#best blackberries I’ve ever had

[veryluckyclovers]

my partner picked me blackberries near the river by his work on his lunch break and.. I loved them

#best blackberries I’ve ever had #my art #doodle #drawing #silly art #art #dog #blackberry #fruit #procreate

[nancydrewwouldnever]

Advocate January 2009 Interview

Chris Evans: Not Another Gay Interview

Chris Evans is a serious actor, but that doesn’t mean he wants you to stop objectifying him.

By Brandon Voss

January 05 2009 12:00 AM EST

After working a whipped-cream bikini in the 2001 spoof Not Another Teen Movie, Chris Evans fried phone lines in Cellular and melted hearts as The Human Torch in the Fantastic Four films. Next seen as a telekinetic troublemaker in February’s sci-fi thriller Push, the 27-year-old revisits his steamiest photo shoot and outs his even hotter gay brother.

This may come as quite a shock, but gay men enjoy you. I was well aware of that. I remember my mother saying, “Chris, do you know you’re #2 on some gay list [AfterElton.com’s Hot 100]. Brad Pitt is #12!” I was like, “What?!” I couldn’t believe it.

That was 2007. I hate to break bad news, but you dropped to #8 in ’08. Aww, that’s outrageous! Who took my spot?

I forget, but Jake Gyllenhaal was #1 for both years. What? Jake? Unacceptable. [Laughs]

It couldn’t hurt to play a gay role next. I really wanted to be a part of Milk, but I lost out to James Franco. I guess if you’ve got to lose, he’s the guy to lose to. I did a movie called Fierce People where I played a sociopath who wasn’t gay, but he does rape a teenage boy. You come to find out he didn’t do it for sexual reasons; he just did it because he could. He really was a sick character.

I’ve actually got an idea for a gay musical sequel to Cellular called Blackberry Storm. You in? Absolutely. Sounds like a nailbiter.

I hear there might also be a queer subtext in Push. Yes, those with powers try to keep it under wraps. They’re being hunted by the government, so everyone’s trying to lay low. Now I understand the gay man’s struggle. [Laughs]

What’s the status of your Tennessee Williams film, The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond, about a 1920’s Memphis debutante? We took it to the Toronto Film Festival looking for distribution, and it does not look like that’s going to happen. I don’t know if there’s really a market for a Tennessee Williams film. It would’ve been a tough film to distribute and make money back, so it’s probably going to remain in limbo and possibly come out one day on DVD.

Do you blame Lindsay Lohan, who was originally set to star before Bryce Dallas Howard took over? [Laughs] No, not at all. To be honest, Bryce was phenomenal in the movie. It’s a shame that people won’t get to see her performance.

Let’s discuss your sexy, now-infamous 2004 Flaunt magazine photo shoot — and why you seem more hesitant to flaunt your physique. I really didn’t think twice about taking my shirt off at the time, but my current publicist would pull her hair out if I did that photo shoot today. If I got to a photo shoot and they said, “OK, we’re going to do some shirtless shots,” I’d say, “Fine. No big deal.” It never really occurred to me that that could be misinterpreted as a bad thing or as selling out.

Do you think those photos hurt you? I couldn’t care less, and I don’t think it makes one lick of difference. But I hired my publicist for her professional opinion, and she seems to think it’s a mistake. I have no problem taking my shirt off for a role if the part calls for it, but my publicist says, “When you’re promoting yourself, being you, there’s a way to keep it as classy as possible. Greasing yourself up and stripping down may not be the best way to do it.” To some degree, she may have a point. But at the end of the day, it didn’t bother me then and it doesn’t bother me now. Maybe I dropped to #8 because I haven’t had enough shirtless photo shoots lately. I’m blaming my publicist. [Laughs]

When you need an ego boost, do you ever watch the Chris Evans tribute videos on YouTube? No, I just call my mother. When you’re feeling depressed, you talk to her for 20 minutes and you think your shit doesn’t stink. And you can quote me on that.

I read on PerezHilton.com that your younger brother Scott is gay. Yes, I do have a gay brother. I’m down with the gays. Mostly I’m hanging out with him and his gay buddies, who are fucking hilarious. They’re the funniest people I know.

Do they take you to gay bars? They’ve invited me out to gay bars before, and I said, “Look, guys, I’ve got to draw the line there.” That’s where a photo will get taken, it will run in magazines, and before you know it, I’ll be living down the gay rumor for the rest of my life.

Does your brother look anything like you? He does, but he’s about an inch taller and about four shades tanner than I am. He’s a very fit young man. Believe me, he does quite well for himself.

How did he come out to you? He was really nervous. He came out to all of us very slowly. His first year at NYU, he came out to our mother and our sister, and then he came out to me a little later. I was driving him back to New York City for school. We spent the whole day together, got to the city, had some beers in my hotel room, got into a really great talk, and he came out. I was so glad that he did. That’s got to be a difficult transition, but I come from the most liberal household you have ever heard of. And for some reason, gay men are just drawn to my mother. She’s a cool chick. I think, like, six men have come out to her. I guess they just feel so comfortable with her, and before you know it, they’re coming out of the closet. I think my mother was praying for us to be gay, so at least she got one of us.

Growing up, when was the first time you realized that you weren’t gay? When I had a crush on my babysitter, who lived with us for a few years. I must’ve been 10 or 11. I was just head-over-heels in love with her. I thought she was the greatest thing in the world. Then I had a really big crush on Kim Cattrall in Mannequin. I was in love with her too.

In May 2008, you were photographed wearing a T-shirt with an image of two girls making out. Was that your way of showing support for gay marriage? My buddy owns a clothing line in L.A, and that’s one of the T-shirts that he makes. To be completely honest, I threw it on without really taking a close enough look at it. On that day I ended up getting photographed at a clothing store — which rarely happens to me — and then on the way home, I get in a car accident. So I’m dealing with police, the ambulance, taking down names and numbers, all while wearing a shirt with two women tonguing each other. It was a rough day. As for gay marriage, it’s mindboggling and appalling that human beings are being denied civil rights in this country. But time will heal all. I have to believe that in 10 years we won’t be having this conversation. We’ll be having another one, because we’ll always find someone to persecute.

2008 was arguably the Year of the Man-crush. Who was yours? My buddies always tell me that I have a man-crush on Brad Pitt. What can I say? The guy’s great. I think he’s a great fuckin’ actor, and he’s versatile as all hell. I’ve never seen a movie I didn’t like him in. So I guess he’s my man-crush.

When I interviewed Milo Ventimiglia for The Advocate, he told me about performing “I Will Survive” in drag for the short-lived 2000 TV series Opposite Sex. He failed to mention that you were one of his two backup dancers. [Laughs] I’ll tell you the worst part. Milo and Kyle [Howard] look like the ugliest transvestites in the world; meanwhile, I think I pass! I look like an alright-looking woman! It was horrible walking from the makeup trailer to the set. I was ogled, getting catcalls, and being sized-up. It was very demeaning. I could definitely relate to what women must go through.

Have you done drag since? No. Unless you want to count the blue tights in Fantastic Four.

By the way, “flame on!” was typically reserved for flamboyant homosexuals before you stole it as your Fantastic Four catchphrase. Sorry, guys. Well, you knocked me down to #8. I had to steal something.

#interview #2009 #advocate interview #chris evans #scott evans

[moraygrotto]

scenario/fic commission!!

this is a stuffing + hiccuping story with non-specified characters (A&B) commissioned by a lovely patron of the arts who wished to remain anonymous!!

A is a were-bear preparing for hibernation and B is their very caring partner :3

~🐻~

Part of being a were-bear meant living with one’s ursine tendencies. For Character A, that meant a strong feeling of hunger gnawed at the back of their mind every fall, followed by hibernation for the long, cold winter.

Only a few times since becoming a were-bear had A’s stomach truly felt full during this time of year. “You poor dear,” fussed their partner, Character B, upon learning this fact. “I can’t imagine how starving you must feel.”

A had assured B that they had been eating plenty, even put on a healthy amount of hibernation weight, but B’s impulse toward kindness would not be so easily quelled. They wanted their partner to have a comfortable hibernation, to lay down and sleep feeling truly satisfied.

Therefore, returning home the night before their final preparations for the winter, A was touched but not surprised by the rich aroma of homecooked food wafting from the open windows of their house.

“It’s so cold out!” they called to B, removing their coat in the doorway and venturing toward the kitchen. “What’ve you got the windows open for?”

B’s head popped out of the kitchen door, and they waved with one mitt-clad hand. “I’ve been cooking all day. The kitchen got hot.” They grinned. “Besides, you could smell it from outside, yeah? That’s worth a few chilly fingers.”

A silently admitted that it had worked. They were hungrier than ever. “Don’t freeze yourself to death,” they said, tromping into the fragrant kitchen and shutting the windows. “You’ve–” They paused, not sure if they should look down at the steaming array of dishes on the counter. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

B came up to A’s side, and wrapped one arm around them. “This is an important time of year for you,” they said. “I’d like to help however I can.”

After softly kissing B’s head, A let their gaze drop to the dishes. Immediately, they blushed, and felt their stomach rumble. Some of their favorites were laid out in all their glory.

“I’ve got honey-grilled salmon,” B began, gesturing to three glistening pink fish crammed all atop one platter, “some beef stew with nuts and root vegetables,” –they gestured to a bubbling pot on the stovetop– “some fried fish with dipping sauce,” –a small mountain of breaded fish nuggets on a plate– “and I was just about to check on the blackberry pie in the oven!”

A took a starstruck pause before darting back, out of the kitchen workspace. “By all means,” they said, “do check on that pie! This all looks amazing, and the smell is making my mouth water.”

“I’m excited for you to try it,” B mused, opening the oven and retrieving what A could only call a work of art. The dough cover was cut and braided in an intricate pattern, surrounding a bear pawprint with a heart cut out of its center. B looked up at A, now with a matching blush. “I’m sorry,” they said, “is that too corny?”

“Not at all!” A answered at once. “You were thinking of me when you made this, weren’t you?”

“I was thinking of you the whole time!” B said. “That’s why today was so much fun.” They smiled. “It’s all for you.”

As A drank in the sight of the beautiful foods, their stomach seized the moment to let out a monstrous growl.

“Sounds like someone’s eager,” B said, giving their belly a pat.

“Just hungry as always,” admitted A.

“Let’s get eating, then!” B replied. “I’d say to start setting the table, but I think an armchair and TV tray might be better for this meal. Comfiest is best, right?”

The house was still quite chilly. Thus, as B brought dishes out to the living room, A built a fire in the fireplace, and retrieved a blanket from the couch.

