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do the stars gaze back ?

overview: the reader is hopelessly, head over heels in love with spencer (the other option is that they believe they have carbon monoxide poisoning) and thinks he doesn't feel the same way.

genre: angsty-ish (?), fluff-ish(?), PINING (so much pining), friends to lovers teehee

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

a/n: hiii ! omg this is my first ever fanfic and asdhfsdfjhgdhjfs i'm super scared and excited rn. i just wanna say tysm for taking the time to read this and especially thank you to @samuel-de-champagne-problems, @jemilyisms and @spencerreidat3am for taking a look at my drafts ! i totally was not projecting onto reader, the entire time, and writing about my real-life scenario where my i'm in love with my best friend and she doesn't like me back ahahahah. anyways if anyone wants to cry about unrequited love come to me and lets cry together. the title is based on this stardust quote and idk it kinda fits the theme of unknown unrequited love - ahhh i'm just waffling at this point. i hope you enjoy the fic :) <3 !

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it had been a couple weeks since you’d last hung out with Spencer by yourself. after forcing him to re-watch your favourite film ‘stardust’ for the 80th time together, you found yourself tucked away in his arms; his hands tracing circles gently against your back, whilst you both lay on the sofa.

you’d almost confessed there and then.

it hadn’t been the first time that you both sought each other out whilst watching a film; you were always almost touching in some way or another. a head on a shoulder. legs draped across one another. pinkies intertwined. it had taken him a long time to get used to your love language, touch, and now you both of you couldn’t go too long without touching each other in some way. platonically of course.

but this time you could barely suppress your feelings – the overwhelming urge to look up at him and tell him there and then that you were in love with him. Spencer Walter Reid.

i mean, at least you were pretty you were in love with him. when you first began to question these feelings you searched up your symptoms: slight dizziness (when he wore his favourite cologne), shortness of breath (whenever he platonically flirted with you), heart palpitations (whenever he came near you and brushed his hands against yours). unhelpfully, these were also symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning - so the jury was still out on whether it truly was love.

you’d given up watching on the film halfway through that night – you could practically recite it anyway (you knew for a fact that he could too) - and instead focused on him. Spence’s eyes were still focused on the television screen.

your eyes were drawn back to his lips – in a definitely nonsexual, nonfuckingcreepy way. you just loved the way he smiled. the way he would slightly poke his tongue out whilst he beamed. you loved the way he laughed; the way he would throw his head back and his eyes would light up. you loved the way he cared about his mom, cared about the team, cared about everyone. he was the sweetest soul you’d ever met – the way he would look after JJ after a long day or how he would check up on Garcia when the team was working on a tough case. you loved the way he loved and protected and cherished the ones closest to him. and you hated that you couldn’t tell him.

“you’re staring again, (y/n).” he’d said smirking, that day on the couch, whilst the credits of stardust rolled.

and in that moment, in his arms, you wanted to tell him. tell him that you couldn’t sit in a room without staring at him because he was your world, your everything. but instead, you did what you did best – and forced down all those feelings that you’d tried to convince yourself were insignificant because spencer did not like you the same way you liked him. and you couldn’t risk that. you couldn’t risk losing him. he was too important – too significant in your life to lose him over something as stupid as your feelings.

you’d rolled your eyes at him and told him to “fuck off”, as you left the warmth of his arms and made your way to the kitchen in hope that he hadn’t seen how flushed your face was.

and it was there you told yourself that you couldn’t do this anymore. you couldn’t let yourself get too close to him because jesus fucking christ it hurt too much to know that he would never feel the same way as you did.

and you stuck to your words. for the next couple of weeks, you avoided him successfully (well as successfully as you could considering that you both saw each other every day at work, were paired together on your most recent case and literally spent every waking second together). but you’d avoided spending any substantial time alone together – you sat next to Morgan on the plane (opposed to your usual seat next to Spencer), thankfully you got to share a room with JJ, and as embarrassing as it was every time you saw Spencer around the local precinct, you quickly turned the other direction to avoid bumping into him.

you told yourself it would be fine. it was fine. you were fine. this tiny crush (more like this monumental mass of love that was crushing your whole existence) would soon disappear, and things would be back to normal in no time (i mean who were you kidding it had been nearly a whole year since you’d realised that you a felt a certain way about a certain doctor).

but things were genuinely fine for the next couple of days.

until they weren’t.

your luck had run out – because this weekend you and spencer had tickets to go to the local aquarium.

