#trigging memories

[ghostofthegallows]

"You can't summon a dead fandom with one image"

....

[pantestudines]

While this is ghoulish, something about it feels right. Like this would of course happen. Built into the fabric of society.

[ilovetobiko]

i know this is gonna sound super unrelatable because i always felt like a freak for it— but was/is anyone else super sensitive to redesigns of their fave characters? voice changes and director changes were also sometimes very serious to me.

growing up was really weird because other kids seemed to embrace new gens of shows i liked very easily while i was outwardly angry with all the changes

i remember three shows hitting really hard: Strawberry Shortcake 2009, MLP G4, and especially Powerpuff Girls 2016, which i’d always considered myself the franchises biggest fan…

even now those redesigns make me cringe and upset me, but they were also hugely embraced that when people my age talk about them, those were the nostalgic ones. it’s a very weird feeling, something i used to attribute to me growing up poor and owning episodes/movies of those shows exclusively on VHS, even if i did eventually have cable

(i was like ‘saturday affirmations: i am the victim. i am the victim. i am the victim’)

i remember in third grade proudly announcing during lunch that i don’t like the strawberry shortcake redesign, and the boy instructing the hangman game made a joke about how i must be old, because i like outdated things (this was after i’d freshly discovered original strawberry, i mentioned she’s way cuter in the 80s or something) and feeling really ashamed

obviously i’m not ashamed anymore but it still feels really weird, like i missed out on something because i preferred designs i was already really familiar with rather than embrace new ones.

growing up was so strange and lonely but i don’t think i could control what i felt, because i still feel the same way. i try not to get visibly upset when someone buys me 2016 powerpuff girls, but they notice every time. it’s so frustrating

[bobzora]

guys i really do not know trigonometry

[hearts4werka]

Missing

Summary: it’s been six months since your sister went missing, everyone gave up on the investigation but you’re determined to find her no matter what but someone comes along the way… Genre: ANGST first person pov, Stalker, missing person, thriller, horror, crime investigation, dark aesthetic, stalker romance, double pov, b&e, unexpected visitor, dark themes, Warnings: breaking in, abuse, use of weapons, being held hostage, ?depression?, mental health issues, swearing, pet names (little monster), skin bruising, fighting, ?suggestive content?, traumatizing, possibly trigging subjects, ass content ahead and ofc Read At Your Own Risk!

This is part 4 of the 'Missing' series!

🤍 - Rosalla's POV

I wish she was here with me.

Memories of me and her flood my mind like a tsunami hitting a building, all of the moments I'll cherish for all of my life, with or without her. I've cried over her multiple time since her disappearance and I have to get my shit together and figure out how to report that stalker of mine to the police again, I still cannot believe that my stalker have gone to the point to break into my house and do unspeakle acts between my legs.

My mind keeps on denying the fact that I possibly enjoyed the acts he has done, I havent been able to feel safe in my own house for these past months ever since. Today though the feeling seems to be intensified as I constantly feel a pair of eyes following my every move like everyday but they feel like they're coming closer to me.

I gaze around my surroundings, my mind trying to make me think im not actually going insane and that there is something lurking in the shadows of my own house, before I could get completely dragged into the dark shadows of my mind it has created my cat Willow comes up purring, petting herself on my leg and silently demaning some sustenance in the form of cat food.

A soft chuckle rumbles in my throat at her clear attention seeking attitude, finding it slightly adorable as I rise from my seat and my feet slide over the tile floor under them as I travel into the kitchen. I squat down and take the cat's food bowl into my hand but a simple ring of the front door doorbell catches me off guard as I am not expecting anyone currently nor any packages.

Confusion contours my facial features as my eyes move towards the front door where the noise is coming from, maybe a possible unexpected guest decided to visit my household today? but who could it be? questions begin to rise in my already spiraling mind which only overweighs the other thoughts stuck inside of my head.

I stand up onto my feet and make my way towards the door with upkept caution to not let the person on the other side of the door know that I am trying to figure out who it could be, making as less noise as it is humanly possible in the moment ive been placed in right now, checking through the peephole I dont find what ive expected to be on the other side.

Twisting the house key in the keyhole of the door and grabbing ahold of the doorhandle I swing it open and scan my eyes around the surrounding nature on the front porch and find once again nothing and am only met with my black doormat with "Welcome!" written across it in white bold letters.

My anxiety rises onto a higher level than it was already on before with the growing questions slowly starting to cloud my mind alongside the shadows, I walk back to my living room and notice Willow ran off somewhere and isnt near me anymore, not thinking much about it when I finally find myself back in the living room i notice a strangely familiar man sitting on my couch with his body facing me and Willow snuggled into his lap as he pets her spine with his heavily tattoed arm.

My body instantly responds to the sudden intruder inside of my house by freezing inplace and refusing to move from my standing form, laborthed sharp breaths leave my mouth as I silently observe the surely unexpected guest inside of my house acting way to calm for my liking, not seeming like the hostile type and more on the kinder side which doesn’t make me feel better about this whole situation.

"Look who decided to join us, welcome Rosalla" He speaks in a calm, almost soothing tone while his gaze visibly runs up and down my frozen body as I notice a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth under the hood that’s currently concealing the upper half of his face.

As much as I would love to just rip that hood off his face and take Willow away from him I can’t move my body no matter how hard I try, it’s like my body turned into a stone statue in a museum in the section of Ancient Greece but the only thing is that I am in my house currently with what could have the possibility to be my stalker.

“W-who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house?” I trip over my words as he suddenly rises from his seat and slowly makes steps closer towards me, I continue to stand in place with my mind becoming a bigger scramble and pleading for my body to move or do something rational and not just stand in place like a fucking idiot.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not here to harm you in any way.” He calmly teased, I already could feel his hot breath hitting my skin and goosebumps growing all over my body. His slender form looms over me as the heavily tattooed arm reaches over and brushes against my chest before roughly grabbing my chin and making me look up at him.

“I’m going to enjoy ruining you, little monster.”

“Fuck you.”

“That as well.”

I roll my eyes at him and finally manage to make my first move, grabbing his hand and digging my nails into his inked skin to leave a mark as I push it away from my chin, freeing my face from his tight grasp and automatically taking a cautious step backwards.

"You're a sick bastard if you think I'll let you anywhere near me." I bite back, now slowly regaining back my confidence and movement capability, now running into the kitchen as he calls out from the hallway. “You’re running already? We haven’t even started the real fun yet.” I notice the slight venom between the ‘innocent’ words which makes a shiver run down my spine.

When he finally catches up to me in the kitchen I quickly open one of the drawers with all of the kitchen knifes residing inside of it and take one of the bigger ones out of it, holding it up for him to see and pointing the sharp tip of it in his direction for any possible protection I could get out of it, he stands infront of me on the other side of the kitchen island.

"Back off, bitch." I state with warning lacing my tone as my confidence rises more and the fear now lowering to a smaller level with a calming shiver washing over my body. The only reaction I manage to gauge out of him is a sinister laugh and his smirk intensifying in growth, as if he wasnt comprehending the fact that a kitchen knife resides in my hand.

"You're gonna try to fight me off with that? how cute." He mocks my choice of protection, as if he has anything on himself. He's helpless right now while the knife stays clutched in my hand, well if you discard the fact he has strong arms and could probably snap me in half with just a flick of his fingers which doesnt help with my already high anxiety level.

Before I get to think and appreciate I have the possible high ground in this situation he quickly makes his way towards me which makes me sprint out of the kitchen and back into the living room with him right on my ass behind me, suddenly as Im running away from him a strong calloused hand slams me into the nearby wall and the pain spreads across the whole upper part of my body, a line of curses leaves my mouth in one painful groan.