“Get nice and cozy,” B commanded, placing the grilled salmon, napkins, silverware, and a tall glass of cranberry juice onto the TV tray next to A’s armchair. They themself perched on a smaller chair, and gestured proudly to the arrangement. “Your throne, my love.”

Carefully, A sank into the seat arranged just for them. B spread the blanket atop their lap, and a napkin thereupon.

“How are you feeling?” B said. “Warm, cozy, and ready to eat?”

A let out a deep breath, relaxing all their muscles and succumbing to the feeling of softness all around. They felt utterly held by the chair, the blanket, the aromatic dish of their favorite salmon, and B’s patient gaze upon them. “You’re the best,” they said softly. “And yeah, I’m ready.”

Reaching for their salmon, they dug in, paying no attention to their speed. The food tasted amazing. No sooner could a tender hunk flake off the bone than it would pop into their mouth with ravenous relish; A wasn’t sure they could stop if they tried.

“You were hungry,” said B, face aglow in the firelight. “That’s my hungry bear. Fill yourself all the way up; don’t hold back a bite.”

A was halfway through their second fish, when they finally breaked, looking up at B. “This is absolutely wonderful,” they gushed. “The honey’s so sweet, and the dash of spice is just perfect, and each little bit is grilled to –HIC!”

Their whole body seemed to squeeze around the hiccup as it burst from their mouth mid-sentence. “Oh dear,” they said faintly. “I… might have eaten a bit too fast…” As they sat there, fork clenched in hand, another hiccup popped out of them.

B leaned in, affecting a frown as they gave A’s chest a rub in the area of their diaphragm. “Why don’t you have some juice?” they said. “That might help.”

A obeyed, trying to hold their breath as they swallowed down some cold juice. Mid-sip, however, another hiccup hit them, causing their whole body to jolt. “I’m not sure it’s helping,” they said faintly.

“Well, that’s okay,” said B, continuing to rub their chest and tummy. “...You can wait for the hiccups to go away naturally, too. There’s merit in letting your body do as it pleases.” Something in their studied frown seemed to melt away. “Besides,” they said coyly, “all your body’s functions are cute to me.”

A was struggling to form a response to the flattery when their belly growled once again. “I suppose I’ll just –hic– keep eating,” they said.

Though the sharp edge was gone from their hunger, A still devoured the rest of the salmon in minutes flat. B’s gentle hands helped each swallow settle sweetly down into their gut, and they grew used to the interruption of hiccups through their feast.

Immediately after cleaning the plate of salmon, B swapped it for the very full dish of fried fish. This, A found, eating with their fingers, was still deliciously hot. The breading was crispy, and biting into each nugget unleashed the succulent juice of fresh-fried fish. “When’d you get so good at makin’ these?” they moaned through a full mouth.

“Just a little practice,” B replied. “I should make them more often, huh? You have that really cute look on your face…”

A tried to retort that it was B who looked cute right now, but the latter popped a fish nugget into their mouth the moment it opened.

A blinked, then hiccupped.

B grinned. “Don’t stop,” they chided. “Sate that hunger. Fill that monster of a belly.” Said belly squished beneath B’s fingers as they kneaded gently in, teasingly at first, then firmer, knowing just where to massage to help A’s digestion.

Carefully, A chewed and swallowed their bite of fish.

“That’s it,” B said, warm hands combining with the warmth from the fire. “Keep eating your fish, now, and I’ll go grab a nice, big bowl of that stew from the stove.”

A waited until B was out of the room, then paused their feast, pressing one hand into their belly. Right beneath their fingertips, their stomach churned, and up their gullet rumbled a low “bbbBBURR–hic!–RRRrrrpp…”

“Darling!” called B from the kitchen. “You better not be saving all your big burps for when I’m not there!”

Sauce dripping from the piece of fish still clasped in hand, A looked up in the direction of B’s voice. “Sorry…” they called back.

“I’d say the same of hiccups,” B said, strolling back into the living room with a big earthenware bowl, “but I know that might be a little harder to control.”

“Well–HIC!–, you’re here now, so I’ll do my best to treat you,” A said with a wink.

“How lucky I am!” B replied, voice equally flirtatious. “Now,” they said, sitting back down in their chair and balancing the bowl on their lap, “how are you feeling? Still just as hungry?”

A smiled. “Urp– Much less, thank you. Though I admit I could eat a lot more.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” B cheered. “I’m so glad all this food is going to such a good place. You’re gonna have the most peaceful hibernation ever, all curled up around that full belly…”

A let B praise them thus, looking up in between bites as they rapidly finished off the rest of the fried fish. “Ready for stew!” they said, body jolting with a pleased little hiccup.

After handing A the bowl of rich and hearty stew, B perched themself on the arm of the chair and wrapped one arm around them, gazing into the fire as A ate.

Though A was already cozy, the stew seemed to seep its soothing warmth into their very bones. The hiccups were not too bothersome anymore, merely soft little hitches that punctuated their sips, occasionally earning them a kiss on the head from B.

“You’re doing so well,” B hummed. “I hope you’re feeling good. I’ll feed you the whole pot of stew, if that’s what it takes to fill you up.”

With its autumn-primed capacity, A’s belly seemed to like that idea, in spite of the food already piled inside. A themself only chuckled. “Let’s take it one bowl at a time,” they said, then picked up theirs and drained its dregs. “Might I request seconds?”

“Absolutely!” said B, taking their dishes from them and scampering off to grab some more. The smell of the cooling pie drifted through in B’s wake as they returned.

“I can’t wait for dessert,” A admitted, looking down at their blanket-covered belly. “I’m finally starting to fill up, thanks to this delicious stew.”

“Hold on,” teased B, “if you’re just now starting to fill up, that means you’re nowhere near ready for dessert. Can you eat this bowl of stew for me first, my love?”

A obliged, taking the bowl from their partner and happily spooning it into their mouth.

“Your hiccups went away,” B said, almost as if disappointed by the fact.

A grinned, and wiped their face off with a napkin. “Got too focused on your cooking,” they said.

As they gulped down the rest of the stew bowl, however, they felt a tightness in their belly, familiar but missed like an old friend. They struggled to swallow the last oversized mouthful, before– “glp–HIC!”

“I jinxed it!” cried B, flopping forward and giving their belly a pat. “Lemme go get you some more. And if you’re good, and eat it all–” They poked A on the nose. “–I’ll let you have pie à la mode.”

“You really know how to –hic– treat a bear,” A said as B went to refill their bowl yet again. Washing their mouth out with juice, they felt the same press inside. Miraculously, they were full.

They yawned, and stretched carefully as to not bump into the tray. Their body felt pleasantly heavy, and they knew now was the time to relax. “Darling,” they said as B returned, “I’ll do my best to finish this bowl of stew, but I can’t make any guarantees.”

“You’ll finish it,” B assured them.

“I’m not actually sure if–”

“Yeah, you will,” they said. “You’ve got me here.”

“I appreciate your support, but–”

“Say aaah~” Alighting back upon their little chair, B held out a spoonful of stew to A. “Just gotta finish this, and then we’ll move on to pie. You’ve always had a pretty big dessert stomach, so I doubt some nice pie will cause any trouble. First, though–”

Obediently, A opened their mouth. A chunk of broth-logged beef squished on their tongue, suffusing its savory taste throughout their mouth. Somehow, food tasted better when delivered by B’s hand. At this tender acceptance, they let themself sink into the easy rhythm of eating the proffered bites, with time to savor in between each.

They relaxed into the feeling of food pushing out on their stomach, eased by the occasional burp, jostled by the occasional hiccup. It took a long moment thereafter to realize that B had stopped feeding them, and both hands were now tenderly rubbing their belly.

A blinked their eyes open, one at a time, then licked their lips.

“Ready for pie?” B whispered over the crackling of the fire.

“Only if –hic!– you feed it to me,” A replied.

“Oh, gladly,” said B. “Sit back and relax, and I’ll get you a nice big helping with ice cream!”

A may have dozed off a minute, for the next thing they knew was a spoonful of warm blackberry pie and cool vanilla ice cream at their lips, accompanied by B’s hand gently opening their jaw.

“Not many bears get this kinda treatment for their hibernations,” B was saying.

“Mmm–thank you,” A replied after swallowing. B had been right. The moment the sweet pie hit their tongue, their stomach burbled, yearning for more. A sleepy food coma, however, still clouded their brain, so they were grateful for B’s careful feeding and encouragement.

“How does that feel?”

“Hic–urrp– So good…”

“Ready for the next slice?”

A had not realized they had finished a slice, only in retrospect realized the warm fingertips placing a chunk of buttery crust between their lips must have been delivering its very last bite.

“Ready for anything,” A mumbled. “I trust you.”

“I’m proud of you for eating so much,” B said over the sound of their fork. “Settling down tomorrow should be a breeze. Just promise me one thing, okay?”

A swallowed a bite of pie, and grunted a little “hm?”

“Dream about me?”

Chuckling, A tried to lean forward, into the hand kneading into the rolls of their stomach, and B’s warm presence. “I’ll –hic– do my best,” they stuttered out, and shut their eyes. All the food now filling their belly was thanks to B. Of course they would remember them, even in their sleep.

“Good,” said B. They snuck a quick kiss atop their lips, then slipped in a forkful of blackberry pie.

#moray writes #stuffing #hiccuping #oh gnarly dictionary is saying 'hiccupping' can have one or two Ps; heres hoping thats the standardized tag lol

[boldlyvoid]

Breakable Heaven | Chapter Three: Emails

18+

Summary: Andy logs onto her dad's computer and steals the email of his resident genius.

Warnings: mature themes, flirting, Haley making assumptions, canon typical violence (plot points and script from season 1 episode 1)

Word count: 4.3k

Masterlist

The first thing she did when she got home that night was sneak into her dad's home office. Haley was in the master bedroom, on the other side of the second floor, so she wouldn’t hear the door creak as Andy pushed it open. 

Her dad wasn’t the best with technology, so his password to his computer was on a sticky note beside the screen. She types it in, waits for the desktop to load and then finds his email. 

“Search bar, search bar, ah,” she mumbles to herself while she works. “S-p-e-n there he is. [email protected]... w?” She wonders what his middle name could possibly be, but either way, she had his email now. 

She logs off, turns the monitor off and shuts the door behind herself, hoping it looked like she was never in there. She skips down the hall to Haley's room, knocking lightly before she pushes the door open, “I’m home.” 

“How was it?” She smiles, putting her book down and sitting up more. 

“Really good,” she can’t stop smiling. “The girls and I danced for hours, I’m exhausted.” 

