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#a bit less than 10 minutes to be exact. and I had no eraser so proportions are what they are

air--so--sweet · 6 months

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How to Speedrun Bury Your Gays aka That Time Legion Killed All Its Queer Characters In 20 Minutes

Well, 20 minutes 30 seconds to be exact...

First up at the episode's beginning, we have Daniel, who doesn't actually die, but I'd argue having your memory erased with no possibility of regaining it is comparable to death.

But hey he was a two dimensional character who existed solely to have effects on his husband, Clark's, storylines, firstly to humanise him when Daniel was introduced in Chapter 8 and then to add weight to Clark and David's exchange in this episode, Chapter 24. Oh and he also appeared in chapter 20 to remind us he existed since he hadn't been seen or spoken about once since he first appeared. So, not a great loss, right? I didn't even know his name, I had to google it for this post. Not a big deal when he was practically created to die...wait...

So at the 3 minutes 48 seconds mark our first gay has been buried. Record time and we've barely broken a sweat.

Next up we have Lenny and this one is trickier. She's a more developed character with her own agency and who has purpose beyond being a glorified prop. That purpose has been a bit harder to nail down this season but she had some growth in the last episode, choosing to feel the loss of her daughter rather than let David take the pain away or suppressing it with drugs (which feels like it would have been her MO pre David). It also seems she's reached her limit and is no longer willing to blindly follow David and allow him to- oh no, never mind, she's stabbed herself in the neck. I guess it kind of fits with her motivations, since she states to David that he can't have her, prior to stabbing herself. Would it have been more interesting and satisfying narratively if she chose to work with Division 3 to take David down instead? Or decided to try get revenge on Farouk for what he did to her on her own terms, which would also have the benefit of at someone finally trying to hold Farouk accountable for the monstrous things he did? Or even just have Lenny decide she doesn't have a horse in this race since she was drafted against her will and she's going to ride of into the sunset to do her own thing? (this is one hell of a mixed metaphor, I impress myself) Sure...but here she gets to have her last words be a call back to a memory she shared with David...except actually that was a false memory altered by Farouk to hide his presence in David's mind and he and Lenny never had a 'Why is it blue?' exchange in real life nor did she witness said false memory. Love the writer's cared enough about her arc to remember this accurately. And so dies maybe the best role Aubrey Plaza has ever had.

We've now hit the 10:42 mark so slowing down but still keeping a decent pace (sidenote: I remembered Lenny's girlfriend Salmon when writing this, a character who was maybe even less developed than Daniel, and wondered what happened her. We saw her giving birth in the previous episode and then she wasn't present for the rest of her daughter's abridged life courtesy of the time eaters which...actually implies she died in childbirth which is incredibly grim...I don't think it was an intentional implication but it's there nonetheless).

And last, but certainly not least we have Mr Clark DeBussy. Did I know his surname without googling it? Absolutely not. Have the writers ever figured out how to use his character post season one? Absolutely not. Though I did enjoy his one girl talk scene over tea with Syd.

To be fair, I do quite enjoy the scene leading up to his death. While a manufactured scenario, the home movies he's watching of his husband and son do add a melancholy to this scene and I love the visual when he turns to face David that leads to those images being projected onto his face. Teamed with his resigned yet angry delivery of 'I should have killed you the first time we met', David's sad smile as he agrees and Jeff Russo's always beautiful score it is just perfect. And then Clark is grabbed by one of David's cult members and thrown out the air lock and, as we hit 20 minutes and 30 seconds, our final gay is buried...well floating in the depths of space but same thing. There's excellent use of the family video projections again as they briefly overlay the scene of his expulsion from the airship and...it's just occurred to me since going to space in no way impeded David's attack, and Farouk could have gotten pissy with Division 3 for being cowards even if they hadn't started orbiting the earth....did we go to space just for this visual The style over substance of Legion is an ongoing issue but this time I might just accept it, it's a lovely shot.

And thus ends Legion's queer cast's run. There is a further 21 minutes and 40 seconds in this episode in which Syd loses her mind and Kerry looked like she was about to lose a fight and I thought 'Okay actually this is just an episode where characters are going to die, it's coincidence the first three were gay' but then Kerry actually survived and, after a brief second childhood in the astral plane with Melanie and Oliver, Syd gets her mind back...so actually the only people who stayed dead/memory wiped were queer.

I don't know how to to end this. Maybe with the advise to write decent queer representation and don't bury them or at least not all in one fell swoop only taking up half an episode? I wrote a joke about Clark's son not having a name but googled it to doublecheck and he does...it's Buster...Buster DeBussy...Clark was underdeveloped but I refuse to believe he would give his child a name thatvsounds like a side character in a video game. He was better than that

#legion fx #bury your gays #Daniel DeBussy #Clark DeBussy #Buster DeBussy #Lenny Busker #Whats with the bus theme actually?#I've just noticed...#Salmon just...disappeared...didn't even get an official death #For real though Lenny deserved better and I was so angry I had to turn the episode off and didn't finish it until the next day #Was gonna add images/gifs to this but I'm tired so maybe tomorrow....#also thats not how short and longterm memory work

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furiousgoldfish · 3 years

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I haven't been writing a lot lately because my recovery has been taking a wild turn and in lack of anyone to talk to or therapy, I'll be writing about it here! I'll put it under a cut. There are some descriptions of recovery going very wrong, and also explanations of things I was wrong about.

So since the pandemic started I've been deteriorating badly, first I've been processing trauma extensively, having intense breakdowns and gradually it turned into depression from lack of stimulation, I've been completely alone for months without speaking to, or seeing anyone. I thought it was the isolation getting to me, and decided I just need to endure that, indulge in whatever coping I could and wait for it to end. And then things got worse.

Even as normally I was seeing some very slow progress in recovery; now it was going backwards; I was having less and less ability to get anything done, I wasn't able to force myself to do my job for months, I kept getting stuck in bed for weeks, chronic pain got so bad I couldn't move on most days. And, it only kept going worse.

My breakdowns stared to be about the present instead of the past; I couldn't handle being in pain all the time. As in before I would recover from a breakdown within a day or two, now it took 4 days to a week, and the trauma episodes would last for hours, so intense I'd find myself hoping I would die during it.

And then, I started losing all mobility and this seriously freaked me out. Everything above I've already experienced before, without long term consequences, but now my body was losing function in a way that felt permanent; I could no longer move for more than few minutes, and without extensive pain. Sometimes I would try to get up and end up collapsing and screaming from how much it hurt, I would move my arm and my whole body would experience a shock of intense pain. I was scared, I no longer knew what was going on, I was suspecting something more than ptsd was wrong. I've forced myself into physical activity, trying to fight this, I tried stretching, exercising, running, punching, and every single one of these activities made it incredibly worse. I thought I had broken my body by laying down too much. I no longer felt anything but terror and dread, and kept spiralling into scenarios of my own death; it felt inevitable, I wasn't going to survive without ability to move, nobody would take care of me.

I tried out medicine that helps relaxing, it had minimal effect. Then, in desperation to check if this was all ptsd, I attempted self harm, to see if it erases the pain. It did. It lowered the pain significantly It was a big relief, even though I wasn't happy with resorting to that, at least I could move around for a while, and I was grateful for that. Times couldn't be more desperate, and the measure felt fitting. I was still in a very bad shape, and the pain was only somewhat lessened.

It was about that time someone sent me the Complex PTSD book; I had wanted it for a while and immediately went to read it. I felt some relief reading it, and I was struck with the realization that I have not felt any relief in more than a year. It also surprised me with some of the exact descriptions of my behaviour, that I didn't realize was a symptom. I thought it was necessary and smart of me to live in hiding, to avoid interaction and never connect to anyone; it kept me safe. It turns out it's a regular freeze response to trauma; I got very called out for it. It also explains that a freeze response is what people use when anything else doesn't work, and it's true! I had been fighting, fawning and perfecting myself desperately prior to realizing that absolutely nothing helps, and froze to survive. It also described that freeze types are capable of surviving prolonged isolation because their brains produce hormones that relax the body as if they're going thru a moment before death; also true for me, I've been aware my brain does that, only I get that way too often, and it only helps me marginally because I'm too used to it.

Another thing I was very wrong about was my concept of my inner critic; I thought I had already won that battle, because I did not allow any voice in my head to criticize me (my alters can drag me affectionately), and I generally didn't experience a lot of shame or guilt for what I was going thru. The book describes inner catastrophizer, which is an extention of the critic, and it causes you to spral into extremely negative scenarios of your own demise. Now that.. was happening to me every single day, I saw myself dead around every corner. But I always thought my fears about that were perfectly reasonable. I had been tortured into suicidal state as a kid and nobody cared, I barely escaped with my life from there, I was living illegally, in hiding, without a normal job or regular income, without close friends or any family, with ptsd i couldn't get diagnosed for, without ability to work due to ptsd, in a capitalistic society where being able to work is only thing between you and dying. I had, by that point, gained many skills of survival, but it still felt very reasonable to fear that I would die if I don't get better soon.

The book described people who had families, jobs, social circles, friends and community, who spiraled into deep fear of becoming homeless and dying on the street; somehow their spiraling was exactly the same as mine, and it made me realize that it was, in fact, a symptom, and not reflection of reality. Because I was spiraling even when laying in my bed or eating or sleeping, knowing I could still afford rent for months because I arranged my life to allow myself to lay down a lot. I kept fearing my parents were coming to end my life, even when I arranged my entire existence specifically to prevent this from happening. And even if I was sick and without a real job, I had in fact, survived for 5 years after running away, I wasn't getting worse at it. My spiraling into death scenarios was a symptom of being trapped within a flashback.

The book guided me to try to challenge these fears, I immediately went for it, had a breakdown, screamed "I can't" for like an hour, had additional few breakdowns afterwards, and miraculously, recovered from them in only few hours. And then, I woke up from my flashback.

I won't describe what the flashback was, because it's too gruesome and horiffic, but it was in fact, bad enough to warrant every single bit of that pain I was experiencing, and a very convoluted, complex trauma. I was waiting to be killed in that flashback. Whats concerning is, I've been trapped in that same flashbacks for more than a year. After I broke my way out of it, it felt like I woke up to being alive for the first time in years. I got out being frozen in bed.

For 5 amazing days, I was able to do whatever I wanted. Chronic pain? I didn't know her. It was absoluely exhilirating to get to move again, I was not getting tired either, I was out there making up for months of doing nothing and I was not collapsing at any point. I felt actual joy again, and hope, and being free from pain was so extremely good, that alone made me ecstatic. I was able to create, to be organized, to take care of myself, to follow a checklist, to focus, I was a Normal Person for those 5 days.

And then, predictably, I was getting back stuck in that flashbacks and my levels of terror and dread spiked again. I went to re-read the book, and it took me a few days to really figure it out again, I don't know exactly how the book works on me, I feel like it says just the right keywords to trigger me into realizations and causes breakdowns that set me free. I found myself able to stop some spiraling, but sometimes I can't, that flashback holds immense power over me and is actually mixed with 10 other near-death scenarios that are too extreme for me to process, so this will keep happening. I did break free again, and got to experience additional few days of movement and happiness; I also started working extensively with my child alter, who was until recently extremely suicidal and dangerous to work with.

I am still kinda lost in all of this, and unsure whats going on, but I do believe I wont get trapped in a flashback again for a whole year. I became so anxious and helpless due to isolation, I forgot how to fight trauma, I forgot I actually had to do it. I used to do it constantly in the beginning, but it had made me suicidal back then to face all this, so I tried to just let it heal naturally, which I believed would eventually happen; but it didn't, I got trapped and suffered without knowing how to get out. I also believed my own spiraling was a reflection of reality and not trauma, and that fueled it a lot.

It explains very eloqently in the book how inner catastrophizing comes from being massively neglected; children who are not looked after start to realize just how unprotected they are, so their own sense of danger becomes hypersensitive and starts to lock on possible dangers everywhere. This is then further aided by media that points out every possible bad thing that could happen to a person, and the child who isn't guided by adult who could actually make a reasonable distinction between real and unlikely danger, will clock it all as absolute possibilities and be on alert. It's also fueled by the line of disasters and dangers that happen to them in the context of their own home, and for me, the strongest factor was my parents constantly convincing me that I would die without them. Even though I proved this wrong, and understand they did it precisely because they knew there was a lot of survival ability in me and that's why they worked so hard to destroy it, the fact that it was brainwashed into me under circumstances of torture still makes it impossible for me to fight it.

Maybe one day I will be able to.

I'm writing this because writing things down helps to make sense of it all, and I need to find my way thru this. I also hope someone else will see themselves in what I'm describing and it will help them find a way forward. Complex ptsd is the only book I found that speaks from the point of view of a person who survived cptsd, healed from it, and had so much experience with other traumatized people they're able to draw parallels and create patterns and statistics out if it, it was that more than anything that convinced me of their words, and gave me hope. The book also warns many times of how essential it is to reduce inner critic and catastrophizer before getting other recovery work done, other therapy might only do further harm before this work is done. It was true for me.

If you wanna read this book, here's a post with the links!

#cptsd #complex ptsd #ptsd recovery #tw self harm #story of recovery #trauma #abuse recovery #trauma symptoms #chronic pain #chronic exhaustion #freeze response

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 14 | S.R.)

Summary: Separated and terrified, Spencer and Reader rely on their unique skills to survive. The team, minus Penelope and Derek, don’t know who the strange girl in the bank is, but they find out very interesting things about her history.

A/N: I don’t know how banks work. Idk how heists work. I know nothing. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader   Category: ANGST. Just. All of it. All of the angst. Every bit.   Content Warning: Gun violence, discussions of death and dying Word Count: 10k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

“Hello, my name is (y/n)(y/l/n) and I’m calling from the Bank of America on K St. Northwest to report shots fired. The shots sounded like burst-fire from multiple semiautomatics.”

When adrenaline kicks in, there are a lot of things that don’t feel real. Time seems to warp into some ominous presence weighing down on you, but your body has never felt lighter.

“Ma’am, where are you?” Her voice sounded so far away. My own just felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else entirely.

“I’m inside the bathroom. Listen, I might not have a lot of time. There’s a federal agent inside the bank. His name is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. Call...”

My mouth blanked on the names of the two men Spencer talked about the most. I’d met them both, why couldn’t I remember?

Several more shots rang through the building as an answer. It was enough to shake loose the names, which flowed from me before I could even comprehend where they came from.

“Call SSA Aaron Hotchner and… Derek Morgan.”

“Can you remain on the line?” She sounded insistent — which is against their protocol by the way. My eyes were glued to the bathroom door’s hinges.

“Only until the door opens.”

The sentence conveyed my thoughts without actually forming the words. Once that door opens, I’m probably going to die. It wasn’t a completely irrational fear.

“Okay. I need you to remain calm. Did you see any of the gunmen?”

Jesus, it was like everything I’d just told her had gone completely over her head. “No, I’m in the bathroom.”

“Does the agent have his service weapon?”

“No.”

If she didn’t ask me a question I could say yes to soon, I was going to lose my fucking mind.

I tried not to think about Spencer outside, but I couldn’t help it. All of my thoughts were on him, even before the commotion.

Was he even still alive?

“Help is on the way, Ms. (Y/l/n).”

“Please hurry.”

My entire body shook from the hormones, my instincts telling me to do anything besides sit crouched on a toilet in a bathroom stall. I don’t even know why I bothered hiding. They would definitely kick them in, or just shoot straight through the doors.

“We’ve contacted Agent Hotchner and he’s also on his way.”

Finally, some good fucking news. I released my breath as quietly as I could, closing my eyes for just a moment to compensate for the fact I hadn’t blinked in several minutes.

“Thank you,” I whispered, clutching the phone like it could actually do something for me past this point. But it couldn’t. No amount of breathing exercises would help me through this one.

Suddenly, there was movement outside the door. A crowd of people were shuffling past the door, and I heard the distinct sound of a toddler wailing.

“I have to go.”

“Wait, don’t hang up—“

I couldn’t wait, though. With trembling hands, I erased the evidence that I’d ever called them in the first place. And then I resumed my position as a sitting duck; quietly and as ready as I ever could be.

I listened for his voice, but I never heard it.

—————————————————

Three seconds.

Did you know that a semiautomatic weapon can fire up to three rounds per second, depending on how fast the user can pull the trigger?

After the first shot is fired, no one moves. Puzzled and alert, people are paralyzed. Your first reaction is to look for the source of the sound. It’d been a second before I turned to see the three armed people and two dead security guards behind me.

It takes the average person one and a half seconds to cognitively process that they're in a potentially life-threatening situation. It takes another .7 seconds for a physical response to kick in.

Three seconds.That was long enough for a maximum of nine shots per person to be fired- twenty-seven shots in total; it was long enough for the air to be filled with the sudden outburst of helpless screams the patrons of the bank, and it was long enough for me to realize that I didn’t have my gun and that my girlfriend wasn’t by my side.

“Everybody get down on the ground!”

Amid the chaos, I felt that all too familiar twisting sensation in my gut that begged time to reverse just enough for this to be a dream. Enough time to reverse the decisions that led us here.

But time was a cruel mistress, and she did not plan to bend to the whims of mankind, no matter how desperate.

Another deafening burst of sound rang through the air, shots fired into the ceiling now as myself and the others fell to the ground.

My gaze was fixed on the bathroom entrance. I couldn’t breathe. Please, I begged, stay hidden.

“Listen up! If everyone does what we say, you can all go back to your boring fucking lives.”

Injuries occur in less than two percent of bank robberies. Deaths occur in less than one. Saturdays are the second to least likely day for a robbery to take place. In the past 5 years, less than 10 people have been killed in bank robberies, and most of them were the perpetrators. Statistics usually calmed me down and helped me focus.

But these people didn’t care about statistics. They were defying the odds I had just recited to myself. They had already killed two people. Our luck was already stacked against us.

“Take everything out of your pockets and put it in front of you.”

As soon as the order was given, I was running through an inventory of everything in my pockets. It didn’t take me long to realize that with a cursory inspection of the items, they would figure out who I was.

But what were the odds that they would actually scrutinize them? I figured they were fairly low; you don’t rob a bank to get cheap jewelry and petty cash, even in a bank. What were the odds they would notice if I left something in my pocket — especially if my wallet was in front of me. If it wasn’t large enough to be a weapon, and I put out my objects of value, why wouldn’t I put out the rest of the contents?

So I decided to take the risk, removing my wallet while retaining my separate identification.

Luckily, the attention seemed pretty far removed from me. If I wasn’t too busy being extremely grateful, I might have been offended that they didn’t consider me a threat in the building.

“Alright ladies, all of you get up and follow my lovely friend here. You’re going on a little trip. Fellas, you stay right where you are.”

The sound of my heart pounding drowned out the instructions that weren’t intended for me. It was fine, I hadn’t planned on moving, anyway. As long as I could see the door to the bathroom, I was perfectly fine right where I was.

But I still felt for the terrified women that were shakily rising to their feet. To my right, I saw a woman struggling to hold a small infant. My heart was fracturing at the struggle, wishing I could help her. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk doing anything that might draw attention to myself.

I felt like a traitor. I felt useless. I was quite literally trained to handle this exact situation, but now that I was here, I couldn’t move. I wasn’t thinking about strategy or how to maximize efficiency; all I was thinking about was her.

“Jake!” A woman’s voice screamed from the other side of the room. When I turned, I heard the sound of a rifle cracking against bone before the man hit the ground.

“Jake, huh?” The man above him laughed, using the business end of the rifle to turn the disoriented man on his side. “Well, Jake, how would you feel about your girlfriend watching you die?”

