weird i know but would people be interested in a silly little online recipe book? I made it so I, a guy who didn't cook often and doesnt like spending money, could cook regularly while living alone in university. I still use and update it!!

Please. Please can you tell me what a baeddel is and why people (terfs?) used it in a derogatory manner on this website for a hot minute but now no one ever uses it at all

you asked for it, fucker

[2k words; philology and drama]

baeddel is an Old English word. i have no idea where it actually occurs in the Old English written corpus, but it occurs in a few placenames. its diminuitive form, baedling, is much better documented. it appears in the (untranslated) Canons of Theodore, a penitential handbook, a sort of guidebook for priests offering advice on what penances should be recommended for which sins. in a passage devoted to sexual transgressions it gives the penances suggested for a man who sleeps with a woman, a man who sleeps with another man, and then a man who sleeps with a baedling. so you have this construction of a baedling as something other than a man or a woman. and then it gives the penance for a baedling who sleeps with another baedling (a ludicrous one-year fast). then, by way of an explaination, Theodore delivers us one of the most enigmatic phrases in the Old English corpus: "for she is soft, like an adulturess."

the -ling suffix in baedling is masculine. but Theodore uses feminine pronouns and suffixes to describe baedlings. as we said, it's also used separately from male and female. but it's also used separately from their words for intersex and it never appears in this context. all of this means that you have this word that denotes a subject who is, as Christopher Monk put it, "of problematic gender." interested historians have typically interpreted it as referring to some category of homosexual male, such as Wayne R. Dines in his two-volume Encyclopedia of Homosexuality who discusses it in the context of an Old English glossary which works a bit like an Old English-Latin dictionary, giving Old English words and their Latin counterparts. the Latin words the Anglo-Saxon lexicographer chose to correspond with baedling were effeminatus and mollis, and Lang concludes that it refers to an "effeminate homosexual" (pg 60, Anglo Saxon). this same glossary gives as an Old English synonym the word waepenwifstere which literally means "woman with a penis," and which Dines gives the approximate translation (hold on tight) male wife.

R. D. Fulk, a philologist and medievalist, made a separate analysis of the term in his study on the Canons of Theodore 'Male Homoeroticism in the Old English Canons of Theodore', collected in Sex and Sexuality in Medieval England, 2004. he analysed it as a 'sexual category' (sexual as in sexuality), owing to the context of sexual transgressions in the Canons. he decides that it refers to a man who bottoms in sexual relationships with another man. i don't have the article on hand so i'm not sure what his reasoning was, but this seems obviously inadequate given what we know from the glossary described by Dines. Latin has a word for bottom, pathica, and the lexicographer did not use this in their translation, preferring words that emphasized the baedling's femininity like effeminatus, and doesn't address the sexual context at all. Dines, however, only reading this glossary, seems to decide that it refers to a type of male homosexual too hastily, considering the Canons explicitly treat them separately. both Dines and Fulk immediately reduce the baedling to a subcategory of homosexual when neither of the sources to hand actually do so themselves.

by now it should be obvious why, seven or so years ago, we interpreted it as an equivalent to trans woman. I mean come on - a woman with a penis! these days I tend to add a bit of a caution to this understanding, which is that trans woman is the translation of baedling which seems most adequate to us, just as baedling was the translation of effeminatus that seemed most adequate to our lexicographer. but the term cannot translate perfectly; its sense was derived from some minimal context; a legal context, a doctrinal context, and so forth... the way Anglo-Saxons understood sex/gender is complicated but it has been argued that they had a 'one sex model' and didn't regard men and women as biologically separate types, which is obviously quite different from the sexual model accepted today; in any case they didn't have access to the karyotype and so on. the basic categories they used to understand gender and sexuality were different from ours. in particular, Hirschfield et al. should be understood as a particularly revolutionary moment in the genealogy of transsexuality; the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft essentially invented the concept of the 'sex change', the 'transition', conceived as a biological passage from one sex to the other. even in other contexts where (forgive me) #girlslikeus changed their bodies in some way, like the castration of the priestesses of Cybele, or those belonging to the various historical societies which we believe used premarin for feminization [disputed; see this post], there is no record that they were ever considered men at any stage or had some kind of male biology that preceded their 'gender identity.' the concept of the trans woman requires the minimal context of the coercive assignment at birth and its subsequent (civil and bio-technological) rejection. i have never encountered evidence that this has ever been true in any previous society. nonetheless, these societies still had gendered relations, and essentially wherever we find these gendered relations we also find some subject which is omitted or for whom it has been necessary to note exceptions. what is of chief interest to us is not so much that there was such a subject here or there in history (and whatever propagandistic uses this fact might have), but understanding why these regularities exist.

a very parsimonious explanation is that gender is a biological reality, and there is some particular biological subject which a whole host of words have been conjured to denote. if this were the case then we would expect that, no matter what gender/sexual system we encounter in a given society, it will inevitably find some linguistic expression. if, like me, you find this idea revolting, then you should busy yourself trying to come up with an alternative explanation which is not just plausible, but more plausible. my best guesses are outside the scope of this answer...

anyway, all of this must be very interesting to the five or six people invested in the confluence of philology and gender studies. but why on earth did it become so widely used, in so many strange and unusual contexts, in the 2010s? we're very sorry, but yes, it's our fault. you see apart from all of this, there is also a little piece of information which goes along with the word baeddel, which is that it's the root of the Modern English word bad. by way of, no less, the word baedan, 'to defile'. how this defiled historical subject came to bear responsibility for everything bad to English-speakers doesn't seem to be known from linguistic evidence. however, it makes for a very pithy little remark on transmisogyny. my dear friend [REDACTED] made a playful little post making this point and, good Lord, had we only known...

it went like this. its such a funny little idea that we all start changing our urls to include the word baeddel. in those days it was common to make puns with your url (we always did halloween and christmas ones); i was baeddelaire, a play on the French poet Baudelaire. while we all still had these urls a series of events which everyone would like to forget happened, and we became Enemies of Everyone in the Whole World. because of the url thing people started to call us "the baeddels." then there was "a cult" called "the baeddels" and so forth. this cult had various infamies attatched to it and a constellation of indefensible political positions. ultimately we faced a metric fucking shit ton of harassment, including, for some of my friends, really serious and bad irl harassment that had long-term bad awful consequences relating to stable housing and physical safety and i basically never want to talk about that part of my life ever again. and i never have to, because i've come to realize that for most people, when they use the word baeddel, they don't know about that stuff. it doesn't mean that anymore.

so what does it mean? you'll see it in a few contexts. TERFs do use it, as you guessed. i am not quite sure what they really mean by it and how it differs from other TERF barbs. i think being a baeddel invovles being politically active or at least having a political consciousness, but in a way thats distinct from just any 'TRA' or trans activist. so perhaps 'militant' trans women, but perhaps also just any trans woman with any opinions at all. how this was transmitted from tumblr/west coast tranny drama to TERF vocabulary i have no idea. but you will also find - or, could have found a few years ago - i would say 'copycat' groups who didn't know us or what we believed but heard the rumours, and established their own (generously) organizations (usually facebook groups) dedicated to putting those principles into practice. they considered themselves trans lesbian separatists and did things like doxx and harass trans women who dated cafabs. if you don't know about this, yes, there really were such groups. they mostly collapsed and disappeared because they were evildoers who based their ideology on a caricature. i knew a black trans woman who was treated very badly by one of these groups, for predictable reasons. so long-time readers: if you see people talking about their bad experiences with 'baeddels', you can't necessarily relate it to the 2014 context and assume they're carrying around old baggage. there are other dreams in the nightmare.

the most common way you'll see it today, in my experience, is in this form: people will say that it was a "slur" for trans women. they might bring up that it's the root of the word bad, and they might even think that you shouldn't use the word bad because of it, or that you shouldn't use the word baeddel because it's a slur. all of this is a silly game of internet telephone and not worth addressing. except to say that it's by no means clear that baeddel, or baedling, were slurs, or even insulting at all. while Theodore doesn't provide us with a description of how we can have sex with a baedling without sinning, and it may be the case that any sexual relations with a baedling was considered sinful, sexuality-based transgressions were not taken all that seriously in those days. there was a period where homosexuality within the Church was almost sanctioned, and it wasn't until much later that homosexuality became so harshly proscribed, to the extent that it was thought to represent a threat to society, etc. and as i mentioned, there are places in England named after baedlings. there is a little parish near Kent which is called Badlesmere, Baeddel's Lake, which was recorded in the Anglo-Saxon Domesday Book (as having a lord, a handful of villagers and a few slaves; perhaps only one or two households). it's not unheard of, but i just don't know very many places called Faggot Town or some such. it's possible that baedlings had some role in Anglo-Saxon society which we are not aware of; it could even have been a prestigious one, as it was in other societies. there is just no evidence other than a couple of passing references in the literature and we'll probably never have a complete picture.

All my knowledge is of hermitcraft and the stuff people have written for the Hermit!Tommy Au but I kept having this idea and needed to write it. I also think i got a bit out of character halfway through because it was supposed to be short, but i vibed with it too much so now it’s long and maybe not 100% accurate but it’s still angst followed by fluff.

also @petrichormeraki wanted me to tag them when i posted this.

Tommy had been with the Hermits for a while now. He hadn’t really kept track of when he first arrived, but it had at least been a few months. Otherwise, time was a mess. The Hermits has all but legally adopted him and all the joy that came from them caring for him made time seem to fly by.

Doc was fun to be around because while Tommy was perfectly fine never going back to the SMP, the way the man acted gave Tommy a small bit of familiarity in a good way to his past life.

He likes hanging out with False, mainly for sparring. Never anything deadly, but even if there wasn’t a need for Tommy to constantly look over his shoulder, it was good to keep from getting too rusty.

He doesn’t really hang out with Zedaph as much as Zedaph hangs out with him. Normally the Hermit would come out of the blue with something new for Tommy to try. Flicking levers over and over for something that would normally be as simple as using a furnace just became fun for Tommy, especially if he had energy pent up.

Xisuma is someone Tommy doesn’t run into much, but the fact that he doesn’t is something Tommy finds comfort in. Even as the server admin, the man is very down to Earth. Nothing like Dream ever was.

And then there’s Grian. Tommy got along with all the Hermits fine and of course there were some he preferred over others, but Grian took the cake for him. When he first showed up, Grian was the one to give him a place to stay at his old hobbit hole. Professor Beaks had been left there and still used to the SMP and scared for his life, Tommy hid the pet bird as leverage for his own safety. When Grian found out, he mostly shrugged it off, but the tens of chickens in the hobbit hole the next day was proof of retaliation.

Tommy didn’t understand the underwhelming response at first, but responded in kind, using the eggs from the chickens Grian had left to egg the Hermit’s base. When the builder nearly broke the door to the hobbit hole, Tommy grabbed his axe, ready to fight for his life, but was taken aback by the cheerful look on Grian’s face.

After that, Grian had practically taken Tommy under his wing. He showed Tommy how to build more effectively with cobble, eventually managing to get the teen to have some variety. Grian also brought Tommy along on his various chaotic endeavors, leaving behind chickens, mycelium, and possibly some missing doors.

The two chaotic red wearing Brits got along so well that they sometimes spent entire weeks together. Because of that, Tommy was all too aware that the Hermits participated in MCC as well.

It made sense. A few of the Hermits vaguely recognised him when he showed up in Hermitcraft and a few of them looked familiar to Tommy. That had made him feel a little safer since now these people weren’t complete strangers, but it did complicate things. Every so often, the portal to MCC would open and the Hermits participating would go through. The closest Tommy would get to the portal was just before the Hermits left, occasionally giving a ‘Good luck Grine!’ or something similar to Grian as he went through. But after that Tommy stayed as far away as he could manage.

The portal there led to MCC. And from there, there was a portal that led to the SMP. If Tommy could get to Hermitcraft, others could too. And that idea was terrifying, no matter who it was. Dream was a worst case scenario, but even if it was Tubbo. Tubbo had exiled him, and even if they were still on good terms after that, Tommy could have visited at some other MCC, but he didn’t, and that idea likely wouldn’t go over well, especially since otherwise, people probably thought he was dead and Tommy didn’t care to correct them.

But compared to all those other times, today was very different. Today Tommy wasn’t at the sidelines to help send off the other Hermits, he was one of the ones being sent off. They had taken every precaution. Mumbo had rebuilt his Spookification chamber for Tommy with some alterations, specifically removing the firework method of alteration. The teen was also dressed for being on a team with Grian as the Cyan Creepers, so his familiar red and white shirt was missing. But under Tommy’s costume, he still kept the chain necklace holding his compass. He refused to part with it, though made sure he would be hard to access to keep from glancing, knowing at the championships, it wouldn’t be spinning wildly anymore.

With a comforting pat on the back from Grian, he and the other Hermits walked through the portal. The crowd of people that were on the side almost immediately overwhelmed Tommy, making him think that it was a bad idea all over again, but the sight of the two other team members for the Cyan Creepers reassured them, especially as they lined up for the cameras for some fun and silly times. Then once the games began, he was too focused on winning to think of much else.

Before long, the championships were over. They had come in fifth, which was a bit disappointing at first, but on the other hand, it was still pretty good and kept the spotlight off of him. When dodgebolt began, Tommy stood next to Grian, but with a crowd of people, a good game, and no perfect place to sit, the both of them wandered for a better vantage point.

At one point, Tommy managed to push his way right up to the edge of the viewing ledge. It was the perfect place for a while until the action moved, causing everyone to decide it was the perfect place. Enough people moved nearby that Tommy was worried about falling into the pit below, and he almost did before someone pulled him back.

Tommy was ready to thank whichever Hermit or even other player helped him but the words died in his throat when he faced the person who grabbed him. He knew that mask and neon green color. And there was no reason for him to help Tommy unless-

“I finally found you!” Dream spoke. He raised his voice to be heard over the crowd, but not too much to draw the attention of others. Tommy froze as he definitely heard the words. But there was no way for Dream to know, he didn’t look at all like normal.

“I-I’m sorry.” Tommy tried not to stutter, hoping just the situation of being grabbed would excuse it. “But I don’t think I’m who you’re looking for. I’m new here. Unless you’re greeting me for being new.” It was something he prepared before in his mind after Grian brought up the possibility, but it felt sloppy putting it to use.

“Oh don’t lie Tommy. I know it’s you. I guess you got lost, but it’s okay, you can come back now. I got rid of the exile for you. Aren’t you glad?”

Tommy was glad for the mask that covered Dream’s face. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Dream’s actual expression. “How did you-” He started to speak, but Dream cut him off, poking Tommy’s chest, right where the compass was.

“Weren’t you paying attention to the teams? Tubbo got put with me. And between games he just happened to glance at his own compass. And wouldn’t you know it, it led me right here.” Dream held up the compass that belonged to Tubbo. It looked damaged, and it was recent. Tubbo likely didn’t want to give the tyrant admin the compass, but lost it to Dream anyway.

“Give that back to Tubbo!” Tommy shouted at Dream, trying to snatch it from him.

“Feisty now, aren’t you? We can take care of that when you come back. I’ll also give it back to him if you come with me.”

Tommy froze. There was no way he was going back, but what could he do? Everyone was focused on dodgebolt, and he didn’t want his appearance to have caused more trouble for Tubbo.

Tommy glanced at the crowd one last time before reluctantly nodding. Dream grabbed his hand in a painful clench and dragged him out of the crowd towards the SMP’s portal to leave. However, just before reaching it, Dream stopped. Tommy, who had been looking back at the crowd, hoping someone would see what was going on, turned towards the portal to see Grian standing in front of it.

“Heya, where do you think you’re going. MCC isn’t over yet. Dodgebolt it still going on.”

Tommy expected Dream to just push past Grian or even give some sort of retort, but the actual reply was shocking. “Uh, n-no, just… have to head back early. Th-the game delays made things run over. A-and we’ve got to get b-back for… something else. Don’t w-want to be late for that.”

Dream’s words made Tommy so shocked he forgot to breathe. Dream was scared, no he was terrified. And he was terrified… of Grian. Tommy looked back at the Hermit who stood unflinching in front of them.

“Really? I could have sworn that you were here when I arrived, and that kid wasn’t. And he definitely came from a different portal. I know since I was keeping my eye out for my teammates. So why’s he going with you?”

“I uh…” Dream struggled, struggled, to give an answer, letting Grian continue. “That’s what I thought. C’mon kid, let’s go back to the crowd. You can stay with me until it’s over then I’ll help you find your portal back.”

And Grian took Tommy away without any retaliation from Dream. Tommy was left in awe. Grian wasn’t even an admin in Hermitcraft but Dream was terrified of him. It was amazing! But at the same time, it made Tommy spiral a bit.

When everyone returned, Grian had made sure Dream left before the Hermits and Tommy did so Dream couldn’t watch Tommy leave. Tommy stuck to False’s side as they walked through the portal, Grian being the last to come through as he continued to act as a guard. When he tried to comfort Tommy after his run-in with Dream, he understood when the teen responded he just wanted to go home. The championships were exhausting enough without a scare like that.

The next day, Tommy hung out with False. And then Zedaph, and then Doc. Grian noticed immediately, but didn’t pay much mind to it. He noticed since Tommy had spent a full week only hanging out with him, so the sudden absence of the boy was noticeable, but it made sense that he would want to hang out with the others.