“I’m glad, you deserve some fun with all the work you do,” she praises. “Did you need help with the zip again?” 

“Oh, yeah,” she walks over to the side of the bed and sits, letting Haley undo the clip and pull the zipper down. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” she pats her shoulder when she’s done. “Have a good sleep, honey. Oh, and your dads gone to Seattle for a case, so I don’t think he’ll be back tonight, can you lock up?” 

“I already did,” she admits with a smile, “I saw Morgan run out of Joe’s a while ago, so I figured they had something come up.” 

“Did Reid not go?” She looks disappointed for Andy. 

She shakes her head, looking as disappointed as possible, “no, I didn’t see him.” It’s not like she hasn’t lied to Haley before, it just felt weird every time she did. 

“I’m sure you’ll see him again soon,” Haley gives her a halfhearted smile. “Make sure you have some water and take a Tylenol, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”

She laughs, “thanks, goodnight,” she waves before closing the bedroom door. 

Her dads house was big, paid for mostly by the FBI to get him to move back to Virginia to take this job, it was more like a mansion than a house. They had a lot more money now than when she was a kid, it made her excited for her little brother. He’d never have to worry about asking for a new pair of shoes or have to reuse the same backpack 2 years in a row. He wouldn’t be the only kid on the field trip there for free because their dad talked the principal into letting her go… because it really wouldn’t be fair for her to see all the kids go on a 3 day trip without her all because her dad didn’t have an extra $160 that month cause he was freshly out of law school and drowning in debt. 

In her room, she slips out of her dress and hangs it back on a hanger, it still smells like Spencer and his apartment, like old books and gain laundry detergent… it was very him and she loved it. 

She gets into some fresh pj’s and she takes her laptop out,  it takes forever to load the internet, but she eventually gets to her email and she’s able to send one to Spencer. 

Andy: Do you ever check your emails? 

Dr. Reid: I’m contractually obligated to, yes. How’d you get my email address? 

—

His blackberry dings in his pocket just before take-off, he knows he shouldn’t have his phone out, but he reads her messages anyway.

Andy: I logged onto my dads computer and found it. Seeing as I don’t have your phone number, I can’t just go to Quantico every time I want to talk to you. 

He smiles, of course, she would break into her dads home office to talk to him. 

“Spencer, phone off,” Hotch’s voice rips him out of it. 

He hides his phone, “yes sir, sorry.” 

“I’ve never seen you answer emails…” Derek catches on. “What is it?” 

“Nothing serious, my mom has access to a computer now so I get emails from her sometimes.” 

“It’s the middle of the night?” 

“It’s only 10 pm in Vegas,” he corrects him. 

They drop it, preparing for take-off. He buckles up, sends a simple prayer to whatever's out there and he closes his eyes as the wheels leave the tarmac. He’ll never get used to flying, especially when he knew that a large portion of aviation accidents happened in private planes, like the one they used at work. It scared him more than he’d like to admit. 

It feels like forever before the seatbelt sign turns off and he can take his phone out again, just as he’s about to, files are handed out for briefing and starting their profile. 

“Reid, you’re up,” Gideon lets him take point. 

“His first victim was 26-year-old Melissa Kirsch, stab wounds, strangulation—

“Okay, wait, wait, back up, backup,” Derek stops him before he can dig too far in the file. “He stabbed her, then strangled her to finish her off?” 

“Other way around,” Gideon corrects him. “Why do you think he started using the belt with the second murder?” 

“Strangulation with your bare hands is not as easy as one would believe. He tried, probably found that it took too long and—

“So he stabbed her instead,” Derek understands now. Cutting Spencer off so he wouldn’t look like the only one in the room who didn’t get it. 

“And realized it would be hours cleaning up the blood,” Hotch adds. 

“So the next time, our boys got a method, the belt.”

Gideon nods and turns to him, proud, “he’s learning. Perfecting his scenario. Becoming a better killer.” 

The words make his spine shiver. Even if they did end up catching this monster, there were still 49 just like him roaming around the united states, just waiting for their next perfect kill. 

He used to wonder what would lead a man to pick his perfect target, was it just a perfect opportunity or were they all planned. He’s grown to know the answer was much more fucked up than he hoped. A lot of the time they looked like the subject of their rage, often a mother, ex-partner, their child… 

“The two victims don’t look very similar,” Spencer points out. Flipping between the photos. “Do you think they’re more victims of opportunity?” 

“Possibly,” Hotch takes a look at the victim's again too. “He went from a brunette to blondes then back to brunette, another blonde and now a red-head.”

“What would possibly convince all those different women into the same man’s car?” Spencer asks. 

“They’re high-risk victims, he abducts them in broad daylight without a fight, he conceals them for 3 days and then he dumps them publicly,” Derek recounts, “he has to have a job where they trust him. A cab service maybe?” 

“Call Garcia, have her look into it,” Hotch directs him. “Till then, catch up on some rest.” 

Spencer takes that as his chance to email Andy back, he turns away from Hotch, he takes his phone back out and types back a quick message. 

Dr. Reid: Even if I gave you my number, I can’t text on my phone.

Every few minutes he refreshes his inbox, and the light from his phone illuminates his part of the cabin. No one else is asleep yet, they probably wouldn’t sleep, too busy thinking of possible scenarios for the case, but now they also wondered who he was talking to. 

They don’t ask again, but they keep looking at him every time he checks. Even though it was the middle of the night, and Andy had been busy all day and she had a few drinks… she probably went to bed when he didn’t answer her right away. 

So he gives in, he slides his phone into his bag and he closes his eyes with a deep sigh, and then a yawn. 

—

She’s only been up for a few minutes, but she’s already logged onto her computer to see if he messaged her back. Staring at the screen with only one eye open as she typed her response.

Andy: thats a shame, you should get one of those new blackberry’s then we can BBM

She moves her laptop to the side and throws the covers off, completely forgetting when she actually went to sleep last night, she woke up in the same position she laid down in originally… 

By the time she’s done her morning routine in the bathroom and back in her bed, Spencer’s sent her a pretty lengthy reply.

Dr. Reid: everyone’s wondering why I keep checking my email on my work blackberry every 20 minutes. Legally I’m not allowed to use BBM on this one, it’s in my contract. But I can see if I can get a new one when I’m done with this case. 

I had to go get Gideon from the college and they’re making him go back into the field today, I’m sure you know what happened… I’m not sure if he’s ready, he’s really on edge today, we have only a few hours left to find this girl, so if I don’t answer you, that’s why. 

I’ll email you when I’m on my way back if you’d like? Not sure how much contact is too much contact… so this email is probably already too much, but, it’s nice talking to you. 

It makes her smile uncontrollably, it was so incredibly nice to talk with him. Like having a best friend but better. 

Andy: you can email me as many times as you want. I genuinely really like talking to you too. I heard the president and the secret service use BBM cause it can’t be hacked, is that true? I feel like that’s a little fact you’d know. 

I really enjoyed our time yesterday, if we had more time I would’ve liked to talk a bit more but what happened instead was nice. I’d like to see you again sometime soon, but my exams start this week. I have 2 finals, a paper and 1 more lab to finish. Masters degrees are no joke… I can’t believe you have 3 Ph.D.’s… how did you not die of stress? Is your heart okay?

She hits send before she can go too far and embarrass herself. She really wanted to tell him that he could have hers. But she had to hold back. 

This was just a fun thing between two young adults, she wanted to help him experience the wonders of womanhood while also having a few pay-off moments for herself… If no one got murdered last night, she might have had one of them. 

But he’s a busy boy. He’s the BAU’s golden child, their new shiny toy, so he couldn’t always reply right away. After about 40 minutes of refreshing and googling him in the meantime, she makes her way down to the kitchen for breakfast. 

“Mornin’, hun,” Haley smiles, behind the counter mixing a bowl of ingredients. “I woke up needing waffles, do you want some?” 

“Sure,” she takes a seat at the counter. “Do you want me to do it, you shouldn’t be walking around?” 

She shrugs, “I don’t think I need to be… I’m not going to go into early labour, and if I did, it’s probably because he’s measuring a lot bigger than he should be. Who knows when I got pregnant, anyway… the last time we tried, Aaron was so horny all the time—”

“Ew,” she doesn’t want to hear more. 

“After the night you had, you’re going to say ew?” She teases, giving her a knowing smirk. 

“What do you mean?” Andy goes whiter than a sheet of paper, feeling like Spencer caved and the news had already traveled back home. 

“You smelled like sex and someones cologne, your lipstick was gone, I didn’t do the little clip up at the back of your dress when I sent you out and yet you came home with it clipped up…” Haley has clearly spent too much time with her dad, now she’s able to profile too. 

She stutters, trying to think of something to say, but there’s nothing. She slowly grows more embarrassed, the colour comes back to her cheeks, flushing a deep magenta. 

“So, who was he?” Haley gets back to cooking, pouring the batter onto the waffle iron. 

“I can’t tell you,” she whispers. “Because I know you tell my dad everything even if I asked you not to, and I really want to keep this to myself for a bit…” 

“Is it a girl?” Haley whispers. “Oh, I’m sorry. Aaron told me this might happen, it’s okay, you can come out when you’re ready and I’ll just pretend it’s new information.” 

She laughs, a little too hard, “what?” 

“Well, with you playing softball and curling… and after Peter, there weren’t any boys around but you were sneaking out, plus Jasmine smiles at you a lot when she’s here…” 

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I like girls like that yet… but no, it wasn’t a girl I went home with last night.” 

It’s a weird sentence to say, she never thought it would be something brought up in her house… it was a common misconception at school, being called Andy and wearing suits more than dresses to interviews and events. She’s been hit on by female agents at the bar, she’s debated it, but when it all came down to it, it was the agent part and not the female part that made her say no. 

“Oh,” Haley’s almost disappointed. “Well, I just hope he’s nice to you and that you’re safe.” 

“If you told him it was a girl I was seeing, do you think he’d be less insane this time?” 

Haley shrugs, a puzzled look on her face, “there’s really no telling… just wait for Jack to be born and then he might not have enough time to stress over your boyfriends.” 

“Jack?” She hasn’t heard them use a name for her new brother yet. 

She nods, “we’re still debating on if we want just Jack or Jackson, but that will be his name.” 

“I love it,” she doesn’t mind either way. Jack sounded like the name of her brother, it fit perfectly. “Speaking of little baby Jack, would you be okay with me making a mural in his room?” 

“As long as you run the idea by your father or me first, sure,” she doesn’t mind. “It’s less painting for me to do.” 