“Please don’t hurt him!” The woman sobbed, scrambling up off the floor that she’d resisted leaving. I wondered if (y/n) would have refused to leave me, too.

The man prodded the woman with the gun, urging her to follow the rest while simultaneously providing easy enough instructions. The man apparently named Jake made a few noises of desperate protest as he watched her leave.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“I’m sorry,” Jake pleaded, “I’m sorry, please don’t hurt her. I’ll be quiet.”

Smart man. I understood his hesitancy, though. His girlfriend kept her neck craned back until she was no longer in sight, gazing back at him for as long as she physically could. I closed my eyes just for a moment, to try and combat their current strain.

Unfortunately, just like it always seems to happen, that’s when they spoke the words I had been dreading.

“Hey, you check the bathrooms yet?”

“Nah, I got it.”

I closed my eyes tighter now, scared that if I opened them, I’d give myself away. There was no possible way that I could hide the terror I currently felt. To be fair, I think it was only natural to be scared — but not like this.

There was a loud crashing noise of doors slamming, and the voice I knew better than I knew my own reached my ears, making sounds I’d never heard from her before.

Don’t fight them. I pleaded again, Please, don’t fight them.

“Let go of me!” She screamed as the door to the bathroom swung open. Unable to keep my eyes shut any longer, I opened them to see her clawing at the ground as she was dragged out by her ankle. “I can walk by myself! Let go of me!”

I wasn’t sure if she didn’t see me in the commotion, or if she’d just made the decision to act like she hadn’t. Either way, I was grateful. Still, my worries were justified as one of the three unsubs walked over to me.

“Why are you looking at her like that? You know her?”

Craning my head up, I shook my head no. It must not have been very convincing; the rage in my heart at them for thrusting her into this situation evident in my eyes.

“You wanna play hero, kid?”

“Sorry. No.” I muttered, taking a deep breath in a failed attempt to regulate my heart rate or my voice, “She’s… very loud. I get headaches.”

“Yeah well, deal with it.”

That might have been the end of it, if I’d played my hand better. But it turned out that the risk I had previously elected to take was woefully miscalculated. I didn’t meet their eyes anymore, knowing that doing so might threaten whatever frail illusion of masculinity they possessed.

It still didn’t stop them from holding the gun to my head.

“Empty your pockets.”

“Okay. I can do that, but I have to put my hand in my pocket.” I explained, moving my shaking hand to my back pocket, “It’s not a weapon.”

For once, I was grateful that I was the resident wimp when it came to stressful situations. Sure, I could handle myself, but I definitely didn’t look like I wanted to be there. Had I been any more of a visible threat, I was certain they would have figured out my identity long before this point. They might even have killed me right away.

“Hurry up.”

Swallowing hard, I pulled the identification from my pocket, flipping it open and holding it up for him to see, my gaze aimed fully forward. He snatched the badge away, a cheeky chuckle and a smile in his words.

“FBI, huh? Well, aren’t we lucky. You just became our most valuable player.”

—————————————————

Morgan arrived on the scene relatively unhurried and mostly just curious. The information Garcia had sent over text message was vague, likely due to the crime being a local one. Nothing about this seemed to be the BAU’s usual fare.

It took him almost no time to find Hotch, dressed in casual clothing, surrounded by the massive response team swarming around the bank. But Hotch hadn’t spotted him yet, fully involved with SWAT.

“What’s going on?”

Finally turning to notice his arrival, Hotch gave his normal matter-of-fact report in his simple, succinct manner. “Three people stormed the bank approximately 20 minutes ago and killed two security guards. There are 19 confirmed hostages inside the bank.”

But there was one significant detail that seemed to be missing, and Morgan started to scan the crowd for familiar faces as he spoke. “Hotch, this doesn’t sound like anything we’ve been working on. Why are we responding?”

“The caller alerted us that Reid is inside.”

The words were so unexpected that Morgan actually did a double take, his eyebrows furrowed and bowed as he replayed them in his head. “Wait, how did the caller know that?”

“I don’t know,” Hotch said with an equally perplexed look, gripping tighter to the communicator in his hand, “but she referred to us and him by name.”

‘She?’ Morgan thought, his heart stopping for a second as he excused himself from Hotch’s side, pulling out his phone and frantically calling Garcia, who had already made her way to the BAU.

“Hey there handsome.” It was a mild nickname for the famed Penelope Garcia, but Derek knew that she was probably already in a tough spot. After all, it’s not every day that one of their own is in these situations. At least, not unexpectedly.

“Hey Garcia, do you have eyes on the people in the bank?”

He could hear the feverish click-clacking of keys on the other end, followed closely by her equally frantic voice. “I’m working on it but so far I can only see the main lobby. They separated the women and the men for some reason. Why would they do that?”

“Just focus,” he calmly reminded, “Can you see the women?”

“No. All the women and children were moved to the back.”

Rubbing his face to try and relieve the tension that had quickly made its home over his jaw, Morgan glanced over at the entrance to the bank. It was strange to think that so much had happened so quickly.

Garcia had mentioned twice now that the women had been moved to the back, and he was trying to figure out why they would do that beyond the usual control mechanisms.

“I’m trying to see in the back now, but apparently banks take their video surveillance far more seriously than everything else. Last I checked, a camera never stole money or fired a gun!”

“Focus, babygirl.” It was an instruction for himself just as much as it was for her.

“Sorry, I’m nervous, and you know how I get when I’m nervous!” She squeaked, “I don’t like seeing you guys on my screens. I’d much rather see you in person, safe and sound and preferably smiling.”

Trying not to lose his patience, Morgan just sighed. It wasn’t her fault. It was no one’s fault, except that of the bastards who just had to go and ruin a perfectly nice weekend.

“Can you at least tell me who the caller was? Did they call from inside?”

“They were inside and, one second, let me check, it was... oh.” Her voice cut off abruptly, dropping into a high pitched, desperate whisper. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“It’s... the girl from the movies,” Garcia’s voice got faster and more panicked, “Derek, it’s (y/n). It’s Reid’s girlfriend. Reid’s girlfriend is inside the bank.”

Now that his suspicions had been confirmed, he wasn’t really sure what to do with the information. Because now that he knew Reid wasn’t alone, he felt the need to tell Hotch.

A profiler with a loved one involved was in dangerous territory. It wasn’t just Reid, but Morgan had personally seen just how unhinged Reid could get when it came to (y/n).

“Can you see her?” He asked, his voice lower than it was before.

“Oh, god, yes! I can!” It was not the kind of excited exclamation Morgan had hoped to hear, but at least he had confirmation she was alive. “She was in the bathroom but… They’re dragging her away…”

Morgan had tried not to pry too far in his best friend’s life before, and he took a moment to consider whether his next request was honestly necessary, or if he was just trying to find a reason to snoop.

But he wasn’t. There was something off about that girl. It wasn’t that she was bad or wrong, but she was far too comfortable in situations that didn’t call for it. The way she carried herself told him that she had held her own hand too often.

“Garcia, I know I’ve already done this to you once but... I need you to tell me everything you can find on her.”

—————————————————

My entire body ached; the sensation of an unfamiliar hand clenched tightly around my ankle burned long after I was released. It was definitely sprained, at the very least. I didn’t dare try to touch it, though. It wouldn’t be worth the trouble, and the bristling discomfort kept me where I was.

Which, for now was on my knees in the backroom of a bank lobby. Beside us was a large, heavily reinforced steel door with way too many different contraptions. I decided then that this whole arms race between burglars and corporate America had gotten a little fucking ridiculous.

But however annoyed I was by that, I was far more irritated by the hushed bickering between the man and woman holding rifles on the other side of the room. I could only hear every couple of words, but I got the gist of what they were arguing about.

Apparently, they’d never heard of an alarm system that’s connected to locks, which seemed extremely stupid for people who had gotten this far. In hindsight, that should have been my first clue that something was off about this entire situation.

Still, I couldn’t deal with them making the same fucking arguments over and over, so eventually I blurted out what I’m certain any millennial in the room would know. “The keycard won’t work if they’ve sounded the alarm.”

The statement earned me a gun to my face, and after a brief second of confusion, I flinched away from the cold metal of the barrel.

“What was that, sweetheart?” She was clearly looking to gauge my reaction rather than actually ask me to repeat the information. That was fine. I wasn’t exactly a talented actress, and I didn’t see the point in pretending to be meek.

If she was going to kill me, she was going to do it. Although I was certain Spencer would disagree, I chose to believe that our fate is dictated long before it happens. I was not a profiler; if I survived, it would be because I had been taught to survive through brute force and spite rather than calm negotiation.

“The keycard system is linked to the alarms,” I said, slower now, “Someone hit the alarm, so the cards aren’t going to work. You’ll need to use the old school keys.”

Her eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a much lower register as she crouched down to my height. “How would you know? You work here?”

“No, my dad worked security.” It wasn’t a lie as much as it was an understatement, but she didn’t need to know that. I guess that’s one of those good things growing up with the dad I did; I got very comfortable speaking in vague generalities. Spencer hated it.

“Well, your daddy isn’t here to help you now.”

Wasn’t that the damn truth. But that didn’t mean I was alone, I reminded myself. Despite being dragged and my vision turned literally upside down, I had caught a glimpse of him in the lobby. He was alive. That thought alone was keeping me sane right now.

“The different keys you need for an override are probably kept on separate people so one person can’t do it alone. Probably the different managers.” I muttered, nodding to the side where one of the employees flinched at my words. Anything to get away from the fucking gun in my face.

“Is she right?” The woman sneered to the manager, turning her full attention to someone else. I felt a little guilty, since the poor manager seemed a lot less put together than I was. But hey, they needed her, too.

“Yes, I already gave you my keys,” she squeaked, holding her trembling hands up, “Th-There’s another set behind the desk I think.”

“Would you look at that...” It was the first time the man in the room addressed me since he had pulled me out of the stall, and I had to admit I wasn’t exactly a fan of his. But at the same time, I knew that he was going to be remarkably more receptive to me than the woman. She seemed to be the one who was actually in charge.

“Little miss problem was actually helpful,” he cheered, raising his weapon to point to the ceiling as he approached me. I chewed nervously on my cheeks, trying to meet his eyes but finding them uncomfortably bare.

“You should turn off the camera too, I’m just saying.” This time I didn’t nod, using one cautious finger to point to the small device that was currently staring right at me. I understood that it was probably helpful to Spencer’s team to be able to see, but I wasn’t really keen on my death being videotaped... as well as anything else I might end up doing.

‘Never leave a trace.’ That’s what I’d always heard.

‘Keep’em guessing. Even if you think it’s gonna kill you, because you don’t want to live with that over your head.’

“Fine. Do that and go get the keys.” He sounded intrigued, and I felt his searing gaze against my face.

“I think you should do it.”

The tension from before, when the two were arguing, had quickly resurfaced. She clearly didn’t trust him to be alone in the room, which solidified my belief that she was calling the shots, and he was just being dragged along for the ride.

In another life, I might have respected her ability to order stupid men around.

“Why the fuck is that?” He snapped, earning a bored roll of her eyes. The next thing out of her mouth was expected, but unfortunately the last thing I wanted to hear.

“I want to talk to her alone.”

Great. And naturally, her idea of ‘talking’ to me included weaponry. Using the end of the gun to tilt my head up to her, she gave a suspicious smile.

“Why are you helping us?”

“I want to go home.” It was my immediate and instinctual answer. It was the truth. I was helping them because I wanted to get the fuck out of here.

But you know, people expect everyone to have a squeaky-clean moral compass, so I decided to give a few more reasons.

“And I don’t give a shit about a massive corporate bank. I was just here to go to the bathroom– I don’t even have an account here.”

Maybe that was too many reasons, because just as her hesitance waned, it was back in full force. Shoving the barrel against my throat, she sneered, “I don’t believe you. You’re too comfortable with a gun in your face. You a cop, too?”

Cop?

I tilted my head to the side, baring more of my throat to her as I drawled, “Who’s a cop?”

For once, I was glad that Spencer had made such a point of reassuring me that he was not ‘a cop,’ because otherwise I’m certain the terror would have been obvious in my eyes. But for now, I could trust the numb apathy that was washing over me.

Please don’t be talking about Spencer. Please don’t know that. Good things never happened to law enforcement in situations like this. Hell, the two security guards had been dead in seconds.

“I think you know.” She was smiling, and I realized that this fucking psychopath was sharper than she wanted me to think.

“I don’t.” The words were said through clenched teeth, and I prayed that she would see them as insistent anger over the fear that lie beneath them, “And why would you kill me if I was helping you?”

She smiled, drawing the weapon up and down my throat until it landed lower at my chest. The movements were slow and light, a playful glint in her eyes when they met mine again.

“For fun.”

I didn’t move a muscle, my body remaining tense under her ministrations as I forced myself to hold my gaze steady. If she wanted fear, she wouldn’t get it from me.

“Then do it.”

The look she gave me told me she had seriously considered it, probably a little annoyed with my presence. But there was something else there, too, that same soft recognition that in another reality we might have been friends. I’m sure she saw herself in me a little bit; or at least somebody useful.

This confirmed my suspicion that I’d never really be able to read a psychopath. I didn’t understand how Spencer could do it every day. It’d only been a few minutes alone with her and I could feel myself losing the happy memories of the day.

Luckily, the man returned at the same time I saw a plan developing in her mind.

“Hey, come help me,” he called to her. Her response was surprisingly swift, the metal that was tracing over my collar bones disappearing without another word. He was holding a small bag of money, which seemed to seriously irritate the woman.

“Did you get that money from behind the counter?” I asked it before she had a chance. I wanted him to trust me. Or at least look at me more. It wasn’t that I wanted his attention as much as I knew I could distract him fairly easily.

He looked over at me, a dumbfounded look on his face. Men are so fucking stupid, I thought. The pissed off expression on his partner’s face told me that she agreed.

“It’s going to explode if you mess with it or it leaves the area. Probably with tear gas. If you’re escaping in a car, you’re not gonna want it.”

“Yeah, we know about dye packs, bitch.” She snapped, grabbing the bag of money and tossing it to the side of the door they intended to use.

I stared at the locks they hadn’t even bothered trying to touch. The same locks they apparently didn’t look up or know anything about when they came. Suddenly it hit me why this all felt so very off.

It was strange enough that no one was wearing a mask, and as far as I’d heard, no one was really trying to get out of this situation. I was certain that by this point there was a large crowd of armored men outside.

“Just trying to help,” I muttered as I started to scan the room, looking for telltale signs of tampering. The anxious whispering of the man distracted me just long enough to get more information.

“Won’t that set off some shit? Chain reaction shit?”

“Shut the fuck up,” the woman responded with a swift elbow to his gut as she started to walk away, “you are an absolute moron.”

As soon as she was out of earshot, I heard the faint curses that fell from his lips. As he picked up the bag just to toss it away again, I noticed the presence of odd packages in the corner of the room. He really did not want exploding dye packs near those boxes, which seemed remarkably out of place.

“Why does she think she’s in charge?” I asked, finally ripping my eyes away from the objects that now seemed glaringly obvious. “You two guys outnumber her.”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you.”

Relaxing my body as much as I could, I shifted back and forth on my knees, rubbing the tired muscles of my thighs. “I may have been told that once or twice.”

He actually chuckled; his eyes drawn to my legs like the absolute moron he so obviously was. She definitely had gotten that one right. The other women in the room were watching me, but I tried not to pay them any mind.

I didn’t know when or why they decided to let me do whatever I wanted, but I appreciated their apparent comfort in letting me try to kill myself. He made his way over to the boxes, each a specific size and shape. He carried them so carefully.

“I figure there’s no point in being scared if I’m going to die anyway.” I finally said. Shocked gasps and whispers filled the room, but I didn’t divert my attention to them– No matter how much I wanted to tell them to shut the fuck up.

They would distract me from the way his mouth curled into a smile when he closed the gap between us, his hand sliding down my head and over my shoulder to follow the braid Spencer had meticulously woven an hour before.

“How about you just shut up and sit pretty for me, sweetheart.” I tried not to let the disgust show as his hand slid behind my neck, holding my head so that I had to look up at him. “You seem like you’d be real good at that.”

Ha! If only Spencer could hear him say that. But I could play the good girl for just long enough.

“Do you need help?” I asked with a tiny shrug, “I might be little but I’m pretty strong.” Strong enough to break your fucking hand if you don’t get it off of me.

“Nah.” He ordered, his hand on my neck getting tighter. “But I don’t doubt that you could be useful. You look real good on your knees.”

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might be visible through my ribs. I just needed an excuse to move. If he could give me an excuse to move, I could do so many things.

“Please let me help,” I begged, raising my hand to his forearm against my shoulder. His eyes began to shift, moving just enough to tell me that he wanted to look to the hallway. He could hear her footsteps, too. She was coming back, and I only had a few seconds left.

Once both of my hands were on his arm, I got the feeling he knew something even worse was coming for him.

“I’d love a chance to get to show you how helpful I really am.”

—————————————————

Hotch had spent the past five minutes on the phone with the male unsub in the lobby, and the conversation was going absolutely nowhere. For whatever reason, they just seemed to deflect any opportunity provided to them.

They didn’t seem to give a shit about anything beyond pushing the buttons of each person they interacted with. Which, they did quite successfully.

“Didn’t realize one pig would bring the whole flock of you here,” he laughed, clearly motioning to Spencer on the video, “How bad do you want him back?”

“What do you want?” He responded without hesitation or a surprise. It was such an expected question to ask that he’d barely even thought about his words before they came out.

“Easy. A chopper, and for you to fuck off.”

That was the equally stereotypical response, meaning it was entirely unhelpful to them. From what they could deduce, they were equally confused as to why this heist seemed to follow all the rules, but match none of the motivations. It was like it was a show, a game, rather than an actual attempt to maximize profits.

“We can do the helicopter, but we can’t give you a pilot.”

“That’s fine,” he responded with a shrug, “Don’t need one.”

It was the first piece of useful information he’d gotten so far on the call. Because if they didn’t need a pilot, it meant one of two things: either one of them possessed the skill themselves, or they weren’t ever intending to use the helicopter.

Briefly pulling the phone away, Hotch turned to Morgan. “Tell Garcia to check our list with people with pilot’s licenses or any other connection that might provide them the skills to fly a helicopter.”

He returned to the call, continuing the usual script for these situations, trying not to act like he’d learned anything new.

“Can you release the women and children?”

“Nah,” the guy said with a chuckle, “I’ll wait.”

Hotch listened to the sound of the receiver for a moment, staring at the entrance to the bank like it would provide him the answers he still needed. He had his suspicions of what might be happening, but with no eyes in the back anymore and the trigger-happy group that had formed around him, he wouldn’t have the resources to convince them not to go in guns blazing.

“We’re ready to move in.” Which is exactly what they had requested.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He stated before finally moving to look at the man next to him, “Something isn’t right here.”

“Yeah, a lot isn’t right here. There’s 19 innocent people in there.”

It didn’t really matter how many times he went through this situation; the results always seemed to be the same. No one listened, even when it wasn’t one of their men inside.

“Storming the building isn’t going to help them. There are three armed perpetrators inside, and they’re each in a different area. It would be impossible for us to take out all three at once. Especially now that we can’t see in the back. There could be explosives in there for all we know.”

The man was unpersuaded.

“If we can’t save them all, minimizing casualties is the name of the game.”

“Wait a few more minutes. I’m waiting to hear back from our analyst. If they have the capability of flying a plane, its highly likely they also have the knowledge and skills to create weapons that we aren’t currently prepared to handle.”

Although still unconvinced, the man grudgingly gave in to the request. Hotch closed his eyes, trying to be grateful for the extremely small victory; they’d gained a few more minutes. But the relief was short lived, with Morgan putting his phone aside for a second to mutter the same thing Hotch was thinking.

