#throwing that in there because I mentioned her and she's important as a statistic to show how short Tessa is

[oldmanjenkins985]

There is something as a community we don't talk about enough.

HOW SHORT IS TESSA?!

Seriously, this has been plaguing me for a while. Uzi is either 4'2" or 4'5" (based on an old WIP tweet by glitch or the Barbie parody tweets, I'll use the most recent of the Barbie one) and she's crouched down in this picture AND TESSA IS STILL ONLY ABOUT A HEAD TALLER THAN HER!

Just based on quick glances I'd say she's 5'1".

I still stan the short queen with the massive sword tho

[communicationthroughlyrics]

Our Fire When We're Together, Mixed With Paranoid Manners

You were able to break free, and finally start your dream. But will the one who matters most make it to the most important night of your life to date? Will she see you the same way?

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this one. Just kind of meh. Let me know what you think. Not proofread.

TW: Mentions of suicide, Anxiety, angst, and fluff. Not smut in this one, sorry :]

You sat on the closed lid to the toilet in your bathroom, stripped down to all but your underwear. Today was a huge day for you. To say you were stressed, was a colossal understatement. You had to get yourself ready for arguably one of the largest days of your life- next to marriage, and you had to do it without your best friend, whom had swore to you that they would be there for when this moment had happened. But of course, in typical fashion your life had decided to throw a massive monkey wrench into that plan, and shit had literally hit the fan while she was out of the country for work. Admittedly, you were proud of how you had handled this up to now, because going through a divorce while starting your dream business was no easy feat. Of course, your best friend, Lizzie, assured you that she was just a phone call away- but that was nothing compared to the calming presence she had when she was around you. You, in your ever so stubborn fashion, had opted to handle all of this yourself, not wanting to bother your best friend for fear of coming across as selfish. Part of you knew that her current fling wouldn’t appreciate you calling constantly, as they were not a fan of how close you and Liz were. 

There had always been a tension between you two- you both attended NYU, which is where you had met the blonde, while she was going to school to pursue her budding acting career- you were going to get a business degree after attending a technical school to open your dream automotive shop, building the cars of peoples dreams. There had been an ‘after mid-term’ party that one of your friends had dragged you to, you had wanted to stay in and relax after the strenuous study schedule you had been on. Your friend had convinced you that one night out wouldn’t be the end of you. That is where you met a green eyed, blonde standing by the bar in the corner of the room, chatting up the ‘bartender’ as you had approached. You instantly recognized her from one of your statistics gen-ed classes, and you both picked up small talk, before walking to a quieter corner of the room. You talked all night, before exchanging numbers and continuing your conversations over the span of the remaining semester. You were amazed at how she always came to you with the most doe eyed, expectant expressions on her face, she was never sad to be around you, and vice versa. You both soon realized that you were each others calm, and could talk to each other with no expectations, no judgement, and a mutual respect that made everyone around you envious. Many of your friends became jealous of how easily she fit into your life. But you shrugged it off. You enjoyed her company. Only one of your fiends knew how you really felt- your best guy friend, Jason. He knew that your feelings were a little bit deeper than ‘best friends’, that you really wanted to be with Liz, but he respected that you didn’t want to ruin your friendship over feelings you were certain weren’t reciprocated. 

As time went on, you both grew insanely close, and one fateful night you have both been at a party celebrating graduation, and you both were more than intoxicated. You were most definitely the more shy of the two, but given a healthy dose of liquid courage you were known to be a totally different person. You both had woken up in your apartment, sharing the bed naked. You both agreed at that moment that nothing had happened, but deep down, you knew that it wasn’t a ‘nothing’  kind of thing that had happened. But, against your better judgement, you told yourself to push your feelings down, ignore what had happened that night, and continue the relationship as it was. You watched her date guy after guy, further convincing yourself that she will never see you as more than a friend. You began drinking a little bit more, blaming your college years on building your tolerance and not knowing what to do with your new found time after graduating. Liz had moved back to California, jumping right into the acting business, and having her career pick up almost immediately. You were happy for her, you were. You just wished that she could also be happy with you. In the time that you had gotten to know her, she had introduced you to her family. They were hesitant to let you in at first, but knowing how the media had treated her family, particularly the twins, it was understandable. 

Over time, you had won over her family, and they accepted you as one of their own. Now that Liz was all over, you often spent time with Mary Kate or Ashley while you were in New York. They could see right through the facade you put on whenever the younger Olsen was around, and knew about your feelings towards her. Every breakup, they would encourage you to say something- you would refuse, not wanting to be a rebound, wanting her to feel better first, and not wanting to jeopardize the relationship you had built. Inevitably, she would find someone almost immediately after, dispelling the “rebound recovery” theory right away, but you continued to support her as time went on. 

What you had no idea of, however, was the late night conversations the blonde had with her older sisters, asking them why you didn’t like her the way she wanted, and why you had never capitalized on her failed relationships, swooping in the way she wanted you to, and finally asking you to be together. The day you started to date your now ex-wife, the scowl on her face was priceless. You made fun of her so much, mocking how jealous she was, without really truly realizing how she was, in fact, jealous. When you told her that you were getting married, she told you that it was a bad idea, but wouldn’t stop you. Everyone told you that it was a bad idea, but you ignored the warnings for the sheer desire and contentment you had to have someone, for once, to wake up to in the morning. You never once told your wife about your feelings for Liz, you didn’t dare to. You knew that would be the end of your friendship, and that would defeat the purpose of not saying anything. But- your subconscious had better ideas. Allegedly, your wife had found the diary you had written all your feelings in, the diary your therapist had advised you to start, and in that diary were your admitted feelings for your best friend, written in your hand, in blue and black ink. That coupled with you moaning her name in your sleep for a week straight, led to a confrontation about your feelings for the blonde. 

When she gave you the inevitable ultimatum, “It’s me or her,” you chose her, not your wife- arguing that it was a 10 year friendship that can’t just be tossed aside for some ‘teenage feelings’. That’s what has led you to this point. Sitting on your toilet in your single bedroom apartment, thinking over the last year. Lizzie only knows of what you told her- that you were getting a divorce because Lauren, the other blonde in your life, your ex-wife, had been downplaying your dream to start a custom car building shop, and told you to pick a more “conventional” career. It wasn’t wrong- your wife hated the career path you had chosen. The times you would come home covered in car filth, grease, and smelling like paint thinner were too much for her. Despite it being your true passion, she never really supported it. The first time you had built a car out of a friends garage, and entered it into a prestigious regional car show, she didn’t even go with you to showcase the build. But Lizzie did. She was so proud of the moment you won Best in Show, and took you out celebrating afterwards. 

After winning that show, you began receiving more and more requests for builds. This warranted you finally opening your dream shop. Liz and her family were proud of the progress you had made, and even helped you front the cost of a tiny shop in a small town upstate, giving you the space you needed to create your dream cars. Today, you received the finalization paperwork for your divorce from the greedy she-devil, as she was now called amongst your friends and family. She made sure to take everything she could from you in an act of spite- causing you to loose the small garage upstate, along with all the equipment, just so you could afford to find a place to put a roof over your head. You were also opening a new, larger shop. You had been working 2 jobs and saving all the money you could to pay for all the equipment and the space you needed, and today is the day you were supposed to open it to the world, with the unveiling of your latest build. 

“Y/N/N, you know I will always be there. When your new shop opens, I swear I will be there for you. That was your dream, that’s what you went to school for. I remember the nights we would sit and bullshit, and we would talk about our dreams. You have been nothing but amazing, and supportive of me living mine- it’s only right for me to do the same.” Lizzie rubbed your shoulder, reassuring you before she flew out for Hong Kong for filming. 

In all your talks in college, she had never really alluded to a dream car, necessarily. But she always referred to a car that had been in her family, that an uncle had sold, despite the family not wanting the car to leave the family. You had searched, and found such a car like she described, but it had been in rough condition. Knowing there was no way keep it original, you found a way to combine the car for what it was for the family, into something that Lizzie would drive. Or so you hoped. You converted the car to a hybrid electric system, as the engine had been completely seized form years of sitting. No one knew of what you built, but you invited the whole family to the opening, with the intention of unveiling this car to them, and giving it to Liz. But now, she can’t be there. 

“Lizzieeeeeeeee, you said you would be there for me. I can’t do this without you!” You groaned at the computer screen, currently on a video call with your best friend. You slammed your head to the table next to the computer, shaking the screen, and making the blonde laugh in response. 

“I know, hun. I have literally tried everything short of saying my entire family died to be able to take a small break to fly back. They are adamant on me doing these reshoots now, they can’t wait.” You groaned again, leaning back in the chair and letting your head fall completely backwards. You were honestly having a teenage tantrum. 

“Fine, Liz. You’re lucky I love you. But you owe me.” You fire back, ignoring the pang in your heart, and the desire to tell her you really, truly love her. 

“I know, Y/N. I love you, and I am so sorry I can’t be there for you this time. I hope I can make it up to you.”

You started the shower, finally willing yourself to get cleaned up and ready for the night. You had been at the shop, putting the finishing touches on the surprise for the night, ensuring that it was perfect. Once you were satisfied that you were clean enough, and had washed away enough tension to continue, you stepped out of your small shower, staring yourself down in the mirror. You were a ragged version of yourself, the stress of the divorce and the shop closing and reopening taking its toll. The video calls with Liz were few and far between, and you always sat in a darker room, so she wouldn’t worry about your now slim frame. You had honestly just quit drinking, and began working out, so you were now extremely toned in comparison to a year ago, but you were also a shocking 70 lbs. lighter, and you looked like a zombie due to the lack of sleep. The twins gave you a full ration of shit, telling you that they needed to make up for the younger sibling not being here to do it herself. If Lizzie saw you, you’re not sure what she would say. She had commented that your face looked weird, but hadn’t seen you entirely to know the extent of the last years dramatics and their toll on you. 

Dressing yourself in a tight fitting black button up Dickies shirt, rolling up the sleeves for your now tattooed arms to show, and a pair of dark blue jeans, ruffling your hair and applying your choice cologne, you deemed yourself as ready as you could be for the night. You made sure to pick a place where you didn’t live far from the shop, so you could easily walk to work. Tonight, however, you decided to slip on your helmet and ride the motorcycle everyone chastised you for. Wedging your aviator sunglasses in between your helmet and their respective position on your ears, you fired the bike up, and took off down the street. You bobbed in and out of the traffic that was present, pulling into the large warehouse parking lot, noticing that a few people had already shown up to help set up. 

You pulled the motorbike around back, and set the helmet on your handle bars, tousling your hair in the mirror of the bike, before using your keycard to walk into the back door of the shop. You don’t know how you had been so lucky, but the demand from your first car show has left you with an almost full shop of projects, not shortage of work in the foreseeable future. You were beyond grateful, but wished your best friend was here to see this. You see some tables set up at the far end of the shop, and a little soapbox type stage, you had requested this be built into the shop because you wanted an excuse to play music on random occasions and didn’t want the hassle of dealing with a bar. You were glad you had decided to cover the gift car, since the twins were both running around, setting up the food and drinks they had brought with them. 

“Y/N!” Ashley had now noticed your arrival, running over and jumping onto you, hugging you tightly. “I am so damn proud of you. This place is amazing, even though it is…nerdy.” She scrunched her face, she never understood the passion you held in cars, but never held it against you.

“Thanks, Ash. I can’t believe this is really happening.” You respond, kicking your feet on the concrete floor, looking down at your feet. 

“Oh, you best believe it, Y/N/N. We’re so proud of you, hun.” Your moms voice came from behind you, and you quickly turned on your heel, hugging her tightly. 

“Thanks, ma. I love you.” You whisper, before letting her go to mill around and see the projects you have to work on. Guests slowly started to filter in, some of the owners of the cars now being housed in your garage coming up and congratulating you, and inspecting different aspects of the shop, curiosity overtaking them to see where their dream cars will be built. The dull thrum of music came through the shops speakers, and you made sure to thank everyone that came through the door for coming by. You held out a glimmer of hope that one particular blonde would show up, albeit fashionably late, but she never did.

“I see you keep watching the door, Y/N.” MK bumped your arm, as you were staring out from the loft above the shop, observing the 100 or so people below milling around, talking animatedly about their projects. Your dull expression on a night that should be one of your happiest, she frowned at the lack of excitement on your face. 

“I miss her, MK. I wish she was here with us. It’s been almost a year.” You responded, swirling the drink in your hand, allowing your gaze to get lost in the swirl of amber alcohol within it. This was the first taste of any alcohol you had in months, so you decided to treat yourself.

“I know, we all do. But I know that this has been rough not having her here through everything you’ve been through the last year.” Her hand came to rest on your shoulder, gently rubbing it, calming you slightly. 

“Yeah, it’s been challenging, to say the least.”

“Y/N?” MK asked, turning her back to walk to one of the leather arm chairs in your new office. She straddled the arm, sitting on it and staring right through you. 

“Hmm?” You turned around, setting the glass on the railing as you gripped the railing behind you, leaning against it.

“Tell her. When you see her next. Put yourself out of the misery, and tell her how you feel.” Your eyes widened at her request, rather- demand. 

“I can’t, MK. You know that. She’s never going to see me the way I see her, and I can’t loose her as a friend.” She nodded, looking down at her ring clad hands that are resting in her lap. 

“Y/N. I can’t tell you how she will react, but I promise you, that you mean too much to her for her to let you go. You won’t loose her, Y/N. But you’ve got to tell her. You’ve been given a second chance here. Take it.” With that, she stood, grabbing the glass of club soda next to her, and walking back downstairs. You stalked over to your desk, sitting yourself down in your chair, and spinning around to the wall of photos behind your desk.

You found yourself getting lost in the stories behind each snapshot on the wall, replaying the visions that came with them. You weren’t sure how long you had been there, reliving the memories on the wall behind your desk, but a gentle hand on your shoulder quickly brought you out of your trance, making you jump slightly. 

“Shouldn’t you be enjoying everyones company, Y/N? I believe they call it, ‘business networking?’ ” A familiar tone came from behind you, and you flew out of your chair, throwing yourself in the direction of the voice you had craved to hear all night. 

“You said you couldn’t come tonight. I thought you were still in Hong Kong.” You whispered into her neck, not letting her go for fear she would suddenly disappear. “I missed you, Lizzie.”

“I missed you more, Y/N. I promised I wouldn’t miss this. But I wanted to surprise you.” She smiled as you pulled away finally baring yourself to your best friend, who had been absent from your present life for the last year. She was dressed in a simple black tee, blue jeans and sneakers- but to you, the simplest of outfits on her made her look stunning. She gave you a once over, frowning at your current state. “My god, Y/N, you don’t look well. You’re skin and bone compared to when I saw you last.”

“Uhm, yeah, but I’m ok.. I lost 70 lbs. Between the stress of the divorce, and building this place, handling all the upcoming work, and building the project down there, I haven’t really been myself, Liz. Especially not without my bestie around.” You showed her a small smile, nudging her arm. She frowned slightly at your admission, shaking her head. “The only thing that kept me going was… that project.” You hesitated, wanting to disclose that the true reason you kept going was her. 

“Y/N, you have to take care of yourself.” She stepped closer to you again, grabbing your arm, rubbing it up and down, calming you instantly. Her viridescent eyes looked straight into yours, and you honestly found yourself getting lost in the seas before you. “Am I going to have to tote you around with me, take you everywhere I go so I can make sure you’re ok?” She laughed, lightly slapping your arm.

“Actually…” you smirk, laughing as her jaw drops and she hits you harder on the arm. 

“Ass!” She laughs, grabbing you arm and pulling you back in for a hug. 

“Well, Liz…you’re just in time for me to go down and show everyone my extra special secret project.”

Her eyebrow raised, and you swore that you could’ve died just then. “Extra special secret project? Are you 12?” She chuckled, shaking her head. 

“Wha? No!!” You looked at her, incredulous that she would say that to you. Her face dropped at your panic, and you smiled her way, earning an eye roll from her. “Its special because of who it reminds me of, and who it’s for.”

“You built it for someone?!” Now it was her turn to look dumbfounded. “Who? Is it a secret client?” She emphasized the secret part, jumping up and down while clapping her hands together. She looked over the half wall to the crowd milling below. “It’s them, it’s totally them. I know it.” She pointed at someone in the people on the lower level. You laughed, approaching her and sliding your hand over her lower back, leaning against the wall and observing everyone happily chatting and enjoying the food and drink. 