i mean had you known months ago that you’d end up making yourself promise that you’d avoid your best friend then obviously you wouldn’t have booked tickets. but it was the aquarium (one of his favourite places on earth) and there was a brand-new exhibition about the conservation of jellyfish (one of his favourite animals on earth) and you’d booked the tickets in the spur of the moment without even asking him because it just felt right (once you told him that you booked the tickets, he agreed to come immediately, enveloping you in his arms - thanking you over and over again for thinking about him so selflessly).

and now you couldn’t refund your ticket or cancel last minute (you were pretty sure he had no idea that you were avoiding him, if spencer hadn’t realised by now that you were hopelessly in love with him there was no way he would’ve realised you were doing everything in your power to stop feeling the way you felt).

so, there you were stuck in this predicament – forced to pretend that you weren’t in love with the love of your life for a solid three hours, all by yourselves on a rainy saturday afternoon.

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Masterpost of Free Gothic Literature & Theory

Classics Vathek by William Beckford Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë The Woman in White  & The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu The Turn of the Screw by Henry James The Monk by Matthew Lewis The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux Melmoth the Wanderer by Charles Maturin The Vampyre; a Tale by John Polidori Collected Works of Edgar Allan Poe Confessions of an English Opium-Eater by Thomas De Quincey The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson Dracula by Bram Stoker The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Short Stories and Poems An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge by Ambrose Bierce Songs of Innocence & Songs of Experience by William Blake The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge The King in Yellow by Robert W. Chambers The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Pre-Gothic Beowulf The Divine Comedy  by Dante Alighieri A Journal of the Plague Year by Daniel Defoe Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe Paradise Lost by John Milton Macbeth by William Shakespeare Oedipus, King of Thebes by Sophocles The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster

Gothic-Adjacent Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen The Wendigo by Algernon Blackwood Jane Eyre & Villette by Charlotte Brontë Lyrical Ballads, With a Few Other Poems by Coleridge and Wordsworth The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens The Idiot & Demons (The Possessed) by Fyodor Dostoyevsky The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexandre Dumas Moby-Dick by Herman Melville The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells

Historical Theory and Background The French Revolution of 1789 by John S. C. Abbott Shakespearean Tragedy: Lectures on Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, Macbeth by A. C. Bradley The Tale of Terror: A Study of the Gothic Romance by Edith Birkhead On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and the Heroic in History by Thomas Carlyle Demonology and Devil-Lore by Moncure Daniel Conway Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism by Inman and Newton On Liberty by John Stuart Mill The Social Contract & Discourses by Jean-Jacques Rousseau Feminism in Greek Literature from Homer to Aristotle by Frederick Wright

Academic Theory Introduction: Replicating Bodies in Nineteenth-Century Science and Culture by Will Abberley Viewpoint: Transatlantic Scholarship on Victorian Literature and Culture by Isobel Armstrong Theories of Space and the Nineteenth-Century Novel by Isobel Armstrong The Higher Spaces of the Late Nineteenth-Century Novel by Mark Blacklock The Shipwrecked salvation, metaphor of penance in the Catalan gothic by Marta Nuet Blanch Marching towards Destruction: the Crowd in Urban Gothic by Christophe Chambost Women, Power and Conflict: The Gothic heroine and “Chocolate-box Gothic” by Avril Horner Psychos’ Haunting Memories: A(n) (Un)common Literary Heritage by Maria Antónia Lima ‘Thrilled with Chilly Horror’: A Formulaic Pattern in Gothic Fiction by Aguirre Manuel The terms “Gothic” and “Neogothic” in the context of Literary History by O. V. Razumovskaja  The Female Vampires and the Uncanny Childhood by Gabriele Scalessa Curating Gothic Nightmares by Heather Tilley Elizabeth Bowen, Modernism, and the Spectre of Anglo-Ireland by James F. Wurtz Hesitation, Projection and Desire: The Fictionalizing ‘as if…’ in Dostoevskii’s Early Works by Sarah J. Young Intermediality and polymorphism of narratives in the Gothic tradition by Ihina Zoia

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@hollynotebooklover job paul is an artist who actually paints a lot of book covers for romance novels!!! Two of these were covers of some Sophie Jordan books, one was a suzanne Enoch book, the others are ones I've seen but can't remember right at this second. But he's done covers for everyone from Vivienne lorret to cathy Maxwell. It's certainly a different vibe then the classic romance covers, more hyper realistic but still painted! He is one of my all time favorite artists!

Some of my favorite NON Fabio Johanna Lindsey covers!