“Hotch, these people are way too confident. It’s like they know there’s a way out.”

As soon as he said the words, the two just looked at each other.

“Garcia, can you also check for any other way out of the bank?” He asked, walking back over to the table laid out under the nearby tent. This would have been a great time for Reid to be here, he thought as he stared at the ridiculously complicated schematics.

He understood they didn’t want people to be able to figure them out (so they couldn’t rob the bank), but this was just ridiculous. It looked ancient.

“Sure thing, but… Morgan, I think there’s something else you should see.” The nerves dancing in her voice told him that they were about to switch subjects. “You know how the guy disabled the camera feed in the back room. I was reviewing the footage we do have and it looks like… (y/n) told him to.”

“Why would she do that?” He asked, furrowing his brow as he glanced over to the ornate bank doors. Part of him wanted to joke that things would’ve been a lot simpler if he didn’t have to worry about Reid’s weird girlfriend, but it didn’t feel as funny when they were both in danger.

Maybe later, he thought hopefully, when they were all together again.

“I… don’t know why. But I did what you asked, and I went through her record and found a ton of sealed files on her and also her dad…”

Morgan’s attention was definitely piqued at that point, but he wasn’t entirely sure what to say. In the stunned silence, Penelope spoke again.

“Should… Should I unseal them?”

It was the same question he was debating in his head, and he honestly didn’t know. Although a long shot, he hoped that she could provide at least the bare minimum of context before they made that kind of decision.

“What kind of files are we talking about?”

“I can’t be sure until I unseal them b-but, I mean, they’re sealed for a reason and I’m talking scary sealed. Like, it might take me a minute sealed. Giving me the heebie-jeebies sealed.” She grew more frantic as she continued. Morgan knew they were running out of time.

“I get it.”

“Is Reid okay?” She switched gears, recognizing that Morgan’s hesitance meant it was probably a bad idea. She wasn’t going to push it unless he did. They didn’t even know if she could help even if they unsealed the files. Especially without a visual.

“They know he’s with us,” Morgan sadly admitted, “I don’t know what’s going on. Did you find another way out of the bank?”

“Right.” The conversation was going to give everyone involved whiplash at this point. “Yes! There is an access way through tunnels underneath the bank but it would take a massive distraction for all three of them to be able to get out of there without us meeting them on the other side. I’m talking earth shatterin–.”

She didn’t finish the sentence, her tongue halting the second her mind caught up with her voice. Morgan was equally concerned, recognizing the kind of distraction that this might require and the perfect way to escape with maximum damage.

But that wasn’t what got his attention. There was no fiery explosion or shouted epiphany, because at that same time there were the muffled sounds of gunshots coming from inside.

“Oh my god, what was that?!” Garcia yelled, accompanied by frantic clicking as she filtered through each individual camera to try and locate the source of the noise.

“Garcia, do you have eyes on the main room?”

“Yes! But it wasn’t in the main room, Derek, it was in the back!”

It was a difficult and necessary job, to consider what those sounds might mean for the young girl they’d met only a few weeks earlier. Morgan’s thoughts went even further, not only worried about her safety, but his best friend’s sanity. Lord knows Reid didn’t need another thing weighing on his conscience. Especially not about her; it just might destroy him.

“What does the unsub in the main area look like? Does he look confused? Surprised?” The words were coming, but he didn’t know where from. His body was on autopilot, desperately seeking any validation that they could still save everyone.

“I-I don’t know! He looks grainy! The image is like an inch wide!” She was clearly growing frustrated, which was a feeling they all shared at this point. “This camera is from before I was even born!”

“Try, Penelope,” Morgan pleaded, “Give me something.”

But the other men weren’t willing to wait.

“That’s it. We’re moving in.”

Morgan turned to them, his hand clutching tighter to the phone just in time for her to speak.

“He’s calling for them but they’re not coming out. He looks… Oh no. He’s yelling at Reid now. And... And it looks like someone is coming down the hallway? But he’s not looking–”

It was impossible to focus on everything that was happening, heavy boots and massive commotion as people began to take their positions. But if someone was coming down the hallway, and the unsub didn’t know, that could only mean a few things. Either he was about to be proven disposable, or someone else had fired those shots.

Either way, one thing was clear.

“Wait! We can’t go in there yet!”

—————————————————

There was a point in time where I might have questioned whether I would ever get used to a gun in my face. There was also a point where I actually had gotten used to it. But nothing could have prepared me for this moment, this terrifying realization while staring down the barrel of an assault rifle that I didn’t want to die yet.

I used to think that my life was somewhat disposable. Sure, I was helpful and useful for my job, but ultimately, I considered myself replaceable. The next person to come might not have the same credentials, but they probably wouldn’t also have half the flaws I do.

But now I wasn’t thinking of work. I wasn’t thinking about how replaceable I was, because it wasn’t my life that mattered.

I didn’t want to die yet, because I wanted to see her again.

So I just stared at the weapon, trying to remember that it was still a great possibility that I could. I tried not to think about what was in front of me, choosing to use most of my brainpower to picture what it would feel like when I had her in my arms again.

The vision inside my head ended swiftly, with the sound of rapidly fired weaponry coming from down the hall. Through the commotion of screaming, I surmised that at least two guns had been fired.

Silence followed. It was a stifling, exhausting, painful silence.

What broke it was even worse, with the gun in my face smacking into the side of my head as the man holding it lost his grip at the sound.

“What the fuck was that?!”

He looked at me like he expected me to have the answers, but I didn’t.

“I don’t know. I-I don’t—“ Not only did I not understand why two guns would fire, I didn’t know who had shot them or for what reason. There was one thing I did know. “It sounded like your weapons.”

“Hey, what’s going on back there?!” He shouted, twisting his body just enough to see around the corner.

There was no reply.

“Did your people get in here somehow?” The panic was obvious, and I didn’t know how to calm him down without arousing suspicion. He was continuing to devolve, stepping closer to me as he stuck with his original thought, “How the fuck could they have done that, huh?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is there anything you do know?”

It was a question I’d been asking myself. The longer the silence continued in the back, the more rapidly my anxiety rose. There are only a few reasons why we wouldn’t hear more screaming.

Either someone had managed to get remarkable control over the situation, or all of the hostages were dead. Including (y/n). I forced myself to consider the far less likely, but still possible third option: She was dying, and I could still help her.

“I know that there is still a way for you to get out of this.” I barely recognized my own voice as I rambled, “Is it possible your partners… Is it possible they were planning on leaving together?”

“What?” He sounded disgusted and exhausted, but simultaneously insecure. It didn’t take much effort to realize that he was the weakest of the crew. I’d already had my suspicions that whatever the next step in this journey was, he wasn’t going to be making it with them regardless.

“It was their decision to leave you out here, right? In the place with the most windows and the first access to the door? They put you with all the people most likely to fight back. And now it sounds like…”

I paused, my lips unable to make the next words without a deep breath. “It sounds like they killed the people in the back as a diversion to send in SWAT. Does that sound like something they would do?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

That was enough confirmation for me. It was definitely something they would do, and he knew it. He probably suspected it himself. Thankfully, it gave me enough courage to push back for the first time in this encounter. “Then go back there and see if they’re still there.”

“And just let you be hero and save all these guys? No chance.”

I wanted to laugh; if only he knew the real reason I wanted him to go back there. As terrible as it was, I didn’t care at all about the rest of these men right now. As far as I knew, they were relatively safe. In fact, they were in a better position if what I’d deduced was true. This man, while violent, wasn’t the kind to murder everyone in sight, even when cornered. He’d more likely be shot by SWAT.

“I’ll come with you.” It was a plea, a desperate attempt to get more information that I both wanted and feared. He watched me carefully, trying to read the terror on my face to determine where exactly it was coming from. He knew the hostages were useless to him if he had me, so I wasn’t particularly scared for my life.

At least, not just yet.

“Fine. Get up.”

I willed my legs to stop shaking; to just carry me far enough that I could see her face. I just needed to know that she was okay.

But then I felt a fine mist over my skin— it almost felt like the noise happened after, but I knew logically that couldn’t be true.

A gun fires before the bullets hit their target.

Time seemed to move slower as his body fell to the ground in front of me. My eyes followed him to the floor, but only until I saw the person holding the gun through my peripherals.

“...(y/n)?”

And there she was, clutching tightly onto a rifle, her body barely upright as she staggered forward. There was something remarkably off-putting about the sight of her holding on for dear life to something so morbid. A jarring contrast I would not soon be able to forget, if I ever could.

There was something even more unsettling about the ease with which she carried the weapon, and the fact that she had managed to fire something that powerful without a single stray bullet.

“They’re dead!” She boomed across the room, dropping the weapon onto the floor before she yelled again, “Everyone get out! Hurry!”

No one moved. All of the men, myself included, stared at the tiny girl who’d just saved all of our lives.

“Get out now! There’s a bomb in the back!”

Those were the magic words to stir a panicked crowd into action, people stampeding to the single double door at the entrance, but my eyes were fixed on her. She staggered forward, her arm around her waist and her eyes beginning to roll back.

Perhaps I was just clueless, my one-track mind too slow to navigate the scene in front of me, but it took me that long to see it. My brain rioted against the visuals it took in, the dark crimson dripping down her body. It looked like it would swallow her whole.

I tried to will my body to move, to run to her and do something, anything to help her. But I couldn’t, frozen in place as her small steps got weaker. It wasn’t until I saw her begin to sway that I lunged forward just in time to catch her before she hit the ground.

“Wait!” I screamed to anyone who would listen, my eyes frantically trying to meet someone in the crowd, “Someone get a medic!”

The woman with a child was the last one to pass. She stopped among the commotion, looking down at the carnage in my lap before bolting towards the door.

I had to trust that she would care enough to do something, because from that point on my attention wouldn’t be leaving (y/n). Her eyes were glassy, staring off into the distance and wandering aimlessly despite my face being in view.

“Hey, hey little girl.” My voice crackled as I held her cheek, “Hey, look at me.”

She was finally able to meet my gaze, her eyes filling with love with a small, delirious smile gracing her lips.

“Hey old man.”

The grin didn’t last long, the sounds of her choking and coughing replacing it as blood filled her mouth. I tried to turn her enough that she could spit it out, but it was obvious she was struggling to get any air at all.

“We’re gonna get you some help, okay?” I said with a false confidence, the twisted curve of my lips not even barely resembling a smile.

“It hurts,” she sobbed, her hands slipping in the blood on her stomach.

“I know.”

There wasn’t anything I could do; all I could do was sit there and stare, trying to decide where my hands should be. She was applying pressure to her wound on the front, but I could see the wreckage that was once her back. My hands wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m sleepy.”

“I know.” I was trembling, tears dripping from my face and mixing with the bloody mess; they still couldn’t dilute it, somehow make it vanish. “I know you’re tired. But you’ve gotta stay awake, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

At first, I wanted to say the innocence in her voice was surprising, but it wasn’t. She was innocent. She was just a young girl, trying to live a happy, normal life before she met me.

“You’re doing great.” I tried to convince myself this wasn’t my fault, but it didn’t work. She had said it herself — she wouldn’t have ever come to a bank on her own. The statistics of the rarity of this situation kept playing on a loop in the back of my head, but it was just a low hum beneath the sound of her pained whimpers.

“Spencer, I need to tell you something.” The newfound insistence in her voice twisted in my gut, and my hands held tighter to her arm.

“No, don’t,” I begged, already anticipating what was going to happen. “Please, don’t do this.”

“I have to tell you right now.” And then her voice was calm, a smile on her face as her blood-soaked hand left her stomach, trying to raise to touch me. It didn’t make it.

“No, you can tell me later.”

The words were so slurred and pathetic, I’m surprised she understood them. But she did, taking a deep, whistling breath. It was clear it hurt her to speak, and I wanted to tell her to be quiet, but the masochist in me needed to hear the words all the same.

“Spencer, please. Just listen to me.”

This sounded too much like a goodbye.

“I love you.”

Our bodies rocked as I realized I hadn’t taken a breath of my own in too long, the pain in my oxygen deprived lungs not nearly enough to distract me from the genuine softness of her voice.

“I love you so much,” she whispered, “Do you know that?”

I don’t know how she wasn’t crying, her eyes barely open but too tired to blink. That rosy complexion had faded, her skin blanching the longer she lay in my arms.

“Yes, I know.”

“I love you with my whole heart.”

My mind was flashing images from only a couple hours prior, her warm laugh as she laid on my lap, the way her hair slipped between my fingers while I wove it together.

‘You think you’ll still be around?’

‘If you’ll have me.’

The memories were blurring together, creating a symphony of promises that were about to be shattered in front of my eyes.

‘Forever,’ she’d said. ‘Forever.’

‘A white picket fence. Two little bratty genius babies. Just a normal, domestic life with Dr. and Mrs. Reid.’

Rejecting the thought, I shook my head, “You’re going to be fine.”

“I understand what you meant when…” Her voice was too quiet, too distant, to be this warm. “When you said it was nice to be able to say it.”

The heavy footfalls and sound of a transport bed wheeling across the floor alerted me that I would have to let her go soon. Whether this would be the last time I ever held her, I couldn’t be sure.

“They’re gonna come take you now, but I’ll be right behind them. I promise.” I barely got the words out before their hands were all over her, those tired eyes shooting wide open as unfamiliar hands replaced mine.

“Wait, Spencer!” She cried out, her body too limp to make a meaningful attempt to stop them, “Don’t leave me!”

Her screams and sobs were ringing louder than the gunshots had, my body slowly making its way upright as I watched them place her on the bed.

“I’m not leaving you, I promise.” I tried not to let the panic bleed through, raising the volume as she started to be taken away from me, “Stay awake as long as you can.”

I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her attempts to scream. If she was calling my name, it wasn’t recognizable. I’m not sure which hurt worse— the sound of her tired lips butchering my name, or the silence that followed.

She wasn’t able to scream anymore.

When I emerged from the bank, the sun burned my eyes just as much as the sight of my team shocked to see me covered in blood. But I couldn’t focus on them at all, immediately bolting after the paramedics without another thought.

The extra time it took them to carefully load her allowed me to jump into the back of the vehicle before the doors shut. There were no words to describe this situation, nor make it any better.

So I just stared in horrified fascination, trying to gauge her odds as they rapidly changed in front of me. Of 107,141 firearm injuries last year, 31% died. How many of the 69% had assault rifle wounds? I couldn’t remember any other statistics. My brain had turned itself off, focusing only on the frantic beeping and scrambled voices.

“Where is he?” Her tiny voice cut through both the internal and external noise.

“I’m right here.” I nearly shouted from my precarious position standing in the back of the rattling ambulance. I wanted to move closer, but I was too scared. There were so many hands on her, and I didn’t want to get in the way.

“I’m scared.” She said, mirroring my exact thoughts.

“I’m right here.” I repeated, closing my eyes to hide from the carnage long enough to put words together that might make her feel any ounce of comfort, “You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Taking an experimental step forward once the paramedics seemed settled in their places, I came to stand behind her. My hands were tinted red and trembled as they reached out to touch her cheeks.

She took a sharp inhale at the sensation, just barely holding her head up straight. I couldn’t tell if she was leaning into my touch or just couldn’t control her neck any longer. Her skin felt like ice, and although she was still beautiful, the blue tint creeping over her face struck fear in my heart.

“How much longer until we get to the hospital? Her body temperature is dropping.”

If she heard me, she didn’t respond. I stared at the paramedic who was obviously more concerned with other things at the moment. They were kind enough to give me a response, even if it wasn’t a satisfying one.

“Just a few more minutes. We can’t do anything until we stop the bleeding, sir.”

“Spencer…” Each time she spoke was simultaneously terrifying and comforting. It was confirmation she was alive, but also troublesome, because I knew that she should be reserving her efforts for staying alive.

“Hang in there, little girl. We’re almost there.”

She opened her eyes, staring up at me with clouded vision. I could see the pain so clearly it might as well have been me on the table.

“Please help me,” she sobbed, “help me.”

“I-I can’t.” They were the two hardest words I’d ever had to say. Frustration mounted in me, but none of it was directed at her. She didn’t do anything wrong. Myself, on the other hand, I hated myself in that moment.

She was begging for me to help her, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything but stand here and watch as she bled out in the back of an ambulance, a stranger’s hands practically inside of her stomach.

“I don’t want to die.”

The way her voice cracked took whatever was left of my sanity with it, and I felt my fingertips slip in the blood as I pressed against her face.

“You won’t,” I tried to assure her, “You’re going to be fine. Just stay awake.”

“I can’t.” The usual spunk in her voice had faded, leaving behind the sound of a twenty year old girl with no fight left in her. “I’m so sorry, Spencer…”

‘Sorry?’ I thought below the horror, ‘for what?’

When her eyes shut, they couldn’t even make it all the way. It was an expression I’d seen before on the field. I wasn’t meant to see it on her.

“No. No, no, wake up.” I urged, patting her cheeks softly before closing my hands around them more tightly, “Wake up, little girl, please.”

I was talking to no one, because I don’t think she could hear me anymore. Absolutely nothing in her body changed, even as the paramedics became more rushed.

“I’ve located the bleed!” The woman beside me yelled as the ambulance began to rapidly slow down. “I’m sorry sir, but we need you to move.”

“Whatever you need. Please, just help her.” I’d said the words, but my actions didn’t follow. She stared down at my hands that were still tethered to (y/n)’s face, trying to provide the warmth that she desperately needed.

Somehow, I was able to wrench them away, only then realizing the bloody handprints I’d left behind. Her face still wasn’t moving.

“Please, I—“

Before I could say another word, they were already out of the ambulance. I followed as closely as I could behind them, trying to focus enough to ensure that every word said could be played again in my mind. Because the second she crossed the threshold into the surgery suite, I wouldn’t be able to hear them anymore.

I would have to wait. I would have to wait for her to be better, or wait for a declaration. And in that vast silence, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop from torturing myself with every single word uttered in this building before the doors closed.

The doors were ahead of us now, and I wished time could slow down enough that I could give her one more kiss and tell her to be strong one more time before she went into the Schrodinger’s Box that was the emergency room operating table.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her, and when the thought crossed my mind, I realized that I’d never said it back. She’d said it three times, but in my adamant denial I’d failed to return it.

It was so much like us, I’d almost laughed. She’d made such a point of worrying about me leaving her, neither of us had ever stopped to think about how I’d live without her.

How would I live without her? The only person I trusted to have an answer was wheeled into the room, the door shutting abruptly in front of me.

In the reflection of the metal door I saw myself, drenched in the dark liquid. I tried to clean my face with my hand only to realize that they, too, were dirty with her blood.

The world had fallen silent, and I let myself be crushed by the overwhelming loneliness of an existence without her.

‘Don’t miss me too much, Dr. Reid.’

It was too late.

—————————————————

| Part 15 |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #reid series #dr spencer reid #h2m #spence reid #spencer reid request #reid request

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vendettacanons · 4 years

Text

⚔️ Characterization Hour : Vaas ⚔️

// It’s been a hot minute since I posted anything and I’m sorry for that. My motivation inexplicably tanked this week. I’m feeling a little better now so I’ll get around to my inbox and replies soon. In the meantime, I’ve been playing a lot of Far Cry 3 and analyzing the characters (both to pick up one or two more and specifically to study things for ship ideas and characterization of Vaas specifically).

// Mind the tags for trigger warnings. Far Cry 3 is dark as shit.