“I can assure you, it isn’t them. But to say that this person is my first client would be true. I’ve wanted to build this for them for a while now. For all that they did for me.” She turned in to look at you, and you watched the glint in her eyes. You swore that you saw something in her eyes, as she opened her mouth like she was going to say something. She quickly shut her mouth, and looked back to the group of people beneath you. You grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the stairs. You led her down the stairs, your hands still linked. When the twins caught sight of this, they both smirked your way, but you shook your head. The frown that overtook MK’s face was deep, as she set her face in a deep scowl. You mouthed “not now,” getting her to relax slightly before you pushed their younger sister over to them. 

Approaching the small stage in the corner of the room, the roar in the room started to soften as the occupants noticed you approaching the microphone stand. 

“Good Evening everyone,” you remove the mic from the stand, pushing the stand out of your personal bubble. There is a muffled response from everyone who has now turned to face you. Your eyes scanned the room, finding that the people who meant the most were all in a row together, at the back of the crowd. Lizzie was sandwiched in between her sisters, with Dave and Jarnie standing behind the twins. Your mom was next, with your dad standing with his arm around her shoulder. Some of your friends from college, from technical school and beyond. “I want to thank everyone for coming out here tonight, some of you came from out of state, and it means a lot to me that you could make it.” You lock your eyes on Lizzie, sending her a wink abhor moving on, walking around the small stage. 

“This has been a long time coming, opening up a dream business that I have been passionate about since I was young. Building cars has been a passion of mine since elementary school. I hope that this passion continues to show in the work that is driven out of those doors.” You motion, pointing at the garage doors by the unveiling area you had designed in the shop. You continue to dive into the passion and the reasoning behind this decision to open a shop like this, as well as thanking the people who helped to get you to where you are now. “Now, as you can see, there are plenty of cars in here to occupy my time for a while, and I am sure in everyones chatting tonight that you all have realized that the majority of the owners of these cars are here tonight…” you gesture out to the racks of cars that were in various stages of being worked on. “… and I would like to thank each and every owner for trusting me with these projects, and having the faith in me to put their dreams forth and turn these cars into a reality.” You walked down off the stage, as everyone claps. 

“Now, the project that has been occupying my time of late, the vehicle that will christen this shop as the first vehicle to leave that rollup door, is a special vehicle to someone who has proved to be very important to me, and whose family has welcomed me as one of their own.” You look up, noticing the reaction of the family you were speaking of. “You may be asking, Y/N, what about your parents? They’re here too. Well, the answer is simple. Ive built those cars in thanks already. Those cars are the reason I have a client base now.” You gesture towards the trio of cars that were built for your parents. “This car, is for my ‘adopted’ family. I found out about this car, in my multiple late night discussions with that young lady, over there.” You point in Lizzies direction, and the rooms attention shifts towards the Olsen family. “This woman has become one of my absolute best friends, after meeting her in business school at NYU. For the last ten years, she has been with me through absolutely everything.” She blushed and scrunched her nose, as you waved her up to you. 

“This is the car I saw in so many family photos, and heard stories of driving around with their grandpa and dad before it needed to be sold. It reminds me so much of the story of that vehicle over there, and how I felt when it disappeared outside of the family.” You pointed at the same 1955 Chevy that was your grandfathers, that was sold and broke your family’s collective heart. When you were able to track down the same vehicle, you fixed it, and surprised your parents by driving up to their house in it. Your mom was in tears, it was her fathers car, his baby from the time he bought it when she was in middle school. The significance of it, being that is was the same year her oldest sibling was born. Your grandfathers first child. SO when it left the family, it was truly heartbreaking. 

“Loosing that 55 was difficult on the family, because it becomes a family member. So saying that I understood how hard it was for this family to loose a family member, is an understatement.” You walk over to the vehicle, inviting the rest of the Olsens up to stand behind it. “None of them knew about this build, till now.” You turn and smile, taking in the shocked faces of the family, noticing the mixed emotions of what may lay below the satin sheet. “Now, I did take some liberty here, and designed it for a changing world. I designed it knowing the things that are important to the person I wanted to gift this to.” You smile, looking over at the blonde beside you. The look on her face was one of astonishment. “It may seem sacrilegious for some, but the condition I found this vehicle in, I couldn’t save the powertrain. So, considering how hard it is to find an original powertrain for this car, I did what I felt was best. I made it more powerful, but better for the environment. I was able to make this vehicle a hybrid.” You gesture, walking over to a corner of the sheet, waving Lizzie to follow. She looked over the vehicle before looking at you with tears in her eyes. You handed her the corner of the fabric, and told her to pull it towards the corner. She nodded, wiping the tears away that had fallen, before she pulled the fabric off the car, revealing a black 1961 Ferrari Spyder. She immediately dropped the fabric, covering her mouth as she cried seeing the vehicle that she spoke so emphatically about. The twins, Jarnie and Dave all crying, as the vehicle, like the old Chevy to your mom, was her dads car growing up. 

The room began to mill around, looking at the vehicle, as you lifted the hood to reveal a hybrid electric power plant, and Lizzie came up and wrapped her arms around you from behind. 

“Why?” She whispered, causing goosebumps to erupt across your body. “You didn’t need to do this, you know.”

“You deserve it. Your family, they deserve it too. You’ve been there for me, more than anyone ever has. So many times you pulled me from a dark place, and you have no idea how much I appreciate that, because had you not been there, I would not be here today.” Your eyes get misty as you pull her away towards a farther corner of the room. 

“What do you mean, Y/N?” She asks, not fully understanding the depth of what needs to be said. 

“I’ll tell you later. First, I want you and your dad to go take a ride in your new old car.” You say, smiling as you hand her the keys. 

“Y/N, you can’t be serious. You built it for me? This, this is mine?” Her hand was shaking as she reached for the keys. 

“Yes. Yes it is.” You shook your head, slipping the keys into her hand. 

“But, wha…what about mom and dad?” She asked, gesturing towards them, as they looked over the vehicle, Jarnie sitting in the passenger seat. 

“I already asked them, they agree. This is your car.” She whipped her head in your direction at the admission. 

“They knew about this?”

“Not to the extent that I did, but they knew I bought your grandpas car back. I had to ask them for the records to the car to find it.”

“You sneaky fucking shit,” she laughed at you, smacking your chest. 

“Go, enjoy it. We can talk when you get back,” you smile at her, before she went running over and hugging her mom and dad. You smiled at the interaction between the three. 

“You did good, hun.” Your mom says, coming up and hugging you. “It’s a beautiful car.”

“Thanks, ma. I appreciate it.” You smile, hugging her tight. 

“Now, Y/N… when are you going to tell the poor girl how you feel?” It was your turn to look absolutely stunned. “Y/N, honey, I know how you feel about her. It’s obvious. I may not have accepted the fact that you were gay at first, but I know you better than anyone. You and her, you’re crazy about each other, and you both keep running around it, and avoiding it. Tell Liz how you feel. She feels the same way.”

“Ma, I know. What is this, gang up on Y/N day? MK said the same thing to me not even 2 hours ago.”

“Because it’s true, Y/N. Don’t be stupid, look where that got you with your last relationship.” She scolded, before walking away. You stood there stunned at what your mother had just told you. You knew that she didn’t like your now ex-wife. You just thought that was in part to her not agreeing with you being gay. But it wasn’t. She just hated your ex. You let out a deep sigh, jumping when a hand lands on your shoulder. 

“What was that about?” MK asked, raising her eyebrow like she really knew the answer. 

“You two are teaming up on me. I swear.” You grumble. 

“Because we care? And because we know. Believe me, I know Lizzie better than anyone.”

“What does that even mean??” You groan. 

“Y/N, don’t be dense. Just wo-man up and say it.” You grimace at the statement. 

“Ew. Don’t ever say wo-man up ever, ever again.” She laughs before walking away, just as the black convertible pulls back into the garage. Lizzie is grinning from ear to ear, and her dad is too. 

“This isn’t what we had anticipated when you asked for information about the car, Y/N/N.” Jarnie slid in next to you, still staring at the car on the other end of the shop. “We thought you were going to leave it as-is. This is better than we all had imagined. They look so happy.” She smiled, taking in the sight of the three girls and their dad around the car. 

“It was your dads car, what do you think?” You ask, nudging the eldest Olsen. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N. Especially for Liz.” You turn and give the woman a hug, before she walks over to where the twins stood. You decide to let them look everything over, and dismiss yourself through the crowd, shanking hands and briefly speaking with those who stopped you on the way upstairs to your office. With how the last year has been, you find yourself reflecting by yourself more often. You see some people begin to filter their way out, at this point the party had been going on for roughly 4 hours. You again found yourself behind your desk, staring into space, not noticing the new presence in the room. 

“I was told you needed to speak to me.” The voice of your best friend rang out from behind you. 

“You were told, huh?” You smile, turning in your chair to face your best friend, who sat herself down in the chair across from you, the desk now in between. 

“More like, directed to come up here by your mom, my mom and my sisters.” She said, laughing. You rolled  your eyes at their insistence. 

“Of course, they’re seriously annoying me tonight.”

“Oh? How come?”

“It’s nothing, Liz.” She shook her head in response. 

“What were you talking about earlier, Y/N? When you said you wouldn’t be here?”

“What I meant, was that you were what kept me going, Liz.” You let out a deep sigh, shifting your gaze to the floor beside the actress. “I was so close, so many times, to calling it quits. You always had a way of pulling me out of it. Sometimes I would get your text in the middle of my meltdown, or a phone call because you just wanted to catch up.” You laugh a watery laugh. “The last time we spoke on the phone, you had called at one of the worst times for me.” Her face shifted to one of confusion and concern.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember the last phone call, not video call, we had?”

“Yeah, you told me in that call that you and she-devil were getting a divorce. I tried to video call you instead but you kept declining it.”

“Yeah. I kept declining it because I was on the edge, Liz. I didn’t want you to see me like that. But you called without knowing something was going on. And hearing your voice, made me picture you. You saved me that night. Otherwise the next time you saw me, it would have been in a casket.” She stood, moving towards you and kneeling before you in your chair. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N? I had no idea…” she trailed off. You wiped your face with the back of your hand, sniffling at the admission. 

“Because Liz, I didn’t want to be a burden. I knew if you found out, you would up and leave what you were doing. I didn’t want to be that friend, that made you leave a movie that you had been so happy about landing.”

“Y/N, I would have left because you mean the world to me. I would have rather left than finding out you killed yourself and never got the chance to k… see you again.” She stumbled over the last bit of the sentence, catching your attention. 

“Lizzie,” you took her hands, spinning the ring on her pointer finger in your hand. “I do need to tell you something.”

“Ok. But only if I can tell you something afterwards.” You shake your head, acknowledging her request. Taking a deep breath, you push back from her, afraid to see the reaction she has to you. Standing, you walk away, closing the door to the office, and pushing the button by your light switch for the blinds to come down. You pace back and forth, before settling on a spot, and turning to look at your best friend. She was now standing behind your desk, with her arms crossed, a concerned look strewn across her features. 

“Lizzie,” you start, your heart beat seemingly pounding louder and louder. “You’re one of the best people in my life, and you quickly became one of the most important to me. No matter what you think, I can’t loose you, as a friend…” you start as she shifts her weight from one leg to another. “But, I need to tell you, that I love you. Not just as my best friend, not just as a person. I really truly love you.” You say, your eyes darting over to gauge her reaction. Her face remained stoic, she was certainly giving you her best Wanda expression. She ran her hand through her hair, taking a deep breath, before looking down. You began to panic, unsure of how she was reacting. 

“Y/N,” she started, her voice smaller than normal. She suddenly surged forwards, wrapping her arms behind your neck. “I love you too. I have, for a while.” She responded, as your face went from sullen and distant to hopeful. She leaned in, ghosting her lips against yours. “But I want you to make the first move.” She smirked, pulling away ever so slightly to look into your eyes. You looked for any sense or indication of being hesitant, finding none. Bringing your hand up to grab her behind her head, you pull her towards you, placing your other hand on the small of her back, and flushing her body against yours. Lowering your head, you press your lips against hers, sealing your confessions in a slow kiss. You both continued, slowly, passionately, before you separated and rested your foreheads against each others. 

“How long, Liz?” You asked, grabbing hold of her hands, playing with her fingers. 

“A month after we met, I knew something was different. But I was also scared of my feelings, scared of my parents, and how everyone may react. But watching you marry Lauren, that was one of the most difficult nights of my life. At that point I thought that I had lost you, and I was never going to forgive myself. I knew that after the night we woke up together in the same bed, I should have told you how I felt. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have driven you to someone else.”

“Liz, you didn’t though. I should have said something sooner. I didn’t want to loose you.”

“You have the chance now, Y/N. Don’t loose me now.” She responds, before you crash your lips to hers in a much more sloppy, heated kiss. You quickly took over, directing all the passion and emotion into the kiss, pushing her smaller frame against your desk. You feel her smile into the kiss, biting your lip before pulling away. “You have no idea how long I have waited for that, Y/N.” 

You smiled, pulling her in for a tight hug, nestling your face into the crook of her neck, her arms wrapped around the back of your neck, fingers laced in your hair. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Liz.”

[bethanydelleman]

Kinda of a downer and you don't have to answer this but your post about how one of the austen heroines could die giving birth made me think of how the heroes would grieve. Do you think they would remarry and such?

I don't mind. It's important to remember that in this era (and sometimes even in Western countries today), people aren't only marrying for love. If Mr. Darcy ended up widowed with a daughter, he might think the "right" and responsible thing to do is to marry so there is a mother in the house to look after the child. And having a mistress of the manor was a real job which was even more important when you had children.

I've written this. (it's sad obviously)

Now we know with Georgiana that Darcy is wealthy enough to basically replace a mother with staff (like Mrs. Annesley), but say an Edward Ferrars with five children might require either a wife or a female relation (who basically gets room and board) to manage the house and help with the children's education.

To give an example from a novel, in Wives & Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell, Molly's mother dies when she's very young. Her father is a country surgeon and not that wealthy. He ends up hiring a governess, both to teach Molly and to keep the house respectable (it's heavily implied he wouldn't have if his wife lived). However, when Molly reaches 17 and he realizes she's going to have suitors, he decides to remarry mostly so she has a chaperone. There is another widower in the novel who has only sons, he doesn't remarry and depends on his female relations to entertain.

As for the Jane Austen heroes...

Colonel Brandon and Captain Wentworth both have the kind of romantic personality that would lead me to think that they wouldn't remarry. They also are probably both wealthy enough to cover the lack of a wife with staff. Maybe Sophia Croft could help too ❤️ (Colonel Brandon has some family mentioned too).

Charles Bingley and Henry Tilney I can easily see remarrying, after an appropriate grieving period.

Edmund Bertram got over Mary, I bet he would remarry after Fanny. Just throw him someone wife-shaped (is my disdain for him coming through?) Also, given Fanny's weak state of health, he may be our most likely candidate. Reginald de Courcy would be like Edmund.

As for Edward Ferrars, he is pretty devoted to Elinor, but it depends when she dies. Life is long and can be lonely. I do see grieving taking him longer than the others.

With Mr. Knightley, he just doesn't really leave Highbury (lack of opportunity) and he lived as a bachelor for like, 38 years? So I feel like he's unlikely to remarry if Emma dies. Also, he can invite John and Isabella to live with him.

And Darcy. Firstly, I can see Lady Catherine pushing very hard for him to marry Anne if she's still alive and unmarried. Secondly, he's such a catch that he will definitely have women trying and he does engage in society (keeps a house in London ect.) so he has opportunity. However, he is picky and it took him 28 years to be so bewitched by a woman... I could see it taking him a while to remarry, but not because of grief but because it takes him a while to meet someone else he likes well enough to marry.

Also, just as a note, Jane Austen has very few remarried people in her novels, contrary to what was statistically likely at the time. Mr. Henry Dashwood and Mr. Fraser (Mary Crawford's friend's husband) are exceptions to the general rule. General Tilney, Sir Walter, and Mr. Elliot are some of the very few widowers and only the last one is trying to remarry. There are several widows and as far as I know none of them remarry.

There is speculation that Lady Lucas is a second wife, since Charlotte is 27 and has a 7ish year old brother (The famous Lucas Wine Boy). However, with about 20 years of fertility, this age spread is certainly possible with a single wife.

[chilly-me-softly]

It's okay until it's not • Ben Chilwell

Sadness brings sad fic. Be aware there's mention of cancer, even if not explicitly the fiction goes around that topic so I'll understand if you don't want to read it. As always though I hope you like it x

She met Ben when her life needed a change, something powerful that would make her feel emotions that she hadn't been allowed to feel until then. He was one of the few people in her new life who knew her story, who had not treated her differently. One of the few, if not the only one, to whom she had shown her medical record. Everything related to one deleterious disease.