After that, Grian didn’t pay too much attention to the lack of Tommy until he ran into him while stocking the barge. Tommy had been buying something at the store when Grian flew in. He nearly dropped his diamonds in trying to leave in such a hurry that it finally concerned Grian. The builder started visiting other Hermits Tommy tended to visit and ask about him. No one really noticed much other than Tommy dodging any questions about him possibly going to hang out with Grian.

Grian decided to leave it alone, and he was definitely going to, but after another run in with Tommy, he threw that decision out the window. Grian normally wouldn’t have done this, but after trying multiple times to just talk to Tommy and being unsuccessful, the builder had to essentially corner the teen.

Immediately, Grian regretted it. Tommy was trembling, obviously scared, holding a sword in his hand. He carefully tried to point out that Tommy didn’t need to have his sword out, but instead of just putting it away, Tommy just threw it on the ground, also throwing down his other gear. Grian had heard of Tommy doing this before with the other Hermits, so he immediately recognised what was going on and dived to grab the gear. It scared Tommy more, but Grian wanted to make sure nothing ended up destroyed.

“Tommy, calm down, I just want to talk. Did I do something wrong? I mean, obviously I must have, you look scared out of your mind every time I’m around you. But I can’t think or anything I did and I don’t want this to keep happening. So can I know what’s going on?”

Tommy didn’t speak for a while. He just looked defeated and terrified. Grian called in some of the other Hermits to come help Tommy calm down, though at first it didn’t help. But over time, Tommy finally did stop looking so terrified and they moved to somewhere he would feel less cornered. It took more coaxing after that, but finally, Tommy explained himself.

“He’s scared of you. Dream is… actually scared of you.”

“Yeah, I’ve killed him once or twice. Plus my full name is Lord Grian Dreamslayer, so it’s kind of in the name.” The builder tried to say it as a joke, but it didn’t seem to lighten the mood.”

“He’s the admin and he’s scared of you. And you… I’ve been hanging out with you.”

Grian nodded. “Well yeah, we do fit together well. ...Did he say something at MCC to make you think I didn’t like you?”

Tommy shook his head. “N-No. You’re right, you’re fun to be around. But dream likes… liked messing with me. And tried to train me. And I hang out with you more than I had with him, and I’m more like you. I-If you’re somehow more powerful than him-!” The rest of the words stopped in Tommy’s throat, choking him up. Stress was nearby and gave Tommy a careful hug for comfort, which helped him a little.

Grian waited a little bit for the tension to calm slightly before he spoke. “I don’t know exactly what Dream has done to you. You’ve told us a lot, but you obviously haven’t told us everything, and telling us isn’t the same as experiencing it. But let me tell you that I’m not going to do what he’s done to you. I remember how you were the first day we found you. And I see how you are now- well, how you were a few weeks ago- and I’m happy. Happy because you’ve been happy. You’ve been safe and cared for here and it shows. I don’t want to force you to be anything, I want you to be you. Sure, I’m powerful enough to kill Dream, but I’m not going to use that power on you. I’m only going to use it around you if it’s to keep him away from you.

“And! And! It’s just because of how your server is. Here we can go to the end. We don’t have a set amount of lives. We build massive structures and sell totems for a single diamond each. We fight Withers for fun and make farms with them. We farm just about anything you can think of. And Tommy.” Grian paused, making sure Tommy was paying attention. “You may be from somewhere far off that none of us old Hermits have seen, but now you’re here. And new home or not, that makes you a Hermit too. Sure you can be like me. Or you can be like False or Doc or Scar or Mumbo. But so far, you’ve been pretty you. And that you is a Hermit.”

Tommy took a few moments to process it, but the message seemed to get through to him. With that, Grian stood up with a smile. “Now I get that you probably don’t want to hang around me much right now. It makes sense. Maybe hang out with some other Hermits and learn some new stuff to get your mind off of things. Plus, I also did some talking around looking for you, and got you this.”

Tommy’s eyes practically sparkled as Grian placed down some music discs. He greedily grabbed the treasures and stuffed them in his inventory, looking up just to see Grian flying off. Taking on Grian’s idea, Tommy decided to go with Cleo and try to wrap his head around those armor stands again. While he wasn’t a pro, he did manage to make one scene of the hermits all holding weapons and surrounding an armor stand in lime leather armor. Grian was right. He was a Hermit. And he wasn’t going back. At least, not permanently, he thought, clutching his compass. Maybe, there would even be another Hermit like him.

Rangers, Lead The Way - Chapter 2 - Jay and Hana

written by @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, cannon typical violence, jealousy, abandonment

When Jay had gotten a call from Kenny at three-thirty in the morning he didn't exactly know what to expect. Sure, he could have called because someone died, but he could've also called because he wanted to debate the pronunciation of 'avocado' (something he'd already done twice). So when Kenny's name flashed across his phone screen he just took a deep breath and went to the hallway, leaving a sleeping Hailey alone in bed. "Halstead."

"Hana got shot."

"What? Hana? Your Hana?"

"Yeah- it was a fugitive. She- she's fine. Shot in the foot. She was on leave for a bit, stayed with her parents, but now she's on desk duty. She was going to be with us, but apparently, she was helping the cyber division track some hackers, and they're connected to an organized crime group in Chicago. And she's going to be working with the unit that's been conducting the investigation into that organization. Your unit."

"Yeah, we were told that an FBI cyber analyst was coming down to work with us but they didn't tell us who. Okay, well, she'll be perfectly safe. Our tech room is in the basement with secure entrances, and I'll see if I can get either myself or Hailey assigned to work with her."

"Thanks man, you have no idea how much this means to me."

"Actually I do, remember?"

"Yeah, any advice on how to get through it?"

"I'm not gonna lie, it's gonna be hell, but you'll just have to hang in there and trust me."

"Okay."

"... So I'll finally get to meet Hana..."

"Yeah, I'm hanging up now. Bye."

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"Everyone, meet special agent Hana Gibson from the FBI. She's the tech specialist here to help us out with the Anderson family. Play nice." After his... Enthusiastic introduction, Voight walked back into his office and shut the door. "Hi, I'm detective Jay Halstead and this is my partner Detective Hailey Upton, it's nice to meet you. I can show you where you'll be working if you want?"

"That would be great." Jay moved to the desk by the stairs. "Okay, this desk is just like ours, older than our boss and with a PC on it. The tech room is downstairs, this is mostly for basic searches and so that the tech expert can be with the group when we debrief and work the board and the like. The stairs over here take you down to the garage which is where the tech room is. The stairs are old so they creak a lot but don't worry, they're perfectly safe."

"Sorry to interrupt, but is that a cage?"

"Yes, but don't worry, we don't use it. It's from the old guard, you know, when cops were assaulting people for no reason and no one would say anything. At least now people are talking about it."

"I sense a 'but'."

"But... I wish that cops who were still like that actually got arrested, or never made it out of the academy."

"You and me both."

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"Okay, so the Anderson family has been selling legit products online but then stealing and selling the credit card info, they've been covering their tracks pretty well up until now. That means that something changed. What that is could be key to catching all, and I mean all, of them. Work your CI's, talk to victims, flip some people. Figure out what it is." The team nodded and turned to their partners to figure out their next move.

"Should we head out to Cook County? There's an inmate there connected to the Anderson's, right? Maybe they could give us something."

"Actually, I was thinking maybe I could head out there with Ruzek and you could stay with Gibson because you found their online pattern and figured out which products and websites were theirs. Maybe you two could find more together."

"Sure, that sounds okay but, we're good, right?"

"Of course we are, we'll always be good. I just think this will be best for the case, plus you have the most experience working with the FBI, and her being here has put Voight on edge which has put everyone else on edge."

"Good point, I'll see you later." His eyes followed her until he couldn't see her anymore and he let out a breath, it was different this time. Last time, when Hailey hadn't been here, OA had kept an eye on her but his partner wasn't there so that made it a bit easier, but Hailey was here and now so was Hana. It would take some finessing to have both of their backs but he figured if they were in the same place it would be a little easier. "Halstead? You ready to head out?"

"Yeah, let's go."

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Cook County was as unpleasant as always. Angry convicts yelling at them through their cells that they wanted to slit his throat. Lovely. But that wasn't what got to him. Leonard Mitchell, the man they were there to see, wouldn't say anything helpful. He wasn't even threatening them or insulting them, he was just asking "where the smoking blonde from last time was". It was taking an enormous amount of restraint to keep him from jumping across the table and tackling the guy. "You're here for hacking the Chicago Municipal Courts website and unsealing confidential information. You're in the high-security ward and have more restricted access to places in the prison than most inmates. You don't have much going for you, maybe if you give us some information we can help you out."

"That's a joke, I'm not saying anything to either of you. Now that blonde, get her to show up for a conjugal visit, then maybe I'll consider it."

"Okay! So, we're done talking, we're going to search your cell and work station now, and you know what, because you have been so unpleasant to deal with today, we're also going to search the cells and workstations near you. Have fun explaining to your neighbours why their contraband got carted off by Chicago PD." Jay marched out of the interrogation room before he lost his cool even more than he already had. He gestured for the warden to get some guards together to start the search. He took a deep breath to try and calm down. "Hey Halstead, are you okay? I mean, what he said about Upton..."

"I'm fine. I don't like hearing anyone talk about my partner that way, but I'm fine."

"Really? Cause the stuff he said was pretty..."

"She's back at the station with Gibson in probably the most secure room there, far, far away from that perv. And if she's okay, I'm okay."

"You should ask her out. I mean, I know it might be weird considering I'm her ex, but you're so far gone on her it's ridiculous and I think that you'd make a cute couple. Think about it, man"

"Uh, yeah. I'll think about it, come on, let's go see if the warden's ready for the searches." Jay's heart was pounding and he felt like he'd just jumped out of the way of a moving train. Nobody knew about them yet, but they were all criminal investigators surely they'd picked up that at least something was different.

They searched Mitchell's room and found a burner phone... Behind his toilet. "Man, I am so glad I don't have to touch that thing. That's Upton and Gibson's job."

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"So I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is, we found a cell phone. The bad news is, it was behind his toilet."

"How lovely."

"Well, you can thank Leonard Mitchell for that. Hey, how's it been working with Gibson?"

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"You seem really interested in her, that's all. Do I need to be worried?"

"No, I just want to make sure that she feels welcome and won't give us a bad review to the FBI."

"I know what you look like when you're lying, Jay."

"Hailey..."

"Just... Go back upstairs, Jay."

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"How's everything going?"

"Other than the fact that I'm in the doghouse, good."

"What'd you do?"

"I was a little too protective of Hana, I guess. Hailey picked up on it and I couldn't exactly explain without blowing our cover."

"That sucks, man. I'm sorry but honestly, it sounds like you were gonna end up sleeping on the couch either way."

"Yeah, how are you? You holding up alright with Hana gone?"

"No. You were right, this is hell. I keep looking around to make sure she's covered or to offer to get her that terrible coffee she likes and then she's not there and it feels like whiplash." Jay could practically feel himself sharing the weight on Kenny's shoulders. "It doesn't get any easier, it actually gets a lot harder, but she won't be here forever. She'll be home soon and you'll be able to breathe again."

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Hailey was still giving him the cold shoulder when he went around to take lunch orders. She was curt "my usual" before turning back to her computer screen and completely ignoring him. He did what he could to not let the pang in his chest play out on his face but from the way Hana looked at him it was obvious, he'd failed. "What about you Gibson? Do you need a copy of their menu?"

"No, that's okay, I looked it up. I'll get the spicy shrimp pad thai."

"You got it." He was about to leave when Hana gestured for him to lean down close to her. "Just apologize for whatever you did, it'll go a long way. She's been off since you dropped off the cell phone." He wanted to say something, explain that he was just caught between a rock and a hard place, but the words were trapped in his throat. Hana sent him a I-know-what-I'm-talking-about-if-you-don't-listen-to-me-you're-probably-going-to-regret-it look and all he could do was allow his shoulders to slump and nod.

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The intense silence of the bullpen was interrupted by Hailey entering behind Hana, who looked incredibly confident on her crutches. "We got something off of the phone." Hailey moved to the board with some papers as Hana plopped down into the office chair at her temporary desk. "It took a while to crack some of the files but I got it. They're transactions between an off-shore account and a shell company based out of Arkansas. While the account was set up there, it's been used mostly in New York, Washington DC, and Chicago. The most recent transaction was for 85K."

"Hana and I also found some emails with photos of military-grade weapons. Guns, missiles, and grenades. Mitchell isn't the buyer or the seller, it looks like he's mediating between the two. We don't have an ID on the buyer yet, but we have one on the seller. Lori Anderson, member of the Anderson crime family. Got no idea what they're planning, but the Anderson's were particularly interested in armour-piercing weapons and rocket launchers. And two days ago she asked Mitchell if he could put her in contact with an explosives supplier. We need to talk to organized crime, both from CPD and FBI, this looks bad. There are still files and emails that we have to go through, and his calendar makes no sense it's all in code. It's probably pretty important because he was in prison and couldn't actually go anywhere. We're also still combing through the contraband from the other cells just to make sure none of his neighbours were also involved."

"Alright. Upton, Gibson, good work. Keep at the phone. Atwater and Burgess you two talk to organized crime, see what you can dig up and alert them of our discoveries. Ruzek and Halstead, flip any CIs you've got. We need to get ahead of whatever they're planning."

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They were supposed to be safe. They were supposed to be safe. They were in the precinct, they were surrounded by on-duty cops, there was another detective unit across from Intelligence, Platt was at the front desk, Hank-don't-you-even fucking-dare-Voight was in his office. They were supposed to be safe. But they weren't.

They'd just left one of Adam's CIs twitching in excitement down the street as he counted his money when they got the call over the radio.

"10-1! 10-1! Shots fired at police at 21st district! We're pinned down!" They had a moment of stunned silence together before they hauled ass to Jay's truck and high-tailed it back to the district, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Jay's body was moving on autopilot, which probably wasn't good considering he was speeding in a large vehicle down busy roads, the only thing that was going to calm him down, that would quell and panic and rage bubbling up in was seeing Hailey alive. He would move heaven and earth to make that a reality.

Pulling up at the district he vaguely remembered he had to look out for Hana too, but lord help him, and whoever stood in his way, if he didn't see blonde hair and blue eyes attached to the fiery woman who held his heart.

The lobby reminded Jay of Kandahar, there were bullet holes lining every vertical surface. Blood pooled under the bodies of the injured. He did a quick sweep of the room, finding nothing but injured cops and civilians, none of whom were Hailey or Hana, or the attackers. The door to intelligence hung open, barely attached at the hinges. "They went up to intelligence! Move your asses!" Platt didn't spare them a second glance as she went back to ordering the remaining able-bodied patrol officers around.

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"Kim!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay."

"We're okay too, just so you know."

"Where did they go, Kev? What happened?"

"They went down to the garage-" Jay didn't have it in him to finish listening, he just ran, gun raised. "Hailey! Hana!" It was bad enough that he might lose Hailey, the woman he loved more than anything, but losing Hana too? He wouldn't be able to look Kenny in the eye ever again.

"We're over here!"

"We're okay!"

And then he could breathe again. Oh thank god, she's safe, Hailey's safe. She's mad at me but she's safe... Does my heart always pound this fast when I'm not with her and I'm just noticing now? No, it's probably adrenaline because... I almost lost her. But I didn't. They were tucked into separate corners of the tech office, Hailey, covered in blood that she immediately indicated wasn't hers, was armed with her Glock and Hana armed with her crutches. There were five men in black tactical gear with ski masks lying in various positions on the floor. Four had obvious non-lethal bullet wounds, a courtesy from Hailey, and the fifth was still moving and being hit repeatedly by Hana with one of her crutches. "Stop. Moving. Already. You. Ass!" Jay would've been more impressed if he wasn't still coming down from the adrenaline. "Thank god. You're both okay? Hailey?"

"We're fine."

"Hails-"

"We're fine, just help guide the ambos here, please?"

"...Okay." God, he could feel his heart start to splinter. Less than a minute ago he'd thought that his world had been savagely destroyed, but now... All he wanted was to hold her and it only made him ache more when she pushed him away. He just walked over to the garage door to allow the paramedics easier access, only his footsteps and groans of pain coming from the goons kept the room from being dismally silent.

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"She's completely fine, so before you freak out just know that she's in the exact same shape she arrived here in."

"That is a terrible way to start a phone call Halstead! Was that supposed to calm me down or help in some way? What even happened?"

"The Genna's hired some local weapons enthusiasts the bust into our precinct and steal what we knew about them. They trashed our bulletin board and tried to get to the computers in the tech room but Hailey and Hana whooped their asses. When I got there Hana was actually beating one with one of her crutches. Hana's a badass."

"Damn right she is... But she's okay?"

"She's pissed off, but there's not a scratch on her."

"Good... That's really good."

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"Hailey?" Jay knocked again, using every last thread of hope he had that she'd answer. It didn't matter that she was still upset with him, he just wanted to see her face. She and Hana had been whisked away by the FBI and IA right after the ambulances picked up the hired help. He just wanted to see her for more than thirty seconds, reassure himself that she was okay and that she still loved him. That he could fix everything, that he would at least get to hold her one last time. "Hailey, please open the door." He was only met with soul-crushing silence. "Please."