“Exactly, I want to do the whole room if you’d let me, as a gift from me to you,” she poses. “When I get back from school full time, I wanted to go to IKEA and get some things and see if Jas or even Spencer and Derek could come over and help me put it all together, it would be a group effort to make sure little Jack has the best room and you don’t strain yourself.” 

“As long as I can organize the closet.” 

“Of course,” Andy laughs. “I wouldn’t ruin your nesting phase for you.” 

“You really are the perfect step daughter,” Haley hands her the first plate of home made waffles, as well as a fork, knife and the syrup. 

“I’m really excited to be a sister too, genuinely,” she makes sure Haley see’s it in her face. “I’ve wanted this just as long as you have.” 

“I’m glad,” she tries not to cry, rubbing her tummy. “I’m really glad he’ll have you.” 

—

“Did you get an address on Linder?” Hotch comes barrelling through the office. 

“It’s coming through now,” he answers, monotoned, bored, tired. He hates the sound of the fax machine but it was his duty as the youngest on the team. Some might even call him their bitch… a lot of people did actually. 

His reason for joining the team was to give Gideon an excuse to come back, to entice him with files and build a trust that made him follow Spencer into the field. He knew he was important and yet no one else really saw it. 

Before hotch can walk too far from him, he grabs his attention. “Does senior management want a field assessment of Gideon?” He asks, wondering if he had to write a part of it or not. 

Hotch stops, turns around and walks stressfully close to Spencer. In his personal space bubble, he stands tall and looks down at him, “don’t worry about it.” 

Something in him makes him want to fight back, “are you nervous about him being in charge?” 

“Aren’t you on you’re way back to Slessman’s house to help Morgan?” He shoots back with anger in his tone. 

They turn away from each other quickly, but Spencer can’t let it go. He calls to Hotch, feeling like he deserves some semblance of respect with all the work he does on the team. “Do you know why he always introduces me as Doctor Reid?” 

The same name Hotch’s daughter called him last night. 

Aaron stops dead in his tracks and turns to Spencer, sighing because he knows he’s right. “Because he knows that people see you as a kid and he wants to make sure they respect you.” 

He takes a moment to stare into his eyes, asserting his own dominance, agreeing with what he said. He smiles slightly, it’s a silent thank you that Aaron understands. 

“What’s the address?” 

He glances at the page, reading it in its entirety in a matter of seconds, “I don’t think it matters anymore, he died in a car accident 2 months ago…” 

Aaron sighs, “I’ll call Elle, you get to Derek. Double time it.” 

“Yes sir,” Spencer nods, he immediately starts packing his bag and heads for the door. There’s a Seattle officer leaving at the same time as him, “excuse me,” he stops them.

“Yeah?” The man turns to him. 

“Any chance you can drive me to Slessman’s house?” 

He nods, “that’s on my patrol, hop in.” 

He’s used to being in cars with strangers now, it’s a big part of the job. He was chauffeured around between crime scenes and police stations, he has seen the same beige bricked walls in almost every state in America and the inside of every cruiser too. 

On the ride over, he takes his blackberry back out and he reads the last email from Andy. 

“I can’t believe you have 3 Ph.D.’s… how did you not die of stress? Is your heart okay?”

If he was being honest, he’d reply that his heart was defecting… it was in another place while he was in Seattle trying to save a woman he didn’t know. 

Dr. Reid: my heart is fine, thank you for the concern. It was a lot of work, but luckily I didn’t have these kinds of distractions back then… 

But you asked me a question. Yes, I do believe we’re allowed to speak with other government officials through the blackberry messenger app, but not with civilians. So, if you somehow can get a job with the president this summer, then we can talk. 

I also wanted to say I hope I’m not taking away from your study time? If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know, I actually know a fair bit about psychology. I know, that’s a big surprise to you (sarcasm if you can’t read that) but I mean it, I’d drop everything to help you study if you asked. 

Andy: correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you have a woman to save? My homework isn’t that important, focus on her and then me, I’d really like to hear about the case and how you figured it out later, maybe if you gave me your number we could talk on the phone instead… 

It doesn’t take much time for her to respond. It’s mere moments before he’s reading her words again. 

“Someone special you go there?” The officer asks, referring to his head buried in his phone. 

“You can say that,” he blushes. “It’s new, I really like her.” 

“I hope it all works out, kid,” he’s nice about it. He has an energy that makes Spencer feel like he can trust him. “Especially in this line of work, you need a nice lady you can go home to and fall back on… someone who doesn’t see you as weak when you’re affected by it, someone who just supports you through it.” 

He smiles at the thought, “thanks, I think I found that in her.” 

Dr. Reid: we apprehended a suspect, pretty sure he’s working with someone, we just need to find out who. The new girl on our team, Elle, actually caught him, it was really cool. 

It’s getting late here, we’re very close to figuring it all out. I’m on my way to help Derek crack the unsubs password to his computer, I think your dad was just tired of seeing me so now I’m being sent here. I’ll try and talk to you more later, hopefully, we get a hotel after the case so I can rest, and maybe call you? I miss your voice. 

702-555-0103 (in case you felt the same) 

—

She adds his number to her phone as soon as she reads his email. 

The smile on her face makes her feel like she’s 13 again and the backstreet boys were releasing a new single… she hasn’t been this giddy over a boy in years and it honestly felt so freeing. Spending time with Spencer was more rewarding than she ever imagined it would be. 

She thinks about him all day. Little things in her homework remind her of him and his list of degrees, there’s little facts she’s learning about the human brain that she’d love to pick his about. She see’s his face in her day dreams, the thought of his smile is enough to make her beam with joy. 

Even though there’s large gaps between contact and her heart yearns for him, she just can’t wait until they get to talk again. 

She goes to bed thinking about future dates with him, the things she’d like to do to him, both clean and dirty, her mind travelled through a million universes where they were happy and together and it worked out for them. 

He’s the first thought in her mind when she wakes up the next morning too, way too early, she checks her phone to see it’s 7 am on a Sunday and there’s no reason for her to be up. 

But she checks her email anyway. 

Dr. Reid: we caught the other unsub just a few hours after you sent that. We have a bunch of work left to do, but we should be flying home soon. I’m in my hotel room now, I get to sleep for 3 hours before the plane home, if you’re awake, give me a call.

He only sent that 24 minutes ago, there was a good chance he was still awake, so she dials his number and hits call. 

It rings twice and then he’s there. 

“Andy.” 

She can hear the smile on his face and her heart stops, he feels just the same way she did… which meant he might want her more than a friend too… more than a best friend even…  

Being Spencer Reid’s lover would be really nice. 

“Spence,” she uses his nickname too. “How are you?” 

“Tired,” he admits. “Exhausted, actually. I haven’t slept since Thursday night.” 

“Oh my god, Spence?” She worries for him, sitting straight up in her bed with a hand on her heart. “That’s not healthy at all, you need to get some sleep soon?” 

“But I missed you?” 

“That’s cute but after prohibiting your brain from sleeping for 36 hours, serious symptoms can arise, it’s not healthy,” the psychology student in her jumped out. 

“Talk to me until I fall asleep then?” He whispers. She can hear rustling like he’s shuffled down his bed and adjusted his head on the pillow. “Isn’t it early for you too? Shouldn’t you get more sleep?” 

“Okay, mister—

“Doctor,” he corrects her. “You know, I pissed your dad off today, well, yesterday actually, and reminded him I was a doctor…” 

“What did you do?” She can’t help but wonder. 

“He was treating me like a kid, thinking I didn’t know what was going on with Gideon and Strauss… It annoyed me so I snapped back and asked him why Gideon always introduces me as Doctor Reid.” 

“And why does he?” Andy ponders. 

“Because people see me as a kid and I deserve respect,” he states it very clearly, he’s stern and affirming, it’s worthy of respect. 

“You’re hot when you stand up for yourself,” she praises him. 

“Don’t turn me on, I need to sleep, remember?” 

It makes her laugh, “I know, I know… it’s too bad we can’t have a sleepover.”

“I know,” he agrees, “you’re very cuddly and soft. And you smell good.” 

“So do you,” she can’t stop smiling. Flirting with him like this, miles and miles away from one another, but still affecting the other's heart like they were beating side by side. 

He hums, “you’re right…” 

“About?” 

“36 hours…” he yawns, “‘m sleepy.” 

She sighs, relaxing into her bed with her phone pressed to her ear, “go to sleep, Spence, I’ll talk to you when you wake up.” 

“Okay, angel,” he whispers, and then he’s out. 

His breathing changes, it almost sounds like he’s snoring, but she can’t bring herself to hang up. She just listens, stuck in the moment… he really called her angel, as if being with him wasn’t heaven enough. 

Permanent tag list 

@doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @measure-in-pain @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @mggswhorificlover @meganskane @kya-li @reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @one-sweet-gubler @shirleyrose @reidsacademia @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spooky-goob @strawberryspence @thatsonezesty13 @lonewolf471 @a-mended-pact @ssa-uglywhore27 @hotchandspencearedilfs @venomsvl 

@fightingdragonswithreid @mortallythoughtfulgurl @allybatch @crypticcorvidinacottage @reidslibrarybook @mrsobrien888 @malindacath @simplyparker @gspenc @spenciesprincess @starrylang 

@1mechanicalalligator

@hotched @mrs-dr-reid @wander-lustbabe @scargarcia-magshotchner @reidselle @probablycryingg @stillsleepynat @ncsls0515 

@elhotchner 

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

[feyofmay]

Hello!! I absolutely love your writing and was so excited to see your requests are open!! 💛 I was wondering if i could request a platonic amy march x reader (gn or fem is absolutely fine) with the prompt "i missed you so much". i was imagine maybe reader had been travelling for a while or just hadn't been spending much time with amy recently, and they both miss eachother alot and just have a fluffy reunion! though of course feel free to go whichever direction inspiration takes you!!!! (i also don't mind whether its just best friends or reader and amy are siblings, though i am very biased to the latter)

Even if you don't end up writing this, thank you so much for the things you have written because I'm absolutely in love with them!!!! and of course an extra big thank you if you do write this!!!!

— aubrey!! (@yokolesbianism/aubeystawby) 💛💛

AWWW tysm!! Literally you’re the sweetest & it warms my tiny little heart!! Of course I will write your little request, but I made it a little different. (for flavor ;0)

Word Count: ~800

(not edited, so there’s some grammatical errors. sorry not sorry)

The ache of the youth spent in the twisting thorns of blackberries & dashing madly down dusty paths like deer fleeing from the maw of a greater beast is not felt until, when waking up one morning, her bones are stiff & wooden. As if, if she were to bend her elbow, she could hear a creaking sound from the rusty nail between her two joints. Ever since Amy had left for France to pursue her dream of becoming a great artist,- one who, in her triumphant cries, “would rival Renoir and Boticelli and Thomas Lawrence!”- y/n, the youngest March, has awoken to the splintering ache of an accosted youth.