Everything was going in the right direction. She had a job, hobbies, a boyfriend, her social life was quite satisfying and her tests were always within the norm. Everything was fine until it wasn't.

She finds herself in his house when she can't pretend anymore, her legs give out and if it weren't for Ben she would also have a nice bruise to remind her of what happened for the next few days. Ben is worried sick, makes her lie on the couch and checks on her every three seconds even though she has been alert since practically the moment afterwards.

She promises him that she'll go and get some tests to make him feel more relaxed, that it's probably just because she hasn't been eating properly in those days. Because the lecture about eating properly is more bearable than admitting that this is not the first time this has happened to her lately. That there could be more to it.

But in the end she goes for a check-up anyway, her doctor immediately books her all the necessary tests once she explains what is happening to her. They are tense days, almost grateful that Ben is out half of them so she can hide behind some texts.

The test results come back not as she expected, her doctor filling her head with data and statistics and treatments and dates that she can't give proper attention to. She takes her time, the doctor talks about timing. She tells Ben  in the end it was just iron deficiency.

"I need to talk to you" Ben understands instantly this is serious, she has been looking at him for hours as if to gather courage to speak but each time she just stands there staring at him. But she has made a decision and it's only fair that he also learns about the situation, to take his due precautions.

"I lied to you. About my test results"

"It's back isn't it?" a tear escapes her control and he tries to wrap his arms around her to comfort her but she stops him, she knows she won't be able to get back on topic otherwise.

"No wait, I need to tell you some things first" he takes her hand, holding it tightly and thus showing her his closeness.

"It's back yes, and before you ask me what the next step will be-- I'm not going to have chemotherapy"

"What do you mean. Is there anything else you can try?" he asks, confusion clear on his face as he tries to take it all in.

"No, there isn't"

"There isn't or you don't want to?" the grip on her hand loses its power, the shock of even asking that question is too much.

"Ben, I don't want to undergo another round of treatment"

"Why?"

"Because it's already taken most of my life away from me and just now when I was getting it back... it's popping up again" her tone is bitter, almost dismissive that this is all happening again.

"No. No (y/n) you can't be serious" while his is incredulous as slowly it all starts to sink in, his wide eyes watching her while shaking his head.

"Ben please, I need you to understand"

"No! How can I?" and then anger, his coping mechanism after he finally understands and can't bring that thought back a second time. "You don't think about me? So I am nothing to you. Our relationship is not that important to you"

"Now you are selfish"

"Selfish, me? You're practically letting yourself die and I'm selfish?"

"You don't know what it's like - she snaps back at him, trying not to hold it against him - You weren't there before, everything I had to go through. The operations, the hospital, chemo, throwing up, all those side effects... it's easy to talk when you don't experience it first hand"

"You could do it. You could beat it again this time" but she is already shaking her head.

"And then what? What would I get out of it?"

"You'd get more time"

"How? And who would give me the assurance that I would be fine? Do you really want to live with the fear that it might come back at any moment exactly as it is now?" but he doesn't answer. "I'm tired Ben"

"So you're just informing me. You're not going to change your mind"

"No" she manages to reply, the lump in her throat signalling the coming of an impending cry that she has been trying to hold back for some time now.

And she doesn't hold back when Ben finally puts some distance between them. He needs time to process it all too, she couldn't hide it from him and knew that if she had left him he wouldn't have let her go so easily without fighting.

-

A couple of days later the doorbell rings echoing in the silence of her house, Ben at the door. His face is pale, his eyes sunken, a sign that he's not sleeping as he should and she's sorry to be the cause of it all because she wouldn't want this for him.

She lets him in, there's a bit of awkwardness between the two of them and there hadn't been on their first dates either. She doesn't want to assume his being there is to stay, she waits for him to speak but it's hard to put words in order.

"I've thought about it and I want to be there for you. If that's really your decision, I don't want to waste the remaining time arguing" she hugs him tightly reveling in his scent and his arms holding her tightly.

"That's what I want" she murmurs into the hug and he holds her even tighter to him, even though it hurts to hear that.

Over the next few months they try to act like they don't know about it, it's there in the corner of their heads ready to pop up again at any moment but they do everything they can to keep it from happening. They make it at parties as Ben watches her have fun and joins in, the smile on her lips the thing that makes him feel good the most. They make it when she wears his shirt and cheers for him, clumsily imitating in the dim light of their room an action of the game completely aroused and enraptured by the story, making him laugh until his stomach hurts.

He fails when he enters her house and finds her passed out on the kitchen floor.

"No no no no no (y/n) don't do this to me don't do this to me"

She knew that without treatment sooner or later the time would come when she would struggle more and more to recover. She fooled herself it would come as late as possible but with each passing day she realised something was changing, tiredness had started to take over her life now more times she dozed than she smiled.

"Hey" she quickly realised she's in a hospital bed. And she had always told him not to call for help, she knew if she went into that building she would hardly get out.

"You gave me quite a scare"

"I'm sorry" but she certainly can't scold him at that moment, when with just one look you can tell how scared he is. He is handsome though, she can't help but look at him and study him. "I had a dream about you"

"Yeah? What about it?"

"You'll be fine" it only takes a moment for his eyes to fill with tears.

[tiredassmage]

You mentioned slugging Darmas (with enthusiasm!) on Tyr's playthrough as a post-Imp smuggler. Given that Darmas was part of Imperial Intelligence like Tyr, how did that whole dynamic between Tyr, the smuggler he worked for, and Darmas work?

This is DELICIOUS, thank you so, so much for finally giving me the nudge to go off about this on main, lol.

This is truly part of what made the Imperial Agent to Smuggler pipeline hit me like a speeding semi-truck on the interstate highway, for real. It was an incredibly cathartic experience, lol.

I'm still rotating an idea or two or three about the exact specifics because each of them have their own merits, but the universal beat is Cee lets Tyr make the choice here; Darmas and Dodonna used them both, ultimately, but she gets that it's far more personal for Tyr given his history with Intelligence.

(Also, I'd like to shake Bioware by the shoulders. Give me a consistent timeline on Intelligence challenge! Its in the process of being cut at the knees according to the Agent's trip to Corellia!!! But that's... for another time, lol).

There'd definitely be something very crunchy about keeping a lid on Tyr's history as an ex-Cipher for Darmas to let the cat out of the bag as a part of the bit to throw the Smuggler off, but since I've started to develop Cee as his Captain for want of a consistent trail of events to follow and they ultimately end up catching feelings for each other... and also partially because Dorne's deal with her defection during her companion quest series is also one of my favorites, I've been leaning towards it coming up beforehand - though, again, I haven't quite hammered out specifically how or when.

Being manipulated and sort of falling into things by circumstance is something Cee and him ultimately share experience in, so it's kind of important to me and to them that they're able to share that on their terms - or as much of their own terms as possible. It's still more by accident and situationally that his history comes up at all - I imagine its not even something the SIS readily passes around as part of operational security, but as of the moment, I imagine Tyr just figures it's easier (and better) to explain it himself rather than let her try to piece it together from whatever opinionated tales begin to unravel it in the first place. (She'd figure it out either way and he'd prefer someone he cares about not feel lied to, y'know?)

He comes to respect Cee a great deal rather quickly because she's trying her best to hold her own ground in the midst of... everything she's kinda stumbled into from the reputation chasing down Nok Drayen's treasure to a deal with the Republic, so it's quite important to him that he maintains open communication with her.

But, yes, Darmas, whether he recognizes the ex-Cipher or not, is an incredibly personal encounter for Tyr. While he's not Cipher Nine in this particular tale, his reasons for leaving Imperial Intelligence and the Empire behind are largely consistent with those he chooses as Nine: he's not interested in being a statistic, the battered instrument and disposable cog in some Sith's machinery. And beneath under all of that calculation, beneath the facade of realism tempered by an agent's experience and training, ideals are important to Tyr and they always have been, even if he hasn't exactly realized it. To find out he traded the Empire for the Republic (that was meant to be an improvement on the ideals front) and still fell into those trappings, that he was so close to the problem and didn't even see any warning signs, that this threatened the very real unexpected found family and belonging he found in Cee and the crew... It's a lot. And he knows Darmas's type too well to trust that the snake wouldn't slip away given half the chance.

I imagine he does take a swing first, emotions getting the better of him for a moment, at least, before he deferred to Cee's judgement. She was the one they really sent after the pair, after all. But, in the end, Cee left the decision up to him, so Darmas got no deals that day. xD Just a very angry swinging SIS operative and ultimately a blaster bolt to that pretty face of his.

For Cee's part, she was never particularly interested in Darmas's charms from the beginning, though I imagine she trusted him enough as an ally by the time this all comes out. Her main wound in all of this is having found out the opportunity to genuinely work for the greater good for once was all an orchestration to actually serve the enemy. In broad strokes, Cee ended up smuggling in an attempt to pay off inherited debts from her father, so very little of being a starship captain smuggling goods had ever been her choice, let alone her ideal choice. She's not particularly pleased that her wariness of the offer to privateer in the first place was perhaps not entirely misplaced given the company, but she doesn't hesitate to take the offer again from Sumalee. She's far more confident in the authenticity of the arrangement and its truly what she'd generally prefer to put her acquired talents to use for.

Truly though. This gave being able to clock Saresh a run for credits as far as satisfying decisions, lol! It's very important to me and my cause (this au) xD

[unknowncountrygirl]

Curse Breaker’s Gambit Ch.2

The weather outside was rubbish, and he found himself throwing a pity party in the great hall, his chess board set up in from of him.

A hand on his shoulder startled him but then he heard-

“Murphy?” Iris called his name, in such a sweet tone he felt his shoulders relax. She sat down across from him, “are you playing wizard chess... By yourself?” She asked him. His heart nearly sung her a song when he laid eyes on her. She looked well rested, and was wearing a dress. It was silly, but he knew that recently Iris had been sliding by and letting her feminine side hide under baggy clothing and dark colors. It was a olive green color, but it was better then the sweaters and sweat pants she had been in. She looked like she was blooming again and he felt ease overwhelm him.

“I'm running through some potential new strategies in my head. Afraid to say I've been doing that a lot lately. You've been busy and I haven't had a worthy opponent to play against, Iris.” He told her and she chuckled, picking up and moving a pawn. He felt himself smile as he moved his first piece.

“I've been the one in a glum mood, but now it seems like it's your turn. You're not acting like the fast talking, statistic slinging guy I know.” Pawn to D3.

“Well, now that you mention it... I am feeling 36.8% more glum than usual.” He told her honestly, moving his pawn to D6.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked him honestly, and he rested his head on the back of his hand, looking at her fondly.

“If there is one thing that always makes me feel better, it is talking.”

“Then tell me what's on your mind.”

“Well, I went into Diagon Alley, I had to replace my Transfiguration book.”

“Did Kneil get another one?” She asked laughing.

“Indeed he did,” he moved his knight to counter her rook. “Well, Flourish and Blotts is hosting a chess tournament.”

“That's sounds perfect! Why aren't you happy?”

“I want to sign up for the tournament, but I can't. It requires a team of people, not just one person.”

“That's it?” Iris asked, catching him off guard.

“That's it? This is a big deal, a huge deal! This isn't some old men sitting in the park kind of players! Celine Castillion is the top-ranked player in the Wizarding World and she will be there! She's the number one student player in the world! The world! They call her the 'Matagot of Wizard Chess', because she's such a beast when she competes!” While he couldn't read her thoughts, he almost swore he saw Iris's eyes grow dark at the infatuation he showed towards this other girl.

“I see.” She stamped her queen down on the board a little roughly. “Check.”

“I've been following her rise to stardom for years, and I'd give anything to see her play.”

“Then you should play.”

“I would if I could, but it would take a team of four people.”

“You and me, that's two, we're halfway there.” Iris told him as he quickly ducked out of her check. “We an form a chess team to represent Hogwarts.”

“Iris, that's brilliant! You would do that for me!”

“Of course.”

“Well, forming a top notch chess team will be more difficult than a Seeker trying to catch a Snitch in their sleeve! It's really sweet, but I know you have a lot going on right now, why go to such great lengths to help me, Iris?”

“I want to spend time with you.” His heart nearly soared when she told him that. “Life has been busy, and I think the distraction would be good. Plus, I can tell that this chess tournament is something really important to you.” She told him with a smile that seemed to light up her face. “This should be some quality bonding time together. The last time we spent one on one time together was... Well, depressing.”

He nodded, remembering it solemnly.

Rowans funeral had happened, and he had watched Iris stand at the front of the congregation of students, lacking any of her usual light. When it was over, the crowd disbursed into silence, heading back to their respective houses. He had tried to find Iris amid the forest of legs and students but lost her. Once in the Gryffindor tower, he was able to ask around and found out that she had went to meet with a few of the Professor's and Dumbledore. So he parked his wheelchair in front of the fire and waited.

He hand't cared how long he had to wait, someone was going to be there for Iris when she returned. He had watched Iris over the years bear the burden for everyone in her life, weather it had to do with the cursed Vaults, or Quidditch, and even getting pulled into matters that had nothing to do with her. Iris was there, she was the one everyone turned to when they needed help or a problem solved. It was her turn to have someone be there for her.

It was well past curfew when Iris finally stumbled through the Fat Lady portrait. Because it was so quiet, he could hear her quiet sobbing as she tried to catch her breath. He turned in his chair and saw her close the door behind her.

“Iris?” Watching her visibly jump because she thought everyone would be in bed made him feel worse about the whole situation. Everything about her face looked so ill fitting for her, everything was swollen, her eyes, her cheeks, even her lips. Her light blue eyes were bloodshot and had dark rings under them, making them appear sunken and sickly. He could see her fumbling with words but eventually just give up as her bottom lip began to quiver. He quickly rolled over towards her and when he was close, her legs gave out beneath her and she just toppled into his lap and began to wail. She was draped over his legs and gripped onto the bottom of his shirt and one of his pant-legs to keep herself fro falling completely to the floor.

Murphy blinked back his own tears, her grief broke his heart. He cradled the back of her head in his hand, while the other rubbed along her shoulder. She eventually tilted her head up and the two of them locked eyes, her chest heaved from gasping for air and she actually tried to speak.

“Murphy, I...”

“Shh. You don't need to explain anything to me or apologize for anything. I'm here, and this is the only place I want to be right now.” He assured her. There was relief across her face and she was able to push herself up enough to wrap her arms around his neck and shoulders. He pulled her legs up over the arm of his chair, and cradled her like a parent comforting their child.

“Well, I'm honored you want to spend what little free time you have with me.” He told her backing her King into a corner. “I'm happy o report that the feeling is 100.1% mutual. Let the McNully-Rosewood adventure commence. Check.”

“Where shall we begin, Murphy?”

“We have a lot of work to do before we'll be ready to take on Celine Castillion and her team at the tournament. Our first step though will be getting a Professor's permission.”

“Oh, I know! Professor McGonagall will be perfect! I know she loves wizard chess, because I played it with her during the Teacher Appreciation Celebration.”

“Yes!” He agreed excitedly. “McGonagall is a brilliant strategist and a wizard chess master in her own right, she'll be perfect!” He pounded his hands on the table, and watched as a twinkle returned to Iris's eyes.

“Then let's pay her a visit, and see if she'll give us permission to form a team!”

“Right now?”

“Right now!” Iris stood up and flicked her King over. “You have me in a check mate anyway.” She winked. The pair quickly packed up his chess set and headed out to the Transfiguration classroom.

[gorlamiusw]

Drop in the Ocean

drop in the ocean

“What happens when you throw a stone into water? Make a wish in a well? Have a wash in the sink? What are the stories and statistics that come flooding out the tap? Water shapes our landscapes; enters, leaves and fills our bodies; connects us all. But how much do we need? And where is it all coming from?”. This is Jess Allen’s message to the world.

During some of our lectures we looked into different practitioners of performance and ecology and one of them stood out to me with their unique techniques and mindset towards ecology in performance. Jess Allen brings awareness to audiences through walking in circles around a point but get larger as she goes so that it looks like a ripple in water when a stone is thrown to symbolise our impact on water. She does this whilst carrying a yoke and buckets over her shoulders, one filled with water and the other with stones. As Jess goes on her adventure she will stop and talk to people and ask them to pick up one of the stones, make a wish and throw it in the bucket of water.