// I noted this the first time I watched the cutscenes, but playing through the game and actually getting the full context firsthand really hit different; Citra openly says that Vaas was not always the way he is now. He wasn’t always so crazy. (Granted, both of them are crazy but I’m chalking that up to some idea about genetic things that I’ll talk about later.) She says he wasn’t always a fucking maniac- the drugs turned him into that. The drugs and the unforgiving harshness and cruelty Hoyt and his work demanded of him. She blames Hoyt for turning Vaas into what he is, and she’s right. She mentions that Vaas used to live with her and the Rakyat, and that he had some kind of birthright he ran away from (meaning Vaas is likely supposed to be the one leading the Rakyat and that’s another thing I’ll touch on in a bit.) After Hoyt discovered the islands and began trading drugs to the settlers in exchange for bodies, Vaas was one of the unlucky ones who ended up getting hooked. Hoyt took a liking to him, and put him in a downward spiral.

// There’s more to this though. It’s never explicitly stated how long Hoyt has been in the Rook Islands but we can draw a rough timeline. Not much is known about Hoyt’s upbringing, but it is known that he likely started young, killing his father and joining a criminal consortium before eventually taking it over for himself. No exact age is given, but I’d clock him at 20 then. Our biggest hint to that is a line that we get from him during his fight with Jason. He states “he’s been doing this since before [Jason] was born”. This is likely in reference to attempts made on his life by mutinous Privateers or Pirates. Jason is 25, so his business has lived for about 25 years, which makes sense given Hoyt himself is 45. He must have discovered the Rook Islands later on (thanks to his Pirate lackeys knowing the oceans so well) given that he states he has connections all over the world. I’d say he’s been on Rook for about 10 years, considering he has a whole foothold on the place and a giant satellite dish (which would take years to build by hand, especially when his men are incredibly varied and probably not all experienced in design and building, much less any of the locals). He’s definitely been sitting on the property for a long ass time.

// This makes sense considering Vaas and Citra lived and survived on the island as orphans for a long time- theyre part of the native population. Going by this timeline, Hoyt arrived when Vaas was 17. Perfect timing for him to get hooked onto drugs, abandon his birthright before he was set to receive it, and putting him at an ideal age to be easily manipulated by Hoyt into something evil and sadistic. He was following Hoyt’s example, the drugs just amplified the effect of his cruelty.

// Again this is all speculation and largely headcanon considering Far Cry 3 didn’t give us any solid hints at an actual timeline.

// Branching away from the why, I wanna talk about some headcanons I have about Vaas himself. It is very plain to see throughout the game that Vaas is not entirely bad. I mean, he is irredeemably awful, but there are some points that I want to draw attention to. He obviously cares very deeply for Citra. He mentions it often how he loved his sister and would do anything for her at some point, even kill, and in a conversation with Hoyt he sounds legitimately heartbroken that she is tattooing Jason and giving away his birthright like that. He seems to have this sober moment of clarity where he feels like his sister is replacing him based on how far gone he is. So obviously, part of his emotional instability is chalked up to Hoyt’s conditioning and drugs. But not all of it is.

// Part of Vaas’ mental instability comes fro mugs parents, and Citra is proof of that. There is literally nothing known about their parents, they were abdanoned as children. But both Vaas and Citra carry something from them: mental illness. It’s hard pinpoint exactly what kind, but addiction might very well be in the genetics. Why would Vaas, who was basically a prince capable of having anything he wanted brought to him at the snap of his fingers, turn to drugs? Unless one of his parents was an addict themselves which, again, very possible considering the island’s were likely discovered by the Pirates— meaning prior to Hoyt’s arrival, drugs were still being trafficked. That would account for why Vaas got hooked so quickly, while Citra showed a measure of restraint. However, Citra betrays other things that only genetics could account for. Because the environments they’re in are so vastly different. Both Citra and Vaas demonstrate developign strange obsessions and compulsions. Citra develops an irrational obsession with Jason after he finds an artifact (one that is important to her people granted, but how quickly and deeply she develops it is what makes it so concerning). Vaas just develops obsessions with fools who end up on the island in general— Chris, Jason, etc. In Vaas’ case, it’s hazardously exacerbated by the drugs but hey- Citra wasn’t exactly tame about how she handled it either. It’s impossible to tell what the defined cause of them being so unhinged with their obsessions is given how little else they show, but there’s definitely some common illness they likely inherited.

// And before I go any further, I just want to put a disclaimer that mental illness does not inherently make people evil or more likely to commit crimes or atrocities. That’s not the case at all and that is not what Citra and Vaas are meant to portray in canon or in my own writings. Mental illness is not the reason why both Citra and Vaas are fucked up as characters. Special conditioning to torture, abuse, and kill people, treating them like disposable toys, and violent drug addictions in Vaas’ case, or as a threat against them until proven otherwise/ indoctrinated into their sacred culture in Citra’s case, are. The fact that they may have inherited some type of mental illness from their parents developed as a result of Hoyt before he even showed and it’s gone completely unacknowledged or treated is just a catalyst.

// Anyways, what is the point of all this? Why did I do this characterization assessment? Well, this is basically a long-winded way of describing a new facet to my portrayal of Vaas. One that I’ve been looking for for a while now. With all of my characters, I try not to let them fall flat and be defined by one particular characteristic. In Vaas’ case, this is very difficult. He’s so all over the place and unpredictable that writing him is easy, but actually capturing the essence of him is hard because he is often only portrayed as being one thing: insane. But after playing the game for hours and carefully studying him, I found it really interesting how Vaas has all these “breaks in his insanity”. They mostly happen when he’s talking about family. His quiets up, he softens, and his act vanishes only to pop back up when something seemingly random sets him off again. But the fact he has these breaks at all, and the way he acts during them, implies that part of Vaas— the man that he was supposed to be, is still there. His entire persona is driven by a work and drug motivated impulse to be as destructive and chaotic as possible. And he is. He is cruel, evil, nasty, and wicked. But he’s also still capable of being gentle and loving like he was when he was with Citra. He shows he still loves his family. He even still carries some of their traditions, like calling everyone “brother” or “sister”. There are moments, rare as they are, where he is free from the demands of his work and his addictions aren’t gnawing at him. There are small moments of calm in the storm that he has become. It doesn’t erase or justify the destruction that he inevitably brings. But it does exist. Because Vaas is still a man after all. And he knows there is something really wrong with him. He’s not only guilty, he is tormented by it. He literally gets on his knees and begs Jason to kill him. He knows he’s fucked up. He’s just not strong enough to change.

// TL;DR: Hoyt’s been fucking shit up since before Vaas was born. This is all Hoyt’s fault. He’s the reason Vaas is an orphan, he’s the reason Vaas was mentally unstable even before he gave him drugs and forced him to abandon his birthright and work for him, he’s the reason Vaas is such a wicked little brute that destroy everything he touches. But there are brief moments where his facade cracks and reveals he’s still capable of being the gentle loving brother he once was. He still loves his sister very much and he feels very guilty for abandoning her. He knows there are things wrong with him and he knows he can’t correct them or finish himself off by his own hand, hence why he begs for death in the end. Thanks, Hoyt.

// Looking at it, this will definitely impact my portrayal of Vaas. Probably not by default, but definitely in terms of pre-established relationships and ships going forward. I’ll mention ahead of time that nobody except Hoyt, Citra, and Vaas really know the extent of what has happened to him. Buck does to a certain degree but he doesn’t have the full story. I’ll also say this does not change the fact that most of Vaas’ relationships that aren’t business related are going to be unhealthy or downright abusive, if not for a large portion of it than for all of it. Vaas has proven that he is not above threatening, manipulating, emotionally toying with, and physically hurting people. Especially those he develops obsessions with. He might be infatuated with someone, but his infatuations are far from pure and wholesome. And stemming from that, he is not one of those “fixable” villain types. Lots of love and understanding are not going to cure him. He is not going to go change overnight because someone was nice to him. In general, I dont see Vaas changing for anyone. He’s just too... stubborn and set in his way to do so. But if he does, it’ll require some hardcore chemistry and a metric fuckton of plotting (and probably a dead Hoyt but that’s neither here nor there).

// Anyway if you read this far, you’re awesome and I love you, thanks for coming to my TedTalk. ❤️

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eurydicum · 5 years

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from me to you — r.b [7]

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Popular! Reader

Category: fluff

Summary: Tonight is the night when you confess to Robin

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: This is best read on the website rather than the mobile app, the app flubs up the formatting of it all.

Tag list: @jdogjdyke , @lettersshapes , @marland56 , @silver-winter-wolf, @bandsandanimefreak , @ihavetwospleens , @retrogarden , @hogwartsrey , @kurt-nightcrawler , @g0lly

—

part six || part eight || buckley master list || series master list

“Come meet me inside the school at 8,”

Robin murmured to herself in assurance once more, holding the letter in her hands. Though she didn’t want to admit it out loud, she was perfectly terrified to finally meet her admirer. Her heart was pounding in her chest — rapping in frantic beats.

She came into this meeting knowing the ultimate goal at the end of this all, but she was still uncertain with how everything would unfurl. It could be great, or it could not. Robin wanted this to be wonderful but knew that she could not always get what she wants.

Robin took a deep breath of faith, slowly walking up to the double doors of the school. She noticed that all the lights were on and that a little note card was there for her. Robin slowly picked it up, reading over the familiar handwriting of her admirer.

Hey Robin,

I thought you might enjoy a little more to this whole reveal ;)

I know you’re fond of little mysteries and clues, so directly follow this one and a few others to come and find me.

Go to where I left your first letter.

Robin folded the letter and pocketed in her jacket once again, pushing open the doors of the school. The halls were eerily quiet as only her footsteps and pounding heart filled the void. Normally, in such deserted circumstances, Robin would be freaked out in the slightest, but she was way too eager to allow for fear to come over her.

Eventually, Robin found herself in front of her locker. Floating directly in front of it was a home-made hot air balloon. She cooed at the cute little creation her admirer had set up for her, her hands lightly grazing over the blue fabric of the project. A little flat candle was situated underneath the fabric bag that acted as the ‘balloon’ of it. Inside its basket was a little letter.

Robin blew out the candle and allowed the air balloon to fall into her hands. The balloon became flaccid as she pulled the letter out from the basket.

Perfect! You found the first one!

Let me just say, this locker has never made me more anxious than anything else in the world. There have been so many moments of me standing in front of it and questioning whether or not I should leave the letter or not, and hopefully, I wasn’t wrong in following through will all of them.

But, there have been really great moments just sitting in front of it with you and chatting away the lunch or break period away.

Anyway, obviously, I’m not here so go to the room where Shakespeare comes to life.

“Where Shakespeare comes to life?” Robin hummed to herself in a twinge of confusion, placing the letter back into the basket as she debated where this could be. Quickly, it dawned on her.

With the hot air balloon in hand, Robin hastily made her way down the hallway toward the English 10 classroom. Once arriving at the door, she peered inside to see the room completely dark — save for the candle that powered the next hot air balloon.

She carefully stepped inside, the door creaking open as she walked over toward the balloon. It was far larger than the other one, almost twice the size of it, and it wasn’t actually floating like the previous one.

A book was placed inside the basket, which perhaps had been what was weighing down the hot air balloon. Robin blew out the candle and took hold of the basket, walking out of the classroom to get into the light.

Robin sat on the tile floor of the hallway, pulling out the book from the basket and tucking the smaller hot air balloon into the larger one. Her hands carefully grazed against the pages of the book, noticing that this was the book that her class finished two months ago.

She checked out the sides of the book, noticing numerous post-it-notes sticking out from the sides and folded pages. The typical good English student book. Robin opened up the front cover of the book. Inside the page of the paperback, there was faded pencil writing alongside the main passage. First and foremost, she read over the main passage.

I think this might out me before you actually see me, but who’s to say?

You don’t believe in anything until you see it.

I’d say one of the most terrifying moments (apart from this) was spent with you in this classroom so many months ago, but I’m glad I pulled through with it. Without that day, I probably would’ve never gotten to know you better.

Go to the room that smells oddly of perfume and smoke next.

Robin’s eyes flickered back over to the faded writing in the top corner. She squinted her eyes, bringing the book closer to her face in the hopes of being able to read the faint section.

“32?” Was the only intelligible part of the erased writing. Robin pursed her lips together, her mind clouding and unable to remember where she recognized this from. Although, the writing was far too faded for her to actually identify the words or handwriting.

She leaned her head against the wall of the hallway, her mind trying to juggle two different thoughts at once.

Who did I get to know more through English?

What smelled of perfume and smoke?

Robin got to know you, Tammy, Carol, and a few other straggling names and faces. But she couldn’t pin-point which girl it could be. Nevertheless, she brushed off the thought — no need to figure it out when her admirer was perhaps feet away from her. Robin sat there and lulled, attempting to think of where her next clue would be.

“Perfume and smoke?” Robin muttered to herself as she stood up from the ground, picking up the book and two air balloons with her. She lugged slowly down the hallway as she continued to think. After a slow minute of thinking, she finally realized where the next balloon would be.

Robin found herself sprinting toward the women’s bathroom, throwing open the door to see the hot air balloon floating over she sink. She heavily sighed with relief and excitement, holding the door open with one hand and yoinking the air balloon out of there.

The letter was soon opened by her hands and a rather short note was written inside.

Okay if I talk about this one I’d totally out myself, so we’ll ignore it for now.

Anyhow, I’ve never been here before, but go where the music is at its loudest.

“Okay, band room,” Robin confirmed aloud, continuing down the hallway to head downstairs to the underground level of the school. She took this leisure time to think for a little while as she strolled down the corridors and down the steps.

How should I react when I finally meet her?

Robin wasn’t sure of whether or not she’d be pleased to find out the identity of her admirer. Some mysteries are best left undiscovered, but should this be one of them?

Was she pretty? Was she kind? Was she quirky? Or witty?

She wanted to know for the sake of ending the mystery of it all, but she was utterly terrified for the worst outcome. It was very possible that her admirer was a right on creep, but her way with words seemed to speak otherwise. And it was made evident in the letters that she definitely knew this mystery girl, but which one of her friends or acquaintances could it be?

Robin paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the next hot air balloon with a tinge of doubt. For a moment, she wanted to go back and leave the mystery a mystery. But, her stubbornness and swimming in too deep kept her from doing so.

She less enthusiastically blew out the candle and open the letter, solemnly reading over the letter.

I’ve never actually been down here before, but when I came down here to leave this … wow. All the instruments I could see through the glass are so pretty and beautifully polished.

You know, I’ve never heard you play before, but I’d absolutely love to. I’m sure you’re amazing, especially after a decade of playing.

If you’ll have me, I’ll show up at your guys’ next marching band performance and cheer you on :)

Find my next letter where it’s red and some of the most beautiful of art is produced.

Robin smiled softly at this, feeling ever the slightest bit more relaxed from her previous doubts. Already with this little letter alone, she could tell that her admirer definitely had care behind her, but that didn’t exactly convince her.

She traced her thumb over the parchment before folding the letter back up again. Robin threw her caution and suspect to the wind, prodding onward with her little scavenger hunt.

Initially, Robin thought the next clue would be in the art room, but that place certainly was not ‘red’. Therefore, it singled out the developing room Jonathan had mentioned here and there.

Robin couldn’t quite remember where it was located and spent a few minutes trying to find the goddamn room. She frantically looked up and down the hallways, scrambling about to just find the next letter.

Eventually, she found the exact room she was on the hunt for — thank God. She flickered on the red light and stepped into the room, noticing the air balloon at the very end of the room.

Robin reached for the photo in the basket, smiling softly at the photograph of a robin. She remembered getting a similar photograph from her admirer not so long ago, and every single one of those pictures were strung up on her room’s wall.

Robin flipped over to see the backside of the photo, reading over the small print written in permanent marker.

Robins are cute, but you’re the cutest

Sorry for being cheesy, I’m lame sorry-

Anyway, I really hope you ended up keeping the photo I developed for you. Once you find out who I am, give big thanks to Jonathan for putting up with my pathetic ass since he helped me develop these photos.

No worries, I’m sure you’re secretive about your sexuality as I am. Jonathan doesn’t know about my crush on you hehe

You’re almost there to finding me :)

Go where you received your first physical present from me.

Robin instantaneously made her way to the library. As she made her way closer to the library, she could hear familiar music playing from inside. Her hands pushed open, believing that she’d finally find the identity of her admirer.

However, the moment she stepped inside, all she was met with was another hot air balloon. Robin sighed heavily, running her hand through her hair. She blew out the candle and allowed the air balloon to fall onto Mrs. Hudson’s desk.

Robin simply looked at the letter sitting inside the basket, almost too frightened to actually hold the letter. She already instinctively knew that this would be the last air balloon and that she was moments away from meeting the girl behind the letters.

“It’s gonna be now or never,”

This is the second to last letter for you, I’ll keep this one brief so as to just pour everything out on the last letter before you come find me.

Find the book that matches the one I recently gave you.

Robin began walking around the shelves, fingers gracing over the spines until she found the exact one she had been looking for. She pulled it out, seeing the edge of a letter poking out.

Robin returned the book but kept the letter. Her name was so elegantly written on the front, exactly as it had been with the first letter. Shakily, she peeled off the last wax seal and pocketed it — as she always did.

For the last time, she hesitated to open it. Robin held her breath as she began to unfold the letter, the familiar fragrance of roses hitting her senses. She smiled sadly at the familiarity of it all and finally opened the letter to its fullest.

Dear Robin,

I thought it was appropriate for this letter to be the only formal one of mine. It’s been a long seven months of feeling such a romantic interest in you, and I’m really sorry for not being able to find it in myself to confess sooner. Here I am now, though — thankfully.

I’ve found myself having a physical attraction to you at first, and finding all your quips and quirks to be so endearing and cute. But all of that came from a naive person who didn’t know a damn thing about you.

Now, here we are (seven months later), and we’re closer than I could have ever dreamed. Not only has my adoration grown, but I’ve learned more about you and gotten to actually know you.

I know that going into this friendship you warned me that I wouldn’t like you if I knew who you really are, and you were right. I love you for who you are, and for owning up everything about you. You wore your personality on your sleeve, and you only managed to draw me in more rather than repel me away.

Robin Buckley, I’m absolutely smitten for you and this I’m sure.

If you’ll have me, find me where the sun both touches first and touches last. I’ll see you soon.

Yours Truly. ♡

Robin carefully closed up the letter and stepped further into the library, catching sight of the hidden steps that led up to the rooftop. Her heart pounded in her chest harder than before, and she felt dizzy with fear that her steps felt long and heavy.

From above, you heard the steps coming up behind you. Your hands balled tightly to your sides. You wanted to collapse from the frightening factor alone. This could entirely break your friendship — whether it be good or bad.

“[Y/N]?” Robin’s voice broke the silence and you felt the world pause. You turned around to her, seeing her shocked expression. All the hot air balloons and book she held fell to the ground in a moment of shock.

In her eyes, she saw you standing in the darkness, but lit up by gorgeous fairy lights that lined the rooftop and filled the sky. At that moment, you were absolutely beautiful and evangelical, and she couldn’t have imagined a better act of confession.

Both of you approached one another, silent and steady with your strides. You met in the center, a good foot away from one another. Robin held her breath, afraid to say a word. You exhaled softly, smiling shyly.

“Robin, I really like you,” You firmly said. Robin’s bright smile had been her simple reaction, and she reached forward to hold your hands.

“[Y/N],” Robin murmured softly, tracing the backs of your hands with her thumbs. Her smile fled for a moment, unsure of how to phrase this in a way that wouldn’t hurt you.

Robin really liked you. She also appreciated how far you’ve come in confidence, from being sure of your sexuality to your liking of her. She recognized that you were jumping hurdles and risking so much with just this confession alone — not to mention having to sneak around getting her those little presents and notes just for the sake of leaving her something sweet.

