#but the delivery is enough to provide me context
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the way tyler writes his lyrics in a way that's lowkey impossible to interpret at a first glance but still delivers the essential feel of it with the first impression is pretty amazing to me
#it takes a while for me to understand tøp lyrics#and i still dont have a clue as to what some(or most) mean#but the delivery is enough to provide me context#and i resonate so much with whats being told and sung#tøp#twenty one pilots#backslide#clancy
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i hope arb switch port does get eng localised lol i really think everyone should experience kuukou giving his word to protect the mc and kinda failing to do so, and his team needing to talk him out of doing something reckless bc he wants to make sure he’s keeping good on his word lol
#vee queued to fill the void#kuukou seeing mc-kun is in trouble and trying to help no questions asked#and then hitoya backtracking that and making sure they aren’t getting involved in anything suspicious with a line delivery that had me 😳😳😳#jyushi’s love for the occult providing some context for bat lol#AND THE BBBAT MAID CAFE MOMENT PLS LOL LET ME REBLOG THAT ACTUALLY ITS BEEN LONG ENOUGH LOL#c: kuukou👑
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Careful - Chapter Two
(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter Two: Liar
Why should I deny what's all at once, so crystal clear?
Summary:
Spencer is eager to talk to you - to find out if your son is actually his. But there are more important matters at hand, like the fact that you might be the next target of a serial killer who is actively stalking single mothers.
The two of you get locked in a battle of wills when you stubbornly refuse his protection and Spencer remains determined to keep you safe.
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst and Smut.
Word Count: 8,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: again, general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of killing/murder, mentions of the reader being a target for a killer; mentions of the reader buying and using a vibrator (does not take place during the fic, more so mentioned as the reality of the ‘sex life’ of a single mom); the reader and Spencer parted on very bad terms (but the details of the situation are not yet revealed); the reader is very angry towards Spencer; the reader and Spencer argue; the reader is in denial that she is the target of a killer; there is some mention of Sebastian having similar hair to Spencer - but I don’t want that to describe or exclude the reader’s race because in the next chapter, there is a mention of Sebastian having the reader’s skin tone; mention of the reader ‘shoving’ Spencer out of anger (not hard enough to cause harm); mention of the reader owning a gun (registered with gun training) as a form of self defense; mention of the reader character celebrating a birthday - but there is no mentions of specific dates or months when the fic is set, so you can easily imagine that this takes place around your birthday (aside from mentions of holidays or seasonal weather); mentions of JJ x Will; JJ talks about her trauma regarding dogs after being attacked in 2x15; this ends in another flashback, this time including flashback sex (smut); Spencer cuts off foreplay to give the reader a birthday present - mentions of heated kissing and some groping; Spencer calls the reader ‘Princess’ (not during sex - in the context of ‘I am here to serve you like royalty’); the smut basically consists of Spencer eating the reader out. And I think that’s it for this chapter.
A/N: Okay so something I did not intend to happen - a lot of this chapter is from JJ's perspective. It just naturally started happening while I was writing it, and it was really interesting to me to write about Spencer and the reader's relationship through her eyes (especially to keep the conflict between them vague to the audience, because JJ doesn't know the details of what happened), and it's not something I did intentionally, but I really loved how it shaped the chapter, so I kept it in. Also, I really wanted to include a lot of JJ x Spencer friendship and comfort moments in the fic because (as a lot of people in the fandom have discussed) - the writers love to have the characters say that JJ and Spencer are best friends, but they don't often show it. They just show a lot of conflict between them. So I wanted to show the potential of their friendship. And I had a lot of fun exploring that. So - I hope you guys enjoy the second chapter, and definitely hope to see you come back for chapter three!!!
...
When you heard someone knock on your door, you thought it was a delivery.
You had ordered Sebastian some new educational coloring books, and some new CDs with Mozart concertos to fall asleep to, because he was getting bored of his current ones. You often felt like you couldn’t keep up with him - Sebastian was so damn smart, and you always tried to provide him with the best resources to learn. Even if he was getting to a point where he was asking for high school level chemistry text books and actually seemed to understand the material in them and you were confused about how he could comprehend any of it.
The package also could have been the new vibrator you had ordered. You weren’t sure if that package was small enough to be left in the mailbox or not. You had to roll your eyes when you thought about how pathetic your sex life had been since having Sebastian. But you couldn’t risk bringing random men through the house just for sex when you had Seb around. So battery power and smut novels, it was.
“Sorry!”
You called out, hoping the delivery person would wait, as you raced to get to the door. You hoped they wouldn’t just slip one of those ‘failed to deliver’ notes into your door handle and force you to run an extra errand with a kid under your arm. You tripped over a toy truck and cursed yourself for procrastinating cleaning up (again).
“Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-”
‘I was in my office, in the back of the house.’
The sentence died off on your tongue when you finally fumbled the door open - your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him.
Spencer Reid.
The father of your child, the man you had once loved.
Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion.
Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief.
Shock.
You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here?
Was he here because of Sebastian? Was he angry? He had to be angry that you hadn’t told him about Sebastian for all of these years. He had to be angry that you had given birth to his child and not told him about it.
You flickered back to lust for a moment as your eyes traced over him.
He looked good.
Somehow, he had grown up so much in just four years. He had gone from a gangly, boyish man to a full blown man. But he was somehow still so much the same. His hair had grown out a lot since you had last seen him - instead of the neatly combed, short cut you had last seen him with, it was downright wild. The chocolate brown locks were sprawling out into the thick curls that you had come to see sprouting from your own son’s head. It wasn’t a look that you were used to on Spencer, but it looked damn good on him.
He was wearing his usual leather messenger bag - probably the exact same one from years ago. And he clearly had the same dress sense, but these clothes in particular made you want to jump his bones. A lavender cardigan that complimented his skin tone so well - and his usual button up shirt and tie, along with his usual gray slacks.
You desperately wanted to blame the sting of attraction that you felt for him on the recent lack of male suitors in your life; the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. But you knew it was something else, too. Your previous attraction to him - the fact that because you had slept with Spencer before, you could still feel the ghost of his hands and tongue on your body.
How did he look so good?
He made you feel like a slob in your casual ‘work from home on a random Tuesday’ Mom clothes. If it had been your choice, he definitely wouldn’t be seeing you for the first time in years while you were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that you were sure had raspberry juice stained on it somewhere, and eyeliner that you had slopped in between traffic lights in the car that morning.
(You hated it.)
“Y/N,”
He finally broke the silence, speaking your name in that honey-sweet way.
Unfortunately, it brought you rocketing back to that night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over.
This chased out that tiny splash of lust and brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions.
Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. More longing. Regret.
Like your brain was a spin wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage.
And that was when you finally spoke.
“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom, your neck aching as the blood pumped hard through your aorta.
Immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and fear took over his face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked fiercely, this question rocketing back to the forefront of your mind.
Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that suddenly, you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say.
You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch. Without even thinking, you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You screeched.
You let your emotions carry your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was resentment and heartache that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time.
“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You screamed. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?”
You gave him another hard shove. Perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, even you weren’t sure.
Spencer just looked at you with wide-eyed shock. Clearly, for once in his life, at a loss for words.
“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat.
“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out.
“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.”
You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless.
He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception.
The two of you became locked in an icy staring contest, neither of you speaking. Spencer found his throat too dry, and for once, his head far too empty. You were simply too angry and too stubborn to speak in those moments.
This stalemate was only broken up when JJ walked around the corner.
“Spence, Hotch just told me that the first woman doesn’t even match the-”
“JJ!” You cried out her name happily, your entire demeanor changing when you saw her.
She grinned, completely forgetting whatever news she had to report to Reid as you practically flew off the porch and ran to meet her. JJ eagerly opened her arms to hug you, and you squeezed her with all the warmth and kindness of an old friend.
Spencer felt a pang of jealousy that he wasn’t being greeted with as much affection. He knew that the last argument between the two of you had been bad, but he didn’t know it had left such a distinct impression on you. He didn’t know it had been enough to make you hate him.
When you pulled away from JJ, you looked between her and Spencer, and then it suddenly struck you.
If Spencer wasn’t here alone, that meant this wasn’t personal. He wasn’t just here to see you over some lost love, or - maybe he didn’t know about Sebastian at all. You felt a pang of guilt twist your gut because of that.
“What - what are you guys doing here?” You asked, now entirely confused, directing the question toward JJ.
JJ looked toward Spencer, and according to his ill-concealed frown, his reunion with you had not gone well. She doubted that you would take the news that you were possibly being hunted by a killer well on top of that.
“Is it alright if we come inside?” JJ asked, her voice tentative and soft. It was the same voice she usually used with victims and their families.
“Yeah.” You said, knowing there must be something big that you were missing, and hoping that you would be filled in soon enough. “I’ll put some coffee on.”
You walked back up the few steps of the porch and breezed right past Reid. You didn’t even spare a glance in his direction as you went back in through the open front door, leaving it open for the two of them with the expectation that they would close it behind themselves.
“So - I take it things didn’t go well?” JJ whispered to Spencer as she moved up onto the porch.
“Not quite.” Spencer mumbled in return before moving into the house, waiting for her to follow.
This made JJ even more curious about what had gone down between you and Spencer all those years ago.
What could have possibly made you so cold and distant toward him?
But she couldn’t just come out and ask. They had a job to do. They were there to ensure your safety against a man who had already killed five women and orphaned five children.
JJ walked into the house and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t surprised that she nearly tripped over a plastic toy truck in the entryway. Even though your son didn’t seem to be here (it was far too quiet for a small boy to be around), this was definitely a house where a child lived.
The first space that was visible to her eye - the living room, was clearly a space that belonged to a young child. There was a large, colorful play mat underneath the coffee table, and a few toys scattered over across the floor, showing that he clearly liked to have hands on play. In the corner, there was a child-sized desk with a small chair, which seemed to be surrounded by art supplies, and advanced textbooks? Some of them opened and were dotted with bright, colorful stickers. One glance told JJ that the reading material very advanced for his age clearly belonged to him.
So he very likely was Spencer’s son.
She wasn’t sure why, but that did bring a cluster of joy through her. Likely because she knew he would be so excited to have a child of his own.
JJ couldn’t help but to notice that many of the toys were Paw Patrol themed - it was a favorite show of Henry’s, too. In the back of her mind, she wondered if your son and Henry might be friends.
“Ugh, I’m so sorry.” You huffed, rushing around with your arms half full of toys now - distracted from getting the coffee, as you had mentioned. You were clearly rushing to pick up some of the mess now that you had realized how it appeared in the eyes of your ‘guests’. “All the - stuff.”
You hesitated to say ‘toys’. Clearly, you didn’t want to bring up the subject of your son, even though the evidence of him was so visible all around. You didn’t want to give Spencer the smallest opening to start asking questions about him. It was something you wanted to avoid speaking about for as long as possible.
Spencer looked at you with a mournful look on his face as you dodged around him, purposefully avoiding eye contact while you picked up a coloring book and a handful of crayons off the couch. You still refused to look his way at all as you rushed off to stash the items away somewhere.
Clearly, he wanted to ask you more about your son, and simply ask that penultimate question: was he the father?
But now wasn’t the right time.
“It’s alright.” JJ assured you. “You can just come sit down. We really need to talk to you.”
You heaved out a sigh, defeated in your effort to clean up, and then came back from one of the other rooms. (JJ could only assume you had stashed the toys in a playroom or a closet, because much like her own home, all areas had become a domain for toys and playtime). You motioned for them to sit on the couch, and you scooted over a rocking chair from the other side of the room to sit in front of them, blocking the shut-off TV on the other side.
“So, what is it?” You asked, clearly eager and curious to know what they were doing in your home - why they had contacted you now after so many years apart.
JJ and Spencer exchanged a look, and with a gentle nod from him, JJ took the lead.
“Well, um… there’s no easy way to say this, but we believe that you might be in danger.” She told you, introducing the topic gently, while wanting to be honest and direct. “Perhaps you’ve seen it on the news? But if you haven’t… several single mothers have been killed in the area recently, and we have reason to believe that you might be the killer’s next target.”
You looked at her, entirely observant, quietly taking in her words. Your face was still and expressionless, and JJ was unsure if you were going to take this calmly and logically - if you were going to panic after you had fully absorbed the news, if you were going to cry.
