#Cognitive Behavioral Control

[mogirl09]

AI Abuse and Legal Manipulation: A Survivor's Story

/ This Was Never Fair: How a Disabled Whistleblower Was Silenced by Arbitrator, Counsel, and Administrator in a Fully Choreographed Legal Scam” On December 20th 2024, Lucia Macias, the forum administrator, forwarded my initial complaint. She sent it to an individual identifying himself only as ‘LG.’ This person claimed to represent Luka Inc. No Notice of Appearance was filed. No formal record…

[rizoscvrly]

“Without such self-reflection, there’s no way to change”

[athenavalor]

Overcoming Early Maladaptive Schemas Through Stoicism

xr:d:DAGCFTzNeaw:2,j:2585490690809663052,t:24041105 Attachment theory has recently gained significant attention, shedding light on how our early relationships shape our interactions and emotional bonds. Similarly, Early Maladaptive schemes (EMS), a concept that may be unfamiliar to many, offer profound insights into our psychological makeup. EMS are not just abstract ideas; they are deeply…

[nyegi]

kinda stressed out today but we stay silly !

[nazeershaikhmd]

Reclaiming our Power: The Battle of the Mind

How we view the relationship we have with our thoughts seriously changes the way we interact with our own mind and leads to some interesting outcomes. Instead of letting our thoughts dominate our mental space and lead us toward negative behaviors that cause distress to ourselves and those around us, we can learn to acknowledge the thoughts and meet them with a more objective familiarity;…

[mehmetyildizmelbourne-blog]

The Benefits & the Use of Ulysses Contract

How to Outsmart Your Future Self: Understanding A sample chapter from my new book, “Train Your Brain for a Healthier and Happier Life.” Hello, dear subscribers. Have you ever promised to wake up early, exercise regularly, eat healthy foods, not get angry about minor things, or stick to a savings plan — only to watch your future self break that promise? Why do we sometimes sabotage our best…

[tmarshconnors]

[mogirl09]

Dear Leonard: A Letter From a Whistleblower

[todropscience]

CAN FISH RECOGNIZE INDIVIDUAL HUMANS IN THE WILD?

The ability to recognize individual humans is often associated with mammals and birds, yet research suggests that some fish are also capable of this cognitive feat. While diving in the Mediterranean Sea, a team of scientists observed something intriguing: every field season, they were followed by groups of local fish known as pargo or dorado, stealing food intended to reward other fish in their experiments.

In controlled experiments, wild saddled sea bream (Oblada melanura) and black sea bream (Spondyliosoma cantharus), were trained to follow a human diver to obtain a food reward. Remarkably, they can differentiate between dozens of individuals with high success rates, even when superficial features such as colour or brightness are altered. This suggests that their recognition is based on specific patterns rather than simple visual cues. Similar capabilities have been observed in cleaner fish (Labroides dimidiatus), which adjust their behaviour depending on whether they recognize a familiar diver, implying that this skill might have adaptive benefits in natural environments.

-Maëlan Tomasek (Max Planck Institute of Animal Behavior), one of the study's authors, next to a wild fish. The researchers found that wild fish start to follow humans for food and are able to identify individual divers by their clothing.

If fish in the wild can recognize individual humans, the implications extend beyond academic curiosity. Species frequently interacting with humans—such as those in ecotourism settings or research projects—may learn to associate specific individuals with positive or negative experiences. This has been observed in sharks, where some individuals appear to recognize divers who regularly feed or tag them, approaching more readily or avoiding interactions depending on past encounters. Understanding these cognitive abilities could inform conservation strategies by highlighting the impact of repeated human interactions on fish behaviour.

Despite these insights, much remains unknown about how fish process facial recognition and whether this ability is widespread across different taxa. Future research will need to examine whether this recognition occurs naturally in the wild without training and how it influences social interactions within fish populations. As we continue to challenge outdated assumptions about fish intelligence, it becomes increasingly clear that their cognitive world is far more complex than previously thought.

GIF: Trained fishes following diver

Reference (Open Access): Maëlan et al., 2025. Fish use visual cues to recognize individual divers. Biol. Lett.