You both grew from being total strangers to being really close friends. From the moment that you defended her from Carol and defied your friends, she knew that you were someone different — someone special.

Since the beginning, she could tell that you were putting in the effort to be kind to not only her but her friends too. With that, she knew you were a good person and someone worthwhile.

“You’re wonderful,” Robin began, and she looked deeply into your eyes as she spoke. “And I really like you. I just, can’t … not yet,” She softly began. You felt your heart stop and your smile slowly fade, but you kept silent as you let her speak.

“I’ve been seduced by this secret admirer for months on end, and I’m glad it’s you,” Robin honestly confessed, her hands drawing from yours to instead cup your face.

“I just need a little more time before any dating can happen between us,” She began to explain. “I’ve only known you as a friend and known your letters as a whole other person,” Robin glanced away for a moment before exhaling sharply. Her hands departed from your face, but her gaze poured into you — shining with honesty and love.

“I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t think you’re so damn cute, or if I said that you weren’t clever and creative,” Robin chuckled gently. “You’re exactly my type,”

“As I said, I just need a little more time to process everything and,” She paused for a moment. “I’m not ready to have a girlfriend yet, I barely understand myself. When I’m confident and ready, I will definitely go out with you and be a good girlfriend and everything,” Robin began to laugh sweetly, and her hands slowly slipped into her jacket pockets — feeling the texture of the wax seal in between her fingertips.

“I want to be good for you — hell, I want to be perfect for you,” Robin snickered lightly. “I know you probably think I’m already perfect so don’t hit me with that line,” She winked.

“Just give me the time to be good with myself so I can feel good with you too,” Robin finalized, curling some of her hair behind her ear as she patiently waited for your worded reaction.

“I totally get it,” You smiled, honestly relieved to hear her words. “You need your time and I’m not gonna push anything,” You agreed.

This moment between you was gentle and genuine, and you couldn’t ask for anything more. Truly, Robin liked you as well as you liked her. However, it was true that all of this was happening so quickly. You didn’t expect her to immediately jump into a relationship. You were glad that both of you would be taking everything slowly, but surely.

You couldn’t ask for anything better than this moment.

You reached for one of her hands, holding her so delicately. Your touch was so gentle and soft, treating her as she would shatter upon contact.

“Can I leave one kiss?” You asked shyly. She smiled at this, finding your caution and politeness absolutely adorable.

“Why not?” Robin shrugged with a little smile. You grinned and rose her hand to your lips — placing the faintest of kisses on the back. Your eyes flickered from her hand to her face, smiling small.

“I’ll wait for however long you need me to,”

#robin buckley #robin stranger things #robin buckley x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine

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silenthillmutual · 5 years

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okay. warning for negative bc this is kind of a vent post?

so. i’m still working on unlearning a lot of things that i had kinda drilled into my head with my mom that i did not realize were bad until recently? or things that i could not easily voice were having negative effects on me until recently. and i’m kind of thinking about how my mom is very. hhhhhhhh.

my mom does not have a life outside of work. and not like, “oh she’s very dedicated to her career” sort of way. but like, she does not believe in taking time off. and i think in the way our capitalist environment functions that always comes off sounding very admirable. it’s not.

because what that equates to is like, she works to avoid other things in her life. she says that she can’t afford to take a break or any time to herself and my best friend and i had told her repeatedly that if she really wants a relationship she is going to have to take time to devote to that which means working less if only by a little bit! and that i have told her that she should take time to herself to relax whether she had a relationship or not because it’s not healthy to obsess over work the way that she does.

and. i guess she does a bit now. i saw recently on her fb that she went to colonial beach w her boyfriend and like. good for her. but that doesn’t erase that she is constantly harping on me, even from a distance, to do like. everything all in one day. and that i should be working 40+ hours a week and that if i don’t do that, that i’m lazy.

like my mom’s version of workaholism is to view herself as the rule and not the exception, which i can see in certain contexts how that translates into “oh so she’s not full of herself” but it’s actually really the opposite! because i think it takes a special brand of narcissism to assume that everyone is and should be exactly like you and that if they are not they are failing and that is their own fault.

so, my mom has fibro, like on top of all of that and i wonder if she’d feel better if she didn’t constantly push herself into working all the time. and the truth is that she’ll look at any time i spend online regardless of what i’m doing (bc she doesn’t ever care what i’m actually doing on there, to her it’s all the same) as time wasted and an addiction to the internet. and she thinks that everyone else w fibro or w any chronic or mental illness can work exactly as much as she can because if they do anything less they’re being lazy.

and i think you can kinda see why it’s an issue for a licensed therapist to think or feel that way.

so like. i have never pursued any job that says it’s part time, under $10 an hour that wants me to work 39 hours a week (one hour from full time in the commonwealth of va), no benefits, 8 hours every day, retail, with a massive list of responsibilities. because i know that i can’t handle doing 8+ hours which is how much it’ll wind up being if they want me to open/close (taking into consideration traffic and people who just will not fucking leave), like i had to struggle to work 8 hours at a job i actually LIKED without thinking of working at fucking target or some shit for 8+ hours a day. i can’t do it. between the anxiety and the autism that sounds like something that will make me absolutely want to die and i know this because i tried that at party city for three days and came home in tears every single day and my feet hurt so bad i couldn’t move.

and my mom’s response to that was like. just deal with it! just push through it! you have to!

you’d think a therapist with a chronic illness would be more compassionate than that.

but my mom’s whole life is focused on work and i don’t even think it’s because she just loves her job that much. she just refuses to do anything outside of it. she has a dog and a cat (MY cat I adopted her she is under MY legal name and that dog is basically my dog, he was my baby) that i was under no circumstances allowed to take with me regardless of where i went or when, but that she does not...enjoy. at all. she is constantly bitching about the pets and she bought an automatic feeder and self-scooping litterbox and hired pet sitters not for the occasional trip out to her boyfriend’s but for like a regular thing because she is at home as little as possible. every single second that she can spend at work she will.

and she hated that i didn’t spend 6-8 hours at work (more counting traffic) and then want to spend all of my free time looking for a second or different job and cleaning the house and cooking all the meals and running all the errands and taking care of the pets. with no help.

and that’s part of what i mean about her working to get out of having to do other things. because she also works so much so that she can get out of eating. like. ever. her body image issues are so fucked up that she will eat one meal a day and be like “ugh i’m such a pig i’m so fat i should stop eating maybe then i’ll lose weight”. and then she’ll deny that she he has an unhealthy relationship to food and claim she just “doesn’t have time to eat” even though she apparently has time to bitch at me over facebook or henpeck her boyfriend and read 8 different versions of her horoscope in an hour + longer breaks

like i’m sorry but if i could eat in 30 minutes with my coworker calling me to panic on the other end bc everyone decides to come into the library at the same fucking time then i think maybe. just maybe. you can eat a goddamn granola bar in 2+ hours while sitting at your desk instead of saying “i should be writing notes” and not actually writing your fucking notes!

what really kinda. bothers me all about it. like in addition to all this super unhealthy stuff that makes her occupation as a therapist hypocritical as hell is how she criticizes me for doing the exact shit that she does.

by which i mean. holding other people to my standards.

i’ve worked a lot at not being judgmental of other people and challenging my own notions of what is right and acceptable when i find myself judging other people. it’s really hard. i think it’s connected a lot to being autistic and the kind of biases that we’re all brought up into and it’s why travelling and secondary education are really important, not even just because of learning aspect (although liberal arts forcing you to take classes outside of your comfort zone. i think helps a lot in this too) but because meeting people from all different kinds of backgrounds makes you look at things from different angles you wouldn’t have otherwise, because if you never leave you never broaden your horizons.

so when there are still standards that i hold people to it’s. i try to just hold people to “not being a total asshole to everyone around you” as a relatively basic standard that i don’t think should be controversial? but even when i voice that opinion - like, literally, i went to richmond cc with two friends and when i got back i was telling my mom about this guy who was very loudly, specifically so that i could hear his unsolicited opinion of my cosplay, talking about how bad/boring jojo was because he knew i was dressed as someone from jojo and he wanted me and everyone else around him to know his opinion of jojo, then went and started mocking his friend for wanting to buy a gba instead of a gameboy sp bc his friend and i both saw the mother 1+2 and mother 3 cartridges and was just being an asshole! again! and i was just complaining to her after the fact about this guy being a dick and my mom’s response, not even like an “i don’t get it but i’m sorry” first was just

“well maybe he’s autistic”

and! i’m sorry! but that! doesn’t fuckign fly with me! i said “so am i that doesn’t mean i go around being an asshole to everyone at con”

and she was like “well maybe he’s not as high-functioning as you you can’t hold everyone to your standards”

NO! NO MAYBE HE WAS BEING AN ASSHOLE BECAUSE HE’S CIS WHITE GUY AND THINKS EVERYONE NEEDS TO KNOW HIS OPINIONS! do you know how many fucking people go to con are autistic????? a whole shit ton of us! do you know how many poc, trans, nb, not-straight people loudly voice their opinions to make the people around them including their friends feel like shit? NONE OF THEM! NONE OF THEM! NONE OF THEM! ONLY THE CISHET WHITE GUYS WHO THINK THEY’RE TOO GOOD FOR COSPLAY FUCKING DO THAT!

and it’s so irritating! like i’m not allowed to talk about my autism EVER and even when my standards are REALLY FUCKIGN LOW i’m being too judgmental of others but she’s allowed to talk about how everyone who doesn’t work 40+ hours every week and starve themselves is fucking?? lazy????

unreal. un fuckign believable.

#nori talks #nori's adventures in moving out

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hiraethtae · 5 years

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I purple you not- PT 5: I am Fine

Previous Parts: Prologue, Pt1, Pt 2 (½), Pt 2 (2\2), Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5

ao3

Synopsys:

Kim Taehyung runs an army twitter and is much active in the fandom. He’s known by all the fandom by his internet alias Teaberry and yet none of ARMY know his gender, name or have ever seen his face and is a mystery persona who is known mostly for spreading positivity. What happens when He decides to take drastic measures by buying 300 BTS world tour tickets and giving them away to ARMY, as a move against the resllers?

by doing so, Taehyung aquires the attention of the the world and the boys he stans, while changing the meaning of ARMY altogether.

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

notes: IT TOOK ME 10 MONTHS TILL I COULD CONTINUE THIS STORY IM SORRY OMGOD WTF(cough) anyways!! Pt 5 is out!!

|_PT 5: I am Fine.

It's been several days since everything blew out of proportion and Taehyung was one hundred per cent done. Actually, he wasn't. He was more likely trying to convince himself to walk away before it got more out of hand then it is. Teaberry's account was flooded with messages and so were Taehyung's notifications. In the first time of his life, Taehyung put his phone on silent and started thinking maybe he bit off more than he could chew. He sat on the sofa in his black and white apartment and pressed his hands to each other. Breathing in deeply and then breathing out through his teeth, he raised his head and decided that he honestly could care less.

Or so he said. It’s not that Taehyung didn't care. It's just that he was feeling so much at once that he was overwhelmed and couldn't understand what he was feeling; only that he was on the verge of a panic attack. Taehyung's work phone decided to distract him at the right moment. A blinking notification lit up the dark screen; 2 NEW MAIL.

Taehyung picked up the device with cold fingers and slid it open. He had two letters he had not seen yet. One was from the Mama organizers who invited him each year to the yearly Mama awards, and the other from Holly. Taehyung decided that he could reply to the first mail later on. He never attended the Mama awards and Taehyung wasn’t planning on changing that habit. Holly's mail only had 2 words.

H a v e f u n.

And beneath it a single document of several fansign tickets and one ticket to a BTS concert.

Taehyung threw his phone against the wall and couldn't breathe.

|_8th of June

On the day of the fansign Taehyung considered running away to live in New Zealand and changing his name, living out his days in a hobbit home, farming out the rest of his life… he had it all figure out. Instead, he reacted as any normal human being who was in a stressful situation would react: Taehyung locked himself in his room and moped while trying to control his harsh breathing. His coping mechanism wasn't doing so well for him. Staring at the wall blankly for hours could make a man go mad. Unfortunately for Taehyung, he also had a habit of overthinking and that usually made it worse.

This morning Holly dragged him out of his covers and forced him to shave and wash up. She helped him dye his hair too. Her eyes were rimmed with dark circles matching his yet the reasons for their exhaustion varied. She had been coming by each day, forcing him to get out and breathe some fresh air; to jog with her in the darker hours of the night when no one was around.

"You need to be alone right now but you also need to take care of yourself. So no people or crowd, er, except the fansign of course but a crowd of girls shouldn’t be a problem. But you have to get out of here." She worked at night when he slept, golden eyes rimmed with red.

It wasn't always this way. Taehyung was naturally cheerful. He found joy in the simplest things and the most ridiculous ideas. He used to love crowds, being in the centre of attention making everyone laugh and smile with him. He knew those parts of himself weren’t erased (considering his whole plan for fighting off the resellers) yet a part of him has withered away. It happened over the years. Taehyung lost his passion and instead, a faded polio photograph of him was left. The reason he was standing here was because of BTS. Vante and Teaberry exist because of BTS. It's time Taehyung brought them back he just wondered if he could do that.

"I don't understand why you never went to see them," Holly said while rummaging around in his closet.

"See who?"

"BTS? The group who basically because of them I'm your best friend?" She didn't turn around to see him shrug.

"I was busy."

Holly snorted and gave him an amused look. Her eyes were sharp and her teeth were bared in a smile Taehyung found chilling. She threw a bundle at clothes into his lap. "Liar."

Taehyung clutched a fist into the fabric and moved his gaze away from her. Her eyes, on the other hand, bore holes into his side profile.

"I think you were scared of what would happen when you see them for real."

Taehyung started tapping his foot on the carpeted floor. Holly closed the closet door with a loud click. Taehyung swallowed and looked up. Her hair was a shade of dark brown then. "I think you were scared you would realize it was all for nothing."

Years have passed since that conversation. Four years to be exact and the flame truly did die out. It was odd how their interactions involving his inner psyche almost always involved Holly rummaging in his closet. Today, she found this whole situation as a learning experience. She was crouched in his shoe closet like a red-headed gremlin, picking up and examining different pairs of expensive soles Taehyung has gathered over the years. Holly turned around and looked at his outfit, frowned, then proceeded to rummage again with a loud clatter, “I think it's time for you to go and make sure that flame burns bright again."

Taehyung shuffled in place, bare feet pushing into the soft carpet on his floor. His toes peaked beneath his slightly oversized pants and wiggled. "Why did it die out in the first place?"

"Honestly Tae, who’s the one who studied psychology in their free time? You know the answer to this better than I.” She huffed and threw a pair next to his peaking toes. Holly leaned her chin into her palm with raised brows. Taehyung stubbornly kept his mouth shut and stared in absolute fake fascination at the fake plant on his desk. Holly let the silence drag on for another minute before sighing and got to her feet. Taehyung closed the apartment door after her as his phone began to ring. Holly’s name appeared on his screen next to a purple heart and he didn’t offer a greeting as she continued where she left off, uttering his dreaded thoughts.”-I think in your attempt to preserve your passion from a distance-" Holly's voice echoed from his phone on loudspeaker while Taehyung started to make coffee very loudly as well as the sound of cars and wind as she walked on the street to get to her day job didn’t affect her volume. "-pushed you away from the original feeling that made you go 'This is what I want to do. This is what I want to share with the world.' And as a result, your subconscious burned the flame out by itself."

"I always knew I was self-destructive," Taehyung said wryly and gagged on the bitter taste of his drink. He decided to make tea instead.

Holly laughed in a hollow way while a bus horn echoed in the empty apartment. Her voice crackling through the phone she said, "Aren't we all?"

Taehyung picked up his phone that had seen better days and wandered into the bathroom. His eyes weren't rimmed with red like before and his eye bags had mostly disappeared. His hair was dyed a dark black which grew out into a tiny mullet behind his ears. His cheeks looked fuller and healthier. He stopped biting his lips last weeks and they weren't bleeding any more. Taehyung looked healthier then he was for a while and it made him feel that on the inside he could be better too.

"See you later."

Holly hummed a reply while a woman screamed “Taxi!” in the background before the screen went dark. Taehyung looked at his reflection once more and tried to smile. It made him happy to see it was more genuine this time. He was dreading going to the fansign but also alighted. It made him feel what he lost all those years ago. It made him feel young, alive and burning.

When Taehyung arrived at the fansign he thought he must have gotten the wrong address. Yet, the gaggle of girls holding different Army bombs, wearing shirts with the names of the idols etched on them in different colours and the excited screams of hormonal teenagers seemed to prove him wrong.

Taehyung tucked his chin in his blue scarf and tried to breathe normally. He used to not mind crowds and revelled in them. Now he couldn’t help but shrink into himself. If his followers on Twitter could see the outgoing Teaberry now… The mere thought made him snort bitterly.

An incredibly short girl came running by, screeching like a bird and stepping on Taehyung’s shoes. He looked down at his soles and then at the girl who ran off still screeching and wearing a very unflattering Min Yoongi meme shirt. Taehyung blinked after her, a pout already forming under his face mask. It not often he got trampled by girls but his shoes were new and WHITE. A voice interrupted his moment of sulking. “Need a wet wipe?”

Taehyung blinked and turned away from the girl who was now flailed her arms around, smacking peoples things from their arms as she told something to a gaggle of her friends with an excited expression. A boy yelled at her when she made him drop his phone and the girl apologized with wide eyes.

In front of Taehyung stood an amused looking woman who appeared to be a year or so older then Taehyung. She had smile lines and a grin to match, hair raised in a casual bun. Hanging from her neck was a professional camera.

Taehyung looked down at his shoes again and smiled sheepishly, his mask hiding his expression. “I think I might. Thank you.”

The woman snickered and handed him a disposable wet wipe with Burger King logo. “First time at a fansign? You have to be careful of the small ones, they are just balls of energy.” Taehyung opened the plastic and breathed in deeply the lemony scent wafting from the wipe, it’s refreshing smell immediately calming his nerves from the stuffy area. Crowds made him anxious these days. Taehyung couldn’t remember how it felt not to be in a constant state of social anxiety. He crouched down to clean off the smudge and grunted when it refused to wipe off the white sneaker. A hand suddenly appeared in front of him. Taehyung looked up at the woman and her camera dangled dangerously close to his face when she leaned down, brown eyes glinting.

“My name is Soomin.”

“Taehyung.” He replied and took her hand, smudge forgotten.

Soomin introduced him to a few more girls, all carrying oversized cameras in their hands or around their necks. They were close to his age and were hobbyist fansites. They were inside of the hall at the beginning of the line and in the first row, Taehyung in the middle between 3 bickering woman.

“I can’t go to each concert or meeting they have, I have a life too.” Bok Jo snorted, her short black hair held back with a bright orange headband. “Their schedule has gotten so busy I don’t know how those full-time fansite masters do it.”

“Soomin, on the other hand, is a free-lance photographer for a living. She has more free time then all of us combined.” Mina said, inspecting her camera lens with her tongue between her teeth and furrowed brows.

Taehyung turned to the latter with raised brows. “Freelance? And you take idol pictures in between?”

Soomin grinned, unabashed. She was sitting in a laid back manner, her arms casually thrown over Mina’s chair. “Same idols pay me to take their pictures too. I work for Dispatch part-time.”

Bok Jo produced an offended noise. “How can you? They basically eat up scandals and whatever other bullshit.”

Mina piped up with raised brows, “BUT, their pictures are good.”

“Yeah, whatever still frigging snakes.”

Soomin shrugged. “I don’t do that kind of stuff.”

Bok Jo’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “You better. Or you won’t be any better than those saseaengs. All that invading privacy shit is crazy.” She turned toward Taehyung. “What about you new kid? You have a fansite?”