The relief he felt when the lock turned and the door opened could not be described. "Hana is inside if you want to talk to her."

"I'm here for you, Hails. Please, just... Talk to me. I love you, I love you more than I ever thought possible to love someone and today I found you hunched over, covered in blood. It doesn't matter that the blood didn't end up being yours. I was- I still am- terrified. I could have lost you today and I don't know how to face that. Can I just have a hug, at least, please? I just- I can't-" And then she was wrapping her arms around his waist, her tired gravity pulling him to her. He honestly considered being able to wrap his arms around her in return, and burying his face into her hair a gift from the gods. "I was so glad that you weren't there, because it means you weren't getting shot at, I've had to deal with you getting shot more than enough times, I couldn't deal with it again, Jay. I... I love you too." Jay didn't know how much longer they stayed like that, enveloping each other, but he cherished every second of it. And when they finally parted it was like coming down from an adrenaline high. "Do you want to come in? We were about to order from Bartoli's."

"I would love that."

"Good, cause we've left Hana waiting for a while."

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"So, now I get to have the legendary deep-dish pizza, huh?"

"Yep. Best damn pizza in the world."

"Damn straight."

"You know, I think you two are a little biased."

"You sound like the partner I had while I was in the FBI, OA Zidan, he was always riding me about my opinion on pizza." Jay froze. He could feel himself freeze up. He could feel Hailey and Hana eyeing him in confusion. Shit. "What is it, Jay?"

"Sorry, I just don't like remembering that my partner was away from me for so long, and had another partner in that time period."

"Really, Halstead? You don't need to get all territorial, Hailey clearly doesn't want to be anywhere but with you. Seriously, you should have seen her when the FBI and IA showed up-"

"Hana!"

"What? He's the one who got all stiff when you brought up the FBI"

Phew, they didn't know, thank heavens.

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Everyone was back the next day, ready to keep moving, to catch the people who organized the break-in of their precinct which injured twenty-three and killed four. It was bad enough that they'd tried to bust into Intelligence in the first place, but to hurt innocent people in the process? That was just plain wicked.

Hailey and Hana were working side by side, delving into the cyber goings on of the Genna family, Kim and Kevin were working with the crime lab to analyse the precinct, and Jay and Adam were back to flipping CIs. Jay felt better about where things stood with Hailey, but he was still grumpy that he couldn't be in the temporary bullpen with her today. He knew that she was capable and that she didn't need him to hover, but that didn't make being away from her after she was almost killed any less difficult. They were supposed to be in the most secure place in the precinct, how were any of them supposed to feel safe working in a place that had been breached by mercenaries in only a few minutes? He tried to shake off the worry and fear, but he just couldn't. And it was made worse by the fact that it wasn't only Hailey who had been in danger- Hana was too. And Kenny had already lost so many people that he really didn't know how he would've handled that situation. Having to tell one of his best friends that the woman he was in love with was dead while dealing with the exact same senario.

The second last CI on their list had been dodging them all day, and Jay's sanity was already hanging on by a thread- he did not have the strength or patience to deal with this. So instead of trying to track him down again, he just put out a BOLO and waited until patrol brought him in, kicking and screaming. When he entered the interrogation room Marcus went on a tirade, "what the FUCK, man!", "we had a deal!", "are these handcuffs really necessary?". Jay just stared at him. He didn't have the energy to try and get the guy to shut the fuck up, so he just sat silently across from him, trying to make him as uncomfortable as possible. "... Are you okay, man?"

"No, not really, Marcus. See, I've been calling you all day. I've called up other CIs and they were all okay to meet. But not you. No, you ghosted me and I had to get patrol to drag your ass in here. You still have robbery charges I could lay on you. This is about to get a whole lot worse because I have exactly no patience to deal with any BS right now, but yours especially. So. The Genna family. Tell me everything you know."

And he did. He sang like a damn canary, which Jay attributed to luck, and Adam attributed to Jay looking like he was going to tear the poor bastard limb from limb. Seriously. Adam made a mental note not to piss off Jay, which he subconsciously realizes means that as long as he didn't hurt Hailey he'd be fine. But he didn't have time to dwell on that as Jay exited the interrogation room looking like the leprechaun at the end of the rainbow. "I've gotta get this to the girls, you're not gonna believe what this bastard knew."

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An apartment, down in Canaryville, was occupied by Daniel Anderson's mistress. And she wasn't just his mistress... She was his accountant. She didn't just file his taxes, she managed his money, she knew everything that it was used for and how they got it in the first place. Jay ran to the temporary tech room ready to drop a bomb, only for his fiery girlfriend to beat him to it. "We found out where they got the weapons and ammo! The navy didn't put out a report until they'd finished their investigation, but it's their stuff. It all came from Norfolk, but they were shipping it to Kandahar when they were robbed by a twelve-person team, well-skilled and heavily armed. But look at this surveillance video, where part of the leader's sleeve got torn off."

"That's... That's Daniel Anderson. He's got that tattoo. We can get a warrant with that, but what about this- Daniel has a mistress in an apartment in Canaryville. She's his accountant, she knows everything. And if we can get a warrant with what you found, we can search that apartment too because it's in his name." Hailey smiled that vindicated smile that just lit up her whole face and made her eyes shine with pride. Jay could feel himself mirroring her and he just couldn't look away, finally feeling like they got their groove back, their relationship back. "Hey guys? I'm glad you made up but can you either get to work or get a room? I don't need  a front seat to this."

"Oh, admit it Gibson, we're your OTP."

"I admit to nothing, Halstead."

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Honestly, the raid of all of Daniel Anderson's properties, and consequently the collapse of the Anderson crime family, was dismally anti-climactic. They found boat-loads of evidence, Daniel's wife, mistress, and right-hand man all turned on him, and the FBI and NCIS were currently fighting over jurisdiction even though the case was already solved... By the CPD. Truthfully no one minded, because it meant that once they submitted their case notes and raid reports, they were done and might not even have to go to trial, the feds could handle that. While the majority of Intelligence decided to go to the regular watering hole, Hailey and Hana had made other plans and were dragging Jay along for the ride. And it was all going well, until they started talking about roommates. "I like Zadie, but she's gotten annoying now that she's dating my partner. So has he honestly. I mean, who thought that Kenny Crosby, an ex-army ranger would be acting like a thirteen-year-old that was in his first relationship? 'Is that text from Zadie? Is it about me? Were you guys talking about me while you were in the kitchen together this morning?' He was It's... A little exhausting. All he can talk about, is her. And whenever we hang out it always involves her somehow. He won't say it but I know he was a little disappointed when I came back and interrupted their 'love nest." All that Jay was able to gain from that other than the echo of sadness from behind her eyes, was that Crosby was dating someone who was not Hana. Which would be weird if he talked about her constantly on the phone, which he does, have an intimately trusting relationship with her, which he does, and ask one of his old army buddies to keep an eye on her while he can't because he cares about her so much and can't bear to lose her, which he did. So in conclusion; the fact that Kenny is dating someone who is not Hana is weird and will require further investigation.

"So he's constantly asking you about his girlfriend?"

"Well, she is too. But it's more annoying with him because he's my partner, we work together."

"But you live with her."

"It's... It's just different." Jay could see that she was mentally grasping at threads while trying to keep herself from falling into a black hole, this clearly meant much more to her than she was letting on so he decided to drop it. It was good timing too, because Hailey returned to the table with their food. Hair up, with a cute little Greece-themed apron on, ignoring her older brother's teasing from the kitchen. "Σκασε ηλιθιε!" (shut up idiot!)

"Μην μου πεις να σταματήσω, αυτό είναι το εστιατόριο μου!" (Don't tell me to shut up, this is my restaurant!) Jay found himself chucking at the Upton sibling banter. They interacted a lot less than he and Will did, though he supposed part of that was because he and his brother ran into each other through their work fairly often, and it was nice to see them... Happy with one another. Hailey usually looked like a constipated pigeon whenever she talked about her family so it was nice that she had reconciled with at least one sibling. After they were all able to move out, their relationships with each other got much more contentious. Theodore was the middle child and believed that they should quietly encourage their mother to leave their abusive father and just silently support her, Declan was the oldest and quite firmly just didn't care about their parents anymore and wanted nothing to with either of them because one was the abuser and the other was the enabler, while Hailey was the youngest and wanted to drag her father to prison by his ear herself. "Your brother seems like quite the joker."

"Oh, he is. He's always been the comedian in the family, a bit of a cross between SpongeBob and Chandler Bing. When I was seven, Theo put these gummy spiders in random places all over the house. It scared the crap out of my dad when he opened the- a top kitchen cupboard and about twelve of these spiders fell out, scared him even more when Theo grabbed one off the floor and bit into it, I think he ate three in total, one was completely whole, talking about how 'tasty' they were before my dad needed to sit down. It took him longer than he will ever admit to realize that they were just candy."

"Oh, that is good. I used to use some of those YouTube jump scare videos on my parents. I thought it was the funniest thing ever, especially because I used Elmo jump scares. So they'd be freaking out, and I'd just ask them why they were so afraid of a red puppet. My mom still doesn't trust me to show her videos."

"Well, it sounds like you and my brother would get along like fire, you should meet him later. He said he'd join us for dessert." Wait... What? Oh no... I know that look, she's trying to set Hana up with her brother! As much as I'd like Hana to be my sister-in-law, that would preferably be through a different brother.

."That sounds great, I really like Theo. What was that thing we had last time we ate with him and... Her name was Kate, right? Do you know how they're doing? I feel like I haven't heard about her in a long time." Hailey gave him a look. A I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that look. "No, they're not dating anymore. I thought I mentioned that."

"Oops, seriously though, what was that dessert we had with them?"

"That was revani, we can ask if that's what my brother has here today."

"Uh- what is revani, if I may ask, as the only non-Greek and non-Greek-dating person at this table?"

"Ha, of course you can ask Hana. It's a semolina cake, flavoured with lemon and orange zest. It's really good."

"That sounds great, but do you think I'd also be able to order some takeout for tomorrow? I just have a long day of travelling via bus tomorrow and I don't know when I'll get the chance to eat, so I figure having a big breakfast might help with that."

"That sounds like a cool idea. Hailey, why don't we all order some food to go and eat it tomorrow morning together?"

"You mean as like a big Greek breakfast?"

"Yeah."

"I wasn't thinking that initially but I'm glad Jay did, it sounds great."

"Alright, yeah, let's do it. I'll go talk to Theo and order somethings that reheat well." Hailey left them with a smile to go bother her brother in the kitchen, their discussion in Greek filling the restaurant with jokes and quips only a few present were able to understand, forging smiles on the faces of strangers as they listened to the voices in the kitchen. Hana looked apprehensive, and he doubted it was about the long bus inter-state bus ride. "Hana, I'm sure that your partner missed you, maybe he didn't say it, maybe he needed a distraction, but he missed you."

"How do you know? You don't even know him." If only you knew.

"Trust me on this."

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"You fucking idiot." Jay was trying to keep his voice down so that he didn't wake Hailey, who was asleep in her bed (where he wanted to be), or Hana who was asleep in the guest bedroom. As much as he loved her with his entire being, Jay had to admit that Hailey was a fucking demon if you woke her up without 'just cause'.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me Crosby!"

"What the hell Halstead?!"

"You called me at three-thirty in the morning, worried out of your mind about Hana, asking me to keep an eye on her, to protect her, all while you're dating someone who isn't her!"

"Oh, yeah, I'm dating her roommate-"

"Zadie. I know. Why do you think I called you to yell at you at two in the morning?"

"Hey, back up man. I don't know what you think you're talking about, but just because I'm dating Zadie doesn't mean that I don't care about Hana. There is very little I wouldn't do to keep her safe... If I could even do it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I... I was right there. I should have been able to help her. So, so why couldn't I help her? Huh? She is so important to me, okay? I don't even know how to describe it."

"Try."

"She... My mom told me that to make a woman fall in love with me I had to make her laugh, but every time she laughs I'm the one who falls more and more in love. She is astonishingly intelligent and I have never been more glad to feel like a complete and utter fool just by standing in someone's presence. If I had to crawl to hell and be tortured by the devil himself to keep her safe, I'd do it. I have never felt as wholly accepted by anyone else in my life, she has found ways to motivate me to climb out of my own grave on my darkest days. Every time a look at her, I see a glowing, deliriously happy future that I know I don't deserve." Heavy silence bore on both sides of the phone, dragging Kenny deeper into the dark crack in his chest, and delivering Jay an epiphany.

"... Have you ever thought that maybe it's about what she deserves?"

"Hm?"

"Listen, man, not everything is about you. This is about her. You just said you would let the devil tear you apart to keep her safe, and yeah maybe you don't deserve her, but she deserves you. She deserves someone who would do whatever it takes to make her laugh and keep her safe at whatever the cost all in the same day, and it sounds like that's you."

"Jay..."

"Just think about it man. And while you're at it, stop neglecting Hana, okay?"

"What?"

"You constantly talk about Zadie, you always involve her somehow when you're hanging out with Hana, and Hana's been getting the vibe that you're upset she came home and disrupted the little bubble you had going on with Zadie."  

"She told you that?"

"Me and Hailey, when we were all out at dinner. Just listen, pay a bit more attention to her, stop treating her like the middle man between you and your girlfriend, and work on your self-worth, man. You're a good person and an even greater friend, don't sell yourself short."

"Thanks, Halstead."

"No problem, Crosby."

"So what exactly makes me a 'great friend', Jay?"

"Uggggghhhhhhh."

"Hey! You said it, can't take it back!"

"... This is why we can't have nice things Kenny, goodnight."

"Wait you didn't tell me-"

Fortunate ones

Javier Escuella x reader

Part 5

Summary: You recover from your first job with Javier.

Notes: this is another long chapter frick I’m sorry, this had been mostly written for days but here it is at last.

warnings: blood/guns?? SFW as always yall

word count: 2093

last chapter - next chapter

There was a loud thud of a body hitting the floor as the smoke cleared. You stared at the stranger you had just shot, shock taking over for a second that dragged on for an age. He didn’t die right away, and his co-workers wailed in terror while he writhed in pain. “fuck.” This was the best word you could come up with to summarize your current emotions. There was so much more blood than you thought there would be, his expensive tailored waistcoat soaking up all that red. That was a close one. It could have been you shot, or Javier. Oh christ, Javier. You whipped your head round to check on him.

“Mierda!” The victim’s gun had gone off as he went down but the bullet had thankfully only grazed Javier’s arm. Still not exactly how you wanted your first job to go.

“Javier!” you rushed to his side carelessly, anyone would think the bullet had hit his chest the way panic saturated your words.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” he whistled for the horses hastily. Those gunshots had drawn too much attention and anyone nearby would of heard it, you needed to move and fast. Both the driver and the passengers were too busy cowering to even dare try and attack either of you again and they didn’t move from their position, whimpering by the corpse of the man you’d shot when you snatched all the cash from the lockbox and crammed it into your saddlebags. “We need to move.” Javier pressed and you quickly mounted up and followed his lead. The thundering of the horse’s hooves matching the thundering in your chest as white-hot adrenaline coursed through your veins. It felt almost euphoric, or at least it would if you weren’t so worked up about Javier and about that man you’d gunned down.

The both of you bolted from the scene before anyone could so much as investigate, never mind alert the authorities, so it was safe to say you weren’t followed but that didn’t stop you from taking the long way back to camp. As soon as you were out of sight of passer-by and into the trees outside horseshoe overlook, you came tearing off your horse to his aid. “Let me see! That moron, I saw him reaching for his gun and I just-“ you cut yourself off mid-sentence and shook your head, as if trying to shake the thoughts out of your mind. He dismounted slowly, ready to insist he was perfectly fine until you caught him off guard again. Oh, so carefully you took his arm to examine the small wound, your touch as gentle as ever. Javier had been through a lot in his life, far too much as had most members of the Van Der Linde gang, but people were rarely so concerned for him. As long as he wasn’t dead it didn’t matter, you kept moving forward. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me. It looks like it hurts.” The guilt of it all hit you and the weight of it was crushing.

“I’m fine, Just a scratch. We got away, you got the money, right?” this was of more importance than him, at least that was the way it always had been. The life of an outlaw, life as one of Dutch’s boys. It was dangerous but that was how it was for him, he wouldn’t even concern himself with a near miss like this for a second. Still, he didn’t pull away when you took his arm, it felt nice for someone to be so tender.

“I’m so sorry. This is my fault, you could have been really hurt, or killed!” You frowned as you looked at the blood on his shirt. It was really true when you said you wanted your first job to be with him because he was your favourite, you trusted him after only a few short weeks and that was rare in this life.

He looked at you, it was obvious you were upset, and he didn’t want you feeling so terrible over something so silly. He rested his free hand over yours, it lingered there for a moment before he spoke “I’m really okay, y/n.” he smiled at you, moving his hand to gently tilt your head towards him to press a kiss to your forehead. He had acted on impulse, he wanted to make you feel better. Normally if he flirted it was all just a little game to make you blush, and normally because he was drunk and had a soft spot for you, but this was just kindness. Maybe that wasn’t the most obvious trait Javier displayed but he had a good heart just as you thought you did and this small gesture made that weight much less heavy.