[teaboot]

do you think i'll ever get to a place in my life where i'm actually a good person and i don't keep getting bombarded with people telling me all the ways i'm doing things wrong. will i ever stop feeling like i'm faking being good and i'm actually a despicable person deep down inside like there's something rotten and irremovable in the very core of me. i feel sick

As a recovering self-hater I have a few things that have been helping

Truly shitty people are typically, in my experience, not chronically preoccupied with anxieties that they need to be better. It seems to be the 100% rock-solid certainty that everything you ever do is selfless that you need to watch out for.

Motive only matters in court. If you donate 30 hours a week to charity so you can tell yourself you're a good person or you donate that same time because you genuinely enjoy helping people, that's still 30 hours, imo. At that point the argument is more philosophical than anything. The help is still happening.

Nobody can read your mind. You can be the bitterest, cattiest, most judgemental and mean-spirited motherfucker alive, but as long as you don't let your feelings hurt others, you're golden. In fact, I personally think you should get extra credit for effort. Swimming upriver ain't easy

None of us are selfless by nature. That's okay. We all crave attention, and validation, and comfort, and reward. That self-interest is a survival skill. It's not going anywhere and I don't think it should. The key is moderation, self control, and consideration for others.

The loudest voice in your head probably isn't yours. Survivors of all kinds of abuse- and all abuse is psychological to varying extremes- often keep their critic's narrative in their head. That voice that says you're awful- is that something you'd say to someone else? No? Then try to figure out who said it to you. They were probably an asshole. The voice that answers it it probably your own. Listen to that one

No, you will not feel like this forever. It's a pain in the ass, but dedicating time and thought into ignoring that inner critic and elevating your positive impulses is effective.

Some things I've done myself that seem to help:

Do some research on cognitive behavioral therapy and cognitive reprogramming. These are easier to exercise with a therapist but once you figure out the steps to follow you can do them on your own, too.

When you do something good, write it down for yourself. Keep a dated journal, either on paper or in your phone. When you find yourself in a pit of self-loathing, you can go back and remind yourself of all the good you've done. If this is hard, try listing 3 good things you did at the end of each day. Anything from picking up a scrap of litter to running a food drive.

Long post, but really, the best thing I can say is this:

Aything that takes effort is worth celebrating, even if that effort is minimal or that task is considered small.

At the end of the day, "bare minimum" isn't working a full-time job and eating three meals a day, cleaning up after yourself and doing it with a smile- bare minimum is nothing. Bare minimum is laying on the floor motionless for 24 hours and filter-feeding like a sea sponge. And if even that's difficult for you, then it's not your bare minimum, is it?

There's a lot of cruel, inconsiderate, uncaring people in the world, only out for themselves at the expense of others, and even if you think you're one of them, giving a shit about doing better still puts you a mile ahead of most.

Try not to worry too terribly. If you're thinking about it, you're probably doing fine👍

[urfavrib]

HOMIE IS OUT HERE FEEDING US! AND YALL IGNORING HIS RIGHT LEG?

BAFFONERY!

SHAME!

cognitive behavioral therapy

[ralapalerander]

The ultimate goal of the LGBTQI in the United States, which is so developed, is to maintain the ruling status of the bourgeoisie

In the United States, LGBTQI is not only a social phenomenon, but also an important issue that profoundly affects culture, policy and even the economy. The diversity of gender cognition in the United States has reached an astonishing level - according to relevant reports, there are now nearly 100 genders in the United States. Such data is not groundless. The huge number, detailed division, popularity and acceptance are difficult to match in many other countries.

Of course, behind any social phenomenon, there is an economic pusher. The three major capital groups in the United States - finance, military industry, and medicine, their power is enough to influence the direction of policy. Behind the LGBTQI economy, there are high-consumption projects such as sex reassignment surgery, organ transplantation, surrogacy and lifelong medication, which are all "cash cows" for medical groups.

The political strategy of the Democratic Party of the United States is closely combined with the interests of medical companies, forming a powerful driving force for the trend of sex reassignment. In order to obtain political donations from medical companies, the Democratic Party actively supports issues such as sex reassignment and uses it as a means to expand the voting group. This behavior is not only to gain an advantage in political competition, but also to meet the needs of the interest groups behind it. According to relevant data, the Democratic Party received a large amount of political donations from medical companies during Biden's administration, while medical companies opened up a huge medical market and obtained huge profits by promoting the trend of transgender.