To say she misses her sisters is an understatement to the highest degree. Everything is far too quiet without the constant chirping of her sisters, a never ending symphony of adolescent conundrums & complaints. Once an eternal twilight, with her sisters playing the role of singing cicadas, the morning had risen with their departure from the best. Several things, which she previously thought were silent, have now shed their fear, & the appliances remind her of her creaking bones with their squeals & whines. The only thing that ever eased her mind was Beth’s piano, a reminder that, although her sisters have grown, she still remains young & a girl.

However, one early morning, the noise of chittering like field mice in a barn snuck in from underneath her door. Like a puppet, her wooden bones acted in the same order that they always have. Planting her feet on the ground, she threw her- well, it was first Marmee’s, then Meg’s, and then Jo found it far too “girlish”, so it was lastly Amy’s- shawl, a soft blue & green woolen piece, to keep herself from freezing in the morning sun.

“Marmee! What’s with all the clamor?” Y/N shouts out as she rubs the last grains of dreams quickly forgotten, a gift from Sandman in the night. Their voice is scratchy like an itchy wool scary as they waddle toward their door. Before Marmee can even consider replying, a shrill squeal fills the house.

“Sister! How I’ve missed you!” the shriek makes the wallpaper curl into itself, & the pounding noise of, what can only be assumed to be, heavy iron weights plummeting onto their creaking wooden stairs grows closer & closer to the half-awake Y/N. Immediately recognizing that voice before she can even register the smell of fresh air streaming in from her open window or the sticky feeling of morning dew on her face, Y/N snatches the door knob & swings it open wildly with reckless abandon.

There, standing before her, in a voluminous, almost cartoonishly large crinoline skirt with tiers upon tiers of ruffles & lace-trimming in differing shades of porcelain blue & silver, her sister & part of her soul, Amy, stands before her like a statue carved from marble & opal. With a toothy grin that reminds Y/N of all the long summer days spent rolling around in the vibrant green grass by the meadow, Any doesn’t waste a second as she barrels towards Y/N & catapults her arms around her little sister, who is unsure if she’s simply still dreaming or actually awake.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you! I’ve missed you so so dearly! All I could think of was how I wished you were beside me. Oh, I’ve so much to tell you! ” Amy rambles on as she digs her face into the nest of locks that rests upon her sister’s head like a rabbit burying into fresh earthen dirt. Curling her fingers around the poofy & seemingly floating sleeves that hug Amy’s sleeves in ways Y/N didn’t know was even possible, the cool touch of the soft, buttery linen kisses her fingers like a distant memory of childhood that’s been lost to the breeze. The fabric leaves a tingling sensation that reminds her of the bells that decorate the Church during Christmas time.

As the folds of linen ripple between her fingers, it’s then she finally feels her mind recenter. The colors around her bloom like the first day of spring, & everything falls into focus. Amy is back. She is real & home & here, in her arms. Slowly, Y/N tepidly wraps her arms around her sister & presses her face into the fabric of her dress. Something hot dribbles down her cheeks, & her silent tears collapse into Amy’s dress. The rust melts off of her joints as she feels her youth soak back into her bones. Her sister, her person, is home.

“I missed you, as well, sister.”

#little women 2019 #little women #little women fanfiction #louisa may alcott #amy march #amy march x reader #florence pugh #mayifey

[cultofcreatures]

10 Scariest Movies I’ve Personally Ever Seen

Last year, I wrote a post about the 10 scariest movies I’d ever seen. I’ve since seen way more movies considered to be quite scary, and I have to say many of the ones on the old list I made aren’t scary to me at all these days haha. At least in comparison to many of the new and new-to-me movies I’ve seen since I made that original list. Some of them stood the test of time and remain on the updated list, but I hope you find some new recommendations. As before, this list is ranked and not definitive. Merely my opinion. Note: It has been a minute since I’ve seen some of these, so the trigger warning lists are not exhaustive.

10. Buried (2010)

Genres: Psychological, thriller

A civilian truck driver in Iraq must work against the clock to get himself out of a buried coffin with little more than a lighter and a Blackberry. 

Everything about this film is stressful. It starts stressful and doesn’t let up for the entire runtime. If you’re claustrophobic, maybe skip this one.

TW: claustrophobia

Streaming: HBO Max

9. Gaia (2021)

Genres: Horror, thriller, fantasy

A South African forestry employee takes shelter with survivalists after being attacked by mysterious creatures in the woods.

I don’t want to spoil too much, but I will just say I had a nightmare about plants growing out of the bottoms of my feet when I was a kid that sort of scarred me for life, and this movie plays on that fear. Admittedly, it is a personal reason why I find it so scary, but nonetheless, it is sure to make your skin crawl.

TW: body horror

Streaming: Hulu

8. See For Me (2021)

Genres: Thriller

A newly blind cat sitter is forced to rely on a seeing eye app in order to defend herself against dangerous intruders in the house she’s watching and unfamiliar with.

Home invasion is something that really gets under my skin personally, and I can’t imagine how terrifying it would be to have to navigate a situation like that while you’re losing the use of one of your senses. It’s not the best movie on this list, but it is quite tense.

TW: home invasion, violence

Streaming: Shudder

7. Last Night in Soho (2021)

Genres: Horror, thriller

A young modern fashion design student is mysteriously able to enter the life of her fashion idol, a 1960s wannabe singer through her dreams. As the student taps more into her muse, she learns not everything as it may seem.

On paper, it doesn’t necessarily sound terrifying, but it gets scarier and scarier as the story unfolds. Again, I don’t wanna spoil too much.

TW: SA, violence

Streaming: HBO Max

6. Host (2020)

Genres: Horror, found footage, supernatural

A group of friends hold a seance over Zoom to entertain themselves and spend time together during lockdown when a malicious spirit starts messing with them.

I’ll just leave what I typed for the original post: This entire film was written and produced during lockdown. Maybe that’s part of what makes it so scary. It uses one of the functions we found vital to stay connected during lockdown: Zoom chat. How terrifying would it be if you were talking to your friends over Zoom, they were being attacked, and there was nothing you could do about it? It really utilizes the format for its scares with its “less is more” mentality. 

TW: gore

Streaming: Shudder

5. The Strangers (2008)

Genres: Horror, home invasion, psychological

James takes his partner, Kristen, to the family vacation home for a relaxing weekend away that quickly sours due to random acts of harassment and violence.

The realism and arbitrary nature of the situation are what make this film terrifying.

TW: home invasion

Streaming: Nowhere rn

4. The Blair Witch Project (1999)

Genres: Horror, found footage, supernatural, psychological

Three college kids head into a forest in Maryland in an attempt to make a documentary about a local cryptid for a college film course when the subject of their film takes an interest in them.

Your imagination is far scarier than anything shown on screen, but that’s what’s scary about it. You can’t see exactly what’s happening, and the confusion and uncertainty are what cause you discomfort.

TW: gore

Streaming: Hulu, HBO Max

3. Get Out (2017)

Genres: Horror, psychological

Chris goes upstate with his girlfriend for a weekend to meet her parents. Things are weird at first, which Chris perceives as racial awkwardness, but more and more disturbing discoveries begin to unravel as the weekend goes on.

This film is a disturbing reminder of how far people can, do, and would take racism. It’s also an exploration into how horrifying the loss of bodily autonomy is (a reality for some).

TW: racism

Streaming: Nowhere rn

2. The Invisible Man (2020)

Genres: Horror, thriller, scifi

Cecilia runs away from her abusive ex-partner, then soon after finds out he’s dead. Weird things start happening to her as she tries to put her life back together in the aftermath of their relationship.

Honestly, this is one of the most terrifying things as someone with mental illness, a history of being abused, and just as a woman. The camerawork is some of the best I have seen in my life. It and the music are *so* terrifying. I cannot recommend this movie enough.

TW: abuse, psych unit, self h*rm

Streaming: Nowhere rn

1. The Night House (2020)

Genres: Horror, psychological, supernatural

Beth is left alone to deal with her grief in her lakeside house after the death of her husband. Strange things begin to occur as she slowly uncovers disturbing secrets about a house he recently built.

I can’t really explain why this one freaks me out so badly. Definitely not without spoiling it, but also it scares me on a deeply existential level that I wouldn’t really be able to describe anyway, I don’t think. This might be one that you’d just have to watch and see for yourself. What scares me about this film is deeply personal. It captures a familiar desperate emptiness that I've tried so hard to hide away as my mental health has gotten better. It forces me to face something I don't want to face. But that's what makes the horror genre, dare I say it, something that can be so personal. It really is based on the life experiences we have that determine what we find to be the scariest.

TW: s*icide

Streaming: HBO Max

And that was my revamped list of scariest movies I’ve ever seen. And all of them are actually movies this time! Lol. Like I said, this is just my opinion. What we find scary is based on our individual life experiences. What do you think? What are the scariest movies *you’ve* ever seen? Are any of the ones on my list also on yours? Let me know! Hopefully you were able to add one or two of these to your Halloween watchlist this year. Happy spooky season!

#Horror Movies #thriller movies #top 10 #scariest movies #buried 2010 #gaia 2021 #see for me #last night in soho #host 2020 #The Strangers #the strangers 2008 #the blair witch project #get out #get out 2017 #the invisible man #the night house #Halloween #spooky #spooky season #happy halloween #halloween 2022 #tw #scary movies #horror #streaming #shudder #movie recommendation

[balkanradfem]

Basketry part 4: The Blackberry Bramble

So, you remember me dragging home all that blackberry vine, and figuring out how I could get rid of all the thorns just by running it thru a piece of old denim? They're now ready to be weaved!

After experimenting with raw materials, it turned out, it's worth waiting for the materials to dry, and then soak them, and only then weave. Baskets from raw materials dry very poorly, and become flimsy and weak. So, these have been drying for a few weeks, and I left them in a bucket of water overnight, and now they're nice and pliable.

I'm very nervous about this basket, because it's the kind I've never done before and it looks so cool to me! It's weaved with ivy originally, but I decided blackberry bramble would be okay too. It also takes 2 pre-made hoops, which I made out of young peach wood, that I was pruning recently and realized it would be a good basket material. Here are my hoops, and this is what you do with them:

They're going to be the frame of the basket! I fastened these with a thin piece of blackberry vine, and the next step is to make a specific type of weave to keep them together, called 'God's Eye', which I find very cool. Here's how it looks!