“no nicknames? Now I know it’s serious.” You joked and he smiled, you felt better when he smiled. You hesitated for only a second before wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He laughed a little and wrapped his unscathed arm around you. You had a spark about you, enough grit to survive but enough heart to not be warped by all this.

“Javier? y/n? you finally back?” You heard Bills voice and pulled away, a little sheepish as you looked at him, wandering out here for guard duty. “oh, am I interruptin’?” he spoke mockingly, and you were surprised he was even intelligent enough to mock anyone.

“we’re back.” You responded flatly, taking your horses reins to lead her back to camp. Bill tried to give Javier a knowing look but much to his dismay he was ignored.

Of course, when you arrived back in camp Dutch wanted to know how it had gone and you handed over half of the money just as you were told. He didn’t ask anything else once the money was in the box. He didn’t even ask why there was blood on Javier’s shirt. Upon arrival into this gang you had wondered why people did whatever Dutch said but already you noticed that you were doing the same. He spoke so confidently, every word that slipped past his silver tongue was dripping with charisma and you did as he asked without even stopping to think whether or not it was a good idea.

Javier was ready to leave and volunteer for guard duty again before you stopped him, taking his good arm and pulling him back towards you “hey, come.” You dragged him along to one of the tables and he reluctantly obliged, bewildered as he may be. “let me see,” you waited expectedly, and he stared back at you blankly. “what? You want it to get infected? You want to lose that arm?” you’d had your moment of weakness, but you were concerned for him now. Harmless as it may be this injury surely hurt. “so let me see.”

“so you want me to take my shirt off?” he looked bemused still, not expecting his own personal doctor over this tiny injury.

“don’t get shy on me now. I promise not to faint.” You quipped, skimming through the exceedingly lacking medical supplies you’d found once you’d paid your pound of flesh you owed to this gang into the chest, but you wouldn’t need much. The wound was minor, just a scratch as he said but you took your responsibility for it.

He glanced around camp, not many people were around anyways, it was early afternoon and the sun was still high in the sky. Most people were out at this hour. “Well if you really insist Chiquita. Do your worst.” He slipped off his shirt to give you access to the small would on his left arm.

Your eyes drifted down to his body for a moment, you couldn’t help yourself, but you tried to keep your focus on the task at hand. You noticed a few more scars on his body that were previously hidden under his clothes and pondered how he got them all.

You looked at the small gash and dabbed alcohol on it as gently as you could but he still sucked in air through his teeth, he was pretty sure this was more painful than leaving it to get infected but he went against instinct to keep his arm still to humour you.

“sorry,” you apologised when he flinched, easing off to give him a moment to adjust before continuing on. You were no doctor, but you knew to keep wounds clean and covered so that’s what you did. He watched you closely, not accustomed to this attention but enjoying your touch and observing the focus on your face until you were done and looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “I guess now I owe you two, once for this mess and again for saving me up on that mountain.”

“that was Dutch,” Javier corrected you, he had happened to be the one to find you but around here Dutch was boss, he was the one who allowed you to stay. He was quite sure that he was the reason you stayed too, Dutch was the glue that kept everyone together and there wasn’t a man or woman here who didn’t trust him with their life.

“I don’t think so. Besides, you’ve been kind to me since I arrived.” you spent more time with him than anyone, something about him drew you to him right away. “I mean, every person here has been nice to me. Other than maybe Micah but I don’t think he has a kind bone in his body.”

“ah, Micah doesn’t count as a person.” He joked as he slipped his shirt back on and pulled out cigarette paper to begin carefully rolling a cigarette. He gave you a sideways glance as he did “y/n? Today…was that the first time you shot someone?” when he asked you this your smile quickly vanished which almost made him regret asking.

He was too blunt, and you stammered in your response. “uh…yeah. First time killing someone at least.” You looked down at his hands fiddling with the cigarette paper to avoid the steady gaze of his deep brown eyes. Killing was something he was perfectly accustomed to but as he looked over to see you shuffling uncomfortably in your seat, he realised that was not the case for you. He offered you the neatly rolled cigarette as if that would be helpful now but you shook your head and he set it aside.

“are you alright?” a stupid question really but what else was he to say? He could hardly remember what it was like to kill for the first time.

“I’m alright.” You were lying really but you’d get used to it. Everyone else already had after all.

“you know he would of shot me if you hadn’t shot him. You shouldn’t feel guilty.” He offered, watching you carefully still as if he was worried you might break. You had been rather fragile when you had arrived back at camp.

“I know.” You paused, not wanting to talk about this despite Javier’s good intentions to console you, “why are you looking at me like that? You gonna kiss me again?” your smile was just a little less bright after that particular topic had been discussed but you couldn’t resist throwing this back at him again and it made him laugh as he lit up his cigarette.

“maybe I will, Princesa. Would it make you feel better? I can if you really want me to.” he took a deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling the smoke slowly. You felt yourself blushing a little and turned your face away.

“you wish,” you were still lying but you at least managed to play off your reaction as a dramatic eyeroll. Javier laughed as he took another drag of his cigarette. You’d never liked the smell of tobacco before but on him you did. “next time I should go out alone,” you announced after a few seconds of admiring the man in front of you. “then I won’t get anyone hurt.”

“no.” he replied too quickly “no. That’s too dangerous. Dutch wouldn’t allow it. If you want to go out again come find me.” He was uncertain if he used Dutch as an excuse, either to save face and not embarrass himself in front of you or to save face and not admit to himself that he liked you more than even he was saying. Either way it didn’t matter, he had signed himself up to stay by your side and you gladly agreed.

“Okay. I’ll find you.”

hello. we haven't met but you're one of the writers that I read every time I seek inspiration. I think your writing is really refreshing and full of motion and life and I'm a bit amazed by how you have wonderfully captured the voices of so many characters and let them play in different settings without stripping them of their distinct personalities

(...) it's just really interesting to me that you, in my opinion, embrace these characters and delight in them and portray them so accurately and respectfully. It's masterful. So I wanted to ask -- how did you become so good at capturing the voices of different characters and works? or was it something you were always good at that just comes to you naturally?

(...) and another question, sorry to just bombard you like this -- but I was wondering if you have any published original works that you don't mind sharing? I just wondered how your own characters might sound like so I wanted to ask. I'd like to be a lifelong fan to be honest, you're fantastic. hope friday is treating you well.

hello, friend! first of all, I am so, so floored by these messages—this is such generous praise, and to be perfectly honest as I find myself teetering on the edge of a year in which my relationship with writing was rocky at best it’s taking a lot of work to convince myself I deserve it, haha. but I am so happy that this is the experience you’ve had with my stories, and I want to honor it as best I can, no matter what my insecurities might say (and they say a lot). so, thank you, so very much. I work at all of the things you mentioned very, very, very hard, and hearing that you See them means more to me than I can describe. I am deeply honored to be a writer you turn to for inspiration. that’s so surreal to me—but wonderful. 

second, to answer your questions... I don’t know that character voice is something that “comes to me naturally”—I find that term can be misleading—I would say that character voice is something that has always naturally interested me, and consequently that I have always naturally paid a lot of attention to it. when I was a child I loved to impersonate the voices of my family members, my friends, and even (and especially) animated characters—finding ways to emulate their pitch and cadence, their vocabulary, little turns of phrase they invoked, etc. I’m still told I have a gift for vocal imitations. I think maybe that’s where it started? I just find speech to be the most effective mode of characterization, and always have. 

when you say that I “embrace the characters and delight in them,” that’s almost entirely what it is, haha. if I am writing fic about characters then it means that I really, really, really love them, and thus have spent a lot of time observing them in their source story; paying attention to what they say, what they don’t say, how they say it—and how all of that might change depending on who they’re talking to. 

this same principle applies to writing emulations of written styles—it’s not so much about choosing the exact right words, but knowing how and when to say them. observing how an author chooses to say things, and how their own forms of expression translate into their characters. because any given character, after all, isn’t an entity unto themselves—they’re the product of someone else’s imagination, their feelings and their experiences, and how they codify those into their own systems of expression. written language is boundless in this way. everyone’s systems of expression are different, and are comprised of entirely unique combinations of things they’ve read and heard and witnessed. the same can be said for the characters that are born of those experiences; like us, the ways they speak and think are entirely individual, always changing, always evolving; there are, as a writing professor i had once said, “layers of existence and layers of access.” situationally, interpersonally, a character’s voice can completely change. there is so much to discover in that, and I’ve always been intrigued by that more than maybe any other aspect of writing—especially in fic. that’s the greatest joy of it for me, actually, is using it as a laboratory for character voice. 

mostly, though, I look at the ways that the writers I admire do it and analyze them VORACIOUSLY. which I think is the root of being a writer. we teach each other. 

I don’t know if any of that made any sense—but I would be happy to talk about it with you more and hear about your own thoughts on that process. it’s something I love discussing with other writers. because it’s totally different for everyone. 

I have never had any original work published... but I hope to, someday. this year I was accepted into a writing workshop that will ideally help me with that, but of course it was postponed and of course I am weirdly ambivalent about getting my stories published. I’m more interested in the building of the bridge, as it were; what I want is to have a finished story that I can feel good about, and after that point I just kind of let it be. (which my fellow workshop attendees, all of whom are significantly more accomplished in that regard, gently poke at me for, haha.) if I ever am published anywhere, I will probably sneak a link on here. I just try to keep this long-running fandom blog separate from my actual life. :)

I’m still weaning myself off of fic in a lot of ways, but I’m getting there. in the meantime, I will work hard to keep making good stories that are worth your while and are worth your admiration, which I am, again, very flattered to have. 

friday is treating me very well, because these messages were in my inbox when I woke up  :’) so thank you for that. I hope that life as a whole has been as kind to you as it can be, times being what they are. thank you so much again. 

Not Hollow Chapter Four: Search

“We’re going to kill the Radiance,” Hornet said as she strode into the living room where Hollow had seemingly decided to wait.

Hollow looked up at her from where they sat on the couch. It was impossible to even guess how they felt about her declaration or about Grimmchild still hanging limp and unconscious in her arms. The lack of response made her entrance not quite as dramatic as she would’ve liked… oh well.

“I don’t know how yet, nor do I care,” those were things to figure out later, “but we’re killing her.” Because fuck any other plan to deal with her, the only way to make sure she was dealt with permanently was for her to die. “Or at least I am.” It’d be unfair to ask or expect them to face the source of their suffering. Especially since even though she helped them train with their nail fairly frequently, they weren’t anywhere near as strong as they once were. There was a good chance if she brought them into battle with her that they’d end up being more of a hindrance than an asset. … Could she kill the Radiance by herself though? … That was another issue she’d figure out later. “You don’t have to help with the killing her part if you’d rather not face her.”

Hollow nodded as they seemed to relax a little. Good, they approved.

“As soon as Grimmchild recovers, I’ll head out to start searching for a way I can access the Dream Realm.” She needed to make sure Grimmchild would be okay and all three of them needed to eat some anyway. Rushing things unnecessarily wasn’t going to help anyone.

 -

When Grimmchild woke up a few hours later he made his displeasure known immediately, teleporting out of Hollow’s bedroom and flying into the kitchen to make distressed and mildly angry mewling sounds at mostly Hornet. He was scolding her about the whole Ghost thing, wasn’t he? … Well, she did kind of deserve it.

“I know,” she said, hiding a sigh of relief over the fact that he was evidently perfectly fine. “We’re going to fix it, I promise. But first,” she stood up grab him by the tail, pulling him down to her eye level, “you need to understand that you made it worse.”

He flinched. Good, he definitely understood her.

“What made you think going in there was a good idea? It drains anyone who isn’t made of void and that’s you. If I hadn’t gone in there to investigate you probably would’ve died from it. And you caused Ghost to crack.” Not necessarily, it could’ve been something else, but the timing was just too close for it to be a coincidence. “So you made things so much worse for them and everyone else in Hallownest.”

He stopped flapping, letting himself hang upside down by his tail in her grip. Pulling his wings in on himself, he chirped in an almost dejected tone. An attempt at an apology?

She glared at him. “You better be sorry.” Ghost had gone through enough without that … and Hornet had let them. That was besides the point though, she’d had no choice. She’d tried to stop them in Greenpath and warned them in the City of Tears but they’d continued on as she knew they would.

“And now, you’re going to help me kill the Radiance, got it?”

He perked up, making an interested mewl. Then he started flapping again and she let him go. He then flew around her head, making similar sounds to the ones he made when spitting fire but not actually doing so. He was apparently ready and eager for battle, good.

“I need a way to access the Dream Realm though. I know you can access it pretty much whenever, right? So is it possible for you to bring me with you?” That would be the easiest solution.

He paused to think for a few seconds before shaking his head. Not surprising but still a disappointment. That just meant Hornet needed find another way. And now that she’d had some time to calm down and give it some more thought she maybe had a potential lead on how to do it.

If Ghost couldn’t do it naturally – as evidenced by the fact that Hollow couldn’t – they’d had to have learned it or gotten something that let them do it. Either way it was a skill they’d most likely gained sometime after she’d lost track of them in Crystal Peak. It maybe wasn’t the best place to start, especially with how long they’d been out of her sight after that, but it was something. So after a quick nap, she’d head out that way and hope for the best.

 -

Crystal Peak was one of the places she’d explored the least in all her time watching over Hallownest. It was way too bright and the way sounds echoed off the smooth surface of the crystals was unnerving. And at times it seemed as if the crystals let off their own almost ringing sound that was even more unsettling. So overall it was not a place she liked, give her the complete darkness and skittering of unseen things present in Deepnest over this any day. She was here on a mission though so she had to stay.

Except she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. When Ghost had entered Herrah’s Dream to break her Seal, something had flashed in their hand that they’d swung similar to a nail. Her hiding spot hadn’t given her a good view of it and she hadn’t been looking to see it anyway. And she hadn’t been present when they’d dealt with the other Dreamers. So there was no way for her to know what it even was let alone where she might find another one, assuming there even was another one. If not, she’d have to figure something else out.

It only took her about an hour of searching before she felt ready to give up. She didn’t know what she was looking for and didn’t even know for sure it was in Crystal Peak. She’d lost track of Ghost for a while after they’d entered the place, they could’ve gone to a number of other areas and gotten the power from one of them instead. She needed a better lead if she didn’t want to waste time searching every inch of Hallownest. … Would the Teacher’s Archive have information on what she was looking for? Perhaps, it was probably her best bet for any more information. So… off to Fog Canyon she went.

But not long after entering she regretted it as she just barely managed to dodge the exploding center of an ooma. “Are you trying to get us killed?” she growled, glaring at Grimmchild, the one at fault. “I told you not to attack them.”

He mewled innocently at her, even tiling his head a little as if he was trying to be as cute as possible. Well she wasn’t swayed by it this time. She should’ve insisted he stay behind to keep Hollow company, too late now though.

“Never do that again.”

The very next ooma they ran into, he did it again. Leaping away before the fireball even hit it, she managed to dodge fairly well this time. That didn’t make it okay though. And she wasn’t taking a third chance so not in the mood to deal with sending him back home after coming all the way out here, she started unspooling some thread. It didn’t take long to fashion it into the beginnings of a collar and leash combo and muzzle.

Grimmchild flew in to investigate what she was doing, just as she’d hoped for, making it easy to jump him and attach it before he could even react much. As soon as he realized, he yanked back but it was too late. He chirped and mewled in distress, the muzzle letting him open his mouth not even half way.

“I told you twice not to attack them. You’re smart enough to understand my words as well as what’s going on around you so you should’ve known better. Now, let’s go.” She tugged on the leash part of the thread as she resumed walking. He continued to complain and tug against the restraint but she ignored it. He was forced to eventually come along lest he fall to the ground and get dragged because she wouldn’t hesitate to do that. She was not messing around right now, she was on an important mission.

 -

Hornet had been to the Archive a few times before back when it was still up and running. The first time had been with Herrah before the Dreamers had gone to Sleep though she’d been too young to remember much of it other than Monomon was a giant jellyfish and Lurien – he’d been there too, it had been some kind of meeting or something – had been a jerk and she’d bit him because of it much to the delight of everyone else in the room. She hadn’t been back since it had ceased being operational though.

It was vastly different now, didn’t even feel like the same place. The halls were empty except for the occasional floating ooma or uoma and utterly silent. It was almost kind of creepy in a way but she ignored it.

All was going well until she was quickly reminded of that fact that she didn’t know how information was sorted here. And she couldn’t read any of it even if she did know; everything was written in what seemed to be a weird code or shorthand. Which now that she thought about it, Monomon had been well known for doing that, no one but her, her pupils, and any scholars dedicated enough to figure it out could read it.

Scholarly pursuits were not her thing and thus she was completely out of her depth here. But she needed more information and the best place to get that was the Archive so… what did she do? … Well she could ask someone who knew their way around the Archive to help. She knew someone like that even if she’d never properly introduced herself to him. And he was a skilled fighter, he might be able to help with killing the Radiance too… if she decided she wanted help with that anyway. … She hated to ask for help in any capacity though. But at the same time, this wasn’t about her pride, it was about her siblings’ suffering so… off to find Quirrel it was.