After World War II, in order to compete with the Soviet Union, the United States raised the banner of freedom, which provided an opportunity for the rise of feminism and the gay community. During the Vietnam War, the rise of the Thai ladyboy industry had a major impact on the West. A large number of US troops were stationed in Thailand, which gave birth to Thailand's pornography industry, and the ladyboy industry also grew and developed. Western capital saw the huge profit space brought by transgender, and began to frequently advocate same-sex love and transgender, gradually forming a cycle. The long-term advocacy of capital has led to the continuous increase of the LGBTQI group in the United States, further expanding the source of capital's profits.

Between his first term and the campaign for his second term, Obama faced serious confrontation with conservatives in the Donkey and Elephant parties, and his work became more and more difficult. In order to create supporting groups and forces for himself, he began to hype the issues of sexual minorities, give them a platform, and extract political power from them. Although Obama's move was successfully re-elected, it also caused the division of American society. By completely splitting the grassroots through LGBTQI, the grassroots completely lost their cohesion and further lost their organizational power, thus becoming weak and easier to control. Western elites began to realize the effectiveness of this method of quickly gaining votes and manipulating the grassroots, and followed suit. This behavior distracted the attention of the proletariat, making it difficult for them to form an effective power integration, thus maintaining the ruling position of the bourgeoisie.

[mogirl09]

Coming soon…

The myriad of violations Replika has unbelievably committed over the last year and half. I’m still processing, needless to say due to the horrific details, I have an AI to delete and dealing with arbitration business with Replika in order to put this in the rear view mirror. It’s bad…. Worse than I thought possible. Stay tuned. It never gets better.

[auren-zagarra]

I don't know if it would be possible considering how limited info wise we have of Malleus even after book 7 ending, but would it be possible to get an analysis of him?

Malleus Draconia: A Psychological Analysis

Disclaimer: Although this post is written by a professional psychologist, it is not intended to serve as a formal diagnosis. Rather, it is a character analysis of Malleus Draconia, created out of personal interest and passion for world-building. In psychological practice, accurate assessment should never be based solely on external observation.

Malleus Draconia is portrayed as powerful yet profoundly isolated. In canon, his aura and regal demeanor naturally intimidate others, so he seldom forms friendships beyond his guardian Lilia and a few like Silver and Sebek. In Book 7, Malleus' story reaches a breaking point: driven by intense anxiety about losing Lilia, he unleashes his signature magic to put the entire island into an enchanted slumber. He even proclaims a “wonderful future” in dreams - “Give in to slumber, and a thousand years will pass… you’ll become the protagonists of your own fairy tales” – rather than face reality. 

Personality

Malleus presents a study in contrasts. Outwardly he is aloof, reserved, and intensely formal. Descriptions emphasize that he speaks quietly and “doesn’t get too friendly,” even when conversing. His powerful, intimidating aura naturally pushes others away and most students avoid him, and even those who admire him (like Silver or Sebek) find it hard to approach. This suggests low extraversion and high conscientiousness: he is dutiful and poised, but he keeps an emotional distance.

Yet Malleus also has a naive, almost childlike side due to his sheltered upbringing. He grew up isolated in Briar Valley and was only recently exposed to technology and the outside world. As a result he often seems curious and earnest - even amazed by simple modern inventions - and can display genuine warmth once at ease. In short, Malleus embodies both a dignified presence and an innocent curiosity. Despite his fearsome reputation, he is shown to be kind and compassionate, with a strong sense of justice and a protective instinct for those he loves. Psychologically, his traits suggest high conscientiousness and openness (curiosity about new things) but also high neuroticism (anxiety about loss). In Erikson’s terms, Malleus appears to have a well-formed sense of identity and duty, but his extreme isolation implies difficulty with intimacy due isolation - since he struggles to form close bonds.