“You think you can run from me?” He mocks my attempt on trying to escape his wrath, the hand where the knife resided in is currently pinned against my back. The vice grip he has on my hand makes me drop the knife, it hitting the floor with a loud thud which makes me groan in the increase of the immense pain I already feel all over my body.

“You are mine and only mine, if any other men try to even get close to you. I won’t fucking hesitate to kill them and bury them in your backyard for a little reminder who you belong to.”

I try to wiggle my way out of the trap I’ve been placed in, squirming in pain as I feel multiple bruises growing and starting to adore the surface of my skin, and I was out here thinking I had the high ground in this situation against a man thats clearly way stronger, taller and surely has some tricks up his sleave when I have now none since my item for protection has now ended up on the floor and I cannot move to pick it up because of the position Im in.

Suddenly, I feel cold metal being pressed against the back of my head and the fear rises back inside of me as I realize what is currently being held against my head. My breathing becomes labored as he brings his face closer to my ear, his breath hot against the shell of my ear which sends a shiver running down my spine before whispering. “You look so adorable all scared and terrified.”

“I’m gonna call the police on you and they’ll put you finally where you belong.” I hiss through my gridded teeth, fear being evident in my voice which it seems only fuels him to continue through with his actions, the cold metal barrel sliding down my back and tapping the back of my thighs, asking for them to move apart but with how they’re trembling right now I doubt there are going to move in any moment.

“And you think they’ll believe any word you say about this? You can call them all you want but just know, you’ll never get rid of me, little monster.” A chuckle rumbles in his throat and escaping past his lips at my words, him mocking me once again and assuring me I’ll never be able to get rid of him. It’s already been over five months and I the police haven’t even found one trace of finding out this man’s identity and neither did I, he seems like just an everlasting shadow that’s just stuck in your mind that you can’t get rid of.

We hear the front doorbell ring and realization hits me, I remembered my best friend Nora was supposed to visit today to check in on my sanity and how I’m holding up. She visits me whenever she can borrow the time and she makes it her priority to see me atleast once every few days which I appreciate her for so much and can’t thank god that she decided to come at this rightful time.

Before I can realize it, the man releases me from his grasp and the cold gun is taken away from my body and I feel slight relief as my body slides against the wall and down onto the cold floor of my house as the doorbell rings again and we hear Nora call out my name form behind the door. “Hey Ro, you good in there? I heard fighting inside.”

As soon as the front door cracks opens and Nora steps foot into the house, the man is gone. No trace left behind of him, only me sitting on the floor and clutching my body as if it would fall apart if I let go. Nora immediately runs up to my trembling form and envelops me into her warm arms, her face contoured with confusion as she finally speaks up.

“What the fuck happened here?”

@hearts4werka

authors note: omfg the end is so rushed and I’m so so sorry that y’all needed to wait so long for this but I’ve been focused on some of the other fics and my mind was so empty when I was writing this so some sentences might repeat, I hope the wait was worth it but I kinda doubt it. Luv y’all so much

& love and peace, V

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[mybedroomceilingsbored]

i'm in the bushes outside. with binoculars :)

but honestly-thanks haha!! no clue where i picked half this stuff up, but wow! glad you like it!

*voila*

i'm probably waaaay off haha! but this is more or less how i picture you :)

(also imagine that tooth thing is the necklace i'm like 70% sure you've mentioned wearing)

This is. Very very accurate. Like, I have no notes. My glasses are very similar, my eyebrows are a lighter shade than my hair cause I don’t dye em, I’ve got freckles and wide watery eyes

This is very very impressive it’s actually crazy

[comicaurora]

Are you willing to make a long personal post about how Math should be presented in an educational environment or in general conversation trying to convince the other participants about its daily usage. How it can advance a person’s problem-solving skills and approach in life.

I’m really good in Mathematics. I’ve given help for my classmates and friends about Math when they are having trouble or ask for it. But I have never been convinced of its importance outside of the classroom, outside of the test papers that gives me the variables to substitute in the given equation of that test of the day.

How can Math and it’s many properties relate back to everyday life in a casual manner?

Hm. Well, as someone who hasn't had to solve an antiderivative in years, my perspective on this is that the most important and widely-applicable skill math can teach you is the stuff behind the math - mostly the muscle-memory you get from proofs.

Math is, at its core, puzzles and logic and pattern-recognition. You learn a set of tools, you practice those tools on a set of simple problems until you get a feel for them, you are presented with a bigger problem, you recall which tools best applied to problems that are shaped like this, you break the problem down using your tools and eventually reduce it to something you know how to solve.

The fact of the matter is, the tools that are specific to branches of math don't really have much widespread use outside pure mathematics, and unless you go out of your way to keep using them you're likely to lose track of them. Studying math is not going to turn you into a super-calculator-wizard who can bounce stuff off the walls at perfect angles and do six-figure arithmetic in seconds, and I think some people feel overwhelmed at the assumption that that's what's expected of them if they learn math, and some other people feel cheated when they learn that that's absolutely not going to happen, because most writers don't know math and when they tell stories with math in them their best guess is it makes you a wizard.

I think the most advanced math I've used lately was trigonometry, and that was just because I was curious about how fast my plane was traveling relative to the sun's apparent movement at my latitude. We were flying back to the US from Iceland and we'd taken off at sunset, and we had been in that sunset for at least an hour by the time I got curious how the math worked out and started estimating our latitude, the circumference of the slice of the earth at that latitude, and correspondingly how fast we were flying vs how fast it was spinning to complete a full rotation in 24 hours. But even if the math involved didn't tap into any of the higher-level stuff I'd learned post-trig, those years doing proofs and figuring out which tools applied to which geometry meant that I could use the tools and my training applying those tools to calculate what I wanted to know, and confirm that our plane was actually outflying the sun when we were at iceland latitude, but as we curved south the sun's apparent relative movement (aka the rotational speed of that latitude of the earth) slowly accelerated until we were falling behind, landing right as the sun finally set. The math involved was high school level, but if I'd been given that problem in high school it would've taken more work and more stress to figure out how the tools I had needed to be applied to the problem I was facing. The years of practice I had tackling much more complicated proofs made the diagnostic process much faster.

I saw someone once analogize studying math to lifting weights. Where am I going to use this in real life? How often will I really be faced with two dumbbells that need to be lifted in three sets of twenty? Where am I going to apply the skill of holding a heavy thing straight out to one side of my body?

You don't lift weights because lifting weights is such a valuable and widely-applicable skillset, you do it because lifting weights makes you better at lifting everything.

You don't study math because math is going to fill your daily life with concepts that you need to prove true for 1 and for n+1 given true for n, or complex solids that you need to sum an approximate volume for, or a surplus of sunset plane flights that demand you calculate a bunch of cosines. You study math because it is the skillset of making things make sense. It trains you to break a huge, incomprehensible problem down into a series of small problems you already know how to solve. It lets you reach true and correct conclusions by starting from facts and transforming them through operations that preserve truth, and correspondingly that if you reach a false conclusion from these methods, then either the methods are flawed or the initial assumption is not as true as you believed. It teaches you to put two and two together and be confident, once you've double-checked your work, that you can say four.

This is stuff I use all the time in both my video research and my freeform writing. Building out a slow picture of how a story was told or changed over time involves finding the context it was created in, and reverse-engineering what parts of that context could have produced what standout portions of the story - what authorial or cultural bias results in this standout story element. Worldbuilding where I take two wildly disparate parts of the world, put them together and see what web of implications springs out of combining them, following the threads to new and interesting concepts that follow from what I've already established. Building a character arc by breaking down exactly what events are happening to them and what transformation each component will apply to the underlying character. If I want the story to go in a certain direction, what transformations do I need to apply to make that happen while still preserving truth? If I'm faced with a seemingly insurmountable problem, what methods can I use to break it down into bite-sized pieces?