After a moment of silence - you burst out laughing. Your laughter was harsh and nervous, a sound that cut through the air like the rip of a chainsaw. Clearly, it was the stark opposite of someone taking the news with tears.
“Oh my god.” You sighed, taking a breath from the non-humorous laughter. “You know that you didn’t have to make up some excuse just to come and see me, right?”
Spencer’s face curled into a deep frown. He was upset that you weren’t taking this seriously. JJ found herself in shock. Usually when people found out they were potentially on the radar of a killer, they were paranoid, afraid, questioning why.
But it was very rare to see denial.
She did take notice of the fact that you didn’t immediately ask about what kind of evidence or reasoning they had to believe that you were the killer’s next target. Perhaps if your brain let you assess that reasoning for yourself and found it to be valid, then fear would take over. And you couldn’t let that happen. So this laughter, this posturing and not taking things seriously - it was an unconscious way to protect yourself from that fear.
But JJ could only theorize about that.
“I did miss you, JJ.” You said, very pointedly looking at her while you said it. “But you could have just sent me an email or something.”
You continued avoiding Spencer’s harsh gaze as he bored holes into the side of your face with his intense, intrusive eyes.
“Look, this is serious-” Spencer began, and you cut him off.
“Okay.” You shrugged. “Let’s say for argument’s sake that there is someone trying to kill me,”
You spoke of this lightly, the words entirely condescending on your lips, as though Spencer’s theory was entirely wild and imaginative to begin with.
JJ saw the movement in his jaw as he grinded his teeth out of the corner of her eye, and she was surprised that he let you continue.
“I have an alarm system that I set every night before I go to bed.” You informed them. “I am a proud gun owner. I have a registered revolver that I keep in a lock box beside my bed and I renew my gun training every single spring.” You told them, not seeming the least bit worried at the idea of a killer hunting you down. “If someone wants to kill me, let them try. I’m sure you guys have much better ways to spend your time than sitting around here, chatting with me when there are people out there, actually in danger. People who probably need your help.”
You said this, trying to dismiss them. And then you moved to get up from your seat, looking to escape the conversation entirely. But once again, Spencer stopped you.
“That’s it?” He fired back, entirely indignant, standing from his place on the couch.
This caused you to roll your eyes and let out a hiss, your lungs deflating like an annoyed balloon as you paused in the middle of the room.
“Yes, that’s it.” You groaned back. “Look, I know it’s your job to see problems everywhere, but-”
“It’s my job to protect people.” Spencer replied, cutting you off. “And-”
“Funny!” You scoffed, your voice escalating in volume. It had turned into a full-blown argument now - you were entirely uncaring that JJ was there to witness it; Spencer was locked in your sight like the crosshairs of a scope, and you were ready to fire. “You give a shit about ‘protecting’ me now, but what the fuck happened four years ago?”
You glared harshly at Spencer, and he locked his jaw, staring right back. It turned into a poisonous silence as neither of you spoke - he didn’t have a good answer for this question. And it made JJ all the more horribly curious about what had happened between the two of you. But she didn’t need to be a psychic to sense that the two of you needed some privacy.
“Do… do you mind if I go get myself a glass of water?” She asked, tentatively standing up from her place on the couch.
“I’ll get it.” You huffed out, moving to leave the room.
“It’s okay.” JJ told you. “I can get it for myself. Just point me in the right direction.”
You motioned toward the kitchen and JJ left, and she heard Spencer hiss out something about you being stubborn, which turned into another cluster of voices. The argument turned even more personal and sour now that the both of you didn’t have a witness.
When JJ made her way into the kitchen, she was happy to see that your backyard was full of toys. A pair of sliding glass doors let her peek out to see a colorful swing set and a large playhouse, and a scattering of other toys meant that your son obviously spent a lot of time outside. She smiled to herself, trying to ignore the rising, angered sound of voices from the other room as she found a glass in one of the cabinets. When she moved to the refrigerator’s water dispenser, something along the way caught her eye.
A vase of fresh flowers was sitting on the counter.
White carnations.
It made her stomach churn ominously. It felt too perfect to be a coincidence.
She abandoned her half-full glass and grabbed the vase, walking back to the living room with it.
“You just can’t accept help from anybody, can you? How can you not understand that your life is in danger here? This man is not going to stop until-” Spencer ranted on.
He was still trying to convince you to take the threat seriously - but you were still boiling with rage over the past, blind to anything else.
“I can’t accept anyone’s help?” You scoffed, crowding into his personal space to hiss the words closer to him. “That is so rich coming from someone who-”
JJ cleared her throat loudly, cutting you off.
“Spence.” She got his attention from the intense gaze he was keeping on you - anger hot in his eyes even though he was staring heavily at your lips.
When Spencer looked over and saw the vase in JJ’s hands, his entire face shifted in a blink. His expression went from tight-knit anger and annoyance to ‘shit-your-pants’ worry. The danger went from being theoretical to being very real in that moment.
“Where did these flowers come from?” Spencer asked.
“What?” You gaped, so entirely confused.
“Where did you get the flowers?” He asked, rephrasing the question, his tone more urgent and demanding now.
“Why does that matter?” You replied, exasperated. You didn’t see how it was at all relevant.
“All of the women who were killed received these exact same kind of flowers within days of their death.” JJ told you. “Do you have any idea who sent them?”
“I thought my mother did.” You shrugged. “There was no name on the card. It just said ‘Happy Birthday’. She didn’t get to see me in person for my birthday, she’s traveling right now. She’s one of the only people who would send me flowers for my birthday.”
“Yes, but your mother knows that your favorite flowers are lavender and baby’s breath. Why would she send these?” Spencer replied.
Naturally, he remembered your favorite flowers.
You couldn’t get stuck on that, though. Instead, you pondered the question he posed.
Why would your mother send you white carnations without even signing the card?
It wasn’t something you had thought about. At the time, you had just thought it was considerate, and sweet. When you had called her to thank her for the flowers, you had gotten her voicemail. You had left her a message thanking her. She was away on a singles cruise with shoddy reception and she hadn’t gotten back to you yet.
“They’re just flowers.” You said, letting out another nervous chuckle - but your voice broke over this one.
Obviously the reality of things was truly starting to set in with you.
“We need to set up protective custody for you.” Spencer said, taking out his phone in order to get this done.
“No!” You snapped. “I am not having some random cops follow me around because you think I might be in danger.” You hissed angrily.
Spencer paused and stared you down, debating if he was going to go against your wishes or not, his phone still in hand.
JJ hated the look in Spencer’s eyes. That deep, bitter fear. Whatever had happened between the two of you, there was still enough care lingering there that he would fight for you no matter what. He was terrified for you. He wasn’t going to let you meet the same fate as the other victims. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go.
JJ put the vase down on the coffee table, and turned to you.
“It doesn’t have to be random cops. We can stay with you, in order to-” She started to explain, only to be disrupted by the digital ringtone of your home phone echoing through the house.
You rushed to grab the phone, and JJ heard some of the quiet conversation from you on one end.
“Yeah, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there soon. It’s no problem. Thank you so much. Yeah, twenty minutes. Bye.”
You hung up and then rushed back into the living room - and before either of them could speak further on the matter, you rushed past them. You went to the entryway, taking off your slippers to exchange them for sneakers.
“Look, guys, I would love to stay and hang out, but I have somewhere important to be.” You huffed out.
“Seriously?” Spencer replied, entirely frustrated with you. “This isn’t some tea party. We aren’t just hanging around here for fun. Call whoever that was and tell them that you’re gonna be late. Or call and cancel, or-”
“No!” You yelled back, entirely frustrated with him. “Dammit, Spencer! People have responsibilities, you know! I have responsibilities. I am an adult, I’m not some child you can talk down to. Now get the fuck out of my house so I can lock up, and get to the important things that I have to do. Things that don’t involve wasting my time talking to you.”
You said the last part so snidely, resenting that Spencer’s unexpected visit had been part of your day.
He opened his mouth to argue against this, but JJ put a gentle hand on his shoulder, nudging him toward the door. He sighed and flexed to this movement. He angrily stormed past you to leave through the front door, which he left wide open like a toddler having a tantrum.
You grabbed your keys and your purse from a side table near the door and JJ moved to leave as well. On her way along, she put a gentle hand on your shoulder, capturing your attention.
“We’ll check back in with you later, okay?” She said, using her most gentle, non-confrontational voice.
“Sure.” You easily agreed, unable to be angry with her. “But just call, or something. There’s no need to bang down my door over some stupid flowers. It’s nothing.”
She stepped through the door and you followed. As you used your keys to lock up, you added on:
“I would give you my number, but I’m sure Penelope can find it for you in five minutes flat.”
JJ chuckled at this.
“More like two and a half, I’d say.” She replied - it was a joking tone, but she did truly think this highly of Penelope’s skills.
You smiled over your shoulder at her and she nodded before she began to walk back to the car, where Spencer was already sitting in the passenger’s seat, stewing in his anger.
When she got in beside him, they watched you pull out of the driveway and drive off before either of them spoke.
“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips.
“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply, tired.
In order to distract himself from all of it, he was staring down at some files in his lap - some of the case files of the other murders that he had pulled out of his bag. He needed something to do to keep his mind from churning more on the fact that you seemed to hate him. He wanted to find a way to protect you now, instead of focusing on the past.
But JJ seemed hellbent on walking backward - getting him to look back on what happened between the two of you.
“I can do complicated.” She said. “We’ve got plenty of time. We should just sit here and wait for her to come back.”
“You should go check in with Hotch.” Spencer told her, dodging around the question once again. “I’ll come back after.”
“After what?” JJ questioned, finding this wording particularly strange.
JJ started the car and pulled away, hoping that you would be safe during the time they didn’t have eyes on you. The UnSub had a particular routine - he liked to stalk his victims for a few weeks before he broke into their homes and killed them. So she hoped that he wasn’t ready to make contact with you yet. She hoped that if he did, your gun and your alarm system would be enough to deter him.
“I - I wanted to get her something nice.” He answered, sounding rather shy about this proclamation. “Like she mentioned, her birthday just passed. And, according to the preschool forms, her son’s birthday was a week ago. I want to get something for him too.”
“They have the same birthday?” JJ asked.
“Not exactly the same, but their birthdays are only five days apart.” Spencer replied. “I missed his birth.” He added on, a quiet sigh, entirely melancholic. “I missed the whole pregnancy. I - I missed everything.”
“You still didn’t answer my question.” JJ reminded him. “What happened?”
Spencer knew she was asking as a friend. He knew that of all people - she was the one to talk to about this.
“It - it was right after Hankel.” He admitted quietly. “That was when Y/N and I broke up.”
“Oh.” JJ said quietly.
The air in the car became thick as the heaviness truly overtook her.
So, it was complicated.
But she definitely couldn’t understand your rage toward Spencer.
“When I came back from Atlanta, she knew I wasn’t the same. And things - we - we fell apart.” He admitted this barely above a whisper, hesitant to even voice the words as a reality. “You knew what kind of person I was back then. I wasn’t good to her. I wasn’t good to anybody.”
Spencer let out a harsh chuckle - a defense to all the hurt he was feeling about it.
JJ spotted a sign for a shopping center, and pulled into the parking lot. She knew that Spencer likely had a good idea about buying into your good graces with a late birthday gift. Even if it wouldn’t instantly make up for everything that had happened all those years ago.
“Yeah, but you’re sober now.” She reminded him.
“She doesn’t know that.” Spencer replied.
JJ ruminated in thought for a moment.
“You know, I met Will afterwards, right?” She said.
Out of the corner of her eye, Spencer nodded.
“It was only a few weeks after everything happened, when we were working that case in New Orleans.” She explained. “And he looked at me like I was a hero. Because I helped him finish what his father couldn’t. He didn’t look at me like I was fragile or broken. He didn’t tip-toe around me. He didn’t see me as some ghost. And that is part of the reason why I fell for him. He always saw me as this goddess. Like Superwoman.”
Spencer smiled at this.
He wanted to be that person for you. He wanted to be your Superman. (But he feared that he couldn’t live up to that. That he would fail you when the time came.)