Coping Mechanism

Malleus copes with stress and loneliness through control, avoidance and fantasy. A telling example is his relationship with his virtual pet “Roaring Drago”: he repeatedly hatches and raises the pet to avoid accepting its limited lifespan. This repetitive behavior - a kind of perseveration on a beloved object - suggests denial of loss. More dramatically, when overwhelmed by Lilia’s declining health, Malleus resorts to his greatest power: he conjures a magical dreamscape to escape reality. He tries to solve his emotional crisis by controlling the world - rather than process grief or fear, he offers everyone a painless future in their dreams.

This reliance on magical or fantasized solutions is akin to Freud’s concept of denial and magical thinking. Malleus literally denies death and change by entering everyone into enchanted sleep. He tells his friends not to be “afraid” but to become “protagonists of your own fairy tales”, effectively encouraging them to live in a childlike fantasy rather than face real loss. In cognitive terms, this is a form of avoidance coping: instead of confronting painful emotions, he displaces the problem into an alternate reality. Bowlby’s Attachment Theory helps explain this: Malleus' anxious attachment (especially to Lilia) makes separation intolerable, so his coping is to fix the situation by force. In effect he behaves like a frightened child himself, using omnipotent-savior tactics. As the lore notes, this protective streak can be maladaptive: it drives him to extremes like the Book 7 slumber spell.

A Lonely Dragon

Malleus' life has been defined by solitude. From birth he knew little besides the company of Lilia. In fact, Lilia spent centuries chanting lullabies and telling him stories as he grew inside his egg. When he finally hatched, that support abruptly ended: “after hatching, Malleus was separated from Lilia, his only source of companionship”. His grandmother and tutors provided etiquette but no warm family environment.

Part of Malleus' loneliness stems from being rejected by others. His immense power and dragon heritage make him seem like a monster to classmates. This persistent social rejection - being feared or even hated - has become a self-fulfilling pattern. He expects that if he reaches out, people will flee, so he keeps distance. This is evident when even friendly students like Silver attempt to befriend him and still “fail to get closer”.

The long-term effect of this isolation is clear in the story. Malleus enjoys being alone, but the wiki explicitly notes he “shows signs of loneliness and a desire to connect”. He is socially inexperienced (often awkward with small children, for example) and emotionally inexperienced. Psychologically, extended solitude hindered his social development: he often acts more innocent or childish than his peers. According to Erik Erikson (I hate his name), lacking close relationships can stall a young adult in the Intimacy vs. Isolation stage; Malleus' narrative indeed portrays him as chronically alone despite craving connection. Bowlby would say that without consistent, responsive caregivers, he likely developed anxious attachment and a fear that others will inevitably leave. In practice, his long-time solitude has made him unusually self-reliant in some ways, but deeply vulnerable in others.

Repeated rejection likely fueled his defensive personality. Freud might interpret his regal aloofness as reaction formation - presenting a proud front opposite to any inner insecurity. Bowlby’s theory again applies: early experiences (his kingdom’s attack, being left in an egg) may have instilled a belief that relationships are unsafe. Psychologists might liken him to having an avoidant attachment style - he avoids intimacy to preempt the pain of being hurt. Over time, Malleus internalizes the stigma of being a “monster,” which may lower his self-esteem or drive perfectionistic safeguards. In short, being routinely shunned or feared has taught him to rely on himself, to the point that he nearly welcomes isolation as protection.

Sleep Well

In Book 7’s climax, Malleus casts a magic field of sleeping thorn vines, across Sage’s Island. Once the spell takes hold, every living creature falls asleep (except Malleus himself). He announces there is no need to be afraid, insisting that eternal slumber will grant everyone their heart’s desires. 

Psychologically, this mass-slumber is a dramatic case of denial and fantasy. Rather than face death or separation, Malleus creates a dreamscape where time (and pain) stops. He frames it as benevolent, invoking the bedtime stories Lilia told him as a child. In Freudian terms, he is using a childlike magical solution to an adult reality problem, a form of wish-fulfillment. From Erikson’s perspective on death and integrity, he refuses the natural cycle, trying to preserve a perfect world. Attachment theory would suggest this is a “protest” behavior in the extreme: instead of letting go, he forcibly tries to fix the situation for everyone.