This isn't something I think about most of the time. It's just how my brain works at this point, and I can't promise it'd work for anyone else. But thanks to all my years of hard work and training, my brain has been buff enough to solve every problem I've tangled with since graduation, and that feels pretty good.

[gwydionmisha]

Musk was angry Michael Whitaker had grounded his unsafe Space X rockets and correctly ordered an investigation after this happened:

Remember that time Reagan fired all the experienced Air traffic controllers and hired scabs and the rate of plane crashes went up for years?

[spn-con-cliffnotes]

SPN Nash 2024 gold panel

Would you consider doing any more horror movies? What are somethings you liked or miss about the genre? (3:30)

Jen: likes the genre, if opportunity arises then yeah. depends on if a) comes our way b) good project and c) available. depends largely who's involved, and budget size are very telling of quality of project. So close to doing a movie 1-2 years ago (really fun), didn't end up doing it for a variety of reasons, still hasn't watched it (proceeds to say "son of a bitch!"😂).

Jar: they are difficult to film: night filming (6pm-6am)

2. (Christmas question) Do you consider Die Hard Christmas movies? (7:56)

Jar: yeah...

Jen: any movie that takes place during the holidays is a christmas movie!! what's your go-to top 3 *to Jared*:

Jar: love actually, home alone, Christmas vacation

Jen: Jim Carrey's Grinch, Elf, Christmas Vacation. Krampus parade in European countries (speaking of horror), it looks like the orcs from lotr and "the scariest shit i've ever seen"

3. (pt 1: Do y'all drink whiskey?) (11:00) (pt. 2 Least fav memory filming spn?) (11:43)

Jen: "Do you have a question? I mean I guess the quesiton was 'do you drink whiskey' and now i'm holding a bottle in my hands." (11:30) "Should've just stuck with the whiskey question"

Jen: thinks for a minute the entire filming of bugs...

Jar: there was a bee wrangler

4. (16:50) senior in high school asking fav high school memory?

Jar: kind of about the people you stay in touch with. (it may change) and graduation "its been 13 years of your life; almost as long as supernatural" ties it to optimism of next chapter in life

Jen: A in trig (did not deserve) they went to huge high schools. got bullied by upperclassman when younger. getting through it and knowing some people that also experienced it sticks with you for the rest of your life; really special thing. "you only do this high school thing once, get as much as you can out of it"

5. (22:53) Have you ever used a ouija board irl?

Jar: not really?

Jen: used dowsing rods recentlly-ish in his house.

6. (25:17) Favorite meta time in Spn?

Jar: french mistake! (thought it was the end of the show)

Jen: likes the breaking of 4th wall *wink wink nudge nudge at Kripke)

7. (29:48) Jared drinking prop eggnog.

[suzukiblu]

Guessing game: Farm

Context: a familial soulmates AU is happening to newly-decanted baby clone "Superman" and Ma and Pa "it's free alien baby" Kent.

The waitress comes back with the drinks and asks if they're ready to order, and then they have to actually read the menu. She leaves them to it. The Zesti does taste really good, but Superman has a hard time concentrating on the menu and barely resists the urge to glance up at Jonathan and Martha every five seconds.

"Oh, wait–can you read yet, kiddo, or do you need some help with that?" Jonathan asks with a faint frown as he glances up at him himself, and somehow the question doesn't sound judgmental at all.

Weird, Superman thinks again.

"Yeah," he says. "Um–Cadmus was educating me with information uploads. I didn't finish them, but I can read and write and do, like . . . well, some math, anyway. I got through trig and precalc, mostly. Uh, and some chemistry and biology. And, like, I can speak English and Spanish and a little Mandarin, and I know basic ASL. I don't think I'm actually as smart as they thought I was gonna be, though, some of it's kinda . . . confusing, to be honest? And they only ever showed me stuff once, I think they just thought I'd . . . you know, get it."

"You're two weeks old!" Martha says with an exasperated huff. "Those damn morons, you're gonna need a lot more than two weeks' worth of yellow sun before you're going to get the eidetic memory or the enhanced intelligence."

"The–what?" Superman blinks. Jonathan and Martha glance at each other, oddly, and then back to him.

"Superman had perfect recall," Jonathan says. "Hyperthymesia. A photographic memory, you might call it."

"Oh," Superman says, blinking again. "Uh–I didn't know that."

"I don't know how much most people ever thought about it, so far as his powers went," Jonathan says with a shrug. "Not quite as flashy as the heat vision or the flying. Actually it's a surprise you can fly this quick, come to think."

"I'm sort of . . . cheating," Superman mutters, ducking his head. "My Kryptonian physiology isn't developed enough to give me the real powers yet and they didn't know how long it might take for them to come in, so they sort of . . . there's like this . . . field, kind of, that the original Superman put off? Subconscious telekinesis, I guess. Skin-tight force field, basically. It's why bullets weren't ripping up his suit all the time and why he could, like, pick up a whole freaking bus or whatever one-handed and it wouldn't just break in half from the fucked-up–uh, the messed-up support. The field would just wrap around whatever he was touching and reflexively keep it together. So Cadmus just kinda . . . copied that and cranked it up to eleven, for me. So I'm telekinetic, kind of?"

"Huh," Martha says, looking a little puzzled. "You know, that never even occurred to me, but it certainly explains a few things."

"It only works when I'm touching something," Superman says, fidgeting uncomfortably and feeling kind of like . . . well, he guesses his powers not being the same as the original Superman's were yet isn't gonna disappoint the Kents, right? Like, why would they care? "It's tactile-based. But I can always use it on myself. So I can fly and pick up real heavy shit and hit like I've got super-strength and make it look like I'm invulnerable. No heat vision or ice breath or X-ray vision or, uh, eidetic memory, though. Or super-speed or super-senses."

And definitely, definitely no enhanced intelligence.

"So you mean you're going to be stronger than Superman was?" Martha asks with a little frown, and Superman . . . blinks.

"Uh . . . I don't think so?" he says uncertainly, not sure where she got that idea. "I don't know how the hybridization of my DNA will affect, like . . . any of the Kryptonian powers. They might turn out weaker than his were, since my genes are sort of already adapted for a yellow sun."

"I don't know, being primed to process yellow sunlight might make your powers end up stronger, on that logic," Jonathan points out reasonably. "Once you grow into them a bit, anyway. And either way you'll have the telekinesis enhancing your strength and invulnerability, and that might get stronger too. And, well, at least some hybrids have a tendency to turn out bigger and stronger than their parent species."

Superman tilts his head. Blinks a couple times.

"Huh," he says.

Well, there's a really freaking cool and absolutely fucking terrifying thought.

"How do you know all that?" he asks. "Are you a biologist or something?"

"I'm a farmer, son," Jonathan says wryly. "I'm talking about mules and wolfdogs."

"You're a farmer?" Superman repeats in absolute bemusement.

"We both are, dear," Martha says. "All our lives. We live out in Smallville, actually, we're just here visiting . . . well. Clark's fiancée. Her name is Lois."

"Where's Smallville?" Superman asks, still bemused.

"Kansas," Martha says. "We have a little farm out there. And . . . well, we'd very much like to take you in, obviously, though I don't know where you're staying right now."