JJ found a parking spot, and parked, but Spencer lingered - sensing there was more to the conversation.
“You know… Henry wants a puppy.” JJ’s voice shook, her throat clenching up around these words.
Spencer’s stomach shook.
He hadn’t been there, but he had seen the scars on JJ’s arms. He had seen the footage of the other poor woman being torn apart by those dogs.
“And I had to tell Will everything. How I was chased down, how I had to shoot two innocent animals - the stupid fact that I still feel guilty about it, even though they would have killed me if I hadn’t done it.” She said, her throat becoming more closed off with each word. She cleared it before she spoke again. “How I lost you, how it was all my fault.”
“What happened to me wasn’t your fault.” Spencer felt the need to say this aloud, reaching over and putting a gentle hand on her knee. She nodded at him before she continued.
“Just - it was all so overwhelming. The idea of having a dog in our house. But… I told him that I wanted to try, at least. For Henry.” JJ explained. “But when we went to the animal shelter - the sound of dogs barking… I couldn’t stop myself from flinching. And next thing I know, I’m sitting on the curb outside with my head between my knees and Will is putting a bottle of water to my lips.”
“Henry seems more like a cat person anyway.” Spencer replied, hoping this slightly humorous comment would offer some comfort to his friend.
JJ let out a tired laugh.
“He’s three and a half, I think we’re still in the stage where a goldfish is more than enough for him.” She added on.
“I - I never told Y/N.” Spencer said, suddenly shifting the conversation. JJ raised her brow, prompting further explanation of this. “I never told her what happened to me. What happened with Hankel.”
JJ gave him a sad look.
“Why not?”
“I - I didn’t want her to view me as weak. I couldn’t fight him off. I accepted the drugs. At certain points, I…. I even pitied him.” Spencer replied. “I didn’t want things to change between us. Even though they did anyway.”
“Do you still wanna be with her?” JJ asked.
“What?” Spencer gaped, not expecting the question.
“If the kid is yours, obviously you wanna be in his life. But co-parenting as separate, single people is one thing.” JJ explained herself. “Do you still want to be with Y/N? Do you still love her?”
“Yes.” Spencer replied shyly.
“Then you have to tell her everything.” JJ said firmly. “Being with someone for the long term isn’t about creating some fantasy. I fell in love with Will because he looked at me like I was Superwoman, but I stayed in love because he takes care of me when I’m powerless. You have to be weak in front of her and let her take care of you, so that you can be strong everywhere else.”
Spencer sighed - letting this wisdom fully penetrate him.
He knew that being a genius sometimes meant that he wasn’t the smartest person in the room. Apparently, this was one of those times.
“You’re right.”
Then, he reached for the car door’s handle, feeling like JJ had taught him a lot with that conversation and he needed some time to think alone.
“You want me to come with you?” JJ asked. “You might need a woman’s opinion on what to get,”
“No thanks, I know Y/N pretty well.” He replied. “At least I hope I still do.” He opened the door fully and stepped out. “And I wanted some alone time, to… think all of this over. To think about what I’m gonna say to Y/N. I’m gonna walk back afterwards, the house is only a few blocks away.”
JJ nodded.
“I should check back in with Hotch.” She noted. “See if they found anything with the other women on the list. Otherwise, all we’ve got is the flowers.”
Just as he moved to close the door again, JJ spoke up one last time.
“Rubble.” She said suddenly - which sounded very strange with no context.
“What?” Spencer asked, ducking his head down to see inside the car to potentially hear her words better.
“Rubble - it’s a character from the kids’ TV show, Paw Patrol.” She explained. “There was about five action figures of him sitting on the living room floor back there. So I would assume that he’s your son’s favorite character.”
Spencer’s chest jumped at the way she said ‘your son’ - so casually.
He could really have a child in his life. This could really be his future.
If he played his cards right, this could be his future with you.
“Thank you, JJ.” Spencer grinned at her.
She smiled back and he stood up to his full height and closed the car door, walking off into the shopping center by himself.
And of course, his thoughts drifted back to you.
He thought back to the last time he had spent your birthday with you. Before Hankel, before all the madness. Before everything good in his life slipped through his fingers and he was left feeling so alone.
…
For someone with basically no serious relationships under his belt before you came along, Spencer was excellent when it came to romance.
Perhaps it was because he spent his time reading the classics - he could recite Elizabethan poetry off by heart, he could whisper epic romantic ballads in your ear before kissing you with such intense passion that it left your head spinning. He had such a perfect picture of what romance should be, and it meant that he knew how to plan a date that left you feeling like a queen.
Every single time he took you out, he made you feel like you were the only woman on earth - like he would move the seas and the sky just to show you how much he cared.
And because he insisted that your birthday should be a day all about you - a day dedicated to celebrating you - then this was certainly no different.
The night had been a whirlwind of perfection.
After dinner at a gorgeous fine dining restaurant downtown, Spencer then drove the two of you to an art gallery to stroll around. He cited that he wanted you to have some down time for your food to settle before he gave you your present. From the spark in his eye, you had a feeling that you knew exactly what that present would be. The whole evening was so utterly beautiful and peaceful. And like everything with Spencer - it was a pleasant enrichment of the mind, looking at art while he told you things about the artists or the origins of the paintings.
Before you got halfway through the gallery, he checked his watch and told you that it was ‘just about time’ for your present, and then he drove you back to his apartment.
The two of you barely made it through the door before you had him pinned against it, your mouth enveloping his in a hot, desperate kiss. You were so utterly grateful to have such a romantic, thoughtful man in your life.
The entire evening had been nothing but a reminder of that - the way he looked at you with love so pure in his eyes. Him opening doors for you, keeping his hand on your lower back to usher you gently around, speaking lowly to you as though his words were precious and only meant to be yours.
You needed him. You needed to show him how much you appreciated all of it. You needed him to know how much of a treasure he was in your life.
You reached for his belt and Spencer let out a choked off moan into your mouth.
You were surprised when he reached for your wrist, gently pulling your touch back - stopping you from unfastening the belt as he pulled his now slightly swollen lips away from your kiss.
“As - as much as I want to,” He huffed out against your mouth. “I - I still have to give you your present.” He noted, flashing you a smile.
“I thought this was my present.” You replied, reaching down to grope Spencer’s half hard cock through his pants.
He let out a groan; but then he reached for your wrist again, pulling your touch back.
“I - I promise - later - afterwards? Later tonight.” He stuttered out, hard pressed to focus as more blood rushed to his cock.
Spencer puzzled you. You had never known any other man to interrupt foreplay for something other than sex, unless it was life or death. But it made you very curious about what your present was and why he was so desperate to give it to you.
And sex was still on the table, so that panging need between your legs would be taken care of eventually.
You hummed in ascent and stepped back, releasing Spencer from where you had him pressed against the door. He gulped in a large breath of air before he moved across the room.
You were surprised when he didn’t move to turn on any lights in the apartment, leaving the two of you settled in comfortable darkness. The only lights being the light from the bathroom that he had left on before leaving, shining down the hall, and the dim lighting coming in the windows - some street lights and the occasional passing car’s headlights.
Spencer shrugged off his blazer and tossed it over the back of the couch on his way toward the window. He yanked up the blinds in front of the space where he had set up a very expensive, advanced, gorgeous telescope - one that had been there the last few times you had visited. Astronomy was one of his many hobbies, and he often invited you to view different stars or passing comets. It was just one of the many things you learned from him - knowledge you absorbed from being around him that made you feel infinitely smarter.
You always indulged in the joy of feeling smarter just from being in his presence. You loved that Spencer was someone so gifted who loved to share his knowledge, rather than gatekeeping it or being snide toward others who weren’t as privileged as him. It was just another thing to love about him - the fact that he was so kind in sharing his big brain with others.
You watched him with intrigue while you took your wrap off your shoulders and tossed your purse onto the couch. Enjoying the quiet and the peaceful darkness and watching him work, you moved to sit on the arm of the couch to begin unstrapping your heels.
He checked his watch again, and then looked to a small side table he had near the telescope. He flipped open a notebook that he had there, and you supposed that the minimal light coming in through the window was enough for him to see whatever it was that he had written there. He adjusted the telescope slightly, then looked at the notebook again, then adjusted the telescope again.
Then he said ‘aha, there you are’ under his breath, grinning widely to himself.
The entire thing made your insides glow with curiosity.
Spencer then turned back to you, still grinning widely. When he noticed your shoe half-hanging off your foot, he stepped over to you and softly grabbed your ankle, sliding your shoe off the entire way before gently rubbing the sole of your foot.
“Let me help you with that, Princess.” He said quietly, before moving to take the shoe off your other foot.
Again, your insides tingled as he made you feel like you were the most important woman on earth.
“Thank you.” You replied, almost speechless at the action.
“If you’ll step right this way, I can show you your present.” He said, motioning toward the telescope with a dramatic flare.
You let out a giggle as you stepped over your abandoned shoes and moved to look into the telescope.
You wondered if he had written some poem and taped it onto the other end of the lens or something like that (it was Spencer, it must have been something epically romantic). But as you bent down and closed one eye to get a good look, it was entirely ordinary.
The telescope was focused on a single, tiny star.
It was beautiful, but it was very… plain. And more than anything, it was confusing.
Your present was… a star?
“Spencer, I don’t really get it?” You sighed, standing up to your full height once again.
“I got you a star.” He said proudly, grinning even wider now.
When you stared at him with more intense confusion, Spencer reached over to the notebook and pulled something out. After he handed it to you, you leaned into the light of the window and studied it carefully.
It was a certificate stating that Spencer had paid to name the star after you.
He had literally changed the night sky for you.
“Oh my god.” You gasped quietly.
You felt so overwhelmed.
If he had made you feel like the most important woman in the world before, then now - you felt like the most important woman in the galaxy.
“Spencer, this is - this is too much.” You said, your throat clenching up slightly due to the intensity of the emotions.
“No, it’s not.” He said firmly, reaching out and putting a hand on your jaw, tilting your face up from looking at the certificate to look at him.
There it was again, all of it spelled out in his eyes - the adoration, the pure, overwhelming affection that he felt for you. It bloomed nothing but those same feelings in return from you. It was almost so overwhelming that you felt like you could have exploded from how much love you felt for this man, all of it swelling inside of you so quickly that you felt like your body couldn’t contain it. Like it was a sickness that was going to overrun your body if you weren’t careful.
“Spencer.”
His name swelled in your throat like that throbbing love, and you couldn’t help yourself from reaching out and grabbing him by the front of his shirt, pulling him into another kiss. Because of course, words weren’t enough. You smothered him with your mouth, trying desperately to communicate every ounce of passion and gratefulness you were feeling with the heat of that kiss.
Spencer held you, engulfing both your cheeks with his large, warm hands, kissing you back with just as much intensity.
Both of you lingered there for a few moments, savoring each other’s lips, mingling in each other’s breath.
You were disappointed when Spencer pulled away.
“There is something else.” He told you, a bit of glee edging on his voice.
“What?” You gaped, shocked by this.
“There’s something else I have to give you. Another part of your present.” He clarified, pulling back completely - likely in order to fetch this thing.
You let out a breath. You weren’t sure how this magnificent man could possibly do more.
You placed the certificate for the star down on the table where Spencer had kept it. Later, you would take it home and have it framed, wanting to display it proudly. You could imagine yourself putting it up in the front of your home when you eventually moved in with Spencer. You could put it next to your marriage certificate; eventually, put next to wedding photos when the two of you eventually got married. (And sometime later, it would be hanging alongside photos of you and Spencer with your kids. You tingled, realizing that this was the first time you had ever thought of having kids with him, but it fit so well. It seemed right.)
The thought made you tingle.
You could truly imagine yourself having a life with Spencer. Standing proudly because this was just the beginning of it. He truly felt like ‘the one’ you had always been waiting for.
“Here.”
Spencer’s voice pulled you from your plethora of dreamy thoughts, and you turned to see him holding a velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat at the passing thought that it might be the box - but no. Now wasn’t the time. The two of you had only been dating for a year and a half. And while you were so deeply in love, you knew that it was a bit haste to assume that he was ready for marriage when you were his first serious girlfriend. You were still both so young.