I was intimidated by this until I tried it, and then it turned out to be the simplest, most instinctive thing ever. Next step is to put ribs in the basket! These are also young peach branches. I was worried how they're going to stay still in there, and then it turned out, god's eye is perfect for holding ribs, I did not have any trouble at all keeping them tight in there.

And the last step, you can already see started in the picture, is to weave the vine around the god's eye, and then from one side of the basket to another, all the way until you're finished. It's a bit finnicky because you have to pull the entire vine thru the ribs, every time, but once you get a hang of it, it's fun to do it!

I had trouble because as I came close to the middle of it, I realized I wouldn't have enough blackberry bramble to finish it up! I felt as if I gathered soo many, but in the end, it was barely enough to scrap one basket together.

The first picture is when I started panicking for real, and the second shows just how close I was to finishing it. It's not super noticeable that there's some bramble missing, so I just decided to go ahead and call it finished. Here it is!

There's a lot of room for improvement here, but it's absolutely the best basket I've made out of wild materials so far, and I'm so happy about it! I might do a few more, but, this time, I'll make sure to gather enough bramble.

You can find the detailed instructions to make the basket here!

#basketry #blackberry bramble #learning to weave #weaving baskets #wild baskets

[otaku-girl-ao3]

20 questions for fic writers

This seemed like fun 😅💖

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

39 on AO3 (I’ve still got so many I never bothered to port across and probably never will 😅 All of my new stuff goes on here though!)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

512,495 uploaded so far (though I’ve got quite a backlog still to edit and upload).

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Wonka (2023), Undertale, BNHA, You me and the Apocalypse at the moment. Maybe I’ll go back to MCU, LoTR and Witcher someday. I am really, really tempted to start writing for more Mathew Baynton related fandoms; I am utterly obsessed with Ghosts at the moment as a reader 😅 I need more Thomas/Pat, Thomas/Julian, and Pat/Cap in my life! 🔥

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Twelve steps - 2,927 kudos - MCU, post civil-war, following the twelve steps of grief after a physical injury changes Tony’s life forever. 

Unleashed - 1,274 kudos - Undertale, fellswap, shameless reader/Mutt/BlackBerry BDSM fic.

One track mind - 840 kudos, MCU, found family Darcy-centric Drabble. 

Unforgivable - 628 kudos, Hobbit, post-canon everyone lives fix-it.

Taking the me out of teamwork - 602 kudos, MCU, Tony leaving the avengers Drabble. 

5. Do you respond to comments? Why? Why not?

I now do my best to respond to every comment I get on every fic. I used to worry it was weird or annoying, but now I just try and focus on showing my appreciation for anyone that takes the time and effort to comment on my silly things.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooooh gosh, either Twelve Steps (kind of a hopefully ending at least), Dark Deeds and Bitter Choices (my first finished and shared dove), or possibly Three Strikes (which I will go back to write an even darker follow-on at some point). 

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Aaaa what even is happiness? Probably (Pure) Imagination; it’s just smut with a very open but happy ending. Or The Most (Un)Romantic Day of the Year (which I should up uploading in early April '24).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I got some for one of my Undertale fics where people hadn’t fully read the tags 🥲 That fic hasn’t been finished but hopefully I’ll go back to it one day. 

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I mainly write smut now 😅 80-90% of that is some kink of BDSM, fetish, or kink related smut. A real mix of long fics and one-shots. I feel more comfortable writing smut than I do fluff at this point!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I have started writing them again. At the moment, Wonka (2023) x You, Me and the Apocalypse (2016) is probably the most recent strange one? I’m also working on something Wonka (2023) x Ghosts (2019) at the moment, possibly with a bit of Spy (2011) and You, Me and the Apocalypse (2016) thrown in, but I'm not sure yet if I'll actually upload that one or not.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of 🤞

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I believe Twelve Steps was translated into Russian but that’s it. 

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not, but I’d absolutely love to! 👀

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

At the moment? Felix Fickelgruber x Willy Wonka (2023); it used to be Duo x Treize x Zechs 😅 but even back then that was a rare pairing to find 😅 I’m not sure if I’ve got an all-time favourite ship anymore; I prefer specific tags to ships. I’ll read anything sugar daddy or most healthy RACK/SSCK BDSM-related fics. Oh! Or anything with good, detailed aftercare.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

It’s not looking great for Unforgivable 😢 maybe some day I'll go back to it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have no shame when it comes to smut. I’ll try writing (almost) anything at least once. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Repetition. So, so much repetition. Editing is not my strong suit, though I try my best.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

It can be interesting if done well? Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it adds much to the story and can just slow things down for the readers (especially if there is no translation provided).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Gundam Wing as a literal child back in the 00s 😅

20. Favourite fics you’ve written?

Sugar Daddy? Call Me (Sir) has to be my absolute favourite just because it introduced me to so, so many amazing new fandom friends along with my absolute favourite discord server of all time.

His (Darkness) is the one I’m most excited about writing at the moment.

For A Moment is probably the one I most want to go back and do a sequel for, I feel far too bad about leaving Felix in that situation.

Dark Deeds and Bitter Choices is probably one of my absolute favourites (and ironically one of my least kudos’d multi-chapter fics); I think it’s just a bit too dark for the fandom which I totally get. 

(Pure) Imagination is the one that helped me get back into writing again, so it's got a special place in my heart.

#ao3 writer #writers on tumblr #fanfiction writer #my writing

[forest-valley-tours]

HEY DIXIEEEEEEE!

Who's your favorite person in the town?

And for blackberry:

How the hell are you still so beautiful at like what, 48? Man my moms 42 and looks old of 😭

My favorite person in town has to be my dad OBVIOUSLY. Like???? He’s totally the best person I know. And I guess Kurter is okay. 👾

Also fun fact. This festival has the best homemade beer I’ve ever had. Probably illegal or something but I’m loving it 👾

Oh thank you for the compliment darling but I’m out with my daughter at the moment. So all I have to say is that I just wake up like this~ what else can I say than that? 💵

Dad- 🍒

#ask oc blog #comic oc #oc blog #ask answered #thanks for the ask! #og story #comic ask blog

[achillessulks]

🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Okay, rude! What did I ever do to you?!

I had a great day today though! I got to go to the library hang out for a couple hours just reading, and then I went to the used book store and found 15 books to get that were super affordable (including a couple I’ve been wanting for a while). Plus I had a really good lunch in town; sushi and bubble tea, plus delicious blackberries. The weather was lovely, and I got some good exercise walking all around (and carrying all the books back home lol). Plus I received some extremely cute pictures of my nephew, and then later in the day I got to chill with my girl for a while (she’s the best and I love her)… overall it was a very productive and enjoyable day. I’m really fortunate, and I’m grateful every day for it. ✌️

#I can promise you that there’s not anything you can say to me *anonymously* that can genuinely hurt me lol. don’t bother! #believe me‚ I am way too vain—and on too many antidepressants—to ever be legitimately upset by strangers on the internet being mad. #overall I am a pretty happy and healthy person. which is directly connected to the fact that I don’t spend much time online haha #talking about books and stuff #asks #anonymous

[themarchg1rl]

🍂Weekly Tag Wednesday🍂

Thank you lovely @deedala for tagging me 😌

Name: Catherine 🫅🏻

Age: I am 28. I think. Yes I think that’s right

Favorite color: lilac or lavender!!! Soft purples 💜

What emoji best describes your current mood? 😵 I am very tired lol

What season is it where you are right now? autumn🍁 thank GOD

Were you up before or after the sun this morning? before unfortunately but as I got ready for work the sun came up ☀️☀️

Are you currently in possession of a pumpkin? I am not! Idk if I will be

Do you prefer to carve or paint your jack-o-lanterns? I’ve only ever carved but would like to try painting!!

Do you have a favorite pumpkin-spice flavored treat? If so, what is it? I don’t think I’ve ever had anything pumpkin spiced technically! I don’t drink coffee but I would like to try a cookie maybe 🍪

What's your favorite season and what's your favorite pie that you associate with it? Definitely autumn. Hmm we don’t really do pies so I will say a seasonal pudding, apple and blackberry crumble. With a scoop of vanilla ice cream. YUM.

We're having a pot-luck, what are you going to bring? Uhhhh do I have to make it myself?? Cheesecake. If not then I’ll bring crisps and nice bread 🥖🥖

It's chilly outside and you need a hot drink in your hands, what are you drinking? Cuppa tea. Always.

Will you be wearing a costume for Halloween? Is it ready? Oh definitely not lol. I like seeing the costumes that other people make though 🦸‍♀️🧙‍♀️🧛‍♂️

Finally, what's something you've made or done recently that you're proud of? I finally sorted out a bookshelf so I have unpacked 2 boxes of books. And my room feels so much nicer. I’m also sorting out some medical stuff at the moment even though the appointments are uncomfortable and/or painful. Adulting is difficult!!

Tagging @thepupperino @too-schoolforcool @tsunderejon @astarionsass @amaralesbian @altlvias or anyone else who would like to play ❤️❤️❤️

#tag game

[wreywrites]

Tiger Shark

Part 2: The Sea

Chapter 11

We watch in silence until the hovercraft has removed the last of the three bodies. I add three X’s to the Dead Chart, then decide it is as safe as it will ever be to refill the empty water bottle. Besides, only Taffeta and Tychus are left of the Careers. Zalea is still out there, and she made it very clear that after the stampede, things were no different between us. She’s formidable, but against two of us, I am confident we would beat her. And that just leaves the boys from Three and Twelve, neither of whom I have seen since the bloodbath. They could be anywhere, doing anything.

And then it hits me. There are only seven of us left. I return to the cave with the water bottle and grin at Mako as I go to our backpacks to add the tablets to the water. “They’re going to interview our people.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Top eight,” I say, still smiling, opening the box of tablets. “Bring out the friends and family. Well, top seven, actually, since Tychus took out that other girl… Oh no.”

“What?” Mako is on his feet and at my side in a second. “What’s wrong?”

Silently, I hold up the second empty box of tablets.

His face sinks. “That’s not good at all.”

Before Elsie and Merritt said they’d gotten some, I’ve never heard of a tribute getting water-purifying tablets from a sponsor. I suspect that’s one of their ways to keep the Games from going on forever. If we can’t get drinkable water, we’ll get desperate fast, and then we’ll start fighting each other for anything we can get. It would sure speed things up if Mako and I were to now find ourselves without drinking water.

“We could boil it, you know, like how you purify salt water if you’re desperate.” Mako says, though from his tone I can tell he already knows what I’m going to say.

“The only one of the many items we need for it that we have is the pot.” I take a deep breath. “We’ve got two bottles. That’ll last a while if we’re careful. Enough time to plan the best course of action, figure out who’s most likely to have a way to get clean water, find them, and kill them.”

