i want to know how is brain works

anonymous asked:

So.... hello I've be following your blog for almost 2 years and finally worked up the nerve to say it's beautiful, uplifting, humour and very inspirational (makes me want to try playing the Sims again). Love your characters and the way your brain works. And also wanted to ask what ever happened to Freddy and what is he up to? Is even more known now for his work now? Sorry if this is long but I love getting to know more about your characters.

omg dsdskah first of all ilyyyyy for sending nice things like this but most importantly how haven’t you blocked me yet ;-;;;;;;;;;;;;;..

seconddddd zsdkjhsdkf.. i love you even more for asking me about Freddy and that you even care about him when i’ve only showed him like twice. he’s still my precious pure babyyyyy. the only thing stopping me from posting him is finding a home/world for him and Benji because they’re suppose to be roommates. realistically they should already be settled in somewhere or at the very least in the process of looking for something that can accommodate both of their needs. 

right now they’re in Angel City but that world has become increasingly laggy for me so i have to find another “city-type” environment for them. i lowkey want them to be based in NY though because they each spend time back and forth between there and LA, Brooklyn is Freddy’s hometown and there’s nothing really keeping Benji in Cali anymore that he can’t do elsewhere or hop on a flight real fast if he needs to visit. Freddy is actually subletting his studio in NY to one of his friends, however, the lease will be up soon so he’s gonna have to figure out additional living arrangements anyway and Benji feels it’s time to move out of Wes’ home soooo yeah i’m thinking NY ^_^

as far as Freddy’s line of work.. he’s pretty popular behind the lens at this point but genuinely didn’t start coming into his own success until about age 23, he’s 26 now. he’s a street life/fashion photographer and his preferred specialty is working with musicians as their personal photojournalist. he’ll often travel on the road with the artist and photograph them, their entourage and any behind the scenes and/or onstage work they might do. this usually will last ongoing for about a month or two or however long the artist is on tour for and then he’s back home working on his other side jobs which include various publications, still life and other personal projects he might be experimenting with.

4

Q: “Do you have any new years resolutions?”

P: (…) I also want to channel my creative energies into something, I’ve been writing down loads of ideas and I’ve got a load of ideas for some kind of creative project, I just don’t know how to make it yet. That’s really vague ‘cause I don’t even really know what it is yet, but there is something brewing in my brain which i’d like to do.

This has probably been addressed, but I just want to go on my own little rant about why I love Lestrade…

1. Humility. He’s NEVER cared about getting credit for anything. He just wants the bad guys caught so people stop getting hurt or killed. That’s all he cares about. Saving people. He knows Sherlock’s methods work.

2. Faith. In the car park…how long did it take him to go from “Sherlock’s definitely super dead” to “Oh, you bastard.” ?????
I think I counted like 6 seconds.

3. Brains. He’s in no way dumb. He’s Detective Inspector. In that pub when Moriarty’s interruption flashed on…even in slow motion, you can tell he immediately recognized who it was, and what the implications meant. Yet he’s not afraid of Sherlock making him LOOK dumb, because like everybody else, he’s in awe of his mind. Maybe he’s trying to learn to think like him.

4. His hair always looks amazing no matter what.

5. He’s so happy for everyone. All the time. Like, genuinely happy. And you can tell it’s because he really loves and is so proud of everybody. I feel like his happiness is the purest, because Rupert Graves is so genuine. Every Lestrade smile is a full-blast Rupert smile. I feel like his smile is so infectious, it causes any actor who happens to glance at him to smile 100X brighter because of it. You can see it when Martin Freeman smiles like a madman after looking at him when Sherlock finally says “Greg” for the first time. Rupert Graves and Aiden Turner are a lot alike in how, when you see them genuinely smile and laugh, you feel immortal for a few seconds.

6. He’s a huge goober.

A Message from Tammy

It’s November 9th, 2016 here in the United States of America, and our household stayed up late to try to sleep with the knowledge that Donald Trump is our next president.  I had already asked my assistant, Julie, who is even more shattered than my husband and me, to check to see what are the regulations for emigrating to Canada.  I had threatened to do so before, if I felt the election had gone badly awry, but money usually prohibited my doing so. But last night I swore I’d pull it off somehow, and persuade the Canadian government to take Tim, me, Julie, our two parakeets, and who knows how many rescued and stray cats into their saner nation.