He opened the lid and you let out a small gasp when you saw it.
It was a simple, elegant silver necklace. The pendant was a four pointed star, with a small, dainty stone in the middle. You easily recognized it as your birthstone, meant to represent the fact that he had given it to you on your birthday. And obviously the star pendant as a whole represented that he had also gifted you a literal star in the sky on that same day.
“Spencer, it’s so beautiful.” You said, utterly breathless.
“Traditionally, the four pointed star is believed to represent the designation of a goal. It marks one’s great endeavors, because it seems to point to the four cardinal directions. This star is meant to guide someone, like a map - the way that sailors used the stars to guide their path.”
Spencer explained, knowledgeable as he always was.
“I - I chose this for you because… well, because when I met you, I felt as though I had accomplished great things in all areas of my life, except for one. Academically, I was satisfied. In my career, I was happy. But when it came to matters of the heart… I was utterly clueless. And when I found you… it felt like you were my guiding star. Like you were the person I had been waiting for to finally show me - show me the meaning of love.”
“Oh, Spencer.” Your voice cracked around these words, barely able to form them. “Oh, honey. I love you so much. Thank you.”
It was all your mind could gather at the moment. It wasn’t the first time you had said it to him, but it was certainly one of the most intense.
“I love you too.” He replied. Through the dimness, you could almost see tears forming in his eyes. “You truly make me so happy.”
Spencer then cleared his throat harshly, wanting to clear away his intensely emotional tears.
“Can - can I put it on you?” He asked shyly, motioning with the necklace in its box.
“Of course.” You grinned. “I’d love that.”
You turned around and Spencer took it out of the box, fiddling with the dainty clasp for a moment before he put it around your neck and then did it up for you. It felt so right around your neck. It felt like his love was being carried with you. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to take it off anytime soon. You could easily imagine yourself feeling so proud to answer whenever random strangers or your co-workers asked where it was from.
When it was secured around your neck, Spencer leaned in and laid a gentle, open-mouthed kiss against the chain. This simple act reminded you of that needy throb between your thighs; of what you had been wanting so badly the moment you had come in the door.
“So…” He whispered against your neck. “What else does the birthday girl want?”
“I can think of a few things.”
That was how you ended up with your back pressed against the softness of the couch - too impatient to even make it to the bed - with your dress pushed up around your waist, your panties tossed somewhere in the middle of the living room rug. Spencer’s glasses were pressed up onto his forehead while his knees dug into that same rug, his fingers splayed across your thighs, holding you open to makeway for his tongue.
He ate you out with all of the intensity and passion that he had kissed you with - moaning into your pussy as though he was singing directly to the gods.
“Fuck, Spence.” You moaned, raking your hands through his hair, holding him close - not that he would want to pull away for even a second.
He loved your taste more than anything in the world, and he savored every second that he got the privilege of being on his knees for you. He moaned into your pussy, loudly, almost pathetically - hot echoes coming from his lungs as though he was the one being pleasured. He laved his tongue across you with an open jaw, drinking in as much of you as possible while your thighs quaked around his head. Your nails dug into his scalp and he only moaned harder, loving the sound of your needy whines and your gasping breaths as your clit throbbed under his tongue.
Spencer hummed in delight while he bounced your clit on his tongue, loving the feeling of that sweet little bead throbbing against him; loving your taste, loving your echoing moans. Loving how much he could bring you pleasure.
“Fuck, Spence, so close!”
He put his lips around you and sucked then, holding you gently against him by the hips. He couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling of your body quaking against his face while your orgasm overtook you. It was overwhelming and beautiful and warmed your whole body - just like the love you felt for him.
He pulled away after a moment, when he was sure that he had seen you through to the satisfying end, and he grinned against the mound of your pussy.
“Happy birthday, pretty girl.”
…
After the break-up, Spencer often looked up to the sky and thought about you.
On the nights when your star was in place overhead, he felt a particular pang in his chest. He wondered where you were and what you were doing. He wondered if you were safe. He spent many nights staring out his telescope, wondering if you were happy, blanketed under that inky sky.
You thought about the star sometimes, too.
You thought it was a lot like your relationship with Spencer. Placing all of your hopes and dreams onto something already dead - something where the light had died out long ago.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Three - Turn It Off
#sundrop writes#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#dad!spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you
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Thanks for your response ala Ruby & Yang, great stuff!
Idle aside, but do you have any thoughts on Yang's role as the sort of black sheep of the family by dint of Raven associations?
Cos like, Tai overtly favors Ruby, projects Raven onto Yang, resents Raven being rough up and is bad enough about reminders of her Yang feels she has to apologize for his negative reactions. Let alone his... Everything else.
Then there's Qrow who doesn't seem to interact with Yang over much at all and one of if not their most major interaction. Involves him straight up saying he thinks she's either a liar hurting people for fun or "crazy".
I recall someone I was chatting with wondering: Imagine doing everything you can to keep your family from breaking apart & being compared to the woman who left you when you were a baby?
Cos I do wonder how Yang feels about all that given she seems to downplay and or try to work around her family's issues when she can. Let alone what it says about the adults in the room.
smth i think about a lot is the way yang’s narrative about her childhood shifts between v2 to v5
’cause in v2 it’s: “it was tough. ruby was really torn up, my dad kind of shut down. it wasn’t long before i learned why…” all to provide context for this anecdote about putting ruby in a wagon and running away to find her mother. and then her conclusion is “my stubbornness should have gotten us killed that night.”
and while there is a degree here of yang framing the story to emphasize the point she wants blake to understand, it’s also very obvious in her delivery that the emotional reality of this memory for yang is “the time my stupidity and stubbornness almost got me and ruby eaten by grimm”—when she was [checks notes] like five, six years old, and regularly left at home unsupervised.
but in v5, it’s: “my mom left me. ruby’s mom left too. tai was always busy with school, and ruby couldn’t even talk yet; i had to pick up the pieces. i had to pick up the pieces. alone.”
aside from the telling slip (tai, not dad)—yang centers her own feelings and the harm this situation did to her this time. which is something she’s always felt but i don’t think she could have brought herself to say it out loud to anyone during the beacon arc, because it was pressed down under the guilt on display in burning the candle, the feeling of having been inadequate and too stubborn and too selfish and and and–
coughs quietly. “my stubbornness should have gotten us killed that night.” / “you were predictable. and… stubborn. and maybe a little boneheaded.” yang’s narrative about the wagon incident—which happened when she was five or six!—pinning the blame on the thing tai imagines to be her fatal flaw is…probably not coincidental. yang in v4 after a year of being loved by her team and supported by mentors like glynda / oobleck / port has the perspective to know that tai doesn’t know what he’s talking about; but as a small child who’d just had a terrifying near-death experience with her baby sister… 😶
it definitely had a big impact on the way yang sees herself
BUT i do read qrow's talk with yang in 3.8 pretty differently ->
because the context is: yang saw mercury attack her and struck back in self defense, then had like a dozen synthetic soldiers point guns in her face, then looked up and saw the replay footage of herself walking over to shoot a boy who was just kneeling on the ground. and some of the most powerful authority figures in the world are pushing this narrative that stress and adrenaline "clouded her judgment."
like this would make anyone doubt their sanity. bc holy shit.
yang, though...a couple weeks ago, yang after being knocked unconscious woke up and blearily saw someone she thought was her mother walk away from her and disappear in a flash of red light. she hasn't mentioned it to anyone, because it's just so bizarre—yang doesn't know about raven's semblance yet—she must have just been seeing things. right?
aside from raven (who isn't here) and yang (who believes she hallucinated), the only other person who knows that yang saw her mom on the train is qrow, because raven told him about it. he also knows that:
tai insisted on not telling yang ANYTHING about her mother, and qrow respected that up until now; so yang doesn't know about raven's semblance and can't make sense of what she saw.
salem's infiltrators are the same people who attacked amber, and qrow didn't get a good look at them because they seemingly vanished into thin air—pretty damn good chance that one of them has a semblance that manipulates what you see.
ozpin wants #2 kept secret, so yang has some very powerful people actively trying to convince her that she's crazy. ironwood is straight up gaslighting her.
qrow also—based on the first thing he says, which is "why'd you do it?"—seems to consider it a possibility that it is what it looked like but yang did have a good reason, and i actually do not think that is an outrageous thing for qrow specifically to think. because qrow was emotionally abused as a child, and he knows yang, and in the event that yang really did suddenly turn around and punch a guy who was kneeling on the ground, why would she do it?
glances at shay d. mann. well. maybe this kid has been harassing her? maybe he said something horrible or threatening to her and in the heat of the moment she just snapped? maybe "he attacked me, i saw him attack me" isn't really a lie per se, she's just scared that "he's been picking on me ever since he got here and he made a disgusting remark and i just couldn't take it anymore" won't be taken seriously? as in, he did attack her—verbally/emotionally.
it's probably worth asking, at least!
so, qrow leads with "why'd you do it?" in case there is some invisible reason justifying the apparent action. yang says "you know why." qrow goes okay, well, i only know what i saw, so you're either lying (i.e., yang had a reason she now isn't telling) or crazy (i.e., yang saw something different from reality that was very real to her).
she says "i'm not lying." qrow believes her: "crazy, got it."
at this point, he knows the most probable explanation is that one of salem's infiltrators fucked with her head. the inner circle's gaslighting doesn't sit right with him; he's not going to buck ozpin by telling her the truth outright, but he wants to make sure yang knows she isn't losing her mind. he also has all the info needed to guess that yang is actually really really scared that she might be crazy.
which is why he kicks off the wall and begins to pace around. the language he uses sounds dismissive, but his tone is mild and his body language implies "let's talk about it, let's figure this out."
leading to:
YANG: Who knows? Maybe I am.
QROW: And here I thought your dark-haired friend was the emo one.
YANG: I saw my mom. …I- I was in a lot of trouble, took a pretty hard hit. But when I came to, the person attacking me was gone, and I thought I saw… her. Her sword. Like the one in you and dad’s old picture.
QROW: You’re not crazy, Yang. That was your mom, alright. Let me guess—she didn’t say a word, did she?
YANG: How did you know that?
QROW: I don't see my sister very often, but she does try to keep in touch... whenever it suits her.
YANG: Wait—you mean you talk to her? That was real!?
QROW: Yeah, she found me. Had a tip from my most recent assignment and wanted me to give you a message.
it's really telling that yang responds to him this way. 'cause we've seen how yang acts when she feels dismissed or belittled:
TAI: Well, "normal" is what you make of it.
YANG: What is that supposed to mean? Do you want me to just pretend like nothing happened? I lost a part of me. A piece of me is gone. And it's never coming back.
TAI: You're right. It's not coming back. But that doesn't have to stop you from becoming who you wanna be. You're Yang Xiao Long, my sunny little dragon. You can do whatever you put your mind to. So whenever you're ready to stop moping, and get back out there? I'll be there for you.
