've ever written, but I really do love how visceral and vivid this one is. It was also me really dipping my toe into horror, which has been a blast!

Most Under-appreciated: going to have to once again say the first cut is the deepest because I poured so much into this emotionally and creatively. maybe not my best work of the year, but I really do adore it.

Most Popular: Fucking in Love continues to dominate my stats, but of the ones exclusively posted this year, out had the most hits and a fairy tale had the most kudos! although you know where to find me is creeping up there quickly, especially considering how not so long ago it was posted in comparison to the other two.

Story with the Sexiest Moment: oh GOSH, what a choice! i think i have to go with catharsis when Galadriel is interviewing Halbrand about what punishment "how that would work," I loved that dialogue and body language. That whole fic is really sexy, though, lots of fun moments in there! Out of the corner of her eye, Halbrand shrugged.  “For the first time, I’d recommend staying simple.  It can be overwhelming, for some.  Brings up things some people aren’t ready to feel, or don’t realize they feel.” She tried not to take that as a challenge.  “You’re making it sound intense.” “It can be,” he said.  “I’ve had a lot of criers afterward.  It’s a, ah, catharsis, if you would.  Releases all your pent up shit and makes you feel it.  Not a bad thing, just intense.”  He tilted his head.  “You seem like you would like intense.”   Galadriel bristled, even as her insides turned gooey and her tongue twisted itself into knots.  She settled on, “And if I would?”

Most Fun Story to Write: WHAT A DECISION! writing Fucking in Love with @set-wingedwarrior is always a blast because of its nature as a collaboration. in most recent memory, you know where to find me was exceptionally fun, especially the dialogue scene with everyone. I don't know, writing Astarion and Shadowheart bitching at each other was a blast!

Hardest: emotionally, the darkest day was tough because of personal experiences but also quite a release. creatively, Fucking in Love poses a challenge if only because it is intimidating to be writing such a loved fic. as much as we try to keep that in perspective, knowing thousands of people have literally read it is intimidating!

Biggest Surprise: starting to write dead dove! it came at a crucial point in my personal life, and I'm so grateful it did, for both the emotional coping it has brought me, the community I have found, and the fun i've had.

Did you take any risks in writing this year?: OOO! I guess I took a few! Starting to post dead dove was certainly a choice and one that I'm still nervous about, but also broaching out into horror! I've been quite settled in my niche for a few years now, so trying something new in both those regards was quite a risk for me.

Most Unintentionally Telling Story: while it's not posted, I am going to say the sequel to the first cut is the deepest if only because I really dig down into a LOT. of the works I've posted, catharsis was a turning point for me personally in some ways, or a pivot point at least, just because that psychological and emotional release alongside the physical one is such a huge aspect of why I write smut.

Favorite Lines/Scenes: DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE! ahaha, in all seriousness, the parallel opening perspectives and ending in meant to be (if it comes back) makes me tickled pink.

It was the CD still in her car.  The old sweatshirt tucked away on the back shelf of her closet.  The lip balm she still bought whenever she finished because he had liked the taste on her lips, because she had just gotten used to the flavor, she told herself.  It was the way she hadn’t worn that blouse since the breakup, and it was the songs she still put on every new playlist she made but skipped every time.  It was the way she couldn’t drink lemonade now without craving the mint he used to muddle into it for her, the same way she couldn’t ever make it how he did.  It was every imprint he had left on her, in her, and no matter what she did, no matter how she tried to smooth over and scrub every mark he’d left, he stayed like a scar.   ~~~ It was the pair of panties still tucked into his drawer.  The blonde hair ties he kept finding all over his place but never actually tossed out.  The way he hadn’t needed to buy chamomile tea since he’d run out, because she was the only one who drank it and she wasn’t coming back.  It was the shampoo that he’d only switched to because she liked the scent of lemongrass better than his former eucalyptus, and it was the fact that he hadn’t tossed her mug, the one that was short and stout and matte gray, because he didn’t entirely believe that she wasn’t not coming back.  It was the way he still made curry on Thursdays, even though that had been her weekly tradition that he’d stolen when she started coming to his place for almost every meal, but it wasn’t like he could stop himself from craving it.  It was the way she had carved into his life like a scalpel wielded with brutal force, precise and cruel and cutting far too deep, and how he was still gushing blood from every incision.  