This has been a long, hard day.  Little writing work has gotten done.  Mostly I have been numbing my brain with the simple iBook game I play or checking Facebook online or my e-mail to see how others are reacting.

A lot of my readers wanted to know what I thought when I came online this morning.  I already knew friends of LBGTQA sexuality and Islamic, Muslim, and Latino roots are very, very frightened, and we are frightened for them.  Many of those online who sought me out told me the steps they were taking for themselves, their friends, their relatives, classmates, and the organizations they believe in, and they asked me what I thought.  I had to reply in the voice of my books: that no, things don’t look good.  But we can’t let that get in the way.  They are doing the right thing, organizing and supporting each other, hanging onto their belief that they can work to make things better, that they don’t have to give in to things they believe are wrong.  What they see is not the end.  What they see is a battle, and their determination is what matters.

And I felt like a shmuck, because I realized I couldn’t talk to them like that, I couldn’t write my books like I want to, and then say blithely, “Okay, so long, I’m off to Canada!  `Bye!”  I can’t do it.  I can’t desert them; I can’t let them down; I can’t leave them in the middle of the fight.  So I told Julie not to bother checking into emigration to Canada.  She just grinned at me.

So I’m in for the fight.  Because Trump and the Republican Party and those who put them into office are not going to go after women’s hard-won rights over their bodies, and our Muslim and Latino and Black and Asian and Native American populations are not going to lose their rights as citizens of this country, and the people whose sexuality does not match the straight white straitjacket are not going to live in fear of beatings in the street without all of us who spent this morning as shattered citizens putting up one helluva fight.  We believe in forward motion, even if it’s across a battlefield.

3

keith wearing that jumper in cause you’re learning me by @gajeelredfox is all ive been thinking about. 

also pls imagine lance coming back home and keefs brain kinda stops working and he justs gets up and hugs him because “oh my god ive missed you…and uh, thanks again for that- the present i mean.” “yeah…no problem…thanks for the chocolate.”

and lance secretly wanting a jumper like keiths

i love that phil thought outside the box a lot in their new quick draw video

like him making the umbrella blown out and the sandwich a triangle?? i know it’s just small things but it shows how his brain works differently from other people’s and i love that

how the fuck does my brain turn someone saying “I can’t hang out tomorrow I’m busy” into “no one loves you and you gotta be dead bc what’s the point in living” in .3 seconds

Brain Fart (Anthony x Reader)

A/N: y’all really didn’t like Instagram lol so here’s this. also I know it’s short, but I wanted to put something out there. This is fluffy at the end idk how I feel about it but hopefully you guys like it! My first Anthony x Reader! I might do a part 2 if you guys wanted it so let me know! Don’t forget to send in requests! I will literally write ANYTHING . Enjoy!

TW: like 2 bad words??? And mention of alcohol

WC: 845

You were just minding your business, wiping down the tables at the coffee shop you work at when you heard the bell signifying that someone had walked in ring.

“Welcome! I’ll be right with you,” you said cheerfully, without looking up. You quickly finished up cleaning up and walked over to the register.

“Hi, sorry about that. What can I-”  you stopped. You couldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing. Anthony Ramos was standing right in front of you. Anthony fucking Ramos in the flesh. Right in front of you.

“Um, hello?” he said, trying to hide his smile.

“Right, um, so sorry. What can I get for you?” you said trying not to blush, but definitely failing.

“No problem,” he laughed. He finished ordering and paid, but he didn’t move from where he was standing.

“So what’s a beautiful girl like you like to do for fun?” he asked, leaning over the counter.

“I’m sorry; there’s no way this is happening. Anthony Ramos is actually flirting with me right now?” you said, the last line coming out like a question.

“So you know who I am?” he chuckled.

“Yes, I do, which is why I had a brain fart when I saw your face,” you said, wincing at the fact that you said “brain fart” in front of Anthony Ramos and physically facepalming.

“Well, I’m glad that you did because it saved me from the embarrassment of being even more speechless when I saw how gorgeous you are,” he said softly, and you could’ve sworn you saw a twinkle in his eye.

“So how come I’ve never seen you in here before?” you asked, choosing to move on, since you were sure your cheeks were as red as a cherry tomato.