"Just, like–wherever, right now," Superman says awkwardly, trying not to sound as pathetic as he's pretty sure he does even as he wonders how that's supposed to be "obvious". He's not, like, a little kid or anything. It's not like he can't take care of himself. "Like, it's not really . . . just wherever."

Jonathan and Martha glance at each other. Superman feels embarrassed. It's not like it matters where he's staying, and like, he'll find a place, eventually, just . . . he hasn't quite figured out how to do that yet. That's all.

Cadmus, unfortunately, did not prepare him to ever live . . . well. Outside of Cadmus.

"Would you like to visit, at least? Take a look around?" Jonathan offers. "It's not too far a flight from Metropolis."

"Um . . . maybe," Superman says, really not sure what he'd ever do on a farm of all places. Like, in what way is a farm a "Superman" kind of place to be?

Though he guesses it'd be politer than making Jonathan and Martha come to Metropolis. And if they actually . . . if they really want to see him . . .

He could swing by sometimes, that's all. He guesses he'd have to be careful about doing it because probably the Kents aren't gonna want anybody to know they're his soulmates, given the whole "being civilians" thing. Maybe he can just . . . just pretend to be . . . he doesn't know, exactly? Just–maybe some random distant relative or something. Maybe they have some cousins or whatever. Or just . . . something.

Superman actually has no idea how many people hang out with their extended family members like that, to be honest, but it's the best idea he's coming up with right now.

[zoandreez]

can you meet me by the lake ? ☆.｡*‧₊˚

pairing: neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan x omaticayan!reader

summary: you were best friends with neteyam. you just wanted to see him, but his future olo'eyktan duties seem to interfere everytime you wish to.

word count: 855

warnings: angst? fluff resolve, reader has a name because who i look like calling you "why slash en"

a/n: apologies for my absence but unless you wanna do my trig and ap euro homework for me id rather you just wait

The memory of meeting Neteyam would forever be etched in yor mind. Back then, you were just young children. On this day, or at least the time you two met, your objective was to collect rocks for your songcord after your latest triumph: using your father's bow and arrow to hunt your first fish. So there you were in the forest, picking up rocks as you went along.

The forest hummed with life around you, as you scoured the ground around a lake for clear purple stones. It was in the middle of you turning around to examine a reflection that caught your eye when you collided into a little boy. Your newfound treasures fell to the floor, the two of you quickly dropping to retrieve them.

"Sorry!" The boy said, bubbling enthusiasm escaping from his voice. He was normally this excited, as you saw him one time with his mother, with the same infectious smile he had on his face right now.

His excitement quickly turned to curiosity as he noticed a clear rock on the floor you were reaching for. He quickly turned his attention to you, eyes filled with wonder. "Hey, where'd you get these from? They look so cool!" His admired eyes made you smile shyly, before you turned to the nearby lake.

"There's a small cave right beneath the waterfall. The water cleans the rocks and makes them look clear." Following your gaze, the boy spotted the delicate cascade of water descending from above. He quickly grabbed your hand, and tugged you along.

"Show me!"

The two of you spent the rest of the day carefully cradeling each rock, like its own jewel, inside the bioluminescence-filled cave. It lightly shimmered off the reflection of the sun as the two of you collected rocks to your hearts desire, falling asleep together. When you woke up, Neteyam was gone, but in his place sat a beautiful blue rock.

Even if you grew older, and life's responsibilites cast their shadows, this one day showed the two of you that you'd be best friends forever, and nothing will get in the way of that.

That's what you thought, at least.

You spent the day at the lakeside, a place that had become almost ritualistic in its significance. It had been a familiar route since your childhood, following the same trees past the same leaves, and meeting the same boy everyday. At fifteen, both you and Neteyam had grown considerably, trying to balance adolensence and responsibility.

Eventually, the process became the same, except most of the time, that "same boy" wasn't there.

Neteyam had three siblings. He took responsibility for every one of them, a "third parent," even. However, this often pulled him away, and your encounters became infrequent. It was almost as if life demanded you two apart, whether it was the call of duty to the Sky People war, or the need to watch Lo'ak due to his impulsive behaviors.

The sun taunted you, sitting right above you with warmth over the lake, turning the familiar mist into glistening droplets. It was enough to lightly heat the lake's usual icy bite, savoring the setting without somewhat freezing. Time had stretched longer than usual, as you held out hope for your best friend to make it. A promise he had made to you kept you lingering. Your emotions were not tinged with anger towards Neteyam; rather, a subdued disappointment hung in the air, a consequence of the inconvenience his tardiness had caused.

Eventually, you surrendered to your cracked heart, rising from the rock you were perched on. It was then that your gaze met his—the wide, yellow eyes that held both familiarity and apology. Neteyam's voice broke the silence, carrying a note of regret that underlined his words.

"Sai'tara," he addressed you, his voice evident with disappoiment. You could tell he scolded himself for allowing time to slip through his fingers, and his eyebrows furrowed with hurt when he saw your belongings clutched in your hand, a sign of your preperation to leave.

"Hey 'teyam," you muttered in response, your enthusiasm muted. His tardiness had cast a shadow over your usual excitement. Strangely, his presence seemed to amplify your frustration rather than soothe it. You noted the exhaustion etched into his features—the half-lidded eyes, the sunken bags beneath them, and a posture that bore the weight of something more than just his physical being.

The air was heavy with unspoken words, a silence that held the unaddressed tension between you two. "Listen, I'm sorry I'm late," he began, his voice tinged with a plea for understanding. "You know how it is, with Lo'ak being an idiot all the time—"

"Yeah yeah," you interjected. You didn't necesarily have time for him and his late antics. You completely understood his responsibilities, but they just didn't intertwine with your desires. It wasn't resentment that colled your emotions, but longing to just see your best friend.

His lips parted, ready to speak, but closed them once again. He walked up to you, saying nothing. He wrapped his arms around your waist before he melted into you. You shouldn't be accepting his embrace, your mind still distant from the idea of hanging out with Neteyam after it had been so long. But, for some reason..

Your arms slowly wrapped around him.

The remainder of the day flowed like a river of shared moments, laughter, and conversation. Neteyam's voice filled the air with his complaints about Lo'ak's antics, his exasperation giving way to your laughter. In turn, you poured out your own frustrations, venting about your sisters' tumultuous love lives, finding amusement in the way Neteyam's eyebrows would shoot up in response to your tales.

The small cave, the same one where your friendship had ignited all those years ago, bore witness to your conversations that traversed time and seamlessly picked up where they had left off.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows that danced across the cave's walls, the weight of the day's interactions finally caught up with you. The familiar fatigue tugged at your eyelids, and you found your head nestling against his shoulder. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the rhythm of his breath, provided an unexpected sense of comfort. In that cocoon of shared memories and newfound closeness, you succumbed to the embrace of sleep.

When your eyes fluttered open, it was to an empty space next to you. Neteyam was nowhere to be seen, his warmth and presence replaced by an echoing hollowness.

But then your gaze fell upon it—the necklace. Not just any necklace, but one that mirrored his own. The delicate beads held a pattern identical to his, though in lighter hues, and a small, carefully shaped rock took its place at the center.

A beautiful blue rock.

[hopeymchope]

"Mahjong Ronpa" is now live in English!

The Riichi City/Danganronpa crossover event, officially titled "Mahjong Ronpa," is now live in the English/North American version of the Riichi City app.

There IS a playable storyline here — it's not just a matter of some crossover characters being thrown into the standard game. And this story is, frankly, pretty wild for DR fans.

We play as Naegi, naturally. After awakening in the bizarre new environment of the Riichi City game, he finds he's lost a lot of important memories. But... not the same ones he lost in DR1.