YANG: I– I...
she freezes and shuts down! her teachers have to come to her rescue!—but when qrow goes "crazy, got it" and suggests she's being "emo," yang blurts out her big secret. i saw my mom. to me that suggests a level of trust and understanding that isn't there with tai: qrow says stuff like "okay, so you're crazy" and "here i thought your friend was the emo one" but what he means is "hey, i know something's really bugging you, tell me about it," and yang picks up what he's putting down.
it's akin to how ruby goes "did you miss me? DID YOU MISS ME??" and qrow's like "nope" and they both laugh. or the back-and-forth ribbing between him and the girls in 3.4. there's this layer of mild ironic meanness in the way qrow converses with his nieces that all of them are fluent in, and in this scene he's using that mode to signal that "crazy" is not off-limits, that it's okay to talk about openly.
crucially, there's a code-switch in the middle of the conversation: as soon as yang gets real and says "i saw my mom," qrow reflects that seriousness back to her. you're not crazy, that was your mom, she found me afterward and told me about it. it was real. you're okay. qrow's ability to do that—to shift into a more serious mode when irony isn't appropriate—is why yang can have this rapport with him that she doesn't have with tai, because tai isn't... being ironic when he says mean or dismissive things to her.
anyway, qrow passes on raven's terrible message and then kind of annotates it: "raven's got an interesting way of looking at the world that i don't particularly agree with, and she's dangerous." (which is a very diplomatic way of saying he thinks raven is full of shit. lol.) but then he connects this whole conversation about raven back to what happened after the match: "you're a tough egg, kiddo. don't let this tournament thing getcha down. you had a slip-up; sometimes bad things just happen."
implicitly: yang isn't crazy. what she saw on the train was real, a product of raven's personality and her semblance. sometimes bad things just happen. qrow believes that yang had the experience she says she did when she punched mercury. he doesn't know why she had that experience—yang doesn't either!—but he knows she isn't just "crazy." sometimes things that seem crazy are actually real.
remember what he tells the girls in 3.4? "you may be acting like huntresses, but you're not thinking like one." same thing here. he's telling yang, hey, you're not crazy, you know what you saw, but you don't know what or who caused you to see it. "you cut off the head of the king taijitu, but now the second head's calling the shots."
hint, hint.
it's subtler than the hints qrow drops for ruby in 3.12, but very much in the same vein, and yang is plenty smart enough to figure it out. she might... not have? in the couple of hours between this conversation and everything going to straight to hell, but if they'd had literally just one more day, just long enough for the wheels turning in yang's head to click together with what ruby heard from velvet about coco hallucinating during her and yatsu's 2v2 against emerald and mercury, she would've had it.
more... generally, i've never gotten the sense that qrow projects raven's flaws onto yang in the way that tai does; qrow is definitely a lot closer with ruby than yang, but i think that has less to do with favoritism on qrow's part than it does ruby thinking he's like the COOLEST uncle ever and wanting to use a scythe like he does.
'cause like, qrow isn't their parent, he doesn't live with them, he's not responsible for raising these kids like their dad is, so while he obviously did contribute to fucking them both up because: alcoholic, ultimately there just isn't the same degree of betrayal or emotional abandonment; he's not their dad. both times yang talks in detail about her childhood, it's "my mom left, ruby's mom left, tai wasn't really around, ruby couldn't even talk, i was alone"—she doesn't mention qrow. there isn't that deep hurt, that feeling that qrow is someone who left.
when he isn't drunk, yang seems to feel pretty okay around him, and qrow likewise treats her... honestly a lot better than tai does:
he stops by their dorm in v3 to hang out with both his nieces; yang is fully in sister mode—cheers for ruby to beat him until ruby loses, immediately shoves her out of the way like "my turn!! >:D"—and qrow ribs them both, takes ribbing from both of them in good humor, tells both of them "you two are gonna go far."
qrow nicknames to show affection; ruby is "pipsqueak," yang gets "firecracker."
we only see qrow's goodbye to ruby, but in 5.4 yang indicates that qrow came to talk to her before he left, too. she also has complete trust that he's keeping the promise he made to look after ruby.
yang, as noted, opens up to him about seeing her mom; she's also shocked that he's still in contact with raven and indignant that he didn't tell her sooner, but—unlike with tai—she doesn't seem surprised that qrow is willing to talk about raven in general.
which tracks with what tai says in 4.11: "despite asking him numerous times not to, i know qrow told you where you're mother's been at these days"—meaning, this was a point of contention between him and qrow. behind the scenes, while tai refused to discuss raven at all, qrow was going okay well, let me tell her then, she deserves to know. and then ultimately he just bit the bullet and told her behind tai's back. i wouldn't be surprised if it turned out qrow had been straight with yang that her dad wanted to be the one to tell her the important stuff, and he wanted to be respectful of that, but raven wasn't an off-limits topic.
general contrast between yang-tai and yang-qrow dynamics; for example both of them say almost verbatim "you've got a long way to go before you're ready for the real world" (3.4/4.4). from tai it's belittling, he's insulting her; from qrow, it's meant to encourage, it's "remember you're still new to this, you'll make mistakes, just keep learning, keep trying." (rwby does stuff like this all the time, refracting an idea in different directions to highlight contrasts between characters; ozpin's advice to ruby vs port's advice to weiss is another example.)
a lot of qrow's resentment toward raven is centered on her abandonment of yang: "did you know yang lost her arm? [...] rhetorical question, i know you know. it's just obnoxious that you'd bring up family and then carry on like your own daughter doesn't exist. [raven: "i saved her."] once. because that was your rule, right? real mom of the year material, sis." like he is PISSED on yang's behalf that raven won't even try.
my impression is that qrow—although a) often away on long missions in far away places and b) an alcoholic who sometimes got blind drunk and became a burden yang and ruby needed to take care of—when he did manage to be there, made a serious effort to connect with both of them. he ended up being closer to ruby bc she wanted to learn scythe-wielding, but i do think qrow would've trained yang too (or instead) if the girls had different combat interests.
and while his relationship with ruby has a mentorish aspect, i don't get the sense either of the girls see him as a parental figure: he wasn't part of their household, he traveled a lot, his alcoholism in combination with tai's neglect eroded the adult-child boundaries because they had to be responsible for him as often as the reverse. he's a friend who also happens to be related to them. and that's especially true for yang, because he wasn't her teacher.
(i know it's a... pretty common headcanon / fanon that qrow lived with them, but i really don't think that's supported by the text? whenever ruby or yang look back on their childhoods, the family unit is always them + tai, and qrow isolates himself out of fear that his semblance will injure those he cares about. plus ozpin sending him all over the place as the one member of team strq still active. it makes way more sense to think he lived alone, and visited when he had the chance. which is the main reason i'm WAY softer on him than on tai, 'cause qrow wasn't in a caretaker/parent role; at most he was an occasional babysitter. so while his incidents of turning up drunk on the doorstep contributed to the harm... it's like, it would absolutely have been better for them if qrow were sober, but that wouldn't have changed anything about their home life. they'd just have somewhat easier relationships with qrow.)
TO WRAP THIS BACK AROUND TO THE QUESTION, tai is unfairly judgmental and harsh with yang bc he projects his idea of her mom onto her; yang also has a better relationship with her mom's brother than she does with her dad. how do these two dynamics interact? how does yang feel about hearing from tai that she's too branwen, so to speak, while also getting along better with the branwen side of her family? how might that fuel her desire to find raven?
if her uncle treats her better than tai does, then... maybe her mom would too, if only yang could reach her?—obviously it's not rational, but like. i don't think five year old yang put her baby sister in a wagon and ran away to find her mom because she thought she would ask "why did you leave me?" and then get her answer and go home. as yang grew older and developed a more realistic perspective it shifted to "i just need to know why she left" and she projects that backward onto herself as a child, but at the time what she wanted, what she was looking for, was someone who would take care of them.
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hello, can you explain to me in more clarity your “waxen” theory regarding Ianthe? I’m not picking up on what this implies but it’s making my brain itch.
Sort of! Totally fair question, I just don't have a lot of clarity myself in that I don't have a fully formed theory lol. There's definitely some links and parallels in verbiage that are pinging on my radar, so I do think something's funky, but I wouldn't say I'm fully on board with this yet. I'm just playing in the sandbox Tamsyn has provided us, tossing out ideas and thinking out loud. But I can go into some more detail, and add some more thoughts that have occurred to me since I posted that last night.
(Here's a link to the post in question, for context)
Anyway! So let's first lay out all the times we get someone described as some type of wax. At various points in HtN, we get the descriptions "a shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture," a "wax figure in a pink dolly dress," a "wax figure in pale purple chiffon," and "waxen face" for Ianthe. We also see that descriptor used a few other times for other people throughout the series. In GtN, Harrow's parents' bodies are called "waxy" and the first introduction of Protesilaus (as the beguiling corpse) says he was "waxen looking in the sunlight." In NtN, Kiriona's skin is said to have a "weird, waxy quality," then Naberius's skin is called "waxen" when they first meet up with Ianthe, and again a few pages later it again references the "waxen, handsome face". What I'm getting at here is that every time this sort of description is deployed, it's in reference to a dead body that's been preserved, manipulated, and is essentially masquerading as a living person... except for Ianthe.
We also know there are a multitude of times that she's described as looking like a poor copy of Coronabeth. There's that "shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture" line, her first introduction calls her a "starved shadow" of her sister ("or the first an illuminated reflection [of Ianthe]," and actually, off the top of my head I don't know that we ever see their descriptions framed that way again... I'd have to investigate this more later, but this might be the only time that Corona is described as a "better" version of Ianthe, rather than Ianthe being a "worse" version of Corona, which is interesting), there's a point where it says "The second twin was as though the first had been taken to pieces and put back together without any genius. She wore a robe of the same cloth and colour, but on her it was a beautiful shroud on a mummy," etc etc etc. I know there's more, but I'm too lazy to go pull the rest of the quotes and you get the picture by this point I'm sure. So nearly all of these situate her, at least visually, as a copy or approximation of Coronabeth, and one that doesn't quite live up to original at that.
So now let's pick apart this snippet of conversation we overhear between Silas and Ianthe at Magnus and Abigail's dinner party a bit. Ianthe says she was born via "surgical means," which I'm assuming is referring to a C-section delivery (or whatever the necromantic equivalent is) and notes that Corona is a few minutes older. Silas seems surprised (or perhaps concerned?) that they "risked intervention" and Ianthe says Corona had "removed [her] source of oxygen". At this point Silas says, "A wasted opportunity, I'd think." I had always taken this for him just being a dick and implying he wished she'd died in the womb, but coming back to it with this new angle... well. She says "Corona's birth put my survivability somewhere around definite nil." And I'm wondering if that doesn't tie to Harrow's comment about infant deaths generating "enough thanergy to take out the entire planet." Basically, could Silas have been implying that the Tridentarii's parents wasted an opportunity to use the thanergy from baby Ianthe's death to power up Corona?
Harrow says that twins are an ill omen, but the text hasn't come back to that as of yet. Given the difficulty necromancers experience with pregnancy, I'd imagine twins would could be especially dangerous and that in and of itself could be considered an ill omen. Ianthe's comments certainly suggest that their mother carried the pregnancy, although I don't think we know for certain whether she was a necromancer. I am so intensely curious about the Tridentarii's childhood and their parents; we get so many gestures towards some really twisted family dynamics, but very little in the way of concrete explanations. Particularly relevant here, I'd love to know more about their father wanting a "matched set" and how that came about. Did they intentionally plan for twins from the start? Was it only once they knew they were having twins that that became a factor? What's the significance there?
Outside of those "waxy" descriptors, Ianthe tends to be described as much more sickly looking than even other necromancers. We know that necromancers on the whole tend towards a phenotype of physical weakness, but even still, there's an emphasis on this with Ianthe beyond that. This might be due in part to narrator bias (coughGideoncough) or the direct juxtaposition between her and Coronabeth's vivaciousness, but what really jumps out at me as contributing to this effect is how frequently she's described as being colorless, pale, washed out, bloodless, pallid, anemic, etc etc etc. It very much makes me think of the way the color drains away from Colum (and even the rest of the room and the others in it) when Silas is siphoning. Silas himself is also often described as colorless ("mayonnaise uncle," "milk man") but not so much in a way that implies frailty as much as I read it as implying a stark coldness, in line with the very black-and-white moral authority he presumes to wield, a purported "purity", much different than Ianthe's colorlessness. With Ianthe, you get a sense that her palette ought to have been or perhaps was closer to Corona's, but the color's been drained away; where Corona's hair is described as golden, Ianthe's is "canned butter", for example. Almost like the life's been siphoned out, one might say.
So to kind of circle back around, do I actually think Ianthe is dead or a corpse like the other "wax" figures we've seen? Nah. Between Harrow and Palamedes, and especially Palamedes's medical necromancy, I think we would have heard about it by now if that were the case. But I do think it's entirely plausible that she's had a bit of a brush with death and that perhaps she's never quite fully come back from, and I do think she's being intentionally positioned as somewhat adjacent to death. If their parents were wanting twins from the outset, perhaps they used necromantic means to encourage the conception. Or if the pregnancy was as high-risk as I suspect it was, perhaps she'd died or nearly died at birth and been resuscitated. Their parents may have gone to extremes to keep her alive, to maintain their matched set. Given the themes of this series, I do feel it's necessary to draw a distinction between "resuscitation" and "resurrection" although they are curiously adjacent to one another. For all the text has grappled with dying and staying dead, dying and coming back, dying and choosing whether or not to return... we haven't touched on what something like a "near death experience" would look like. I'd imagine having that sort of experience, even at an incredibly young age, might lead one to be fascinated with, to use Ianthe's own words, "the place between death and life... the place between release and disappearance."