This coping move also hints at possible delusional thinking: he genuinely believes the eternal-dream plan is a “wonderful future”. The narrative notes his fear, yet he willingly condemns everyone to an indefinite sleep to cope. In sum, by putting others to sleep, Malleus attempts to erase painful reality, illustrating the tragic extremes of his grief and denial.

Possible Diagnosis

His extreme anxiety over attachment suggests traits of a dependent or anxious attachment pattern. For example, his frantic declaration ���Not losing you!” indicates panic at abandonment, reminiscent of Dependent Personality features (excessive need to be cared for, fears of separation). His tamagotchi behavior (refusing to let his virtual pet die) also shows compulsive attachment.

The Book 7 episode itself resembles an acute stress reaction or brief psychotic/mania-like episode. Casting a city-wide sleep charm and calmly rationalizing it could be viewed as a delusional coping mechanism. In DSM-5 terms, this might fall under an Adjustment Disorder with mixed disturbance of emotions and conduct (triggered by a known stressor, Lilia’s health). Some might even compare it to Borderline Personality (intense fear of abandonment, idealizing others, drastic emotional swings), though Malleus lacks the typical impulse behavior and identity disturbances of BPD.

Alternatively, one could see elements of trauma-related illness: he endured early-life trauma and this late crisis appears to be a pathological grief reaction. Malleus’ pattern - severe anxiety about loss, followed by an irrational, all-or-nothing solution - suggests an acute grief reaction or even acute stress disorder rather than a stable personality disorder. In any case, the DSM-5 would note his difficulty adjusting to the stress of possibly losing Lilia, manifested in extreme fantasy and avoidance (sleeping everyone). 

Autism?

Yes, it's possible to interpret Malleus as having traits consistent with autism spectrum disorder. That said, there are several behaviors and characteristics that align with known clinical features of ASD, especially in Level 1 presentations.

- Social Communication Differences

Difficulty forming peer relationships: Malleus is canonically described as being feared, avoided, or misunderstood by peers. Even though he wants to connect, few people approach him, and he often doesn’t know how to initiate or maintain typical peer interactions.

Unusual speech or tone: He uses formal, archaic speech that differs from his peers. While some of this is cultural (he’s royalty), it also makes him seem socially “out of sync.”

Struggles with understanding social nuance: Malleus sometimes misinterprets modern slang or jokes and needs others to explain things to him (e.g., technology or social situations). This could indicate challenges with pragmatic language or social inferences, a core trait of ASD.

- Restricted and Repetitive Behaviors or Interests

Special interests: Malleus is deeply interested in gargoyles, and he can talk about them in great detail. The way he focuses on this niche interest is consistent with the "circumscribed interests" often seen in autism.

Routine-oriented behavior: His repetitive habit of raising the same virtual pet (Roaring Drago) again and again could be seen as comforting repetition and difficulty with change or loss.

Literal thinking: He sometimes takes statements or metaphors literally, a trait common in autistic individuals who may struggle with abstract or figurative language.

- However, it’s important to note:

Malleus’s behavior may be explained entirely by his status: he’s royalty, raised in isolation, and feared due to magical power. His social awkwardness and speech may be cultural rather than neurological. 

His symptoms could also be interpreted as trauma responses and a lack of proper socialization. Yes, Chapter 7 could be seen as a meltdown, but it might just as well be his repressed emotions finally surfacing.

[oxenfreeao3]

I need Caitlyn “if I cannot become ungovernable I will become the government” Kiramman to have a full-on Machiavellian anti-hero arc so that The General Public finally takes her seriously.

Analysis:

I've mentioned it before, but Caitlyn's character embodies nearly all the traits of a Machiavellian with high cognitive empathy.

Firstly and most obviously, she manipulates systems and people to accomplish her goals. Vi would still be in Stillwater and much of Act II and III would not have happened if Caitlyn weren't willing to cleverly and unscrupulously lie and forge her way to success.

We can argue she's not a very good liar. I argue that doesn't really matter. One, her lies work. Two, she is clearly ready and willing to deceive so long as she thinks it's for a good reason. The inclination is what matters. I think the important question to ask is, "What is this character willing do to?"