“A friend of mine recently said I should try this place out. He’s really into supporting small businesses,” he explained. “Now that I’ve seen it, I’ll definitely be coming back,” he winked.

The two of you delved into conversation, lasting about an hour, only being interrupted when a customer would come in which only happened a few times. You had a lot in common, which you were not expecting at all. You were pleasantly surprised to know that he was actually pretty dorky in high school.

“No, you weren’t. Stop lying. There is no way that you were dorky in high school,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Dude, I swear I was. I started playing baseball so that people would like me more…” he said sheepishly looking at the ground now and rubbing the back of the neck with his hand.

“High school me would’ve had the biggest crush on high school you if that makes you feel any better,” you said, putting your hand on top of his. He looked up at you then at your hands. You pulled your hand away, and you swear you saw him frown. He looked down at his watch, his eyes widened.

“Oh shit! I really have to go…” he looked at you, then appeared to have a change of heart. “Well, actually, you asked me a bunch of questions, but you missed the big question.”

“Oh really?” you laughed, “Well, what’s the big question, then?” you asked, using the same tone to tease him.

“Will you get a drink with me?”

“What?” you asked, completely taken by surprise.

“You. Me. Drink. Now?” he asked, with a wide grin.

“Don’t you have a show to do, Anthony Ramos from Hamilton?”

“I can call off.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because life is short, and you are hot. Drink?”

You couldn’t lie; the persistence was adorable.

“No,” you said playfully, getting up from the table where you were sitting.

“Ever?” he asked, getting up as well.

“Maybe,” you smirked.

“Phone number?”

“Moving a little fast, don’t you think?” you said, before making your way over to the counter again and getting a notepad and a pen.

“Is that your phone number?” he asked, leaning over the counter again.

“Just my phone number. Not a promise, not a guarantee, just my phone number.”

“And that’s (Y/N)…”

“(Y/N) Ramos…” you said before realizing what you’d just said. Your eyes widened, and you quickly corrected your mistake. “(L/N)! (Y/N) (L/N)!”

His eyes widened just as much and his jaw dropped before he began to smile.

“Go away. Don’t look at me,” you said walking away from the counter and heading towards the blenders.

“I’ll call you!” he yelled out, walking backwards towards the door.

“Don’t look at me,” you said, blushing furiously and still walking with your head down.

“I’ll call you tomorrow!”

“Don’t look at me.” you said, attempting to organize items on the counter that were already organized.

“I might even call you tonight!” he called, now at the door.

“Don’t look at me!” you said, now crouching down to hide behind the counter.

“I’m definitely going to call you, gorgeous girl!” he said, as he was walking out.

“You definitely better,” you mumbled, as you smiled like an idiot thinking about what had just happened.

Regarding the post about participation trophies:  I know this has been said before, but I want to reiterate.  If you reward a child equally for when they do good and when they fail miserably, they don’t learn “Oh, my failure is just as good as somebody’s success” and go on to be an entitled brat.  That’s not how the human brain works.  They learn “Nothing I do matters,” “rewards don’t actually mean anything” and “the outcome is going to be the same regardless of my behavior so why should I bother?”  The failure isn’t inflated in importance to match the reward.  The reward is devalued to match the failure.  And that’s why we have a generation of kids who are wracked with anxiety and depression and who are smarter and harder working than ever but don’t feel like they’re in control of their lives because nothing they do has any noticeable effect on their environment.  (This is also why these poor kids don’t freaking believe you when you try to compliment them)

Remember 2 months ago, when I said I want to give you a proper thank you for more than 100 follwers? Ha, didn’t think so. But I do and when Scout becomes your voice of reason, you know it is about time.

Anyways, at long last, here it is: My 250(+) followers give away!

how it works:

  1. you must follow this blog (duh.)
  2. reblog this post (one reblog is enough)
  3. if you want to reblog this to a side blog, send me a message with your username (so I can check if you’re a follower), even better if you add a tag to the reblog that says ‘sideblog’ (or something like this), so my little bird brain doesn’t get confused
  4. I will send the winners a message, so make sure you have enabled that

What ya get:

  • first prize: up to 3 characters, simple color/BG (colored like my answers to asks, see bottom left)
  • second prize: up to 2 characters simple color, no BG 
  • (2x) third prize: 1 character sketch, no BG (see bottom right)

(simple BG means preferable outside, no complicated perspective)

I will draw:

  • fanart and OCs, it doesn’t have to be tf2 (be ready to provide references, especially for OCs)
  • SFW only

Deadline will be the 2nd of March (because I can remember that date), so you have plenty of time :)

In case I hit 300 followers until then, there’ll be two second prizes as well.