Because this crossover takes place AFTER the events of DR1, and events/terms herein keep trigging vague recognition in Makoto's mind.

Which means it's pretty goddamn wild that some, er, decidedly deceased characters from DR1 are present and alive here. But... it's ultimately not like crossover events are strictly canon, so we probably shouldn't think too much about it. It's just really fun to TRY and fit this into logical continuity.

I suppose we could always just take Monokuma's claims about them traveling across space-time at face value, though?

The short of this story is that because of how this city and its inhabitants are hyperfixated on Mahjong, Naegi is quickly forced to learn the game and enter a tournament if he wants to earn his way towards getting home and/or figuring out how he even got here. After the tournament's semi-finals, though, he falls unconscious. He then awakens in a mahjong parlor room alongside Kyoko Kirigiri, Celestia Ludenberg, and Riichi City character Kanade Kokura (a blonde with two pigtails who is a fashionista/model... HMMMMMM). Makoto's momentary relief at seeing familiar faces is short-lived, because Monokuma appears on a monitor and tells the quartet that they've already completed the final game of the tournament — they've simply lost those memories. If they ever want to leave this room, Monokuma says they need to investigate it and determine who earned 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th among them. Since everything in this city revolves around Mahjong, he wants to see the grand despair of the person who learns they already lost but can't remember how it happened. ......................... Okay? Seems a little small-time for you-know-who's usual plots, but whatever.

The gameplay loop of the event requires you to play the main Mahjong tournament games to earn Monocoins, use those to get gifts from the MonoMono Machine, and then gift those items to the four trapped characters in order to help them complete an investigation and unlock Truth Bullets. Each one lets you participate in a "Match Debate" to discuss and determine the results of the game you've all forgotten. There's plenty of original DR1 soundtrack music to keep you in the mood.

AAAAAND that's pretty much it! I'll probably post more about this stuff as I get farther and unlock more scenes. The event is running through July 30th, 2024. Good luck out there.

[narwool]

Asakiku Week 2025 Day 4 - Secret

Day 4 ー Secret

Arthur and Kiku are just two ordinary university students who became friends with each other. And of course, Kiku's private little hobby is something that he'll take to the grave with him... Or at least, it was supposed to be something he took to the grave with him!

Kiku and Arthur had been friends for about a year at that point- they had met in their first year of university, and the two (somewhat) socially awkward boys had become fast friends. Both having an interest in literature and fantasy stories, they bonded quite quickly. And now, returning to university for their second year, both were excited to find out that their rooms were close to each other in the residence hall. 

As if to celebrate this fact, Arthur had been coming over to Kiku's room more and more lately. The two had been hanging out, and staying up far, far too late watching movies that could not be called good by any particular standards- even if they were, in some sense, enjoyable.

And really, life was good. They had adjusted to university, and both of them seemed to be content with where they were in life.

Well, maybe ‘content with’ wasn't the right phrase. After all, there was a bit of a problem… 

The problem being, that Kiku quite liked Arthur. 

Kiku was an exchange student that had come to London to study at university. Originally, he had only attended a university in England because he wanted to practice English via full immersion, and attending a business university in London achieved this purpose quite well. But, Kiku had spent enough time here that he had become unexpectedly attracted to a certain someone that he was friends with. 

And really there was nothing wrong with being attracted to someone, as long as you handled your attraction in an appropriate way… 

Keyword being appropriate.

You see, Kiku had a hobby, a hobby he'd had ever since he was in middle school. He liked to draw. It was nothing special really, and while he considered himself decent at it, he certainly couldn't be called an expert. He mostly preferred just using a pen or pencil on some paper. He wasn't much of a realist, and had only drawn yonkoma for most of his life. That was to say, if you had to give him any title as an artist, it might be better to say he was a mangaka, or a cartoonist. And while there was nothing wrong with that, Kiku had always wanted to dip his toes into realism, and now that he had some extra time in university, what better time than now to broaden his artistic horizons? He drew from some photos online, just using 2H graphite on a basic sketchpad. And those realistic sketches came out fine, but they were nothing to write home about. If he wanted to get good, if he wanted to get really good, maybe he should practice drawing from memory, as well?

So, Kiku drew the first thing that came to his mind: Arthur.

And the next day, he did the same thing.

And the next day, and the next day, and the day after that…

…It wasn't like he hadn't realized what was happening all along. Really, he knew it was getting bad. But when he counted them all up, over half of his sketchbook pages all had at least one drawing of Arthur… over half!!

Needless to say, this was a secret that Kiku had to take to the grave with him. It was one thing to draw someone you knew in passing… it was a whole other thing to fill an entire sketchbook with them.

Really, Kiku should have been throwing his pages out as he finished them. Then he could have avoided the whole mess. The mess also could have been avoided if he hadn't left the sketchbook open on his desk in his room, and then given Arthur his room key, asking him to go and pick up his trigonometry textbook and bring it to him before class. 

Where was his trigonometry textbook?

It had been left sitting neatly on top of his desk in his dorm, just like he said it would be.

Oh, if only he had remembered just what else he had left out that day. 

Even when Arthur failed to show up at their trig class, Kiku still hadn't remembered where he left his sketchbook yet- it didn't occur to him to even worry about it. Instead, he had only become worried about Arthur, who didn't tend to skip class, and certainly wasn't the type to forget about getting the trig textbook.

So what had happened? Kiku sat through trigonometry without his textbook, and without Arthur, completely unaware of what had occurred.

It was only after he texted Arthur asking if he felt okay, and not receiving a reply for several hours, that Kiku grew increasingly worried. Had he gotten sick? Had something bad happened to him? Did a family emergency come up that he had to attend to? Countless ideas rattled around in Kiku's head as to what could be the matter. Kiku was a bit of a worrier by nature, and when something actually concerning happened, he found it hard to keep from biting his nails- a bad habit he had since he was child.

What's more was, even if Kiku had wanted to ignore the situation he couldn't- Arthur still had his key, so he couldn't return to his own dorm. He would have to find Arthur no matter what.

At six in the afternoon, he finally got Arthur to pick up his phone after calling him three or four times. What Arthur said surprised him:

‘Meet me outside the classroom where we had accounting last term. I want to talk.’

Vague words like, ‘I want to talk,’ weren't great for a guy with an anxiety disorder, but Kiku was very good at keeping a stoic expression, even when he was panicking inside.

But even then, he had yet to remember where he had placed his sketchbook, and he hadn't a clue what Arthur wanted to talk about. 

Kiku arrived at the agreed location, and Arthur grabbed his hand, pulling him inside the currently empty classroom and shutting the door. Wordlessly, he opened his bag, and pulled out something that Kiku recognized in an instance: it was his own sketchbook.

Then, and only then, did Kiku remember just where he had left his sketchbook- beside his trigonometry textbook. He had left them sitting side by side. If someone wanted to pick up the textbook, it would be unavoidable that they would see the sketchbook.

Ah. So Arthur had seen it… what fucking terrible news. 

Kiku covered his hand with his mouth, he blanched as if he were suddenly sick. This was it- he had ruined a friendship. More than that, he had ruined a beloved relationship with someone who he had come to cherish dearly in his heart. All because he had become careless and left out such a strange sketchbook full of bizarrely romantic portraits of his best friend. There probably wasn't a person alive who wouldn't find such an obsessive amount of drawings creepy- and Kiku knew it. Even though he hadn't drawn Arthur in any way that was purposefully distasteful, the sheer amount of drawings alone made the matter unusual.

If Kiku was as pale as a ghost, then Arthur was on the opposite end of the spectrum and his face was a bright red color..