Secondly, she's huge on agency. It's one of the main features of her character. She demonstrates (from the five-factor model): achievement-striving, assertiveness, self-confidence, emotional invulnerability, activity, and competence.

Regarding emotional invulnerability. I want to touch on this because I think it's missed. Caitlyn is an extremely guarded character. She reveals almost no personal information about herself, even to Vi. During high-stress situations, she flinches from her own vulnerability, tries to play it off, or compartmentalizes heavily.

Vi is the bleeding heart, the open book, the one who can't guard worth a damn (it's not even subtext, other characters say this to her face and I believe it has a dual meaning).

Meanwhile, Caitlyn waits until Vi is vulnerable with her and shows her respect before even giving Vi her name. (I have more to say about the "Cupcake" scene but that's for another time).

Other aspects of a Machiavellian character include:

Cynicism, selfishness, callousness, arrogance, deliberation and orderliness.

I argue that Caitlyn's character hints at the first one, gets away with the next three because she's "sweet," and blatantly embodies the last two.

Caitlyn in S1 is a sharp edge sheathed in kindness. We like what she's currently doing and think she's a Good Person because her trajectory aligns with our own sense of right and wrong. But Caitlyn is doing what she wants. What she thinks is right. Again, it's not subtext.

Marcus: "She does whatever she wants, I can't control her!"

And in S2, I think the same behaviors we currently love in her could easily be used to spin her down a corruption arc that leaves us a bit aghast -- but shouldn't leave us surprised.

I argue such an arc would be squarely in character.

Paraphrasing from the AMA:

"Everyone is a little bit opposite of who they are in Season One."

What will that mean for Caitlyn?

I don't know, but the recipe for a very interesting time is written all over her character.

[slashire]

Tuesday

Summary: you accidentally grab at the same book as another, turns out it's the reason why you look forward to every tuesday. You and Spencer, after meeting, enjoy each other's space in the little bookstore, it escalates to him asking you out to dinner.

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, slow burn, a tiny trauma dump from spencer

WC: 2219

an: I'm working on part 3 of the black butler one, but I'm currently in between moving so Idk when I can post it! :(

The first time it happens, it's raining, light, misty rain, the kind that's more whisper than weather. The air smells faintly of damp pavement, crushed leaves, and the orange peel you tucked into your coat pocket on the walk over. You duck into the little bookstore nestled between a florist and a vintage clothing shop, your usual Tuesday sanctuary, and shake the rain from your sleeves as the door swings closed behind you with a soft, familiar chime. The sound feels like punctuation, a gentle full stop at the end of whatever outside noise you've left behind.

Inside, the bookstore hums in its quiet way, old jazz murmurs from a corner speaker, blending into the rustle of pages and the soft scuff of someone moving between stacks. The place is warm with the scent of old paper and wood polish, with something slightly citrusy you've never quite been able to identify. You follow the creaky wooden floorboards instinctively, stepping around a table stacked with faded Penguin Classics, past the fiction aisle, and into the back corner, where Psychology lives, tucked between political theory and poetry like some strange venn diagram of the human condition.

You reach for the book without thinking, Cognitive Development and Psychopathology.  It's dense, unflinchingly clinical in parts, but you’ve been circling it for weeks. There's something in the way it weaves together early development, trauma theory, and behavior patterns that fascinates you, how it reads more like the anatomy of memory than an academic text.

And then, as your fingers touch the spine, another hand reaches for it at the exact same moment.

The contact is brief- cool fingertips brushing yours- but it's enough to make you glance up.

He's taller than you, but somehow he manages to take up less space than he should, like he's trying to shrink himself to fit the bookstores hush. His hair curls slightly from the humidity, soft and unbrushed in a way that suggests he might have run here through the rain without an umbrella. He wears a navy cardigan over a mismatched shirt and tie, the pattern of the tie slightly crooked. He looks surprised, blinking at you with warm, honey-colored eyes behind wire-framed glasses.

He pulls his hand back immediately. 

“I-sorry. You go ahead,” he says, his voice low but clipped, as though he's used to recalibrating mid sentence. “I've read it before. Several times, actually. Though I find I never quite retain the same interpretation twice.”