#it was making my brain itch also!#thank you for indulging my meandering rambles lol#I’ve got another ask sitting in my inbox that I’m working on too… I promise I’m not ignoring it!#tlt#tlt meta#ianthe tridentarius#nona the ninth spoilers#ask#mcdreary#two halves dead
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There is this tweet going around which is getting pretty dunked on:
Start regularly recording your parents, elders and loved ones. With enough transcript data, new voice synthesis and video models, there is a 100% chance that they will live with you forever after leaving physical body. This should be even possible by end of the year.
And while I sympathize with the dunks, I also like to provide charity - there is no spiritual essence in this world, humans are diverse, if this concept is helpful to someone dealing with loss there is nothing inherently wrong with that. I have personal doubts it is healthy but context is a vast thing.
What is way more concerning to me is the way this idea intersects with the Web 2.0 paradigm of service delivery. If you build a digital simulacra of your dead parents...who do you think is going to own it? Unless you are hosting a domestic LLM model on your PC, which virtually no one does, this will be a service offered by Microsoft. You want...to create a simulacra of your mother, based on data from her life, and...sell that data and simulacra to a company who will reserve the right to utilize that data in any way they see fit?
My point isn't even to condemn that (I mean...), more to comment that...its going to happen. Someone's job at Microsoft 20 years from now is to be the data scientist in charge of monetizing their reams of data from the fake humans their users make. Fun...times...?
At least with waifus the ethical conundrums were sexy
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Kyoya x male reader omegaverse
If you ever wondered why Kyoya never really entertained guests it's because he was a taken Alpha.
Happily he was engaged to (name) (last name), the only Omega son to the (last name) tactical equipment and weapons company, the same company that supplied The Ootori private police force with their supplies.
Kyoya was absolutely smitten with the Omega who was in the cooking club, often bringing him sweet treats and providing the host club with it's fine treats and such, Kyoya happy it both saved the club money and he got to see his fiance every day for deliverys.
(Name) didn't know what to expect this morning when he came to deliver the cakes and sweets for the host club, confused on Kyoya not waiting for him outside but shrugged none the less before opening the door and bringing the wagon of treats in only to halt at what was before him.
There Kyoya, his mate since they were infants holding onto some Omega girl who looked absolutely smitten by him to say the least.
"What...what is going on here?" (Name)s voice was hesitant and a little shakey as he was unsure what exactly was going on "Kyoya and I are getting married!" The strange girl said love struck and Kyoya visibly tensed as did (name).
"...what?" (Name)s voice was soft and wobbly as she talked about their supposed wedding and such and (name) was floored at all this, did Kyoya call of the wedding and not tell him? Why else would he let another Omega so close to him.
It was common knowledge in japan that an unclaimed Omega doesn't go scenting other alphas like she was and (name) was very clearly distressed at this.
"Renge let me go" Kyoya said coldly, deciding enough was enough with this girls Otome delusions about him and when she begrudgingly let go he immediately went to his mate who just wanted to leave at this point, having seen enough.
It was often considered cheating if you let another claim scent you and when all (name) could smell was Renges pharamones he just turned and left, angry and heartbroken by such a betrayal from his alpha.
"God damn it.." Kyoya said annoyed, seeing the love of his life so heartbroken by another Omega invading his personal space and after going as far as scent claiming him not to mention the shit she said.
Since (name) didn't see the context before it would have looked like she was telling the truth.
"What happened?" Renge asked as she watched Kyoya run off "that was (Name) (last name), his mate" Tamaki said seriously, staring her down as she frowned "what are you talking about?"
"You came in and claimed him to be your fiance without any regard to his feelings or even knowing if he was seeing someone or not" haruhi butted in and gave the french girl a disappointment look that honestly stung more than expected "if you had stopped for a second you would have known that he was an engaged--happily mind you--- Alpha"
Haruhi didn't like being mean but she also didn't like seeing a person whom she considered a friend (and snuck her sweet treats to take home) upset like this and she knew he wanted to react but also didn't want to embarrass Kyoya like that.
Renge put (name) in a very hard position because she didn't keep her hands to herself.
(Name) went back to the club room and pretended everything was fine, the club members could tell he didn't want to talk about why he smelt like pure unbridled heartbreak and decided to step back.
Tensly he returned to working on his food when the door slammed open to reveal Kyoya scanning the room before spotting (name) and swiftly walking over "(name), come with me please"
"Can't, busy with club stuff" (name) said coldly, not taking his eyes off his food and Kyoya sighed "please?" He begged and (name) halted because Kyoya never fucking begged, he was far to prideful for that.
"Fine."
The two walked out and into the hall "who was she?"
"An exchange student from France who associated me with a video game character and wouldn't remove herself from me" Kyoya explained and (name) looked away angrily "I'm sorry I didn't act faster to remove her"
"I'm not mad at you as much as I'm angry about her not keeping her hands to herself " (name) grumbled "still my mate?"
"Until death darling "
Kyoya pulled (name) close but only to get pushed away with a confused look "you reak..." (Name) said and Kyoya sniffed himself "do I?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, how about I go change uniforms and you make sure I smell like you" Kyoya offered and noticed his mate perk up a bit at the offer and chuckled "you want to come with?"
"Yes alpha" the nickname sent shivers down kyoyas spine as he let his mate cling to him, the expensive collar he bought (name) to keep any unwanted alphas from trying to claim him sparkled under the lights.
"I packed in some chocolate covered coffee beans for you in the order" (name) said softly as Kyoya changed behind the curtain "made sure it's dark chocolate too" Kyoya felt his heart warm at his omegas consideration, knowing if he was this considerate to him now that he would be an incredible Dam to their pups.
"That's very sweet of you, how is the club going by the way?" Kyoya was very invested in his mates life, yes he did monopolize it but (name) didn't mind when someone brought it up to the Omega claiming 'if it brings Kyoya some peace knowing the absolute details of my life them I'm fine as long as he doesn't restrict my freedoms or anything' something Kyoya would never do to to the other, knowing how annoyed (name) got when his parents tried to make him do more 'omega' things like dance and such but Kyoya knew better and let (name) do things he wanted to do when it was just them.
(Name) spoke animatedly about his club activities, the club thriving from the host clubs orders and having people wanting to join now "it's really nice!"
When Kyoya came out in the sweater vest uniform option (name) practically clung to him and began scenting aggressively and making sure anyone with half a god damn brain knew that he was taken "my my, possessive are we?" "Don't use the host club charm on me Ootori" (name) huffed and snuggle into his chest "if course future Ootori" Kyoya said playfully, only really letting his guard down with (name) and eventually the two returned back to their respective clubs albeit begrudgingly but Kyoya promised to take (name) out after school so the Omega begrudgingly let him go.
When Kyoya returned, renge looked remorseful and Kyoya was on edge as she almost caused a problem in his relationship "I'm sorry Kyoya!"
"It's heard but not accepted, I'm not the only person you should be apologizing too" Kyoya said seriously "if (name) accepts then I will consider accepting it"
The young Omega girl solemnly nodded and Kyoya added "and I wouldn't recommend now because he's in his club and doesn't like being bothered unless it's an emergency"
The club activities went on with a little tension but not noticeable by the guests thankfully as Kyoya texted his mate who was making them a wonderful lunch to enjoy together, the Omega usually keeping him company while he went over budget and such for the club.
When lunch rolled around (name) came with two adorable containers of food as Tamaki whined about not having haruhi make him adorable stuff but Kyoya payed no mind as the couple went to go eat together, (name) claiming Wednesdays for him and Kyoya but let's be real the club would give him every day bec Kyoya always came back significantly nicer after being with his mate.
The two weren't really big on PDA in public but it was obvious the two were together, the entire student body aware of their relationship and that after high school and Kyoya attending university the Alpha would be taking over (name)s families company.
Kyoya asked (name) if he wanted to attend university because after high school they would officially become mates and marry but (name) shook his head at it "more school? Kyoya you know I hate the school stuff we do now!" He complained and Kyoya just chuckled at his mates antics.
Renge came up to the couple and (name) tensed at this, sitting up more and eyed her suspiciously "(name) I want to apologize"
What?
"Why?" (Name) wanted to hear her say why she was sorry, why what she did was not ok to do.
"I shouldn't have scented your mate and made such claims about him, it wasn't ok of me to do and I'm sorry"
"I accept but if you do it, I will as honey taught me 'rock your shit'" (name) said sweetly and Kyoya was wondering when the hell did honey the lovable sweet boy say that to (name).
"U-understood"
"Great! So how's Ouran treating you?"
It was like a switch flipped and (name) was happy go lucky and renge knew then that (name) was not to be fucked with.
And Kyoya was so fucking in love with his mate.
#ohshc anime#ohshc manga#ohshc kyoya#kyoya ootori#kyoya x male reader#kyoya x reader#omega male reader#omegaverse#fluff
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— wangi reads! non-fanfic edition.
currently on my bedside table, all read between friday 12th and today, tuesday 16th.
word count: 407k
wangi’s experience with reading the discworld novels (this is not advice, you don’t have to take it, You Have Free Will):
so, when i decided i would buy the discworld series, it was around 2019, and i didn’t have a shit ton of money to pay the international fee and delivery of all the 41 novels, so i did what any other nerd with a tight budget would do: consult reddit on the matter.
and i found this handy little thing, a reading list by themes/characters.
while i did buy all the city watch novels, i also followed the advice of a very good friend of mine and also bought Mort, which is an early book and also very good at laying the foundation so you can properly understand The City Watch arc, but if you don’t feel like it, Terry’s footnotes provide enough context so you can go along and get what’s all about.
that being said, Death is an amazing arc too, Witches? incredible. you will never hear me say anything bad about Discworld.
if you are someone who likes/needs audiobooks, you can find all of the Discworld novels narrated in Archive.org, and while it’s not narrated by the wonderful Nigel Planer, nor Stephen Briggs, it kinda works.
with that being said, i encourage you to read because Discworld actually changed my life for good, and it can change yours too.
bonus: Good Omens, narrated by David Tennant, Michael Sheen and Rebecca Front, you’re welcome.
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05: Finding my "Footing" as a Nature Interpreter through Environmental Education
Over the past several weeks of this course, I have spent a considerable amount of time reflecting on my own relationship with nature. Through this self-reflecting process, I have flipped through photo albums of family trips and journals that I’ve kept from camping excursions. I decided for this week’s topic, I would share my experience in Tanzania, Africa and how the educational journey combined learnings about both science and the environment.
To begin, I feel it’s essential to provide some context. Science education refers to the teaching of scientific knowledge and core concepts (Wals et al., 2014). Science education is often supported by environmental education (Wals et al., 2014) Environmental education refers to the teaching of knowledge in addition to the incorporation of values (Wals et al., 2014). The two disciplines support one another despite differences in their approaches (Wals et al., 2014). Science is most often taught in an academic setting, at a desk, with an expert delivering the material. They may reference the natural world, but the values are absent (Wals et al, 2014). There is a gap embedded in the educational system that, in recent years, has separated scientific education with environmental education (Wals et al., 2014). The values and hands-on experience I had while in Tanzania have been the most impactful lessons I have had in my lifetime thus far.
In 2018, I was fortunate enough to be accepted into the mission trip program my high school offers students in their grade 11 year. The program consisted of local community initiatives, classes on global development, and team-building activities. In addition to the humanitarian aspect of the program, my teacher emphasized the importance of the natural world and sustainable practices that the Western world could adopt. Tanzania and the greater continent of Africa offer vastly different climates, landscapes, and more diverse wildlife than what we are accustomed to. The people of Tanzania, specifically the village I spent my time in, rely on the land and their natural world out of necessity for survival.