"I- I hadn't wanted to find it, y'know," Arthur started, holding the sketchbook out in vindication. Even though he attempted an assertive stance, he only had the nerve to face the window, not looking at Kiku directly. "What I mean is, I didn't go snooping through your things! You were the one who left it out, and I just happened to see-..."

'I just happened to see my own face staring back at me.'

He couldn't bring himself to say it. It was unmistakable, even if Kiku hadn’t been as skilled of an artist as he was, his likeness was unmistakable. Even if Arthur had wanted to deny the possibility that the boy in the drawing were himself, the sheer number of drawings only confirmed his suspicions as he had flipped through the sketchbook.

"H-how much did you see?" Kiku's voice sounded foreign to himself.

"Everything in this book."

Ah, this is bad.

Seeing Kiku's stunned face, Arthur continued, feeling as if he was the guilty party. "O-once I saw- once I saw that you had drawn me, I couldn't help it! I just, I just wanted to flip through it at first, but you- you really..."

'You’re really obsessed, you're really weird.’ 

…Is how Kiku interpreted his pause. 

And really, how else could it be interpreted? 

He had done something bad. He had made a trusted friend feel uncomfortable because of his strange impulses, and his capricious decisions had led to someone else's misery. It was selfish, and he was in the wrong.

Kiku dropped to his knees and bowed his head low, bowing in a full kowtow, as if he had committed some grievous sin.

"I'm sorry! I've been doing something so strange this whole time, and I've kept it hidden from you."

Kowtowing in apology wasn't even very common in Asian countries, these days, but for Arthur who was native only to the United Kingdom, this was his first time seeing such a thing, and he could only look at the boy at his feet with wide eyes.

"I won't ask for your forgiveness..."

"W-wait-! What are you doing!? Get off the floor!"

Arthur dropped to his knees, tossing the sketchbook on a nearby desk, he grabbed Kiku by the shoulders, forcing him to sit upright. Kiku was surprised that, when his head was raised, Arthur's face was one of frustration. He didn't understand its meaning, and figured that the frustration must be related to the sketchbook.

However, now the two were so close that their knees touched, and as if to keep him from bowing again, Arthur held on to his shoulders. This position was somewhat embarrassing, but neither one felt like he could untangle himself from the other.

Arthur spoke first, "H-How long...?"

He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't need to. Kiku answered, a guilty look on his face. "Every once in a while, for a few months now. I wanted to get more practice with drawing things other than comics..."

"And you decided to draw me?" 

Arthur's words had sounded more accusatory than he had intended, and Kiku apologized again.

"I'm sorry!"

It was like the two were in completely different conversations, Arthur knew this, but he could only shake his head, feeling overwhelmed.

"You know, you're a good artist, but your talent is wasted. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm flattered and all..." The words 'I'm flattered' surprised Kiku, but Arthur didn't notice this as he continued. "But I don't know why you would waste your time drawing someone as dumb looking as me..."

Kiku hadn't expected Arthur to criticize himself, and he shook his head fervently. "N-no way! What do you mean? You're a wonderful subject." 

Wait, that made it sound like Arthur was only an experiment to him. Kiku changed his words-

"No, I mean, you're gorgeous-"

...That didn't sound any better at all, that didn't sound any better at all!! What was he saying!?

Arthur's breath caught in his throat as Kiku said the word 'gorgeous.' He covered his mouth with his hand, his face burning.

Kiku wasn't in much better shape, himself. 

"I'm sorry, I just said something really weird. And what's more is, I've been drawing you without your knowledge," Kiku cast his eyes towards the floor, "It was wrong of me. You're probably really uncomfortable, right? If you don't want to remain friends after this, I won't blame you-"

"You idiot! Who said anything about us not being friends after this!?" Arthur exclaimed leaning towards Kiku, "I didn't say that! I mean, I- I do feel uncomfortable! But- but it's just, It's just-... Why? Why did you draw me?"

It was as if Arthur genuinely couldn't comprehend it. 

Kiku spoke softly, swallowing his embarrassment. "I said it earlier but, I really mean it. I think you're gorgeous. You're beautiful..."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about...?" Arthur murmured softly, as if he couldn't even articulate his disbelief.

"But it's true… Even before I started drawing you, I always thought that-... that you were beautiful."

"You're weird, you're so weird." Arthur finally let go of Kiku's shoulders and covered his face with his hands.

Even though he had been told not to, Kiku still ended up murmuring another apology.

"S-sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, but I think you should get better taste."

Arthur removed his hands from his face, shaking his head.

So it seemed that their friendship wasn't ruined. Although Kiku really had done something a bit bad by drawing his friend obsessively without his permission, in the end it seems like no real harm had come to him, even if he was a bit bashful at being called gorgeous. And now that the initial shock had worn off, relief flooded Kiku's body. That sketchbook had been something that he had intended to take to the grave with him, but now that Arthur had found out…

Well, it was actually somewhat of a relief. He no longer had to hide anything.

"Arthur, I promise I won't draw you anymore, since it makes you uncomfortable.”

Arthur was quiet for a moment, and when he finally did speak, his voice was soft. "You don't have to stop."

Kiku was stunned silent, and the look that he gave Arthur was so visceral, that he felt the need to repeat himself.

"You don't have to stop. If it makes you happy…” Arthur paused, his face slightly flushed, “Actually... Maybe I'm happy, too, a little bit. I mean, I don't get why you wanna draw me so badly, but I know you wouldn't have drawn me so many times if you didn't like it. So, if you want to keep doing it..." He covered his mouth with his sleeve as if he couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his own mouth, "Draw me as much as you like."

Kiku was overjoyed. "Thank you Arthur! I'll work hard so I can draw you even better!"

Seeing how happy he was, Arthur felt a strange feeling blossom in his heart. What was this feeling…? He couldn't explain it.

As if to distract himself from his own beating heart, Arthur spoke the first thing that came to his mind. "You know, you can draw me all you like but, if you want to draw something really beautiful, you should try drawing in front of a mirror sometime..."

"E-eh-?"

"Isn't it too sad? I-if you draw me by myself all the time...?" Arthur started slowly, "If you want to draw me so much, then, at least draw you next to me or something, so the drawing versions of me aren't so lonely..."

"Eh-?"

Having all the embarrassment he could take for one day, Arthur untangled himself from Kiku and stood up. He picked up his sketchbook and thrust it in his direction.

"Here. Now, why don't we go and get something to eat? You didn't have dinner, right?"

Kiku pushed himself to stand, and took his sketchbook back, tucking it under his arm. There was an odd look on both of their faces, but the feeling between the two of them had settled, for which Kiku was grateful. Of all the things that could have come from Arthur finding his sketchbook, being able to remain friends was more important than anything.

"Yeah, let's go eat." 

Kiku smiled and nodded. Arthur turned around, leading the way out of the classroom.

The two boys walked outside, the cool air nipping at their faces. To Kiku's surprise, he felt Arthur's hand bump into his own. As if on instinct, he wrapped his index finger around Arthur's pinky finger. Arthur didn't say anything, but he didn't pull his hand away.

Kiku looked at his face. One word came to his mind...

'Gorgeous.'

...

I didn't make them confess their love to each other, like I originally planned. I felt like that would be too sudden, and didn't fit the scene…. orz But still, I don't think they're going to go back to being 'ordinary' friends after this.

By the way, I posted this work on AO3 as well.

[mischiefmaker615]

A Loki request: Prompts: "Will you let me rub your back" and "Care to give me a back scratch".

Sore

Rating: PG

Y/N groaned as you pretty much staggered down the halls after a long day at work, wanting to ignore everything and everyone for the rest of the day.