Jess Allen expresses the connection of water and how it brings us closer to one another but also reveals more about ourselves. She mentions how this can remind us of how we use water, why we need it and why it is so important. Jess talks about our feelings and senses and that we should reconnect with water to make every day feel more extraordinary. When Jess had finished with her walks she would have a gallery of all her work set up for people to see and experience with maps, stones set out to picture her journey, bags of water containing items found on her journey and many more items to show humanities connection to water.

Jess is a performance artist from Aberystwyth, she mainly works as an eco-activist with her walking art in rural landscapes but she also has a PhD in biology and a PhD in contemporary performance. Jess also trained as a dancer and worked as a landscape and conservation officer.

I personally felt a connection between Jess and our Polar Bears piece as they both strive to bring audiences closer to their message in unique ways and instead of just performing, they actually interact with audiences which allows that stronger bond to be made and makes our message more clear. I also was inspired by Jess because of her social media and constant uploading of beautiful pictures and videos of her adventures in nature and meeting strangers to include in her project. This inspired this blog and how I needed to show audiences not just in person but over social media the work that we are doing and the message we want to spread about climate change. She has inspired us how small ripples can make such a large impact on the bigger picture and those around us and that we can cause more people to create ripples in the water, spreading our hope of a better future.

[magnoliamentions]

WHY TOM BRADY WILL NEVER BE THE GOAT

Disclaimer: I do not have first-hand information on Tom Brady. I don’t read articles about him or watch him play very often (though I did enjoy seeing Dak Prescott and the Cowboys end his year.) This is simply an opinion piece, nothing more. I am only an observer.

NFL commentators always refer to Tom Brady as the GOAT. It’s almost like he pays them every time they mention his name. But what does that mean? What does someone need to do to be the GOAT?

Let’s look at what I think a GOAT should be. Yes, of course the GOAT should be the best in his/her field. Yet, is that really all it means? I must answer that question with a NO! The GOAT should be someone people want their children to emulate as much as possible. S/He should be an example on and off their “stage,” whether a football field or movie screen or an opera or a class room or hospital - whatever that stage may be.

Now let’s look at Tom Brady. Yes, Tom Brady has multiple Super Bowl rings. I think that’s an incredible accomplishment. Many NFL players end their careers never even getting close to playing in a Super Bowl. Yet, controversy has followed him all the way there. There have been numerous accusations of cheating to win. Whether or not Tom Brady cheated I s not my place to say. I have no idea. I didn’t follow him while he was with the Patriots, and I don’t follow him in Tampa Bay. What I do know is that questions have been raised about Tom Brady’s integrity and how far he will go to win. Who wants their children carrying that pack of worms around with them the rest of their lives? I certainly don’t.

Next, let’s look at his behavior. If he doesn’t do well, he throws a fit! I’ve seen him spewing profanity, as many players do, and throwing expensive electronics to the ground because he was upset. He throws his helmet or whatever. I cannot count how many Tom Brady temper tantrums I’ve witnessed. That is certainly a behavior I do not want my children to emulate.

Finally, let’s look at Tom Brady’s decision to continue playing after he announced his retirement. His wife made no secret for years that she was ready for him to retire. She supported him and took care of the household while he played. She was ready to get back to her career, which, from what I understand, Tom Brady agreed to after last season. As in every marriage, there is always more going on than people on the outside can see. Nonetheless, Tom Brady is now and will forever be known as the one who very blatantly chose football over family. I cannot even begin to imagine how much that would hurt. Again, I could be wrong about this, but perception often becomes truth. Family should be the most important part of people’s lives. We already have so many children being raised in broken homes, and Tom Brady just made two more children statistics.

Tom Brady might be the nicest guy a person could meet. I highly doubt it, but he could be. Nice or not, his perceived egomaniacal tendencies result in controversy, temper tantrums, and a serious need to reassess what is really important in life. No, Tom Brady cannot be the GOAT. He will never be “the greatest to play the game,” regardless of what NFL commentators want us to believe. No number of championship rings or records or years playing will change his character. Ability, integrity, and character should never be questioned in someone referred to as the “GOAT.”

[ashesandhackles]

The Hogwarts Express scene in Prince's Tale: A Sirius and Snape analysis

I really, really enjoy Sirius and Snape as characters and their respective narrative functions in story. But what gets me most about them is how much Rowling hints about their backgrounds and so much of it makes sense with regard to who they are as adults. So I am going to be breaking down a very small scene from Prince Tale and getting into long winded hypothesis about their respective childhoods.

So, let's start with Snape. The scene begins with Snape rushing to find Lily, already in his Hogwarts clothes. Harry notes he must have been eager to get out of his clothes - ones that look like he borrowed from his mother, as Petunia spitefully pointed out. This has always been a very interesting detail to me - first off, it indicates how poor Snape's family is. Second, this indicates his tiny rebellion from his father - he refuses to wear clothes of the abusive man, and prefers his mother's. I admit, I am partial to the reading that Snape refuses to associate with his father in tiny ways, rather than Tobias refusing to hand his son clothes.

(I have seen readings which say that it is also a sign of neglect - perhaps his parents bought clothes that simply don't fit him, but I am more inclined to think it's a hand me down, simply because Harry identifies so strongly with it. Because Harry knows what it is like to wear a hand me down that don't quite fit, that are too big for you, or the ones that make you look ridiculous.)

Lily and Petunia's relationship is fraught with Petunia's jealousy. And young Lily is upset over it when Snape meets her. "I am not talking to you. Tuney hates me" she tells him. "Because we saw the letter from Dumbledore". Young Lily shows signs of being extremely emotionally reactive and this scene is one of them. It's easier for her to deal with Petunia's rejection of her by telling Snape she doesn't want to talk to him. It's a childish displacement of her hurt over her sister's rejection. (I am genuinely baffled by interpretations that Lily and Hermione are similar. Hermione is very cognitive person, Lily, as we have been shown repeatedly in memories, is not).

Snape, however, with his bad history with Petunia and his inability/ poor social skills to understand why this matters to her, goes: "So what?"

Lily, who throws him a look of deep dislike, says "So she's my sister". This seed is important because this is what develops into "he doesn't get me" feeling she later displays in her teenage scenes with him. Interestingly, most of Lily's personal relationships have deeply interwined love and dislike - Petunia (whose rejection bothers her but she cheerfully informs Sirius that Harry nearly broke a vase her sister sent - which means there is resentment on her end too), James - who she was attracted to even before 7th year but also disliked at one point, and Snape - again, a contentious friendship filled with love and distance.

"She's only a -" we dont get to hear what Snape intended to say. And given his own acrimony with Petunia, it could be anything. However, I read it as "She's only a Muggle" because it ties into his feelings about his father. Snape, who is proud of being half a Prince, emphasizing his magical lineage from his mother's side, his refuge in a violent, neglectful home. (Barty Crouch Jr and Snape with their disappointing fathers - I imagine Voldemort is supremely attractive leader to people with broken homes like this)

Snape, by all accounts, shows a disorganised attachment style. His caregiver, his mother - and perhaps the only parent he seems to have regard for, is too preoccupied by her own abuse to be there for her son - we see this in glimpses Harry sees in OOTP: " woman cowering" where a man shouts at her, and a young, neglected Snape cries in the corner. Children born in homes like this have trouble regulating their emotions, simultaneously displaying tendencies to aggressively lash out or show disassociative symptoms. Both of which Snape displays. Statistically, this is also seen more in low income households where economic instability and resulting domestic instability creates an unsafe environment for the kids to safely form ideas of their identity, or express emotions in healthy ways, modelling instead out of behaviour seen at home.

Then, Snape reminds her that they are going to Hogwarts. He is already in his Hogwarts clothes - now, Snape gets to be the impressive figure. The one who told her about magic, who theorised about how Muggles get letters from magical people, the one who told her about Dementors and Azkaban. He has already left behind the Spinner's End version of him, he wants to bigger than that, and is keen to be in place of magical learning and to join Slytherin. Essentially, he shows signs of unstable identity, insecurity - all prime for grooming into a cult.

And here comes along James Potter, who looks around at the mention of Slytherin. James's comment uses Snape's line and directs it to Sirius instead and it becomes a conversation between them, as a way to bond more with a fellow "rowdy boy" Sirius. Effectively ignoring the other two.

Sirius as we see here, "does not smile" when James talks about Slytherin. He essentially says something that can be construed as a way to nip that conversation in bud: "My whole family has been in. Slytherin". This suggests to me that there is some loyalty to his family there and his disillusionment with them isn't entirely fixed yet. After all, Sirius's intense loyalty to his friends, more specifically James, did not come out of thin air. It is reasonable to suggest that he felt some loyalty to his family at some point and the intensity with which he regards his friends is a reaction to burned off and being a "displaced person without a family" as Rowling put it.

Interestingly, while his reaction to his mother and Bellatrix are obviously sore spots, his response to Regulus is comparatively quite soft. ("Stupid, idiot" - something he calls James later on in the same book, OOTP). I imagine Sirius has quite complicated feelings about his brother and he is capable of nuance (when the person isn't Snape, where his dislike seems to be borne of an intense projection): "The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters". As someone who is grown up among them, Sirius would understand that.

His framing of Regulus's need to please his parents also further highlights what exactly is the source of disillusionment. He calls Regulus "soft enough to believe them" - which means he is crediting his own intelligence to see through his parents bigoted world view. Clearly, bigotry is not something the Blacks explained in a way that Sirius, eldest of their male line and their heir, bought it. It also probably didn't help the Blacks case that Grimmauld Place is in a Muggle neighborhood and that their eldest son is a bit of a wild boy with interest in pushing boundaries. His intellectual disconnect leads to the righteous rage he later feels but it began there. (Boy, it must suck to discover that everything you have been taught to value in the world and in yourself as the heir is essentially rubbish). Since his differences with his family began with seeds of intellectual disconnect rather than on intense empathy with downtrodden, it makes him, as a pureblooded privileged boy, unable to truly understand Lupin's fears regarding his lycanthropy. Hence, the Werewolf prank (I am not getting to the Snape bit, just the Lupin bit). To James' credit, he does understand what that means for Lupin and saves all three of them from different set of consequences.

Anyway, back to the scene. James, who has made an ass of himself in front of his new friend, who he was getting along with fine until now, then goes "Blimey, I thought you seemed alright". (Btw, I find James wildly large ego kind of hilarious here, especially in light of Snape's comment about him to Sirius in OOTP: "You will know he is so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him"). Sirius, who I believe has been raised like "royalty" as Blacks would, has good enough social skills to defuse a situation. He grins and says: "Maybe I will break the tradition".

This line is an indication of Sirius's desire for independence, an identity seperate from his family. The use of the word "tradition" is interesting. It sounds like Sirius is expected to behave in a certain way, the heir of Black family whose parents thought being a Black "made you practically royal". Adult Sirius is contemptuous of this, or their "valuable contribution to Ministry" which means they just gave gold - it tells me that any and all conditions put on him by his family were to fulfill tradition that is either worthless or holds no meaning in his eyes. The root of the emotional abuse Sirius suffers from his family is this - realising his parents love for him is conditional on him being a certain way. (In fact, you can read Regulus desire to emphasise his connection to the family as a reaction to what he sees with Sirius - Sirius does not behave, Mum and Dad don't love him). As a child with unconscious knowledge of lack of love, Sirius then acts out, they react, rinse and repeat "until he has had enough". Sirius chafes against boundaries well into adulthood and doesn't react well to people enforcing it on him, even if it is out of love for him. Cue the fire scene with Harry where he behaves as if Harry is rejecting him instead of protecting him.

Sirius asks James about where he wants to go, and Snape, who is incensed about James being insulting about a House he put stock in, which he made part of new identity (so that he is no longer that Snape boy from Spinner's End) and was in general trying to be impressive about in front of Lily, "makes a disparaging noise" once James talks of Gryffindor. Snape's response to James' : "Got a problem with that?" is interesting. He says: "If you'd rather be brawny, rather than brainy-"

This is an important value for Snape. He knows he is clever and values it. He spends his spare time inventing hexes, making great shortcuts to Potions. He has genuine thirst for learning and he hones it. In SWM, we see that he has written far more longer answers than anyone else, he is poring over his paper after exams. He even mocks Hermione's lack of inventive answers: "Answer copied word to word from the textbook, but correct in essentials". He values originality. It may be me stretching this, but I am partial to the reading: this is his way of rejecting his father once again, who is implied to be a violent man. (in other words, someone who is hypermasculine - "brawny". In fact, Snape's rejection of hypermasculinity is a huge post on it's own - Potions (brewing, cauldrons - coded as feminine arts), the doe Patronus, his proficiency in Occlumency and Legliemency (intuitive mind arts, again seen archetypically feminine) etc).

"Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you are neither?" - Sirius is quick with emotionally cutting insults. Snape hasn't even finished his sentence, but Sirius is already on his case. Which suggests growing up in a household with sharp tongues. It's a fair assumption, given Mrs Black's half mad portrait. It also tallies with Sirius's talking about his mother: "My mother didn't have a heart Kreacher, she kept herself alive out of pure spite" . The wounds are fresh enough on this. (Another interesting way Snape and Sirius act as inverse mirrors - Snape rejects his father, Sirius rejects his mother. Sirius acts as proxy for James for Harry while Snape takes on Lily's role of protecting him). However, you know who else is spiteful? Sirius.

While James is the physical bully (the tripping Snape, doing most of the bullying in SWM), Sirius attacks emotionally. ( Sample the one about Snape's appearance - "I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment, there will be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word" or even the carelessly vicious- "Put that away, before Wormtail wets himself in excitement"). Curiously, with all that talk of how his mother being spiteful, it's her room he spends time in when he is depressed. (Again, in inverse mirror way, we can talk of how Snape looks for a father figure in Dumbledore - craves his validation and is proud of Dumbledore's trust in him). We could argue it's also because Buckbeak is there, and perhaps it's the largest room in the house, but it's very telling that's where Sirius spends time when he is "in a fit of sullens". Sirius's sense of abandonment from his family, makes him look for family connections with friends - a trait he shares with Harry. Interestingly, the first time he glimpses Harry in Privet Drive, Harry is also running away from home - just like he did. Anyway, I could go on.

[manie-sans-delire-x]

My thoughts/analysis of We Need to talk about Kevin

From abnormal psych class paper:

The character I chose to analyze and diagnose is Kevin Khatchadourian from the 2011 film, We Need to Talk about Kevin. Brilliantly depicted by star Ezra Miller and various other child actors, Kevin is an angry, emotionally detached boy who struggles in his complex relationship with his mother. We see the unhealthy relationship develop between the two through-out the film as Kevin grows from a baby to a young man, ending in tragedy as Kevin achieves his ultimate revenge against his mother by massacring the rest of their family as well as several classmates in a school shooting.  

After carefully noting Kevin’s behavior and the way he and his mother Eva interact when he is a young child, I have decided to diagnose Kevin with reactive attachment disorder (RAD). The diagnostic criteria from the current Diagnostic and Statistical manual (DSM-5) for RAD reads as follows: 

A. A consistent pattern of inhibited, emotionally withdrawn behavior toward adult caregivers, manifested by both of the following: 

1. The child rarely or minimally seeks comfort when distressed. 

2. The child rarely or minimally responds to comfort when distressed. 

B. A persistent social or emotional disturbance characterized by at least two of the following: 

Minimal social and emotional responsiveness to others 

Limited positive affect 

Episodes of unexplained irritability, sadness, or fearfulness that are evident even during nonthreatening interactions with adult caregivers. 

C. The child has experienced a pattern of extremes of insufficient care as evidenced by at least one of the following: 

Social neglect or deprivation in the form of persistent lack of having basic emotional needs for comfort, stimulation, and affection met by caring adults 

Repeated changes of primary caregivers that limit opportunities to form stable attachments (e.g., frequent changes in foster care) 

Rearing in unusual settings that severely limit opportunities to form selective attachments (e.g., institutions with high child to caregiver ratios) 

D. The care in Criterion C is presumed to be responsible for the disturbed behavior in Criterion A (e.g., the disturbances in Criterion A began following the lack of adequate care in Criterion C). 

E. The criteria are not met for autism spectrum disorder. 

F. The disturbance is evident before age 5 years. 

G. The child has a developmental age of at least nine months. 

Specify if Persistent: The disorder has been present for more than 12 months. 

Specify current severity: Reactive Attachment Disorder is specified as severe when a child exhibits all symptoms of the disorder, with each symptom manifesting at relatively high levels. 