Thank you guys so much for following! :)

A Little Older

I’m beginning to change my conception of MBTI. That is, perhaps it’s not changing, but I know I certainly am. And I know that I’ve said before that MBTI stereotypes often stem from the personalities at their least mature, but now I’m going to go a step further and say that all of MBTI is describing the brain at it’s least mature.

Here’s why:

A mature person is someone who is in control of himself, someone who realizes that there is something greater than his own passions and ideas, and acts accordingly. Maturity includes the traits of being thoughtful, prudent, compassionate, and hard-working. Mature people realize that there is something beyond what they want and how they think. And, taking that a step further, mature people put this knowledge to a practical use, which is why they can be depended on.

Obviously, this comes out in different ways in different people, but I think the really mature people I know all have these traits. There is, after all, such a thing as immature adults. It’s more common than we’d like to think, too.

So, when it comes to MBTI, and the thought processes being described, a mature person obviously looks different than an immature one. And I think the big difference is that the person is in control of these processes. For example, an INTP (that’s what you get, this is an INTP writing, after all), is going to act based on what he likes, which is usually going to mean sticking to himself and using his Ne to bounce ideas off of people indiscriminately and lash out with uncontrollable Fe if he gets overstressed, and stuff like that.

But when an INTP begins to mature, he starts to see a bigger picture. This might be hard to imagine, since INTPs are already big-picture people to start with. But we’re big-picture people in our minds, and not in real life. When we start to apply the big picture to life around us, we start to see that we need to grow up. Sometimes this happens because we don’t have a choice. People start depending on us, and we have to grow up, or disappoint them. 

As we mature, though, we learn how to set aside our ideas for someone else who needs us more than we need our ideas. We learn how to think before we just start bouncing ideas off of people. We learn how to control our Fe, and difficult as it is, we learn that even when we are stressed we don’t have an excuse to lash out. We learn how to be happy even when we don’t want to, and we learn how to keep from complaining and how to think from the perspectives of other people. We even start to learn how to live and let live, which is, possibly, one of the hardest lessons for any human being to learn.

Because of this, we start to look less like stereotypical INTPs, and more like grown-ups. This doesn’t mean we lose our identity. It means we are in control of our identity. We’re still INTPs, because we can’t ever change from that. But we can learn how to act on something greater than even our own thought processes, and that’s what every human should be striving for.

Obviously, no one is perfect. I’m not even suggesting that. I’m just suggesting that MBTI isn’t quite as all-absorbing as a lot of us may think it is. It’s just a small part of us, and as we get older, it’s probably going to matter even less.

How sex work has ruined my dating life

Sex work has ruined my relationship/dating life in more ways than I could possibly imagine

I can no longer even have a conversation with a guy without thinking
“YOU FUCKING LYING PIECE OF SHIT I KNOW YOURE ONLY SAYING THIS BECAUSE YOU WANT SOME OF THIS PUSS-AY”
Or
“How would one possibly and also cunningly extract money,food or and a shopping trip from this poor unaware individual?” *very British accent*.

Not only that I have acquired what one would call a “stripper brain” meaning that from the moment you sit down I AM JUDGING YOU
From your watch to your shoes to that nasty little stain on your jumper.
I mean you could really be a nice guy. Like AMAZING..

..But is that a Casio watch you’re wearing?Yeah good bye.✋🏿

This actually brings me on to another thing… MONEY😊😊

There was once a time in my life that I could really be with a 9-5 guy who makes 60-90 a shift..(good times)

Now that I’m extremely spoilt and I feel severely distraught if I make 200 in a night therefore I find itboth hard and unattractive to date a guy who is on a lower income than me AND CANNOT SPEND! I tried it once before and I felt like a sugar mummy. I paid for all the dates and was even borrowing him money🙄🙄🙄

Now this is the sad part..
I don’t think I could even trust a man with the kind of guys that walk into my club you know..