SHIELD’s training has been killing you since they initiated new protocols and its not like Natasha has ever been easy on you as a combat partner. After the eighth day in a row this week, your body was bruised and achy. The rest of the team that you ran into at the tower knew very well to stay way out of the way when you got into this type of ‘over it’ mood, but not your boyfriend: Loki.

‘’welcome back darling, are you fairing well?’’ he asked in almost an annoying kind of tone, that or maybe you’d feel better if he was less happy and shared your pain.

To answer him, you nearly groaned and practically flopped onto your bed facing down and your body finally sighed and began relaxing; or at least while it lasted. Two gentle hands gently were placed upon your back and you immediately tensed up and practically hissed, triggering your aches and pains once more as you winced.

‘’I’m sorry but I’m not in the mood..’’ you say quickly and held back the pain in your voice, knowing fully well you and Loki usually made love whenever you both got reunited again.. or whenever the clock struck a second.

Loki chuckled as he held his hands up in a surrender position with his palms facing you as you seemed to curl up into a ball. ‘’I’m merely trying to help you relax darling, you look like you’ve had a long day- or week for that matter.’’ He said gently and reached for you again but you leaned away with a cringed look on your face at the very thought of trigging your pain again.

Loki sighed in light frustration and made a come-hither motion with his finger. ‘’will you let me rub your back?’’ he said stubbornly and you bit your lip.

You knew he was only wanting to help and quite frankly, forgot that your boyfriend had magic to help you ease your pain. Pain seemed to be wiping your memories by the second, making you almost want to pity laugh at yourself. Meekly, you relented by fully knowing Loki usually won most of the battles and you were to sore to keep being stubborn so you slowly moved yourself back onto your stomach.

You felt his finger hands gently return to your shoulders, stroking up and down with very little pressure at first before they moved their way towards the crook of your neck. Keeping your eyes closed, you took deep breaths as you helped him make your body relax as he slowly increased pressure with his thumbs kneading any knots they came across and paid extra special attention to them.

You bit your lip as you buried your face in your pillow, mainly hiding your blush as his hands rubbed against skin as the tank top was in both of your favors. As we worked beside you, you felt him shift lightly as he moved and practically sensed his frame leaning over you that would have practically cased a shadow if you both were outside.

His hands flattened against you now, rubbing in sidestrokes on either side of your spine as he worked his way down to your lower back and then repeated. You almost wanted to arch as you heard him chuckle above you.

‘’I thought you weren’t in the mood love, and yet here you are as always, craving my touch..’’ he purred, making your face heat up.

‘’it’s the shifting of the mattress..’’ you lied and tried to make your body sit still against his touch but you both knew it to be not true as you practically whined when he eased up.

‘’don’t forget who you’re lying to love,’’ he chuckled before resuming his strokes ‘’how is the pain darling?’’ he asked and used his thumbs now to rub tight circles down the sides of your spin, making you wince in a good way.

‘’you’re definitely making me forget about it-‘’ you breathed as your fingers gripped the sheets below you before you gasped when you heard your back crack and he moved his hands.

‘’well that’s defiantly a good sign that pressure was released.’’ He chuckled, now rubbing your back lovingly before he leaned down to place gentle kisses on your shoulder blades, causing you to shiver. ‘’I didn’t even need to use magic.’’

You opening your eyes in surprise and glanced at him.

‘’don’t look surprised love, we both know I’m good with my hands.’’ He smirked and you buried your head in your pillow again shyly.

‘’t-thank you..’’

Loki chuckled and you felt him shift a little before his presence on the mattress was gone ‘’you’re welcome love, I’m happy to help.’’

You were almost to quick to raise your head as you rested on your forearms to look over at him, missing his touch already as you bit your lip. Of course you and your boyfriend have been together for quite a while now but you still got nervous asking anything of him as you shifted uncomfortably with pleading eyes. ‘’Loki…’’

Loki looked back in gentle question and smile as he paused his steps. ‘’yes darling?’’

‘’can you..’’ you started, shifting again as you glanced down at his smooth, slender hands you missed already and your eyes switched back to his again as you shrugged a little. ‘’care to give me a back scratch?’’ you gave a sheepish grin as your body told you it needed more of him. ‘’while you’re at it’’

Loki smirked as he turned back at you full and you both knew that’s not entirely what you wanted. ‘’needy girl aren’t we’’ he teased and his pace slowly stalked back towards you. ‘’very well darling, now, lie down.’’

This last gif was just for fun Lol cause come. on! *pants*

[kjsnugget]

Chapter 5

Spencer Reid x Male Reader x Derek Morgan

Genre: fluff/Angst/idk

Warnings: Spencer still being a dick, violence, mentions of death, cursing, etc please message me if I missed any

———————————————————————————

It was a hard case for everyone. Ian Doyle was the reason your best friend was no longer here. He took her away leaving nothing but memories. It was part of the reason your relationship with Spencer failed. It was part of why you went through so much pain and heart ache. The anger you hurried so deep within you had made its way to the surface. It was the most the team has seen you angry in a long time. Spencer had noticed and wanted to comfort you but that was no longer his place. Instead it was Derek whispering things in your ear to calm you down. It helped but not enough to keep you from snapping.

The thought of him being free to run around on the streets while your best friend was six feet under was enough to make you snap on anyone. No one argued with you while the team chased down Doyle. This was a soft spot for you and they knew that. Penelope hated seeing you like this. She loved you and wanted the world to hit you with sunshine but that wasn't the case at the moment.

Jj knew you were angry and tried to help as much as she could without being in your way. She did not want to be between you and your goal. Everyone was just upset about this as you were just not as vocal.

Hotch was trying his best to keep the tensions from rising. He was well aware of everything that had been going on with you, Reid, and Morgan. It was a personal issue and he never wanted to overstep his boundaries with the three of you. He made it clear he was there if you guys needed anything. It bothered him to see you so upset, which is why he never bothered to correct the pda you and Derek would show sometimes. It was never over the top so he never had reason to complain. He loved you and everyone on the team and would always go above and beyond for any of you and that never changed. Which is why he knew what he had to do and it was going to be hard to face everyone but bringing her home was the right thing to do.

Derek was doing his best to keep you calm, he knew where you were coming from. He knew how upset you were which is why the two of you stood in the briefing room, he was standing against a wall with you leaning on him. He was just comforting you so you could work the case. Anger can cause mistakes and that's the last thing they wanted. No one had any issues with the two of you standing like that as they knew it's what was best for you at the moment. The team already knew what was going on between you two as it didn't take a profiler to see the chemistry.

Spencer watched as you stood in Derek's arms as he calmed you down. The case was at a stand still and he was loathing the scene in front of him. He felt so confused about his feelings. Although the past months with Maeve have been nothing but wonderful he still hated the idea of you being with Derek. With the case at a stand still it was hard to focus on anything but the scene before him. He watched as your shoulders visibly relaxed. The way your breathing evened the tone in your voice calming from its previous state. It was agony to watch. His mind was filled with thoughts of your previous relationship with him. How much you were always there for him. He remembered all things you did for him through your own grief. He missed having you as his, he missed sleeping next to you and kissing you in the morning.