Kevin displays behavior that meets both criteria A and B. As a baby he cried constantly, reportedly even when held, showing an inability or unwillingness to be soothed. As a toddler he shows defiance, disinterest in social interaction, and a refusal to engage in play, such as when his mother is attempting to play with a ball with him and he refuses to roll the ball back or respond in any way, instead staring at her with a sullen expression. Kevin also refuses his mother’s pleas to say the word “Mommy”. As a slightly older child, Kevin continues to act defiantly and shows anger, ripping up the paper when his mother attempts to school him, immediately soiling his newly changed diapers on purpose, throwing food against the wall and onto tables, breaking his crayons, making nonsensical noises to irritate his mother, and destroying his mother’s artfully decorated room. When he is taken to the doctor to be examined, he shows no expression, does not speak, and stiffens his body. When his baby sister is born, he purposefully sprinkles water onto the newborn, causing her to cry. It should be noted however that in one instance Kevin seems to relax his cold exterior and accept comfort from his mother, shown by the scene in which he falls ill and cuddles with his mother while she reads him a story. He even apologizes for her having to clean up his throw-up. Unfortunately, as soon as he is feeling well again he is back to being rude and rejecting any attempt of hers to take care of him, refusing her help to change his clothes.  

As for criteria C, although Kevin has not experienced extreme abuse or neglect, I believe Kevin suffered from a traumatic birth as it was mentioned that his mother was resisting. His mother Eva did not desire a child, especially not one as difficult as Kevin, so she emotionally neglects him and is cold to him. Eva makes it very clear to him that he is unwanted, telling him straight to his face that she was happy before she gave birth to him and not correcting him when Kevin mentions that Eva does not like him. In one instance, she is accidentally too rough with him and breaks his arm, which Kevin later refers to as being the most honest thing she ever did. Kevin also meets the criteria of D through G, and his symptoms are persistent. I would say Kevin has moderate to severe symptoms as he does exhibit all listed symptoms quite regularly.  

I believe Kevin’s psychological problems may also have developed into conduct disorder (CD) as an adolescent and then antisocial personality disorder (ASPD) or psychopathy in adulthood, especially after taking into consideration the mutilation of his sister’s eye and the killing of his sister’s guinea pig, his father, his sister, and several classmates. He shows no guilt or empathy, appears to have shallow emotions besides anger, and shows no evidence of having affection or emotional bonds to anyone. He is also very manipulative; putting on a fake act of normalcy for his father, turning his parents against each other, and navigating the legal system to get his best outcome. However, I know that children with RAD can also be violent and if not treated, behave in a way very similar to conduct disorder in adolescence and ASPD or psychopathy in adulthood. The main reason I chose to focus on RAD over CD or ASPD is because I believe the root of Kevin’s problem is immense pain at being rejected and unloved as a child and that he harbors a deep desire to have that connection but is unable to accept affection.  He is so focused on and consumed by his anger towards his mother, while someone with true psychopathy may be more detached and indifferent. I also leaned more towards RAD given that he showed symptoms from such a young age and did not seem to have any problems outside of his issues with his mother, such as acting out in school or engaging in petty, impulsive crime. I do wish that the film showed more of his interaction with his peers. Lastly, I felt RAD was a more accurate choice because of the subtle signs of it that are associated more with RAD than CD, such as stiffening his body when others try to hug him, making nonsensical sounds, and not making eye contact as an infant, although that may not have been intentionally put in the film. Either way, his parents certainly needed to talk to professionals about Kevin when he was a child. Had they done so, perhaps they could have prevented the tragedy of both his life and the pain he inflicted on others.  

Response to tumblr ask:

I agree! I would have loved to see how he interacts at school, what he does when he’s alone and has spare time, and more of his childhood.

I think he had multiple reasons:

1- To make his mother suffer since he obviously has a lot of anger and resentment towards her

2- Because he doesn’t feel much positive emotion and gave up on ever feeling pleasure or enjoyment from regular life. Normal life is incredibly boring for him. He wanted to DO something- real, meaningful, make something happen. He wanted to Live. I very much relate.

3- He enjoys the attention he gets from it.

We talked about this in my forensic psych club- whether we should give interviews and all this attention to violent criminals. Our society is fascinated by them to the point where we make movies and books. People sell and collect memorabilia. They have fan-girls writing love letters and showing up to their court sessions, even fighting each other over them. It’s pretty crazy. But on the other hand, it’s important that we study them. Or is it? There’s a debate about everything.

4- His philosophy and world view. 

He is very nihilistic, he doesn’t believe life “means” anything and right/wrong doesn’t exist/is just a matter of opinion or viewpoint. His actions don’t really matter either, nothing does. I used to think exactly like he did when I was a teen, and I still do in a way.

As for your last question, it’s easy to forget one way of thinking when you’re in another. It’s hard to remember how one state was when you’re in a different one. Also, as shitty as outside life can be, life in prison is even shittier. Makes you appreciate the ability of choice and being able to do things, even just to walk around outside or buy an icecream cone. He was also only 15 at the time of the crime, and in the last scene he’s 18. A lot of chemical changes and neural development happens in that time. He matured- his way of thinking about himself, the world, and the others around him changed.

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

Someone made an incredible animation of the scene in hidden inventory where Gojo gets screamed at by teen girls fawning over him, and it's beautiful ✨

https://youtu.be/5l9_O51-YYs

Also, it highlights my previous point that when Gojo's confronted by women flirting with him, he doesn't really do... Anything. He's just chill about it. And the little °^° face he makes and the little confused "hm?" from the manga panel in the beginning could indicate that Gojo might not be hit on by girls as often as we think- Jujutsu sorcerers are busy and have even their time off interrupted on the regular. Other than being mildly amused, we don't see Gojo actively bask or pursue attention from women (other than Utahime ofc, which could be because she's as straight-laced as Nanami).

The little content smile he gives at the end basically says it all: Gojo enjoys the attention, but most likely isn't interested in pursuing anything more than that, including sexual relations (with more reasons from my previous posts).

I could see Gojo being the type to allow himself to appreciate just a bit of affection from random women he encounters on missions and then casually walking off with a lazy wave of his hand- just like he did with Miwa.

The man's on a mission (literally) with the goal to change the world. Virgin Gojo is very possible seeing how unaffected he is by women throwing themselves at him- or at least, he allows himself a moment to enjoy the attention but is quick to dismiss the thought from his mind to focus on his duty.

Honestly, non virgin Gojo is still possible, but unless we see Gojo actually show interest or actively flirt with someone (which seems unlikely), we may never know. To me, analyzing Gojo with his interactions with other characters (not his antics) makes me think it's more likely Gojo is a virgin than not, simply bc the argument for Gojo being a non virgin is his looks and immaturity (or his act of immaturity, we know Gojo thinks in a much more complex way than he lets on) which I'd argue is not an accurate description of his character, because that's only a part of it, and is in fact only what Gojo shows on the surface. And there's plenty of reasons why his lifestyle would make such getaways difficult. Also, Gojo's lack of enthusiasm for it. Gojo allows girls to fawn over him, but he hardly stokes the fire more than just taking off his glasses when they asked him to.

If Gojo was more like Osamu Dazai from Bungou Stray Dogs who flirts with every women he sees, I would have an easier time believing he would not be a virgin, but his lifestyle, behavior, and even his Six Eyes and his goal makes me think he wouldn't choose to constantly go on small getaways like that. Personally, I'd say Gojo spends more of his time plotting and maximizing his efforts on recreating Jujutsu Society.

Really, when Gege said he couldn't see Gojo being faithful to a woman could be because he's already committed to his job. Not because he's out womanizing, but even because the type of woman he'd commit to is so rare. And even if he did find a woman he'd commit to, being the ENTP he is means he's incapable of immediately recognizing and acting on his emotions- not because he doesn't have them, but because they're not really his forté. He'd rather rationalize his behavior than attempt to understand his own feelings. It'll take time and patience, but Gojo committing is still a possibility.

Honestly, I'd like to hear why people would think Gojo's a cheater/womanizer to begin with? Besides him teasing Utahime, Gojo's been pretty respectful to Shoko and Mei Mei. He even complimented and recognized Mei Mei's strength as a sorcerer. He didn't flirt once with the hoard of girls fawning over him. In fact, he was quick to focus on his mission despite the attention. I don't think Gojo's ever even teased Shoko about anything (other than commenting on her terrible way of explaining things, which is more of a fact than teasing). Though, correct me if I'm wrong.

Also, I haven't mentioned Riko much in previous posts and idrk why lol. But while Gojo is dominated by logical thinking, he's emotionally inept enough to notice Riko's mood. He may seem cold in how he comforted her by saying he'd leave her behind, but it's more of his ENTP personality that has him expressing his emotions in a more objective manner- even if it hurts, it's the truth, and that's fine isn't it? (Typical ENTP way of thinking).

Also slight tangent I read that one long meta about Gojo's interaction with Riko someone linked, and I'm completely appalled that they would think Gojo is only "pretending" to have emotions, "mimicking" them even! That he's incapable of truly feeling when in fact it's inherently characteristic of any ENTP to express themselves in a way that, to others, would be considered "cold" and unempathetic. It just goes to show just how misunderstood ENTPs are. They only make up 3% of the world so are often confused for socios/narcs/psychos which is understandable-

But I wanna make one thing clear: all sociopaths could be considered ENTPs. But not all ENTPs are sociopaths. (Switch Socio with psycho/narc/etc and it still works). Why?

Purpose.

Arrogance, boastfulness, unrefined emotional sensitivity, recklessness, impulsiveness- all of those fall below the importance of Purpose. Regardless of how Gojo "acts," it's been expressed time and time again- Gojo acts for the sake of the next generation. Sociopaths/Antisocial Personality Disorder/Psychopaths have one most common defining starting point: "it all starts with cruelty to animals and lack of response to their own actions, or actions of other people."

Let's make it more simple: regardless of whatever end of the spectrum sociopathy can be- high functioning, low functioning- antisocial personality disorder, in it's most simple terms, along with psychopathy and narcissism, condensed into one common trait is very clear: Their actions, while easily blendible into society, are for the sole purpose of pleasuring themselves.

Why don't people notice those with these disorders? Because their *behavior* is so similar to not just the typical ENTP, but also the ISTP AND ESTP. They can easily be mistaken for common members of society, but again: their sole purpose is the pursuit of pleasure themselves, while acting with complete disregard for the consequences of not just their own actions but others'. Staying in one job for extended periods of time is especially rare for a sociopath in particular, and this is one very clear difference between Gojo and a sociopath.

Gojo is willing to spend the rest of his life as a Jujutsu Sorcerer for the sake of others. This sentence alone defies any inclination that he could be a sociopath regardless of any other symptoms commonly associated with sociopathy, such as emotional insensitivity, hostility, risk taking behavior, lack of restraint, and impulsivity- there's a reason such people blend in with society, and that's because such symptoms are common with *any* person, regardless of personality type. Other than with the higher ups, Gojo hardly shows the anger, irritability, or general discontent that a sociopath is most commonly is associated with as their established mood - and even if he did, would being easily irritatable while in the position of the Strongest, the one who carries the burden of establishing a new future of Jujutsu Society on his shoulders alone be so unrealistic? That is why Purpose is so important.

If Gojo truly was a Sociopath, he would have dipped long before Jujutsu Kaisen had even started.

And I apologize for yet another tangent! Someone said Gojo sees his students as weapons or tools to be used in furthering his agenda. While that is not necessarily untrue, the implication is hardly close to reality. Like someone else commented, Gojo goes far and beyond for his students. While he is undoubtedly lacking in his ability to show affection in the most traditional of ways, it's clear that Gojo cares for his students-and others- deeply, whether that be when he went to see Yuta on his business trip to ensure Yuji would be safely taken care of in his absence, when he goes out of his way to personally supervise his students, when he willingly spends a whole day with Nanami just to ask him to mentor Yuji for him (in the Light Novel) regardless of Nanami's disdain, when he turned his Infinity off to allow Yaga to punish him (Gege made it clear in the manga that Gojo had done so to be a good role model for his students and that he recognizes his behavior deserves punishment), and when Gojo commented that he didn't want to think any of his students would be the traitor. Gojo does not express himself as most people do- he's only one of the most misunderstood personality types (on record, along with a few other personalites if you've researched them) and to say people have misinterpreted his character is much more plausible when even in real life, people who behave like Gojo are statistically reported to be misapprehended more often than more populated personality types. When inspected closely, there are so many ways Gojo himself expresses his care for other people, only hidden thinly behind the surface of his lofty attitude and uncaring demeanor. It only takes a few looks at his behavior, not his mouth, to recognize how much he goes out of his way for his students, doing he things that don't necessarily help further his agenda simply because he wants to, not because he has to. Changing the world isn't even something the average person would strive to do, yet Gojo makes it his life goal to accomplish. How could a heartless, emotion mimicking person possibly endure the strife necessary to accomplish such a task? It's appalling.

Gojo is more charitable than most people on the earth, simply because of the perseverance and diligence he takes to withstand the stress and hardships of Jujutsu Society for others. Remember that he chose to become the Strongest, it didn't happen overnight, and in becoming the Strongest, he carries the heaviest burden.

That's without mentioning that even though Gojo is the Strongest, and while to most he seems to proudly state so, it's clear that despite Gojo's antics, he recognizes his weaknesses as a sorcerer and is able to rely on others to make up for them. He had asked Nanami to mentor Yuji because he acknowledged his own flaws as a teacher and that Nanami would have a better capacity than him in that area (in Light Novel). He travelled to see Yuta to ask him to care for Yuji in case something happened to him- and Gojo knows that it's possible that he could be defeated somehow, someway. He's not so deluded to think he's untouchable, even despite his playfulnesses. He is always thinking ahead, calculating his next move while understanding his own shortcomings, acting prudently to ensure a better future.

He is a much deeper and complex character if one only takes the time to look past his antics and analyze his behavior- Something many people in real life seem to miss, and that is the true reason why Gojo struggles to commit.

Sorry for the long tangent and repetitiveness in the beginning lol! Back to the main issue!

Tl;dr there's more evidence of Gojo being a virgin who's more focused on work than pleasure. There's plenty of handsome men who don't seek out sex for reprieve but seek mental stimulation instead for relief. It's totally normal. Gojo could even spend his free time playing video games. He did admit to spending long hours beating 99 years of Momotarou Dentetsu to Geto. He's a gamer, and we know how gamers are commonly known for being virgins lol. Gojo could even be asexual for all we know. He could even be demisexual- someone who doesn't pursue sexual pleasure unless he's made an emotional connection with then. He doesn't necessarily have to even be straight or bi. Therefore, Gojo is very likely to be 28 year old virgin, and there's nothing wrong or strange about that.

Sources: ENTP articles, statistics on mbti rarity, other mbti articles, some quick Google searches, articles on sociopathy, psychopathy, narcissism, and antisocial disorders, etc, the manga, light novels, other metas in threads I remember reading, the anime, graphic organizers

Thanks for reading! 🙏

- 🤔

AHHHH CAN I JUST SAY THE ANIMATION IS DAMN GOOD 🔥🔥🔥 this scene in the manga is absolutely iconic prepare yourselves for season 2 😤 I literally had to stop the video and stare at him...I think one of the reasons Gojo behaved that way is becuz during childhood he probably didn't go out and be around people hence his confused reaction with the screaming teens. I mean everyone enjoys being complimented and getting attention from time to time and gojo is not an exception to this. Yes I definitely agree that when Gege said that he probably meant he's too busy for a relationship. The way it was translated made alot of people confused hence the player/cheater gojo was born. But then also the remember the comment he made when Gojo won the popularity poll? "Pick Nanami instead" ahhh hilarious

MY GAWD 🤔 ANON CAN I JUST SAY THAT YOU'RE AMAZING?! You explained in a way that easy to understand and you made statements backing it up with evidence. I learned from your ask than I ever did in university 😂 wow its truly fascinating though I never knew much personality types especially ENTPs I DON'T BELIEVE FOR ONE SEC GOJO IS A SOCIOPATH OR PSYCHOPATH fight me if you do. Exactly exactly just as anon said "He is a much deeper and complex character if one only takes the time to look past his antics and analyze his behavior." I COULDN'T AGREE MORE 😤 thank you so much for once again educating the community I'm a fan of you 🤔 anon ❤

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Deleted Scenes: A Character Study (Part 1)

Longer title -- “Deleted Scenes: if the Criminal Minds writers had any idea how to incorporate dramatic back story into a working narrative, A Character Study”

Every once in a while I get impassioned about something that happens in the show, or more importantly that doesn’t happen in the show -- but should have. This will probably be one of at least a handful, but for now, enjoy the pinnacle of my rage. Fueled by all the OPENINGS for Hotch to talk about his past and the writers taking advantage of NONE OF THEM, but this was my breaking point.