But as the day drags on, we realize that, for all we know, no one has a way to purify water. It would explain three tributes slugging it out by the river, being watched (and finished off) by a fourth, who did seem very interested in taking anything he could find off their bodies.

“Maybe that’s why Tychus killed Seven. Maybe she had some tablets. Or maybe they were running low and with her dead that’s one less person to share water with,” Mako says. “But if that’s the case, why wouldn’t he go back and kill Taffeta right away and then not have to share with anyone? Or kill her before he left? No, the cannon always sets everyone on edge, so he would’ve had to wait until after. But then why hasn’t he done it yet?”

As Mako settles in for bed that night, I add the twelfth tally to the wall and scratch an X under Six, Seven, and Eight. We are no nearer to figuring out who has water, and we have only one bottle left. I am tempted to just drink some of the river water. Maybe it’s fine. But maybe it isn’t. It’s just as likely to be full of some horrible bacteria or something as it is to be drinkable.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

The next morning I double-check my math from the night before. I don’t exactly trust my brain in matters of math while on watch, but I am confident I am right. I leave the cave and find Mako starting a fire. He plans on trying to boil the water and seeing what happens. I don’t approve of this plan, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I pat him on the back as I walk by.

He snorts. “Thanks. Never thought I’d live to see nineteen.”

“Well you’re sure cutting it close with this whole water thing, but you’ve made it.”

We spend the day sitting in the shade of the trees, eating blackberries, drinking as little as humanly possible, and trying to come up with a plan. Finally, while the anthem plays the end of another deathless day, we decide to go after the Careers.

The next morning, we pack everything in the backpacks and hide them up trees. We scatter our firewood back around the tree patch and dump the coals out of the pot, which we then smear with mud and hide up another tree. We eat a breakfast of only blackberries because the rest of the food we have is dried or salty or both, which in no way helps our dehydration situation. Finnick hasn’t sent us anything since the binoculars, but I am kind of glad about this because I am sure bread, especially the sweet stuff, would make me thirstier than I already am. Though I wish I had something to eat other than blackberries.

We each take only one spear, hiding the other four in a hollowed-out fallen tree. Having run out of ways to delay the inevitable, we each take a last sip of water and start across the plains toward the cornucopia. We don’t even know if the Careers are there, but we don’t know where else to start.

Halfway to the cornucopia, a tiny parachute lands in front of us.

I open the box. Inside, wrapped in some sort of thin paper to keep it from bouncing around and breaking, is a vial about as big as my thumb with an eye-dropper lid. I stare at it, confused, then hold it out to Mako.

He snatches the vial and twists the lid off so desperately I’m afraid he’s going to drop the whole thing, spilling its precious contents, whatever they are. I only know they are precious because the Games have been going almost two weeks and the vial is small, both of which point to it being very expensive. But Mako does not spill any of it. He holds the eye dropper under his nose and takes a delicate sniff, then smiles.

“We can go back,” he says. “We’re good. Let’s go back.” And he turns and starts back toward the cave.

I jog after him. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s for water. I forget the name, but they’re drops. You just put a couple in, let the water sit for half an hour or so, and you’re good to go. Just like tablets. But this should last us,” he holds it up to the sun, gauging how full it is, “ten days or so, probably.”

I let out a sigh I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Thanks, Finnick.”

“And thanks to whoever paid for this. We owe you one.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Four more days pass. By my count it is the seventeenth day of the Games. Unprecedented. And I am getting tired of fish, blackberries, and buffalo jerky. Finnick hasn’t sent anything since the drops for the water. In fairness, I can’t remember any Hunger Games lasting this long. I can’t imagine the price of a bag of crackers, let alone some cream cheese rolls. It’s a good thing we don’t need medicine or anything crazy like that.

Fires are becoming commonplace. Every day we see three or four scattered around the arena, never in the same place twice. I think we all have the same idea: lure the others to us, fight them on home soil. It’s weird to think of the little patch of trees and the cave as our home, but I’ve grown quite attached to this place.

 The next day we hear shouting on the plain, but never a cannon.

“I wonder what the people at home said about us,” I say that night as we put out the fire and gather the coals in our pot.

“All good things I’m sure,” Mako says. “I’m more curious who they talked to. Our parents, obviously.”

“Jade and Coral.”

“The fishing crews.” He laughs. “Can you imagine old Reefer on every screen in Panem?”

I snort. “Maybe they got him and Rizz at the same time.”

“And both drunk, if we’re lucky.”

Still chuckling, I crawl into the sleeping bag and drift off.

The night is uneventful. Mako says that a few buffalo have been wandering around the trees when he wakes me, but nothing worth worrying about. They’ve always left us alone in the past.

My watch passes just as quietly. In the morning there are several sets of hoofprints on the shore and around our fire pit area.

Mako rebuilds the fire, then wades out into the river until he’s up to his knees. We’ve had more luck spearfishing than regular fishing.

“I think I’ll go get more firewood,” I call, already heading into the trees.

“Sounds good. Don’t go too far.”

“I won’t.”

I wander through the trees. We’ve picked the area clean of fallen branches, so we actually have to cut firewood now, which is difficult with only a knife. But the work is better than staring at the fire all day.

I am on my way back to the shore with an armload of firewood and a precarious grip on my spear when I notice how quiet it is. How quiet it has been. It’s been several minutes since I heard any birds. I walk around the blackberry patch on the edge of the trees. The branches fall softly to the ground. I open my mouth, but the only sound is the sword slicing through Mako’s neck.

****

****

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Tag List:

@avoxrising @snow-dragon-rider

#wrey writes #the hunger games #thg: tiger shark #annie cresta #canon typical violence #character death #brownie points if you caught the foreshadowing or figure it out upon rereading #it was accidental

[breakerwhiskey]

057 - FIFTY-SEVEN

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

Another gas station today, right over the border in Wyoming and they had this tiny little buffalo toy at the counter. He’s sitting on my dashboard now, watching over the road as I drive.

Maybe there’s something perversely ironic about that. The image of a buffalo being forced to watch a paved road pass underneath him when the road’s very existence is part of the reason that he and all of his brethren got decimated in the first place.

Maybe I’m overthinking it. [click, static]

My dad used to get me all these things like this from truck stops along his route, stuff like this little buffalo. Some kind of tchotchke—a keychain, a pen, a magnet. Anything that had the name of a city or the image of a monument on it. I loved all of those souvenirs, would keep them in a row on top of my dresser like some kind of shrine to the great American road trip.

[click, static]

Every trip he always made he brought one of those things back for me. And when he could—when the season was right—he would bring back a jar of homemade jam for my mom. He would never buy it at a store or anything like that—only ever from a roadside stand. So it had to be summer, usually, and he had to happen to pass one. And then...well, I think he’d probably spend twenty minutes picking out exactly which jar he wanted to get her, because he’d only ever bring one back, but he’d tell us all about the farmer who sold it to him and the other types they had.

You know, he’d talk to the farmer for a while, ask them what their speciality was, if there was a jam they liked best, or if they had any fruit

varieties that they’d come up with themselves. The weirder, the better. The more regional, the better. Any time dad came home with a jar of jam it was like a little holiday—we’d spread it over toast for dessert or sometimes we’d just eat it straight from the jar.

[click, static]

God, it all sounds so provincial. Not that that’s...bad, but you’d think I’d grown up at the turn of the century, not the forties. But that was the thing about rural living, I guess. And I think—well, during the war, my parents got used to austerity. So even when it was all over and my dad went back to driving his usual route and not delivering supplies for the military, there was still the sense that every bit of sugar or fresh fruit was a luxury.

Maybe that’s why I’ve never really needed very much to be content. [click, static]

My mom loved jam—would make it herself every late spring from the big blackberry bushes we had behind our house. She’d experiment with different kinds too—the classic sweet blackberry jam, savory, spicy blackberry jams that we’d put on toast with cheese, blackberry jam mixed with vinegar in one of her few completely failed attempts. From late May through all of June, our house would smell like blackberries.

I don’t really like blackberries anymore. Just the smell of them makes something inside me ache. Harry...

[click, static]

Harry stopped growing them in our garden after the first year. I think, somehow, she knew.

[click, static]

#breaker whiskey #audio drama #episode #transcript #Spotify

[hedgewitchgarden]

Until a few years ago when I finally moved northward from Florida, you could have told me that apples grow in February and blackberries in March, and I’d have had little reason to disbelieve you. Moving from the tropics gave me an appreciation for when certain plants are cheaper to purchase and that snow is something to contend with, but I also had to face the reality of SAD, seasonal affective disorder.

The well-documented phenomenon of seasonal affective disorder affects roughly 10 million Americans and can crudely be summed up as a form of clinical depression tied to the changing of the seasons. Most who are affected by it feel it in the winter months, though there are many who feel depressive or even anxious symptoms in summer. The cause for the disorder is unknown, but theories range from people staying indoors due to the cold and dark, thus messing with melatonin production in the body, to an evolutionary leftover encouraging us to be more lethargic and energy-conserving due to the lack of resources our species once dealt with during the winter.

For a very long time, I was a skeptic about SAD. To a certain degree, I think it was just a lack of exposure. Most people who told me they were depressed around the holidays seemed to have the same objections I did to commercial Christmas co-opting and being forced to participate in insincere, even corny rituals. As I mentioned earlier, I grew up in Florida, a state noted for having about one percent of its population affected with SAD (compared to ten percent in Alaska).

Even more embarrassingly, I think that I dismissed the disorder out of hand just because of its criteria and name. That psychologists would go so far as to come up with an entire category of depression tied to something as trite as the weather and name it using an acronym that spelled out the word “sad” seemed indulgent at best, ridiculous at worst.

My outlook on SAD changed when I married someone who contends with it.

My wife’s seasonal background is not terribly dissimilar to my own. Before she moved to the same area of Florida in which we met, she had been born and raised in Orange County California. While we both had near-constant sunlight, for whatever reason, she actually did pay attention to whatever seasonal changes were available to her. When she eventually made her own trek to the north, I saw for the first time in the near-decade we’d known one another the true extent of what an early sunset and a sub-freezing thermometer could do to a person.

My wife is not like me: where I am (affectionately, I hope) referred to as a bit of a curmudgeon, she has a reputation for being an absolute delight. She’s pleasant and effervescent, sweet and energetic, loves people, and is always adventurous. She loves the outdoors and the fresh air, and absolutely must leave the house at least once a day or else she feels as though waking up might be a waste of precious time and opportunity.