 -

She found Quirrel’s nail was abandoned by the Blue Lake. If he’d gone and killed himself, she was going to strangle him. … All right, that didn’t make any sense but she’d be pissed because she needed him.

“I’m guessing you can’t track people, can you?” she said turning to look at Grimmchild. She hadn’t bothered taking the leash and muzzle off yet because she was planning to head back to Fog Canyon with Quirrel as soon as she found him. Naturally Grimmchild was still very displeased about it because he couldn’t attack the husks they encountered either but that’s the price he paid for almost getting her killed twice on purpose.

He mewled dejectedly. It seemed to be a ‘no’ because he made no move to investigate the sword. He was truly useless on this mission which was why she hadn’t wanted to bring him.

Maybe she should just go back to the Archive and wait for Quirrel there since there was a chance he would return eventually, right? It’s where he used to live and work after all. And while waiting, she could work on figuring it out herself. … Nah, he might not return at all and going to find him to do it for her should be shorter than the alternative. So, after collecting his nail, she moved on to continue the search.

 -

She eventually found him in the City of Tears in the clearing that housed the statue of the Hollow Knight. He was with the relic seeker – Hornet couldn’t quite remember his name right now – they were even sharing an umbrella as they looked up at the statue.

Hornet jumped off the windowsill she’d climbed up on to get a good look at the clearing to land in front of them, making them both flinch back a little. “Archivist,” she said, looking Quirrel directly in the eyes. “I need your help with something.”

“I don’t really go by that title anymore,” he replied, his tone surprisingly unannoyed. The look he gave her was filled with suspicion though which made sense. Last time she’d shown herself to him, it hadn’t been the friendliest of circumstances.

“I was unaware you ever went by that title,” the relic seeker said, squinting at him suspiciously.

“It’s complicated.” He shrugged. “And uh… may I ask what’s up with the moth baby?” He pointed at Grimmchild. “It seems kind of cruel to muzzle him like that and why is he with you anyway?”

“He deserves it and he’s with me because… I’m his aunt I guess.” That was probably the best way to describe it. “But anyway, here.” She tossed his nail to him. Why he’d ever abandoned it was beyond her.

He caught it with the ease of a practiced fighter. “I left this by the lake because I’m trying to leave my old life behind.” And now he did sound a tad annoyed. Hornet didn’t care though.

“Well, you’re going to help me kill the Radiance first and then you can do whatever you want with it.”

“Uh… what?”

“You heard me. I need help figuring out how to get to her in the Dream Realm.” She hated to do it but… “And I might need help killing her there too.” The Radiance was a god after all. Hornet was a demi-god but that didn’t make her invincible. “And I’m asking you for help because I need information from the Archive.”

“Well, I suppose I can…” Quirrel began before being interrupted by the relic seeker.

“I demand to know what this is about.”

“I don’t have time to explain.” And Hornet didn’t care to explain to an outsider anyway. It was bad enough that she had to deal with Quirrel, no way was she letting anyone else in on this. “Ask you boyfriend about it when he’s done helping me.”

He flinched at the word ‘boyfriend’. “He’s not… we’re not… we’re just…”

Hornet was tired of this conversation. “Let’s go,” she said as she grabbed Quirrel by the wrist and started dragging him away.

“Uh… I guess I’ll see you at the shop later Lemm,” he said, not fighting her at all. “I’ll try to explain things then. Now uh…,” he directed towards her now, “sorry I don’t know your name but… does this mean that the… vessel fellow failed?”

“My name is Hornet and yes, they failed, just like the first one. And I refuse to stand for it any longer which is why I’m finally doing something about it.” Now that she could. She should’ve done something sooner, like before Ghost had taken on the Radiance but better late than never, right?”

“Hmm… I suppose I’ll help in any way I can then.”

~

And so Quirrel is here now too I guess. I didn't plan for that, it just kind of happened.

A bit past this point is what I had written up to when I decided to start uploading. I have since written more obviously but the next chapter gave me a bit of trouble and I'm still not entirely happy with it so I might do another big heavy edit or full rewrite to the part of it I'm most displeased with. So next chapter might take a bit longer to come out than these other chapters have.

A Hell Of A Good Place (2/2)

Author’s Note: Second part of the Trevor imagine. Less long than the first part, but I hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Trevor x Reader; slight!Eleanor x Reader

Warning: Spoilers for season 1 and 2.

Word Count: 3584 words.

Summary: The story of how a demon named Trevor falls in love with you and tries to keep it a secret.

Part One - This is Part Two

Edit found here.

Trevor doesn’t understand why he’s been so obsessed with you.

First, you’re a human. A filthy disgusting human who ended up in The Bad Place, so it’s pretty clear to him that you’re a shitty person in disguise. Second, he has been working with other demons since the beginning of time, and he has not met anyone as annoying as you. The whole time he was by your side in the first version of The Good Place, you kept smiling and laughing at his comments, listening to him when he told you torture stories and always nagging him about the fact that he might like you.

So. Annoying.

But yet, the whole time he was there, he thought about you constantly, your pretty smile shaking his cord every time you gave it to him. So of course, when Michael “kicked him out”, the first thing he did was to steal your file and study it over and over and over and over and over-

Until the moment he knew every single thing about you; from the day you were born to the day you died. All the good and bad things you did, all the smiles, the laughs, the cries, the depression… It’s simple: if there was a test about your life, he would fucking ace it and even get a better score than you.

But somehow, even after reading absolutely every single detail about you, your pretty smile kept hunting him and he fucking hated it. He couldn’t understand why you were still in his head; you, a disgusting human. Not even torturing his favorite subjects kept you away from his mind. Gosh, why couldn’t you just go away? That’s when he realized that reading about you wasn’t the same as spending time with you and that, in order to destroy that obsession once and for all, he needed to see you again.

So when he heard about Michael’s project getting another chance, he convinced him to let him have a better role.

It was fucking perfect. He got to be your soulmate, which meant that he could, one, get to know you in person, second, torture you (which is always fun), and three, if Eleanor somehow fell in love with you again, he could also torture her just by being with you.

Nothing could express how proud of himself he was, his arm linked with yours when you both walked around the welcoming party the first day. The only thing bothering him was the fact that you were silent, tensed and distant. Where was the human who smiled at his words, teased him and didn’t stop herself to insult him when she was annoyed? Were you acting like that because he was now a mere human soulmate to you instead of a demon coming to take your friend away? That didn’t make sense. Why would you be friendly to a dangerous demon, but excessively cold towards your own soulmate? Was your brain even working right?

You weren’t normal, that’s for sure, and knowing that somehow increased Trevor’s obsession on you.

He perfectly remembers the moment where Tahani caused a fire in a drunk state (which wasn’t supposed to happen according to Michael). But he mostly remembers how the flames captivated your attention, giving him an opportunity to make you talk to him openly… which he gladly took.

“You like the fire, Pretty Smile?”

You had jumped up at his voice, turning your head to him with a pang of guilt in your eyes.

“… is it bad to say that I find it pretty?”

He couldn’t help the grin forming on his lips when he heard that.

“You do like fire, huh...” That’s a thing that wasn’t written in your file, along with your passion for torture stories. Has the system didn’t gathered the right information about you, or did you just suppressed everything for a long time?

Back then, he didn’t know that it was both.

“Oh god, it’s bad, isn’t it?” You had panic and freed your arm from his, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I need to go.”

And he let you leave pretty easily since he didn’t really care… but if he had known that Michael would have yelled at him and his coworkers for losing sight of you and the other humans and that you somehow met Eleanor and Chidi on your way out, he wouldn’t even have let you out of his grip.

Because, believe it or not, Eleanor had the time to write a note with “Find Chidi and (Y/N)” on it in the first version, and she also had the time to hide it inside Janet’s mouth. You then met Chidi and Eleanor after the fire incident, and when your pathetic human friends learned who you were, they showed you the note and convinced you to go at Eleanor’s place to discuss it in secret.

He hated it how you looked at him when you learned that he and everyone else were demons. You see, you weren’t looking at him in hatred, in disappointment, in sadness or even like you were feeling betrayed. No, you see… you looked at him like you were expecting it, not even bothered by it. It was like you learned an ordinary fact and your mind had immediately toss it in a not important corner.

And that’s what he absolutely hated. He hated getting no reaction from you.

So now he didn’t just want to know more about you: he wanted to get as much reaction out of you as possible... and that meant being the absolute fucking perfect boyfriend and best friend to you (and then crush you with the truth when the time will come). So he was glad when Michael reset the whole thing again, even if it was without Shawn’s approval (heck, he didn’t care about that part. He lives to break rules as long as he has fun).

But no matter what he did in the next couple of tries (yes, tries. Michael kept fucking everything up somehow), you were still acting distant and awkward towards him. It was weird watching you force a smile every time he’d say or do something nice. It was like you were seeing kindness as a form of hidden violence. But, when enough time passed in certain timelines, you would slowly open up and let him in, cracking a few jokes and not tensing up every time he would talk.

Those moments were great, cause it meant that he could start to really know you, but freaking Eleanor kept learning that she was in The Bad Place and they had to restart before he had the chance to do so. Also, Michael kept asking him about finding a faster way to get you to open up, which was a real puzzle that no one knew how to solve (except for the others humans… Ugh! How do they do that so easily?)

Anyway, he thought that maybe he wasn’t sweet enough for your taste. I mean, he was already extremely nice to you, but maybe you needed some super extra effort or something. He wanted to gag at that. Why do humans need so much kindness and support? These were such disgusting acts that he really didn’t want to do, but he did them anyway.

And it didn’t work. It really didn’t work.

You were acting even colder and more distant, at the point where you were rolling your eyes at him, sighing constantly and sometimes just plain out leaving when he was talking and not looking directly at you. He had to contain himself to not strangle you. You were talking to a demon, honey. Maybe you should rethink before doing those things?

Of course, you had no idea who he really was, so he couldn’t really punish you like he would have wanted… But what was wrong with you? Couldn’t you see how much effort he was putting into this fake relationship? The fuck was he supposed to do to make you like him?!

He hated that you would go to Eleanor for love; always laughing at her jokes, comforting her, helping her… He just wanted to snap her neck right in front of you every time you went to see her, but he contained himself. He always contained himself.

He just needed to be more patient with you, right?

Well, he couldn’t stay patient, so one day, he just snapped.

And you dismissed his anger by looking away in guilt when he confronted you about “seeing someone else” even though you already had a soulmate (and he did that despite Michael telling him that he shouldn’t do it yet… but he didn’t care anymore). He didn’t like that you were so quiet, so he kept asking you why he wasn’t enough for you, basically screaming at you some dumb cliches things humans say when they know they’ve been cheated on. But you just kept apologizing without even answering his questions, your body getting tenser the more he argued with you.

“For fork sake, (Y/N)! Just answer me something!”

“You’re too forking nice, okay?!” He shut up when you snapped back, your whole face red from the frustration. “Nice is awkward, suffocating and not at all attractive! I need someone who can be sarcastic! Someone who can joke about death and torture! Someone who can discuss potential murder scenarios with me! Someone who can act and think evil even if it’s just for one forking moment! But you’re not evil at all! You’re nice! My soulmate is a nice guy and I forking hate it!”

.

.

.

“There! Now you know why I don’t love you. Are you happy now?”

He just smirked at you back then, loving to know that you were actually attracted to his original self.

And he loved it when your cheeks turned red under his stare.

“So you like evil guys, huh?” He had licked his bottom lip in wonder, analyzing this new information about you in his head.

“W-what?” Your eyes had gone wide when he said that, not expecting this kind of reaction.

“Interesting.” He had put his face close to yours, observing your blushing mess. “Very interesting.”

A huge feeling of satisfaction had washed over him when he saw your soul squish in upper attraction, his words and his actions now fully having the influence he wanted to have on you in the first.

“I wonder how many more things aren’t written in your file...”

“File?” You had tilted your head in confusion. “Why would you have access to my file- Oh my god!”

He lost his smirk when you stepped back from him, a scared expression on your file.

“You’re not human, aren’t you? You wouldn’t have access to my file if you were one… and if we were in The Good Place, you wouldn’t have to hide it.. so this must be The Bad-”

Let’s just say that he was the one to force the reboot this time.

He still remembers Michael screaming at him for hours. How dare he screwed things up when it was perfect for once? Pff, “perfect”. In what world, Michael, huh?

But it didn’t matter. Trevor didn’t care what Michael said anymore, cause he knew how to seduce you now: being himself… pretty ironic, don’t you think?

So, just to be sure he wouldn’t look like a complete asshole who clearly didn’t deserve to be in The Good Place, he started small. You know, a few sarcastic comments here and there… a small conversation about torture methods in the Middle Ages (which he actually studied to redo them on some subjects, but he was impressed by how strong your own knowledge about it was)… and his proudest accomplishment: the way he subtly showed you how much he hated Eleanor, which pushed you to stop trying to be friends with her in each reset that went forward.

He couldn’t believe that it was working. You were opening up to him! Smiling at him, joking back and even engaging fully on conversations with him! He couldn’t help but smile every time you’d laugh at one of his dark jokes, or admire the murder scenarios you thought in your head. You had a whole dark side of you that was fascinated by the sins of the human world, yet you were too sweet and kind to ever do something bad to someone else…

You were a paradox that was constantly torturing itself just by existing, and he couldn’t quite understand how you could exist himself. He thought you were the perfect combination of pure and evil, thrown out in the human world without any notice then send to The Bad Place to be tortured for eternity. He thought people were wasting your true potential: a human who knew how to physically and psychologically torture anyone, but who also knew how to help anyone grow and be a better person.

You were just… a miracle. In his eyes, at least.

He was surprised when you kissed him first, not only because you were the one who engaged it, but also because he noticed that… despite the fact that he, one, was kissing (which is gross, by the way. Mouths weren’t built for that), and second, was kissing a human (double gross)… he didn’t hate it as much as he thought he would... He quite enjoyed it, actually: your mouth moving with his, his arms around your waist, your fingers in his hair...

Let’s be honest, he just fucking loved it.

So he then took every opportunity he had to get his hands on you, his lips always kissing a part of you (your hands, your lips, your neck- anything). He also started full-on make-out sessions in public, especially if it was in front of the other humans. Gosh, he loved how uncomfortable they were when he did it, particularly Eleanor and her hurtful sad expressions. So precious.

And he loved how you would giggle and smile under his attention. He never thought he would think that about a human, but you were so cute and adorable all the time, even when you were describing a gruesome murder you once read in an article.

He didn’t want to have sex with you, though. Taking that kind of trust from you when he wasn’t fully in an honest position somehow felt… wrong. Which was also some absolute bullshit he didn’t understand. If he was the fake soulmate of any other humans, he would have fucked them without even thinking about it. So why the hell couldn’t he just do that with you too? Was something wrong with him now? Did your messed up brain mess up with his brain?

But the frustration always disappeared every time he’d look at you, always vibrant around him, a soul full of beautiful colors with pitches of gray and black. You were a beautiful painting he could just stare at for hours… so pretty, so kind, so dark, so alive.

One day, though… things went too far.

He still doesn’t know what had gotten to him that day. You were just having a nice day with him and your human friends, Chidi and Eleanor. You called it a double date if he remembers correctly. You were clearly having fun with them, but he wasn’t. They were cockroaches trying to steal you away, and he didn’t understand why he had to hang out with them. He was pretty tensed the whole time, saying a lot of mean sarcastic comments about Eleanor specifically, and when she had the nerve to replace a strand of your hair behind your ear, he just-

It was the worst blood bath he ever created, and the way you screamed at what he did, absolutely horrified, it made him feel like his own soul was sheared.

If he didn’t threaten to tell everything to Shawn, Michael would have fired him that day. But he didn’t, the threat of getting forced to retire too important, and so Trevor got a lot of other chances to be sure he wouldn’t… snap like that again. Instead, he made sure you were always safe, from him and any of his coworkers, and his kisses were more long and sweet (though he would still do the rough ones because it was in his nature and he knew you loved them).

And everyone started to act differently around him, too. He kept catching his coworkers giving him the stink eye from afar, avoiding you every time you’d be with him… Hell, even Michael had started to look at him differently since the incident, like he knew something Trevor didn’t.

“Are you sure you’re not… getting too close to (Y/N)?”

Michael’s question had taken Trevor by surprise back then, the demon having frowned in confusion.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

The eternal being had then moved on to another topic, ignoring Trevor’s question, but the question still made the demon question himself. Was he getting too close to you? Nah, that’s impossible. You were still a filthy human, and he was an evil eternal being. He just wanted you to stay his and his only… nothing to worry about, right?

The last reset… felt like someone was stealing you away from him. You were acting friendly and loving with him, just like you would have been in the other reset… but you were looking at him differently and you were becoming more distant as the days went by. You disappeared a lot of times in the week, and he wouldn’t know where you went or with who you were. One day he asked Michael about it, and he said that you were just taking personal walks around the neighborhood. The answer calmed him down for a while, but he eventually stressed about it again. Why were you taking so much of lonely walks in this reset when you didn’t use to do that before?

Then, Shawn came back, still unaware of all the resets, and he decided that it was time to end the project.