My Fave Part of Fandom in 2023: finding a new fandom space in the form of LotR: TRoP fandom! tolkien's writing in incredibly rich, and the people there, especially my fellow Haladriels, has just been incredible for me.

2024 Writing Ambitions: Oh, so many! I don't know if I'll be able to write every day of 2024 as I've done so far with every day of 2023 (!!!), but I hope I continue to make and leave space for my words.

2024 Fics on the Immediate Horizon: Yuletide fic reveals x4 Fucking in Love chapter 16 something self-indulgent, just a matter of which one ends up finished first!

[krastbannert]

Tagged by @noexoozes

20 Questions for Fic Writers

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 69 (nice) on my main account, with 5 on another account. And then there's a few here and there I've deleted over the years.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 188,387 words.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Avatar: The Last Airbender, Avatar: The Legend of Korra, Tron: Legacy, The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, The Dragon Prince, Mass Effect, Destiny, and Horizon (as in Horizon: Zero Dawn and Forbidden West). At one point I had a Halo fic but that's been deleted. And then I've got a few original works.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

to that loyal heart (you're forever sixteen) - Zuko and the 41st Division, and what it means to those who will never forget what Zuko did.

Twin Flames - Azula-centric, post redemption, where she meets her niece, Izumi, for the first time, and finds that they have something in common.

those stories written in your skin - Zuko and his various tattoos, and the story of a journey around the world.

Lonely - Fire Hazard Siblings-centric, a small, quiet moment on Ember Island where both, for the first time, feel safe.

Wash These Stones - sequel to to that loyal heart (you're forever sixteen), about Chit Sang, the 41st Division, the loss of a child, and the healing that comes years later.

5. Do you respond to comments? I try to respond to all of them, but I kinda...lost track and stopped around 8 or 9 months ago. I recently responded to a lot of them, finally.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? The multishipping discord kinda hated for Hey, Pretty Boy, my modern AU Yuekka oneshot told from Yue's perspective. They thought that was really angsty. And the Taangst Week pieces I did were, to the other Taang fans, pretty scaring (still waiting for Taangst Week II: Electric Boogaloo). But I think the angstiest fic I've ever written is either The Abyss or Escaping the Shells - both have no happiness, no comfort, no catharsis. They're just about what's left when the battle is over, and the hollow shells of people that the fighting leaves behind.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably Across That Glimmering Sea, the story I wrote for the Fire Nation Recovery Zine - about the world letting out its breath after the war, and learning to live again - or maybe Go For Broke, the true story of a real-life hero. If planned endings are counted, probably either Brave Soldier Girl or not with a whimper (but a roar like thunder).

8. Do you get hate on fics? Ehhhh depends on your definition of hate. I haven't gotten any of the classic hate comments that a lot of my friends have gotten, but Brave Soldier Girl has gotten some pretty heated negative comments on the last two chapters.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have, but I've written so little that I don't really think I have a type, per say. I have written any in a while.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I have not written a crossover. Thought about it, years ago, but haven't.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I've been a beta reader, but that's it.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh honestly, I have no idea. I love a lot of ships for a lot of reasons, so it's really hard to pick.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? At this point? All of them. Realistically, tamehegane (my swordsmith!Azula AU) and hold you like a hand grenade (Azula & Ursa, companion to Brave Soldier Girl).

16. What are your writing strengths? Recurring motifs to represent characters and the story, and digging into the thoughts and feelings of characters so they feel real.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? The act of writing. Not kidding. I suck at actually sitting down and writing. Also, general confidence in my writing (hard to feel like you're actually a good writer when almost no one reads the majority of what you've written in the last two years). Those are probably linked together in a way I don't really feel like examining too closely.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I've tried it; something about it doesn't feel right, probably because I only speak English fluently.

19. First fandom you wrote for? The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Oh, man. Neither are finished, but probably Brave Soldier Girl or not with a whimper (but a roar like thunder). So much I have planned for both, so much research for both, so much work and emotion that I'm trying to put into each one. It's hard to say which one is realistically my favorite.

Tagging @authorjoydragon @thiscryptidischronicallyyours @mycomfortblanket @nyamadermont and whoever else wants to consider themselves tagged!