"I wish you guys would chill out with the PDA" he didn't mean for the thoughts to be said aloud. It was supposed to stay in his thoughts. He seen your head snaps up "excuse me?" Unaware he even said the words he was confused "huh?" He watched as Derek let go of your hands and back away from you defeatedly. "I didn't quite hear you what did you say?" Your frame was now walking over to him "I said I wish you guys would chill with the pda" it was as if someone pulled a trigger "did you mind when you fucked Maeve in my bed? No? I didn't think so, mind your fucking business pretty boy"

Spencer didn't expect you to speak that way as you never have before. It brought anger out as you mentioned his lovers name in such a disrespectful way "at least she isn't her exs best friends fuck toy"  before you could say anything Derek's voice cut you off "woah woah don't disrespect him like that Spencer that's not true and you know it" Derek stayed on his side of the room to avoid escalating the situation which didn't last very long "it's true right after we broke up you swooped in to take your chance with him you were supposed to be my best friend but being a whore comes~" before the words could leave his mouth, a loud crack filled the room as he fell to the floor.

Blood filled his hand as you stood above him holding your hand as it started to bruise "watch your mouth and keep my boyfriends name out of it" silence filled the four walls surrounding them as you walked out. They knew you would have to get in trouble for hitting another member of the team but it didn't matter right now. Despite being angry with him for how he spoke to you Derek decided to help. Holding his hand out to Spencer who laid on the floor his nose on the floor he tools he helped him up.  Handing him a rag to stop the bleeding he walked after you "Derek wait" his feet paused at the door to hear What he had to say. He was angry but he just wanted this case to end "I'm sorry" he nodded in response before making his way to you.

When he found you sitting in his office he could see the emotions swirling in your mind. Sitting against his desk he couldn't help but laugh. Looking up at him confusion written all over your face how was he laughing? "Watch your mouth and keep my boyfriends name out of it" his mocking tone caused you to let a few laughs escape as well. It didn't really process to either of you until now that you had called Derek your boyfriend. That cocky smile took place on his face as he processed what you said. It didn't take you long to figure out why he was smiling like that. "Am I your boyfriend now?" His question came with the wiggle of his eyebrows causing you to laugh again "I don't know after that maybe not"

Smiling he guided you to him and wrapped his arms around you. "Okay I guess you can be my boyfriend" he laughed while planting a soft kiss on your head. Silently cheering he just enjoyed the moment you two were sharing before a knock on the door brought you out of the enjoyable moment. "Hey love birds we need you two in the briefing room" Penelope's voice rang through your ears. Excitement laced her voice as she held her self back from bombarding you with questions.

Walking into the vulpine with Penelope fallowing you brought a smile on your face. She could light your days ablaze with her questions. You were walking backwards answering her until you seen her stop in her tracks. An audible gasp left he lips as she stood frozen. You watched as Derek followed suit and remained still. Their eyes drifting behind you as the tears filled their eyes. Derek's eyes followed back to you as he knew what was going to come. He watched as you turned around and he felt thankful he never had to see your face change.

Turning around there stood your best friend. Her long black hair sat beautifully on her shoulders. The tears in her eyes ready to fall on her fair cheeks as you looked into her eyes. Your brain was unable to process her standing in front of you. It didn't make sense to you, she died. Your eyes trailed to the rest of the team as their eyes remained focused on you. You could feel their worry as your body was unable to move. "M/n I~" her voice shook as she called your name. The sound of her voice triggered all the emotions you worked so hard to repress resurface. The pain and suffering you went through came to a head. "Don't, you are not real you are not here! You are dead! I told your parents! I carried your casket! I gave your eulogy! Read your will! I buried you for fucks sake! You are not here anymore!" The tears you tried to hold back had let themselves fall. Your cheeks began to soak from the tears of your heart breaking.

"M/n please~" shaking your head as she stepped towards you "no" her heart broke as you stepped back "no you don't get to do that! I grieved months! I didn't get to when you died because I had to deal with everything else going on! I had to be okay for them! I needed you more then I ever have these past months and you weren't here! I watched you die! When you died so did I" you wanted to scream, break everything in sight. You were angry, hurt that everything you went through could have possibly been prevented. You could have had her shoulder to cry on. You could have been her shoulder to lean on. You knew it wasn't anyone's fault for how things happened. She didn't have a choice in the matter however emotions can be powerful.

You knew you were acting irrationally but right now the way you were feeling was to strong to overlook. No one stopped you as you stormed out. They all felt your pain. No one blamed you for your reaction. They watched you fall to the lowest point in your life and they'd be lying if they weren't angry for you. Emily was unaware of all you been through since she has been gone. Hotch felt extremely guilty for keeping this from you but he had no choice. He never wanted you or any of his team to be in so much pain caused by his choices.

Everyone was at a stand still unsure of whether to run after you or give you space. Everyone was quiet unsure if they should even speak. The silence had been broken by Hotch informing everyone the case needs to continue. Derek had decided to give you the space necessary knowing you would ask for comfort when you were ready. No one rushed you to come back as they understood the emotions you were feeling could be overwhelming. They only grew concerned when they found Doyle and you were no where to be found.

Derek had called you with no answer, they all called you even Spencer. Not single one answers as they found your phone sitting on your desk. It wasn't until they realized your vest had been gone that they knew you set out on your own. It didn't take a profiler to know that emotions tend to cloud judgment and given the opportunity you would very likely Kill Ian Doyle. They had to get to him before you did and it was of no concern to him. They only cared about you and your career.

With Derek and Hotch behind the wheels the rubber on the tires was sure to dwindle. Emily sat quietly as they rushed to find you blaming herself for the events of your life she had yet to know. She often wondered if she had been honest about Doyle from the start maybe things could have played out differently all she knew was getting to you was important. She wanted you safe, happy, she wanted you to have everything you ever wanted. She wanted you to have the family you dreamed of in high school. She knew nothing of what you went through but it was clear something had transpired while she was away.

She loved you and she loved Spencer she was never a fan of the two you together. In her head the differences never made a good match but she held her tongue as she loved seeing you with that goofy grin whenever boy wonder was mentioned. However it broke her heart to watch the years pass by with the goofy grin fading over time as Spencer never lit up the way you did when his name was mentioned. Spencer never understood your love for art it was never appreciated by him. She loved you like a brother because you were that to her her whole life. She always had you to count on and she had not been there for you when you needed her the most. She was scared you wouldn't forgive her, she would do anything if it meant being close to you again. You were her soulmate she needed you in her life.

The silence was loud as they pulled into where he was hiding. It didn't take long to spot your vehicle as they all rushed inside without a second thought floating into their mind. It didn't take long to find you. As they thought your weapon was drawn pointed at Doyle's head. The anger and pain visible in your face as they heard the safety turn off. None of them felt comfortable pointing their weapon at you but as much as it hurt they did. Everyone of them aiming for a non fatal shot. Silent debating was happening as to who would speak to you. Who would walk you off the ledge?

No one knew what to do or what to say, the only thing everyone had in commons in this moment was fear.

[vintage-tech]

A throwback of my high school years: Here is an Epson RX-80 dot matrix printer from the early 1980s, a more featured sibling to the MX-80 that I used daily which was attached to an Apple //e. (The RX line was faster and could handle sheets of paper where the MX was tractor-feed fan-fold only.)

One neato thing about these Epsons was that they were programmable and they had some memory. From the Apple I could send the printer a font, then anything printed after that would be in that font. Also, the lab had the manual so I read up on how to tell the printer to do specialty work... There was one time when the Algebra 2/Trig teacher said we could bring a 3″x5″ notecard of ‘cheats’ to class for exams, and while most people were hand-writing things in tiny print I wrote a BASIC program that would first tell the printer to go into 132cpi mode, then print these formulas, complete with superscripts for exponents. Classmates were either impressed and wanted their own copy, or rolled their eyes. While the printout was not 3″x5″ in dimension it was the same 15 square inches in surface, so the teacher allowed it. While I don’t know if I still have one of those printouts, I know I do still have the program on a 5.25″ floppy and the name of it is “Vandenbrink Busters!”