One of the activities through which we learned from some of the residents of the village was the concept of boma smearing. Boma smearing is essentially the insulation of homes using a mixture of cow manure and sand. This concept was clearly very foreign to young Canadians; however, the experience was eye-opening in how the natural world can be used in the absence of modern technology. It would be naïve to ignore the fact that most often this was necessary due to the lack of income and resources. While being exposed to a vastly different socioeconomic community, this exercise provided invaluable perspective as we witnessed this community’s ability to use something as simple as manure to fulfill a need as important as insulating their homes. I utilized previous knowledge from science courses of materials and biological compounds and the sensitivity I had acquired in working with the village residents to contextualize this. I will always carry this humbling and intimate experience with me through my life in the Western world.
I believe that this experience was integral to my ability to interpret the nature around me. The experience both in class and in country, was the perfect synergy between science education and environmental education. I was encouraged to internalize and interact with the world around me through artistic exercises and scientific discussion (Hooykaas, 2024). The delivery of information I experienced was conducive to all learning styles (Hooykaas, 2024). Although my words cannot fully bring justice to the experience I had, the feelings that remain have motivated me to become a contributing member to the protection of our natural world. The local people of this Tanzanian village completed simple tasks of everyday life with such joy. This observation pushed me to do some personal reflection and signified to me that it is truly how you interact with the world around that can help dictate your quality of life.
I am curious if any of my readers have been doing some of their own reflecting on past experiences and whether your outlook has changed through establishing "footing" as a nature interpreter?
P.S. We had the opportunity to attend a safari! I wanted to share some of my favorite shots from this day. This Safari was in the Tarangire National Park and was approximately five hours long. The impact the wild landscape can have on the behaviours of these creatures was breathtaking and undeniably powerful.
References
Hooykaas, A. (2024). Unit 2: Teaching learners. University of Guelph. https://courselink.uoguelph.ca/d2l/le/content/858004/viewContent/3640016/View
Wals, A. E. J., Brody, M., Dillon, J., & Stevenson, R. B. (2014). Science education. Convergence between science and environmental education. Science (American Association for the Advancement of Science), 344(6184), 583–584. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.125051
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fic title: the council of crash test dummies. suggested setting (take or leave): at least a similar world to grinding gears >w>
For context for everyone else: Grinding Gears is a story I need to finish editing which came about purely because of something Vryptid's dad said which they had mentioned to me in passing. to be exact:
I then proceeded to write 25k words of story about androids, delivery trucks, working class people, job security/insecurity, and solidarity in the face of higher management dicking you around.
One day I will get it out of editing. I swear.
So: A Council of Crash Test Dummies. This is a story about car safety, crash test dummies who are able to drive themselves into their own accidents for more elaborate testing information, and the weighing of "This job sucks for us personally to do and we had no say in the fact we were made to do it" against "This job is important and we are (relatively) well looked after and treated properly for doing it."
The principle cast would have three androids, all whom were allowed to name themselves: The first is one who called themself Simon after the game of Simon Says. He is not particularly enthralled with the job, but it is all he really knows as he's a new model fresh in and joining the squad. The second is Vector - he enjoys driving and the freedom of control it grants him whilst he's behind the wheel, but doesn't care as much for having to repetitively crash himself into things for testing data. The third of the group would be the oldest of the crash test dummies, Noose.
Noose is the oldest model, and his line has been sunset: There's no more replacement parts coming down the line for him anymore. If he's crashed into something again, there's no guarantee they can fix him up well enough to carry on functioning. On the other hand, he has a wealth of practical experience and know-how that he's happy to pass on to the new androids the testing site have on hand. He's popular with both the human and machine staff as well, so trying to remove him from the site or phase him out of service entirely isn't currently on the table due to the potential moral hit. It's easier to just keep him on hand and hanging around, ready and able to assist with smaller tasks as needed. There's whispers between some of the engineers that Noose is able to handle situations more complex than he really should be able to and what that might mean, but....He's an AI. One who has had time to adapt and apply his own list of exceptions and if-then patterns of behaviour.
Of the three, Noose understands the most about how important what they're doing is, and takes pride in the fact that the crash testing they've done has been so valuable. Vector chafes at the fact he never got a say in the matter and never will: No matter how good he gets at driving, he's still a test dummy and owned property. Simon, two weeks old and barely scuffed by the standards of the rest, is still learning the social dynamics of the pack he's now a part of.
But there's whispers of unrest and rebellion in the machine-code chatter they share amongst themselves, and odd messages and commands coming in over the car radios. The city erupts into a flashpoint as a crew of construction robots go rogue and begin building a non-stop wall after their human overseer is fired with no warning or notice. Suddenly, an awful lot of taken-as-given assumptions are being turned on their head.
And the sites' engineers now have a lot of questions to ask themselves as the council of crash test dummies fall back on the default instructions that Noose is providing them for what to do next without any further input from someone else.
#ask meme#did NOT expect a Grinding Gears ask so thank you!!#very fun to play in that space and think things over
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Debunking the myth of the level playing field: exploring the notion of equality in English school hockey
England Hockey’s U16 squads were announced recently for the 2023/24 season. Of those selected 80% are privately educated.
On this critical issue the governing body, GB Hockey, are seemingly silent. This blog seeks to address this, highlighting the stark disparities which exist in hockey, as well as proposing realistic solutions. This is a discussion on the challenges hockey faces, where acknowledging the problem is an important first step towards future change.
Firstly, how do we know there is a problem?
Previous blogs on this subject have tended to cite statistics, illustrating the numbers of privately educated athletes representing Great Britain at past Olympics. Other blogs have also referenced Ofsted and their acknowledgement in previous years of this issue which led to the labelling of state school competitive sport as “average at best”. Evidence suggests this gap has narrowed but, not sufficiently to claim that the problem is solved.
Why does this problem exist?
Past research has identified a distinct difference in outlook between private and state schools which contributes to this disparity. Public schools traditionally use sport for character development and leadership training, in comparison to state schools which use sport more for health and general recreation. This Difference in attitude towards sport has a significant impact on the quality of delivery as well as the number of those participating.
State schools typically have only basic facilities at their disposal and have limited access to the high quality astroturf surfaces required to train and play competitive hockey. Moreover, they would struggle with the costs of providing underprivileged students with the sticks and specialist footwear needed for the game. This all limits the opportunities for students.
In stark contrast, private schools, such as Wellington College (Berkshire, England) offers its pupils ‘16 rugby pitches, two floodlit Astroturf pitches, a state-of-the-art sports hall, 22 hard tennis courts, 12 cricket pitches, an athletics track, two lacrosse pitches, six netball courts, a shooting range, and a nine-hole golf course'.
Sports facilities on this scale unarguably contribute significantly to the likelihood that already privileged athletes from private schools, will succeed at the highest level. Indeed, many privately educated athletes, including those within the England and Great Britain squads, are more likely to benefit from specialist and supportive coaching throughout the players development. They are often educated in smaller PE lessons with lower teacher-pupil ratios. This enables teachers to focus their time on developing individual athlete success, which is highly advantageous within the elite sport context as there is greater potential for student preparation and performance improvement in competitions.
There is one difference that is obvious, yet also possibly the hardest to provide a solution to. Parents of privately educated children typically have enough financial freedom to facilitate a more professional sporting environment for their children which means their opportunities increase. This is often combined with the ability to afford better quality training and equipment, along with greater accessibility to traveling for training and competition. Overall, whether we like to admit it or not, more money equals a foot in the door and that means the chances of progressing to elite levels are heightened.
These are not all of the differences but the most obvious ones to me.
This is particularly prominent and clear in my sport as a hockey player.
This angers me as talent is being disregarded or even wasted!
Possible interventions for this problem?
UK sport has acknowledged the gap across all sports, which is positive for the future. The new ‘talent identification and performance pathway scheme’ has since been introduced which looks to find and nurture children at an early age and therefore increases accessibility to sport and means that the talent pool for British sport is as wide as possible. This scheme is a perfect example of a positive shift towards better equality within school sport.
There is no simple fix, do not get me wrong. State schools are never going to be able to generate the amount of funding required to compete with some public schools. However, just by increasing exposure to diverse school sports experiences, it could enhance equal opportunities for young athletes. Introducing mixed school competitions could be a step forward, promoting more challenging and regular competition and motivating aspiring hockey enthusiasts.
Partnerships between schools and sports clubs for general sport have also been the focus for the government for a long time now in order to drive an increased interest for children with less opportunity which I believe is a really positive move as undoubtedly over time this will drive an increased diversity amongst high performance sports teams in the future.
An example specifically to hockey would be the new programme set up between, National League club Bath Buccaneers and its local state schools. A new outreach program, led by the mother of an under-12 state school player, has been established. The goal is to promote hockey in state schools, demonstrating its accessibility and the growing opportunities. This form of initiative holds great promise, and I believe that overtime it will become attainable for other clubs, through mutually beneficial partnerships between clubs and schools, to replicate the model across the country which could lead to a brighter and more fair future for the sport.
This is an issue that needs action now. Please help by sharing this blog to help spread the message.
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long NON RP RANT — about work bc the audacity!?!??! tldr: a girl who had applied and interviewed and confirmed her trial shift to be a barista last week and was V EXCITED so we cancelled another person for her trial .... showed up, said hi, chatted a bit, had a look inside, then said she was going for a walk to look around the area bc she isnt a local, and within 5 MINUTES (literally. five) ghosted, disappeared, text my boss and said “yeah nah bye”, and left me alone handling the whole place. cue endless work for me w double the usual customers, and a shift that lasted three hours longer that it should have bc of the ghosting.
rel context: i work in a small coffee & bagel place, two people on one shift: one on coffee & point of sale and another to be the cook, we also have two online food delivery providers so we take orders in person and from two apps + i’m a barista and have line cook kitchen prac & experience so am actually a ‘cook’ ig?
so i mentioned in my post when i was half asleep yesterday that i had a new person coming into my workplace for a trial today, so i stayed late to prep for weekend trade + restock stuff, and came in early to set up everything just in case. we were v busy yesterday with food as it was so i had a lot to restock, and w mothers day tomorrow everything needs to be topped up more-so. that a lot of work by itself to be honest but manageable in between cooking, esp when you have an extra set of hands when its quiet to help. look if you have seen any cooking show you might see that set up, prep and pack down take THE LONGEST ok.
— our permanent staff consists of me and K, we have two other locations so we get help from Z and J, and they can usually cover the shifts that K and i can’t (eg. K can’t do saturdays, i cant do every 3rd tuesday) but they manage other locations so they are not available without prior notice. so basically the only person who was available to work today was me, even my boss was busy moving house w his wife, 4mo and two under 8yo’s. —
this morning i’m at work at 7am, turn on things etc, set up my cooking stuff, open the coffee machine, nothing crazy. at abt 7:45am im chillin outside having a coffee and a smoke and someone walks up and it turns out to be the trial girl. we chat a bit etc, i show her inside and the machine (she’s a barista and i’m the cook on shift) — i say that i just heard from my boss myself, bc she had spoken w him earlier that morning, and he’s on the way and should be here within 5-7 mins ***technically we open at 8am but i was waiting for my boss but had checked the time to keep track & i had just text my boss back so i saw the timestamp***
so at 7:59am i head inside after i finish my smoke and she’s going to have a look where i told her there is free close parking for next time bc she took the train, at 8:04am my boss walks in and goes “WOW IT’S 8:04AM AND SHE’S NOT HERE lmao” (he did not yell it he’s a g - that’s just how i knew what the time was alksjfhg) and i go “no she’s just having a look down [street] bc of the parking i literally saw her a few mins ago” and proceed to open the doors etc. meanwhile i see my boss on the phone calling her, after a moment he comes over with a Whole “i cant fkn believe this” Face on while he’s on the phone. i’m thinking “??? i hope trial girl didn’t get lost in these lil crossover streets damn”
(it’s 8:07am, from now the customers start. they DO NOT STOP until at least 11am, it was at least double the normal turnover of profits during that time so thats ur ref for how BUSY it got)
boss goes “ur not gonna believe this” and show me the mssg from trial girl who basically has said “hi i went to ur shop, and i had a wander around the area and its just not good enough for me so i’m on my way home”. she’s GONE. in those five minutes. she got up, lied to me, and was at the nearby train station leaving. boss is floored and i’m like !>?!??!?!@#!#?who IN THE FK does this?!?!? but the customers so *professional me is present rn*
between her and boss there’s a little back and forth (text, she wont answer any calls) where he literally pleads with her bc there is NO ONE who can come in an assist me and she confirmed yesterday and she WAS HERE, she continues to be like “mmmm well ik that we discussed this and i said that i would be here and its been set for days and i applied LAST WEEK etc. but... no sorry im going back to bed” and then blocks him.