Rating: General 

Warnings: mentions of past child abuse

Pairing: none

Characters: Hotch, JJ

Episode, and placement: Season 10, Episode 05, “Boxed In”; after the episode 

Word count: 2,404

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796501/chapters/73302726

--

A Prime Example

--

Very few things get to Aaron Hotchner. Especially things that are said with no relatable context to him or the details people don’t know about his life. His past, in particular. He pushes them back in compartmentalized little boxes, carefully labeled and sorted and set aside to be unpacked at a later date. They aren’t important when he’s on a case. When a twelve-year-old boy is missing and his life hangs in the balance. When time is of the essence. 

Which is why, on numerous occasions, he lets the things people say slide. 

Especially on the topic of Nature versus Nurture. 

He, himself, has written a handful of papers and reports on the very argument. There’s no doubt that Nature and Nurture have complicated roles in why ‘bad people do bad things’, in layman's terms. But the stigma surrounding it, cutting it into a black and white, all or nothing scenario will always rub him the wrong way. Not because he believes in it, one way or the other, but because he lives it. Day after day. 

It’s not his team’s fault that they don’t know that. Hotch keeps those parts of his life to himself. Lessons only he has learned, and has grown from, and keeps as careful guidelines. 

Until this case.

“I guess we all become our parents at some point.”

The way JJ had said this -- steady, with no hesitation, despite the choice in phrasing indicating it could be a right or wrong assumption -- gave the statement an air of inevitability. Creating a precedent in her mind that set Hotch's teeth on edge, though it had not been the appropriate moment to correct her on it. But it's not the first time JJ has said something along those lines. 

“Does the son of a sociopath even really have a chance?” 

Not a lot gets to Aaron Hotchner. Every other remark, observation, detail of an unsub’s correlation between their upbringing and their crimes he doesn’t let sting his exposition. It has never affected him before, and he vowed it never will. His father doesn’t get to take that away from him, too.

But the inevitability of her statement, indicating it was only a matter of time. No matter what he has done with his life or the person he has worked so hard to become and imbody, ultimately it wouldn’t matter in the end. That one day, Aaron Hotchner would be just like his father. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to live with himself, if that were to happen. 

That single, throw-away sentence, with a pedestrian phrasing he has heard over and over again, gets to Hotch. It buries itself in him like a tick and refuses to let go, not for tweezers or fire or smothering indifference. It is still there, echoing in his head as if shouted down a long tunnel, even after they get back to Quantico and are finishing up the closing paperwork later that week. He finds himself barely able to glance at JJ for longer than a moment without hearing her words once more, and Hotch berates himself for it. Over and over again. This is why he shuts it all down and doesn’t talk about it. This is why he keeps it buried, where it will never resurface. It interferes with the present, with his work and his friendships and his relationship with his son. 

His past needs to stay dead and buried in a plot in rural Virginia, where it belongs.

“I have those reports for you, Hotch,” JJ says, as if procured by his musings. He glances up for the briefest of moments, barely a blink, to acknowledge her and nod in thanks as she leaves the folders on his desk. Then he’s turning back to the SWAT team justification reports and expects that to be the last of it. Drowning himself in his work, where everything is strict codes and formal speech patterns and no emotional influence whatsoever.

Which is why he is surprised to hear JJ address him, again. Never having left his office. 

“Sir?” The formal term catches his attention even more. “Is everything alright? Did something happen after you missed Halloween night?”

“What?” The question genuinely throws him off, though it doesn’t show on his face. He had missed Halloween, the first time he had ever done so, but Jack understood. He was always much more accepting of the parameters of Hotch’s job than Haley ever was. It was all he’s ever known. “Oh, no -- Jack had a fun night. Slept on the couch so I could see him in his costume when he got home. How was Henry’s night?”

“He and Will had a great time,” JJ answers, her careful, worried expression not waning in the face of Hotch’s slightly more upbeat tone. It’s something he slips into subconsciously when speaking about Jack, or to Jack, or anywhere Jack might hear. Compartmentalization. “I just… noticed you seem off.”

Hotch nods once, in acknowledgement, because he knows he has. He’s working on it. There was no need for an intervention like this. He’s the Team Leader and Unit Chief, he wasn’t the one people were supposed to be checking on.

“Delayed reaction to the case,” he answers, looking back to the SWAT team report and signing off on another section for mobilization after hours. Overtime justifications. Bureaucracy needs the ‘i’s dotted and ‘t’s crossed. “Nothing to worry about.” 

JJ takes pause, and still doesn’t make for the door of his office. Like she needs to elaborate somehow, now that Hotch has left a small crack of an opening into his inner sanctum. 

“I know we all have cases that hit us too close to home,” she concedes, the start of a much longer speech. “Young boys, even the troublemakers --”

“No, JJ, I appreciate the concern,” Hotch interrupts, and does his best to appease her by keeping the hardness off his face. “But it’s nothing to do with Jack or facts we found. It’s a personal matter.” 

“Of course, it’s just --”

Years ago, that would have been that and JJ would have left his office. But time and history have blurred their relationship from boss and subordinate to friends and family. Personal matter no longer meant private, it meant a switch in barriers. It meant family. 

She steps closer to his desk.

“You are always there for us, for these kinds of cases.” Her blue eyes bore into his, a technique Hotch recognizes as a fellow parent, to get through and make sure the person they are speaking to is really listening. “But, do you ever allow anyone to be there for you?”

He sighs through his nose. She’s not going to let this go, he can see that. No profiling needed.

“Sit.” 

Closing the file, Hotch resigns himself to the fact that this was something inadvertently he’d been wanting to talk to JJ about, anyway. She had been a profiler for the team almost nearly as long as she’d been communications liaison, now, and although this could have waited for her performance review -- it tied into what was bothering him. The small smile of victory, and relief, slips from her lips as she sees the serious set to Hotch’s mouth. JJ is one hell of a profiler. The best ones did it without even knowing they were doing so.

“Wait… is this about me?” she looks mildly scandalized to even have to suggest it. Although really, it shouldn’t surprise her too much. Hotch knows he isn’t great about making things about himself, even when the conversation is supposed to be. So he gathers his thoughts, with such little prep time, and decides to start with where this whole debacle had begun. 

In the car. When JJ had made her off-handed comment.

“The events of our lives shape us, and bring us here. As they do for everyone. It’s a technique that also helps us narrow down our profiles. How we were raised, what he have gone through. Heredity factors.”

JJ is staring hard at him, now. Deciphering the point, attempting to look ten steps ahead when Hotch has barely revealed three.

“You’re talking about Nature versus Nurture.” 

“You could say that,” Hotch acquiesces. “In a lot of ways we are our parent’s lineage. Unless we choose not to be. I only became a prosecutor because my father was. But now, here I am.”

The parent’s lineage is a direct drop towards the conversation in the car. Both JJ and Hotch are intelligent adults, as is the entire team. Sometimes the most direct reference isn’t needed. Sometimes a key phrase is what links the mind back to the moment, replays it in the mind’s eye so it becomes fresh and there’s no confusion. Fewer words can connect more than a thousand, Hotch had learned that early on as well. 

“I was… I was speaking more toward behavior,” JJ elaborates, still unaware where the conversation is going. How this has correlated to Hotch’s odd mood. 

“I know you were. And my statement still stands,” Hotch answers plainly. “I’ve noticed that sometimes agents, myself included, let bias dictate their profiles. And we need to stray away from that kind of influence.” 

JJ’s slight frown becomes defensive. Confused, but not angry. She’s learning quickly, Hotch notices. 

“Nature and Nurture are a part of standard psychology practices. With a lot of information and testing to back it up. Spence could give you statistics for days, I’m sure. It’s proven.”

“Yes, as a theory. Not as a rule.” Hotch continues, giving her that steady, stern but gentle tone that borders on chastisement. 

“I have yet to see an exception to that rule, when it comes to children of violent offenders,” JJ buckles down. “If they are the target of that violence, it warps them, Hotch. Plain and simple. How do they recover from something like that?” She’s shaking her head, getting caught up in the emotional aspect of it all over again. The hopelessness of its appearance.

“Any way they can.” 

Now he has JJ’s attention, because she hears the shift as soon as it forms on his tongue. The air heavier, hazy like an old memory.

“Sometimes they leave home as soon as they graduate just to escape the situation, and spend their whole adult lives trying to eradicate it. By burying themselves in, say… Law School.” JJ’s stare goes vacant, and Hotch at least has the decency to look away from her as he continues. He has a point to make. “So they can put away people like their abuser. But when that’s not enough, prosecuting after the fact, they start to focus on ways to catch the offenders in the act. Save victims in the real world. Use what they know from experience, but in the field, so no one else slips through the cracks.”

“H-Hotch, I--”

“If there was a file on me as detailed as these on my desk, and there probably is somewhere in this building,” Hotch barrels on, not letting JJ get a word in edgewise. “Then the first seventeen years of my homelife would look nearly identical to John David Bidwell's childhood.” He didn’t need to go into further detail, though bullet points from the case all bust flash between them in neon. 

Strict, domineering father figure. Church every Sunday, as a control and appearance factor. At home: a constant deluge of beratements, fear, shouting and fists. Something was always wrong, someone always deserved a punishment. No one was safe. They did what they could, followed the rules to a tee, but that wasn't always enough.

They survived, because that's all that they could do.

And he had.

“If you really require a physical, living exception to the rule, I’d like to hope we know each other well enough that you would consider myself that exception.” It’s the closest he’s ever come to admitting what happened in his father’s household, and Hotch knows that’s as far as he will let it go. No elaboration needed. “Even if I can be ‘a bit of a bully’.” 

Stunned and shocked, the last part probably wasn’t needed. But, again, Hotch has a point he’s trying to get across -- and he wants it to make an impact.

“Hotch, I’m so sorry,” JJ croaks out, and he still can’t look right at her.

“Don’t be, you didn’t know,” he soothes her, swallowing a little hard. “No one on the team does, not even Dave.”

“--No one?”

“The only one who probably did was Gideon, but not because I told him. He was just that good of a profiler. You will be, too, one day -- I see that level of potential in you. Profilers are always learning, evolving, developing their skills.” Hotch finally turns his head, and catches sight of JJ with her eyes bright and her nose red. Her tell-tale physical signs that she’s been holding back tears. “Let this be one of those moments.” 

She nods, wipes at her eyes discreetly, and collects herself with more strength than Hotch or anyone else ever gives her credit for.

“Was he ever convicted? Your father?”

“No,” Hotch says, level. “He died of colon cancer ten years ago. He never even met Jack. Neither did my mother, though I am sorry for that.” 

Silence stretches in the wake of Hotch’s reveal, and JJ only breaks it when she can’t seem to keep it back any more.

“You’re… you’re not really a bully. You know.”

“Yes, I am,” Hotch tells her, the smallest traces of a smile smoothing the sharp edges of his face. “But only when I choose to be. When it matters.” 

JJ huffs out a watery laugh, scoots to the edge of her seat as if to stand, but hesitates once more.

“You didn’t have to tell me. But thank you. I’m… I’m glad you felt that you could.” 

The sentiment warms the inside of Hotch’s chest, ice cold from the memories he never dredged up if he could afford it. It helps ease them back under the floorboards of his mind, where they belong.

“Thank you for listening.” 

She was right. He didn’t confide in anyone, and he doesn’t know if this will help him -- more than likely, not -- but it helped JJ. And that’s what mattered. His team. His family. Growing, learning, becoming all the better for it. The best people he had ever known. 

The family he had chosen for himself.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Night, JJ.”

-end scene-

[calwrites]

The Halloween Party

Summary: Reader has lived across the hall from Penelope Garcia for a couple years and considers her to be one of her best friends. That’s the only reason she agreed to go to a Halloween match making party.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.2k

I wrote this very quickly so it’s not the best, but I couldn’t let Halloween go by without writing something for Reid.

——————

“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this stupid match making thing,” you grumbled at the blonde currently on your couch.

Penelope Garcia smiled at you over her wine glass. “Well I wanted to go but only if my favorite neighbor did it too.”

“I’m the only neighbor you talk to,” you pointed out. Penelope stuck her tongue out at you and waved her empty glass in the air. You rolled your eyes, but refilled her glass anyway.

You and Penelope had lived in the same building for a few years. When you had seen the brightly dressed woman lugging boxes down the hall, you had offered to help her move everything in. She had intrigued you. You had passed each other in the hall a couple of times after that, but had never really talked until one evening when you heard a knock on your door.

It had puzzled you because you were still pretty new to the area so you didn’t have any friends who would be dropping by unexpectedly. Opening the door, you had found Penelope standing in the hall crying.

“I had a really bad day at work. I just really need someone to talk to,” she had said. You ushered her in and spent the night learning about Penelope’s job as a technical analyst for the BAU. Now whenever Penelope’s team got through with a tough case, she would come collapse on your couch while the two of you drank wine and decompressed.

“You’re also the one who told me to get out there and forget about Kevin,” Penelope countered.

“Yeah well I didn’t think you’d drag me along.”

“It’s not just you! I convinced some of my friends at the BAU to sign up too. Besides, I know you’re excited for the party. You already bought two dresses.” She pointed at the dresses still laying out on your kitchen table. You were trying to decide whether a black dress or white dress would be better for your costume.

“I’m always excited for a Halloween costume party. I just never thought I’d be one of those sad people who signs up for a matchmaking party.”

“Y/N, you are one of the smartest people I know. And I work for the FBI. I know a lot of smart people. The only reason you’re still single is because whenever you get time off from teaching you spend it trying to solve impossible math equations. And I thought you said your match sounded nice.”

You sighed. “Trying to solve an impossible math equation is arguably the most important part of my job. I think the university cares more about that than the courses I teach sometimes. I guess he does seem nice. He’s either very smart or he’s very good at using google to sound smart. Either way, when you look at the data, the likelihood of finding a long term partner through a survey is-“

Penelope groaned. “No! I get enough info dumping at work. Let’s just talk about the party. It’s next weekend and you’re buying clothes for it so I assume you and your partner decided on your costumes. What is it?”

When Penelope had invited you to a Halloween costume party, you had been quick to accept. She then told you that it was a matchmaking party where you had to fill out a survey and were then matched with another attendee. Pairs would have to decide on costumes and then find each other at the party. Until then, pairs wouldn’t know who the other person was. Definitely not your usual definition of fun.

“I’m not telling you,” you teased. Penelope gasped on faux anger before the two of you burst into laughter and decided on a movie to watch.

——————

You stared at your computer screen intently, willing the message to change.

I’ve been out of state for a work trip for the past few days. I didn’t mention it earlier because I was hoping that we would get back in plenty of time. It took a couple more days than we were anticipating though. We’re about to take off, so I’ll make it back in time for the party but I won’t have time to put out on my whole costume. I can just wear the cape or something if you don’t have any better suggestions. I’m looking forward to meeting you tonight.

You chewed your lip thoughtfully before an idea popped into your head. And you began typing back a response.

That’s a shame. I was looking forward to seeing your Masque of the Red Death costume. I have a new idea though. What character refused to wear a costume to a costume ball?

The response came back almost immediately.

And I was looking forward to seeing your Leonore costume. I’m sure that there are a number of characters who fit that description. Would you like a list?

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

It’s another gothic story. He’s throwing the fancy dress party, but he refuses to dress up. His new wife’s costume causes a bit of a stir. Enough clues?

The reply caused you to get up quickly to begin sorting out your new costume.

I’ll see you tonight, Mrs. de Winters.

A few hours later found you ready to leave. You were thankful that you still had the white dress you had previously purchased with the idea of using it for Leonore. You were even more thankful that you still had a wig from a few Halloween’s ago that worked for your costume. So now, with a white dress and curly dark hair, you were ready to leave.

“Ok I give up,” Penelope said when she opened her door. “What are you supposed to be?”

“I’m the narrator from Rebecca,” you told her. “It’s kind of a last minute costume. I’m glad your case wrapped up today. I would be bummed if I had to go without you.”

“Well it’s a good thing it didn’t come to that.” Penelope looped her arm through yours and pulled you down the hallway, the two of you laughing as you went.

——————

Thankfully the room wasn’t too loud when you and Penelope arrived. Jack-o-lanterns and bowls of candy sat on tables around the edge of the room, and bats and ghosts hung from the ceiling. You and Penelope made a circuit around the room, trying to find your matches.