I love how very nude most of these men are.

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@spence-imagines I finally did it!!

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Haunted by Chuck Pahlaniuk

I want to start this by saying I've never read anything else by this author. Not even fight club. And I probably never ever will.

I went into this book expecting horror and gore and grossness. Not to be bombarded with incredibly high handed and inaccurate views on society and humanity as a whole.

That's not to say you don't get the horror and the gross factor. To an extreme in some parts. This is where I will tag the triggers. Because there are a lot. Body horror, sexual deviancy including pedophilia and children masturbating (those are the only things that have popped up sexually so far at halfway through), the infamous chapter 'guts' includes quite a bit of gruesome gore, though it didn't bother me much. That's what I've got so far but they are some pretty big ones if they are things that might trigger you. The pedophilia was a bit of a trigger for me and it was not subtle.

On a different, more critical note, I do not read horror to be spploonfed 'edgy' viewpoints on society. I, and everybody else in the world, knows that society has problems. If it's really something you want in your story, show it. Don't REPEATEDLY tell me what's wrong with me and every other human being in society. It is tedious, it is obnoxious and I feel like I'm talking to some seriously WOKE college student who is just regurgitating what they see on the news and read in super "deep" articles. No thanks.

And the characters. I can see what chuck was trying to accomplish. He was trying to make a set of characters that are not one sided and aren't good that we supposedly should be able to empathize with regardless of the fact that they have a dark side. The problem is the execution. They are NOT multifaceted, morally grey characters I think chuck was going for. Every single character is simply put, terrible. They do not have good sides, they are selfish, they are greedy, they are stupid, and not a single one of them has an ounce of common sense. They are treating their "captor" (who they went with willingly knowing they'd be in this retreat for 3 months???) As if he is doing something terrible, but the fact is they AGREED to this. The story revolves around every single one of the characters sabotaging themselves to make the story more interesting. I don't know a single person who acts the way they do? And they are all representing stereotypes, which makes them even more one dimensional.

I have yet to finish this book and after the chapter I just read I am not sure I'm even going to.

I would not recommend this book to a single person. It is not entertaining, the only truly horrifying aspect of this book is the writing and the social commentary, and I do not want a single character to live through this ordeal.

1/5 stars.

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hey ppl reading this can u please reblog and tag ur sign + favorite animal + most worn type of shoe… it’s for my Research

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The Lunar Chronicles covers: new vs old

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Edwardian Hairstyles A collection of Edwardian photographs, depicting some of the hairstyles of the time, like the Low Pompadour. Hatpin Hairstyle. Side-Swirls. Flapper (The title ‘Flapper’ originally referred to teenage girls who wore their hair in single plait which often terminated in a wide ribbon bow.) & the pompadour.

Victorian Hairstyles Here [x] | 1920’s Hairstyles Here [x] | 1930’s Hairstyles Here [x] | WW2 Hairstyles Here [x]

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Mary Shelley (2017) dir. Haifaa Al-Mansour

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Have you ever seen a violinist going APESHIT?!

Be sure to check out IAmDSharp!

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Papa Mando and his little womp rat.

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SureJan.gif

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If you're a swerf please go ahead and unfollow me

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The flowing white cotton so popular in the late 18th and 19th centuries had dangers to both maker and wearer: It was produced with often-brutal slave labor on plantations, and it was also more flammable than the heavy silks and wool favored by the wealthy in the previous centuries. One type of cotton lace was particularly problematic: In 1809 John Heathcoat patented a machine that made the first machine-woven silk and cotton pillow “lace” or bobbinet, now better known as tulle, which could catch fire in an instant. The tulle was frequently layered, to add volume and compensate for its sheerness, and stiffened with highly combustible starch. Ballerinas were particularly at risk: British ballerina Clara Webster died in 1844 when her dress caught fire at London’s Drury Lane theatre after her skirt came too close to sunken lights onstage.

But performers weren’t the only ones in peril: Even the average woman wearing the then-popular voluminous crinolines was at risk of setting herself ablaze. And the “flannelette” (plain cotton brushed to create a nap and resemble wool flannel) so popular for nightshirts and undergarments was particularly combustible if hit with a stray spark or the flame of a household candle. So many children burned in household accidents that one company came out with a specially treated flannelette called Non-Flam, advertised as being “strong’y recommended by Coroners.”

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Sweet set #2 of the ongoing kitty parade!!

I've just laid down the lightest fur tones and the first dark color. This let's me see where my 'white' spaces are and build the colors up