Married ass men begging you to come home with them offering any amount even though back at home your kids ain’t even got no school shoes.

Men denying their girlfriends and claiming the beautiful women on their screen savers are their sister or their “deceased cousins”.

I even had one guy told me he wears a wedding ring because he “Doesn’t want to attract women because all women are after his money” Really nigga?¿.

You even get those guys that insult their Mrs. Infront you like seriously?

Anyways that’s my rant.

Moral: fuckniggasgetmoney gangganggang fuck trump even though I live in the UK Kodakfree ayyy

Chuck Loves You

PLEASE REBLOG THIS IF YOU LIKE THE MESSAGE! 

PEOPLE CAN ALWAYS USE MORE POSITIVITY AND ACCEPTANCE!

Summary; You are feeling insecure and angry and confused. Chuck comes to you to help.

Title: Chuck Loves You

Parings: Reader (any gender) x Chuck

A/N: I I hope this is something that gets spread far and wide. I struggle a lot with being okay with myself and how my brain works. I know a lot of other people do too. But, there are people like you out there. There are people who can sorta understand your struggle (everyone’s is different and unique). There are people who want to help you and want you to Always Keep Fighting and remember that You Are Not Alone. I love you all and my inbox and ask box is ALWAYS open, even if you just need to go on anon and vent. Stay awesome and kind everyone and know you are loved <3


Hate. Confusion. Anger. Sadness. Insecurity. Loneliness. To name just a few. No matter what you did or what you said, they wouldn’t leave.

No amount of self-help books, positive self-talk, people saying “oh I know how you feel”, none of it made it any better.

You weren’t even sure really how it happened, but you can’t remember a time before this. A time where you felt completely comfortable with yourself and your life.

People have let you down. People have hurt you. People have left, and others have stayed too long.

You have hurt yourself. You have wanted to run away from it all, maybe even end it all.

You sat there alone, wondering why the world had to be so cruel.

Why can’t people accept each other? Why can’t they support each other? Why do people need to always fit in? Why do I always have to feel left out? Or judged? Or less than?

Keep reading

Neruotypicals

Honestly it annoys me how neurotypicals are all like not doing work purposefully and then there’s me not doing work
/because I literally can’t/ and gosh I’m like they don’t know how lucky they are to have a fricken brain that focuses when they want it to and yet they don’t apply themselves at all, like seriously???? You gotta brain that works normally and can focus, why aren’t you doing work! Ugh.

“whatever you believe, this man, this thing is not an angel!” yeah I changed the word on purpose to suit it!

I’m going to sleep… 5:28 am already.. But! I wanted to post this first, why the hell I didn’t post it with my sign on twitter? I’m falling asleep, my brain’s not working how it’s supposed to! So.. , this was inspired by @ceejles Phantom of the opera AU.. Why can’t I tag? I have no clue… Anyway! Since she drew an amazing Adrien/Phantom and Marinette/Christine, I had the thought at midnight of… What if.. Nathaniel=Raoul? So… That’s what happened! I’m not good I know but I tried! So, here’s my version of Nathaniel = Raoul!!

P. S…. I might change the cross once I wake up..

The Vegas Lights

Anonymous Asked:   I have this idea in my head and I was hoping you’d be able to do some justice for it. I was wondering if you’d be able to do a Spencer x reader where the reader is a magic con artist and she is involved in a case in Las Vegas and Spencer starts to fall in love with her.

Author’s Note: This is probably how I’ll post stories from now on, just so its easier to look at. Also I apologize for my absence I was really struggling and having a hard time but hopefully I’m back. Because this is what I love doing and I love hearing from you all. I know this isn’t probably what you had in mind anon but it’s where my brain went so enjoy. P.S. Not edited so sorry for mistakes, I’ll fix them later but I really wanted to post something. 


You were working your usual area, outside on the strip under all the neon lights. You needed a bigger, open space to work your shows, made it easier to take cash without anyone noticing. You missed your stage, but when times were tough you made do with what you had. Today felt like your day. You were able to get your new wardrobe, your new tricks were working without a hitch and you already had more cash than you should carry in the Vegas streets. Now, it was time for your final act.