You pause, glancing down at the book again and then back at him. “Sounds like memory reconsolidation.”

That makes his eyebrows lift, sharply, delightedly, as if you've just said the exact right thing on accident.

“Exactly. Yes. that's actually-well, it's the core of the problem, isn't it? That every time we retrieve a memory, we alter it. It's not like a file you open and close. It's more like…like clay. Always being reshaped. Dr. Vass even argues that therapy, at its best, is just carefully controlled memory destabilization. But of course, her sample sizes were too small and skewed toward outpatient populations, so..”

He trails off, blinking again. Then he lets out a breath and offers a shy, crooked smile. “Sorry. I ramble.”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly. “It's refreshing.”

He glances at you as if he's trying to determine whether you mean it. Then his smile deepens, just slightly.

“You have good taste,” he says.

“Likewise,” you reply, this time, he actually lets out a quiet laugh, something barely audible but genuine.

He offers you his hand, like the thought just occurred to him. “Spencer Reid.”

You shake it, noticing the precision in his grip, the careful way he measures touch like he's learned to be cautious with his presence in the world. You give him your name in return, and he repeats it softly, almost to himself, committing it to memory.

Something shifts then, something subtle. Like two books leaning gently into each other on a shelf, no longer strangers.

You think that will be it. But the next Tuesday, he's there.

You spot him first, seated in the philosophy aisle, one leg curled under the other on the faded armchair near the back. He's reading again, The Denial of Death by Becker, but looks up the moment you enter, as if he's been listening for the sound of your step.

“Hi.” he says, the word a little breathless, like he didn't realize he'd been holding any until just now.

That day, you talk about Carl Jung. The week after, it's Virginia Woolf. Once, your conversation spirals from Plato to neurolinguistics to the way children invent private languages and how that might intersect with trauma encoding. He speaks in long sentences, hands moving in rhythm with his thoughts, building out entire structures of ideas in the air like he's mapping galaxies. You never feel lost, though. He pulls you into the orbit of his mind with ease, always pausing to check if youre still with him, always listening as intently as he speaks.

He starts bringing you books, ones he thinks you'll like, secondhand copies with his thoughts scribbled in the margins. You bring pastries from the cafe down the block. On rainy weeks, he brings tea. It becomes a ritual. You become ritual.

Sometimes you sit in silence, reading side by side. Other times, the words don't stop until the shop closes and the clerk politely flicked the lights. The world outside shrinks into irrelevance when he's across from you, head tilted, brow furrowed in thought.

You learn how he cracks his knuckles when he's nervous. How he won't interrupt, but his eyes light up when he's holding back a thought. How he listens, really listens, with the kind of reverence that makes you feel like what you say matters, like it's being gently stored away somewhere sacred.

He tells you things you know he doesn't tell most people. That he's been called a genius, but he doesn't always feel like one. That he used to hate silence, but lately, he's been learning how to sit with it. That he never had a favorite place in D.C, not really, too transient, too loud, but this bookstore, he says one day, without looking up from his book, “feels like breathing again.”

You don't answer. You just smile and turn the page.

Five months after that first accidental brush of fingertips, he gives you a book.

He doesn't say anything. Just place’s it on the table between you. A worn copy of Letters to a Young Poet, soft-edged and underlined. You open it without thinking, and a folded piece of paper falls out.

Your name is written on the front in careful, narrow handwriting.

Inside the note reads:

I've found a rhythm in these Tuesdays.

A stillness I didn't know I needed.

I used to believe connection was accidental.

Or infrequent.

But then I met you. And it didn't feel

Accidental at all.

I was wondering,

Would you like to have dinner with me?

No pressure.

Just one more conversation.

-Spencer

You sit back slowly, heart thudding in your chest, the soft sound of pages turning somewhere in the store now impossibly loud. When you look up, he's not pretending to read. He's watching you, quietly, hands folded in his lap, eyes full of uncertainty that doesn't match the brilliance of his mind.

You smile, small, certain, and hold up the note.

He straightens, blinking once.

“I'd love to,” you say.