Autumn is her favorite time of year. She loves crunching leaves underfoot and eating pumpkin-flavored anything and apples. When the mountainsides near our home turn brown and yellow, she feels a peace with the world that I envy every moment I witness it. Then the winter comes and she begins to talk about how she doesn’t want to leave our apartment anymore, how she hates that the sun sets before six and how she’s tired all of the time.

Christmas and New Year’s give her some joy for a while, but she describes February as “Dark. Cold. Depressing.” I hesitate to say that she becomes a different person—it’s more like the person I’ve always known her to be is slowed to the point that I need to work much harder at recognizing her.

More Radical Reads: Depression Is Not a Weakness

Now, anyone who has ever helped a loved one or a partner through depression is aware of how every instinct in your body cries for you to help them get better. All you want in the world is to remind them that their smile is more luminous than any summer day, and you can drive yourself to exhaustion looking for gestures and foods and conversation points that can bring them around. That’s natural and part of caring. It’s also rarely the most productive use of your energy.

There are therapies that have been used to varying level of success when it’s come to SAD: therapy using various lights and lamps is frequently used, and has been shown to have few side effects. In some serious cases, medication can be prescribed—SAD has been linked to suicidal thoughts in many cases–and any such options can and should be discussed with a mental health professional whenever possible. In most cases, explicit attention to self-care is seen as a great response.

More Radical Reads: Undo the Stigma: 10 Things Not to Say to Someone Managing Depression

For me, my job as a partner, and ally, and a witness to SAD is to just be supportive. It isn’t my place to try and step in and attempt to “fix” anything my wife is dealing with. I only need to recognize it for what it is and give it the proper attention that it always deserved and I had so much difficulty giving it for so many years.

I’m absolutely privileged to be an individual who does not suffer from SAD. I easily could have been. I have reason to believe that it may run in my family among a number of other depressive tendencies, but I’m fortunate not to. And I’m fortunate to be able to stand in for someone I care about and be there for her as she handles it in her own way. Sometimes that looks like listening and being in her presence while she contends with a dark bout for a day or so. Most times, it’s shouldering a little more of the load that we carry as a couple trying to make it through and survive and exist.

And sometimes, it’s as simple as warming her up and being a little bit brighter than I might have felt like being, just for her, just for that cold, dark day.

In order to continue producing high quality content and expanding the message of radical, unapologetic self-love, we need to build a sustainable organization. To meet these efforts, we’re thrilled to share the launch of our #NoBodiesInvisible subscription service. This service will provide our community with access to additional content and rewards for your monthly investment in furthering our radical self-love work.

[Feature Image: A photo of a person sitting on a large gate.  The person is wearing blue shorts and blue sneakers.  The gate is in a field of wheat.  Source: Rebecca Thorp]

#sad #seasonal affective disorder #depression

[howldean]

36 38 39

36 — where would i like to live somewhere with trees and fresh air. i’d like to be able to go for a walk in the woods somewhere nearby. i think a cozy town would be ideal but i love public transit and trains which aren’t conducive to small town lol. i love the bay area in california, seattle is cool i’ve been there, and maryland was nice did you know that they have the most lakes in the entire united states and they’re ALL man made

38 — childhood career of choice veterinarian! then i wanted to be a vet tech because i didn’t like guts for a bit then i realized techs are typically the ones who put animals down and then i gave up. dog trainer was up there too.

39 — favorite ice cream flavor I DONT HAVE ONE. it greatly depends on my mood. the best ice cream i’ve ever had was one scoop toasted marshmallow one scoop sea salt caramel in a sugar cone from earnest ice cream in vancouver canada!! but i’m also a big sorbet/sherbet guy i love some fruit like a blackberry, mango, raspberry type beat. mint choc chip, really high or really low quality strawberry, americone dream, anything caramel, KNOTTS BERRY FARM BOYSENBERRY SOFT SERVE. the point is i like a lot, but i’m also easy to please with a simple vanilla or popsicle lol

send a number!

#askbox games #i love a little treat fr #talenti gelato is really good just for grocery store stuff

[idabbleincrazy]

Welcome to the Family

Fandom: Buffyverse

Rating: M

Pairing: Fanged Four

Characters: William, Drusilla, Angelus, Darla

Word Count: 1294

Warnings: pre-smut, implied slash, implied foursome, heated conversation and innuendo, minor Sprusilla fluff

Summary: William is introduced to Darla upon her return from her visit to the Master.

A/N: written for nekid_spike's Paired Up challenge card for the Fanged Four square

London, 1880

It had been a month since William had been brought home to meet Angelus, and tonight Darla was due to arrive back from her trip to the Master's court. Angelus had left an hour or so ago to meet her at the port, after much fussing over William's appearance, and more than one threat of the pain he'd find himself in if he dirtied his clothes before they got back.

So now, hearing the carriage drawing closer on the cobblestone street below, Drusilla dragged William into the parlor to await the elder vampires, smoothing his brown silk vest free of the few wrinkles that had appeared while he'd busied himself under her skirts.

"Now, remember William, you're to be on your best behavior for Grandmummy and Daddy. I want her to be ever so pleased with you, love, and I'm sure she has something wickedly fun in mind to really welcome you into the family. Will you be my sweet knight for me?"

"Dru, pet, I've learned well enough to stay in Angelus' good graces these past few weeks, haven't I?"

"When it suits you to, anyway. Why do you think I'm asking you to be extra good for mummy, hmm?"

He smirked at her and pulled her in for a ravishing kiss just as the door swung open.

"Really, boy, couldn't you even wait for us to return before starting the fun? I could smell Dru's sweet drippings from out on the street."

William broke away from Drusilla, panting slightly, a habit he'd yet to break himself of, to leer at the looming figure in the doorway.

"Not jealous, are you?"

Angelus scoffed and stepped into the room, a petite, elegant blonde following close behind, an amused smile on her face as she looked between the men.

"So, this is the William you've preened about the whole ride back? The Childe still dares to speak to you so boldly, after a month? Why, if I didn't know better, I'd say you've gone soft, Angelus." Darla turned her piercing gaze back to William, looking him over from toe to tip. "But then, I can see why you might be tempted to be lenient with the boy. He is a pretty one, isn't he?"

William fought the urge to roll his eyes at the compliment; must everyone call him pretty?

Angelus smiled and crossed the parlor to the settee, nodding in agreement with his Sire's assessment of the fledgeling as he sank onto the cushion.

"William, aren't you going to greet the matriarch of our family properly? She'll think I've taught you nothing, at this rate."

"Oh, believe me, Angelus, I've no doubt you've taught the boy exceptionally well, in all manners of things."

William felt his face heat slightly at the comment and was grateful he no longer showed a blush. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward and took Darla's hand, bending to brush a kiss across her knuckles.

"Forgive me, ma'am, I meant no disrespect, to you or Angelus. I-"

"Oh, hush, Childe, Angelus is just trying to scare you. I'm not the Master, I hold no court here." Darla waited until William straightened up and flashed him a small smirk, winking. "And the only place I expect you to remember your manners, is the bedroom."

Darla let out a soft, tinkling chuckle when William's eyes widened and led him over to the sofa, where Drusilla now sat on Angelus' lap, a pleased smile on her face as she watched the interaction between the fairer pair.

"You chose well, Dru. Almost as well as I did." Darla urged William to sit beside Angelus and looked at the three in turn. "Have the two of you fed yet?"

"Oh, yes, Grandmama! William found us a wonderful meal, all full of candy and lace blackberries. My William always finds the yummiest little morsels for me."

"I'm glad to hear it, Dru, honey, but what have I told you about using that awful nickname? Tsk, it wouldn't do for you to slip up and use it in public, remember? It would only serve to make the humans suspicious of us or think you're touched."

"Forgive me, Darla, I forgot myself." Drusilla pouted slightly, but then smiled again as Angelus' hand stroked through her hair, leaning her head back into the soothing touch.

"You're forgiven, dear", Darla told the addled brunette, "but you must remember better from now on."

Angelus placed a soft kiss on Drusilla's temple and looked up at Darla.

"Our boy is looking more confused and lonely by the second, why don't you have a seat, Sire?

Darla winked at Angelus and turned a pleased smile upon William and gestured for him to scoot closer to Angelus to make room for her. Sitting down next to the young fledge, Darla pressed herself against his side, chuckling softly at the growing scent of desire she smelled wafting off of him.

"Oh, I can definitely see why you've kept this one around, darling, he smells delicious already, and he's hardly even worked up." Darla leaned closer and whispered in William's ear, her eyes on Angelus as she spoke. "Tell me, pretty William, has Angelus tasted you yet?"

William gasped quietly and felt himself harden, memories of the past month flitting through his head at the question.

"Yes, ma'am, he has."

"Please, William, call me Darla. We're family now, and as I said, I don't hold court here. When we're amongst our kind, you may need to address Angelus and myself more formally, but not when it's just the four of us. In public, I think it would be best if you and I present ourselves as siblings, to keep local tongues from wagging at our living situation. But, we'll sort the rest of that out later."

"Yes, m - Darla."

"Good boy." Darla paused as she smelled a sudden spike in William's arousal, and cupped his chin in her hand, turning his face to meet hers. "My, you are a precious find, aren't you, Childe? You liked that, didn't you; when I called you a good boy?"

William gulped and nodded, his eyes darting to the side to avoid her direct gaze. Darla tutted and urged him to look at her again.

"Surely Angelus has told you there's no need to be ashamed of such things anymore? It's natural for you to feel pleased by the approval of the elders in your line. Now, back to the matter at hand. Angelus has tasted you, lucky boy that he is, have you tasted him?"

"Y-yes."

Darla smiled at him and maneuvered him so that he was now facing Angelus and Drusilla, his back pressed against her bosom. He felt her breath falling softly on his skin as she rested her chin on his shoulder, her voice soft and alluring as she spoke again.

"What a sight that must've been to see; one I shall have to request someday. But for now…I had other plans for us tonight, but you truly smell so sweet, there's something I think I'd rather try instead. Can you give your trust to me, William?"

William was fully erect now, his cock aching painfully against the buttons of his trousers. He looked from one darker vampire to the other, their eyes dark with desire and excitement, and he let himself give in to the whims of the elegant woman pressed against his back, relaxing into her loose embrace as she stroked a hand up his arm. It seemed Drusilla had been right once again with her prediction; Darla definitely seemed to have a few wicked tricks up her sleeve.

"I trust you, Darla."

"Thank you, William. And welcome to the family, Childe, I think we’re all going to have so much fun."

~~~~

All Things Spike: @leatafanfiction @captain-peroxid3

Other: @countblucas (cuz fanged four)

#a:ts fanfic #buffyverse fanfic #fanged four