“Maybe ours guys are running late,” Penelope suggested. The two of you had moved to a snack table while you surveyed the sea of costumes around you.

“Or they’re ditching us.” Penelope gave you a playful swat. You were saved from another attack by Penelope’s phone dinging.

“Oh! Some of my friends are here. Come meet them.” Before you could protest, Penelope was dragging you across the room. Two people stood against the wall talking, but broke into smiles and waved when they saw Penelope approaching.

“Y/N, this is Derek and Emily. Guys, this is my neighbor Y/N.”

You smiled and shook hands with the two FBI agents.

“So you’re the famous Y/N,” Derek grinned. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Famous? If anyone is famous it’s Derek “chocolate thunder” Morgan. The way Penelope talks about you, I was imagining a superhero. She wasn’t wrong.”

“I like her,” Derek laughed.

Emily groaned. “He does not need a bigger ego.”

“Where’s Reid?” Penelope asked. “Don’t tell me he bailed.”

“He said he needed to stop by his apartment first. We came straight from the plane. And don’t worry, Hotch and JJ both assured us they would take pictures of the kids in their costumes.” Penelope squealed and clapped her hands excitedly.

You chatted with Penelope and her friends for a few more minutes before Penelope spotted a man wearing a matching costume to hers. She waved bye to your little group and rushed off to meet him, leaving you with the two FBI agents.

“Oh there’s Pretty Boy,” Derek cried.

“I was kind of expecting you to show up in an intricate costume. You love Halloween, Spencer,” Emily said.

You turned to find a handsome man approaching your group. He was wearing a nice suit and had a leather satchel slung over his shoulder.

“No time, unfortunately.” The man shrugged. “I just had to pick up some books from my apartment. Hi. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. You must be Garcia’s friend.” He turned to you, but didn’t extend a hand. You realized that this must be the young genius Penelope mentioned from time to time.

“Y/N,” you replied. Spencer’s eyes took in your costume carefully. You tried not to shift uncomfortably.

“Are you planning on doing some reading tonight?” Derek asked.

“No. My date and I were discussing a volume of poetry that I have, so I wanted to bring it to show her.”

“What a ladies man,” Emily teased. “How’s she going to know it’s you though? You’re not wearing a costume.”

“Actually, I am.” Spencer smiled slightly at the confused looks on his friends’ faces. What he just said clicked for you suddenly.

“Maxim?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

Spencer blinked at you in surprise before smiling widely. “Mrs. de Winters?”

Emily and Derek looked between of you in slight confusion, but you and Spencer smiled at each other in delight. “We’ll leave you two to it,” Derek teased as he and Emily walked away.

“I’m glad that you’re a friend of Penelope’s and not a complete stranger,” you admitted. “I was a little worried I’d get stuck with some weirdo. Not that you sounded weird when we talked!”

“Well our first conversation was about the statistics of meeting a murderer when online dating. That’s a little weird.” The two of you laughed slightly.

“I’m a math professor, so I’m interested in anything statistics,” you admitted. “I’m kind of a nerd.”

“Same,” Spencer laughed. “You know these last minute costumes were a good idea.”

“I still want to see your Masque of the Red Death costume sometime.”

“Deal, but only if you tell me what you teach.”

You waved your hand. “Oh nothing exciting. Just some upper level math that nobody wants to take. The fun part of my job is trying to solve the Riemann hypothesis.”

“You’re trying to solve one of the Millennium Prize problems?” Spencer asked in surprise.

“I’m surprised you know about it.” Most people you talked to had no idea what the Millennium Prize problems were. You were sure they wondered why a university would tenure you just so you could keep trying to solve a math problem.

“I’ve looked over them before,” Spencer admitted shyly, like he was waiting for you to make fun of him.

“No luck?”

“Way beyond my level.” The two of you laughed slightly. A slower song began to play and couples danced slowly across the dance floor.

“Want to dance?” you suggested. Spencer hesitated and you worried for a second that you had overstepped, but then he smiled and held out his hand.

Neither one of you were very good dancers, but what you lacked in talent you made up for in smiles. You continued to discuss everything from mathematical theory to what working at the FBI was like to classic literature.

“Do you think this is how the Manderley fancy dress party would have gone if Mrs. Danvers hadn’t sabotaged the narrator?” you asked. “They could have been as happy as us dancing.”

Spencer thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. I don’t think they could have been truly happy together with all of the secrets still between them.”

“True,” you agreed. “So you think we’re happy?”

When Spencer smiled at you, your heart fluttered. “I’m pretty happy. This is going a lot better than I expected. Not that I didn’t think you sounded great when we talked online! But Derek said something about you sounding too good to be true, so I started to worry that you wouldn’t be as amazing in person, but I shouldn’t have. You’re even better in person.”

You smiled gently back at Spencer. “You’re better in person too.”

Spencer studied your face intently for a few seconds, a look of uncertainty on his face. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quickly, like he was afraid he would lose his nerve if he waited.

Your smile grew. “I’d like that,” you responded.

Spencer put one hand gently on your cheek, the other still resting on your waist, and brought his lips down to meet yours. When the two of you broke away, still smiling widely, you were totally oblivious to the looks of shock and delight on the FBI agents’ faces.

“I think we might have to do this again sometime, Mrs. de Winters.”

“I think so, Maxim.”

Without speaking, the two of you leaned in again, and you were able to capture Spencer’s lips once more. You didn’t think you’d get tired of this any time soon. If only you had taken Penelope up on her offer to set the two of you up last year.

[everything-laito]

Hypersexuality and Laito Sakamaki (UPDATED)

Hiya guys! Been a long ass time since I’ve made a post like this, I’ve been getting so much ask box activity + had school so I haven’t had the time to make an original post! This has been something I wanted to write for a while, and not only was I busy with school, but this one hits home hard to me personally, so I was going back and forth for a bit writing it. But I think I’m ready :)

I know there’s kind of a general consensus that anything DL related comes along with a trigger warning whether stated or not, but just a TW considering I’ll be talking about some real life experiences; not in depth or detail of course, but just mentions of it :) Not only is this a Laito analysis but it’s also an educational tool to help other people know about this!

So, without further ado, rant under the cut! 

Hypersexuality is something that many sexual assault/harassment and rape survivors experience after the abuse. People associate asexuality or sexual repulsion as the only (or common) psychological affect after experiencing those situations. However, there is another affect that can happen, and it is more common than people think, and aforementioned, it’s hypersexuality. It’s basically having more sexual feeling and urges after the experience, in order to cope with the nonconsensual one. And it’s exactly what Laito experienced after Cordelia’s abuse.

I’ve also experienced something like this. I don’t believe I’ve experienced it in full swing, but definitely something like it. I haven’t been raped thankfully, but I have been sexually harassed/assaulted before a handful of times. I know I’ve briefly mentioned that in other analyses, but I’m just explicitly stating it here.

I first learned about hypersexuality this year actually, and my Laito nerd brain was like “holy shit that’s the name of what Laito is going through.” Then I was like “oh fuck I’ve gone through that a little bit too.” I thought going along with  would help me “heal” myself, and it really was doing the opposite. (UPDATE: realized that what I thought was a lot of sexual trauma/hypersexuality was mostly compulsory heterosexuality (but still with those dabbled in too—quite a terrible combo) because last month I realized I’m not attracted to men! Although those experiences I mentioned did mess me up a bit, realizing this is a huge step in the right direction for my own mental well being. Just had to make this correction on my part, since the original post had more emotional investment than I would have liked it to :)) 

Like I have said in my little update, I realized I was going through mostly compulsory heterosexuality while also going through some minor sexual trauma/hypersexuality. Although again, I have not had it as bad as Laito has or other sexual assault survivors (which I am grateful for that), I still have a personal grasp of coping mechanisms with traumatic experiences or experiences I did not particularly enjoy. (If you are interested in learning more about compulsory heterosexuality, feel free to send me an ask! I just don’t feel that it’s appropriate to talk about it in regards to Laito or make a post about it, since it doesn’t relate to him)

And that’s probably also why I can resonate with Laito so much, at least on that scale, and even if I experienced a grain of what he’s going through. I know he’s fictional but these are definitely real experiences and real feelings. 

Laito’s case is a bit different than just feeling overtly sexual. Although he’s trying to heal himself through sex and other intimate actions, he’s also doing it as a type of revenge. He doesn’t like purity, and in fact, he’s quite jealous of it. I’ve heard this is also a pretty human way of coping with this type of abuse, and it is why I love Yui as a character. She’s incredibly strong and sets an example for Laito. This makes Laito jealous yet entertained by her, and that’s also a reason why he probably keeps her around. He also attempts to use Yui as a vessel to avenge his own feelings (even not knowing about Cordelia being in her at first). I  personally wasn’t like that, but given the circumstances, there’s definitely people who are. Laito’s character can be so human to me sometimes, its astonishing, despite him being a character, a vampire, and just generally does some wacky or terrible shit. 

You could say his hypersexuality could also be similar to typical Pavlovian Conditioning. You’ve probably heard of the whole experiment of training (conditioning) a dog to expect food when they hear a certain sound and thus, his mouth waters. We’re conditioned by a lot of things in our lives, from triggering a “flight or fight” response from this specific ringtone or high school bell. It’s just a built in “routine” our minds utilize to process pattern recognition. I know I say this a lot, but we don’t know how vampire brains in the DL universe compare to human brains (and quite frank, I don’t think we will), so I will just do my typical human brain picking. 

In Laito’s case, he was conditioned to “love” Cordelia in a fashion that was incredibly gross. No, I won’t sugar coat it. In my Cordelia/Laito analysis, I talk about how Laito was probably groomed. Grooming is another type of conditioning. Although I don’t believe his grooming was sexual, it definitely “prepares” the victim to be exploited in that fashion later on. It’s to build a false sense of trust to be betrayed. Later on, when Cordelia started having sex with Laito, he became used to it in a “conditioned” fashion. When someone said that Cordelia was calling him, he knew what it was. He also thought it’s what he wanted, even though he knew that he didn’t. I believe I have referenced his MB Dark Prologue monologue before, but not this part of it. Here’s the monologue: 

――Who is it that I give my love to? Throwing myself away, I caught the sight of someone Someone I didn’t recognize, Suddenly, I realized I was looking into a mirror. The mirror reflected myself within it. I couldn’t see anything else. I am disgraceful for this greed. I was wearing a visage. What I wanted, certainly was love. It’s not that easy. Because of these words, I suffer. No matter how many times love is said, The only thing that will be important to me, Is only the physical contact and body.

I know I've said it in the Laito/Cordelia analysis, but Laito is visibly confused in his flashbacks. He’s trying to grasp what love is, but then convinces himself that love is physical contact, and not emotional connection, especially near the end. He knows he’s suffering but he is still conditioned to think like this. Same case for people who suffer from hypersexuality. 

Although many people do not know why it occurs, it can be a symptom or “side effect” from disorders, medication, and the like. In the sexual trauma case, I believe a main reason is that the person utilizes sex to cope with trauma, or because they are used to sexual acts being forced upon them. That’s where conditioning still comes in. He’s treated as one of her suitors, lovers, or the like. Even as a stand-in for Richter and Karlheinz. He doesn’t consider Cordelia to be his mom until the DF Vampire ending. On top of him not receiving emotional gratification which leads to all sorts of just awful stuff for him, sexual attention is the only type that he receives until Yui comes along. He is used to not having emotional support or connections, which is why physical contact is what he is more “comfortable” with, while at the end of the day it still does not satisfy him.  

It creates a positive feedback loop of him being unsatisfied, while being confused about where he’s unsatisfied in, leading to him trying to “fix” himself or avoid his own personal, emotional problems through lust and sex, but then still finding himself not “healing.” Then the cycle continues, enthusing his hyper sexual behavior even more.

I was sent some great articles from @souchiika on the DL discord (thank you so much!) and one of the articles stood out to me, since I did not talk about this type of topic on this blog yet. Here’s the link to the article, and here’s the quote that stood out to me!

Furthermore, indirect effects were also statistically significant, providing support to the hypothesis that depression and guilt would be serial mediators of trauma-hypersexual behavior relations. The paths through depression and guilt have been found to be the most significant with moderate and high indirect effects on hypersexuality. Moreover, male gender, as covariate variable, is a relevant risk factor for hypersexual behavior.

Hypersexuality is something that is still being researched like I mentioned earlier, but since these findings came out, it definitely makes sense in Laito’s case (and in general). Like I said, Laito does feel unsatisfied and even shameful of his actions, which is more apparent in the beginning of his and Cordelia’s “relationship.” In those flashbacks, he asks himself if this is what he really wants, and although he attempts to force himself to like these actions as a coping mechanism, there is still a relative degree of shame and guilt he has. It is also apparent nearing his DF Ecstacy ending when he finds out that Karlheinz foresaw Cordelia having sex with him, and even wanted it to happen. All that shame and guilt came bellowing out while he was in a fit of distress. In initial attempts to mediate this guilt and shame, he projected his feelings onto other women through sexual acts, leading to more of this hypersexual loop. I know I talk about Laito projecting a lot, but it is frequent in his character. Like I’ve always said, it’s typical “bully” power dynamic manipulation. If Laito can bring a victim of his down to his level, then he feels better about himself (but it satisfies him for only a short while, until Yui in MB+). 

Also, note that this is no excuse or justification for him to rape or sexually assault others. It is merely an explanation as to why he does it (as for my posts in general, it’s not a justification, it’s an explanation). 

Another reminder that rape and sexual assault isn’t about the sexual urges, but about power. That’s why anybody with any background can do it, given the circumstances. 

This post was a bit hard for me to write, so I apologize if I got too overtly personal for your liking. Like I’ve said in the past, I’m not writing this to gain sympathy too, and sure that sounds superficial of me to say now (although I truly mean it), I just want to use my platform as an educational tool. Sorry about the change in my typical tone :) 

Sorry if this was too much of a doozy, I really wanted to talk about it and to educate people, despite it being a bit personal. I just felt like the most effective way was to convey how real this topic is, despite this fandom knowing about it in a fictional setting. 

I hope you have a great day! -Corn

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.34

Word Count: 2,657

Characters: Derek Hale (mentioned), Isaac Lahey, Chris Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent (brief), Cora Hale (brief), Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, bad writing

A/N: i’m mad at most men for existing

Masterlist         Series Masterlist

“Why didn’t you tell us that you two broke up?” you sighed deeply, hearing Stiles’ voice on your phone. 

You sat on your bed, rubbing your head. It was 8 in the morning, and you needed to be on your way to school. 

“I don’t know, Stiles. Can you just drop it?” you asked.

“No. What happened?” he asked again.

“Things weren’t working, okay?” Isaac already left for somewhere, some time ago. He became distant after Boyd’s death, as did everyone else. You hadn’t seen Cora in some time either. Stiles and Scott seemed to be the only ones talking to you. 

You hadn’t slept in days, as you kept thinking back to your conversation with Deucalion. Your eyes were black, it was harder to control your powers. 

“But what things?” you jumped as you heard the door open, Stiles and Scott walking in.

“What the… how did you get in?!” you exclaimed, putting your phone down as you stood up.

“I made a copy,” he held up his keys as you grabbed them from him, pulling your key off.

“This is an invasion of privacy. What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Trying to talk to you! All you’re doing is avoiding my question!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Because it’s none of your business, Stiles!” you yelled, as both boys fell silent.

“What Stiles means to say, is that we’re sorry, and if you ever want to talk, we’re here,” Scott said in a calm voice, standing between you and Stiles.

“Get out,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Wait, we got you coffee. Well, we made it,” Stiles handed you a cup, as you raised an eyebrow.

“You made me a coffee? Why?” you immediately got suspicious.

“Because we’re good friends, a-and we give friends coffee,” Stiles answered nervously.

You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip while the two of them watched you carefully. You immediately gagged, running to your bathroom as you spit it out in the sink. There was black coffee, with small bits of mistletoe inside it.

“Did you put mistletoe in this?” you coughed, rinsing your mouth before leaving your bathroom.

“Oh… how did that get in there,” Stiles said softly, unenergetic.

You rolled your eyes, picking up your phone before throwing Stiles’ keys back to him.

“Next time you try to poison me don’t make it so obvious,” you hissed, leaving Stiles and Scott in your apartment, slamming the door behind you.

“So, she’s not the darach. I’ll text Allison, Scott said, pulling out his phone, while Stiles continued to look at his keys, slightly in shock.