That’s when you noticed the detective. She was a fiery spirit, older, and really didn’t like you. Interesting development, she was being followed by two other detectives. You took another look as you tried to pull the crowd closer to you; they weren’t detectives they were FBI. Sadly this meant you couldn’t pull off your real final act, so you’d just have to settle for a disappearing illusion instead.

You had what looked like a changing tent on wheels; it was circular and had a long black curtain that dragged on the ground. It was perfect and you borrowed in from the shop that was behind where you were preforming so it wasn’t your responsibility to clean up. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll need a volunteer who’s very good at walking.”

“I’ll volunteer, (Name).” The detective called to you, but she was still working her way to the front of the crowd with the two agents.

You tsked. “Sorry detective, but you just got here so that’s not very fair.” You grabbed a girl who was in the very front and you enclosed yourself inside the curtain. “Okay, sweetheart, I need you to spin this thing around three times, and then the detective will pull back the curtains and I’ll have a surprise waiting for her.”

Of course, you were standing in the back of the crowd by the time she pulled back the curtain. You would have gotten farther but you really liked the look on the detectives face when she pulled aside the curtain to find you missing. You quickly slipped on a sweater, and as cheesy as it was you also put on a pair of fake glasses. But it did help you blend easier in the crowds Vegas seemed to draw in. You were checking behind you, trying to see if any of the agents were coming after you, when you walked straight into someone.

 

Spencer had a feeling that you’d escape the moment you saw the detective, so he kept his distance from the scene while Derek and Emily followed the detective. He couldn’t get a good view of you from where he stood but he could see the act. He was able to see you escape, but then he lost you in the crowd. He was scanning to see if you somehow got ahead of him, when someone knocked right into him. He wasn’t expecting it and the person was going at full force so that you both fell onto the ground.

Well, Spencer fell onto the ground, while you fell on top of him. You groaned in pain, before bolting up to a sitting position. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Spencer looked up, and recognized immediately that you were the suspect they were looking for. But he felt his breath stolen away from him, as he got lost in your beauty. It was more than that of course, but he couldn’t stop his heart from racing at just the mere sight of you. As a profiler, Spencer could see your ability to care and be gentle even with your tough exterior. All these complex thoughts raced through his head in a matter of seconds but he suddenly became extremely aware that you were still sitting on top of him. “I’m alright, but could you get off of me? I have a thing about germs.”

“Right and we’re on the side walk, in Vegas.” You quickly stood up, and Spencer could see you wincing as he got up too.  

“Are you okay?”

“I just scraped up my hands a little, again, I’m sorry.” You made a move to walk away, but since you were the suspect they were looking for, Spencer couldn’t let you leave.

“I have some bandages and some antibacterial spray in my car. It would be best to get that taken care of.” Spencer saw the indecision on your face, but he also noticed the way you scanned the crowd behind you and saw the detective, Derek, and Emily heading towards the two of you.

“That sounds…” You gave one last look at the detective before interlocking your arm with Spencer’s. “Wonderful. Please, let’s go right now.”

Spencer started to lead you back to the SUV’s they came in, when you suddenly jumped away. He didn’t know if you were on to him, so he didn’t say anything until you gave him a shy look, blushing slightly.

“Sorry! You said you had a thing with germs, I have a tendency to invade personal space, sorry about that.”

Spencer was more surprised that he didn’t even really notice, he was always worried that something about her seemed familiar to him. He rubbed his arm suddenly feeling nervous. “It’s no problem. My car is right here.”

You inspected the SUV, and Spencer couldn’t have timed it better. Right then, the Detective and the rest of his team walked up. The Detective had handcuffs on you before you could even let out a curse.

“Come on, (Name), we need to bring you in for some questioning.”

So that’s how you ended up in an interrogation room. Glaring daggers and the cutie that conned you here, along with one of the other agents who caught you.

           Cutie started the conversation. “So, (Name), you’re a magician?”

           “That’s the best name for me, Spencer.”

At his confused look, you only smirked. The cuffs luckily didn’t stop you from reaching your pocket. You pulled out his official F.B.I. ‘badge’ and threw it on the table. He quickly swiped it up, still looking a little lost of when you were able to grab it.

“So you mean you’re a con artist.” You think her name was Emily, Agent Emily. She obviously didn’t like your tricks.

           “I preform, people pay me, and I’m good at a little slight of hand. I used to have a professional stage but now I do just fine on the streets.”