When you learned about how he was a demon the whole time, he saw you act surprised, but your eyes were saying that you already knew. That shocked him in such a way, he just didn’t know how to react himself. Did Michael forget about erasing your memory before the last reset? Did you act like you didn’t know what was going on so the torture wouldn’t get worse?

He didn’t have a chance to ask you about it in private, cause you and the other humans had become little toys to display in front of the coworkers. The roast wasn’t as fun as he would normally enjoy, and he absolutely hated the whole party his coworkers were and are still throwing right now. All he could think about was how much physical torture you’ll have to get through for the rest of eternity, and how much he wouldn’t be able to survive that.

So, when everyone had their back turned, he took you by the arm and forced you to follow him in a quiet corner, where he proceeded to try to convince you to run away to Mindy St-Claire’s. He didn’t care if he was going to be forced into retirement, he just wanted you to be safe.

But here you two are now, you looking at him in silence right after you asked him why he’s helping you, his messed up brain almost blowing up while he tries to find the answer he himself doesn’t really know.

Cause Trevor doesn’t know why he’s helping you right now, just like he doesn’t know why he has been obsessed with you in the first place, nor why he has grown so attached to you. He doesn’t know why you seem so perfect in his eyes, why he wants to kiss you all the time or why he wants to rip off Eleanor’s head every time she would simply just talks to you. He doesn’t know why you manage to make him feel important, and he doesn’t know why he wants to protect you from everything. He doesn’t know why he’s not being the worst being in the universe with you, nor why he doesn’t want you to see him as the worst being in the universe to you. He doesn’t-He doesn’t-

Fuck.

He’s in love with you.

He’s fucking in love with you.

Fuck!

When he comes back to his senses, you’re already gone (probably one of his coworkers forcing you back to the party). It’s pretty ironic how you seem to disappear just when he realizes his feelings for you. What is this, some kind of cliché soap opera?

Despite his efforts, Trevor’s unable to find you for the rest of the evening, nor for the whole the night, or even the morning after. He panics the whole time: what if one of his coworkers has done something to you? Are you agonizing somewhere?

That’s until he learns from Shawn and Michael that you, the other humans and Janet have escaped to Mindy St-Claire’s, the news making his entire soul sigh in relief. Though he acts like it’s a horrible situation that needs to be solved fast, and he goes on the train with a sarcastic grin that he sends to all his coworkers, thinking about you with a sinking heart.

Even though he aches to hold you in his arms, he hopes he never sees you again… 

Because that would mean you’ll be doomed for eternity.

The Final Lab

.......... is really, really weird.

just what I’d expect from someone who may or may not have set up the love key system tbh

Is it weird to consider this the Mastermind’s Lab? .... Maybe?

Oh. Oh, that’s what you meant. Also, damn - does it spread out as far across as the AV room too?

Sure they are. Yup. They’re definitely here. Oh, hiding? ....... I don’t know if I’d go that far.

OH THE MUSIC CHANGE

I did think it was weird that the music hadn’t changed when we walked in there!

.... this is so oddly conspicuous.

OH IS THAT WHERE THAT THING FROM THE JUNKO-SCENE WAS THIS WHOLE TIME

Wait, what? We were supposed to find this room???

.......

The, uh. The what now.

I... guess there’s no denying that this is connected to the old games then. Btw, totally random, but I like that little ‘tinny’ filter they have on Monokuma’s voice. It’s a nice touch.

- says Sweetcheeks, to the giant Monokuma head

I mean, I know he means ‘are you the Monokuma that’s been in charge of everything this whole time or are you a separate entity’ but it just sounds kinda funny that’s all. 8′D

Anyway, it confirms that but goes on -

.... IS THIS YOUR WAY OF TRYING TO DIVERT MY ATTENTION FROM THAT WHOLE ‘WE HAVE TO PROTECT OUR REAL MOTHER’ FROM CHAPTER 4. 8/ I’M NOT BUYING THAT THIS IS THE MOTHER YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT.

Though with that said, uh, what’s with the sudden ‘maternal’ imagery???

I wonder if the Monokubs were made there too... they’re separate from Monokuma, but they were obviously replaced. Also, that... doesn’t... look like a machine that could make new Monokuma, but I’m going to choose to believe this for now only because it’s something that was brought up in Chapter 1 too. I can’t think of a reason why this could be untrue...

That’s a good point. I mean, unless there’s a hidden area behind there that have pre-made Monokumas that just need to be activated or something? That would make more sense...

“Duh-doi.”

That’s true. This is... weird. I’m just - I’m just getting a weird vibe in general.

WHY WOULD YOU ASK HIM TO DO THAT WHEN THERE IS LITERALLY A ‘MONOKUMA ET ALL VS STUDENTS’ WAR RIGHT NOW

S T O P

ASDL;KFJASDF okay I actually laughed

also thank god, honestly

oh god it has a good point

DUDE DON’T SAY IT LIKE THAT THAT’S WEIRD

What is happening right now are we trying to call his bluff but what if it isn’t a bluff WHAT IF IT ISN’T A BLUFF -

GUYS PLEASE STOP SAYING THAT THAT’S REALLY CREEPY

But at the same time, why would it lie now? What if the deadline had come way back in Chapter 1 and there wasn’t any firepower to back it up? There... had to have been a way to back up that threat. .... Right? Right? oh god please don’t say Kaede killed for nothing -

“THIS IS WHY WE KEEP GETTING BLOWN UP BY K1-B0, SHUICHI!”

Wait, what? That’s a Monopad? I couldn’t tell from the original angle. ..... A Monopad with blood on it??? And is that a handprint....

WHAT

W H A T

Wait, I’m trying to remember... didn’t he have a Monopad on him when he died? We talked about this already, right? So he started the game with two? hey rantaro why does monokuma let you have two monopads -

ahaha lol bye necklace!perk theory

.... Wait, if it has his handprint on it, isn’t that the one he was holding in the picture?

WHAT HE GETS AN ENHANCED MAP THAT’S CHEATI - oh I guess that’s part of the perk. But still. Still.....

.... Man this would have been so helpful to have from the beginning. 8′/

But there it is - the reason Rantaro knew the exact location of the library door. It was literally laid out for him. The mastermind really did lure him there...

Oh my god this literally spells out what memory he’ll learn next. The mastermind’s moves. Literally everything that would perfectly position him to the perfect spot - this almost seems like it was designed that way! To prey on his paranoia from his missing memories! This wasn’t a hint, this was a fucking set-up from the start!

.... And yet, it was written by him. But it had to have been approved by the mastermind, right? Or at the very least, the mastermind knew about it...

HONESTLY I FEEL LIKE HE WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER OFF WITHOUT IT

Man, past!Rantaro screwed over future!Rantaro really well.

I’m so fired up at how unfair this all was for him ffff he was set up to fail under the guise of it being a perk what the hell, he wasn’t even given a fighting chance at all - ?!

JUSTICE!!! JUSTICE FOR RANTARO!!!!

.... I-I mean, I have no idea who it could belong to.

Oh, he knows. He 100% knows. This is him just living by ‘measure twice, cut once’, a proverb I wholeheartedly subscribe to btw.

And she knows it too.

MAN literally the moment anything Kokichi-related comes up she is up and running to it. It’s a shame she hasn’t been able to shake that ‘KILL THE MASTERMIND!!!’ attitude that caused all the problems in the first place, but at least she seems incredibly determined to make it up to Kokichi’s memory personally...? 8′D or am I reading too much into it again

insert laugh track

INTROVERT BUDDIES :D

I’m sorry WHAT -

what - ?!

It’s just... laying here? In the trash, with nothing else? Another thing we’re supposed to find???

Is that from Kaede’s sweater?

This... is a continuation of the set-up? Just, just leaving this shotput ball here like Kaede just ~has~ to be lurking around here - ??

It... has to be Tsumugi. Between her ‘finding’ the cold room, Kaede’s profile, Kaede’s ‘twin’, just leaving Rantaro’s Monopad out here for us to find, Motherkuma handing out convenient clues and ‘evidence’ of her living in here... it’s all too convenient?

... No, this is a set-up. She’s trying to set up Kaede as the mastermind. And she even had Kaede’s clothes at one point, didn’t she??? For the cospox scene? Did - did Shuichi just realize it was Tsumugi too, then?

...

omg I just remembered Tsumugi being incredibly pissed at Rantaro when he basically made her third-wheel in the nailpolishing scene that was totally going to be the Kaemugi Magnum Opus and telling him to, what was it? ‘Backflip into a landmine and die?’ shinjaeba - it was right there. it was the first comparison I made in my head. I should’ve known in that moment.

That is so darkly hilarious in hindsight, though I still wonder how she knew to count on Kaede’s plan. What if Shuichi hadn’t found the door? Wait, if the Survivor’s Perk ended up here after Kaede’s trap was triggered, does that mean she darted out and nabbed the Survivor’s Perk afterwards??? But... how did she get past everyone in the first place......... Maybe with Monokuma lying in wait in this room, then? If she had an extra in here and Rantaro had opened the door anyway, it would be easy enough... maybe...???

I HAVE A LOT OF QUESTIONS...

oh Tsumugi is encouraging me to continue looking around too

YOU LEFT MORE CLUES TO POINT A FINGER AT THE THEORETICAL MASTERMIND!KAEDE, DIDN’T YOU

So as long as you were quick enough, you could dart in and out of the room via the automatic door to... say... grab a Survivor’s Perk. Got it.

So you mean... it might not matter if you happened to put the receipt signed tape dust on the reader if the mastermind had already gotten in the room, so there’s potentially a chance that it was accessed if Shuichi’s timing/luck was bad?

H-Himiko plz

C-Can we also talk about how while Mother Monokuma is confirming that this is the ‘Remnants of Despair’ room, Tsumugi is the one that keeps pushing for that comparison... she’s, uh, way too hyped about them. I’m just sayin’.

“Well, they are now - oh, crap. Uh. Um. Just. Forget I said that.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY ‘NO’ WE PRACTICED THIS - I MEAN -”

I know the context is inaccurate but seeing Tsumugi sweating like this right here is making me lol - and I think I can stop saying ‘assuming I’m right’, because... I’m... starting to feel pretty confident tbh.

I feel like Motherkuma’s attitude is a bit different than Monokuma’s? Or am I just imagining things? It seems a lot more relaxed about the mysteries of everything than the other one, and certainly the Monokubs. They literally almost blew the students up for trying to get in here!

IT HAS TO BE LOOPING, THERE’S NO WAY YOU COULD SAY THAT IF IT WASN’T LOOPING IN SOME FASHION

Because it would have to end if there were only two people left, but clearly it wouldn’t if there was! And Rantaro is proof that it didn’t end with him, either!

The question is, why is it looping????

HOW MANY MORE CAN THERE BE

oh god they really are getting faster i barely captured anything from this

WAIT WHERE IS EVERYONE ELSE

So... Monokuma is still a recognized figure.

It would have been before Shuichi’s time though, yeah? And of course it would have been recorded as a significant event. I was curious so I looked up what our real life ‘most watched’ events in TV history were and they’re mostly positive, tbh - but not all of them. There were some significant funerals. Anything planned, basically.

'Like they usually do?!’ Okay, they are seriously emphasizing the ‘this game is looping’ angle here - and apparently Shuichi should be aware of this fact? Monokuma’s explaining it all, but it sounds like it’s more of a recap than anything!

He recaps it conveniently for us:

Gofer Project, the state of the world, that they’re the last survivors, their promise to be friends...

Was it like this with the original class? It looks like Shuichi was the last one to be woken up, too. I wonder if that’s significant...?

Wait, but hadn’t they not met each other before this? Or I guess they just forgot their ‘first’ meeting and that was enough...

“Well tbh I was hoping you would monologue about your evil plans for a bit in case I conveniently remembered these memories later, but fine.”

...What a great name for the light. right right shouldn’t be giving the murder-bear props for anything, sorry -

With that said, the flashback in the helmets still bother me -unless that was supposed to be them losing their talents in the first place. .... I’m not... entirely convinced of that, though. I don’t think that image has been confirmed to be associated to the talent-loss, so I’m not going to write it off as that yet.

“That’s oddly specific and is giving me a different set of high school flashbacks - can you get rid of those memories too while you’re at it oh shIT -”

tell me you don’t see sweetcheeks getting shoved into a locker at some point in his life though

Are you sure??? Are you sure?

Again, mass-induced memories - but unlike the ones in the pod room, they didn’t seem to be triggered by anything specifically. I wonder, actually - did the others get that memory as well? Tsumugi apparently did, but -

That’s not your fault!!

aaaaaw she wants to find a clue too 8′D

LMAO you, uh, weren’t ready for the responsibility yet, huh. She wears her anxiety on her sleeve. 8′D

ATTAGIRL!!!

You’ve got this, Himiko! You don’t know this yet, but the meta is on your side! You’ll definitely find something!

Ah, the rare serious Himiko..

So, interesting. We’re splitting up again - Maki’s ahead, Himiko’s behind, and we’re still with Tsumugi. Why are all signs pointing to her so much right now??? Am I going crazy here??? I mean, she’s also the least developed out of everyone left which isn’t helping and we still haven’t seen her cosplay yet (outside of potential!Junko) so....??? So, my girl? Will we ever get to see the power of EVA foam in your capable hands?

Do you think Dabi is Todoroki's brother or Endeavors brother?

Yes, I think Dabi is Todoroki’s brother and either one of Endeavor’s three children he put aside because they did not make the right quirk he was looking for, or another illegitimate child of Endeavor’s. 

To me it’s the narrative consequence that makes the most sense right now thematically, if Endeavor is still being treated like a hero who is an example of a “bad hero” and he is going to have to face what he did in some other way than just trying to be a better hero and punching bad guys.

From the Stain Arc it’s made clear that Endeavor is exactly the kind of Hero that Stain is rallying against. 

A scene which Todoroki was present for, by the way. Dabi introduces himself as somebody who does not need to reveal his name yet, and also somebody who sympathizes with the hero killer’s will. 

Dabi means cremation, his body is covered in burns that not only parallel Todoroki’s burn which is a permanent sign of his abuve he’ll have to carry his entire life but also perfectly parallel the areas on which Endeavor’s flame emerge from his body. On his eyes, on his chin, around his chest and neck area, emerging from his hands and even his feet. [thumbnail taken from here because I don’t have access to photoshop]

I point out these similiarities not as support for the Dabi is a Todoroki theory, but how much narrative sense it makes for Dabi to be a consequence for Endeavor to realize the weight of what he has done. The last few chapters have established a few things about Endeavor’s mindset.

That nobody knows what Endeavor did. He still has yet to actually properly even be suspected or admonished by his colleagues for what he did to his family. That because he was a good “hero” in a sense that he completely got away with using his family like this and treating them as a side project. 

That Endeavor’s current attempts to change are still rooted in the mindset that corrupted him in the first place. He only wants to get better because he thinks this is how the number one hero should act. That what validates him is being the number one hero, not the other way around that he is the number one hero because of who he is as a person. 

If Endeavor really is written to be a takedown of toxic masculinity than Endeavor is still very much in the masculine system of ranks and achievement that caused him to put his own family constantly on the back burner (quite literally). 

The fact of the matter is though, if All Might knew that Endeavor was somebody who pushed a five year old into training so harsh that they were entirely terrified of them, whose own wife is still living in a mental institution years later because of the strain of their marriage he never would have given the kind of advice he did in this chapter.

Endeavor’s path shouldn’t be really in becoming a better hero that finds his place in the hero world, because that’s literally the only thing he’s been trying to do since the start. It should be in realizing that he’s a terrible person even before being a hero and working on that first. Which is why he really does need to be exposed, and why Dabi following Stain’s ideals is such a good set up for that because that is what Stain is about. People became heroes for selfish reasons and because of that the very idea of the word hero is corrupted. Endeavor still uses his role as a hero mainly to validate himself and his own sense of strength, and he still doesn’t really understand what he does to others.

What he says to Todoroki isn’t “I hurt you in the past and I’m sorry” it’s “I’m the number one hero now, so I’m going to prove to you that I’m worth of it” and that’s exactly the same toxic mindset that led to doing what he did in the first place.

Even when he seems to feel remorse for what he’s done, it’s still mostly about Endeavor and Endeavor’s hurt pride and hurt man feelings above all else. 

When fighting against the high end, he still sees his wife and all of his children as products he made to deal with his quirk. He still cares about Shotuo the most, not because of who he is but because he was born with the best quirk. He even literally… sees him as far more detailed and drawn out then the rest of his children, one of the children is not even drawn fully with a face and this is meant to resemble Endeavor’s own perosnal mindscape and reflection.

Everything Natsuo says is valid. It feels like their abuse is being swept under the rug, that Endeavor doesn’t really understand what he did. Not only in messing up Todoroki by giving him his special abusive focus, but also by neglecting the other children just because they weren’t born with the quirk he was interested in. 

So, that is essentially where Dabi comes in, as the embodiment of Endeavor’s flaws. Endeavor’s flaw is that his body can’t handle the heat he generates. That, he cannot handle his own emotions, his own feelings of inferiority, and because of that he burned his family and everyone around him.