“Stiles? What is it?” Scott turned to Stiles, who held up his keys, all of them twisted and bent.

“She broke my keys,” Stiles said, baffled.

Scott looked at the keys, in shock. 

“Uh, sorry about your keys, man,” Scott said.

“No, that’s not the problem... I mean I have an extra pair of all the important ones… Something’s wrong, she might not be the darach, but something’s definitely wrong,” Stiles said.

“Or maybe you just pissed her off,” Scott shrugged.

“Look at the freaking keys, Scott. A pissed off human doesn’t have the strength to disfigure keys like this, and I didn’t hear (Y/N) say or do any spell,” Stiles pointed out.

“I-I don’t know. Let’s just go,” Scott suggested.

 Stiles nodded, opening the door as the two of them left.

---

“There are five different groups. Virgins, Healers, Warriors, and now Guardians and Philosophers. It can be represented by this Celtic symbol. It’s a five-fold knot,” Chris explained, picking up the map from his table, to show the symbol below it.

“How do you… how long have you spent researching all this?” you asked, leaning against the table.

“My dad knew most of it, so not as long as you think,” you tensed up, giving Chris a look.

“You mean Gerard’s alive?” you asked, surprised.

“Well, what did you think happened to him? I can’t seem to be able to put him 6 feet under, no matter how much I want to,” Chris replied.

“Give me one hour, I’ll do it myself,” you clenched your jaw.

Chris gave you a look, putting the map of Beacon Hills back onto his table.

“As I was saying, someone else was taken. Her name was Tara, she was a police officer, but before that, she was a teacher. The next group he’s going after is philosophers,” Chris said.

“Why are you so sure it’s a he? What if it’s a woman?” you asked.

Chris laughed softly, looking down.

“Is something funny?” you raised an eyebrow.

“No… with questions like that, you remind me of your mother,” you exhaled sharply, running your fingers through your hair.

“My question still stands. Each murder is planned out exactly. There’s no room for error. It’s not the alpha pack, we know that. They have claws, and they would definitely be messier and want to have more fun. The problem with men is that they’re arrogant, and they get cocky. They would torture their victims first. There’s no evidence of torture on any of the bodies,” you explained.

“But…” Chris started.

“Statistically, it makes more sense if the killer is female,” you said.

Chris stayed quiet for a moment before replying.

“What field of work are you going into?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know. Honestly, I might drop out anyway. How is that relevant?” you raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not, I just think you’d do well working for aw enforcement,” he shrugged.

“That’s not… let’s get back to the murders,”  you said.

“Right, okay. Well, if she’s sticking to her original schedule, that means that Tara is already dead, and she’s going after the next victim,” Chris said.

“So what do we do now?” you asked.

“We can’t do anything. Just wait, in a few hours or so, another victim will be taken. We don’t know how she’s picking her victims or from where. But, they each have a few hours before they die. That’s when we’ll look, we’ll find this next victim, and find the darach,” Chris explained.

“Darach? What’s that?” you asked.

“That’s the person who’s making the sacrifices,” Chris said.

“They’re druids, or were druids at least. You kill them with silver, mistletoe is like their mountain ash,” Chris said.

Your mind drifted back to Stiles and Scott this morning as you sighed.

“How sure are you that Allison and the rest of them don’t know anything about this?” 

----

“Everything seems to happen at abandoned warehouses and buildings,” you sighed, sitting next to Chris in the car.

“Well, they’re secluded areas, it’s easy to not get caught. The next sacrifice should be here,” Chris opened up the map, showing you.

“So, what are we gonna do? What’s the plan?” you asked.

“Well, I have some guns in the back. Silver bullets filled with mistletoe,” he explained.

“Okay, how do we know when the Darach’s coming back to sacrifice him?” you asked.

“We don’t, that’s why we have to wait it out,” he grabbed two guys from the backseat, handing one to you.

“Don’t miss,” he said.

“I never miss,” you scoffed, getting out of the car.

—-

You poked your head up, staying quiet as you gripped your gun tightly, hearing voices.

You stayed hidden, behind a pillar, Argent on the other side of you.

You motioned to him, as he shrugged. The voices grew familiar, as you raised an eyebrow. It was Isaac and Allison.

What the hell are they doing here? you asked yourself.

You felt a shiver down your spine, hearing a low moan. You turned to Chris, knowing he heard it too.

“Allison, wait!” you heard Isaac scream.

“Get down!” Chris yelled as the two of you turned around, aiming behind the teacher as you shot.

You saw the Darach standing behind him, her face was slashed up, wearing a black cloak.

She ignored the two of you, as she tied a garrote around his neck, strangling him. 

You ran to her, keeping your gun aimed at her while you continued shooting. You felt a weird sense of familiarity wash over you, as she looked into your eyes. Something about her was familiar.  

You aimed for her leg, shooting it as she screeched in pain, retreating back. 

“Occidere,” your eyes turned black, as you looked at the Darach. You heard her whisper something. There it was again, that familiar feeling.

You felt something painful hit your stomach, as you dropped your gun. You dropped to your knees, gasping for air as you put your hand on your chest, seeing blood seeping through your clothes As you looked up, she disappeared.

“(Y/N)?” Chris ran to your side, throwing his gun down.

“She reflected the spell… how did she do that?” you wheezed as more and more blood dripped from your wound.

“What the hell just happened?” Allison and Isaac ran to the two of you.

“We need to get you to a hospital… or something,” Chris said, wrapping his arm around your back.

“No, I-I’m fine. J-Just give me a minute,” you exhaled sharply.

“(Y/N), you’re bleeding a lot. Y-You can’t heal yourself,” Isaac said frantically, holding your hand.

“I said I’m fine. G-Give me your scarf,” you turned to him.

He quickly took it off, handing it to you. You pressed it against your wound, wincing.

“H-He’s dead. That means there’s only one more sacrifice,” you said.

You stood up shakily, using Isaac for support. 

“I’ll take you home,” Isaac said.

“I just need some bandages, it’s not that bad… doesn’t the school have some performance tonight?” you asked, taking deep breaths.

“Yeah, they do. (Y/N), you’re really hurt,” Allison began.

“Okay, so we just need to get to the school, and keep our eyes on all the teachers,” you explained.

“Isaac, get her help. (Y/N), you’re going to bleed out,” Chris said to you.

“I said I’m fine. M-Me and Isaac will meet you at the school,” you leaned onto Isaac, as he gave you a soft look, walking with you.

---

“Stop here,” you said, feeling yourself get slightly dizzier.

“No, we’re going to the hospital,” Isaac shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road.

“No, we’re not. We need to get to the school. Pull over. It’s a drugstore,” you pointed out.

You sat slumped in the seat, barely sitting up, pressing Isaac’s scarf against your wound. 

“(Y/N), no. You’ll bleed out! You need help!” Isaac yelled slightly.

“Isaac, pull the fucking car over!” you yelled, as he slammed the breaks, turning to you as his eyes were bloodshot.

“No! I-If you bleed out, if you die,” he started.

“I won’t, Isaac. Please, pull over,” you said, voice lowering.

“What if you die? Please, let me take you to the hospital,” he said softly, eyes watering.

“I’ll be dead by the time we get there. You need to go into that drugstore, get a gauze pad, get some bandages, the wrap-around ones, get tape, get alcohol wipes,” you said.

“A-Alcohol wipes?” he questioned.

“Just do it, and do it now,” you winced slightly.

“O-Okay,” he nodded softly, quickly running into the store.

---

“You’re fucking insane,” Isaac whisper-yelled as the two of you walked into the school.

“It works, shut up,” you replied.

“You still have blood all over your clothes. And your hands,” Isaac pointed out.

“Give me your jacket,” you said.

He took off his jacket, handing it to you as you put it on, zipping it up.

“You’re too tall for your own good,” you said.

“Don’t even joke around right now, I’m pissed at you,” he replied.

You rolled your eyes, walking into the gym, immediately met with Chris’, Allison’s, and Scott’s glances.

“Just look around for anything suspicious,” you whispered to Isaac as he nodded.

You looked down at your phone, receiving a text from Scott.

“Text me if anything happens. Scott thinks Lydia’s in trouble,” you whispered to Isaac, leaving the gym, Scott behind you.

---

“Do you see anything?” Stiles said anxiously, biting his nails.

Scott looked around the outside of the school, using his werewolf eyes to try and find Lydia.

“I-I don’t know,” he said.

“You think she found a body?”  you turned to Stiles.

“I-I don’t know, but she can’t just disappear like that,” he replied. 

You heard someone screaming, as your eyes widened, looking back

“T-That’s her. That’s Lydia!” Stiles yelled.

The three of you ran back into the school, tracing Lydia’s voice to Jennifer’s classroom. You tensed up, clenching your jaw as the door slammed close in front of the three of you. She pushed the desk toward the door, blocking it, as you saw the same garrote she used to strangle the other teacher around Lydia’s neck.

Scott’s eyes glew yellow as he pushed the door trying to open it. You tried to keep your focus, knowing your stitches had opened back up slightly, feeling your head aching. 

“M-My dad…” Stiles said.

You looked up, looking inside the classroom, seeing Noah bent down on the floor, a knife stuck in his arm.

“Platentibus,” your eyes were black as you recited a spell, pushing open the door. You ran inside the classroom, Stiles, and Scott behind you. You looked to the side, seeing the broken window, Noah and Jennifer were both gone. Lydia cried softly, her arms and legs strapped against the chair. 

“You couldn’t have done that 10 seconds earlier?!” Stiles yelled as he turned to you.

Scott ran to Lydia untying her as she leaned against him.

“I’m sorry, I..” you started.

“She took my dad! S-She’s gonna hurt him!” he continued to yell at you.

“We’ll find a way to save him,” you tried to speak.

“We’ve been trying to save people, (Y/N)! Everyone’s dead! Everyone died! My dad’s gonna die too, and it’s gonna be your fault!” he yelled. 

You could feel your vision blur slightly, as you stumbled back a few steps, slightly hearing Stiles and Scott yelling at each other. You immediately knew that Derek needed to know, as you turned to the two of them.

“Where’s Cora. She can tell Derek, she’ll warn him,” you said.

Scott paused, looking at you.

“Cora’s… Cora’s in the hospital,” he started.

You felt your heart ache as your eyes immediately watered.

“W-What do you… What happened?” you asked.

“She went after Aiden for killing Boyd, and he hurt her,” Scott explained softly.

“New plan then. You two go tell Derek, you have to get to him before Jennifer does, okay?” you asked.

“Wait, what about you? You’re not going to come with us?” Stiles turned to you.

“No, I-I’m gonna take Lydia home and then go to Cora,” you shivered slightly.

Scott frowned, sniffing as his face went pale.

“You’re bleeding,” he said softly.

“No, it’s fine, I’m okay,” you shook your head.

“What do you mean you’re bleeding? What happened?” Stiles asked anxiously.

“I said I’m fine. We don’t have time for this! We have to go now,” you held Lydia’s arm, walking her to your car before driving off.

---

You tapped your foot anxiously, sitting on a chair next to Cora’s bed while you held her hand. As you walked into the hospital, Melissa immediately noticed your bleeding, helping you. You sniffled softly, eyes watering as you closed your eyes softly.

“You look worse than me,” she croaked softly, as you immediately looked up at her.

“H-How are you feeling?” you asked softly.

“It hurts,” you could see her visibly sweating.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you heard her voice crack.

“Why did you go after him?” you whispered.

“He killed my friend. I wasn’t gonna leave him,” she replied.

“It was stupid,” you sniffled, running your fingers through your hair.

“Y-You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure this out,” you bit your lip.

She hummed softly, closing her eyes once again. You continued holding her hand, stroking it softly.

[smalltragedy]

* natalia dyer, nonbinary + she/they | you know philomena carmichael, right? they’re twenty-one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, a day? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to oo-de-lally by roger miller like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole wind whipping around your hair, the gentleness of decomposition, a naked blur dancing around the flames of an everlasting fire thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is april 20th, so they’re a taurus, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 22, est, they/them )

hiii im back ... tentatively .. looks at u all ominously

CANCER, TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION, DEATH, GRAPHIC MENTION OF DECAY, INSECTS MENTION TW.

mini playlist.

oo-de-lally / roger miller, wonderfully bizarre / bendigo fletcher, dust in your pocket / glass animals, gecgecgec / 100 gecs, nantes / beirut, cherry-coloured funk / cocteau twins, not allowed / tv girl, space song / beach house, dog food / 100 gecs.

statistics.

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, mena, etc.

birthday: april 20th, 2000.

zodiac: taurus sun, scorpio moon, aries ascending.

temperament: improvisor / phlegmatic.

label: the halycon.

sexuality: demisexual.

pinterest.

biography.

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are … eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

cancer tw // it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children … it doesn’t last for too long. end of cancer tw //

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena’s softer and feels…less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen … van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way.

during particularly desperate times, they two resorted to identity theft & credit fraud - getting away with it only by ditching the cards once they’ve made it out of state.

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

depersonalization / derealization tw // it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs. depersonalization / derealization end of tw //

death, decay. maggots tw // there is trauma though, deep-rooted but somewhere inside - you just have to look for it.

you. just. have. to. look. for. it. look for it. look for it. look for it look for it look -

you were ten and she was thirteen, an off-trail hike in familiar woods in a familiar town, safe and familiar. it was your idea, to stray from the carved out paths, down creeks and up hills and round, and round again. you’re the one who spotted the scarf first, sticking up from the dirt and dancing in the wind like the beginning of reincarnation. it was not reincarnation, it was discovery. it was ruin. with curiosity drawn, you skidded down - with compliance, followed juno, followed your sister - clumsy in her steps and tumbling down quicker than you. you saw the corpse, but juno felt it. decaying flesh and maggot. end of death, decay, maggots tw //

and she left juno, just like that - just five years later, when juno had finally gone to the end of her wits. philly up and left. abandoned her.

philomena and elektra leave the city after that therapy session. they do not return. she’s always been good at hiding her secrets.

after ending up with warrants from their arrest in florida (after running from the law in texas), philly and elektra have wound up at irving <3 partially hiding from the law and partially bcos their trusty van’s broken down and they haven’t got the money to fix her up yet.

personality & facts.

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon.

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been.

currently living in florence, their van, with her sister elektra <3 currently residing in lilac ridge.

they used to live in motels on the occasion, the cheapest room, and more often than not they’d both go home with strangers for a comfier bed and a hotter shower.

it was a common occurrence - she didn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weaseled her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her. (smirks at leo)

will consume anything you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her. third favorites? florence, of course. fleetwood mac. the bird and the bee.

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggling.

also, accordion.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

( like her frequent visits to the woods, late at night when the moon is high and full. it’s freeing to dance around a fire, stark naked in the cold. builds immunity )

comes and goes wherever she pleases, nothing & nobody can stop her (besides elektra).

has a certain knack for getting animals to like her. has too many ‘pet’ rats that reside with her, alongside a baby raccoon & a few crow pals. has a new animal companion everyday, but she doesn’t contain them or force them to stay.

wanted plots.

speaking through my third eye ... ;; philly is new in town n shes very strange. constantly lives in a state in which she does not exist (at least on the same plane). this is her harassing the locals. this is her slipping thru their fingertips as they attempt 2 understand her. they get close smtms bt philly jst. whisks herself away.

hollows of our eyelids ... ;; perhaps there is smbdy jst as strange as philly. i’m out here calling fr all the weirdos. lets be friends. lets hv philly n co go on adventures n discover horrible sites n uncover ancient secrets tht lie deep below irving. mayb nt tht. bt im jst saying. this is fr the dreamers. da weirdos. the jugheads. LHKDSHFSADLKGFHLSKADG fr those who also feel as if they r not real.

bills n aches n blues... ;; ya this is my call fr all negative plots. bills (catching philly be a thief and a fraud), aches (mayb heartache? unrecruited feelings or w/e theyre called?), n blues (ooooh so sad... so sad ... angst ...) obviously i am a genius. i wldnt say tht philly is here 2 make enemies bc philly doesnt care much abt ppl bt perhaps tht cld b an issue. tht she doesnt care much abt others. mayb ur muse is jst like. cn u pls care. n philly is like. i am incapable. sry. sucks.

n also ,, ;; like. anything i’ll. take anything. philly is weird lets come up w surreal plots tht verge on the edge of like. nt being correct fr this verse. suddenly theres vampires? or so they think ... smirks. anyways. shes been 2 jail n been in the circus n dances naked in the woods n hoards animals n treasures. we hv a lot to work with here obv.