           “Your stage? Where you used to perform with your partner Stephen Roth?”

           You rubbed your head. If you were here because of that idiot you were going to lose it. “Doesn’t he go by something else now, what was it? Stephen Shade?”

           Spencer finally spoke up again. “Shadows.”

           “That still sounds shitty.” You felt a little tension grow in the air. You should have guessed, F.B.I. wouldn’t be coming after you if Stephen was just bad to his old habits. “What happened? Did he do something?”

           “You don’t seem surprised that this is about him.” Emily noted.

           “Yeah, well he was an asshole with a gambling problem and violent tendencies.”

           “We suspect him of committing five murders. All of young and attractive women.”

           Well that stopped you. Murder? But he promised you he was getting help, why would he lie to you? After you forgave him even, for stealing your show.

           Emily gave Spencer a look, apparently it was a surprise to them that you didn’t know about this. “This must be quite shocking for you, but it’s really important that we find him before he can hurt anyone else. According to our profile we don’t have much time before he grabs his new victim.”

           You shook your head, probably too aggressively but you couldn’t believe this. You didn’t want to believe it.

           Spencer spoke to you now, softly in a tone that brought a sense of clarity to your head. “You can help us, and help him. We just need to know places that he’d be, he’s not at his house or anywhere near the stage he performs at. Is there any place you know of that he’d be?”

           You did, you knew exactly where he’d be.

           But you weren’t telling them that.

           Spencer watched you exit the police station, not being able to shake the feeling of him doing something wrong. What was he supposed to do chase after you? His eyes lingered on the door too long, he was caught.

           “Pretty boy, what are you thinking?”

           Spencer tried to snap himself out of it but he couldn’t. “She wasn’t saying everything. I think she knows something.”

           “What like a partner?”

           “No.” Spencer said with just a bit too much force. “Um, no. Just that she knows something that might put her in danger.”

           At that moment, an officer rushed out of one of the rooms and out the front entrance. The team could hear what sounded like shouting before the man rushed back inside.

           “Agents!” He greeted them while running up to them. “I was watching your informant leave the station on the cameras and she was grabbed down the street almost out of view of the camera. A man in a truck hit her over the head, then dragged her into the truck and drove away.”

           Hotch spoke up, while the rest of the team was already in motion. “Send that footage to our tech analysis, hopefully we still are able to catch up.”

            Spencer was first out the door and instead of waiting for his team; he hopped in one of the cop cars that would be leading the chase. Spencer couldn’t believe that he just let you go, when you obviously knew something. Now you were in even more danger, and he didn’t know why but he couldn’t let anything bad happen to you.

           Before anything you felt the pain. Someone had split open your head you were sure of it. You knew exactly where you were before you even opened your eyes. It was a vacant house, on the bad side of town. You two used to come here to practice new tricks and work on your act before you got your own stage.

           When you opened your eyes, you were disgusted on the point of vomiting. Red and blue lights outside the window lit the room, every stain, every fragment of what used to be a human and a lifeless girl sprawled out on a mattress on the floor.

           Stephen looked dirty, he was scratched up too those claw marks from human nails were visible as he peaked through the window holding a gun.

           “Oh, Stephen.” You groaned surprising him. “What happened to you?”

           “Shut your fucking mouth. Things weren’t the same when you left, no one could get it right like you could.” You saw the crazed look in his eyes, he was too far gone.

           “It’s not our time to die Stephen, put the gun down.” From the corner of your eye you were able to see shadows in the kitchen. You didn’t dare look away, but you really hoped it was that Agent coming to pull you out of here. This wasn’t the Stephen you worked with or knew. This was a monster.

           “ I know… I know what I did was wrong but once I started I couldn’t stop. It was addictive better than any drug, or any performance. But there is only one way out of this for me.” He said tapping the gun to his head, finally turning back to the window. “(Name), I’m not going alone either.”

           You twisted to face behind you, fear starting to take control of you, and were relieved to see Spencer standing there.  If Spencer could trick you into getting taken into custody, than he could handle Stephen. Spencer was gesturing for you to come towards him, so you tried to slide as quietly as you could.

           “You were my partner (Name), you deserve better than a bullet.” He spoke to you while still gazing out the window, but his venomous tone made you pause. “Maybe I’ll let you see exactly what those other girls saw, how their final moments were ended by me.”