& this whole thing takes place between
7:59AM — 8:07AM.
i was there from 7am - 4:35pm / my usual saturday is 7:45am - 2:30pm
WHO DOES THAT. WHO IS THAT UNPROFESSIONAL. WHO??? WHOMST??? SHE WAS SO FKN RUDE I WAS liVID. LIKE. why LEAD us ALL ON. we all need to make a living do U THINk he can afford to lose a whole day of trade?? he’s got a whole FAmILY and his wife cant work rn bc she’s just had their 3rd child. i live PaYCHECK to PAYcheck. like this is life this isnt a game???? you are 29YRS OLD why cant u act grown
#ooc. out of ink ⋯ skye posts#( this is long bc it's literally my stream of thought and i needed to get it out of my head alkrjhfg )
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ethical dissection / to be lost
(clearing an older draft)
i've been watching a fair bit of Ghibli recently, a soft balance of the first time and revisiting. There's something in the world building that i think I've always noticed which now feels like it has become more material, that felt just slightly peculiar. How a viewer is brought into the world, often with a character or protagonist inexperienced in the fantastical norms being rapidly thrust into its fires, elaborates the setting and how it impacts their personal stakes. That foundation for a world is perfect for a person to get hooked on each detail and emotional beat of characters' arcs and growth (Spirited Away might be the best at this, as we all have been kids in new places once upon a time).
There is something about the existing politics of those worlds - the armies and the conflicts driving them - that always felt at least somewhat flat. Certainly not devoid of meaning - the frequency of militaristic lusts for power and how that brushes against more elemental/natural forces evokes very clear messages about real world practices. But what drives the lust or how the larger conflicts are resolved feels quick and without interrogating those deeper meanings a bit more. In what lineage was Muska raised, that formed his philosophy and entitlement to power, that Sheeta was not? Would it be so simple to end a war, that a Prince suddenly returns after his tenure as a scarecrow? And, really, everything of the real war left unsaid in The Wind Rises is strange to ignore.
On top of the personal narratives, the aesthetic reputation of these works has been enough for deeper critiques to miss some wider collective awareness, in my perception. I imagine it is up to the individual experience for the most part whether or not the question arises. Still, as a kid watching and enjoying Howl's Moving Castle, Princess Mononoke, and Castle in the Sky, my context and critical consideration was a bit more limited. I have gained those with time, and added them on top of my own nostalgia. What have I lost with time?
In the early parts of Kiki's Delivery Service, a film which a much younger me had seen over and over, our witch protagonist begins her coming-of-age by flying off from home in search of a new city. After this midnight departure and a brief conversation with a barely-older witch with a distaste for the rural sensibilities, Kiki is caught in a strong storm, and forced to seek shelter in a train car rolling along. I, really barely-older than a toddler, was left with this:
the feeling of the hay as she first touches it, a harsher but dry force after sopping wet clothes. then, a great pile of warmth as she covers herself for sleep. the slimy strangeness of a cow's tongue, spiking one to waking in the morning. the wind of morning as the train rushes along, with the sun and sea air warming and cooling in turn.
There were other imagined sensations, like the bakery's bread and falling through tree limbs, that I felt in those days - but it was on the recent rewatch that the scene with the train reminded of those sensations. That I am not feeling them now is somewhat glaring, and gives me room to ponder about how I have changed.
For further consideration on this film with reflection on growing, see.
~
I think a consequence of the information age (here, referring to the ready availability and relative accessibility to information that the internet and access thereto has provided, and how society is reckoning with that) is that knowledge has become somewhat of foregone conclusion in the eyes of most beholders. That is to say, the info exists out there - therefore, where a gap in the mind's awareness starts to itch, it is easy to scratch with a simple query or scroll.
Perhaps a consequence, or at least worsening symptom, in the new surgence of generative language models is that this illusion becomes somewhat more muddled. Where a searching tool pulls a particular line or for an answer, one understands that a chat bot is attempting to aggregate myriad sources. In theory, the specific/narrow result of single source is traded up for multiple voices condensed into a single, aggregate statement. The question of what is more true is, ultimately, an exercise with an intensity up to the reader.
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Blog 6
The author provides a vague definition of integrity here, only leaving clues to their concept of the word. In particular, the phrase “the parts of any whole” leaves much room for interpretation. I assume that the author was alluding to nature interpretation in the historical context; there are so many parts and perspectives to any historical account, and it is crucial to question which parts are being emphasized and why. When researching historical events, it is necessary to examine the perspectives and stories being told through a critical lens. In this context, the author views integrity as sharing all of these perspectives and parts of the story. This is particularly important as so much of history is told from the perspective of the victor. An interpreter must be conscious of this and understand their responsibility as story teller. Truthfully, while I felt that the train analogy was creative, I did not feel that it was effective. To compare a historical event to a train leaving the station, still existing in space, is inaccurate and does not do the rippling effects of an event justice. I think a better analogy would be to compare the event to a person throwing a stone into a lake; even after the initial throwing of the stone is done, the ripples from the stone will be seen across the water after the stone has sank beneath the surface. The ripples will fade over time, but until then, they will remain as a reminder of the throw.
To be completely transparent, while I understood the intended message of this quote, but I did not appreciate the delivery of this message. Nature interpretation emphasizes accessibility, understanding the audience, and being a true story teller. It took several times reading over this quote for me to fully grasp what the author was attempting to communicate, and many people simply will not take the time to do this. It’s very easy to get lost in the artistic forms of writing, but in the case of nature interpretation your point must be clear enough that people will take the time to listen and understand. A general audience won’t appreciate feeling spoken down to, nor will they be as open to a message if it is delivered in a format that is not easily accessible to them. There is a fine balance between expressing yourself artistically through writing and still ensuring that you preserve the important components of your intended message. The analogy using the train as a symbol of past events might have been stronger if the author had simply emphasized the importance of historical events in terms of systems of oppression still in place today as a result of events that happened hundreds of years ago. Although the train analogy loosely works, it is far more powerful to connect messages to current issues to create emotional connection and investment. The author certainly has a powerful message to share, but in my personal opinion, it would better serve them to spread this message in a less abstract, convoluted manner.
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CULTURAL HUMILITY
Cultural humility is defined as ‘a process of openness, self-awareness, being egoless and incorporating self-reflection and critique after willingly interacting with diverse individuals’. It has been an increasingly important concept in healthcare delivery, as there’s often power imbalances between clients and healthcare providers, especially in cross-cultural interactions. Cultural humility is promoted across health disciplines as it facilitates better and effective engagement between health care providers and clients and reduces power imbalances, resulting in better health outcomes.
While there have been many studies conducted on cultural humility in cross-cultural interactions, not much research has been done on cultural humility on people from the same ethnic group. Some people do not realize that there can be an imbalanced power dynamic between people of the same ethnicity. It could be because of gender difference, a large age gap, or that people are from diverse backgrounds and or generation, meaning their beliefs may not be the same. Or it could be from the perceived hierarchy that having less education means one is inferior to the other.
During these first 2 weeks of prac, without even realizing, I put this concept was put action. I was given a client with the same race, same ethnicity, and the same religion as me, but we have quite a big age difference, as he is old enough to be my grandfather. Upon initial contact, I had to eliminate the potential power imbalance, as it is known in our culture that in any context, the adult is always right and is superior to the young. Luckily, the client did not seem to consider himself superior and did not give me any problems. There was mutual respect between the both of us.
I informed the client about autonomy (the right of patients to make decisions about their medical care without experiencing undue influence from their health care providers), and client-centeredness, about how he has the final say in in decision making during the therapeutic intervention process, to remove the possible perceived hierarchy that patients should always do as told and question nothing.
While I may feel we both behaved appropriately towards one another and the therapeutic experience went well, there is a chance he does not feel the same way, and that is okay. There is still time to do better because if this week taught me anything, it is that despite all I have learnt so far, I still have a lot to learn.
REFERENCES
Singh, H., Sangrar, R., Wijekoon, S., Nekolaichuk, E., Kokorelias, K. M., Nelson, M. L. A., Mirzazada, S., Nguyen, T., Assaf, H., & Colquhoun, H. (2022). Applying “cultural humility” to occupational therapy practice: a scoping review protocol. BMJ Open, 12(7), e063655. https://doi.org/10.1136/bmjopen-2022-063655
Foronda, C., Baptiste, D.-L., Reinholdt, M. M., & Ousman, K. (2016). Cultural humility: A concept analysis. Journal of Transcultural Nursing, 27(3), 210–217. https://doi.org/10.1177/1043659615592677
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Ongcweti Besifo Sikashukela Diabetic South Africans
Pirates at present sit 4th on the league table however, with a recreation or two in hand over the teams ahead of them, the 6 point lead held by Randburg CC at the top looks in threat. Roshnee CC has the enviable task of standing in entrance of the Pirates steam roller after they visit the Rat Cage next week Sunday. Information concerning the races has been obtained from the Runners Guide web site and is updated on the time of publication of the newsletter. December is historically a really quiet month in phrases of street races. Dr Sibylle Moehl provides quality healthcare by ensuring that every patient receives personalised care and therapy.
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May you be comforted amongst the opposite mourners of Zion and Jerusalem. My darling mom; you'll all the time be beloved and so deeply missed by you ..... I love you Dad and miss you everyday.
Rest in peace my dearest Auntie Marcia. Your loving niece Arlene, Alon, Michelle, Danielle and Maya in Israel. Our darling dad and grandfather, forever remembered with love and mi ..... Will always treasure our particular occasions collectively. You have been a shining instance and a real mensch. Sorely missed and always remembered with love and affection..
My heart is so sore since you left us. To Andrew and Russell our thoughts are with you and we want you longlife. Will all the time keep in mind the many hours/days spent with the you and your father within the upstairs pc workshop. Our honest condolences to Lesley, Neville and Bernard and households on the passing away of your dear beloved mom and grandmother.
Like most people, Racquel has a virtual assistant at residence, which she makes use of for everything from inquiring concerning the climate to ordering groceries for delivery. Her virtual assistant can even detect changes in her temper, based mostly on the sound and pitch of Racquel’s voice. Interoperable, always-on information will promote nearer collaboration among well being care stakeholders, and new combos of services might be offered by present suppliers and new entrants . But these changes will require those who administer Medicaid packages to think in new methods to successfully interact with these evolving enterprise models. The potential profit for Medicaid’s roughly 74 million enrollees is important, as sophisticated checks and instruments mean that much prevention and care will happen at residence.
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Evil exists as a phenomenon and this evil doesn't only exist in people, it additionally exists collectively as different persons are influenced and concerned. And so it turns into a power that's greater than the person. Engela’s life bears testimony to that. The actual evil is, amongst others, discovered in the systems, institutions, organisations, golf equipment and contexts, which we now have ourselves created, and which at some stage turn into too highly effective for ourselves. For this cause, a large a half of the faith of humans consisted of being busy with these beings. If we cling to the mercy, the goodness of God, it will convey us to expertise God’s love, the idea of our hope and religion, more and more.
dr gregory facebook
The ladies went into the game with a positive mindset and willpower to play their finest. The first jiffy have been played with vigour, getting into the opposing D numerous occasions. This morning our Kingswood pupils have been fortunate enough to attend a talk in our Kingswood College Memorial Chapel by Dr Emmanuel Taban. While the talk centred on his personal life journey, the true power of Dr Taban’s talk was the fact that he informed our pupils to not only be dreamers, however to be doers. The highway to success isn't a straightforward one.
Sport is big enterprise and an necessary a half of fashionable society. At Kingswood, we are so lucky to be supported by a proficient and highly-qualified group and this week, we have been reminded of that. This talk by Old Kingswoodian, Ms Belz Mabandla will have a glance at how one should handle rejection. Monday, 18 October 2021 at 19h00 on ZOOM. Rejection is one thing we are going to all, sooner or later in our lives have needed to come head to head with. While it is never simple, it's how we handle our rejection which can decide how we move ahead.
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