Taehyung blinked, surprised at being addressed. “Uh no, it’s my first time seeing them.” He spent the majority of the conversation listening or zoning out and the others have seldom addressed him. When they just walked in Taehyung tried to slip into the back but the three women noticed and dragged him next to them, laughing about “getting the best shots” and “come on boy you will be right in front of the stage.”

Bok Jo and Mina gaped at him with raised brows, “Really? With that kind of camera?” Bok Jo asked in surprise. “That baby isn’t cheap! Not a lot of pros use it either.”

“Yeah the only one I could think of that uses that camera all the time is Vante but he’s been on hiatus for almost over a year.” Mina mused and probed at Taehyung’s camera. Taehyung smiled sheepishly and pulled the device closer to his lap. He took it on a whim when he went out, thinking of taking a few pictures to commemorate his first fansign and maybe getting a few pictures of BTS’s members on the way.

The last time he used this camera was almost a year ago when he went to visit his grandma on her birthday. Vante’s last photo was of her strawberry fields and Taehyung hadn’t touched it since. Taking out of its box that was stuffed beneath his bed for over 6 months was progress. This was progress.

Taehyung shrugged and let his lips curve upwards slightly beneath his face mask. “I’ve had it for a while.”

The three women exchanged amused glances just as the venue turned dark. Girls scream assaulted Taehyung ears as his eyes shot forward to stare at the stage to witness the 6 members of BTS walk on stage with smiles and waving hands, mics in their hands. Taehyung gulped nervously as Flashes echoed around him. Soomin, Bok Jo and Mina already set off in taking pictures and Taehyung couldn’t help but gape in amazement. Big eyes wide and a wide boxy grin spread across his face as he raises his own camera and took his first picture of 6 smiling men that he has loved and looked up since their debut all those years ago.

The fans begin their fanchant and the boys laugh with bright smiles. Kim Namjoon hair is dark brown and slicked back softly as he greets the crowd, a big smile showing off his dimples. Taehyung can faintly hear faint buzzing in his ears as the crown and noise blend all together. He stares and stares and raises his camera once more, taking picture after picture. Jimin and Hoseok laugh at Seokjin’s joke and wander off to sit down at the table for all 6 members. Yoongi and Jimin shuffle after them with Jungkook in toe, poking the cotton haired elder with a cheeky smile. Picture after picture of grinning boys and bright eyes.

Soomin suddenly leans into Taehyung’s field of vision with glinting eyes. “You are natural.”

With a start he realized that most of the fansite masters have put their cameras down, waiting for the boys to be seated once more and for the event to begin. Taehyung capped his lens with an awkward laugh. “It’s been a while since I’ve taken so many photos.”

“Those are some high-quality ones too.” Bok Joe whistled and slapped him on the back. “Welcome to the family, kid!”

Mina smiled at him over her head with an approving nod and Taehyung felt a feeling he hadn’t felt for a long time bloom in his chest. At this moment he truly felt grateful for Holly sending him those tickets.

Jeon Jungkook was smiling at the fangirl sitting across from him. Her bright pink dyed hair is similar to Jimin’s hair currently suited her well as she gushed to him about her day. The fan signing began without any problems and Jungkook breezed through one signed album and another short conversation quickly enough. Female faces blurred together in a flurry of colours. A break appeared and he waved, smiled and posed for the fansites in the front row while Jimin poked and pulled at Jungkook’s hair, entertaining the crowd.

It was BTS’s first fansign promoting their new album “WINGS”, before their scheduled world tour. To say Jungkook wasn’t excited was an understatement. A week has passed since his mental breakdown in the dorm and to combat against it Jungkook threw himself into practice. His bandmates dragged him away from the dance studio to play games, watch movies, and even play board games once they noticed. All the attention eventually made him antsy so he declined Jimin’s offer to play a video game with him yesterday, instead choosing to bundle up in his bed and watch youtube videos. Namjoon took him aside this morning with a soft gaze. “Gguk, no overworking till you drop okay?”

Jungkook nodded and while all the members played and joked with the makeup artists running around, he drew in his sketchbook instead. Yoongi probed him with his leg when he was applying the finishing touch, “That looks great Jungkook-ah.”

The rappers hair was dark with blue streaks and his gaze was sleepy. Jungkook grinned at the other, “Thanks, hyung.”

He could handle being around the members but sometimes he needed his space. His social battery needed recharging, especially before a fansign.

Jungkook waved goodbye to the pink haired girl, briefly looking down to fix his shirt as the next person sat down in front of him.

“Hello.” A surprisingly deep voice said. Jungkook looked up in surprise. It wasn’t often they saw male fans, especially at a fansign. The boy seemed to be the same height as Jungkook, dark hair hidden in a hat and a face mask covering his lower half. The fan’s eyes, on the other hand, Jungkook could see clearly: One monolid and the other no, dark and big. He found them fascinating.

“Hello,” Jungkook said just as softly, a smile blooming across his face. The male stared at him and then shook his head with eyes crinkling at the sides. The boy was smiling and Jungkook was endeared. “Hi.”

Jungkook laughed at the second greeting, “What’s your name?”

“Taehyung.” The male replied, his voice breathy and low. Jungkook found it oddly appealing his voice. He had never heard such a timbre before.

“Hello Taehyung, I’m Jungkook.”

“I know.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched in a cheeky smile and he pulled the album Taehyung was holding in his hands closer to his side of the table, flipping through the pages and pen in hand. He noted that Taehyung had really nice hands and long fingers.

“First time at a fansign?” Jungkook continued, peaking to see Taehyung staring at the album. The male jerked upwards, eyes wide and nodded quickly.

“First time everything. I’ve never gone to any event or concert actually.” Taehyung murmured, voice soft but reaching Jungkook’s ears perfectly clear in the crowded hall. Taehyung smiled beneath the face mask again, eyes crinkling. “I’ve been BTS’s fan since debut.”

Jungkook grinned in response and leaned forward, chin in hand. “What’s your favourite song?”

Taehyung laughed. No, he giggled and Jungkook was captivated. “I can’t choose.”

“What do you listen most to then?”

Taehyung seemed to think for a moment while looking upwards at the ceiling with a hum. His gaze met Jungkook’s amused one. “Whalien 52 and Jump.”

“Damn those are old.”

Taehyung laughed once more, now a deep and genuine big guffaw. “No, they aren’t.”

Jungkook began to write in the album, taking his time and scribbling a drawing. His eyes glinted as he leaned even farther forward. “Bias?”

Taehyung leaned forward too. His eyes were a shade of deep caramel. “Shouldn’t I be asking the questions, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook felt a jolt of surprise at the drop of honorifics but accepted it. He didn’t know how old the other was but he seemed close to his age. He grinned in response. “You seemed kind of nervous.”

“Anyone one would be.” Taehyung mumbled, gaze dropping to stare at his lap. “I’ve been hearing your music for ages and I’ve followed you since debut…You guys mean a lot to me.” He looked up at the last statement, eyes honest and big and full of an emotion Jungkook didn’t know to describe. He often heard from fans how much BTS’s music meant to them. The idolt couldn’t help but appreciate their fans more each time he heard it. Seeing Taehyung’s eyes reflecting a look he saw each day in the mirror made him understand that their music was more than just songs to the fan.

Jungkook noticed one of the staff members out of the corner of his eyes motioning the line to move forward but he ignored them and kept his gaze on the other. Jungkook added another sentence to Taehyung’s album. “Taehyung-“

“Hyung.” The other interrupted with a cheeky raise of his brow. They were dark and bushy, fitting the males face nicely. His veiny hands were hidden under the table and Jungkook leaned forward again, motioning for the other to lean in as well before whispering in Taehyung’s ear.

“Tae-Hyung, can I see your face?”

Taehyung looked at Jungkook with surprised eyes. Their faces were close and Jungkook could hear Taehyung’s breath through the face mask. Maybe calling the other by a nickname was too much but Jungkook didn’t regret blurting it out. It sounded natural on his tongue, the others name. Suddenly one hand appeared and tugged down the black material, revealing a rectangular and slightly bashful smile.

Jungkook eyes widened and he breathed out a tiny, “Wow.”

Taehyung’s cheeks grew tinted and he laughed, standing up to move on. The male’s beauty caught the idol off guard and he couldn’t help his surprised reaction. Jungkook often met fans who were ashamed of their own appearance and hid their faces away from the members at fansigns. He always tried to make those fans as comfortable as he could and to not to be frightened to show their appearance to him. Often their shyness was for nothing: their fans were perfect as they were. But he had never seen a fan with the face of a model, or even an idol himself.

Jungkook grabbed the others hand and pushed the album into the male's grip. “Thank you, Tae-Hyung. I hope I see you again.” He squeezed the others hand, lacing their fingers. The male made him surprisingly comfortable and he spoke to him in ease. “Maybe next time without the face mask.”

Taehyung grinned with bright eyes and squeezed back before letting go and waving. Jungkook’s hand suddenly felt weird without Taehyung’s hand in his grip.

“No Jungkookie, Thank you.”

Jimin leaned into Jungkook’s side once Taehyung left with a curious gaze, “You’ve been talking to him more than 5 minutes. Everything ok?”

Jungkook could only stare at the retreating male figure and think that the “Thank you” Taehyung meant was more than just for the signing. He looked back at his older bandmate and grinned. “Never better.”

#I purple you not #taekook social media au #My writing #( ;my writing)#bts au #bts fanfic #fanfiction

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pistolkilled · 6 years

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[ Maybe I’ll. try to write down a list of things that happened in chronological order. It probably won’t have any set dates, or if it does it won’t be for every event, but maybe I can get some things down. ]

(I’m gonna start with what happened in w/k/m)

So that shit happens, the Colonel has his breakdown, and Wilford - enraged with the entire premise that the party was built on and near-delirious from losing half his damn family in one night - probably blows up on Will. Yes, Mark had his huge hand in it, but this wouldn’t have happened if Will didn’t have his hand in it with Celine, and the fact that Will’s son came of that whole tryst, and this, and that, it’s easily a berating that lasts for over an hour.

Obviously they can’t stay at the manor anymore. Wilford collects his very young nephew and Will and packs them both off to a hotel for them to stay at and try to regroup. There’s probably some more unbridled rage on Wilford’s part, and he ends up leaving for the night - leaves Will alone with his son and his thoughts.

Will’s not certain where Wilford goes off to, but he comes back late into the night, disheveled and splattered with blood and dirt, and it’s unclear as to just who the blood belongs to. He looks tired; broken. (What happens is that he gets into a fight and, in his already poor state, things get out of hand. More than likely, he ends up with a genuine, accidental murder on his hands - the first he’s ever committed.)

They spend the rest of the night in silence. Wilford cleans himself up, they tend to a small Red who’s fussy and unable to settle down for sleep.

From then on, they start city-hopping.

While Wilford takes care of his broken brother and nephew, they tend to move from place to place quite a bit. Both to avoid any possible trouble that might come from the events that happened at the manor and the accidental murder that Wilford committed on his own. They’re effectively on the run for at least 5 years with a slew of fake identification papers and aliases and this and that.

Effectively cut off from the rest of their family. Mark is MIA, presumed dead, Doc has dropped off the face of the planet himself, and it’s too risky for them to be with their parents, both law-wise and for the fact that they’re clearly not aging anymore, at some point.

Will is... a lot of work. While Wilford tries to maintain the various odd jobs he takes up for them, he’s also trying to keep his brother together and safe. Will talks a lot about Celine and Damien like nothing happened - like they’re still presently in their lives. He sits around for hours talking to Red about his mother and his uncle, and how they’re going to have to visit them sometime, things of that nature. On top of that, Will tends to wander. Sometimes on his own, sometimes with Red. Never anywhere dangerous, but if he does, he almost never tells Wilford where he’s going or when he’s coming back. It stresses him out endlessly.

There’s at least one time, despite how far away they may be, that Will scoops Red up and they just leave, eventually ending up back at the manor.

It’s probably another 10 years still, around the time of WW2, before Will finally starts to stabilize and fall back into something like himself again. They settle down in some city and try to start a more steady life for their now three-year-old kiddo.

Wilford’s skeptical of his brother voluntarily joining the war effort (even amidst the draft), especially given what WW1 had done to him when he’d been of sound mind, but ultimately he doesn’t/can’t stop him.

It’s around this time that Wilford juggles college (for a business degree) and his various odd jobs, as well as trying to care for Red. Red gets stuck with babysitters or in a daycare frequently, but Wilford tries to be there for the toddler as much as he can. He feels bad enough as it is dumping him off on a stranger, and it’s important for him to know that his entire family hasn’t abandoned him.

To add to the stress, this is about when Red starts having his nightmares about the manor and all that funky stuff that Wilford has 0 idea how to deal with.

Will makes it back from the war in one piece, and they settle down again to try and find some semblance of normalcy in their lives. It’s probably around now that they resume their identities.

(I’m thinking that they might’ve had some strings to pull with having a friend in government, so maybe at some point they had themselves declared legally dead, and at some point again they can have birth certificates, etc., forged again that allow them to use their normal names. I’m not 100% on how that shit works, but I do know that the court is fully capable of erasing people from records entirely if you know the right people. My mom exists nowhere bc of something like this.)

By now, Wilford’s done with school and in the process of opening up a candy shop that he owns for a very long time. It’s only when they decide it’s time to pick up and move again that he decides to sell it.

Will takes up odd-jobs here and there to keep up support while Wilford tries to get his thing going. He’s dabbled in a little bit of everything.

It’s after Wilford sells his shop for a small mint that they start to travel more here and there, both to satiate Will’s wanderlust and just to get out there and see the world while they can.

Will does go on solo excavation trips every now and again. He’s something more akin to an archaeologist for years and years.

Wilf probably decides to open a bakery at some point, still feeling like candy and treats are his true calling.

Wilford’s mental health is probably starting to decline. Every time Will comes back from one of his trips, Wilf’s... different. He’s a lot more forgetful, he starts to talk about things that happened years ago as if they only just happened yesterday, or haven’t happened yet. They get a letter from Doc at some point, and it’s a good few minutes before Wilford even remembers who exactly Doc is. He’s forgotten who Red himself was at least once.

Despite it not having been so pertinent in the beginning, Wilford was just as traumatized by the events of w/k/m as Will was, if not more so. His main problem is that his trauma was just left to fester as he took care of everybody else, and he’s got nothing but years and years of pent up rage and unresolved grief, and not just from the Event.

Eventually, it gets bad enough that Wilford lets one of his more trusted employees take over his bakery and checks himself into a mental hospital in hopes of trying to get better for his family, despite Will’s insistence that he doesn’t. He’s not so far gone just yet, but it’s bad enough that he knows he’s a burden, and he doesn’t want that for them.

It’s been a couple years since Will stopped his archaeology, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving his vulnerable brother and son alone for such long periods of time. It’s probably around now that he finds himself working in a zoo, eventually working his way up from a position low on the ladder to an actual zookeeper.

Despite Wilford’s absence from their lives, things seem to be moving along... normally. (Ignoring the fact that he and Will don’t age, and that Red ages very slowly. Ignoring the apparent supernatural elements of their existence.) For the first time in a very, very long time.

I think it’s around the 1970s that the exposes on how poorly patients in mental hospitals were treated. Wilford had probably been in the care of one for closer to a year by the time these stories air.

Will, sick to his stomach, manages to break his brother out of the hospital he’d checked into. (I don’t have an exact story on how that happened, but it did.) It’s clear that Wilford hadn’t had a very nice time of things in there, and try as he might, Will can’t seem to get a story out of his brother.

It’s likely that Will uses all of his accrued vacation time at once to stay home with Wilford for as long as it’ll allow him. Rather than opting to have someone take care of his brother - still skeptical after the asylum issue - he tries to take this on himself.

Wilford’s functional, but Will’s still worried about him. He tries to look after his brother without making it seem like he’s taking on the patronizing role of a parent.

Because Wilford still technically owns the store, part of their income does come in from his bakery.

Wilford finds more and more as time goes on that, even though these memories are more than likely repressed by now, he finds himself increasingly passionate about the state of mental hospitals as they are then.

It’s this passion that ultimately gets Wilford into the field of journalism, mostly in hopes of truly bringing these depraved institutions into light and getting these poor people the help they actually need - and possibly bringing these employees that had been treating them so poorly to justice. He wants to do good with his journalism.

This is the career he sticks with until present day, although his fields within the field of journalism do tend to change.

Despite this, his mental state is still on the decline. Instead of talking happily about things that happened in the past as if they were present, there are lots and lots of things he genuinely doesn’t remember, and it’s apparent that the things he does remember are fading as time goes on. Will does his best to make sure that he remembers the people who matter, him and Red and Doc, though it’s a lot harder for Wilford to hold onto people he doesn’t see regularly. Will and Red are faces he’ll never forget because they’re around him so constantly. A fair chunk of their childhood is gone, their teen years, their parents and Mark. The events of w/k/m have all but been stricken from his mind, along with the memories of Celine and Damien. His personality is a little more loose and eccentric, even for someone like him who’d always been a little on the strange side, his morals seem to be a little less strict, but on the whole he’s still a functional person and a capable, reputable journalist.

They start to pick back up on their travelling again, working around Red’s school schedule and making good use of Will’s flexible work schedule. (Having been there for so long, he has a little more leeway.)

Will starts to take lots and lots of pictures, mostly for the benefit of Wilford’s poor memory. Eventually Wilford finds interest in this subject and takes up the picture-taking himself, both for what Will says is for the sake of his memory and for work. More than a couple of their abroad trips have been for various stories/interviews Wilford wants to run for his career.

It’s during this time that they probably move one final time, into the house that they live in currently with the rest of the family.

Will says goodbye to his job as a zookeeper and, in the pursuit of finding something else to satiate his wanderlust and satisfying an old interest of his, starts bottom rung in the train conductor field.

Wilford takes up his job as an investigative journalist, though short-lived due to his... unique way of conducting these interviews (see his reports/videos on Slenderman - his first and last endeavors in this field). His mental state is more akin to what you see in canon and on this blog. A general state of manic at all times.

It’s around now that they start falling into the routine that you generally see played out on this blog. Will eventually falls into becoming a stay at home parent, and Wilford runs his own talkshow with an online business or two on the side, rather than investigative reports.

While not mentioned above, it can be assumed that Wilford’s initial accidental murder was his first, but not his last. While not a frequent thing, it did still happen.

Will plays an integral part in not only hiding bodies, but covering up his brother’s involvement entirely in these murders.

This generally coincides with how much they move around before they get to their current house.

Will doesn’t remember a thing for the next 15 years after w/k/m. He has little to no knowledge of the specifics of his breakdown and things that coincided with those years, and since Wilford’s memory is shot and Red was so young, it’s a time period that’s all but lost to history, save for a few shoddy memories on Red’s part.

There are seemingly random events in time that Wilford does remember. There’s no rhyme or reason as to why these stuck with him, but they did, and he still remembers.

At some point, Wilford probably tried to start up his own circus with Will’s begrudging help. But it was around the time that circuses were falling out of popular entertainment, and it didn’t last for very long.

The mental hospital definitely had lasting effects on Wilford as a whole, those it’s unclear as to what specifically came from the hospital and what showed up as a result of his already deteriorating mind.

At some point in time, probably some short time after WW2, they did go and visit their parents again, if only to let them meet their slightly older grandson and find out how they were doing.

After this, they do keep up writing letters with their parents for a while, but eventually - with all the moving around on both parts - things get lost in the mail and correspondence stops. The three of them don’t get a chance to say goodbye to their parents/grandparents.