           You looked back to Spencer with tears forming in your eyes, your heart was pumping so fast you could barely hear and you felt your breathing start to turn heavy.

           Spencer mouthed at you, still remaining out of Stephen’s sight. “Calm down,” He mouthed. “I’m here, just come to me. It’s okay.”

           You couldn’t take this anymore, you quietly made your way to your feet and now being able to stand ran to Spencer as other agents ran past you towards Stephen. Spencer grabbed you quickly embracing you and covering your ears as you cried onto his bullet proof vest. Gunshots went off, you wanted to scream but it couldn’t escape your throat. So instead you just held onto Spencer and cried as you heard the body of your old friend fall to the floor.

           Once he was sure the gunshots were through he used his hands to hold you and stroke your hair. “I thought,” You mumbled to him. “You had a thing with germs.”

           “You were already on me once today, so just for you I don’t really mind.”

House MD Sentence Meme
  • “Ah, my birthday. Normally I’d put on a festive hat and celebrate the fact that the Earth has circled the Sun one more time; I really didn’t think it was going to make it this year, but darn it if it wasn’t the little planet that could all over again.”
  • “Billionaires buy movie studios to get laid. They buy hospitals to get respect.”
  • “Do you know what the human body goes through when you have sex? Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere, and secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you’re lifting three times your body weight.”
  • “Figures you’d try and come up with a solution where no one gets hurt. The problem is, the world doesn’t work that way just ‘cause you want it to.”
  • “How would you feel if I interfered in your personal life?”
  • “I don’t have the right to show interest in someone?”
  • “I said I was an addict, I didn’t say I had a problem. I pay my bills, I make my meals. I function.”
  • “I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like you. It’s nothing personal, I don’t like anybody.”
  • “I’m sorry, but the fact that the sexual pleasure center of your cerebral cortex has been over-stimulated by spirochetes is a poor basis for a relationship.”
  • “I’ve been alienating people since I was three.”
  • “My joints have been feeling all loose, and lately I’ve been feeling sick a lot.”
  • “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought we were having a state-the-obvious contest. I’m competitive by nature.”
  • “Our bodies break down, sometimes when we’re 90, sometimes before we’re even born, but it always happens and there’s never any dignity in it. I don’t care if you can walk, see, wipe your own ass. It’s always ugly - always! We can live with dignity - we can’t die with it.”
  • “Parents are never as bad as kids think they are.”
  • “So you’re here to tell me I have just a few hours to live?”
  • “Thirty percent of all dads out there don’t realize they’re raising someone else’s kid.”
  • “This would be a very good time to offer me a bribe. How much is your life worth?”
  • “Treating illnesses is why we became doctors. Treating patients is what makes most doctors miserable.”
  • “What I have difficulty with is the whole concept of belief. Faith isn’t based on logic and experience.”
  • “What would you prefer - a doctor who holds your hand while you die or one who ignores you while you get better? I suppose it would particularly suck to have a doctor who ignores you while you die.”
  • “Where is the miracle in delivering a crack-addicted baby? Hmm? Then watching her mother abandon her 'cause she needs another score. Miracle of love. You’re over twice as likely to be killed by the person you love than by a stranger.”
  • “You have little people inside you.”
  • “You know, in some cultures, it’s considered almost rude for one friend to spy on another.”
  • “You took a chance, you did something great. You were wrong, but it was still great. You should feel great that it was great. You should feel like crap that it was wrong.”

Do you ever just get so…frustrated when it comes to your wriitng?

Like not in the “i suck and need validation” kind of way but like…I dunno…

Like you read other people who are better than you and you aspire to get to and you’re like:

“I am reading this stuff all the time, why isn’t their superior skill not being reflected in my own work? Why can’t I take what i am literally seeing and apply it to my own work?”

I sometimes want to actually just slap my hands and yell at them and yell at my brain too. Because the picture of where i want to be with this story and the execution I want for it isn’t coming out how I want it and it makes me angry because I like the story i’m writing and i’m not doing it justice. The pictures in my mind look amazing and it’s not delivering.

It’s just frustrating…

I know I’ve made a lot of progress but I can’t shake off that voice saying it’s not enough.

Ok rant over