Then, if Dabi were to literally have given his scars to himself for two reasons. 1) pushing himself too hard trying to surpass his own father to the point of self harm, because Endeavor created him just for the sake of his quirk and he was born with the wrong quirk, and 2) He reflects Endeavor’s own quality of constantly burning too hot because Dabi was never raised as a child properly and came to reflect the worst qualities of the neglectful father he hated then it makes almost perfect thematic sense. 

Dabi, as the one child who is not drawn within the flashback with a face, as the forgotten part of the family because he was not born with the right quirk becoming Endeavor’s reckoning and forcing him to face the human side of what he left behind not just the hero one. 

If Dabi is a Todoroki then him introducing himself to his father as a total stranger, is near perfect in line with what the other Todoroki brother said earlier. That the rest of the children were just strangers to their father and he never even bothered to raise them. 

Thematically the arc itself fits perfectly, because it would be the embodiment of everything the hero world ignored about Endeavor just because he happened to be a good hero finally coming back to haunt them and making them face the truth. 

200 Stories. WOW!

Did you know that when we launched in 2013 we started with just 20 stories?

It would have seemed unimaginable that 5 years later, we would have a library that has grown so vast with a list of outstanding authors, illustrators and storytellers.

Of course, it’s all due to the phenomenal team behind Story Box Library who work exceptionally hard to give our valued subscribers such a superb range of quality Australian children’s literature in such an engaging and accessible way.

Our stories and storytellers are first rate, and there truly is something on Story Box Library for everyone.

Whether it’s Ali McGregor reading Tashi and bowling you over with her beautiful singing, or Andrew Hansen’s reading of What’s Wrong with the Wobbegong. Andrew’s voices are absolutely hilarious – just how does he remember each voice for the numerous characters in the story?

Possibly Boori Monty Pryor’s reading of his and Jan Ormerod’s book, Shake a Leg made your heart swell? After all, Boori is a master storyteller and an exceptional human being.

And speaking of master storytellers, Danny Katz’s readings of his and Mitch Vane’s Little Lunch stories are a delight. No matter how many times you watch these, Danny continues to make you laugh out loud.

But which stories are the favourite of the Story Box Library team?

Asked to choose only one favourite proved to be an almost impossible task, or in the words of our Educational Consultant, Jackie Small:

“OMG! I don't think you've ever set a harder task. I'm really having trouble. I love so many for so many different reasons. I THINK I've narrowed it down to Bella's Bad Hair Day, I Got this Hat or My Dead Bunny. BUT I NEED MORE TIME! I'm going to take a walk and clear my head and hopefully then I'll have one favourite for you!”

In the end we came up with a very special list of stories that have touched each member of our team in some way. In fact, Mat wanted two. Well, everyone did, but Mat was the only one who assumed I would add his second choice and sent it through to me anyway. Cheeky!

Nicole – Director/Founder

The Bunyip of Berkley’s Creek Read by Nick Cave

As a child, I adored this book and still consider it one of the best Australian picture books of all time. My adolescent years saw me as brooding, gothic teen enamoured with Nick Cave. His music continues to be a part of my life, with one of his songs being played at my and my husbands wedding. Nick Cave was hands down my ultimate storyteller. So imagine the shock and delight I experienced when Nick agreed to read this book for us. Our library has many, many wonderful stories, but nothing quite beats this perfect pairing. And Nick kissed me on both cheeks. Winner! 

Mathew – Videographer

“Can I have 2?”

1. Rodney Loses it Read by Lyall Brooks

Sometimes we really nail the combination of the right book with the right reader. I love how Lyall brings all of Rodney’s craziness out. This was the first story we shot with Lyall and had no idea what we were going to get and about half way through I was just thinking, “OMG, OMG, OMG, this is great, this is great, this is great!”

2. The Queen with the Wobbly Bottom Read by Dolly Diamond

I’ve had so much fun shooting for Story Box library over the years and this shoot was absolutely hilarious, Dolly Diamond really brought the “Queen” to "The Queen” her voices are absolutely amazing. Her voice, especially for the Poet character is magical.

Del – School Liaison

Bear Make Den Read by Anne Edmonds

I love everything about this. From the simple and heart-warming story by Jane Godwin and Michael Wagner, to Anne Edmond's hilarious reading, costume and props, combined with Andrew Joyner's delightful illustrations, and the surprise bear party at the end, this story is truly divine.

Amy – Public Library Liaison

Home in the Rain Read by Zahra Newman

I love this story because it reminds me of driving in snowstorms when I was little. My dad always navigated his way through the fiercest of conditions with ease, making our family car seem like a haven of warmth, comfort and quiet togetherness despite what we witnessed outside. Zahra Newman’s reading of Home in the Rain takes me right back to those moments. Her voice is so peaceful and melodic, lending a contented feel to this sweet time between Francie and her mum.

Fiona – Production Manager

Mopoke Read by Tim Rogers

It goes without saying that Tim’s reading is absolutely hilarious and completely sublime (we were barely able to keep it together in the room while we were filming him!) but I also adore the simplicity of the book, as well as the brilliant way our videographer, Mat, edited it with the split screen. A first for Story Box Library!

Shannon – Videographer

The Brothers Quibble Read by Aaron Blabey

I just love this book and I always thought the way Aaron reads it is exactly the way he wrote it. You get to hear the characters come to life and his reading adds an extra layer to the book. From then on that's exactly how I read the book to my kids too.

Bronwen – Digital Manager

Hark, It's Me, Ruby Lee! Read by Isabella Clarke

Ruby was very high on our shortlist of baby names so we almost had our very own Ruby Lee! I love Ruby's imagination and sense of adventure, that she's eager to help out and try new things, and is a (mostly) great friend. Lisa Shanahan's story is great fun, Binny's beautiful illustrations and colour palette always catch my eye, and it's a lovely reading by storyteller Isabella Clarke.

Jo – Finance & Admin Manager

The Dark & the Ducklings Read by Darren Hanlon

Stephen Michael King and Glenda Millard are my favourite author/illustrator combination and I love this book. Lyrically written about a not so distant future, remembering the past, hope for the future and letting go. Watching the book being read, “sorry drops fell from my eyes” just like in the book. Darren’s reading is simple and warm, allowing the words to weave their magic. The story reminds us that there is always light in the dark.

Jen – Publisher Liaison

When The Wind Changed Read by Colin Lane

I have vivid memories of borrowing and re-borrowing this book from my primary school library, it is one of my all-time laugh out loud childhood picture book favourites. 

Seeing those familiar illustrations after all those years, while watching and listening to the story being told with such animation (those expressions!) by Colin Lane, I got totally swept up and felt like a kid again!

Jackie – Educational Consultant

I Got This Hat Read by Anne Edmonds

I just love the way we brought this short and sweet story to life on the digital screen with clever filming and editing, sound effects and an expressive storyteller (who’s such a good sport too). This story segment is also a fabulous model for extending stories through play with the use of a few simple props. I really think this story encapsulates Story Box Library perfectly.

I would love to see something about maybe Reaper with a S/O who loves toys?? Like colorful dolls and animals and whatnot. I feel like that combination will be interesting! Thank you so much!

All the Colors 

You’re pretty handy with a needle, and you weren’t afraid to make that known with each new doll you made. Reaper, despite being far removed from the man once known as Gabriel Reyes, appreciated it and would say nothing whenever you’d return from a mission with two or three new colorful dolls or plush toys that you’ve crafted mid-transit (even if they were hilariously large and hindered your ability to open doors).

The good majority of Talon could say nothing either. Either because they feared your relationship with Reaper, who had made it clear to everyone on more than one occasion that your interests are not an acceptable point of ridicule, or they feared retribution from you, the group’s chief information broker–it’s common knowledge by now that on your word alone, you can essentially determine who lives or dies (like that one guy who tore one of your stuffed dolphins in half, and then mysteriously got sent off to Antarctica to retrieve a highly radioactive material guarded by a group of hostile Omnics without the proper precautions–the end result was not pretty).

Today, it is no different. He and Sombra see you coming down the hall, an armful of colorful, round somethings, the size of volleyballs. You looked like you had some trouble with them. 

“Oi, wha’chu got there?” Sombra gasps, “Are those new?” 

Your eyes light up when you notice them coming, and you sprint to meet them. “Good timing, you two!” 

Both Reaper and Sombra look at each other. Usually, ‘good timing’ in Talon terms mean that something has happened and everything’s going to go to hell, or someone’s about to be in a very uncomfortable position. This time, it is the latter. 

“Could you hold these for me? I’ll be right back. Gotta grab meet with someone.” Without even waiting for an answer, you shove your inventory into Reaper’s arms with a, “Thanks, I love you!”, and tear down the hall, the echoes of your heels fading fast. 

Both Sombra and Reaper look at the items you’ve forced upon them. 

“Oh no,” the hacker hisses excitedly. “They’re cute.”

‘They’ were bright and cheerful animals, each decorated and embroidered to represent different seasons, are a sharp contrast to his almost fully black attire, and it’s enough to make passing Talon operatives gawk, much to his irritation. 

Even worse is Sombra who insists on taking a selfie (read: as many as Reaper’s patience would allow plus two) with each individual doll in the middle of the hallway. 

Normally, he would not put up with such behavior, but he knows that you and Sombra’s had a mutual understanding or bond over these stuffed creations. (You repaired her bear when it was on the cusp of dying from cotton loss, and that made you her absolute favorite person on base.)

“Y’think I can have one of these?” she asks after her final picture. 

Reaper snatches the one Sombra holds–a gaudy golden and green sheep that’s supposed to represent summer–with lightning speed. “Don’t even think about it.” 

She holds up her hands, smirking slyly. “Whoa, calm down there, big guy. I was just kidding.”

He growls. With Sombra, chances should never be taken. 

She rolls her eyes with an over-exaggerated slump of her shoulders. “Gawd, you act like they’re your kids or somethin’, Gabe. Loosen up.”

Now that was territory he didn’t want to cross into. Luckily, your voice in his earpiece allows him an easy out. 

“Hey, Reap–”

“Where are you?” he growls into his communication device. 

“Sorry, Reaper. I got caught up with some work.” You sound rushed, and he can almost see your eyes rushing back and forth like they usually do when you’re trying to process a lot of information. “You have access to my room, right? Could you take my babies there? I’ll be there soon! Thanks, love you!”

He has half a mind to tell you to do it yourself, but he just grumbles, a sign of his reluctant cooperation. 

Sombra, having no doubt just heard the whole conversation (he swears every single communication device ever issued is bugged), cooes, “Ooh, ‘babies’, huh? Didn’t know you still had it in you, Ga–WHOA, watch it!” 

Reaper mists down the hall, purposefully getting some in Sombra’s face as he makes his way through the base toward your dorm. He takes childish satisfaction at her spluttering and indignant curses in Spanish. 

Again, that was a topic he didn’t want to talk about. Why does he put up with you when all you do is ask unreasonable demands of him? Your requests only bring attention to him that he doesn’t really want and causes people to ask questions that he’s not comfortable exploring. But he finds himself drawn to you anyway, pathetic as it sounds. 

He’s the personification of death–he should be feared, not bending to the simple whims of a person that he l–

Reaper’s thoughts take a convenient break when he reforms to tap in the access code to your room. It slides open, welcoming him inside to the very image he wants to disassociate himself with. Your stuffed creations line nearly every square foot of your Talon-issued dorm room. He’s been in here before, and as usual, feels ridiculously out of place (that’s a common feeling nowadays for more reasons than one).

He sighed heavily before putting your collection of new goods carefully on a empty spot on your table where he thinks they should belong. They fit almost perfectly among their equally bright companions. Half of the table though is buried in scraps of fabric (he recognizes the knit of many of them–felt, towelling, cotton, muslin), and various other sewing supplies amidst your actual work, written in mostly shorthand and pictures that is illegible to anyone except you.

He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to leave or stay. You did say you’ll be there shortly. If he was wrong in his assumptions, he could easily just disappear. 

Although the room itself is very inviting, Reaper does not dare sit down–a soft bed with even softer plush toys, a beanbag in the corner, a small round table with two small lounge chairs for company (he can see they’re already occupied by some stuffed residents, however) all beckon him to sit and relax. 

Reaper resists, and merely stands against a wall, pondering. How did he ever find himself entangled with someone like you? How did his life lead to him standing in a room of dolls, animals, and fabric creatures that belong to someone that wasn’t even his child? (Once, as Gabriel Reyes, he had pictured something like this for someone he loved. However, this was just twisting the concept a little too far.) 

He could tell you were diligent in your work. Each doll sewn by hand and every stitch carefully placed, the expressions and fabrics chosen with specific intent. He couldn’t hate someone like that. 

On the contrary, he liked diligence–admired it, even. He liked people who showed great promise and strove to perfect their talents. Even if your purpose was to make something that caused you (and him) to be secretly ridiculed, he could only encourage your skills–those with potential should hone it, make it bloom, no matter where it brought them. That was what life was about–a life that he no longer possessed. 

The door slide open, and you immediately greet him with a smile and a brush of your knuckles against his mask–he couldn’t feel it, but the intentions are more than enough to warm what little heart he had left. 

“Hey, Reaper. Thanks for before. I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?”

He shrugs noncommittally. It’s not that he didn’t, but he would never tell you that. It’s not important. 

You survey the room quickly and beam upon spotting your newest creations in what seemed to be a fitting spot. “Perfect! You have really great sense, you know that?” 

So he’s been told. “Do you need anything else?” He intends to leave if otherwise–your room is a little too bright for him, and with you here, it’s like the sun’s been crammed into this small space.

“Oh yeah! I wanted to give you something.” That perks his interest a little. “Just finished it last night! I think it fits you!” You pluck out a small object draped in a spare piece of fabric like a veil from atop your desk and hold it out for him. 

He can see that it’s a plush toy from the way your fingers sink into it. He doesn’t know whether to be elated that you’d make something for him or annoyed that you’d go out of your way to mind him so much. It’s not worth your trouble. If anything, he might just give it to Sombra–she enjoys your creations, and he has no use for them. 

Reluctantly, he holds out his hand slowly with a heavy sigh like it’s a chore. But it does not deter you, and you cheerily drop it into his waiting hand, pulling off the veil. 

He looks at the gift shrewdly, and then at you. 

“I hardly see the resemblance.”

It’s a delicately crafted owl, no larger than the size of a baseball. It was a light teal color, almost minty in its appearance, that slowly gradated into a warmer orange toward the bottom. Dark vines were embroidered into it to represent wings, mixed with spots of yellow, orange, red, and pink stitching that could perhaps represent flowers. The owl’s expression looked as though it was sleeping; eyes closed and beak pointed downward, peaceful and comfortable in Reaper’s loose hold, almost as though it trusts him not to crush it. 

It definitely did not look a thing like him. The colors were too lively and warm; it remind him of the coming of springtime–the fading of lifeless frost giving way to the liveliness of grass and flowers. Its expression and body language is too trusting and happy. It did not resemble him in any capacity. 

No, if anything, it was a splitting image of how he saw you. 

And he closed his hand around it softly, the gauntlet clinking as the tips touched, creating a makeshift cage around it. It still looked content. As did you. 

“Does this mean you’ll keep it?” 

“For now.” 

The answer seems to please you, you smile widely. Reaper sneaks a peak at the owl resting in his partially closed hand again and thinks that it really resembles you–if you smiled a little brighter, the owl might actually wake up and stretch to the sky like plants reaching for the sun. 

Damn, he must be getting sentimental in his old age (not that he ages–he’s dead). 

But as an afterthought, he quietly adds, “Thanks.”

And this time, your delighted gasp and smile lights up his whole world, if only for a second and beckons the warmth of something he thought he’s long lost. 