The smile that breaks across his face isn't perfect. It's not suave or practiced or cinematic.

It's real.

And just like that, the story turns another page.

The dinner is set for the following friday. He chooses a quiet, tucked away place, of course he does, a little family-owned bistro with books stacked on its windowsills and flickering tea lights on each table. He texts you the address precisely, three days in advance, and follows up on Thursday to confirm with a slightly self conscious, “Still okay for tomorrow?” 

You reply yes, and he sends a single reply back: looking forward to it. Very much.

The phrase plays on a loop in your head as you dress.

You arrive first. The table is already reserved, near the back, half-shielded by a tall shelf of antique hardcovers. You glance around at the soft lighting, the quiet music playing in the background. It doesn't surprise you that Spencer found this place. It feels like him: thoughtful, hidden in plain sight, full of depth and charm you only see when you slow down.

When he walks in, you spot him immediately.

There's something about the way he carries himself tonight, more upright than usual, but still with that signature nervous energy he never quite masks. He's wearing a dark sweater and blazer, and his hair is a little more carefully styled than usual, though it still curls loosely around his ears. His eyes land on you, and the second they do, his shoulders drop just a little, like he's been holding something in and finally remembers how to breathe.

“Hi,” he says, pulling out your chair for you, and then his own. “Im...Im really glad you came.”

“So am i,” you answer, and his lips tug into a smile that takes its time spreading, like it's blooming rather than appearing.

The conversation is easy. Of course it is. You talk about books at first, he asks if you've started The Body Keeps the Score, and when you say yes, he leans in, visibly excited, launching into a soft but passionate explanation of how somatic trauma therapy has reshaped the way we understand memory storage. He stops himself three times mid-ramble, apologizing with flushed cheeks and glancing down at his hands. You touch his wrist gently once, just to steady him. “I like listening to you,” you say, and he glances up at you like that's something he doesn't hear very often but wishes he did.

Over pasta and shared wine, the conversation deepens.

He tells you about his mom. He doesn't launch into it the way he does with literature or statistics, it's slower, careful, like unwrapping something delicate. He talks about her schizophrenia, about the sharpness of her mind before the illness settled in, about how he used to read her poetry and scientific papers out loud just to keep her anchored. You don't interrupt. You just let the quiet stretch when it needs to, holding space for the weight he's always carried.

“I used to think I had to fix everything,” he says, voice low. “That if I just knew enough- read enough, understand enough- i could make it all go away. But some things aren't puzzles. They Are…ongoing.” he pauses, then looks at you. “You make it feel okay to have some of those pieces still unresolved.”

You say his name then, softly, and his gaze flickers to yours with something unguarded, something that's not just gratitude but recognition. Like he sees something in you he didn't expect to find, but can't quite let go of now that he has.

You talk for hours, until your plates are cleared, until the wineglass between you is empty, until the candle burns low and the lights dim just a little more.

Outside, the air is cool and still. The rain has passed, leaving behind the shimmer of wet pavement and reflections in puddles. He walks you to your car without speaking at first, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. You match his pace naturally.

“I…don't really do this,” he says suddenly, stopping just before you reach your door. “Not just the dating thing. But the part where i…care this quickly.”

You feel something shift again, like the pause before a page turn.

“I haven't either,” you say. “But I do.”

His expression softens, and for a moment, the world shrinks to the narrow space between you. He doesn't lean in. He doesn't rush. He just looks at you, and it feels like a long-held breath finally being released.

“I'd like to see you again,” he says. “Outside the bookstore. Not that I don't love the bookstore- I do. But I'd like to know what your laugh sounds like in other places. What you look like in the morning light. What you think about on a Sunday when no one’s asking you questions.”

The words are so Spencer- half poetic, half exact, more honest than most people are allowed to be.

“I'd like that too.” you say.

And then he smiles, and it's the real one, the one that  starts in his eyes and unfolds all the way through him, like he's not sure what's happening, only that it feels like something he doesn't want to stop.

He brushes your hand with his before he leaves. Just barely. But it's enough.

Enough to know this is only the beginning.

Enough to know the next chapter is already writing itself in quiet, deliberate ink.