Eventually, since they’re out of contact for so long even before Wilford starts to lose himself, Wilford does genuinely forget that both Doc and Mark exist. It doesn’t take long for him to rebuild a relationship with Doc once he enters the picture again (he remembers most of who he is), but it’s not an instant process.

I’m not sure when they find out that Mark’s still alive and kicking, but Will finds out first, and he definitely keeps that knowledge from Wilford for as long as he can, given that he was one of the direct catalysts for all the shit that’s happened. He doesn’t want to risk Wilford remembering the past and really losing his shit, and part of him feels (felt) like Mark doesn’t deserve the chance to reintegrate himself into the family.

While it wasn’t all readily apparent at first, Wilford’s mind didn’t deteriorate all at once. It started with little things that wouldn’t be missed because they didn’t talk about it anyway. Such as Doc and his disappearance, their childhood, their parents. That stuff slowly started to fade away first, but if Wilford doesn’t notice it himself and he doesn’t make it obvious, then no one knows it’s happening.

The Big traumatic events in Wilford’s life are not of the few things he remembers. They’re the reason he is the way he is.

Will worked as an assistant teacher/teacher’s aid in Red’s school for a very, very short amount of time at some point. He had a particularly fond bond with that teacher who’d been happy to let him come in and help out. It was a way to occupy his time and spend a little more time with his kid.

Somewhere more recently, though not too recent, Will had also taken up the hobby of beekeeping (he’s got a real, real fondness of bees). It didn’t last long, much to his dismay.

Wilford has journals upon journals chronicling important events in his life that he’s determined not to forget. They’re in trunks in the attic, although under a specific lock and key that Wilford only has access to.

While Wilford has had numerous trysts and flings throughout the years, Will may have only had one or two other vague interests before Tori and after Celine. He was in no state of mind to deal with a relationship, and he couldn’t bring himself to put Red into any awkward situation that that might bring along.

Will’s artifact collection is so vast because 90% of them were taken illegally from the dig sites. Go figure.

While not mentioned, Dark has always been a constant in Wilford’s life somehow or another. He’s always been as familiar to him as Red and Will have, even if they haven’t been dating the entire time.

Another short-lived endeavor of both Will and Wilford’s was owning/running a drive-in theater together. Will generally manned projection and the technical aspects and Wilford dealt with the public aspect.

Mechanic may have also been among Will’s odd jobs at some point.

#this isn't.... a step by step comprehensive timeline #with every single event detailed #just the important things *and* the things I know/imagine off the top of my head #but it's Long #long post //#PLEASE STAND BY || ooc #INSIDE SCOOP || hcs #;;TIMELINE

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pernatius · 3 years

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Lost in Space Part 10: Ch 3

Summary: Significant changes have occurred while she was unconscious. One of them includes the imprisonment of Syco. Part 10 deals with the unnamed Space Explorer’s reconciliation.

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Lost in Space on ao3

"Commander."

"Commander," I mouthed, taking a moment to realize what was said until breaking away from her and turning. I expected Syco to be near. The three saluting are Tauvoxes, one I'm familiar with, but Syco is nowhere to be found. In the middle is the second-in-command who flinches when Saamuki notices his presence.

He stutters a bit before regaining his composure and continuing, "Commander Saamuki."

I turn to her, but her eyes are directed at the Tauvox. Saamuki is the leader of the Tauvoxes? When did that happen? How long was I out? Saamuki has proven she does have leadership qualities, but it's just weird how this small, gentle serpent now leads possibly the most barbaric species in the known Universe. Well, she's not so pacific as of recently.

She straightens herself and places her hands behind her back with her chest puffed out. Her eyes flick to blue. The three Tauvoxes before us, especially the one who's now her second-in-command, are much taller than either of us, yet here she was managing to look down on them. "Lieutenant, I thought I explicitly commanded that my friend be watched until she woke up and when she did I was to be notified."

"I apologize, Commander Saamuki." His second salute is followed by the two Tauvoxes who are awkwardly standing on either side of him, scrambling to do the same.

"You're apologizing to me, lieutenant? I believe she's the one you should be apologizing to. Not only was she about to open an airlock but you encouraged Syco, which led us to this situation in the first place." The lieutenant's grimace turns to me. I prepare for a fight as I whip my right arm to the side. My sword manifests in my right hand, and I motion for my body to move towards him, but when Saamuki places a hand in front of me before I can even take the first step, I halt and look at her again. She's barely glowing. The lights above make it hard to see that blue glow, but I can feel its heat. "Do you want me to repeat what I said, or would you rather repeat what I did?"

His face relaxed. He sighs, "No, I apologize for everything."

"Good, now is there a reason you left your post?"

“Yes, Commander Saamuki. We just received a transmission and I think it's worth accepting. It's from one of your comrades aboard Commander Knox's ship."

During our run, the other Tauvoxes saluted Saamuki, pausing from their duties to show their respects, but I saw no signs of Syco, so I looked at Saamuki as her words haunted me. Did she kill Syco? He wanted to kill me. I felt where his horn pierced through me, where the hole should be, as we continued running. I have no scar from it besides my torn clothing and the mental fault; a flash of the event hit me, but I don't think we can afford to decrease our numbers. We need as many people if we're going to survive this even if it means working with Syco.

The deck's door slid upwards. "Accept it," Saamuki ordered as soon as we stepped inside to the Tauvoxes down below who are typing away.

Skeema appeared. Just like how the last I heard of him hinted, he's wounded. His left arm has been completely ripped off of his body, so he can't reform a new one. One of his eyes is swollen, and he appears to have been shot through his left leg. He's covered in cuts, nothing too brutal there. I don't think he's lost too much blood, but with how he's looking, he still went through some hell. He brushes away the sweat from his forehead and smirks when he notices Saamuki and me. "It's good to see you two again, especially you, Saamuki. You're away from Cabelo for once," he coughed out.

He's in that state because of me. No, I know better than to begin my self-hatred in moments like this. This is bigger than me. Focus. Assess the situation at hand.

"Thank goodness you're alright. You are alright, right?"

He spits out some blood before responding with, "I'm not anywhere close to dying if that's what you mean."

Saamuki looks around him before questioning, "Where are the others? Please, tell me they're alright?"

"Mikrovos is fine and so is Ashley."

The two of us let out a sigh of relief.

"But I didn't risk my life to contact you two just to drop in and report that none of us are dead." He looks at me, "As I said with you, Knox is planning something big. Knox wants to absorb everyone's souls, those that have nanites."

"He wants to make himself a Watcher, or a version of it," I concluded.

"Yes, he believes he's the only way to defeat the Lords of the Universe."

Saamuki steps forward, pushing past the Tauvoxes ahead of us. "What? How is that even possible?"

The lieutenant, who has his arms crossed over his chest, huffs, which Saamuki ignores.

"It sounds impossible, I know, but do you know how the nanites connect with the brain?"

"Yes."

No.

"Well, those tiny things scan the entirety of your brain. It's how they can advance the body and heal the organic parts as it learns which string, so to speak, to pull. Unfortunately, I don't have such a luxury.

"The nanites are so thorough that they scan the quarks in your brain."

"I'm guessing the quarks in the brain are what we define as a soul."

"Correct, as always, Saamuki. My younger self, years before we met, knew about this. I interrogated Knox about it when I was his commander as soon as I put the pieces together. It's why I didn't remember my past for some time. That bastard not only erased my memories but pinned my people against me as well. But this is all my fault because I was the one that instigated these endeavors of his." He slammed his fist on his intercom. "Damn me."

I cut back into the conversation, "Skeema, I know better than anyone that bullying yourself won't do anything but distract you from the real issue. How long do we have until Knox becomes his own Watcher?"

"He's injected nanites into all the soldiers and pirates we've beaten." Knox's ship shakes; something has hit the spaceship. Skeema almost falls over. Luckily he has a good grip on the intercom before him. "He wants a billion souls. After he defeats the Space Pirates blasting us right now and the planet we're heading to next, he will accomplish this. A little over a billion, though, after the planet. We have half a day at the most."

Saamuki's second-in-command breaks out of his aloof state because of this dire news. The weight of the matter finally hits him.

"A billion souls? That has to be a deathwish, right? Not even real Watchers have more than twenty souls. The Lord I just talked with only had a couple thousand at best." Saamuki steals a quick glance from me. "I'll explain later," I told her.

Skeema continues, "Maybe the nanites won't cause him to explode, but if I read the right file, which I'm sure I did, then that many souls will overload him. Unless…" He rubs his chin. "He must have a different set of nanites, a better version. Of course his nanites would be different. Why didn't I see that before?"

"Skeema."

"Yes, Saamuki."

"You said something about a file. Can you send it to us?" A moment later, of him typing, and the ship received the file, which one of the Tauvoxes below confirmed. "Thank you, Skeema, but considering you're not under Knox's control—"

Skeema interrupts her with, "Knox placed a firewall even I can't crack, so I can't help the others. Even if I could it would take too long to deactivate a substantial number of nanites, but I'm also not here to just relay bad news. I have some good news too. I believe I've cracked half of the firewall." He sends information about this too and then looks directly at me for the second time. "After the last time we spoke, I have reason to believe you hold a code somewhere in your chip thanks to your nanites that can override the firewall and deactivate all of the nanites instantaneously."

"Considering Syco's background, why in the Universe would Knox create such a catastrophic hole in his plan," Saamuki asked Skeema.

"That's because he didn't. Knox isn't the only brain behind this. Before becoming infamous, Apulsion, Syco's predecessor, thought of this exact same plan. At the time, Apulsion knew the chances of survival would be slim because technology hadn't advanced enough. So, he wrote a fail-safe."

Mikrovos is right. The Commander did some good things when he was alive, but mainly awful things. It's technically his fault we're even having this issue.

"Got it. Get the code. Deactivate the nanites."

On his side, metal being banged can be heard, which Skeema turns towards. "Damn it. He found me." Skeema reforms his only hand left into a blade. A figure bolts towards him before the transmission ends. As quick as the figure moved, I caught a good enough glimpse to know who that was.

"S1Y is alive." I could cry because of the relief this brought me, but I was more concerned about Skeema, which Saamuki is too, of course.

"Skeema? Skeema!"

Five minutes have passed since Skeema's transmission abruptly ended. Commander Saamuki has her screen floating in front of her. Currently, she's pacing back and forth while scrolling through the code of my nanites.

Saamuki's second-in-command walks up behind her. Before the lieutenant can interrupt her, he salutes, and when he's about to open his mouth to speak, he is interrupted by her. "Have we gotten in contact with Sakhra yet?"

"Unfortunately not, Commander Saamuki." That was the first time I've seen the lieutenant genuine.

"Keep trying. We have to find him before it's too late."

He salutes before leaving the two of us. We're not alone as he rejoins the other Tauvoxes below, but he's far enough to make me feel awkward. Even him staying would make me feel less self-conscious. The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I'm afraid to ask because what's happening right now is something much more important than my vendetta. Staying here is the more sensible option as I might be needed, even though I'm not an expert in either code or Sakhra. My cognitive dissonance must've been clearly written over my face because Saamuki breaks me out of my thoughts when she calls me. Her face is greener than usual, thanks to her screen. Much of it is blocked by all the numbers, letters, and symbols, but I can see the understanding in her still blue eyes.

"Cabelo is similar to me as he too is an orphan. The first war took away his family as well," she laughs, "Cabelo thought opening that hotel would help people like him. He wasn't wrong because in all honesty it did help me, but I know it did more harm than good to me. Now that I realize this I wish I could've talked with him about what he did to me and what he's been doing to many others instead of nearly killing him. So, that's why I'm telling you he's on the third level. I'm sure you know where he is now, but I hate that you do."

Words can't erase what was done, but time can. So, I stuff the pain away and thank her before I leave.

The hallway is long, too long. All but one of those dark cells is empty. That one, to my surprise, already has someone talking to the person of interest inside. I can't hear what Shiitakee is telling Syco, but I have a feeling it's really personal, so I take my time walking towards the two to give them more time to talk it out. My hand slides across the bars. They're cold, unsurprisingly they are, but they create music with my touch. It's not worthwhile music, but it's still powerful nonetheless. It makes me feel heartfelt because I'm not the one on the other side of those bars this time. I'm no longer a prisoner to others.

My anthropomorphic mushroom friend removes his eyes from Syco and places them onto me. He smiles through his cigarette. It's soft. It's the same understanding look Saamuki gave to me. I guess I was too loud. Whoops, but with that look, at least I didn't interrupt them in the middle of their conversation. It appears I made it just in time, right after their conversation ended.

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd come." I take a good look at him. He's all healed up. Thankfully he is, but his nanites had a whole day to repair him because apparently, I was unconscious for an entire day. "Oh, yeah. I've been fully healed for the past twenty two hours." An awkward silence hits us until he realizes we've been staring at each other for too long. Shiitakkee excuses himself, and before he's out of earshot, he reveals I won't be alone with Syco because he'll be waiting down the hall just in case.

I turn to Syco, who has a shadow looming over him as his back is against the wall facing across from me, head lowered, and has shackles locked on his wrists. My fists are shaking as I grit my teeth and furrow my eyebrows. "You're a bastard, Syco."

#226 #lost in space #my writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr

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ganocompagnon · 4 years

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Kitchen Questions

It’s been fun reading through all of your questions about our kitchen! The majority of questions I received were about our counters, our range, white cabinets with four kids and the chairs in the coffee bar area.

As I mentioned before we had marble counters in our last house because I had to have them. It was one of those things that people warned me against and I just put on deaf ears because I loved them so much. And you know what? I don’t regret doing them because now I know what they are like. It’s sort of like buying clothes that are dry clean only. Your clothes will always look gorgeous if you upkeep them but it comes at a cost. I hated the constant staining (even from water glasses!) and in this kitchen we decided to go for a much more practical option, a quartz that looks like marble. Best. Decision. Ever.

We have had them since last January and after having them for 10 months I cannot sing their praises any higher. There is ZERO maintenance. I can use vinegar and water, Comet or 409 on them. It is amazing with all of us daily making messes all over them! I have never had problems with heat on them (someone mentioned someone having trouble using an InstaPot on them). We regularly have our pressure cooker, coffee maker, Cuisinart Griddler and crock pot on it with no problem… hot grease kept coming out of the griddler the other day before I realized that I’d forgotten to slip in the grease catcher and the counter is totally fine.

We opted for the thicker counter with a double ogee edge. I think it looks classy while still looking relatively simple. If you want to do this ask your counter fabricator to only make it thicker for 4 inches in around the perimeter so that you don’t have to pay for it to be double thick all around the inside.

The simple answer is that we have five heat zones in the house which was a HUGE selling point to us coming from our last house with one heat zone. We have triple the amount of space in this house but a heat bill that isn’t exorbitantly higher than our last house because we are able to heat only the area of the house we are in… and the kitchen area is a different heat zone than the dining room and office are on (and the French door would be going into the dining room). It isn’t very often we keep that zone on during the week continuously at a higher temp. We’d love the dining room and kitchen area to open up to each other though because one, windows inside a house are one of my biggest pet peeves and two, just last weekend we had 20 people over and it would have been perfect to have French doors here so all the kids could be better connected to the adults. As it is now we walk through the kitchen into the hallway then into the dining room or through the living room (to the left of this photo). Is it the end of the world to have no direct entry into the dining room? Not at all. But if we are looking for ways to make our house function at 100% and to utilize the space we have best we want to maximize comfortably the amount of people we can have over and still have it be practical for our day to day lives.

We’ve had these chairs for a few years now and LOVE them… that being said you’ll probably see new ones in here sooner than later because we foolishly didn’t Scotchguard them when putting them where kids have food (they were totally safe in the living room and office before this

). They are an amazing bang for your buck. When you sit on them for the first time they feel hard but after about two weeks the seat cushion breaks in to a normal comfiness and hasn’t become wimpy in the amount of time we’ve had them. You can sit in it for hours… it’s not just for decoration.

There is one chair with a little tear in the fabric where a seam was pulling apart a tiny bit from wear and one of the kids pulled it apart. That is the only spot of poorly made-ness I’ve seen on all the chairs.

Keep in mind when you are purchasing them you are buying a $250ish chair… not a $2000 one. It may not last you 20 years but if we had put Scotchguard on these I could see them lasting 8-10 years no problem. They are light enough weight that I can easily move them from room to room and the only assembly you need to do is screw the chair legs on to the chair, it will literally take you under 5 minutes and you don’t need a single tool.

Verdict: amazing chair and I would totally recommend them. I’m sitting in one right now cuddled up in a blanket.

Let me preface this by saying they are definitely not as clean as they were when they were installed. BUT keep in mind they are probably cleaner than they would be if they were darker wood, because I see the drips sooner which reminds me to clean it. We clean them with 409 or something like it or more often with just baby wipes. It’s a chore I can give to Drew and Elle that they can mostly handle! I think for the most part I just need to go over everything with a Magic Eraser. The trickiest part is just getting into the trim work around the shaker inset and probably just need to devote time to do that with a toothbrush but I have better things to do pretty much every single day.

I really like the range. It’s a convection range so everything cooks a lot faster (my cookies take 10 minutes instead of 13 in a traditional oven). I’ve never cooked on gas before this range and it’s incredible how easy it is to burn things (I’m was used to everything cooking slowly and evenly on an electric top!) but for the most part I’ve become accustomed to it.

The larger side of the oven is amazing. I can fit two large roasting pans next to each other with only a slight overlap. The smaller side of the oven is incredibly small. My little pan that came with my toaster oven fits perfectly in it. It’s good if I need to do something small but for the most part it’s too small for our family of six unless I’m cooking in the one small cookie sheet or this LeCruset dish which is the perfect size for it.

Verdict on if it is worth the money: Hard to say because we’ve had it less than a year and am not sure about maintenance yet but looks wise and how it works thus far it’s been a good investment for us. Would I do it again in another kitchen? My dream would be a 60 inch range to have to 30 inch ovens or to have another 48 inch and a wall oven but only because I want more functional space in the oven, not because the range has been poorly functioning.

Yes, I think so… and we purchased the extra protection plan because we wanted assurance it would last at the price we paid. We decided to do a mid to high-ish end remodel because of what we hope to have the price be when we sell but we also wanted to make decisions that we liked and worked for our family in case we decided this was our forever house. It’s rare that I have the fridge bursting at the seams because I generally grocery shop 2-3 times a week. My biggest pet peeve with the unit is that it’s hard to get a frozen pizza box in the freezer except for the top shelf, everything else works beautifully.

Sources Tile and Counters: North Shore Marble & Granite (backsplash tile was gifted)

Range: ILVE (given to us at cost)

Cabinets: Building Supply Outlet, Peabody, MA

Dish Towel: Home Goods (similar here and here and the exact one here in red)

Tea Pot and Serving Board: Home Goods (exact one here and similar here in color)

Champagne Bucket: Pottery Barn (similar here)

Glass Pumpkin: Marshalls (similar here or here)

Serving Tray on Range: Mariposa (gifted)

Flowers: Alice’s Table, Magnolia Blooms

Faucets: Single Faucet: Amazon but it’s now out of stock (it was under $50 I think!) but here is a similar one

Bridge Faucet: Amazon

Chandelier: Amazon (similar here)

Hardwood Floors: NTP Hardwood

Rug in coffee bar area: Amazon

Chairs in coffee bar area: Wayfair

If I missed any questions please feel free to shoot me an email at [email protected].

The post Kitchen Questions appeared first on Migonis Home.