Hey Reddit,​I wrote this post for my blog, but thought you might all find it interesting. Happy to answer any questions!​--​Last week we crossed $15 million in annual recurring revenue (ARR) for ConvertKit, my email marketing company. My original dream was to get to $600,000 in ARR, so I'm pretty thrilled! Over the last six years I've learned and written about quite a few lessons, but it's always fun to reminisce on the highlights, that oddly enough mostly come from the hardest times.1. Focus is everythingIt's fine to start something on the side, but if you want to turn it something real it needs to move to the center of your focus. Years ago I decided to go all in on ConvertKit, moving it from a side project to my only project.Without that decision ConvertKit wouldn't be here today.Anytime someone brags about how many businesses they run I cringe. I'd far rather take one thing and do it really well. I'll leave the serial entrepreneurship for the scattered, the wannabes, or those who are truly far more talented than I am.A friend told me the other day that he was surprised I still only did ConvertKit. At this point we have an incredible team, available capital, and the leverage of an audience. Why not start something else and run it in parallel?Because I know myself.Focus is where I thrive. Focus is where I get results. Focus is everything.2. Choose a nicheChoosing a niche is the easiest advice to give and the hardest advice to take. When you don't have traction, it feels like choosing a niche will exclude the few people who are coming in the door. In reality when we chose "email marketing for professional bloggers" everything changed.Messaging became clear, the product roadmap was trimmed, and the prospect lists practically wrote itself.Without that change—without excluding everyone who didn't fit into the blogger bucket—it would have been incredibly hard to get off the ground.We eventually expanded to "email marketing for creators," which now includes podcasters, actors, YouTubers, authors, artists, musicians, and so many more. Even with growing into that larger audience we are still so much more focused than our competitors who target all small-businesses.3. Use sales to kickstart word-of-mouthWord-of-mouth is the best way to grow a company, but you need traction for the referrals to start. That's where direct sales come in. By choosing a niche, listing out your prospects, and getting in touch directly you no longer have to wait for them to come to you.Each conversation—even though most end in rejection—will teach you so much. At first it's one customer. Then five. Then ten.Immediately you'll notice something crucial: the customers you recruit are higher quality than the ones who just walk in the door. Why would you leave the future of your product up to just anyone who stumbles across what you create?Instead go out and sell to the customers you want. Then ask them for referrals. Finally, when the word-of-mouth referrals kick in, they will be to the right people.4. Do the hard work that doesn't scaleEach sales call would end the same way: "I love what you're doing and I'd love to switch...but it's too much work. Sorry."Ouch. No matter how much convincing I did I wasn't able to overcome that objection. That is until I offered to do the full switch for them for free.That meant getting their account access, moving every form, copying and pasting every sequence email, exporting and importing their subscribers, and so much more! It was terribly unprofitable to do that for a $79/month customer. But early on that was how we got momentum. Every customer matters.So many people told me that wasn't scalable. I needed to use paid ads, SEO, or some other scalable way to acquire customers. That's great if you can make them work, but many can't. So I did the work that no one else was willing to do.John and Patrick Collison famously did this with Stripe. Rather than waiting to follow-up after a promising conversation, they would migrate other startups to Stripe on the spot.Don't wait for the follow-up or have the customer do all the work. Do the hard work that doesn't scale.Today we still offer a free concierge migration for anyone over 5,000 email subscribers. Many of our competitors have copied it and offer it as well.It feels good to make them react to us.5. Find what works and repeat itWebinars were the first scalable growth channel we found that really worked. My first thought was to do those and keep searching for the next thing...but then I realized that we should focus on what's working. We test and iterate like crazy, but then once it pays off we go all in.Over the last three years we've done hundreds of webinars with an incredible number of affiliate partners. They are hard, time consuming, and exhausting. But they work.Run all the experiments. Test. Analyze the data. The when you find something that works be prepared to go all in.6. Building infrastructure to support growth will take far longer than estimatedWe spent our first company retreat fighting fires and rebuilding our server infrastructure. What was supposed to be a time to just connect, plan, and get to know each other turned into an all hands on deck fight to keep our product online.I thought we'd spend nearly all our time building cool new features for customers. But instead the work was in doing what customers care about most: making sure the basics work well. Emails need to send on time and subscriptions need to work flawlessly.There's a lot of software that when it goes down, you just work on something else. Not email marketing. It's core to the entire business and reliability is everything.The infrastructure that was built to support 1,000 customers will break at 10,000. It's crucial to dedicate time to support the growth.7. Funding is optionalRight about now we should be raising a $25 million series A. Or at least that's what our peers are doing. Instead we haven't raised a single dime of outside capital. I put in $5,000 to kick things off, then another $50,000 when I doubled down on ConvertKit.Getting rejected by venture capitalists is one of the best things that's ever happened to me.We built ConvertKit our way, at our pace, and with our values. Every line of code is funded by the creators we serve. I wouldn't have it any other way.8. It's possible with a smaller team than most people thinkToday at ConvertKit we have 38 amazing team members. At $15 million ARR that is nearly $400,000 per team member! A much higher ratio than any of our peers. At this stage 75 employees would be normal.Instead of hiring as quickly as possible to solve every pain, we are deliberate about working on the right things. The constraint requires us to say no, not spread ourselves thin, and only do the highest leverage work.It also means that we can invest in each team member more and carefully craft the culture we want, rather than simply focus on reaching headcount goals.There are always tradeoffs, maybe we could move faster, build more, or support customers better. So we are still striving to find the right balance between team size, efficiency, and total output.9. Culture is everything—and it's not what you thinkWe have so many weird habits as a team at ConvertKit: talking about someone in the third person as if they're not there, long walks in pairs where only one person is allowed to talk, starting meetings by asking, "red, yellow, or green?" and diving directly into the hard conversations.That's because to us culture isn't bean bag chairs and free lunch, but instead an environment where conflict is kind and direct, expectations are clear, and trust is most important.Our version of culture has turned ConvertKit into a place that we all want to come to work.10. Share the profitsThere are two important factors for running ConvertKit as a financially efficient company:Transparent financials. Every dollar spent is visible to the entire company through our open books.Profit sharing. We share more than 50% of the profit in the company with the entire team.The result is that everyone is incentivized to spend money efficiently.We once asked the team: "would you rather go to San Diego or Costa Rica for the next team retreat?"Everyone said Costa Rica.So we did the research and found that Costa Rica would cost about 50% more because of higher housing costs and additional travel logistics. With the complete picture we asked the team again.This time San Diego won by a landslide.That attitude carries over to everyone when they use their company credit card. It's not just the company's money, it's their money. And they spend it accordingly.In the last few years we've distributed over $1,000,000 to the team in profit sharing. All while spending aggressively on growth. That's a number I'm really proud of!11. Always pay your debtsNo, I'm not talking about Game of Thrones, or even financial debt. There's another kind of debt more devastating to software companies: technical debt.The code that worked fine at $15,000 in revenue looks like a joke at $15 million. Not to say you should have spent the time to build it perfectly from the beginning—that's a fools game to try—but instead that every shortcut you take is building more debt. The longer you wait the more interest accrues.We've had to spend a significant of time and money refactoring all of that old code. It's part of scaling. Every software company has to do it, but it would be so frustrating if we didn't expect it and have a plan to pay it back systematically.12. As you grow, your company’s name builds equity. Don’t take that for granted.For years I've wanted to build ConvertKit into a global brand and I thought that meant changing the name to something more brandable. While being focused on this new change I completely missed the trust, care, and love our customers had for the name ConvertKit.You just quietly enjoy the status quo. People only talk about what they want to change. It would be weird to send an email to Patagonia saying, "I really love your name, please don't change it."So when we would receive emails every month from creators who thought ConvertKit was too salesy and they didn't want to be associated with the brand, that wasn't balanced by all the people who had quietly grown to love our name and the brand it represented.Ultimately we decided to stay as ConvertKit, which is a long story that I promise I'll write in full at some point.13. You don’t have to be an asshole to build a successful companyBeing an asshole is one way some entrepreneurs have been able to build big companies. Assholes are often loud about their own success, so we hear about them more than we should. But there are a bunch of good people building exciting companies too. Good people who care for their team, their family, and their customers.Ignore the entrepreneur media.Don’t be an asshole and don’t settle for working for one.14. Surprise launches aren't worth itA surprise launch or release is fun for you… until it isn’t.I love having my Steve Jobs moment by unveiling a new feature to the applause of a crowd. I've done it the last two years at our conference, Craft + Commerce. But behind each of those moments is weeks or months of pushing hard to make a deadline. Trimming the project scope, reprioritizing backlogs, and hoping that everything goes well in the live demo.But that's only part of it. What follows is releasing to customers, which is really painful if you missed the mark on any of your designs, planning, or timelines. That means a ton of tickets in the support queue, frustrated users, and losing confidence in the product.Now we've moved away from launching these big surprises. Instead we work with smaller groups of customers to understand how a new product or change will affect them. Then we use that information to build a smarter launch and rollout plan. A plan that usually involves methodically rolling out to a few features at once.We're still be able to make a splash, but we are able to do it with more confidence and a lot less stress.15. I felt most successful after the hardest decisionsWhile skiing a few weeks ago my friend Anthony asked the group, "do you feel successful?" It was a great question to reflect on while riding the chairlift. I'm always striving to learn more and grow the company, so it's foreign to pause and feel success. That feels like settling when I know I'm capable of more.Overall, I do feel successful, but I was surprised to realize the moments I felt most successful weren't after hitting a major revenue milestone or landing a famous customer.In hindsight, the times I felt most successful were when I leaned on my principles to make the right decision, even though it was incredibly hard.Letting a senior leader go. Rolling back a name change I'd worked on for two years. Restructuring the company.I wrestled with each one. Struggling to have the courage to make the decision I knew was right. But with principles to guide me I could make the decision with confidence.To me success knows that I've built the courage to make the right decision, especially when it is painful and expensive.​--Drop any questions in the comments! Particularly if they relate to software, bootstrapping, and more!

Five Reasons Why Fiction Is Critically Important In Human Culture (pt 2)

See yesterday’s post for Reasons 1 through 3.

REASON FOUR: SOCIAL/POWER STRUCTURES

In all of this, there may be some interesting things going on with our background psychology. Some monkey scientists (as in scientists who study monkeys, not, you know, unusually inquiring and intellectual monkeys) have suggested that when monkeys groom each other, it’s not actually primarily about hygiene and keeping parasites/pests down after all: the act of grooming, they suggest, plays an important social role because there seem   to be interesting ‘rules’ at play about who gets to groom whom and for how long—the more important you are, the more grooming you attract.

Basically, this act of grooming has been equated to a form of social monkey gossip—and about two-thirds of human communication is thought to be gossip, not necessarily in the negative, stigmatised sense, but in the sense of telling stories about what other people are doing.

Think about that for a second. Up to two-thirds of all human communication is us telling each other stories about what we and other people are doing. That’s a lot of stories being used every day as social glue, to keep us connected and informed about each other.

Of course, the other function of gossip, beyond conveying facts and linking us with those around us, is navigating power. Sometimes ‘gossip’, or stories about real people, can be used to challenge existing power structures or hierarchies, and sometimes it can be used to reinforce it. Likewise, stories in general have the same ability to either challenge or affirm existing power structures.

This is because, like it or not, storytelling seems to hold a position of power in human society.

To test this theory, researchers sought out populations in southeast Asia and assessed them both for the number of esteemed storytellers they contained, and also the degree of cooperation displayed by the population.

The camps that had a greater number of esteemed storytellers were indeed found to be more cooperative overall. Additionally, these storytellers weren’t lubricating the wheels of society without any benefit to themselves: storytellers were found throughout the various populations surveyed to    be preferred social partners, and to be more likely to be the recipient of shared food.

As a flow-on benefit from this, they were found to have on average an additional 0.5 surviving children compared to non-storytellers.

Now, this is only one study, and the researchers themselves noted that further longitudinal studies would be needed to really affirm these findings, but it does at least strongly suggest that storytellers hold a position of power in society. This doesn’t just apply to hunter-gatherer societies, of course: check out any A-list of celebrities in the contemporary western world and you’ll find it chock full of people whose job it is to tell stories, whether that be through writing them, acting them, or telling them through other means (‘a day in the life of’ reality-style TV, anyone? That’s just another kind of gossip story!).

We’ve known throughout history how powerful stories can be; that’s why the printing press was such a disruptive piece of technology. Not only did it make stories in general accessible to the public, it made the specialones, the religious ones, things that could no longer be controlled by a small group of powerful people—and by making these stories public, it took away some of the power from the people who, previously, had been the storytellers.

If you’re still feeling skeptical about the power of stories, you just have to look at the history of storytelling technology, and how it was received by society at the time of its invention. It’s not just the printing press that was considered highly disruptive to polite society: literally every development in the way stories are told to the public was initially decried as a horrible, immoral, and corrupting.

The invention of the novel was derided as a lewd and inappropriate use of one’s time. Then, with the improvement of printing presses and cheap paper, as well as access to cheaper distribution, came serialisation: the release of stories one chapter at a time in magazine, periodicals, or even as cheap-quality paperbacks in their own right. The outcry over this was even more vocal, with detractors commenting that this was ‘not the right way’ to indulge in reading, as it wasn’t a ‘mere healthy recreation’ like cricket, conversation or backgammon.

Serial reading, people: Not A Healthy Recreation.

Then of course came movies and television, still today considered ‘lower’ forms of storytelling by much of society (if only because we haven’t perfected the next wave of storytelling technology yet).

Huxley made his opinions on these new ‘talkies’ clear, with John the Savage in Brave New Worldrecoiling in disgust at the ‘feelies’ he is taken to see.

Bradbury was similarly scathing of the television, shown clearly in his novel Fahrenheit 451, where the installation of large, window-sized screens (which are essentially TVs showing soap operas) has stripped the population of its will to learn anything.

See also the various ‘banned books’ movements throughout history, which have sought to remove from public circulation reading material that they felt encouraged negative behaviour—in many cases, code for ‘challenged existing social narratives’.

Stories clearly have power, or we wouldn’t be afraid of them.

  REASON FIVE: EMPATHY 

Strangely, though, what it seems that stories mosthave the power to do is make us better people.

It’s true that stories, particularly group narratives, can have tremendously negative impacts (consider the stories told by racist hate groups, for example), but stories also have the power to shape society for the better.

Despite the continued existence of some detractors (who, I can only imagine, are either not big readers themselves, or else are reading mostly books with themes that encourage them to become worse versions of who they are), a wide range of studies have shown pretty convincingly that consuming stories—reading, in particular, sorry to disappoint—actually makes us more understanding of others, more empathetic, and generally better-quality human beings.

There’s a trick here, though: the kind of story you consume matters.

Generally speaking, when we say that consuming stories can make you a better person, we’re talking about narratives, actual stories with characters and a beginning, a middle and an end.

Narrative non-fiction certainly exists (memoirs, biographies, etc.), and we are probably fairly safe to assume that the generalisations made about fiction apply to narrative non-fiction as well… but generally the research deals more simply with just ‘fiction’ and ‘non-fiction’.

So, when I say that stories have the power to make us better people, the research suggests I’m talking about fiction specifically: made-up stories about events that didn’t actually happen in the real world exactly as they’re stated, stories told through the lens of a particular and identifiable character.

So what can consuming fiction do for our souls?

Generally speaking, consuming fiction is a great way to develop our ‘theory of mind’. A ‘theory of mind’ (sometimes capitalised as Theory of Mind) is the ability we have to recognise that other people think different thoughts to ourselves; our inner life is not the inner life of every person we meet.

Consuming fiction is known to help develop this ability because it gives us practice in observing how people other than us think in a close, intimate way not usually possible with regular people (look, I know I talk to myself a lot, but if you sat in a room listening to me, you still wouldn’t be getting the same kind of access to my inner thoughts as you would if I were a character in a story).

This brings us to the first important point: sorry, everyone, but reading really is superior to other ways of consuming stories in this particular aspect, if only because of our storytelling conventions. In visual media, it’s hard to be ‘in the head’ of the character we’re following; it’s cheesy and unrealistic to have a movie full of voiceovers giving us the character’s thoughts and inner monologue.

In books, on the other hand, this is all perfectly acceptable. We’re used to seeing the character’s thoughts written there on the page, as though we had a magical little connection directly with their brain.

So reading fictional stories can improve our theory of mind. What else can it do?

A 2014 study found that reading fiction generally (as opposed to reading non-fiction) lowered racial bias: after reading the stories provided to them, participants were less likely to assign random photos of racially-ambiguous faces to particular races based solely on their facial expressions (before reading, there’d been a distinct correlation between the face showing a negative emotion, and the participant labelling it as not-the-same-race-as-themselves). After reading the stories, people were more likely to see similarities between ‘people like themselves’ and ‘people like the ones in the story’.

They were also more likely to behave empathetically in real-life situations, such as when the researcher “accidentally” dropped a handful of pens nearby. (The participants who reported being ‘highly absorbed’ in the story were about two times more likely to help than participants who reported not being particularly engaged with the story /stories they’d read.)

So this is the next key point: we need to be ‘highly absorbed’ with what we’re reading. This is because of what I mentioned before about knowing something intellectually andknowing it emotionally: if you’re just skimming, you’re absorbing the story only on an intellectual level, rather than engaging emotionally with it.

(And look, I know it’s really, really hard to engage emotionally with something if you’re a slow reader. I’m genuinely sad to report that I don’t have a solution here, except to say that, as with any other skill, practice really can improve your reading speed.)

And finally, a 2013 study wanted to investigate for-realsies whether some types of books increase empathy better than others, and what they found is that books that are all about the interior narrative of the character, all about experiencing the world the way someone else does, promote empathy best. (Totally shocking, right?)

Books that don’t seek to promote the interior life of the characters have little to no impact on the reader’s natural levels of empathy.

(The way the researchers said it was that literary stories promote empathy better than popular fiction or non-fiction, but given their definition of ‘literary stories’ was ‘narratives that focus on in-depth portrayals of subjects’ inner feelings and thoughts, I think us genre fans can rest assured that there are plenty of ‘literary’ offerings in the genres we love as well—romance and a lot of young adult stories are often quite ‘interior’ as well.)

This all seems nicely logical, of course, so well done them for proving it with science.

  Stories tell us where we’ve come from; stories tell us who we are; and stories tell us who it’s possible to be. In short, stories give us our identity, forging a sense of belonging, and creating meaning in our lives. And now you have five excellent reasons ready to pull out next time someone challenges you that creating and reading fiction isn’t important 🙂

Excerpted from Laurens, A (2018). How To Theme. Inkprint Press, Australia. 

Five Reasons Why Fiction Is Critically Important In Human Culture (pt 2) was originally published on Amy Laurens