Kitchen Questions published first on https://unscratch.blogspot.com/

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t65jenny-blog · 4 years

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Rotate an image with the very simple best photo editor for beginners

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#best photo editor for beginners

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eduardocpqn046-blog · 4 years

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Photo editing software to edit photos for Windows 10

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Photo editing software has ended up being quite complicated and helpful and it is usually possible to adjust photograph so they end up being entirely various from the original. There certainly are definitely lots of photo editing software as well as multitudes of techniques of having the exact same or very much the same final results.

The intention very most when it comes to a lot of photos I upload procedure is actually to make them seem as all-natural as feasible. I believe this is an optimal spot to begin, even in case you intend to continue on and create much more surreal appearing pictures.

Tone variation on a photo shot is one of the main worries. The human eyes are able to typically see a broader variety of tone than the electronic camera can shot.

The significance of image editing is the process of altering a picture, simply put. But that is oversimplifying a theme that is really intricate. You can generally carry out easy photo editing strategies like edit pics rather conveniently and also rapidly however complicated techniques and also digital editing and enhancing may call for photo editing software as well as more knowledge. Photo editing software is a gadget that anyone can easily use to manipulate as well as improve images. Since images contain a boosting variety of uses, even more firms are finding techniques to reuse images as well as work with them on many networks.

#photo editing software for windows 10

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ihifizat-blog · 4 years

Text

Photo editing software for Windows 10

Download this photo editing software for Windows 10 for fast and intelligent colorize pictures

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This photo editing software for Windows 10 is better for anxious students along with a bunch of opportunity in their hands to figure out the as well technological features that would certainly frighten 1st opportunity photograph changing consumers. It also happen equipped with a 360 scenery program. Likely the shiniest treasure in the plan would certainly be actually the wonderful skin effect, which evens out as well as eliminates colored spots out the skin tone.

Whereas there's no self-regulating shade repair option very needed to repair work the poor lighting up very most digital cameras catch, there are actually the typical components of insert objects into another photo.

Among the most well-known misunderstood parts of electronic photography is what takes place once you make the photo in fact editing your pictures. We will cover some ideas for modifying your photos, from the essentials like scaling photos or change the size of an image, with much more complex functions. The cut out item enables you to transform the dimension of your picture, as well as also to alter the element ratio. You can crop a photo from a rectangular shape to a square form. There are numerous reasons you would certainly want to cut out, including for posting in different layouts and facet relations. Contrasted to the original, I have actually chopped the photo with photo editing software for Windows 10 to remove the dark part of the left-hand side of the image as well as reassembled using the guideline of quarters. This makes the coloring screw much more the focus of the shot. You may ask yourself why I did not simply compose appropriately when making the image. Well, in this instance, I was actually performing a long exposure photo shooting without needing a tripod, so had actually the electronic camera balanced on the edge of the jetty for security. That significantly restricted my capacity to perfectly frame the minute, so I simply shot larger, understanding I had the ability to chop the photo shot properly shortly after the truth. In the two instances, cropping is really basic and also it is just includes you selecting the cut out tool and after that picking the location you want to maintain with your mouse. You apply the adjustments and also your new cropped photo is ready to go.

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This level tool becomes part of the crop method, and you can simply rotate the image to suit. The grid will certainly appear to help you acquire the positioning appropriate when you use the photo editing software. Leveling a photo is a really basic job in which will certainly take just a couple of moments, leading to a lot more aesthetically hitting the spot photo. From time to time when we make a picture, components of the picture can finish up being normally gloomier than we really want. I describe the dark spots of the photo as darkness, and the colorful spots of the picture as high light.

Compare is about emphasizing the distinction between the light as well as dark areas of the picture. Raising the variance of a picture can significantly improve the graphical impact in which had, by creating the borders between these dark as well as light parts clearer. Color scheme adjusting is yet another vital piece related to the photo editing software. We are able to readjust photograph color or texture in all type of methods, from changing the whole heat of the image such as exactly how red or green it appears, to individually transforming the tone and also saturation of certain colorations within a photo.

We simply wish to deal with a few extremely helpful color scheme corrections anyone may utilize to create your pictures simply a little more creatively amazing. The fastest means in order to change the different colors related to an image is definitely with the color tone technique from the photo editing software for Windows 10. That changes the look related to every shade in an image to make it essentially condensed.

As with several modify, the trick is to find a really good harmony excessive coloring the pictures often tends to look instead unusual. Saturating images can be actually pretty useful, as well as certainly dark and also bright white is a great option for all type of situations, in certain, architecture, as well as certain surroundings images.

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That is normally due to the fact that the photo editing software for Windows 10 needs to remove and replace the sector you want to erase together with something besides, and also that runs most effective whenever it has a spot near that seems much the same.

Photo editing software for Windows 10 has come to be very complex as well as highly effective and it is usually possible to control pictures so they end up being totally different from the original. There certainly are lots of photo editing software as well as plenty of means of creating the exact or similar effects.

The intention most for many images I post process is generally to produce them appear as all-natural as possible. I believe this is an excellent point to start off, also if you intend to go on as well as develop even more unique looking images. Tone variety inside an image is among the key issues. Your eyes are able to usually see a wider range of tone than the video camera can shot. The significance of image modifying is the process of altering a photograph, put simply. But that is oversimplifying an issue which is more or less complicated. You can typically perform basic image editing and enhancing strategies just like softening photos relatively easily and quickly yet intricate strategies and also electronic modifying might call for photo editing software and also more practice.

Photo editing software for Windows 10 is a gadget which anyone can use to manipulate and boost images. Because images photo editing software for Windows 10 have an enhancing variety of uses, numerous companies are experiencing means to reuse images and use them on a few different media. More info about cut photos and scaling photo with the photo editing software for Windows 10 download or easy photo editing software for PC with many essential settings to powerful enhance a picture. Photo editing software for amateurs or edit a photo software to resize images and merge photos. Get this photo editing software for Windows 10 for fast and smart rotate a picture.

#photo editing software for windows 10 download

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annabellex90-blog · 4 years

Text

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This photo editor is actually well for ecstatic pupils along with a large amount of attend their manpower to determine the as well technological functionalities that would certainly scare incredibly first opportunity picture editing customers. It furthermore come got ready with a three-sixty scenic view plan. Possibly the gleaming treasure in the package would certainly be the gorgeous skin layer effect, which takes red patches as well as evens out your skin shade. Whereas there is actually no self-regulating shade fix possibility rather required to repair work the terrible illuminating very most electronic cameras squeeze, there are the regular functions of insert objects into another photo. Among the most well-known misunderstood components of electronic photography is what takes place once you made the photo as a matter of fact editing and enhancing your photos. That is the moment where you edit the photos you have actually taken, to create the final product. Modifying your photos is the matching of the dark chamber from the time long period of time ago. We are most likely to be covering some suggestions for editing and enhancing your pictures, from the fundamentals like texts in photo as well as cut photos, via much more complicated functions. The cropping item enables you to transform the dimension of your photo, as well as additionally to change the element ratio. You can crop a picture from a rectangular shape to a square form. There are several factors you would want to crop, consisting of for publishing in different layouts as well as facet ratios. Compared to the initial, I have cropped the photo with photo editor to remove the lightning component of the right-hand side of the photo shot and reassembled using the regulation of one-third. That makes the lightning screw more the focus of the shot. You could wonder why I did not just compose correctly when taking the shot. So in this situation, I was arranging a longish presence photo shot without a tripod, so had the electronic camera stabilized on the edge of the street for security. That really much minimal my capability to flawlessly mount the moment, so I just photoshoot wider, recognizing I had the ability to chop the picture properly soon after the truth. In the two instances, cropping is very basic as well as it is just involves you picking the crop tool and after that picking the location you wish to keep with your touchpad. After that you apply the modifications and your new cropped picture is ready to go. Different users are frequently make researches for the photo editor to crop pictures, but everybody has to know for themselves which is the photo editor free download. Learn here about brighten a photo with the photo editor for Windows 10 free download or great photo editor for Windows 10 for PC to very easy merge photos and convenient rotate a photo. Photo editor for comfortable batch processing or convenient cut a photo. Download here free this photo editor for fast and simple brighten pictures.

Photo editor for Windows 10 for photographers

Additional info to sharpen a photo with this photo editor download and brand-new photo editor for PC to convenient dynamic blending and practical invert photos. Colorize photos is powerful with the photo editor. Free download photo editor for professionals and edit a picture software to invert an image or create photo collages. Just one of my individual scratch aggravations in taking photos is when the horizon contour in a pic is uneven. Occasionally whenever we are caught up in the minute, this simple policy is forgotten yet the great news is such modifying your images with the photo editor for Windows 10 to make them degree is also extremely simple. Stabilizing the cam on the corner of the boat dock meant that the picture was not level this is particularly noticeable to the vision if the image has actually a clearly identified horizon line, like the lake. The leveling device is component part of the cropping device, as well as you can easily simply just revolve the photograph to match. A grid will appear to aid you get the positioning appropriate while you utilize the photo editor. Focusing a picture is a really simple job this will certainly get just a number of ticking, resulting in a far more visually wowing image. Often if we take a photo, parts of the shot could wind up being gloomier than we need. We refer to the less colored locations of the image as shadows, and also the brilliant parts of the photo as high light. Contrast is concerning emphasizing the difference between the lighting as well as dark components of the photo. Enhancing the comparison of a photo can drastically enhance the graphical influence in which had, by creating the limits in between those dark as well as light sections more clear. Coloring modification is an additional important item of the photo editor. We are able to adjust picture color in every type of ways, starting with changing the overall warmness of the image just like just how red and green it shows up, to independently altering the color and concentration of particular colorations within a picture. I only wish to go over some extremely simple shade corrections you are able to utilize to create your pictures nothing but a bit more aesthetically powerful. The simplest way to readjust the color of an image is using the shade gadget of the photo editor. This changes the appearance related to every single color or texture in a photograph to help make it much more or much less condensed. Similar to several modify, the secret is to choose a great harmony as well much coloring the images often tends to look instead not naturally made. Shading photography can be truly efficient, and also certainly dark as well as bright white is a great choice for all type of situations, specifically, portraits, and various garden views. Additional info to saturate images or write text in photos with the photo editor download and new photo editor for Windows 10 for Computer with a lot of awesome functions to easy improve images. Photo editor for Windows 10 and edit a picture software to improve pictures or color correction. Download the photo editor for Windows 10 for prompt and smart flip a picture.

Photo editor for Windows 10 download and edit photo software to sharpen a picture and clone stamp

Very easy photo editor for Windows 10 for Computer to sharpen a photo or professional photo color correction. Get more info about blur a picture is functional with the photo editor. Download free the photo editor for Windows 10 for quick and intelligent flip a picture. Sometimes there certainly may be a single thing within a photograph that you truly do definitely not intend to be certainly, there, just like an inconvenient pimple on someone else's nose. That is quick to erase in almost all the leading photo editor. It is really very easy to get rid of any kind of objects directly out of a picture however the photo editor operates ideal on distinctive, very small objects that are bordered by uniform colorings. This is due to the fact that the recover device has to replace the area you desire to remove with something else, and this functions finest when it has an area close by that looks similar. For instance, bright point on a face is bordered by a great deal of similarly colored skin, so the recover tool can conveniently calculate what to replace the pimple based on the bordering area. This is due to the fact that the photo editor has to replace the spot you will to get rid of along with another thing else, and that runs most effective whenever it has a section close that seems comparable. Photo editor has turned into quite intricate and also powerful and it is actually feasible to adjust images and so they change into absolutely different from the initial. There certainly are definitely dozens of photo editor and wide varieties of solutions of accomplishing the exact same or very much the same results. The intent very most for many pictures I post procedure is generally to produce them seem as all-natural as you possibly can. I believe this is a very good spot to begin, even if you intend to go on and also develop much more surreal seeming images. Hue variety inside an image is just one of the main worries. The human eyes have the ability to normally see a wider variety of coloration than your cam able to record. The definition of picture editing and enhancing is the act of changing an image, simply put. But this is simplifying a problem which is fairly problematic. You can generally implement simple image editing and enhancing strategies like insert texts in photos fairly conveniently and promptly but complex methods as well as digital editing and enhancing might need photo editor for Windows 10 and even more know-how. Photo editor for Windows 10 is a tool that you able to work with to control and enhance photos. Because pictures include a boosting number of usages, increased firms are looking for methods to reutilize images as well as work with them on many different networks. Additional resources about blur pictures with the photo editor download or brand new photo editor for Windows 10 for experts to comfortable saturate pictures. Photo editor or edit an image software to cut images or photographic effects. Free download photo editor for experts or editing photo software to cut an image and photo brightness.

#easy photo editor for windows 10

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travism72-blog · 4 years

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Useful photo editor for Windows 10 to cut photos and merging photos

Easy photo editor for Windows 10 for starters to professional rotate a picture

More info to enhance an image with the photo editor download and easy photo editor for Windows 10 for Computer to saturate a picture and software edit photo to write texts in photos for amateurs. Photo editor for Windows 10 for Computer and software edit photo to improve photos. Download photo editor for professionals and edit image software to brighten a photo and color mode.

It's tough to find a terrific smart device image what is shoot with a flash. All the time, they make an image appearance past tense, negatively altering shades as well as topics look washed out. Once they have actually shoot the photo, play with the exposure device in your favored photo editing and enhancing software to made the picture somewhat clearer. Photo editor carries out have a few of the functionalities is actually popular for, which happens rather useful when you have actually determined you have actually like to make an effort your hand on one thing more trendy than automatic corrections and also print series of photos. Photo editor can also import freeze frames coming from video, as well as varying data. And also when you're feeling a little idle or it is simply plain uninformed regarding how to make use of a number of the tools, an assistant may aid you adjust the essentials just like illumination, focus, different colors, as well as cutting of images. For them that like their photos in wider screen editions, the program application assists you flawlessly set up photographs to make a picturesque image. As well as if it is actually time to printing off your digital photography capabilities, you may decide on one of the photograph bunch templates to right away publish them in a particular size.

Brand-new photo editor for Windows 10 with a lot of cool functions

This photo editor for Windows 10 is actually well for excited pupils along with a great deal of time in their workflow to figure out the also technical functions that would worry away extremely 1st opportunity photo customizing consumers. It additionally happen geared up with a 360 scenery course. Perhaps the glossiest gem in the bundle will be actually the gorgeous skin layer influence, which evens as well as takes bright spots out the skin tone. Whereas there's no automatically shade repair work option quite essential to remedy the poor lighting up most electronic camera capture, there are the standard functions of batch processing. One of the most well-known misunderstood components of electronic photography is what occurs once you made the photo actually modifying your image. That's the time where you edit the photos you have actually taken, to develop the final product. Editing your images is the matching of the room dark from the time long period of time earlier. We are going to be discuss some suggestions for editing your photos, from the basics like merge photos and copy and paste objects in photos, through extra complex actions. The cropping appliance enables you to transform the dimension of your photo, as well as also to change the element ratio. As an example, you can chop a photo from a rectangle-shaped shape to a round shape. There are several reasons you would certainly wish to crop, consisting of for posting in various layouts and facet proportions. Contrasted to the original, I have chopped the photo with photo editor for Windows 10 to eliminate the shining part of the left side of the pic and also recomposed using the rule of fourths. That makes the lightning screw much more the emphasis of photo shot. When taking the shot, you may wonder why I didn't simply compose appropriately. So in this instance, I was actually preparing an extensive exposure photo shooting without any a tripod stand, so had actually the video camera balanced on the side of the street for stability. That significantly minimal my capability to perfectly mount the moment, so I simply photoshoot broader, knowing I had to be able to crop the photo appropriately shortly after the fact. In both situations, cutting out is very basic and also it is just includes you selecting the cropping tool and afterwards choosing the area you intend to keep with your PC mouse. You use the changes and your new cropped photo is prepared to go. Get this photo editor for Windows 10 and brand new photo editor for experts for very easy flip photos or very simple selective color change. Photo editor or edit a picture software to edit photos and print photos. Download free this photo editor for speedy and intelligent brighten an image.

Photo editor for Windows 10 for professionals

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Whenever the perspective band in a photo is not even degree, a particular of my personal casual inconveniences in photography is. Occasionally whenever we are actually captured up in the minute, this simple guideline is forgotten yet fortunately is such editing and enhancing your photos with the photo editor to make them degree is also very manageable. Leveling the electronic camera on the side of the boat dock meant that the shot was uneven that is particularly recognizable to the eye anytime the picture has actually a clearly identified horizon line, just like the sea. A degree tool belongs to the cut out device, and you may simply just rotate the image to fit. As soon as you utilize the focusing method, a grate will seem to aid you acquire the placement proper. Focusing a photo is a really basic task that will get simply a few moments, causing a far more visually charming image. From time to time while we make a photograph, parts of the picture might just end up being normally darker than we want. We describe the less colored areas of the picture as darkness, as well as the brilliant spots of the image as spotlight. Variance is actually about emphasizing the distinction between the light as well as dark components of the image. Enhancing the variance of a photo can substantially improve the aesthetic impact in which had, by making the boundaries between those light and dark areas clearer. Coloring correction is one more vital part of the photo editor for Windows 10. You can easily change photo coloring in each kind of methods, starting with changing the entire warmness of the image just like just how blue and green it shows up, to individually changing the color and also concentration of specific color schemes contents of an image. I simply wish to talk about some really simple color changes you can make use of to help to make your photos simply just a bit a lot more aesthetically powerful. The quickest means to readjust the different colors in regard to a picture is actually using the color tone technique of the photo editor for Windows 10. That modifies the appearance related to every color or texture within an image to generate it extra as well as less condensed. Similar to lots of edits, the trick is definitely to get an excellent equilibrium way too much saturating the pictures have a tendency to seem instead unnatural. Color photos can be actually really efficient, as well as of course bright white as well as dark is an outstanding selection for every type of situations, in particular, construction, and also some landscape scenes.

Free photo editor for Windows 10 download

Often times there certainly will be a thing in a photo that you totally do not wish to exist, just like a bothersome white spot on anyone's face. That is simple to erase in all of the major photo editor for Windows 10. It is normally simple to get rid of any type of things directly out of a photo however the photo editor for Windows 10 operates ideal on unique, small-sized things that are certainly covered by even color or textures. This is because the recover device needs to change the location you want to erase with something else, and also this functions finest when it has a location nearby that looks comparable. For example, a pimple on a face is surrounded by a great deal of in a similar way colored skin, so website the heal device can conveniently calculate what to replace the bright spot based on the bordering location. This is simply for the photo editor for Windows 10 has to replace the area you need to remove together with something else, and also this works most ideal whenever it has a field close by that looks the same. Photo editor has turned into absolutely complex and also impressive and it is actually feasible to control images so they become completely various out of the initial. There actually are lots of photo editor for Windows 10 and wide ranges of solutions of achieving the exact or very much the same end results. The objective most when it comes to a lot of pictures I upload procedure is normally to make them look as normal as you possibly can. I think this is an exceptional position to start off, also in case you intend to continue on and also create much more unique appearing pictures. Hue variation in a photograph is just one of the most important priorities. The eyes are able to normally see a more comprehensive series of tone than the cam can shot. The significance of image editing and enhancing is the act of modifying a photograph, basically. But that is simplifying a problem which is fairly complex. You can typically carry out simple picture editing strategies just like remove objects from photos fairly quickly and swiftly but intricate techniques as well as digital editing and enhancing might need photo editor and also more know-how. Photo editor is a helper that anyone can work with to manipulate and also increase images. Because photos include a boosting variety of uses, numerous firms are looking for techniques to reuse photos and use them on various media. Check out here this photo editor for Windows 10 and great photo editor for PC to blur pictures. Photo editor for Windows 10 or edit a picture software to cut pictures or draw in photos. Free download photo editor for Windows 10 for pros and edit an image software to enhance an image and perspective control.

#easy photo editor for windows 10

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